#I think we have yet to really comprehensively explore just how creatively the persistence of tags on this website can be used. Like, the fact that you can just put an entire post worth of content into a tag, and just have it randomly show up whenever anyone has the misfortune of writing a sufficiently unusual word that it ends up coinciding with what's in the tag, means it'll just pop up in people's post editors once in a while. You could engage in some kind of surreptitious communication via this approach, honestly. Or maybe you could? Either way. Just going to bury the lede really deep in here and say that I lost the game.#tag crimes#The Cohost Global Feed#old memes#old meme#memes so old they were probably called "fads" on at least one website#memes so old they predate the whole thing where everyone started to conflate "image macro" and "meme"
@NireBryce shared with:
#THE GREAT GATSBY by F. Scott Fitzgerald ONCE AGAIN TO ZELDA Then wear the gold hat, if that will move her; If you can bounce high, bounce for her too, Till she cry 'Lover, gold-hatted, high-bouncing lover, I must have you!' Thomas Parke d'Invilliers CHAPTER I In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I've been turning over in my mind ever since. 'Whenever you feel like criticizing anyone,' he told me, 'just remember that all the people in this world haven't had the advantages that you've had.' He didn't say any more, but we've always been unusually communicative in a reserved way, and I understood that he meant a great deal more than that. In consequence, I'm inclined to reserve all judgements, a habit that has opened up many curious natures to me and also made me the victim of not a few veteran bores. The abnormal mind is quick to detect and attach itself to this quality when it appears in a normal person, and so it came about that in college I was unjustly accused of being a politician, because I was privy to the secret griefs of wild, unknown men. Most of the confidences were unsought--frequently I have feigned sleep, preoccupation, or a hostile levity when I realized by some unmistakable sign that an intimate revelation was quivering on the horizon; for the intimate revelations of young men, or at least the terms in which they express them, are usually plagiaristic and marred by obvious suppressions. Reserving judgements is a matter of infinite hope. I am still a little afraid of missing something if I forget that, as my father snobbishly suggested, and I snobbishly repeat, a sense of the fundamental decencies is parcelled out unequally at birth. And, after boasting this way of my tolerance, I come to the admission that it has a limit. Conduct may be founded on the hard rock or the wet marshes, but after a certain point I don't care what it's founded on. When I came back from the East last autumn I felt that I wanted the world to be in uniform and at a sort of moral attention forever; I wanted no more riotous excursions with privileged glimpses into the human heart. Only Gatsby, the man who gives his name to this book, was exempt from my reaction--Gatsby, who represented everything for which I have an unaffected scorn. If personality is an unbroken series of successful gestures, then there was something gorgeous about him, some heightened sensitivity to the promises of life, as if he were related to one of those intricate machines that register earthquakes ten thousand mi#not mine#it's been there for a year
