May 10, 1774: The reign of Louis XVI begins.
Louis XVI succeeded his grandfather Louis XV as King of France and of Navarre at age nineteen. By this time he had already been married to the Austrian Archduchess Maria Antonia, or Marie Antoinette, for four years; their marriage had, so far, been unfruitful — the couple had failed to produce any children and would not until 1778; in addition to his and his wife’s progenitive problems, the new King was faced with numerous issues which required the immediate attention of a tenacious and resourceful head of state (he was not one), including France’s financial problems (later including the enormous debt accumulated after the American War of Independence), and various social, economic, political problems that the King was in the end unable to fully address, though not due to a severe disinterest or lack of intelligence but rather the feebleness of his character (he was often described, as both a child and adult, as shy and indecisive). Some of his actions were popular with the people, such as his approval of the Edict of Versailles in 1787, which granted certain non-Catholic religious groups the right to openly practice in France; he also reinstated the regional parlements, which decentralized power from the crown but also enabled nobles to block the attempted radical reforms of Terray and Maupeou, who were both dismissed only months after Louis XVI’s ascension to the throne. Tensions between the privileged First and Second Estates and the Third Estate (whose members made up 98% of the country’s population), widespread food shortages, and general unrest and malaise, persisted throughout his reign.
In 1789, the King was forced in his desperation to summon the Estates-General, the first time this assembly had been called in 175 years; this summons, the declaration of the National Assembly, the Tennis Court Oath, and the Storming of the Bastille marked the beginning of the French Revolution, which ended - at least for Louis - in his deposition and execution.
I don’t want to be a feminist anymore. Like a five-year-old, I want to close my eyes, stick my fingers in my ears, stomp my feet on the floor and scream “No! No, you cannot make me, I won’t, leave me alone!” I am, simply put, too tired. So very, very tired.
I am tired of fighting with my friends. I am tired of arguing that someone groping and slapping my butt isn’t “what I have to expect”, just because I’m at a bar, and the one attacking my butt has a drink in the other hand. I am tired of hearing “boys will be boys” and “when you’re dressed like that …” and “that’s just what guys do”. I am tired of trying to drown those sentiments in loud, repetitive no’s, screamed over and over again, till my throat is sore and my voice weak – just to hear them repeated, as soon as exhaustion threatens to silence me.
I am tired of being afraid. I am tired of seeing someone writing something offensive, sexist, racist, ageist, ableist, somewhere online. I am tired of seeing those writings getting likes and lol’s, and SO TRUE’s. I am tired of being consumed by confusion and anger, typing, typing, typing and typing a seemingly endless response, including research, links and statistics, and then hesitate clicking “submit”. I am tired of knowing that I hesitate because I am afraid of the flood of responses that will come. I am tired of knowing that I will be bombarded with lighten up’s, stop whining’s and get a sense of humor’s for so long, that I will start to wonder if I am indeed wound up too tight, a nagger and humorless. I am tired of the fact that I’m afraid of being called a cunt, even though I don’t find genitalia insulting or demeaning.
—I don’t want to be a feminist anymore. (via gingerrqueer)
Titanic Sinks Four Hours After Hitting Iceberg
Survival Facts: If you were a third class passenger, your chance of survival was 25 percent
First class passengers had a 62 percent survival rate. Second class passengers had a 41 percent survival rate. The crew had a 24 percent survival rate.
Fun Fact: What happened to the iceberg?
Bonus: Images of the Titanic wreck made by stitching together hundreds of optical and sonar images collected by robots via Scientific American Woods Whole Oceanographic Institute, and National Geographic.
Image: April 16, 1912 edition of the New York Times.
‘arent you hot in that’
ya i feel like beyonce????
‘so do you keep that on while having sex?’
only when its with ur dad???
‘ur arabian right? arabic? idk same thing lol’
r u george bush
Did this really just happen? x