I feel so sad right now that not even hot pink bubble wrap can cheer me up
November 2011
“And now was acknowledged the presence of the Red Death. He had come like a thief in the night. And one by one dropped the revellers in the blood-bedewed halls of their revel, and died each in the despairing posture of his fall. And the life of the ebony clock went out with that of the last of the gay. And the flames of the tripods expired. And Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over all.”
—The Masque of the Red Death—Edgar Allen Poe (via mikaela-grimm)
ugh you go Mary you get that short haircut
Matthew fuck you for being an ass about it
You can't smash patriarchy with transphobia. It's time to end the tolerance of transphobia in radical feminist circles.
You wont smash it with cis sexism.
You wont smash it with classism.
You wont smash it with racism.
You wont smash it with femme hate.
You wont smash it as long as you deny these things are even problems.
also, hetero-sexism/hetero-normativity.
Nor with body shaming, body policing, sizism, fat hate, or ableism. These things also serve the patriarchy, and the kyriarchy.
"Pretty Girl"
So I visited one of my cis friends this weekend who hasn’t been around me a whole lot since I’ve come out as genderqueer. She doesn’t really get it, but she’s tried to be supportive consistently since I told her.
The first time we hung out though, she slipped up with my name a lot and used only masculine pronouns and descriptors. I knew that it wasn’t malicious so I just tried to correct her each time with the name. She recognized that she wasn’t doing so well and promised to do better the next time she saw me. That made me feel a lot better.
This time around, there were no name slips at all! This is especially impressive since she had to introduce me to quite a few people because I didn’t know anyone. She still used masculine pronouns (which is fine, I like both masculine and feminine pronouns), but she called me “Pretty Girl” a few times! This meant a lot.
First, it is a nickname that most of my close friends use for me, probably more often than they use my actual name. She was completely unaware that it was my nickname. She just said it. That was awesome. Second, while I am equally fine with both feminine and masculine pronouns, I prefer mostly feminine descriptors with just a few masculine ones mixed in.
It was like she completely saw me and knew my gender. I know that my gender sort of blows her mind, but the fact that she’s trying and taking cues from me means the world. It’s nice to know that even people who say they don’t understand my gender identity might understand it more than they think.
October 2011
My face as I read this is in my Linguistics textbook.
When the full realisation of the awesomeness sank in.
However it then made me think of this.
Which made me look like this.
I feel it’s fate that I read it on the 31st October.
RIP Lily and James Potter.
lol omg regardless of your…passionate feelings re: Lily and James and Snape and all dem
can we talk about the gross phrasing of that sentence
girl
man
………
dnw this bullshit
- Holly: SCOURGE OF MY LIFE
- Rue: I'm guessing scourge is light in French
“
If we teach women that there are only certain ways they may acceptably behave, we should not be surprised when they behave in those ways.
And we should not be surprised when they behave these ways during attempted or completed rapes.
Women who are taught not to speak up too loudly or too forcefully or too adamantly or too demandingly are not going to shout “NO” at the top of their goddamn lungs just because some guy is getting uncomfortably close.
Women who are taught not to keep arguing are not going to keep saying “NO.”
Women who are taught that their needs and desires are not to be trusted, are fickle and wrong and are not to be interpreted by the woman herself, are not going to know how to argue with “but you liked kissing, I just thought…”
Women who are taught that physical confrontations make them look crazy will not start hitting, kicking, and screaming until it’s too late, if they do at all.
Women who are taught that a display of their emotional state will have them labeled hysterical and crazy (which is how their perception of events will be discounted) will not be willing to run from a room disheveled and screaming and crying.
Women who are taught that certain established boundaries are frowned upon as too rigid and unnecessary are going to find themselves in situations that move further faster before they realize that their first impression was right, and they are in a dangerous room with a dangerous person.
Women who are taught that refusing to flirt back results in an immediately hostile environment will continue to unwillingly and unhappily flirt with somebody who is invading their space and giving them creep alerts.
People wonder why women don’t “fight back,” but they don’t wonder about it when women back down in arguments, are interrupted, purposefully lower and modulate their voices to express less emotion, make obvious signals that they are uninterested in conversation or being in closer physical proximity and are ignored. They don’t wonder about all those daily social interactions in which women are quieter, ignored, or invisible, because those social interactions seem normal. They seem normal to women, and they seem normal to men, because we were all raised in the same cultural pond, drinking the same Kool-Aid.
And then, all of a sudden, when women are raped, all these natural and invisible social interactions become evidence that the woman wasn’t truly raped. Because she didn’t fight back, or yell loudly, or run, or kick, or punch. She let him into her room when it was obvious what he wanted. She flirted with him, she kissed him. She stopped saying no, after a while.
” —Harriet J on Another post about rape (via archenemies)