State of The Blog, February 2025, or As I Type This
CW: Politics, general downer.
I promised myself I wouldn't write about this. Guess this post makes me a liar, aside from a humble kink-maker. I also promised myself I wouldn't complain, and that I won't do. Things are fine. Texts are being written. The smut is flowing, even if slowly- or less rapidly than either of us would like, dear reader.
Now... shit sure is fucked, huh? Not the most eloquent way of putting it, I know. But who has time for rhetoric these days? And I'm not even American! But I happen to know that a large portion of my little corner o'smut here hails from the USA. I have lived there myself. I have, perhaps, something of a romantic streak when it comes to what America could be. Sadly, it's not what it could be that we have to deal with.
Things are moving quickly. This is not by accident.
As I type this, the richest man in the world has gathered an unfathomable trove of data from the US government. Illegally, of course, but it appears such things no longer matter.
As I type this, information on gender and trans issues is being erased from government websites.
As I type this, self-ID is no longer a thing for my non-binary and transgender American friends, acquaintances and readers.
As I type this, ICE is raiding workplaces, schools, churches.
As I type this, someone has lost funding for life-changing research.
As I type this. the US is getting into a trade war on three fronts. All casualties in this war will be, as is always the case, the working people. On all sides.
The casualties of all these things will not be heralded. They will not the announced or published. They will be silent, in the form of people rationing medicine they need to live, getting sick from the cold and not being able to afford a doctor, perhaps choosing to not go on anymore in a world that seems to scream in their face that they don't matter, they are not wanted, they are Other.
You are shocked and traumatized because that's the point. To shock you into paralysis, so you won't have the bandwidth or time or energy to react- your reaction is what they fear.
I am nothing important. I make stuff to get people off. What right to I have to say anything to anyone who is really suffering? What the fuck can I do? Provide some escapism? Perhaps. It is useful, insofar as burning out on doomer shit helps absolutely no one. I'm nowhere near a front line, so to speak. Perhaps I'm being delusional thinking I am contributing something worth fuck all to people, but hey, I can do delusion. Or hope. It's hard to tell them apart sometimes.
I can't tell you to fight. I can't start preaching about the importance of community. I can't tell you what to do. It's not my place, and it's not my expertise. I'm not here to play armchair resistance, and neither are you. You are here for kink, and so kink I shall give you.
But I couldn't do the State of the Blog and let this go unremarked. As futile as it may be, as stupid as it sounds (and I am aware of the ass I'm making out of myself here), I just wanted you all to know you ARE wanted, you CAN handle this. Shit is bleak. But it won't be bleak forever, because YOU won't let it. The dawn is in your hands. And when you need a break and want to read smut, I'll be here.
Oh, and before I go, just in case anyone isn't clear:
Life is not on your side, you absolute dogfuckers. It never has been, and it never will be.
ellievsbear
tangentwithtanner
