I maintain that the best summation of my feminist beliefs are that men and women are not fundamentally different. There are a few quantifiable differences if you average out every woman and every man, but they are not qualitative. And most of them are socially constructed, and would be fixed if we started treating men and women the same. Neither is inherently smarter, neither is inherently kinder, neither is inherently more stoic or stronger or angrier or softer. Everyone is obsessed with the differences between women and men, with finding them and creating them and distancing themselves from the "other half". It's fucked up
I was talking with a friend yesterday about how dog-piling can disincentivize people from doing what is ostensibly being asked for (taking accountability, apologizing, promising to make changes to future behaviour, etc). which sucks, because there are probably well intentioned people out there who deserve all three of those things, but any sort of Statement just ends up dumping gasoline on the fire.
this is because: you are giving the worst people involved the attention they want, you're giving them Fresh Drama Content, and you're letting them know that you can be made to do things. it's not in their interest to say "alright, you've worded things a bit clumsily, but you're on the right track and we think you mean well," because that ends the party.
and if you're thinking, who cares about what randos on tumblr say, your main concern should be acting in accordance to your morals – WELL! if you're a creative whose income is tied to your online reputation, these sorts of campaigns can directly impact your ability to pay bills. which can be very, very scary. and if you're any flavour of marginalized, you probably came onto a site like tumblr seeking community, and the thought of losing that community can be painful. in these cases, the best way to survive a dog-piling is "grey-rocking", or making yourself as boring and non-reactive as possible until their attention shifts to other targets. which means no statements.
so just to summarize: you are rewarded for ignoring everything, and heavily punished for apologizing and taking accountability, and yes, that is fucked up.
im about to catsit next month for a (lovingly) crazy woman who is so deeply obsessed with her cat's care its touching truly. he needs insulin shots and she is telling me that shes going to send voice notes to my phone of her saying "copo! baby! its time for your insulin!" "come here handsome!" "its insulin time sweetie!" so that he feels safe getting his insulin from a stranger. im like girl i love it. i love this
she was telling me yesterday "sometimes i look at him and he looks at me and i feel like we can hear each other's thoughts. is that crazy" and i was like "no of course not"
Hey guys things got really serious here and I'm freaking out because we had to get rid of some of our belongings since we couldn't drag them around, plus we don't have a Lyft. It's hot and my asthma is acting up.
I never imagined I’d be in this position, but I’m reaching out because my mom, our three… Benji Y needs your support for Help Us Find Safety
I had to make another gofundme, nothing we are doing is helping and relatives won't help us and let us stay stranded outside. It's hot and there are no hotels that are cheap this weekend. Again we don't have any open shelters. The rest is in the link.
I'm sorry again but I'm in need of a lot of help and this time it's dire. Mostly for my mental health. I've spiraled so hard this morning I want it to stop.
my overall opinion of the whole "i became a white nationalist because people called me racist for no reason" talking point is that while I do think spurious accusations of bigotry are a problem, if your immediate reaction to being called racist is to become an actual white nationalist then it sounds like they were right about you being racist. like I don't think that accusation was spurious.
I'm a pacifist like institutionally but I'm absolutely certain that violence solves at least some problems on a much smaller level. I don't believe in wars or nuclear weapons or military campaigns I do believe in the power of that guy who punched the nazi in the face so hard his entire media presence immediately crumbled to dust
I don't watch streamers but there's that one northernlion clip where he's like "you've added nothing to the conversation get in the crystal" and honestly it's changed how I moderate my comments. cause often you get the commenter who thinks being ironically weird is funny. like haha look at how I'm not taking any of this seriously. and before I would've been like I mean I guess this isn't outright offensive or anything. but now I'm like. this adds nothing to the conversation, get in the crystal. and the crystal is getting blocked you see
theres too many pokemon games where you play as a kid whos full of life and full of potential. there needs to be a pokemon game where you play as a college dropout who lives in a shitty apartment
your starter pokemon are trubbish, rattata and glameow. which symbolise the trash you keep forgetting to take out, the rats living in your walls and the stray cat you keep trying to befriend but it keeps hissing at you.
you guys dont get it its not supposed to be dark and edgy its supposed to be living in a mundane setting and slowly rediscovering the wonder in the world by going on a journey with a magical trash bag that is your friend, its about love and recovery and coping with the stress of your adult life with your friend who is made of sentient garbage
You get home from work. Finally. The sun's already set outside your apartment window. At least your apartment has a window.
You discard most of your work uniform in the corner with the other laundry and click on the TV before landing in your couch with a heavy sigh. The blue light of the TV floods the otherwise dark room.
"Joining us today for an exclusive interview is Red, four time Pokemon League Champion, who also famously disbanded criminal organization Team Rocket at least twice! Thank you so much for tuning in."
Pokemon league champion, huh? You think to yourself. You used to want that. A child's dream - it was silly, really....
You'd heard of Red - of course you have, you don't live under a rock - but this was the first time seeing them up close, no filter. They looked tired. They actually looked about your age.
"Now Red," the reporter continued, "You've already told us about your travels through the world, your experiences as Champion, and your fight against Team Rocket and similar criminal organizations. I know we're almost out of time but there's one last thing we'd like to hear from you - do you have any words for the future generation of Pokemon trainers? Any advice for those just at the start of their journey?"
The Champion waited a moment before answering: "Yes. I meet a lot of people. A lot of people who used to want to be trainers. And I understand, it's not for everyone. But, people say 'Oh, you're still going at your age?' or 'Oh, I wanted to when I was younger,' or 'Oh, I couldn't now, I'm too old.'" Red shook their head sadly. "These people are my age, maybe even younger. They're wrong. It doesn't matter how old you are and it never did. It doesn't matter if you never got a Pokemon from the local professor at ten years old. It's not just for children. It's for everyone. The bond between people and Pokemon is not something you miss out on just because you had to grow up."
Red pauses again, and you realize you're paying more attention to the program than you thought you were.
"Pokemon are everywhere. The world is filled with magic. It's never too late."
"It's never too late..." you repeat under your breath. Something about the Champion's words clicked inside your brain. The world is full of magic....
As if on cue, sounds from within your apartment catch your attention: Rustling in your garbage can, scrabbling inside the wall, clawing at your window.
Cautiously you approach your trash can. It smells terrible, but then again it always does. You slowly lift the lid, and the rubbish inside shifts to reveal a green bag with white eyes. You knew that Trubbish were born from waste and preferred unsanitary environments, but you didn't think it'd been that long since you took the trash out.
The Pokemon shuffles to try and hide and knocks the bin over in doing so, spilling itself out onto the floor. You chuckle a bit.
"I guess now the trash can take itself out," you joke. The Trubbish seems upset by the quip. "Oh no, no, it's ok," you correct yourself, trying to spare its feelings. You find this creature, born of rubbish against its will, to be relatable. After all, you didn't ask to be in this trash heap either.
"It's ok," you repeat, more softly this time. "I'm. I'm trash too."
The stench from the trash can starts to dissipate as the Trubbish's... bag ties? ears? perk up at the attempted sympathy.
[A bond has been formed.]
~~~
[INVESTIGATE WALL]
You'd always blamed the noises coming through the walls on the neighbors, but this is too close to deny: it simply isn't a human-made noise. You locate a crack in the wall that you hadn't noticed before. The sound is getting louder. The sound is getting closer.
A piece of drywall crumbles away. You have just long enough to think Damn, I'm not getting my deposit back, before a very startled Rattata leaps through the newly made hole and bowls you over. You land badly on your ankle and let out a cry of pain, crashing to the floor.
That's definitely sprained... you think, holding your injured foot as you lie there in temporary shock. The Rattata seems apologetic. It vanishes back into the wall for a moment.
You swear. At least you have a compression bandage in your first aid kit. While you contemplate how best to stand without putting yourself in further pain, the Pokemon reappears, carrying a small blue fruit in its mouth. It drops the fruit beside you and rolls it towards you with a paw.
An Oran Berry, you recognize. Of course - Pokemon eat berries when they're hurt. Touched by the gesture, or perhaps not wanting to hurt the little creature's feelings, you take a bite.
It tastes terrible, but you power through it; you've eaten worse. Either by the berry's healing properties or the Pokemon's kindness, your pain eases a little.
[A bond has been formed.]
~~~
[INVESTIGATE WINDOW]
You go to your window and struggle for a moment to pull up the tattered blinds. You see two glowing eyes in the darkness. A Pokemon? They certainly don't look human, anyways. As a matter of fact, they seem familiar. The impatient scratching continues.
You open the window. A small, cat-like Pokemon hops inside, as if indignant at being kept waiting. You recognize this pokemon by the notch in its ear as the stray Glameow you've been trying to befriend.
It hisses at you. Which, for this particular Pokemon, is typical. As you go to shut the window you notice that it's favoring one of its legs while it walks.
Is it injured? Did it come to you for help? You were pretty certain this pokemon hated you. But, sure enough, you notice a cut on the Glameow's leg as it hops up onto your couch, as if it already lived here.
The Glameow seems to be avoiding eye contact. It occurs to you that it may have had no where else to go. You rummage through your cupboards to try and find a remedy. You remember seeing on the news that lemonade can be used in place of medicine for Pokemon who are injured. Moo Moo Milk is better, but you don't have any. You stopped buying it because it always spoils before you remember to drink it.
You had exactly one can of lemonade left. You crack it open and pour it into a bowl. The Glameow hisses again when you offer it, but soon gives the liquid a sniff before drinking it slowly.
You never realized how quickly Pokemon could heal. After it finishes its drink, it allows you to pat it on the head...
... for about two seconds before it hisses again. Still, the little Pokemon doesn't try to escape. It simply curls up on your couch and falls asleep.
Genuinely surprised to see this from Jamie p and super glad as well. I feel like it's become such a pattern of seeing white queer creators casually say some racist shit or something to come out and then never properly apologize.
So seeing Jamie Paige be outright "No fuck y'all stupid racist white teens, she'd rather stop making music catering to you than let you make a fool of her art" is incredibly refreshing and makes me glad that to be a fan of hers and feel both seen and comfortably safe knowing that for once someone has the decency not to be a racist piece of shit!
Also go listen to Slayr right now! I remember hearing a couple of his songs before, and liking all of them, and this one is no different. Honestly I hope we get to see more hip-hop sampling and remixes of vocaloid music because its so so cool and wish it was done more often.
And hey this is also directed at all you fuck ass "rap is overstimulating" idiots on Tumblr too!
Something else I think is important to add to this post as well :]
A bit more self explanatory, but I'm glad he's confident to state it for the people in the back that Vocaloid isn't just a white people thing. It's a bit bittersweet to me in a sense that a lot of black creators online feel the need to hide themselves, but I definitely understand (I'm guilty of this sometime too the way Tumblr acts sometimes) but I'm glad to see that people are being more openly anti racist for once and I hope this trend doesn't stop.
Also I know it's already his most popular song, but it is such a banger too, go listen to this and the rest of his vocaloid music too!
Mafia boss smoking a cigar: Why’d you gotta squeal, Squealin’ Stephen? I trusted you. Now I gotta send my best goons to show you what happens when you cross the Big Boss…
Guy tied up in chair: uh…theres just one guy over there.
Mafia boss: Yeah. That’s Lil’ Tony. He’s got one of dem conditions where he’s got multiple mooks n’ his head. But when Big Tony fronts you’re gonna be in big trouble.
Lil’ Tony: We actually all agree we’re gonna kick your ass.
A few years ago while trying to find ways to commit suicide as painlessly as possible, I came across a PDF of Dr. Paul Quinnett's The Forever Decision. Thinking it might go into actual methods of suicide (I read an article once that actually did that and was trying to find it again) I started to read it, and I think I only got about two pages in before I was crying too much to actually see the words.
I downloaded the PDF to my hard drive and I open it again whenever I'm feeling too suicidal to do much else, but not enough to start booking a ride to the hospital. And every time without fail I only go up to a few pages before backing off and choosing to live another day just because suicide suddenly seems even more unbearable than whatever the hell upset me in the first place.
All the book really does is [I'm pulling a summary from GoodReads here as, again, I've read no more than 5 pages] "discusses the social aspects of suicide, the right to die, anger, loneliness, depression, stress, hopelessness, drug and alcohol abuse, the consequences of a suicide attempt, and how to get help."
But it also starts with the author kindly asking the reader to complete the book before going through with anything, and for some reason I'm compelled to really just try to read it all before finalizing everything. Despite not yet completing it (hopefully never will) I think I can safely say it's saved my life at least a few times now.
It's intentionally legal to copy and redistribute this book to keep it as accessible as possible, and it's very easy to find, but here's a link for it anyways.
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