ཐི minerva ཋྀ

they | 22

[maggotpaws]

welcome !! i mostly repost and rant on here:) im really interested in 1960s-00s films, rasputina, old video games, disney history, TWD, darkwave, my little pony, and old soviet animated films !

A lot of my older posts are from when i was in high school. Back then i was super into the cutecore community and sanrio and stuff. That’s why things look different now :)

[the-lincyclopedia]

Is it just me or does having a positive interaction with a stranger scratch a very particular itch? I think it's the reassurance that the world is not split solely into people who already love you and people who never will.

[writeswrongs]

I was supposed to give a speech to over a thousand people today at a labor rally, but the rally was planned mostly around white union organizers who have not been to ICE recently or maybe ever. I say this because they planned this as follows: a Rally, with a march to ICE, followed by a second half of a Rally, the second half of which was to include my speech, which seemingly was the only speech to include a Salvadoran migrant speaker.

I was not originally invited to speak, but heard last minute that someone else had fallen ill and was giving up their slot, and begged white organizers through the grape vine to let me speak as a Salvadoran migrant and union steward who came to the US at age 7.

I have long been soured of going to so many rallies and felt alienated that they were allegedly for or about my people, but that no one had thought people /like/ me exist - we are still here! There are migrants in your work spaces and neighborhoods and organizations, we have stories and labor songs and speeches to share, we are marxists and labor organizers and have reasons to speak out too.

But seldom if ever do you hear our music or faces or voices near the banners. Instead of Tigres Del Norte we heard Bella Ciao, and none of the singers knew the Italian words or bothered to even translate them, so they sang nanananananana, instead of the powerful lyrics that maybe meant something once to someone somewhere. Instead of Somos Más Americanos we heard Don’t Worry, Be Happy.

Instead of a Salvadoran woman who wanted to speak to the American union workers about the Banana workers unions, we heard from a dozen white people about democracy, and justice, and the constitution, and no one was warned about what would happen if they marched down the street from the park to the ICE facility. They fully expected everyone to come back and complete the second half of the rally.

Instead, marchers with their dogs and children were tear-gassed to hell and back the second they dared get close to the facility, maybe at best 1/3rd of the marchers returned while the rest were bottlenecked towards ICE. There was little to no water to treat the untrained protestors. I returned to the rally quickly realizing I could not get caught up at ICE, knowing who I am and what awaits me.

When I got back a chorus of smiling white faces sang a silly song like a Christmas carol with their heads bobbling, reading the lyrics from some handed out papers. White people with upside down flags cheered. Then a black woman in overalls abruptly got on the mic and said “Well thank you everyone but we have to close the program early because people are getting tear-gassed, please get home to safety righty away,” - and I swore I couldn’t believe my ears.

They had brought us all here, marched all these people down to the ICE facility, and expected us all to march back without encountering teargas? And then when some people had made it back they had them sing a little jingle but turned the one migrant away? I begged them to let me speak for the three minutes I had allotted, noting that I had put myself in serious danger to come out here today. That I needed to be heard just this once, and that all the white people had their fair turn to say many unrelated things, and to sing many unrelated songs.

She said, “you don’t understand, there are children down here,” and I had to say “you don’t understand, there are children in the camps.”

And she tried again, “yes but the gas is spreading,” and I said “yes we have been down here being gassed for six months, don’t you understand?”

She blinked twice and told me they just had to break down. I watched from the sidelines as they continued to blare Caribbean Blue and smooth jazz while people filtered out, stood around talking, chatting - finally I said, “please let me speak, you still have speakers going, it’s been 20 minutes,” and the DJ, a white elderly man in a sweater vest who had a strict “only the classics” policy that seems to actually mean “no hip hop and no curse words,” - barked at me that he had to break down and to help him take down his canopy. I am no maid, so I did not listen. He then turned to my comrades and told them to take his canopy down, which they did not. Then turned to his two other labor organizers who were not paying attention, and they took a leg of the canopy and moved it somewhere without breaking it down.

And one looked at me and said quietly, “it’s okay, take that bullhorn no one will notice,” and we took it and ran.

And we ran to a firetruck which I climbed, and I gave the speech, which was in fact more than 3 minutes, sorry not sorry, to a crowd of workers who were slowly pouring out from the ice facility, some stopping, some going, some who heard me, some who didn’t. And I gave it there and it was the only speech most of these people will ever hear from a migrant in all of this, and I think that is tragic. But I firmly believe that had I not given it, had I not climbed the truck, had I not taken the mic, some people would have never heard this story at all. And I think very much you should hear it. And I hope you will share it, if you have the chance. And I hope I get to tell it again, someday, to people who actually listen, to the masses who came to actually support immigrants, and not just to the dredges after they’ve been gassed and are running for shelter while I’m coughing myself.

This is what I had to say.

[transcriptroopers]

Transcribed for accessibility + added links for context, but please still watch/listen to the speech if possible. A live speech really resonates. Begin transcription.

Olivia: I came to the United States when I was 7 years old. And I became a citizen when I was 20. But I am on this stage to ask: if you will give me 3 minutes of your time, *cough* I will give you 300 years of American History that has been taken from you.

There are five crops that changed the world as we know it. Bananas. Coffee. Tobacco. Sugar. And Cotton.

First grown by slaves in the New World, these crops all happened to also grow in a little bean-shaped country that my parents lived in near the Caribbean called Cuzcatlan, ‘The Land of Precious Things.’ It would be renamed El Salvador in the 1800’s. 

But the precious things remained after the name changed. And the people were captured, and they were forced to work for pennies on the dollar to dredge the precious things from the soil, and the sea, and the mountains, and the sand. Cuzcatlan was not precious just to us, you see. It was coveted by the Americans. And once they saw our jewels, they would never be satisfied again. 

The people suffered. And how we suffered! Dying in the fields, raped by their masters, buried in the shining black volcanic sands, their blood fertilizing the crops.

Of Bananas. Coffee. Sugar. Cotton. And Tobacco.

Until one day, the people of Cuzcatlan said, ‘We can bear it no more.’ And they broke their shovels in half, and they plunged the stems into their masters, and they rode through the streets on their masters’ Spanish horses, and they cried out that Cuzcatlan would no longer belong to the American companies that demanded their precious things without paying precious prices. Perhaps, soon, those business leaders would learn to negotiate for the labor and crops they so needed.

And the Americans? The Americans could not stand it! They would not abide such a story be told. And so you never heard it! The American companies, and all of their corporate masters came down on Cuzcatlan, with a fury seldom seen before. They killed everyone.

Instead, you heard a story about “Communists” and “Terrorists” in Central America, spreading a disease that would destroy your country and families. You heard a story that we have no good will towards you. That we wanted you to starve, that we were lazy, and formed gangs, and were lawless, and wore weapons to sell you drugs and fund terrorism. 

But you never heard the story of Cuzcatlan, because it was a sad story, and sad stories do not sell fruit, and coffee, and cigarettes!

No, they came to my country, and they wiped out entire villages. The Archbishop, Don Remar - er, Don Romero, himself, was shot by the military during his Sunday Mass, for having dared to wonder whether the workers deserved some mercy. Assassinated for having dared to wonder, and he was left bleeding on the pulpit, even as worshippers bowed their heads. 

EVERYBODY was KILLED. 

EVERYBODY! The women, with their children still in their arms. Anyone looking for cover; people who found cover, people who didn’t. People who worked, and people who had no jobs. Communists. Catholics. Those who didn’t know how to read, those who didn’t know what labor rights were. Simple folks. Smart folks. 

And they didn’t stop there. They went through the countryside, and they killed everyone they thought was hiding labor organizers or communists sympathizers. Banana union men and women, who they labeled terrorists. And in one village, we still only speak about in whispers, called “El Mozote.” The Americans tied women and children to trees, and they threw their babies in the air, and they shot them. Everyone was killed, to send one message, and that is: “A union is a threat to the American Empire. Not one union man or woman will hide in your village, or any other. And if you hid one here, now or ever, you will never breathe to hide one again."

And I tell you this because I am you from the future. You and I, all of you, are very much alike. You worked very hard to buy the precious things you have from the ground, the sky, the water, and the aether. You all wrote stories, you filed insurance policies, you taught children, you rung people up, you made sure whatever sorry system they had worked, not because you believed in it, not because you wanted it, but because it was all you could do. 

And in exchange, they offered you cheap bananas. Coffee. Sugar. Tobacco. Bananas.

But I will tell you a secret. They were never cheap. They were precious. And so are you. 

And they stole you, and they stole us, and they stole it all, and they told you: if you look the other way, you get to be satisfied and at least well-fed. But who can afford the luxuries of cigarettes or vapes or groceries anymore? Even that is being taken from you. And even if you have them, your food or your small pleasures won’t satisfy you. Not more than knowing the truth about Cuzcatlan, not more than knowing the truth about El Salvador. Today, where our precious land once stood, they built a concentration camp called CECOT. And not just for our precious things, our people, but yours. Your citizens, your dissenters, your unwanted disappeared into the hole that America built. 

And what will we do when they start building incinerators at the camps? What will you do when they open up mass graves? 

For our people, the most precious gift of all: do not take my warning lightly. The story of Cuzcatlan is not just from the past. It is from the future. The workers face the same enemy, and the enemy never had your interest in mind. From the moment they had you, the plan was to have a worker. From the moment you existed, it was to create another soldier against the people of Cuzcatlan and the rest of the world. You were a commodity to them. 

But we have written you a new future. One in which we no longer point guns at each other. One in which our billionaires fear the land of precious people from learning they are no longer precious things. 

Turn to me now! And tell me you will not forget the last three minutes. You will never again be ignorant of this story. And you will not let it happen here. You will close the camps. You will destroy ICE.

Spectator: Yeah! Olivia: You would rather have seasonal bananas or never see one again than have it covered in blood. 

Spectators: That’s right! Yeah! 

Olivia: You would rather trade fairly with other union workers than kill your fellow man, wouldn’t you? 

Spectators: Yes! Olivia: Tell me you love me, and that our fates are tied! Tell me you’ll stop them from dragging me down from this place, and I’ll never let them do to you what they did to us. I promise. El pueblo unido…

Spectator: JAMÀS SERÀ VENCIDO!

Olivia: Nunca será vencido. Amen.

End Transcription.

[writeswrongs]

It means a lot to me, that someone wrote down this speech for me, that I in the middle of the night wrote for as a love letter to the American labor movement.

I know I stuttered a bit, as I had just been gassed, as it took place not but 400 feet maybe from the Portland ICE facility.

One correction among many tiny ones:

“You worked very hard to /ply/ the precious things you have from the ground, the sky, the water, and the aether.” - And that work, it is very precious.

May the message make it to you all regardless.

[thiingamajiig]

different, but the same

[bonefarm]

Get rid of your fucking Ring cameras holy shit. That was one of the most chilling ads I’ve ever seen

[creekfiend]

😰😰😰😰😰

[maggotpaws]

🔨🔨🔨

[redstonedust]

i could never handle immortality not because of any existential reasons but because i know itd make my procrastination so much worse. catch me putting off tasks for decades. catch me putting off tasks for centuries. what do you mean that movie ive been meaning to get around to became lost media 40 years ago. what do you mean that landmark ive been meaning to visit has been eroded. oooh i got PLANY of time..............

[frostedmagnolias]

let us not forget all the people who are in ICE custody right now who are NOT "documented" citizens. let us not dehumanize anybody due to legal status. they deserve justice and safety just as much as those with documented status.

[maggotpaws]

for my moms birthday this year i moshed while she slept on the couch

[pastacrylic]

if i lived in the mlp universe id feel like god frolicking in the fields of freedom as my lucious locks flowed like rivers through the breeze and id kick thst purple dragon in the fuvking face with my hind legs

hey now be nice to spike this is a spike appreciation blog

[okieduckie]

[pixiecloud248]

Flutterbat

❀ Comments and shares are highly appreciated!

#mlpart #mlp #mylittlepony #mlpoc #mlpfim #mlpfanart #art #mylittleponyfriendshipismagic #mlpartist #pony #digitalart #mylittleponyart #mlpdrawing #ponygram #mlpg #oc #mlpedit #brony #mlpfandom #mlpadopt #twilightsparkle #rainbowdash #ponyart #applejack #fluttershy #pinkiepie #mlpartwork #rarity #friendshipismagic #drawing

[jjwphotography1990]

"Target. Maximum firepower!"

.

Disney's Hollywood Studios Park, Florida

.

#atat #endor #startours #maythe4thbewithyou #starwars #starwarsfan #waltdisneyworld #hollywoodstudios #disneyhollywoodstudios #disney #disneyworld #disneyparks #disneygram #disneyphotography #disneyfan #disneymagic #orlando #florida #floridalife #themepark #themeparkphotography #themeparklife #photography #pictureoftheday #photooftheday #picoftheday #canon #canoneosr #eosr #canonphotography

[pastacrylic]

thinking about the fucking screenshot spell twilight used once

[maggotpaws]

how did i forget abt this

[aintnxgrave-deactivated20180705]

[maggotpaws]

im starting to draw my own pony ocs, but im having trouble coming up with backstory and personality details. could anyone give me some advice on how to go about it ? or do i just have a skill issue 💀

[janeacular]

Every MLP character is Pagan

my proof? Friendship is magic. they celebrate solstices and equinoxes. their queen is named Celestia and her sister is named luna. Twilight is teaching herself magic while idolizing a wizard from ancient times and working under the pony representation of THE SUN. And Everypony has a connection with nature; Watch winter wrap up and try to deny it. So here are my headcanons for the mane six coven squeee Twilight Sparkle –  The most historically knowledgeable, she collects ancient texts and makes comprehensible lessons for her friends during the solstices and equinoxes. Very structured and routine practices.  Wants to visit Stonehenge for midsummer but also wants to visit Kukulcan for the descent of the serpent. Hasn’t gone to either because every year when the holiday comes around she becomes indecisive and just stays home. Struggles with divination Pinkie pie – Strongest in the group at divination, takes care of her tarot card deck like it’s a baby crocodile, never misses a holiday or full moon for the chance at a party in celebration. Tried to keep a grimoire but failed when she forgot about it and baked it into a cake. Huge energy witch. Is on the lookout for signs from a deity but can’t seem to figure out who’s calling to her. Or even from what mythology. Talks to the deity out loud despite this. Fluttershy –  A hex from her could be life destroying due to her connection with animals and nature, hasn’t used this power on anybody. She has wards at the boarders of her property and cleanses the space almost obsessively to keep herself and her pets safe. Knows how to tea read. Has some mind reading capabilities for close friends, it’s a side effect from being able to effortlessly read the minds of her animals. Uses healing spells when her familiar (angel) is sick Rarity – is the most aesthetically pleasing and meticulously perfect witch, best altars in town, either works with Aphrodite or really really wanted to before realizing a different deity was reaching out to her. Has both a grimoire that she keeps up to date and a manifestations journal that she holds with even higher regard. Doesn’t keep candles without jars due to the mess. Knows so much about crystal magic that even twilight asks her about the subject. Rainbowdash – Would describe herself as “non practicing” but is so superstitious it’s disruptive. Would participate in any celebration or ritual her friends asked her to, but doesn’t usually think about doing much else outside of just ~feeling~ pagan. Has had her most powerful religious experiences in the air. Claims it’s no big deal that she works with Nike but her altar is the only clean spot in rainbowdash’s house. When confronted she claims it’s for “luck” during races and that she doesn’t even do deity work. Applejack – Has family-specific practices that are closed off to others. Shockingly devout. Her and fluttershy share the same connection with nature. Doesn’t know the “official” terminology for what she does, butts heads with twilight when she tries to be analytical about apple’s practices. Is teaching pinkie how to be a kitchen witch, that’s going exactly how you’d expect. Little sister wanted to have an alter in the house, when she eventually didn’t like how it came out applejack told her that great apple Acres is their family’s altar.

[101tibuuki101]

Redrawing time!

I was reading a random mlp comic and saw this scene, I couldn't help but want to draw it in my style and experiment a bit! In fact, I recorded a timelapse and I don't know where to upload it, I'll have to make myself a YouTube channel HSHHS

This is one of my favorite ships, but I have one more that earns the top spot, I'll make a fanart for it accordingly!