qpr rights @s1e1pilot - Tumblr Blog

Posts

guooey

— Joseph Fink and Jeffrey Cranor, Welcome to Night Vale

#favorite #new pinned??#hmm #wtnv #yes new pinned post

ashleyloob

slut era

#2023

farewell-to-lorien

Annihilation Inside Artwork, by Eric Nyquist.

aropride

i get what dads r talking abt when they say theyre “just resting their eyes” this shit is awesome

mollyjames

I think it's important to remember, as a rule of thumb, if you take advantage of a social service, it actually makes it easier for other people who need that service to access it. Most of the time, when these services get cut, it's because politicians will look at usage and say "see, no one is really using this thing, we can afford to trim the budget for food stamps by at least half". Whereas if you decide to step up and use these programs, even if you feel like you "don't really need it", at bare minimum it's another data point advocates can use to say "hey, look, people are using this thing, this is an important service we are providing, do not cut our funding".

mollyjames

Also, this is kind of a separate but related issue: don't wait until you're literally in debt with no food in the fridge and rent due in a week to look for help. You'd be surprised how many programs are at your disposal. Hell, I just found out to qualify for low-income housing assistance, you only need to make 80% less than the state's median income. (Spoiler: we make waaaay less than 80%.)

Stop thinking of yourself as temporarily embarrassed middle-class. If you're poor, you're poor. Check online, check your local library, get some help. Don't wait until you're on death's door to learn this stuff.

littlespacecase

Yeah I just found out that if you’re already on food stamps you automatically qualify to get $30 off your cell phone bill. It’s called the Affordable Connectivity Program

wordfather

not enough hugging in media. there should be much more hugging and hand holding if you ask me

valtsv

guy looking up "i think i like men" on his phone immediately after losing a fight with another man

#this post is about teru #written by teru #mp100

brainless-moe-white-lotus

Installation art haters don't know how to sit in an uncomfortable room that makes you feel something you've never felt before

feeshies

Remind me to make a longer post about this later, but I think there's an interesting similarity in the way nonbinary (or genderqueer people in general) talk about the nuances of their gender and how people really big into specific music scenes talk about the nuances of the genres they listen to. Like there's the description you give other people in your community, and the "normie" description you give to people who aren't as familiar. And "genre" and "gender" are both constructs in similar ways too. Just my little binary observation tho.

I'll expand more on this later. But anyway, start asking people what genre they are and what gender of music they listen to.

feeshies

here's that longer post, but keep in mind i'm halfway through a bottle of soju rn

so as a binary trans person, i often had a difficult time understanding the really specific genders and gender identities i'll see. obviously i'll still support them, but i had trouble understanding. and that's just because my gender journey has been different.

sometimes (in less than positive circles) i'll see bad faith arguments against people with these genders like "the census isn't going to mark you down as 'catgender' lmao" which is annoying because i've never seen anyone say that?

the thesis of this post started to prickle in my head when i saw genderqueer mutuals of mine reblogging that post that was like "what is the gender identity you describe yourself as around cis people, and what's the specific one you actually identify as?" reading through people's responses and the way they described the nuances of their genders made me go

"oh shit, it's all music"

because if i'm listening to altar of plagues and my coworker asks what kind of music i'm listening to, i'm just going to say "metal". and if my grandma asks, i'll just say "rock". but if i'm talking to another person who i know is familiar with metal, that's when i feel like i wouldn't be wasting my breath going into specifics. because i know they'd know how describing a band as "black metal" is different than describing one as "power metal" or whatever.

that's what a lot of bad faith arguments around nonbinary genders don't seem to realize. they're not for the cishet majority to understand. i'd even argue that they're not for binary trans people to understand either, considering it took me this long to understand.

but it seems like when people talk about their gender through the lens of anything that goes beyond just male, female, or even strictly nonbinary, it comes from a place of wanting to discuss the nuances of gender identity.

like here's an interaction between two hip-hop heads that has never happened:

person 1: i like memphis rap -- specifically horrorcore.

person 2: okay, i have no followup questions. let's talk about something that has nothing to do with rap or music.

like if someone is coming out as cloudgender to you, it's because they think you're someone who can hang and talk about what that means. what does "cloudgender" mean to you? is it the constantly-shifting state? the association with the weather? the moodiness? the same way two people could have a 6 hour heated discussion about the differences between delta blues and hill country blues, but if you played a charley patton song back to back with an rl burnside song, some people who aren't familiar with blues won't be able to tell the difference. you might as well play the same song twice. so if someone identifies as a demigirl in some circles but to you they just say they're nonbinary or even just "female", they clocked you as a gender normie lol.

and just like gender, genre "doesn't exist", but it still has societal impact. a lot of the blues i listen to wouldn't sound out of place next to country artists. where are the lines? race? class? culture? all of the above? and this becomes muddier when you look at marketing. being plastered with a specific genre can be the kiss of death for your mainstream career, or the thing that pushes you to the top. it's a social construct, but we are social people.

anyway, i hope this makes sense. as a binary trans person i'm not sure where i fit in this analogy. maybe it's like i listened to a bunch of specific subgenres and went like "yeah these all scratch the same itch for me". but if people find meaning within the nichest of niche genres, i think that's amazing. you are an onion and you just kept peeling. when i see people with identities like bloodgender or flowergender, i see someone with a much more nuanced and complex relationship with their gender than i ever could have. i see poetry. i see music.

the booze is catching up with me.

prierepaiienne

someone mentioned it in the notes but ‘genre’ is gender in french, they are the same latin word. this concept is not just similar or analogous - it is literally the same concept

chalksoul

This is an amazing way to think about it, and it feels exactly how I feel about what use I use in what context about my gender

redlipstickresurrected

Jolene Lai (Singaporean, b. 1980, Singapore, based LA, CA, USA) - Ginger, 2021 from A Beautiful Haunting, Paintings: Oil on Cradled Wood Panel

aridante

“After learning my flight was detained 4 hours, I heard the announcement: if anyone in the vicinity of gate 4-A understands any Arabic, please come to the gate immediately. Well—one pauses these days. Gate 4-A was my own gate. I went there. An older woman in full traditional Palestinian dress, just like my grandma wore, was crumpled to the floor, wailing loudly. Help, said the flight service person. Talk to her. What is her problem? We told her the flight was going to be four hours late and she did this. I put my arm around her and spoke to her haltingly. Shu dow-a, shu-biduck habibti, stani stani schway, min fadlick, sho bit se-wee? The minute she heard any words she knew—however poorly used—she stopped crying. She thought our flight had been canceled entirely. She needed to be in El Paso for some major medical treatment the following day. I said no, no, we’re fine, you’ll get there, just late. Who is picking you up? Let’s call him and tell him. We called her son and I spoke with him in English. I told him I would stay with his mother until we got on the plane and would ride next to her—Southwest. She talked to him. Then we called her other sons just for the fun of it. Then we called my dad and he and she spoke for a while in Arabic and found out, of course, they had ten shared friends. Then I thought just for the heck of it why not call some Palestinian poets I know and let them chat with her. This all took up about 2 hours. She was laughing a lot by then. Telling about her life. Answering questions. She had pulled a sack of homemade mamool cookies—little powdered sugar crumbly mounds stuffed with dates and nuts—out of her bag—and was offering them to all the women at the gate. To my amazement, not a single woman declined one. It was like a sacrament. The traveler from Argentina, the traveler from California, the lovely woman from Laredo—we were all covered with the same powdered sugar. And smiling. There are no better cookies. And then the airline broke out the free beverages from huge coolers—non-alcoholic—and the two little girls from our flight, one African American, one Mexican American—ran around serving us all apple juice and lemonade, and they were covered with powdered sugar, too. And I noticed my new best friend—by now we were holding hands—had a potted plant poking out of her bag, some medicinal thing with green furry leaves. Such an old country traveling tradition. Always carry a plant. Always stay rooted to somewhere. And I looked around that gate of late and weary ones and thought, this is the world I want to live in. The shared world. Not a single person in this gate—once the crying of confusion stopped—has seemed apprehensive about any other person. They took the cookies. I wanted to hug all those other women, too. This can still happen anywhere. Not everything is lost.”

— Naomi Shihab Nye (b. 1952), “Wandering Around an Albuquerque Airport Terminal.”