Turn my haters to consumers / I make vets feel like they juniors 📿⛪️🕯️
styofa doing anything
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda

★
i don't do bad sauce passes
Claire Keane
DEAR READER
NASA

titsay
Show & Tell
Today's Document
todays bird
Jules of Nature
One Nice Bug Per Day
$LAYYYTER
Cosimo Galluzzi
cherry valley forever
Sweet Seals For You, Always
KIROKAZE
occasionally subtle
Three Goblin Art

seen from Iraq
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States

seen from Türkiye
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seen from France

seen from United States
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seen from Singapore

seen from Brazil
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seen from Switzerland
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seen from Iraq
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@sodapopsam
Turn my haters to consumers / I make vets feel like they juniors 📿⛪️🕯️
Sorry I'm gonna get myself so cancelled for this one but I have found it....interesting....how much the HR fandom fixates on slurs as THE mechanism of homophobia and racism, sometimes to the exclusion of anything else. I think it must be an age thing. Cause hot take alert but like. Given their ages and situations I don't think that Shane and Ilya would be all that worked up about slurs. Can I explain. Are you already mad at me
You know when you grow up used to certain things, and used to certain treatment, like being called the f-slur (when everyone's calling everyone the f-slur, from the guy on the opposing team everyone hates to the janitor who brings in cupcakes sometimes). Slurs don't register because they're not material. Yes they're bad I'm not defending slurs (obviously). But especially from two guys from who mental fortitude would be expected and highly prized I just think they'd shrug a lot of it off. Maybe years later, in therapy, they'd finally unpack it
Anyway that's also why I think Barrett joking about Shane and Ilya fucking is a bigger deal than slurs---it gets more directly at the place where Shane is materially weak and could lose something.
Also I think the more material ways they'd be dealing with homophobia would be more front of mind. Being iced out. Loss of respect in the room. Being excluded from plays in a way that tanks their numbers / stats. Being pulled off the ice. Lower pay, loss of endorsements, that kind of thing. "Pranks" in the locker room that bleed over into just harassment (hiding tape, ruining equipment, cutting sticks the wrong length, etc). And yeah, the threat of physical violence and assault (I do understand why many people don't want to go here)
The ultimate and biggest insult I can imagine is Shane being pressured to ask for his name to be left off or covered up on the Stanley Cup engraving
i also want to add some stuff, bearing in mind that this was North America circa maybe 1995-2020. My main references are my own experiences online & offline specifically on productively countering/engaging w discrimination, "ICE IN THEIR VEINS: HOW BLACK PLAYERS PERSEVERED THROUGH HOCKEY’S HISTORY OF DISCRIMINATION" a 2018 thesis via interview with multiple NHL players of color (active in 1990-2010) and just all the random ball knowledge i have.
But man slurs are annoying but very little. Via Ice in Their Veins and common sense, slurs are quick and easy because by 2010 everyone knows what they mean and that its meant to hurt. but conversely? slurs are so fucking easy to stop. Not in a genuine way, but in the daily, boring bandage over problem way every professional will notice. Word bad is so easy. Via Ice in their Veins, but from other NHL players/staff, the slurs are the biggest thing to dry up. Because at that level it is so easy to call a ref or use your millionaire money or even have a stray twitter video call viral bcus you called your star a slur. And in NHL (& team sports but also specifically the fraternalistic, hypermasc culture that hockey is in), part of the culture is the 'bro code'. Black NHL athletes have talked how once they went pro, their linemates/team would actually fight opposing teams who use slurs.
And I will add, this does line up to many ppls experiences. there ARE lines, as nebulous as they are. and people will cross it bcus they know itll get a reaction but EVERYONE knows and considers it a line, the same way punching someone for saying "you moms an ugly whore" will get you "eh i get it, he shouldnt have done that" even if they laugh a bit.
Once you have the power, it is actually very feasible to get obvious bullshit like this to stop, and prior that, in the juniors & AHL? its mind over matter. It sucks greatly but it is very easy to explain and defend that being called slurs sucks.
But as OP said, the shit that sticks is the disrespect. The things that are just subtle enough that to doubters and stupid (white) people, might seem totally not racist. and actually, literally, affect what you want to do.
Jason Robertson is, IRL, a Filipino American NHL player. Wing for the Dallas Stars, absurd amount of points per season (i saw it mentioned he was 6th in season pts leading up to the Olympics, 1st amongst Americans). 6'3, 200 pounds, so big heavy guy. He was not invited to compete on America's Men's Hockey team because he, the 6'3 200lbs guy outscoring 99.9% of other americans, would not fit the 'physical, rough team' the American selection committee wanted.
And this is where it gets insidious right. There is little need to explain why you cant call him a chink on ice (in 2026, its just Rule 23.8. Racial slurs=game misconduct. As in, no sin bin you are out of the ice.). But the former- now you need to talk at length about your stats, your abilities. Prove your resume. And it happens, again and again. And no one says its because youre Asian. But when you are always doubted bcus youre overly intellectual, less physical and your white teammates with the same stats and style and weight isnt being asked this- you can tell. But no one will say its because youre Japanese or Filipino and therefore, surely its not a hate crime. What are you talking about? (and ofc, you surely know a few people who are okay saying well, we know how Asians are as players, as long as the door is closed)
And it turns to what the above says. Being talked down or misunderstood bcus of what an Asian player looks like. Being automatically out of the boys club of the locker room because maybe youre sensitive, maybe you just look weird and unfamiliar (after you spend your entire, intense career only seeing white faces). Insidious and difficult to stop or define without feeling like The Problem, the Crazy Sensitive One.
I like a fix it world. Im too close to sports and this topic to ever truly believe that a racist Montreal room is limited to Montreal. I am happy if Shane canonically lives in a world where the racist shit he deals with is at least more subtle and less frequent- and that can exist, the lives of people of color is not defined and marked only by racism. Slurs are so absurdly light and easy but the real experiences are so tiringly, exhaustingly insidious that I just dont think people are ready when they will write gay hockey solidarity & friendship and never, ever consider the same for Shane, JJ and Boodram.
Thanks for the addition @jirnkirks -- co-signed everything
Was going to put this in the tags but preferred to use my chest here.
For me, at least, I also like a fix-it world. Especially when I'm here for the romance. The reality of trying to depict this stuff is so all encompassing, and so fucking depressing, it feels like a weight pressing down on you. In many ways it's just easier to send them to a world where this isn't a constant buzz in everyone's ear.
Repost, now do your honors.
I am the vampire Madeleine Eparvier. And my immortal companion is Claudia. My coven is Claudia.
in conversation about white people who go to Japan and expect their knowledge of anime to culturally carry them, I was once posed with “it’s like if there was a Japanese guy who was obsessed with spongebob and came over here and thought he could get by just communicating in spongebob quotes.” This is a false equivalence because if such a man existed we would crown him king. We’d love him. Americans would fucking love that. sometimes I get sad that this isn’t a real guy I can invite to a party.
Ok the last one got me laughing actually
> read library book
> it's good
Thank you library
> read library book
> it's bad
Thank you library for saving me from buying it :)
official library post
> read library book
> it's good
> thank library
> want to re-read book
> enjoy re-read
> consider buying the book if you continue to want to re-read
> consider buying
the book if you continue
to want to re-read
Beep boop! I look for accidental haiku posts. Sometimes I mess up.
youd think a band named violent femmes would be made up of violent femmes. but it isnt. its dudes
genuinely no mary... the australian dollar is not doing great right now
i need to type with more of an accent
youse may bloody reckon a band name of violent femmes'd be a buncha sheilas after a couple bundy cokes. but it aint. packa blokes.
The above is a video shared by smrchildsadness on Twitter, showing a person participating in a pride parade exchanging a pride flag with a person standing on his (am using his pronoun based on the TikToks/Tweets of what happened) doorway who had a Portuguese flag. There are sounds of cheers and crying and the two people hug each other as they exchange the flags. The man at the doorway then waved kisses to the crowd within the pride parade.
The Tweet says: "NO YOU DONT UNDERSTAND HE WAS WAVING THE PORTUGUESE FLAG BECAUSE HE DIDN'T HAVE A PRIDE FLAG AND THEY TRADED FLAGS AND HE'S SO EMOTIONAL TO GET HIS OWN PRIDE FLAG I'M EMOTIONALLY RUINED"
For context, apparently they were worried that maybe he's a nationalist because he was waving the Portuguese flag and some nationalists opposing the pride march were waving that flag. But upon interacting with him, it turns out he didn't have have a pride flag and he wanted to wave *a* flag in support of the pride march. So they had an exchange and now he has his own pride flag 😭🥹.
The image above is a Tweet by kunwara_ladkaa that says "I'm crying so much right now (Image taken by Manuel Fernando Araújo/Lusa)". The image shows the same man from the pride parade crying as he hugs his new pride flag.
The above image is a Tweet by dudz_zZzz that says "ainda não parei de pensar nele," which according to Google translate from Portuguese to English is "I still haven't stopped thinking about him." The image is a drawing of the person from the pride parade, crying as he hugs his new pride flag.
Posts were made on July 1, 2024.
One of the most joyful moments of 2024 during a Pride Parade in Portugal.
6/4/2026
guess my favorite rene descartes quote
who give a shit.
25 years ago an unknown Chinese protester stood in front of a tank in defiance of the government. No one knows the identity of the man but he was given the nick name “Tank Man”. This is one of the most iconic photographs of the century.
It’s actually been 27 years now since the incident known as the Tiananmen Square Massacre occurred. The picture above, famously referred to as “The Tank Man” was actually taken on June 5, the day after the massacre. (Which honestly makes him the one of the bravest person, to go back and stand up to a regime after such a terrible event transpired)
So what happened? I’m gonna give the TL;DR version:
April 15, 1989. Hu Yaobang, a former Communist Party Chief dies.
Many people, including workers, laborer, students and some officials come to mourn. You see, those protestors were originally there to mourn, not protest.
Time passed and there were some hunger strikes, and protests, and a call for accountability and reform from the government.
Eventually, things went south, because the communist party doesn’t have time to deal with these sorts of “demands” and grievances.
Keep in mind, the people wanted not the end of the Communist Party, but for the party to stop with the official corruption, rule of law, and the gross monopoly of information and power.
Incidentally, China still suffers from all of these SAME problems to this day…
June 3, 1989. The massacre started at night to disperse the crowd. Many were shot, wounded, and killed.
June 4, 1989. Some of the parents of the protestors who never came home went looking for them. It was still total mayhem.
June 5, 1989. The iconic image of the tank man was taken. To this day, no one knows what became of this person.
Content Warning for video: blood
“Tell the world…”
I cannot stress how important it is that people remember and know about this event. Do you know how China responded? With lies and censorship.
Even now, in 2016, we do not have an official death toll on the Tiananmen Square Massacre, the Chinese government doesn’t even acknowledge the event as a “massacre”. And they weaves these cover stories of “counter revolutionaries trying to overthrow the government”. Therefore, the violence was necessary to ~protect~ the people. (Or some bullshit like that)
The amount of lying and censorship in China is, quite frankly, scary amazing. Tumblr, which somehow managed to fly under their radar, found itself being blocked in that country.
After all, tell a lie often enough and it becomes the truth.
And those who remember the incident in China? …………well, you tell me.
Please at least REMEMBER this tragedy. Untold innocent lives were lost, and a nation has been fed a lie for almost three decades now from their oppressive af regime.
I have never seen this video before.
What the fucking hell.
What the hell.
Tiananmen Square happened when I was seven, and let’s just say children have a really interesting way of interpreting information.
I just remember thinking it was a happy event, because all these people were out on the street, and at first the army were interacting with these people. And it almost looked like a festival because people were singing and talking, and hopeful. And then tv coverage for the events got cut off.
The blocking of the live coverage had all the adults anxious, nobody said anything for ages, I just remember my grandmother saying, “Just be glad your father isn’t in China, now.”
And that stuck with me to this day. Because yeah, if dad had been in China then he would have been in Beijing studying, he would have been on those streets with those other students.
It was the first time I knew that something horrible had happened to all those people I saw on the television. I don’t even remember how I knew that the army must have shot at the civilians, I just knew. Because when you grow up in China, especially in the 80s you knew there were things you don’t say, that you can’t express in a public forum, because that can get you and your family in trouble. You just knew, and it didn’t fucking matter if your were a child or an adult.
To this day I don’t remember how I found out what happened in Tiananmen Square, because the news covered it up, but people found out. My grandparents knew, my uncles and aunts knew. Extended family visited my grandparents, I remember people telling my mother not to mention my father’s name because my father was a Chinese Beijing University graduate, who had gone overseas. Because there were people who died in the protests that my dad knew.
And it was all just so frightening because nobody was telling me directly what was happening, but I just knew that all the people on the streets was probably dead.
Looking back on it, Tiananmen Square instilled in a me a life long distrust of governments, but especially the Chinese government. I’m ethnically Chinese but I never want to return to China, not even for a holiday, and this has been my attitude even before Xi Jinping took power. Because Tiananmen Square was a peaceful protest that ended up with the army using heavy artillery against their own people. How can you trust in a system, in a government like that? Because if my dad had delayed further studies overseas by two years he would have been one of those students, one of those fucking kids on the streets that would have died.
And you know, when the Umbrella movement was happening in Hong Kong I was deeply panicked and just anxious because I kept on thinking all those people, all those kids are going to be killed. And when that didn’t happen it was such a relief.
When I found out years later that Chinese people a few years younger than me didn’t know what happened in Tiananmen Square I was so fucking angry. I can’t even articulate the rage and the sheer tiredness of it all.
Dad and I talked about Tiananmen Square a few times through the years, broadly, politically, and at times with sheer rage on dad’s part. I don’t even know what I wanted to say, but just fuck this fucking regime.
I was In Hong Kong when Tiananamen Square Massacre happened. Hong Kong was still a British colony then and had full freedom of press, and its reporters were there recording live footage while trying to stay as long as possible when tanks rolled in and shots were fired, when students lay in blood and their fellow students piled the injured bodies on those wooden plank carts to get them to the hospitals, while asking the Hong Kongers who were there to support the movement to please remember that night and spread the story of the massacre far and wide, because they already knew they would be silenced, if not imprisoned or murdered.
That night, and in the upcoming months, Hong Kong was in perpetual tears, and in literal shock.
Hong Kongers were mostly Chinese, just south of the border with people traveling back and forth. It also shared a language, and so HKers could follow the whole movement and hear news that western media had little access to without the distorting effect of translations. And they followed very closely, because by then, Hong Kong was already scheduled to be returned to China in 8 years time. How the Chinese government dealt with the movement would be a sign of how it’d treat dissent, how it’d treat people who’re used to the idea and practice of freedom.
What they saw was deadly. Ugly. It broke the hearts of millions of Hong Kongers who trusted that The Chinese Government had left its Great Leap Forward, its Cultural Revolution days behind. Those who could leave, left. Everyday the airport was filled with families about to be torn apart, who decided to trade the life they had in one of the richest, most vibrant and freest city at the time with the unknown, just so their own children would have the freedom to speak their minds, to have a higher education and not to be seen as the enemy of the state because higher education always led to independent thinking, to questioning, to asking for a better government as those university students in Beijing in the spring and summer of 1989 did.
The heartbreak and fear was almost palpable in its intensity. Most HKers were refugees from China or 1st generation of them. Unlike the HK youths now protesting who are more generations removed, they felt much more connected to the people in China. They still saw themselves as Chinese, like those students in Beijing. They mourned. They cried and cried and cried. They wore black or white everyday like it was the death of their closest relatives. TV stations played these Tiananmen Square clips all day. I can still play many of them out of my memory, can still recite what the students and government officials said (for example, they didn’t use tear gas because they only had three), the songs played — I know every word of China’s national anthem for that reason; the students were singing it. They were patriotic. They demanded reforms because they wanted their country to do better. 8964 was and still is, etched in my psyche. It is just one of the long list of atrocities this government has done against its people, but this one, I was close enough to feel it.
China censored the June 4th Massacre quickly and thoroughly — if you believe China has censored queer material, for example, I’d say this — the extent of that censorship is not even close to what a true China censorship does. A true Chinese censorship is you can’t find the info, or a hint of that info anywhere. You can’t talk about it in a roundabout away. You can’t change some elements of time/place/person and pretend it’s fictional. It would literally ban the numbers 8,9,6,4 from search results, even though the searcher may really be just be interested in the numbers themselves. Whoever speaks of it may be sent to the police station for a “discussion”; their family would be sent, if the speaker is outside China; the speaker may be arrested, and may never be seen again.
The western worlds pretended to be enraged about the massacre for a while and soon forgot about it, kept its diplomatic relations with China and did business with its government as usual. UK returned Hong Kong to China as scheduled, on July 1st, 1997. The city has been the only place that insisted on the mourning the victims and had done so insistently, consistently for 30 years, holding a yearly candlelight vigil in Victoria Park until this year, when because of the protests, the Chinese government decided to not even pretend to honour the international treaty they signed that promised HK its freedom until 2047 anymore. They shut the vigil down in the name of the pandemic (there were <10 cases/day then). Still, some people risked being arrested to go to Victoria park and lit their candles.
The Chinese government fears HKers for this reason. They are outside their iron curtain / firewall but have always been close enough geographically, culturally and ethnically to know and more so, to care. And there’s nothing more a government like China’s fear than people who insist on remembering the truth. With the National Security Law in place in Hong Kong now, probably the yearly vigils can’t continue. To understand how insane that law is, by writing this reblog, by saying things that make you dislike the Chinese government, I’m already in violation of its Article 38. It doesn’t matter I’m writing it in a foreign country. It doesn’t matter I’m a foreign citizen. That law includes everyone on Earth.
Yes, that includes you. And you. And you. And you. They can arrest you for trying to overthrow the Chinese government if you pass the borders of Hong Kong.
Please help remember 8964 Tiananmen Square Massacre. That summer day, Beijing citizens asked Hong Kongers to please remember this event for them because they knew they wouldn’t be able to afford to remember it themselves. Now that Hong Kongers can’t afford to remember it anymore, I’m hoping that everyone who reads this to please remember it, for the students who perished only because they wanted their government to be better, for the Tank Man who, on his way home with his groceries, decided to stand in front of a tank all by himself because it was the right thing to do.
I mean, when people literally have to invent the date “May 35th” because “June 4th” is censored, you know that there’s something major that people in power don’t want to have discussed.
This may be of interest, what with personal accounts and images being part of it:
https://www.theguardian.com/world/2026/jun/04/tiananmen-square-massacre-preserving-memory
25 years ago an unknown Chinese protester stood in front of a tank in defiance of the government. No one knows the identity of the man but he was given the nick name “Tank Man”. This is one of the most iconic photographs of the century.
It’s actually been 27 years now since the incident known as the Tiananmen Square Massacre occurred. The picture above, famously referred to as “The Tank Man” was actually taken on June 5, the day after the massacre. (Which honestly makes him the one of the bravest person, to go back and stand up to a regime after such a terrible event transpired)
So what happened? I’m gonna give the TL;DR version:
April 15, 1989. Hu Yaobang, a former Communist Party Chief dies.
Many people, including workers, laborer, students and some officials come to mourn. You see, those protestors were originally there to mourn, not protest.
Time passed and there were some hunger strikes, and protests, and a call for accountability and reform from the government.
Eventually, things went south, because the communist party doesn’t have time to deal with these sorts of “demands” and grievances.
Keep in mind, the people wanted not the end of the Communist Party, but for the party to stop with the official corruption, rule of law, and the gross monopoly of information and power.
Incidentally, China still suffers from all of these SAME problems to this day…
June 3, 1989. The massacre started at night to disperse the crowd. Many were shot, wounded, and killed.
June 4, 1989. Some of the parents of the protestors who never came home went looking for them. It was still total mayhem.
June 5, 1989. The iconic image of the tank man was taken. To this day, no one knows what became of this person.
Content Warning for video: blood
“Tell the world…”
I cannot stress how important it is that people remember and know about this event. Do you know how China responded? With lies and censorship.
Even now, in 2016, we do not have an official death toll on the Tiananmen Square Massacre, the Chinese government doesn’t even acknowledge the event as a “massacre”. And they weaves these cover stories of “counter revolutionaries trying to overthrow the government”. Therefore, the violence was necessary to ~protect~ the people. (Or some bullshit like that)
The amount of lying and censorship in China is, quite frankly, scary amazing. Tumblr, which somehow managed to fly under their radar, found itself being blocked in that country.
After all, tell a lie often enough and it becomes the truth.
And those who remember the incident in China? …………well, you tell me.
Please at least REMEMBER this tragedy. Untold innocent lives were lost, and a nation has been fed a lie for almost three decades now from their oppressive af regime.
I have never seen this video before.
What the fucking hell.
What the hell.
Tiananmen Square happened when I was seven, and let’s just say children have a really interesting way of interpreting information.
I just remember thinking it was a happy event, because all these people were out on the street, and at first the army were interacting with these people. And it almost looked like a festival because people were singing and talking, and hopeful. And then tv coverage for the events got cut off.
The blocking of the live coverage had all the adults anxious, nobody said anything for ages, I just remember my grandmother saying, “Just be glad your father isn’t in China, now.”
And that stuck with me to this day. Because yeah, if dad had been in China then he would have been in Beijing studying, he would have been on those streets with those other students.
It was the first time I knew that something horrible had happened to all those people I saw on the television. I don’t even remember how I knew that the army must have shot at the civilians, I just knew. Because when you grow up in China, especially in the 80s you knew there were things you don’t say, that you can’t express in a public forum, because that can get you and your family in trouble. You just knew, and it didn’t fucking matter if your were a child or an adult.
To this day I don’t remember how I found out what happened in Tiananmen Square, because the news covered it up, but people found out. My grandparents knew, my uncles and aunts knew. Extended family visited my grandparents, I remember people telling my mother not to mention my father’s name because my father was a Chinese Beijing University graduate, who had gone overseas. Because there were people who died in the protests that my dad knew.
And it was all just so frightening because nobody was telling me directly what was happening, but I just knew that all the people on the streets was probably dead.
Looking back on it, Tiananmen Square instilled in a me a life long distrust of governments, but especially the Chinese government. I’m ethnically Chinese but I never want to return to China, not even for a holiday, and this has been my attitude even before Xi Jinping took power. Because Tiananmen Square was a peaceful protest that ended up with the army using heavy artillery against their own people. How can you trust in a system, in a government like that? Because if my dad had delayed further studies overseas by two years he would have been one of those students, one of those fucking kids on the streets that would have died.
And you know, when the Umbrella movement was happening in Hong Kong I was deeply panicked and just anxious because I kept on thinking all those people, all those kids are going to be killed. And when that didn’t happen it was such a relief.
When I found out years later that Chinese people a few years younger than me didn’t know what happened in Tiananmen Square I was so fucking angry. I can’t even articulate the rage and the sheer tiredness of it all.
Dad and I talked about Tiananmen Square a few times through the years, broadly, politically, and at times with sheer rage on dad’s part. I don’t even know what I wanted to say, but just fuck this fucking regime.
I was In Hong Kong when Tiananamen Square Massacre happened. Hong Kong was still a British colony then and had full freedom of press, and its reporters were there recording live footage while trying to stay as long as possible when tanks rolled in and shots were fired, when students lay in blood and their fellow students piled the injured bodies on those wooden plank carts to get them to the hospitals, while asking the Hong Kongers who were there to support the movement to please remember that night and spread the story of the massacre far and wide, because they already knew they would be silenced, if not imprisoned or murdered.
That night, and in the upcoming months, Hong Kong was in perpetual tears, and in literal shock.
Hong Kongers were mostly Chinese, just south of the border with people traveling back and forth. It also shared a language, and so HKers could follow the whole movement and hear news that western media had little access to without the distorting effect of translations. And they followed very closely, because by then, Hong Kong was already scheduled to be returned to China in 8 years time. How the Chinese government dealt with the movement would be a sign of how it’d treat dissent, how it’d treat people who’re used to the idea and practice of freedom.
What they saw was deadly. Ugly. It broke the hearts of millions of Hong Kongers who trusted that The Chinese Government had left its Great Leap Forward, its Cultural Revolution days behind. Those who could leave, left. Everyday the airport was filled with families about to be torn apart, who decided to trade the life they had in one of the richest, most vibrant and freest city at the time with the unknown, just so their own children would have the freedom to speak their minds, to have a higher education and not to be seen as the enemy of the state because higher education always led to independent thinking, to questioning, to asking for a better government as those university students in Beijing in the spring and summer of 1989 did.
The heartbreak and fear was almost palpable in its intensity. Most HKers were refugees from China or 1st generation of them. Unlike the HK youths now protesting who are more generations removed, they felt much more connected to the people in China. They still saw themselves as Chinese, like those students in Beijing. They mourned. They cried and cried and cried. They wore black or white everyday like it was the death of their closest relatives. TV stations played these Tiananmen Square clips all day. I can still play many of them out of my memory, can still recite what the students and government officials said (for example, they didn’t use tear gas because they only had three), the songs played — I know every word of China’s national anthem for that reason; the students were singing it. They were patriotic. They demanded reforms because they wanted their country to do better. 8964 was and still is, etched in my psyche. It is just one of the long list of atrocities this government has done against its people, but this one, I was close enough to feel it.
China censored the June 4th Massacre quickly and thoroughly — if you believe China has censored queer material, for example, I’d say this — the extent of that censorship is not even close to what a true China censorship does. A true Chinese censorship is you can’t find the info, or a hint of that info anywhere. You can’t talk about it in a roundabout away. You can’t change some elements of time/place/person and pretend it’s fictional. It would literally ban the numbers 8,9,6,4 from search results, even though the searcher may really be just be interested in the numbers themselves. Whoever speaks of it may be sent to the police station for a “discussion”; their family would be sent, if the speaker is outside China; the speaker may be arrested, and may never be seen again.
The western worlds pretended to be enraged about the massacre for a while and soon forgot about it, kept its diplomatic relations with China and did business with its government as usual. UK returned Hong Kong to China as scheduled, on July 1st, 1997. The city has been the only place that insisted on the mourning the victims and had done so insistently, consistently for 30 years, holding a yearly candlelight vigil in Victoria Park until this year, when because of the protests, the Chinese government decided to not even pretend to honour the international treaty they signed that promised HK its freedom until 2047 anymore. They shut the vigil down in the name of the pandemic (there were <10 cases/day then). Still, some people risked being arrested to go to Victoria park and lit their candles.
The Chinese government fears HKers for this reason. They are outside their iron curtain / firewall but have always been close enough geographically, culturally and ethnically to know and more so, to care. And there’s nothing more a government like China’s fear than people who insist on remembering the truth. With the National Security Law in place in Hong Kong now, probably the yearly vigils can’t continue. To understand how insane that law is, by writing this reblog, by saying things that make you dislike the Chinese government, I’m already in violation of its Article 38. It doesn’t matter I’m writing it in a foreign country. It doesn’t matter I’m a foreign citizen. That law includes everyone on Earth.
Yes, that includes you. And you. And you. And you. They can arrest you for trying to overthrow the Chinese government if you pass the borders of Hong Kong.
Please help remember 8964 Tiananmen Square Massacre. That summer day, Beijing citizens asked Hong Kongers to please remember this event for them because they knew they wouldn’t be able to afford to remember it themselves. Now that Hong Kongers can’t afford to remember it anymore, I’m hoping that everyone who reads this to please remember it, for the students who perished only because they wanted their government to be better, for the Tank Man who, on his way home with his groceries, decided to stand in front of a tank all by himself because it was the right thing to do.
I mean, when people literally have to invent the date “May 35th” because “June 4th” is censored, you know that there’s something major that people in power don’t want to have discussed.
This may be of interest, what with personal accounts and images being part of it:
https://www.theguardian.com/world/2026/jun/04/tiananmen-square-massacre-preserving-memory
A master to his action-hero trainee says, "Your movements are sloppy. You lack awareness of your body when you fight. Your hands move and yet you do not hold them in your mind's eye. Come. We will remedy this."
And then the master paints his trainee's fingernails and orders the trainee to complete a series of complicated tasks without smudging the nail polish.
Trainee grumbles that this is stupid when the first set of tasks is just cleaning the dojo. Within two minutes he reaches for the dustpan and knocks the edge of his pinky nail against it in a way he's never noticed before. He's staring at the baby blue smudge and suddenly he understands things differently.
There's a montage of days passing as he fetches water, chops wood, hoes crops, washes clothes. His nails are a different color during each cut. He's sprinting up the mountain with a fresh wet pedicure and the master is nodding in approval. The master's nails are flawless tech art.
He's reached his final assessment and it's a sparing match against his master. The air smells of acetone. His and the master's nails are all freshly painted. He must land a blow on the master with his mani and pedi fully intact.
Suns and moons pass. Streak in the ring finger. Smudge on the pinky. A full-handed block at the cost of three nails of paint. A hit on his master, and he hoots in delight until the master points out the unguarded toe whose polish is now streaked across the master's robe.
Days pass in frustration and exhaustion. By day 40, he has every digit of his acutely in his mind's eye. He senses the master's attack, ducks, dodges, all fingers all toes all himself, aware, and he strikes with his wooden sword.
It connects with the master. The master pauses. The trainee raises his left hand into view--5 digits of flawless sunflower yellow. His left foot. His right foot. And finally his right hand, raised in triumph.
The master smiles. "You have passed. I have just one more technique to teach you."
The technique is how to draw little flowers into the nail art. So really this one is optional.
These posts contain 146 horses (49.1% of the post)
🍎 @phantomrose96
A master to his action-hero trainee says, "Your movements are sloppy. You lack awareness of your body when you fight. Your hands move and yet you do not hold them in your mind's eye. Come. We will remedy this."
And then the master paints his trainee's fingernails and orders the trainee to complete a series of complicated tasks without smudging the nail polish.
🍎 @phantomrose96
Trainee grumbles that this is stupid when the first set of tasks is just cleaning the dojo. Within two minutes he reaches for the dustpan and knocks the edge of his pinky nail against it in a way he's never noticed before. He's staring at the baby blue smudge and suddenly he understands things differently.
🍎 @phantomrose96
There's a montage of days passing as he fetches water, chops wood, hoes crops, washes clothes. His nails are a different color during each cut. He's sprinting up the mountain with a fresh wet pedicure and the master is nodding in approval. The master's nails are flawless tech art.
🍎 @phantomrose96
He's reached his final assessment and it's a sparing match against his master. The air smells of acetone. His and the master's nails are all freshly painted. He must land a blow on the master with his mani and pedi fully intact.
Suns and moons pass. Streak in the ring finger. Smudge on the pinky. A full-handed block at the cost of three nails of paint. A hit on his master, and he hoots in delight until the master points out the unguarded toe whose polish is now streaked across the master's robe.
Days pass in frustration and exhaustion. By day 40, he has every digit of his acutely in his mind's eye. He senses the master's attack, ducks, dodges, all fingers all toes all himself, aware, and he strikes with his wooden sword.
It connects with the master. The master pauses. The trainee raises his left hand into view--5 digits of flawless sunflower yellow. His left foot. His right foot. And finally his right hand, raised in triumph.
The master smiles. "You have passed. I have just one more technique to teach you."
The technique is how to draw little flowers into the nail art. So really this one is optional.
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oh my god........................ the hornses.......... 🐴
I love how Rocky is incredibly well aware that saying "where my bedroom" doesn't make any sense (he's got a whole plan for making a sleeping area already and knows the Hail Mary doesn't have bedrooms) and therefore literally the only purpose of saying that was to mess with Grace. He's such a little shit I love him so much
"where my bedroom" doesnt even make sense for a species that watches each other sleep like they wouldnt even have individual bedrooms he is purely being a little shit on purpose lol
SELKIE Seaside Cure Collection pls help me get out of debt donating to: ko-fi.com/fashionrunways or dinahlance-shop.fourthwall.com
This is Progress
unfortunately i dont think its queerbaiting if the creator is just so terminally heterosexual that they never remotely considered the same gender relationship their show is centered around could be read as romantic. it is deeply painful however.
Maybe accidental queer baiting? The way someone may not mean to say something rude, but it may come off rude, so it's rude. Frustrating either way.
Not being a dick, just a friendly clarification.
By definition you can't accidentally queerbait. Queerbaiting is specifically using a same sex pair from the show to market the show to queer audiences with no intention of ever following through on a romantic relationship.
There is officially licensed Destiel merch signed off on by Kripke. Teen Wolf had a commercial with the actors for Derek and Stiles draped over each other talking about being "on a ship." Both shows actively used scenes between them as marketing while actively mocking fans for wanting them together. Sherlock has multiple characters refer to Johnlock as a couple, including characters we're supposed to believe are never wrong about human behavior and pushed those scenes in marketing. Then they acted insulted when fans saw them as a couple.
That's queerbaiting.
Done on accident it would just be queer subtext. Done because they had no other choice due to censorship is queer coding.
The specific meaning of the word is really starting to get lost and it's a pretty important one to keep accurate. It describes a very specific phenomenon that was done repeatedly and maliciously for decades and is meant to examine that specifically.
Doing it on accident sucks, but it isn't a tactic of capitalism intentionally intended to suppress queer representation while making money from queer fans.
Sewing "a little bit" is one of the most useful skills you can possibly have proportional to how cheap and easy it is to learn.
So many of the items in our daily lives are sew-able. A simple needle and thread changes the way you think. When an item breaks, you no longer think, "I guess I must buy a new one..." Instead, you think, "I guess I must fix it..."
How many of these everyday items rest for eternity in a landfill, because of a simple break that a needle and thread could have fixed? How many excess items were manufactured to make up for the forgetting of the humble needle and thread...?
I love you, needle and thread...
THISSSSSSSSS man the day my nonna's sewing kit was handed to me something changed in me