trying on a metaphor
Kiana Khansmith
祝日 / Permanent Vacation
#extradirty
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Jules of Nature
⁂
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
ellievsbear
almost home
dirt enthusiast
$LAYYYTER
Three Goblin Art
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
Discoholic 🪩
Misplaced Lens Cap
Mike Driver
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ojovivo
KIROKAZE
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@subpolitica
Minoritized languages moodboard: Galician
Galician (galego) is a Romance language spoken in Galicia (nowadays in the state of Spain). It is very close to Portuguese, and it is sometimes considered a dialect of it, but although they were a unit in the Middle Ages, it has diverged since.
For anon
Seven Reasons Why Jessica Mitford Is My Hero - And Why She Should Be Yours, Too
1. Jessica came from an aristocratic background, where she lived with her eccentric family on a series of sprawling country estates, but she soon grew tired of this privilege and devoted all her energy to becoming a communist. When she made her debut at Buckingham Palace, she played the part of the wealthy debutante, donning the requisite white satin and ostrich feathers, but she was quickly busted for stealing chocolate bonbons from the palace buffet, which she stuffed in her bouquet.
2.When she was a teenager, she came up with an elaborate plan to assassinate Hitler - and, unlike most such plans, she was actually in a position to realize her dream, as her sister Unity was one of Hitler’s greatest friends and had intimate access to the Fuhrer. As Jessica later told it, her scheme was brilliant and fail-proof She would fake a conversion to fascism, get Unity to introduce her to Hitler, and when they were finally face to face, she would pull a handgun from her purse and shoot him. She was too afraid to ever put her plan into action, but it gave her great satisfaction to learn that, when Unity informed Hitler of Jessica’s communist leanings, he sank his head in his hands and sighed, bewailing the “poor child.”
3.When she was nineteen years old, she ran away to the Spanish Civil War with Esmond Romilly, her second cousin and the bane of her family’s existence. Her parents were distraught and spent the agonizing weeks that followed in a state of utter despair, not knowing if she was alive or dead or possibly captured by white slavers. When they finally received a suitably dramatic letter from Jessica revealing her whereabouts (“Darling Muv: By the time you get this I shall be married to Esmond Romilly”), the much-feared prospect of their daughter having been captured by the white slave trade seemed preferable to the truth. Upon hearing the news, her father collapsed in a chair, muttering, “Worse than I thought - married to Romilly!”
4. The young couple lived a bohemian lifestyle, moving from the slums of London to a small apartment in New York’s Greenwich Village. Jessica worked a series of odd jobs, including a stint as a salesgirl in a ritzy dress shop on Madison Avenue where Claudette Colbert and Rosalind Russell were regular customers. But her attempt to fully renounce her privileged upbringing wasn’t entirely successful, and she was never able to lose her upper class accent, “a curiously cadenced sing-song which would have been grotesquely affected if it had not been even more grotesquely natural.” She once stopped a burly working man on the street in Birmingham with a request that was typical of what Esmond contemptuously referred to as her upperclassishness: “Could you be absolutely sweet and tell us where we could get some delicious tea?”
5. The war soon caught up with the Romillys, and Esmond was tragically killed when his plane went down over Germany. When his uncle, one Sir Winston Churchill, broke the news to a devastated Jessica, he handed her an envelope stuffed with cash, hoping it would prove of use to her in her time of need. Jessica, however, was filled with deep bitterness over her husband’s death and resented Churchill’s offer of what she deemed “blood money.” In the end, she took the cash and donated it to the Communist Party.
6. She moved to Washington, where she found government work and fell in love with Robert Treuhaft, the man who would eventually become her husband of more than fifty years: “That he was handsome and brilliant and Jewish and from the Bronx, and well to the left, and that her father could be counted on to disapprove, all made the match the more dear.” They hitchhiked to their own wedding, where the female justice of the peace was stunned by their blase attitude to marriage, and Jessica’s scandalous explanation for the wedding did little to ease the poor woman’s mind: “We didn’t believe in marriage, but we had to. It was against government regulations to have two government employees living together without being married.”
7. Jessica never lost her hatred for fascism, and she refused to make excuses for her family’s Nazi sympathies. She severed all ties with her sister Diana, who was an unrepentant fascist, and she never weakened in her resolve to piss Diana off. When Diana attempted to befriend Jessica’s half-Jewish son, Jessica balked at the very idea: “I thought better not, as I didn’t want Benj turned into a lampshade.” She met Diana only once more, when the sisters were thrown together in Paris to care for their dying sister Nancy. Jessica recalled a particularly tense afternoon she spent with her sister when the two women tended to Nancy’s garden: “I forebore to say I was giving the irises Lebensraum, although it came into my mind.”
Jessica Williams gave a speech the protesters at the Women’s March in Park City would never forget
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TRACY CHAPMAN “Why?”
Why do the babies starve
When there’s enough food to feed the world
Why when there’re so many of us
Are there people still alone
Why are the missiles called peace keepers
When they’re aimed to kill
Why is a woman still not safe
When she’s in her home
Love is hate
War is peace
No is yes
And we’re all free
But somebody’s gonna have to answer
The time is coming soon
Admidst all these questions and contradictions
There’re some who seek the truth
But somebody’s gonna have to answer
The time is coming soon
When the blind remove their blinders
And the speechless speak the truth
A veces la banda sonora adecuada convierte la vida en inspiración.
Un estudio realizado y publicado por Runner’s World analiza el acoso machista al que se somete a la mujer corredora, obteniendo resultados tan esperables como terroríficos. El 43% de las mujeres corredoras han sufrido algún tipo de acoso, frente al 4% de los hombres. El porcentaje es todavía mayor para las menores de 30 años. El 94% de los acosadores eran hombres. El 60% de las mujeres no salen a correr una vez ha caído la noche por miedo a un ataque. Casi todas reconocen ponerse más ropa de la adecuada cuando salen a hacer deporte por miedo a una agresión.
Como mujer que corre que solía salir a correr, estos datos no me sorprenden: en cada entrenamiento me topé con hombres que se sintieron con derecho a expresar sus opiniones sobre mi cuerpo. Y eso que siempre corro por el centro de Madrid, de día, en las horas con menos peatones y solo en un radio de 5 km desde mi domicilio.
Estos hombres quieren (según su descripción) “piropearte”, y se hacen los ofendidos cuando no aceptas el cumplido pero ¿cómo aceptarlo? ¿Cómo ignorar las barbaridades que dicen? No es un piropo, no es un halago: es un ataque.
¿Por qué lo sé? Porque yo no les importo. Porque no son capaces de dirigirse a mí desde el respeto, de responderme cuando me dirijo a ellos. Porque me insultan si rechazo su comentario. Porque, sin importar lo que me hayan gritado (porque habitualmente no lo dicen: lo gritan), si les contesto me llaman puta, me dicen que me creo más guapa de lo que soy, que tengo suerte de que siquiera se hayan fijado en mí. Y yo lo siento como una maldición.
A estos hombres no les importa ni cómo vaya vestida, ni qué piense, ni quién sea yo. Les da igual que vaya escuchando música y finja no escucharles, que les responda con un insulto o que me gire para enfrentarme a ellos. Van a hacerlo igualmente por el mero hecho de que pueden.
En una ocasión volví enfadada de uno de mis entrenamientos, porque había vuelto a pasar. Un día más. Compartí la experiencia con mi novio, y mencioné que estaba harta de que siempre sucediese lo mismo. Me miró sorprendido, y puede que hasta algo confuso. “Tania - me dijo -, te creo porque me lo estás contando tú. Pero jamás me hubiese imaginado que algo así pudiese suceder a diario”.
Aliado feminista donde los haya, mi novio no comprendió qué es ser mujer y salir a la calle hasta que yo se lo conté. Por eso me resulta tan imprescindible darle relevancia a este estudio: porque creo que los hombres buenos lo desconocen. No lo han vivido, y no están presentes cuando lo vivimos nosotras. Y por eso, deberíamos contárselo.
Consulta el estudio completo: Running while female
Lee la editorial: El problema no es que las mujeres corran solas
“El 43% de las mujeres corredoras han sufrido algún tipo de acoso, frente al 4% de los hombres. El porcentaje es todavía mayor para las menores de 30 años. El 94% de los acosadores eran hombres. El 60% de las mujeres no salen a correr una vez ha caído la noche por miedo a un ataque. Casi todas reconocen ponerse más ropa de la adecuada cuando salen a hacer deporte por miedo a una agresión.”
The temperature at which permission slips receive sick burns.
Quizás no era la intención del colegio, pero cuando este padre recibió una nota del profesor de su hijo para que le autorizase a leer Fahrenheit 451, no se le escapó la ironía.
En sus manos estaba censurar una lectura a su hijo, actuando en consonancia con la escuela y caminando hacia la distopía planteada en por Ray Bradbury. Para quien no la conozca, en Fahrenheit 451 la jornada laboral de los bomberos consiste en quemar todo aquel libro que aparezca, en pos de la supuesta paz social que surge entre una población desinformada e incapaz de pensar por sí misma.
En vez de hacerlo, este padre aprovechó la ocasión para hacerle llegar una nota al profesor, tan brillante que dan ganas de aplaudirle:
“Qué maravillosa forma de presentar a los estudiantes el tema central de Fahrenheit 451, de que los libros son tan peligrosos que las instituciones de la sociedad (colegios y padres) puedan querer unirse en contra de los niños para evitar que lean uno”
“Ya es fácil leer el libro y decir “Esto es una locura. Nunca podría suceder” pero darle a los estudiantes un paso previo que parece totalmente razonable es una forma inmersiva de enseñarles lo sutil que puede ser la censura”
Coincide que además Fahrenheit 451 es el libro que estoy leyendo esta semana, por lo que la respuesta de este padre me resultado especialmente adecuada. En palabras de Ray Bradbury:
“Si no quieres que un hombre se sienta políticamente desgraciado, no le enseñes dos aspectos de una misma cuestión, para preocuparle; ensélae sólo uno o, mejor aún, no le des ninguno.”
Si es que leer es muy peligroso. Aunque más peligroso es pensar.
Más información: Goodreads
Cómpralo: Fahrenheit 451 en Casa del Libro
La Coordinadora 25-S convoca una manifestación el día de la investidura junto al Congreso.
Tras la decisión del PSOE de abstenerse para permitir gobernar a Mariano Rajoy, el colectivo llama a la protesta bajo el lema “ante el golpe de la mafia, democracia”…
In Soviet Union women participating in WWII were erased from history, remaining as the occasional anecdote of a female sniper or simply as medical staff or, at best, radio specialists. The word “front-line girl” (frontovichka) became a terrible insult, synonimous to “whore”. Hundreds thousand of girls who went to war to protect their homeland with their very lives, who came back injured or disabled, with medals for valor, had to hide it to protect themselves from public scorn. http://wrhstol.com/2ezDsC4
For more information, War's Unwomanly Face by Svetlana Alexievich
Mem-o-map of Europe, 1946.
Ni CETA ni TTIP
CIEs NO
É Menina! It’s a Girl
É menina! “As palavras mais mortais do mundo”. Na China e na Índia ocorre um verdadeiro genocídio contra as meninas, ou melhor, um “generocídio”. A grande maioria é morta logo ao nascer, outras são abortadas ou abandonadas e a mortalidade infantil para meninas abaixo de 5 anos é extremamente alta. Nestes países, 20 a 30% das meninas são mortas, mais do que a população inteira dos recém-nascidos nas Américas. As que sobrevivem são expostas a um mundo preconceituoso e violento dentro das suas famílias e das suas sociedades. (docverdade) As Nações Unidas estimam que cerca de 200 milhões de meninas desapareceram no mundo de hoje por causa deste chamado “generocídio”. As meninas que sobrevivem à infância são frequentemente sujeitas a negligência, e muitas crescem para enfrentar violência extrema e até mesmo a morte às mãos de maridos ou de outros familiares. A guerra contra as meninas está enraizada numa tradição secular e é sustentada por dinâmicas culturais profundamente arraigadas que, em combinação com as políticas governamentais, aceleram a sua eliminação. Filmado na Índia e na China, “É menina” revela o problema e procura as razões para e questiona por que tão pouco está a ser feito para salvar as meninas e mulheres..
Contrary to popular belief, anarchist Emma Goldman was not responsible for the phrase, “if I can’t dance, it’s not my revolution.” What she actually said was, “we can dance if we want to, we can leave your friends behind, ‘cause your friends don’t dance and if they don’t dance, well they’re no friends of mine.”
The mask you live in, el documental que cuenta por qué lo peor que le puede pasar a un hombre es que le comparen con una mujer
Disfrutando de lo lindo con She’s Beautiful When She’s Angry.
Somos responsables del esfuerzo, no de los resultados.
Mariano Rajoy saltando en el balcón. La cara tensa de Errejón. La sonrisa de Cospedal.
El esfuerzo: todo el camino desde el 15M, desde la Transición, desde la República, hasta aquí. Los voluntarios, la voluntad. Las charlas, reflexiones, lecturas, ponencias. Lo asumido, lo peleado, lo perdido.
El rostro asustado de Garzón. El beso con Elvira. El "Sí se puede" coreado en Génova. El silencio detrás del Reina Sofía.
Nos quedamos solos cuando se disolvió la manifestación. Es difícil saber a dónde ir desde aquí. No somos responsables del miedo, pero vamos a sentirlo. En los huesos, en el estómago, en la cabeza.
Los resultados se escapan de nuestro control. No lo vimos venir. No somos responsables. Lo intentamos. No fue suficiente. Volveremos a intentarlo.
César con gafas de sol. Laura desencajada. Los mensajes de Miguel, de Lurdes, de Alicia.
La última copa de vino, la que sabes que te hará daño. Irse a cama sin saber si habrá un mañana. Un país. Un plan.
Perder y seguir luchando. Perder y movilizar. Perder y asumir responsabilidades.
Buscar esperanza en los próximos cuatro años. En la oposición. En la negación.
Mariano Rajoy saltando en el balcón.
El esfuerzo en vano.
La responsabilidad.
España.
