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Is the People's Republic of China fascist in your opinion? Feel free to discuss in comments.
Yes, they are fascist.
Kinda, they have some fascistic policies.
No, they're not fascist.
Maybe/ I'm unsure/ I want to see results.
arte by me.
To the brainless, chronically online puritans of Tumblr and AO3: Pull the sticks out of your asses or get the fuck off the internet. 🖕🔥
Dear residents of the ether, fragile citizens of Tumblr, and endless wanderers of AO3: I am honestly, completely, thoroughly fucking done.
I am so incredibly sick of this pathetic, coddled generation. Instead of actually doing a single productive thing to fix the real world, you barricade yourselves inside your little digital fortresses of privilege and weaponized "special needs," expecting the entire universe to bend over backwards, censor itself, and cater to your specific, fragile triggers.
Well, wake the fuck up. The world was never tailored to your needs, and it never will be.
And before you start sharpening your pathetic little pitchforks and coming for my throat: I am autistic and I have OCD. Clinically. Fucking. Diagnosed. So yeah, by your miserable standards, I’m a "special snowflake" too. The difference? I don't use my brain chemistry as a shield to act like a fascist dictator over fictional characters.
Do you want to know why we are here today? Because if you touch me, I don't care. But touch someone I love, and I will fucking slash your throat.
My best friend @gem-wildee recently wrote a fanfic based on the show The Pitt. I’ll be honest, she actually made me want to watch it—mostly because I’ve had a massive, un-killable crush on Noah Wyle since his ER days. But she went a step further and crossed The Pitt over with Stranger Things.
And do you know what happened? The absolute scum of the internet crawled out of the woodwork.
Anons—because of course it’s always anonymous, spineless, cowardly little shits who probably still need their mothers to wipe their noses—started flooding her inbox with literal death threats. Telling her she should die of cancer. Boycotting her story. Harassing her.
And why? Not because it was badly written, mind you. But because her fictional story didn’t bow down to their precious, holy headcanons.
Because you've labeled her "racist" just for including Billy Hargrove in the story. Because you've labeled her "homophobic" simply because Eddie isn't riding off into the sunset with Steve. Are you people fucking insane?! It is FICTION. If you hate Billy so much, I hope to God you meet someone exactly like Billy in your real life, so you finally learn the difference between a flawed, complex fictional antagonist and actual, real-world malice. Let's see how your online activism holds up then.
"But Eddie isn’t with Steve?!" "But Billy is a monster?!" "But... but... but..."
You know what? You want a story where everyone holds hands and bakes rainbow cupcakes? Write it your-fucking-selves. 😑
What happened to Don't Like, Don't Read? Did that golden rule die along with your collective ability to function in society? If a fic offends your hyper-sensitive, sanitized worldview, close the fucking tab. It costs exactly zero to scroll past. But no, you’d rather play the internet martyr and hurl death threats because you lack the basic emotional maturity to handle pixels on a screen.
The tags were right there. You walked past the warning signs, opened the door, and now you’re crying because you don't like what's inside? If you ignore the tags just to have an excuse to get offended, you are the architect of your own misery. Don't blame the author for your own illiteracy.
@gem-wildee is a lady, so she chooses to ignore this absolute, toxic garbage. But I am not a lady. I don't give a single, solitary shit. I usually reserve my sarcasm for the absolute moron who called me a pedophile just because I wrote an age-gap fic, but today? Today I am past sarcasm. This is pure, unadulterated, scorching rage. Seth Cohen, step the fuck aside. It’s time to bring out Xena and start swinging. 😑
I am so sick and tired of the fact that you people have completely lost the ability to use a single shred of critical thinking. You don't look past the words, you don't look past the tags—honestly, I’m convinced most of you illiterate prudes don’t even read the fucking stories. You just scan for keywords to trigger your next dopamine hit of righteous outrage.
You actually convinced yourselves that harassing fanfic authors is "activism." You think you're fighting racism and homophobia by bullying a writer on AO3? You are not social justice warriors; you are just bored, miserable bullies hiding behind a keyboard, looking for a socially acceptable target to unleash your real-world malice upon. You don't care about real-world issues—you just care about the high you get from feeling morally superior.
I am utterly exhausted by this performative, fake-woke puritanism. The moment you encounter a theme, a character, or a ship that offends your delicate, sanitized sensibilities, you start screaming, "Censorship! Fascism! Won't somebody please think of the children?!"
There are no children to think about here, you absolute clowns! This is an archive for fanfiction, not a playground. There are only bigoted, lazy, hypocritical bullies for whom rubbing two brain cells together is just too hard, too complicated. You'd rather whip out a self-diagnosed TikTok certification of ADHD, Autism, or whatever other neurological label you can weaponize as an excuse to avoid doing any actual thinking, reading, or growing up.
So, if you feel targeted by this? If your ass is burning bright red right now because these words hit too close to home? Come at me. Report me. Block me. Send your little anon hate. I’m right here, sitting in 30-degree weather, eating spicy chips, and having a great fucking laugh at your expense. I am waiting.
@gem-wildee, this might not be a traditional fanfic, but happy birthday anyway. You are a phenomenal writer, and these losers could never touch your talent. ❤️
La Gestapo di Trump.
Non è sicurezza.
È repressione.
Non è ordine pubblico. È violenza di Stato.
Non è democrazia.
È autoritarismo.
Non è tante cose ma sicuramente è nazismo e fascismo!!
🩶
Era e sarà sempre un protagonista.
Siamo Davvero Circondati? Il Fascismo Nascosto Dietro il Silenzio
Questo Paese è pieno zeppo di fascisti, ne sono milioni e ne sono una prova i commenti arrabbiati sotto i miei post contro il Fascismo. Se non esistesse il fascismo non ci sarebbero così tanti che lo difendono e si sentono toccati dai miei post. Il mio è un esperimento sociale ma, purtroppo, con mio rammarico ho la prova che siamo letteralmente circondati da schifosi fascisti.
Forse sono addirittura la maggioranza vigliacca e silenziosa del Paese che, però, quando gli tocchi la sacralità del Fascio emerge per difendere i suoi ideali.
La cosa mi disgusta veramente e la trovo agghiacciante, un fatto di una gravità inaudita.
👉 Seguimi. Iscriviti al mio canale YouTube: https://youtube.com/@AetheriumEchoes 🎥
Hayek riteneva che la classica distinzione destra–sinistra fosse troppo povera per descrivere davvero i sistemi politici: era una categoria storica, non teorica.
Per lui la linea decisiva era invece quella tra libertà individuale e coercizione statale. Da questa idea nasce il modello triangolare: in alto c’è chi massimizza la libertà (libertari e liberali classici), in basso chi promuove un forte controllo centrale.
Hayek sosteneva che socialismo pianificato, fascismo e comunismo condividessero la stessa logica di gestione autoritaria dall’alto, e per questo nel triangolo finiscono vicini.
Allo stesso tempo criticava i conservatori, che pur essendo “di destra” accettano spesso un intervento statale robusto per mantenere l’ordine tradizionale, scivolando così verso il lato autoritario.
In questo schema, il liberalismo classico — la sua posizione — si colloca nella zona alta perché unisce libertà economica e personale.
Il triangolo, insomma, rappresenta l’idea centrale di Hayek: il vero conflitto politico non è tra destra e sinistra, ma tra libertà e controllo.
“I would rather be a pig than a fascist.” — Marco
From Porco Rosso, directed by Hayao Miyazaki
In 1991, as the film was taking shape, war erupted in the former Yugoslavia. Nationalist hatred, once thought buried beneath the rubble of the twentieth century, rose again like smoke from embers never fully extinguished. Miyazaki, who had begun crafting a whimsical tale about a charming, cigar-smoking pig pilot, watched Europe fracture once more along the fault lines of ideology.
He later confessed, with disarming bluntness, that humanity is profoundly foolish. What had started as light entertainment transformed into something heavier: the story of a man who carries upon his shoulders the accumulated grief of history. The joke hardened into a lament; the fairy tale became a mirror.
Marco is no longer merely a pig who flies — he is a conscience in exile.
Between the carnage of the First World War, where Marco witnessed his friends vanish into the indifferent sky, and the ascent of fascism under Benito Mussolini — with its cult of order, its worship of uniformity, its obedience to a single will — something in him broke. Or perhaps something in him refused to break.
To Marco, the true monstrosity is not the animal but the man who surrenders himself to a murderous creed. Better, then, to be a pig — stubborn, solitary, unapologetically coarse — than to be a human enchained to an ideology that devours dignity.
Why a pig?
Because the pig, despised and underestimated, lives outside the pageantry of power. In choosing that form, Marco rejects the theater of uniforms and salutes. His transformation is not a curse but a protest. His snout becomes a shield against complicity. His porcine face is the visible mark of his refusal to belong to a species capable of killing in the name of abstractions.
He does not become less human; he becomes more so.
The regime offers him absolution. The army promises to erase his criminal record if he will only fly for the state — if he will lend his wings to tyranny. Refuse, and he remains an outlaw, hunted by the secret police.
Marco chooses danger over obedience. He chooses the uncertainty of the open sky over the suffocating comfort of dictatorship. To collaborate would be a prison more absolute than any cell.
Freedom, even precarious, is worth more than honor bestowed by a corrupt authority.
On his island, Marco declines medals and salary. He lives as a solitary bounty hunter for one reason alone: to answer to no master. He prefers the fragility of independence to the glitter of state-sanctioned glory. His greatness lies not in victories, nor in spectacle, but in the quiet, unyielding capacity to say no.
True grandeur is not stitched into a uniform; it is forged in refusal.
Marco’s line has become a symbol of resistance because it strips fascism of its grandeur. It reduces it to what it is: a machinery of fear disguised as pride. To declare oneself a pig rather than a fascist is to invert the hierarchy of shame. The disgrace is no longer in the animal — it is in the ideology.
In a world where power seduces with promises of belonging, Marco stands apart. He reminds us that the first act of resistance is interior: the refusal to let hatred colonize one’s soul.
So wherever we may live, under whatever flag, may we have the courage to be “pigs” — to resist the intoxication of obedience, to distrust the drumbeat of uniformity, to guard our conscience more fiercely than our reputation.
If children grew up with the works of Studio Ghibli — with their luminous skies, their fragile pacifism, their fierce tenderness toward life — perhaps we would cultivate imaginations less hospitable to cruelty. These films are not mere entertainment; they are quiet manifestos wrapped in watercolor and wind. They teach that strength need not dominate, that courage need not conquer, that peace is not passivity but vigilance.
To watch them is to remember that humanity can choose otherwise.
And sometimes, in order to remain truly human, one must dare to become a pig.
