this is where Iâm going to start reblogging stuff so that I never have to remake my blog again. watch out for weirdness, and if you disagree with something, ignoring it is free My pronouns are she/her, except when they're not. and because of that one post, my honorific is mg and because there are weirdos who care about this, the entire Carter administration is in my living memory I am, in rough order of importance, a woman, an earthling, a writer, a socialist, multiply disabled, and somewhere down near the bottom is trans and at the very bottom I'm USAmerican
if you want to help me feel less invisible, maybe rb my original posts?
(repeating this since people haven't been; if I post something I wrote, reblogs are desired)
been off the site for a while. queue is almost empty, at which point it will only be scheduled posts. I will occasionally drop posts, but 'm not looking at my feed until we have a different political party in the white house.
I'll try popping in every once in a while, but for my own mental health I am offline as much as I can. Tumblr in particular has been bad for me
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raising money to help with escaping if things reach that point, both for myself and others
Hi. I'm Grace, and I'm raising money to be ready to run if it comes to that. Any amount a⌠T Rogers needs your support for Grace's Escape Fu
removed all my gift lists because this is more important
my pronouns do shift a bit, but it feels like I'm entering a phase where it/its matches me best pronouns are now it/she pronouns are now she/her.
Since this is where I mostly reblog from, yes I'm an adult, I'm almost certainly older than you (and if you're not I would love to be mutuals), I'm probably older than you're comfortable dating. I am old (in years, mentally I vary between a couple of centuries and late teens)
I'm a radical inclusionist; everything has nuance and see all divisions as arbitrary. I don't like any philosophy that pits one group against another, and I will not tolerate it from more privileged demographics; in particular I will name and shame and mock and block fascists.
Dyke, my kinsey number is a five point something. I'm not anti-men, not even cis men, I'm happy to have you as a friend and mutual but being a dyke is important to who I am
I'm ND. I'm crazy. Not on the spectrum, not interested in sharing my Dx here, though I do mention it where it feels pertinent. I struggle with this, and sometimes it's very hard.
I'm trans (saying it to piss off terfs and let people know not to attack me as cis when I talk about trans things) but it's not close to the most important piece of my identity), my pronouns change to fast to be worth updating but also I'm extremely unlikely to know what pronouns you use for me. Regardless of my current pronouns, feminine honorifics (miss, mistress, goddess, etc) are always correct)
and if you need those to be true for you to be my friend, we're not likely to get along.
The tags are ones I use a lot that may not be intuitive. In related news is stuff I would buy if I had the money. Eating strawberries is about living in the present. This too is art is a general art tag. stories from Graceland are things from my life. There are others so I can tag friends; if it's for you you will recognize it
"we shouldn't fight to improve [small thing] because it's just a symptom of [big thing]" okay well big thing is too big to fall on it's own, so I'm gonna start by fighting to improve small thing, and once enough small things have fallen that people have the time and energy and bandwidth to fight then we can fight big thing, because until then all of the small things are weighing every potential fighter down to the point that they can't get out of fucking bed, let alone fight big thing.
And this isn't even getting into the fact that many of the big chances require suitably big chances in our ways of thinking. Part of living under a forceful, capitalist system is that it makes you think and act in capitalist ways, even if you may otherwise hold anticapitalist beliefs.
They're ingrained in you, the same way they're ingrained in all of us, and that makes fighting the big thing really fucking difficult because you're liable to self-sabotage or get into infighting without realizing. Or even fail to institute meaningful change after taking down the big thing.
You have to start small. Both for simple matters of time and energy, and also because you need the small things to help reshape the way we see the world. To help educate others, to help spread information, to help foster and grow resources amongst our communities. To then help enact small but meaningful systemic change to build the ladder for the really big changes.
i know weâre both just messing around pretending to be whole but look at me. if the train was coming would you move. if the ground was falling from under your feet would you even notice or would it just be another tuesday for you. if somebody stabbed you could it hurt worse than you already do. what iâm saying is that i love you but i think we both drive over the speed limit when itâs raining. what iâm saying is that i want to hold your hand and i understand about how you sometimes have to sit down in the shower. what iâm saying is that iâm here for you and if the train comes please move.
i wrote this 7 years ago, somehow. every day someone else finds it and whispers to me - oh, i understand this. something always turns in the wash of my stomach: i am so, so glad you feel seen. i wish you had no idea what this post was about.
i wrote this while working in a program for new writers. on wednesdays, two of the teachers would be contractually obligated to read our writing aloud to the group of 300+ teens. i had never read my work in public before. i had something like 6k poems and was panicking about it. none of them are good enough. sometimes the train is howling. it is hard, actually, sometimes, even as an adult.
and then i thought - what is one thing i wish i could tell all of them. each of these 300 kids. what did i need to hear, at 16?
i wanted to tell them about the day you wake up, and the sun feels warm finally. i wanted to tell them about carving a life out of soapstone, your hands turning bloody. i wanted to tell them that sometimes yes - it actually does feel easy. i wanted to tell them about weddings and cookie dough and long road trips. about albums of new music and old friends laughing and the sound of snow falling.
you will learn the pattern of the train. you will learn to close your eyes when you hear the engine rumbling. you will learn to let yourself have the grey days in their lily-soft numbness. sometimes it will feel like life is wet paint, and god has smeared your canvas across a sewer grate. sometimes it will be so boring it isnât even pronounceable - the tenacious, soundless blankness. survival isnât just ugly nights and wild mornings. it is also the steady, unimportant moments. it is just driving with your seatbelt on. it is calling a friend on the way home. it is burying your face into the fur of your dog.
when i had finished reading this poem aloud, the auditorium was silent for a solid minute. someone stood up to take a picture of where it had been projected onto a screen, and then three more people followed the action, and then - like a bad internet story, people remembered they were supposed to be clapping. kids came up to me after it - thank you for writing that. i think i hear a train coming.
i would write this differently now, i think, but it has been 7 years. i still live by the tracks. i also havenât picked up a blade in over 10 years. the scars are still there, but these days i only pick up scissors to cut my hair. i know why you canât tell your mom about it. i know how the numbness slips over everything, a restless horrible cotton. i know how when you dropped the dish, you werenât crying about the broken glass. i know about feeling like all the roads have closed their exits, that you arenât supposed to still-be-here - and yet.
i am still here, and still yours, and i havenât forgotten. what iâm saying is if any hope is calling to you - i know itâs hard, but you have to listen. iâm saying keep driving, but slow down the car. sit down in the shower, iâm not judging you. we can stay in the dark with the good hot water and do nothing but stare. notice the stab wound. make it through another tuesday.
i know what it is like to miss yourself. do what you need to. come home to me. i am writing to you, my past self, from the future. iâll be waiting for you.
buzz aldrin and neil armstrong liked to do a thing where theyâd tell unfunny jokes at parties about being on the moon and when people were confused theyâd go âguess you had to have been thereâ
It was a huge milestone of scientific and technological advancement. (Plus, at the time, politically significant). Humanity went to space! We set foot on a celestial body that was not earth for the first time in human history! Thatâs a big deal! Iâve never thought about it before but now that I have, itâs ridiculous to me that thatâs not part of our everyday lives and the public consciousness anymore. Why donât we have a public holiday and a family barbecue about it. Why have I never seen the original broadcast of the moon landing? It should be all over the news every year!
Itâs July 20th. Thatâs the day of the moon landing. Next year is going to be the 54th anniversary. Iâm ordering astronaut shaped cookie cutters on Etsy and Iâm going to have a goddamn potluck. Youâre all invited.
PITCH: We call it Moon Day, and then every 7 years when it falls on a Monday, that's an even BIGGER deal and we call that Moon Day Monday and go absolutely apeshit about it (the next Moon Day Monday is in 2026 so we have a couple trial runs first)
On July 20, 1969, 109 hours and 42 minutes after launch, Neil Armstrong and Edwin âBuzzâ Aldrin entered the lunar lander âEagleâ, made a final check, and the Eagle undocked from the lunar orbiter âColumbiaâ, where the third member of the crew Michael Collins, stayed in orbit around the moon.
Partially manually piloted by Armstrong, the Eagle landed 0 degrees, 41 minutes, 15 seconds north moon latitude and 23 degrees, 26 minutes east moon longitude. Armstrong stepped out, and Aldrin followed 20 minutes later: human beings stepped on the moon for the first time. The two men spent 21 hours and 26 minutes on its surface.
One of the astounding aspects of the mission was the seeming simplicity of the technology used to get man to the moon. According to Oliver Gassmann, professor of Technology Management, the mobile phone in your pocket has one million times more memory than the Apollo 11âs computer. Same about the procesor: the latest phones typically have more than 100,000 times the processing power of the computer that landed man on the moon 50 years ago.
âIt suddenly struck me that that tiny pea, pretty and blue, was the Earth. I put up my thumb and shut one eye, and my thumb blotted out the planet Earth. I didnât feel like a giant. I felt very, very small.â âNeil Armstrong
(gifs from the documentary Chasing The Moon, 2019)
just had a weird thought, because my brain does that
without considering whether it's a good idea or not, suppose one were trying to make the UN an actual governing body, rather than an advisory one (i.e. it would have power to enforce it's decisions)
would it be more likely to succeed if the UN rep was elected directly, rather than appointed by the head of state of each country?
originally, in the US, the governor of a state appointed the senators, and it wasn't until later that that was changed so the people directly elected the senators.
so which would be more likely to work? And even if you weren't giving the UN governing power, do you think it would be a good idea for the delegate to the UN to be elected?
