tumblr, I love you, but I have no self control when it comes to this app and it makes me feel ill after too many days in a row with 4+ hrs on here, so, ta! For now
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Today's Document

tannertan36

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tumblr, I love you, but I have no self control when it comes to this app and it makes me feel ill after too many days in a row with 4+ hrs on here, so, ta! For now
The mitochondria being the powerhouse of the cell is a fact which is often discussed on the internet. The Golgi apparatus, however, being the post office of the cell, has not gotten nearly as much recognition. This is in line with the years-long underfunding of the postal service, which provides a deeply important service to society yet does not get the recognition it deserves. In this essay I will
There’s something truly exquisite about stories where the real tragedy is the price you paid to stand on top of the world
Hollow victories … sacrificing your humanity on the altar of what you perceive to be the greater good … the loneliness of godhood … regret for the person you used to be … the realisation that there is no way back … *chef’s kiss*
#unrelated but i found out if you become a manager at walmart you can’t step back down to being a regular employee ever again#it’s either quit or transfer to another store. this post made me think of that (via @lesbx)
Net zero information, good job everyone
Sometimes I forget that I really am pretty weird and my experiences are fairly far afield from “normal.”
This girl who I vaguely knew from the coffee shop showed up one day and said she thought her mom had died that morning and I figured she was probably overreacting so I said I’d go check with her and it turns out her mom HAD died but we honestly weren’t sure when it had happened so I lifted her off the bed and attempted CPR and then ended up having to talk to cops and this poor girl’s family for HOURS as she called her dad and brothers and the cops wanted to know if the mom was on any medications or if she had been depressed and I was like “I have no idea, I had literally never met the lady and I don’t even know the family’s last name, the first ever full conversation I had with the daughter was this morning.” And apparently THAT was super suspicious or something.
So anyway that was a rough day and the next day I go into the coffee shop and the manager (who is basically never in) comes over and says “Debbie says you had a rough day yesterday.” And I was like “uh, yeah. It was pretty weird.” And then he was like “Debbie says that you handled it really well. And that you filled out an application to work here a couple weeks ago.” And I was like “I guess?” And he was like “Okay you can do a training shift today and you’re on your own tomorrow. We don’t normally hire people under 21 and we don’t normally hire regulars so don’t fuck up.” (I was 18)
So I started working at the cash-only coffee shop that was patronized exclusively by the weirdest people in town (who had all slept with each other, had no money, and had the most drama of any group I’ve ever been part of) and was used to launder money made by the owner’s cocaine sales for the local gang.
The first shift I worked alone was the next night and when I called the manager and told him one of the regulars had been chasing people out of the parking lot to sell meth the manager told me to ban him so I was like “Hey dude, manager says you’re banned” and he was like “You’re a fucking cunt and I’m going to wait until you’re alone and I’m gonna fucking kill you” and then he drove around the block about twenty times and screamed “cunt” out the window every time he passed by where I was cleaning the patio.
One of the regulars, who was a nearly-seven-foot-tall hacker and gunsmith who worked graveyard in Hollywood, waited around for me to finish closing and then offered to drive me home because otherwise I’d have to walk three miles alone and there was that whole “circling meth dealer” thing going on. I decided to take a chance on getting a ride from tall, dark, and scary and that paid off pretty well because it’s been fifteen years and I’ve been married to that tall weirdo since 2011.
And that’s how I got my first non-porn job.
#she… #thought… #her mom had died? #and she went for #coffee???
Everyone who hung out at this coffee shop was in some way or another the weirdest person I’ve ever fucking met.
Like the evidence she presented for “I think my mom died this morning” was “She didn’t wave to me like she normally does when I was leaving the house and it didn’t strike me as odd until just now.”
Like that’s why I agreed to go check, I was really pretty sure she was just being paranoid and needed some mental health support not some “Oh god I’m sorry your mom did actually just die and I need to coach you through a 911 call and hold your hand while you tell your dad over the phone that his wife is dead” support.
But then again her mom had been dead for. A PRETTY LONG TIME. By the time I got there. Long enough for blood to pool on the lower part of her body, which I didn’t realize until after I’d moved her off the bed and attempted CPR because the room was very dark and also lined floor-to-ceiling with stacked newspapers and magazines so I didn’t really see what we were dealing with until the girl opened the curtains and I realized that her mom’s face was half green and purple with pooled blood. (I, uh, maybe sometimes still have nightmares about this because the whole thing was note-for-note like a scene out of Se7ev except for shit like her boyfriend and his roommates showing up to comfort her and also hauling along a cat carrier full of very pissed off cat which wasn’t like a scene from Se7en it was just an additional layer of surreality on an already very surreal day - said boyfriend also yelled at me for saying I was going to call another coffee shop regular to come get me because “this family doesn’t need this kind of chaos and attention right now” and I was like “you brought three people here and also I don’t have a car and I’m miles away from home so unless you’re calling me a cab I am getting THE FUCK out of here and this other coffee shop regular is the least likely to cause a scene”)
So there’s a very reasonable possibility that this girl was very, VERY aware that her mom was dead but needed to go get somebody to help her process this and understand that it was real because fuck it, I can see having a little bit of a mental break and needing to GET AWAY and get another, potentially saner, human to verify before I started really internalizing what had happened in that situation.
But still, I don’t know how long it takes for blood to settle in a body or what the sleeping arrangement was with mom and dad but daughter and I got to the house at around noon, she’d come to the coffee shop at around 10 (we had to spend a long time convincing her to call mom’s cell phone and the house phone and then convincing her to go check and she wouldn’t go alone so that’s why I went) so if mom died in the night I don’t know why nobody noticed until at least 10am.
Anyway then the girl and her boyfriend showed up at the coffee shop later that night and she said she wanted to talk about LITERALLY ANYTHING ELSE so we distracted them by talking about the best way to shave genitals and, protip, don’t use clippers on your junk.
One time one of my coworkers came in to open and somebody had broken into the patio and moved all the furniture to the perimeter to better frame the giant stinking shit they’d taken in the middle of the floor.
This coffee shop was the only place I’ve ever had to come in and clean tampons off the ceiling.
At some point our coffee maker just stopped working so one of the shift leads brought in his grandma’s Mr. Coffee.
That same shift lead once randomly shut down the coffee shop all day because he needed help editing his chapbook because he’d gotten a contract with Crown Publishing. That same dude skipped out on paying rent for his apartment for like three months because every time the owner came by to ask him for his rent his answer was “Fuck you, I saved a baby” because he’d saved a baby from a fire. Eventually that was his answer to every criticism and it was still relentlessly charming until he became the night manager of a Denny’s and then it was just kind of sad.
My elementary school DARE officer came in at one point because of “suspicious activity” because cops were always coming in for suspicious activity to see if the regulars had left paraphernalia out because one time somebody literally left a three-foot-tall bong set up next to one of the potted plants on the patio. I was like “oh shit, you were the DARE officer at my school, sorry for smoking” and she was like “don’t worry about it, I’ve been an alcoholic since my girlfriend left me.”
I went to a school TWENTY FOUR MILES away from this coffee shop. This was a SMALL shop. In a stupid, shitty suburb that nobody goes to. This wasn’t a coffee shop that had ever been on California’s Gold or made the news or been featured in a “Best Coffee Shops You’ve Never Heard Of” article. So I’m at my school TWENTY FOUR MILES away, in a totally different county, and I mention to one of my classmates that I work at this coffee shop and he just goes “Holy shit, so you know where to get good drugs?” And I was kind of offended but he wasn’t wrong and I had actually blown a guy in the back seat of the Good Drug Dealer’s car. (Unrelated to drugs, it was basically pity oral) (and not that the Good Drug Dealer was a good guy compared to the shouty meth dealer, just that he was the one who sold the Good Drugs)
There were twelve WLW who hung out there regularly and we all had the worst lesbian sheep problem and somehow the fact that none of us could get our shit together and fuck each other did NOTHING to prevent the kind of “I’ve slept with all your exes” drama that you expect out of insular queer scenes which culminated in a confrontation that ended like six friendships. Turns out Debbie had told the manager about my adventure with the body because Debbie thought I was cute and that worked out well for me because I thought Debbie was cute and we made out, like, twice but her girlfriend lived with her literally less than a hundred yards away and wasn’t open to a poly arrangement so instead me and Debbie were just cuddle buddies and we’d nap in the lounge in the back of the shop where everyone else either fucked or did unimaginable amounts of blow.
When the coffee shop finally shut down the owners just told everyone that it was closing for four days for earthquake renovations and when we all met up to hang out in front of the shop the next day (because we were all fucking losers and had literally nothing else going on) we found out that the owners had changed the locks and thrown all the shit we’d left inside (CDs, a couple backpacks, paintings, ashtrays, board games) into the dumpster along with the broken coffee machine and they’d shattered every single bottle of torani syrup in the place on top of the pile. The only Chumbawamba album I’ve ever owned came out of that dumpster covered in butterscotch because fuck it, I wanted a souvenir and I wasn’t about to take Sheryl Crow.
I miss that coffee shop like you’d miss a lover you left behind.
Everyone imagining this with the fast food reaction meme was imagining it in the wrong direction.
there is something truly, uniquely repulsive about the kind of writing demanded for college and scholarship applications. you are obligated to have dreams. you are obligated to perform ~community service~. the model applicant is a hopelessly naive wide-eyed idealist eager to be exploited and left out to dry. you must have experienced adversity, but you must explain how you have triumphed through your own intellect and will. you must aestheticize your failures, rendering them as tales of redemption and growth. you must sound authentic and vulnerable, without venturing anything that could be genuinely risky. you are not supposed to write about your dream of working a soulless corporate gig for decent pay so you can finally be done with this constant striving and focus on your family. you are not supposed to explain that your grades are patchy because school is fundamentally hostile to neurodivergent students and you can't just overcome that through your individual effort. you are not supposed to explain that you stopped volunteering because of burnout and trauma. you are not supposed to explain that you gave up on having "dreams" because trying to make a difference means doing more work for less pay and greater scrutiny and you're just too sick and tired for that shit.
I'm gonna be frank, I'm kinda convinced asking for extracurriculars and community service was just the reaction of schools to minority students doing decently on standardized tests.
Because you can't shut down intelligent students from poor families even with shitty public schools since they have minimum curriculum standards but you *can* price people from a poor background out of the free time and ability to volunteer.
That's exactly what it was--specifically, they wanted to keep out Jews, so they (particularly the Ivy League, but it quickly spread) implemented requiring extracurriculars, passing the SAT, the personal essay, acceptance interviews, and legacy admissions, because...
The defining feature of the new system was its categorical rejection of the idea that admission should be based on academic criteria alone. Though the view that scholastic performance should determine admission was not uncommon among the faculty, the top administrators of the Big Three (and of other leading private colleges, such as Columbia and Dartmouth) recognized that relying solely on any single factor — especially one that could be measured, like academic excellence — would deny them control over the composition of the freshmen class. Charged with protecting their institutional interests, the presidents of the Big Three wanted the latitude to admit the dull sons of major donors and to exclude the brilliant but unpolished children of immigrants, whose very presence prompted privileged young Anglo-Saxon men — the probable leaders and donors of the future — to seek their education elsewhere. ... The centerpiece of the new policy would be "character" —a quality thought to be in short supply among Jews but present in abundance among high-status Protestants.
i cannot emphasize enough how important it is to have gossipy bitchy littl pirvate group chats or discord servers with like 4 people in them whose stated purpose is posting “new kind of guy” or “this reddit post is so fuckin dumb” or “i got into a fight on twitter today look at this idiot’s reply” so your homies can still see it and laugh and back you up but more importantly, so you are not tempted to post these kind of things on main
Still remember when a homo- and transphobic acquaintance tried to bring up JKR’s views on trans people in conversation and I shut it down with «oh yeah she’s been saying a lot of dumb shit on Twitter after she finished writing Harry Potter, like when she claimed Dumbledore was gay, just to be politically correct», which made it absolutely impossible for him to admit that he agreed with anything JKR had ever said. Sometimes you just have to weaponise people’s homophobia against their transphobia.
Other ways to stop family members/acquaintances from going on bigoted rants:
«Isn’t this all a bit silly? I mean, I’m more concerned about the economy/the war in Ukraine/covid/my job» - weaponised whataboutism
«Do you work with a lot of trans people? Because it seems like this is a problem you frequently encounter in everyday life from the way you talk about it» and when they say they don’t, follow up with «well then I don’t see what you’re making such a fuss about»
«Idk, I haven’t been much on social media lately, I think Twitter is a waste of time» - make them feel like they’re the ones who are terminally online
«Idk, I’m not that concernced with other people’s genitals and sex lives» - creep shaming
The point is that I’ve used all of these in various contexts and they’ve saved a good number of dinner table conversations from derailing into pointless debating. You don’t de-radicalise friends and family members by entering into political discussions they initiate just to stir up shit. You de-radicalise them by shifting the focus away from their shitty opinions and onto the things you have in common and the practical everyday stuff that exists outside their internet echo chambers.
This is my final project for a summer English class I’m taking! Once everything’s graded, I’ll finally have an associate degree.
I hope you guys enjoy the comic. It has devoured my week. As always, reblogs are greatly appreciated!
the fact that children are both more likely to catch and to suffer death or complications like blindness from monkeypox, combined with the cdc and media's immensely irresponsible framing of it as a gay sti and the massive recent spread of "groomer" rhetoric is going to get lgbt people killed
To be clear for those who don't know, monkeypox is NOT an STI. It's transmitted the same way chickenpox is, touching skin or objects that have touched the skin while infectious, or breathing the same air at close quarters. There's NO evidence thus far that it's ever transmitted through semen or vaginal fluids.
yes. while it is unproductive to assume any bodily fluid carries no risk of infection, (especially as monkeypox dna has been found in semen, saliva and feces) this is a disease which can also spread via things like ATM touchpads, laundry, doorknobs and toilet seats, and people are reporting having their symptoms of fever and sores dismissed and being refused testing because they are not men who have sex with men.
fortunately there is a highly effective vaccine, however there is an extremely limited amount available and in places with better availability such as NYC it is restricted to men who have recently had sex with multiple men, and newspapers like the NYT and Daily Mail have been blithely publishing photos of the men waiting outside in line to recieve it, outing them
I know people in the medical field that refer monkeypox as "smallpox's annoying younger cousin". The two viruses are "closely related".
For god's sake, do not buy into the homophobic rhetoric that is being spread around. Anyone can get it.
I’m always gonna be pissed that amatonormatvity as a term and a model for understanding society was literally mocked into disuse by exclusionists because of its association with aromantic folks.
Amatonormativity, honestly, has approximately fuck-all to do with aros. We did not even coin it, we’re simply the only people who actually take it seriously cause we’re among the ones who are most hurt by it. And it PISSES me the fuck off that it is not a widespread model used in greater queer discussions.
Amatonormativity is what causes romantic relationships to be prioritized above all else. The adults who find themselves slowly losing friends until their only contacts are their coworkers and their own nuclear family? Amatonormativity.
Rebelling against this culture and embracing a non-hierarchical view of relationships is the first step to making genuine connections and improving our collective mental health.
May I also add: Amatonormativity is what causes consensual non-monogamy be treated as inherently abusive, and its the same thing that causes being in an abusive relationship to be seen as better than being single. Amatonormativity is a fundamental part of slut shaming, stigma against sex work and rape culture. Amatonormativity impacts everyone and really should have become a widely discussed and challenged concept but people just hated aspecs so much they were willing to shoot their alleged activism in the foot for it.
The way capitalism pushes everyone to organize into two-adult-some-kids financial units that are much more easily exploitable and kept under control than interconnected multi-generational communities where you don’t need to be having sex with someone to share resources with them? Amatonormativity.
America has a weird relationship with cults where they’re terrified of small cults (or organizations they think are cults) but completely normalized massive cults that hurt many more people (eg: LDS Church, Jehovah’s Witnesses, the Amish, Scientology, most Megachurches)
To anybody asking if the Amish are a cult, the answer is yes, very much so.
They’re a high control group that isolate you from society. The cult decides how you dress, how you behave, who you marry and how. They control what you know, blocking all information from the outside world. They control how you feel and what you’re allowed to think with threats of both social and supernatural harm. They’re a cult.
The best method to determine if a group is a cult, in my opinion, is Steven Hassan’s (cult expert and former cult member himself) BITE model.
BITE stands for Behavior Control, Information Control, Thought Control, and Emotional Control.
The more points a group “scores” on the model, the more of a cult it is.
I think this model is the best one for several reasons:
It’s more nuanced than “cult” or “not cult” and doesn’t make false equivalences between groups
It’s versatile, applying to groups big and small, and cults of all kinds, religious, political, financial, etc.
It focuses on what’s important, which is what the cult does to its members, and those members’ experiences, and not on irrelevant details like how uncommon their doctrines are or whether they have a charismatic leader
This is a great example of Thought Control used by cults whenever they’re confronted with criticism.
This isnt a defense so much as a question, but dont the amish do rumspringa? Like, a big part of cults is the indoctrination of children born into the cult or brought into the cult as young as possible. But rumspringa as far as i gathered is the opposite of “no outside information” or “no interaction with ex cult members” and actively encourages young 16 year olds to go do shit thats fully against the rules of the amish?
Like obviously we arent going to see any amish people show up to talk about this but i just have the question anyway. Pretty sure most if not all organized religion is intended to control its followers, therefore all religion is a cult, but we consider the “culty” ones to be the ones that try to make it impossoble for you to leave… and rumspringa is the encouragment to explore and be sure youve seen your options before you pledge? Id say christianity is more culty for baptising 6 year olds and phrasing that like a contract, than the amish? But im not am expert lmao so idk.
I might have a bit of an answer re: the Rumspringa thing- grain of salt, this isn’t based on research into the Amish per se, but on research into similar processes with other religious groups, namely, Evangelicals, and making a comparison. One of the reasons Evangelicals and Mormons send forth missionaries is to deepen the divide between their members and the ‘other’, because missionaries aren’t usually welcomed with open arms- most people find them deeply annoying. So you have these kids, out on their own for the first time, cut off from their families and communities, and thrown into entirely new ones, where they are generally rejected, belittled, antagonized, and sometimes outright attacked.
This can be deeply traumatizing, and rather than make the missionary go ‘hm, maybe what I’m doing is Annoying and Fucked Up,’ it usually makes them go ‘wow, the world outside my religion really is a terrible awful place like everyone said,’ so they bank hard and lean in even deeper into the cult, because they are comparatively more welcomed there than in the ‘outside world’.
I would imagine Rumspringa can have a similar affect on Amish youths- imagine you spent your entire life in a closed, isolated community, living in a very specific way in a close-knit community, and suddenly you step out into greater society- and it’s all different. Cultural norms are different, the people react to you strangely, you seem funny and weird and you’re devoid of both cultural touchstones and normative knowledge. Depending on how isolated you were, you might not even know how to navigate in this world on a fundamental level.
No matter how rebellious and excited you might be, this is going to be an overwhelming experience- you aren’t so much exploring your other options as you are getting beat upside the head with an alternative you were in no way shape or form prepared for, making that alternative scarier and harder to adapt to. There’s a lot of secret rules and hidden loops to modern society that can be tough to overcome even when you’re born inside it, nevermind raised explicitly to avoid it.
So if we look at it through this lens, Rumspringa is less an encouragement of independence, and more like a subtle threat. This is the world you have to look forward to if you leave. It’s confusing and complicated and full of rejection and is going to punish you for existing in it. Might as well stay here, where it’s safe and familiar.
This is somewhat touched on if you read interviews with ex-amish folks, although this will also by necessity be from people with the biggest bones to pick about the community, and had some of the worse experiences. I found this interview on VICE, and some of the interviewee’s quotes on leaving:
The biggest physical challenge was that I didn’t know how to survive or act in the outside world. I didn’t know how to get a job. I had only a third-grade education. […]
Everything felt loud and scary. The electric lights hurt my eyes, and I was constantly turning them off. I was even scared of the hairdryer at first, because it made so much noise. I felt very overwhelmed for about six months.
Plus, there’s always the fact that if you do decide to peace out on Rumspringa. Well, that’s your entire family gone. That’s all your friends, siblings, cousins. You just don’t have those anymore. You will likely be shunned by them, if you try to stay in contact at all. It’s an emotional toll that can be difficult to overcome in its own right, especially when you’re young.
You don’t have to tie someone down with threats to make them stay where you want them. You just have to convince them the alternative is worse.
me, starting a fight i can't win: lol
me, losing: oh what the fuck
this post was about having to do laundry but this is so much funnier actually
most “protect the children” campaigns come with the implication that what’s best for children is 1950s white christian nuclear families and rigid adherence to the status quo, and having been a children I can definitively say that is very very incorrect
Egon Schiele
Two Girls on a Fringed Blanket
1911
LADY GAGA (PHOTO SHOT BY NICK KNIGHT, 2011)