EDIT: Due to the formatting with this theme, periods have been added in to make the paragraph breaks more clear. In addition, dashes have been added to serve the purpose of bullet points.
Alright, time for Asexuality 202 and 212 (these are arbitrary number level assignments but they’re bigger than 101 and they flow nicely in my opinion).
So, if you know Asexuality 101 (it seems that you do), then you know that Asexuality is the lack of sexual attraction. A+ you have passed Asexuality 101.
However, asexuality in all is a pretty complicated subject. So I am going to attempt to answer this question and then explain it to you, so that you get a deeper understanding of asexuality.
This is going to get really long and I apologize. Everything is under the cut.
This is the best most beautiful explanation I have ever read about this in the world EVER.
The other day when someone asked me what I write I thought, I write about love, then was shocked by thought, but only mostly because I realized it was true. When I write, it’s very often about love. Things and people I love, and sometimes when it’s about something that confuses me, it’s about how I’m confused about how I love there— when I spew angry rhetoric on activist issues, it’s because I love. And— look, it sounds so very superficial and kinda cheesy, but it isn’t what it sounds like, and I don’t particularly care what context people take it in. I love, and I love without shame.
Lately it’s been people, in general yes, but mostly the same people, in all their falls and sparkles, in all their hurt and fighting, and how I’ve looked them in the eye when they were at their most broken and seen their hearts still be so gentle. So full of love. I fall in love with people’s love when they think they’re incapable of it. I fall in love with people’s gentleness and kindness and fighting.
You’ve been writing about this a lot lately, haven’t you? I haven’t seen you write about these things—
I have always been writing about this. It has simply come in different forms at different points in my life.
Sometimes in your life you will find people who want to hear all your stories, and you want to hear all of theirs. You will want to hold their head in your lap and play with their hair as they reach up and offer you cookies to much on. Since we’re talking about love: this is love, this is a fraction of the Very Big Thing that is Love.
There’s this girl that I’ve known for a bit, and every so often she comes up in my mind when I’m not around anything that as to do with her either— just odd moments, the late-night lost-in-thought moments. About how she’s so far away and she’s been such a—stable rock. Earth. Rooted. Breathe, she said, from the other side of the world, when I freaked out over “is someone going to find out? Is it obvious? Will my mother know?” No one is going to find out, and I believed her. That was just one of the things. Especially lately, she’s been—there. Through all the 2 am messages. “I HAVE TO TELL YOU WHAT JUST HAPPENED”. Listened through the stories, frowned and cheered and rolled her eyes at all the right moments.
Tonight in particular it was— it was some stray thought that crossed my mind I snuffed out angrily, but it drifted off to: she must have stray thoughts that she has to snuff out too. And I wonder about the times she has thoughts and can’t quite snuff them out. Like the nights when she curls up in bed and avoids reflective surfaces and looking at herself because everything looks wrong, feels wrong, feels like the wrong body, wrong skin. I don’t the kind where you just decide you don’t like something and you just shrug and move along because that’s fine the way it is, I mean the days when you are toxic to yourself and need another voice to counter what your own voice cannot. Needing help is not a bad thing.
I wish I could hold her then, and she could point at every point on her body she thinks badly of so I can kiss it and whisper this is beautiful and I love it, again, and again, kissing and whispering, and then kissing the parts she won’t point to because she’s too embarrassed to admit she doesn’t think kindly of them then. Then kiss her all over again. And again. And wrap her in a fluffy blanket and bring her fluffy freshly baked chocolate chip cookies and then kiss her all over again so the pain in her head stops and she can love herself again too.
Here’s the thing about love, yes, you should love yourself, but love is not built in isolation, it is like an ocean— no, it is, like water, part of a cycle. You love and you are loved, you are loved and you love, it is circular and goes on with different and multiple ends and beginnings that change around all the time. And it does not ever stay in one state: it turns into mist, evaporates, collects elsewhere, disappears for long periods and cause droughts, comes raining down to flood in other places, all day, every day, cools some fires, carries fertile soil around to places, freezes, melts, freezes, melts, freezes, melts, cracks hearts, waits for you in the morning as dew on the leaves outside your window with the dawn, clinging to the leaves with sweetness, tumbles softly in winter air saying hello, hello, hello! until there’s so much of it that you’re just surrounded and don’t know what to do with it and hope it doesn’t turn into an avalanche. Here’s what you should do: Make a snowman. Make snowangels. Heat some and make hot chocolate and remember that even when it feels cold and miserable and you can’t get through because everything’s frosted and frozen over and you can’t see out the window because people have shut themselves off out of fear of vulnerability, there’s always some around, and maybe they need time, and at some point it will be warm again. And then there will be whole pools to jump into.
He’s surprised me lately. There has been so very much frost, and then wintery storms and frozen ice and frost and— and then it’s been warm. Melting. Not frozen-melting-frozen-cracking. Like snow when still cold, soft enough to fall into and play around in. Mostly pools of warm. Sometimes torrents, bringing in fresh soil. And—I think there’s a seedling growing in there too. There just might be.
She’s told me she loved my writing, so I’m writing about her, and when I’m not, it’s still for her now, they’re all stories for her. And there is love in there too.
- Intergenerational Relationships/Interactions: I’ve observed and experienced a lot of older queer folks attempting to fuck a younger member of the community under the guise of mentorship. It’s fucking abusive and disgusting, and I think we need to work, as a community, to hold those people accountable.
- The lack of healthy queer relationship resources. We have no examples of healthy queer relationships, and I think that a lot of queer couples regurgitate the heteropatriarchy because that’s what we’re fed - and it’s not us. I think trying to navigate the manifestations of heteropatriarchy in queer relationships is so daunting that we never have community conversations about it and drag it into the light for everyone to confront - leaving queer survivors of intimate partner violence to go at it alone. For queer abusers, I think there’s a huge potential for re-education about healthy relationship ways and we should find some ways to do that.
- Intra-POC bullshit. The anti-blackness, the appropriation of black culture by non-black queers, the appropriation of various brown cultures by non-indentifed folks, light skinned folks not taking into account the fucking space we take up, the invalidation of immigrant queers. It’s the small end of the wedge that is just going to grow unless we sit down and address this shit together. I want to say “people of color” and not have any shitty feelings about how that term doesn’t even remotely approach the divisions between our separate communities.
- Masculine-of-center queers who are held up as the face of the queer community. /gag. WHY IS FEMME PRESENTATION ONLY REVOLUTIONARY WHEN MASC FOLKS DECIDE THEY WANT TO PUT ON LIPSTICK AND SOME GLITTER FOR THE NIGHT AND LIKE A TUTU OR SOME SHIT. TELL ME WHY. I do this shit every day, but it’s considered decidedly not-queer because I’m femme presenting most days. Unless I’m with a masc person, my femme presentation renders me invisible in queer community. Arm candy for queer masc person = visibility. My queerness is contingent upon masc folks I surround myself with and THIS IS LITERALLY NEVER OKAY
- a party where everyone dresses up in fancy dresses, and you eat novelty chicken nuggets, fruit snacks, and drink capri suns and watch cartoons
- a party where everyone wears pajamas,and you drink red wine and have fancy finger foods and watch old Hollywood movies
The word you’re looking for is college
“To love. To be loved. To never forget your own insignificance. To never get used to the unspeakable violence and the vulgar disparity of life around you. To seek joy in the saddest places. To pursue beauty to its lair. To never simplify what is complicated or complicate what is simple. To respect strength, never power. Above all, to watch. To try and understand. To never look away. And never, never to forget.” Arundhati Roy
You think verbalresistance is really serious. You think it but you are wrong.
world war 4 will be over Laddu
I’m telling youyou heard it here first
The Label It Yourself (#LIY) campaign is a decentralized, autonomous grassroots campaign born out of our broken food system. We have been asking our government to label food products so we can make educated decisions about what we eat. The government has ignored our requests and so we are taking matters into our own hands.
Get your labels at www.labelityourself.org or create our own!
Hey, so the grocery stores who are hit by this are going to have to go through a lot of shit over those stickers. They will have to either remove them or, if they cannot, probably reclaim every product stickered. It won’t be the companies that make the products who deal with it directly, it will be the minimum wage employees at the store fronts—and the way distribution works, those stores are miles down the chain from producers. I get this campaign and the sentiment behind it, but just like trashing the office of a corporation will only force the ill-paid janitor to have a bad day, I don’t think this will do anything except make trouble for people who have nothing to do with decision making.
my husband works in a grocery store
don’t do this shit you end up hurting the little people, not the big people
Dat bolded text. But seriously, read it, because shit like this pisses me off too. It’s NEVER the corporations that have to deal with things like this. It’s always a poorly paid underling who has to deal with your passive aggressive antics. Not only that, but some of them will probably be punished because your shenanigans happen during their shift. Please think before you ruin an innocent person’s day.
Fuckers do this all the time to us and I have to spend time out of my day to remove each one and 1506 the items that are ruined. This comes out of our store’s budget and can eventually make us go under budget which has all of our hours cut. Fuck every single one of you for this stupid fucking stunt. You’re hurting people like me who are trying to get enough money to go back to college.
THE WORST PART ABOUT THIS IS THAT GMO’S ARE FUCKING AWESOME AND HAVE HELPED SAVE TENS OF MILLIONS OF LIVES AT LEAST AROUND THE WORLD
BY DEFACING THEM YOU’RE RUINING THE REPUTATION OF A LIFE-SAVING TECHNOLOGY THAT IS PREVENTING STARVATION IN THIRD-WORLD COUNTRIES THAT NORMALLY YOU DOUCHEBAGS TRY TO PROTECT
THE SAME PEOPLE WHO PULL THIS SHIT ARE THE ONES WHO CRY ABOUT PRIVILEGE AND CHARITY AND THEY ARE LITERALLY ALMOST CAUSING THE DEATHS OF MILLIONS OF PEOPLE EVERY TIME THEY THREATEN A MAJOR GMO OR GE CROP BECAUSE THEY ARE CONVINCING THIRD-WORLD LEADERS TO NOT OBTAIN THEM
JESUS FUCKING CHRIST TUMBLR ARE YOU TRYING TO END LIVES HERE
SERIOUSLY YOU MOTHER FUCKERS NEED TO LEARN SOMETHING ABOUT GENETICALLY MODIFIED FOOD BEFORE YOU START THIS SHIT.
THERE’S OVER 40 YEARS OF RESEARCH AND EXPERIENCE INTO THIS THAT PROVES THAT THERE’S NOT A DAMN THING WRONG WITH IT SO SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTHS AND STOP TRYING TO END AN INDUSTRY THAT IS ACTIVELY WORKING TO CURE WORLD HUNGER
All of the above stuff. Don’t be dicks people.
All of the bold.
Monsanto may be evil, but GMO foods are safe, and have been an enormous boon to many parts of the world. Not all GMO foods are developed by Monsanto or anything like them. As mentioned above, many are developed by humanitarian scientists in an effort to combat world hunger.
The problem is not and never has been genetically modified crops. The problem is greedy fucks and corporations run amok.
People seriously need to understand the difference between “We made this tomato more resistant to frost by splicing in a salmon gene” (science is awesome!) and “We made this plant resistant to toxic chemicals so we can spray them all over everything ever” (corporate greed is awful!). Labeling both of those things as GMOs is doing everyone a serious disservice. We need a new name for what Monsanto does. Toxic gengineering perhaps?
(And yes, the bolded stuff is also really important, I’m glad it’s been solidly covered. I’m a biologist, so gengineering is much more my bailiwick.)
well look at that, kids who have obviously never had to work a minimum-wage job are trying to be ~aktuhvists~
I actually prefer non-GMO food, I need to fucking know if there are fish genes in my tomatoes, I DO NOT EAT FUCKING FISH. So I think the “GMOs are amazing” bit was wayyyyyy too fucking far.
That being said, this campaign isn’t well thought-out and everything else said was rather good. I just fucking wish legislation was passed to make them let us know EXACTLY has been done to food. Cause no, fish genes in my damn tomatoes are not ~*awesome*~.
This was a great thread until the whole “GMOs are awesome” thing happened. Nope. The so-called “humanitarians” pushing GMO crops on farmers in developing countries are people like the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation, who are throwing their money behind Monsanto. It’s imperialism. They are using the trope of “starving children in Africa” to say we need to increase production through GMO crops. The truth is, we already produce enough food to feed everyone, but 30% of the food grown in the world rots because our food system is severely dysfunctional, not because farmers are doing a shitty job at growing food. We don’t need more food, we need more appropriate, accessible, sustainable food. GMOs will never give us that.
And no, we don’t know for sure they are even safe. Plants & animals have been bred selectively for thousands of years, everything we eat now is the product of domestication, but when you start swapping genes across plants and animals (like a fish and tomato), something that would never happen outside the lab, shit changes. We simply don’t know the consequences and cannot afford to be pushing this technology in an already dysfunctional food system. People should know what’s in their food, there should be a label.
The reasons there are “starving children in Africa” can be traced to colonialism, imperialism, economic, social, and environmental injustice - not because their crops are inferior. GMOs will not “cure world hunger.” There are reasons why indigenous people and traditional farmers world wide (such as La Vía Campesina) are standing up against GMOs. So stop promoting it as some God-send from Western science to “third world countries.”
THANK YOU BECCA.
Unknown (formerly att. Johann Zoffany)
Dido Elizabeth Belle
oil on canvas
Scone Palace, Perth (private collection of the Earl of Mansfield)
Although this painting falls outside the usual scope of this blog, it is one of my favorite historical European paintings. Dido Elizabeth Belle was the illegitimate daughter of Admiral Sir John Lindsay and enslaved African woman named Belle.
This painting was most likely commissioned by her father, the nephew of the Earl of Mansfield, and depicts the beautiful and vivacious Belle alongside her cousin, Elizabeth Murray.
The first time I saw this painting was in an art history classroom, accompanied by a story regarding the dehumanization of Africans in the Unites States, and the scores of visiting Americans who were scandalized by this painting. In America and several places in Europe, contemporaneous paintings always depicted people considered Black in subservient positions in relation to people considered White, if they bothered to paint them at all. To raise a bastard daughter of color alongside legitimate heirs was antithetical to American thought.
Dido Belle was raised and educated alongside the other highborn daughters of the household, and remained a favorite of the Earl and her father well into her thirties, after which an advantageous marriage was arranged.
Her position in the Earl’s household supervising the poultry yards was typical for any lady of high birth at the time, but her job overseeing the lord’s correspondence was usually a task reserved for a highly educated male clerk or scribe and is evidence of her importance and elevated rank. She received an allowance of £30 per year, more than any except the heiress herself and a sum unheard of at the time for any illegitimate daughter.
Upon Lord Mansfield’s death in 1788, Belle was furnished with a £500 lump sum in addition to a £100 annuity, as well as a suitable marriage to John Davinier, with whom she had three children. In Mansfield’s will, her status as a free person was carefully confirmed, since many would have been all too happy to divest her of her fortune.
Belle died in 1804 and was interred in St. George’s Fields, the parish to which she and her husband belonged.
My interest in this story was renewed recently when I learned that an upcoming film, Belle (currently in production), will be a dramatized biopic of Dido Elizabeth Belle’s life. The titular role will be played by South African actress Gugu Mbatha-Raw.
Filed under Costume Dramas I Want To See
OMG yes please