1997-061a - Tumblr blog

[1997-061a]

if you wanna understand why transmisogyny is so horrifying you have to understand the sorts of social and cultural patterns it takes to abuse someone until they will happily fulfill the role of the fetishized tokenized tranny bc any other option means isolation and death.

patriarchal society needs its sacrificial hypersexualized disgusting living sex-objects, and transmisogyny is how it tries to turn a human into that. i keep thinking abt this 4chan thread i read ~2013 shortly after i came out, in which a chaser talked about how he specifically liked dating trans women because “they have such low self-esteem that you can make them do anything”. he went on to talk about how he specifically looks for trans women with “dead, lifeless eyes” (aka dissociated from ptsd) because “they’re like a doll you can mold into whatever you want, then discard when you’re done, and there will always be more desperate for love”

that’s what transmisogyny is: a systematic pattern of abuse applied to a small sacrificial portion of the population to create a class of women with no claim to community or personhood, who will never be defended or avenged, who can be safely sunk into the attrition of patriarchy’s darker desires to protect the cis women, who after all could one day be mothers or some other kind of person. we are the class sacrificed to men’s violence and cis women’s violence. the socially unimportant. the weird and ugly. the punching bag. the blowup doll that talks. the mad artist that produces something great and then must burn out cause who could support that eccentric through life? the activist who makes huge steps for the better but stumbles on a community that would rather rape and abandon her than admit that it needs her. the queen of the dance who gets beaten with sticks as she’s leaving it and no one helps.

and its easy to do this, by painting the class as predatory, by making us hate and fear our own genitals, by indoctrinating us with an absurd amount of self-hatred, by giving us no out, no safe community, no one we can ever turn to. every cis person becomes a beartrap just waiting to swing shut and take out a chunk of flesh. and with fear and trauma we start to disappear from the world. we commit suicide, we overdose on heroin, we starve quitely in rooms playing videogames, or we become the tranny they want, deadeyed and always compliant and always ready to soak up blame. but whatever happens its the same: over time, we cease to exist. the person we are withdraws from the world until there is little to nothing left.

i don’t know how to stop it, but this has to stop. this is not something anyone ever should have to go through.

[1997-061a]

older siblings were the first letsplayers

[1997-061a]

some people have gotten so absorbed into the circus of internet jousting as politics that they can describe hiroshima and nagasaki as "getting their shit pushed in" because to them it's all just teams. people on the internet just carry on the dehumanization of capitalist imperialism and try to disguise it as social justice. i need them to go to the hiroshima peace park memorial and throw up at the child art of family members' skin melting off when they realize each 1 of the 250,000 was a person. if they are even still capable of realizing that, they might be too well primed to view [ n koreans / russians / iranians / etc ] as barbarian invaders who deserve the comeuppance of having their rivers filled with corpses and their children die vomiting blood. sorry for the ask itt's just hard to find anything as sickening to me as so called anti imperialists who would celebrate the usa's development, use, and proliferation of nuclear weapons as long as the civilians targeted are inside the borders of a country they think deserves it

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[1997-061a]

Be gentle, son. It's a human.

[1997-061a]

[1997-061a]

Lorestan, Iran

[1997-061a]

Snails Kiss On Cherries [photo by Vyacheslav Mishchenk]

[1997-061a]

by Zachary Yanko

[1997-061a]

“When I started working in theatre in England, I would meet people, and they would say ‘Oh, I voted for Margaret Thatcher.’ The first time I heard someone saying that, I honestly thought they were joking. I’d be thinking, I have never met anyone from your world. What’s it like? Do you roast children over open fires?”

— David Tennant (via tennantsabout )

[1997-061a]

What she says: im fine

What she means: the average age of conception over the past 250k years is apparently 26.9. Let's round it down to 25. Think of your birth mother. Hold her hand. Imagine her holding hands with her mother. Within 4 people, you're back in time 100 years, and it's an intimate family dinner. Just after WWI. Add another 16 people, a small party of 20, and you're in the 1500s. Double it, twice, and you're at 80 people. Your family would fill a restaurant, and you're at the height of the Roman empire. At 100 people, Confucius is alive but Socrates has not yet been born. 100 people. That's a medium sized wedding. A small lecture theatre or concert. 200 people, probably the biggest party i could ever hope to host, takes you back 5000 years. The guests at your soirée of parents would be contemporaries of the Egyptian and Indus Valley civilisations, although you'd probably be too busy fixing drinks and nibbles to talk to all of them. Just imagine it. 200 of you. That's all it takes to get back 5,000 years. And we could go further. 1000 people, a decent sized concert, a large high school, and we're at the end of the last ice age. Your ancestors are comparing their pink floyd vinyl with music played on instruments carved from wood or bones of long vanished species. Wander through the crowd. See your own features and phrases and gestures refract out like a kaleidoscope. What would they make of you? What do you make of them? Why does it feel so unfair that even that first 100 years --that small family dinner of four--is out of your grasp? Maybe it's because questions of spatial distance have become negligible to us now. why, oh why, does time hold out against us so stubbornly

[1997-061a]

Getting a nice pube in your mouth from someone you love is like wielding in your teeth the stem of a beautiful rose. IMO

[1997-061a]

In the club

[1997-061a]

[1997-061a]

the humanity of the AIDS crisis: the ward by gideon mendel

colorized by me

[1997-061a]

A bird explaining to a hedgehog crossing so it doesn’t die.

[1997-061a]