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At the company retreat, one extremely drunk girl asked what my pronouns were. (Eventually, it took her a while to word the question.) After the whole conversation was done, she goes- "YEAHHH GURL, Get on with--with THY bad self! See what I did?? They/them/thy."
I was almost holding back tears from trying not to laugh as I told her yes that's great you nailed it honey. Thank you very much I am feeling the love.
Anyway I've been assigned Thee/Thine at Supportive Drunk Girl
#she was the epitome of ''he a little confused but he got the spirit''#everyone at this company retreat was drunk as a skunk#it was wild#all of them were very sweet don't get me wrong#but as someone who never went to college parties this was my first Experience with a true party
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my drive home from work yesterday
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Apparently the local university’s undergraduate entomology course sends students to catch insect specimens at the same place I like to go birdwatching, which explains why I saw three enormous frat looking dudes with tiny bug nets and overheard one emphatically say “bro BRO I told you we already have enough lepidopterans”
#I told my brother (in the ag field) this and he said ‘oh those are definitely turf bros’#apparently entomology is a required course if you want to specialize in golf course management which I guess is a career that some desire#and there is some Westside story type beef between the turf bros taking entomology for pest control reasons and future PHDs who love bugs#actually chatted with them later they were very lovely
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i did wrestling in middle school. on one hand, i was actually quite good at it, which was nice. being good at any sport was a new achievement for me. on the other hand, i was bi, and i was trying very hard not to notice that i was bi, and getting folded into knots by very kind, very muscular dorks made that task somewhat difficult.
adding fire to the problem was that my parents and my grandparents wanted to watch my matches, because they were very proud that their Gangly Nerd Son was actually Sporting, and they wanted to cheer me on. which would've been sweet and all, but if there are four people you do not want there during a key part of your Burgeoning Sexual Awakening, it is your mom and your dad and your grandma and your grandpa.
right? i mean, imagine some guy's got your head in his armpit, and you're going you know, old sweat smells bad, but fresh sweat has a sort of and then you make eye contact with your grandpa in the stands and you remember you're swearing spandex so if you pop a boner people aren't just going to be able to see the outline, they're going to be able to count the veins, and the only way you will be able to restore your family's honor after that would be by moving to siberia and renouncing joy, forever. that, or lift your entire body up by your kneck then twist 180 degrees without paralyzing yourself.
it’s a lot of pressure, is what i’m saying.
still it did motivate me to win my matches really fast. because i was so tall and skinny, i was stupidly good at the double leg takedown, and then once someone was knocked down, i'd just do the half nelson and kind of flip em over for the pin. then the ref would count to three and i’d win. EZPZ.
i had one match where that went great. won in the first ten seconds, sat back down, and prepared myself for a good hour or two of doing fuck all. didn't even feel bad the parents/grandparents were gonna be bored. the matches went up from me in 5 pound increments (i was in the 115 lbs division) and it was going great until we got to the 145 lbs division. the other school's wrestler stepped onto the mat, and she turned out to be a girl so our guy flipped, because for straight guys, wrestling a girl is not a pleasant experience.
i'm not entirely unsympathetic. my experience wrestling dudes was definitely a little traumatic. but also, i dealt. guy could've dealt too. instead, he refused to wrestle, and the coach went - fine. not even worth fighting over.
so he went to the 140 pounder, and that guy said, nosir, my mom said mormons can't wrestle girls. next guy down, 135 pounder, now he knew he could pull the same card and thus did. 130 pounder, 125, both tapped out. he got to the 120 guy, and that guy was catholic, but he said he was considering being mormon, and thus would have to pass. as a precaution.
coach blew up a little at that. he said "is there anyone - anyone - on this entire goddamn team that is willing to wrestle a girl?" and then he pointed at me and said "YOU. MAT. GO."
and i'll be real, if i'd been paying more attention, i'd have pulled the mormon card too, but i'd just been putting all that audio into a buffer file because i was reading, so i was halfway across the mat before i even processed what had been said and by then it was too late to turn back.
still i had a plan. and my plan - my beautiful, perfect plan - was to do what i'd always done. tackle, flip, pin, win. sit down. read. bore my family to death. move on.
i got the first part right. she was bigger than me, but she wasn't taller. just an incredibly stout woman. god built me like a snake with glasses, just as he built her like a combat cube. the problem was the half nelson. soon as she was down, i tried hooking my arm under hers from behind and for both genders, the defense for this move is just clamping your arms really fucking tight against your sides. if you're a guy, that's whatever, but if you're a girl - especially if you're god's chosen combat cube - that pins your opponents hand right against your boob.
so, i got the hook in, she clamped, my whole arm pressed against something soft, my coach was yelling THE HALF NELSON. BABYLON! JUST FINISH IT! FINISH THE HALF NELSON! and i was just trying to press hard enough to finish, when then my brain went
...oh.
and i flipped out. of course i flipped out. i like girls, and touching a boob is an elemental experience, and i was not ready. i was not prepared. i had not committed the sacred rites. i recoiled like i'd just brushed my arm against the surface of the sun, stood up, and backed away. nobody in the room knew why i'd given up. all they saw was me, right about to win, suddenly flailing around and scrambling. so everyone started screaming at me to just get the half nelson again, and i couldn't really yell back there's a fuckin' boob in the way and it was very distressing, and the only way i could think of to make them stop was just doing it over again the right way.
so i did.
i hunkered down and prepared myself for Wrasslin' Attempt #2: The Sequel.
i knocked her down again, EZPZ. i went for the half nelson again, but she knew what i was about to do so she super clamped, and i knew she was gonna super clamp, so i wound my arm back like a pop-eye cartoon punch before swinging my arm through the gap between her bicep and her side, but the amount of time i spent winding back super signalled what i was about to to do, which gave her time to clamp even harder, which somehow redirected the entire force of the popeye punch to the bottom of her bra.
it spat out a single boob the same way an action hero might spit out one single tooth after getting a solid crack across the jaw. as if to say:
*ptooie.* "that all you got?"
i did not actually see this. my experience was that first there was an arm, then there was a bit of boob, but i was braced, i was ready, forward at all costs, tatakae motherfuckers, and then the boob went away, and i didn't know where it went but my team, and the audience, and everyone who was in front of me, they all gasped like i just kicked them in the stomach. except for my coach. he was behind me, and thus one of the four people in the room who did not see the boob. now my mom, my dad, my grandma, and my grandpa, they all got flashed but nooooooo, coach thunderbutt was behind me, and he didn't see shit so he was still yelling NOOOOOO BABYLON WHAT ARE YOU DOING JUST FINISH THE NELSON! GO FOR THE KILL! BABYLON! BABYLON!
but i did not go for the kill. i stood up and she stuffed her boob back real fast, and we just kind of circled each other awkwardly until time ran out and i won on points. that's not technically allowed, but the ref had some mercy on me.
my coach did not.
i barely had time to sit down before he strode over to the bench to chew me out.
"babylon," he said, in that very calm way people get when they're too pissed to yell. "why didn't you pin?"
and i didn't know how to say well coach, i tried, but there was a boob, and it kept getting in the way, and my mom was watching, and so was my dad, and so was his dad, and his mom, and god (like bible god) and that's a can of worms because i'm pretty sure he was already mad at me, and i'm wearing spandex, and i think i might have to move to siberia, so instead i said
"i uh. i forgot how to do the half nelson."
which is actually impossible. forgetting how to do the half nelson is like forgetting how to swallow your spit.
and he looked at me, like i was the dumbest person in the entire world, and i looked through him like i'd just survived my 250th day in a trench at verdun, and he said: fine.
fine.
but we're all going to practice it for an hour tomorrow because you forgot.
and then he left.
and my buddies had the gall to be salty about it. i got so many comments saying "dude, why didn't you just tell him the truth?" and i said "you can if you care so damn much. you could've wrestled the girl too. maybe someone else should do the hard thing today."
but they didn't. so the next day, we did an hour of half nelson drills, and i spent a decent amount of time getting thrown around the mat, and it was pleasant in exactly the way that i hated and the year after that, to the surprise of everyone but myself, i quit wrestling and joined the trivia team.
and if you want more reasons to love my mom, my grandpa joked after the match that i might have to talk to my bishop about it, and my mom told him he would be allowed to make jokes after he stood in front of a crowd of 110 people in spandex underpants while wrestling a woman that was not his wife.
he paused for almost five seconds after that. then he said: aw. hell. sorry babylon.
and i'd have preferred my apology from god, but getting it from him was pretty good too.
#whew boy this make me anxious just typing it#wrestling#middle school#the dread#i feel like i have to write some stories about my grandpa not being a dick#because he was actually an amazing grandpa#he just had a few goofs are very comedic moments#and you know if you're gonna have a goof making it comedic is a virtue in itself#he was there for me more than a lot of my classmates dads were#and i dont want that undervalued#yeah#babylon-lore
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Last summer I was on a very expedited acid come up at a music festival and my entirely unaware mother thousands of miles away was at costco and texted me incredulous at how they already had halloween stuff out for sale in the summer but all I saw was a message preview of a giant 10 foot tall skeleton with glowing eyes and "can u believe it??"
#at this very specific particular moment no i cannot!!#i told her about it after and she was like ohh you know you WERE really quiet that day i wondered why you didnt text back#girl i was FIGHTING FOR MY LIFE ON THE ASTRAL PLANE#WITH A 10 FOOT SKELETON
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Let the poor man rest.
#also no he doesn't want to experience life as a normal person. no he wouldn't sacrifice his powers to live again.#he LOVED being powerful. he was very proud of his powers. he was at the top of the world. what he disliked was being so lonely at the top.#which having reunited with Geto now he is not.#and he wanted to keep the next generation safe due to his past regrets and teach a generation of kids to be at the top together.#and he wanted to get rid of the corrupt higher-ups and reform the Jujutsu society.#and he did all of that. Yuta and Yuuji are both alive and safe and the kids are all reunited with each other stronger than ever#and the higher-ups are d**d.#Gojo obviously wouldn't hate to keep living. he clearly didn't expect to lose and die. but as he himself confirmed#he died doing what he loved. he went out the way he wanted. he went out with a bang. he had the best fight of his life and gave it his all.#as he said 'he had fun'. he said it would have been embarrassing if he died of old age or sickness.#and now that he's gone he's happy with his friends and especially Geto. he found peace.#He said it himself 'Now i'm wishing that it's not just a dream'.#also for those of you who say that Geto & Gojo wouldn't be together because one would go to hell and one to heaven... no. just no.#first of all. Gojo did a mass m*r*** before his death#second of all. they're Buddhists. they don't have heaven and hell. don't bring Abrahamic religions into everything.#and you'd be surprised by the excuses the Abrahamic religions find to not let people in heaven.#probably Gojo wouldn't go to heaven even if he didn't kill the higher-ups due to...idk... occasionaly doing pranks or sth.#but Gege apparently created a whole other afterlife of his own. and Toji Geto Gojo Nanami and everyone were all gathered there together.#you SAW that. so stop.#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#gojo satoru#satoru gojo#jjk gojo#gege akutami#my two cents#satosugu
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Deer season is upon us.
1.) Wear your seatbelt.
2.) If your choice is swerve at high speed or hit the deer you plow Bambis mom like you’re an IT specialist with a secret Twitter account and it’s anthrocon weekend.
Deer are softer than trees. Deer are softer than rolling your car 8 times.
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Love the contrast between the Americans’ “Apollo” and the Soviets’ “Sputnik.” You got the Americans naming their rocket after a Greek god trying to communicate the grandness and importance of this rocket. And you got the Soviets naming their rocket “fellow traveler.” Like a friend you go on an adventure with together. This rocket is our little friend lol
#i think its cute#they took the mars rover approach#humanizing the space craft making it cute making us (me) project emotions onto it#the soviets also used imagery of laika in propaganda a lot#which is pretty fucked up imo#but if i grew up in the soviet union that shit wouldve definetly worked on me lmao#the narrative of a heroic little dog going to space and being honored by the whole country#as cruely wrong as it is its very appealing#the soviets knew what they were doing man they didnt reveal how laika really died until like. the 2000s#bc they knew people really cared about that dog#they liked the narrative around her
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I was meeting a client at a famous museum’s lounge for lunch (fancy, I know) and had an hour to kill afterwards so I joined the first random docent tour I could find. The woman who took us around was a great-grandmother from the Bronx “back when that was nothing to brag about” and she was doing a talk on alternative mediums within art.
What I thought that meant: telling us about unique sculpture materials and paint mixtures.
What that actually meant: an 84yo woman gingerly holding a beautifully beaded and embroidered dress (apparently from Ukraine and at least 200 years old) and, with tears in her eyes, showing how each individual thread was spun by hand and weaved into place on a cottage floor loom, with bright blue silk embroidery thread and hand-blown beads intricately piercing the work of other labor for days upon days, as the labor of a dozen talented people came together to make something so beautiful for a village girl’s wedding day.
What it also meant: in 1948, a young girl lived in a cramped tenement-like third floor apartment in Manhattan, with a father who had just joined them after not having been allowed to escape through Poland with his pregnant wife nine years earlier. She sits in her father’s lap and watches with wide, quiet eyes as her mother’s deft hands fly across fabric with bright blue silk thread (echoing hands from over a century years earlier). Thread that her mother had salvaged from white embroidery scraps at the tailor’s shop where she worked and spent the last few days carefully dying in the kitchen sink and drying on the roof.
The dress is in the traditional Hungarian fashion and is folded across her mother’s lap: her mother doesn’t had a pattern, but she doesn’t need one to make her daughter’s dress for the fifth grade dance. The dress would end up differing significantly from the pure white, petticoated first communion dresses worn by her daughter’s majority-Catholic classmates, but the young girl would love it all the more for its uniqueness and bright blue thread.
And now, that same young girl (and maybe also the villager from 19th century Ukraine) stands in front of us, trying not to clutch the old fabric too hard as her voice shakes with the emotion of all the love and humanity that is poured into the labor of art. The village girl and the girl in the Bronx were very different people: different centuries, different religions, different ages, and different continents. But the love in the stitches and beads on their dresses was the same. And she tells us that when we look at the labor of art, we don’t just see the work to create that piece - we see the labor of our own creations and the creations of others for us, and the value in something so seemingly frivolous.
But, maybe more importantly, she says that we only admire this piece in a museum because it happened to survive the love of the wearer and those who owned it afterwards, but there have been quite literally billions of small, quiet works of art in billions of small, quiet homes all over the world, for millennia. That your grandmother’s quilt is used as a picnic blanket just as Van Gogh’s works hung in his poor friends’ hallways. That your father’s hand-painted model plane sets are displayed in your parents’ livingroom as Grecian vases are displayed in museums. That your older sister’s engineering drawings in a steady, fine-lined hand are akin to Da Vinci’s scribbles of flying machines.
I don’t think there’s any dramatic conclusions to be drawn from these thoughts - they’ve been echoed by thousands of other people across the centuries. However, if you ever feel bad for spending all of your time sewing, knitting, drawing, building lego sets, or whatever else - especially if you feel like you have to somehow monetize or show off your work online to justify your labor - please know that there’s an 84yo museum docent in the Bronx who would cry simply at the thought of you spending so much effort to quietly create something that’s beautiful to you.
#shut up e#long post#Saturday thoughts#this has been in my drafts for a week haha#also this is the heart of why AI art feels so wrong#forget the discussion of copyright and theft etc - even if models were only trained on public domain they would still feel very wrong#because they’re not art. art is the labor of creation#even commercial art and art commissioned by the popes and kings of history: there is humanity in the labor of it#unrelated: I did not know living in the Bronx was now something to brag about. How the fuck do y’all New Yorkers afford this city???
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There's some dude (derogatory) on FB who is PISSED people are pricing their farm fresh eggs at $2 and $3 a dozen instead of $4+, saying it's "disrespectful" and "undignified" and "I'm trying to feed my kids" like Sir, you are on a Facebook group page bitching about your neighbors egg prices because your pet chickens aren't earning you a living wage and you think it's your neighbors' fault, you do not have a leg to stand on here wrt dignity.
Also half the answers are like "I give them to friends and family free" or "I donate them to food banks" or "I'm making them affordable to folks who might not otherwise be able to get them now that they're so expensive in the store" and "if you think you're going to turn a profit keeping backyard chickens you have been wildly misled" and so on, and so forth, and I'm so living for it.
and I can tell you right now, he did NOT like my answer of "if you're trying to feed your kids, I hear eggs are edible."
#chickens#like buddy you are never going to actually make a profit#and if by some miracle you do#it's going to be VERY SMALL#Considering the money you put into building or buying a coop#plus feed and bedding and equipment (waterers feeders perches etc) costs#egg cartons and enrichment and gas to go get the feed#the cost you (personally) probably put into building the egg stand you mentioned#a 50lbs bag of feed will feed 12 adult chickens for 8 days#12 chickens generally lay 6-12 eggs per day#usually less in the fall and may even stop in winter#a 50lb bag of feed is usually $12-15#and you wasted the first 6 months going eggless until they were old enough to lay#and that doesn't factor in oyster shell or anything else you may need to do for them#like worming or treating for coccidia or anything#and doesn't take into account your time#like asjh;dsfkgdh you really thought you were gonna make a buck doing this???#wank for ts
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so. um. the good news is we found your boyfriend. the bad news is that, well, we sort of…dug him up…in the middle of a car park. in leicester (buckley et al. 2013). leicester, yeah. sorry. they demolished the friary he was hastily interred in when henry viii dissolved all the monasteries. you know how it is. and as it turns out, well, shakespeare was…sort of right about him. scoliosis, yeah, sorry (appleby et al. 2014). if it makes you feel any better we analysed his bones and it turns out he had a pretty high-protein diet before he died (lamb et al. 2014). and he drank so much wine that it changed their chemical composition, which we didn't know could actually happen before we analysed him (lamb et al. 2014), so he was having a good time, at least.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Appleby, J., Mitchell, P.D., Robinson, C., Brough, A., Rutty, G., and Morgan, B. (2014). The scoliosis of Richard III, last Plantagenet King of England: diagnosis and clinical significance. Lancet 383, 1944.
Buckley, R., Morris, M., Appleby, J., King, T., O’Sullivan, D., and Foxhall, L. (2013). ‘The king in the car park’: new light on the death and burial of Richard III in the Grey Friars church, Leicester, in 1485. Antiquity 87, pp. 519-538.
Lamb, A.L., Evans, J.E., Buckley, R., and Appleby, J. (2014). Multi-isotope analysis demonstrates significant lifestyle changes in King Richard III. Journal of Archaeological Science 50, pp. 559-565.
#found this in my drafts thought it was still funny#archposting#richard III#archaeology#alevelposting#<- contains tudors memes#i've actually met one of the cited authors here they were very cool. we weren't talking about riii though (iron age greece)
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My favourite underrated thing about Louis de Point du Lac is that he truly is the least curious vampire to ever be made and he does not give fuck about vampires despite being one.
Its Claudia who goes to libraries, reads the folklore, tries to learn as much as she can and pushes Lestat for answers about who made him and where the others are. Claudia says Vampire Pride and Louis says hmmm Vampire Tolerance.
And Louis...truly does not care about vampire history,law, culture. He's never even thought to ask. There are vampire laws?...ok...Lestat never cared about them and he's not going to either, lol. He's broken a few and he will continue to do so. Oh you have a coven? he's not gonna join it, he's gonna do his own thing. but good for you good for you.
the 500+ year old Coven Leader, he's gonna call Louis, Maitre, actually.
He has fire powers? thats kinda cool. he'll learn that but only cause it lets him vent his feelings about Lestat.
Lestat and Armand say the name of the vampire queen in front of him and Lestat straight up says, "Louis has no idea who that is" and do you think Louis cares, outside of the fact that for some reason it means he can't kill Lestat? No! Do you think in the 77 years he's been with Armand he ever took 5 minutes to ask a follow up question? No!
Do you think he will care about Akasha in season 3? Doubt it! Outside of her obsession with Lestat, who is the only person left on the planet he seems to be able to filter Caring About This Shit through
He blatantly breaks the 3rd law and publishes a book about being a vampire and when the other vampires get pissed not only does he not apologise he literally sends them his location and says 'you wanna fight? lmao don't miss'
I love him. Daniel Molloy is gonna need to bring his A game because Louis will not be solving a single mystery next season, nor would it even occur to him to try.
#louis de pointe du lac#lestat de lioncourt#armand#daniel molloy#akasha#iwtv spoilers#iwtv season 3 spec#interview with the vampire#iwtv#claudia iwtv#do you think it has occured to him to follow up on why Real Rashid and Talamasca were in his house? no hes redecorating!#and taking back his ex#and this is not weak or bad writing btw Louis cares about 2 maybe 3 people and does not particularly Like being a vampire#this is all very In Character its just also so funny in a protagonist#1k#5k#10k
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all four of my sonic 3 movie trailer redraws in one spot 🫡
#sonic movie 3#sonic the hedgehog#shadow the hedgehog#sth#sonic fanart#sonic the hedgehog fanart#sonic art#sth fanart#sth fandom#sonic fandom#shadow the hedgehog fanart#sonic movie#sonic movie trailer#sonic movie fanart#genuinely thank you to everyone for all the support on these they were such a joy to make#I think the last one suffered a bit just from the gap between uploads#since I had to take a break for the weekend and travel#but I do not regret the wait I think the drawing turned out better because of it#I will be back with better shit very soon promise 🙏#art#digital art#illustration#art of crane#fanart
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✦ Freshly ordained ✦
#a packless dog will happily accept his collar or something like that#own art#own characters#CanisAlbus#art#artists on tumblr#Machete#anthro#sighthound#dogs#canine#animals#maybe you might benefit from a little bit of context in this case#Machete becomes a priest at around 20 or so#he has trained all his life for this goal#he has worked himself to the bone and sacrificed so much#because he believes it would make him respectable and worthy and give his life a purpose and meaning#he gets his very first cassock from the tailor's and it immediately fits like a second skin#for the first time ever he feels like something he wears actually makes him look kind of nice#the hard part is over it'll be smooth sailing from here on out#there's a period in Vasco's and Machete's lives where they were apart for almost a decad#they met in their late teens when they were both studying in the same university in Venice#became friends and then lovers#but had to separate when Machete graduated and Vasco dropped out#Machete was ordained as intended and Vasco followed his father into politics#they meet again unexpectedly in their early 30's thanks to their similar jobs#Machete had became a cardinal secretary of state and Vasco was a Florentine diplomat#this takes place shortly after he had lost contact with Vasco and before he reconnects with him again
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Rowling isn't denying holocaust. She just pointed out that burning of transgender health books is a lie as that form of cosmetic surgery didn't exist. But of course you knew that already, didn't you?
I was thinking I'd probably see one of you! You're wrong :) Let's review the history a bit, shall we?
In this case, what we're talking about is the Institut für Sexualwissenschaft, or in English, The Institute of Sexology. This Institute was founded and headed by a gay Jewish sexologist named Magnus Hirschfeld. It was founded in July of 1919 as the first sexology research clinic in the world, and was run as a private, non-profit clinic. Hirschfeld and the researchers who worked there would give out consultations, medical advice, and even treatments for free to their poorer clientele, as well as give thousands of lectures and build a unique library full of books on gender, sexuality, and eroticism. Of course, being a gay man, Hirschfeld focused a lot on the gay community and proving that homosexuality was natural and could not be "cured".
Hirschfeld was unique in his time because he believed that nobody's gender was either one or the other. Rather, he contended that everyone is a mixture of both male and female, with every individual having their own unique mix of traits.
This leads into the Institute's work with transgender patients. Hirschfeld was actually the one to coin the term "transsexual" in 1923, though this word didn't become popular phrasing until 30 years later when Harry Benjamin began expanding his research (I'll just be shortening it to trans for this brief overview.) For the Institute, their revolutionary work with gay men eventually began to attract other members of the LGBTA+, including of course trans people.
Contrary to what Anon says, sex reassignment surgery was first tested in 1912. It'd already being used on humans throughout Europe during the 1920's by the time a doctor at the Institute named Ludwig Levy-Lenz began performing it on patients in 1931. Hirschfeld was at first opposed, but he came around quickly because it lowered the rate of suicide among their trans patients. Not only was reassignment performed at the Institute, but both facial feminization and facial masculization surgery were also done.
The Institute employed some of these patients, gave them therapy to help with other issues, even gave some of the mentioned surgeries for free to this who could not afford it! They spoke out on their behalf to the public, even getting Berlin police to help them create "transvestite passes" to allow people to dress however they wanted without the threat of being arrested. They worked together to fight the law, including trying to strike down Paragraph 175, which made it illegal to be homosexual. The picture below is from their holiday party, Magnus Hirschfeld being the gentleman on the right with the fabulous mustache. Many of the other people in this photo are transgender.
[Image ID: A black and white photo of a group of people. Some are smiling at the camera, others have serious expressions. Either way, they all seem to be happy. On the right side, an older gentleman in glasses- Magnus Hirschfeld- is sitting. He has short hair and a bushy mustache. He is resting one hand on the shoulder of the person in front of him. His other hand is being held by a person to his left. Another person to his right is holding his shoulder.]
There was always push back against the Institute, especially from conservatives who saw all of this as a bad thing. But conservatism can't stop progress without destroying it. They weren't willing to go that far for a good while. It all ended in March of 1933, when a new Chancellor was elected. The Nazis did not like homosexuals for several reasons. Chief among them, we break the boundaries of "normal" society. Shortly after the election, on May 6th, the book burnings began. The Jewish, gay, and obviously liberal Magnus Hirschfeld and his library of boundary-breaking literature was one of the very first targets. Thankfully, Hirschfeld was spared by virtue of being in Paris at the time (he would die in 1935, before the Nazis were able to invade France). His library wasn't so lucky.
This famous picture of the book burnings was taken after the Institute of Sexology had been raided. That's their books. Literature on so much about sexuality, eroticism, and gender, yes including their new work on trans people. This is the trans community's Alexandria. We're incredibly lucky that enough of it survived for Harry Benjamin and everyone who came after him was able to build on the Institute's work.
[Image ID: A black and white photo of the May Nazi book burning of the Institute of Sexology's library. A soldier, back facing the camera, is throwing a stack of books into the fire. In the background of the right side, a crowd is watching.]
As the Holocaust went on, the homosexuals of Germany became a targeted group. This did include transgender people, no matter what you say. To deny this reality is Holocaust denial. JK Rowling and everyone else who tries to pretend like this isn't reality is participating in that evil. You're agreeing with the Nazis.
But of course, you knew that already, didn't you?
Edit: Added image IDs. I apologize to those using screen readers for forgetting them. Please reblog this version instead.
#transgender#trans history#transsexual#transphobia#Magnus Hirschfeld#holocaust#holocaust denial#book burning#j.k. rowling#jk rowling#just in case you missed what i mean by all this: go fuck yourself anon :)#trans people have always existed#and we will always exist#if you really wanna pick a fight with me over well-documented history then you better bring in some sources to back your shit#queer history#queer#lgbt+#lgbta+#lgbt#lgbt history#edit: i finally got around to those damn image IDs. i am so very sorry for totally forgetting that's my bimbo moment of the month#also real quick i thought about adding an image of the actual building but the only one i can find has a Nazi parade in front of it#it was taken the day of the book burning raid and honestly if i were to include it then i'd add it to the first few paragraphs#and i think the story's better told when you uphold the hope Magnus Hirschfeld and all the researchers he worked with had#also keeps being brought up: yes Hirschfeld was a eugenicist. it was a popular belief set that was only discredited after WW2#Hirschfeld died in 1935. he literally didn't live long enough to see science turn against those beliefs and practices#considering how he changed his mind on transitions i like to think he would've changed his mind on eugenics too if he'd lived
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I'm curious. what job would you do if money was no object (you just automatically had an income you could live comfortably on)? including work like volunteering, studying etc. please share in the tags :)
#under this premise part time work is valid too!#personally i think i'd probably study. maybe do another masters maybe part time across two years this time#if i were to do a job job i think i'd try out working in a library (ideally an academic library). which would technically be more studying#since i'd need to get a library qualification first#i'm just very curious what people would choose if it was purely a choice of what appeals to you over the practicality/necessity#talking
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