#and it also hammers home that 'white' is a bullshit categorization of people because of how often the fucking criteria changes

[chiosavince]

One important question to ask that brings down Fascist/Racist narratives is "Who gets to be white?".

I personally found myself asking that question when reading the poison they spew online, cause the deeper you go down the Fascist rabbit hole, the fewer and fewer people actually pass as acceptable in their in-group. Facsists/Racists may say that Italians/Hispanics/Portuguese/etc get to be white, but in reality this is just rhetoric to appear as inclusive as possible in order to gain allies to their cause.

As soon as they feel like they're in a position of strength to do so, it's last hired first fired for people they claim to be accepting of. If they had their way, even Russians/Poles/Ukrainians wouldn't be considered white, as it was Nazi Germany's policy to rank them as subhuman and have them slated for extermination/enslavement.

The more powerful Fascist circles become, the more exclusive the in-group gets, and that should be known to all who hear from these groups that actually *insert ethnic group here* gets to be white now, because they absolutely will not be once they consolidate power. They are not your ally/friend and they will not help/empower you despite all their promises to do so, cause as soon as they are in a position to, they will kill you.

I want you to remember:

The fascists hate you too and they just will pretend otherwise until after they've killed the rest of us, before they turn on you.

[tangledboysandfracturedgirls]

Part III: 2/21/17

“Oh thank God, you brought vodka." Whitney said, anxiously grabbing the handle from Steffi's hand. “Fucking Todd only got beer. Like, hello?, you know I don't drink beer. Talk about liquid calories."

Todd lived halfway to Josh's, so his house was the natural choice for the party pregame. Steffi and I had come alone, as Eddie, Chopper, and Aaron were meeting at Brad's beforehand.

“I hope vodka club is alright with you girls. Todd's parents have like no mixers." Whitney said, expertly mixing our drinks (heavy on the vodka, light on the club).

“That's fine." Steffi answered for both of us.

“Tell me about Taylor! Todd's in the shower so we can have some girl talk." Whitney explained, reading Steffi's apprehension.

“There's not much to tell. He came over last night after the concert and then spent the night. We didn't have sex though." Steffi explained.

“What? Why not?!" Whitney asked, incredulous.

“We’re taking it slow I guess. I mean I totally would have last night, but he didn't want to have sex with me for the first time with both of us drunk.”

“What? God drunk sex is the best kind of sex. Todd loves it when I get all liquored up and horny." Whitney overshared. “And what about you Marge? Anything new with Aaron?" She pried.

“Not really." While I didn't mind sharing the details of my sex life with Steffi, I was reluctant to share with Whitney. She might be Steffi's friend, but I had recently met her, and felt certain things to be earned with friendship (sex details being one of them).

“Liar." Steffi said, clearly wanting to shift the attention to me. “She stayed at his place last night.”

“Ooo." Whitney cooed. “You slut! I love it." Apparently Whitney fell into the esteemed category of girls that use “slut” as a term of endearment (God save me).

“It's just whatever. We had fun together." I explained, feeling the need to defend myself from the whole “slut” labeling.

“Good for you!  If it weren't for Todd, I would have fucked him myself. He's got that sensitive, damaged boy sexiness." Whitney jumped to the correct assumption that Aaron and I had sex.

“He is sensitive alright." Based on Eddie's account of Aaron's reaction to me sneaking out, I had to agree.

“I totally called that!" Whitney said, remembering her prediction at Taylor's party. “Is he coming tonight?" She paused and laughed (I assumed at the double meaning of coming).

“Yeah. They're all at Brad's." I explained.

“Let's play a game or something." Steffi said, sipping her drink.

“Perfect! We can play a 'Real Housewives' drinking game!" Whitney exclaimed, turning on the television. “Okay. It's the Main Line one. Totes not my fav, but it will have to do" (as if I could tell the difference between the various “Real Housewives” franchises). I should have known Whitney would be the type of girl who a. played drinking games to TV shows, and b. watched “Real Housewives.”

øøø

A full episode later, we were relatively hammered. Drinking every time a “character” says “like” is the recipe for drunkenness. I felt good, not shit-faced, but a good tipsy. I didn't want to repeat what had happened at Taylor's, so I had switched to water (one episode was enough for me).

Todd had joined the game and as he was drinking beer, became the voice of reason. “Okay we need to go now." He said, standing up and turning off the TV right after the cold open.

“Come on Todd. One more episode!" Whitney said, reaching across Todd for the remote.

“No. Seriously. I told Josh we were leaving 15 minutes ago." Todd said.

“Boo." Whitney pouted at Todd.

“Let's go!" Steffi shouted, rising from the sofa and stumbling slightly.

“Fine. But only because I am a good friend and girlfriend." Whitney said.

Armed with go-drinks, we went outside, located our bikes, and pedaled to Josh's (I followed Steffi, who seemed to have become giddy at the prospect of seeing Josh at the party).

Our bike ride was altogether uneventful, save for Whitney almost colliding with Todd while attempting to not spill her drink on her precious white shorts (hello, don't wear them if you're so afraid of spilling on them).

We arrived at Josh's house, not unlike Whitney's in grandeur. I could immediately tell that his family would be categorized as “nouveau riche,” on Kitty's scale of wealth. Underneath the gargantuan wrap around deck were the ubiquitous (as I had begun to learn) bikes that accompanied any Island party.

“We can just park by the beach entrance, there should be room there." Todd said, ushering us to the path through the dunes. He was right, so we didn't even bother locking our bikes (as they were the only ones between the dunes).

“Okay so don't say anything about how Taylor and I are hooking up. I don't want to be rude." Steffi reminded us as we headed inside via the deck (Taylor was pregaming with the guys at Brad's house).

“Fine, but you're playing with fire." I warned, as it was obvious that Steffi still wanted Josh to want her (but also wanted Taylor to want her).

We approached the sliding glass door on the deck (the party was already spilling out of the house). A super preppy, tanned, toned guy stood by the door. I knew he had to be Josh, based on Steffi's extensive collection of couple photos that had adorned our dorm room pre-breakup.

“Steffi!" He exclaimed, abandoning all other tasks, and pulling her in for a hug.

“Hey." She said.

“Whitney, you look amazing as always." Josh said, hugging her. He then turned to Todd and pulled him in for a bro-hug-handshake.

“Dude, you been lifting?" Todd asked, squeezing Josh's bicep.

Josh laughed and pulled away. “Very funny." Apparently it was an inside joke.

“Josh, this is Marge, remember, my roommate?" Steffi introduced us.

“Hi.” I said, unsure of the proper etiquette when meeting your roommate's ex-boyfriend with whom she might want to rekindle things.

“It's nice to finally meet you Marge. I feel like I've heard so much about you, I already know you." He said, as he pulled me in for a hug. He clearly felt our relationship was on the hugging level.

“You too." I didn't know how to respond.

“Alright, so there's a keg in the outside shower, I'm sure you remember where that is, Steffi." Josh said with a knowing glance. “I'll see you guys around." He sauntered back into the house, leaving us to find the keg.

“What was that about?" I asked Steffi as soon as Josh was out of earshot.

“We had a standing shower date on Friday nights when he got off work. It was our thing. We would do a shower, drink, sex combination." She explained.

“Oh." That sounded like fun. Especially now that I had met Josh. In all of Steffi's recollections and stories he seemed slightly obnoxious, but meeting him, he somehow pulled it off in the most enigmatic of ways (not to say he wasn't obnoxious).

We headed out back to the shower, found clusters of people drinking and talking. Todd had abandoned us for his lifeguard friends, about which, predictably, Whitney had something to say.

“Thank God you girls are here. I could not stand being Todd's girlfriend at another party. As much as I like all of the other guards, they get boring and do the same bullshit every night. Pregame and then head to a house party or the bar where they just hang out with themselves anyways. It's like, what's the point of even going out?" Whitney complained. She did have a good point. In my short time on the Island, I had even noticed that the routine varied little.

“I think we'll have to settle for beer." Steffi said, as we located the keg and she began filling up cups for us. “I'm sure there's alcohol somewhere though." She added.

“Beer's fine.” I said, willing the hard liquor to appear.

Whitney seemed to be less enthusiastic about the whole beer situation. “I'm not drinking beer. Don't Josh's parents have a liquor cabinet or something?" She asked Steffi.

“You're terrible." Steffi said, having the wherewithal and social grace to realize the inappropriateness of breaking into the host's liquor cache.

“Ugh. Fine. I'm going to find Todd. I guarantee you Brett brought Rum." She said, leaving Steffi and I at the keg.

“Who's Brett?" I asked Steffi.

“Another guard. He has a gluten problem, so brings his own alcohol everywhere.”

“What a drag." While I appreciated a good BYOB, I would hate having to BYOB everywhere.

Steffi handed me a cup of beer. “Taylor texted me, they're on their way and heavily intoxicated. Chopper talked them into doing a power hour or something. He wasn't very clear.”

I laughed. “Chopper totally seems like the power hour type." There certainly was a type associated with power hours, the kind of people who need to be told to drink and typically drank to get drunk. I preferred to drink at my own pace, though I could not turn down a rousing game of flip cup.

“Okay, let's mingle." Steffi said.

We headed back into the mass of the party, which wasn't all that crowded or exciting, to be honest. It seemed that the majority of partygoers had missed the “pregame before you come” memo, and the atmosphere tilted towards awkward with distinct groups clustered in sections of the house. No one was drunk enough to cross social barriers (and I was pretty sure everyone already knew each other and had the baggage associated with knowing each other since a young age).

Steffi gave me the run down of some partygoers, it seemed she knew most everybody in attendance.

“Well it is a small island." She explained. “And we've been doing this with the same people for the past 4 years.”

I quickly did the math in my head. “You've been partying like this since 15?”

“Pretty much. I mean people can handle their alcohol now, but other than that it's been the same shit every summer.”

“That's crazy." I said. Where were their parents? Kitty had been in helicopter mode until I went to college, and even then she needed constant updates about what I was doing and with whom. It surprised me that she had allowed me to spend the summer away from her prying eyes.

“Most of our parents work at home during the week and are only here on the weekends, so everyone takes full advantage of their well stocked liquor cabinets. And growing up, Eddie always had a fake and was willing to supply parties with booze. Speaking of Eddie..” She glanced towards the door as Eddie, Chopper, Taylor, and Aaron arrived at the party.