#black-male-lives-matter

[snowbunnyslutariel-02]

100% FACT All white girls are getting the black cock in 2024. White boys can't compete anymore as interracial dating is becoming popular. Just watch us out in public and you will see more of us white girls and even married white wives hanging on BLACK Alpha men. BLACK men are the only true Alpha’s and we just can’t resist them. Pretty soon the white race will be bred out!!!

[soxsick]

[whereserpentswalk]

It’s fascinating that you think trans people’s names come to them like wands in Harry Potter, you can’t just culturally appropriate bc you’re trans

Ok, this is about comments I made like a year ago on a comedy bit. While I stand by my feelings that the bit was bad and transphobic, my reasons why are a lot diffrent.

When I first wrote the comments my arguments were very thermian. I treated the story the comic was telling as if it was real and objective. Which feels right for most people, because stand up comedy is often presented like conversation, where we do treat stories like that as real things. But that's not how comedy works, comedians don't tell stories the way we do in conversation, they're creatives, the stories they tell are basically fictional, the art form might look like real conversations but it's not.

Comedians want to make you laugh, and sometimes want to send a message or make you think about things in a new way, but they have no reason to want to portray events accurately. They might be basing some things off of real experiences, but that's true for everyone, Tolkien might have chosen to explore his experience in world war one in lord of things, that doesn't mean we have to argue about orcs as if they're real entities when we're talking about if those books were racist.

So let's actually look at the skit, and analyze its outlook on trans people keeping in mind its a story that a cis man is telling, and not actual events: So the summery of the skit is that a white trans man comes out to his to his family, and he picked a name you'd expect a black person to have. He has older black relatives (who are implied to fully accept him, which would make him possibly the only trans person on earth with a fully accepting family) who refuse to use this name, and instead call him "the boy". The sketch ends with the comedian saying he should pick a name like Kevin, because even if he's trans he's not interesting (keep your thoughts on that last one).

Now, ignoring how this would play out in real life, what does this as a peice of fiction say about trans people:

First off: it's creating a plausible but unlikely situation where the woke thing to do is to not respect a trans person's identity. A lot of political humor exists to call ideas into question with hypotheticals, and the idea being questioned here is the idea that trans people's identities deserve respect.

Second off: it's creating a situation where a trans person is entitled and arogent for wanting his identity respected. In the fiction this trans person is that. But it's promoting the idea that they are in real life. Transphobes will show you a lot of spooky examples of trans identities that are unreasonable to respect, but that's not useally ever what it's like in real life. (An otherkin robotgirl isn't going to demand you communicate with her through beeps and boops, she probably just wants you not to laugh at her.)

Third off: it's pitting minorities agaisnt eachother. Conservatives love this, but it's super common when people try to convince progressives to a specific group from their advocacy. It shows us a world where trans rights and poc rights are at odds with eachother, in the real world they aren't, in the real world they're part of one larger struggle and diminishing one is diminishing the other. A lot of people do this with different identities, lgb types do it with gayness, terfs do it with womanhood, class reductionists do it with class, trscum do it between trans people. But it doesn't help one oppressed group when you shit on a diffrent oppressed group in their name. It's white conservatives who love it the most when trans people and poc at pit agaisnt eachother, and it's trans poc who suffer the most.

Fourth off: it's feeds into a very old myth amoung queerphobic progressives, which is the idea that queer people are privileged people looking to pose as the marginalized to get special rights. This is a myth we really have to get over, because its been internalized by a lot of people, and we get these hunts for fake minorities. This is why the "you're not interesting" line sticks out to me. Most trans people don't give themselves appropriative names, but trans people as a group constantly get accused of trying to steal other people's struggles. This is a myth that preys on the fact that white skined white colar queer people are more visible, and its one that is based on treating that disparity in visibility as a fact. We have to cut this out, nobody fakes minority status to get privileges because minorities aren't privileged. It's not true for queer people, even the queer people other queer people hate like bi people and ace people. It's not true about mentally ill and ND people, or converts to non Christian religions, or East Asian people, or anyone who gets accused of this. Stop it dearly.

Fifth off: this entire sketch is based in the idea that families can accept their trans kids, but only conditionally, only if they prove themselves to be doing it for the right reasons, and they please their family's whims. This is a transphobic idea, it's a transphobic idea most neolibs hold. Comedy bits are a lot like story books (no shade at either) where a problem is presented at the beginning, and a solution at the end, that the audience is expected to take for their own problems. And the solution here is a form of transphobia, the idea that trans people aren't owned acceptance, they need to earn it. I've seen a lot of trans people tormented by their families over that idea. And when a person of color goes and stage and wraps that idea in racial justice, it's young trans poc who get hurt by it the most.

Sixth off: not a huge point, but I feel like a cis black man, of all cis people, should be the most likely to understand that calling a trans man a boy is dehumanizing and insulting. I guess this goes to show he's not interested in thinking about how trans people's struggles are like his, he stands alongside a lot of marginalized trans people there.

Finally I kind of don't know how to end this. This is long. Really long. I don't know whose going to read this, because its a lot. Hopefully you got a bit of media literacy from reading all of this. Early on in my tumblr career, when I had just moved from Brooklyn to Manhattan, I had read an essay by @wifelinkmtg about a concept called the ditch. The idea was we often argue about media wrong, talking about things in hyper literal cannon obsessed terms, and that was the ditch, the ditch we dig for ourselves when we ignore things like themes and audience experiences. Hopefully this series of words dug less of a ditch than my words did a year ago. Sorry I don't have the actual sketch on hand. Mabye I'm wrong, but if someone wants to prove me wrong I'd rather they do it outside of a ditch. Mabye the ask wasn't even about that post. Mabye I'm tired. Maybe you should be tired too.

Sorry for the long post. Media literacy matters. Black trans lives matter. Goodbye, enjoy your night well.

[fleetingcalypso]

I am very sorry to bother you, but a very sweet prompt fleeted into my mind as I prepared myself to come out to my parents, and I'd thought I'd share it in the sheer hope you'd read it, enjoy the thought and perhaps write something based on it, if you're comfortable.

Just imagine, you're very close to Sirius Black (you can choose to which degree, platonically, romantically, interested but not together yet, preferably the last because hehe). You've known for a while you were transgender (FtM) but never had the strength to come out, fearing rejection and alienation from the friend group. Just a sweet little comfort fic because I'm anxious as fuck.

≋ What you're doing is extremely brave, I'm so very proud of you. I wish you the best, friend. Know that whatever goes down, you'll never be judged or rejected here. I'll pray your coming out will be met with love and affection.

≋ Sirius Black x TransMasc!Reader ≋

≋ Word Count: 2285 words.

≋TW: Dysphoria, Misgendering (not done by Sirius)

Hogwarts seemed intimidating, more than anything. Eleven year old me, sitting in that train, chewing my nails and staring out at the moving scenery, had not the slightest idea that finding friends would be as easy as breathing. At least it is when four troublemakers decide to adopt you into their friend group, barely a week after classes started.

‘The marauders’ they’d call themselves, not so slowly becoming every professor’s nightmare.

They each had something that made them so intriguing. The four of them were attached at the hip, and with me being dragged into their pranks and escapades things only got more entertaining. Even as my house was far away from the castle we studied at, every day I got to spend with them made it feel like I was home, with their jokes and their being able to light up a dull moment with only a couple of words. James, Sirius, Remus and Peter welcomed me in, as one of them.

In the midst of my lowest moments I wondered, would they still accept me if I let my walls down? I sprinkled seeds of the truth here and there: I cut my hair short, I opted for pants instead of the usual skirt, I was at my happiest during winter - when finally I could show off the baggiest of sweaters to conceal the appendages on my chest. It’s not purely a physical discomfort, though. It’s in the little things, small seemingly meaningless moments that no one appears to notice but me. 

People perceive me differently based on how I move even the tiniest of muscles, it is painfully obvious. The boys have never done it, not once, they’ve always treated me as one of them. Never has one of them implied me being weaker, more delicate or called me ‘sweetheart’ in that obnoxious way lots of people do when they’re trying to put me back in my place.

 My head constantly feels underwater with the knowledge that if I were to sit wrong I’d be labeled as a girl, if I walk in a specific way it’ll put attention on my hips, even just standing, unmoving, gives me anxiety. The most insignificant of movements could shoot down the image of me that I want people to see whenever they lay eyes on me.

I feared the worst each time I let my mind tug me into a daydream. Deep down I knew, they’d never turn their back on a friend, but fear nipped at my heels every day. Not only was I hiding who I was from them, but I was lying to their faces about it as well. What hurt me the most, though, was not being able to admit my identity to Sirius.

Sirius Orion Black, he’s been the one that made sure I felt safe around him and the lads. More than once I caught myself being entranced by his words as he let the rest of us know what a nightmare his family life was. He was the total opposite of what his mother wanted him to be, yet that didn’t stop him from being his pure unfiltered self, if anything he enhanced each trait she found disgusting. Sirius wasn’t scared to be his true self, even if it meant going against his blood.

It sparked something in me. My heart has been his, for a long time now.

Sirius, with his raven locks, smooth skin and ever present smirk on his face is the one and only subject of all my dreams. He constantly looks as though he knows everyone’s secrets. The thought makes my stomach twist. When I awake, with the moon still high up in the sky, I almost turn to the pillow beside me, to take a peek at him, they’re that realistic. 

At any rate, if there’s someone that I feel should be the one to know the true me, it is him. I contemplated asking all four of them to meet me, but I don’t think I could rip the bandaid that easily. I want to talk to the one who knows -somewhat- how it feels to have expectations placed on oneself, the one who knows that being someone you’re not is more painful than the Crucio curse itself. Of course our situations are oceans apart: he doesn’t deal with having the need to hide certain parts of my body, or with the numerous wailing moments caused by being born in the wrong body, but I think he'd be the first one to accept me.

I had a whole speech prepared, a letter pages and pages long that I was going to give him, so he could read it without my presence, but as I hear his footsteps approaching me, I can imagine him already. His wand resting behind his ear and tie loosened, hands comfortably and nonchalantly situated in the pockets of his jeans with his luscious hair possibly styled into a bun.

“You’ve been rather gloomy lately, mate.” His foot taps my leg, before he lowers himself to sit next to me. We’ve always enjoyed sitting in the astronomy tower together, in the short span of time between a prank or two. Here, we don’t have to worry about being something else, we’re just humans admiring the stars. In hindsight, I should have figured out he knew I’d be hiding out here, as for my ‘being gloomy’, well, I thought I’d done a good job pretending. Apparently not. It makes me wonder if he’s seen through all of my white lies.

“You know how it is, life is hard.” I turn to him, expecting a silly joke like ‘Life is hard, but I’m harder’, something stupid to cheer me up as he usually does, but said joke never makes it into reality. He’s not even smiling, his lip is caught between his teeth in a clearly troubled look, it doesn’t suit him. No trace of a bun holding his luscious hair in place, what a shame.

“Are you okay though?” He whispers, even if we are the only beating hearts in the room and the sincerity in his voice almost brings me to tears. “I mean it when I say you haven’t been yourself lately.” I haven’t fully been myself for ages, but he doesn’t know that. Of course he doesn’t. I’ve been everything but myself. Oh, how many times have I hoped I could just rip my chest apart and rid myself of this body that doesn’t belong to me, before emerging from the depth of it as the man I know I am.

My tongue is threatening me to run faster than my mind. ‘I’m a man’ I want to shout, ‘I have always been a man, from the moment I was born, and I hope you can accept me for what I am.’ It sounds so easy in my head, which is why I hate it more than anything when my throat dries up as soon as I part my lips. His gaze falls to them, but it comes back up to meet my eyes when only a sigh escapes from them.

In being faced with my hesitation he speaks again, a subtle comforting smile on his face, “Hey, I’m not holding you hostage. You don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t feel like it.” His elbow meeting my side in a gentle shove sends my heart ablaze, it is just a simple touch, not even skin on skin, yet it makes my entire body warm up.

“If one day you woke up and saw that you were trapped in a cage, what would you do?” I tentatively ask, testing the waters of the ocean I know I am going to dive in today. My question causes a corner of his lips to tilt upwards, “I’d pick the lock,” He says, as if the solution would be that easy. I foolishly hope it was.

“What if there is no lock to pick? What if you could escape it, but you’d have to face one of the biggest fears in your life in order to do so?” 

His answer, before I can even finish the last syllable, “I’d do it. If it means freedom, I’d do anything. You know it.” His hand rests on my shoulder, I can feel his thumb pressing into my muscles, more than anything I want to hug him and confess my reality with my face hidden in his neck. But I don’t. I’m tired of hiding. My life has turned into a twisted version of hide and seek, where I’m both the seeker and the one hiding. I seek a day where I won’t have to hold back anymore, a day where I’ll be able to use a masculine pronoun without expecting weird looks towards me, yet I hide away in the darkness, afraid of the future, afraid of losing everything I’ve built so far. 

I’ve built mansions, cathedrals, palaces with precarious foundations and I think the time has come to fix that. 

“What’s with all the philosophical talk today? Cages and fears and whatnot. Is it a new idea for a prank? Because if it is you need to hear one James had just a while ago-”

“I’ve been lying to you, Sirius.” I confess with the taste of bile in the back of my throat. The letter I had prepared and read so many times I’d memorized it sits deep in the pockets of my pants, I’m running on no script and no idea of where this conversation will bring us. I have no patience to hear what he might say, so I don’t even stop to breathe before I speak again.

“I’ve been lying to all of you, even to myself at times. I want to preface this by saying that I understand if this is confusing to you, or if you don’t understand where this is coming from but I am not the girl you boys befriended all those years ago. I’ve never been a girl, not once, but this doesn’t mean I’ve been faking to be your friend. I’m still the friend that helped you get out of detention, I’m still the friend that sent professors down the wrong hallway when they would ask for you mid prank preparation, I’m still the friend that would do your essays for you in exchange for part of your food at lunch. I’m still your friend, just not the friend you thought you had.” The words flow out like a river overflowing, it is only as I say the last word that I notice the tears rolling down my cheeks, “I’m not a girl,” I say again, my voice cracking in a sob, “I’m a guy.” 

The grip he had on my shoulder tightens for a moment before he lets out the loudest sigh of relief I’ve ever heard, “By Merlin’s beard, you scared me half to death there.” His other hand rests on his chest, most likely trying to relax his beating heart that, if it’s pounding half the speed of mine, then it must be fighting tooth and nail to escape his ribcage. Something halfway through another sigh and a chuckle comes from him as his head shakes, “So, you’re a bloke, huh? Is that what you’re telling me?” 

I nod, swallowing the gulp stuck in my throat, I can’t force myself to make a sound. The arm wrapping itself around my shoulder and pulling me into Sirius takes me by surprise, “You were always one of the lads, mate.” He says, grinning ear to ear, “Thank you for telling me. I can’t imagine this was easy for you…” The weight on my back does not abandon me completely, it is only the tiniest amount lighter. The first step is taken, there is no going back, little by little he’ll be able to uncover all of me. One small step at a time. Now it is no time to let him know how the only things I smelled while brewing amortentia was his cologne, butterbeer and the occasional cigarette. 

I don’t know what else to say, it feels like I just lept from a flying broom awaiting contact with the ground, but the crash never comes, my bones never break and no absurd pain breaks through me. “Thank you for still being here.” I choke out. His thumb runs over the corners of my eyes, the silver rings on his fingers graze my hot skin, “Thank you for telling me.” He repeats, dragging my body closer to his in a warm hug, “I want you to know, telling the others, that’s your choice. I won’t say a word. There’s no rush. I’ll even hold your hand while you do it.”

I melt in his arms. His last remark, as teasing as it was, is enough to pull a smile out of me. “I’ll make sure to let you know whenever I’m ready so you can wash your hands first. Who knows what you’ve touched.”

“Wow, rude much.” Sirius holds me for what feels like a lifetime. They say Hogwarts is the safest place there is, but I think I’ve found a worthy adversary to that claim. We don’t say anything, I said my piece and he listened. That’s all that was important. One day I’m going to have to tell James, Remus and Peter as well, but that can wait for now. The worst is done. 

“Do you feel a little more free now?” He murmurs in my ear, “Has that cage began to feel like something you could escape from?”

“Yes.” And I mean it when I say it. The future looks brighter than it ever has.

[thashining]

CNN’s #AndersonCooper pushed back on radio host #CharlamagneThaGod Thursday after he claimed the network doesn’t call out former President Donald Trump’s “rhetoric” enough.

“I think no network has honest conversations about Donald Trump,” Charlamagne responded. “Nobody‘s had an honest conversation about Donald Trump since 2016. I saw last night, they were talking about the double standard that exists between Donald Trump and the vice president, but it‘s always a double standard with Trump, whether it‘s Hillary, whether it‘s, you know, against Biden. Now, with Kamala you talk about him being a threat to democracy, but we don‘t treat him like one.”

[shimenchus]

it's so telling when someone says radical feminism is "white woman shit" and you bring up the fact that in many places such as africa or asia, the only feminism that prominently exists is radical feminism, and for those places it's just considered regular feminism that you get told those women live in places that aren't progressive enough for them to understand their actions properly. to say these women are too dumb to realize that their beliefs are "bad" simply because they don't align with western mainstream liberal feminism is rooted in xenophobia and racism, not to mention a lack of understanding of the struggles and violence women from these countries regularly go through, which can range anywhere from fgm to men rubbing and wiping their cum on the back of women's clothes in trains. but of course, as usual, there's no intelligent response to this so you just end up getting blocked or get rape wished on you.

[almostmyfest]

MAKE BLACK LIVES MATTER END MY WHITE PRIVILEGE DEMAND:

*REPARATIONS

*CRITICAL RACE THEORY

*POLICE ACCOUNTABILITY

*UNIVERSAL HEALTHCARE

*DEFUND THE MILITARY

*END U.S. MILITARY OCCUPATION AROUND THE WORLD

*PRISON REFORM

*ABOLISH THE DEATH PENALTY

[burningtheroots]

What's your opinion on men of color and George Floyd?

I don’t have any specific opinion on men of color. They‘re oppressed on the axis of race/ethnicity, which doesn’t change the fact that they‘re not exempt from being misogynistic and oppress women. It‘s also not a secret that many of them are extremely violent towards women of color although they experience the same racism on top of misogyny, and towards women in general, although most people don’t dare to say it out loud.

George Floyd is a victim of racist police violence, and what was done to him is definitely a tragedy and big injustice. The public outcry is justified, for sure. No one should be discriminated, abused or get murdered for their skin colour.

As a person, however, he certainly wasn’t someone to look up to, so he‘s not a "hero". After all, he held a pregnant woman at gunpoint (even if she wasn’t pregnant, that‘s typical male violence) and surely was misogynistic in one way or another on top of it as well.

[reasoningdaily]

BBC.com: Telegram CEO Pavel Durov says his arrest is 'misguided'

Uh huh Pavel..

For some reason he thinks that no one knows that he facilitates most of the conversations being held online between white supremacists globally, yada yada yada.

Somebody needs to book him a one-way ticket on SpaceX and see how well he communicates up there

[black-mental-health-matters]

This does not make a man weak, or less of a man. A man who is in touch with himself and comfortable and strong enough to express themselves, that is a real man. Men are losing their lives, Black men, Black CHILDREN!!! In particular, because society says it’s not okay,but it is okay…. It is deep and acknowledgment and unification are all vital to empowering men…. Be strong for your man as he should be for you, too. Or your brother, father, cousin, friend, … we need to get the village mentality back…

[admireslove]

[benandstevesposts]

Targeted For Doing Chores - Black Teen Constitutional Rights Suspended For Carrying Out Trash At Home.

[soxsick]

[movies20477]

free movies

[thashining]

Twice as hard

[cowboykurtxx]

Once upon a time not long ago