#fringe feminism

[blackmapmedia]

[brandyschillace]

The Forgotten History of the World’s First Transgender Clinic

I finished the first round of edits on my nonfiction history of trans rights today. It will publish with Norton in 2025, but I decided, because I feel so much of my community is here, to provide a bit of the introduction.

[begin sample]

The Institute for Sexual Sciences had offered safe haven to homosexuals and those we today consider transgender for nearly two decades. It had been built on scientific and humanitarian principles established at the end of the 19th century and which blossomed into the sexology of the early 20th. Founded by Magnus Hirschfeld, a Jewish homosexual, the Institute supported tolerance, feminism, diversity, and science. As a result, it became a chief target for Nazi destruction: “It is our pride,” they declared, to strike a blow against the Institute. As for Magnus Hirschfeld, Hitler would label him the “most dangerous Jew in Germany.”6 It was his face Hitler put on his antisemitic propaganda; his likeness that became a target; his bust committed to the flames on the Opernplatz. You have seen the images. You have watched the towering inferno that roared into the night. The burning of Hirschfeld’s library has been immortalized on film reels and in photographs, representative of the Nazi imperative, symbolic of all they would destroy. Yet few remember what they were burning—or why.

Magnus Hirschfeld had built his Institute on powerful ideas, yet in their infancy: that sex and gender characteristics existed upon a vast spectrum, that people could be born this way, and that, as with any other diversity of nature, these identities should be accepted. He would call them Intermediaries.

Intermediaries carried no stigma and no shame; these sexual and Gender nonconformists had a right to live, a right to thrive. They also had a right to joy. Science would lead the way, but this history unfolds as an interwar thriller—patients and physicians risking their lives to be seen and heard even as Hitler began his rise to power. Many weren’t famous; their lives haven’t been celebrated in fiction or film. Born into a late-nineteenth-century world steeped in the “deep anxieties of men about the shifting work, social roles, and power of men over women,” they came into her own just as sexual science entered the crosshairs of prejudice and hate. The Institute’s own community faced abuse, blackmail, and political machinations; they responded with secret publishing campaigns, leaflet drops, pro-homosexual propaganda, and alignments with rebel factions of Berlin’s literati. They also developed groundbreaking gender affirmation surgeries and the first hormone cocktail for supportive gender therapy.

Nothing like the Institute for Sexual Sciences had ever existed before it opened its doors—and despite a hundred years of progress, there has been nothing like it since. Retrieving this tale has been an exercise in pursuing history at its edges and fringes, in ephemera and letters, in medal texts, in translations. Understanding why it became such a target for hatred tells us everything about our present moment, about a world that has not made peace with difference, that still refuses the light of scientific evidence most especially as it concerns sexual and reproductive rights.

[end sample]

I wanted to add a note here: so many people have come together to make this possible. Like Ralf Dose of the Magnus-Hirschfeld-Gesellschaft (Magnus Hirschfeld Archive), Berlin, and Erin Reed, American journalist and transgender rights activist—Katie Sutton, Heike Bauer. I am also deeply indebted to historian, filmmaker and formative theorist Susan Stryker for her feedback, scholarship, and encouragement all along the way. And Laura Helmuth, editor of Scientific American, whose enthusiasm for a short article helped bring the book into being. So many LGBTQ+ historians, archivists, librarians, and activists made the work possible, that its publication testifies to the power of the queer community and its dedication to preserving and celebrating history. But I ALSO want to mention you, folks here on tumblr who have watched and encouraged and supported over the 18 months it took to write it (among other books and projects). @neil-gaiman has been especially wonderful, and @always-coffee too: thank you.

The support of this community has been important as I’ve faced backlash in other quarters. Thank you, all.

NOTE: they are attempting to rebuild the lost library, and you can help: https://magnus-hirschfeld.de/archivzentrum/archive-center/

[luxiomahariel]

I admit that seeing the whole Talia Bhatt bullshit has been both kind of funny but also really making me realize how much TRFs have lost their common sense. I've seen so many of the big names who platformed Talia without an ounce of shame suddenly pretending they all knew this was going to happen. Which, a lot of people had mentioned already (her love for detrans women is explicitly brought up in her book- In a way that's really creepy at that). But these people were called hysterical transandrobros for daring to oppose her.

Now people are saying "wow I knew she was bad news, you couldn't ever try to reclaim radfeminism as a transfeminist thing" and things like that. And like, they had no issue with that a week ago. They're not even really talking about how horrifying is that she's happy to platform detrans people who vouch for gatekeeping transition, because they do literally think it's a positive thing IF it only affects transmascs. Their major gripes are about the fact they consider detrans women need to stay in their place as TMEs and that they can't ever try to compare their experiences to TMAs.

I'm sure there's going to be few people who are more on the fringes of this discourse who will realize that transradfeminism is really just unsalvageable, but there's also some TRFs that are kinda doubling down on how they just don't think there's an issue with platforming detrans grifters who think society makes it too easy to transition, specially with all the talks about how "all trans men are waiting to detransition and become hitlerites" or whatever crap they wanna say. And like, I don't think they'll realize this at this point, but vouching to make it hard for trans men to transition can't really be separated from making it also harder for trans women to transition. It's almost as if legislations that affect trans men also affect trans women. If one side is going down, so is the other.

But they're going to go through hoops and loops to find how much they can pretend there's no shared trans experience amidst trans people, I guess. And I think this latest discovery is really gonna just make it more evident which ones do truly believe this.

just to bring this point home, heres an excerpt from her book where she talks about Stone Butch Blues and how ~transfeminist~ it is that the main character Jess detranitioned:

this is the supposed future that trans(rad)feminists want? where the only gender is woman and they will justify detransitioning trans men/mascs and nonbinary people in order to do so?

trans radical feminism is as trans exclusionary as the radical feminism before it, but trfs dont care because its only targeting everyone thats not a woman 🙃

[genderkoolaid]

While 4B has been a topic of conversation online for a few years, sporadically gaining popularity among U.S. TikTok users in moments like the “I chose the bear” trend, Trump’s reelection brought it front and center again. In the days following Trump’s win, online searches for the 4B Movement saw an unprecedented spiked. Across social media, women are posting that they need to divest from men, amassing hundreds of thousands of likes and millions of views. But the conversation about 4B in the U.S. is rife with misconceptions about the movement, including false assertions that 4B accounts for the majority of feminist thought in South Korea. It’s important to note that despite the global attention, 4B is a fringe movement in South Korea, and Han says the vast majority of South Korean feminists do not abide by it. “I just want to make sure that people understand that 4B does not speak for Korean feminism,” Han tells Them. “4B is not representative of Korean feminist politics. A lot of us see something a lot more diverse and a lot more intersectional than what 4B calls for.” Though the 4B movement is quickly gaining wind in the U.S., this is far from the first time American feminists have called for a divestment from men to combat misogyny. In the 1960s, political lesbianism emerged from the second-wave feminist movement as a means of decentering men from the lives of women. Like 4B, political lesbians aimed to divest from dating and having sex with men. They asserted that any feminist can be a lesbian, defining lesbian as any woman who did not have sex with men. “We call it 4B now, but it's political lesbianism,” Han says. “Essentially it's the same thing too, but the one aspect of being a political lesbian was you may or may not [actually be a lesbian], and sometimes you really didn't have sex with other women, but [instead lived by] the idea that you prioritize your relationships with other women, that you prioritize your solidarity with other women.” But with the 4B movement both in South Korea and the U.S., Han says this isn’t the case, as men still find themselves front and center in the discourse. She adds, “I've never heard so much discussion of straight men. Can we just decenter them?” [...] Han says that they hope this blip in interest about 4B fades into the next news cycle, as there are so many other forms of intersectional South Korean feminism that do include queer and trans people. Ultimately, many of the current discussions about 4B are coming from a place of privilege that queer people don’t have the luxury of accessing. “Queer and trans folks know that isolation or imagining a life ‘just on our own’ — that's not our reality,” Han says. “That's not our vision. In many ways, I think our experiences tell us that we have to live with people who hate us. We have to work with and against and fight folks who mean to harm us and simply disavowing them or refusing to interact with them or somehow running away and keeping to ourselves, that's never been possible.”

[sunny-day-jack-official]

URGENT! Stop KOSA!

Hey all, this is BáiYù and Sauce here with something that isn't necessarily SnaccPop related, but it's important nonetheless. For those of you who follow US politics, The Kids Online Safety Act passed the Senate yesterday and is moving forward.

This is bad news for everyone on the internet, even outside of the USA.

What is KOSA?

While it's officially known as "The Kids Online Safety Act," KOSA is an internet censorship masquerading as another "protect the children" bill, much in the same way SESTA/FOSTA claimed that it would stop illegal sex trafficking but instead hurt sex workers and their safety. KOSA was originally introduced by Sen. Edward Markey, D-Mass. and Bill Cassidy, R-La. as a way to update the 1998 Children’s Online Privacy Act, raising the age of consent for data collection to 16 among other things. You can read the original press release of KOSA here, while you can read the full updated text of the bill on the official USA Congress website.

You can read the following articles about KOSA here:

EFF: The Kids Online Safety Act is Still A Huge Danger to Our Rights Online

CyberScoop: Children’s online safety bills clear Senate hurdle despite strong civil liberties pushback

TeenVogue: The Kids Online Safety Act Would Harm LGBTQ+ Youth, Restrict Access to Information and Community

The quick TL;DR:

KOSA authorizes an individual state attorneys general to decide what might harm minors

Websites will likely preemptively remove and ban content to avoid upsetting state attorneys generals (this will likely be topics such as abortion, queerness, feminism, sexual content, and others)

In order for a platform to know which users are minors, they'll require a more invasive age and personal data verification method

Parents will be granted more surveillance tools to see what their children are doing on the web

KOSA is supported by Christofascists and those seeking to harm the LGBTQ+ community

If a website holding personally identifying information and government documents is hacked, that's a major cybersecurity breach waiting to happen

What Does This Mean?

You don't have to look far to see or hear about the violence being done to the neurodivergent and LGBTQ+ communities worldwide, who are oftentimes one and the same. Social media sites censoring discussion of these topics would stand to do even further harm to folks who lack access to local resources to understand themselves and the hardships they face; in addition, the fact that websites would likely store personally identifying information and government documents means the death of any notion of privacy.

Sex workers and those living in certain countries already are at risk of losing their ways of life, living in a reality where their online activities are closely surveilled; if KOSA officially becomes law, this will become a reality for many more people and endanger those at the fringes of society even worse than it already is.

Why This Matters Outside of The USA

I previously mentioned SESTA/FOSTA, which passed and became US law in 2018. This bill enabled many of the anti-adult content attitudes that many popular websites are taking these days as well as the tightening of restrictions laid down by payment processors. Companies and sites hosted in the USA have to follow US laws even if they're accessible worldwide, meaning that folks overseas suffer as well.

What Can You Do?

If you're a US citizen, contact your Senators and tell them that you oppose KOSA. This can be as an email, letter, or phone call that you make to your state Senator.

For resources on how to do so, view the following links:

https://www.badinternetbills.com/#kosa

https://www.stopkosa.com/

https://linktr.ee/stopkosa

If you live outside of the US or cannot vote, the best thing you can do is sign the petition at the Stop KOSA website, alert your US friends about what's happening, and raise some noise.

Above all else, don’t panic. By staying informed by what’s going on, you can prepare for the legal battles ahead.

[the3musketeers]

request!! >> (fandom : degrees of lewdity, Alex)

🧸- im sooooo sorry if this is ooc help??? sorry dol fandom

w: feminization & feminine dressing (alex), sub/bot alex & dom/top reader, reader referred to as [name], a little ooc???, somnophilia maybe..?, HORRIBLE transition into sex, oral/bj, reader calls alex a girl likeee once, gay sex (real)

minors dni <3

a pink, frilled skirt, socks that hugged his plump thighs perfectly.. this was perfect, alex thought. he adjusted his red fringe, admiring himself in the view of the camera he held.

a few hours prior, his boyfriend came home from work. after greeting him, name went on his way to rest on a chair in the living room. alex had been in his room since, to surprise him with a little video.

he puts the camera lower to avoid showing his face, and starts recording. he paces towards his resting boyfriend, showing his body on camera.

his shirt was all messy, barely tucked in. the buttons near his neck are undone, and his legs were in a man spread. alex smiled behind the camera, but upon further inspection of his partner's clothes, he seemed to notice something else.

something bulging for attention under his pants. alex, who was visibly surprised, stopped filming. he puts his phone in his other hand, before slowly coming closer to him.

a little peek won't hurt.. will it?

the room was unbearably silent for alex as he unbuckled name's pants as slow as possible to avoid waking him.

successfully getting rid of the belt, alex puts it on the floor. he puts his hands to work on name's pants, pulling it off his legs to reveal the very thing he's been searching for.

it practically jumps out of [name]'s underwear, eager, and awaiting for any form of stimulation. alex found himself staring at it, his mind blanked.

alex wraps his hand around his length, as he licked his lips in anticipation. [name] would love it if he helped him out, he wouldn't mind, he thought.

he slowly strokes his boyfriend's throbbing member, all the while keeping a tight and firm grasp around it. his fingers glide over the slit on it's head, from the veins, to the base.

alex was snapped out of his trance, suddenly stopping when name groaned, and stirred in his sleep. he repositions to get comfortable, and only continues when he goes quiet again.

"..hope you're dreamin' bout me right now.." he mutters, just as he decided that he was ready for it, he took [name]'s dick into his mouth. bobbing his head at the pace of his hands.

he loved the way it tasted, the way he'd take it into his mouth n the strange, but welcomed flavor would invade his tongue. the way the veins of [name]'s member would brush against his tongue while he'd suck.

alex was distracted by his own focus on [name]'s dick, he didn't even notice his boyfriend woke up already..!

[name] put a hand on alex's red hair, rubbing it affectionately. "this's a surprise.." his voice and touch made alex's heart almost jump. alex raised his head, his mouth parting from name's cock.

" 'm sorry, I--" he tried to make up some excuse, though [name] promptly shuts his lip with a finger to his mouth. "hey.. I didn't tell you to stop, did I? you can keep goin'.. if you want."

alex was surprised, but.. it's not like [name] would deny him,, " 'kay.." he muttered in response, as his mouth hovers right above [name]'s member, about to take it back in his mouth..!

[name] let out a pleasured sigh, feeling alex's warm cavern wrapping around him. his hand raised to cover his mouth,, just as the other kept itself knotted in the redhead's hair.

only two sounds could be heard throughout the room. [name]'s pleasure-filled groans, as well as the sounds his boyfriend made as he kept sucking on his cock,

"mmh.. a-agh, good girl, suckin' me so well.." he whispers, in a husky tone. his view of alex bobbing his head, sometimes taking it so far to make his entire length disappear within his mouth. It aroused him further,

"c-cummin', honey.. I'm cumming!" [name] was itching towards his own release, tangling his hands onto alex's hair as he thrusts his hips into his face whilst he moans out loud.

alex didn't seem objected to it either, if anything, his hands were gripping around [name]'s inner thighs. the thrill of his boyfriend's seed filling his mouth-- claiming his throat as his, it was something he was waiting for this entire time.

[name]'s hands gripped onto alex's hair, locking him in place. he shot his load inside his mouth, "ah.. ah," [name] pants, as alex's cheeks filled with ropes of his warm cum, then swallowed it all up.

[name] gulps, feeling alex's still expectant gaze land on him again.

"..fuck, maybe we should go for another round."

[plaidos]

Sorry if I'm speaking out of turn but I've also noticed a real slight of hand whenever transmisogynists say "trans women and trans men should stop arguing about who has it worse and instead [graphic sex description]" because the implication is that trans people must agree that all of them are harmed equally even though that's demonstrably untrue. But as far as I can tell it's a real fringe opinion even among those TMRAs that transmascs actually have it worse than transfems (I'm sure some of them do say that though), when most of the harassment actually comes from people who insist that trans men and women are equal. Especially when that sentiment is overwhelmingly paired with sexual harassment. It's straight out of the centrists playbook. It's giving "I'm not a feminist or an MRA, I'm an egalitarian"

it’s literally the same exact thing. most of them don’t wanna say men are more oppressed because it’s obviously not true, so they reflexively lean back on what most of the Non-MRA antifeminist men have been saying the whole time: “feminism is pointless because men and women are already equal”. except trans women don’t feel like we’re equal to trans men even within the trans community, and the overwhelming response has been “you’re delusional and tearing the community apart” rather than “wow, i can’t believe so many trans women feel this way, maybe something needs to change?”. it’s heartbreaking to be honest.

[rebelfell]

Welcome to your appointment, @sidereustales Robin is all set up for you in the back. Enjoy!

18+, MDNI┃1k

cw: summer romance, a little sad but pretty much just fluff

The surface of Lover’s Lake shimmered with the rays of dying sunlight reflecting off it.

Your bare feet dangled in the water, swishing back and forth so the ripples radiated out from around your legs and the pale, freckled pair next to them. Her toes tipped in electric blue wiggled above the murky depths and she exhaled, blowing her fringe out of her eyes.

“We can write,” Robin reminded you for the umpteenth time, although the meekness in her voice betrayed her own doubts. “And talk on the phone. Once we figure out the time difference.”

You nodded back, a single tear leaking from the corner of your eye that you hurriedly swipe away. Both of you had promised, no crying. No wasting time with tears on your last night together.

There’d be plenty of time for that later.

When your mother broke the news you would be spending the last precious weeks of your summer vacation in Hawkins, Indiana of all places you just about threw a fit. You’d never heard of this “Uncle Rick” guy before, and you had zero interest in staying in his lake house even if it was free.

But now there was nowhere else you’d rather be.

Just a couple of days into your vacation, you had ambled into the local Family Video with both your younger siblings in tow. While they had raced off to scour the animated films, you drifted aimlessly through the racks until you stopped on a double VHS you picked up to examine.

“Oh!”

A squeak came from the end of the aisle as someone rounded the corner, and you looked up to see a girl about your age standing not five feet away from you seemingly frozen in place.

She had almond-shaped, watery blue eyes and choppy, caramel-tinged tresses that framed her lovely face. She was dressed in what looked like men’s clothes—a button-down shirt and a blazer underneath a dark green vest that bore the name of the business—but she feminized them slightly by cuffing the sleeves to show off a silver bangle on her wrist and the rings on her fingers.

“That’s a great one,” she said, eyes falling to the copy of Dr. Zhivago in your hands. “If you were wondering, that is. Also I’m Robin, I work here, I’m not just offering my unsolicited opinion for no reason. Not that you solicited it, just that if you were wondering how it is—it’s a good choice.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the words that tumbled so freely from her mouth, how she was seemingly trying to stay ahead of her own brain.

It was oddly fascinating.

“That’s good,” you smirked, “I only watch movies that are old enough to order their own drink.”

“Not a bad rule of thumb,” she answered with a fluttery laugh. “You know, uhhhh…they’re playing La Dolce Vita at The Hawk tonight. That one’s old enough to rent its own car.”

You took a careful step closer to her, placing the video back on the shelf and crossing your arms behind your back. Her eyes bugged, chest heaving as her breathing picked up.

“I’m hoping The Hawk is a theater,” you chuckled. “Because I do love Fellini.”

And so began what you could only describe as the most romantic four weeks of your life.

She met you that night downtown, explaining that once the mall and the fancy cinema opened, The Hawk had taken to showing older films in an attempt to draw in business. It hadn’t worked out very well, considering you two were the only ones in the theater. Not that you were complaining.

You had never felt so instantly at ease, so totally comfortable being completely 100% yourself with someone. Robin was unlike anyone you had ever met before. She had that frenetic way of talking and an even more chaotic way of thinking you found endlessly charming. She was clever and smart, but also deeply caring and intuitive. And no one had ever made you laugh like her.

Any and every moment you could, you’d spent together. Seeing movies, playing arcade games, sharing milkshakes and baskets of fries at her favorite diner. You even convinced your mom to let you borrow the car for the night so you could drive to a concert in the next town over.

And it was there, in the front seat of your family’s minivan, hours past when the show ended as you and Robin got caught up talking all night, that you leaned across the center console and kissed her.

But your favorite place to go remained the lake.

You could spend hours together down at Ricks’s dock, laying out in the sun on the bleached wood and reading while Robin sang along to some of your favorite songs played over a portable radio. Trading lazy and sleepy kisses, slipping your fingers together to hold her hand.

Those moments had felt so immovable, unencumbered by the laws of time and space. Like they could have gone on forever, stretching on into eternity. Not like now, with the sun setting and the night rushing in far too quickly for your liking; the threat of your return trip looming.

Robin leaned in first, dropping a delicate kiss to your bare shoulder and laying her head against it. You leaned back, letting your cheek press into the warm crown of her head. Taking a deep and slow breath of her strawberry-scented shampoo.

“I feel,” her throat clicked, voice wavering with hesitation, “I feel like I wanna say something…but I don’t wanna say it just because you’re leaving, or because I feel like I’m supposed to say it, or—”

You smiled sadly and took her hand, pulling it into your lap and quieting her runaway thought.

“But I would say it,” she emphasized, “I want you to know, I’d say it in a heartbeat.”

Another tear leaks out of the corner of your eye and you don’t wipe this one away. It rolls off your cheek and lands on the top of her head, seeping into her scalp. You take in a slow, shaky breath.

“I know,” you finally whisper. “I’d say it, too.”

Thank you so much for visiting the spa, we hope your services were satisfactory 🌿

[wellofdean]

OK, I was going to reblog this excellent post by @luckshiptoshore so go read it, because yes. Yes!! YES!!! But then when I got started my post got super long and I felt bad tacking it onto her post and decided to make my own in response to these tags:

#i am actually a bit obsessed by the whole hunting as queerness metaphor#it’s so clearly something everyone involved in the show is thinking about#supernatural

Gurl, me too! Like go back to the start! By the time Supernatural began, the backlash against the Joseph Campbell Monomyth-style mode of storytelling had already begun in the hallowed halls of USC film school, and yo: I was there at the time of Kripke's graduation, and my best friends from college are full scale big giant time filmmakers now, whose names I will not share on main because it's uncool, and I don't want that attention, but... yeah. I am referencing FIRST HAND SOURCES on this.

But, for a real source? The Oxford English Dictionary places the first use of the term "Queer Theory" in 1990, with Queer Studies as an option in the academy by 1992. I know the kids think it's a new-fangled thing, but Kripke graduated USC in 1996 (I graduated in 1995) and it was ALL THE RAGE by then. My friends read queer theory in their Critical Studies courses in the Film School, I read it in the College of Humanities getting my degree in Literature. By that time, you could not get through that school with any degree in any non-STEM subject without knowing about ye olde postmodern lenses, queer and feminist theory, and without knowing how to employ those lenses.

Queer refers to sexuality, yes, but the word's earliest use (again, according to the OED) is in the 1500's, meaning: strange, odd, peculiar, eccentric. Also: of questionable character; suspicious, dubious.

So, ok, in 2005, Enter Supernatural, episode 1:

Presented? Two brothers. One actively seeking credit in the straight world that is not available to him in the bosom of his family: Stanford, law school, hot co-ed girlfriend, the other bound to his fractured, wounded family by duty, yes, but also by love, living on the fringe, alone, fighting monsters, and chasing after his father's approval, and who has long since given up any dream of being 'normal'. Episode 1 presents Sam's call to adventure, which he refuses when it's just familial duty, honor and love calling him, but accepts when the show takes a very straightforward and very telling path by classically fridging his woman. Ok, now he's on board. Like John, whose motivation is another dead woman, his motivation is revenge. So far so straight!

Dean though: he's different. He is already on the adventure and he was not 'called' or given the option of accepting or refusing because he had no agency when his feet were set upon this road. He does not fit the straight world at all, because he is cobbled together out of love, duty, deep guilt, striving, desperation and fear. This is who he is now, in some elemental, incontrovertible way. It was not a choice for him, he was born to it. His mother is dead, and we later learn, she made the choices that brought them all to this fate. Dean remembers her idyllically, but he is not motivated by revenge, more than any other thing, he wants to be worthy. He wants his father's approval, his brother's love.

Enter Supernatural's main theme: fucked up relationships between men enmeshed in patriarchy, which will eventually expand to include fucking GOD HIMSELF.

And like, there are SO MANY CLEAR STEPS ALONG THE ROAD in season one, and I am not even talking about sexuality and gender here, but there is SO MUCH TO SAY about it in season 1. But I am not talking about that -- I am talking at a structural, narrative level, the whole thing is just fucking all the way queered, yo.

The big climax?

At the end of the season, Dean says: "I just want my family back together. You, me, Dad... it's all I have." He is Sam's mother, John's partner! His vulnerability and emotion is feminized and contrasted with Sam and John's more overtly driven by their more masculine/straight heroic revenge quest. John: "Sam and I can get pretty obsessed, but you always take care of this family." Only that's not John talking, it's Azazel, and Dean knows it is because his father would never forgive how soft he is, how he will always choose love and family over revenge. Then, in the end, the show makes a huge point of telegraphing that Sam is finally aligning with Dean by refusing to shoot Azazel because he's possessing John, and Sam just can't do that to Dean.

Sam and Dean are thus bound together and cemented into a marginalised path, living on the road, haunting liminal spaces and cheap motels, confronting the monstrous everyday. Sam is presented as the brains of the operation, he does research, logics his way through things (masculine) while Dean is the heart who acts impulsively and on instinct and intuition (feminine).

It later transpires that Sam has a piece of the monster inside himself, and Dean has to learn to love the monstrous, he has no choice, because Sam is his brother and then Cas... and, and, and!

Like... I could go on and on, citing ENDLESS EXAMPLES. This could be a literal book. Maybe one you need to read with a magnifying glass like my condensed edition of the OED. LIke, the queerness of Supernatural is DIZZYING and MYRIAD.

But basically? FROM THE START, hunting is a queered version of family, and within that, Dean is a queered version of a Campbellian hero. Hunting is a metaphor for otherness and liminality, and that's even before you say a WORD about sex. It starts in deviation from the norms of family, masculinity and expands from there on so many levels both in story and on a meta level. The story is flesh on queer fucking bones.

I'm so sorry, but anyone who thinks queerness was not BAKED INTO Supernatural and more specifically into Dean from DAY 1 has clearly never seen Dean's insane lip gloss in season 1, and vastly underestimates the cultural awareness of people who write shit in Hollywood, and also the other people who put pink lip gloss on pretty boys in Hollywood. Nothing that gets on your screen wasn't a fucking choice made and approved by a LONG LIST of people who know what they are about.

[souryogurt64]

really appreciate you for talking about everything, this fandom always goes through it lmao. also i just lurk so im not rlly deep into what is happening most of the time so your blog is like my newspaper js

also im curious if bc of everything, do you feel detached to fob? do you resonate with their music at all nowadays? is pw really a genius? just want to know your perspective.

thanks again for being THE blog always excited to see the cats and fits queen

Ok Fall Out Boy were like part of my life for a long time and probably always will be which is why I'm able to dedicate so much energy to Hating full time but --

A lot of my interest in them was because of Pete's book but recently the ghostwriter claimed Pete has never read it and doesn't know what's in it. Additionally, after the SWMRS fiasco I was attracted to the idea of him realizing the error of his ways in 2012 or whatever vs BJA who was like publicly a feminist in the 90s and then called a teenage girl a cunt in 2020 or whatever but ever since he started acting like a cartoon supervillain in SNL sketch about if Hugh Hefner discovered feminism that has also gone away.

Also like I knew hardcore was like homophobic but I thought it was just like "Adam and Eve not Adam and Steve" not "Gay people should be rounded up and killed," and it was actually very surprising to read that book and learn it was fringe even for the 1990s, and realize how far people go out of their way to obfuscate this to preserve FOB's legacy lol. And it's also frustrating that FOB would rather let those people continue to dictate their history rather than like ...... be involved in projects that include people like Hayley

And like FOB are not remotely homophobic and were like 15 at the time so I get it but it's annoyinggggggggggg that their fans send "I hope you get raped" to a bunch of people when someone makes a 24 note text post being like 'Wow look at this book I'm reading, I didn't know that and that's kind of fucked up."

[streakoflavender]

I feel like part of the problem is the very label of TERF, the implication that transmisogynist feminism is limited to one small relatively fringe group, and the assumption that feminists in general, and especially feminists who are marginalized in other ways, will be friendly towards trans women by default.

[smiley-mcdoggington]

Stan dressing as Princess Unattainabelle for Ford on their anniversary is stuck in my head

WHEN I TELL YOU THIS TOOK SO LONG I PUT THEM IN THE CORNER THEY'RE THE WORST I NEED A NAP TW GRUNKLE FUNKLING TW FEMINIZATION TW FANGIRLING DURING SEX TW CUM MARKING

A corset is basically a girdle if Stan doesn't think about it too hard, and yeah, maybe his rugged long pirate hair looks kinda nice with some conditioner for once and with a few little braids that had taken way too long because it was slightly harder than braiding a squirmy 12 year old's full mop. Stan still thinks he looks ridiculous. At least at that bar in 77' being ridiculous was part of the fun, now Stan was flipping through Ford's game manual looking at pictures of a very disproportionate basement dweller's idea of what a woman looks like and realizing this is one of his worse ideas. Not as bad as the llama incident but up there.

Firstly, he was fat. No getting around it, the corset was almost worse than the girdle, at least the girdle didn't have spaces in the sides where hips should be and love handles are instead. Secondly, the part of the dress supposed to be filled out were indeed filled out except with saggy old man tits instead of, you know, anything that could hold a shape that wasn't sad and droopy like two rotten pears stuffed in his bodice. Thirdly, his hair was thin, started thinning in his twenties and never came back fully, and it looked even worse trying to look anything like the picture, weighing itself down with the braids and making his hair look greasy and his forehead too prominent and it was just a terrible look for him. He didn't do regency, even in 77' his appeal was new money gold-digger, not fucking princess.

But Stan had already bought the shit, and it was Ford's returnaversary, and Stan would be dammed if he didn't at least get a laugh from Ford after spending so long on the stupid hair and the stupid makeup and the stupid dress he had actually liked until he saw himself in the mirror.

Stan knocked on their bedroom door to get Ford over from their tiny kitchenette. "Hey, Sixer!"

Ford's steps were almost silent as he went over and tried the locked handle. "Yes?" He asked.

"Where were you in your nerd game again?"

"DDnmD? I had to stop right before I got to Princess Unattainabelle and the final boss fight with Probabilator - why do you ask?"

"This princess - she, like, on the boss's side?" He asked, knowing the answer.

"Certainly not, she's been kidnapped and tied up behind a puzzle door. Why? Do you want to play?" Perfect, Stanley just needed some rope and Ford's desk chair. He grabbed the emergency rope - there probably wouldn't be an emergency in the next few hours.

"Remember what I said about Never?" He asked, setting up the chair to face the door without letting it drag on the floor.

Ford sighed. "Really, you indulge in the kids' interests, why not mine?"

"I'd say I indulge you more than enough already, Poindexter." He said, tying his torso around the chair back - not much, just enough he couldn't lean forward or slump back.

"But you won't try just a single game with me? You know how hard it is to play by myself? I know all my plot twists."

Stan tightened the rope around his hands, behind his back and doing something good to his posture. "You know what? Fine, but I'm not getting up, so we're playing in here."

"That suits me perfectly, my manuals are in there anyway." Ford tried the handle. "Stanley? It's locked."

Stanley nearly giggled evilly, but kept it down. "The hell? No it's not." He said, knowing full well it was. Take that for a puzzle door.

Ford tried the handle again. "Stanley, its definitely locked."

Stanley didn't care to keep the smile off his face. He put the slightest fringe of panic into his voice. "Sixer?" He said, and he could hear Ford's posture shift. "The door's stuck - there's, like, weird runes on the door? Did you put those there?" He lied.

Ford jiggled the handle harder. "Stanley? What do you mean 'runes'?"

"Six if it wasn't you who the fuck put these symbols here and why the fuck can't I open the door?" He asked. "Is there someone in here..?" He put the slightest tremble in his voice with an evil, evil smile.

Then Ford was stomping around, probably looking for Stan's lockpicking set.

Then there was a second of silence followed by a loud bang as the doorknob blew off the door with one of Ford's scifi guns. Well. That works.

Ford kicked in the door, gun still raised, but the second his eyes landed on Stan he froze.

Stan faked a little struggling that was mostly arching his back. "It was Probabilator! He said he wouldn't let me go unless I agreed to marry him!" He whined like a prissy princess, waiting for the laugh, the 'What the hell are you wearing Stanley?', the threatening to get pictures.

But when he peeked at Ford from where he'd dramatically closed his eyes and thrown his head back, Ford was still just staring at him. Shame curled under his confined ribs. Maybe it wasn't even funny, maybe Ford could tell how much time Stan spent on his stupid outfit and just thought he looked pathetic. Maybe he was trying to think of how to politely leave to throw up. Maybe this was the last straw for Stanley "Try Hard" Pines and Ford would avoid looking at him directly until he could throw him into the nearest land mass where he could be a gross old man in a dress away from Ford's precious retinas.

Ford took slow steps forward and Stan waited for the laughter or the questions or the slap in the face, eyes closed and head turned as far away as he could while he tried his best to pick at his own damn knots around his wrists.

Then a wide palm was on his cheek. "Princess." Ford crooned, a thumb running along his cheekbone while Stanley very carefully opened his eyes to face him. "You're safe now, I've come to rescue you, my lady." He said, voice soft and gentle like the 'I love you's he'd mutter on the bad nights.

Stanley blinked at Ford, down on one knee, and struggled for a second to find any good reaction to that. He swallowed heavily and got back into character. He tilted his head down like a blushing virgin, pushing his chest out further. "Thank the gods, I was beginning to think all hope was lost before you found me, hero." He said, not bothering to pitch his voice up to keep it from cracking. Ford didn't seem to mind at all, eyes still flicking around to different details of his appearance.

"Of course, my lady, I could never allow for your virtue to be stolen by the likes of Probabilator." He said, and if Stan hadn't gotten into his period dramas he would not have known what 'virtue' meant.

Stan hadn't been a virgin since he was thirteen, he certainly couldn't stay one with some of his past careers. But, the thought send a shiver down his spine. The idea of Ford being his first, instead of Coach's daughter that in hindsight was way too old to be sniffing around the middleschool. The idea of Ford being his only, and not the clients he couldn't count because when you're high enough you lose track. Just Ford.

He turned his head away, putting a hesitant look on his face because Princess Unattainabelle didn't say 'Fuck Yeah'. "Thank you, you're right. My virtue is to be earned by someone deserving."

Ford licked his lips. "Of course."

"Someone heroic, and strong, and kind - willing to brave that villain's lair just to save me." He said, eyes away and trying very hard not to smile.

Ford practically had stars in his eyes, fifteen again and looking at the telescope Stan stole for his birthday, a red flush up his forehead and burning his ears. "I agree. You deserve only the best, my lady."

Stanley sighed. "But I will never receive it." He said, face dramatically tilted away, straining the ropes to keep his back arched and his chest out brazenly. "That villain will never cease while my virtue remains, how can I hope to marry when I cannot even hope to stay safe from him? When he will hunt me until he has me for only himself? " He batted away nonexistent tears.

"He cannot hunt a virtue you do not have." Ford said faintly, and if it were anyone but Stan it would have sounded like an accusation instead of a proposal. Luckily, Stan knows Ford and his inability to not sound like an asshole.

Stan gave his brother a shocked look. "Do you mean-- here? Now?" He asked, sounding agast at the idea he'd been hinting at.

Ford stood, and with Stan tied to the chair he loomed. "My dear, once my claim is staked you will never worry for your safety again. I will protect you with my last breath if you allow me." He purred.

Stanley looked up at him, wide-eyed like a wounded deer. "Please." He said, voice low. "Be gentle with me."

Ford broke. "God, Stan." He huffed while he dropped back to his annoyingly good knees, pushing up Stan's skirts and kissing up his thighs until he was mouthing at Stanley's boxers, half-hidden under the fabric while Stan hummed and rolled his hips against Ford's mouth.

Ford yanked his boxers down and immediately snatched him and swallowed his tip, rolling it with his tongue, shallow sucks and kitten licks that made all the layers feel a thousand times hotter. He huffed, knowing a Princess wouldn't knee Ford in the shoulder and tell him to stop fucking around, but with the rope he couldn't push forward at all. Ford pulled back a little and kissed right against his slit and Stan realized Ford was treating his cock like a clit. He would not admit the noise he made at that realization but it had Ford petting his thigh and shushing him, drawing back and making Stan wonder what he did wrong.

Then Ford's head finally got out from under his skirts, and Stan's hands jerked in his annoyingly good knot trying to reach for him. His whole face looked sunburnt, glasses sitting crooked on his nose, hair a static mess, and a little giddy smile when he took Stan in again. Stan wanted nothing more than to drag him forward and kiss that stupid look off his face. But instead, Ford slid his hand up his thigh and to the rope keeping him to the chair.

Ford's hands were quick on the knots, not a second to slip or hesitate, no wasted movement, the ropes fell to the floor quicker than they'd been tied and then those hands were on his corset, running over details with his fingers. Stan shifted, tried to sit straighter, legs together and politely to the side even if his bare dick was itching at his soft cotton slip and visibly tenting his skirts.

Ford stood straight and moved, Stan tried to figure out how to show him his bound wrists when suddenly there was an arm behind his shoulders and under his knees and the next second he was out of his seat. He looked up at Ford, who looked like Stan's weight didn't matter at all, like Stan was that waify little princess in his book. He felt himself curl the longer he spent off the ground, shake and awkward while Ford carried him, but it was only for a few seconds before Ford laid him out on their bed like a fragile little thing he'd never been before.

Fingers were in his hair, fiddling with the little braids while the other hand started running up his thigh. "So perfect." He muttered, and it stabbed Stan the same way it always did, right under the lungs, making his breath stutter. "My lady, your beauty is beyond measure."

Stan's whole face was hot. "Is it?" He asked, goading Ford with a bashful look.

"Of course." Ford kissed his cheek. "Wars have been started over your beauty, and they would never end if they saw you now, with your silver hair and freckles and broad shoulders and..." His eyes trailed downward. "And the way you spill out of your dress..." He crooned, lips pressed against the hairy cleavage Stan couldn't properly fit in the bodice. "Having you after all the years I spent loving you, it's incredible."

Stan's throat was tight. "Could you untie my wrists?" He pleaded. "So I can show you how much I love you back?"

Ford's lips curled in a smile against his chest, and he pulled away enough to help Stan flip onto his stomach to get at the rope.

A thumb ran along his wrist just under the rope, before Ford covered Stan like a blanket, hands on his sides and lips on his ear with that smile still on his face. "No, my love, not tonight." He said simply, grabbing him by the hips and dragging him up onto his knees, pressed onto Ford's cock through the skirts.

"why nh-not?" Stan asked, rolling back slightly into the frotting.

Ford didn't answer, instead one of his hands was up Stan's skirt again, dragging the heavy fabric up until cold air hit his ass. Stan wasn't usually looked at too closely, he didn't know how to make the angle look pretty, but he tried anyway, arching his back and dragging his legs a little apart. A thumb ran down to his hole and Ford paused.

Stan had been... Optimistic. Before he properly saw himself all together. "Are you wet for me, my love?" He practically cooed, and Stan pressed his face into the mattress. Ford pinched his thigh and he nodded. "Perfect."

Ford stuck two of his own fingers into Stan, scissoring them just to check before pulling away.

Stan shifted onto his cheek to glance behind him, but he couldn't see a thing under the poof of his bunched-up dress. Ford leaned forward, one hand pressing his bound wrists deeper into his back, the other lining him up, and pressing forward.

Stan would bottle and sell the feeling if he could, would make a killing. He pressed back into Ford while Ford leaned over him again to kiss his cheek, his neck, his ear. He felt spoiled, and he would never fight being spoiled.

Ford set the pace slow, strong, angling at Stan's prostate without giving him a chance to breathe unless it was on Ford's time. He started pushing back as much as he could, he was probably staining his slip but he didn't care, he'd been hard since he put the dress on.

His brother's hand on his wrists left to pet his flank. "You take it so well, it's like you were made for me, princess."

Princess.

"Please--" Stan groaned. "Please, Stanford--"

Ford started moving faster, too fast, Stan felt like he was on fire. "I know, princess, I know." He didn't, Stan was clutching his hands together like a prayer, drooling through his sheets, if Ford knew what he was doing he'd be a lot more smug right now. Stan couldn't keep up anymore, Ford's hands on his hips were the only thing holding him up at all.

Stan made one attempt at Ford's name that sounded more like a wounded dog and Ford moved one of his hands down to his drooling cock. "Do you wanna come, princess?" He asked, and Stan couldn't even last until Ford started moving his hand, yelling into the mattress and coming all over his pretty fingers.

Ford helped him ride it out, kissing his neck and muttering about how beautiful that was until Stan went lax. Then he immediately yanked himself out, grabbed Stan by the shoulder and flipped him to his back, wrenching his wrists and spooking the hell out of him.

But Ford, dick in cum-covered hand, was looking down at him like a kid looked at a puppy in a shop window, squirming where he sat. "Your dress? Can I?"

Stan arched himself in an attempt to get more comfortable laying on his hands, and Ford followed the movement. "Of course, you won." He said, expecting the dress to finally come off.

Nope. Ford straddled him and started jerking himself, tight and fast, dick pointed at the dress' low neckline. Stan's breath hitched, and he pushed his chest out, looking Ford in the eye and waiting. He put on his phoniest meek look. "Will this make me yours?"

Ford whined, painting the front of the dress and Stan's cleavage white, staring at his work while he rode himself down. His shoulders drooping was the only warning before Ford all but fell on top of him, immediately kissing all over his face, his already gross hand smearing his mess around and trying to hide it as a grope. Ford was gonna pay to get that cleaned.

"Thank you Stanley, you're so perfect - so wonderful - my Stanley." He panted. "It's not even our birthday, what did I do to deserve this?"

"It's your returnaversary." Stan said. "Now would you get these ropes off me?"

Ford pulled them both to their sides to fumble at the ropes without looking. "I'd hardly consider that a date to spoil me, you were the one that did all the work getting me home."

"Yeah, well, mom did all the work for our birthday but we're still celebrating that."

"Touche. I suppose I'll have to figure out a way to pay this back." He said, finally getting the rope undone.

Stan hummed, throwing an arm over Ford the second he was able. "Hm."

Ford snuck one hand down to pull the blanket over them. "I'll think of something in the morning, old men need to sleep."

"Hm."

[transfemme-shelterdog]

Ah yes the famously not-conservative fringe political group, the radical feminists! Renowned for such takes as “trans people should be harmed because they are perverted freaks and break gendered expectations,” “women are inherently predisposed to being weaker than men & must isolate themselves from society to protect their fragile virtues,” & “GNC people, especially those who are also POC, scare me :(” (all of these are takes I have personally argued against for the past 10 years from people with shit like “rad” or “wymyn” or “gyno” in their url, if any radfem is like “well no that's not true!!!” either they’re (1) lying or (2) they don't realize the company they keep, and frankly either reflects badly on them). Anyway, enjoy that non-conservative KoolAid, folks! Ain’t it just marvellous that we’re arguing, especially those in Trump's America, for people to be put down and harmed just because we hate that they’re doing what they want to their own bodies? Aren’t we so # progressive & # leftist for saying that women can’t do anything at the rate men do, & that our feminism should resemble that one Fairly Odd Parents episode?

Not to mention the number of radfems who misgender me on purpose, knowing full well that I'm a trans woman.

Conservatives love to do that, leftists not so much.

Just cause you slap the name "feminism" on your rhetoric doesn't mean it's any more progressive than he Nazis were Socialists.

[crinolinecuriosity]

so glad to know that weird girl culture is alive and well every year when I see the Stuck at Prom gallery... here are some faves from this year’s gallery, all of which were not finalists. 

view the whole gallery and vote for the winners here!

Lizbeth -  there were a handful of outfits that were inspired by cultures but this one was one of my favorites, a love the color scheme, the fringe, and the bow, I think she did a very good job and I could genuinely see someone wearing this on the runway!

Elizabeth - really liked her colors, which she said was inspired by a peacock at her house I think? but what stuck out to me was the gradient on the edge of her skirt and the straps

Presley - I can definitely see why she wasn’t a finalist but she also looks gorgeous, I think it’s hard to pull off a mostly solid red dress and she genuinely looks like a Disney princess

Jadyn - genuinely cannot believe she was not a finalist. like the first picture literally does not look like duct tape, you could tell me it was a fabric costume on Broadway and I would believe you.

Catrielle - another one I can’t believe wasn’t a finalist! there are always a handful of outfits that use gold but I love what she did with it. plus the shoes and the bag?? love love love

Ava - I could LITERALLY see this at the Met Gala red carpet. the detailing is insane and the skirt came out looking really nice and even. she looks gorgeous!

Ritika - there were a couple of circle skirts but this was one of my favorites. her theme of harmony seemed relevant with a lot of the current events going on as well - the skirt is colorful but isn’t distracting and I think it’s a more elaborate dress that actually manages to pull off the busier look

Veronica - I DEFINITELY think she should have been a finalist for suits. like I think this outfit is more compelling and has a cooler background (Filipina culture) than like. the white(?) guy who just made a samurai suit. I really love how she like... feminized the suit jacket if that makes sense? I think she slayed it

Madyson - this one was so fun to look at! I love the manta ray bag and the sand dollar earrings too, I would love to see a fabric rendition of this dress. you can tell she had a lot of fun making it from the pictures, too.

Eliza - this one was inspired by a Shakespeare line if I remember correctly and it really reminds me of old 80s/90s catalogues. was really impressed by the puffed sleeves!

Owen - there’s always more dresses than suits entered since most of the competitors are girls. this was a suit that was inspired by the AIDS crisis quilts, I think he should have been a finalist and he looks more put together than some of the suit finalists

Kendyl - this one was insane to me - she looks gorgeous and I could see this being a real fabric prom dress or a dress a celeb wears on the red carpet. I can’t get past the detailing and the ruffles?? insanely talented

Lily - personally I think this suit would have looked better without the rectangles on the pant legs but that being said, I love this outfit so much, you can tell what she drew inspiration from and I think it’s simple but classy and it works beautifully. I could see this on the runway!

[racefortheironthrone]

Maybe this is too broad, but wondering if there's a better term than "conspiracy theorist" to describe some large figures in the ongoing national discourse? Not that "fluoride in the drinking crowd" were serious thinkers or total harmless, but am I alone is finding "conspiracy theory" too quaint and mild to describe how mainstream rather fringe these things are and also how totally evidence-free and something just plain dumb they can also be?

I don’t think conspiracy theories have ever been quaint and mild.

Think about the history of antisemitism from medieval blood libels to 19th century theories of Jewish financial cabals to the “Protocols of the Elders of Zion” dreamed up by Tsarist agents-provocateur that took the theory global and spawned untold numbers of imitators, to Hitler’s invention of “Judeo-Bolshevism” that married traditional antisemitism to anti-Communism and nationalist populism. Conspiracy theories one and all, but fully capable of spawning pogroms and fascist dictatorships.

Likewise, we think of Anti-Masonic or Illuminati conspiracy theories as self-evidently ridiculous and harmless, but we forget that they were used by cultural conservatives in church and state to wage culture wars on the Enlightenment, liberalism, secularism, democracy, every revolution from America to France to 1848 and beyond, feminism and almost every social movement of the 18th and 19th century. People died or were surveilled or were sent to prison, political parties were formed or banned, and conservatism itself was founded in the name of “poisoning the minds of the lower orders” to inoculate them from the influence of secret societies.

As Dan Olsen has shown, even seemingly benign conspiracy theories like the JFK assassination cover-up or the Moon landing was faked or the earth is flat can hide much more malign motivations, just waiting for the opportunity to radicalize and proselytize:

[yosefinasays]

In Defense Of Electronic Civil Disobedience

There has been some criticism lodged against us. Claims have been made that our activism is merely engagement. That our movement is sort of sofa ersatz activism. However, in order for this argument to hold true, you must make a central conceit. That the concrete world is somehow more real than the digital. Members of The Kollectiv do not view the net from this narrow scope. We see the digital realm as an extension of the more abstract plain of technology. We see the space, though incorporeal on a macroscale, to be very real.

The average user in 2024, spent a 1/5th of their life online. Whether engaging with shopping, posting, or just browsing the net this is a significant portion of time. Enough time is spent on the net that a culture has emerged around various social media sites. Artifacts are made that can only be interacted with in the digital space. And people can become totally enmeshed in a digital world if they wish. Interacting with the greater world almost exclusively in the digital realm. 

An extreme example would be an individual who works as a digital nomad, does all their shopping online, and interacts with others exclusively through social media. Although this individual would be seen to be living a fringe net lifestyle, this way of life is very possible. To argue that activism should not be done through the medium of technology is only alienating. It does not serve one's greater purpose. 64% of the world is online. That is 5.52 billion souls. 

Though The Kollectiv adopts a view of the internet separate from those informed by commodity and corporate interest, the economic activity on the net can’t be ignored. Imagine the disruptive potential of a boycott. The sheer volume of activity allows the activist to make lasting change on the world. We can look back to The Gamestop Short Squeeze. A grassroots political action originating in Wallstreets Bets. To go further back in history we can make reference to the initiatives of net.artists. Groups such as the VNS created works like the “A Cyberfeminist Manifesto for the 21st Century”. Work like this advanced both feminism and digital art. To write off the digital landscape as a lesser landscape of reform, activism, and engaging art, one would have to ignore the efficacy of these movements. 

Going further into the political landscape we can look at the example set by Net Strike. A software that was deployed by activists in the 90’s for digital sit ins. It essentially was a tool for groups to orchestrate DDOS attacks. A vector of protest, that has unfortunately been taken from the general public and is now deployed heinously by state actors to suppress movements. This reversal if anything shows that net activism should be more staunchly defended. The internet is now often the first point of contact individuals have with any movement. And it is also the center of global operations. Are rights on the net should be defended, advanced, and clearly defined. The right to protest should not just extend to the physical space, when the digital space is becoming such a driving factor in our lives.

The Kollectiv’s digital graffiti campaign and its current food disparity initiative is only the beginning. We plan on continuing to mobilize people to be the change they want to see in the world. By establishing our ad hoc hyperlink structure: essentially a website built within the framework of another. We will be raising awareness for our cause. Making people think about the effects of food disparity, while considering new ways to experience the internet. Are either of these aims ignoble? I do not believe so.

We are continuing in the footsteps of activists such as The Electro Hippies. Advancing methods of protest into the 21st Century. We are also continuing the efforts of situationist thinkers. Now that globalism taken home and the internet has pushed commodity and spectacle into our home. We must attack it at its source if liberty is to continue to flourish and grow for future generations.

 To ignore the possibilities of change now is rob the children of the future of their potential fruit. That is why I continue to call for the development of net.art and methods of activism on the web. Not only to raise awareness for causes affecting us here and now, but to change the landscape of the internet for the people of the future.