#horrible things that happen to women and I do believe that the trans movement needs to move in a new direction and cancel all the creeps

[rametarin]

We deal with this, “fiction is reality” shit EVERY. GENERATION.

And I mean it comes back among authoritarians playing to sheep EVERY fucking generation on different pretenses.

It always boils down to a bunch of people that are insecure about the effects of culture and media on other people, and as a flimsy pretense/pretext to restrict access to things to other people “in society” for their own safety and sense of security.

And when it comes to, “obscene literature” or illustrations, the source is always jealousy, insecurity and an attempt to reduce other people down to a demographic statistic. Whether it’s reducing black people to a caricature and acting like hip-hop just turns the kids into violent, drug abusing, psychotic felons, or imagining pornography is what turns people into horny fucking do-nothings, it’s always about control.

And we’ve put it off for so long. We’ve put off the conversation about just what demographic these people play to in order to get traction and followers and staying power and warm bodies for their movements. They’re the demographic that makes antis- work, the demographic that screams for censorship because illustrations “hurt them personally,” or “cause men to hurt them.”

I’m talking about women. Particularly, cis women, as trans women are not in numbers enough to affect anything, and it is EXPLICITLY IMPORTANT that the source of the offense and complaint come from the population that are the gateway through which the next generation is born and brought up.

Individual men may be so clueless as to assume the way degeneration works is a person is left improperly or negligently nurtured, and so just make bad decisions because, “they were never taught better.” They embrace the idea that people only do bad shit because, “the society,” isn’t paying attention, or that individual people are just blank slates beholden to the righteousness and morality of the cultural hivemind of said society. That Society is an objective effect, and if bad people exist, it’s proof to them that there’s something wrong with said society.

But individual men know that the bad actions of other men are not caused solely by “male culture,” or the absence of it, or shitty “role models.” They see the shitty natural inborn attitudes of other men, and despite being raised in shitty conditions, naturally develop a good head on their shoulders, and despise actions like that. As men you can’t HELP but grow up watching boys around you make shitty decisions based on shitty impulse control and, no matter how often they’re punished, how much they’re loved, how much they’re compassionately talked to, STILL act the fool and wind up as terrible, stealing, violent adults. As men you can’t do anything BUT reconcile that some people are just fucking shitheads, and the idea as a man YOU should be punished or treated like the “association” of men itself is at fault, smacks of sexism. The same sort of sexism women’s lib supposedly is against- at least, when it happens to women.

Women, however, are not men, are not privy to the thoughts and feelings of men. Men are abstracts to these women, many of whom are so solipsistic or gynocentrist that they just see men as a class of monsters in a videogame. Just a pattern of individuals that surely must all get their code and culture from “society.” Clearly, when there’s bad men about, it’s proof this “society” isn’t doing everything it can to mollify and gentrify those horrible beastly men to make them safe and not dangerous and productive.

These women that see men like living aggregates for society, imagine that in order to “keep men working properly,” they need to not have “bad moral influences,” treating pornography and access to drugs and literature like a cleaning lady treats dirt on linen. They imagine that the only reason rape or murder or theft by men occurs is because “there’s a problem with men, thinking that is okay.” Like the only reason your average man isn’t running around violently raping people or killing them is because they sang enough hymns at church- by force. Or because they were prevented from, “getting deranged by wrongthink.”

So with this in mind, how do they imagine porn affects men, male minds, and this big abstract-turned-monolithic-concept called, “society?”

Well, they imagine fiction is reality. That if “people of lesser intellect” read a thing, then they’ll inherently believe it, because, “it presents itself as factual and reality.” When.. no. That’s not how it works. They believe, absolutely, that without some mechanism there to go, “BUT WE’RE JUST PRETENDING THO, IT’S NOT REAL!” that will inherently make people, whom all have tenuous and toddler-like grasps of reality and object permanence, think a thing in fiction is real and applies to reality.

And naturally, they see men as people of lesser intellect. So they reason, those dangerous statistical anomalies are just men that haven’t been browbeaten, and whom are subject to any given negative influence or writing or opinion or culture that preaches values and ideas incongruent with their preferences, as women. Therefore, they conclude, fiction that does not preach their “good values” is in fact advocating bad ones, bad habits, bad moral character, bad mental health- call it whatever you want based on your generation. It’s ALL THE SAME SHIT. All the same knee-jerk moralism based on justifying societal and institutional use of force to restrict and arbitrate and judiciously enforce and justify dictating censorship and good-think. It’s just a question of where that basis comes from.

And theres’ ultimately no reasoning with that culture of women when they grasp hold of a thing that appeals to them, flatters and justifies their prejudices and biases. You can sit there colorfully or dryly explaining the ways in which this shitty point of view is wrong, much as you can try to walk back a persons beliefs in their homophobia that they base on religious purism or use the purism to validate their homophobia, but you cannot just get them individually to give up those nice, comfortable beliefs.

And when grouped together for mutual support and validation, it becomes this negative-thought, field of fucking SHEEP braying “Nuuuh-uuuh!” and arguing for restriction of content and sanitation and disbarrment from certain subject matter to be in consumable porn or literature or even just art. The only thing keeping them in check being the consequences for vandalism, and the ability for a community or institution to police out the bias usurpers that would seek to enter their foundations and run them on behalf of the values of these easily upset, insecure sheep.

every FUCKING generation, it manifests in some manner. Be they from church ladies, to radical feminists, to intersectional feminists. If you capture the imaginations, insecurities, jealousies, foster and sanction them, interpret them, get young women believing them, participating in the romance that tells them the way to change the bad things or take the edge off the bad men is to foster and enable authoritarianism (be it regional social, regional institutional, or federal institutional) then you have this neverending avalanche of unending support for it. Be it from dictators, or just from pure ideology from a doctrine. They’ll do it. And stubbornly and obstinately believe in whatever compliments their biases, to the contradiction of everything.

And while you can remove a man and his influences on the next gen from the home, from the social radius of the next generation to be a significant source of culture and how they relate to young people, removing women from the equation, from whom the next generation comes from, is virtually impossible. So a male zealot, already susceptible to scrutiny and punishment for being so wild and zealous with their beliefs, can be retaliated against, muted, beaten and removed from relevance until they censor themselves or change their tune.

But you cannot do that to a female human, or women/mothers as a sex, without both women AND men taking it as an attack on humanity at their most prime and kernel. It has to be done with disproportionate authoritarian state power that does not fear mass dissent and violent retaliation, or it isn’t done at all.

So these zealous Karens that embrace wholly these ideas enabling authoritarianism under a banner they approve of, are allowed to propagate unchallenged, and even if challenged, cannot be subdued or subverted. Their own little cliques and echo chambers and lack of desire to even consider their positions are wrong. Any attempt to point the fingers at this very real, disproportionate and characteristic, objective power female humans have just on the basis of their sex and how that relates among them socially, can and will be trash binned arbitrarily as, “sexism.” Despite the fact, it’s absolutely true.

So long as women that believe “society” is an objective, monolithic thing from which, “that other sex” and other women get their marching orders on how to BE what they are, and don’t see them as billions of individuals with their own ambitions, instincts, inborn personality and character flaws, independent of “society’s failures,” believing those people can be saved or corrected IF ONLY WE CENSOR EVERYTHING or make all media “good thing,” we’re just going to have people with illiberal beliefs asserting their dominance and insisting it’s for the soul of the species, society and the planet.

I mean yeah there are male antis and shit, but honestly. Tell me honestly. How many fucking deranged fandom people that are doing shit like mailing cookies with sewing needles backed into them are male gendered or male sexed, either? As uncomfortable as it may be to acknowledge or consider this might have a sexual grounding, I’m sorry. Not acknowledging it is simply rejecting reality.

[maaaaarveeeeel]

They Can’t See Us If We Move

Summary: Alexander Pierce is in the process of opening a new park. However, after a horrible accident the safety of the park has raised some serious questions. Now, in order for his beloved park to open, he must get the opinions of three renowned experts, Dr. Steve Rogers, Dr. Bucky Barnes and Dr. Tony Stark, to sign off on the safety of the park. But what happens when everything doesn’t go as planned. And what happens when his grandchildren are in the middle of it all?

A/N: So I got excited and decided to post chapter 1 early. I’m going to work on this more tomorrow. Few things, anyone that only knows the movie you’ll notice I stole a lot of dialogue from it in this first chapter (I promise I don’t do that in the later ones, just this first part has a lot of science stuff that I’m not about to fake.) Anyone that knows both the book AND movie, I’m sure you can appreciate why I picked Pierce for Hammond (he was actually a huge ass in the book.) As for the deaths, remember this is an au, so just because it says “lives/dies both” doesn’t mean I’ll actually follow that, or have to. Enjooooooooooooy! (I’ll add tags and warnings as I post chapters)

Warnings: Only one in this is Pierce being an ass and slightly transphobic towards Bucky (it’s very subtle) 

Characters:

Grant (paleontologist, lives both)- Steve Rogers 

Ellie(paleobotanist, lives both)- James Buchanan Barnes (trans, woman to man)

Malcolm (chaotician, lives both)- Tony Stark

Hammond (InGen CEO, dies book, lives movie)- Alexander Pierce 

Muldoon (game warden, lives book, dies movie)- Sam Wilson 

Gennaro (lawyer lives book, dies movie)- Bruce Banner

Wu (chief geneticist, dies book, lives movie)- Dr. Stephen Strange 

Tim (kid dino knowledge, lives both)- Peter

Lex (kid hacker, lives both)- Morgan 

Arnold (chief engineer, dies both)- Nick Fury

Nedry (computer programer, dies both)- Brock Rumlow 

____________________________________

Chapter 1

Steve wiped the dirt off his face and gave a happy sigh as he looked down at the newly dug skeleton. It was a big find for them, an important one too. 

"They're ready to try again babe." 

Steve turned towards the voice and smiled. Bucky, his boyfriend, was walking towards him with a small smile on his face. He grunted and started walking towards the man, letting the diggers know where he was going. 

"Think it'll work this time?" Steve mumbled.

"One can only hope." Bucky sighed, rubbing Steve's back and kissing his cheek. 

As they approach where their team was set up Steve frowns. Some of the volunteers have, once again, brought their kids with them. He doesn't understand why they feel the need to bring them. It's not like the kids are allowed to do anything. The bones are far too fragile for them to be handling. In Steve's opinion they shouldn't even be here, but Bucky says if he wants the volunteers to come help he has to accept the kids. 

"Ready to try again?" One of the volunteers, he thinks his name is Clint, asks from where he's sitting in the chair. 

Steve just nods and turns where two others are standing with the machine. A moment later a loud noise, like a gunshot, echoes through the canyon. 

"How long does it usually take?" Bucky asks, looking at the screen.

"Should have an immediate response," Clint replies, "shoot the radar in the ground, then the image bounces back."

Suddenly the screen lights up with an image, and the group lets out sighs of relief. 

"Amazing," a volunteer shouths, "in a couple years we won't have to dig anymore."

Steve frowns at this. "Where's the fun in that?"

Bucky smiles and pats the man's arm before looking back at the screen. "Postmortem contraction of the posterior neck ligaments." He turns and looks at Steve. "Velociraptor?" 

"Yes, good shape too." Steve smiles and points at the screen, then frowns as it goes fuzzy. 

"What happened?" Clint asks. 

"Dr. Rogers isn't machine compatible." Bucky chuckles.

"They've got it in for me." Steve mumbles. "Look at the half-moon shaped bone. Hard to believe they never learned to fly." The group behind him laughed and he rolled his eyes before turning towards them. "Well, we've found that dinosaurs have more in common with present-day birds than they do reptiles. See, look at the pubic bone," he turns and points at the screen, "it's turned backwards, just like a bird. The vertebrae is full of hollows and air sacs, just like a bird."

A kid steps forward and looks at the screen then towards Steve with an unimpressed look. "That really doesn't look all that scary. It looks more like a six-foot turkey."

The group's eyes go wide and Bucky sighs. Steve's jaw clenches and he steps forward, eyeing the kid. 

"Alright. Let's try something. Try to imagine yourself in the Jurassic Period. You get your first look at the, what'd you call it? Oh yes, the six-foot turkey! As you move into a clearing, but the raptor, he knew you were there a long time ago. He moves like a bird; lightly, bobbing his head. You keep still, because you think that, like a T-rex, his visual acuity's based on movement, and he'll lose you if you don't move. You're wrong though. Not with a VELOCIRAPTOR. You stare at him, and he just stares right back at you. That's when the attack happens. Not from the front, oh no, from the side, from the other two raptors that you didn't even know were there." Steve walks around the kid and wipes his face. "See, Velociraptor's are pack hunters. They use coordinated attack patterns, and they'd slash at you with this," he takes a claw from his pocket and holds it in front of the kids face, "a six-inch retractable claw, like a razor, on the middle toe. They don't bother to bite the jugular, like a lion, they just slash here," he uses the claw to fake slash at the kid's chest and thigh, "or maybe across the belly, spilling your intestines. Point is, you're alive when they start to eat you. So, you know, try to show a little respect." 

The kid held back tears and just nodded. Steve smiled then turned and started walking back to the dig site, Bucky close behind. 

"If you wanted to scare the kid you could've pulled a gun." Bucky chuckled. 

"You want one of those?" Steve snorted. 

"Not that one, but a breed of Dr. Rogers would be interesting." Bucky laughed. 

Steve stopped and looked at Bucky. "Buck, you're a man, you can't have kids."

Bucky smiled and leaned up and placed a small kiss on Steve's lips. "While I appreciate the endless support, I was born in a woman's body. Might as well make use of it." 

Steve snorted, but before he could say anything Bucky stopped him. "Women aren't just baby makers, I know Rogers. Don't get started, you know what I meant."

Steve rolled his eyes and opened his mouth but was cut off by the sound of a helicopter. The two spun around and started running towards the dig site. 

"Cover anything that's exposed!" Bucky shouts. 

Steve runs towards the helicopter and yells at the pilot that just stepped out, he just points to a trailer on the other side of camp. Steve then turns and runs there. 

He slams the door open and growls when he sees a man rummaging through the fridge. The man turns and smiles at him, popping the cork of a bottle of expensive champagne.

"Hey, we were saving that!" Steve growls. 

"For today, I guarantee it." The man says with a smile. 

Steve steps forward and points at the man's chest. "Who the hell do you think you are?"

"Alexander Pierce, and I'm pleased to finally meet you in person, Dr. Rogers." He shakes Steve's finger, then blows the dirt off and turns back towards the kitchen area. "I'm glad to see my fifty thousand a year is being well spent." 

The door slams open once more and Bucky walks in yelling about the asshole who just covered their bones. 

Steve quickly turns and grabs his arm. "Uh, this is our paleobotanist, Dr. James…"

"Barnes." Bucky finishes, raising an eyebrow at Steve. 

Pierce raises an eyebrow at that. "I thought Dr. Barnes was a woman?"

Bucky's jaw clenches. "I'm a man."

Pierce raises his eyebrows. "Well someone back at the company is going to get an earful for that one." He says as he pours the champagne in his cup. 

"Buck, this is Alexander Pierce." Steve whispers. 

Bucky's eyes go wide at this. "Um, hello Mr. Pierce, I'm sorry for my outburst-"

"It's fine," Pierce smiled, "I can't imagine my entrance was all that good. Anyhow, I'm in need of your assistance." Pierce offered a glass to Steve. 

"What kind?" Steve asked, accepting the glass. 

"Well, I'll get right to the point. I like you," he looked at Bucky," Both of you. I can tell instantly with people; it's a gift." He sipped his drink before continuing, "I own an island, off the coast of Costa Rica. Leased it from the government, and I've spent the last five years setting up a kind of a biological preserve down there. It's really spectacular.  I spared no expense." He sighed, and leaned against the sink. "No doubt that sooner or later our attractions will drive kids right out of their minds." 

"What are those?" Steve asked. 

"Small versions of adults, baby." Bucky chuckled. 

"Not just for kids, adults too. We have plans to open next year. If the damn lawyers don't kill me first. I don't like them. Do you?" Pierce laughed. 

Steve and Bucky looked at one another and shrugged. "We don't know any."

Pierce laughed again. "Count yourselves lucky. I have a particular one that represents my investors, and he says they insist on outside opinions."

"What kind?" Bucky asks. 

"Well, your kind." Pierce says. 

"Why would they care what we think?" Steve asks.

"Well, it's right up your alley. Why don't you both come down for the weekend? Have a look around? I'd love to have the opinion of a paleobotanist as well. I've got a plane standing by." 

Bucky and Steve looked at each other. They weren't all that impressed with the vague answer. 

"Now isn't really the best time. We just dug up a new skeleton." Steve said. 

"I could compensate you by fully funding your dig." Pierce said, pouring himself another drink. 

"This is an awfully unusual time…" Bucky mumbled.

"For a further three years." 

Bucky and Steve look at each other with wide eyes and smiles then instantly hug one another and cheer at this. Pierce smiled and sipped his drink when he heard Bucky ask where the plane was.

Tags (open):

@xblackboard-monitor-vimes

@buckyssbabyy

@honestly-dontknow

[to-future-self]

This is very long and unplanned

Well, hello

So, I diverge from my parents. Like most adolescents, I do, yes, disagree with my parents. I know, I know, shocker.

I find it to be very scary, really. Suddenly, those who always had the answer don't have it anymore. And, once again, the fact that there is no certainty in life slaps me in the face again and again and again. Sometimes I worry I'll never get used to it, to life. I feel as if no one really does, but I don't think this is the uplifting mantra I want to carry throughout my existence. "No one will ever understand what we are supposed to do, because we aren't supposed to do anything!" Living isn't supposed to be meaningful, not by default. But I do know that the only one who can attribute meaning to life is the individual living it.

The fact that we are all individuals is the reason there will never be true peace. No, we're too different, all of us, in so many ways. This doesn't mean we can't coexist with those differences, but I don't believe there's any plausible scenario (and by that I mean, no thought reforming BS or total human annihilation) where everyone is quiet and happy. This is one beautiful and terrifying thing about humans, we're bound to noise, never to silence.

A community, whether we like it or not, is not homogeneous. It's a bunch of individuals that are scrunched together and not mixing, no matter how hard some try. Every single one of us is just weirdly unique, with our own objectives, likes, dislikes, good and not so good facts and beliefs. We're all just existing, and we all have the right to since we all have value. To exist is, supposedly, very valuable in itself.

I'll get to the value of a human being and MY OWN VALUE as a human being eventually, don't worry. I looove rambling in tiresome texts.

But let's get to the point, at least the initial one: Should all people be allowed to exist? Or, at least, should people be able to experience freedom or is it more secure to tame it in some capacity?

Now, what do I mean about that?

My parents are not anti-racists, they also are quite careless when it comes to cute 2020 surprise, Corona, and my dad is quite unfond of concepts such as feminism. Ok, they do sound like idiots, and that worries me because they're not. And it kills me that I can't love them less for it.

I came to the conclusion that one can't end an idea. Ideas are created and exist, immortal, but not undiscussable. Therefore, racism or sexism or any bad-ism will never end, as long as there's someone out there that truly believes it, or some kind of registration, either being through manuscripts and historical papers of some sort or just through the impact the past makes in the present and future (as a 16-year-old, my conclusions are not mind-blowing, they're mostly stupid and lame and not original).

And those bad-isms exist because of the conflict we, humans, will never get rid of. Bad-isms exist because some believe that others, different from them, shouldn't exist, or are not correct, or are inferior to them for some reason. Basically, you shouldn't exist, because you're not like me. And to disagree with those is plausible, right? Everybody should have the right to exist, even if harmony is unachievable. RIght?

That's when you get movement, revolution, opposition, which is great. Not easy nor pretty, even though some think so (yes, I'm looking at you, miss ˜I-Like-Romanticising-History". Did you enjoy Hamilton?) Those people who were massively mistreated through the course of human existence are screaming, and the world starts to notice their voice. And it's just so fucking amazing, even if things aren't fixed, and most likely never will. Things are slowly getting better. Hurray!

Hurray?

Now, I'm no expert in social sciences. Actually, I'm no expert in anything, I'm sixteen. But it is bizarre to see how people have a hard time looking past their own nose. Me included, obviously, but let's talk about that later. Ok, things got better, but they're not good. It's not very difficult to find some numbers stating how many black people die every day because of cop violence, or how many women are being abused every day in any social sphere they're inserted in, or how many trans people are beaten to death every day because of their identity. And that's me not remembering many, many other examples of how things are not alright. We're not walking on sunshine. However, to those who do not really experience any of it, or care to know about it, this is very foreign. Those are people who look at the past, think "Yikes. Good thing the world is not like that anymore!", and go live their lives carelessly. They don't see anything wrong with the now, now is good, and they don't understand how there are people who are still complaining! Hello-o, you got your rights, shut up already!

That, gentleladies and gentlemen and gentlenon-binary, is my father.

And that same father feels like he has no right to be wrong, or of disagreeing with people. He's terrified of the idea of limitation of freedom, he thinks it will lead to some kind of new dictatorship, and "they" are already working on it - "They" being the masterminds behind a to-be controlled world of some sort. Therefore, according to my dad, we can't get someone arrested for thinking the most absurd or saying the most absurd, because 1. They haven't done anything tangible yet, 2. Even if they're complete and utterly disgusting, they have the right of believing and saying whatever they want.

I feel as if this is the main ideological conflict we have nowadays (I'm not sure, I don't know way too much about the world to have an opinion, but we'll go back to that too). We have people who want to diminish, control, or even exterminate others, but, if they don't effectively do anything, should they be punished? As someone who isn't affected by many of the violence in the world today, I don't know.

Because I know there's nothing I can do to stop it from happening, bad-isms are always going to be there, but we need to keep trying to make them almost nonexistent. But then, you can't convince people, or explain to them, the damages of something through violence. This type of change can't happen through force, because it won't clarify anything to those who don't know or don't care. This doesn't mean passivity, but it means effective dialogue and loads of patience and, honestly, that's really hard too. I don't think there will be many people willing to persist in a (most likely) one-sided conversation with their abusers. And that's to say that all people can be convinced, which is not the case at all! People are stubborn, especially when they're talking about something they feel deeply about, such as their moral compass or their beliefs.

I'm afraid I advocate for different types of resistance or social change because I don't know what it feels like. Because I don't understand suffering. I understand anger, sadness, and guilt, but not suffering. Not truly. And then, I must not forget that I have been raised by my parents, who believe that yes, anyone can be proven wrong, and yes, you should be able to think freely, no matter how disgusting what you think about is. And I thought I agreed with that too until the day I realized I'm terrified of judgment, and again the day of the racist episode in my school happened.

Some guys had a Whatsapp group. I have no idea what they talked about usually, but I, and the entirety of my city (and the internet, obviously), got to see bits of a terrifying conversation. They were talking about what girls they would rape, but then they got to one in particular. Since she was black, she was worth less than a piece of gum, raping her was disgusting, she would smell awful and they would prefer to sell her on the internet. You know, like a slave. LOL.

People can be inhuman sometimes. Later, I would discuss this episode with my parents. It was sort of inevitable since it was all over the news, but it made me feel awful. Because "Hell, they're kids! Stupid kids, but they didn't do anything. Everything could be racism then, you know? Who is to judge what is and isn't? What will they do next, invade our privacy? Check if we are or aren't conforming to what 'they' believe is right? People say stupid shit all the time! What will 'they' do, arrest everyone?" Holy shit, the way they diminished the situation, the way they made it about something else! I know they don't agree with the kids, but what the fuck, no empathy at all? "The girl must hear that every day, she's fine" FUCK, WHAT ABOUT THAT IS FINE??

And then, well, I realized I'm not my parents. And then I realized I still love them. A lot. And that scares me. I hope I'm not a victim of unconditional love, it makes you accept the unacceptable. But I love my parents, and it will take more than them ignoring human suffering for me to stop. Like, my dad voted (and seems to be in love with) for a guy who thinks "people like me" should be beaten as a child to "take the gay out of them", and I still love him. It is fucking terrifying.

Then, I get to one of my greatest self-doubts. Am I critical of violent methods of action because, deep down, I believe there should be no action? People should just exist? What is the best next step to coexisting? Should voices be shut by the voiceless? Are voiceless shutting anyone up? Should people care or not? If we don't care, there's eternal apathy, but if we do, there's just a great war of interest. What is right? Who determines what is right? Can people be wrong if being wrong means suffering? Am I scared of knowing things because then I'll have to acknowledge I'm really, truly horrible and have been doing everything wrong? Am I that scared of disagreeing with what I believe is true? Of what people I respect and want to like me believe is true?

Unanswered. I think. I don't know.

Hi, I'm someone highly dependent on others' opinions about me. Not so long ago, I noticed that I lie. All the time. To the point I don't remember things I said, or can't keep up with them. 'Cause I need to be liked. I need so much to be liked I don't think I have opinions I haven't borrowed from other people. I can't act by myself, I feel the need of having someone tell me what to do, what is right, what is wrong, how to live. Shit, I ruined my friendship with the only people I talked to in 5 years because I projected all my insecurities and a sense of right and wrong on them and then blamed them for it. And now, while I'm trying to stop some of my bad habits, such as lying, I am so lost. So, so lost. And I don't know if that's because I lost my sense of identity once those who told me how to be are not there anymore or because this is me. Actually me. And I hate it. I feel as if anyone I knew before now was just meeting a facade.

I don't like what I used to like anymore. I don't read, don't draw, don't write, only sing when at the verge of tears, almost never listen to music, don't dance alone at 3 A.M., don't make pancakes, can't stand my birds, haven't changed clothes in almost a month, don't seem to find the most hilarious shit funny. I'm giving cooking a try, it's been very fun when I'm alone. That's another thing: being alone sucks, but it's how I want to be 99% of the time.

I always struggled with feeling good about myself. Because the bits that I knew were entirely me never seemed appealing to most people. Sometimes I can't stand myself so much that I make myself stop thinking, fearing that someone might think my thoughts are uninteresting. I never felt so uninteresting in my life. My biggest thrill recently has been planning how to organize the notes in my binder, and I'm not even good at it. If I could, I would shut up forever, because I never know what to say. I'm terrible at it, convos. Recently, I had this breakdown because I was searching "How to talk to people" on Youtube. I never felt so pathetic, so useless… So I cried for about 3 hours.

Actually, I always feel as if I am wrong. Nothing I do is ever right. It's very fun, this constant feeling that everybody hates you and is just keeping up with your bullshit since they're too polite to just say "You suck". It's so weird that I'm constantly telling myself that if people knew the truth about me, I would be completely alone. So I'm constantly telling myself how I should just cut everyone out of my life so they don't have to waste so much on me. And it's all in my head but if I don't talk to anyone, it'll come true, but if I do talk, people will just realize how much of a piece of shit and nothing I am.

My therapist once told me that I'm not obliged to be entertaining all the time and that I can be boring, but the truth is that I don't know anything. I am very much filled with just air and, if I don't make things up, people will be just stuck there with absolutely nothing. And then leave. And it will be all my fault, as it usually is.

I think the most pathetic recent thing I've done is to become possessive of this pillow I have. I use it to feel less lonely at night, sometimes I like to pretend it is my boyfriend and just hold it real tight (not really because then "I would be crushing him"). God, I've cried so much against this pillow and slept with it so much to the point I can't sleep unless I'm hugging something. And, sometimes, when my sister lies in the bed with me, I don't let her lie on top of it. Do you know when children have those clothes they get really attached to? I feel like that. Memory Boy, if you're reading this, I'm sorry if it's creepy. But it is the truth.

By the way, I'm so sorry if I talk too much and don't give you the chance to talk. Or if I'm never talking to you. This seems contradictory, but I miss you so fucking much and I really love you. I'm really sorry I'm not present, I'm just not myself enough or interesting and I really don't want you to see me like this.

My family is not really respecting the quarantine, and they convinced me to go out with them a few times. And I hate it. So much. I become paranoid that I'm part of the problem and I'll kill someone or that people will know that I'm out and scream with me and hate me and judge me and hate me. And my fucking dad thinks everything is fine and dandy and if he goes out without a mask he won't infect anyone and if he gets infected and dies it's fine because life goes on without him and this whole thing will be over in no time he can show you the fucking numbers because only 100 people are dying per day in this state, isn't this great? People are still dying, my dad doesn't seem to care because "you do you. If there are some idiots who don't care, let them die. Why does it concern you?" as if this isn't a situation where your actions affect the people around you and as if I shouldn't care if people die and as if I shouldn't care if my own fucking father dies because "they chose to do so to themselves". Fucking amazing. Thanks, Dad, I'm so less worried now.

And, when I refuse to go out, my family blames me for being no fun at all or "having a phobia of the outside.", since I have absolutely no reason not to go, everything is fine and dandy now, shopping malls are reopening and there's no way a second wave could happen, no sir. And, when I do go out, I try to wear things I would never wear and avoid phones so there's no proof I was outside. And, when I come back, I start searching for pictures of me between those pictures taken of people outside and feeling guilty, so guilty for going because if I didn't want to go, I could have not gone. And then I'll feel terrible and hate myself and cry and want to hurt myself, even though I won't. And just feel bad for it forever because it's my fault that I went outside and I could have just stayed, why didn't I stay, now everyone will hate me so much and I'll have contributed to the death statistics in my country and people will call me out for it and hate and never talk to me again and I'll have killed someone and made their family miserable and it will be all my fucking fault as usual because I could keep my ass home.

And oh my god, I'm so great. I'm so completely fine, I have nothing to worry about and I keep creating problems when I could just shut up. Sometimes I feel as if my feelings are wrong and far too much so I try to pretend they don't exist because, well, they shouldn't. I have no real reason to feel as sad or angry as I do all the time, especially when there are people with real problems out there and I'm just shoving the fucking great life I have against their faces and pretending as if it is the worst. When, actually, I make up all my problems and I should just stop whining and just be fucking happy already because I have no reason to feel sad and angry. I just wrote down some things that are on my mind but they're so fine and not a problem at all. I just really hate being too much.

Honestly, I usually re-read my letters to correct it and make it coherent, but I won't this time. I seriously blacked out while writing this and just am not willing to revisit right now. I've been writing this for three days now and, most of it I did in a row. Spent two days in the beginning and then an entire day just vomiting words nonstop. I'm sorry if it was long.

[evilelitest2]

Lets talk about @dismantlexsjwsxfeminist

So for the last few days, I’ve been getting into an argument with @dismantlexsjwsxfeminism, a man who claims to understand feminism but can’t name any of their terms.  Long time viewers know that I tend to do that....a lot, every month or so, I get into a multi post rambling argument with some moron who earnestly believes a 1930 group of film nerds secretly control the world.  Most of you have asked me at some point “Why bother, why engage with the literal worse of human nature”.  @archpaladin​ @chaotic-good-milk-hotel​ @doctorstarky​ @ailedhoo​

 @that-spaz-chick​ seems to find it fun actually, badass

But the point is, all of you have asked me at some point or another, “Why bother with these people, like you aren’t going to change their mind, you aren’t going to alter the conversation, why are you spending so much time on this?

Well, I turns out dear friends, there is a reason.  I am a vindictive bitter human being...wait no, two reasons.  Think of this like recon, I’m learning. Every conversation, no matter how long and weird and strangely repetitive (seriously these people will not answer simple questions) brings me more information.   And now I think I have enough to make my point.   And i’m going to use @dismantlexsjwxfeminism as an example here, I think we should really talk about who he is as a person and how he thinks, because it isn’t all that different from any other of these fucking degenerates think.  

  Because if you’ve interacted with them (@zennistrad understands what i’m talking about) they might seem like people who are trying their best to become cartoon bad guys from a hackneyed cartoon show and...well they are but there is a method to their madness.  

   See, the funny thing about MRAs/Gamergaters/Alt Right folks is that they can come off as interchangeable.   Like, they vary a little bit in terms of how many times they use the word Cuck and which issue they use, but at a certain point they are basically all the same terrible person.  Every argument with them tends to follow the same pattern, and I’ve seen this behavior before.  Talking to cultists, and talking to members of hate groups, they always have this weird, cyclical way of talking, and I want to use them today as an object lesson of how not to behave.  ;

        Step 1: Pretend to be reasonable.  

First they take an argument that looks semi reasonable if you don’t know the details and squint at it funny while drunk.   These usually involve either an individual feminist group or person doing something shitty (which we all know, damns the entire movement because that is how fucking logic work) or a legitimate issue that men actually face and they pretend that feminists are somehow responsible for running the US justice system (because clearly an overwhelmingly male organization is run entirely by women

The Lesson: Get into specifics, don’t deal in vague words, clarify your terminology

   Step 2: Muddle the Issues

If pressed on these issue by offering context, he will immediately phase himself as a defender of the oppressed and do a weird facsimile of a SJW even as he hates SJWs.  He is fighting for the rights of the oppressed and talks a great deal about the ways in which men suffer in the modern world.  Expect a massive list of links copy/pasted from one of the 5 redpill forums that are always on about this, but no context or knowledge within those links (most of which are either out of context, delibearely misleading, or flat out wrong, because you know..alternative facts).  Its like he is imitating progressives in terms of behavior, but here is the critical difference, he doesn’t actually care.  Like he will talk a lot about lack of male abuse shelters or how men get sentenced twice as long or male suicide rates, but if you ask him about that in more detail or talk about major contributors to those problems (like say, toxic masculinity), he will just kinda slink away or move on, or simply say that it’s “The feminists” and not address it.  And that is the core of MRAs, they don’t actually care about men’s issue, just like the Alt Right doesn’t really care about the plight of the working class or the Republican Party doesn’t really care about the Kurds, its sympathy bigotry, intolerance masking itself as simply a form of the oppressed.  

This is what @dismantlexsjwfeminismx is trying to spin, at least to himself, that MRAs are just another facade of progressive politics, just like groups that advocate Gay Rights sometimes run across groups advocating for women’s rights, so too does he imagine himself as another element of said movement except of course more and more intersectionality is becoming in vogue, GMS advocates and feminists learning to address underlying issues in each other’s camps and finding common ground.  And this is actually what @dismantlexsjwxfeminism is the most afraid of.  

  He lives in a status quo that benefits him tremendously, and whenever groups challenge that status quo, they often fall into infighting rather than pool their efforts to challenge him directly.  This is happening less, one of the values of the internet is that various marginalized people are starting to take up each other’s cause as a common unifier, feminists realizing that BLM is something worth supporting and BLM is coming to the aid of muslim Americans.  I mean take this recent trans ban that Trump proposed on twitter (and I have no idea if anything will come of it), considering how small a group trans people are in this country and how much negative associates there are with them, I am honestly shocked by how universally strong the backlash was.  It might not seem this way because Trump is president, Brexit happened and the world is an awful terrible place, but progressivism is growing stronger and becoming more organized because at long last they have figured out the key to their dilemma, getting desperate oppressed groups to find common ground.

  The only one they haven't truly solved is the biggest of them all, getting advocates of racial equality, gender equality, and above all class equality to come together and work as a common unit.  Once that is solved, it is the effective end of conservatism.  

    And in a way, @dismantlexsjwsxfeminism knows this.  He knows that progressives talking to each other will bring an end to the social order he supports.  So he is adapting the guise of a marginalized person to undermine it from within.  Its ironic because clearly the current social order is also hurting him, we should view @dismantlexsjwxfeminism as something of a victim, he is clearly miserable, and  based upon the few bits of personal information he mentions on his tumblr, doesn’t seem to have very stable relationships, in fact his main friend group literally is a bunch of reactionary pricks.  He is basically in a gang, a really sad gang with no street cred who don’t make loads of money or get ton of chicks, but the mentality is the same, he is in a gang.  

And here is the real trick of his little scheme here.  By pretending to be a supporter of men’s issue, he is trying to attack feminism directly, but he is also trying to make feminists distrustful of anybody supporting men’s issues, which will make it less likely for more men to realize how feminism directly helps them.  He is poisoning the well on men’s issues, and it is especially noticeable, because he doesn’t actually care about men’s issue, he is basically an alien to anything involving compassion.  

See, he will cry crocodile tears at male victims of rape or abuse, but he will show absolutely no empathy for any other victims of any other context because...he doesn’t actually have any empathy for other people, including the male victims.  

So you see him post this shit and I don’t normally bother with trigger warnings but seriously, this might be a good time for it.

THank you to @doublecrimes​ for bringing this to my attention

So we have a person who is talking about how much rape hurts men and how little feminists care for the pain of men and yet...he is posting shit that basically says “Fuck you victims”  And that is pretty much a hallmark of MRAs, they basically mimics of compassion but show none of the follow through.  WHich is why for all of their talk of “Men get longer sentences” they don’t actually do shit to solve that, after all, feminists don’t run the justice department, they don’t have shit to do with men getting longer sentences, that was happening back in the 1500s when feminism didn’t exist yet. Because it’s not actually about helping men, or helping anyone for that matter, it’s the paper thin excuse that @dismantlexsjwxfeminism wears like a skin mask to justify to himself how awful of a person he is, anything he does is acceptable if he can pretend its for a cause.

The thing you need to understand about most reactionaries, is that they are generally miserable awful people who are in a lot of pain, for whatever reason, they aren’t happy with their lives right now, instead they are generally a pretty unhappy lot.  And the thing about being in pain, be it pain due to circumstances, or pain due to them fucking up, it doesn’t matter, people in pain can justify almost any behavior very easily. “I’m hurting, therefore i’m the victim” even as they do increasingly horrible things to other people, “I’m in pain, i’m the one who needs to be helped”.  You see this everywhere, from real life gang members, to terrorist members, and war criminals, it’s the same psychology ‘I suffered, so I’m always the victim, nobody else ever gets to be the victim”  

Lesson time: Don’t let MRAs poison the well on men’s issues, if you can address those problems, you can get a lot of men interested in feminism, the MRA movement is an elaborate trap.  

Step Three Conspiracy Theories

After you call them on it, they make broad generalizations about how much power feminists, have, how they all have a singular unified goal of destroying men, but they will resolutely not answer questions, clarify terms or narrow in on specifics.   They talk about feminists the way people who believe in Aliens talk about “The Government” it’s this force of evil that is simultaneously all powerful and deeply incompetent at the same, time, and it doesn’t really have motivations.  Like its evil effectively for its own sake, or because of some long term plan to oppress all men because reasons.  

And thats the thing about @dismantlexsjwfeminismx as a person, he lives in a world where everything is fundamentally simple.  Whatever problems exist in his life that cause him to spend massive amounts of time online trying to debunk feminism (and feel free to speculate), he feels like he has found the root of life’s ills, feminism.  For what ever reason, he has created this imaginary boogieman of a conspiracy called feminism which controls large swaths of the world but also never seems to get its goals accomplished.  I mean if feminists actually controlled the US government wouldn’t it be at least 50% women?  These questions are never addressed by @dismantlexsjwxfeminism and in fact he avoids questions like these entirely, he isn’t much of a questioning type, because remember, for him this isn’t really really about feminism, he is obsessed with fighting feminism but he can’t even name like, 4 prominent feminists who aren’t Anita Sarkeesian, he hasn’t read any feminists texts (and if you press him on it he will say he doesn’t have too….cause that makes sense…

No, he just need something to blame, some large force to say “THis is what is responsible for everything wrong in my life”  It could be feminism, it could be the Jewish conspiracy, it could be undertale fanboys, it doesn’t matter, @dismantlexsjwxfeminism doesn’t actually care about feminism except in how it provides him with a single force to blame for a complicated, uncertain, and chaotic world.  And this is basically why he is going to be miserable for a very long time, because the only way you can move on from pain is by processing it, and you can’t proncess it if you are externalizing it in a real life movement forever.

This is also why he likes Trump btw, its not because of Trumps policies or even because Trump is going to help him in any way, its because he can project his own desire to be a powerful aggressive rich person unto Trump.  Yes, @dismantlexsjwxfeminism is such a miserable person that he thinks Trump is strong, the most thin skinned person in the world, because at his core, @dismantlexsjwxfeminism is also thin skinned.  Also he is like, extremely sensitive about his intelligence, he is really really insecure about how little he knows and so a President who takes his own ignorance and weaponizes it appeals strongly to him.

And here is my last warning, there are going to be pole like @dismantlexsjwxfeminism living among progressive group, people who attach themselves to legitimate issues as an excuse to exorcise their own demons and we need to watch out for that, and to try to discourage that behavior.  

[star-fall-system]

"you wouldn't hate radical feminism if you just understood it!!!" actually your ideology isnt some flawless perfect angelic thing some people have different morals, one of mine being "let people do what makes them happy and meets their needs" most radical feminist ideology in my field of experience advocates against many things that make people happy or meet their needs (transitioning, bdsm, sex work, femininity, sometimes bisexuality, asexuality or polyamory depending on the person- all being one or the other) and believes that there is one correct way to exist as a person (cis and vanilla, preferably GNC and being gay is a plus). Terfs often believe that people who don't agree with them on things, for example a sex worker who prefers their job over other choices or a masochist or a traditionally feminine woman, are simply "brainwashed" or somehow otherwise Not Smart Enough to know what they really want and they don't ACTUALLY think that deep down. They believe trans people can be cured of being trans by simply choosing "not to be" (going back in the closet), quite similar to the conversion therapy happening to many trans kids to make them cis. Many of them falsely claim to be dysphoric or detransitioned, which has the side effect of nobody knowing who actually IS either of those things (when you have 15yos claiming to be detrans and people claiming disliking catcalling is dysphoria, who csn tell?), a great example of the lies used to push their ideology. The other thing that's strongly against my moral code is demonisation of minorities. Terfs generally resist the idea that maybe, just maybe, trans women are humans like them, and the presence of a penis does not make someone a rape machine. They are unable to comprehend that men are usually commiting the assaults in women's bathrooms, not trans women, although they may pretend. They can't comprehend the idea that maybe, just maybe, some people are attracted to aspects of a person othr than genitals (to oversimplify) and that for many, genitals are not the basis of attraction, and because of this, TERFs are quick to tell gay men and lesbians they're straight or bisexual and try to have them kicked out of safe spaces, which is, you guessed it, homophobic. Not only that, but Muslims are a common target, with a point towards sexist Muslim countries as if that makes it okay to discriminate against Muslims on the basis of being Muslim alone (forgetting that almost all religions have crap teachings that nobody follows. Christianity has just as horrible shit in the Bible, but I've only seen Muslims as targets, correct me if I'm wrong). Did I mention the racism that is invalidating the nonbinary genders of other cultures? No? Do I need to go on? So yeah, contrary to popular belief, most people are against the popular radical feminist movements because of their beliefs being absolutely shit, not because we're all stupid and unenlightened by your mighty Terf Gods. (That's cult rhetoric, thinking you're the only Enlightened OnesTM. Maybe that's why terfs are so insecure and can't go 10 seconds without calling trans people a cult.)

[violetsystems]

#personal

When all was said and done I was only in New York for about twenty four hours.  I remember thinking at the ticket counter I had a choice of looking at it positively or negatively.  The Muslim woman at the check-in recognized the fact my trip was to be horribly cut short.  She had hinted that she might be able to talk to her manager.  The reality of the situation was that it didn’t really matter to me.  I wasn’t going to gain anything other than the moment in front of me.  I was going to go anyway.  Nobody really knew why for sure.  I didn’t even really know to be honest.  I just had to get away from here.  I had booked a flight the night before for my birthday.  I was looking up various Fashion Weeks around the world and saw the days mysteriously collided.  So I was already another trip in when the news hit me one minute after the checkin window for my current flight.  I thought about how bad it would look to cancel my hotel.  I thought about how easy it was to take the train back, take a nap and a shower.  I thought about how if I didn’t stop at the bathroom and use the infant dressing table to organize my shit I might’ve checked in on time.  I also wouldn’t have run into the Trans person in the bathroom either.  That was pretty normal for me.  I would hope in 2019 people would understand it’s a bad look to be Islamophobic and Trans exclusionary in any context let alone the airport.  I can’t help that I was raised by both my grandmother and my mother to respect women.  How I express it doesn’t often look the same as other social justice warriors on the Internet.  Mostly in the spirit of Jane Addams I believe that the sphere of morals is the sphere of action.  I rode the train in with a Muslim woman as well.  Politicians break their neck to sit at the same table as me within an earshot over coffee.  The call center for some Democratic machine has my cellphone number on speed dial.  I walk off the plane onto the Q70 like everybody else.  Take the train from Queens with a couple of missteps to Canal street in Chinatown.  There on the ground somebody has torn the letters off the New York Transit Authority’s Wet Paint placard to reveal a contraction.  Broken English I’m used to by now.  Ain’t gonna happen.  Ain’t that some shit.  Ain’t you happy we know exactly who you are by now.   Twenty four hours in New York for me is some other shit.  Something nobody knows about unless you observe it.  Kind of like the Quantum Double-Slit experiment, the trolley problem or multitrack drifting.  You have choices.  You make choices.  Other choices reveal themselves to you as a result.  I’ve never seen Bandersnatch but I live Black Mirror these days in real life.  I’m also not getting sued.

I had to deal with a leak yesterday morning.  I made a joke moving furniture about the CIA.  I don’t work for the government.  When people ask my politics at this point, I’m sure they can empathize why I answer the way I do.  People were talking about their birthdays as we were walking up to the space.  I didn’t say anything.  I don’t really give up much information anymore about my personal life.  I don’t even know sometimes why I make the decisions I do.  I feel drawn to certain things.  Sometimes growing up in Chicago I’ve felt held back by other people’s perceptions of what I should be and where I belong.  My life is largely my life.  If anybody has learned anything about me it’s that people seem to idolize me without ever really talking to me, listening to what I say or including my actual consent.  They have this fairy tale narrative of me.  The reality of jumping on a plane to New York without much of a plan is that it’s far easier for people to intercept you in real life.  People move to New York to be seen.  I just get my ass on a plane and a bus.  I was sitting on the tarmac ready to leave when I discovered a good friend actually worked at Baohaus.  One of my good friends who I literally had a show with at Jane Addams Hull House hit me up a day later about the Fresh Pain shirts.  She connected me with a print shop in LA that does workshops and has a gallery.  I connected her with my friend at Baohaus.  They’re both Chinese.  They both have a high opinion of me.  She’s going there in a few weeks to visit.  I’ll be there a week or so later.  No plans again really other than to get away from the claustrophobia and paparazzi here back home.  I don’t really feel part of it at times.  But there’s times when I walk out my back gate into the alley at the same time as my neighbors and it feels like a sitcom.   I’m very aware we live in a society.  I’m also very aware much of it is hypocritical and neoliberal.  That’s a very loaded term for me.  So are communism and socialism.  If the only thing people remember about me is that I was a DJ then they’re forgetting how much activism I’ve done.  I’m easy to forget.  I’m practically invisible.  It is like a thick fog of war.  I slice through it like a ninja.  Never leaving a trace except maybe occasionally carving my name into your heart.  Metaphorically speaking of course.  The heart is a muscle and I’d rather see it grow than scar.  If you’ve got a lot of heart you can make it.  If you can make it in New York they say you can make it anywhere.  I say this sitting alone in my apartment Saturday morning without much of a real clue as to what to expect from all of it.

If we resurrect that word I’ve resolved not to use much of this is still anticlimactic for me.  I already know where I want to go.  I already know where I already am.  If left in New York for a weekend it’s apparent I’m on my best behavior.  Helping Chinese tourists get to where they need to go when I am in fact also lost.  Picking up on hidden cues from the TSA during security screenings.  Trying to work within the system as much as possible when required.  I felt welcome in New York regardless of whatever is going on with my life.  I felt like it was not only a place I belonged but a place where a person like myself was valued.  This is to say I don’t think I could afford to live there with my current salary.  There’s a very huge reality with that statement.  I can afford to visit often.  I don’t know that it would be that hard for me to find a job in New York.  I also don’t know if that’s what I should be doing.  The way I live my life right now is by staying open, available and transparent.  Mostly because I care about someone enough to project that.  It also is not like I don’t have reassurance that it’s valued.  I’m a citizen of the United States so it stands to reason it would be easier for me to move to New York.  I also am fairly well respected on my block.  I rode the bus up with my neighbor at four in the morning.  People on the streets always say what’s up.  Like real street shit.  That’s par for the course in New York.  Chicago can be a little more hardcore.  They don’t call it Chiraq for nothing.  I don’t ever feel unsafe in either city regardless of what kinds of traffic follow me at any time.  I also don’t really ask for any of this.  It does prove a very real point.  That you can be accountable in real life and have it go completely unnoticed by the pundits and cheerleaders for whatever movement you choose.  And that hypocrisy isn’t something I benefit feeding.  It’s a beast that comes back years later and bites you in the ass.  For me it’s a hulking cerebrus that keeps to my side like a hunting dog.  That’s my karma.  Maybe it’s just my reputation.  I was truthfully scared to go to New York by myself after all this.  Who would blame me?  I’m obviously floating in some very strange and interesting circles.  Been swimming in these currents for years trying to reach someone.  I’m in the shallow water now.  It was pretty deep for awhile.  Almost like I was drowning.  Maybe someday we’ll be on a beach together instead of a fishbowl.  I’d like to believe that to be true.  I believed New York would be good for me despite the setbacks.  I believe my birthday will be quiet and restful.  And I believe I already made you a valentine’s day card.  I’ve written more than my fair share of love letters to you since.  This morning is no different.  <3 Tim

[thatgirlinthephilippines]

Playing Nice

    Sports….uhhhhhhhhhhgggggggggggg. Am I right? I don’t get it. I know that’s a pretty generic statement, but it’s my reality, and it is insane how much people don’t understand or accept that conceit. It’s something that baffles and confuses sports fans to the point of indignant anger. “But its America’s pass time!” “ This only happens every four years!!!” “It’s the super mega championship sports extravaganza festival to which you are contractual obligated to care about!!!!!!!!!!!!! USA. USA. USA. USA.” Barf. My lifelong lacking of national pride aside, I think for most sports fans what’s frustrating is that there’s no real reason why I’m not interested. Some people look at a ball and see a world of possibilities, I see potential embarrassment and exertion. Put a professional display of athleticism in front of me and I will watch diligently, for a few moments. Inevitably though, I will drift away to distant thoughts, occasionally being snapped back by the inordinate amount of screaming and jovial movement of the crowd around me. It’s just how my brain works. I can’t focus on humanities various interactions with a ball.

     This lack of obsession was not loss on my father, who, for all intensive purposes, is an American Football fanatic. His team: The San Francisco 49ers. His god: Joe Montana. Highly despised traitor and disgrace to the game of football: Jerry Rice. Offense: moving to the ever despised and vile rival The Oakland Raiders. I was raised with the simple truth that we were a Niners family and with that came certain expectations. Game day is sacred, burgundy and gold is the greatest color combination known to man, and The Oakland Raiders and all of their fans are horrible people. (I suspect this last credo is a little racial tinged, but I’ll save that gem of social commentary for another post.) Regularly, my birthday was postponed so that we did not have to disrupt playoff season, and one special year I got a birthday / Superbowl party. Every 8 year old girls wildest dreams come true! If you think that’s sad, you should have seen the collective toddler scale tantrum thrown when is was revealed my cousin’s engagement party, planned months in advance, would be on the same day as a playoff game, determined essentially the day before.

     It may seem insane, and it one hundred percent is, but that’s just the way things are in our family. This is also incredibly mild compared to some. If you want to understand real fanaticism look to football (AKA soccer, and yes I am going to be the pretentious American that uses the name literally the entire rest of the world uses.) Being in Chile for the world cup was a next level sporting experience. I grew up going to games, and despite my short attention span for ball maneuvering, there is something very fun about the fury of a game day crowd. I have seen people cheer, scream, fight, and even riot over their team, but I have never experienced the level of emotional investment that Chile showed me during the World Cup. After a win, the streets were filled with songs and insanity, but after a loss I was shocked to find grown men listlessly wandering the streets straight up sobbing. The only time I had ever seen that level of emotion over a game was the last time the Niners lost The Superbowl and I honestly thought I would see my dad cry for the first time in my entire life. It didn’t help that he had installed 7 new TVs for the event and had to witness the crushing defeat from every possible angle.

     I am usually pretty good at comforting people in pain, but I honestly have no idea how to console someone distraught over their team not getting a ball past a line more times than their competitors. It’s just not in my wheel house. Weirdly, this is a pretty large disadvantage, as many humans seem to be of the opposite end of the empathy spectrum when it comes to strategic ball movement. It’s particularly crushing when, as a teacher, I am expected to engage with my students athletically. As you can tell, I don’t like watching sports, but I fucking hate playing almost all of them. I enjoy two sports, swimming and yoga. One of those is not a sport, and both of them involve me alone, cut off from the world, and zero balls. So, when my coworkers came to me and said we were going to put on a two day sports tournament you can imagine my full on ass clenching terror. This is essentially my worst nightmare. For two days I would have to summon the strength to endure HOURS of people bouncing, tossing, and smacking balls for points. Insert epic eye roll. I am a professional however, and I endeavored to complete this task with respect and gratitude.

     So, now that we’ve made it this far, I feel I should talk about the inherent sexism of sports. YAY! The fact is there’s little respect for female athletes and certainly none on par with the reverence men receive. Professional sports industries were created for and are dominated by men. There is not a single women’s professional sports league that comes even close to the level of fame and respect that any male league receives. Its shitty, and sexist, and not really a reason I hate sports, but it certainly doesn’t incline me to give them a little slack. Everyone else might be inclined to let this slide with a slight shrug and a what can we do about it attitude, but to me they’re all buying into the same patriarchal bullshit we’re always fed. I joke a lot about balls and fanaticism, but I need to point out that this is a real sticking point for me. This is the lens through which I view the world and it’s very hard for me to ignore that view just to let go and have fun.

     It was with all of this swirling in the back of my mind, and after nearly a full day of sports overload, that I sat down to watch the girl’s basketball tournament. Or, I should say, the one and only girls basket ball game we were going to get because the boys took too long. So, all the girls teams were combined into two that would face off for the revered title of champion. (smile and nod at the totally logical lack for respect for female athletes.) So ok, Basketball! Woooo. With the basket, and the ball, and dribbling and …free throwing? I have no idea how this game works, but I didn’t know how American football worked for the first ten years of my life and I still managed to enjoy going to games. How hard could this be?

     Very. Fucking. Hard. See, basketball is not really considered a girl’s sport here. It’s very popular but primarily as a pass time for boys. They take it very seriously, and are very good at it. Girls, on the other hand, rarely ever play, and that was the case for every single one of our female learners on the court, save one. A tomboy. Or trans man as we would say in the states. She (preferred pronoun) was amazing. ( I assume, she was amazing because she is male presenting and her outward masculinity gave her access to the boys club and thus the court. Fascinating, but this post is about me and my unyielding judgement of the world. So, I’ll  leave my conjectures on trans culture for another day.) One awesome athlete, however, does not distract from the spectacle of a bunch of girls trying their best, but inevitably being really bad at basketball.

     While the boys were playing there was a seriousness in the room, and apt attention was payed to every play. Once the girls took the court, however, the room was filled with waves hyena like cackles and insult tossing. To be clear, majority of the players were absolutely terrible at basketball, and I understand how that can be funny. I was left with this nagging feeling though that it wasn’t just that the girls didn’t know how to pass a ball well, or dribble properly. Rather, I felt that the sight of females on a court was such an absurdity that it could never be taken seriously. I know I am probably projecting a lot of my world view on all of this, but I guess that’s my trigger. I know that the boys were laughed at for every one of their sports blunders, and while that should ease my tension I think it only adds to it. Why is failure so funny? Why do we need to acknowledge that failure so intensely, and with mockery? And knowing that girls are never really afforded the opportunity, let alone encouraged to play basketball, why do we find it acceptable to mock their every blunder with such gusto? It’s maddening to me and it left me so angry I was ready to grab the ball and punt it out of the gym, despite years of blunders and embarrassment that proved I would never be able to complete such a task. So, I seethed. For 20 minutes I just tried to let it go, and I think that’s the hardest part of working in another culture. Letting it the fuck go. On a daily basis I have to tell myself, “Not my culture, not my call.” It’s so difficult sometimes to set aside what you truly believe are injustices and accept the world your in not as flawed and broken, but different and evolving.  

    At around minute 15, my fist were clenched in fury and I was moments away from grabbing the mic and making a teenage movie level declarative speech about inclusiveness and accepting one another, but with more screaming. Despite my rage lens though, I came to realize that while they never get to play elsewhere, and they may not be as revered as the boys for their efforts, my school was giving these girls an opportunity to throw a ball at a hoop. Also, this was a qualifying game and the winners would move on to throw that ball at another hoop, in a district tournament. That there were two trans students on the court and no one questioned or mocked their involvement and cheered just as loudly for their achievements as the rest. Most importantly, maybe I was being a bit of a judgy bitch. Everyone around me was having a blast and captain downer over here, sitting alone carefully outlining her verbal assault, was probably overreacting. Or maybe I’m right and the world sucks and people are terrible. It’s a toss up really.