#not to mention how white-centric most dress codes are

[jingler]

maybe it's just the neurodivergent in me but i really don't understand why you can't wear whatever the fuck you want to work. like there are an endless amount of cool clothes out there and the only kind im allowed to wear to the place i spend most of my time is a very specific bland and boring collared blazer and slacks type of look? i have to save any serving for the maybe one day a week i go out?

"oh wearing anything else is distracting" to who? we're all just staring at our computers all day anyway. are you really that pathetic that you can't do that while someone is wearing a skirt above the knee or a gothic corset in the cubicle across from you? forcing everyone into a polo shirt and khakis doesn't scream land of the free cah caw to me

[artificialqueens]

Blue Neighborhood Series: THE QUIET + DKLA (Jackie-centric) - Mac

AN: Thanks a million for the feedback on this series! It truly means the world to me. Thank you so much, guys. I hope you enjoy this part as much as the previous ones. As always, thanks to the incredible Meggie for putting up with me and beta-ing this work, she is a superstar, send her some love!

Summary: Jackie is doing her best to keep her head above water. But with a stressful home life and a stressful school life, the walls feel like they are closing in.

Jackie was a social floater. She could twist her skin into whatever people wanted her to be. Most of the time they just wanted her to be quiet, sit back and listen to their problems. Which Jackie was fine with. It meant no one was asking about hers.

Jackie’s family life was… complicated to say the least.

Her father and mother both knew she was gay.

But they pretended like they didn’t.

Where they would pester her older brother about girls every chance they got, they sat stone-faced when she mentioned she was taking Gigi to Homecoming. Well, not completely stone-faced. Her father coughed.

Jackie had given up the chance of exploring her sexuality in high school. Content to let bygones be bygones until college. That’s when she would really get to shine. Away from judgment from her peers and parents and teachers. She would be free then.

For now though, she was standing outside Gigi’s door. The younger girl appeared a moment later, long blonde hair up in a high ponytail clad in flared jeans with a crop top that definitely wasn’t up to dress code. Jackie rolled her eyes internally, knowing that there was virtually no way Gigi would get called out on it. She supposed there were just perks to being the skinny white femme of everyone’s dreams.

The two walked in relative silence over to Brita’s house.

Then they walked in relative screaming to school. Brita was going on and on and on about how horrified she was to hear the news and how terrible it was that Jan thought she couldn’t share the sordid details of her personal life with her friends.

Gigi didn’t comment much, other than a small nod of agreement here and there. Jackie just steamed quietly to herself.

She had her own thoughts about the whole endeavor. Which she happily kept to herself, thank you very much. It wasn’t any of their business if Jan was gay. It wasn’t any of their business if she was getting it on with the captain of the varsity basketball team.

Yes, they had been friends since childhood and yes, Jan had been there when Jackie came out, and yes Jackie had told Jan every possible detail about her life because she trusted her. And no, that kind of trust wasn’t easy to come by.

So maybe Jackie was a little confused. A little hurt even.

That must be why she felt so weird.

“Have you seen her at all this week?” Jackie asked, knowing the answer hadn’t changed.

Gigi gave her a weak smile. “Not since Wednesday, no.”

“Is she okay?” Brita asked.

Jackie rolled her eyes. “Well, considering she had the flu last year and came to school anyway to protect her perfect attendance record, I think it’s safe to say no.”

Gigi spoke softly, calmly. “Jacks, I know you’re stressed with the whole Jan thing, but—”  

“I’m just tired.” Jackie cut her off. “It has nothing to do with her. I just didn’t sleep well last night.”

Brita and Gigi dropped the subject for now, but Jackie could see on their faces that they didn’t believe her.

Jackie bid her friends adieu at their lockers and headed up the stairs to her own. She tried to shake the feeling of unease that accompanied her, but it wouldn’t dissipate. It sat in her gut and ate at her through the morning. Her classes passed in a haze. At times it felt like she wasn’t even real.

The pit in her stomach only grew as the bell for lunch sounded.

She headed toward the art room, hoping to find some sort of mental reprieve from the strange feeling.

She had no such luck.

Nicky and Crystal were flirt-fighting again. Or at least that was the term Heidi had given it. Nicky would pick something, anything to complain about, and Crystal would evidently rise to the bait and the two would bicker and one of two things would happen. Either they would eventually fall into a fit of giggles, or one of them would say something a little too flirtatious and they both would look away and poorly hide goofy smiles.

It was so sweet it was sickening at times.

Heidi was torturing Aiden by recounting her date with Jacob the other night, going on about how it’s only been three months but she really thinks he’s the one. Normally, Jackie would sit back and laugh. Watch as Crystal and Nicky danced around each other. Watch as Aiden got closer and closer to strangling Heidi with every word.

But today, today she felt like she was drowning. Usually, the art room was too warm in a good way. Cozy even. The breeze from the propped door offering a bit of relief from the stale air. But today it just felt stifling.

Jackie sat and ate in silence, letting her thoughts ruminate over the events of the past few days. The infamous picture. Jan’s weird behavior. Jackie’s weird feelings about Jan’s weird behavior.

“Are you okay, Jackie?”

“Hmm?” Jackie looked up at the sound of her name.

Nicky smiled softly, “I asked if you were okay. You seem quieter than usually.”

“Is it Jan?” Crystal chimed in.

Jackie scoffed, “Why does everyone keep asking me that? Why would Jan have anything to do with—”

“Because you’re in love with her,” Crystal answered simply.

Jackie’s stomach lurched.

Oh fuck.

“I’m not—”

Heidi cut her off, shouting from the other side of the room. “No, girl, don’t lie. You’ve been head over heels for Jan since we could talk.”

Jackie’s brain was still trying to compute. The pit in her stomach felt like it had swallowed her whole and her heart was beating a mile a minute. Suddenly she couldn’t breathe.“But I’m not… not in love with her.”

Her shock must have been apparent, because her friends’ expressions shifted suddenly from condescending to shocked.

“I thought you knew,” Crystal spoke quietly.

“How do you not know you’re in love with someone?” Aiden whispered.

“You’d be surprised,” Heidi murmured back in response.

Crystal elbowed Heidi in the ribs.

“Hey! I didn’t ask-”

“Shut up!” Crystal whisper-shouted. “Clearly she’s going through something and you wanna talk about—”

Jackie didn’t hear the rest of Crystal’s statement; she was too busy focusing on her feet hitting the ground as she ran out of the art room, down the hallway, and through the double doors at the end to gulp the outside air.

It didn’t help.

She still felt sick.

Love.

What a tricky little word.

Farsi has over 80 different ways to say love.

Eighty different ways in a language she had been speaking since birth, and yet Jackie couldn’t wrap her head around a single one that encompassed how she felt about Jan.

Love seemed too pedestrian. Too cliché. Too plain.

Maybe that’s why it never occurred to Jackie that such a simple sounding word could be related to Jan.

Jan wasn’t cliché or plain, the opposite actually.

But Jackie… Jackie was simple. She was cliché. So cliché in fact that she had apparently fallen for her straight best friend like the stupid lesbian stereotype she so tried to keep herself from becoming.

So she guessed it made sense.

Jackie shook her head to clear it. And when that didn’t work, she found her eyes searching her surroundings for anything else to focus on. Her gaze landed on two familiar faces in the distance.

Dahlia and Bryce sat close together under the bleachers. Jackie went to turn away, to shield her eyes from whatever shenanigans they were getting up to, when she noticed the open books in their laps.

Dahlia was pointing to a paragraph and talking with her hands. Bryce nodded along. He said something Jackie couldn’t make out and Dahlia nodded excitedly. She continued pointing out different sections of the textbook and Bryce went on to ask questions.

It looked like she was… tutoring him.

Huh.

Jackie couldn’t help her morbid curiosity, so she approached the two as quietly as she could. She ducked under the bleachers and inched ever closer to the pair until she could make out what they were saying.

“So, what you’re saying is I’m stupid and all I had to do was flip the fraction?” Bryce asked.

“Exactly,” Dahlia said.

Bryce chuckled and tried to sound offended, “Hey, you weren’t supposed to agree with that first part!”

Dahlia shook her head and barely hid a smile. “It ain’t about agreeing, it’s just facts. You pretty stupid. You lucky I’m not.”

“I really am,” Bryce said genuinely. Dahlia looked up to meet his eyes and Jackie could see something brimming under the surface. “I feel like I don’t thank you enough for this. But I really appreciate it.”

Dahlia broke eye contact with him and waved her hand as if to break the tension, “Yeah, yeah, I heard it before, you wanna impress your girl.”

So that’s what this was about. He wanted to be good enough for Jan.

And dammit if that thought didn’t hit Jackie in the chest. She knew the feeling.

Bryce sighed and ran his hand through his unkempt hair. “She’s really fucking pissed at me right now.”

“I would be too.” Dahlia nodded. “If you were my mans and I saw you comin’ back from somewhere with the school slut, I wouldn’t be too happy either.”

Bryce winced at her words. “Don’t say that.”

Dahlia gave a bitter laugh. “It’s true. They see you coming from the bleachers with the whole football team and assume you sleeping with ‘em.”

Jackie tried to inch closer but completely missed the giant tree branch right in front of her. She caught her foot on it, which caused her to trip and fall, letting out a curse as she hit the rough ground.

Dahlia and Bryce looked over at her with wide eyes and had the decency to even look a bit guilty. Dahlia was the first to come back to herself, snatching up her backpack and practically sprinting back into the school building.

Bryce lingered and offered a hand to help Jackie up, which she took gratefully.

The two stared at each other a moment. It seemed like Bryce wanted to say something, but he ultimately shook his head and settled for, “Hey, Jackie.”

“Hey, Bryce,” Jackie said.

Bryce coughed to try and break the sudden awkward tension and motioned to the still open text book behind him. “I’m not cheating on her.”

“I know,” Jackie said simply.

She never thought he would. Bryce wasn’t cheating. Didn’t have the brain power to cope with the guilt that came with cheating.

“Dahlia and I were—”

Jackie cut him off, “Studying, I know. I saw.”

“Can you tell her? Jan?” he asked, a hint of desperation creeping into his words. “I’ve been trying to call her but she won’t answer.”

Jackie shook her head. “She’s not answering me either.”

Bryce looked shocked. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Jackie said simply, suddenly fighting back tears.

“But you guys are…” He trailed off.

Yeah. Jackie wanted to say. Yeah, they were. And they had been that way for so long that now, now that they weren’t, she didn’t know what to do or think or how to breathe.

Bryce just stood there. Looking at her.

Jackie just stood there. Looking back.

Until he rallied the courage to ask what she knew he had wanted to ask since they had locked eyes.

“You think it’s her? In the picture?” Bryce asked.

Jackie nearly screamed.

“No,” she answered truthfully.

She didn’t think it was Jan. Hadn’t even considered the possibility that it could be Jan until Wednesday. And even then, Jackie still couldn’t wrap her mind around it because Jan was straight. And Jan was Jan.

But even still, Jackie couldn’t stop her mind from running away with the alternative. The alternative being that it was Jan in the picture.

And that alternative made Jackie’s stomach twist up like a balloon animal.

“Me either,” Bryce spoke softly, pulling Jackie from her thoughts.

The two sat in relative silence for a few more moments before Jackie mentioned that they probably should be heading back.

Practice after school went about as well as expected, with Jackie, Brita, Gigi, and the rest of the seniors taking turns leading the team through exercises and routines. Jackie couldn’t help but pick up on the feeling of defeat. They had already been pushing their luck with one flyer down and no coach, but now that Jan wasn’t there it just felt hopeless.

Jackie asked her mother later that night if they were coming to regionals.

Her father coughed and her mother danced around the word ‘no’ for half an hour or so.

Jackie just rolled her eyes at her mother’s antics. Taarof, the Persian word and Iranian principle of not saying what you truly mean, but the group understanding what is actually being expressed. Her mother meant no, but she never said it outright.

By the time Jackie finished dinner and her homework, it was nearly midnight. She sighed at her clock and willed that it would turn back. Willed that it would turn so far back that it would undo whatever weird spell she seemed to be under.

She had no such luck as the clock ticked on and on, and Jackie’s mind only got more cluttered. After twenty minutes of staring at her ceiling and praying that her mind would empty, Jackie gave in. She grabbed her car keys from the kitchen counter and left her house without a second thought.

Jackie got in her car and just sat for a moment. She stared at the radio and the steering wheel and when she blinked, she was outside Jan’s house, not remembering having driven the short distance across the street.  

It was raining, Jackie noted after a minute, pretty hard actually, and if Jackie were in her right mind, she would worry about how her tires really needed replacing because she kept hydroplaning. But Jackie clearly wasn’t in her right mind because before she could think too hard, she was calling Jan.

The younger girl finally picked up after the third call.

“Come outside,” Jackie said firmly.

Jan sighed, and it spoke volumes. “Jacks-”

“Please.” Jackie startled herself with how broken her own voice sounded.

She heard Jan inhale slightly on the other end before she hung up.

Not a moment later, the blonde’s head appeared, and she ran from her front door to Jackie’s car, holding the back of her jacket up to shield herself from the rain. She threw open Jackie’s car door and settled down in the passenger seat. If it were any other day, Jackie would lament about her seats getting ruined, but with Jan sitting beside her, hair thrown up in a messy bun with no makeup and not a trace of a smile on her face, Jackie really couldn’t give a damn about her seats.

Jan sat in her passenger seat and just looked at her for a moment, taking her in almost.

“Hey,” Jan said finally.

Jackie’s heart hammered in her chest, as it normally did when Jan was around. Only now she recognized the pounding for what it truly was.

“Hey.”

I love you. Jackie thought.

Jan sighed and broke eye contact.“I’m sorry everything has been so crazy recently.” She looked back over to Jackie. “I’ve just not been feeling well, but I promise I’ll be back soon, and the team has my full attention and I—”

Jackie stopped her, “You don’t have to explain anything, okay?”

I love you. Jackie thought.

Jan nodded and opened her mouth to speak, but Jackie cut her off again.

“But don’t lie to me and act like everything’s fine.”.

Jan looked down at her feet on the floorboards, then to the window where the rain was making patterns on the glass.

Jackie didn’t know what else to say. So she just drove.

She drove and drove and drove and let her hands and feet do the thinking. Traffic was light, the rain was heavy, and the silence in the car was loud. They passed stores they used to spend all day window shopping at, houses of their classmates that they didn’t talk to now, the old library they never got any studying done at, the roller rink where Jan broke her arm, the neighborhood basketball courts they used to lay on until the sun disappeared and the ground got too cold.

They drove for so long that Jackie surprised even herself when she came to a stop.

She looked up and realized she was in their school parking lot. It was empty, save for the lone golf cart in the far parking space.

Jackie unbuckled her seatbelt, driven by some force that she couldn’t all together name. She opened her car door as the wind and rain beat against it.

“What are you—”

Jackie didn’t wait to hear the rest of Jan’s question, instead focusing on her steps, careful and measured as she got a good distance away from her car before letting her mind shut down and her body recoil as she let out a long and impossibly high scream.

The storm around her did a good job at mostly covering the intensity of her voice, but Jan still heard and came running at the sound.

“Jacks, are you okay?” Jan had to practically shout to be heard over the storm.

Jackie shook her head. “No,” she answered as honestly as she was able. “But that felt damn good.”

Jan looked at her concerned. “You can’t do that you’re gonna—”

Jackie cut her off with another ear-shattering scream.

Jan’s entire body winced at the sound, but Jackie could see something in her eyes simmering just under the surface. A fire. Envy almost.

“C’mon, give it a try,” Jackie yelled over the thunder crashing closer than before.

Jan shook her head. “I’m not gonna—”

Jackie screamed again. This time feeling her throat constrict and the sound fighting to get out. She sounded crazy. Broken and insane but Jackie swore she had never felt more alive than she did right now.

“Jackie!” Jan scolded.

Jackie just screamed again, louder, and couldn’t help the manic smile from spreading across her face. For the first time since they had known each other, Jackie felt her chest lighten in Jan’s presence. She felt a weight being lifted like she could finally breathe.

Jackie looked over to Jan who still looked hesitant, but after a firm nod from Jackie, Jan let out her own scream. It wasn’t nearly loud enough in Jackie’s opinion. And she said as such.

“Louder! You’re a singer you can do better!”

Jan shook her head and Jackie could barely make out a bitter laugh Jan gave at the notion. Jackie just shrugged and opened her mouth to yell again, when Jan stopped her with a hand. “Fine, I’ll do it. Just give me a second!”

Jackie mimed looking at a watch that didn’t exist and Jan bit her cheek to hide a smile.

Jan let out another scream, louder this time, a bit more unhinged.

It still wasn’t right.

Jackie walked closer to Jan so that she didn’t have to shout as loudly as before. “Everything that’s happened,” Jackie said, breathing heavily, “everything that’s made you fucking crazy, this week or your whole life, channel it. Right now. Let it out.”

Jan nodded her head in understanding.

Then she let out a scream so loud, Jackie swore the lights at the football stadium should have popped. She let out a scream so powerful Jackie was surprised she wasn’t knocked back by the force. She let out a scream so guttural that Jackie’s heart nearly broke in two at the sound.

Jan looked up at Jackie with wide eyes, shocked by her own pain almost.

Jackie just beamed at her. “That’s more like it,” she chuckled.

After the initial shock passed, Jan could stop from falling into a fit of laughter. Jackie couldn’t help but do the same.

They spent an immeasurable amount of time laughing and jumping around like idiots in the rain until a flash of lightning struck a bit too close for comfort. They screamed at the proximity and bolted to the car, still laughing and out of breath.

They collapsed in the seats and fell into another round of giggles until their stomachs tired and their jaws ached.

Jackie looked over at Jan, with her head thrown back against the car seat, mouth upturned for the first time in what felt like ages, and Jackie’s heart soared in her chest.

And for a brief second, Jackie thought that maybe, just maybe, everything was going to turn out fine.

[candleheartwitch]

don’t mind me, posting my comparative religion final essay here for sharing and archiving purposes.

Polytheism, Choice, and You

        Across the world and throughout human history, people have relied on religion for comfort, aid, and purpose. The type of religion one is drawn to can vary wildly depending on culture, lifestyle, personality, and many other factors. The biggest conflict in religion is the question of God: is there one god, two, or more? Are they all-powerful, all-knowing, and ever-present? Are they some or none of those things? We will most likely never have satisfying, concrete answers to those questions, but we can still choose our own path and decide what religion, if any, we want to follow. The choice is easy for some, and yet some people don’t think they have a choice at all. The biggest dichotomy in religion is mono- versus polytheism. Some are neither, like Buddhism, while Hinduism seems to be both. In Hinduism there are countless deities, each serving a purpose—there are house spirits, family gods, and community gods on top of the “basic” gods of the religion. Each is important to different people. Each Hindu devotes themselves to different deities, even though they all believe roughly the same things. In our Western, Christian-centric culture, it can be hard to understand why anyone would choose to worship in that way. We can find it difficult to wrap one’s head around polytheism and transactional worship at all. Why would someone worship a god that isn’t necessarily all-powerful, that doesn’t necessarily care if you worship them at all? Every polytheist would give a different answer to that question, but there seems to be one consistent reason. Polytheism and transactional religions preserve a person’s agency and grant choice—many people find it easier to be fully devoted to a god or gods they chose themselves.

           People who leave Christianity often say that they did not enjoy the feeling of subservience and inferiority impressed upon them by the religion. Christianity and Islam view religion as a system of debts and inherent superiority—God has already given humanity his love and help, and worshippers spend their lives trying to repay Him and stay in his good graces. Not only that, but god is worthy of worship simply by the fact that He created the world; He is the perfect, omnipotent, omnipresent force that keeps everything running. One is supposed to worship Him simply because He is the One True God. In polytheistic religions, the deities generally aren’t portrayed as perfect, not are they imperfect—rather, they are simply forces of reality that should not be questioned. In Hinduism, it is often much more a transaction-based relationship between devotee and deity. Worship is part of a deal struck with a specific god; the devotee performs a ritual or makes an offering in exchange for a service from the god (or insurance for the future). Of course, the relationship is not totally heartless. Many polytheists feel a deep personal connection with their gods, some even claiming gods have communicated directly with them. A Hindu might bathe a god’s likeness in milk, or present a priest with food to be blessed; these are done in service to a god, as the “price” of devotion. If a polytheist does not fulfill certain things, they might be able to count on their deity when they need something, or incur the righteous wrath of a higher power. In contrast, a religion like Buddhism that has no deities sees the self as both a natural force and a perfect being, and requires neither subservience not payment. A Buddhist might see the worship of a deity as a crutch keeping someone from realizing the true potential of the individual.

           In Hinduism, the gods are much more involved with the gritty, every-day realities of life. They make up every force in the universe, with little regard for morality. Often, one god has both “good” and “bad” attributes; this is why polytheistic religion does not tend to apply such concepts to their gods or to their practice. For example, the Greek god Apollon is the god of both medicine and plague—when people begin to get sick, worshippers wonder what they did to anger Him, and try to appease Him to He will heal the afflicted. The plague is not seen as an “evil” phenomenon. Rather, it is simply the way things are, or even a punishment for not worshipping correctly. In Christianity and Islam, Good and Evil are separate forces, and only the Good is worshipped. The Abrahamic God is transcendent; He is perfect and good, and thus rarely delves into the world of men, which is imperfect, dirty, and at risk of evil. That idea is another thing that leads many people to convert to polytheism—they feel like the Hindu, Greek, Egyptian, Norse, or other deities are more relatable, and thus make more attainable role models. In Christianity specifically, it is Satan’s proximity to the base desires of humanity and temptation that give him Evil characteristics; he fell from Grace to Imperfection. This creates the narrative that it is impossible for human beings to every truly be good while they are human, and that the only way to do good is to get as close to God as possible. For some people, this mindset is helpful—it aids in the search of goodness, and helps people to kick harmful habits and behaviors. In a tradition where the end result is to be as Perfect and Good as possible, temptation away from Perfection is temptation toward Evil. The only way to become perfect is to remove oneself from Earthly desires. As it stands, humans are sullied by Sin and dissatisfaction, neither of which plagues the perfect God. In pagan polytheism, the gods are not guides in morality, and neither do they preach arbitrary rules for behavior. Very little is black-and-white, good-or-evil, do-or-die; this allows people to worship casually without getting bogged down in grand questions of morality. Hinduism is complicated, however, as there is a destiny or code that is ascribed to each person (called dharma), but it is not dictated by the gods; this is why Hinduism is considered both mono- and polytheistic. The universe determines a person’s dharma, and their gods determine everyday worship and behavior. The two concepts are inextricably entwined, and a discussion of gods in Hinduism is not complete without at least a mention of dharma as well.

                       The problem of idolatry is also a major division in religion. At one extreme, Islam does not allow any images of God or the divine, and images of the prophet are only allowed sometimes. As a result, mosques tend to use calligraphy of Quran passages as décor, like Christian churches may use images of Jesus. Christianity forbids idolatry, though it is defined as the worship of things other than God (which includes polytheism). Catholicism and Eastern Orthodox churches permit the use of religious images, and Catholics often claim patron saints, thought they claim they simply honor the saints. Protestants generally prohibit “worshipping” imagery or saints, though they often use the image of the cross as a symbol. This extreme aversion to icons is why many people in the West have trouble understanding Hindu practice; Hinduism is all about icon worship. In temples and in home shrines, each god honored there must have a likeness, generally a statue or figurine. This figure is known to be a vessel for the deity, and thus must be taken great care of. It is washed, “fed” by placing offerings of food on its altar, dressed, and sometimes carried to different places in the temple or home. This is a physical symbol of worship; as devotees honor the icon, so are they honoring the god. It is also known that if one has an icon in one’s home, the god has a presence there. These symbols only become real, however, when they are consecrated by a priest. The home becomes sacred once a priest performs a blessing upon it. This allows temporary symbols: as long as a priest blesses an object (which might be a carving, a drawing, a tree, or other), it is believed to be the deity incarnate. It is considered inappropriate to view an idol without its ritual adornment, as that deity is not ready to be seen.

           Perhaps the biggest draw to polytheism is the customization, so to speak. Many people who grew up in Christianity describe that they felt trapped; they wanted to do good, and to be a good person, but felt that Christian rules weren’t the right way. They were taught that there is one way to be, and if someone strays from the path they are doomed. People who convert to polytheism say they were drawn to the freedom to choose what and how to worship, as well as what and how to be. In an informal interview on Instagram, young adults expressed their displeasure with the stringent regulation in Abrahamic churches. Instagram user Cassandra (@im_a_cas_tastrophe) said that monotheistic religion “didn’t appeal to my need for freedom in spirituality and sexuality…. It’s more like apprenticing myself to an amazing, reputable teacher and dedicating myself to learning about them and their craft.” User @imtherealest_mermaid talked about the expectation of worship: “…because yes I want to worship and devote myself to them but I’m also not about that blindly follow with nothing in return sort of thing [sic].” User @deathbydivination exhibits how varied polytheism can be: “For myself it’s a very deep mutual partnership…I actually have equal footing in my relationship with my deity and unlike monotheism where it almost feels like they hold ultimate power over you….” In pagan polytheism there are certain rules, but the devotee is free to choose which pantheon, deities, and rules fit their idea of religion. Worship in Hinduism is a bit more prescribed—the religion is thousands of years old, after all—but individuals are still welcome and expected to choose a personal deity they feel the most connected to.

           Religion is the “big question” of human history. Atrocities, miracles, and good deeds have all been committed in the name of every religion under the sun. Humanity will never agree on which tradition is “correct,” nor will we ever decide if religion is “real” or not. Despite the growing numbers of atheist and non-religious people, religion will continue to give people comfort, purpose, and a sense of community, just as it has for thousands of years. While monotheistic, Abrahamic religions are still the largest populations in the world, polytheism continues to restore agency to those who feel left behind by other traditions. Hinduism as well will continue to endure, and as more Hindus emigrate from India the religion will spread, and who knows—maybe it will gain a large convert population.

[eme-elo]

Bout to start drama

Topic: white people with dreads

Honestly, I don't care what kind of hair you wear as long as it is not intentionally offensive (like shaving some racial slur into the side of your head or some shit). However, some people get really fucking butthurt at the sight of a white person wearing dreads, screaming "cultural appropriation!" And the white person may get rude about it and start screaming shit like "I can wear whatever hair i want" without knowing the significance of their choice because, ya know, privilege.

And I'm really tired of this fucking argument because neither side has ever provided fucking support to their beliefs. They just start spewing shit out their ass on the spot and saying the shit above. But after actually thinking of the reasons for both sides, I realized neither side has the right to bitch since they are both guilty of the same crimes. Y'all got an issue with white people wearing dreads, but don't have a problem with black people straightening and bleaching their hair.

But wait, there's more. I'm not gonna make this a one sided argument. I'll provide proper reasons behind this shit for both sides. Because on this page, I scalp people equally.

So what up my white people, lemme tell y'all why you shouldn't wear dreads. Wearing dreads is part of the dress code for the Rastafarian religion, a very afro centric religion. If you don't know what the Rastafarian religion is, it is a religious movement of Jamaican origin holding that blacks are the chosen people, that Emperor Haile Selassie of Ethiopia was the Messiah, and that black people will eventually return to their Africa. (I got that straight off google). So you, as a white person, wearing dreads can be seen as disrespectful since you, the descendant of those who enslaved God's chosen people, have no connection to the religion and have no reason to take part in the practice.

But the thing is: if white people can't wear dreads, how come black people can wear straight hair? Hmm. Lemme answer you butt hurt white person. The reason black people can do that is because the inventor of these hair straightening products is a black woman. Madam CJ Walker invented invented most of the hair care products used by black women today, such as perm and hot comb, that straighten their hair. So by black people straightening their hair, their just keeping up the legacy of one of the few African Americans that made it big in times in such hard times for their people.

But hold up black people. Like I said, all people are scalped equally. So my question for you is why did y'all want to straighten your hair to begin with? Why couldn't Madam CJ Walker just not invent this and leave straight hair to the white people?

Because wanting to wear straight hair is still appropriation, but rather than it being cultural, it's more of racial. If white people can't imitate your hair, you can't imitate theirs. Not to mention, dreads is just a hair style. Y'all are trying to copy a fucking genetic trait.

Bitch: "B-b-but aren't there black people with naturally straight/blond hair?"

Yes, bitch, there are. There are black people in the Middle East that have naturally straight hair. Not to mention, black people from the Caribbean also have straight hair on occasion. Also Melanesoans have developed their own genes for blond hair, separate from white people.

Bitch: "So what's the issue with black people wearing straight/ blond hair?"

Well, you see the reason why Middle Eastern and Caribbean blacks have straight hair is because their gene pool was highly influenced by racial mixing. Middle Eastern blacks got their straight hair from hundreds and thousands of years with mixing with Arabs. And the Caribbeans got their straight hair mainly from the Latinos and Indians that were also enslaved in the Caribbean. As for the Melanesia one, there's nothing to elaborate since it was given up there. But if you aren't of Melanesian descent you shouldn't dye your hair blond since you have no connection to their ethnicity (I'm using your own logic against you)

So you using these people as your scapegoat is also appropriation. And even if you are part of the ethnic group, you having to straighten your hair by artificial means is enough reason to not straighten your hair since, even though you are part of the same culture, your genetic coding isn't the same as theirs and you are trying to imitate them. That's like those "transracial" people. They aren't intentionally causing offense, but their trying to assimilate into a group racially different from them.

So you see, both sides are fuxking guilty and neither have the right to bitch. This is why I think all people have the right to wear their hair how they want, because they'd be hypocritical if they said a certain group couldn't wear there hair a certain way.

So goodnight and fuck you

[thehandmaidtale]

Section XII

Hey reader!

In section twelve, we get to find out what happened to the important women in Offred’s life before becoming a Handmaid. There’s also a chance of a new love interest for Offred, who finally seems to be starting to get her mind together.

Summary

Section XII- Jezebels (Chapters 31-39)

Present:

While speaking of the resistance on a shopping trip, Ofglen tells Offred that the code word for the organization is “Mayday”, but that she should use it carefully in order to prevent being caught.

Upon returning home, Serena Joy tells Offred that she knows she has little time left to get pregnant. Serena thinks that the Commander may be sterile, and asks Offred to sleep with Nick instead. Offred is hesitant to agree, but Serena offers her a picture of her daughter. Then, she goes to see the Commander who now resorts to drinking while she visits him. The Commander, who is high in the chain of Command according to Ofglen, says that the formation of Gilead was necessary because the men were getting bored with women in the old society.

Some time after, Ofglen and Offred attend a “Prayvaganza” which is a ceremony in which the daughters of the Commanders get married off to the Guardians. According to the Commander, these marriages give women happiness as they no longer have to deal with the abandonment or beating of their husbands as in the past society. He says that arranged marriages work better than love marriages.

After the service, Ofglen says that the subversives know that Offred sees her Commander in secret. She advises Offred to learn as much as she can about him, and to inform her once she does.

That night, Serena gives Offred a picture of her daughter. Offred sees her daughter smiling in a white dress, the same colour as the Wives’ daughters wear, and thinks that her daughter probably doesn’t miss her. Then Offred goes to see the Commander, who tells her to put on a revealing costume and makeup since he is taking her out. Offred puts on Serena’s winter cloak  They get into the car with Nick, who does not make eye contact with Offred; this worries Offred.

The Commander takes Offred to a hotel, where many women dressed in strange costumes and other Commanders mingle. Offred is given a purple tag around her wrist, which marks her as an evening rental for the Commander. The Commander says that this hotel, although illegal, is necessary to satisfy men. While he’s off speaking to his friends, Offred spots Moira who is wearing a playboy bunny costume. Moira discreetly gives Offred the signal to meet her in the washroom in five minutes.

When the Commander returns, Offred asks to use the washroom. Outside the washroom, an Aunt tells Offred she has fifteen minutes. When inside, Moira tells Offred what happened after she escaped the Red Centre. She found a Quaker couple, who connected her to the Underground Femaleroad. The network tried to get women out of the country and into safety. She was apprehended by the Eyes right before she made it onto a boat. She was tortured and showed videos about the Colonies. Moira says she saw a video of Offred’s mother in one of them, working in the fields of toxic waste. Moira was given a choice between the Colonies and the club, called “Jezebel’s”. Moira said she chose Jezebel’s because the life expectancy in the Colonies was three years, and at least they gave her face cream here. She tells Offred to consider coming here as well, which upsets Offred since she is sad to see Moira not being her usual rebel self. Offred comments that she never sees Moira again after this encounter.

Later, the Commander takes Offred into one of the hotel rooms. Offred feels no excitement at the situation, and tells herself to try to remember what it feels like to enjoy sex.

Past:  On a shopping trip, Offred and Ofglen see a man at the Wall with a J hung around his neck. They are confused by it because if the man were Jewish, he would be marked with the Star of David. All jewish people were told to either convert or to emigrate to Israel when Gilead was formed. A similar case went for Catholic nuns, but young nuns were given the option to become Handmaid’s if they converted. Old nuns were sent to the Colonies.

Offred remembers when her and Luke tried to escape using fake IDs. The Guards at the border picked up the phone and called someone after inspecting theirs. Luke quickly turned the car and drove away, and then they took it to foot to try and shake off the Guards.

When in the hotel room, Offred excuses herself to use the bathroom. She recalls her mother, who she assumed had been dead. Luke and Offred had gone to look for her mother in her apartment after she hadn’t visited in awhile, and found the apartment in a mess. They didn’t go to the police, since Luke no longer trusted them. Offred is sad that the Colonies took away her mother’s spirit.

Analysis

Characters:

Offred’s emotions and feelings are the most grounded they have been throughout the whole novel. She feels sentimental towards her mother and Moira, and longing for her daughter. These feelings are connected to love, which is what Gilead has been depriving Offred of. Love is important to Offred, since in her mind she believes that falling in love is always better than an arranged marriage. We see Offred tying the connections between the three women from her past. These connections can allow her mind to rest and contemplate less on the past and moreso on the present. The only person left is Luke. I don’t think Luke really matters, though. I think she needs a male to tie a connection to instead. This male might be Nick. If the sexual tension between the two is real, as Offred says it is, then maybe she can find herself within Nick. Perhaps if she can trust Nick, she can trust men as a whole and in turn trust humanity to one day be just.

Nick is a Guard, but it is possible that he’s more than that. Why is it that the Commander trusts him so much, as to illegally take Offred with him to Jezebel’s? Either the Commander is so hung up in his own rank that he thinks he is above the law, or Nick is hoping to gain something from the Commander. Nick, from Offred’s unreliable perspective, seems to be disappointed in Offred for going with the Commander to Jezebel’s. Does he actually like Offred or is Offred wanting him to care for her? If he cares, then why is he letting the Commander take her out?

Moira’s destiny is depressing, especially since she served as a symbolism of hope and resistance in the previous chapters. To know that the system has broken her in a sense only proves that Gilead is capable of working, and that is why it is a threat to us. I’m happy Moira gets to hook up with a lot of women though. Keep slaying, girl.

The Commander took selfish to a whole new level. Not only is has he cheated on his Wife multiple times, but he thinks it’s justified to do so. He says that men need numerous amount of women, which is why Jezebel’s exists in the first place. He was part of creating Gilead for the sole purpose that he and other men were bored with being able to get with women ‘easily’. He says phrases like “You can’t make an omelette without breaking eggs,” to make it sound like his actions were utilitarian. In actuality, they help a minute group of the population, old men, to be able to exploit women and young girls to alleviate their own ‘boredom’ that comes with women being sexually active.

Plot:

Now, we understand the formation of Gilead and what the society values, the Colonies, how Offred ended up where she is, what happened to Moira, Offred’s mother, and Offred’s daughter. The introduction of Jezebel’s changes our perception of Gilead. If Jezebel’s is illegal, why are so many Commander’s taking part in it? We don’t know much about the structure of Gilead’s government, but if Commanders hold a high rank and are doing something illegal then aren’t they under threat of losing their titles? There must be a higher status than Commanders, who have deemed Jezebel’s illegal. If Aunts are located in Jezebel’s, then surely it isn’t illegal. Perhaps this misaligning of values is illegal officially but legal practically as a gesture to complete the male-centric experience that Gilead offers.

We also learn about the Underground Femaleroad. This ensures that the resistance exists, and that the government is handling it. The Colonies are formally introduced as what may be a form of concentration camps: they’re full of toxic waste and use the labour of old and persecuted women. I’m curious to know if people of colour are also sent there, as we haven’t heard much of them in the novel.

Themes:

The church and the state: With new information on how Jews and Quakers were treated, we know explicitly that religious intolerance is rampant in Gilead. With the persecution of Jews and the use of the Colonies as concentration camps, Margaret Atwood must have used Nazi Germany’s setup as inspiration to the structure of Gilead. Rather than racial purity being the purpose, instead the goal of Gilead is to establish control on women. Hitler blamed Jews for the fall of Germany, and Gilead blames women and their choices in terms of their own sexualities for the country’s dire condition. Hitler solved it by getting rid of Jews, Gilead solves it by getting rid of choice.

Women’s role in society:

In Gilead, women who can’t reproduce are deemed worthless unless they are married to men of prestige. Old women are automatically sent to the colonies, and young women are to choose between Jezebel’s and the Colonies. Moira’s answer to the option she was given adds women empowerment to Offred’s narrative. Moira chose to be a prostitute rather than Handmaid. At least as prostitute, you have control over your own body. You get face cream. This face cream, which has been repeatedly mentioned throughout the novel, represents self-care. Moira and the other women in Jezebel’s are the only women who have bodies that are truly theirs, which is why they get to take care of themselves. Moira has something to gain from how she uses her body, whereas Handmaid’s only have their dignity to lose if they can’t reproduce. Jezebel’s challenges the idea that prostitutes have no self-respect, and instead says that these women value themselves and their bodies more than any other women in Gilead.

That’s all for this section. Tune in for the finale of The Handmaid’s Tale to find out how Nick and Offred get it on, and what will become of our increasingly stable protagonist.