#that they can’t fathom not being the most oppressed

[fvckyouimaprophet]

something that drives me fucking crazy about terfs is that so many of them claim to celebrate womanhood but can’t even let it stand on its own as an identity. they’re so binary in their thinking that the only way they know how to how to define being a woman/womanhood is by comparing it to men and describing it in terms of what being a woman isn’t or what it lacks.

[rockingbytheseaside]

Hii!! I love your writing sm like you’re literally my go to blog when I get bored and I end up rereading your fics 😋. Not sure if you have rules or anything so idk what I can and can’t request (IF YOU DO AND THIS ISN’T IN LINE WITH IT I’M SO SORRY.. 😭).

Could I request the harbingers crushing on reader? Like I can imagine them being slightly more lenient with reader which confuses most of the soldiers. Again feel free to ignore this 💗‼️‼️

(giggling and kicking my feet rn, this is the type of partially-satirical fluff I headcanon. Hope you like it)

✦ When they secretly have a crush on you

Pierro, Capitano, Dottore, Scaramouche, Pantalone, Childe

✧ The ever-cold and impeccable Pierro – a mystery that even his associates and top harbingers cannot decipher. Not many can be considered as his close confidants, so none is certain of his personal life and preferences. A cold, stern man like The Jester probably doesn’t waste a glance on frivolous affairs or pleasantries. Even if many high-status people tried to approach him - aristocrats, business partners, or noble ladies; his cold gaze shuts off any initiation for close relations. No, he sees their greed for power too clearly to be swayed.

Yet Pierro harbors a deep secret. He does fancy a type… and that type is you.

It’s not simply your physical attributes or style, his ‘type’ is literally everything you embody. The shape of your jawline when you lower your face, the delicate shadow your eyelashes cast on your cheeks, how your chest moves when you take a deep sigh. From the minor and inconsequential attributes, he memorized it to his heart until the only thing his gaze is seeking is you across the room. He was always silently enamored, his eyes watching you with reverence. However, he is a mastermind, first and foremost. Concealing his inner sonnets for his love for you came naturally just as he conceals half of his face with a Khaenri’ahn mask.

You, on the other hand, were oblivious. Nervous, even. Facing off the most powerful man, cursed with immortality just as you all those centuries felt intimidating, especially when you couldn’t grasp why his gaze kept lingering so melancholically.

“It is… good to see you again, Pierro,” – that was your initial words when the two of you spoke formally. In truth, your mind was filled with wistful thoughts: he probably settled down with someone after 500 years of immortality.

In the meantime, Pierro’s mind was at comical odds with his cold exterior as he thought: Hmmm… Yes, I’ve already decided on the name of our potential third child.

But of course, he didn’t say that, even if he looked slightly mesmerized. Instead, he just settled with a polite: “A pleasure, indeed”. It's only a matter of time before he accidentally slips and calls you his spouse in front of people.

✧ Il Capitano was avoiding you like the plague, and you couldn't fathom why. Whenever you crossed paths, his oppressive silence would intimidate you further. He would linger behind you, a looming presence so quiet that at times, you’d forget he was even there. Alas, when you finally muster up the courage to approach him directly, he'd respond with the briefest of words, avoiding any attempts of chatter.

It infuriated you. So much so that you started wondering if perhaps you did something wrong. He sparred with you countless times, the taste of a battlefield is nothing foreign when he trained alongside you. You felt like a stranger. Why he was so eerily silent was beyond your comprehension, and alas, his pitch-black expression did not portray any facial clues on what he was thinking.

The truth of the matter is that Capitano has mastered the art of keeping his head impassively still. With a helmet on his face and lack of visage, no one sees his gaze ogling your form whenever you train. Your movements mesmerize him during battles, your legs swift and your stance is powerful. Of course, he would be silent when he is staring directly at your beauty in action. You rendered him speechless, and now the Harbinger is diverting himself by discreetly peeking at you. Thank the archons for his helmet hiding his gaze.

But the Captain scolds himself. No, he mustn’t! It is improper of him to even lay his eyes upon a being so diligent and strong as you, he must respect-… Nope, his head is automatically turning towards you anyway. Lost in his silent battle of self-reprimand, he didn’t notice you suddenly approaching:

“Captain, we need to talk. What is the reason for your cold shoulder towards me? If I have done something improper you must tell me… You always avoid me, even when we’re supposed to cooperate.”

The same characteristic silence followed him, however, seeing you cornering him so sternly, even the Harbinger had to drop his resolve.

“...You must forgive me. Your beauty had overwhelmed me to such an extent that I felt ashamed to admit how you rendered me speechless to approach you.”

✧ A long time ago, before Il Dottore bore the title of a Harbinger, there was a young boy named Zandik. This little Zandik was trainee Dastur, a prodigy of his field and academic year. But he wasn't the only top student of the Akademiya, in fact, this young man was standing in the shadow of a brilliant senior student whom he always looked up to with innocent wonder – you.

You weren't aware of the younger student with short turquoise hair trailing you. He, however, was aware of you because your portrait often graced the accomplishments of the establishment, thesis research, and any academic honors of the top young researchers. Since you were a senior, Zandik couldn’t share lectures with you, yet it didn’t stall him. Every thesis bearing your name, he read; every book you borrowed from the House of Daena, he memorized meticulously. His revenant studies of everything you did mesmerized his young mind, leading him to linger behind the lecture hall doors, drawn to where you so often spent your time.

It was a harmless habit, the boy believed; surely you never noticed him?

One day, Zandik spotted you chatting with your peers in the hallway. Unfortunately for you, you inadvertently left behind your precious notebook, forgotten in the rush to your next class. The young man didn't have it in himself to run after you and directly return it. Instead, it was his chance to study your secrets. His hands hesitated only briefly before he grasped the notebook, feeling the weight of the handwriting he so admired.

When he first opened the notebook, the first page read in massive writing: “I KNOW YOU'RE STEALING MY NOTES – THIEF.”

That was approximately 400 years ago. So much so that the memories of your student self were long forgotten in your mind. When you later on met the 2nd of the Fatui Harbinger, you expected the Fatuus to coerce you for cooperation. To demand you to leverage your expertise in Khaenri'ahn technology, or perhaps blackmail you into his maddening cause. But none of that transpired.

The grown man, now known as Il Dottore, stood blankly in front of you, eerily placid. His once youthful awe had matured into something far more inscrutable, like a long-buried sincerity breaking through his Doctor’s mask. Without a word, he extended a hand, offering you an old, tattered notebook. It was that same old notebook from your Akademiya days.

“... Huh? Where did you get this?”

“Perhaps a young boy was too excited to pilfer what wasn't his. I apologize for borrowing it. That boy never wanted his idol to think of him as a thief. If it wasn't so arduous to seek you out all those centuries, I would've returned it to you earlier.”

✧ With his face perched on his knuckles, Scaramouche sat down listening to your ramblings. You would think a Harbinger with his temper, would long since exhausted his patience, waving you off to scram from his presence. Yet the moment you start talking, he is obediently listening, like a devoted man waiting for his blessing from the Grand Narukami Shrine

“But I never saw you enjoy any snacks or drinks while you’re out,” – you mused with excitement, launching on a tangent about this mysterious Inazuman beside you. “Oh! How about this, I’ll start guessing your favorite pastime food or beverage and you tell me if I am right or wrong.”

Scaramouche raised an eyebrow, but crossed his arms indifferently - “A futile endeavor but suit yourself anyway.”

Undeterred, you accepted the challenge. You listed each and every single delicacy in Teyvat that you could recall, from Inazuman mochi, dango, and sake to even Mondstadt’s Cold Cut Platter and wine. The Balladeer only scoffed, amused at your silly attempts to deduce him, as if he was some mystery you should decipher.

“Ugh, Okay! My last attempt. Is it… green tea?!”

Scaramouche went silent at the sight of your anticipation - “Hm,”

“No way… did I guess correctly, at last! Are you a herbal tea enthusiast? Oh, I knew it, I knew it!”

You exclaimed with unattained joy, leaving the Balladeer to silently observe your self-proclaimed victory. The truth of the matter is - that wasn't the correct answer. Scaramouche doesn't care for any teas or snacks, not when his artificial palettes found human indulgences to be redundant. Yet, looking at your jubilant face, glowing with delight as if you’d uncovered some profound world secrets, he couldn’t bring himself to confess. How foolish.

“Hah, fine, you got me. You must be thrilled to guess something so mundane.”

“Well, maybe mundane to you, but I was pretty curious what a living puppet would prefer to drink.”

Your sudden words caused Scaramouche to freeze. He never told you he was a puppet by nature, and most people would never guess what he is. Yet here you were, stating it so simply and obviously. Most ridiculously, you didn’t seem crestfallen by the weight of this truth. “You knew…? I'm not sure if I should compliment your keen observation, or if this is another one of your random guesses. What gave it away?”

“I thought it was obvious.” - you eased a sincere smile, your hand reaching to carefully brush a stray hair on his head. “No regular human would have such a perfectly pristine face like yours. Even if they had the most luxurious face-care routine.”

If puppets had blood flow, there would've been a pink hue dusting his cheeks. It seems he was the fool here after all. Ever since that day, he has found the taste of green tea to be rather soothing.

✧ A popular misconception about Pantalone is that he allowed you to walk into his life and pursue him so easily. Trully wrong. In reality, it was this Harbinger who had been pursuing and courting you from the very beginning - like a lovestruck fool, no less.

At first, Pantalone tried to be the charmer. He’d offer you heavy bags of Mora as if it was pocket change and say in his best alluring voice - “Go spoil yourself with something new, dear. I want you to look your best on our next date.”

The issue was you were dense like a rock. Because you blinked at the mora and said simply: “Why? I already have comfortable clothes, I don’t need any right now.”

He wanted to slap himself. Any attempts at spoiling you with riches or gifts were futile, especially when you humbly rejected his monetary help out of casual practicality. You always stated that others in need would require it more. Very well, he won’t sulk just yet. He decided on his next act of refinement. He’d invite you with him to any luxurious events: galas, opera performances, dinner parties; all carefully orchestrated to impress you, showcasing how he can provide you with any wonder from the world, linking his arm elegantly with yours to flaunt how you’re accompanying the 9th of Fatui Harbingers himself.

That didn’t work as well. Whenever a business meeting occurred with vital connections, your gaze bore no interest in the wealth of the higher class, nor did you beat around the bush to dismiss yourself. Instead of marveling at the company of riches and endless champagne flutes, he’d instead find you marveling at the ducks swimming in the pond of a garden – “Look, duckies!”

Pantalone was in visible distress. All this gold that people die for yet you so naively dismissed him. Was he unworthy of your simple love? Was he too pompous for you and forgot his own origins? His self-doubt gnawed at him at night, so much so that his own subordinate would see him pacing in his office with a tremor of restlessness, thinking how he should open this topic with one he so openly treasures.

“My dear, please tell me what your heart seeks,” – he once opened the discussion with you, his hand clasping yours in an act of pleading. “I do not wish you to be uncomfortable with my actions. Just say the word and I will bring you what you want.”

Once more, you blinked at him in that same sweet innocence, but instead, you spoke with a smile: “Oh, you silly, silly man Pantalone. I never wanted your mora or status. I do not wish to be indebted to you, no. I just wish you to be as you are. If you want to take me to a restaurant, take me there, not because it’s a fancy establishment, but because it has your favorite food. Plain and simple.”

The young Harbinger didn’t know it was possible to fall in love even more. It seems he mistook your humble sincerity with naivety, never once pondering that perhaps you didn’t want a partner for the sake of connection or money. That being his true self was something he could even offer you.

In the upcoming days, Pantalone’s subordinate could clearly see was smitten beyond logic or reason. Like a grinning child, resting his chin on his palm when sitting behind a desk, feet almost kicking with excitement. He really was enamored with you from the start.

✧ If there is one thing Tartaglia’s heart relishes, it’s the rush of a challenge. And you, as a whole, challenged this young man on a daily basis. His bubbling persona and eccentricity to rush into action was an antithesis to your blunt calmness and reason. If he is the one launching into battle, you are the one who is yanking him by the collar while maintaining that unimpressed look.

Thus, as a challenge, Childe took it upon himself to make you break that serene attitude from you. At least once, and his heart will soar with victory. Unbeknownst to him, everything he did fumbled.

He started with cheesy attempts to flirt with you, flipping his ginger hair back while leaning on the wall with a captivating smile to make sure your eyes were on his form alone. It might have made you swoon, if he hadn’t miscalculated and leaned against the door instead, stumbling awkwardly when it swung open.

Another attempt was made when he tried to play the savior. The two of you were strolling when a Hydro Hilichurl Rogue stumbled upon your path in the wild, its makeshift scythe warning you two to get away. For the Harbinger, this was an easy opportunity to dispel such a puny target and save you. Except the Hilichurl Rogue kept throwing hydro slimes, which his vision of the same element was useless against. You managed to drag Tartaglia (almost) unscathed.

Everything was going against Tartaglia’s luck and he felt like an utter failure in front of you. He’s the 11th, for crying out loud, he always fairs well when something challenges him. Yet here he is, getting bandaged by you after fumbling countless times in your presence. Your first impression of him must be beyond salvageable at this point.

“If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve thought you’re a problematic teen who gets into trouble all the time. Because you sure act like it,” – you stated to him simply. Securing his cuts and bruises on his shoulder.

“If I confess that such accidents rarely happen, would that change your opinion of me, or is it too late to start from zero? Ouch-” he winced when you tightened the bandages, his bruises not alleviating the sensation. The culpability of it all made him sulk, realizing he was probably putting you into trouble with all his shenanigans. “I’d die for you, you know.”

“That is the dumbest thing I've heard.”

Your words were concrete, his gaze averted with guilt and sorrow. But you continued quaintly.

“Why would anyone say something so senseless? I don’t want you to ‘die’ for me or anyone, even. What about ‘keep living’ for someone? For me… for your family, for yourself. Anyone can blindly plunge themselves to their death, but it takes actual courage and strength to keep living for those you care about. So please, do that for me instead of getting into trouble.”

The once serious expression on Tartaglia's softened with each word you spoke. Now he realizes that perhaps you putting up with his impulsivity stemmed not from frustration, but out of sincere worry. Maybe in his attempt to charm you, you were the one charming him all along. Especially when you sit so close to tend to him, it would feel so natural to wrap his arm around and embrace you.

“You’re right… I suppose it is reckless. Living for yourself seems truly priceless if it means seeing you beside me for another day.”

[pawthorn]

It’s kind of funny how certain Ashton is that knowledge of what really happened at the fall of Aeor is going to overturn society.

I think that expectation comes from the classic Taliesin PC Pride (affectionate.)

Ashton has always mistrusted authority. Ashton has always believed the gods weren’t really interested in helping the little guy. They figured it out a long time ago, because they understand the world better than all these normies.

And now, here’s proof for all the normies that the gods don’t care about mortals as much as they care for their siblings— even the evil ones. And Ashton thinks it’s totally gonna blow their minds and rewrite everything. People won’t know how to handle it!

Which, even within their group is demonstrably not the case.

Ashton is so certain of his unique perspective being truer and clearer because of their trauma (and that’s… not really how trauma works) that he can’t fathom that people of faith may have already grappled with the fact that the gods are messy. That seeing what happened in Aeor might be heart wrenching, terrifying, but ultimately will likely still fit into most people’s view of the gods.

After all, the fate of Aeor and the gods�� role in its downfall (lol) has never been a secret. The new information is how oppressive Aeor was, how much the choices of its wizards contributed to the total loss of life there; the flight of the Cognoza and Selena’s Wish, specifically.

But Ashton has a deep sense of superiority toward the faithful, as well as a very specific value system that doesn’t take into account the values of others. (Hell, of the ten gods whose will was active in Aeor, only three were even “Good” aligned. Saving people was never gonna be this group’s priority.)

Not everyone in the world is concerned with individual freedom and wellbeing first and foremost. Many will see the collective good that came from Aeor’s fall and conclude that the ends justify the means.

[fatliberation]

(cw medical abuse, probably me being clueless skinny person, parents) I don’t mean to make fat liberation about skinny people, but it’s like most types of oppression where it hurts the oppressor class too (albeit not to the same extent). I’m a relatively thin adult who is still on my parents medical insurance, meaning I need to talk to them to go to a doctor. I have some type of medical thing going on where I’ve had no appetite and been constantly nauseous for weeks, and when I told my mother about this, she said “you’re so lucky, that’s what ozempic does for me, and you don’t even need medication”. As though being unable to choke down more than a meal a day, unable to enjoy what I eat is some kind of mercy. I can’t fathom putting myself through this so I could look different. It’s been fucking miserable. Nobody is free until we all are free. I love you.

Ugh, I’m so sorry you’re going through that and that your mother would say that to you. How awful. It’s true, diet culture/fatphobia harms everyone. Thin people are hurt by it AND greatly benefit from it.

[mystic-orb88]

ARCANE SEASON 2, ACT 3 SPOILERS:

Stop. Now.

Can I just say Ekko is the most perfect and flawless character ever created and now I wish he and Viktor and Jinx could have all met somehow and done cool science stuff together. But this frame here genuinely makes me so sad. I’m crushed. But also, I like when conflicting circumstances tear characters apart, to me. I like the tragedy. So I’m glad in our Ekko’s universe, they didn’t stay together. It would be so out-of-character for my girl Jinx.

Also I like that it wasn’t just a boring fan-service episode. It proved a point, and we also had Jayce’s fun adventures in Nightmarefuelworld. ANDD THE Z-DRIVE, WOOOOOO!!!!

Jinx was already perfect, but so is Powder.

I’ve always hated romance, whether it was real life, or cinema. But this scene was incredible. I love them so goddamn much. Actually sickens me. They are everything to me.

Him smiling back at her the same way Jinx did after their fight on the Bridge. How dare you, Fortiche??

Jinx’s reflection in place of this world’s Powder’s.

Viktor and Jayce’s fight scene and…. Whatever that ending was, was gayer and more erotic than anything Violyn could fathom. Sorry guys. What the Hell was he doing cupping his face like that, wrapping his legs around him, faces mere centimetres away, all without actually being physically there but also exploding together in the astral plane?? The way he said ‘As partners’?? Likeeee, I ain’t never seen hand-to-hand combat like that. Look at these soulmates. Just as a platonic relationship I love it, and it’s wayyyy gayer than anything else. He chose dying with his space boyfriend over the insanely gorgeous Mel, who also got a fabulous glow up, is undoubtedly the hottest character in the show, ANDDDD has OP Arcane talents. Bravo Jayce, you simultaneously fumbled and won and disintegrated into nothing with your astronomical lab ‘partner’. Singed was right- One does unspeakable acts for love.

We got Viktor in Mel’s eyeshadow before G.T.A.6.. Slay my King. Thank you for your pretty little hallucinations, Jayce.

Alsoo, let us pay respects to this fine Yordle who waited over 100 years for Ekko, sure can sing, and sacrificed himself so that Ekko could get back to his right world.

I’m glad that at least ONE of my favourite characters had a happy ending. Singed wasn’t the most ethical scientist, but he sure is a Hell of a father for doing all that.

Sevika in the Council. She finally beat Silco’s corrupt underground empire and overcame the oppression Vander faced. She finally understood how he felt when she betrayed him, after the Zaunites wouldn’t listen to her, and now she can do something about it. So happy for her. She deserves it. The true leader of Zaun, everyone.

Alsoo, I’m a strong believer in the ‘Jinx is alive theory.

More critically however, I think there were too many needle drops (however good they were), the pacing was pretty rushed compared to Season One which was pure perfection, and I wish we got something more similar to League Viktor, because now Only-Arcane fans will not understand the true meaning of Glorious Evolution. I think Viktor’s character arc was over-simplified and I just feel empty about it. Kinda disappointed. He means so much to me. But damnnnn Jayce got validated as HELLLL. No complaints there. I hate him in League but always liked him in Arcane up till episode 6. Bro was just an idealist. Also their ending was ambiguous did they die together or just remain in the astral plane, forever integrated within the arcane. If Singed could save Orianna, can’t he find their corpses somewhere and save them?? I need cyborg Viktor. I wish we had the adventures of Blitzcrank and his cyborg father. I’m also bothered by that continuity error about Vander’s betrayal and when exactly it takes place. Also don’t like what they did with Silco’s character, in Ekko’s alternate world AND in the original world, because how could he just forgive Vander like that after all the hate he was always full of?? I’m sure there’s an explanation, but they didn’t have enough time to go into it.

This is the actual best show I have ever seen personally. Thanks for the stunning writing, flawless art-style, loveable characters and impeccable queer/disabled/POC representation. No other show has ever moved me so much. I hope Fortiche continues to make more series like this in the future. I love Runeterra and its Lore so much.

[00-oh-yanno-00]

it’s three in the morning and i can’t sleep because tomorrow we may wake up to find that Rafah is gone.

i lost my job on march 31 and the whole time i’ve been fighting with unemployment all i can think about are the fact that houses in Gaza are rubble.

i forget to eat and the hunger reminds me of Palestines that are starving, and have been starving for months. i go grocery shopping and wonder how many died while i was getting deodorant. i clean my house and think about the sewage piling up. i get my period and cannot fathom how Palestinian women are continuing

i watch as many videos as i can, i share information, i try to uplift their voices, i mourn with them and pray for them and plead with anyone who has the power to liberate them

we watch college students brutalized (again) as they are screaming in the face of militarized police who have been sent by our own government to oppress them. we see celebrities that could evacuate thousands with the wave of a hand dress up in clothes that cost more than most of us make annually.

our government officials are cohorts, sponsors, defenders, friends, and enablers of those who are literally drawing out innocent people with the sound of crying children to murder them. iserali soilders have literally posted war crimes on their social media accounts, iserali citizens have been invited to their bases to watch the torture of Palestinians. they sign american made bombs and take pictures around it before dropping it on homes with sleeping families.

we’ve seen mass graves, people stripped with their hands tied behind their backs before they’re killed. we’ve seen a child surrounded by her dead family, trapped in a car while iserali soilders kill anyone who attempted to help her

and all of this is happening while i’m trying to get a job so me, my roommate, and my cats don’t starve or end up homeless. i don’t have money to pay rent, i only have groceries because i have a sister willing to share resources with me, i have to pay a late fee on three bills because i’ve been fighting with unemployment for a month, i’m now late on renewing my car tag because i can’t afford it without a job, and i’ll be so real

i don’t care. i don’t give a fuck at this point. i don’t want anything to fucking do with a country that has commited this absolute bullshit. i don’t want to work for or with a zionist. i would rather punch their fucking teeth out, and that wouldn’t be a fraction of the violence they’d wish on me for simply saying that Palestinians deserve liberation.

how the fuck am i supposed to look for a job when my country is supporting a genocide? how the fuck am i meant to keep trucking along in day to day life when infection and disease are being purposefully spread through Palestine? why the fuck do you expect me to give a shit about bills when we are murdering an entire people

i want every missile launched to backfire. i want all iserali weapons to malfunction. i want to grab every zionest and scream to get the fuck off Palestain land. i want to break down the doors of every politician who would dare to support a genocide and impact a sliver of the fear Palestinians face every day

i am so sick of living and participating in a system that has consistently fucked so many people, throughout so many generations, all in the name of keeping the rich comfortable. i am so tired of the endless ways america specifically has fucked the entire globe. i am so tired of being forced to grow up watching as people everywhere suffer so the wealthy can be comfortable. - and do not forget that the end goal of this does benefit the rich.

do not forget that they are committing a genocide for a land grab. do not forget that there are plans for beach resorts on Gaza strips. do not forget about the canal project, about the oil, about all the resources the greedy fuckers controlling the world are already planning to rip from Palestine

and i know this post is, a, long, but b, very whiny. this is not to say that there isn’t hope. this is not to say that we shouldn’t keep fighting.

this is to say that it’s now four in the morning, and tomorrow i could wake up and Rafah could be gone, so i am still not asleep, because the only thing i can offer right now is my words, and my time, and my sleep, and that is such a little price to pay if it means someone reads this and thinks of Palestine

this is to say that despite everything, despite all the bullshit and how insane it is to continue, i will; because there’s no other choice at this point.

if we want to see the revolution we have to continue. if we want Palestine to be free then we have to continue. if we want better for our future, if we want better than what history has to offer, we must continue

and i hope, if nothing else, there is solidarity in our shared anger, action in our outrage, and results in our resistance born of love and compassion for a nation that our ancestors have failed

may Allah protect Rafah, may my Goddesses protect Palestinians, may our people liberate the world, and may we see the end of global tyranny that has oppressed the working class for centuries

[transmascpetewentz]

Coming from an ex-atheist: you, @atheistsupreme96, are an antisemite, and no, saying "but religion is oppressive!!!" doesn't acquit you of accountability for your words and actions that negatively affect Jewish people.

First of all, your culturally Christian (and white, but because I am white I don't feel qualified to talk about this) entitlement. You feel entitled to walk into Jewish spaces where you are not welcome to "criticize" Judaism (by demonizing Jews and making them look like they hate you when they're just making a very basic critique of American culture). When Jews push back against your immediate hostility of anything that questions Christian culture, you say that the various genocides where Jews were targeted were their own fault, saying that "Jews can’t stop themselves from turning everyone against them."

You seem to be unable to fathom that a religion isn't actively trying to spread itself to everyone around it, and that's a very Christian mindset because most world religions actively want you to not be a part of their religion—and Judaism is one of those religions with a high barrier to entry, where they do not want you to be a part of their religion unless you're willing to go through the conversion process, which takes one year AT LEAST.

And, if Jewish communities are being bigoted to queer people, women, etc—that's up to Jews to call out. They've got this. Queer Jews, Jewish women, and Jewish people of color are constantly talking about bigotry in Jewish communities and trying to improve it, but you refuse to listen to them. You are ironically making it worse for the multiply marginalized Jews you are trying to make it look like you care about.

Jews are one of many ethnic and religious minorities that are affected by cultural Christianity, which cannot be separated from white supremacy. They are marginalized and experience oppression, which we call antisemitism. If you are an atheist, that is okay, and the concept of cultural Christianity isn't calling you a Christian. Culturally Christian atheists are atheists who were raised in a Christian culture and are not of a religious or cultural minority.

Ideas such as purity, the idea that knowledge of evil is inherently corrupting and/or evil, and the idea that bad people deserve to be tortured forever are all culturally Christian ideas that can be held by people who are not Christian. Hell, they can be held by anyone, including Jews, Muslims, and other marginalized religions that are fucked over by cultural Christianity.

Your trauma with Christianity is real and valid, but you cannot be using it as a way to wave away Jewish criticisms of the antisemitic behaviors that many atheists raised in a Christian culture do. Your antisemitism very much resembles what an actual Christian might do, making it very hard for you to beat the cultural Christianity allegations.

[khepiari]

A Single Scene Exposes Centuries Of Misogyny So Well!

Odachii really had no business exposing how toxic men-talks happen in bar and how they plan to trap and abuse women in such details!

I rewatched this scene on loop! It didn’t hit me, like how easy it is as a society for a woman to lose it all and in order to survive give up on pride and become a man’s symbol of ego and prowess of his loins!

Odachii and the anime creative team couldn’t have hammered it harder than this: this scene is prime example of how Upper-class powerful men around the world—men in position of authority and considerable repute, will do anything to get a woman they want; especially a lower-class woman who dares to reject him and exercise her autonomy!

Look at how Mouse-man is giving Yokozuna Urashima step-by-step guide to trap a woman!

We know this has been happening for ages, where vulnerable women have had to force themselves to marry men who could “financially protect” them and give them the “legitimacy of existing as a honourable woman” in society in correlation to him; his wife, in some places as his concubine or mistress!

Urashima thinks he is great catch, because he is popular, has money and can provide everything material to Okiku, but most importantly him marrying her is giving her a social ladder up; because he is samurai-class and as his wife she no longer would be shunned as a lower-class woman! By this logic he thinks he is the “NICE GUY!” Because he is going below his standards to accept a tea house waitress into his household!

Yet his man-pride is hurt because a low-born woman dared to say no to him!

And when Okiku rejects him, he can’t fathom why would she reject such a good catch!

And look how fast the misogyny comes out! The moment he realises he has the security of social status and power over her; he really doesn’t need her consent to marry her because he is a man, a high class man, he immediately is open to the idea of destroying everything Okiku has just to make her financially and socially vulnerable and bereft of support and that will make her dependent on him!

What is even more interesting is, Urashima is also the symbol of status quo! Mouse-man is chastising him for setting a poor example. As in offer of marriage to a low-born woman would harm the hegemony of social class! How can they keep oppressing the poor and low-born if they don’t respect the hegemony! So Mouse-men is actually encouraging Urashima to shun ideas of making “proper wife” out of her, as he is being poor example to other high-born because why should he care if Okiku accepts his proposal or not! He is asking him to take her by force as there is no law stopping him from doing this— he is a high born man and he can do whatever he wants! Taking Okiku into his household without consent will drive the message into the hearts of the lower-class/low-born poor masses; that their lives are not theirs but they exist for rich and powerful to step on their bodies, claim their bodies, use their bodies as they see fit!

What I wonder is how would Urashima react, if he found Okiku was a transwoman? I bet like every other asshole on the Internet he would call her slurs, and try to kill her because this man doesn’t respect women. His idea of a woman is someone who is weak, needs the protection of a man and a home! And only a man dictate her life, while she births his children to inflate his pride!

Okiku is cis-passing transwomen, he would not digest it well, because how can he, Yokozuna Urashima the epitome of a strong, masculine, cis-man fall in love with a transwoman if not for trickery!

[fireleaptfromhousetohouse]

Surf and TERF

Perhaps the issue is that I’m looking at it from the outside, but it’s particularly strange that by and large TERFs ignore the existence of trans men - and when they don’t it's usually to voice the most patronising shit imaginable, like the stereotypical Irish mammy asking “but why would you want to cut your lovely long hair?”

Feminism posits, as a fairly central tenet, that men get a better deal in society than women do, so I can’t fathom why any self-described feminist would want women to not have a path to a higher caste available. This is naturally contingent on successfully passing, but there are plenty of real-world examples of AFABs who did exactly that and did rather well out of it - like military surgeon James Barry, who could not have been either of those things living as a woman, or Sir Ewan Forbes, who made a successful legal argument to be identified as a man and was butch enough with it to get away with his seat being a pink castle. Weigh that up against a life of barefoot pregnancy (a common feminist description of women’s lot) and ask yourself why anyone born a woman outside the last fifty years or so wouldn’t roll those dice.

On the other side of the coin, there’s plenty of trans women out there who are quite open about how they’ve transitioned on the specific basis that women - even trans ones - get a better deal in society than, at the very least, they personally did as eggs. I can understand all too well why any given TERF wouldn’t much like this argument, because it strikes directly against that central tenet, suggesting as it does a more complicated reality than the worldview in which men are always the oppressors and women are always being oppressed (by, eg, having steady jobs as columnists for the Telegraph, where they burble on about the everyday problem of having to know trans people exist, for a mere ten times the national minimum wage).

[yetisidelblog]

In every crisis, children suffer the most.

Though they are never responsible for the start of a war or the escalation of a conflict, children bear the brunt of the consequences. It’s hard to fathom that governments and armed groups commit atrocities against small children, but it is happening every day. And Amnesty is showing up to ensure that these crimes aren’t kept in the dark.

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In just the past year, we’ve documented:

Horrific atrocities that have killed and injured children in Gaza

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Violations against displaced children in Lebanon and at the U.S.-Mexico border

These horrors that are being visited upon children should shock the conscience of every one of us — and drive us to take urgent action to protect them.

mnesty shows up every day to expose violations of children’s human rights and demand that those responsible are held to account. With crises escalating and new threats likely to arise in 2025, a gift from you will go 4X as far to ensure that we can do even more to help children »

We have a responsibility to protect children — and we can’t wait for others to act.

In many emergencies today, children are being actively persecuted by the very governments that should be protecting them. As we’ve documented in Gaza, children are being deliberately targeted in military strikes. Girls are being forced to hide, enduring violence and denied opportunities to learn in Afghanistan and Sudan. Children’s futures are being sacrificed.

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[ratttoro]

heres a more vent-y post about ageism cuz y’all are pissing me tf off. (side note, maybe read the whole post before deciding that i just hate teenagers and want them all to suffer).

teenagers seriously need to stop acting as if they are oppressed. you aren’t. you are disrespected/somewhat disregarded in society which is something i’ve been saying but to take it up a notch and compare it to oppression is exactly why there’s so many people who are preaching that teens shouldn’t be online/aren’t mature enough to make their own decisions.

there are laws out there to protect you because we’ve all been there, we all know what its like, we all want you to succeed. youth is one of the only things every human being on this earth experiences, and wishes they could go back and change. there are evil ass motherfuckers out there who want to hurt you, who want to take advantage of you and your naïveté, who want you to believe that you’re more mature than your parents/teachers tell you and that they’re all just holding you back, but good news: there are also people out there that want every single one of those motherfuckers to rot in a jail cell and tons of people who dedicate their entire lives to doing so. thats oppression to you? because you can’t vote at 15 fucking years old? because the teachers don’t want you vaping in the bathroom? get a fucking grip oh my god. you are more privileged as a teenager than you’ll ever be in your entire life.

if you seriously cannot even FATHOM why someone might not want a teenager in their space, to interact with their account, or to have the liberty of making every single decision for themselves, ya aren’t as mature as yer thinking ya are, bud.

even as a teen, it was never hard for me to just respect the fact that some spaces weren’t made for me, and there were valid reasons as to why. (i was a teen like two years ago and technically still am so dont start with that “well things are different now!” bullshit.)

teens aren’t allowed in adult spaces because adults are unpredictable, and no matter how many times you wanna shout that teens are capable of being mature and responsible, most teens are naïve as fuck because most of y’all have 0 life skills yet. once again, if you did have life skills you would probably understand why there are so many things in place to FUCKING PROTECT YOU GUYS.

it’s so frustrating that teenagers are trying to push away everything thats keeping them safe because “erm actually teenagers are a lot smarter than you think!” just because you read Frankenstein does not mean you’re immune to grooming and sex trafficking.

i agree that teens deserve to be respected and their opinions deserve to be heard, but no, sorry, y’all definitely should not be in adult spaces (rather the spaces dangerous or not, some people just don’t want minors around and this type of shit makes me completely understand why).

stop preaching literal groomer language at teenagers AS A TEENAGER. what the fuck! you’re destroying yourselves and forcing everyone else to watch. i’ve seen multiple cases of rape, grooming, abuse, etc, that wouldn’t have gotten recognized as such had the victim not been a minor. stop actively trying to make things worse for yourself. once you grow up, there will be no more people fighting for you. there will be no protection. there will be no more using your age as an excuse. like i said earlier, get a fucking grip.

and ik that teens have been saying the same bullshit reworded for centuries, but it gets more concerning when people are essentially saying “teenager? psssh they’re practically an adult!” and it blows my mind that people cant see why.

[redleatherlesbo]

bukola's blog #2: on citizenship

how an encounter with a neighbor convinced me of my worthiness of a high school award (tw/reference to su*cide)

when i was a teenager, the high school i attended had a monthly assembly before school where students selected by their teacher would receive the “Good Citizenship” Award. each month, a different department would give the award. in september, teachers from the english/language arts department would select a student; in march, the math department would do so, and so forth. from what i remember, the qualifications for a student who demonstrated good citizenship in a classroom context were thus: enthusiastic participation in class, timely submission of assignments, genuine inquisitiveness, willingness to help classmates, etc. by the time i graduated, i had received this award five times.

the most memorable of these five awards was the one i received from my ap world history teacher, mrs. ewans. it was during my sophomore year of high school, one of the first school years i remember more for the mental and emotional anguish i was experiencing than for anything i said or did in a class to deserve any acknowledgement. it was the first year that i was completely uninvolved in any extracurricular activities since elementary school, having chosen to disengage from a few activities wherein i felt mistreated by my peers. the years preceding my sophomore year were full of the kind of serious bullying that you would expect a dark-skinned black girl (and the only african girl in school) to experience in a southern school district.

unfortunately for me, it was in disengaging from these activities where cruelty was taking place that i had the opportunity to reflect on them for the first time. i spent every day that year going straight home after school to sink into my loneliness, wondering what i did in a past life to be given this one. having attended middle and junior high schools filled with hundreds of southern, majority white, american preteens experimenting with racism for the first time through their interactions with me, choosing to pull back was probably the better decision. but beyond the internal turmoil caused by the solitary experience of oppression, the social awkwardness of youth that we all went through made things even lonelier. i remember looking for a table to sit at on the first day of that year, lunch tray in hand, realizing i could no longer sit with the basketball girls. i remember wandering through the halls to find an alcove to sit in by myself, eventually calling my dad to share my predicament. he immediately offered to drive to school and eat lunch with me on one of the benches outside or even in the car. i wish i had accepted, but youthful embarrassment kicked in at the thought of eating lunch with my dad because i had no friends. i declined, and hung up the phone almost immediately. i settled into the library, where i would eat my lunch nearly every day for the rest of the year.

it’s a hard place to return to emotionally still, so i can’t fathom how the version of me that i was at that time managed to convince any teacher that there was anything useful—let alone praiseworthy—about me. i don’t remember being my usual bubbly self that year, or even making a single memorable contribution in any class. i spent all of high school and most of the years since thinking those citizenship awards, the one from my world history teacher especially, were undeserved.

—

earlier today, i was taking my dog for a walk in brooklyn before sitting down at my laptop to work from home for the day. my dog is [very cute and] on the small side, so he often wears a sweater in the wintertime to keep him warm. he was wearing it today when someone behind us complemented him. i turned to accept the compliment, and inadvertently began a conversation with a very talkative neighbor about my dog’s sweater. i had not noticed when our conversation began, but as we continued speaking and i observed the missing fingers on his gloves and the callused skin underneath, i realized i was speaking to one of the unhoused men i often see in the neighborhood. as if on cue, he shifted the topic of conversation from my dog’s sweater to the fact that he was in need of money to pay for a meal and transportation to the shelter for the day. i told him i didn’t have cash and apologized, but he continued to follow my dog and me across and down the street while suggesting places i could stop into to get cash for him. i told him i didn’t even have my card and so i couldn’t get cash at the moment—having only grabbed what i needed to take my dog out for a quick stroll around the block—thinking this would end the conversation. instead, he began to describe how bad his mental health had gotten lately. he thanked me for even talking to him and addressing him like a human being but said that he feared he might k*ll himself because it was his birthday, and he was on the street having to ask strangers for their change for a place to stay. he finally offered to stay in front of the kfc on the corner we were standing on and wait for me to take care of my dog and get cash. i agreed, and we finally parted ways.

on my way home with my dog, my brain was a mess of thoughts. i was pretty sure i didn’t even have any cash at home, so i needed to find the nearest atm. i couldn’t go far to find it because i had a meeting on zoom that would start within an hour. i was also limited in which direction to go looking for an atm because the kfc that the man was waiting for me at was so close to my apartment building. given his willingness to follow me when i was crossing the street and down the block, i thought it best not to give him any indication of where i lived. this line of thinking made me ashamed of myself, and i wondered if i would feel the need to take so many precautions after a similar conversation with a member of my community if i knew they had a permanent address. i recognized myself at the crossroads of intersectional experience, remembering i am a woman and that i smile when strangers speak to me and wondered if a man would have been followed. while trying to decide if this made me a bad person, i also began to wonder if the “i am going to k*ll myself if you don’t come back with cash” method of solicitation typically yielded him much success. it probably isn’t his birthday, is it? would i assume a housed person was lying about their birthday?

after wiping my dog’s paws and giving him a treat to occupy himself with, i headed back out to the atm, still grappling with all my thoughts. in the chaos of it all, one thought came to the forefront: i think it makes me a pretty good citizen to still go get the cash despite all of those considerations especially regarding my safety as a woman. and then, for the first time in almost a decade, i remembered that year of deep unworthiness. the certainty on mrs. ewans's face as she read the paragraph she had written about why she had selected me during that early morning awards ceremony all those years ago returned to my mind. only this time, it did not bewilder me.

—

i’m not fully sure why i wrote this. the rest of the encounter was mundane: i gave him the cash, we bumped elbows, and we parted ways. part of this feels embarrassingly self-congratulatory. i hope the more painful memories of my sophomore year demonstrate that any positive sentiment i express towards or about myself was hard-won. i also wonder if my experience would be relevant to educators considering the merits of rewarding students in similar ways. even though the award might even have seemed corny to me at the time (telling other students that i received this award more than once felt like asking to be labelled a Teacher’s Pet and a ‘tryhard’), in the elevator on my way down to the atm, i remember thinking that i wanted to prove mrs. ewans right. even almost ten years later, i wanted to prove worthy of my Good Citizenship awards.

more importantly though, i think the lesson in the story is that our essence always shines through. even amidst immense trauma that made me incapable of seeing any positive traits present in myself, my teacher was able to see it. for years i thought i fooled her, though i now realize it was myself i had fooled into thinking that depression would take the essence of who i am away from me. there is a light that shines in us, even when we cannot see it ourselves.

[badger-writes]

Been doing some thinking on it and I’ve come to the conclusion Fink’s private chambers are the most existentially horrifying location in all of Bioshock Infinite.

The man has rigged all of the doors in his entire living quarters to a time-released mechanism centered on the clock in the center of the room. Over eight hours of his day is dedicated to WORK down in the laboratories of his factory, and that’s per day. Already this is an eminently unhealthy schedule, but that’s somehow not the worst of it. 

The chapel in his PRAYER room is littered with bottles of booze and mocking heresies scrawled on marble statues of the Founders - Columbia’s perversions of Washington, Jefferson, and Franklin. Fink clearly perceives any kind of spiritual need for belief as a vulnerability to grift that and can’t even fathom that Comstock himself would see his position as Prophet as anything less. He comes here to laugh at the yokels and rubes for being so easy to exploit.  ABLE PROPHET - UNTOLD PROFIT.

His LEISURE center consists of a single armchair and a side table in the dead center of the room. One wall is dominated by a chalkboard where he is puzzling out how to make Vigors more economical. There is a Voxophone sitting on the table wherein he bitches about ADAM being such a pain to get ahold of. A confiscated Kinetoscope that plays Vox propaganda is in the corner of the room almost as an afterthought, surrounded by some other junk, like he couldn’t be assed to find a proper storage closet for the stuff. Even when he’s supposed to be relaxed he’s still fixated on his business.

His SLEEP chamber is a waking nightmare. He has a pauper’s cot with a metal bedframe surrounded by telephones and radios and at all hours of the day it is being drowned in sickly, flickering light from the five (5!!) huge CRT screens showing surveillance footage of the factory grounds. These screens are on when we come in; nothing suggests that they have ever once been turned off. He burns the evidence of the Luteces’ existence in his fireplace in individual pieces like he’s still savoring the memory of their deaths. The key for winding the clock governing the doors outside is here as well. It has, as far as we know, never been used.

There is nothing here but slavish devotion to the work of soulless corporate oppression and exploitation. And Jeremiah Fink finds it good and proper that he should live his life this way.

And this is the really fucked up bit - there’s absolutely nothing wrong with Jeremiah Fink. 

He’s not sick, he’s not delusional, he’s not suffering from Tear Sickness. This is just-- how he lives. This makes him happy. This is fulfilling for him. He made a choice a long time ago to spend his time on earth in this extremely specific, joyless way on purpose.

For me, it’s one of the few times where the cartoonish haunted house worldbuilding of Binfinite’s setting actually lands. The thought that a human being could so totally devote themselves to hollow, grinding robber baron-style capitalism as to have a home life that resembles nothing so much as an alien landscape provokes so much dread in me that I feel like I should take a shower before getting back to the gameplay. Utterly repulsive. Well done, Irrational.

[rantingcrocodile]

Yall bis saying monosexual so much be so fucking dumb. stop tryna group the gays and straights together it ain't working

The actual truth is that no bisexual can fully understand the lesbian/gay experience because we have no idea what it’s like to singularly attracted to the same sex. Even the bisexuals who thought that they were lesbians/gay men for years realise, looking back, that their experience was bisexual, and that they were innocently mistaken about their identities for a myriad of reasons.

The real underpinning of the LGB is that we’re all oppressed by straight people, who only want heterosexuality to exist. Anything else is abhorrent to them. 

This is your problem. The biphobic LG don’t understand bisexuality as an actual sexuality in its own right, so you can only pin us down as “half-straight-half-gay” and genuinely think that we’re stuck between two worlds equally when that’s never the case. The most OSA-leaning bisexual in a relationship with the opposite sex who is currently closeted knows what it’s like to be attracted to the opposite sex like a heterosexual, but there is always internalised biphobia and there is always some level of fear of being “found out” as an “imposter.” There is always minority stress, because there is always biphobic oppression.

We never have anything meaningful in common with straight people, but we do have something meaningful in common with the LG. The LG is only attracted to the same sex, whereas we’re attracted to both sexes, but we both suffer minority stress and oppression from straight people because none of us are straight. That’s as simple as it gets.

I, as a bisexual, completely understand that bisexuals don’t “get” the lesbian/gay experience because we’re not lesbians or gay men, we’re bisexual. I also understand that by not “getting it,” there’s a high risk of having homophobic beliefs, especially considering that we live in a homophobic world that promotes homophobia. That’s simple class analysis.

What biphobes refuse to understand is that the opposite is true, too. Lesbians and gay men don’t “get” the bisexual experience because you have no idea what it’s like being attracted to both sexes. You’re simply not bisexual. Because you don’t “get it,” there’s a high risk of having biphobic beliefs, especially considering that we live in a homophobic world that promotes homophobia. It’s the same simple class analysis.

There are times when bisexuals are homophobic and that ends up supporting our joint straight oppressors in oppressing lesbians and gay men. It’s completely wrong and needs to end. A lot of it comes down to bisexuals not understanding the lesbian/gay experience, as described above.

There are also times when lesbians and gay men are biphobic and that ends up supporting our joint straight oppressors in oppressing bisexuals. That’s just as wrong and also needs to end. The vast majority of it comes down to both straight people and LG people only being attracted to a single sex and not being able to fathom being attracted to both sexes. In other words, it comes down to monosexuality.

It isn’t painful for me to hear from lesbians and gay men that at times, there are bisexuals who are homophobic because they can’t fathom what it’s like to only be attracted to one sex, because I know that’s true. But when that homophobia comes from homophobic bisexuals, that comes from a faulty bisexual lens, not from something shared by bisexuals and straight people. Straight people simply can’t fathom being attracted to the same sex, as opposed to homophobic bisexuals not being able to fathom only being attracted to one sex.

What I find absolutely fascinating is that the very, very few bisexuals will discuss monosexuals in a neutral sense to try and analyse biphobia, and then the loudest voices of the biphobic LG lose their minds in fury about having something in common with their oppressors... while having absolutely no problem pretending that bisexuals are really all oppressive evil “bihets” and “really just straight” and that any actual discussions of our full bisexuality is “turning LGB spaces straight” and all the rest of the times that you maliciously lump us together with our joint oppressors and even prioritise our joint oppressors over us.

Very, very few bisexuals discuss monosexuality in neutral, true terms, all with hardly any notes and mostly silent interactions of followers too afraid to speak or admit they agree and that’s horrific for you, but you have no problem with the hundreds of people in this space alone salivating for a moment to hate bisexuals, on posts with hundreds of agreeing, biphobic notes pretending that we’re straight.

How many times do you see bisexuals in this space constantly defending the LG, particularly defending lesbians, as opposed to any LG standing up to bat for all bisexuals?

How many times do you see bisexuals calling out homophobia, as opposed to any of the LG calling out biphobia?

How many times do you see bisexuals defending straight people over the LG, as opposed to how many times the LG will rush to defend straight people all so they can be biphobic and blame bisexuals for everything bad instead?

Yeah. You can’t even handle a single drop of the flood of what bisexuals go through every single day even in this online space and you’re outraged about it. Not even that! Because saying “monosexual” is literally just “you can only be attracted to one sex” and that’s it. It’s not saying you’re the same as straight people, or oppressors, or evil, or anything like that.

So, sorry not sorry, but you can cry about it, monosexual.

[stereostevie]

When you think of grunge, do you picture a bunch of long-haired White guys in plaid shirts, singing about teenage angst and self-loathing? Time to expand that viewpoint. Standing above them all should be Tina Bell, a tiny Black woman with an outsized stage presence, and her band, Bam Bam. It’s only recently that the 1980s phenom has begun to be recognized as a godmother of grunge.

This modern genre’s sound was, in many ways, molded by a Black woman. The reason she is mostly unknown has everything to do with racism and misogyny. Looking back at the beginnings of grunge, with the preconception that “everybody involved” was White and/or male, means ignoring the Black woman who was standing at the front of the line.

Bam Bam was formed as a punk band in 1983 in Seattle. Bell, a petite brown-skinned spitfire with more hairstyle changes than David Bowie, sang lead vocals and wrote most of the lyrics. Her then-husband Tommy Martin was on guitars (the band’s name is an acronym of their last names: Bell And Martin), Scotty “Buttocks” Ledgerwood played bass, and Matt Cameron was on drums. Cameron would leave the band in its first year and go on to fame as the drummer for Soundgarden and Pearl Jam. But he paid homage to his beginnings by wearing a Tina Bell T-shirt in a photoshoot for Pearl Jam’s 2017 Anthology: the Complete Scores book.

“For some reason a couple of skinheads are up front, calling her [the N-word] And all of the sudden, Bell grabs a microphone stand and she starts swirling it around her head like a lasso… She swung that fuckin’ thing around her head and about the fourth time, she smashed that son of a bitch.”

Bam Bam’s sound straddled the line between punk and something so new that it didn’t have a name yet. Their music combined a driving, thrumming bass line; downtuned, sludgy guitars; thrashy, pulsing drums; melodic vocals that range from sultry to haunting to screamy; and lyrics about the existential tension of trying to exist in a world not designed for you. The band’s 1984 music video for their single “Ground Zero” is low-budget, but Bell’s charisma seeps through.

“She was fucking badass. That’s all there is to it. She was amazing as a performer. I’ve only seen one White male lead singer command the stage in a similar way that Tina Bell did, and that was Bon Scott of AC/DC,” says Om Johari, who attended Bam Bam shows as a Black teenager in the ’80s and who would go on to lead all-female AC/DC cover band Hell’s Belles.

Christina King, a Seattle scenester who was close friends with Bell from 1984 until the early ’90s, says the singer’s talent was obvious. But she believes a lot of people dismissed Bell as a gimmick.

Among those attending their shows: Future members of grunge bands like Nirvana (Kurt Cobain did a stint as a Bam Bam roadie), Soundgarden, Alice in Chains, and Pearl Jam.

“I remember one person saying to me that they didn’t get ‘the whole Black girl singer thing,’ it just didn’t fit whatever they were into,” says King. “They were too ahead of their time.”

Bam Bam came into being in an era when hundreds of underground clubs, taverns, bars, and social halls — anywhere that you could cram in a band — were within the Seattle city limits. Bam Bam played almost all of them, and often to big crowds: The Colourbox, Crocodile Lounge, Gorilla Gardens, Squid Row — just to name a few.

Among those attending their shows: Future members of history-making grunge bands like Nirvana (Kurt Cobain did a stint as a Bam Bam roadie), Soundgarden, Alice in Chains, and Pearl Jam. Not to mention all the other people, mostly White and male, who would become prime targets for music labels trying to market this new sound.

Bell “already possessed everything they were trying to attain. She had a truer rock and roll spirit than almost any of those guys in that town. Everything they tried to do, she naturally was,” says Ledgerwood, still a loyal bandmate.

One Seattle club, The Metropolis, became “like our fucking living room,” says Ledgerwood. It was also the site of an overtly racist verbal assault against Tina Bell.

“For some reason a couple of skinheads are up front, calling her [the N-word],” Ledgerwood recalls. “And all of the sudden, Bell grabs a microphone stand and she starts swirling it around her head like a lasso… She swung that fuckin’ thing around her head and about the fourth time, she smashed that son of a bitch… She nailed that fucker right in the temple of his head. Split like a melon. And the other guy next to him caught it too, they go down, and we’re like, ‘What the fuck?’”

Ledgerwood says that after going backstage for a while to regroup, Bell came back “and put out the most blistering set of our fucking career.”

This could easily be an anecdote about Bell’s power, her resilience, and willingness to fight back against oppressive forces. But it’s also a story about the cost of being a Black woman who does something that some people don’t expect or approve of.

“She’s being pulled out of her zone because somebody is acknowledging how the rest of the world can see her,” says Johari, empathizing with the star rocker. “And even to react to it by picking up a microphone and smashing someone in the face, that means that that incident cost her not only that moment it takes to get back into the song, but the whole [effects of her] action will last for weeks.

“She’ll replay that over and over and over and over again. And then the people she sees that were there when it happened, they’re gonna come up to her and they’re gonna forget everything that she’s saying, all the stuff that she had did, and they’re only going to focus on, ‘I was at that show where you knocked a dude in the head for calling you an N-word,’” Johari says. “It has nothing to do with her artistry. But it reminds her of the way in which she has to be prepared, just in case it happens again.”

King remembers Bell also felt that some of the other men in the band’s changing lineup failed to treat her as an equal partner: “She’s getting that from her own band members — what do you think audience people are like?”

A European tour in the late ’80s gained Bam Bam international fans, but ended after Bell and Martin split up, and Bell was caught in an immigration enforcement dragnet in the Netherlands.

When they returned to the Pacific Northwest, Bam Bam continued playing shows until 1990, when Bell abruptly quit as they were packing up to head to the studio in Portland, Ore.

“She had just had enough,” Ledgerwood says. “For almost eight years she had almost literally eviscerated herself for the audience.”

But that work never resulted in the national recognition they deserved.

“Grunge, whatever that means, is being identified as from your community, your colleagues, your sound that you were a participant in help shaping, and you’re not even mentioned in any of it.”

“Sometimes you need to be a little bit of an asshole to protect yourself. And Bell wasn’t much of an asshole,” Ledgerwood adds. “She was a pure-hearted person and had a really hard time believing that people couldn’t accept her over something as stupid as race.”

Bell didn’t just quit the band, she withdrew from music completely, says her son, Oscar-winning documentary filmmaker TJ Martin. Not out of resentment, he adds, but perhaps to escape the painful reminders that the music she helped pioneer was now earning other bands multimillion-dollar record contracts.

“Grunge, whatever that means, is being identified as from your community, your colleagues, your sound that you were a participant in help shaping, and you’re not even mentioned in any of it,” Martin says. “I can’t even fathom what that would feel like for it to be sort of spit back in your face with such frequency.”

Ledgerwood believes Bell died of a broken heart. But when Bell died alone in her Las Vegas apartment in 2012, the official cause of death listed was cirrhosis of the liver. She had struggled with alcohol and depression. Her son says the coroner estimated her time of death as a couple weeks before her body was discovered. She was 55 years old.

The things that could have told Tina Bell’s story in her own voice are lost. Martin arrived in Las Vegas to find that the contents of his mother’s apartment — except for a DVD player, a poster, and a chair — had been thrown away. All of her writings — lyrics, poems, diaries — along with Bam Bam music, videos, and other memorabilia — went in the trash without her family even being notified.

If you think you were in Seattle in the ’80s, in the grunge scene, and you don’t remember Tina Bell and Bam Bam, you probably weren’t really fucking there.

“I couldn’t help draw a parallel between her not being respected and seen in the first chapter of her life, as the front person of a punk band, and then even in death being disrespected and not being seen for the merits of the life she lived,” says Martin.

Bell’s death is also an indictment of the way she was written out of her own story. The way grunge’s almighty gatekeepers chose to look through her instead of at her. Grunge became the domain of alienated young White men in flannel shirts, and Tina Bell didn’t fit the narrative they were trying to sell.

“Black herstory can suffer immense amounts of erasure if somebody is not brave enough to ensure that women get counted,” Johari says.

To many of those who were part of the scene at the time, the amnesia seems intentional. Ledgerwood brings up the seminal history of Seattle’s grunge era, Everybody Loves Our Town. In it, the author refers to Bam Bam as a three-piece instrumental band mainly notable because Matt Cameron was the drummer. Tina Bell isn’t even mentioned.

“How in the hell would he have a recollection of how great Bam Bam and its drummer was, and not this unbelievably beautiful woman, this firecracker, this explosive rock and roll goddess?” Ledgerwood asks. “Even if he thought she sucked, to not remember the only Black woman on the whole fuckin’ scene is — well, it’s like that old joke about the ’60s: If you think you were in Seattle in the ’80s, in the grunge scene, and you don’t remember Tina Bell and Bam Bam, you probably weren’t really fucking there.”

You can listen to more of Bam Bam’s music on this Spotify playlist. A vinyl album with the band’s songs is coming out this year on Bric-a-Brac Records.

[wallisninety-six]

As much as I’m not a true fighter, and I’ve never wanted to be like, pro-revolutionary at all- I cannot fathom how the myriad of issues in the US will be solved *without* a freaking revolution by the masses of oppressed people here.

Yes, the idea of peacefully voting them out is much preferable & nicer sounding right? But with States starting to severely restrict voting rights, personal freedoms and personal autonomy, plus right-wing & conservatives being ever more militant and uncaring for decency and human lives, this isn’t attainable and we need to start getting creative & fighting back.

But the most important factor of all is that even the only other major party (the Democrats) have done NOTHING to stop this. The presidency is severely limited (they admitted as such) and cannot stop SCOTUS, congress gets NOTHING done even with a technical Dem majority, and most damning of all: they just let all of this happen over so many years. The FBI & other agencies will do NOTHING to stop this either and will in fact try to stop everyday people trying to get their rights back. We can’t trust any part of the govt. anymore to stop fascists taking away people’s rights.

Not only that, even if the Dems pass a bill, some jackass in the lower courts will make a flimsy ass excuse to say any sort of bill that the right hates is “““unconstitutional”“““ and SCOTUS, in their high fucking castle will just go along with it, because they’re not scared of us. That needs to change now.

Yes, it’s easier said than done. Yes, revolutions are unpredictable. Yes, they’re going to fight back hard. But we’re all trapped in a corner and frightened. And with the constitution being SO old and SO fragile with human liberty, and with people here in America increasingly feeling like we have no future: from hate crimes, police brutality, healthcare costs, climate crisis destroying everything, plus owning a simple house and living a decent life now being a *LUXURY*, any sort of attempt to “do things by the book” or “change things from within” for so long has brought us nothing but false hope for decades... ...what other option is there?