#that will only exist in my head
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oifaaa · 1 year ago
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Good things about being a writer is that I can start ideas and never finish them.
I can do that as an artist too you ain't special
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hinamie · 8 months ago
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obligatory water tribe alt outfits so i am not held liable if they freeze
jjk atla!au with @philosophiums
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licorishh · 18 days ago
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double ?? upload ???? yeaaaahh i've gotten FASTERRrr for whatever that's worth so complementary blyla because guess what i miss them too (nobody was surprised by that)
#star wars#clone wars#star wars the clone wars#blyla#artists on tumblr#listen i just have a thing for jedi + clones it seems and we cannot forget dartain the ogs (i will draw that tonight + tomorrow not now)#tcw made aayla so cool bro i love her#can you tell i've been on a mellon_soup kick !! i love her references so much bro#one day i will draw foxiyo. that day may be tomorrow i don't know#prequel-era ships are elite sorry everything else is Lame except for han/leia rebelcaptain and kanera (reylo's fine ig)#tcw is also the only thing that salvages anidala for me however! this is not an anidala post i am getting so off-topic whoa#i am unmedicated.#anyway yayyyy double upload#by the way in my head the accelerated aging thing just straight-up doesn't exist#cuz it's one of the dumbest things star wars has ever done i think it just doesn't make sense#anyway ^^)b#listen i'm not ALWAYS gonna go the cheap route and do the gradient thing instead of color i just don't wannaaaa. too much work#“jedi can't have attachments!!!!” and you can't have fun apparently#besides attachment and .-+ love +-. are different things and the jedi USED to know that before they contracted stupid disease#aayla secura#commander bly#would've drawn bly's armor cause it's cool but friiiick dude i already did it for rex and I AIN'T DOIN' IT AGAIN#(will do it again for darman because i'm a masochist)#hey. he's a commando it's different#at least i finally get to throw my etain headcanons into the ring#why am i talking about other ships on a blyla post. whatever#i'll color something eventually. sketching is just significantly easier and more fun#actually scratch that heck y'all i'll do what i wanna do#(affectionate dw)#my art
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akascow · 2 months ago
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HIS ! LOVE ! LANGUAGE ! IS ! PHYSICAL ! TOUCH !
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which is even more depressing when u remember he was thrust into the bottom of a cave completely alone with no one to hold but himself for weeks 🫠
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plus FOREHEAD TOUCH !!!!
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and bonus lol:
dead!jayce responds to viktors touch
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also this bc its funny
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nyaaamato · 5 months ago
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orpheus & eurydice
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sauftpink · 4 months ago
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months on the run, scruffy looking benson ?? maybe ?? 🤔
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remnantglow · 1 year ago
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anyway. a couple nonbinary actors of colour off the top of my head who i would've loved to see as murderbot :)
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(indya moore / janelle monae / vico ortiz / sara ramirez / aya furukawa / amandla stenberg)
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gunsatthaphan · 6 months ago
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delulu-town, population: 2
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inamagicalhallucination · 2 years ago
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my favorite sskk trope is ppl like akutagawa’s acquaintances meeting atsushi and being flabbergasted that the sweetest, purest, softest, can do no wrong-est guy is with mr grumpy pants and no one believing akutagawa when he says that atsushi is actually feral
so essentially ppl having a very soft baby boy uwu perspective of atsushi just becuz he’s sweet and smiles a lot and so on 
but akutagawa obviously knows atsushi since theyre dating so he’s like ‘guys. guys no. guys yesterday i told him he should eat something other than chazuke and he tried to bite me. guys. guys please believe me.’
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frankensteinposm0 · 20 days ago
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are there still beautiful things?
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s0fter-sin · 2 months ago
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trans!soap taking his baby and running away from his rich abusive husband
(cw angst, financial abuse, single threat of child abuse, single mention of transphobia)
he's owned soap for years, since he was a teenager; paid for his medication and all his surgeries and tied them so deeply, soap’s lost hope of ever getting away. he gets even worse when soap falls pregnant. he was always controlling; blowing up at him if he spent too long out of the house or did something without telling him. but he becomes utterly possessive during the pregnancy
soap knows it has nothing to do with his safety or the baby's
he knows he sees his baby as an investment; another being he can control and hold over him
he gets worse and worse but there’s nothing soap can do. there's been nothing he can do for a long time. then a few months after the baby is born, soap doesn’t watch his tone closely enough and his husband threatens to drop his baby in punishment for it
soap doesn't think. he doesn't plan
he takes his baby and runs
he sneaks out of the servant's quarters of the sterile mansion he's been forced to live in for almost a decade and walks down the street without a backwards glance; his baby the only thing in his arms. he knows all of his husband's cars have trackers, all of them in his name since he never lets soap drive or go anywhere by himself, so he walks far enough to be out of view of the mansion's cameras and steals one. it doesn't have a car seat and all he can do is clutch his baby to his chest as he drives
he doesn't know where he's going beyond away
he doesn't know what he's going to do; he doesn't have any money, no supplies for his baby, he doesn't even have water for himself so he can reliably breastfeed him. he's terrified his husband will find them; he’s always felt omniscient, always everywhere and seeing everything he did. if he didn’t have eyes somewhere, he paid someone who did and they always dutifully reported back to him
soap just keeps his eyes forward. just keeps driving and driving, lost to the road and numb until the low gas light pops up on the dash and it all hits him at once
he turns into a gas station he can't pay for, in a car he stole, and parks behind it and his baby immediately starts getting fussy
he can't even call him by his name sometimes; too afraid to get attached, too afraid to lose him. as if he doesn’t love him more than life itself
even throughout his pregnancy, as happy as he was to finally have a baby, he didn't know if he could carry to term and that fear just let his husband dig his claws in even deeper; paying for extra scans he could never hope to pay for, favours on top of favours so he would aways owe him and isn’t he such a loving husband? taking soap in when his parents kicked him out for being trans, looking after him for all these years? you can’t even take care of yourself john, you’d still be a woman without me, john, what is this tantrum about john-
soap tugs his shirt up to let his baby feed, drops his head back and cries
he can't stop it; wails loud and uncontrolled, chest heaving with his sobs enough that it sways his baby, occasionally breaking his latch and he can't even do this right-
he can't save him
a light knock sounds on the window and soap flinches, curling over his baby to protect him from his huband's cruel hands
but it's not his husband outside the window
soap blinks tears from his eyes and looks at the large stranger standing beside the car. a neck gaiter covers his mouth and it should be off-putting… but something about him stops the feeling in its tracks. the stranger takes a half-step back and lifts a chilled and sealed water bottle, pressing it towards the window
soap quickly swipes his face clean and rolls down the window. "sorry 'bout that," he apologises with a choked laugh, the careful front he’s built over the years cracked and bleeding
the stranger gives a dismissive but somehow not diminishing shrug. "long day?" he asks
"could say that," he gives a shrug of his own and pats his baby's back as he makes a disgruntled noise, unconsciously swaying him
he politely keeps his gaze up on his face. "looks like you could use a break."
soap's breath hitches, anxiously darting his tongue out over his bottom lip. "could say that," he repeats uselessly and takes the water with a quiet “thanks,”; his throat dry and screaming for it after crying so hard
the stranger hums, watching him down the bottle and soap doesn’t notice his eyes drifting to the backseat and footwell of the passenger side. doesn’t notice the slight tension in his fists at what he sees. "how long you been runnin', lad?"
soap freezes, the water settling in his stomach like a stone. he swallows thickly and the bottle falls from his lips
"not long enough."
the stranger just nods, looking idly back down the highway
"you know, this place is connected to a garage,” he starts, nodding back to a building attached to the station without taking his eyes off the road. “lotta people drift through 'ere on road trips; too many to keep track.”
soap frowns slightly, shifting his hold on his baby
“funny thing is, plenty of 'em just abandon their car when they break down. like yours,” he adds and finally turns back to him with a pointed look. “got a whole junkyard of 'em. just rustin' away. be pretty easy to convince me to trade ya one."
soap’s mouth parts in a gasp as he realises just what the stranger’s saying. "how easy?" he whispers
he shrugs and even with his face hidden beneath the gaiter, he doesn’t feel afraid. "i'd say this car'd be a good deal. would blend right in with the rest of ‘em; no one’d ever notice it. what say i take it off your hands?"
soap's breath shudders out of him, his whole body going limp with relief. his baby's eyes fall shut with a satisfied hum and for the first time he can remember, he feels the gentle touch of hope
"i think we can work something out."
🧼💀
ghost owns the service station soap pulled into. he wanted something quiet and isolated after he retired and you can’t get much quieter than a backwoods servo surrounded by forest. he hasn’t had anyone pull in in days so he’s quick to notice soap’s car. he’s also quick to notice soap's subsequent breakdown in one of the cameras. the sight of him crying, desperately clutching a baby like they’re all he has left in the world, is so familiar he felt sick with it
he knows someone running when he sees it
if he didn't check on him, if this lad disappeared one day and the baby along with him, he'd never forgive himself. the lad doesn't even have a baby bag or car seat with him, and the personalised sticker on the back window of a lady and a dog is a dead giveaway that the car is stolen
but the lad is terrified. and when he startled him, he didn't turn. didn’t lift his arms to protect himself. no
he covered his baby
like he was afraid he'd be hurt
that's enough for ghost
🧼💀
i'd wanna set this in the 80's or 90's, just to make it even harder for soap to get away from his husband. he's a trans man with a newborn; he has no one to run to and no resources to help him. his husband's bought and paid for everything for him since he was 17; a few whirlwind weeks of unbelievable dates and extravagant gifts and he was living in his mansion, getting married the day after his 18th birthday. he thought it was love. thought he was being looked after and cared for the way he’s always wanted
he was in pain and alone and naive enough to believe the first person who came along and promised to make it better. nothing's in his name, not his insurance or his meds, he doesn’t have a bank account or savings; other than a birth certificate, nothing even ties him to his baby. his husband could take his world away from him with a snap of his fingers and he made sure soap always knew it
he never had a chance of getting away
but ghost is ex-military
he doesn’t know the lad’s story, doesn’t know the details of what he’s running from. he doesn’t need to know
he decided he was helping him the second he pulled into his service station
#what up i had a nightmare about an eldritch horror trying to steal my baby and john mcclane from die hard shooting it to protect me#i woke up freaked out and decided to torment soap with it to feel better#thats literally the only reason this exists#that and the thought of soaps super hairy chest but thats besides the point#anyway#i was going to have ghost be a drifter after retiring but i like the idea of him being the unlikely safe person living out in the woods#ghost moves soap into the little one bedroom cabin he built behind the station#its hidden by the trees and kept warm by a fire. he gives soap and the baby the bedroom and sleeps out in the living room#he keeps watch out the window for whoevers after soap#he doesnt find out who it is for a while; soaps been burned and reluctant to trust anyone#but they gradually heal each other; ghost gives soap someone to trust and soap helps ghost heal his truma by giving him someone he can save#soap starts to work in the service station despite ghost telling him he doesnt need to but he wants his independence back#he finds he likes working and ghost cant take that from him when hes so obviously happy cleaning and shelving stock#soaps husband comes looking for him but ghost still has his contacts and calls a whole militia down on his head#each one of them with favours in the government if not outright political immunity; money means nothing in the face of them#they just threaten him; lets him know soap is protected now#at least; thats what ghost tells soap 😉#coming out of my cage and ive been doing just fine.txt#we’re a team. ghost team#ghostsoap#soapghost#ghoap#john soap mactavish#soap cod#simon ghost riley#ghost cod#save post
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whumpsoda · 11 months ago
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I. I love vampire hunters turned thralls. Brainwashed into adoring little pets to creatures of which they once chased down with the goal of killing… UGH just someone who used to hate the thing they now address as master… bonus points if they get their memories erased and have no memory of their hunter past :3
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wu-wakfu-undertale · 1 month ago
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quick comic about my idea of one of the ways they could've addressed the hat thing with amalia (the one who did say he'd have to show them one day)
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melodead · 2 months ago
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you couldn’t have known, and you couldn’t have ever prepared yourself for it even if you did: the pull of eyes like stardust, the gravity of this moment, and—most of all—the intensity of nagi’s affections.
he’s so, so close. moonlight bathes him in its glow and renders you helpless to do anything but watch, just as you’ve always done. you could count each eyelash, pick out each shade of light and love and inevitability in his eyes. they watch you as your hands cradle his face, spun from the softness of dreams and moonlight.
there’s an old folktale your parents used to tell you, one about a moon-sent princess raised among mortals, only to fall in love with one of them and be torn away when her people came to reclaim her. that’s sad, a younger had you thought. why did it have to take her?
but someone meant for the stars can’t be held down by the earth. sometimes, you wonder if the stars might steal nagi away someday, to deliver him to the top of the world. he’s made of starlight, after all—beautiful, transient, impossible. if that day ever came, you would be helpless to stop it.
you have always watched. you have only watched, but still—still—you want this more than you ever would have thought.
nagi’s hands grasp your waist like a lifeline. time is frozen, stopping dust in the air but not your pounding heart. it’s unfair, really. unfair that he gets to look so unaffected, that you can’t do the same, that this moment might never happen again if you flee now. you feel it beneath your fingers, then: a pulse, faint but rapid with the thump, thump, thump of a heart, just underneath the skin of his jaw. oh.
he presses his lips to your cheek. “relax,” he murmurs into your skin, coaxing and comforting all the same. “it’s just me. don’t be nervous.”
“i’m not nervous. you are.”
“that was shaky.” he presses his forehead to yours. a whispery, amused murmur of your name is spoken into the night. “c’mon, breathe. don’t want you passing out now.”
a small, disbelieving laugh escapes you. “that’s rich coming from you, ‘shiro. you’d leave me here to drag you to bed?”
his eyes stare straight into yours, all consuming and ever reminding you of dust, and you think he might retaliate—break the spell of the moment. maybe you want him to. maybe you don’t. it doesn’t matter anyways, because he promises then, “i won’t.”
then he closes the gap with that all-consuming, steadfast love of his—and it’s not that nerve-wracking after all. you sink into his kiss like it’s second-nature, holding on tight so that nothing could take him. the rest of the world falls away. you must be sick with affection, with how full your heart is.
the people could have their prodigal genius another day. for now, nagi seishiro could just be yours.
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fatehbaz · 17 days ago
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patience being tested. being forced by a bizarre unfortunate situation to adhere to university requirement technicality by taking this simple basic elementary "introduction to environmental history" class.
this class is from facilitators/program which do, like, "history of the American frontier" or "history of fishing and hunting" and still basically subscribe to that old-school twentieth-century idealization and celebration of characters like Teddy Roosevelt and reverence for a mythical arc-of-history-bent-towards-justice narrative of the often-clumsy but ultimately-benevolent US federal government and its mission to "save nature" through the miracle of "sustained yield," while heroic federal land management agencies and "heritage" institutions lead to way, staffed by exceptional individuals (appeals to nostalgia for the frontier and an imagined landscape of the American West; ego-stroking appeals to flattering self-image that center the environmentalist or academic). where they invoke, y'know, ideas like "ecology is important because don't you enjoy cross-country skiing in The Woods with your niece and nephew? don't you like hunting and fishing?" which makes it feel like a time capsule of appeals and discourses from the 1970s. and it invokes concept of "untouched wilderness" (while eliding scale of historical Indigenous environmental relationships and current ongoing colonial violence/extractivism). but just ever-so-slightly updated with a little bit of chic twenty-first-century flair like a superficial land acknowledgement or a reference to "labor histories" or "history from below," which is extra aggravating when the old ideologies/institutions are still in power but they're muddying the water and diluting the language/frameworks (it's been strange, watching words like "multispecies" and "Anthropocene" over the years slowly but surely show-up on the posters, fliers, course descriptions, by now even appearing adjacent to the agri-business and resource extraction feeder programs, like a recuperation or appropriation.) even from a humanities angle, it's still, they're talking at me like "You probably didn't know this, but environmental history is actually pretty entangled with political and social events. In fact, we can synthesize sources and glean environmental info from wacky places like workers' rolls in factories, ship's logs, and poetry from the era." and i'm nodding like YEP.
the first homework assignment is respond to this: "Define and describe 'the Anthropocene'. Do you think 'the Anthropocene' is a useful concept? Why or why not?" Respond in 300 words.
so for fun, right now in class, going to see how fast i can pull up discussion of Anthropocene-as-concept solely from my old posts on this microblogging site.
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ok, found some
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I think that the danger in any universal narrative or epoch or principle is exactly that it can itself become a colonizing force. [...] I’m suspicious of the Anthropocene as concept for the very reason that it subsumes so many peoples, nations, histories, geographies, political orders. For that reason, I think ideas like the Anthropocene can be a useful short-hand for a cluster of tangible things going on with the Earth at the moment, but we have to be very careful about how fluid and dynamic ideas become concretized into hegemonic principles in the hands of researchers, policymakers, and politicians. There’s so much diversity in histories and experiences and environmental realities even between relatively linked geographies here in Canada [...]. Imagine what happens when we try to do that on a global scale - and a lot of euro-western Anthropocene, climate change and resilience research risks doing that - eliding local specificities and appropriating knowledge to serve a broader euro-western narrative without attending to the inherent colonial and imperial realities of science and policy processes, or even attending to the ways that colonial capitalist expansion has created these environmental crises to begin with. While we, as a collective humanity, are struggling with the realities of the Anthropocene, it is dangerous to erase the specific histories, power-relations, political orders that created the crisis to begin with. So, I’m glad that a robust critique of the Anthropocene as a concept is emerging.
Text by: Words of Zoe Todd, as interviewed and transcribed by Caroline Picard. “The Future is Elastic (But it Depends): An Interview with Zoe Todd.” 23 August 2016.
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The Great Acceleration is the latest in a series of human-driven planetary changes that constitute what a rising chorus of scientists, social scientists, and humanists have labeled the Anthropocene - a new Age of Humans. [...] But what the Anthropocene label masks, and what the litany of graphs documenting the Great Acceleration hide, is a history of racial oppression and violence, along with wealth inequality, that has built and sustained engines of economic growth and consumption over the last four centuries. [...] The plantation, Sidney Mintz long ago observed, was a “synthesis of field and factory,” an agro-industrial system of enterprise [...]. Plantation legacies, along with accompanying strategies of survival and resistance, dwell in the racialized geographies of the United States’ and Brazil’s prison systems. They surface in the inequitable toxic burdens experienced by impoverished communities of color in places like Cancer Alley, an industrial corridor of petrochemical plants running along the Mississippi River from New Orleans to Baton Rouge, where cotton was once king. And they appear in patterns of foreign direct investment and debt servitude that structure many land deals in the Caribbean, Brazil, and sub-Saharan Africa [...]. [C]limatologists and global change scientists from the University of London, propose instead 1610 as a date for the golden spike of the Anthropocene. The date marked a detectable global dip in carbon dioxide concentrations, precipitated, they argue, by the death of nearly 50 million indigenous human inhabitants [...]. The degradation of soils in the tobacco and cotton-growing regions in the American South, or in the sugarcane growing fields of many Caribbean islands, for example, was a consequence of an economic and social system that inflicted violence upon the land and the people enslaved to work it. Such violent histories are not so readily evident in genealogies that date the Anthropocene’s emergence to the Neolithic Revolution 12,000 years ago, the onset of Europe’s industrial revolution circa 1800, or the Trinity nuclear test of 1945. Sugarcane plantations were already prevalent throughout the Mediterranean basin during the late middle ages. But it was during the early modern era, and specifically in the Caribbean, where the intersection of emerging proto-capitalist economic models based on migratory forced labor (first indentured servitude, and later slavery), intensive land usage, globalized commerce, and colonial regimes sustained on the basis of relentless racialized violence, gave rise to the transformative models of plantations that reshaped the lives and livelihoods of human and non-human beings on a planetary scale. [...] We might, following the lead of science studies scholar Donna Haraway and anthropologist Anna Tsing, more aptly designate this era the Plantationocene. [...] It is also an invitation to see, in the words of geographer Laura Pulido, “the Anthropocene as a racial process,” one that has and will continue to produce “racially uneven vulnerability and death." [...] And how have such material transformations sustained global flows of knowledge and capital that continue to reproduce the plantation in enduring ways?
Text by: Sophie Sapp Moore, Monique Allewaert, Pablo F. Gomez, and Gregg Mitman. "Plantation Legacies." Edge Effects. 22 January 2019. Updated 15 May 2021. [Bold emphasis added by me.]
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Geologists and other scientists will fight over [the definition of the beginning start-date of the Anthropocene] in scientific language, seeking traces of carbon dioxide that index the worst offenses of European empire which rent and violated the flesh, bodies, and governance structures of Indigenous and other sovereign peoples in the name of gold, lumber, trade, land, and power. [...] The stories we tell about the origins of the Anthropocene implicate how we understand the relations we have with our surrounds. In other words, the naming of the Anthropocene epoch and its start date have implications not just for how we understand the world, but this understanding will have material consequences, consequences that affect body and land.
Text by: Heather Davis and Zoe Todd. On the Importance of a Date, or Decolonizing the Anthropocene. ACME An International Journal for Critical Geographies. December 2017. [Bold emphasis added by me.]
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From Aime and Suzanne Cesaire, C. L. R. James, Claudia Jones, Eduoard Glissant, through Sylvia Wynter, Christina Sharpe, and so many others, critical anticolonial and race theory has been written from the specific histories that marked the Black Atlantic. [...] Glissant also reminds us, secondly, of how cunning the absorptive powers of [...] liberal capitalism are - how quickly specific relations are remade as relations-erasing universal abstractions. [...] This absorptive, relations-erasing universalism is especially apparent in some contemporary discourses of […] liberalism and climate collapse - what some call the Anthropocene - especially those that anchor the crisis in a general Human calamity which, as Sylvia Wynter has noted, is merely the name of an overdetermined and specific [White] European man. […] [T]he condition of creating this new common European world was the destruction of a multitude of existing black and brown worlds. The tsunami of colonialism was not seen as affecting humanity, but [...] these specific people. They were specific - what happened to them may have been necessary, regrettable, intentional, accidental - but it is always them. It is only when these ancestral histories became present for some, for those who had long benefitted from the dispossession [...], that suddenly the problem is all of us, as human catastrophe.
Text by: Elizabeth Povinelli. “The Ancestral Present of Oceanic Illusions: Connected and Differentiated in Late Toxic Liberalism.” e-flux Journal Issue #112. October 2020.
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The narrative arc [of White "liberal humanism"] [...] is often told as a kind of European coming-of-age story. […] The Anthropocene discourse follows the same coming-of-age [...] script, searching for a material origin story that would explain the newly identified trajectory of the Anthropos […]. Sylvia Wynter, W.E.B. DuBois, and Achille Mbembe all showed how that genealogy of [White subjecthood] was [...] articulated through sixteenth- through nineteenth-century [historiographies and discourses] in the context of colonialism, [...] as well as forming the material praxis of their rearrangement (through mining, ecological rearrangements and extractions, and forms of geologic displacements such as plantations, dams, fertilizers, crops, and introduction of “alien” animals). […] As Wynter (2000) commented, “The degradation of concrete humans, that was/is the price of empire, of the kind of [Eurocentric epistemology] that underlies it” (154).
Text by: Kathryn Yusoff. “The Inhumanities.” Annals of the American Association of Geographers, Volume 11, Issue 3. November 2020.
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As Yarimar Bonilla suggests in regard to post-Irma-and-Maria Puerto Rico, “vulnerability is not simply a product of natural conditions; it is a political state and a colonial condition.” Many in the Caribbean therefore speak about the coloniality of disaster, and the unnaturalness of these “natural” disasters [...]. Others describe this temporality by shifting [...] toward an idea of the Plantationocene [...]. As Moore and her colleagues write, “Plantation worlds, both past and present, offer a powerful reminder that environmental problems cannot be decoupled from histories of colonialism, capitalism, and racism that have made some human beings more vulnerable [...].” [W]e see that contemporary uneven socioecologies associated with the rise of the industrial world ["the Anthropocene"] are based [...] also on the racialized denial and foreshortening of life for the sacrificial majority of black, brown, and Indigenous people and their relegation to the “sacrifice zones” of extractive industry. [...] [A]ny appropriate response to the contemporary climate emergency must first appreciate its foundations in the past history of the violent, coercive, transatlantic system of plantation slavery; in the present global uneven development, antiblackness, and border regimes that shape human vulnerability [...] that continues to influence who has access to resources, safety, and preferable ecologies [...] and who will be relegated to the “plantation archipelagoes” (as Sylvia Wynter called them) [...].
Text by: Mimi Sheller. “Thinking Beyond Coloniality: Toward Radical Caribbean Futures.” Small Axe (2021), 25 (2 (65)), pages 169-170. Published 1 July 2021. [Bold emphasis added by me.]
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Indigenous genocide and removal from land and enslavement are prerequisites for power becoming operationalized in premodernity [...]; it was/is a means to operationalize extraction (therefore race should be considered as foundational rather than as periphery to the production of those structures and of global space). [...] Wynter suggests that we […] consider 1452 as the beginning of the New World, as African slaves are put to work on the first plantations on the Portuguese island of Madeira, initiating the “sugar-slave” complex - a massive replantation of ecologies and forced relocation of people […]. Wynter argues that the invention of the figure of Man in 1492 as the Portuguese [and Spanish] travel to the Americas instigates at the same time “a refiguring of humanness” in the idea of race. [...] The natal moment of the 1800 Industrial Revolution, […] [apparently] locates Anthropocene origination in […] the "new" metabolisms of technology and matter enabled by the combination of fossil fuels, new engines, and the world as market. […] The racialization of epistemologies of life and nonlife is important to note here […]. While [this industrialization in the nineteenth century] […] undoubtedly transformed the atmosphere with […] coal, the creation of another kind of weather had already established its salient forms in the mine and on the plantation. Paying attention to the prehistory of capital and its bodily labor, both within coal cultures and on plantations that literally put “sugar in the bowl” (as Nina Simone sings) […]. The new modes of material accumulation and production in the Industrial Revolution are relational to and dependent on their preproductive forms in slavery […]. In 1833, Parliament finally abolished slavery in the British Caribbean, and the taxpayer payout of £20 million in “compensation” [paid by the government to slave owners for their lost "property"] built the material, geophysical (railways, mines, factories), and imperial infrastructures of Britain and its colonial enterprises and empire. [...] A significant proportion of funds were invested in the railway system connecting London and Birmingham (home of cotton production and […] manufacturing for plantations), Cambridge and Oxford, and Wales and the Midlands (for coal). Insurance companies flourished [...]. The slave-sugar-coal nexus both substantially enriched Britain and made it possible for it to transition into a colonial industrialized power […]. The slave trade […] fashioned the economic conditions (and institutions, such as the insurance and finance industries) for industrialization.
Text by: Kathryn Yusoff. "White Utopia/Black Inferno: Life on a Geologic Spike". e-flux Journal Issue #97. February 2019. [Bold emphasis added by me.]
#sorry for being mean#instructor makes podcasts about cowboys HELP ME#and he recently won a New Business award for his startup magazine covering Democrat party politics in local area HELP#so hes constantly performing this like dance between new hip beerfest winebar coolness and oldfashioned masculinity#but hes in charge of the certificate program so i have to just shut up and keep my head down for approximately one year#his email address is almost identical to mine and invokes enviro history terms but i made mine long before when i was ten years old#so i could log in to fieldherpforum dot com to talk about enviro history of distribution range changes in local reptiles and amphibians#sir if you read my blog then i apologize ive had a long year#and i cant do anything to escape i am disabled i am constantly sick im working fulltime i have NO family i have NO resources#i took all of this schools graduate level enviro history courses and seminars years ago and ran the geography and enviro hist club#but then left in final semester because sudden hospitalization and crippled and disabled which led to homelessness#which means that as far as any profession or school is concerned im nobody im a retail employee#i was doing conference paper revisions while sleeping on concrete vomiting walking around on my cane to find outdoor wifi#and im not kidding the MONTH i got back into a house and was like ok going back to finish the semester the school had#put my whole degree program and department in moratorium from lack of funding#and so required starting some stuff from scratch and now feel like a hostage with debt or worsening health that could pounce any moment#to even get back in current program i was working sixteen hours a day to pay old library fines and had to delicately back out of workplace#where manager was straight up violently physically abusive to her vulnerable employees and threatened retaliation#like an emotional torturer the likes of which i thought existed only in cartoons#and the week i filed for student aid a massive storm had knocked out electricity for days and i was clearing fallen tree debris#and then sitting in the dark in my room between job shifts no music no phone no food with my fingers crossed and i consider it a miracle#sorry dont mean to dramatize or draw attention to myself#so actually im happy you and i are alive
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trashydez · 3 months ago
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enter stage roleswap wrightworth
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yk, this is supposed to be a part of a group of sketches further going into the au but god do i not have the energy to colour allat rn
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