#there's better places to use that energy. like informing yall on some history and talking about marches/strikes
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elegyofthemoon · 9 months ago
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I'm getting the feeling that I'll be seeing a lot of Zionists' comments on my posts unfortunately, but I'll inform everyone about them if you want to block and move on
This was off my strike posts earlier
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If you missed the last one I had posted
Let's not forget that Israel refused HAMAS's deal to release hostages, by the way.
And just the other day, I found out that Israel's always had a plan for ethnic cleansing and recommend everyone to look into what's known as Plan Dalet created back in 1948.
Peace was never in Israel's plans -- genocide was.
Reminder: Bisan has called for marches for Ceasefire between today to the 20th, and there is an ongoing strike that started today extending to the 25th.
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romolite · 4 years ago
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*Important FAQ*
Aka questions that pertain to what I usually post about or stuff I don’t like getting asks about but continue to get asks about regardless.
[Insert any invasive question about my ethnicity/race]
I’m Ghanaian American. My parents were born in Ghana and I was born here in the US. I’ve seen it more on twitter and tumblr, but Black Africans don’t like me because I’m American, and black Americans don’t like me because I’m African. So I’m stuck in the middle lmao. I’m what you’d consider a First-Generation African, my parents are Continental Africans, and if I have children, they will be considered Generational African Americans.
First Generation African: A black person born in the US to parents who were born in Africa
Generational African American: A black person born in the US to US-born black parent(s)
Continental African: A black person born in Africa to parents who were also born in Africa
Non is just a prefix, black people don’t have a monopoly on the term! I suppose you think nonbinary people are racist huh?
Yeah sure it wasnt coined by black people but the context it’s currently used as was predominantly used by black people. ALL people who are not black benefit from and contribute to antiblackness, even if they are marginalized themselves. That kind of dynamic doesnt exist in other contexts (unless we’re talking about transfem + transmisogyny, but that’s something you’d have to talk to someone who is transfem about. Plus they have their own word for  “non-transfem”). Using it in contexts outside of antiblackness is appropriative (Yall are annoying as fuck with the “non-aspec” “non-lesbian”(this term also has anti-bi roots btw) “non-bi” shit etc, stop it. You also can’t complain about the “replacement terms” lumping yall with oppressors when “non-x” does the exact same thing you’re so worried about. “Cis” puts cis gays with cis hets, cis disabled people with cis abled people, cis white people with cis poc, I could go on.) 
Plus we’re talking about marginalized groups here. Black people are a marginalized group. Binary people as a whole are not so the term nonbinary isn’t appropriate at all.  I dont take issue with terms like “nonamerican” or “nonwhite” because (obviously) whites + americans as a whole aren’t oppressed for being white or american.
Basically using "non-x” in contexts to talk about oppression bad, everything else good.
Follow up: If we can’t use non-[marginalized group], what can we use instead?
There are other words to describe the people you’re talking about
non-transfem- TME
non-LGBT- cishet, or people who aren’t LGBT
non-trans - cis
Black people don’t have a monopoly on the acronym nb! I’ll call myself nb if I want to!
At this point I dont really care, go on your antiblack crusade elsewhere and out of my inbox, I’m always gonna mean nonblack when I use the acronym nb. 
And yes, you’re antiblack as fuck if you think black people telling you “nb” stands for “nonblack” is the same as exclusionists claiming “aspec” is for autistic people.
Is x AAVE?
I have a tag dedicated to what is and is not aave and how harmful it is for nonblacks to use aave given its history. I know some things overlap with southern culture but others are specifically for black people. A lot of “stan twitter” language/slang is just repackaged AAVE. No, I can’t tell you how to stop using AAVE. Don’t tell me you’re going to try to stop using AAVE, I don’t want to hear it.
Why don’t you like the n-word being compared to LGBT slurs?
Race and Sexuality/Gender aren’t comparable topics because each deals with a different history of oppression. I don’t care about slur discourse that much because I don’t even use/reclaim any myself except the n-word.
I have a problem with nonblack LGBT people co-opting black culture and struggle(like they always do), especially for trivial online discourse.
And to be honest it goes deeper than slur discourse. Every other day someone is weaponizing the oppression of black trans women, or comparing “cishet aces/aros” in the LGBT community to white/nonblack people invading black spaces (you know, something that ACTUALLY takes resources away from the people who need it, see the cultural appropriation of Black African and Blac American culture in literally any nonblack community while black people get demonized for said culture), or tokenizing their black friends to get away with something blatantly racist. And that’s not even getting into how a lot of gay slang/stan culture is just repurposed AAVE/black culture.
And I’m not gonna lie, I’ve seen this more with exclusionist accounts than inclus accounts, but it’s still not excusable for inclus to do that either. We get erased as black gay/trans/queer/aspec people up until it’s time for discourse accounts to bring us up to one-up each other
Can you give me advice on x?
Most likely not, because I’m not an expert or an advice blog. I’ll try, but don't take my word for it. I’m also tme, able-bodied, not Jewish, singlet, etc, so I’m not able to accurately answer questions about transmisogyny, (physical?) ableism, antisemitism, “sycourse”, etc.
I might be able to give advice on school-related stuff since I just graduated high school, but remember that students are not a monolith, and what worked for me may not work for someone else.
Can I follow if I’m nonblack/a minor/cishet?
Nonblack and/or cishet can follow but watch your step, minors blacklist the #minors dni tag before following
Why do you hate Ao3?
*long sigh*
I don't, I have a problem with the fact that it allows racist and (frankly voyeuristic) pedophilic/abusive/incestuous content to exist on its platform. It’s a good concept overall, but the devs are complicit in allowing “underage” and “noncon/dubcon” fics on their platform.
And there's the fact that they somehow need donations every year despite exceeding their goal several times over each year?
What’s wrong with Hazbin Hotel/The Ships/Vivziepop?
[WIP, as I have to go into extensive detail about this and I currently don’t have the energy for it]
TLDR: Viv made a half-assed apology for supporting racists (one of whom did blackface [yes the mask was used to do blackface shut up] to mock black activist) and drawing gross content. Her current projects including Hazbin Hotel are full of anti-gay/trans/aspec (Angel Dust, Vaggie, Alastor), antisemetic (Mimzy), and racist (Vaggie again, that yellow cyclops character that I’ve forgotten the name of) content under the guise of humor. If you’re into that shit, whatever, just don’t follow me and don’t whine when I make posts criticizing it.
What’s wrong with Hamilton?
Aside from the fact that it’s very obviously glorifying slave owners and made people worldwide believe the founding fathers were good people, LMM, the creator, is nonblack. This isn't his story to tell at all. 
Can you tag x?
I have a list of things I usually tag because they come upon this blog a lot. I cannot do catch all tags, as I have way too many followers for that. The closest thing to that is the “ask to tag” tag when there’s something potentially triggering but I’m not sure what it is. Everything is tagged as “x tw”. If something is extremely triggering, I’ll tag it as “major tw”
Do you tag slurs?
I tag slurs I’m not able to reclaim at all (i.e., d slur, f slur, t slur) or slurs I can reclaim but are being used as a slurs. I don’t tag the n-word, as I reclaim that one. I always tag the r slur
Can I message you about something/someone?
Unless you’re a mutual, most likely no. My DMs are only open to mutuals.
Do you want to be mutuals?
I don’t usually follow back people who follow me, especially if you’re under 16 or post things I’m not interested in.
Why is it important to have byf or about?
1) So I know gross people aren’t following me. This is not up for discussion
2) So I know someone’s not speaking out of their lane, which tends to happen a lot. (i.e, someone refusing to disclose that they are tme when discussing transmisogyny, someone not having their race listed when discussing racism)
3) Some people don’t want to interact with people under 18 or over like 30 or something.
Yeah, yeah, people aren’t entitled to personal information and all that crap but I have a serious problem with people speaking on topics from a place of privilege. Not to say they can’t talk about those things, just perhaps add a disclaimer that you’re privileged when talking about these things and be open to criticism, and NOT blocking people of the said marginalized group when they tell you something you’ve said was problematic.
I also have a problem with people who are intentionally vague about their age. There’s a difference between interacting with someone who’s 20 and someone who’s 29. I don’t want to say it’s the opposite for minors but at the same time there’s a difference for saying something racist at 13 and doing so at 17, and keeping your age vague makes it harder to determine how to deal with something like that. (Not that 13-year-olds shouldn’t know better, it’s just I don’t feel whole ass callout posts and receipt blogs are necessary for someone of that age).
Also anyone under 16, I can't stop you from following, but keep your interaction limited, please. This isnt an 18+ blog but I do rb suggestive jokes from time to time
I sent you an ask and you never answered it!
It’s likely that
I never got it
You were blocked
I’ve already answered this or it’s been answered in my faq
It’s a random positivity ask (which I appreciate but not sure how to respond to those)
You were rude in your ask and I didn’t feel like answering
I forgot until it was too late, which happens when my inbox gets a lot of asks at a time.
You sent it to the wrong blog (I.e, sending asks about my ocs to this blog instead of @ochood )
Hey, the op is [insert post] is [someone on my dni]! I usually double-check myself, just to be sure.
Have you heard about [someone who is mutuals with someone I’m loosely connected with]?
Most likely, no. And unless they’re an immediate danger to someone or they’ve got my name in their mouth, I don’t care.
Do you know who [x person/group/thing] is?Most likely no. Not to sound like a hipster but I don't usually keep up to date with trends. If I do hear about something, it’s most likely from twitter or Instagram.
Why am I blocked? Check here.
Why do you continuously move mains/change URLs/update themes?
I’m inconsistent. And sometimes there are posts on my blog that I no longer stand by.
Can I tag you in posts I think I’d like?Of course! 
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memories-are-mine · 5 years ago
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We Survived the Crisis, Babe
I was lazy about posting these on here so yall can have 2 (two) chapters today! 
Comment to get on the taglist! 
ao3 
Chapter 7 - Ethan
Ethan woke up to the sound of laughter, of elated shouts and the name ‘Becky Barnes.’ He decided to wait to process that information until he sorted out whatever drug trip he was on. 
He was feeling somehow better than he had before, despite dying, coming back to life, and proceeding to be drugged by his shop teacher and his nurse friend. His head felt clear despite the tranquilizer, and when he tried to move his bad arm, he found it didn’t hurt. He could still feel that the stab wound wasn’t there, but even that didn’t hurt so much anymore. 
What was happening? 
He opened his eyes and found Hannah’s face just above his, staring at him intently. He jumped a little bit. 
“Jesus Christ, Banana Split,” he murmured. “You scared me.” 
“Sorry,” Hannah whispered, moving so she wasn’t directly above Ethan’s face. She was cradling Ethan’s head in her lap. “Was worried. But the hat worked. Just like Webby said.” 
Ethan reached up a hand and found that he was wearing his hat, the hat he had given Hannah that morning outside Toy Zone. The hat he had told her was magic. Thinking about it, the fact that he’d had a magical hat in his possession wasn’t any weirder than anything else he’d experienced today. 
“The hat?” He whispered, matching Hannah’s tone. “Is it magic?” 
Hannah nodded, then looked around fearfully. “Lets Webby help. But they got us.” 
“Wait,” Ethan said. “Who got us?” 
Hannah gestured towards a large group of people clustered around the stairs to the second floor, who currently had their backs to them. “Bad guys. Lady in the black cape. They want Wiggly.” 
Fortunately, whoever the bad people were seemed to be ignoring them for now. 
With a grunt, Ethan sat up, and Hannah pressed herself against his side. He put an arm around her instinctively. 
He was surprised he had the energy to do that, but he thought about what Hannah said. The hat he was wearing let Webby help. Maybe she was the one behind this, sustaining him. 
You’re right,  Webby said in his head. The hat enables me to lend you the strength to survive. But my power has limits. Especially here. 
Ethan almost felt ecstatic. Webby was watching over him and Hannah. Whatever these assholes wanted, whatever they had in store for Ethan and Hannah, they had a spider from outer space watching over them. That made him feel a lot better.
“But where are we?” He wondered aloud. 
One glance around both answered his question and made him want to throw up. He and Hannah were in Toy Zone, but it was a mess. The register had been thrown against the wall, and the giant spool of twine they used for gift-wrapping was thrown carelessly in the middle of the floor. Lex had always made fun of that twine. 
Where are these kids gonna take ‘em? The fucking jungle? Why are we gift wrapping children’s toys with literal rope? She would always say. 
That wasn’t the part that made Ethan want to throw up. 
 The rest of the place was practically destroyed, too, save for a shelf of plush unicorns and a bin of flowery aluminium child’s softball bats tucked away in the corner. Why the unicorns had been spared, Ethan really wasn’t sure he wanted to know. That wasn’t the throw up part either. 
The throw up part was that ten feet away from where Ethan and Hannah lay, there was the dead body of Frank Pricely, Lex’s boss. He was lying in a pool of blood, flies already starting to gather around his body. Ethan had never liked the guy, but now he felt sorry for him. 
There was no sign of Lex. 
Ethan’s heart sank. What had these people done with her? 
He almost wanted to call out to her, but also really did not want to attract the attention of the cluster around the stairs, who were now laughing raucously. 
“And the only man that’s after her now is Jack Daniels!” Said a high-pitched, annoying woman’s voice that sounded familiar for some reason. 
It brought the entire house down. All of the adults, and adults they all seemed to be, apparently collectively thought that this was the most hilarious thing that they’d ever heard. 
“Whatever that joke was,” Ethan murmured. “It cannot have been that funny.” 
“Shhhh!” Hannah whispered. 
“Hey!” He heard. “The boy’s awake.” 
He looked towards the stairs to find that the entire cult was now staring at them. Without a word, Ethan slipped the hat off his head and gave it to Hannah. She took it without protest. 
“Yes, yes, excellent,” said the same woman’s voice. Where did Ethan know that voice from? “Bring the other heretics to me!” 
Hair-a-ticks? 
Ethan didn’t know what that word meant, but it didn’t sound good. Was it some type of insect? Why would this lady be calling them bugs? 
“What’s a hair-a-tic?” He whispered to Hannah. 
Before she had a chance to answer, the group surrounded them. They hauled Ethan up by the arms and ripped Hannah away from him, pulling her along by her hair. 
“Hey!” he shouted indignantly. “Let her go!” 
The adults completely ignored him. They shoved him and Hannah forward and they stumbled to the bottom of the stairs, then circled around them, boxing them in so that they couldn’t escape. 
Ethan glanced around. His heart was racing. Becky Nursing Scrubs was here, too, but still very much unconscious and being held by two of the psychopaths who had brought them here. She would be of no help. 
Heretic, Webby decided that now would be a great time to play dictionary in his mind, providing a helpful definition that just made things worse. It’s a religious word. It means betraying a certain religion. 
A shiver went down Ethan’s spine. Whoever these people were, they were calling Ethan and Hannah traitors. If there was one thing that Ethan remembered from Ancient History class, it was that traitors were punished by death. 
He had to get them out of this. He owed that to Lex. Also, he was not going to die in a fucking Toy Zone. 
“Get Becky Barnes out of my sight!” The woman’s voice, coming from directly above them now, ordered. 
Ethan looked up and gasped. He did know who this woman was, from the local cable channels that always interviewed her, and the way she had sneered at Ethan, talked down to him when he had been friends with Peter Monroe back in Elementary school. 
The leader of this insane cult, the religion that was after God-knew-what, and who had captured Ethan and Hannah, was the President of the Hatchetfield Boating Society, Linda Monroe. 
The two men holding Becky complied with Linda’s orders, dragging her through a door to the backroom, and out of sight. 
“What should we do with him?” One of the men asked, indicating Ethan. Ethan recognized his voice as the one that had raised the alarm that Ethan was awake. He glanced over. The man who had raised the alarm wore a blue zip-up hoodie and a checkered baseball cap. He looked chillingly familiar. Not because Ethan knew him from the outside world, but because it was one of the men who had attacked him and Hannah outside the Cineplex. The one who’d run his knife through Ethan like it was nothing.
“What have you done with Lex?” Ethan demanded, looking wildly around him. Now that he had their attention, he might as well use it. “Tell me where she is!” 
The man with the baseball cap stepped forward and Ethan met his eyes evenly. He could not show fear. Not now. 
There was a brief staring contest between them, then, out of nowhere, the man who’d stabbed him swung out his hand and struck Ethan across the face. He stumbled backward, more out of surprise than pain, though the man could hit, Ethan would give him that. 
“Leave him alone!” Hannah screamed. 
“You’ll speak when you’re spoken to!” Baseball Cap bellowed at Ethan. 
Above them, Linda waved her hand impatiently. 
“Enough, enough. Leave him here,” she said, looking between Hannah, who had run to Ethan’s side when he had been hit, and Ethan, who, despite the circumstances, had to fight the urge to laugh. She looked kind of ridiculous, standing on the steps of a rundown Toy Store like it was the fucking Oscars or something. But there wasn’t anything funny about the hunger in her eyes. “He could be useful.” 
Reluctantly, Baseball Hat backed off. 
“Now,” Linda gave him one of those half-grimace smile things that rich people gave when they had to be polite to people they didn’t like. “As for where your little trailer-trash whore is, I’ll let you wonder about that. And what I might do to you and the little brat here if you don’t behave.” 
“Now, as for you, you little shit.” Linda Monroe wheeled on Hannah, who shrank back. “You’ve kept the shepherd from his flock for too long.”
Ethan moved protectively in front of Hannah. He silently thanked Webby for giving him the strength to stand. 
At a wave of Linda’s hand, two of the cultists marched forward and grabbed Ethan by the arms, pulling him roughly to the edge of the circle as he struggled, but healing though he may have been, Ethan wasn’t at full strength yet. 
“Quit it,” one of the men holding him said, jerking his arm roughly. A flair of pain went through it. That shouldn’t have hurt. 
Webby was losing energy. Ethan could feel it. So he stopped fighting, bided his time. If he was going to make some spectacular move to incapacitate Linda and get them out of this, the timing had to be perfect. 
Hannah started crying, and it made Ethan’s attention snap right back to her. 
“Nuh-uh,” Hannah sobbed, as Linda loomed over her. “Magic hat, nothing can hurt me.” 
Linda scoffed and ripped the hat off of her head. “Magic hat,” she muttered with a laugh, handing it to one of her cronies, a woman with a long skirt and a sweater with a picture of a cat emblazoned on it. 
That was his hat. They couldn’t do that. They also were not allowed to touch Hannah. 
“You little fool,” Linda taunted. “You think a magic hat is going to protect you?” She walked behind Hannah. “That’s ridiculous, only dolls are magic.”
Ethan wanted to shout that magic dolls made about as much sense as magic hats, but Webby reminded him of his goal. He had to wait. Not draw attention to himself. For both his own sake, and Hannah’s. 
Linda Monroe ripped the backpack off of Hannah’s shoulders. She didn’t protest. 
“I’ll be taking mine, thank you very much,” Linda said gleefully as she ripped open the backpack, triumphantly pulling out… nothing. She gasped in total outrage, her face contorting into something like pain. 
Ethan quietly snickered. She was so outraged over a doll it was almost hilarious. 
He stopped laughing when Linda pulled a switchblade out of her expensive-looking purse. 
“Is this some kind of a joke?” Linda Monroe wheeled on Hannah, who stared back defiantly. “Tell me where he is, or I will open your mouth with my fucking kni-AAAGGGH.” 
That last part was courtesy of Ethan’s fist connecting with her nose. He knew it was dumb, a terrible decision, probably the worst decision he’d ever made, and that was saying a lot. But when Linda had pulled the knife on Hannah, he’d snapped. Webby was lending him this strength to protect Hannah, and so protect Hannah he would. No matter what. No one threatened his little sister like that. Ever.
His body thought for him. He surged forward and grabbed Hannah’s hand, pulling her to her feet and began to make a break for it. The cult was so surprised at his recklessness that they didn’t react at first. Out of the corner of his eye, Ethan saw the crazy cat lady holding the baseball cap. He ripped it out of her hands as they passed, her barely resisting. 
Ethan felt ecstatic, he felt unstoppable. It was the best he’d felt all day. All fucking week. He and Hannah were going to make it out of here. Linda wouldn’t get her doll and she’d cry about it into her expensive champagne glass. They’d be on the road to California right after Ethan and Hannah found Lex, who was alive, thank you very much. He almost wanted to laugh as they ran for the exit. 
They didn’t make it. 
Taglist:  @hurricanehellion, @asshole-gay-797, @ethngreen, @just-a-side-kick, @theirishhufflepuff, @somegeekychic, @curse-brekker, @unusual-ly, @softotacoo, @believeinasmilinggodtoday,  @scorpiotrash468
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