דיינה ; she/her/thon; thirty-something "elder"; settled colonial subject in the crumbling core of old world imperialism; Marxist (Leninist adjacent); bisexual genderqueer transfem; anti-zionist Ashkenazi Jew; erstwhile trade union organiser; occasional lumpenproletarian; kinky poly-ish daddy/switch (these are all shortcuts; I'm far more complex, perhaps even interesting, than just a handful of essentialisms). I like making friends and connecting with comrades, if you ever fancy messaging me. That said, I'm not in the market for any services of any kind, and - full disclosure - I do not take kindly to liberals, let alone zionists or 'centrists' or the fascist right wing, all of whom I consider dangerous enemies of the people. I've also got a cornucopia of sideblogs: damnesdelamer.tumblr.com is my stockpile of politics and agitprop; hurtlikeawarehouse.tumblr.com is my cache of pop culture; thecreaturefair.tumblr.com is my menagerie of nonhuman comrades; drybonescanharm.tumblr.com is my athenæum of living landscapes; worshiptheflaw.tumblr.com is my stash of eroticised human forms. comegreetthedawn.tumblr.com is my backup (which I don't check)
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life can't be that bad when there's still cat and other assorted creatures
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That is the background of the whole record, I mean if you have to come up with a philosophical ground, that is “Ring the bells that still can ring”.
It’s no excuse… the dismal situation... and the future is no excuse for an abdication of your own personal responsibilities towards yourself and your job and your love.
“Ring the bells that still can ring”: they’re few and far between but you can find them.
“Forget your perfect offering” that is the hang-up that you’re gonna work this thing out. Because we confuse this idea and we’ve forgotten the central myth of our culture which is the expulsion from the garden of Eden.
This situation does not admit of solution of perfection. This is not the place where you make things perfect, neither in your marriage, nor in your work, nor anything, nor your love of God, nor your love of family or country. The thing is imperfect.
And worse, there is a crack in everything that you can put together, physical objects, mental objects, constructions of any kind. But that’s where the light gets in, and that’s where the resurrection is and that’s where the return, that’s where the repentance is. It is with the confrontation, with the brokenness of things.
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Wishing all amab nb people who don't perform the femininity or androgyny that people expect from non-cis amab people a very nice Friday.
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I have conquered your master, I’m your master now 👹🖤
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