The true political issue, the one that debates over gay origins are created to distract from, is whether queer individuals should be given rights. Should human beings be bullied into committing suicide? Should human beings be denied the ability to conceive or adopt children? Should human beings be paid less than other human beings who do the same job, or fired from their jobs despite doing them well? Should human beings be prevented from inheriting money or from visiting their loved ones in the hospital? Should human beings be tortured, raped, killed? Should human beings be left on the street to freeze because the homeless shelter won't take them? Should human beings be denied medical care? Should human beings be denied respect, dignity, basic human rights?
It honestly doesn't matter whether or not I chose it; I'm here now, and now I want equality. Now I want an end to heterosexism. Now I want rights.
21 Days for Dreamwidth( a few more )
Silence = Death. If fictional people are silenced by their authors, then fuck yeah, we're marching right the fuck in and giving them voices.
PlansGet on plane. Change planes in New York. Maybe briefly meet up with Kajsa in Baltimore. Get self + suitcase to the Haus of Fangirl in MD.
(In case you hadn't noticed, I am sometimes overinvested in my job.)
* Pretty sure I bought the "history of queer rock bands" mentioned in that article, too. HomoCore: The Loud and Raucous Rise of Queer Rock, which was prominently displayed in the front room.
And so, when we were about 16 or 17, one of my friends discovered fanfiction in general and slash fiction in particular. In a way, we used it as a silent, secret rebellion, swapping these stories underground (no, really; our common room was in a basement). It fascinated me. Here were stories about people who presented as female one day and male the next, who loved people of their gender, who negotiated sex, who didn't have happily-ever-afters but who had to talk and argue and reconfigure their friendship. The screen did not coyly fade to black and the story often did not end with sex; instead, there were morning-afters and misunderstandings and confusion that had to be resolved. The people had agency and were active participants and, as the_shoshanna notes, sex did not fundamentally change them.
So, you want to learn more about the dw_suggestions process! This entry will be made the "sticky entry" in the dw_suggestions community (replacing the existing one, which was starting to show its age) to serve as an introduction to the Suggestions process, Dreamwidth development, and just what the heck people should be keeping in mind while they're discussing things here.
We are therefore temporarily pausing the existing import jobs until the traffic clears up some and we are able to further modify the importer so that it is even less of a load on LJ. We are also temporarily stopping the ability to queue new imports, so that once we bring the import queue back up, it will give the queue the chance to clear a bit. (Also, we'd like to minimize the impact on LJ.)
Shapeways user Ceramicwombat created these great "thorn dice" and they're available in a number of polymers and metals, fresh and piping hot from the 3D printer.... now to come up with some kind of gift-giving occasion so I can order a set for my boyfriend.
From that last entry, you'd think that growing up queer in suburban Alaska was pretty rough. I didn't think I had it particularly hard at the time. It was not like I had it half as bad as it could have been. I felt lucky to have it as good as I did.
I find the thought of limits as enabling rather than confining really rather exciting, because it does tend to mesh with my experiences across quite diverse fields of endeavour.
That if there is no particular reason to go in a particular direction or get stuck into a particular task or if you're facing an enormous supermarket full of choices, it can really be somewhat paralysing.
SuperBetter is a superhero-themed game that turns getting better in multi-player adventure. It’s designed to help anyone recovering from an injury, or coping with a chronic condition, get better, sooner – with more fun, and with less pain and misery, along the way.
I do this for regular sex, too. If I can say that no, we're not raw-dogging it; no, you're not sneaking it up my ass; no, you really have to stop when I say stop; then I can say "yes" to the sex itself. Limits may feel all limity, but within those limits, some fucking hot sex can happen. Without limits, you're not allowed in my house, much less my vagina.
My bedroom isn't very large so I needed a small makeup vanity. I'm the type that likes to see all my makeup because if I don't see it, I won't use it.
The Prophet, peace and blessing upon him, said:
"Help your brother, whether he be an oppressor or one of the oppressed."
Some said "O Messenger of God, we help him if he is oppressed; but how can we help him if he is an oppressor?"
The Prophet said, "By stopping him."
So I was digging around in the archives of Mix Magazine which is a trade magazine for audio engineers, and thought some of the following articles might be of interest to bandom folks:
...So the other day I did that Dinosaur Comics fanart where they have feathers?
And Ryan North, creator of Dinosaur Comics, found out about it somehow, and he went back in the archives and has posted an alternate, scientifically accurate version of the comic starting at the beginning.
Editing my stories as I did was an act of self-erasure: sometimes necessary to survive, but not okay, never okay, merely the lesser of two evils. Pretending that the world only contains straight people is not okay. Teaching your children that the world only contains straight people is not okay. It is a denial of that-which-is, a denial of c'thia. Treating any mention of same-sex romance as inherently more sexually explicit than an equivalent action of an opposite-sex couple is not okay. Trying to pretend that the only possible ethical instance of human sexual behavior is for reproduction is not okay. Teaching your children that is not okay either.
I've also realized that I am experiencing some twitchiness about my relationship, and engaging in some (logical but still not healthy) sabotaging behaviors. Not ready to blog about it, I don't think.
I'll be back in New Orleans in less than a month. I'm supposed to be working on my extended bibliography because I'm meeting with my advisor again on Wednesday, but today is just not the day for getting anything done. I made myself a sandwich and I sorted my stuff from the clean laundry and put it away. The rest of my day has been playing a silly little puzzle game over and over, and leaving a chat window open with Cory on the other end. It's comforting.
I’m still a beaten girlfriend somewhere deep down.
I’m realizing who profoundly affected I really am by it all, to this day. My self-esteem was never great to begin with, but staying in a physically and emotionally abusive relationship for years trained even that scant confidence out of me. And while, believe it or not, I’ve scraped a fair amount back for myself, if we’re making comparisons, I can’t escape the learned worthlessness that was my liturgy for so long.
When I ask a person not to engage in rape apologia in this space, because it is my space and I have not only not consented to host rape apologia here, but have also explicitly and repeatedly deemed it off-limits, and that person continues to engage in rape apologia nonetheless, without regard for my boundaries or personal autonomy, that's not exactly someone who's demonstrating a commitment to the notions of consent, autonomy, and respect.
That's someone who's leveraging the values of a rape culture to violate my boundaries.
That's someone who's acting like a fucking rapist.
Rape is different than other types of violent crime. In my mind, rape is a lot like a hate crime, targeted at a particular group in order to scare and intimidate them. The reason we punish hate crimes differently than other crimes is because they affect the behavior of more than one person. An assault is always bad; we don't, as a society, condone assault (at least I hope we don't). But an assault perpetrated against a member of a particular community, let's say, or against a person of a particular ethnic background and infused with the intent to intimidate and scare everyone else who shares that background causes a lot more ripples than an assault that doesn't have that motivation. I can be scared of crime when I leave my house, but I'm not afraid that someone will specifically target me because of my gender or race. I don't have to worry that someone, seeking to work out their own misogyny or racism will choose to do violence on my body to satisfy their own issues. If I did, you'd better bet that it would change my behavior. I'd be a whole hell of a lot more careful about what I said, where I went, and how I acted.
Anyway, this is just a rambling list of examples, but I guess I'm listing them just because it frustrates me so much, the way these creators are all huge fucking cowards who aren't brave enough to write a queer character into their children's book, their tv show, their novel; huge fucking cowards who blame the episode running long or the whims of the story itself (the story just never went there! it's like novels are magical creatures with self-determined lives of their own and not texts written by people!) for the fact that queerness is reduced to subtextual or extratextual appearances; huge fucking cowards who will use this not-quite-queer not-quite-not-queer kind of character to simultaneously protect themselves from criticism (if Dumbledore's not gay in the actual book, then his unrequited love for a monster isn't problematic) and protect themselves from the accusation that they fail to include queers. It's a giant pile of bullshit.
Went to a wedding on Saturday (it was lovely), then to the afterparty (where I spent a long time explaining my research to my brand new friend Jeremy). Groceries Sunday; Ellie wanted to try a new grocery store that's closer than our usual, but it's a bit more expensive, missing various items we use regularly, and really annoying to shop at. Monday evening, after Ellie got back from buying several hundred pounds of lumber in New Hampshire, we went to the mall. Ellie got a coat and a shirt, but not the pants she was actually looking for. I got a dress for my Halloween costume and pants for future MCR concerts - both on clearance, woooo! (And in online shopping news, I bought a Turkish spindle and a colorful batt called Show Pony.)
In schmoopy relationship news, Cory and I are apparently taking a short trip to Minneapolis (I predict some squabbling over road trip music; we have very different philosophies about music in general). Also, you can see my increased comfort in this relationship by the contents of my suitcase: last time, I packed dresses and shoes and makeup. This time I am packing, uh idk, some clothes? and also some fiber. And a surprise! (because I feel like that would be a nice thing to do), so help me think up TSA-approved surprises? Also also: he knows this journal exists and he knows exactly where it is and I make mostly public posts - and yet he refuses to read it. IDGI.
Links( Read more... )
Moment of silence, please, for my Really Really Ridiculously Gay Purse Strap.
The RRRGPS started with a black purse I bought at PacSun many years ago. It came with two interchangeable straps: one with pyramid studs and one with grommets. I preferred the latter, and eventually wove a rainbow shoelace through the grommets.
Then more rainbows: I slipped a bangle I wasn't wearing (bracelets tend to drive me nuts) onto the strap, and tied a ring onto the long end of the shoelace. Both were made of layered plastic, and I was pleased to have found a way to use them.
And then the buttons. An assortment of sizes on the front of the purse (I lost one in the pit at a TAI... show ages ago, another few fell off at random), and one-inch buttons attached to the shoelace. Some funny, some geographic allegiance stuff, but mostly queer pins.
I haven't used the purse in a really long time, because the strap was disintegrating. The snaps were working their way out of the fabric.
But there is still the other strap. I won't be able to thread the studded strap with a shoelace or cover it in little buttons, but I can just shift them to the body of the purse instead.( photos )
This post brought to you by "it's two in the morning and I tried to sleep, really I did, but I am too wound up to reach unconsciousness."
I'll be out of town August 14-21. While I'll have internet access, I have no idea how much I'll be online. But rest assured I'll catch up even if I can't keep up.
Bosses and one reference desk person are away for the Society of American Archivists conference. Work is freakishly quiet.
Busy couple of days. Tuesday morning, I hauled a box of fun surprises to the post office (since the TSA probably frowns on taking rope in your carry-on), went to work, and then went to Diesel to meet up with shadesong and receive my BARCC auction winnings: a lovely flogger. After that, I ran into Andra and spent forever telling her about C. (she kept asking questions, and I am still flush with omgyay).
Yesterday I got some purple dye, and this morning before work, I put it in my hair to see what it would do. Not a lot, as it turns out: my hair is too dark. Now it's even darker, with something of a blue cast to it. While kinda disappointing, it's not actually surprising, and it's definitely not a bad result.
Leaving for Grand Forks at stupid o'clock Saturday morning. Clothes are basically picked out, and toiletries are selected and quart-size bagged.
I know so little about you, I'm afraid my question is quite pedestrian! What would your dream job be?
Pretty close to what I'm doing right now. I want to be an archivist full-time, as my real grownup job. But I'm not thrilled with the idea of meetings and managing other people, which my bosses at work have to do. I just want to work with the collections.
I want to write about "lazy femme," which is what I call my gender presentation. In short: I like things like skirts and makeup, but I don't generally bother with these more effortful bits of gendered plumage.( 11 links )
More packing, go to bed, sleep, get up, go to work, come home, eat dinner, finish packing, go to bed, get up, get on airplane, arrive in Grand Forks, get laid.
Since they're what I listened to at work today.
1. fairestcat: Some meta recs and a tangent about my own participation in these conversations
2. helens78: geek conventions and body/self image
3. sanguinity: There Are Some Battles That I Do Not, Will Not, or Can Not Fight
4. yvi: Dev \o/
5. roga: "APPARENTLY NORWAY IS SENDING TO THE EUROVISION THE LOVE CHILD OF JOHN SHEPPARD AND ADAM LAMBERT"
Daily Song (right-click): Taking Back Sunday - Sink Into Me
I wore a skirt today!* I also made a very poor decision with regards to shoes. I've worn this pair before, but I guess never without socks or tights or something. I could feel that they were rubbing on my heels, but I didn't pay much attention until I was already at work and had a bunch of boxes out, since it didn't hurt that much. And then I happened to actually look at my feet, and there was kind of a lot of blood going on. I had to use four bandaids from the archives supply (normally reserved for treating paper cuts, methinks), and shall be wearing sandals for several days, until the wounds heal.
*Skirts are a big deal for me, since they take more effort than pants. I find them harder to coordinate with tops, and I tend to get nasty razor burn when I shave my legs, and I have to figure out shoes (since socks look dumb, and I don't own many pairs of stockings/pantyhose, and *points up* going without is not always feasible), and they're harder to wear in cold weather. So my skirt collection is sadly underutilized.
( three weeks for dreamwidth links, part whatever )
I foresee using this icon a lot while I'm in New Orleans this summer, and I need to upload one of the "emphasizin ur POC" icons as well.
I have missed my one-year anniversary on Dreamwidth. But it was because I had papers to write, so I will just commemorate it now.
( links galore )
( today's links )
Roller derby: awesome! We had to learn the rules and scoring practices through osmosis (and really could not hear the commentators well at all). We also ate some fried dough (truth in advertising!), which was basically a large flat beignet. Nomnomnom.
This morning, we went to the Flea at MIT. The original plan was for me to take the train; Ellie was driving but she had already promised every possible seat in her car to people from Wireless Club. But two cancellations later, I had a ride, yay.
Here are pictures of the things I got! Since I, uh, don't know what some of these doodads are called.
( Not that it matters that much. I'm just going to wrap them in wire anyway. )