subtlemainblog

Reblog if you agree.

goth trans flag 

@batbitequeen

oh fuck

cred to sub.media on fb:

I’m so stealing this chant

Nice.

chant: “anytime, anyplace. punch a nazi in the face. every nation, every race. punch a nazi in the face.“

Full offense but if someone wants you and your kind eradicated violence against them is always justified

“Violence Doesn’t solve anything” but sometimes it does actually

Don’t ever tell Jewish people, poc, LGBT people, disabled people not to express anger at the forces who want them gone. Don’t ever try and silence marginalized voices.

Listen again, none offensive, BUT did you see the kind of people who were at the Nazi marches? More than 50% of them were probably in their 20s-30s. Almost half of the American political discourse consists of baby boomers vs millennial as and it’s fucking hilarious because those were your millennial peers that were at that march. Almost every statistic shows that white millennial haven’t gotten any more racially sensitive or tolerant, this idea that they have and it’s old men who will literally keep over and die any second are the ones leading these fascist marches and not 30 year olds who are literally some think tank publishers, parts of the media class or tech giants lol

PLEASE STOP TRYING TO VIEW YOUTH AS SYNONYMOUS TO RADICAL ACTION OR LEFT WING POLITICS‼️‼️‼️

LET’S NOT FORGET: THE COPS ALLOWED THIS VIOLENCE TO HAPPEN. BLACK LIVES MATTER ARE MET WITH TEAR GAS, K9’S AND RIOT POLICE WHEN THEY ORGANIZE PEACEFUL PROTESTS YET THE POLICE DON’T GIVE A SHIT WHEN A BUNCH OF LITERAL NAZIS RUN AROUND WITH TORCHES ATTACKING STUDENTS. FUCK WHITE PRIDE. FUCK THE POLICE. AND IF YOU “DON’T AGREE”, FUCK YOU.

If you publicly and unreservedly condemn the actions of Nazis in Charlottesville and elsewhere, including everything from quiet hate speech to vehicular terrorism, can you please reblog this post.

I think a few friends, a few followers, every Jew who happens across this post and my own heart could do with knowing that there are more of you out there than there are of them

You know what absolutely boggles my mind? That healthy people exist. Genuinely healthy people. No mental illness, no physical illness, no chronic illness. Just healthy. What a life that must be. 

This fucks with my head though. There are people who get up and feel… Awake, and then they go and just… Do their adult responsibilities without feeling anxious or upset? They just return phonecalls? Answer calls from unknown numbers? Don’t procrastinate doing important things until is a huge problem that makes you cry??

That sounds fake.

reasons why Halloween is the best holiday:

I finally understand about Americans and Halloween

anyways time is fake and nothing is real i’m just living my life from one halloween to the next

I think one of the reasons why a lot of trans kids dye their hair and/or get body jewelry is that it’s probably the most accessible way to modify ourselves.

maybe it helps us, in a tiny way, relieve dysphoria.

like, adding a second floor to this house may be forbidden or take five years to complete, but dammit I’m gonna paint ALL the walls, in all the colors I want, TODAY.

so when people make fun of trans kids, esp. “tumblr trans kids” for having “that look” it does kinda sting

I’ve been contemplating for several days something, and I’ve been trying to distill it into meaning, and put nice little bullet points on how this relates to things that have been bugging me about some common Discourses I’ve been seeing, but at the end, I only really have a story. So here, have a story.

About ten years ago, sometime in the eventful 2006-2007 George W. Bush-ruled hellscape of my identity development, I was just starting to figure out how I felt about my conservative upbringing (not great) and whether I was some brand of queer (probably, but too scared to think about what brand for too long). I was working as a server at a popular Italian-inspired sit-down restaurant that was the closest thing my tiny South Carolinian town had to “fancy” at the time but isn’t really fancy at all.

The host brought a party of four men to one of my tables. It was hard to tell their ages, but my guess is they were teenagers or in their early 20s in the 1980s. Mid-40s, at the time. It was standard to ask if anyone at the table was celebrating anything, so I did. They said they were business partners celebrating a great business deal and would like a bottle of wine.

It was a fairly busy night so I didn’t have a LOT of time to spend at their table, but they were nice guys. They were polite and friendly to me, they didn’t hit on me (as most men were prone to do – sometimes even in front of their girlfriends, a story I’ll tell later if anyone wants me to), and they were racking up a hell of a tab that was going to make my managers happy, so I checked on them as often as I could.

Toward the end of their second bottle of wine, as they were finishing their entrees, I stopped at the table and asked if they wanted any more drinks or dessert or coffee. They were well and truly tipsy by now, giggling, leaning back in their chairs – but so, so careful not to touch each other when anyone was near the table.

They’re all on the fence about dessert, so being a good server, I offered to bring out the dessert menu so they could glance it over and make a decision, “Since you’re celebrating.”

“She’s right!” one of the men said, far too emphatically for a conversation on dessert. “It’s your anniversary! You should get dessert!”

It was like a movie. The whole table went absolutely silent. The clank of silverware at the next table sounded supernaturally loud. Dean Martin warbled “That’s Amore” in some distorted alternate universe where the rest of the restaurant went on acting like this one tipsy man hadn’t just shattered their carefully crafted cover story and blurted out in the middle of a tiny, South Carolina town, surrounded by conservatives and rednecks, that they were gay men celebrating a relationship milestone. 

And I didn’t know what I was yet, but I knew I wasn’t an asshole, and I knew these men were family, and I felt their panic like a monster breathing down all our necks. It’s impossible to emphasize how palpably terrified they were, and how justified their terror was, and how much I wanted them to be happy.

So I did the only thing I knew to do. I said, “Congratulations! How many years?”

The man who’d spoken up burst into tears. His partner stood up and wrapped me in the tightest, warmest hug I’ve ever had – and I’ve never liked being touched by strangers, but this was different, and I hugged him back.

“Thank you,” he whispered, halfway to crying himself. “Thank you so much.”

When he finally let go of me and sat back down, they finally got around to telling me they were, in fact, two couples on a double date, and both celebrating anniversaries. Fifteen years for one of them, I think, and a few years off for the other. It’s hard to remember. It was a jumble of tears and laughter and trembling relief for all of us. They got more relaxed. They started holding hands – under the table, out of sight of anyone but me, but happy.

They did get dessert, and I spent more time at their table, letting them tell me stories about how they met and how they started dating and their lives together, and feeling this odd sense of belonging, like I’d just discovered a missing branch of my family.

When they finally left, all four of them took turns standing up and hugging me, and all four of them reached into their wallets to tip me. I tried to wave them off but they insisted, and the first man who’d hugged me handed me forty dollars and said, “Please. You are an angel. Please take this.”

After they left I hid in the bathroom and cried because I couldn’t process all my thoughts and feelings.

Fast forward to three days ago, when my own partner and I showed up to a dinner reservation at a fancy-casual restaurant to celebrate our fifth anniversary. The whole time I was getting ready to leave, there was a worry in the back of my mind. The internet web form had asked if the reservation was celebrating anything in particular, and I’d selected “Anniversary.” I stood in the bathroom blow-drying my hair, wondering what I would do if we showed up, two women, and the host or the server took one look at us and the “Anniversary” designation on our reservation and refused to serve us. It’s not as ubiquitous anymore, but we’re still in the south, and these things still happen. Eight years of progressive leadership is over, and we’ve got another conservative despot in office who’s emboldening assholes everywhere.

It was on my mind the whole fifteen minutes it took to drive there. I didn’t mention it to my partner because I didn’t want to cast a shadow over the occasion. More than that, I didn’t want to jinx us, superstitious bastard that I am.

We walked into the restaurant. I told the hostess we had a reservation, gave her my last name.

She looked at her screen, then looked back at us. She smiled, broadly and genuinely, and said, “Happy anniversary! Your table is right this way.”

Our server greeted us, said, “I heard you were celebrating!”

“It’s our anniversary,” Kellie said, and our server gasped, beaming.

“That’s great! Congratulations! How many years?”

And I finally breathed a sigh of relief, and I thought about those men at that restaurant ten years ago. I hope they’re still safe and happy, and I hope we all get the satisfaction of helping the world keep blooming into something that’s not so unrelentingly terrible all the time.

omg the tag isn’t even off the bed yet! ;w;

This cat looks and sounds like a very very tiny mountain lion

CAN WE TALK ABOUT ITS LITTLE TONGUE STICKING OUT

I will never not reblog this happy baby.

Athena gets super chatty in the spring!

like a grandmother ready to gossip

who who

this looks like an owl-cat

Trans women living with HIV who do not take their antiretroviral medication (ART) said it was because they were worried about harmful interactions it could cause with their hormone therapy. A study of trans women in Los Angeles showed more than 50% of those living with HIV were concerned ART and feminizing hormone therapy (HT) could result in harmful drug interactions.

Not much is is clinically understood about the interaction between the two treatments.

The National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases (NIAID) and the National Institute of Mental Health (NIMH) carried out the study. They said the results were concerning. Firstly, because trans women are in a high-risk group for acquiring HIV. But also because starting ART soon after diagnosis prevents long-term health problems and transmitting HIV to a sexual partner.

The NIAID and NIMH presented the survey findings at the 9th International AIDS Society Conference on HIV Science. The conference is currently on in Paris.

CLICK THE HEADER LINK TO READ THE FULL ARTICLE.

The medical establishment really doesn’t know shit about trans bodies. Like, doctors can’t just say, “Don’t worry, it’s absolutely safe to take ARV’s while undergoing HRT.” WHICH WOULD SAVE LIVES.

Trans women think they have to make a choice between them.

And to anyone who looks at this and wonders why on earth anyone would chose hormones over life saving meds, it’s because hormones ARE life saving meds too.

Mae Martin: «No it’s made of vegetables.»

source

I’m really glad this anti-Confederate backlash has picked up steam, because we’ve allowed Confederate apologists to completely seize control of Civil War history. The fact that we even think of it in terms of “North vs. South” or “Union vs. Confederacy” is a sign of that influence. It should be “America’s Slaveowner Revolt.” We ask questions like “what if the South won the war”, as if that was remotely possible given their numbers and logistical failures. The Confederacy was barely a government. Within a year of forming there were riots from food shortages. The whole notion that this was between two equally formidable and legitimate sides is a fallacy of the so-called Lost Cause.

This isn’t griping from a history buff by the way, the Lost Cause has been one of America’s chief guardians of white supremacy for 150 years. The Big Lie about states rights affects politics to this day, and always in the context of letting states curtail civil rights that the federal government has guaranteed. Prior to the Civil War, when Northern states tried to push back against fugitive slave laws and make themselves sanctuaries for runaway slaves, the government cracked down hard on them. There was not a peep about states rights on that. We see it happening today. The states rights scolds have not said a word about Jeff Sessions threatening to destroy cities that refuse to hunt undocumented immigrants. Yet somehow the rights of states become sacrosanct when they want to keep gay couples from adopting kids. All of this is relevant to our current situation, and hopefully taking down some statues of (frankly overrated) treasonous generals is just the beginning.

Fucking iconic