Avatar

Hey. Why isn’t the moon landing a national holiday in the US. Isn’t that fucked up? Does anyone else think that’s absurd?

Avatar

It was a huge milestone of scientific and technological advancement. (Plus, at the time, politically significant). Humanity went to space! We set foot on a celestial body that was not earth for the first time in human history! That’s a big deal! I’ve never thought about it before but now that I have, it’s ridiculous to me that that’s not part of our everyday lives and the public consciousness anymore. Why don’t we have a public holiday and a family barbecue about it. Why have I never seen the original broadcast of the moon landing? It should be all over the news every year!

Avatar

It’s July 20th. That’s the day of the moon landing. Next year is going to be the 54th anniversary. I’m ordering astronaut shaped cookie cutters on Etsy and I’m going to have a goddamn potluck. You’re all invited.

Avatar

HAPPY MOON LANDING DAY!

important question

so, as we know

sam does not have any chest hair in s6e03 "third man." he is as smooth and oily as vin deisel's head in fast and furious. he is lubed up.

and then, in s12e02 "mamma mia" he is a rugged lumberjack bushed up, nair bottle in the toilet

WHICH RAISES THE IMPORTANT DILEMMA HERE: A) Sam Winchester (soulless) waxed his own body.

(implications: he went to a CVS and bought a self wax kit and some baby oil and let his freak flag fly, possibly with cas helping immediately after watching dean and lisa have dinner, cas airlifted him to this cvs?)

B) Sam Winchester (soulless) went to a salon and had someone else wax his body.

(implications: a 6'5" beast of a man walked up to Sexy Girls Get Waxed and was like yes one full body wax please i want it GONE, and they had to call in regional support from the surrounding Sexy Girls Get Waxed locations--spa day with all hands on deck)

C) Sam Winchester's soul has chest hair. (implications: Sam's soul is a ball of pure light, with chest hair. It is gone because Sam's soul is gone, and returns with this soul. FURTHERMORE, his chest hair is what makes sam, sam; furthermore, dean should've immediately spotted his bald, lubricated pectorals and gone CAP that is not my man)

please vote:

I would like to suggest a fourth possibility, on account of the 12x02 mamma mia scene technically occurring all in Sam's head, that in Sam's idealised perception of himself he has chest hair, but in actual fact, he does not. (This is somewhat adjacent to "Sam's chest hair is in his soul" perhaps)

Avatar

How does this line up with Buffy demon-vampires not having hair either - esp in consideration of Angel, the vampire with a soul, who doesn't seem to even have armpit hair?

here's my hot take about my generation and people younger than me (I'm 22 years old)

The reason current teenagers and people in their really early 20s are conservative on accident and have such shitty takes on the internet is because our generation was much more sheltered than previous generations and because we were raised to be ok with orwellian servailence and that is 100% the fault of our parents, Reagan Era kidnapping panics, and the rise of technology all coming together to prevent us from doing the sketchy shit that sends parents into panic mode but which is also completely fundemental to childhood development. If your parents had even a crumb of money to their name and even a shred of free time they started tracking your phone as soon as it was possible to. I did not experience this because my parents are actively trying to live like it's the 1990s and still have not gotten cell phones of their own, and did not let me have one until I was 18 years old and it was no longer their choice, but literally over half of my friends in middle and high school had their phones tracked by their parents at some point or other, and we would occasionally find this out, not because their parents told them, but when we were trying to do the aforementioned sketchy shit and their parent's car would pull up. And I would, like a reasonable person after finding this out, encourage my friends to just leave their phones at home, and their response would be "What if I get kidnapped" or "My parents are just trying to keep me safe"

This in my estimation has lead to a combination of kids being terminally online because they do have internet access and are better at deleting search history than their parents think they are, but don't have the freedom to go out and do shit without their parents' knowledge or consent, so they have the most privacy from the people who control their lives while they're on the internet, and kids not having the real world experiences they should have, not knowing how to connect with other people irl, not feeling comfortable leaving the house because of the horror story lies their parents told them to make them ok with the surveillance they were inflicting on their kids. Kids these days are growing up in the fucking panopticon when they should be out in the woods playing with knives or stealing cigarettes from their older sibling and going out to an empty parking lot to smoke them or whatever and that shit is sticking with them into adulthood. Things that were "tee hee we could get in trouble isn't this so fun and daring" in the 1990s and 2000s have become in the 2010s and 2020s things that are "If I do that without texting my parents some sort of lie to excuse where my location is my parent's car will pull up and I will get grounded for the next two weeks."

Like even when I was 19 I had a 16 year old friend who would volunteer their time at a food shelf and that's how we knew each other. We would talk about dungeons and dragons together, and the game store was 4 blocks from the food shelf. One day we left the food shelf earlier than they had told their parents they would and they got punished for that. We were literally just going to look at dungeons and dragons miniatures and dice, which was self evident if you could see where we started and how far we walked and where too. I have to assume that this isn't uncommon. It's wrong, but it's not uncommon.

Ok it has become apparent to me that people do not understand what I mean by conservative on accident.

Nobody my age is voting republican. Let's be clear on that. With the exception of a small minority of gamer gaters and people who were raised in actual cults most people my age are either commies or good liberals who votes straight blue down the ticket. This is because of the greta thunberg effect. We're all afraid of dying of thirst because there's no water anymore at the age of 35. Wealthy white children are no longer safe with the republican party which has become less of a political party and more of a death cult, and white children are less wealthy than they used to be (I specify white because POC by in large never voted for the party of the southern strategy for obvious reasons). We as a generation are so insanely blue that they're trying to raise the voting age to 25 about it.

This liberalism and party affiliation doesn't preclude them from being conservative on accident. What I mean by that is... Well

No kink at pride is a great example. The assumption that pride should exist at all makes them think that they're immune to conservative logic but they're still trying to enforce a dominant ideology onto a minority group. That person who made the tweet about how you shouldn't have sex in houses where there are children in the other room and if you can't avoid it you're a sex addict. That's a great example of like straight up puritanism coming out of the mouth of someone who proports themselves to be a leftist

If you ever see a discourse that feels like an obvious psyop as an adult and you can't understand why these supposed leftist youths are falling for it it's because that kid has never had sex in the woods and had to try to buy plan b under their parent's nose. My generation is dumb about sex. We're dumb about drugs. We're dumb about theft. We moralize literally everything. We're so dumb about stranger danger that we never learned how to community organize so while the vast vast majority of us are crushed by existential dread about debt and climate change but we never do anything about it because we just don't know how to organize because we're raised to see everyone else as a threat and we never went to or organized parties as teens because our parents would always know and stop us.

They managed to invent a generation that hates capitalism but fully buys into individualism and who is supportive of queer people and way less monogamous than previous generations but who still buys into the base assumptions of the nuclear family and thinks sex is evil. The levels of politics going on here are way weirder and stupider and more complicated than "young people vote republican and watch Fox news"

I've never seen anybody explain it so well

Tumblr is giving us a lot of different dashes but the thing is no one wants "for you" so what I propose instead is you give me the ability to make mini-dashes with specific subsets of people I follow. Let me follow 300 people but then sort them into category. Let me have one dash for all my aesthetic stuff, another for news, another for my weird feral friends. Am I the only one who wants this? Maybe. Give it to me anyway.

This would absolutely revolutionize the way I use Tumblr. I would probably spend like 20% more time on Tumblr if I could follow a bunch of people I like but who I do not want on my "these are my friends and idols" dash.

Tumblr is giving us a lot of different dashes but the thing is no one wants "for you" so what I propose instead is you give me the ability to make mini-dashes with specific subsets of people I follow. Let me follow 300 people but then sort them into category. Let me have one dash for all my aesthetic stuff, another for news, another for my weird feral friends. Am I the only one who wants this? Maybe. Give it to me anyway.

This would absolutely revolutionize the way I use Tumblr. I would probably spend like 20% more time on Tumblr if I could follow a bunch of people I like but who I do not want on my "these are my friends and idols" dash.

despite staff's recent changes, we're... winning??????

yo thats steven bradbury, winner of the short track 1000 metres at the 2002 winter olympics! yooo!! he’s the first man from THE ENTIRE SOUTHERN HEMISPHERE to win a gold medal in the winter olympics!!!

hold on, lemme tell you about steven bradbury because the man’s olympic career is WILD. not to be an annoying australian but the whole “purely out of the luck of everyone else crashing, i unexpectedly won!” thing is like 50% myth. lemme explain

so the man actually won gold in the world championships as part of the australian relay team in 1991, but when the team went to the winter olympics the next year, they dropped from third to fourth in the semi-finals and failed to make the finals. get this: the reason is, his teammate lost his footing and crashed. (bradbury was a reserve at the time)

so in the 1994 winter olympics, the australian relay team (with bradbury as an active racer) decided to take a safe and conservative approach. they prioritised staying safe on their feet and hoping other teams would crash. sure enough, the canadian team had a crash, and while they got back up again it lost them significant time and allowed australia to eke out a bronze--this bronze was also the first medal australia EVER won at the winter. in fact, australia could have gone for the silver, but richard nizielski (the same teammate who crashed at 1992) decided to cede the silver to the american he was racing against in order to avoid risking another crash. safe, steady, conservative.

bradbury didn’t just compete in the relay team at the ‘94 winter, though. he was also in the 500m and 1000m short track, and he was INCREDIBLE, but also had insanely bad luck. for the 500m, he came second in his heat and then WON his qtrfinal. he ultimately came fourth in the semi, losing his shot at the finals, after he was suffered a crash from being knocked down by another competitor, and ended up limping over the finish line. for the 1000m, he was ILLEGALLY SHOVED OVER by another competitor, dropped his position, and was elimated.

but his worst luck came at the montreal world cup of the same year when, during a collision, another competitors blade sliced through his thigh. he was in the middle of competing, his heart rate was high because of the adrenaline, blood was pumping like crazy through his body--right out his wound as a result. he lost four litres of blood. all four quadriceps had been sliced through by the blade. he almost died. he later recounted that he was fighting to stay conscious because he thought if he lost consciousness  he would definitely die (he probably would have). he ended up with ONE HUNDRED AND ELEVEN STITCHES in his leg, which he could not move afterward for three months. he ended up needing 18 months to get his leg back to full strength.

not only did the man almost DIE short tracking, he almost got a death sentence on his career at the time. his leg was almost disabled, and even though it healed, he was out of training for over a year because of the injury.

but he didnt die, and his career didnt end. bradbury kept training, and remained on the australian team. the man almost died and he still went, yeah nah, i’ve got a few good years left in me.

so bradbury comes back in the ‘98 winter olympics, both on the relay team and in the 500m and 1000m. the relay team unfortunately fails to qualify. devo. for the solos, bradbury was actually considered a real contender, he was still top of his game, but in the end he didn’t qualify for the quarterfinals. the reason for this was that his time had dropped due to collissions with other competitors. so he went home with nothing but a relay bronze. but bradbury was determined to see a short track win.

too bad fate fucking hates him apparently.

now, if you think almost dying because a skate blade sliced through your thigh and you almost bled out was bad, bradbury’s career was really threatened in 2000. during an exercise one of the other skaters fell in front of him. bradbury tried to jump, instead not only did he clip the other skater, but it caused him to lose his balance and he stacked it straight into the barrier, fracturing his vertebrae.

not only did the man spend months in a halo brace, not only did the man need to get pins skull and plates and screws bolted to his back and chest, but he was told explicitly by doctors he would never, ever be able to get back onto the ice again. that was it. he survives almost dying in the 94 world cup only to have his world crash and burn in a training exercise six years later.

anyway, fuck that, bradbury got back onto the ice. clearly. because goddamnit, he wanted that winter gold on a solo win.

look, not only did the man have a near death experience and metal bolted to his bones, but he was also aging up past the prime of an olympic athlete. he was, what some may say, not in his prime. it was a longshot. he admitted this. but he also wanted that fucking medal, and i guess everyone really liked him or felt incredibly bad for all the bad luck he’d had, so come the 2002 winter olympics, he’s on the team.

bradbury won his 1000m heat.

too bad in the qtrfinals he was racing against the gold medal pick of the host nation (ohno), and also the defending world champion (gagnon). only top two finishers could proceed to the semis.

bradbury came third. that was it. he was out. his olympic career was ov-

BUT WAIT, WHAT’S THAT! ON THE HORIZON! IS IT... A DISQUALIFICATION??? YES FOLKS, GAGNON WAS DISQUALIFIED FOR OBSTRUCTING ANOTHER RACER!! BRADBURY WAS IN!

he was in, but he still had the semis and the finals to get through. bradbury had, it was fair to say, an indomitable will, but his body was not in the same shape as his competitors. it had been through some shit. he knew he was slower than his rivals. so he took the same strategy as the australian relay team did all the way back in ‘94: conservative, steady, safe.

so here’s the thing. bradbury had a whole career, and body, full of proof that falls happen in short track. may as well call it short stack. it was a question of when, not if. people fall down, people collide, people trip, and medal chances are missed due to lost time. isn’t that what happened to him over and over again? so this is where i say that the whole “oh golly gosh who’da thunk everyone would fall down and i would just win!” thing is 50% a myth.

because that was his whole strategy.

you can’t be 100% certain the favourites are gonna fall, so of course there’s an element of chance, which is why i say only 50%, but bradbury’s plan for the semis and the finals was always to cruise along behind the other competitors, concentrate on skating safe and staying on his feet, avoiding collissions and trips, and just hoping (expecting) the other competitors to eat ice. he just wasn’t faster than his competitors, he was older, he had injuries, and he had to do (if things went well) four races in one night. it was a good strategy.

during the semis, bradbury’s “cruise behind the other races” strategy put him firmly in last place for most of the race. but then the other competitors all crashed, including a defending champion. bradbury cruised right into first place and went on to the finals. which is not the events of the picture above.

yep, that’s right. come the finals, bradbury repeats the exact same strategy. crusing behind the four other competitors, he kept a firm hold of last place and just concentrated on safety and steadiness. and then it happened. it wasn’t just a crash. it was the crash. a four-skater pile up. li (china) took the fall on the last turn of the race, just short of the finish, and triggered a chain crash that took all three other favourites down. bradbury was trailing 15m behind, putting him well clear of the collission.

bradbury hoped to get a bronze. he skated away with the first gold ever taken by an australian, by any man in the southern hemisphere, at the winter olympics.

he had over a decade of crashes and bashes. he almost died, twice. he almost had his career permanently destroyed, twice. he almost grabbed medals countless times, only to lose them to trips and shoves. he was the second oldest competitor, and the oldest of the finals. he was slower than everyone else. he was past his best. but let’s allow bradbury to say it best himself:

"Obviously I wasn't the fastest skater. I don't think I'll take the medal as the minute-and-a-half of the race I actually won. I'll take it as the last decade of the hard slog I put in."

and what a goddamn slog. i want to say, firmly and proudly as an australian, the man didn’t win the gold at the 2002 winter olympics because he got lucky when seven competitors all tripped and fell. he won the gold at the 2002 winter olympics because he survived a ten year olympic career despite all the odds, never gave up despite the long shot, and used what he knew.

if there is a lesson in this as it relates to the original picture, it’s that while other social media platforms like twitter and reddit are jostling and shoving each other in competition to take first, tumblr has been slowly and steadily trailing behind, just focusing on keeping itself afloat, because it knows the simple truth that taking a fall is a matter of when, not if. and now everyone else is caught in a pile up and all it needs to do is keep cruising.

also, raise a glass to steven bradbury. man earned his medal.

Christopher Eccleston would be so good as Sam Vimes it’s not even funny.

Avatar

Consider also: he plays opposite Siddig El Fadil as Vetinari

Avatar

I’m not even in Discworld fandom but I need this like air omfg.

being a dom is only cool if people like you. otherwise it's super embarrassing. if you're a sub you can be like "ahhh i wanna get fucked superrr hard >w<" and it's kind of endearing. if you're a dom and you say "i want to FUCK someone.. who will be mommys little KITTY today .." and no one actually wants to have sex with you, you may as well kill yourself. because there's no coming back from that

Avatar
Avatar

callback to the time I wrote literal pages of lore and worldbuilding, including a universe with a creation story, afterlife metaphysics, and a timeline featuring the rapture, a divine astral plane turf war, and the introduction of gods and magic to the modern mortal world

for a kink scene where I roleplayed as a sexy demon lady

I workshopped my character's name, voice and personality and wrote an entire universe to hold her. for a scene that lasted about an hour. if that's not DMing but for sex I don't know what is

Avatar

your honor ive been murdered

Good news: At that level of prep I don't think it's improv anymore.

Bad news: turned on by amateur theater

Avatar

... were dice involved? Can dice be involved?

is this orange or yellow.

its yellow you are all wrong i have decided just now

Image

hey op, what does this say?

nice try but i’m not colorblind it says 71

Avatar

Am I tripping?

Is that not 71?

Avatar

You’re slightly colorblind, that is 74 and the color of the car is orange.

world heritage post

It’s orange

it’s literally 71

Bestie it’s 74

Y’all it clearly fucking says 21

where are you getting that from?

Babes it’s 81 what r yall seeing

Avatar

its 74 bestie you might be colorblind

That 81 person can see shrimp colors

I took exactly the same image, increased the saturation, and shifted it to a part of the spectrum most people can see better.

For all your no-YOU-have-the-weird-color-vision argument-solving needs.

Also, the car is orange.

Obsessed with the DC tourist asking for clubs with a “no ugly people allowed” policy that plays house

Is this person NYC or LA? Place your bets

#if sir Walter elliot used reddit (@spookyohan)

oh my god this is me. i was addicted to designer amphetamines and completely delusional at the time of writing this. i had lost forty pounds and thought i was hot shit. i thought i was the reincarnation of Kurt Vonnegut. this was serious, and my friends laughed when they saw this go viral on twitter. it made me realize i had issues and im sober now. im also shocked i managed to stay employed at that time. To answer your question: im from LA but I grew up all around. I was living between Baltimore and NYC at the time. My mom is a beautiful Italian woman (Milan by way of Bolzano) and my dad is an insufferable Mexican from Montreal.

fwiw, my Reddit was suspended for this, im doing a lot better now, life is good, and im really happy :)

Thematically speaking, the most important thing Terry Pratchett taught me was the concept of militant decency. The idea that you can look at the world and its flaws and its injustices and its cruelties and get deeply, intensely angry, and that you can turn that into energy for doing the right thing and making the world a better place. He taught me that the anger itself is not the part I should be fighting. Nobody in my life ever said that before.

More lessons from Pratchett:

  • Good isn’t always nice (i.e. sometimes appearing nice is a luxury you can’t afford if you want to do the right thing) (this refers to setting bones and fighting evil, not to being pointlessly horrible)
  • Evil can appear very nice indeed (watch out for people who smile while they deny your basic humanity)
  • People can suck, be rude and actively work against their own best interests, but personkind is still something we must protect so they can keep being wonderful in between all the stupid
  • “Person” is always a broader category than you think
  • It’s not about who’s best for the job - it’s about who shows up and does it
  • Be very aware of how you treat those in your power; you will be judged on it
  • Respect women, which explicitly includes trans women (with or without beards and steel-toed boots)
  • Kings: no. Hard-boiled eggs: yes
Avatar
  • No one - not military leaders, not kings, not patricians, not gods - no one is beyond consequences or above justice
  • Addendum: those who think they are are often the worst of the worst
  • Kids understand more than we think and sometimes the best way to protect innocence is to arm them with knowledge, confidence, and skill
  • How you’re born is intrinsically less important and less relevant than who you make yourself into
  • I can’t put it into a pithy sentence but that bit where Magrat is like “let’s toss [Lily] off the tower” and Nanny answers with “go ahead then” and Magrat hesitates bc it’s easier to do something like that together than to make the decision alone… impactful.
  • Evil begins when we treat people like things.

If you remove everything “problematic” toward women and minorities from sincere historical fiction I am biting you biting you biting you.

Sometimes “he would not fucking say that” is when the guy living in 1852 is a third wave feminist.

The Music Man revival making Shipoopi a song about respecting women is killing me

Okay this is significantly more funny.

it's literally insane to me that if you steal enough televisions you can go to prison forever. like we effectively go "okay your life is less important to me than a panasonic TV". we literally value property more than human life

ok so this post is insane right? like the concept of imprisoning someone forever because they've stolen TVs is really crazy right. ok now replace "televisions" and "panasonic TV" with FOOD. you can go to prison forever if you steal food to survive. if you literally are like "i'm going to starve to death if i don't steal this food" and then get caught enough you can go to prison forever.

Prisons are inherently and ideologically unethical. Prisons exist to house society's undesirables and create a slave labor force that is legal. The "violent offender that needs to be housed away from society" is a myth used to proliferate this concept. Criminality is a symptom of social inequity and can be solved with better social and economic infrastructure. Abolish prisons.

does anyone else hate that work takes up like 90% of your life and you literally are always working and have to form plans and important things and even seeing friends or eating meals around work. it's always just work. im spending my life just being At Work. i don't have time for hobbies or for seeing friends bc it’s always Work. like two days off a week isn't even enough because my days off aren't consecutive so i just spend those days exhausted or doing errands or house chores. there is not enough Time. all the time goes to Work. WHY IS LIFE THIS WAY. humans were not meant for this

Avatar

Pete Buttigieg is just a faggot.

It's very important to me that younger queers understand this: to the people who you're trying to be more respectable for when you say things like neopronouns set the trans movement back or you're why the cishets don't accept us or including [aces/bi people with the 'wrong kind' of partners/non-binary people/kinksters/non-passing trans ppl/furries/polyam people] just hurts us, can't you wait until we get all our rights before we talk about some of yours? -- to those people? Pete Buttigieg is just a fag.

On Sunday at Pride Northwest, some kids -- late teens, early 20s -- asked what our button I survived Reagan for this? meant. All of the queer adults at the tables making up our ad hoc counter looked at each other and sighed a little. Emet and another adult started to explain the way that the Reagan Administration handled -- or didn't handle -- the beginning of the AIDS crisis. How many people died. How much we were ignored. The Ashes Action. The Time Magazine article which explicitly blamed bisexual men for passing the pandemic to the cishet community, playing on all the worst stereotypical bullshit. The way that even when the CDC started paying attention, they were so focused on gay men that they ignored AIDS in the lesbian community, leading to the "women don't get AIDS, they just die from it" poster. And so on.

I finished counting out change and passed the last Bear Pride raised fist pin over to a bear a little older than me, then turned my head and interjected, "they didn't care until it started infecting more than just the fags." I turned my head back and handed him his change. He laughed bitterly and said, "remember when they called it 'gay cancer?'"

That what I need you to understand. The people for whom you are folding yourself into smaller and smaller boxes will never see you as anything but a freak. A queer. A dyke. A tranny. A fag.

Never.

These are people who will stand by and let you wither away and die alone, gasping for breath in a cinderblock room, and not even claim your ashes, and they will say you deserve it, because of your lifestyle. If they speak of you at all it will be by the wrong name, with the pictures you hate the most. They will curse at your lover, throw him out of the home you shared, and steal the gift you gave last Christmas to throw it in the trash just so he can't have it and they'll say Jesus loves you! while they do it. They'll feel good and righteous and blessed and holy and pure for doing it.

And for them, you spit in the eye of your sister. For them, you disavow your sibling. For their sake, you trim away bits of your heart and lace yourself up tight. Never too loud. Never too queer. Never inconvenient or embarrassing, never asking for too much.

Pete Buttigieg is what happens when your Boomer dad turns out gay. Middle America. Parents still married. Suburban-sprouted. Valedictorian. Harvard-educated. Rhodes Scholarship. Military service. More power to him: I hope he and Chasten are very happy together. Genuinely, I do.

You couldn't create a more respectable gay if you grew one in a lab run by concerned voter focus groups.

But Pete Buttigieg? Is just a fag.

That's the part you don't seem to get: when they abandoned us, they abandoned all of us. Rock Hudson was a beloved movie star and even personally friendly with that horrid pair of ambitious jackals. Nancy Reagan refused to help him get into the only place in the world that could treat him at the time, and he died.

Pete Buttigieg is just a fag, and so am I. Unless I'm a dyke, which seems to depend on who's yelling what from which window and what day it is.

Yes, there will be people who genuinely love and accept you. Those people are worth all the frustration of the rest, thankfully, and they're the ones who love you in a pup mask or a leather harness and a neon jock like the ones sold by the men up the row from us last weekend. They're the ones who laugh out loud when you tell them you hid the word "dyke" in your company name, the ones who love you in all your messiness and uncertainty and the way you don't fit into neat boxes all scrubbed up and clean.

Most cishets, though... well, they don't actively mean you specifically any harm, at least not when they have to look at you. Not when you're right there in front of them. Maybe they'll be okay with you, personally, especially if you're the kind of gay who makes a good rhetorical device, and as long as you remain a good rhetorical device.

They need people to know that they don't have a problem with the gays, after all, and there you are, being all convenient. You make a nice token, and as long as you do, well. You're useful.

But they call you by your deadname when you're not around, and they put the wrong pronouns in your medical record even though they met you years after you came out, and they won't put themselves out to save you. Not one little bit.

I didn't want to be here again. The year I graduated from high school was the worst year of the AIDS crisis. The world into which I became an adult was a world in which an advisor and friend to Reagan, William F. Buckley, openly advocated for forcibly tattooing the HIV status of HIV+ gay men on their buttocks (and IV drug users on their forearms), and in which my father not only told me that when I was 14 or so, but when was told me that he'd advocated for that tattoo being "over their assholes."

(Buckley wrote that in '86, but he doubled down on it in 2005.

Fucker.)

But yeah. I didn't want to be here again. I wanted my daughter to inherit a better world. I wanted Obergefell and Lawrence v. Texas and Hope & Change to really mean something. I work for it, today and all days. I haven't given up.

I need you to know that, too. This isn't a white flag. I'm not surrendering. This isn't over. To misquote Henry Rollins, this is what Marsha and Sylvia and Stormé and Leslie and Brenda and Auntie Sugar trained us for. This is punk rock time.

But I need you to understand that if Pete Buttigieg is just a fag, if that human embodiment of a Wonder Bread, mayo and Oscar Meyer bologna sandwich is not respectable enough for them -- and he's not -- then the rest of us have absolutely no hope of measuring up. Not even if we trim away every colorful, beautiful piece of our community, not even if the Sisters Of Perpetual Indulgence vanish into the ether, not even if we sacrifice the five elements of vogue on the altar of white supremacist cishet middle-class conformity: we can't trim ourselves down to something they'll accept.

The only other option is radical acceptance of our queer selves. The only other option is solidarity. The only other option is for fats and femme queens and drags and kinksters and queers and zine writers and sex workers and furries and addicts and kids and the ones who can look us in the eye and see all of us to say we're here, we're queer, get used to it just the way we did 30 years ago. It's revolutionary, complete and total acceptance of our entire community, not just the ones the cishets can pretend to be comfortable with as long as we don't challenge them too much, or it's conceding the shoreline inch by inch to the rising waters of fascism until we've got nowhere left to stand and some of us start drowning.

That's it. Either it's all of us or it's none of us, because if we leave the answer up to the Reagans of the world and all the people who enabled him in the name of lower taxes and Democrats who wring their hands, weeping oh I don't agree with it but we'll lose the election if we fight it right now, the answer is none of us.

The brunch gays can come, too, I guess.