*alt

  • Sirius: Hey Prongs?
  • James: Yeah Pads?
  • Sirius: Why is James spelt with an s?
  • James: What?
  • Sirius: Your name. Why is it plural? More than one Jame... And in that case how many James?
  • James: I guess I've never really thought about it...
  • Remus: Oh my Godric will you two just go to sleep!!!
You are heaven condensed into one person.
—  E. Grin, seven word fairytale
It’s painfully ironic the way we build walls
in order to protect ourselves,
yet hope someone will come along
with a love like X-ray vision
that renders them useless,
and makes us want to just
break them right back down.
—  Maxwell Diawuoh, Once A Day (344/366)
An Open Letter to Tomi Lahren, Commentator on TheBlaze, After Her Interview On The Daily Show

Dear Tomi:

First off I gotta know who does your hair,
Like, your ends are looking a little crispy,
get some conditioner on there and leave it in for like fifteen minutes,
but that platinum blonde is an amazing color, seriously,
so I can get your stylist’s number?

Second,
I wanted to say I felt sorry for you when the audience booed you,
when you stepped into the lion’s den and they growled and roared
at such a simple catechism:
“I don’t see color.”
“No, I’m not mainstream.”
“Did you know that a black man is 18.5 times more likely to shoot a police officer than a police officer is to shoot a black man?”
I mean you’re repellent, and also wrong, and also lying,
so I wanted to say I felt sorry for you when the audience booed you,
when you refused to be quiet,
well-behaved women seldom make history and all,
but girl.
Oh, you didn’t stop there.
Oh, you had to say
“I don’t protest my country. I’m not a victim.”
Oh, you had to say
“I’m a Millennial, I don’t like labels”
–that doesn’t have anything to do with the rest of this it’s just obnoxious–
Oh, you had to say
Black Lives Matter is the new KKK
Oh, you had to say
“Hillary could use some touching, right? Bill’s a little busy~”
Oh you had to say
Oh you had to say
Oh say
Oh say
Oh say can you see by the dawn’s early light
that I may not be a football star but I am kneeling, too,
and also flipping you off, because

fuck you, lady.

When girls like me in combat boots and bookworm glasses say “I’m not like the Other Girls,”
normally I hate that –
I have known too many women to write them all off as Other like that –
but you motherfucking Other Girl
you make me forget what sisterhood tastes like.
You re-shared, re-tweeted right-wing re-boot,
all civil and spice and isn’t this nice when you talk to an actual black man,
like your voice isn’t a shotgun when it’s just you and the camera and your Final Thoughts.
You Queen Bee,
you are so smart,
smart as paint and twice as suffocating,
I can feel my throat closing up when you speak because for a second
I believe you,
because for a second I am thirteen and want you to think I’m cool.
Because for a second
I can see the future and it really does look like you stamping on a human face,
“shut up and say thank you” in one hand and “I’m just criticizing” in the other,
all ablaze in righteousness and haloed in red,
patron saint of hypocrisy and the alt
ernative media
because apparently you don’t want to be associated with the term “alt-right”
even if the blind taste test can’t tell the difference between
your criticism and their Kampf.

So I won’t Godwin’s Law this poem and call you a Nazi.

I will call you Vichy instead,
I’ll call you Riefenstahl.
I’ll call you Coco Chanel and collaborationist,
you beauty, you brains, you profiteer.
And I’ll call your stylist.
I hear your brand of blonde is the new black–
no, sorry, that’s the new KKK–
no, sorry, that’s the new media–
no, sorry, I forgot what we were talking about–
I just want to know what bleach made you
so bright
and if the solution
to our protests
is as final
as your Thoughts.

At first, I was dying to know you. And then I was dying to go out with you. And then I was dying to get intimate with you. And then I was dying to start a family with you. And now I am dying by your side realizing that even though I forgot to live—I remembered to love.
—  Juansen Dizon // True Love
The thought of you
tickles my brain,
this is madness;
if not, love.
—  s.a., queer feelings

As we’re reading/writing thinkpieces and op/eds about the alt-nazis and their boycott of Star Wars, I really want to remind people concerned with racism not to forget about all the self-proclaimed progressive/liberal “totally not racist” white women who have embraced our new white female leads while ignoring/erasing the men of color in leading roles – especially Finn. (Not to mention how many of those same women have flooded fandom spaces with love and woobification of the nazi allegory characters, generally at the expense of those men of color – especially Finn.)

You give me reason. So much reason to be alive today. You are my thing with feathers. You are the angel of my existence. You are all my reasons.
—  Juansen Dizon // Currently Listening To: Flightless Bird (Twilight Soundtrack)