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Troublemaking

@soratayuya / soratayuya.tumblr.com

The words came out wrong Master Post for Tags Here
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can’t find the post that’s already circulating about this now but there really is no medical privacy in star trek whatsoever. imagine if a stranger walked into your doctor’s appointment and asked for your medical details, your doctor obliged without question, and then the stranger demanded you be killed. bonkers

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the rest of this scene is hilarious btw

Futuristic insurance provider

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Other people have already pointed this out in the notes, but this show was released from 1987-1991 and HIPAA, the federal law that establishes doctor/patient confidentiality, only passed in 1996.

Doctor patient confidentiality did not exist when this show aired.

So many of the rights you think of as sacred and fundamental and universal and permanent are younger than the average millennial. So many of your legal protections are tacked together with the legal system’s equivalent of tissue paper and elmer’s glue.

This is about a right-wing account that was scanned for cp getting reinstated

ELON MUSK CHILD EXPLOITATION ENJOYER

Also it's a blatant lie, the post had something like 38 million views before getting deleted

Elon is probably into cp

Don't ask Elon why his flight records show various trips to a certain island

Child porn island?

Just realized that the reason I love making friends on tumblr is because it’s exactly how you make friends on the playground as a six year old. No, I don’t know their name but they love mermaids too and built this awesome sand castle. No, I don’t know their age but their imaginary cheetah is friends with mine. You like this show? You like this character?? You can sing the theme song really loud??? Here is a flower crown. Here is a juice box. You can share my time and I might never see you again but part of you stays in my soul forever. In my mind we’re still on the swing set and the sky is blue and nothing will ever be wrong again.

This is god-tier sociological analysis.

i was gonna say it Does have a tail thats what the cord is thats why its called a mouse!!!! and then i remembered most mouses are cordless now and got fucked up bc IT IS A HAMSTER and now immfucked up bc like. technology has advanced so must thay mice have changed species

it matters to me that you all know i was wizard high when i wrote that

I misread this post and thought it was about OP changing their mouse pointer into a ham layer like we did back in the early 2000s. I have to go look up some technology stuff real quick thanks bye

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And Keanu says something really interesting to me on the first John Wick. He comes to me and he goes, “Look, just so you know, little bit of advice, when you edit, once a week, you should see the edit on the big screen.” And I’m like, OK, we’ll try. Later, alone with him, I’m going, “Well, why?” He’s like, “I’m a big-screen actor.” And I had no fucking idea what that meant. I thought it meant a movie star. And he’s like, “No, no, no, no.”
And he started talking to me about non-verbal acting, like gestures, motions. And he’s like, “Look, when you see me on a little monitor and I give this little look, it’s one thing. But when you see it on a 40-foot screen, that look’s going to say a lot. That’s what I want to play this guy as. So just please be aware of it, so when we punch in on the closeups, it’s going to mean something.” And it kind of really clicked for me right there.
I’ve always been fascinated by non-verbal gesture, body language. Keanu would go through and strip his dialogue down. It was like, “No, no, nope. I’m just going to cuddle the puppy.” In the first John Wick, he doesn’t talk for 32 minutes. Try to sell that one to a studio: You have Keanu Reeves and you’re not going to let him talk.
Source: Slate

The biggest male privilege I have so far encountered is going to the doctor.

I lived as a woman for 35 years. I have a lifetime of chronic health issues including chronic pain, chronic fatigue, respiratory issues, and neurodivergence (autistic + ADHD). There's so much wrong with my body and brain that I have never dared to make a single list of it to show a doctor because I was so sure I would be sent directly to a psychologist specializing in hypochondria (sorry, "anxiety") without getting a single test done.

And I was right. Anytime I ever tried to bring up even one of my health issues, every doctor's initial reaction was, at best, to look at me with doubt. A raised eyebrow. A seemingly casual, offhand question about whether I'd ever been diagnosed with an anxiety disorder. Even female doctors!

We're not talking about super rare symptoms here either. Joint pain. Chronic joint pain since I was about 19 years old. Back pain. Trouble breathing. Allergy-like reactions to things that aren't typically allergens. Headaches. Brain fog. Severe insomnia. Sensitivity to cold and heat.

There's a lot more going on than that, but those were the things I thought I might be able to at least get some acknowledgement of. Some tests, at least. But 90% of the time I was told to go home, rest, take a few days off work, take some benzos (which they'd throw at me without hesitation), just chill out a bit, you'll be fine. Anxiety can cause all kinds of odd symptoms.

Anyone female-presenting reading this is surely nodding along. Yup, that's just how doctors are.

Except...

I started transitioning about 2.5 years ago. At this point I have a beard, male pattern baldness, a deep voice, and a flat chest. All of my doctors know that I'm trans because I still haven't managed to get all the paperwork legally changed, but when they look at me, even if they knew me as female at first, they see a man.

I knew men didn't face the same hurdles when it came to health care, but I had no idea it was this different.

The last time I saw my GP (a man, fairly young, 30s or so), I mentioned chronic pain, and he was concerned to see that it wasn't represented in my file. Previous doctors hadn't even bothered to write it down. He pushed his next appointment back to spend nearly an hour with me going through my entire body while I described every type of chronic pain I had, how long I'd had it, what causes I was aware of. He asked me if I had any theories as to why I had so much pain and looked at me with concerned expectation, hoping I might have a starting point for him. He immediately drew up referrals for pain specialists (a profession I didn't even know existed till that moment) and physical therapy. He said depending on how it goes, he may need to help me get on some degree of disability assistance from the government, since I obviously shouldn't be trying to work full-time under these circumstances.

Never a glimmer of doubt in his eye. Never did he so much as mention the word "anxiety".

There's also my psychiatrist. He diagnosed me with ADHD last year (meeting me as a man from the start, though he knew I was trans). He never doubted my symptoms or medical history. He also took my pain and sleep issues seriously from the start and has been trying to help me find medications to help both those things while I go through the long process of seeing other specialists. I've had bad reactions to almost everything I've tried, because that's what always happens. Sometimes it seems like I'm allergic to the whole world.

And then, just a few days ago, the most shocking thing happened. I'd been wondering for a while if I might have a mast cell condition like MCAS, having read a lot of informative posts by @thebibliosphere which sounded a little too relatable. Another friend suggested it might explain some of my problems, so I decided to mention it to the psychiatrist, fully prepared to laugh it off. Yeah, a friend thinks I might have it, I'm not convinced though.

His response? That's an interesting theory. It would be difficult to test for especially in this country, but that's no reason not to try treatments and see if they are helpful. He adjusted his medication recommendations immediately based on this suggestion. He's researching an elimination diet to diagnose my food sensitivities.

I casually mentioned MCAS, something routinely dismissed by doctors with female patients, and he instantly took the possibility seriously.

That's it. I've reached peak male privilege. There is nothing else that could happen that could be more insane than that.

I literally keep having to hold myself back from apologizing or hedging or trying to frame my theories as someone else's idea lest I be dismissed as a hypochondriac. I told the doctor I'd like to make a big list of every health issue I have, diagnosed and undiagnosed, every theory I've been given or come up with myself, and every medication I've tried and my reactions to it - something I've never done because I knew for a fact no doctor would take me seriously if they saw such a list all at once. He said it was a good idea and could be very helpful.

Female-presenting people are of course not going to be surprised by any of this, but in my experience, male-presenting people often are. When you've never had a doctor scoff at you, laugh at you, literally say "I won't consider that possibility until you've been cleared by a psychologist" for the most mundane of health problems, it might be hard to imagine just how demoralizing it is. How scary it becomes going to the doctor. How you can internalize the idea that you're just imagining things, making a big deal out of nothing.

Now that I'm visibly a man, all of my doctors are suddenly very concerned about the fact that I've been simply living like this for nearly four decades with no help. And I know how many women will have to go their whole lives never getting that help simply because of sexism in the medical field.

If you know a doctor, show them this story. Even if they are female. Even if they consider themselves leftists and feminists and allies. Ask them to really, truly, deep down, consider whether they really treat their male and female patients the same. Suggest that the next time they hear a valid complaint from a male patient, imagine they were a woman and consider whether you'd take it seriously. The next time they hear a frivolous-sounding complaint from a female patient, imagine they were a man and consider whether it would sound more credible.

It's hard to unlearn these biases. But it simply has to be done. I've lived both sides of this issue. And every doctor insists they treat their male and female patients the same. But some of the doctors astonished that I didn't get better care in the past are the same doctors who dismissed me before.

I'm glad I'm getting the care I need, even if it is several decades late. And I'm angry that it took so long. And I'm furious that most female-presenting people will never have this chance.

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george forgets which neopronouns his partner uses. elaine starts dating a guy with her birthname, and discovers his birthname is elaine. jerry takes newman’s comment that he isnt “really” butch because he uses bath salts to heart. an ominous horoscope drives kramer to audition for rupaul’s drag race.

JERRY: Well, maybe it’s any pronouns.

GEORGE: No, Jerry, it’s not any pronouns! I’d know if it was any pronouns! If they used any pronouns, I would’ve defaulted to “she” by now!

JERRY: Yeah, you would have, wouldn’t you.

(LAUGH TRACK)

GEORGE: Look, Jerry, please, you gotta help me. They’re gonna be here in less than ten minutes, just ask them while I’m in the room. Ten seconds, over and done with. Please.

JERRY: You want me to ask for pronouns?

GEORGE: (FALLS UPON KNEES) JERRY I’M BEGGIN’ YOU!

JERRY: …Tell me I look butch.

GEORGE: WHAT?

JERRY: You heard me. Tell me. I look. Butch.

GEORGE: Jerry, I - I can’t -

JERRY: See, you hesitated! What is it? Is it the shirt, the hair -

GEORGE: Jerry please, we don’t have time for this! JERRY: Ten seconds to ask your new partner what their pronouns are, and you can’t spare any time to tell me what about me passes as femme? GEORGE: …The deodorant is a bit much, I mean, peach-scented deodorant -

JERRY: I KNEW it!

(KRAMER enters through the front door, dressed in nothing but a bra, flesh-colored leggings and a long, blonde wig) KRAMER: Do either of you have any spirit gum? It’s kind of an emergency!

KRAMER: You know I hate to intrude, but uh, what kind of pronouns would you mind me using for you?

(Both JERRY and GEORGE turn discreetly to listen) BRICK: Oh, thank you for asking! Any pronouns are fine!

GEORGE: AAAGH!

(GEORGE stumbles to the floor.)

ELAINE: So they broke up with you, huh?

GEORGE: She didn’t buy my story about fleeing a sudden fire.

JERRY: You’ve got to stop defaulting to she/her.

GEORGE: ANY PRONOUNS, JERRY! She/her is a perfectly valid pronoun! I could’ve had a she/her, a they/them, a xe/xir, Jerry I could’ve had it all.

ELAINE: Still, she/her for Brick? I wouldn’t have guessed, I mean, they were more butch than Jerry.

(JERRY drops his spoon in his diner soup. George and Elaine are unphased. Laugh track.)

GEORGE: So, your relationship is going SO great, huh? With Mr. Deadname?

ELAINE: Yeah, well, I’m probably gonna cut things off. I mean, I got rid of that name for a reason, yknow? Too much baggage.

JERRY: You’re jealous he was born an Elaine?

ELAINE: Look, I don’t see what’s so bad about being an Elaine! I mean, look at me, am I not the picture perfect Elaine? I was born to be Elaine. My parents didn’t know what they were THINKING not naming me Elaine, but does he care? No. Just tosses Elaine aside like an old sandwich.

GEORGE: An old sandwich?

ELAINE: Yeah, you’d toss that out, right?

GEORGE: How old?

ELAINE: I don’t know, a week?

(GEORGE sits in quiet thought)

JERRY: Maybe he’s thinking the same thing about you.

ELAINE: What do you mean?

JERRY: Well, maybe he’s been wracking his brain trying to figure out why you’d throw away a name as perfect as…

(ELAINE glares at JERRY)

JERRY: …You know.

ELAINE: No. There’s no way. With a name like that he’s lucky anyone is even interested.

GEORGE: They have a point-

ELAINE: Default back to she/her.

GEORGE: She has a point, Jerry. Not only can I not imagine Elaine’s parents picking a name like that, I can’t imagine being an adult and choosing that name. It wouldn’t be anybody’s deadname, it shouldn’t be anybody’s name. It’s just one prolonged mistake.

ELAINE: Better name than George.

(LAUGH TRACK)

JERRY: Maybe it’s the opposite.

ELAINE: What do you mean?

JERRY: Well, maybe he picked you up because he misses having Elaine in his life.

GEORGE: You don’t think he’s…?

JERRY: No, just likes the name. Maybe he realized he’s got some attachment to the name, but he doesn’t want it for himself.

ELAINE: …I could live with that.

(LAUGH TRACK, KRAMER enters in a torn green sequin dress, wig cap, smeared make up, and holding a blonde beehive wig under one arm.)

JERRY: How long did you last?

KRAMER: I didn’t even make it on. I got into a fight with Katya Zamolodchikova.

GEORGE: Over what?

(KRAMER makes some sort of KRAMER sounds and wild hand gestures, the others nod.)

(ELAINE’S BOYFRIEND enters)

JERRY: Oh, hey Blaine.

theyer old enough that they used to connect 

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They're older than Florida. The Floridian peninsula is the solidified runoff of the Appalachians that got caught on some coral. It's why we're like this, I think. You don't stand a chance of being normal when you were created by the shed skin of an elder god draping itself over a hollow skeleton. You're always going to be a little Off.

If you want to tell the superintendent what a terrible decision this is, his contact information per his publicly available Houston Independent School District website is:

F. Mike Miles HISD Superintendent of Schools 4400 West 18th Street Houston, Texas 77092-8501

Telephone: (713) 556-6300 Fax: (713) 556-6323 hisdsuperintendent@houstonisd.org

i buried a sword my f*ther made in my back yard YEARS ago and i live on a large plot of land and i can’t for the fucking life of me remember where, is anyone out here psychic enough to point me in the right direction, i’m getting exhausted and can only dig so many fucking holes in a day. yes i’m being serious, i want the fucking sword back

can’t use a metal detector bc junk land + lockdowns so i’m just going to dig holes all weekend until my momther starts screaming

only 46 more plots to dig

i was rly unclear so, yellow is places where there’s structures or whatever so it’s not possible for it to be there. red x is where i’ve already been :(

not pictured; mother yelling at me thru the window to fill in and re-seed the holes i’m making

i was going to take a break bc it’s hot and i’ve been playing manual-labour-battleship for going on 3 hours now, but someone just told me “there’s better lies to make up for notes xoxo” so now i ha—i Have to find this sword to deliver it personally up their ass

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA LADS WE’RE IN 34 COULD THIS BE IT AAAAAAAAAAAAA

MY FAMILY SWORD RETURNS TO ME

a girl reunited with her sword

“you can disagree with mitch mcconnell and still wish him well” i wish he would have died right there on camera in front of america that shit would have been fire and i think what the country really needs right now for healing

I wish him, de Santa Claus of FL, and 98% of white male southern elected officials in the American South a very merry immediate death