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Esoterica

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brashblacknonbeliever:

1491s on Black Face (by the1491s)

Here are some choice excerpts from the video:

When we see ignorance plastered on our pages or videos, we tend not to dignify the kind of thoughts that come from such fecal grey matter.

But we felt we had to address these comments particularly. Simply put: If you are incensed at only the blackface, you missed the point.

[…]

On several blogs, we see things like “I will not tolerate anti-black racism.” That’s a redundant statement. Racism is racism, regardless of actual skin-color or background. It is power plus prejudice aimed with the single target of dehumanization.

[…]

Some of you said that you got the point, and said we lost you at the blackface.

If we lost you at the blackface, then you didn’t get the point.

  1. They called a very valid criticisms “ignorance” and “fecal grey matter.” How fucking insulting is that?
  2. I’m pretty sure not a damn person downplayed the importance of the message. We got the damn message. Dressing up as an Indian for Halloween isn’t ok. It’s a racist ass stereotype and we shouldn’t do it. We get it. What we’re trying to get through your think ass skulls is you DO NOT and SHOULD NOT use another tool of oppression (e.g. BLACK-FACE) to make your damn point. It wasn’t fucking necessary. You had an extremely good video going before you had white guy pop up in fucking black-face, holding a god damn watermelon, and drinking what was supposed to be a fucking 40oz beer. THAT SHIT IS NOT OK! I DON’T GIVE A GOOD GOD DAMN WHAT THE FUCK YOU WERE “TRYING” TO DO! WHAT YOU DID WAS INSULTING AND TRIGGERING AS FUCK! YOU TOOK A SHIT ALL OVER BLACK PEOPLE TO MAKE YOUR “POINT” AND WE’RE SUPPOSED TO BE “OK” WITH THAT SHIT? FUCK THAT AND FUCK YOU!
  3. They mock anti-black racism. Are you motherfucking serious right now? Like really fucking serious with this shit? Anti-Black racism is a very real and prevalent thing. Your original video and this bullshit ass reply is proof of that.
  4. Once again, we didn’t “miss the point” when we say that you lost us at the black-face. We get your fucking point. What we’re saying is your message is awesome and would have been even better if YOU DIDN’T HAVE A FUCKING WHITE GUY PARADING AROUND IN ONE OF THE WORST DISPLAYS OF BLACK-FACE WE HAVE EVER FUCKING SEEN! THAT SHIT WASN’T NECESSARY!

This response it much longer but I can’t go through it all right now. If you’re willing to read through or listen through this stack of shit, be my fucking guest. I cannot do it.

I’m gonna go find some kittens or puppies to stare at because right now I feel like punching a god damn hole in the wall and pretending like it’s the face of the motherfucker who ok’d the original video and this shit filled response.

(via womanistgamergirl)

ateyelevel
kyssthis16:

deliciouskaek:

wretchedoftheearth:

takealookatyourlife:

lonelypopularguy:

We men are fucked… Forever…
FML
19 notes, nobody gives a flying fuck… Particularly women…
Oh and I am tall, 6’2” but i’m skinny = I am worth horseshit to most women… Girls will say the opposite, but all skinny guys i know have it super tough… So spare me the: it is ok a skinny guy, some girls like it… You tolerate it if we promise you the moon…

White man tears.
The only thing worse than this post is this guy’s url. 

Yeah, because women can never be tall for a man…
or too muscular…
right.


but seriously, fuck this shit. fuck it with all the dicks, human and otherwise, and maybe some fingers.
fuck it.

False equivalencies FTW!!! How in the fuck is this even similar? I can’t……..

Someone should tell the OP, the problem isn’t height or weight, it’s being an asshole.

kyssthis16:

deliciouskaek:

wretchedoftheearth:

takealookatyourlife:

lonelypopularguy:

We men are fucked… Forever…

FML

19 notes, nobody gives a flying fuck… Particularly women…

Oh and I am tall, 6’2” but i’m skinny = I am worth horseshit to most women… Girls will say the opposite, but all skinny guys i know have it super tough… So spare me the: it is ok a skinny guy, some girls like it… You tolerate it if we promise you the moon…

image

White man tears.

The only thing worse than this post is this guy’s url. 

Yeah, because women can never be tall for a man…

or too muscular…

right.

but seriously, fuck this shit. fuck it with all the dicks, human and otherwise, and maybe some fingers.

fuck it.

False equivalencies FTW!!! How in the fuck is this even similar? I can’t……..

Someone should tell the OP, the problem isn’t height or weight, it’s being an asshole.

nope. not adequate. :/

deliciouskaek:

justkindofanerd:

justkindofanerd:

And now I want to end it.: A Message About Race and Racism in Teen wolf

wolfgenes:

angrymanagement:

jeffdavis75:

I have seen a number of posts regarding race and racism in Teen Wolf that reference a quote I made in an interview about my efforts in trying…

I didn’t say calling someone a racist is bullying, I said calling someone a racist when they clearly aren’t is.  I also never said racists aren’t hurting anyone; I would be amongst the last people to say that as I will forever be physically scarred because of the actions of a 13 year old red neck who when asked why he attacked me responded “It doesn’t matter he’s Mexican”.  You don’t have to lecture me about the dangers of racism; I’ve faced them first hand. It’s okay to be angry at racists and racism, but you don’t have to scream and yell and be forever angry and bitter try or claim that any slight was motivated by racism in order to make the world change. You don’t have to let the status quo stand and you shouldn’t but targeting people for a crime they did not commit isn’t the way to make things change.

As for society not caring about people of color, well I think you’re wrong, because I know I had support from the judicial system, the police, and my friends, family, and neighbors after the incident that left me with a large scar on my forehead.  

If you choose to respond please try and remain civil, conversation almost never have to devolve into name calling. 

Nah, I’m not saying a damn thing different than what I would be saying if I made the words nice and friendly for you, so if you’re going to listen, you’re going to get the same goddamn message. Whether you hear it or not depends on you, not me. I’m not dressing this shit up with roses and poetry so you can feel more comfortable being a smarmy asshole while you make useless attempts to condescend to me. Using pretty words doesn’t mean you’re not saying something fucking dumb, and frankly, something actually harmful.

I don’t give a fuck if my tag was rude. It’s rude to get into a conversation about anti-Black racism in media, and how Black folks are affected most by said racism without regard for the racial context of the posts before yours, and start talking about how calling someone racist when they do racist things and uphold racist ideologies is baaaaaad.

I’d say that was the most fucking ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard, but some other  cockvomit said it was “racist to call people racist,” so nah, you don’t get the trophy this time — though I would say it looks like you’re still a contender with the previous bullshit you ejaculated all over the topic. Boooo.

It’s rude to get into conversations about anti-Black racism, then decide that you know better than Black folks about what constitutes anti-Black attitudes and behaviors, and use words that have been used to silence and dehumanize Black folks in your shitty tone arguments (check it out y’all, I’m Angry! and Bitter! and apparently Devolving! the conversation). Fuck your feelings. No one gives a fuck about what you think about anti-Black racism, because unless you are actively trying to dismantle it, and unless you are in support of those affected by it, your personal feelings about it are reduced to silent assent. Congratulations, you’re actually contributing, and to the wrong fucking side. 

So if you’re going to talk that shit, be prepared to deal with it. If you’re going to say stupid shit, be prepared to deal with it. If you’re not prepared, then shut the fuck up. It’s that simple. If you don’t like that, you can either learn something you didn’t know (by shutting the fuck up and listening), you can continue to shout down the people it’s affecting the most and thereby be a part of the system that makes our lives hell by defending and/or excusing racism, or you can respond with more bullshit tone arguments that don’t do anything but silence the people who need to be heard most. in conversations where they need to have a voice be the voice.

Because right now, you ain’t saying or doing anything I haven’t heard/seen before.

From white folks. 

And mainly from racist white folks.

I’m over that shit.

(via deliciouskaek)

deliciouskaek

look-a here

deliciouskaek:

this transethnic shit? nah, son.

A line has been drawn, and you ain’t crossin that shit today. unless you are actually a transethnic adoptee, taken from your own culture as a child and inserted into a new one, you are not what the fuck you want to be.

My ethnicity is in part what my ancestors carried over here with them — what’s left of it — and in part what was forced upon them, and thereby upon me. You don’t have that, that never happened? You can’t claim it.

My race was forced upon me and mine, based on my skin color and my parentage (good old “one drop rule,” remember that?). You don’t have that, that didn’t happen? You can’t claim that either. 

My Blackness, as defined by white folks the world over, has been a means and an excuse for races and cultures all over the fucking globe, including yours, to step on me and treat me as less than human, as a soulless thing that now has to be tolerated because (locally) Constitutional Law and the (globally) UN says so. 

As one who does not share this background, who will never have this experience, who is of the fucking oppressive class/culture/race, you don’t get to say “We took everything else, we gon’ just snatch this up, too?”

No. You cannot — you will not — think I’m going to just sit here and let you tell me that this is one more fucking thing I have to stand for in my quest for equity. Not equality, mother fucker. Equity

You and yours, you took us, slapped chains on us and called us yours. You took our children from the arms of their mothers and called them yours. You took fathers from their families and called them yours. You took our languages. You took our histories. You took everything from us. When you were forced to let go, you slapped legal bindings on us and called us yours. You took our music, repackaged it, and called it yours. You took our styles, our fashions, our clothes, repackaged them, and called them yours. You took our skin, repackaged it as a leathery fucking tan worthy of a Coach handbag, and called it yours. You took our hair (remember those fucked-up 80s perms?) and the term “natural hair,” after we fought long and hard for the right to wear it, and called it yours. You have taken everything.

And now that we’ve endured it all, fought for it all, struggled with it all, been broken and even died en masse for the little we have, you want this, too? You want the experience without the fight that laid low so many of us? You want the title without the struggle by which it was earned? You want to wear Blackness without having been Black?

You can’t have it.

As they say, real recognize real, and bitch I DON’T KNOW YOU.

I will not try to understand. It is you who do not understand, and it is because of your white privilege that you do not understand. You have been swimming in that privilege so long, it’s starting to stink.

Also, fuck you for even considering you can say that word. You can’t. I don’t give a fuck who you think you are inside your heart of hearts, dried-up and desiccated thing that it must be. That word has too much fucking history and pain and death behind it for you to snatch it up and taste it like a fucking hors d’oeuvre, I don’t give a fuck what internal struggles your white ass is having.

In short, fuck you.

better0ff-here
ladyatheist:

somepolitics:

pedopatroller:

Trayvon Martin’ing.  I know it’s mean, but if you think about it, it’s hilarious. No I’m not racist at all.  #15

You know who would think this is really hilarious?
Trayvon’s family.


I hope you get hit by a god damn car you simple motherfucker.

ladyatheist:

somepolitics:

pedopatroller:

Trayvon Martin’ing.
I know it’s mean, but if you think about it, it’s hilarious.
No I’m not racist at all.
#15

You know who would think this is really hilarious?

Trayvon’s family.

I hope you get hit by a god damn car you simple motherfucker.

(via womanistgamergirl)

dadgenes

For those who think I rant about the patriarchy and misogyny too much

queen-gertrude:

TRIGGER WARNING FOR RAPE CULTURE, STREET HARASSMENT 

thelittlekneesofbees:

To the first man, who I met by the Eiffel Tower my second week in Paris, when I didn’t know better.  Who took me out four times, who waved little red flags that I tried to ignore.  Like asking me outright if I was a virgin on the first date, like calling me five different pet names when I’d asked him not to throughout the second, like saying he’d heard that feminists were not real women during the third, like disappearing for a week and a half after the fourth.  Who, as it turns out, was not the bullet, but the careening fourteen-wheeler that I narrowly managed to dodge.  Who admitted that he hit the young woman that his mother was trying to force him to marry.  Who didn’t want to marry her because he believes in romantic love.  Who doesn’t see the contradiction in those two sentences.

To the guy in my medieval literature class, who lent me one of Camus’ plays and showed me around the library.  Who wants to use his French education not to escape to the West, but to go back to his third-world home country to teach at its eight-year-old university.  Who I admired until he asked me what my American boyfriend had thought about me coming to Paris, until he demanded to know why I didn’t have one (a boyfriend, that is), until he asked if it was required that I marry an American.  Who reached out and touched my earrings, without asking, the next time he saw me.  Who won’t take a hint. 

To the PhD student who tried to take me up to his apartment after a five minute conversation, when I had just wanted to get lunch, who said there’s a first time for everything.  Who told me that we were university students, living in a 21st century democracy, and that relations between men and women were different now, so what was I so scared of?  Who recoiled in shock when I told him that I had friends who’d been raped, and by other university students, at that.  Who does not have to think about rape on a daily basis.  Who insisted on paying for my lunch, because “it was a matter of honor.”  Who then physically prevented me from handing my money to the cashier, when I was trying to make it clear that this was not a date.  Who didn’t believe me when I said I didn’t want a boyfriend, five times.  Whose number I blocked the moment I stepped on the metro.  Who has called me three times since.  Who told me he wants to go into Senegalese politics.  Who, I can only hope, will listen to the women of his country better than he listened to me.

To the delivery guy on the red motorcycle idling outside of the apartments on Avenue de Porte de Vanves, the ones I walk past every day, who said bonsoir and who, because I said it in return to be polite, followed me to the metro as I walked, head twisted down, pretending that I didn’t understand the language I’ve studied for eight years.

To the two men Thursday night in le Marais, swaggering drunk toward me, ignoring the male friend standing by my side, who leered at my chest and slurred, “Bonsoir, comme tu es mignonne,” as I shoved past them, trying to sound angry, not afraid.  Who left me feeling fidgety and panicked, so when I took the night bus in the wrong direction and found myself alone with two other strange men at a bus stop at 2:30 A.M., I let the cab driver fleece me out of 25 euro just to take a taxi home.

To the group of teenage boys loitering on the corner by my apartment, who decided to sound a siren at my approach because I was wearing a knee-length dress and a bulky sweater.  Who made me regret forgoing tights because I had wanted to feel the spring air on my calves for once.  Who will never have to wear an itchy pair of pantyhose in their entire lives.  To whom I said nothing, because I still have to walk past that corner twice a day for the next three-and-a-half months, because there were five of them and one of me. 

To the three men standing on the corner of the periphery five minutes later when I was crossing the street.  To the one who motioned for his friends to turn and look at me, quick, and then left his wolf-whistle ringing in my ears, shame like sunburn covering my face.  Who didn’t care that it was broad daylight.  Who made me wish that I could swear a blue streak back in French, without my accent betraying that I am American, which is another word for “easy” here.

To the two men at sunset on the bridge by Saint Michel, in the middle of tourist central, who made skeeting noises at me, like a pair of sputtering mosquitoes, to get my attention.  Who laughed when I flipped them off, and who kept hissing at me anyway.  Who forced me to keep checking over my shoulder, all the way to the metro, to make sure that I wasn’t being followed.

But also to the French friend who blamed my problems with French men on my university in the northern suburbs, a Parisian synonym for emeutes, gang violence, and immigration.  Who insisted that if he brought me to his upper-crust private (white) university—where the French elite reproduces itself into perpetuity—I would meet nicer French guys.  Who forced me to defend the men who’d harassed me against his barely-veiled, racist critique.

And also to the American friend at home who nearly rolled his eyes as he half-listened to my stories, who said, “Oh god, it’s hard being so attractive, isn’t it?” as if I was being vain.  Who laughs and does not understand why I always duck out of the frame of photographs, who knows nothing of what my body means to me. 

And that’s just two months in Paris. 

To all the Italian men who made me wish I had dyed my hair black before studying in Florence, who kept me from going out dancing because I got sick of feeling them creeping up behind me, sneaking their hands around my waist (and lower) when I’d already said NO three times.

To the six-foot-something Georgetown student who prided himself on protecting the girls from being groped on the dance floor.  Who chose to write about the rape of the Sabine woman for that week’s assignment.  Who described the way her breast slipped free of her tunic when she fell, as if he was writing a porno, not a rape scene, who had the woman fall in love with her Roman rapist the next morning, after he spun her a tale of the coming glory of his country. Who said “in a fit of passion, she thrust herself upon his member” and was not joking.  Who ended the story with the titular character saying to her children that she had been raped, but only at first.

To the seventh-grade boy who told my younger sister that he could rape her, if he wanted to.

To the gang of twenty-five year-olds in the Jeep who hollered at her as they drove past, leering at her thirteen-year-old body dressed in sweat pants and a tank top.  Who made my sister, fearless on the soccer field and in the classroom and in the karate studio, run home crying. Who were the reason she became afraid to walk the dog by herself in our “safe, suburban” neighborhood.

To my father, who said, “What white male privilege?”  Who was not being ironic.

(via masteradept)

deliciouskaek

But he got to the heart of it with that line, though.

deliciouskaek:

“We have to look like we care.”

Not, “We have to care,” or “We have to do something!” or “We need to fix this.”

Nope. Just admitting that they’re fully aware that they have to fake it, because they realize if they don’t, they will have a problem on their hands.

That’s why Chief Lee stepped down “temporarily”. That’s why Zimmerman moved out of his house with no fear of reprisal. 

Because folks are out there pretending to care.

Some of them care. I feel like I have to look like I care about that right now, because if I don’t, some folks will be all up in my inbox complaining about how I make them feel. And if this makes you mad, I’m probably talking to you.

sourcedumal

LOL at mothafuckas acting like little brown girl don’t see white princesses and wonder why they don’t look like them…

sourcedumal:

I tell you about white folks. Always wanting POC to see things in their racist ass white supremacist view.

I wondered ALL the fucking time why there were no brown princesses. I wondered WHY I didn’t see ANYBODY who looked like me.

Cinderella, Aurora, Snow White, Ariel, Alice, Belle, Giselle, Megara, . Jasmine and Mulan were 2 drops in the whole.

When the live action multi-racial Rogers and Hammerstein’s Cinderella came out with Brandy as the main character???

I watched that fucking tape so much that I broke the VHS strip. Because I CLUNG to the fact that a black woman FINALLY got a fucking narrative that involved a black girl becoming a princess. Being valued and loved by all. Being seen as the ultimate beauty.

And then white folks want to talk like PaTF was the second coming of Jesus and so we uppity nigrahs should be happy.

White folks want to talk shit about how “children don’t see color.” Imma need you to take that colorblind bullshit out of here.

The DOLL TEST, bitch. Watch it. Watch that shit and tell me black children don’t internalize the RACIST ASS STRUCTURES THAT EXIST.

Well you know little brown children aren’t human, or children, so they can’t possibly have feelings or imaginations. I mean really, how dare we act like brown skin = complex human beings? That privilege is reserved for white people.

the-original-dtwps

Esoterica: I just need to scream about this somewhere.

deluxvivens:

dumbthingswhitepplsay:

I knew this would happen, but I don’t know if I can handle it. I’m already fucking reaching my limit.

As Arkh sees more eyes, there is more misinformation and more bullshit.

More white people fucking bawwing about how they’re not included. Fuck you, don’t care, and…

I have not been paying much attention to this b/c I am not at all interested in gaming, but this is ridiculous. There is so much that queer poc are not a part of and these folks dont even care, but now some queer poc are making their own small tiny postage stamp of a space and these folks need to lose their minds like this? 

Y’all need to think about why hearing the word “No” applied to you makes the earth split open so hard.

(via deluxvivens-deactivated20130417)

the-original-dtwps

I just need to scream about this somewhere.

dumbthingswhitepplsay:

I knew this would happen, but I don’t know if I can handle it. I’m already fucking reaching my limit.

As Arkh sees more eyes, there is more misinformation and more bullshit.

More white people fucking bawwing about how they’re not included. Fuck you, don’t care, and guess what? You don’t get to be good guys. Though one of you will be a “nice guy”, but I think you know what that means. AND I GIVES NO FUCKS.

People who aren’t queer PoC silently demanding to be included with disclaimers of “I know you don’t have to”, over and over and over again.

Someone fucking asked if OTHERKIN would be included.

THE ONLY FUCKING PEOPLE I PROMISE WILL BE IN THIS GAME ARE QUEER. PEOPLE. OF. COLOR.

I reserve the right to change ANYTHING about ANYBODY outside of there being QUEER PEOPLE OF COLOR.

I’m so tired of this bullshit that says if you include some things you need to include everything or you’re an asshole. The only promise I’ve made is that this game will be about QUEER. PEOPLE. OF. COLOR.

Oh, and fuck the bitch who assumed that 1) Haruka is a man. Seriously. HARUKA. HA. RU. FUCKING. KA. and 2) Haruka is the main character. OHHHHHHHH SO SORRY. Five fucking seconds on the Arkh page woulda shown you that U RONG! U. RONG. 3) That Haruka is a “rich, heterosexual god”. OHHHHHHHH TEN SECONDS ON HARUKA’S PAGE WOULD HAVE LET YOU KNOW THAT HARUKA IS THE ONLY FUCKING CHARACTER WHO IS NOT A GOD. They’re a SERVANT. TO A DEITY. WHO IS THE BROWN CHICK STANDING NEXT TO THEM. Oh, and Aina’s PALE? WHAT? SIT THE FUCKING FUCK DOWN. WE FUCKING PHOTOSHOPPED HER DARKER PURPOSELY. This is TWO characters out of EIGHT (but of course if you think Haruka is the main character, and though you probably don’t know about the OTHER SIX CHARACTERS). Neelu is going to be DELICIOUSLY dark, and Queen Zahira will be black. Literally. Darker than the night fucking sky. She’ll make Alex motherfucking Wek jealous of her blackness. BLACKITY BLACK. BLACKITY BLACK BLACK MCBLACK HOLE BLACKNESS. She’ll be so fucking black her touch could burn a bitch to death because she absorbs all light and heat. BLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK.

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