We Are Sharing Some Of Our Favourite Gifs Each Day This Month For Antifa International’s Fifth Anniversary.

Zoned out for twenty min thinking about how I’d explain fortnite to an ancient Roman

Project D by 肉十鹿RSL

a compilation of jet siquliak quotes that did for me what therapy never could:

"I find that the way I think of the world often affects how it really is."

"Juno, I recommend you believe that you will survive this. For yourself."

"We may look backwards only to ensure we have not come this way before."

"One cannot blame a gunshot victim’s death solely on the designer of the gun nor the shooter. Both are guilty. Neither holds power without the other. And they are both to be feared."

"You are correct. We will never be forgiven. But that is not a reason to die. Not when other good can still be done. The past is dead behind us. The future is potential."

"You will build another. Or teach someone else to. Or do something else that is good. It will not be better than the suffering we've caused. But it will be good, and that must be enough. It is all we have."

"Growth is painful. But I have found that when two people are both attempting that growth, they can often find greater success if they do it together."

"In a galaxy this large, the connection between any two people must always be a miracle. It is not a miracle in the sense that it is rare. Even with so much empty space, humanity has chosen many times over to cluster together -- in communities, in families, in partnerships. Our collisions with other people are inevitable. But it is a miracle in the sense that each meeting, taken by itself, is so unlikely that it may as well be impossible. If the galaxy's grand clock were reset to its start, we could assume with confidence that this group of six would never be assembled again. With lives from planets Solar and Outer, from cities and swamps, it is doubtful that any two of us would make any connection at all. Yet here we are. And I know no name for that but 'miracle.'"

"Stop looking for why this can’t be happening and adapt to the fact that it is."

"I choose to believe it. And I choose to believe that my belief changes the world."

These are so fun to make

✨ Back your boys at International Rescue! ✨

okay people who have been fighting to unwhitewash the clones, now is your time to help māori!!

What’s happening

- 182.41 hectares of our ancestral land in Wairarapa has come up for sale.

- This whenua backs onto our maunga Tararua, our awa, Waiohine and is near our whānau urupā, Te Uru o Tāneroa.

- The tender price is between $1.2-1.5 million.

- Our whānau are trying to raise money to meet the tender price.

- Our iwi has not settled, so we have no collective financial base.

- Our whānau want to buy back our whenua and establish papakāinga and sustainable business to bring our people home to Wairarapa.

If the tender is unsuccessful they will keep all donations for the next bit of land that comes up

Givealittle

#LandBack Help us buy back our ancestral land in Wairarapa

#LandBack. We have a once in a lifetime opportunity to buy it back and help recreate a hub for our Ngāti Kahukuraawhitia people.

(information has been copied from @/amscraig on twitter, who is a member of the iwi attempting to reclaim their land)

it is so disappointing that this is the only option to reclaim illegally stolen land for the iwi, but the government wont work towards settlement with many iwi so we have no other choice

if you have any money avaliable to donate please do, anything would be appreciated!

here's ur reminder that axolotl is NOT pronounced like "ak-suh-laa-tl" (or lot-ul), it is in fact a nahuatl word (that most commonly translates to "water dog" actually, very cute!) and is pronounced "ah-SHOW-lowtch" !!!!

i think abt this every time i see a post abt axolotls coz i just know there r so many ppl mispronouncing it and the thought bothers me. if ppl, esp white ppl, reblogged this to spread the word to those who may not be aware, i'd be very grateful. thank u!!

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.

It was 1985, 4 years after the CDC first released papers on what would eventually become known as HIV/AIDS and 7 years after the first known death from an infection from HIV-2. Reagan hadn't even said the word AIDS by the time Hudson 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.