"omg i hate small talk!!" like damn u must be so fucking annoying. its called being nice. if i was at a party and i was like "how r your classes going" and you were like "ugh lets skip that i KNOW u dont really CARE about my classes and i dont care about YOURS" i would log out of there so fucking fast
I am a disabled woman.
I am pro choice.
But every time someone on MY side opens their mouths and tells stories about people aborting their disabled fetuses in order to show why we NEED abortion, I feel sick. I feel betrayed. I feel like my life isn’t worth considering.
These are just some of the many ways members of the LGBT community identify themselves in a beautiful photo series from San Francisco-based photographer Sarah Deragon.
Deragon’s “The Identity Project” has taken her around the country as she “seeks to explore the labels we choose to identify with when defining our gender and sexuality.” Her portraits show the amazing diversity and vibance of a queer community that for too long has been defined by outsiders.
I see a lot of non-Brits post links from them occasionally and they’re probably not aware of just how bad they are.
They are constantly publishing sensationalised trash which demonises immigrants, the poor, the disabled, and basically anyone who’s already being shit on. A lot of it tends to be outright lies.
They have a history of supporting fascism, from the black shirts in 30s Germany to Marine Le Pen and the National Front today.
They continue to hire people like Richard Littlejohn (who essentially made a trans schoolteacher kill herself), Jan Moir (who blamed Stephen Gately’s death on him being gay) among others.
It’s probably not too hard to find an another site for whatever wacky story they basically lifted from someone else. They’re really awful, I’ll try and add some links later.
The blackshirts weren’t in Germany (although the Mail also outright supported Hitler pre-war as well, stating among other things that “the sturdy young Nazis are Europe’s guardians”) but yes.
Not only is this wonderful to see, but coilhouse brings up a point that I have been thinking about for quite some time. The imagery of the gynoid with department store mannequin proportions is one so married to sci fi that questioning it feels discouraged (hint: it is) If these gynoids can have such humanoid features, why are they never, ever fat? It’s a question that I know the answer to. I know who is drawing them this way, and I know who consumes these images without questioning them. But for those of us who question; we notice when we’re not represented. And while I’d rather be a cyborg than a goddess, my proportions are very, very unwelcome in the former option.