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The Week In Aggressions, Because Some of Them Are Pretty Macro

October 27, 2014

When someone posts a rape threat to your blog because they don’t like the facts you posted or the opinion you posted or the fact that they can’t use their internet penis to scare you off the internet.

That happened to me in the past seven days. And on average about once a week.

When someone on Facebook specifically tags you in a post and requests that you prove that “The Talk” that all people of Color, especially males get from those parents who are responsible. In this specific case it was to seek proof that a mother who told her son “don’t run from the cops or they’ll shoot you wasn’t “just being paranoid.

That happened to me in the past seven days.

When a male posts his opinion of Jian Ghomeshi’s firing which includes the sentence “if Gomeshi’s personal sexual life is the whole reason behind this, CBC deserves to lose this 50 million dollar lawsuit,” but responds to women posting the accusers side of the story with “I refuse to speculate.”

That happened to me today..

When in the course of that same conversation a commenter brings up BDSM and goes out of his way to mention blackmail and “misunderstandings.”

That happened today too.

When people think a Ray Rice jersey and a female doll made up to look beaten is a clever Halloween costume.

RayRice Dad


When a white couple dresses up in black face as Ray Rice and Janay Palmer.


Ray Rice Adult

That happened to the whole damn world this week.



Happened to all of us too.

No, I’m not going to go point by point and explain why demeaning the pain and fear that PoC labor under every day as “being paranoid” is racist and makes it clear that you have a serious compassion problem.

I am further not going to help someone who appears intelligent define the word IF or the word SPECULATION or explain how using one means you’re doing the other.

And if you can’t figure out why domestic violence and black face aren’t funny you are lost and need to back away from my blog right now.

I can’t with this shit anymore.

STOP BEING HORRIBLE PEOPLE. I don’t have time to explain this over and over again.

Why is this complicated?




Never Forget? Can We Stop With This Now, Please?

September 11, 2014


Further thoughts

Originally posted on What a Witch:

So everyone knows what today is. Everyone knows that a bunch of people died due to extremism and today everyone is going to bombarded with two things; idiotic “Never Forget,” signs, images, bumper stickers and what not; as well as multiple television shows and movies attempting to retraumatize the public for cash.

And all we’re going to be told today is that we should never forget. Yeah…thanks. I needed that reminder because the image of two people holding hands as they leapt to their deaths from the higher floors of the North Tower, so as to have some human contact in their last moments on earth, was going to go away any time soon; just,you know, pop right out of my head.

You know what we shouldn’t forget?

We shouldn’t forget that there were actually four planes that crashed that day. One took out a building full of soldiers. One…

View original 697 more words

On Ferguson And Race…Sort Of

August 15, 2014

Dear Ali,

I fear you’re in for serious disappointment if you keep looking for ways to “create a dialogue” with your Caucasian peers.

As you can see





And in many of the comments on your own post, it is pretty much impossible for People of Color to talk honestly about race the ways in which it impacts our lives without being subjected to at least some level of racist backlash.

Watching the derailment and devaluation of the experiences of PoC?

Yeah, I’m done with that forever. i mean it. I’m done. I cannot with this anymore.

So here is my idea. Rather than taking on the every bit responsibility for keeping the conversation civil and, you know existent, we should instead raise the bar. Maybe, instead of asking again and again and again for meaningful, rational dialogue and being met with hate and derision we should, instead require more of our Caucasian allies. It’s time that we require them to listen.

It’s time for some monologue.We talk. They listen. We share our experiences, you know, the constant fear and pain that comes from being at best, a second class citizen and they support us. that’s how it needs to start working from now on.

Seriously, racism is a thing; a systemic thing that negatively impacts everyone but has a greater negative impact on PoC while benefitting Caucasians. Sexism is also a thing that harms everyone but causes greater harm to women while benefitting men.

Are you not tired of having to explain this all the time? Of having to justify and qualify and convince?

But you know what? Some of the very same feminists who were all over #YesAllWomen as a rallying cry to share our pain about sexism cannot bring themselves to show the very little respect it takes to listen when PoC try to do the same about racism.

We have to be done accepting that. Forever.

We have to be done accepting tone policing and white women’s tears and the concern trolling over “black on black crime,” which ignores the facts of crime, and statistics and how words and rational thought work. Instead, we need to just call them out for what they are.

In case anyone reading is confused what they are, are tools used to protect the system of racism that provides privilege to Caucasians.

The people who use those tools are not our allies. They might call themselves allies. They might appear to be allies in certain situations but if they are unable to resist the urge to take up the tools of their privilege in order to listen to us then we can no longer pretend that they are our allies. Neither should we want them on our team because clearly, they do not really want to help make things better.

When men and anti-equality women do this kind of thing we make it clear that they are in the wrong and in many cases go so far as to mock them for their ignorance. I’m not making a value judgment about that reaction, I’m simply saying that is what happens.

But when it comes to race we are expected to keep trying, keep policing our tone, keep engaging with people who belittle and discount our pain and fear until they are comfortable.

I’m inviting and advising you, along with all PoC and our actual allies to stop that right now because it’s not actually helping. It’s just us, spinning our wheels.

Oh and actual allies? A lot of this is on you. You’ve got to be the ones to step up point out the tools used by false allies and the instances when they are used. Because in the wake of Eric Garner, Michael Brown, and Ezell Ford and so many others, it is clear that the lives of PoC have no real value to our nation and our voices mean less than nothing.

Shame USA

Yes Robin Williams’ Suicide WAS Selfish. That’s How Depression Works

August 13, 2014

We need to stop lying to ourselves about suicide. It is entirely selfish. It’s also giving in whether you like to think if it that way or not.

Selfishness in not a bad thing. We’ve been taught that it is, but let’s be honest, when all the wires are straight and the messages are getting through properly, selfishness is a thing that, at worst, make you kind of a jerk and at best keep you alive. We evolved the urge to take the extra food or the spot closer to the fire as a survival instinct. Yes, sometimes that instinct is now used to take the last cookie or cut off another driver but it is not, in and of itself, a negative emotion.

Look, I struggle with depression. I know the way it feels. As I’ve previously mentioned, I feel it as this crushing weight with teeth and claws and a map to the tender parts of my soul. My level of depression is not impacted by how much money I have, how many friends I can contact, or how cute my outfit is. It can have an impact on those things but it is not impacted by them. Because depression makes me want to not go anywhere, including work, nor talk to people, nor dress in anything but pajamas.

And I’ve had suicidal thoughts; not that I actually want to die so much as how awesome it would be if things suddenly just stopped. Which, I guess, is the lazy person’s version of suicidal thoughts.

And when those happen, the lies depression tells you really kick in. The lies tell you that death is the best answer. Things will stop hurting and since you don’t matter, the world will be so much better off without you.

You spend a not small portion of your time doing any and everything you can to drown out the relentless drum beat of stupid, ugly, worthless all day every day.

And that is hard.

It’s not a thing that I can control But it is a thing that I can fight. And the fight is what matters.

Because the when depression talks, it lies. Anyone who suffers from depression knows that. That’s why we don’t listen.

Except Robin Williams listened. He slipped, one time. He stopped fighting. He knew that depression was lying to him, as evidenced by the fact that he was seeking treatment, but he listened anyway. He gave in to that selfish urge to listen to the lies and end the pain.

It was a mistake, a selfish mistake. We all make those. The lies of depression don’t make the decisions less selfish. They make the sufferer look at the consequences through a fun house mirror where pain is joy and loss is benefit.  The thing about suicide is, you can’t fix it after the fact. You can’t decide to share the cookie or let the next guy merge before you because you’re gone. You’re gone and the people left behind are suffering.

Hey you know what, I’m not only someone who fights depression, I’m the adult child of a parent who listened to the lies.

I promise you one thing, no matter how much counseling they get, no matter how much they are assured that their father loved them, Robin Williams’ kids will be left with one crushing truth for the rest of their lives.

Their father did not love them enough to stay.

Maybe that’s selfish too, which is how grief works. Neither depression nor grief is logical.

Our job, as survivors is to push through the lies and keep fighting.

Call someone, even if it’s just to hear another human voice who cares.


If you’re the kind of person who doesn’t do well on the phone  reach out to IMALIVE. They do online chat and counseling.

Don’t let anything, even the hateful voice in your head, extinguish your light.



Dear Liberals of the World,

July 29, 2014

And people who want to claim that they are compassionate or just, you know, functioning under the basic rules of human decency.



That is all.

No really, this isn’t one of those things that requires a lengthy explanation or examples or footnotes.  This is basic shit. Get it together.

Just fucking stop it.


WTF Banner



The Questions I Ask

July 28, 2014

Maybe it’s because I have a girlfriend and as such, don’t really think about these things. But then, i didn’t think this way when I was single.

Maybe it’s because I grew up in a Caucasian household and no one seemed to ask these questions.

Maybe it’s just me.

Let’s be honest, it’s probably just me.

But there is one aspect of conversations with other Women of Color that consistently baffles me.

No matter the subject; be it hair, feminism, food, anything, but especially discussions of beauty, someone will inevitably ask one question.

What do black men think of this?  And from there we are derailed and we end up focusing on men and their views and feelings.  Forever.

In the course of this derailing I always ask some variation of the same questions and no one has yet given me any kind of satisfactory answer.




WHO GIVES A FUCK? Why is this even a thing?




Does your man like you in makeup? Do black men like makeup?

Who cares? If make up makes you happy then wear it. Why does any man even get an opinion especially some hypothetical man you’re not even dating?

Why, in the middle of primarily female conversations about issues like grooming, do we pause to wonder what men, specifically Men of Color, think about it?

Because here’s what’s really interesting, in primarily Caucasian groups, this does not happen.

Don’t get me wrong, they’ve got problems of their own but they almost never pause in their discussion of hair and nails and makeup to wonder what their men think of those choices.

So really, I’m asking, because I’m honestly confused. Why? Why do we care? We do we keep defining ourselves by their opinion? Why do we allow ourselves to question our own choices and thereby our autonomy in this way?

I do not understand and I’d welcome some insight.

Not Your Momma’s Fairy Tale

July 26, 2014

First off I would like to welcome my new readers. HI NEW READERS! Please stay. Also, tell your friends.

Further, thank you to the person who linked the hell out of my post on correctly identifying Rosie the Riveter in several places. You drove the hell out of my site traffic. much love to you.

I promise to get back to tell the truth about people to their digital faces later but today I am going to tell you a story.


Once upon a time there were two lovely ladies who were in love.

They looked like this:

Is & A

You’re welcome for the eye candy. We are pretty bitches!

Sadly, like many other ladies who are in love they were not ready to admit it to themselves or other people. So, in the place of the pain of honesty they decided to try a poly relationship with someone they thought was a prince.

Poly can work and many people live happily ever after within it but not these ladies. And that’s mostly because the third leg of their triad was not so much a prince as a clinical narcissist who was incapable of being in a loving, healthy relationship.

So that was an issue.

For real. I’ve got stories but they all involve him so none of them are interesting. Also, this is not about him.

Instead this is about the two lovely ladies.

So the prince thing wasn’t working out.

Also, one of the ladies is gay. Which is also an issue.

But these ladies did love each other and they fought hard to be together. Even though there were times that they didn’t have anything to talk about or any real desire to interact, they kept loving and that brought them back to talking.

After much pain and trials and fights and tears, they got out.

After twelve years of emotional abuse against her and six against me, we, um, I mean the ladies, got out. In fact, three years ago yesterday, the lad…fuck it, we got out.

People often ask us how we knew it was time to go and the answer is, we started asking that question.

If you’ve started imagining how much better your life will be once you are no longer in your relationship, it’s probably time to no longer be in that relationship.

Don’t get it twisted, we had a lot of advantages. We had each other. So when he would gaslight us or rage or generally act like himself, we could each give the other a sanity check.

And yes, we were actually in a place where we sometimes had to look at each other and ask “Did that happen the way I remember or the way he said it happened?”

No really. Gaslighting is a fucking trip.

We also had family who helped us get to where we are now. We had friends who were smart enough to know that we weren’t ready to hear “You are being emotionally and mentally abused,” so they instead simply loved and supported us. We got extremely lucky.

So what is the point of this little anecdote? Why am I spending my very early morning typing about this and not ranting about some social injustice?

Because statistically someone reading this has never heard of gaslighting but is suffering from it right now.

Hey there hypothetical person. You are not crazy. This is an actual thing. This kind of abuse is hard to identify. People who do this do not change. They just get better at abusing you. This is not a situation that you can work through or overcome. They are made of poison and you don’t have to eat that anymore.


Yes, it can be extremely difficult on a number of levels. I understand.

Leave anyway. Make a plan. Execute it and get the fuck out. No matter how hard it is or will be, just go.


Because you deserve better. If you take nothing else from this post take that.

You deserve better than that kind of life.


You deserve better



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