ff

{yusor mohammad from deah shaddy barakat's vine}

you do not shoot and kill a person because you had an argument about parking. you shoot and kill a person because of hatred. racism, sexism, hatred. you kill a person because you do not respect their humanity.

{yusor mohammad, deah shaddy barakat, razan mohammad abu-salha - images from facebook by way of thenation.com}

yusor, deah and razan were shot and killed this week. and it wasn't because of an argument about parking.

* the most common type of american terrorist is a white man with a weapon and a grudge

and. speaking of grudges, male anger...

* why do women play these games?

 

 

 

 

(ooooooo)

(sezzzzzy)

(stalking!)

(bullying!)

* 50 shades of attempting to pass abuse off as romance - images from the sixth siren of pandora

what's that there? consent! or the disturbing lack of it in 50 shades of grey, ew, ew, ew, please please don't support this movie or book, ew, come on. i have nothing at all against erotica or bdsm, but this isn't it. i hate it so much, so much, so much. not to mention it is shitty writing... just in general.

* advice to nsfw fic writes and novelists now that fifty shades of grey is a movie

BUT HERE IS A HAPPINESS LINK!!

* 10 trans women of color in love

happy friday, palentines and galentines! 

take it from my sight

{from here}

if you are not following what is happening in ferguson, start right this second. this one is a big one. this is one we will remember.

if you are not heartbroken and furious, you are not paying attention.

my heart is broken. that country is broken.

i have been sitting up these last few nights, and last week, watching. suppressing the desire to throw up. not able to suppress the tears. i am thinking about the brother from ragtime... he wanted to say... every day i wake up knowing what you've lost and what is owing...
yeah, i know i'm comparing it to a musical, i know, i know. but it is so fucking sad, that's all i can handle. we are all coalhouse. we are all michael brown.

say goodbye to music, say goodbye to light.

forgive me the cheesiness. it's all way too much without it.

i read the second autopsy and couldn't stop weeping.
that was an 18 year old boy.
arms up.
head hanging.

and left. laying there.

(someone on twitter pointed out the tragic poetry in the medical examiner being the same man who reviewed the autopsies of jfk and mlk jr.)

we'll never get to heaven till we reach that day...

you do not shoot an unarmed human person six times. you don't. you don't you don't. not for jaywalking or for shoplifting. not for anything.

(and FUCK you for that narrative, as if shoplifting could ever come close to a motive - ignoring that the cop didn't know that michael was suspected. find me a teenaged white girl who never shoplifted a lipstick, a pair of earrings... i honestly can't handle that there are people out there who thought that saying this human, this BOY, wasn't an innocent victim because of fucking shoplifting? or any other bullshit character assassination. it wouldn't matter if he was a total piece of shit. that's not the point. the point is. unarmed. unarmed. no. furious.)

you do not threaten to shoot a reporter when you are supposed to be de-escalating a rage built up by and boiled over by the unjustifiable and obscene shooting of a human person. you do not dress up in military grade armour and call people animals when one of yours has murdered one of theirs.

it is all so very far gone beyond wrong.
a day of peace, a day of pride, a day of justice: we have been denied. let the new day dawn, oh lord i pray...

{from the daily mail}

saved my life

the olympics are over, and just like after anything you love so much ends, i am a little heavy, a little tired, a little blurry today. i want harmony and soup and writing by thoughtful, soulful women.

an old-ish favourite, today. for to sway and hum to.



happy monday, see you again in four years.

on this

 {philip seymour hoffman}

i used to think it was silly to get upset over celebrity deaths. i mean, really upset. beyond the general sadness that you feel when anyone dies, the sort of heavy shrug knowing someone has lost someone and of course that is sad. but to get really upset. to feel that i was suffering. that i had any part of that loss. it seemed silly. until alexander mcqueen died. and all my reason dropped out from under me, and i was shaken in a way i didn't really have any right to. i was furious and lost. i felt as though my team, my family, had suffered a truly terrible loss. like 'we' would never be the same. whoever 'we' was. not a real thing, 'we', just a feeling.

"His metier was human loneliness — 

the terrible uncinematic kind that has very little to do with high-noon heroism and everything to do with everyday empathy — 

and the necessary curse of human self-knowledge." 

{tom junod on hoffman. for esquire}

yesterday's news of philip seymour hoffman's passing had that same hard and harsh impact. i felt and feel hollowed out. and i feel sickly sad and embarrassed, ashamed? what right do i have to mourn him? his family, his kids, his friends. 'we' are losing an artist, and the idea of a man. they have lost a person. a true and complete person. i am mourning him, though. i can't help it. i am selfish and i will miss him and his work so so much. 'we' will never be the same.

saved my life

this week is all for the girls with the darkest circles round their eyes. i had the pleasure of seeing diana at their cd release last week. carmen elle kills me. new house runs me down like a freight train. an unbearable weight. and then the whole weekend with the incomparable sarah jay, and all the music videos we could get on the terrible hotel wifi, and all the fash-add-making. talking about light and about sadness. this life is so beautiful these days, it is just overwhelming.





happy monday, sleepless beauties.

send it up

yes. exactly. awb is so fantastic. all of edmonton go to his show please. june 9th to august 18th at the art gallery of alberta.

reflections

is there an opposite post to the saved my life posts? can i do that? i am. doing it. this hit me right through where it hurts and dug in and stayed there. what the fuck, justin. weeping. justin you're a total asshole.



(best jewellery ad ever made. heart destroyed. and then so strange and so absurd.)