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If you’re in a women’s studies, gender studies, or queer studies class and everything is poststructuralist and wrong I recommend writing your papers and responses with these references:

Queer Theory and Social Change, Max H. Kirsch

Nothing Mat(t)ers: A Feminist Critique of Postmodernism, Somer Brodribb

Reclaiming Identity: Realist Theory and the Predicament of Postmodernism, Paula M.L. Moya

Learning From Experience: Minority Identities, Multicultural Struggles, Paula M.L. Moya

and the article Being Lovingly, Knowingly Ignorant: White Feminism and Women of Color by Mariana Ortega is a good reference for anyone having Donna Haraway or Judith Butler or the like shoved down their throat

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the only boys i’ll ever love

The radfem community babbles on about sisterhood and yet it is clear that a lot of you have pets that you are not posting pictures of in a clear flagrant show of anti solidarity. I’m so disappointed in all of you.

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Adam and Eve are banished from the garden of Eden after eating the forbidden fruit [6000 B.C.]

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Credit: Liesl Manone.

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This is important!!! Also you can go through the thread for more info about this !!

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concept

a beaded curtain, but instead of beads they’re worms on strings

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netflix really needs an option that says "i started watching this and it sucked so i turned it off, please stop telling me to continue watching it"

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Finally some good fucking news

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REMEMBER SKIP-IT FROM THE 90’S

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YALL THEY’RE ADVANCING

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stop asking if you’re “valid,” start asking if you’re being honest about belonging to a community. stop this feelings-first, validate-me nonsense and realize that respect and validity starts with you, not with other people’s perception of you. if you don’t fit the definition for a term, then it’s not everyone else’s fault that you don’t feel valid, it’s yours for co-opting a term that wasn’t yours to begin with.

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i want to protect every young girl in the world being wrongly sexualized and forced to grow up way too fast

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Being born male literally confers privileges and benefits upon you from birth. That is an extremely well documented, proven, and objective fact. Your personal feelings about that don't change the material reality of your experiences. Grow up.

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zanypurr

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..There was one way to find out if she was as good at her task as she and Kyprioth hoped, and that was to pull off a war. “What’s a little thing like revolution between friends?” she wondered, and looked ahead. 

[…] …”It’s all so much bigger than I could have imagined,” she murmured. They all waited for what she would say next. Finally Dove took a deep breath and asked, “Have we a symbol? Some ordinary thing, so the common people and the middle classes will know that our country is changing?” …”Something more subtle. Something that looks like a message, that can be put in places where officials won’t notice it.” “Something to shake the regents up,” murmured Aly. “If the regents are shaken up,” Fesgao pointed out, “they will not take it kindly, I warn you.” “No, I suppose not,” Dove acknowledged. “But they’re already behaving stupidly….” … “A symbol,” Dove told them. “Scratched into plaster, written on a proclamation that’s been nailed up, dug in the dirt, painted on a door or a shutter. Something easy-”

“An open shackle with a few links of chain attached,” suggested Chenaol eagerly. “For freedom.”

[…]

…Aly stumbled and nearly tripped when they passed through Nimegan Square. Someone had made changes to its fountain, one of the city’s attractions for its carvings of climbing monkeys on stone trees. Cut into the white marble a foot apart, the open shackle symbol lined the rim all the way around. 

[…]

“…Make sure everyone tells a different tale- if it’s always the same one-” “They’ll know it’s planted,” Atisa recited. It was a lesson Aly had taught often over the winter. “Do you want me to pass it to the rest of our pack?” Aly shook her head. “They’ll get their own rumors. We’ll ensure the regents and Topabaw have plenty to worry about here at home as well as in the outlying Isles.” “Will talk really bother them?” Atisa asked quietly, her black eyes serious. Aly patted her on the cheek. “It’s hard to ignore talk that’s just talk,” she said, and smiled. “It’s funny, though, how gossip can burrow under the skin. You can’t make it go away, and you can’t answer it. The target goes frantic, trying to find where it comes from.” “And frantic people make mistakes,” Atisa replied, once again quoting Aly. 

[…]

…As they wandered down a line of stalls, Aly noticed a thing or two: someone had carved the open shackle symbol into a doorpost….

[…]

…At some point during the afternoon, talking in strictest confidence with their new friends, all of them would pass on some bit of gossip that would sit ill with those who collected it for the palace. The rest of Aly’s pack, and more of the people they had recruited, were out performing the same service. Little of it would go straight to Topabaw or to Rubinyan’s spymaster. People who worried about the stability of the government chattered constantly, the threads of gossip twisting as they passed from one person to the next. By the time they reached those who were most interested in holding power, the strands would be so tangled that no one would be able to trace them back to a handful of sources.  Gossip was the realm’s lifeblood, Aly’s da had told her repeatedly. She intended to make this realm bleed with it. 

[…]

Something caught her eye. In the lowest right-hand pane in the corner [of the window], someone had scratched a design…. The emblem of the open shackle was cut into the window. More importantly, it had been done from inside. Someone working in the shop, perhaps [the owner] himself, supported the rebellion.

[…]

…Aly observed that one seller of garlic, leeks, and onions had hung a decoration at the corner of her booth. Four bulbs were braided together, connected to a broken circle of leeks tied to a wooden frame. It was a very subtle open shackle.

[…]

Passing a basketmaker’s booth on their way out of Market Town, Aly saw an ornament displayed on the edge of the awning. Palm fronds were woven into the shackle-and-chain design. They want to join, Aly thought, awed. Not just the raka. The merchant luarin. They want to rid themselves of the Rittevons. But will they fight? ”Trick,” she murmured, so quietly that only [it] might hear, “what has Peony to report from Grosbeak? Anything?” …”Peony says woman called Lutestring come from palace for daily report from Grosbeak. She takes papers and what Grosbeak says. Grosbeak tells her mysterious new sign of four circles then broken circle appears in more places every day. He say half reports he gets say [the spymaster] is turning against the regents. He say other half say regents want to replace [the spymaster]. Grosbeak is shaking. Grosbeak does not tell Lutestring that he is taking all of his money out of money-changer accounts and packing a bag if he must run. He already send wife and children into country today.”

[…]

…More than anyone else, he kept glancing at the regents, his jaw muscles clenched. Topabaw was nervous, And he was nervous about his masters. 

[…]

…The shakier the regents looked, the more eager people would be to do things they would not dare if the Crown appeared strong. There was the personal gossip-…-and the more ominous news about what really happened at the fortresses. Rubinyan’s personal spymaster, Sevmire, had told him, … that more than three hundred and twenty men had died at the fortresses, burned or poisoned. Rubinyan had ordered him to keep that number to himself. If Rubinyan heard that people knew the correct number of the dead, he might think Sevmire or his subordinates had been indiscreet. It could also be that by the time Rubinyan’s spies heard the city gossip, the number of dead soldiers would be vast, amplified by gossip as it passed from one person to the next.

[…]

Ulasim bowed. “Your Grace, my ladies, I…” He paused for a moment, so oddly for him that the ladies looked worried. Ulasim was the ideal manservant and never fumbled. “It’s Topabaw,” he said at last. “He’s-They made an Example of him. By the harbor mouth.” Nuritin jerked, dumping a bottle of ink on her desk and herself. As the maids rushed to stop the ink’s spread and to save the old woman’s dress, the duchess stared at him. “Ulasim, this is a very poor joke,” she whispered. He looked at her not as a servant looked at his mistress but as one human being looked at another. “Your Grace, I did not believe it either. I have just come from the harbor. I have seen it with my own eyes. Topabaw is dead. …There is no proclamation of his crime, but the royal seal was placed on his chest. Burned into it, actually.” […] “Whoever takes up his post won’t know everything he did.” Dove looked at her mother, then her great-aunt. “They won’t know his files. They won’t know his agents. And his agents won’t be sure if they aren’t next, or if the new man isn’t there to simply hand out more blame. His networks will be all chaos for a while.”

[…]

…She was about to look somewhere else when a detail caught her attention. An anonymous carver had made an addition to the statue’s belt line. A deep-cut open shackle shone brightly around the weathered bronze of the statue’s waist, above the dip of the sword belt.

[…]

They neared the intersection and checkpoint at Rittevon Square. The great bronze statue of the first Rittevon king was now covered with open shackle insignia, each showing gold through his weathered bronze skin and clothes. 

Trickster’s Queen, page 15, 45-46, 97, 107, 113, 122, 146, 173, 175, 216, 233, 236, 237, 303, 393, by T. Pierce