We are a feelingless people. If we could really feel, the pain would be so great that we would stop all the suffering. If we could feel that one person every six seconds dies of starvation (and as this is happening, this writing, this reading, someone is dying of starvation) we would stop it. If we could really feel it in the bowels, the groin, in the throat, in the breast, we would go into the streets and stop the war, stop slavery, stop the prisons, stop the killings, stop destruction. Ah, I might learn what love is.
When we feel, we will feel the emergency: when we feel the emergency, we will act: when we act, we will change the world.”
Alice is Dead is another online horror game, I’d recommend to play.
“You’ve arrived in Wonderland, that’s good. Alice is dead, that’s bad. You don’t know who you are, that’s the worst.
Do you have what it takes to get out of Wonderland, and more importantly, figure out who you are?
This is a really good game. I’ve played all of them, and the puzzles can be a bit tricky.
“76% of negative feedback given to women included personality criticism. For men, 2%. The study speaks to the impossible tightrope women must walk to do their jobs competently and to make tough decisions while simultaneously coming across as nice to everyone, all the time.”
I have been saying this for SO LONG.
People criticize female teachers because they don’t like their tone. They get called “fake” if they try to come off as nice and “bitchy” if they don’t go out of their way to cater to everyone’s feelings. Male teachers, on the other hand, get criticized on the quality of their teaching. I’ve noticed this in every single class I have had since middle school. It’s really depressing.(via porcelain-horse-horselain)
After this interview where the man behind GamerGate admits he doesn’t even care about video games and says he wishes people weren’t harassing women over their opposition to the movement he spawned, someone suggested he stop harassing his ex and just abide by her restraining order. He was less than amenable. What a creep.
My femininity is weaponised. It is soft, but sharp. I have embraced it fully, because to do otherwise would be doing myself a disservice. When I dress and look the way I do, it is specific and full of thought. It says I decide the terms on which you may approach me. It gives me the upper hand in a way that I as a woman in public am so rarely afforded. The current social climate we live in fascinates me because it simultaneously encourages and discourages braise and femininity. Women who choose not to engage in traditionally feminine acts such as hair removal, makeup and certain styles of clothing are punished for it in micro-aggressive ways. The odds are stacked against them from making friends to landing jobs. Women who choose not to or can’t have children are seen as selfish. Women who don’t marry or marry non male-indentifying individuals are seen as confused. And in the same way, on the other end of the spectrum, women who feel best suited to traditionally feminine roles such as ‘stay at home mom’ or ‘caretakers’ are looked down upon by certain feminist schools of thought as to have ‘bought in’. The shaving of legs; the application of body shapers and heels to create a specific look; the art of makeup and hair is seen as frivolous and vain by all genders. So; we’re constantly fighting to find that safe balance – pretty but not too pretty; not so pretty as to look like we tried. Smart, but not too smart; not so smart as to intimidate others. Strong, but not so strong as to appear to need no companionship. Fashion is important and specifically womens’ fashion. When I see other people in untraditional garb, I can’t help but smile at them. Through their actions, they create a little more room - room for me, room for others to feel free to express themselves with more freedom and safety; and I hope that what I do can make space for others to have a little more room too. Someone once told me that revolution comes from the inside, and I didn’t want to believe them but I think it’s true. After all, all it took was the prick of a needle on a spinning wheel - a traditional symbol of feminine labour and creativity - to put a whole kingdom to sleep.
- The League of Extraordinary Ladies
I hate when people mention someone in their life by their name without providing me with any context about who this person is.
“So Dylan and I went to yoga class yesterday — ”
Hold it right there. Who the fuck is Dylan. Your boyfriend? Your arch nemesis? Your brother? Your pet sea monkey? Your therapist? Your favourite fictional character? Are you on a first-name basis with your dad? Last-name basis with Bob? WHO THE FUCK IS DYLAN.