"There will come a time when all of us are dead. All of us. There will come a time when there are no human beings remaining to remember that anyone ever existed or that our species ever did anything. There will be no one left to remember Aristotle or Cleopatra, let alone you. Everything that we did and built and wrote and thought and discovered will be forgotten and all of this will have been for naught. Maybe that time is coming soon and maybe it is millions of years away, but even if we survive the collapse of our sun, we will not survive forever. There was time before organisms experienced consciousness, and there will be time after. And if the inevitability of human oblivion worries you, I encourage you to ignore it. God knows that’s what everyone else does. " -John Green, The Fault in Our Stars#sociological imagination (personal <->political) -> also: #the sociological imagination #racism #feminism #gender studies #poems #poetry #quotes #veganism #animal rights #general bigotry #rape related(always tagged for tw) #rape culture #assimilation #TV #movies #books #funny #beautiful #confessions #thoughts #personal #music #animals #gifs #LGBT #lgbtq #social justice #body love #representation
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My mom and I went on a cooking extravaganza tonight. 4 hours and okra, loukamadas, hortopita, vegan omelette, and black eyed peas.
|Chandler Muriel Bing was born on April 8, 1968, to an erotic novelist mother and a Las Vegas drag star father and is of Scottish ancestry. He is the only one of the “Friends” to be an only child, and is apparently from an affluent family, as he mentions his family hired servants such as a pool boy and a house boy (both of whom he suspects slept with his father); and Phoebe scornfully remarks in one episode, “Did the little rich boy have a problem with the butler?” Chandler’s parents announced their divorce to him over Thanksgiving dinner when he was nine years old, an event which causes him to refuse to celebrate the holiday in his adulthood. It’s revealed in The One Without The Ski Trip that Chandler had started smoking at the age of 9 because of their divorce.||Chandler Bing -Wiki|
Monica: Having a heart attack is nature’s way of telling you to slow it down.
|Friends 6x15, The One That Could Have Been|
It really is frustrating to have the weight of culture against you. Having been vegetarian for 23 years and vegan for 14 years, I’m an “extremist”. That I’d 3 major chronic health problems by the age of 15 which have probably been kept to some extent in check by diet, several years BEFORE going veggie doesn’t stop the comments that I’d feel better if I ate some meat.
|Comment section- Nutrition Facts: The Tomato Effect|
Go vegan and stay vegan or shut your god damn mouth about animal rights
Um no. Wanting to help AT ALL should be encouraged, ALWAYS. There is too little activism in the world, don’t squash it because you are a self-righteous little brat. You can eat meat and…
I don’t understand how this is such a huge point of debate that vegans have to keep reiterating it. If you WILLINGLY and PURPOSELY contribute to the (ab)use and exploitation of non-human animals, KNOWING that the animals are suffering, it makes no sense that you would campaign to end the suffering you willfully CONTRIBUTE to. You cannot be on both sides at the same time, or that is to say you can, but when veg*ns- who are one of the main voices of anti-animal exploitation- point out your activism is poor as hell, you might listen.
|I had one little boy who had trouble with writing and basic letter sounds and soon fell behind. He knew he was already being labeled as “dumb” by some of the boys, so he tried unsuccessfully to fit in by doing some of the competitive things he saw them doing, like turning his work in first. When he realized that racing to finish first had no value unless he also did his work correctly, he became even more agitated and looked for a different way to gain status.
He began to call the girls names with the hope that this would somehow give him status with other boys. This backfired, too, for when the smarter boys he so longed to associate with distanced him even more as a result of his behavior, he was again desperate to find a way to fit in somehow.
His next tactic was to turn against the smarter boys who had shunned him and get some of the other struggling boys to call them “gay.” This really hit the mark. He was especially vociferous about these labels on the playground, where kids from other grades might hear him, and this began to give him the status he wanted. The “smarter” boys in his class did not like this, and some of them even began to act out themselves.
When I talked to Raphael about his behavior, I can remember him asking me emphatically, “Don’t you know it’s not cool to act like a girl?”
Seriously? Seriously?! This is outrageous!
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“Multinational corporations are scheming for new rights to sue governments — in clandestine, foreign tribunals — demanding taxpayer compensation for profits they allegedly lose over health and safety, environmental, financial and worker protections we all rely on.”
How can this be real?
Healthier foods are generally more expensive than unhealthful foods, particularly in food deserts. For instance, while the overall price of fruits and vegetables in the US increased by nearly 75 percent between 1989 and 2005, the price of fatty foods dropped by more than 26 percent during the same period. While such inflation has strained the food budgets of many families regardless of their financial status, the higher cost of healthy foods often puts them entirely beyond the monetary means of many lower-income people.
|Food Empowerment Project: Food Deserts (x)|
|A spider lives inside my head
Who weaves a strange and wondrous web
Of silken threads and silver strings
To catch all sorts of flying things,
Like crumbs of thoughts and bits of smiles
And specks of dried-up tears,
And dust of dreams that catch and cling
For years and years and years…
|Shel Silverstein, Every Thing on It|
So anyway, I was having this argument with my father about Martin Luther King and how his message was too conservative compared to Malcolm X’s message. My father got really angry at me. It wasn’t that he disliked Malcolm X, but his point was that Malcolm X hadn’t accomplished anything as Dr. King had.
I was kind of sarcastic and asked something like, so what did Martin Luther King accomplish other than giving his “I have a dream speech.”
Before I tell you what my father told me, I want to digress. Because at this point in our amnesiac national existence, my question pretty much reflects the national civic religion view of what Dr. King accomplished. He gave this great speech. Or some people say, “he marched.” I was so angry at Mrs. Clinton during the primaries when she said that Dr. King marched, but it was LBJ who delivered the Civil Rights Act.
At this point, I would like to remind everyone exactly what Martin Luther King did, and it wasn’t that he “marched” or gave a great speech.
My father told me with a sort of cold fury, “Dr. King ended the terror of living in the south.”
Please let this sink in and and take my word and the word of my late father on this. If you are a white person who has always lived in the U.S. and never under a brutal dictatorship, you probably don’t know what my father was talking about.
But this is what the great Dr. Martin Luther King accomplished. Not that he marched, nor that he gave speeches.
He ended the terror of living as a black person, especially in the south.
I’m guessing that most of you, especially those having come fresh from seeing The Help, may not understand what this was all about. But living in the south (and in parts of the midwest and in many ghettos of the north) was living under terrorism.
It wasn’t that black people had to use a separate drinking fountain or couldn’t sit at lunch counters, or had to sit in the back of the bus.
You really must disabuse yourself of this idea. Lunch counters and buses were crucial symbolic planes of struggle that the civil rights movement used to dramatize the issue, but the main suffering in the south did not come from our inability to drink from the same fountain, ride in the front of the bus or eat lunch at Woolworth’s.
It was that white people, mostly white men, occasionally went berserk, and grabbed random black people, usually men, and lynched them. You all know about lynching. But you may forget or not know that white people also randomly beat black people, and the black people could not fight back, for fear of even worse punishment.
This constant low level dread of atavistic violence is what kept the system running. It made life miserable, stressful and terrifying for black people.
White people also occasionally tried black people, especially black men, for crimes for which they could not conceivably be guilty. With the willing participation of white women, they often accused black men of “assault,” which could be anything from rape to not taking off one’s hat, to “reckless eyeballing.”
This is going to sound awful and perhaps a stain on my late father’s memory, but when I was little, before the civil rights movement, my father taught me many, many humiliating practices in order to prevent the random, terroristic, berserk behavior of white people. The one I remember most is that when walking down the street in New York City side by side, hand in hand with my hero-father, if a white woman approached on the same sidewalk, I was to take off my hat and walk behind my father, because he had been taught in the south that black males for some reason were supposed to walk single file in the presence of any white lady.
This was just one of many humiliating practices we were taught to prevent white people from going berserk.
I remember a huge family reunion one August with my aunts and uncles and cousins gathered around my grandparents’ vast breakfast table laden with food from the farm, and the state troopers drove up to the house with a car full of rifles and shotguns, and everyone went kind of weirdly blank. They put on the masks that black people used back then to not provoke white berserkness. My strong, valiant, self-educated, articulate uncles, whom I adored, became shuffling, Step-N-Fetchits to avoid provoking the white men. Fortunately the troopers were only looking for an escaped convict. Afterward, the women, my aunts, were furious at the humiliating performance of the men, and said so, something that even a child could understand.
This is the climate of fear that Dr. King ended.
If you didn’t get taught such things, let alone experience them, I caution you against invoking the memory of Dr. King as though he belongs exclusively to you and not primarily to African Americans.
The question is, how did Dr. King do this—and of course, he didn’t do it alone.
(Of all the other civil rights leaders who helped Dr. King end this reign of terror, I think the most under appreciated is James Farmer, who founded the Congress of Racial Equality and was a leader of nonviolent resistance, and taught the practices of nonviolent resistance.)
So what did they do?
They told us: Whatever you are most afraid of doing vis-a-vis white people, go do it. Go ahead down to city hall and try to register to vote, even if they say no, even if they take your name down.
Go ahead sit at that lunch counter. Sue the local school board. All things that most black people would have said back then, without exaggeration, were stark raving insane and would get you killed.
If we do it all together, we’ll be okay.
They made black people experience the worst of the worst, collectively, that white people could dish out, and discover that it wasn’t that bad. They taught black people how to take a beating—from the southern cops, from police dogs, from fire department hoses. They actually coached young people how to crouch, cover their heads with their arms and take the beating. They taught people how to go to jail, which terrified most decent people.
And you know what? The worst of the worst, wasn’t that bad.
Once people had been beaten, had dogs sicced on them, had fire hoses sprayed on them, and been thrown in jail, you know what happened?
These magnificent young black people began singing freedom songs in jail.
That, my friends, is what ended the terrorism of the south. Confronting your worst fears, living through it, and breaking out in a deep throated freedom song. The jailers knew they had lost when they beat the crap out of these young Negroes and the jailed, beaten young people began to sing joyously, first in one town then in another. This is what the writer, James Baldwin, captured like no other writer of the era.
Please let this sink in. It wasn’t marches or speeches. It was taking a severe beating, surviving and realizing that our fears were mostly illusory and that we were free.
|Daily Kos :: Most of you have no idea what Martin Luther King actually did (via guerrillamamamedicine)
Watching the scenes between Freya and Killian are just too fucking much I can’t I can’t. Have to keep pausing it.