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ayellowbirds: bead-bead: geekwithsandwich: kakaphoe: willowwish64: babyanimalgifs: The Black Footed cat is the smallest wild cat in Africa and one of the smallest wild cats in the world. Here’s an adult kitty for size comparison: too smoll OK but you can’t mention my all-time favorite cat without also mentioning that these little motherfuckers are legendary for being 1000% ready to throw down with anyone at any time, they’ve literally been seen trying to fight a giraffe and are known to successfully bring down sheep by getting underneath them and ripping their bellies open like what the fuck, chill Their name in Afrikaans means “anthill tiger” because they’ll hide inside a hollowed out anthill and then jump out and try to rip your face off They are perfect and I love them Aw, look at these little murder muffins. smallest and deadliest wild cat. Observed at a 60% success rate in hunting, and averaging a kill every fifty minutes—a lion might succeed in hunting twenty, twenty-five percent of the time. Their small, energetic bodies require a rate of a-murder-per-hour in order to sustain their metabolisms. (“miershoop” can also mean “termite mound”, which is one of their preferred places to sleep) : ayellowbirds: bead-bead: geekwithsandwich: kakaphoe: willowwish64: babyanimalgifs: The Black Footed cat is the smallest wild cat in Africa and one of the smallest wild cats in the world. Here’s an adult kitty for size comparison: too smoll OK but you can’t mention my all-time favorite cat without also mentioning that these little motherfuckers are legendary for being 1000% ready to throw down with anyone at any time, they’ve literally been seen trying to fight a giraffe and are known to successfully bring down sheep by getting underneath them and ripping their bellies open like what the fuck, chill Their name in Afrikaans means “anthill tiger” because they’ll hide inside a hollowed out anthill and then jump out and try to rip your face off They are perfect and I love them Aw, look at these little murder muffins. smallest and deadliest wild cat. Observed at a 60% success rate in hunting, and averaging a kill every fifty minutes—a lion might succeed in hunting twenty, twenty-five percent of the time. Their small, energetic bodies require a rate of a-murder-per-hour in order to sustain their metabolisms. (“miershoop” can also mean “termite mound”, which is one of their preferred places to sleep)
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ayellowbirds: bead-bead: geekwithsandwich: kakaphoe: willowwish64: babyanimalgifs: The Black Footed cat is the smallest wild cat in Africa and one of the smallest wild cats in the world. Here’s an adult kitty for size comparison: too smoll OK but you can’t mention my all-time favorite cat without also mentioning that these little motherfuckers are legendary for being 1000% ready to throw down with anyone at any time, they’ve literally been seen trying to fight a giraffe and are known to successfully bring down sheep by getting underneath them and ripping their bellies open like what the fuck, chill Their name in Afrikaans means “anthill tiger” because they’ll hide inside a hollowed out anthill and then jump out and try to rip your face off They are perfect and I love them Aw, look at these little murder muffins. smallest and deadliest wild cat. Observed at a 60% success rate in hunting, and averaging a kill every fifty minutes—a lion might succeed in hunting twenty, twenty-five percent of the time. Their small, energetic bodies require a rate of a-murder-per-hour in order to sustain their metabolisms.(“miershoop” can also mean “termite mound”, which is one of their preferred places to sleep) Smol handsome murderbaby : ayellowbirds: bead-bead: geekwithsandwich: kakaphoe: willowwish64: babyanimalgifs: The Black Footed cat is the smallest wild cat in Africa and one of the smallest wild cats in the world. Here’s an adult kitty for size comparison: too smoll OK but you can’t mention my all-time favorite cat without also mentioning that these little motherfuckers are legendary for being 1000% ready to throw down with anyone at any time, they’ve literally been seen trying to fight a giraffe and are known to successfully bring down sheep by getting underneath them and ripping their bellies open like what the fuck, chill Their name in Afrikaans means “anthill tiger” because they’ll hide inside a hollowed out anthill and then jump out and try to rip your face off They are perfect and I love them Aw, look at these little murder muffins. smallest and deadliest wild cat. Observed at a 60% success rate in hunting, and averaging a kill every fifty minutes—a lion might succeed in hunting twenty, twenty-five percent of the time. Their small, energetic bodies require a rate of a-murder-per-hour in order to sustain their metabolisms.(“miershoop” can also mean “termite mound”, which is one of their preferred places to sleep) Smol handsome murderbaby
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marzipanandminutiae: greysonderulo: dragonsspire: knight-nick: If you think like that, please don’t ever have children. Listen, my parents installed a lock on my door so I could lock everyone out of my room if I wanted to at sometime around 8 years old. They had a key of course for safety but they’ve never had to use it and they’ve never used it when they didn’t have to. I was allowed full access to any books, movies, and internet I wanted fully informed about our family beliefs and practices but I was given no supervision once I reached about 13 because my parents trusted me to stick to the rules or not as I felt and come to them if there was anything that I had questions about. As long as I said where I was going, who I was with, and when I was going to be back and then phone if anything changed I was allowed to do pretty much as I pleased from 13 onward. I moved back in with my parents after university and the first conversation we had was my dad telling me that if I felt like they were treating me like a child to please tell them because they had no intention of doing so. I still live with them and I’m comfortable here as an adult. When I eventually move out again, which I feel no rush to do because I feel respected and given more than enough elbow room, I will probably talk to them often if not everyday. Because they’ve always respected my privacy and my autonomy both physically and emotionally. If you want an independent and fictional child trusting them and giving them their space will do you many more favours than not. meanwhile, my parents… password protected my computer so i had to get permission every time i wanted to use it put a passcode lock on our pantry so we couldn’t eat without permission regularly checked our internet browsing history shut off the internet at regular intervals, including when i needed it for university homework did monthly checks of our bank statements and would confiscate money if they didn’t approve of our activities in response, i went behind their backs and opened a new bank account, got a secret job, bought my own groceries, and used the wifi from the school across the street. they didn’t succeed in disciplining me. all they did was force me to distance myself from them. your children are not your property. they are human beings, and they deserve basic human rights. nothing in this world teaches you to lie and sneak around like a parent who doesn’t believe you should have privacy: Agent of Chaos @TheTrillAC 1d My children will get "privacy" from me when they can pay their own bills and feed themselves. Until then, you do what I say Ain't shit negotiable. We not friends. t 394 687 1,171 Mermaid Hofessional @StarStuffSister Replying to @TheTrillAC I haven't spoken to my mother in ten years. Welcome to your future. 20:29 06 Nov 19 Twitter for Android marzipanandminutiae: greysonderulo: dragonsspire: knight-nick: If you think like that, please don’t ever have children. Listen, my parents installed a lock on my door so I could lock everyone out of my room if I wanted to at sometime around 8 years old. They had a key of course for safety but they’ve never had to use it and they’ve never used it when they didn’t have to. I was allowed full access to any books, movies, and internet I wanted fully informed about our family beliefs and practices but I was given no supervision once I reached about 13 because my parents trusted me to stick to the rules or not as I felt and come to them if there was anything that I had questions about. As long as I said where I was going, who I was with, and when I was going to be back and then phone if anything changed I was allowed to do pretty much as I pleased from 13 onward. I moved back in with my parents after university and the first conversation we had was my dad telling me that if I felt like they were treating me like a child to please tell them because they had no intention of doing so. I still live with them and I’m comfortable here as an adult. When I eventually move out again, which I feel no rush to do because I feel respected and given more than enough elbow room, I will probably talk to them often if not everyday. Because they’ve always respected my privacy and my autonomy both physically and emotionally. If you want an independent and fictional child trusting them and giving them their space will do you many more favours than not. meanwhile, my parents… password protected my computer so i had to get permission every time i wanted to use it put a passcode lock on our pantry so we couldn’t eat without permission regularly checked our internet browsing history shut off the internet at regular intervals, including when i needed it for university homework did monthly checks of our bank statements and would confiscate money if they didn’t approve of our activities in response, i went behind their backs and opened a new bank account, got a secret job, bought my own groceries, and used the wifi from the school across the street. they didn’t succeed in disciplining me. all they did was force me to distance myself from them. your children are not your property. they are human beings, and they deserve basic human rights. nothing in this world teaches you to lie and sneak around like a parent who doesn’t believe you should have privacy
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greysonderulo: dragonsspire: knight-nick: If you think like that, please don’t ever have children. Listen, my parents installed a lock on my door so I could lock everyone out of my room if I wanted to at sometime around 8 years old. They had a key of course for safety but they’ve never had to use it and they’ve never used it when they didn’t have to. I was allowed full access to any books, movies, and internet I wanted fully informed about our family beliefs and practices but I was given no supervision once I reached about 13 because my parents trusted me to stick to the rules or not as I felt and come to them if there was anything that I had questions about. As long as I said where I was going, who I was with, and when I was going to be back and then phone if anything changed I was allowed to do pretty much as I pleased from 13 onward. I moved back in with my parents after university and the first conversation we had was my dad telling me that if I felt like they were treating me like a child to please tell them because they had no intention of doing so. I still live with them and I’m comfortable here as an adult. When I eventually move out again, which I feel no rush to do because I feel respected and given more than enough elbow room, I will probably talk to them often if not everyday. Because they’ve always respected my privacy and my autonomy both physically and emotionally. If you want an independent and fictional child trusting them and giving them their space will do you many more favours than not. meanwhile, my parents… password protected my computer so i had to get permission every time i wanted to use it put a passcode lock on our pantry so we couldn’t eat without permission regularly checked our internet browsing history shut off the internet at regular intervals, including when i needed it for university homework did monthly checks of our bank statements and would confiscate money if they didn’t approve of our activities in response, i went behind their backs and opened a new bank account, got a secret job, bought my own groceries, and used the wifi from the school across the street. they didn’t succeed in disciplining me. all they did was force me to distance myself from them. your children are not your property. they are human beings, and they deserve basic human rights. : Agent of Chaos @TheTrillAC 1d My children will get "privacy" from me when they can pay their own bills and feed themselves. Until then, you do what I say Ain't shit negotiable. We not friends. t 394 687 1,171 Mermaid Hofessional @StarStuffSister Replying to @TheTrillAC I haven't spoken to my mother in ten years. Welcome to your future. 20:29 06 Nov 19 Twitter for Android greysonderulo: dragonsspire: knight-nick: If you think like that, please don’t ever have children. Listen, my parents installed a lock on my door so I could lock everyone out of my room if I wanted to at sometime around 8 years old. They had a key of course for safety but they’ve never had to use it and they’ve never used it when they didn’t have to. I was allowed full access to any books, movies, and internet I wanted fully informed about our family beliefs and practices but I was given no supervision once I reached about 13 because my parents trusted me to stick to the rules or not as I felt and come to them if there was anything that I had questions about. As long as I said where I was going, who I was with, and when I was going to be back and then phone if anything changed I was allowed to do pretty much as I pleased from 13 onward. I moved back in with my parents after university and the first conversation we had was my dad telling me that if I felt like they were treating me like a child to please tell them because they had no intention of doing so. I still live with them and I’m comfortable here as an adult. When I eventually move out again, which I feel no rush to do because I feel respected and given more than enough elbow room, I will probably talk to them often if not everyday. Because they’ve always respected my privacy and my autonomy both physically and emotionally. If you want an independent and fictional child trusting them and giving them their space will do you many more favours than not. meanwhile, my parents… password protected my computer so i had to get permission every time i wanted to use it put a passcode lock on our pantry so we couldn’t eat without permission regularly checked our internet browsing history shut off the internet at regular intervals, including when i needed it for university homework did monthly checks of our bank statements and would confiscate money if they didn’t approve of our activities in response, i went behind their backs and opened a new bank account, got a secret job, bought my own groceries, and used the wifi from the school across the street. they didn’t succeed in disciplining me. all they did was force me to distance myself from them. your children are not your property. they are human beings, and they deserve basic human rights.
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valquainton: ms-demeanor: ms-demeanor: the-barista-who-became-a-rabbit: meganphntmgrl: panic-boy-21: blckrapunzel: laughingacademy: interficio-vos: thatpettyblackgirl: The White Wash is real. One of the Earliest Memorial Day Ceremonies Was Held by Freed Slaves The Statue of Liberty was created to celebrate freed slaves, not immigrants, its new museum recounts Just wait until you google what the original Statue of Liberty(that got refused by America)looked like For those of you who don’t want to look it up yourselves: Lady Liberty is a black woman. Guys, this has been thoroughly debunked since 2000, and it does the statue on the left there a huge disservice to treat her as an unwanted copy. That’s Lady Liberty of St. Maarten, an homage from 2007 (post-dating the debunking, even) that was dedicated to the anniversary of the ending of slavery there: The Statue of Liberty in New York Harbor is a representation of Libertas, the Roman goddess of freedom, with bonus American iconography: HOWEVER: Lady Liberty in New York is not based on a white woman, either.  She’s a Muslim Arab woman, at least in terms of the modeling of her face. Her face was reused from an abandoned project to build a colossal statue of a modern Egyptian Arab peasant woman near the Suez Canal (as verified by the Smithsonian, no less). While she wasn’t originally dedicated specifically for immigrants, the poem “The New Colossus” was added specifically because of the position she occupied in the harbor and the symbolic visual power she would have to immigrants coming in. The author, Emma Lazarus, was Jewish. It’s important to fight back on the whitewashing of history, because it happens left and right, but it shouldn’t happen at the cost of misinformation that treats Lady Liberty of St. Maarten as an unwanted prototype rather than a powerful monument in her own right and, ironically, claims that she’s now a white woman when she’s not while also ignoring the powerful influence of the Jewish-American community on the final version. Geez, I’m really tired of people trying to spout false shit all over tumblr. Like, this post has 37K notes, But I assure you, that like many other false posts, ¾ of the notes are from people who saw the false bit and prefered to reblog it that way and be mad, instead of just making a simple google search Hi Darling Friends of Tumblr. I’ve been taking too long to do data entry and I’m not good at actually doing analysis so it’s time to start naming and shaming. @thatpettyblackgirl is a blog that I’ve been observing for a while that has a really interesting pattern of behavior. Namely, posting a bunch of shit like this. Remember that tweet about Olive Garden supporting Donald Trump that was debunked? Well when it circulated on tumblr two weeks ago it was because of @thatpettyblackgirl You know the misreported post about the school lunch program that refused donations from a local businessman? That was a different blogger but thatpettyblackgirl has circulated another version of it. That other blogger has a posting history that’s full of the same kinds of things thatpettyblackgirl posts - lots of reposts from twitter, lots of screenshots from other sites, not a lot of commentary, and things that are decontextualized enough to make them seem worse than they are or to totally misrepresent the actions depicted (like this reposted video and tweets indignant about a man being arrested when the very specific purpose of his protest was to get arrested). It reminds me of that post about coconut husks as a wood alternative that’s been circulating recently - a screenshot of a white man above a news article is posted with the complaint that white people “discovering” coconuts after disregarding them as useless when the article is about a new method of processing coconut husks that allows them to be put to new uses. That blog is fascinating. And has a lot in common with thatpettyblackgirl - both of them reblog their own posts at a rate that’s higher than I’ve seen on most tumblrs (btw, you should know that a while back I asked for volunteers who would let me explore their tumblrs and while my research sample isn’t random it is a collection of small and large blogs and none of them have *checks notes* reblogged their own post of a bunch of screencaps of a tweet storm five times in the last couple of days). Both of them tend to post screencaps, neither one really writes much. They reblog a lot of memes, and both have some pretty big textposts that are just straight rip-offs of tweets (”bi folks have you eaten today? answer quick and iced coffee doesn’t count” is one of thatpettyblackgirl’s recent popular textposts and it’s ripped off from twitter.) They also reblog eachother a fair amount - along with @whyyoustabbedme and @endangered-justice-seeker, who ALSO have really weird posting patterns. Also all four of those blogs are part of a group of nine blogs that were created in a three-week period of 2017 that I’ve been watching that don’t seem to follow a pattern of normal tumblr behavior and that also post an awful lot of incorrect viral posts and are staggeringly popular (for clarity: blackqueerblog is not one of the nine created in that time period). ANYWAY this is all reminding me very strongly of bellygangstaboo and lagonegirl. I know I probably sound like this image: But there are excellent, thoughtful bloggers who discuss police brutality, racism in the US, class warefare, and institutional bias who aren’t ALSO unflaggingly committed to having their own dedicated Snopes pages. @odinsblog, Franchesca Ramsey, @antifainternational, and @mostlysignssomeportents might be a good place to start. My dudes, I don’t want to be depressing so I’ll let Vanity Fair do it for me: That Russian operatives could so effectively engage Americans with tactics as simple as Facebook ads, fake-news postings, and Twitter trolls, shows how dangerous misinformation is in the social-media age, when propaganda can be so easily amplified. More important, it highlights how primed Americans already were for manipulation. When the ICE raids started up again a few months ago thatpettyblackgirl was posting about how shameful it was that there was nothing that could be done. A lot of these blogs are writing about how it’s impossible for black people to succeed in America, they’re writing about how voting is always rigged and you can’t fight the system. And you know what that goes against every fucking principle of my cold little anarchist heart. These blogs are full of despair - they look like they’re full of cute memes and fresh news but they’re a poisoned pill telling you not to bother because you can’t fight the system. They’re not offering help, they’re training you not to bother fighting for your rights (there was a popular post about how the Hong Kong protesters are light years ahead of US protesters - that post didn’t talk about mutual aid or sharing tactics, it just said “people in the US would never” and left it at that, like we can’t learn from each other and share information across borders) Fucking. Anyway. I’ve been fairly quiet about this because I’ve been trying to be all good and data sciencey about it but I’ve seen this post on my dash fifty times this week. Keep your eye out for @thatpettyblackgirl  @uncommonbish @whyyoustabbedme and @blackqueerblog - all of them have large followings and are known to post tweets and news articles out of context and if you’re considering reblogging information from one of their blogs please make a point to fact-check the post yourself. Not everything they post is wrong. I don’t know if these are real bloggers who don’t care about the potential negative impact of their tweet thievery or if they’re weird psyops blogs that are intended to make you feel hopeless about your place in the political process. Whatever they are it doesn’t matter when they continually post misinformation and don’t seem to care about stopping so please be cautious. Anyway, I’m cataloguing these sorts of posts at @psyops-redux so if you want to keep an eye out for stuff that’s debunked I’ll tag by originating blogger over there. Stay safe, buds. Dammit, I got all fired up and I forgot to add: THERE’S A GAME THAT HELPS YOU RECOGNIZE WHEN PEOPLE ARE POSTING MISINFORMATION AND MAKES YOU LESS SUSCEPTIBLE TO THIS KIND OF PROPAGANDA AND YOU SHOULD ALL GO PLAY IT. Ah. The number reposts from their own blogs had puzzled me in the past. I assumed it was something to do with the way Tumblr runs that I wasn’t tech-savvy enough to understand. But this makes a lot of sense. Unless someone tells me otherwise, I’m gonna go ahead and unfollow the blogs listed. Any recommendations for actual historical/current affairs poc blogs to follow instead? : Mira Jacob @mirajacob Two things I didn't know until I was yesterday years old: 1) Memorial Day was started by African Americans honoring fallen Union solders 2) The Statue of Liberty was gifted to America to celebrate freed slaves, not immigrants. Erasure is real, you all. But that part we knew. 7:28 AM May 27, 2019 Twitter for iPhone 37.2K Likes 12.2K Retweets valquainton: ms-demeanor: ms-demeanor: the-barista-who-became-a-rabbit: meganphntmgrl: panic-boy-21: blckrapunzel: laughingacademy: interficio-vos: thatpettyblackgirl: The White Wash is real. One of the Earliest Memorial Day Ceremonies Was Held by Freed Slaves The Statue of Liberty was created to celebrate freed slaves, not immigrants, its new museum recounts Just wait until you google what the original Statue of Liberty(that got refused by America)looked like For those of you who don’t want to look it up yourselves: Lady Liberty is a black woman. Guys, this has been thoroughly debunked since 2000, and it does the statue on the left there a huge disservice to treat her as an unwanted copy. That’s Lady Liberty of St. Maarten, an homage from 2007 (post-dating the debunking, even) that was dedicated to the anniversary of the ending of slavery there: The Statue of Liberty in New York Harbor is a representation of Libertas, the Roman goddess of freedom, with bonus American iconography: HOWEVER: Lady Liberty in New York is not based on a white woman, either.  She’s a Muslim Arab woman, at least in terms of the modeling of her face. Her face was reused from an abandoned project to build a colossal statue of a modern Egyptian Arab peasant woman near the Suez Canal (as verified by the Smithsonian, no less). While she wasn’t originally dedicated specifically for immigrants, the poem “The New Colossus” was added specifically because of the position she occupied in the harbor and the symbolic visual power she would have to immigrants coming in. The author, Emma Lazarus, was Jewish. It’s important to fight back on the whitewashing of history, because it happens left and right, but it shouldn’t happen at the cost of misinformation that treats Lady Liberty of St. Maarten as an unwanted prototype rather than a powerful monument in her own right and, ironically, claims that she’s now a white woman when she’s not while also ignoring the powerful influence of the Jewish-American community on the final version. Geez, I’m really tired of people trying to spout false shit all over tumblr. Like, this post has 37K notes, But I assure you, that like many other false posts, ¾ of the notes are from people who saw the false bit and prefered to reblog it that way and be mad, instead of just making a simple google search Hi Darling Friends of Tumblr. I’ve been taking too long to do data entry and I’m not good at actually doing analysis so it’s time to start naming and shaming. @thatpettyblackgirl is a blog that I’ve been observing for a while that has a really interesting pattern of behavior. Namely, posting a bunch of shit like this. Remember that tweet about Olive Garden supporting Donald Trump that was debunked? Well when it circulated on tumblr two weeks ago it was because of @thatpettyblackgirl You know the misreported post about the school lunch program that refused donations from a local businessman? That was a different blogger but thatpettyblackgirl has circulated another version of it. That other blogger has a posting history that’s full of the same kinds of things thatpettyblackgirl posts - lots of reposts from twitter, lots of screenshots from other sites, not a lot of commentary, and things that are decontextualized enough to make them seem worse than they are or to totally misrepresent the actions depicted (like this reposted video and tweets indignant about a man being arrested when the very specific purpose of his protest was to get arrested). It reminds me of that post about coconut husks as a wood alternative that’s been circulating recently - a screenshot of a white man above a news article is posted with the complaint that white people “discovering” coconuts after disregarding them as useless when the article is about a new method of processing coconut husks that allows them to be put to new uses. That blog is fascinating. And has a lot in common with thatpettyblackgirl - both of them reblog their own posts at a rate that’s higher than I’ve seen on most tumblrs (btw, you should know that a while back I asked for volunteers who would let me explore their tumblrs and while my research sample isn’t random it is a collection of small and large blogs and none of them have *checks notes* reblogged their own post of a bunch of screencaps of a tweet storm five times in the last couple of days). Both of them tend to post screencaps, neither one really writes much. They reblog a lot of memes, and both have some pretty big textposts that are just straight rip-offs of tweets (”bi folks have you eaten today? answer quick and iced coffee doesn’t count” is one of thatpettyblackgirl’s recent popular textposts and it’s ripped off from twitter.) They also reblog eachother a fair amount - along with @whyyoustabbedme and @endangered-justice-seeker, who ALSO have really weird posting patterns. Also all four of those blogs are part of a group of nine blogs that were created in a three-week period of 2017 that I’ve been watching that don’t seem to follow a pattern of normal tumblr behavior and that also post an awful lot of incorrect viral posts and are staggeringly popular (for clarity: blackqueerblog is not one of the nine created in that time period). ANYWAY this is all reminding me very strongly of bellygangstaboo and lagonegirl. I know I probably sound like this image: But there are excellent, thoughtful bloggers who discuss police brutality, racism in the US, class warefare, and institutional bias who aren’t ALSO unflaggingly committed to having their own dedicated Snopes pages. @odinsblog, Franchesca Ramsey, @antifainternational, and @mostlysignssomeportents might be a good place to start. My dudes, I don’t want to be depressing so I’ll let Vanity Fair do it for me: That Russian operatives could so effectively engage Americans with tactics as simple as Facebook ads, fake-news postings, and Twitter trolls, shows how dangerous misinformation is in the social-media age, when propaganda can be so easily amplified. More important, it highlights how primed Americans already were for manipulation. When the ICE raids started up again a few months ago thatpettyblackgirl was posting about how shameful it was that there was nothing that could be done. A lot of these blogs are writing about how it’s impossible for black people to succeed in America, they’re writing about how voting is always rigged and you can’t fight the system. And you know what that goes against every fucking principle of my cold little anarchist heart. These blogs are full of despair - they look like they’re full of cute memes and fresh news but they’re a poisoned pill telling you not to bother because you can’t fight the system. They’re not offering help, they’re training you not to bother fighting for your rights (there was a popular post about how the Hong Kong protesters are light years ahead of US protesters - that post didn’t talk about mutual aid or sharing tactics, it just said “people in the US would never” and left it at that, like we can’t learn from each other and share information across borders) Fucking. Anyway. I’ve been fairly quiet about this because I’ve been trying to be all good and data sciencey about it but I’ve seen this post on my dash fifty times this week. Keep your eye out for @thatpettyblackgirl  @uncommonbish @whyyoustabbedme and @blackqueerblog - all of them have large followings and are known to post tweets and news articles out of context and if you’re considering reblogging information from one of their blogs please make a point to fact-check the post yourself. Not everything they post is wrong. I don’t know if these are real bloggers who don’t care about the potential negative impact of their tweet thievery or if they’re weird psyops blogs that are intended to make you feel hopeless about your place in the political process. Whatever they are it doesn’t matter when they continually post misinformation and don’t seem to care about stopping so please be cautious. Anyway, I’m cataloguing these sorts of posts at @psyops-redux so if you want to keep an eye out for stuff that’s debunked I’ll tag by originating blogger over there. Stay safe, buds. Dammit, I got all fired up and I forgot to add: THERE’S A GAME THAT HELPS YOU RECOGNIZE WHEN PEOPLE ARE POSTING MISINFORMATION AND MAKES YOU LESS SUSCEPTIBLE TO THIS KIND OF PROPAGANDA AND YOU SHOULD ALL GO PLAY IT. Ah. The number reposts from their own blogs had puzzled me in the past. I assumed it was something to do with the way Tumblr runs that I wasn’t tech-savvy enough to understand. But this makes a lot of sense. Unless someone tells me otherwise, I’m gonna go ahead and unfollow the blogs listed. Any recommendations for actual historical/current affairs poc blogs to follow instead?
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thejorie: xilast-zurvifferman: thejorie: jackbecq: thejorie: 19leahjade96: thejorie: madamekagamine: thejorie: gccgrimm: thejorie: gucciballs: thejorie: peble: thejorie: My three girlfriends.And yes, they smoke weed. do they smoke weed? Yes, actually. you mean she isnt just smoking a cigarette? but a weed cigarette? It’s called a bunt…. Not weed cigarette… And yes, it is a weed bunt. They all smoke weed bunts before we kiss. (They are my girlfriends,) They don’t look like they smoke weed. Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.I’m so angry you are so lucky my three weed smorking girlfriends are rubbing my shoulders to calm me down I’m so mad. Your “weed smoking girlfriend” has a Hello Kitty tattoo on her belly. The one in the middle. I printed out a photo of your avatar and taped it to my punching bag that I punch and I mutter your URL with every strong punch I punch you twerp…. Don’t ever Talk about Blaiz or the wicked Tat(tattoo) I drew on her ever again I Don’t wanna see you standing outside my home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again ok leave us alone this is the FINAL FUCKING WARNING  Well that escalated quickly…… What, was that? Hmm? Come again. *Blaiz grabs my shoulder* Come on Jory, they aren’t worth it, please. * I jerk my shoulder shaking her hand off* NO! NOOOOO!!! *starts to just pummel you with my big fucking fists. With each blow I let out a furious yell. The blows come quicker and harder and the yells get louder. I’m yelling so loud and now I’m crying. BREAKING POINT. The week was hard and I can’t take anymore. I’m opening sobbing at this point while you blood gurgle. All three of my girlfriends struggle to pull me off and they finally succeed and lead me away from the goo pile that is now your body* haha oh my god who even is this dude? someone needs some anger management classes. love how he keeps reminding us that “I HAVE THREE GIRLFRIENDS”, “THEY ALL KISS ME”, and “THEY SMOKE WEED HURRP DURR”. and let’s not forget the “Blaiz” and her “wicked tat”, or that he doesn’t “wanna see you standing outside [his] home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again”, and that this is “the FINAL FUCKING WARNING”. “the goo pile that is now your body” i’m dying over here, jesus please, Jory, come challenge me to a bout of internet witticsisms; i promise, it’ll be fun. *shoots you dead* Heh, idiot…*leaves with my three weed smorking girlfriends to go hold hands and kiss.* this dude playin omg  Come again? *The bar falls silent. No one dares to make a sound, as you have just said a very poor choice of words at a very dangerous time. I remain slumped over the bar, not looking back to you. One hand limply holding an almost empty bottle, the other hand cradling my head. I repeat the question, this time louder.* Come again?! *You can hear me slur the words, the sentence sounds like a real struggle for me to get out. I’m clearly intoxicated. A bead of sweat rolls down your face as you realize you might have just fucked up in a very major way. Everyone else in the bar is pretending to not notice what is going on. The bartender idly washes a mug with a cloth. His eyes are closed and he’s muttering something to himself. A handful of people hurriedly leave. One person looks back at you, a look of sorrow on their face. They almost say something, but shake their head and cast their eyes down to the floor, and leave. But not you. You stand, petrified. A quick look at me reveals I’m still  at the bar. You look to the exit, there’s still time. But there’s not, there’s not, there’s not. Your fate was sealed the moment you opened your mouth.* Mother fuck.. what did you say?! *I slowly rise from my stool and being to lumber over to you.  I look a mess. My hair is unkempt, I haven’t shaved in what looks like months, there are dark heavy bags under my eyes, my shirt is stained and has holes in it, and I’m missing a shoe. But the main thing you notice is the gun tucked into my jeans, and my massive muscle arms that look like they were made for punching. You know that song about the boots that were made for walking? Yeah, it’s like that only instead of boots it’s my muscles and instead of walking it’s punching. As I drunkenly sway over to you, you think of your family… Will they mourn you, or will they try and forget this blotch of stupidity, that their child insulted the Jory publicly, ever happened to their family? Your thoughts are cut short as I now stand face to face with you. I grab your face and pull you even closer.* Playin?! There was nothing playing… no playing you fuck. No playing… it was real.. the realest thing I’ve ever know.. felt… Love. I loved them… Blaiz…. Chas-Chas… Funk… I loved all three of em… but they…*My face is wet with tears and I’m blinking constantly in vain to hold them back.* They left me… left… *Almost instantly the sadness leaves my face and is replaced with pure anger.* Playin? Playin?! *My hand leaves your face and starts to head to what you think is the gun. You close your eyes and see God looking at you, shrugging. ‘Pft, you brought this upon yourself dude.’ He says as he waves his hands at you dismissively. But instead of the gun, my hands grab yours. Your eyes jolt open and the anger is gone from my face. There is only sadness.* Left me… * I fall to the floor and sob.*Wow, grow up. *You say before you leave the bar but are hit almost immediately from a car and are killed upon impact.* : thejorie: xilast-zurvifferman: thejorie: jackbecq: thejorie: 19leahjade96: thejorie: madamekagamine: thejorie: gccgrimm: thejorie: gucciballs: thejorie: peble: thejorie: My three girlfriends.And yes, they smoke weed. do they smoke weed? Yes, actually. you mean she isnt just smoking a cigarette? but a weed cigarette? It’s called a bunt…. Not weed cigarette… And yes, it is a weed bunt. They all smoke weed bunts before we kiss. (They are my girlfriends,) They don’t look like they smoke weed. Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.I’m so angry you are so lucky my three weed smorking girlfriends are rubbing my shoulders to calm me down I’m so mad. Your “weed smoking girlfriend” has a Hello Kitty tattoo on her belly. The one in the middle. I printed out a photo of your avatar and taped it to my punching bag that I punch and I mutter your URL with every strong punch I punch you twerp…. Don’t ever Talk about Blaiz or the wicked Tat(tattoo) I drew on her ever again I Don’t wanna see you standing outside my home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again ok leave us alone this is the FINAL FUCKING WARNING  Well that escalated quickly…… What, was that? Hmm? Come again. *Blaiz grabs my shoulder* Come on Jory, they aren’t worth it, please. * I jerk my shoulder shaking her hand off* NO! NOOOOO!!! *starts to just pummel you with my big fucking fists. With each blow I let out a furious yell. The blows come quicker and harder and the yells get louder. I’m yelling so loud and now I’m crying. BREAKING POINT. The week was hard and I can’t take anymore. I’m opening sobbing at this point while you blood gurgle. All three of my girlfriends struggle to pull me off and they finally succeed and lead me away from the goo pile that is now your body* haha oh my god who even is this dude? someone needs some anger management classes. love how he keeps reminding us that “I HAVE THREE GIRLFRIENDS”, “THEY ALL KISS ME”, and “THEY SMOKE WEED HURRP DURR”. and let’s not forget the “Blaiz” and her “wicked tat”, or that he doesn’t “wanna see you standing outside [his] home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again”, and that this is “the FINAL FUCKING WARNING”. “the goo pile that is now your body” i’m dying over here, jesus please, Jory, come challenge me to a bout of internet witticsisms; i promise, it’ll be fun. *shoots you dead* Heh, idiot…*leaves with my three weed smorking girlfriends to go hold hands and kiss.* this dude playin omg  Come again? *The bar falls silent. No one dares to make a sound, as you have just said a very poor choice of words at a very dangerous time. I remain slumped over the bar, not looking back to you. One hand limply holding an almost empty bottle, the other hand cradling my head. I repeat the question, this time louder.* Come again?! *You can hear me slur the words, the sentence sounds like a real struggle for me to get out. I’m clearly intoxicated. A bead of sweat rolls down your face as you realize you might have just fucked up in a very major way. Everyone else in the bar is pretending to not notice what is going on. The bartender idly washes a mug with a cloth. His eyes are closed and he’s muttering something to himself. A handful of people hurriedly leave. One person looks back at you, a look of sorrow on their face. They almost say something, but shake their head and cast their eyes down to the floor, and leave. But not you. You stand, petrified. A quick look at me reveals I’m still  at the bar. You look to the exit, there’s still time. But there’s not, there’s not, there’s not. Your fate was sealed the moment you opened your mouth.* Mother fuck.. what did you say?! *I slowly rise from my stool and being to lumber over to you.  I look a mess. My hair is unkempt, I haven’t shaved in what looks like months, there are dark heavy bags under my eyes, my shirt is stained and has holes in it, and I’m missing a shoe. But the main thing you notice is the gun tucked into my jeans, and my massive muscle arms that look like they were made for punching. You know that song about the boots that were made for walking? Yeah, it’s like that only instead of boots it’s my muscles and instead of walking it’s punching. As I drunkenly sway over to you, you think of your family… Will they mourn you, or will they try and forget this blotch of stupidity, that their child insulted the Jory publicly, ever happened to their family? Your thoughts are cut short as I now stand face to face with you. I grab your face and pull you even closer.* Playin?! There was nothing playing… no playing you fuck. No playing… it was real.. the realest thing I’ve ever know.. felt… Love. I loved them… Blaiz…. Chas-Chas… Funk… I loved all three of em… but they…*My face is wet with tears and I’m blinking constantly in vain to hold them back.* They left me… left… *Almost instantly the sadness leaves my face and is replaced with pure anger.* Playin? Playin?! *My hand leaves your face and starts to head to what you think is the gun. You close your eyes and see God looking at you, shrugging. ‘Pft, you brought this upon yourself dude.’ He says as he waves his hands at you dismissively. But instead of the gun, my hands grab yours. Your eyes jolt open and the anger is gone from my face. There is only sadness.* Left me… * I fall to the floor and sob.*Wow, grow up. *You say before you leave the bar but are hit almost immediately from a car and are killed upon impact.*
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