gailsimone

uninhibitedandunrepentant:

alliseeisthewarpandimgoingmad:

fearandlothering:

niceliwright:

fearandlothering:

megaman2:

“there’s nothing wrong with the video game community”

I DO NOT WANT TO LIVE ON THIS PLANET ANYMORE

They all need a good punch in the D, tbh.

47% of gamers are female.

47% of gamers are female.

47% of gamers are female.

47% of gamers are female.

  1. 47% of gamers are female
  • 47% of gamers are female

And did I mention 47% OF GAMERS ARE FEMALE.

IN FACT WOMEN OVER THE AGE OF 18 REPRESENT A SIGNIFICANTLY GREATER PORTION OF THE GAME-PLAYING POPULATION THAN BOYS 17 OR YOUNGER.

THESE STUDIES WERE PUBLISHED ONLINE FOR FREE TO THE PUBLIC - BY THE PEOPLE WHO OWN AND RUN E3 SO FUCK YOU AND YOUR MISOGYNISTIC BULLSHIT YOU ASSHOLES.

Flawless commentary warrants another reblog. :)

Well there’s ten individuals who’re never going to get a date ever…

Never.

Not.

Relevant.

thegameeismine
The problem is that white people see racism as conscious hate, when racism is bigger than that. Racism is a complex system of social and political levers and pulleys set up generations ago to continue working on the behalf of whites at other people’s expense, whether whites know/like it or not. Racism is an insidious cultural disease. It is so insidious that it doesn’t care if you are a white person who likes black people; it’s still going to find a way to infect how you deal with people who don’t look like you. Yes, racism looks like hate, but hate is just one manifestation. Privilege is another. Access is another. Ignorance is another. Apathy is another. And so on. So while I agree with people who say no one is born racist, it remains a powerful system that we’re immediately born into. It’s like being born into air: you take it in as soon as you breathe. It’s not a cold that you can get over. There is no anti-racist certification class. It’s a set of socioeconomic traps and cultural values that are fired up every time we interact with the world. It is a thing you have to keep scooping out of the boat of your life to keep from drowning in it. I know it’s hard work, but it’s the price you pay for owning everything.

Scott Woods (X)

he motherfucking dropped the truth.

(via mesmerisme)

THAT’S THE PRICE YOU PAY FOR OWNING EVERYTHING

(via queerfabulousmermaid)

this is a super important explanation to think about whenever you feel like telling someone that something isn’t racist because you don’t hate x person.

(via robotsandfrippary)

thegameeismine
  • White people: *reads/watches a book/movie about a Dystopian world* wow those poor people being oppressed by the government and authority.they have every right to fight back and should start a revolt.Nobody should be treated this way!
  • POC: *actually oppressed by government and police authority*
  • *are prosecuted each and everyday*
  • *gets killed and beaten by the police while being unarmed*
  • *gets Fed up and start protesting against all this*
  • White people: ..
  • ...
  • ...
  • Wow like I understand that racial minorities are angry but that doesn't give them the right to riot and say that you hate the police and white people.You don't fight fire with fire! This isn't about race unless you make it about race! #weallbleedred
gailsimone

thepeoplesrecord:

In Ferguson, Washington Post reporter Wesley Lowery gives account of his arrest
August 14, 2014

For the past week in Ferguson, reporters have been using the McDonald’s a few blocks from the scene of Michael Brown’s shooting as a staging area. Demonstrations have blown up each night nearby. But inside there’s WiFi and outlets, so it’s common for reporters to gather there.

That was the case Wednesday. My phone was just about to die, so as I charged it, I used the time to respond to people on Twitter and do a little bit of a Q&A since I wasn’t out there covering the protests.

As I sat there, many armed officers came in — some who were dressed as normal officers, others who were dressed with more gear.

Initially, both Ryan Reilly of the Huffington Post and I were asked for identification. I was wearing my lanyard, but Ryan asked why he had to show his ID. They didn’t press the point, but one added that if we called 911, no one would answer.

Then they walked away. Moments later, the police reemerged, telling us that we had to leave. I pulled my phone out and began recording video.

An officer with a large weapon came up to me and said, “Stop recording.”

I said, “Officer, do I not have the right to record you?”

He backed off but told me to hurry up. So I gathered my notebook and pens with one hand while recording him with the other hand.

As I exited, I saw Ryan to my left, having a similar argument with two officers. I recorded him, too, and that angered the officer. As I made my way toward the door, the officers gave me conflicting information.

One instructed me to exit to my left. As I turned left, another officer emerged, blocking my path.

“Go another way,” he said.

As I turned, my backpack, which was slung over one shoulder, began to slip. I said, “Officers, let me just gather my bag.” As I did, one of them said, “Okay, let’s take him.”

Multiple officers grabbed me. I tried to turn my back to them to assist them in arresting me. I dropped the things from my hands.

“My hands are behind my back,” I said. “I’m not resisting. I’m not resisting.” At which point one officer said: “You’re resisting. Stop resisting.”

That was when I was most afraid — more afraid than of the tear gas and rubber bullets.

As they took me into custody, the officers slammed me into a soda machine, at one point setting off the Coke dispenser. They put plastic cuffs on me, then they led me out the door.

I could see Ryan still talking to an officer. I said: “Ryan, tweet that they’re arresting me, tweet that they’re arresting me.”

He didn’t have an opportunity, because he was arrested as well.

The officers led us outside to a police van. Inside, there was a large man sitting on the floor between the two benches. He began screaming: “I can’t breathe! Call a paramedic! Call a paramedic!”

Ryan and I asked the officers if they intended to help the man. They said he was fine. The screaming went on for the 10 to 15 minutes we stood outside the van.

“I’m going to die!” he screamed. “I’m going to die! I can’t breathe! I’m going to die!”

Eventually a police car arrived. A woman — with a collar identifying her as a member of the clergy — sat in the back. Ryan and I crammed in next to her, and we took the three-minute ride to the Ferguson Police Department. The woman sang hymns throughout the ride.

During this time, we asked the officers for badge numbers. We asked to speak to a supervising officer. We asked why we were being detained. We were told: trespassing in a McDonald’s.

“I hope you’re happy with yourself,” one officer told me. And I responded: “This story’s going to get out there. It’s going to be on the front page of The Washington Post tomorrow.”

And he said, “Yeah, well, you’re going to be in my jail cell tonight.”

Once at the station, we were processed, our pockets emptied. No mug shots. They removed our restraints and put us in a holding cell. Ryan was able to get ahold of his dad. I called my mom, but I couldn’t get through. I couldn’t remember any phone numbers.

We were in there for what felt like 10 or 15 minutes. Then the processing officer came in.

“Who’s media?” he asked.

We said we were. And the officer said we were both free to go. We asked to speak to a commanding officer. We asked to see an arrest report. No report, the officer told us, and no, they wouldn’t provide any names.

I asked if there would ever be a report. He came back with a case number and said a report would be available in a week or two.

“The chief thought he was doing you two a favor,” he said.

The Ferguson Police Department did not immediately respond to a request for comment on Lowery’s detention.

Source

gailsimone

gaywrites:

More than 20 LGBT organizations have signed onto a joint statement in support of Michael Brown’s family and community.

The statement asserts that Brown’s tragic killing and the current catastrophe in Ferguson transcend LGBT rights. Rather, it notes that all our battles for civil rights and social justice are connected, and that leaders of all equality movements must support one another. 

The lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender (LGBT) community cannot be silent at this moment, because LGBT people come from all races, creeds, faiths and backgrounds, and because all movements of equality are deeply connected. We are all part of the fabric of this nation and the promise of liberty and justice for all is yet to be fulfilled.

The LGBT community stands with the family of Michael Brown, who was gunned down in Ferguson, Missouri. We stand with the mothers and fathers of young Black men and women who fear for the safety of their children each time they leave their homes. We call on the national and local media to be responsible and steadfast in their coverage of this story and others like it—racialized killings that have marred this nation since the beginning of its history. We call on policy makers on all levels of American government not to shrink from action, and we are deeply grateful to Attorney General Eric Holder and the Department of Justice for their immediate commitment to a thorough investigation.

At this moment, we are inspired by the words of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.: “In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies … but the silence of our friends.”

Never stop speaking up. We are all in this.