trans woman ty underwood murdered in tyler texas
another beautiful girl gone…
please reblog this, i have been on tumblr all day and haven’t seen a single post besides mine about ty underwood. please do not forget about trans women.
trans woman ty underwood murdered in tyler texas
another beautiful girl gone…
please reblog this, i have been on tumblr all day and haven’t seen a single post besides mine about ty underwood. please do not forget about trans women.

shut uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuup
TECHNOLOGY IS SCARY WAAAAAAH
Some people make a living selling ebooks so go f-f-fuck yourself.
Book lovers need to know something about millenials:
-we don’t have a lot of money
-we often don’t have a lot of space
-and we move a lot more frequently than other generations might have
and that doesn’t even account for more severe realities, like abused women who lose everything they own when they are kicked out of their homes, or how poor young urban millenials of color are likely to fall behind on rent and be evicted – and yes that means losing all your physical possessions often including books.
The only books I still have right now are my ebooks. I swear to god every single time someone condemns me for “not caring” enough about “real” books I want to turn around and slap them upside the head. I HAD REAL BOOKS. IT WAS A LUXURY. THAT LUXURY WAS FORCIBLY TAKEN FROM ME. I CANNOT AFFORD THE SPACE AND TIME IT TAKES TO OWN PAPER COPY BOOKS ANYMORE. ALL I OWN ANYMORE IS DIGITAL INFORMATION BECAUSE PEOPLE KEEP TEARING MY PHYSICAL POSSESSIONS FROM ME.
When you meet millenials! Who are scared of owning physical things! It is likely because they moving sublet to sublet regularly. I know most of you know someone like this if you are not literally someone like this. You sort of maybe are out of your parents home but maybe not, and when you are out of your home or if you aren’t lucky enough to have parents that will let you stay at home, you stay on couches or live in someone else’s room while they’re gone and every couple of months to years you have to pack all your shit and leave. The providence of the poor is being hopelessly itinerant.
if you take the luxury of having physical books for granted and condemn ebooks you’re a classist and probably also a racist because mostly it’s old white people who write this stupid ass think pieces.
This guy couldn’t fit the ebooks I have in my pocket in a whole book case as physical books and I’M supposed to feel bad about that?
I used to have a lot of physical books. Now I have… five?
My mother is the sort of person who goes into your bedroom with a trash bag and throws out your stuff. She calls this “going through clutter” because she finds her others’ possessions “oppressive.” While this was annoying while growing up, it meant that I have now little attachment to physical things and will choose lasting, transportable, virtual objects for preference when possible. Virtual media can’t be taken away from me.
Also, my mother was a rather aggressive curator of my possessions anyway. While this meant that I now have “good taste,” she really hated to see me reading “trashy books.” She is now fond of Tamora Pierce, but initially, the lurid covers of the paperbacks meant that they were deemed “trashy,” and I had to smuggle in vast quantities of them before they gained a foothold in the home. Virtual media can be kept private, and is harder to discard or dismiss based on poor visual design.
We had a house full of books, but I considered very few of them mine, taking only a handful when I moved out. I had to move around a lot at first as I tried to pay rent and carve out my own space. I had to carve down my small, precious book collection into something I could carry by myself. I don’t have to leave virtual media behind every time my life changes.
Then I moved in with a boy. The boy had many of the same books I did. Since he was more prosperous, many of his were nicer. He also didn’t have a lot of space, and I felt bad. I sat in my tiny studio apartment, packing up my books and crying to myself as I sorted them into the three familiar piles.
Keep.
Give to charity.
Throw away.
Those books were so expensive. A fine new hardback book was $20. I loved Terry Pratchett so much that I would always buy them new. But that $20 could have been my food for a week. And now I was giving it to charity like it was nothing, this book I had gone hungry for, simply because my partner already had a copy. I had no money and I was surrounded by a collection of hundreds of dollars’ worth of useless, heavy, redundant books. Virtual media doesn’t make me cry this way.
Then the boy and I… well, we moved to England together, didn’t we? Now I didn’t even have a car to drive my books around in. I had two suitcases. I left my cat and my wedding dress and my clothes and almost every book. I took about seven books with me. Virtual media crosses oceans without weighing anything at all.
Then we moved onto a boat. The book has bookshelves, but is nothing like our previous library. At this point I was able to pick up my seven books and say “Let’s go!” but my husband had to sell his books. At the car boot sale, people boggled. “Did you just sell your bookshop?” they asked. And Dr Glass was quite upset. Over twenty years of his lovingly curated bookshelves evaporated with almost nothing to show for it. Virtual media doesn’t sink boats … and suits small-space living.
So we’ve reached a compromise. The husband collects Folio Society books. They dominate our bookshelves. These are books for book lovers. You think book apologists love books? They don’t know shit about books. These Folio Society fuckers are gilded and illustrated and come in glowing slipcases. They’re what beast-kings put in their libraries to lure teenage girls into marriage. You read “The Golden Compass” or “Hitchhiker’s Guide” in Folio editions and you keep going “FUCK, LOOK AT THIS READING EXPERIENCE,” okay? These books upgrade you instantly into book snob, like “Fuck off with your trade paperback. Does it have exquisite watercolors of Lyra and Pan, Pullman’s own preface and hand-drawings, and a slipcase you could use to kill an armored bear? No? Fuck off with your little mashed tree products and have fun collecting silverfish. My grandchildren will fight over who gets to inherit this book.”
So my husband has a nice little collection that he occasionally adds to, but the whole point is that these physical books are incredibly special, hold their value very well (he makes a reasonably profitable hobby of selling and trading within those circles), and are worthy of being weighty physical objects, bringing multiple levels of aesthetic pleasure and value to our home.
And I have my Kindle.
I have a shitload of books on my Kindle.
And if I were to drop my Kindle in the ocean right now, or if my life were to be consumed by flames, I wouldn’t lose my books again.
Physical media has its place in my heart and home.
But virtual media doesn’t break my heart.
Despite personally being a book lover, and by dint of that having a virtually empty pair of B&N Nook Simple Touches sat on the shelves; everything else you say is true, but there is one thing that you say with which I have an issue.
“Virtual media can’t be taken away from me”
Yes, yes it can. Well. Potentially.
If you’re buying from Amazon or from most of the big ebook stores, your books are not actually yours. They’re a licence to read. And you may think that makes no real difference, but it does. Back in 2009 Amazon deleted books (ironically, Orwell’s 1984) from their Kindles because of a licensing issue (http://www.theguardian.com/technology/2009/jul/22/kindle-amazon-digital-rights). They could do this because whilst it’s shite customer service, it’s perfectly legal. It’s legal because all they ever sold was a licence to access the book, and in the millions of lines of teeny small print, it gave them the right to take that away again. They could do it because the Kindle is a device under the control of Amazon, and the ebooks on it are wrapped in ‘digital rights management’.
It is illegal, in most western countries, to remove the DRM in which Amazon and such encase their ebooks.
I have encountered stories of people who’ve lost their entire ebook collection (or iTunes collection) because the retailer from whom they’ve purchased their licenses says they’ve breached the licence conditions and revokes access. Whilst I may be forced to give up my book collection one day, it won’t be because the chain I bought them from went bust, and the licence is gone.
I don’t disagree that for some/many people ebooks suit their life better. However, I think that when you make that investment in your elibrary you should be firmly aware that what you’re really doing is renting them.
I highly recommend reading Cory Doctrow’s Information Doesn’t Want To Be Free for a much more intelligent view of this than I can produce.
But at any rate, until DRM’s gone, I’ll keep lugging my paper books around, because I’m very fond of ownership not licenses from companies that may disappear.
Of course, you may only be buying books without DRM, in which case I’ll STFU and get back in my box.

omgs:
Hey guys this is just a friendly daily reminder :
Don’t FUCKING FORGET ABOUT #FERGUSON .ive havent seen any posts about ferguson lately and this aint okay
It has come to my attention… well, okay, let’s say that I’ve been aware for some time that I can be very bad at relaxing. Which seems like an odd thing to say, because whilst I’m perfectly content to sit and binge watch some show, or read far too much in the way of my delightful RSS feeds, if I’ve not achieved what I consider ‘enough’ with any given day / week / month, I get very frustrated with myself.
And let’s add to that the requirement that I feel I must manage at least all of the following in any given chunk of time:
– Work (kinda required to keep eating and heating on)
– Finishing decorating the house
– Writing (creatively)
– Practicing some form of instrument
– At least a bit of exercise
On top of which I add in all the domestic goddess stuff* (ha!)
So… today I:
– Prepped and painted more trim
– Hoovered & dusted the lounge, guest room, hall, stairs, and kitchen floor.
– Went out and got bread/coffee**.
– Wrote a chunk of a post for Transport Evolved
– Did some (small) bit of exercise
And yet, come the evening, after we’ve watched a film together, I feel like I should be doing something work wise. I mean, clearly I should be… writing. Or playing the piano. Or practicing the guitar.
Which makes me feel guilty that I’m not.
And that makes me feel bad about doing these things, that as it happens, when I’m not pressuring myself into it, I actually enjoy.
Feh.
* Well, okay, just my half of keeping the house tidy…
** Which involves crossing the city centre, thus takes much longer than many would consider reasonable to get bread and coffee, but frankly if the bread’s not from either Harts, East Street Bakery, or Mark’s Bread then it’s not really very nice, and if the coffee’s not from Two Day or FCP, then really, what’s the point. Yes, I am aware I’ve turned into a total bread and coffee snob, but we don’t have loads of money to chuck around and these are two luxuries we can actually afford.

terriblerealestateagentphotos:
You’d never know it, but this wasn’t always the bathroom.
Book now available on Amazon
Follow on Twitter @BadRealtyPhotos
I spent quite a while trying to work out what was up with Logitech Media Server trying to work out why it wasn’t adding the files…
…and then I realised all the permissions were wrong. LMS didn’t have access to read the files. Which explains why it didn’t add them.
I am, it turns out, a moron.
Yesterday, ArbCom announced its preliminary decision. A panel of fourteen arbitrators – at least 11 of whom are men – decided to give GamerGate everything they’d wished for. All of the Five Horsemen are sanctioned; most will be excluded not only from “Gamergate broadly construed” but from anything in Wikipedia touching on “gender or sexuality, broadly construed.”
By my informal count, every feminist active in the area is to be sanctioned. This takes care of social justice warriors with a vengeance — not only do the GamerGaters get to rewrite their own page (and Zoe Quinn’s, Brianna Wu’s, Anita Sarkeesian’s, etc.); feminists are to be purged en bloc from the encyclopedia. Liberals are the new Scientologists as far as Arbcom is concerned.
Mark Bernstein: The infamous draft decision of Wikipedia’s Arbitration Committee (ArbCom) on Gamergate is worse than a crime. It’s a blunder that threatens to disgrace the internet. (via wilwheaton)
The one sentence you need to read to understand France’s anti-Semitism crisis
“Half of all racist attacks in France take Jews as their target, even though they number less than 1% of the population.”watch as all my goyische mutuals ignore this like they always do
if it makes one more person caring and aware (regardless of their personal ethnicity) it’s worth it for me to type and reblog.
So, as of late there has been much stress around. We’re planning to move to the States. Forever. Although we’re propping open the return-to-the-UK door with Kathryn getting UK citizenship, it’s not something we’re intending to use. It’s just insurance. Not terribly cheap insurance, but insurance.
In addition, neither of us is drinking (alcohol) at the moment, at least, not really, because we’re trying to have a baby. And it seems harsh for me to be sucking down the odd cider/beer/mix-drink when Kathryn can’t. And I’m somewhat phobic of drinking alone; it does happen, but it’s a real rarity. All of this I say because I’ve been following my two favourite comics, questionable content and girls with slingshots. They’ve been covering drinking in such a way as to warrant mention by the Washington Post blog. And it’s something which lurks in the corners of my brain a lot of the time.
Sometimes I get home and I fancy a drink. Nothing particularly wrong with that; a lot of people I know with relax and have a drink at home. I’d certainly not be the first Emergency Care professional to aid unwinding with alcohol. But I don’t, or at least very, very rarely. In fact, if I’m in a bad mood I’ll almost certainly not have a drink. Because alcohol unnerves me.
I drank too much as a teen. Much more than was healthy. I was deathly unhappy, I hated myself, I loathed pretty much all of my being. And having been bullied pretty extensively I had the social skills of a hermit crab. And suddenly, in sixth form, for whatever reason I started to be invited to parties. I already was someone who’d drunk ‘socially’. I’d go out of an evening, sweet talk the slightly dodgy off-licence into selling me cider, most commonly, or doubley sweet talk my way into a bar and we’d drink.
Usually a lot.
Not uncommon for teens, at least, in the UK.
But when I started going to parties, well, I didn’t really know when to stop. Or how to stop. Once I started, if I drank enough, I could forget how I felt I was pathetic, and awful, and useless. It would go away, or at least, go somewhere I didn’t have to think about it. I could talk to people… at least, I thought I could. Christ knows whether I could. I often suspect that the reason I got invited to go to parties was that I had access to a car. A lot of my friends couldn’t drive, or if they could they didn’t have parental permission. But my mum’s battered Peugeot 205? That was freely available (as long as my mum wasn’t working). So I’d ferry-to the party and then, the morning after, ferry-home. Distance no object*.
Even when I went to uni the first time, I still drank like a fish (although by then it was much more habit than anything else).
And when I eventually worked it all out? When I finally sorted myself out, and started to like myself a little I stopped drinking. But it’s left me with this vague fear of the stuff. An uneasiness surrounding drink.
A glass of wine is fine, maybe even a few on a very occasional night out. A mix-drink here and there. But drinking when I’m down? Or fed up after a bad day at work? No.
No, then the bottles stay firmly in the cupboard.
And as I deal with countless people with addictions to alcohol at work, I often think, there but for the grace…
…and it quietly terrifies me.
* I don’t think I was a terrible person, but when I made the mistake of attending a school reunion I have to say being almost totally excluded added a certain degree of weight to my “they liked the car” hypothesis.