Jan. 9th, 2019

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sassygaysatan:

thatdiabolicalfeminist:

sassygaysatan:

sure, when my grandfather fought nazis and fascism he was “a hero” and “on the right side of history” but when i do it im “way too sensitive” and “no better than they are”

That’s because when our white grandparents fought Nazis, it was for fear of them taking power away from other white people.

White Europeans and Americans were explicitly fine with genocide and the ideologies that led to it – a great many people, including Churchill, vocally supported most of what the Nazis were doing. Their only fight with Nazis was to maintain sovereignty from takeover.

Today’s Nazi-fighters usually have a problem with white supremacy and the antisemitism and racism etc behind it – which most of our white grandparents didn’t see a problem with and neither do many white people today.

This is why so many people don’t see any reason to stop the Nazis now, or why many others think it’s purely a struggle for Democrats or other neoliberal parties in other countries who might lose political power if they gain traction. Many people don’t see Nazis as a real problem unless they threaten the political power of other white people.

White supremacist organizations and movements have been a life-threatening scourge for people of colour and Jewish people this entire time. It’s really important that we focus on that as the real threat, or we risk having the same myopic perspective as generations past.

This was a great addition to my original post so I’m reblogging it.

This is so fucking funny because white people always suffer under white supremacists, it just takes a bit longer to get to them.

Like.

The white supermacist view is that everyone should adhere to an ideal (white, straight, male, cis, able bodied, gentile, etc) and everyone else should be exterminated. 

Here’s the fucking joke though.

NO ONE FITS THAT IDEAL.

THE MASTER RACE DOES NOT EXIST.

You think they won’t come for you? There’s a reason that poem is so fucking apt. They’ll find something to get you with. Maybe you saluted a bit too slow. Maybe you don’t want to get married and have eight million kids, maybe you want some kind of regulation at your workplace that will keep you alive.

(Guess what, Nazis sent people to concentration camps for all of the above reasons)

Hey, let’s even set nazis aside for a minute. My stepdad grew up in apartheid south africa. He was white, able bodies, straight, etc. Should have been fine, right?

LOL no. He had the crap beaten out of him on the regular for having long hair and being a hippie. Because that just wasn’t ‘white’ enough in those days.

(he fucked off out of that hellhole the moment he was eighteen and hitchhiked to the UK. THE UK. HITCHHIKED. FROM SOUTH AFRICA.)

So if you see white supremacists out marching, remember. Even if they might not say it, THEY WANT TO KILL YOU. There want top see you beaten down and murdered. It doesn’t matter how white or cis or straight or male or whatever you are. THEY WANT YOU DEAD.

WHITE SUPREMACY IS A DEATH CULT.
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ecstaticunicorns:

collinhoskins:

a bold but necessary take

I think it varies based on how close someone’s stage persona is to their real life selves. I can’t see people who ship the Daft Punk robots as shipping real people, for example.
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Game shows have- kinda changed since Eddie used to watch them.

“And for our charity special, please welcome our most eligible bachelor, star of the Eddie Brock show, Mr- Edward- Brock!”

That’s his cue. Eddie takes a deep breath, straightens his tux, for the thousandth time, and steps out onto the stage.

The presenter is smiling that toothpaste ad, thousand dollar smile. The audience is an anonymous blur of black and photography flashes. But Eddie’s eyes are pulls away, across the stage to see who- and what- have donated enough to get the chance to go on a date with him.

Okay, three humans. That’s a good start. He can do humans. Did do humans, quite a lot in fact, although after Annie he’s kinda- fallen off with that.

Two Asgardians. Umm… maybe? Okay, they look pretty good, one skinny black haired guy guy lounging on his chair like it’s a throne and occasionally spinning round when he thinks no one is watching, and a tall statuesque goddess all steel and massive forearms and is this how human women feel when dating? That cross between wow that’s hot and this person could kill or worse than kill me and there’s nothing I could do about it?

Eddie chalks them up to a wavering maybe and looks at the last two, even more alien contestants. One is blue and okay no, that’s a strike right out. Eddie might be a trainwreck but he is not dating a Kree. He’s not going to be part of some alien’s slumming grand tour.

And the last one is- a goo. Eddie digs desperately through his memories of all the aliens he knows, but all of them are at least a bit humanoid. This isn’t even close. It blinks huge white eyes nervously at him and- okay, that’s cute. Eddie isn’t sure how a date with that’s even going to go, but- he’s ready to try.

Okay. That’s a maybe on the Asgardian guy who likes the wheely chair and the goo, an ‘if I have to’ with the other Asgardian and the humans, and a hard no on the Kree. The presenter is introducing everyone and Eddie’s missed most of them, but he tries to tune back in.

“-a prince of Asgard and Jotunheim.” He waves at Prince Wheely Chair and fuck, but Eddie should have listened for his name. “Next we have Brunnhilde, leader of the Asgardian Valkyries, and she’d just love to take you for a ride on her big winged horse!”

Brunnhilde licks her lips suggestively and- okay so no. Eddie’s not so big on putting out on the first date. He looks away quickly, trying to ignore Prince Wheely Chair who is killing himself laughing. Fuck you, no Asgardians.

And of fucking course the next one is the fucking Kree, who’s looking like Eddie’s shit stuck to their boot- no, scratch that, like he’s someone the Kree would like to see lick the shit stuck to their boot. “And here we have Kina the-”

“No.” Eddie snaps. “Fuck no. I am not dating a reject from the Blue Man Group.”

The presenter’s smile slips. The Kree glares at Eddie so hatefully Eddie’s against desperately trying to remember if the Kree can actually incinerate him with it’s mind. He- thinks no? Brunhilde bursts out laughing and Prince Wheely Chair actually falls off. Everyone laughs and he climbs back on the chair, hair a mess and glaring furiously at everyone.

Eddie can’t help but meet the goo’s sympathetic eyes, and manages a weak smile. They might be the only sane ones here.

After another livid stare, the Kree stomps off the stage and starts shouting at someone behind the cameras. The presenter takes a deep breath and tries to rally. “And finally, from very far away we have-” He squints at the auto-cue. “Sorry, what?” The goo curls lower in its chair, looking humiliated. “How am I even supposed to say that? Is that even a name?”

“It’s okay.” Eddie breaks in, stepping maybe a bit harder than necessary on the presenter’s foot. “I’m sure we can figure it out.”

“I- ow- okay, he’s a symbiote, from Klyntar, wherever that is- fuck get off my foot- and that completes our list of contestants! Now, Mr Brock, what are your initial thoughts on our contestants?”

“I- don’t know if I’m quite ready to go back to humans just yet.” The three droop. Sorry guys. He wished he’d caught their names. “And I’m not quite sure I’m getting a vibe with the Asgardians just yet. But-” the goo is perking up, looking hopeful. “I’m kinda interested in this guy. Sorry I can’t say your name, you got something else I can call you?”

“Venom.” Ooh-kay. On one hand, holy shit that voice is doing some really interesting things to Eddie’s insides, on the other fucking hell those teeth. Eddie’s not sure if he’s scared or turned on. “We are Venom, and you will be ours.”

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