On Crate Walking, White Supremacy, and Reckless, Stupid, Dangerous Behavior

Y'all remember when people were out here tryin' t'walk up a pyramid of milk crates?

Image descriptions: the first image shows a woman of pallor precariously trying to scale a pyramid of milk crates. The second image shows the woman from the first image plummeting to the ground after the milk crate she was on failed to stay steady. In both pictures, people can be seen filming the fiasco with their cell phones.

Pepperidge Farms remembers.

That was some wild sh--, wasn't it? Just reckless, stupid, and dangerous behavior. And y’all was doin’ this nonsense in the middle of a pandemic! Like, bruh.

I remember at the time thinking, "Man, with everything going on, this is one of the dumbest, most dangerous thing I've seen people intentionally do in years." But now? It's not even in the top five reckless, stupid, and dangerous things I've seen people intentionally do in the last decade.

That distinction goes to everyone who voted for y'all's president and this current administration that thought they wouldn't get hurt by their idol who are still holding out hope that they'll be magically spared from the complete dismantling of the systems and protections that are keeping them alive and safe.

Just reckless, stupid, and dangerous behavior.

I would say you should've know better but a lot of y'all really thought you could walk up a stack of milk crates and come out unscathed so c'est la vie, eh?

[Image descriptions: the first image shows a woman of pallor precariously trying to scale a pyramid of milk crates. The second image shows the woman from the first image plummeting to the ground after the milk crate she was on failed to stay steady. In both pictures, people can be seen filming the fiasco with their cell phones.]

On "Straight Pride" and Hetero Toxicity

Me everytime someone brings up the idea of "Straight Pride," also known as EVERY DAMN DAY IN A WHITE SUPREMACIST HETERONORMATIVE HATEFUL SOCIETAL CULTURE.

Image description: A picture of the right arm and hand of the children's animated cartoon Arthur's main character, Arthur Read. His right hand is clenched into a fist.

I swear hetero cis male people be really in their feelings every June, acting like their existence is diminished because other people are celebrating their lives, resilience, and perseverence in the face of generation-spanning bigotry and oppression and the whims of weak-sauce people who haven't had fun or given their partners an orgasm in years.

How you can be a part of a dominant culture that celebrates your existence and is intentionally structured to cater to your need to feel superior and important yet still act like you're being victimized is beyond me. And doubly beyond me for the hetero cis male people whose skin looks like rotisserie chicken if they don’t wear sunscreen.

[Image description: A picture of the right arm and hand of the children's animated cartoon Arthur's main character, Arthur Read. His right hand is clenched into a fist.]

On Pride Month, Performative Nonsense, and Stepping Up or Stepping Out of the Way

It’s Pride Month, which sadly ranks up there in performative pallor energy with Black History Month on the “I’m a Good Person” scale. Months that are equal parts celebration and memorial always hit a certain way, especially if your identities are intersectional with a splash of melanin. With the state of intentionally harmful practices aimed at trans and queer folx currently taking laps through the counties and communities that collectively operate under the United States of America brand, months like this feel more meaningful…which makes it all feel more tenuous and precarious than usual.

As a queer-identifying person who hasn't had to constantly have my sexuality and sexual identities questioned and threatened by "sleuths" who think that have everyone pegged, I have been able to use the little bit of privilege and positionality I have to educate, correct, and chin check “allies,” melanated misanthropes, and alabaster homophones and transphobes without them seeing it coming. I say all of that not to brag or boast. There's nothing to brag and boast about. I have privilege and positionality, and I use them to support others without the need for kudos and cookies. No, I say all of that to amplify one simple idea:

It's easy as f--- to step up, speak up, speak out, call in, call out, and fight for people facing harm, death, and oppression.

And you don't need a special month or brand name merchandise to do that sh--.

We don't have time for y'all pulling us aside after a work meeting to "apologize" for Bill from Accounting being a toxic ghost that none of y'all who share his lack of melanin have the backbone to stand up to.

Ain't nobody got time for your low-key "apologies" when your ashy homophobic and transphobic family members aren't present to hear that you stand with your LGBTQIA+ friends and family members and that their anti-Black bigotry is not a good look.

You either stand with and fight for folx in the now or admit that you don't care about their later.

Performative activism is a choice. It's not and never has been the only choice, but a whole lot of y'all so-called "allies" love to act as such.

Just sayin.'

Happy Pride, my peoples.

On Hate, Bigotry, The Hold They Have on People, and Not Having Hobbies or Interests

I often think about the amount of energy that goes into being an absolutely hateful person. Like, think about how much time hateful people spend ruminating about communities and groups they hate. To hate someone based on their skin color, non-Christian religious beliefs, gender identity, gender expression, ethnocultural heritage...and to devote copious amounts of time - to devote chunks of your lifetime - to harassing and attacking said communities and groups in every space you can find...

You ain't got NOTHING else to do?

No interests, hobbies, or passions outside of your hatred for others?

Like, there are folx out there right now literally spending thousands of hours targeting folx who are minding their business, living their lives, doing nothing to them and for what? What do they have to show for it, outside of successfully fomenting their unwarranted phobias and isms? It's not like they're getting any joy out of it. It's not filling a void in their lives, or giving them a leg up on anyone, or making their lives better. Studies have shown that it's not even providing a momentary satisfaction for them when they do it.

What's the point, other than to live your life as an antagonist that thinks you're better than others?

They don't even realize that their insecurities are on display every time they do what they do, and that we all have to live with the fallout of their unwillingness to unpack their sh-- with a therapist.

Think about how preposterous and useless it is to dedicate so much of your time and energy to attacking trans folx, Black and Brown folx, communities of color, queer communities, non-Christian folx, who ain't even thinkin' about you.

You could be building boats in bottles or doin' needle point but instead you out here trolling people for hours on social media or going out of your way to be in a space with people you claim to not want to be around.

What a waste of time and life.

Day 5

I've lived in my house since 2012. I have lived around the same neighbors, give or take a few, since 2012. There's a woman of pallor whose house I've walked by at least 100 times in the twelve years I've lived in my neighborhood, whether on the way to doing something or just taking a stroll. This woman of pallor has seen me at least fifty times in those twelve years and has never spoken a word to me. Today, while pulling my garbage and recycling cans from the curb and into my backyard, this woman of pallor talked to me for the first time.

And she questioned me as if she was planning to call ICE to knock on my door.

This woman asked me my name, my MIDDLE NAME, if I owned my home or had children.

This woman has never said two words to me in twelve years.

She asked me all these questions and then tried to frame it with, "Well, you can never be certain. It's dangerous out here, so it's good to know who's in your neighborhood. With all this 'woke' stuff? You just never know. It wasn't like that in my day." She also tried to invoke her religious convictions, giving me her information and stating that God would not let her ask all these questions without introducing herself.

I guess Elizabeth Ann wanted me to know the name of the person likely to call ICE on me so I know who to thank when they show up at my door.

It's day five of what 60% of cis males of pallor and 53% of cis women of pallor voted for.

Five f'n days.

Five. Of 1,460.

Thanks, people of pallor. I'm feeling great. I've watched people I know and care about sit in fear with millions of other citizens over the past five days; as the world unravels around them, their rights and privileges begin to disappear, and the current administration does everything it can to deport them or threaten their existence. And now I get the added icing on the cake of being extra vigilant about having three forms of identification on my person whenever I leave my home while being prepared to defend people being harmed by hateful people and ICE agents.

Are we great again yet? Let me know when we're great again so I can circle the day on my calendar.