Take a moment this week to dig in to these longreads.
Because we, as individuals, may not have a particular connection to a particular lesbian bar that has gone under doesn’t mean that the death of the lesbian bar, in general, isn’t a tragedy.
Alley explored the State of the Lesbian Bar in Portland and got nostalgic along the way.
Want to watch a fat het man chain smoke? Want to watch a skinny gay girl sob? Want to watch them inexplicably, suddenly become best bffs? This is your flick.
This is the great fuckery of falling out of love in the age of technology: So many invisible threads hold us together. She lingers forever in my profile picture album and my iMessage logs. Even when I try to avoid these archives, a robot can coopt her name and remind me just what it felt like to love her.
Audrey via Linked Like We Once Were
Need some last-minute gift ideas for the muggle in your life? Make the season magical with these Heather-approved items.
I also dare you to play it on Christmas morning, on Christmas evening, on the way home for the holidays, the day after your family celebration while you’re eating leftovers, next time you drink any kind of seasonal cocktail or beer with a few of your bros, and when you’re bored. I don’t mean to play my own drum over here, but it’s kind of just that good.
Don’t forget your deck when you go home for the holigays! Keep yourself busy with these fun tarot activities.
Don’t know what to wear to that holigay party? We’ve got some outfits all lined up that you’re gonna look great in.
from “Are We There Yet: An Interracial Family Visits A Southern Plantation The Week Of The Ferguson Decision”
For the next five days we would have circular conversations surrounding the blatant and unending ignorance blinging from our phones via Facebook. As we rolled by the sugar cane fields on the road to Natchez, hugging the border of the Mississippi River, one of us would periodically look up from our screen to announce yet another mind-melting post from some distant white “friend” who felt the need to comment on one of our posts.
“You guys,” my mother groaned, “You will not believe what Christen White just said to me.”
“Her name is Christen White? Oh God, what did she say?”
“This woman… god help her… had the nerve to tell me this has something — anything — to do with Black-on-Black violence. Oh oh oh oh, here’s a quote: ‘nine times out of ten, it’s black men who are killing each other.‘”
“Where the fuck did she get that statistic? Oh, Mom, you have to ask her where she heard that. No wait, I got it, I got it. I’m gonna tell her.”
Normally, I don’t make a habit of getting into arguments with people on the Internet, but when people who are normally ideologically aligned with me decide to make their ignorance and thinly veiled paternalism known without invitation, I just… erghhhh.