Social Justice Úlfheðinn

From Wikipedia:

Nuestra Señora de la Santa Muerte (Spanish for Our Lady of Holy Death), often shortened to Santa Muerte, is a female deity or folk saint in Mexican and Mexican-American folk Catholicism. A personification of death, she is associated with healing, protection, and safe delivery to the afterlife by her devotees. Despite condemnation by the Catholic Church, her cult has become increasingly prominent since the 2000s.

The worship of Santa Muerte is condemned by the Catholic Church in Mexico as invalid, but it is increasingly firmly entrenched in Mexican culture.

Santa Muerte is also seen as a protector of homosexual, bisexual, and transgender communities in Mexico, since many are considered to be outcast from society. Many LGBT people ask her for protection from violence, hatred, disease, and to help them in their search for love.

Her intercession is commonly invoked in same-sex marriage ceremonies performed in Mexico. The Iglesia Católica Tradicional México-Estados Unidos, also known as the Church of Santa Muerte, recognizes gay marriage and performs religious wedding ceremonies for homosexual couples.

Terrify regular weaklings (Intimidation)

If I can, I always opt to ditch my name tag in a dementia care environment. I let my friends with dementia decide what my name is: I’ve been Susan, Gwendolyn, and various peoples’ kids. I’ve been so many identities to my residents, too: a coworker, a boss, a student, a sibling, a friend from home, and more. 

Don’t ask your friend with dementia if they “remember your name” — especially if that person is your parent, spouse, or other family member. It’s quite likely to embarrass them if they can’t place you, and, frankly, it doesn’t really matter what your name is. What matters is how they feel about you.

Here’s my absolute favorite story about what I call, “Timeline Confusion”:

Alicia danced down the hallway, both hands steadily on her walker. She moved her hips from side to side, singing a little song, and smiled at everyone she passed. Her son, Nick, was walking next to her.

Nick was probably one of the best caregivers I’d ever met. It wasn’t just that he visited his mother often, it was how he visited her. He was patient and kind—really, he just understood dementia care. He got it.

Alicia was what I like to call, “pleasantly confused.” She thought it was a different year than it was, liked to sing and dance, and generally enjoyed her life.

One day, I approached the pair as they walked quietly down the hall. Alicia smiled and nodded at everyone she passed, sometimes whispering a, “How do you do!”

“Hey, Alicia,” I said. “We’re having a piano player come in to sing and play music for us. Would you like to come listen?”

“Ah, yes!” she smiled back. “My husband is a great singer,” she said, motioning to her son.

Nick smiled and did not correct her. He put his hand gently on her shoulder and said to me, “We’ll be over there soon.”

I saw Nick again a few minutes later while his mom was occupied with some other residents. “Nick,” I said. “Does your mom usually think that you’re her husband?”

Nick said something that I’ll never forget.

“Sometimes I’m me, sometimes I’m my brother, sometimes I’m my dad, and sometimes I’m just a friend. But she always knows that she loves me,” he smiled.

Nick had nailed it. He understood that, because his mom thought it was 1960, she would have trouble placing him on a timeline.

He knew that his mom recognized him and he knew that she loved him. However, because of her dementia, she thought it was a different year. And, in that year, he would’ve been a teenager.

Using context clues (however mixed up the clues were) Alicia had determined that Nick was her husband: he was the right age, he sure sounded and looked like her husband, and she believed that her son was a young man.

This is the concept that I like to call timeline confusion. It’s not that your loved one doesn’t recognize you, it’s that they can’t place you on a timeline.

i know tumblr doesn’t give a SHIT when things happen in countries outside the “most popular ones” (such as the usa & england). it’s true, don’t lie to me. y’all don’t give A FUCK. not every issue and problem in said countries gets the appropriate exposure but in general shit shows up on the news WORLD FREAKING  WIDE. you set up donations, you help out, your spread the word, you say “pray for x”……

southern europe is burning. 

my country is burning.

people are dying - at home, on the road, trying to run away, in their cars.

yesterday my country had 300 active fires.

people are losing EVERYTHING they own.

i have a friend that is on a train right now passing through places that have been burnt to the ground and she says the smoke is so intense it’s getting inside the train and she can barely breathe.

and yet, even though several people (myself included) have been trying to bring awareness to what has been happening in southern europe… what we get from most of you, those not part of the countries suffering, is silence. we don’t ask for money, we don’t ask for shit other than a reblog to spread awareness… something you can delete in 24/48hrs if you wish. 

i don’t know what to tell you. i’m angry. i’m frustrated. i’m disappointed. i feel like i’m screaming into the void. “a reblog does nothing” - you know that’s a damn lie, you know exposure always helps, you know people start paying attention when posts on social media become popular. my country in particular is a small one, we get ZERO exposure. y’all are only starting to figure out we even fucking exist bc of the shit we’ve been winning lately. 

but hell, if the EU doesn’t give a shit, why should some user on tumblr dot com?

again, i don’t know what to tell you so i’ll let the images speak for themselves: 

An image captured by a Nasa satellite shows a thick plume of smoke blowing southward from the Greek island of Chios over the island of Crete

Torneros de Jamuz, Spain

Duca, Croatia

A helicopter from Italy’s civil protection service drops water on a fire near the railway between Venice and Trieste

Residents take refuge on the beach as a wildfire burns on the mountain next to the village of Lithi, on the Greek island of Chios

Men gather cattle during a forest fire in Vieira de Leiria, Marinha Grande, Portugal.

Charred trees are seen on the hills above the Cloister of Thivaidas on Mount Athos, a World Heritage Site in Greece

Portugal

Ha ha…

Ha.

Hm.

“There’s good news?”

“The wiring itself is pretty good.”

“It’s just been installed by a madman?”

“…yep, that uh, that about sums it up.”

I for one am a huge believer in direct action and just making the changes we want to see instead of asking the powerful to implement them.

Because yeah, direct action can be very dangerous. But it’s a good thing some people are willing to do dangerous things to change the world. Because you know what else is very dangerous? Letting nazis organize. Allowing weapon transports to pass. Allowing border fences to stand. These things are deadly. And conversations or petitions are never going to stop them. Pretty much the only time governments do what nice activists want is when they’re worried about what the not-so-nice activists will do if they don’t change a thing. 

So I would respond to the need for safety not with inaction but with prepared action and security culture. Which means shit like cover your face, don’t bring your phone, have a getaway plan, make your plans offline, understand how modern surveillance techniques work, gather intel on nazis before deciding who to punch, never brag about what you did, leave out that comrade that can’t punch nazis without bragging about it, have a good lawyer to back you up if things do go wrong. And more.

When I got caught lifting and my backpack had been left behind (with identifying information and my medications), I ran to my friend’s house who I know lifts and got a ride elsewhere. And I ended up getting things back through careful planning, but the fact is that I made a mistake. I make mistakes in the moment but planning is where I shine. I can see a potential landmine problem a mile away and come up with a patch/remedy or alternative plan.

Also: 

High stress actions become easier with time and slow build up. Jumping into a high stress action without experience can knock you off your feet. It takes time to build resilience. 

Having a solid base in your life (supportive friends, a safe home, a rhythm that involves enough sleep and good food, time for yourself, creative outlets, etc) is an important part of being able to do high stress activism. 

Having a good safety net on the day of the action (like a coördinator team, a legal team, a medic team and a psych help team)  is an important part of being able to do high stress activism.

Information and training go a long way. Knowing what to expect when arrested makes it easier to take risks that might result in arrest. Crossing a police line together to retrieve an arrested comrade is a highly coordinated move that can be done if it is trained properly.

The best way to train, exchange information, create safe lines of communication and take care of each other before, during and after an action is to form an affinity group

Always have at least one protest buddy. 

If there’s too many people out for graffiti? Hand out some zines or fliers. Too many cops at a demo to realistically evict Nazis? Record some license plates & get some pictures.

Remember that there more to direct action than violence and that every action must be prepared for appropriately. Do do something stupid but make sure you do SOMETHING.

I was willing to let the “we must secure” headline go as an accident.  Maybe.  It’s horribly tone deaf, and possible that it wasn’t checked, and I could conceivably believe that it was an accidental co-incidence that happened while writing a statement that was already pretty racist and idiotic…  Maybe.  Like, a 1 in 5 chance that it wasn’t deliberate…

But that “fewer than 13 out of every 88″ ?  Fuck no that wasn’t an accident.  That’s not possible.  Whoever wrote that statement is a full on Nazi planting a dogwhistle to his buddies.

No one uses 88 as a basis.  “fewer than 13″ ?  You could just about 1 in 8.  Or give a percentage.  Or give a number out of a hundred ffs…  But no, you use 13/88.  Why?  Because 14/88 is too obvious.  but 13/88 is close enough, so that when you punch it in to your browser to see what % that is, you get https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fourteen_Words as the top hit.

This.  Is.  Insane.

Of lesser insanity is the insane math they use as justification. “U.S. Customs and Border Protection (CBP) apprehends over 1,100 people a day crossing the border illegally. The Department of Homeland Security (DHS) refuses entry to 7 known or suspected terrorists every day, 50 every week, and 2,500 every year.”

 That “out of 88″ was what tipped it for me, then I looked back at the “We Must Secure…” statement, and noticed it was 14 words too. These aren’t accidents, or coincidences.