*~*

I WILL !!! I WILL DO THAT

some of my favourite indigenous artists, in no particular order:

Inuit artists:

the jerry cans (esp their album Inuusiq)

beatrice deer

twin flames

Māori artists:

jordyn with a why

Indigenous australian artists:

tilly tjala thomas (i particularly love ngai yurlku nhiina)

kardajala kirridarra (srlsly check out ngajabu (Grandmother's Song))

And one of her own:

Oh and of course there's also the HU and Bloodywood for people who like more rock and metal mixed in:

Darkaside is a Papuan metal band

Shepherds Reign is a Samoan metal band

Lenin Tamayo, Quechua pop singer.

And of course I can't not add Mari Boine (Sámi) to a post like this:

And Arvvas, who I think have moved on to other things but did mashups of Sámi traditional singing and jazz:

Before this crisis, I was a Computer Engineering graduate from the Islamic University of Gaza. I had a house, a car, a promising career, and a life full of dreams. Now, I am a brother carrying the heavy responsibility of keeping my entire family alive.

I sacrificed absolutely everything before turning to this campaign. I spent my entire life savings and sold every single thing I owned, including my laptop. Out of pure desperation to feed my family, I took a grueling heavy-lifting job that my body couldn't handle. My back broke under the weight, leaving me hospitalized for an entire month.

Today, I am broken and in agonizing pain inside a tent, unable to even stand up on my own feet.

I feel completely helpless because my campaign is moving extremely slow—it doesn't even cover the cost of basic food for my family right now. We are starving, and the slow support is leaving us stranded on the brink of survival.

Please, do not look away from our agony. Your donations are our only way to eat and stay safe. If you cannot donate, please share my story. You are truly our last remaining hope 🙏😭🥀💔😔

By Langston Hughes

Let America be America again.

Let it be the dream it used to be.

Let it be the pioneer on the plain

Seeking a home where he himself is free.

(America never was America to me.)

Let America be the dream the dreamers dreamed—

Let it be that great strong land of love

Where never kings connive nor tyrants scheme

That any man be crushed by one above.

(It never was America to me.)

O, let my land be a land where Liberty

Is crowned with no false patriotic wreath,

But opportunity is real, and life is free,

Equality is in the air we breathe.

(There’s never been equality for me,

Nor freedom in this “homeland of the free.”)

Say, who are you that mumbles in the dark?

And who are you that draws your veil across the stars?

I am the poor white, fooled and pushed apart,

I am the Negro bearing slavery’s scars.

I am the red man driven from the land,

I am the immigrant clutching the hope I seek—

And finding only the same old stupid plan

Of dog eat dog, of mighty crush the weak.

I am the young man, full of strength and hope,

Tangled in that ancient endless chain

Of profit, power, gain, of grab the land!

Of grab the gold! Of grab the ways of satisfying need!

Of work the men! Of take the pay!

Of owning everything for one’s own greed!

I am the farmer, bondsman to the soil.

I am the worker sold to the machine.

I am the Negro, servant to you all.

I am the people, humble, hungry, mean—

Hungry yet today despite the dream.

Beaten yet today—O, Pioneers!

I am the man who never got ahead,

The poorest worker bartered through the years.

Yet I’m the one who dreamt our basic dream

In the Old World while still a serf of kings,

Who dreamt a dream so strong, so brave, so true,

That even yet its mighty daring sings

In every brick and stone, in every furrow turned

That’s made America the land it has become.

O, I’m the man who sailed those early seas

In search of what I meant to be my home—

For I’m the one who left dark Ireland’s shore,

And Poland’s plain, and England’s grassy lea,

And torn from Black Africa’s strand I came

To build a “homeland of the free.”

The free?

Who said the free? Not me?

Surely not me? The millions on relief today?

The millions shot down when we strike?

The millions who have nothing for our pay?

For all the dreams we’ve dreamed

And all the songs we’ve sung

And all the hopes we’ve held

And all the flags we’ve hung,

The millions who have nothing for our pay—

Except the dream that’s almost dead today.

O, let America be America again—

The land that never has been yet—

And yet must be—the land where every man is free.

The land that’s mine—the poor man’s, Indian’s, Negro’s, ME—

Who made America,

Whose sweat and blood, whose faith and pain,

Whose hand at the foundry, whose plow in the rain,

Must bring back our mighty dream again.

Sure, call me any ugly name you choose—

The steel of freedom does not stain.

From those who live like leeches on the people’s lives,

We must take back our land again,

America!

O, yes,

I say it plain,

America never was America to me,

And yet I swear this oath—

America will be!

Out of the rack and ruin of our gangster death,

The rape and rot of graft, and stealth, and lies,

We, the people, must redeem

The land, the mines, the plants, the rivers.

The mountains and the endless plain—

All, all the stretch of these great green states—

Shousetsu Bang*Bang Issue 121: The Great Outdoors

cover by melanofly

~*~

Fine Wine, by spicy-wrenegade *

There Stands The Grass, by Togi Kayako (土宜草子)

Kindling, by Iron Eater *

Casting Pearls, by Greta Jia-Kang Cabrel

Landscape with Oak and Irritated Traveler, by shukyou *

Lakeshore Delights, by Rey Rider *

Big Girl Words, by Etienne Telling

I shelter you with my branches. I taste my fruit on your tongue., by Devin Ambrosia *

Summer Skin, by ChibiSaboten

This New Season, by Rowan York

On the Wall, by Shirozubon Saruko

*illustrated

—

The Fisherwoman’s Prize, by serenity_winner

~*~

Welcome to Shousetsu Bang*Bang International Park! Shousetsu Bang*Bang, better known by the acronym “SSBB”, is the world’s oldest (that we know of) international park dedicated entirely to the cultivation and preservation of original queer smut.

Since 2005, SSBB has gathered over 12 million words of endangered and threatened erotica, protecting them and making them accessible so that visitors from around the globe can continue to enjoy them for internet generations to come. We believe that a diverse ecosystem is a healthy ecosystem, and that a healthy ecosystem is one allowed to flourish wherever it feels most comfortable, which means you won’t find artificial divisions between biomes or rigid gatekeeping of ecotones here.

Instead, here in our pages, you’ll encounter majestic work-unsafe sights featuring a vibrant array of genders, bodies, identities, relationships, genitals, and kinks, all in their natural habitats. We encourage you to start at the beginning of the issue and follow the path as you venture through its contents, taking things as they come and letting yourself be surprised by what you might encounter. Of course, some guests may choose to curate their own experiences, and that’s fine too! What matters is the relationship you cultivate with what you find here.

Supported by an army of volunteers, SSBB has managed to keep its doors open and admission completely free for over two decades now. If you’d like to know what it takes to be an SSBB Rainbow Ranger, check out our upcoming themes and dates or visit our Discord to chat with other volunteers! We’re always looking for new recruits as we continue our living out our mission by giving writers and artists a space to share original works featuring queer love stories and happy endings!

And as you visit these beautiful lands, remember the SSBB hiker’s creed:

Take nothing but inspiration

Leave nothing but comments

Tell all your friends

—

I interviewed someone that was detained at Delaney Hall in New Jersey while being lost in ICE’s detention system.