Portrait of the Artist, suddenly struck with melancholy over the fleeting nature of life and how that is beautiful and sad. Artist is also applying sunscreen.
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getting scambot messages from random accounts that clearly used to be normal active blogs is sad enough. you know that there used to be a real person on that blog until they were tricked into handing their password to the digital fae.
but it's an entirely new level of tragic when somebody you've actually spoken to gets turned into a bot account. it's like peeking at a zombie apocalypse through the window and realizing one of the shambling corpses was your friend.
and then the zombie catches sight of you, lurches up to your window, and shouts through the glass that they accidentally reported your account to tumblr and you'll be deactivated unless you click this link.
RIP to the blog that used to DM me to tell me they liked my new chapters. Their last known words spoken before being turned, 17 hours ago: "Ggs!" They were praising someone's deadlift.
the message they tried to get me with is probably the same message that got them, so for anybody who hasn't already been warned about the signs of a zombie account:
if you get something like this ↑ they're gonna follow up by instructing you to contact tumblr support on discord and give you contact info; or they're gonna link a website that looks sort of like tumblr support and say you have to email them; or any variety of "you must now contact tumblr, here is how you contact tumblr."
whatever they send you, it Does Not lead to tumblr. it leads to the master zombie that bit them and inducted them into the ranks of the undead, and will bite you the second they have your email and password. i might be confusing zombies and vampires. anyway,
it's easier to fall for these messages because the blog doesn't LOOK like a bot blog, because it ISN'T a bot blog. it's a normal person's blog that got accessed by a bot, meaning the blog's content CLEARLY looks like a real active user when you click on it. and yes—it might even be a blog you already know. sometimes bots like this go down a blog's DMs or reblogs and message people they've previously interacted with.
they got one of my treasured followers, and they can get you too. don't fall for their tricks. know the signs.
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You should buy many things from @graycatatelier but in case you didn’t know, for just $8 you can purchase a print of literally Anzu or any of these other creatures. What a steal what a deal!
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under US law, it's illegal for anyone who's not a member of a recognised native tribe to own an eagle feather. the penalty is a $100,000 fine.
14 years ago when I had recently moved to Alaska, I went hiking with an Aleut friend, and she pointed to a feather lying on the ground and said "hey that's a bald eagle tail feather, you should grab it!" and I was like "uhh I'm very white and that's very illegal" and she went "they're fuckin everywhere up here man. I have 20." so she grabs it off the ground and hands it to me and says "there, now it's a ceremonial gift from an indigenous person."
and I'm like, okay, cool, I guess this is how we do things in Alaska. nice.
so I keep this bald eagle tail feather around for years. display it in my home among other cherished memorabilia from places I've lived and visited, etc.
on a whim, I have just now looked it up. there is no exemption to that law for a ceremonial gift from an indigenous person. the last 7 years I lived in the US, I was technically a bald eagle poacher.
probably a good thing I don't intend to move back there anytime soon. I wonder what the statute of limitations is on bird crimes.
@freedomisscaryshit I'm fucking dying I think you forgot the word "feathers" in your tags?? or do you just wish you could grab whole ass eagles that land in your yard??
As an Indigenous person, it continues to astound me that there are such strict laws (written by White people) in our name, laws against...picking up things just found on the ground. Like, stop pretending this is "for" us. We don't want this.
so, for clarity, that's not what this is. the law against possessing feathers is an anti-poaching measure, derived from a North American treaty protecting certain migratory bird species from hunting. that treaty has an exemption for indigenous people to allow tribes that use eagle feathers in ceremonial or religious practices to continue doing so.
i used to collect feathers (illegally) as a teenager and the thing is that it's incredibly important for feathers from wild birds to be illegal to possess because it ensures that they never become fashionable to wear. the reason we passed the migratory bird act was because the american and european fashion industry was driving species to extinction in a timespan of years. not just decades. the ecological devastation of exporting birds for hats was absolutely insane and people were watching wetlands and forests and meadows just empty out in realtime. look at the wikipedia article for the plume trade.
the law against 'picking feathers up off the ground' means that you can't go shoot an eagle then sell the feathers on etsy by saying you 'just found them'. you can't own them no matter where they came from, which makes sure that they're not going to come from any birds killed and then secretly disposed of.
these laws, as harsh and ridiculous as they seem, saved flamingos, spoonbills, egrets, and all kinds of hawks and eagles from extinction. the minute these laws weaken and people can make money off killing them again, they're fucked.
This is good! I want to add some stuff here about the general economics angle and the specifics of when this law came into effect, because people are talking about capitalism and conservation but nobody is really talking about the hat industry of the late 19th and early 20th centuries.
But TLDR:
People were buying and selling HUMAN BONES by claiming they were legally obtained, you think they won't do the same with bird feathers if there's any wiggle room?
Anyway, here's a longer thing:
Hats were a big deal in the late 19th/early 20th century. They were a way of showcasing status and wealth: if you had rare, expensive, gaudy feathers on there, you were important.
So they were in high demand, such high demand that many rare native species were hunted to extinction, or near it. This isn't purely a North American issue, but the law we're discussing is specific to North America.
For that reason, it's not "there are such strict laws (written by White people) in our name," as a previous poster said, but "there are such strict laws written to protect native species, with a carve-out for religious purposes that are most common to indigenous peoples." Indigenous peoples got a loophole in honor of their historic practices, but the law was very much about the birds. The eagle feather law, which is the part that mentions indigenous tribes, is the exceptions clause, not the migratory bird act as a whole, and there are also international treaties for this.
The United States Fish and Wildlife Service issues permits for otherwise prohibited activities under the act. These include permits for taxidermy, falconry, propagation, scientific and educational use, and depredation, an example of the last being the killing of geese near an airport, where they pose a danger to aircraft. (src)
I know people hate econ/business theory on the hellsite, but consumer psychology is CRUCIAL to understanding shit sometimes. This law was in response to excesses of the gilded age! Now, in a time of microtrends that are picked up by millions of people at a time, is like the WORST time to remove it!
Let me tell you about the Great Auk.
Once in a while, people ask why there aren't any penguins in the arctic, the way they are in the antarctic, what would happen if they introduced penguins to the arctic, how long would it take for penguins to evolve to fill that role?
The real answer, mostly, is that there was. That niche in the arctic used to have a species to fill it, which was called the Great Auk.
It was similarly sized to a penguin, similarly shaped. It had very, very good down for pillows: see here.
If you come for their Feathers you do not give yourself the trouble of killing them, but lay hold of one and pluck the best of the Feathers. You then turn the poor Penguin adrift, with his skin half naked and torn off, to perish at his leasure. This is not a very humane method but it is the common practize.
- Aaron Thomas of HMS Boston from 1794, via wikipedia
The bird went extinct by 1850. It's not the only one to have been specifically hunted to extinction (as opposed to the more common habitat destruction), but along with the passenger pigeon, is one of the most notable and obvious examples of that. Plume hunting for just feathers and not the actual meat or other attributes is a whole thing
So that's the cause of the act: past overhunting in pursuit of, mostly, plumage.
But why the phrasing?
In the world of the wealthy, there is a general love for expensive, rare goods as status symbols. There is a trade for the eggs and meat and skin of endangered species, wanting to say you ate or wore something so rare that it was illegal, but you had the money to make it happen, had the money to pay the fines.
Imagine there is a bird with plumage as vibrant and identifiable as a peacock, but infinitely rarer. Just a few dozen in the wild. Just one feather sells for a thousand dollars.
You could go out, spend days trying to find dropped feathers... or you could catch and kill one, and get a good two dozen feathers out of it. Almost twenty-five thousand dollars, right there, and without the act, then so long as nobody knows that you killed the bird, it's perfectly legal to have, and sell, that feather.
Poaching is hard to prove. You can say you found the feathers on the ground. You can say you found an already-dead bird half-eaten by the predator that killed it. It's easy to lie.
Or... you can make it illegal to even have the feather. You don't need to prove poaching if it's straight up illegal to have; you just have to prove ownership.
There are exceptions to this rule: if the animal is domesticated and farmed, then you can buy and sell the feathers all you want. This is why you can get goosedown pillows and feather quills, quail eggs and pheasant tails for hat plumes, peacock feathers at the fabric shop, or turkey breasts on the market.
You can also collect as many feathers as you'd like from invasive species, like house sparrows, common pheasants, or starlings. Sometimes you get the double-wammy of the species being both domesticated and invasive, like rock doves/pigeons. You can jsut grab one. Just grab an entire pigeon. I hear it's not that hard.
But there are some very pretty, very vibrant birds out there that are native to North America and could easily become endangered if it were legal to 'just happen to find and keep' the feathers. Top of mind for me are blue jays and cardinals.
Imagine if it was suddenly really hip to wear a fascinator with cardinal feathers. Imagine if a microtrend the size of labubus hit that was entirely about bluejay feathers. Imagine if that happened and you did not have protections in place for native species.
You, yes you personally, might genuinely find and want to keep a singular feather that you found. But you can't ignore that the market forces that have people poaching anything else will also apply to birds. Elephants and rhinos hunted for their tusks? We (general we for humans) made that illegal with narrow and heavily controlled exceptions. Beavers hunted for their furs? We made that illegal so that the populations could recover. Snowy egrets hunted for their feathers?
You make that illegal so it doesn't die out like the Great Auk did.
Sidebar about the baleen trade also!
You can buy it. You can legally buy baleen and products made of it. You cannot SELL it unless you're native
Because it's difficult to claim you just "found" baleen, it's a lot easier to produce a chain of acquisitions. If you want, say, a professionally made corset with real whalebone, you need to buy the baleen yourself and then commission someone to make the corset, but they cannot make the corset using baleen they bought unless they are native
That stuff is expensive because of the acquisition costs! You are unlikely to dispose of any kind of certificate of authenticity by accident.
You can't even buy feathers from a native person, because, among other things, that acquisition process would rarely be recorded with the kind of specificity that you'd need to be able to ENFORCE that.
You'd have people "finding" feathers and asking a native buddy to sign off on it being legally obtained, because people do that with other shit. If there is ANY gap in the law that doesn't require extensive paperwork (religious exemption to use feathers) or paper trail (whale parts), people will sneak through.
new updated drive with psych abolition resources! it’s sorted into folders for specific subtopics for things like harm reduction, different types of support, disability justice readings, mad liberation zines, etc. it’s not complete yet—there’s a bunch more resources I want to add once I’m at my laptop again but wanted to share now!
I've been meaning to make a post talking about my stroke because y'all got bits and pieces of the recovery but I never actually told the story of HOW it went down and the thing is the type of stroke I had is usually the type young people have and since having mine i've now heard multiple stories of people under 40 having very similar strokes and the scary thing is, is that they didn't get help right away. Because you're young and healthy and sure you feel weird but it'll pass right? but it doesn't, and it gets worse, and by the time you get to the hospital (some people literally take days to go) the deficits are worse and recovery is harder.
so here's a super long post about strokes in general, and mine in particular/what I went through.
So for strokes the signs are abbreviated BE FAST. Balance loss, Eyesight changes, Face drooping, Arm weakness, Speech difficulty, -> Time to call 911.
Had I known those MAYBE I would have figured it out but my symptoms were a little mixed. I was reading (fanfic!) in bed because it was a sunday morning and i had nothing pressing to do and suddenly got dizzy. I put my laptop aside because my eyes were blurring (Eyesight changes - symptom #1), and laid down, thinking it would pass, it didn't, it's a little vague how it progressed because I'd been having headaches and neckpain for about 3 weeks leading up to it so I was like 'idk is this a migraine?' (headaches can be a stroke symptom so symptom #2) but i got nauseous and eventually got up and to my utmost surprise I immediately fell over as if I was the drunkest of frat bros. The room literally spun before my eyes as I fell to the floor (Balance loss - symptom #3). I have had some Nights and I had never been that unsteady before. I crawled my way to the bathroom, threw up (nausea - not a common stroke symptom) , took 800mg of ibuprofen, and crawled back to bed.
if you know anything about ibuprofen you might know it's a mild blood thinner and that's a high dose. I may have inadvertently helped myself with that one. I was just feeling like shit and thinking 'idk this might help'
At this point I still thought we were still in Normal Land. Sure, it was a weird morning, but Surely There Was A Reason. (Yes There Was) Anyway, as I'm lying there willing my body to stop suffering I realize my arm is going numb (stroke symptom #4) and I switch positions, because weird, but it doesn't go away, and I gave it a good little while. I'm on a medication that can make my limbs tingle but it usually just does it to my fingers and it dissipates quickly but this wasn't dissipating, and then I realized one of my legs was also going numb. Then one side of my face is going numb.
(at the time I did not look in the mirror but I had a drooping eyelid - symptom #5)
Those all seem bad. I grab my computer and google 'when to go to the hospital for dizzyness' as that felt like the worst of my problems. and indeed the list I found highlighted that if you are also experiencing loss of balance, blurred vision, nausea, and limb numbness, you should see a doctor. That seems like far too many symptoms to be having all to be listed. I grab my phone (thankfully plugged in and by my bed), and start layering on more clothing because it's about 10 degrees out and i'm in a pajama dress. The very nice man at 911 talks with me and sends an ambulance, I tell him I don't think I can get out the front door of my building on my own and he asks if I can get to MY apartment door to which I say yes and he assures me that's fine they will have keys to my building.
(I have been since informed they love to chop down doors but no, I could get that far)
I wait by my door laying down on the ground and they arrive pretty quickly. They see to me in the hallway, which is more of a lobby in my building and the only place with room for me to lie down (I cannot stand unassisted at this point) they ask me a bunch of questions, take vitals, and ask me where I would like to be taken. Me, having never had to go to the fucking hospital in an emergency before, simply go 'wherever is close' because I again, I am having a stroke and do not have the wherewithal to think through these things.
A big firefighter helps me down the stairs (it's only a half flight and I still almost did not make it) and we get underway.
At the hospital they wheel me into triage and I mostly lie there gratefully and answer some questions and respond to some tests (grip strength, following a pen with my eyes, that sort of thing) and then I hear what is great when you've been at urgent care for two hours but what is Very Bad when you just arrived in an ambulance and that's 'She's next'. I jumped the line for a CT scan and an MRI. I was there less than ten minutes before I was actively being scanned. honestly closer to five.
my active symptoms seem to have been worse than some of the stories I've heard, not being able to walk AT ALL in particular, although some other are pretty equal (Footless Jo on youtube had a stroke around the same time I did of the same type and has discussed hers, she delayed going in despite the severity for a variety of reasons and it sounds like her recovery has been difficult) My recovery was pretty easy because i was actively being cared for and on blood thinners right away. I was pretty out of it in the beginning, but I was only in the hospital for 6 days and then in a rehab for another 4 to relearn how to walk and balance, then i was released unto the world and just spent time going to physical therapy and recovering for awhile. I was out of work for about 8 weeks total. I basically had the best outcome for a stroke. I recovered almost fully back to 100% (I'm about 2% less sure footed than I used to be, but it's rarely noticeable), my face still feels a little weird but has markedly improved so I live in hope it will eventually get back to normal. It massively sucked. But strokes can fuck you up for life and I came out a weird medical story to tell and have to take some extra medication now/precautions to take (i cannot do certain types of yoga, no weightlifting, no push ups, no going on rollercoasters.... things that could strain my neck essentially) but overall I escaped very lucky.
I’m going to level with you. I have listened to The Devil Went Down to Georgia for most of my life. We were a country music household, this was a staple of my childhood along with Johnny Cash, Garth Brooks, and that one Chipmunks country album.
I have no idea what “Fire on the mountain run boys run/The Devil's in the house of the rising sun/Chicken in the bread pan picking out dough/Granny does your dog bite no child no” means and at this point I’m too scared to ask.
this is the key part of the song, that a lot of people miss. people have this misconception that the contest between Johnny and The Devil is about who is the better fiddle player. but it isn't. its about who is the better fiddler.
in a time before things like radios and record players, every time you heard music was because there was somebody in the room with you playing an instrument. and many, many, many social events involved dancing, which requires music. so, if you're planning any kind of gathering in the american south or appalachia, you need to find a fiddler. and the fiddler's job is to play music that everybody knows and likes and can dance to.
the mistake The Devil makes in his bet with Johnny is that he misinterprets the contest as being about technical ability, so he has this big flashy song. he plays fast and impressively with a band of demons playing unfamiliar instruments in unfamiliar rhythms. he's definitely more skilled at playing than Johnny, and thinks he has it in the bag.
but Johnny wins because the contest is about being the best fiddler. the song uses these lines mentioned above as a shorthand for saying that Johnny is playing these songs. Johnny launches into a set of the most popular songs, played well, and that's what gives him his big win. A good fiddler knows all the hits, and can read the room to know what to play next. The Devil loses because he completely fails to read the room, and doesn't know the right songs.
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Reminder that chronic migraines aren't all "headaches." For some people migraines are just sudden attacks of basically any shitty symptoms imaginable depending on the person. Your "migraine" might be a sudden onset of extreme tiredness, temperature sensitivity, confusion and blurry vision, another person's might look like a panic attack or even a heart attack, some people experience hallucinations, become hypersensitive to smells, have to urinate a weird amount, feel numb in their fingers, flu symptoms, stroke-like symptoms, dissociation, allergy symptoms, literally anything because a "migraine" is just when your brain explodes with overactivity and sets off a bunch of pathways at once that it's not supposed to, like a computer in a power surge.
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