Kookie's Witchy Blog

if you list your split attraction model shit, kins, 10 separate sets of neopronouns you better fucking list your race. this goes for all people obviously but especially whites.

your race 1000% effects how you perceive gender and interact with the lgbt community.

i dont fucking understand how whites on this site say shit like “cishets don’t interact” (which is valid and i get it! i understand) but don’t even list their race for poc who don’t want to interact w white people.

PLEASE stop using your lgbt microidentities to distance yourself from your whiteness.

also whites w microidentities: you are not more oppressed than binary trans (or i might argue, even cis lgb poc). you will never understand gender in the same way as people of color. you will never be as radical as even some cis people of color. this is b/c gender as we know it today is a colonial construct. cis people of color are effected by this colonial construct because you guys colonized us with it. the gender binary (also the sex binary/”””biological sex”””, which doesn’t exist) is a white supremacist, colonizing system that oppresses black women, especially trans black women, the hardest.

If you dare come at me about banning straws, I will throw you into the sun cannon. I’m disabled, I’m crippled, I need disposable plastic straws, and all those pricey ridiculous alternatives aren’t working as well. Plastic straws were invented for the disabled.

Way to shit all over a vital access need because you think straws are worse than corporate greed.

We all care about the turtles, the seals, the oceans, obviously. Notice how the easiest thing to yell about was something that would barely affect anything but appealed heavily to emotional discourse.

The disabled community is huge, and it can be joined by anyone. Most of those As Seen On TV products were invented for us. Society still mocks us and ignores us, and often outright harms us in multiple ways.

https://news.nationalgeographic.com/2018/03/great-pacific-garbage-patch-plastics-environment/

Let me tell you what I know about this after living here for more than thirty years.

This is a modern European country, the home of hot net startups, of Internet giants and (in some places, some very few places) the fastest broadband on Earth. People here live in this century, HARD.

Yet they get nervous about walking up that one hill close to their home after dark, because, you know… stuff happens there.

I know this because Peter and I live next to One Of Those Hills. There are people in our locality who wouldn’t go up our tiny country road on foot on a dark night for love or money. What they make of us being so close to it for so long without harm coming to us, I have no idea. For all I know, it’s ascribed to us being writers (i.e. sort of bards) or mad folk (also traditionally thought by some to be in some kind of positive relationship with the Dangerous Side) or otherwise somehow weirdly exempt.

And you know what? I’m never going to ask. Because one does not discuss such things. Lest people from outside get the wrong idea about us, about normal modern Irish people living in normal modern Ireland.

You hear about this in murmurs, though, in the pub, late at night, when all the tourists have gone to bed or gone away and no one but the locals are around. That hill. That curve in the road. That cold feeling you get in that one place. There is a deep understanding—rarely if ever more clearly articulated—that there is something here older than us, that doesn’t care about us particularly, that (when we obtrude on it) is as willing to kick us in the slats as to let us pass by unmolested.

So you greet the magpies, singly or otherwise. You let stones in the middle of fields be. You apologize to the hawthorn bush when you’re pruning it. If you see something peculiar that cannot be otherwise explained, you are polite to it and pass onward about your business without further comment. And you don’t go on about it afterwards. Because it’s… unwise. Not that you personally know any examples of people who’ve screwed it up, of course. But you don’t meddle, and you learn when to look the other way; not to see, not to hear. Some things have just been here (for various values of “here” and various values of “been”) a lot longer than you have, and will be here still after you’re gone. That’s the way of it. When you hear the story about the idiots who for a prank chainsawed the centuries-old fairy tree a couple of counties over, you say—if asked by a neighbor—exactly what they’re probably thinking: “Poor fuckers. They’re doomed.” And if asked by anybody else you shake your head and say something anodyne about Kids These Days. (While thinking DOOMED all over again, because there are some particularly self-destructive ways to increase entropy.)

Meanwhile, in Iceland: the county council that carelessly knocked a known elf rock off a hillside when repairing a road has had to go dig the rock up from where it got buried during construction, because that road has had the most impossible damn stuff happen to it since that you ever heard of. Doubtless some nice person (maybe they’ll send out for the Priest of Thor or some such) will come along and do a little propitiatory sacrifice of some kind to the alfar, belatedly begging their pardon for the inconvenience.

They’re building the alfar a new temple, too.

If someone invites you out to the farm for the night, city kids, follow some rules. You don’t go anywhere without the person who owns the land, I fucking mean it. You don’t go in the hog shed. You don’t go in the barn. You especially. Don’t. Go in. The timber. Some of this is benign stuff- you will get lost in the timber. The hogs will try to eat you (I’m not fucking kidding). You get stuck in a corn silo and you will drown in the corn. Still not kidding.

But the land generally respects its tenders, especially if it’s an old family farm. I’m telling you that it does not respect you. If you go in the barn by yourself you won’t be the only thing in there. The cows will not be kind to you if you fall. The timber is full of stuff older and more angry than you.

Sometimes it doesn’t matter if the owner is with you. You don’t go into the timber at night. You don’t go into the corn fields at night. YOU. DON’T. CROSS. OR SWIM IN. THE CREEK. AT NIGHT.

In Iowa, our whole state is fed by the rivers and creeks. The Des Moines, the Mississippi, the Missouri, the Cedar, the Sioux; Every river and creek binds this land together. If you can help it, you don’t cross bridges over them at night. You don’t go down to the shore. You definitely don’t fucking swim in them. Something takes offense to it. I’ve never crossed the bridge between my hometown and the town my partner lives in without feeling as though I was tottering on a very precarious edge.

Elistist “trad” witch: Um ExCuSe Me?!? NO!! you have to have a circle and call the corners and your gods and goddesses! If has to take time, a lot of time!!!! and you have to do it exacyly like this *holds up instructions* and wear certain robes! Use only these crystals and herbs do NOT use or substitute anything else!!! Doing anything different is bad and fake!!!!! You have to only use our type of magic or youre wrong!!

Also me: another fun magic is to get some rocks and throw them to release certain feelings about something

I’ve seen a lot of posts on my dash tonight about users who are threatening suicide, with other Tumblr members posting in effort to try to get ahold of them. I think you all should see this:

IF THERE IS EVER A TUMBLR USER WHO HAS POSTED A GOOD-BYE MESSAGE, SUICIDE NOTE, VIDEO, OR ANYTHING OF THE SORT, PLEASE FOLLOW THIS POST.

1. Scroll to the top of your dashboard.

2. See the circular question mark icon at the top? It’s the third one over from your home symbol. Click on that, and a screen similar to the one in the picture will come up.

3. Where you can type in questions, the box with the magnifying glass at the top, type in the word “suicide.”

4. Click on the first link that shows up. It should say, “Pass the URL of the blog on to us.”

5. Type in the user’s URL and tell Tumblr admin that the user is contemplating suicide and has posted a message indicating that they are going through with it or will be attempting. Hit send! Tumblr administration will perform a number of actions to contact the user and take the necessary steps to prevent the suicide.

TUMBLR: THIS COULD SAVE A USER’S LIFE. PLEASE DO NOT IGNORE SUICIDE THREATS.

help.