overpopulation is a capitalist myth. pass it on
housing crises dont just happen. theyre designed.
Everyday people should not take majority of the blame for greenhouse gas emissions
Famines are political, not natural disasters.
some of you were never sold to one direction to pay for your mom’s debt and it shows
Okay but he’s right and he should say it.
“Smart” and “Cloud” also mean data gathering. I need to have a tangent, so pardon me while I run with this…
Here’s the thing: I’m a nerd. I want to be able to automate things in our home and to have usable data. So I want smart electrical plugs that allow me to have rules and show me what’s hooving up a ton of energy. That’s useful to me, but that’s not the bargain that tech companies are willing to strike with me, because they want to be able to gather data and sell it.
What’s annoying as hell is that every currently supported thing that does this wants to be a cloud-based application that requires me to install an app on my phone.
I. Do. Not. Want. This.
I want my plugs on a network so I can flip open a browser on my laptop or phone or tablet and access them that way. I do not want them on or touching the goddamned internet. I do not want an information-gathering-and-data-leaking-phone-app.
The one thing that I’ve found that semi-reliably does this is no longer supported by the manufacturer. Every other goddamned option requires me to have it be app-controlled and I can’t control the data gathering from the manufacturer.
In this case, I am DEFINITELY an old-coot yelling at THE cloud.
Honestly, same. This is one of the few things that I’m glad to be too poor to afford the cool toys on.
Same here. I don’t want my household appliances connected to the cloud. I don’t need my thermostat, fridge, or TV connected to the internet. I absolutely do not something like an Alexa.
“Smart” and “Cloud” also mean data gathering.“
I work(ed) in tech. I have a decent understanding of what sort of data can be harvested through those things. I’m not ready to go off-grid and become a witch that lives in the woods, but there are days when it’s a tempting idea.
Anonymous asked:
I haven’t sold any on my website but I’ve done a commission for a stocking from someone who saw a sign on my dorm and a commission for a hat from my sister and her boyfriend for their friend bc he saw the hat I knit for my sister’s boyfriend
and I have another commission, for the jughead hat from riverdale, on hold bc she keeps forgetting to pay me
some nerd: hey do u know how to read
me (cool and has a skateboard): no
Wow! How can you not read? You typed it LOL.
i have a skateboard
My great-grandmother was pregnant for over a decade of her life.
She was pregnant at least fifteen times, had over a dozen children. Raised all of them in a big rambling farmhouse in central Pennsylvania.
And I thought about her this afternoon, lying in bed with my spouse after my lazy weekend nap, snuggling him and burying my nose in his hair, taking deep breaths of the scent of his skin. This man who is the center of my universe, my best friend, one of two reasons why I literally decided I had to live and kept fighting through the pain after surgery when I really wanted to just let go and die: I held him closer and I thought of her.
I thought of how family myth tells us that after a decade of being pregnant pretty much constantly, she kicked my great-grandfather out of their house. How she made him go live in his workshop, and he came to the house for meals and to check in.
But he slept in his workshop.
Not because she didn’t love him, but because she did.
She loved him, and if they slept in the same bed together, these two people who had crossed an ocean together, had built a life together after getting out of Poland together, they’d have sex. And because cheap, reliable, universal birth control wasn’t available then, and she was terribly fecund, apparently, she’d become pregnant again, inevitably.
My great-grandmother was TIRED of being pregnant.
So she kicked her love out of the house, and he went. He lived in his workshop, on their farm, and they stopped sleeping together, in every sense of the word. My father tells me he remembers as a child his grandfather sitting outside his workshop, leaning back on his chair, and looking up at the house in which he couldn’t sleep anymore, just… sad.
They missed each other desperately from across the yard.
I listen to @adhocavenger sleep, to the sound of his breathing, a sound that’s as familiar to me as my own heartbeat, and I can’t imagine having to sleep away from him for long. To have to separate myself from my spouse or to have to completely eschew having the kind of sex they obviously enjoyed having. To not have him close enough at night that I can curl up to him and breathe in the scent of his skin.
And that, I think, is the sort of thing that I think maybe I take for granted. That I know I can be secure in the knowledge that I can have sex with my spouse when I want to, and not have a baby.
The personal is political. I do not want our country to continue to slide backward on reproductive freedom. I do not want us to lose our freedom, threatened and small as it may be.
There are a thousand small tragedies that we talk about from the Olde Days. The unwanted baby of the unmarried lass, of course.
But my heart breaks tonight for the story I was told as a child, of the lovingly married couple who had to sleep apart because she was just damn tired of being pregnant.
Because she’d been pregnant for a DECADE of her life.
i make ya man wanna speak spanish
Italian*👼
make ur own sphagetti ass post giada de laurentis
