my parents definitely did not raise me to be a queer feminist filled with the wrath of a thousand enraged dragons and yet here i am
(via waterdreamings)
my parents definitely did not raise me to be a queer feminist filled with the wrath of a thousand enraged dragons and yet here i am
(via waterdreamings)
Oh look white women still make more than literally every other demographic except white men, but yea wut is intersectionality amirite?
(via anarcho-queer)
Nicki Minaj casually dismantles sexism while applying her eyeliner
This was, legitimately, my very first impression of Nicki Minaj. And this is the reason why, to this day, I have the utmost respect for her, even though I don’t like all of her music.
I watch this every time it pops up my dash and it never stops being excellent.
No Nicki, it makes you look fucking amazing. You bitch it up every damn where you need to.
This did everything BUT make her look stupid.
she looks the exact opposite of stupid. so much respect right now
(via feministsuperpowers)
I was once asked on a radio program by a religious caller: “How far do you want Saudi women to progress?” I explained that I actually wanted them to regress — 1430 years.Dr. Khaled M. Batarfi, “Power to Saudi Women: An Islamic Duty”
At that time, Muslim women had more rights than they do today. They owned and managed businesses. Prophet Mohammad (peace be upon him) as a young man worked for his future wife, the mega businesswoman Al-Saydah Khadija. Women joined the army as soldiers and nurses.
The Prophet (pbuh) consulted his wives on social, state and religious affairs. So did Caliph Omar, who changed his position on marriage dowry and admitted his mistake after a woman challenged him in public. As for driving, women rode their camels and horses, even in war.
The caller explained that it was a different era then. Our women need more time to reach that level, he argued.
I answered him by asking: “Do you mean after 14 centuries and 50 years of modern education, our women are less educated, trained and responsible? And if so, who is to blame? Our education system? Our upbringing? Our Islamic teaching?
(via kuchibooty)
I know I’m a couple of days early, but I’ll be honest with you guys: I’ve got some apprehension about the approaching month. Like all women, I am simply lost without the d; a lack of the d drives me to madness and despair, reduces me to nothing more than a mere shell of a
personwoman (whoops, almost suggested that women are people). In fact, once a month I tell folks that I have come down with my period, when in reality I am simply curled up on my side in my bedroom, screaming, “The d! The d!” into the cruel, empty air. Why, just yesterday I turned to my vibrator, Bunny*, and said, “Oh, Bunny, what will I do? The internet decreed that women who participated in No-Shave November would bring about No D December, and I have, myself, taken part in this blasphemous behavior! Oh, woe! Oh, despair! Oh, the horror!” She buzzed ominously at me.Just kidding; that’s all lies. I am a person despite my bedamned femality, I actually curl up and yell “FUCK MOTHERFUCKING SHIT FUCK WHO THOUGHT IT WAS A GOOD IDEA TO BUILD CUNTS THIS WAY,” on my period, and I’m about as afraid of No D December as I am of death by comically falling piano, which is to say not at all. It is true that I participated in No Shave November, with my legs, as a woman, but even that is kind of a lie of omission, because it implies that I stopped shaving my legs at the beginning of November, that I intend to start again at the beginning of December, and that I did so in the name of a cause.
Here’s the truth: from the beginning of September to the end of May, or sometimes the middle of June if it’s one of those years where summer comes late, I am rocking it monkey-style from the waist down. And let me be real clear here: I am not talking “long stubble,” I am not talking “occasionally skipping a few days with the razor,” I am not talking “light, feminine hair.” I am talking full-scale, balls to the wall, coarse-as-shit monkey fur. I will shave if I have to go to an event where dress pants are not going to cut it, and I will shave if I’m planning on fucking somebody for the first or second time**, but that’s it. Otherwise, I wear pants and enjoy the extra ten to fifteen minutes a day I don’t have to spend in the shower, the money I don’t have to spend on dude razors (yeah that’s right dudes, I buy your better sharper smoother razors and use them on my monkey fur leg hair, FUCK THE POLICE), and the happy lack of razor burn itching at inopportune moments. I love winter. I love winter so hard.
I’ll tell you something else, while we’re on the topic—I’m no model, but for better or worse I do qualify as conventionally attractive. Whatever hemp-wearing, guitar-toting, unwashed hippie festival follower you’re imagining, I’m not that girl (although, of course, no judgement to those folks—I am friends with several different versions of that girl, all of whom I have met at festivals, and they are all some of the best humans I know). I’ve got blonde hair and big tits, I clean up nice, and I have long since perfected the sort of walk that highlights my cute little ass; as a result of this, I’ve gotten a number of cat-calls over the years. And I’ll tell you what, dudes—a lot of those cat calls have happened between the months of September and late-May-sometimes-June, while I have been walking around with pants concealing my monkey fur. Dudes have, in fact, offered me the d whilst I was secretly unshaved! I know. The horror is overwhelming, right? Probably not as overwhelming as the horror of being offered the d by a total stranger in the middle of the day, but still. You just go ahead. Take a moment. Let that sink in. I’ll wait.
(via pastthestorm)
Indian activists belonging to various womens rights organisation hold placards during a protest demonstration staged in Bangalore condemning violence against women and transgender people.
(via shannonwest)
“This is a trial of the whole government system of Russia, which so likes to show its harshness toward the individual, its indifference to his honour and dignity,” Nadezhda Tolokonnikova, 22, one of the trio on trial said in an impassioned statement. “If this political system throws itself against three girls … it shows this political system is afraid of truth.”
“I am not scared of you,” Alyokhina told the court. “I’m not scared of lies and fiction, or the badly formed deception that is the verdict of this so-called court. Because my words will live, thanks to openness.”“
-Pussy Riot’s closing statement
Perhaps every rebel kid (myself included) thinks that one day, were they in court for Fighting The Good Fight, this is what they’d be brave enough and eloquent enough to say. These women said it. Three riot grrls in pastel ski masks went full Giordano Bruno against the forces of Putin.
Tolokonnikova is wearing a shirt an anti-fascist slogan from the Spanish civil war. No Pasaran. They Will Not Pass. I am tearing up.
The 2010’s have been when our political rebellion became art and our technology became myth.
(via postcardsfromspace)
Even though she grew up playing football, shooting hoops and running races against all the boys in her neighborhood, U.S. 800-meter champion Alysia Montano never wanted to be thought of as one of them.
As a result, she started wearing a flower behind her right ear to remind the boys they were getting beat by a girl.
“The flower to me means strength with femininity. I think that a lot of people say things like you run like a girl. That doesn’t mean you have to run soft or you have to run dainty. It means that you’re strong.”
(Source)