shiv

rachelmckibbens:

///

November 14th.
In the coffee shop,
the man in the
Make America Great Again hat
smiles at me, so I take this
as an invitation.

“Pardon me, but I have to ask—
do you think Trump’s
ideologies keep every person
in this country safe?“

He doesn’t hesitate.

“Ma’am, I can’t get wrapped up
in identity politics, all I can
worry about is how
I’m going to feed my girls.”

///

At my 40th birthday party,
an acquaintance asks
why we have “so much
Mexican art in the house.”

“It might be because I’m Mexican,” I say.

“No,” he laughs, “you’re not Mexican.”

“Yes. I am.”

“No,” he continues, reassuringly,
“and if you are, you’re only, maybe, 17%.“

The winter air stiffens between us.
An old, familiar pain.

///

There was a time when I
would have thanked him.

The early years,
when I wanted only to pass,
to rid myself of my last name—
the dead giveaway,
its muddy lineage

crawl out from the burying shame
that held me down every time
my father picked me up
from school in our shitty car,
his bushy mustache
& brown face
magnified by the sun.

///

A local white woman
posts a photo of her new tattoo:
a Mayan god etched eternal
on her flesh. When I point out
the disrespect, she assures me
she speaks Spanish fluently,
spent three years
in South America.

For the next six hours,
I argue with her friends.
They demand I quit being so
divisive. Judgemental. Close-minded.

“We have a racist running for President,
and you’re complaining about a tattoo?”
asks the white boy, who spray paints
murals all over this city
with impunity.

O, to be permitted the luxury
of only worrying about one thing at a time.

O, to be white in America,
to wake up knowing every god is your god.

///

When you never see yourself,
you search for yourself all the time.

You know the white girl
in the sombrero isn’t you.
The bro dude in Calavera makeup
isn’t either, not the ponchos
and glued on mustaches,
not the lowrider Chevy
in the Disney movie
or the hoochie-coochie
sex pot on the Emmy
award-winning television show.

Maybe you are only this:

the scorched bird pulled
from the chimney,
covered in soot.
Not the actual bird,
its velvet sack
of jigsaw’d bones,
but the feeling
of recognition.

The ash of knowing.

///

A white comedian tells this joke:
“I used to date Hispanics,
but now I prefer consensual.”

The audience laughs.
And you do, too.
Until the punchline hardens,
translates into a stone
in your throat.

You swallow it, like you always do.

You don’t change the channel,
but you also can’t remember
a single joke she tells after that.

A few months later, the comedian’s career
blows up. She’s so real. So edgy.
Such a hardcore feminist.
When someone writes an essay on
her old stand-up routines—
noting her blindspot when it comes to race,

her response is:

“It is a joke and it is funny.
I know that because people laugh at it.”

///

If two Mexicans are in a car, who is driving?
A police officer.

How do you starve a Mexican?
Put their food stamps in their work boots.

What’s the difference between a Mexican and an elevator?
One can raise a child.

What do you call a Mexican baptism?
Bean dip

How do you stop a Mexican from robbing your house?
Put a help wanted sign in the window.

What do you call a Mexican driving a BMW?
Grand theft auto

What do you call a Mexican without a lawnmower?
Unemployed

What do you call a building full of Mexicans?
Jail

How do you keep Mexicans from stealing?
Put everything of value on the top shelf.

What do you call a bunch of Mexicans running downhill?
A mudslide.

Why don’t Mexicans play Hide ’n Seek?
No one will look for them.

What does a Mexican get for Christmas?
Your TV.

What do you call the Arizona man shot to death
by his white neighbor, screaming, “Go back to Mexico!”
Juan Varela

///

November 29th.
For weeks, I’ve avoided
eye contact with strangers.
My face is a closed curtain.
My mouth, the most
decorated knife.
I pay for groceries,
grab the receipt &
let my half-hearted
thank yous trail like smoke.
I no longer want to see
who refuses to see me.

Anyone is everyone.

///

December 1st.
I keep waking up.
There isn’t anyone
white enough to stop me.

Pantomime the living until
the body remembers:
wicked bitch. Bloodwhirl.
Patron Saint of the Grab Back.

Still. Still. Still. Still. Still. Still here.

///

I etch my own face upon my wicked flesh.
I am my own devastating god.

Rachel McKibbens, Dec. 2016

mingsonjia:

circetorilavalos:

zooophagous:

mingsonjia:

Talking about cats, this one just got her koi for this year. I wish you every year to be like that cat 年年有鱼

Photography by 镜视眼88

That cat is a very skilled little fisher.

Btw that’s both a visual and a literal Chinese pun and I’m literally laughing so hard right now (my parents say this every year) and I want everyone to understand this.

Here’s the two phrases you’ll need to know:

年年有鱼 (nián nián you yú) – “(I wish you have) fish every year”

年年有余 (nián nián you yú) – “(I wish you have) extra every year”
– this is a common blessing used in China

Both the 鱼 and 余 characters sound exactly the same and here’s where the pun comes in.

Every Lunar New Year, as good luck, we eat “fish” so that we can “have fish every year”. In other words, we’re eating fish so that we can have extra every year.

Extra what, you ask? Extra everything! Extra money in the bank, extra food on our tables, extra happiness, etc, etc. It’s like an all-around blessing. Very kind and used often during Lunar New Year.

The cat has already gotten her “extra” (fish) for the year so the blogger is wishing you “fish” (extra) every year ^^

finally someone explained it, thank you<3

lol so i cut my finger open this morning and bled all over the kitchen and stuff, which is causing delays in finishing this week’s chapter

sorry guys !! this is seriously hindering my ability to type well/quickly

will get it done as soon as i can

mamodewberry:

thranduilings:

THIS IS ONE OF THE FUNNIEST LINES IN THE WHOLE SHOW BC

1) it’s painfully obvious that Chris is suggesting that Viktor and Yuuri are sleeping together

2) the fact that Chris implies this means that he has good knowledge on how Viktor feels about Yuuri

WHICH JUST LEAVES US WITH THE AMAZING CONCLUSION THAT VIKTOR MIGHT HAVE SHARED HIS GAY WOES WITH CHRIS AT SOME POINT

I live for Viktor and Chris being best friend’s and sharing this between the two of them it’s both hilarious and sweet I’m glad Viktor seems to have one person he can trust and see as a true friend

JUST LOOK AT THIS FACE HE KNOWS EXACTLY WHAT HE’S SAYING AND HE’S ENJOYING EVERY SECOND OF IT 

I love Chris and how the show so easily implies the possibility of sexual intimacy between Viktor and Yuuri without making it into a big deal or hyper sexualizing it as lots of other media tends to do 

Yes. So much this, yes.

Viktor and Chris’ friendship has become one of my favorite things to write in mine and @gabapple‘s fic, Never Look Away. It started with a throw away comment that then turned into hilarious innuendo (that’s going to be a running gag) that we then looked at each other and went “Okay, they have to be BFFs.” And then I ended up writing a character I didn’t like all that much in the beginning and now I love bringing him in at every opportunity. Funny how life works that way.

OMG yes it is one of the best parts of the fic and so rampant in the first few chapters… Chris and Viktor BFFs always <3 ;_; 

…and when we get to the Moscow chapters with the swiss alps comments… omg… 

if you love Viktor and Chris in the context of this OP, please consider reading the fic. You won’t be disappointed.