steam. blue. porcelain.
(Source: klarat)
About a month ago, one of my closest friends had a pretty major health scare. Being the good West Coast queer I am, one of the first things I did was call a friend and ask her to whip up a batch of her herbal Trauma Tea to tamper the side effects of his medication and make him laugh at how woo I’d become. She literally lives across the street but I rarely see her, so she slipped it through my gate when I was at work, and later I dropped cash in her mail slot. Signed, sealed, delivered.
So, when I think about queer economy, it’s about how there’s always a queer somewhere out there who knows how to do just about anything you could ever need. You just have to know who to ask. In the past few years, I’ve not only found an herbalist, but also an intuitive counsel, a psychic tarot reader, and a second tarot reader who promised me readings for life after I gave her my sperm.
If I needed someone to fix my bike/car/cellphone/necklace, I have a pretty good idea of who I could call. When I decided to buy new furniture, I borrowed a truck from one friend and had someone else came along to help with the heavy lifting. One of my friends is making me new hips. Another cuts my hair. (And as another friend pointed out, what do you do when there’s not just one queer hair dresser, but so many? Identity crisis!) I’ve traded web design for videography, and I know who I could call for tax or legal advice. I can personally give you a kombucha baby/mama—the offspring of one I got from a friend in Portland who owns her own fermenting business and dehydrates placentas on the side. Oh, and by the way, I have another friend who can hook you up with a radical abortion doula. I also know who to ask if I need sound equipment, help setting up said equipment, or to do back-up in a performance in three hours. And don’t forget: everyone in this city is a goddamned DJ, photographer, or party promoter!
Queer economy is also about how there’s almost always a queer behind a counter or answering a phone or holding a clipboard somewhere who can hook you up. The first time I ever bought a wig, the queen who runs the store gave me a performer’s discount. I got another discount a few months ago from some girl I’d never met at Goodwill because she saw I was buying lady clothes (“girl, that top’s too expensive!”). A friend of a friend always used to always mark down my pricey salad-bar lunch to a flat rate of $4. When I needed donations for an auction, voila: gift certificates to boutiques, guest list spots at parties, and a case of fancy wine all magically appeared. Last week, I got free donuts on two separate occasions, once because someone liked the way I danced at Hard
French, and once, I swear, just for being a homo because really there was no other explanation. One time I came home and my roommate had a new bike. “Where’d you get it?” I asked. “Oh, from my queer community,” he replied casually. And I bet everyone who’s reading this knows at least one person who works at Rainbow.
And if we want to get real about it, I guess, queer economy is also sometimes about hooking up. And the spit-chain and however-many-degrees-of-separation you are to me. And when I post on our Facebook wall and then I wait for you to comment on it. And knowing that I can call you up for something because you owe me one. And being at a party and playing the game of “do you know so- and-so from summer-camp/this-band/that-school/West-Philly?”
Sometimes it’s because we’re friends. Sometimes we’re friends-of-friends or aquaintances or exes or crushes. Sometimes we find people who come out of the woodwork when we need them and then disappear as quickly as they came.
Sometimes we pay for stuff, but often we don’t. Sometimes we trade. Sometimes we beg or promise to pay it back someday. Sometimes we give gifts. Sometimes we bake cookies or take you out to dinner, not as repayment, but to say thank you.
If I wanted to get deep about it and dig into my liberal arts education, I’d say that economies are about circulation, exchange, and currency. That there are economies based on money and the attempt to quantify value, but also based on gifts, ideas, culture, sex, and many other things. I could also say that there are multiplier effects when you keep cash local because it just flows between us and somehow we all feel richer.
But really I want to say that queer economy is about community. It’s cheesy, yes, but much of how we know and relate to each other is based on what we do with and for each other. And as queers we have the opportunity—good, bad, and ugly—to create how we share our time, energy, and resources with one another. Sometime’s we’ve got to play by capitalism’s rules, but often we can circumvent and recalibrate them to be more than zero-sum, to treat each other with care and fairness, and to spread the wealth among us by redefining value on our own terms. So far, I think we’re not doing such a terrible job.
Oh my goddess! Look at this crazy queer lifestyle I’ve described for you! My experiences may not be exactly the same as yours, but I’m sure that if we tried hard enough we’d find some overlap. And wow! Maybe we can even get matching tattoos about it! I know this great queer artist who does it in her room,
but is really good and does it for cheap…
Lil Miss Hot Mess’s 5 Tips for a Healthy Queer Economy
1. Pay a girl! If you’re a promoter, curator, business owner, etc. and you’re making money off me, I better be making money off me too. I will not perform at your corporate event for “a spot on the guest list and a drink ticket” (thanks, but no thanks).
2. One queer’s trash is another queer’s treasure. I mean, look at how this stuff flows. My closet is probably 50% thrifted, 30% gifted, 10% found on the street, and 10% none of the above. I once sold a dress to Buffalo only to have a friend buy it from them a week later (sorry girl!).
3. Be accountable. All cheekiness aside, mama does believe in economic justice and accountability. Especially for those of us with class, racial, and/ or other privilege, let’s be accountable to the communities we’re a part of and adjacent to.
4. Don’t be (so) suspicious of success. This could be it’s own post, but briefly: let’s try to not shoot each other down when we have a moment of success or have a few coins in our pockets. Girl, I don’t believe in making money for the sake of it, but we don’t need a race to the bottom either. In a world in which money is a necessarily evil, let’s try to be smart about our resources, not judgy.
5. TREAT YOURSELF! I started saying this years ago, mostly as a joke, but now I can’t stop. Seriously, we all deserve roses with our bread, or maybe an artisanal ice cream cone every now and then.
this is similar to ties with poc communities/collectivities and reminds me of the foundational roots of the word bayanihan in tagalog. however, economies can so easily become tainted when capitalism is added into the mix - take my family’s issues with agricultural land property in the homeland for example. i’m glad that the list to practice a healthy economy was part of it because it’s so key to keep in check and hold ourselves accountable when we find ourselves and others in our communities reproducing the very imperialistic violences that we’ve been trying to fight against. divide and conquer? i think not, as long as we recenter this bayanihan and come from a place of love, recognition, and respect.
i got’cho back!
THIS
The lesson here: try your hardest to be more like Mr. Rogers, less like this.
a) i didn’t realize the sartorialist was such a dick b) mr rogers is such a hero.
this is the most dramatic FRIENDS post i’ve ever seen in my life…
What @dannielle said. This kind of wrenched my heart.
(Source: bbrownbearr)
People say, ‘I’m going to sleep now,’ as if it were nothing. But it’s really a bizarre activity. ‘For the next several hours, while the sun is gone, I’m going to become unconscious, temporarily losing command over everything I know and understand. When the sun returns, I will resume my life. If you didn’t know what sleep was, and you had only seen it in a science fiction movie, you would think it was weird and tell all your friends about the movie you’d seen. They had these people, you know? And they would walk around all day and be OK? And then, once a day, usually after dark, they would lie down on these special platforms and become unconscious. They would stop functioning almost completely, except deep in their minds they would have adventures and experiences that were completely impossible in real life. As they lay there, completely vulnerable to their enemies, their only movements were to occasionally shift from one position to another; or, if one of the ‘mind adventures’ got too real, they would sit up and scream and be glad they weren’t unconscious anymore. Then they would drink a lot of coffee. So, next time you see someone sleeping, make believe you’re in a science fiction movie. And whisper, ‘The creature is regenerating itself.
“
| — |
George Carlin (Not usually a George Carlin fan, but I always like tearing apart the most common things we do and re-amaze myself. Been doing that a lot what with the healing going on these last couple weeks.) (Source: arreter) |
This link leads to my top surgery Chip In page. I’m asking that whoever can please donate $1. I don’t have much money, but I know I could give someone a buck. So, that’s all I am asking for. Many of you have helped me so much, and I am so appreciative (and I hope that I help many of you in return). I wish I could express how much I need this without it turning into a sob story. If you can donate $1, please do. If not, please signal boost this instead.
Thank you for all that you have done for me. I would have never been able to medically transition without you, and I will never forget that.
Having just had my own and knowing/appreciating how lucky I am to have been able to swing it, I felt like the least I could do is re-blog this.
Badass motherfucker of the century.
My hero
I think it’s the morally correct thing to do, given the circumstances. Also, I think it’s awesome that kids think these books are cool because they’re banned :) I love teenagers so hard sometimes.
Loooove. I hope this kid grows up to be a librarian. This is amazing and I want to write papers about it.
A radical militant librarian after my own heart, says this former president of a club that read only banned books
Reminds me of It’s Kind of a Funny Story, the book I just finished and liked a whole bunch. Which I’m looking forward to seeing adapted into a film in October.
(via artpixie)
“A sister is a little bit of childhood that can never be lost.” - Marion C. Garretty
(sorry I don’t have any digital versions of the photos with Bethany as a kid, but she’s probably ok with that since she was in her awkward years when I as born)
(hat tip to @kelseyreneephotog for the quote.)
![wicked-grin:
sexartandpolitics:
unburyingthelead:
Tensions Flare Over Proposed Mosque on Staten Island
In the last few months, Muslim groups have encountered unexpectedly intense opposition to their plans for opening mosques in Lower Manhattan, in Brooklyn and most recently in an empty convent on Staten Island.
Some opponents have cited traffic and parking concerns. But the objections have focused overwhelmingly on more intangible and volatile issues: fear of terrorism, distrust of Islam and a linkage of the two in opponents’ minds.
“Wouldn’t you agree that every terrorist, past and present, has come out of a mosque?” asked one woman who stood up Wednesday night during a civic association meeting on Staten Island to address representatives of a group that wants to convert a Roman Catholic convent into a mosque in the Midland Beach neighborhood.
“No,” began Ayman Hammous, president of the Staten Island branch of the group, the Muslim American Society — though the rest of his answer was drowned out by catcalls and boos from among the 400 people who packed the gymnasium of a community center. […]
But just 20 minutes earlier, as Bill Finnegan stood at the microphone, came the meeting’s single moment of hushed silence. Mr. Finnegan said he was a Marine lance corporal, home from Afghanistan, where he had worked as a mediator with warring tribes.
After the sustained standing ovation that followed his introduction, he turned to the Muslims on the panel: “My question to you is, will you work to form a cohesive bond with the people of this community?” The men said yes.
Then he turned to the crowd. “And will you work to form a cohesive bond with these people — your new neighbors?”
The crowd erupted in boos. “No!” someone shouted.
(via @chrislhayes)
Things get ugly when America’s whiteness is threatened, don’t they?
blarg… blarg. blarg. blarg.
God, it just makes me really, really sad. All of this - people unable to look past their own fears, their own privilege, the fact that maybe they’re part of an oppressive network of systems that privileges them over other groups, and that unless you’re actively fighting those systems you are a part of the problem.](http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_l7dgxb0dP81qzn9e3o1_500.jpg)
Tensions Flare Over Proposed Mosque on Staten Island
In the last few months, Muslim groups have encountered unexpectedly intense opposition to their plans for opening mosques in Lower Manhattan, in Brooklyn and most recently in an empty convent on Staten Island.
Some opponents have cited traffic and parking concerns. But the objections have focused overwhelmingly on more intangible and volatile issues: fear of terrorism, distrust of Islam and a linkage of the two in opponents’ minds.
“Wouldn’t you agree that every terrorist, past and present, has come out of a mosque?” asked one woman who stood up Wednesday night during a civic association meeting on Staten Island to address representatives of a group that wants to convert a Roman Catholic convent into a mosque in the Midland Beach neighborhood.
“No,” began Ayman Hammous, president of the Staten Island branch of the group, the Muslim American Society — though the rest of his answer was drowned out by catcalls and boos from among the 400 people who packed the gymnasium of a community center. […]
But just 20 minutes earlier, as Bill Finnegan stood at the microphone, came the meeting’s single moment of hushed silence. Mr. Finnegan said he was a Marine lance corporal, home from Afghanistan, where he had worked as a mediator with warring tribes.
After the sustained standing ovation that followed his introduction, he turned to the Muslims on the panel: “My question to you is, will you work to form a cohesive bond with the people of this community?” The men said yes.
Then he turned to the crowd. “And will you work to form a cohesive bond with these people — your new neighbors?”
The crowd erupted in boos. “No!” someone shouted.
(via @chrislhayes)
Things get ugly when America’s whiteness is threatened, don’t they?
blarg… blarg. blarg. blarg.
God, it just makes me really, really sad. All of this - people unable to look past their own fears, their own privilege, the fact that maybe they’re part of an oppressive network of systems that privileges them over other groups, and that unless you’re actively fighting those systems you are a part of the problem.
