Jan. 21st, 2017

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Here we are.

It wasn’t a nightmare. We aren’t going to wake up. Donald Trump really is the President of the United States.


I didn’t vote for him. 

I’m not responsible for his election.

But for the next four years, whether I like it or not – and let’s be clear, I don’t – he is my president.

His election was not my responsibility, but what happens over the next four years? That is.

It won’t matter to the young woman who loses her insurance that I didn’t vote for him.

It won’t matter to the family who is deported how often I watch the news and tut disapprovingly.

It won’t matter to the students with disabilities when publicly funded charter and private schools refuse to teach them what I posted on social media.

I’m not being hyperbolic when I say that the election of Donald Trump will be the shame of these generations. In twenty years, when seventh graders are learning about the Trump administration in civic class, it won’t matter that I didn’t like it, it won’t matter that I tutted, it won’t matter what I said on the internet because as long as that’s all I do, all of those things will still happen.

And that’s my responsibility.

So I’m not saying that you should like it, I’m not saying you shouldn’t tut, I’m obviously not saying that you shouldn’t yell about it on the internet

I’m saying that’s not enough. 

The things that happened after the election of Donald Trump, the things that happen over the next four years, these are things that our nation will be ashamed of for a long time.

Make what you do in the next four years something you can be proud of.
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i was gonna self-soothe with something mindless or w-ev but my dude wanted to go out for sausages and beer and then came home and we just had to re-watch Fargo, which we last rented from Netflix on DVD when my iMac Luxo Jr was brand-new in like, 2003, so

I’m officially 37 Enough that 3 beers is a lot for me ok

also the Internet assures me that Prince is not actually in this movie despite his sigil appearing in the closing credits so I mean there’s that too
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Bodhi’s phone vibrated in his pocket, and he fished it out absently. He was exhausted, collapsed on his couch. Driving in snow made the day so goddamned long. It was a text message from an unknown number, and he frowned at it for a moment, but then remembered he’d given his number to Jeron.

Fuck this weather, the text said.

You can say that again, he wrote back.

After a moment, the phone lit up again. This is J by the way, it said, and Bodhi spent a moment before figuring out that Jeron was probably spelled with a J if it was in Spanish. He’d been mentally spelling it with an H, but that wasn’t right, he knew.

I thought it was spelled with a G, he wrote, because that was funnier.

Like the Apache chief, Jeron wrote, then added, jajaja, and that took Bodhi a minute.

I never studied Spanish, he wrote.

Never too late to start, Jeron shot back. Lesson one: soft J.

You are the worst at sexting, Bodhi said.
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This has been loitering about my drafts for weeks now, and … isn’t going to improve any, so posting as is.

I definitely appreciate the warm responses to my position of Star Wars In General and Particularly Rogue One Is Not About Cinnamon Roll Characters, Thank You and Goodbye.

But I am a bit weirded out by the “it’s not about good people! they’re not good people! that’s the point!” I … get it. But I find it very pat.

Keep reading

If you read one piece of Rogue One meta, read this one.
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“RESISTANCE TO TYRANNY IS OBEDIENCE TO GOD.,” suffrage activist, Washington, D.C., c. 1917. Photo c/o @librarycongress. #HavePrideInHistory #WomensMarch #Sunday (at Washington, District of Columbia)
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#Repost @sedition1216 with @repostapp
Ran into @sheertara138 at the protest, her and her friend are feminist af. 💁
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So, seeing all these things about Princess Leia iconography, here’s a video on what the inspirational style really means. It’s a Hopi style, and this woman lectures about who is entitled to wear the style as she demonstrates it on her daughter. It’s a beautiful video, and has a lot of commentary on the tradition of who does whose hair when in their life. 

I had thought to do a style like this on myself, but of course, having learned what it means, I can’t. But maybe I’ll keep looking for a style to adapt, so I can wear Princess Leia buns. 

Knowing what the inspirational style was has added a great deal of meaning to it, I think, don’t you? 

It makes me wonder, though, whether Leia’s hair could be retconned to have a similar kind of meaning. A Hopi woman must be unmarried, but have gone through the ceremony that marks her passage through puberty into womanhood, in order to wear this hairstyle. 

This style uses wooden forms to create the loops. A similar Navajo style (tsiiyéé) is done using strands of yarn wrapped around and around to hold the loops in place, and I’ve actually done similar styles myself just in experimenting.

Leia’s actual hair from the movies was absolutely done with false hairpieces, and you can see them kind of falling apart a little in some shots. But I know it would be possible to get hair with texture like mine to hold in a style similar to that. I just have to think on it. I haven’t seen any good tutorials yet; I might just use my standard sewn-braids style to be ‘close enough’. 

But the information in this video about the length of black cordage the woman is using to tie her daughter’s hair is so lovely– the men make these hair ties, spun from the women’s hair and other fibers to blend in with the color of their hair, and the ties are treasured possessions a woman would keep with her always. What a beautiful detail!
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Well, right. But my whole point was that in the previews the glimpses we got made us all think he was going to be super badass and fashionable. And in canon, it was just a raincoat.

For the record, though, the actor totally thought it was a fashion statement.

But like. Literally any other fabric would have looked better while serving that purpose. 

And there he is, full screen, on a starship, in space, in a wrinkled fucking raincoat, getting picked on by Tarkin. It was great.
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So I looked up the squash blossom buns Princess Leia’s hairstyle was based on, but properly you need wooden forms and also to have gone through a particular Hopi initiation rite to wear it, so no. I looked up some Italian Renaissance hairstyles instead, because that seemed less fraught. Next challenge: get a couple more mirrors so I can make them even, LOL.
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Usually when I’ve seen other long haired women do the double buns, it’s braided. Women with very curly hair sometimes do afro puffs too. I almost never see real squash blossom buns. Thank god.

Yeah, and Leia’s weren’t real squash blossom buns either, really– one of the salient features of the true squash blossom, as explained by the woman in the video, is that they have a kind of stem, and stand out from the head, because the hair tie is wound around them so many times. This means also that they don’t cover the ears. 

I’ve seen, previously reblogged, a photo of the Mexican soldadera that Lucas saw and presumably drew his inspiration from– she was just one woman, who was wearing that hairstyle in just one surviving photo, so it was his error to think she was in any way representative. She must have either had some tie to the Hopi community, or have seen the hairstyle and admired it and copied it. Her version was more like what Leia wears, closer to her head, which makes me feel like she must have seen and copied the hairstyle rather than having had it taught to her. The idea of a long hair tie being the foundation of the squash blossom and tsiiyéé styles makes me feel like they’re sort of– co-evolved from a similar tradition, which the soldadera’s hairstyle, probably done instead with European pins, and Leia’s, absolutely done with European pins, don’t draw from.

Pin-based styles like that aren’t very durable, and loosely twisted hair definitely won’t stand up to any kind of wear and tear, which is why you can see Leia’s starting to come undone in some shots. For a pragmatic style, with flat textureless hair like mine, braids are absolutely the way to go– and in my case, I’ve found, oiled braids are the way to go, forget gel or any of that stuff. Even setting lotion does me no particular favors. But coconut and castor oil will make my hair flat and shiny and much more resistant to frizzing, so it can stand up to normal wear in a braided style.

I can’t do a twisted or loose style if my hair is oiled, because it’s too heavy and separates and clumps and doesn’t look right. But oiled braids, man. I’m a huge fan. Especially now that I’ve figured out that you can wrap the ends so they don’t fluff out.

I’ll have to look a bit more into it, but I know that this is historically how women of my ethnic background would do their hair. Pomade and other oil-based treatments were the traditional method of keeping long, flat European hair in good condition and biddable for hairstyles both simple and elaborate.

Listening to the video as the woman talks about the different styles of hair Hopi girls will wear at different stages of their development made me think about how very, very recently European-Americans lost those traditions themselves. My own mother grew up in a tradition where a girl’s hair was braided until puberty, and after that she cuts it shorter and begins to have it styled professionally; she rebelled, because it was the sixties, and wore her hair long and loose as an unmarried young woman, but that was when the tradition was lost. I reclaimed the braids myself, as a teenager, because I didn’t like the fashionable hairstyles of the 90s. (I had one experience with a perm. Those photos are not my favorites.)

We had these traditions, and we can reclaim them without appropriating from other traditional cultures, but it’s hard to pick out the traditions of your own people when they often weren’t recorded as such. Thinking of yourself as just “default” and “normal” means you don’t notice what you’re doing as much, you know? So it’s easier to appropriate something that was researched by someone who othered it at the time, and that’s just an alienating process all around.
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fuck, the cassian/bodhi thing is accidentally like 24k words long and they haven’t banged yet. wtf. 

i might need to separate it into chapters, what do you think?
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Oh, that’d be telling.

Actually it’s not as closely tied-in as I wanted it to be. I’m still trying, but. I might, yet; the other thing has wound up being an action/thriller with a really really long boring intro, and i can’t seem to get it under control. 

That’s sort of where I’m going with it, though. Kind of. Maybe. We’ll see. 

“I don’t know anything about hypothermia,” Bodhi said, “so I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, but I’m British enough that I’m going to put the kettle on before I do literally anything else.” He went and did so, and when he came back, Jeron had managed to struggle out of his boots, gloves, and parka, and was standing in the entryway shivering.

“I don’t have hypothermia,” Jeron said. “I’m fine. I just fell asleep because I’m exhausted.”

“Stop shivering then,” Bodhi said. He pulled out his phone and opened the browser and searched on hypothermia symptoms, right then and there as he pulled Jeron into the room and sat him on the couch next to the pile of blankets he customarily wrapped himself in when he sat there. “That’s what it says here. If you can stop shivering, then you’re only very mildly hypothermic and it’s all right, but if you’re shivering uncontrollably–”

“I’m fine,” Jeron said, exasperated, but wrapped a blanket around himself. He didn’t stop shivering.

Bodhi read down the checklist. “Can you feel your feet?”

“I’m fine,” Jeron repeated.

“Ah,” Bodhi said, “denial and disorientation, that’s right on there.”

“Bodhi,” Jeron said, pulling the blanket up over his head, “I have goddamn survival training, I am slightly cold, I am not dying, I am fine.”

“Oh,” Bodhi said, scrolling, “this suggests getting into a sleeping bag with another person and maximizing skin-to-skin contact to rewarm the affected individual.”

Jeron didn’t answer for a moment, but then peeked out of the blanket. “Oh,” he said.

Bodhi put his hand on his hip and regarded Jeron. “I mean, I’m just saying.”

“Is the sleeping bag strictly necessary?” Jeron asked.

The kettle boiled. “Tea first,” Bodhi said.



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