If your hair doesn’t fit into one of these categories, or if you do not have hair, select whatever you think is closest– unfortunately there’s no room for an “other” option.
So I got this ask a while ago, and I’ve been lowkey thinking about it ever since.
First: No. I am a queer, cranky dyke who is too old for this sort of bullshit gatekeeping.
Second: What an unbelievable question to ask someone you don’t even know! What an incomprehensibly rude thing to ask, as if you’re somehow owed information about my sexual history. You’re not! No one—and I can’t reiterate this enough, but no one—owes you the details of their sex lives, of their trauma, or of anything about themselves that they don’t feel like sharing with you.
The clickbait mills of the internet and the purity police of social media would like nothing more than to convince everyone that you owe these things to everyone. They would like you to believe that you have to prove that you’re traumatized enough to identify with this character, that you can’t sell this article about campus rape without relating it to your own sexual assault, that you can’t talk about queer issues without offering up a comprehensive history of your own experiences, and none of those things are true. You owe people, and especially random strangers on the internet, nothing, least of all citations to somehow prove to them that you have the right to talk about your own life.
This makes some people uncomfortable, and to be clear, I think that that’s good: people who feel entitled to demand this information should be uncomfortable. Refusing to justify yourself takes power away from people who would very much like to have it, people who would like to gatekeep and dictate who is permitted to speak about what topics or like what things. You don’t have to justify yourself. You don’t have to explain that you like this ship because this one character reminds you a bit of yourself because you were traumatized in a vaguely similar way and now— You don’t have to justify your queerness by telling people about the best friend you had when you were twelve, and how you kissed, and she laughed and said it was good practice for when she would kiss boys and your stomach twisted and your mouth tasted like bile and she was the first and last girl you kissed, but—
You don’t owe anyone these pieces of yourself. They’re yours, and you can share them or not, but if someone demands that you share, they’re probably not someone you should trust.
Third: The idea of gold star lesbians is a profoundly bi- and trans- phobic idea, often reducing gender to genitals and the long, shared history of queer women of all identities to a stark, artificial divide where some identities are seen as purer or more valuable than others. This is bullshit on all counts.
There’s a weird and largely artificial division between bisexuals and lesbians that seems to be intensifying on tumblr, and I have to say: I hate it. Bisexual women aren’t failed lesbians. They’re not somehow less good or less valid because they’re attracted to [checks notes] people. Do you think that having sex with a man somehow changes them? What are you so worried about it for? I’ve checked, and having sex with a man does not, in fact, make your vagina grow teeth or tentacles. Does that make you feel better? Why is what other people are doing so threatening to you?
Discussions of gold star lesbians are often filled with tittering about hehe penises, which is unfortunate, since I know a fair few lesbians who have penises, and even more lesbians who’ve had sex with people, men and women alike, who have penises. I’m sorry to report that “I’m disgusted by a standard-issue human body part” is neither a personality nor anything to be proud of. I’m a dyke and I don’t especially like men, but dicks are just dicks. You don’t have to be interested in them, but a lot of people have them, and it doesn’t make you less of a lesbian to have sex with someone who has a dick.
There’s so much garbage happening in the world—maybe you haven’t noticed, but things are kind of Not Great in a lot of places, and there’s a whole pandemic thing that’s been sort of a major buzzkill? How is this something that you’re worried about? Make a tea, remind yourself that other people’s genitalia and sexual history are none of your business, maybe go watch a video about a cute animal or something.
Fourth: The idea of gold star lesbians is a shitty premise that argues that sexuality is better if it’s always been clear-cut and straightforward—but it rarely is. We live in a very, very heterosexist culture. I didn’t have a word for lesbian until many years after I knew that I was one. How can you say that you are something when your mouth can’t even make the shape of it? The person you are at 24 is different to the person you are at 14, and 34, and 74. You change. You get braver. The world gets wider. You learn to see possibilities in the shadows you used to overlook. Of course people learn more about themselves as they age.
Also, many of us, especially those of us who grew up in smaller towns, or who are over the age of, say, 25, grew up in times and places where our sexuality was literally criminal.
Shortly after I graduated high school, a gay man in my state was sentenced to six months in jail. Why? Well, he’d hit on someone, and it was a misdemeanor to “solicit homosexual or lesbian activity”, which included expressing romantic or sexual interest in someone who didn’t reciprocate. You might think, then, that I am in fact quite old, but you would be mistaken. The conviction was in 1999; it was overturned in 2002.
I grew up knowing this: the wrong thing said to the wrong person would be sufficient reason to charge me with a crime.
In the United States, the Defense of Marriage Act was passed in 1996, clarifying that according to the federal government, marriage could only ever be between one man and one woman. It also promised that even if a state were to legalize same-sex unions, other states wouldn’t have to recognize them if they didn’t want to. And wow, they super did not want to, because between 1998 and 2012, a whopping thirty states had approved some sort of amendment banning same-sex marriage.
Every queer person who’s older than about 25 watched this, knowing that this was aimed at people like them. Knowing that these votes were cast by their friends and their families and their teachers and their employers.
Some states were worse than others. Ohio passed their bill in 2004 with 62% approval. Mississippi passed theirs the same year with 86% approval. Imagine sitting in a classroom, or at work, or in a church, or at a family dinner, and knowing that statistically, at least two out of every three people in that room felt you shouldn’t be allowed to marry someone you loved.
Matthew Shepard was tortured to death in October of 1998. For being gay, for (maybe) hitting on one of the men who had planned to merely rob him. Instead, he was tortured and left to die, tied to a barbed wire fence. His murderers were both sentenced to two consecutive life terms in prison. This was controversial, because a nonzero number of people felt that Shepard had brought it upon himself.
Many of us sat at dinner tables and listened to this discussion, one that told us, over and over, that we were fundamentally wrong, fundamentally undeserving of love or sympathy or of life itself.
This is a tiny, tiny sliver of history—a staggeringly incomplete overview of what happened in the US over about ten years. Even if this tiny sliver is all that there were, looking at this, how could you blame someone for wanting to try being not Like This? How can you fault someone who had sex, maybe even had a bunch of sex, hoping desperately that maybe they could be normal enough to be loved if they just tried harder? How can you say that someone who found themself an uninteresting but inoffensive boyfriend and went on dates and had sex and said that it was fine is somehow less valuable or less queer or less of a lesbian for doing so? For many people, even now, passing as straight, as problematic as that term is, is a survival skill. How dare you imply that the things that someone did to protect themself make them worth less? They survived, and that’s worth literally everything.
Fifth, finally: What is a gold star, anyhow? You’ve capitalized it, like it’s Weighty and Important, but it’s not. Gold stars were what your most generous grade school teacher put on spelling tests that you did really well on. But ultimately, gold stars are just shiny scraps of paper. They don’t have any inherent value: I can buy a thousand of them for five bucks and have them at my door tomorrow. They have only the meaning that we give them, only the importance that we give them. We’re not children desperately scrabbling for a teacher’s approval anymore, though. We understand that good and bad are more of a spectrum than a binary, and that a gold star is a simplification. We understand that no number of gold stars will make us feel like we’re special enough or good enough or important enough, or fix the broken places we can still feel inside ourselves. Only we can do that.
The stars are only shiny scraps of paper. They offer us nothing; we don’t need them. I hope that someday, you see that, too.
Nooo i just saw a TikTok of someone calling their mom a hoarder cause she has a CD collection and going “i can play these faster on an app” and telling her to throw them away BITE BITE BITE BITE KILL KILL KILL KILL if someone said that to me i would rip them apart with my teeth i would burn them alive the violence that would take place would be unimaginable i would be an unleashed demon hungry for blood and meat. unimaginable horrors. death and destruction. killing. maiming. no one could survive that. it would be a nuclear apocalypse. leave the fucking CDs alone
Okay but if you have an extensive CD collection you need to back it up into digital/new CDs!
And it’s not about apps or digital being faster, I’m all up for physical media, but commercially produced CDs from the 90s and early 2000s are reaching the end of their functional lifespan*, and are starting to fail.
If you have a lot of CDs, it would be a good idea to rip them into high fidelity digital audio, to preserve them.
*CD/DVD lifespans are tricky. Some estimates in peak, perfect conditions and maintenance go for almost 200 years. Others calculate between 20 to 30 years in “normal” use, though no one can agree what normal is.
I recommend buying a cheap DVD reader/writer unit -I bought mine for less than 20 USD – and then batch ripping stuff. Surprisingly Windows Media Player works out of the box, just make sure to save things in the correct format (mp3 or MP4) so you’re not limited in playback.
You can of course find more robust options online, including VLC, to rip your files. Ripping a CD will not damage it or prevent it from working, it’ll just make sure you have the option to burn a new one if your original happens to fail. This is 100% legal and ethical (and would be ethical still even if illegal, because piracy is always ethical in late stage capitalism and corporations are not your friends.)
I recommend redundancy for your backups (remember that time Apple fucked up with people’s files by replacing them with itunes shit? Yeah) and if you’re really techy, set up a NAS by your router, with your backups.
If your rips are high quality you can feed it to your computer/tablet/phone/any device in your network and always have access to CD quality audio no matter where you are.
I was walking out of court yesterday and the deputy working the security desk goes ‘stay safe out there!“ And I go, yeah the sidewalks are pretty slippery. He responds, "hey, do you carry?’ and I said no, because we’re very much not allowed to bring guns to court. And he goes, "You want some mace? or a knife? we got extras”
so now I have some random mace and a knife.
Just in case.
Do you just give vulnerable vibes or was he sitting on a hoard of weapons thinking “yeah that’s too many mace and knives. gotta offload stock.”?
Ah, no, I have been told repeatedly that my first-impression vibe is “intimidating,” and the tenor of this conversation was much more “you seem like a person with enemies.”
I am so nice. You don’t even know how nice I am; I am a ray of sunshine. Just….maybe not when I’m in court.
Went to the studio and I have been given MORE KNIVES
My boss just came into my office and gave me these little skull eyedropper bottles. Friends, it is a good week to be me
And actually yesterday a different coworker brought me tea from her trip to London (thanks!!!) Which was super nice but I’m starting to get suspicious…
Okay Vice has brought me a little pink pompom. I don’t know what I’m being prepared for but I’m ready. I think.
ALT
amhrancas 