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  • work is disabling; disability is class-enforcing. adjust ur ideological paradigms accordingly

  • Can someone elaborate?

  • sure!

    work is disabling

    • physical labour is a literal strain on your body. historically this has been a given of certain forms of labour, eg, even before the official recognition of disability, mine workers in many parts of the world received disproportionately high wages compared to other jobs because it was understood that your body would break down by the time you were 40-50 and you wouldn’t be able to work anymore. the high wages were for supporting you after that, but they were only present where unions had been able to force this demand on bosses; there’s a reason mine working has historically been a common form of slave or indentured labour. this example is an obvious one (and one i wouldn’t want to rely on for various reasons) but if you’ve worked stocking supermarket shelves, or cleaning, or as a barista, or as a farm labour, you will know that being on your feet for hours on end, the repetitive movements required to complete tasks, the strain of constant attention, these all take their toll
    • work environments are stress inducing and long term stress has both physical and mental effects. it can change how you approach other people, how you regulate your emotions, how you relate to social settings. stress can produce strains, it can produce headaches, it can produce tightness in muscles that are can cause injury
    • when you need to work to provide food, rent, clothing for yourself, you are not as able to protect yourself from health and safety risks. you are more exposed to disease and to other health risks, depending on the job, and you are less able to effectively rest and recover, thus increasing the likelihood of long term complications

    disability is class enforcing

    • being disabled is expensive. simply getting healthcare at all can be prohibitively expensive for many people. this is not even to mention mobility aids or other specialised equipment. you may have to spend more on specialised diets or accommodation. you may need to hire personal assistants or other forms of labour to complete certain tasks for you
    • there are less jobs that you are able to work. you are less likely to be able to work long term. you are less likely to be able to work longer hours, and your partners may also have to work shorter hours to care for you. you are more likely to be forced into precarious employment or onto benefits which, which available, are pitifully small
    • you are more likely to face job discrimination and more likely to face housing discrimination. the housing you are able to get is likely to be more expensive
    • you are more vulnerable to abuse, either domestic, or in public, or by the state. this is increasingly the case if you are Black or a migrant or a woman or trans or homeless, etc, and it’s increasingly the case the more poor you become

    this is not a complete list, it’s just what i could think of off the top of my head (and i just woke up too lol). i hope that clarifies some of the factors i am thinking of here. feel free to ask if there is anything that is unclear

  • Goddamn management company can't bare the idea of a single month without profit they're booking viewings for our apartment before we've even packed our stuff well I hope you guys can keep a straight face showing a potential future tenant around our wall of furry art you fucks

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  • They cancelled 9 minutes before the viewing. Pussies.

  • Love the concept of coincidentally making your living spaces untourable for shitty landlords.

    Is this like the furry equivalent of shooting off a few guns now and then in order to keep the property values low?

  • My apartment is a cognitohazard to the well adjusted it's like the ethical cousin of hostile architecture

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  • Last week I accidentally took an edible at 10x my usual dose. I say “accidentally” but it was really more of a “my friend held it out to my face and I impulsively swallowed it like a python”, which was technically on purpose but still an accident in that my squamate instincts acted faster than my ability to assess the situation and ask myself if I really wanted to get Atreides high or not.

    Anyway. I was painting the wall when it hit. My friend heard me make a noise and asked what was wrong—I explained that I had just fallen through several portals. I realized that painting the wall fulfilled my entire hierarchy of needs, and was absolutely sure that I was on track to escaping the cycle of samsara if I just kept at it a little longer. I was thwarted on my journey towards nirvana only by the fact that I ran out of paint.

    Seeking a surrogate act of humble service through which I might be redeemed and made human, I turned to unwashed dishes in the sink and took up the holy weapon of the sponge. I was partway through cleaning the blender when it REALLY hit.

    You ever clean a blender? It’s a shockingly intimate act. They are complex tools. One of the most complicated denizens of the kitchen. Glass and steel and rubber and plastic. Fuck! They’ve got gaskets. You can’t just scrub ‘em and rinse them down like any other piece of shit dish. You’ve got to dissemble them piece by piece, groove by sensitive groove, taking care to lavish the spinning blades with cautious attention. There’s something sensual about it. Something strangely vulnerable.

    As I stood there, turning the pieces over in my hands, I thought about all the things we ask of blenders. They don’t have an easy job. They are hard laborers taking on a thankless task. I have used them so roughly in my haste for high-density smoothies, pushing them to their limits and occasionally breaking them. I remembered the smell of acrid smoke and decaying rubber that filled the kitchen in the break room the last time I tried to make a smoothie at work—the motor overtaxed and melted, the gasket cracked and brittle. Strawberry slurry leaked out of it like the blood of a slain animal.

    Was this blender built to last? Or was it doomed to an early grave in some distant landfill by the genetic disorder of planned obsolescence? I didn’t know, and was far too high to make an educated guess. But I knew that whatever care and tenderness and empathy I put into it, the more respect for the partnership of man and machine, the better it would perform for me.

    This thought filled me with a surge of affection. However long its lifespan, I wanted it to be filled with dignity and love and understanding. I thought: I bet no one has hugged this blender before. And so I lifted it from its base.

    A blender is roughly the size and shape of a human baby. Cradling one in your arms satisfies a primal need. A month ago I was permitted to hold an infant for the first time in my life, an experience which was physically and psychologically healing. I felt an echo of that satisfaction holding my friend the blender, and the thought of parting with it felt even more ridiculous than bringing it with me to hang out on my friend’s bed.

  • #i'm so happy to finally understand what you meant by wizard high #i think you saw through the veil of the universe and unlocked the core of animism via weed gummiesALT
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    Relax 😎

  • DASHBOARD UNFUCKER V1.0

    as 90% of desktop users have probably found out, today @staff released an update that for some insane reason COMPLETELY remodels the dashboard to replicate twitter's. this is of course in the wake of numerous other thoroughly hated changes and a continued refusal to fix any of the site's actual problems, half of which stem directly from site management.

    HOWEVER, thanks to the power of jQuery, i was able to throw together a userscript that remodels the dashboard back to its original look almost perfectly.

    here is my dashboard right now, with the script active:

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    and here is the old dashboard in separate tab container that hasn't received the update:

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    it's hardly perfect; i had trouble making it force reload to the fixed layout when switching between other pages and the dashboard, and it currently only fixes just the dashboard. it's also completely untested on browsers other than firefox, and chances are it looks a bit screwy on ultrawide monitors. but for now at least, it's a good fix.

    the unfucker is a tampermonkey userscript. all you have to do to use it is install the tampermonkey extension, hit "create new script", and replace the default code on the page with the script (link here) and save it.

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    I would like to share with you all some absolutely raw advice my mom gave me about my anxiety today

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    if percy shelley were alive today, i know for a fact he would be a huge hit on tumblr dot com.

  • 'can i copy your homework?'

    'yeah just don't make it obvious'

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  • all i can imagine is this

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  • Hey, PSA for my fellow disabled people: UPS workers are trying to negotiate a new contract, and it looks like it's leading to a strike soon. Now, I am absolutely all for this, they need safe working conditions and should strike if need be, but for us?

    Please contact your doctors and make sure you're prepared in any way possible. This will affect many of you, whether that's through med deliveries, oxygen tanks, or other one-use supplies. If you live in America, try to get in contact with an insurance case worker for resources and advice if you're able.

    Stay safe, and hope that the precaution isn't necessary.

  • I threw your clit into a bag and pushed it down the stairs

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    good job everyone lets pick this back up after lunch

  • I don’t get it, man. why. why do we have to homogenize everything. why does every product have to look and behave and feel the exact same way. why can’t tumblr maintain its individuality? why can’t it lean into the things that make it a unique and refreshing offering instead of scrambling to make it a carbon copy of twitter? sucks, man. sucks.

  • "Think of the two major possibilities here: Either the studios owe untold millions to their talents and paying it out will decimate their stock prices, or they owe so little because there really is no money in streaming and the bubble of their entire 21st century business model will burst in spectacular fashion. And make no mistake: this is a bubble. This is the inevitable climax of a stockholder-driven hunger for infinite growth, despite the fact that, by design, such a thing cannot and should not exist. The infection of Wall Street has overwhelmed the entertainment industry beyond repair, leading to cultural vandals like David Zaslav to be appointed with the callous duty of strip-mining decades’ of artistic beauty for pennies of tax write-offs. The past and future are frivolous in comparison to the short-term demands that the line keep going up."

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    (by Min Ma)

  • taking out all of my organs washing them thoroughly wringing them out and putting them out to dry would fix me

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    realized that probably most people haven’t read the daniel martinico ds9 letter. this is classic literature me

  • I not only read this, I kept it on the cork board in my office for the entire time I was on staff.

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    &. lilac theme by seyche