from Joel
Whenever the dogs are sleeping and I'm not, I know that there will come a time when I am sleeping and the dogs are not.
Read the latest posts from The Voyage of the Dimetrodon.
from Joel
Whenever the dogs are sleeping and I'm not, I know that there will come a time when I am sleeping and the dogs are not.
from deilann
about six months ago, i said
sorry-not-sorry marxists
this was an off hand flippant response to my own statement
liberation for all requires abandoning the dialectic
recently, i boosted some posts in this thread and @burnoutqueen@tech.lgbt asked me what i meant by it. which i actually think merits a serious answer, despite the flippancy of the statement.
my issues with marxism are a theory quibble. a theory quibble that doesn't actually have anything to do with what anyone who identifies as a marxist believes. but it does impact how they are seen, so worth hashing out.
i and many others see dialectical materialism as a necessary piece of what one would consider marxism. i know many self-proclaimed marxists who, for one reason or another, do not see it as crucial and use the label marxist for other reasons. what those reasons are, are individual. i have no interest in defining marxism for those who use the label. what i am interested in is discussing my issues with dialectical materialism because it's so associated with marxism itself.
i actually personally find dialectics a very useful tool for modeling reality and seeing it through specific lenses. the trouble is, like all models, it's not reality. because i don't think binary categories exist – even on the label of category and its complement. so i don't think “cats” and “non-cats” exist. i think that there is a lot of value in certain circumstances to accept “cats” and “non-cats” as categories, but only when we discard such dialectics when the model interferes with its intended purpose.
similarly, i think looking at things as having fundamental contradictions as dialectical materialism requires is faulty. and furthermore, seeing these resolves through synthesis to thesis is concerning because they take these contradictions as material reality.
particularly, the damage i see in dialectical materialism is setting up things in opposition. even when it's a useful model (and one i engage with myself) i think this intellectual framework feeds an idea of being at odds, of conflicting needs, on a social level that we must dismantle. this is why i brought it up in context of purity culture.
while dialectics are an attempt to understand interconnectedness, they do so through a method of reductionist conflict that ignores the spectra of material reality we trudge through every day. looking at social processes as conflict itself is troubled and a choice. starting framing comes with entailments that are hard to put down once we start with them.
and when i see, time and time again, Leftists chasing some sort of purity culture, trying to out the discord in our ranks of those who are finding the bad takes, who is doing harm, and putting these ideas in terms of conflict, of conflicting needs, of one demographic vs another, what i see is a model that itself has influenced how we think and navigate social systems and processes despite its failure to accurately describe what we need to talk about in order to move towards change.
so not only are dialectics themselves disconnected from lived reality, the entailments that come with dialectical materialism concern me heavily, and feed a culture of conflict over a culture of liberation
from deilann
in general, if you do not reach someone, call again until you do. lines are busy right now, but people are there to help.
click for more detailed information on each line
lgbt national help center trans lifeline (hablan español) thive lifeline (18+) call BlackLine wildflower alliance Strong Hearts Native helpline
see also don't call the police
information provided is gathered from their website or reaching out. i am not affiliated with any of these organizations nor can i vouch for them. more information does not mean i think an option is better just that more information i thought might be helpful was easy to gather. please contact me at @deilann@tech.lgbt if you are aware of more resources to add or for corrections
focus: lgbt community offers: phone support, peer chat, youth-specific services, senior-specific services hours: Mon-Fri 1pm – 9pm pacific time; Sat 9am – 2pm pacific time
national hotline: 888-843-4564 coming out support: 888-688-5428 youth hotline (25yo and younger): 800-246-7743 senior hotline (50yo and older): 888-234-7243 peer chat weekly youth chat (19yo and younger)
from information on the national hotline:
We provide a safe space while on a call.
All of our peer support volunteers are trained and identify as part of the LGBTQIA+ community.
Our calls are confidential. We don’t know who you are.
There are no recordings made of your conversation.
If you would like us to search for local resources near you, we might ask for your zip code/postal code or city, state, or country. We will never ask for your exact address.
Sometimes our conversations can be heavy, and a person might need to end the call. That’s ok. You will not be judged, and we’re very glad you spoke to us for the amount of time you did.
We don’t call other suicide hotlines, 911, or rescue services on your behalf. While we will not make those calls for you, we will do our best to provide you with the phone numbers to call for yourself if you choose, and we will stay on the line if you like (The exception is if you make a credible threat to someone else).
If you attempt to start a call during open hours and can’t get through, that means that all of our volunteers are currently talking with other people. Please try back in a few minutes. Should you still not be able to get through, you are always welcome to email us at help@LGBThotline.org.
focus: trans community offers: phone support, soporte telefónico en español hours: 10am – 6pm pacific time call: 877-565-8860 (US) 877-330-6366 (canada) [oprime 2 para hablar con alguien en español]
from information on the hotline
Trans Lifeline’s Hotline is a peer support phone service run by trans people for our trans and questioning peers. Call us if you need someone trans to talk to, even if you’re not in a crisis or if you’re not sure you’re trans.
- When you call, you’ll speak to a trans/nonbinary peer operator
- Full anonymity and confidentiality
- No non-consensual active rescue (calling 911, emergency services, or law enforcement)
de la información de la línea directa
La línea directa de Trans Lifeline es un servicio telefónico de apoyo entre pares dirigido por personas transgénero para las personas transgénero o que están cuestionando su género. Llámanos si necesitas a alguien Trans con quien hablar, incluso si no estás en crisis o no sabes con certeza si eres transgénero.
- Cuando llames, hablarás con una persona trans y/o no binaria.
- Total anonimato y confidencialidad.
- Ningún rescate activo no consentido (no llamamos al 911, a los servicios de emergencia o a las autoridades)
focus: underrepresented individuals, trans led and operated offers: text support, 18+ only hours: 24/7 text: text THRIVE to 313-662-8209
from their home page:
If you’re experiencing a mental health crisis and need to chat with a qualified crisis responder, we are here for you.
If you are an underrepresented individual (person of color, LGBTQ2S+, person living with disabilities, neurodivergent, and/or other marginalized identities), and experiencing obstacles because of (or simply have questions about) your identities, we want to help you navigate those.
We are experienced suicide interveners who will help keep you safe during times of acute mental health crises. If you are not in an acute crisis, but are dealing with stress as you navigate identity, orientation, or barriers to academic and professional entry, we can help! We are here to support your whole-self and we’re happy to help you during these troubling times.
THRIVE Lifeline offers 24/7/365 judgment-free, confidential text messaging to individuals aged 18+.
focus: lgbtq+ black femme lens offers: phone support, text chat, mobile apps hours: Mon-Fri 9am – 5pm eastern time; Sat-Sun 7pm – 11 pm eastern time call or text: 800-604-5841 mobile apps: apple app store google play store
from their FAQ
The purpose of the BlackLine is provide people with an avenue to report negative, physical and inappropriate contact with police and vigilantes. Vigilante contact is included, due to what happens to folks in rural and suburban communities from local community member. BlackLine is an anonymous and confidential avenue to report these interactions. BlackLine can gather the needed information to share with local community organizers and officials on the best response to this type of police and vigilante contact.
We are here for you. We are here to listen and affirm. We know there are all sorts of reasons that you may need someone to speak to. We also know that police, law enforcement and vigilante encounters can be traumatic, upsetting, or worse. In the hopes of changing the way our communities are policed, we hope to speak to people who have had negative experiences with law enforcement or vigilantes. We want to help build a new network of support that our community can rely on.
BlackLine can provide immediate crisis counseling to those who call upset, need to talk with someone immediately, in distress.
focus: from about us “broader communities and people who have been impacted by psychiatric diagnosis, trauma, extreme states, homelessness, problems with substances and other life-interrupting challenges” offers: phone peer support hours: Mon-Thu 7pm – 9pm eastern time; Fri-Sun 7pm – 10pm eastern time call: 888-407-4515
from the page for their peer support line
Our peer support line is answered by a trained peer supporter who has their own first-hand experience with psychiatric diagnosis, trauma, addiction, and/or other interrupting challenges. This line does not collect personal information, perform assessment, or call crisis or the police.
focus: native americans & alaska natives, domestic and sexual violence offers: phone support, text support, chat support (13 years and older) hours: 24/7 call or text: 844-7NATIVE (844-762-8483) chat: web based chat (13 years and older only)
from their home page:
StrongHearts Native Helpline (1-844-762-8483) is a 24/7 confidential and anonymous culturally-appropriate domestic and sexual violence helpline for Native Americans. StrongHearts advocates offer the following services at no cost:
- Peer support and advocacy
- Information and education about domestic violence and sexual violence
- Personalized safety planning
- Crisis intervention
- Referrals to Native-centered domestic violence and sexual violence service providers
- Basic information about health options
- Support finding a local health facility or crisis center trained in the care of survivors of sexual assault and forensic exams
- General information about jurisdiction and legal advocacy referrals
#Resources
from deilann
if you have the drive and ability and funds, pursue basic emergency medical response training. not for the cert, by the way, but a reputable source for the skills and some verification you absorbed the knowledge. you don't need certification to be a street medic, but you do need to be honest about your skills.
note that the role of the street medic, like legal observers, is different at protests because you need to stay in a position where you are able to help and respond to medical emergencies. being a street medic means taking fewer risks for the safety of others.
always identify yourself. not only so that those in need can find you. if you did your due diligence to be identifiable they have a harder time justifying violence against you and interference (theoretically you are supposed to get some protection due to medical neutrality but cops be cops and this is not enshrined in law most places)
if you can get specific protest medical training in your area i highly suggest that on top of traditional emergency medicine training as the medical needs in a protest are different
exposure to chemical agents, injuries from dogs and horses, seizures, general trauma from “less-lethal” non-chemical “crowd control” tactics, exposure, dehydration, and general trauma tend to be the most common issues that need treating
street medic specific training is not always as immediately available in some areas, which is part of why some areas have a dearth of street medics. so please, get what training you can.
#USpol #WhatNow
from deilann
this is not a post calling for unity. if you read this post and come away thinking i want the united states to come together, i have failed at communication.
i have spent much of the last year traveling some of the reddest parts of the united states. i am trans. i pass pretty well. i am white. this has given me the ability to navigate these worlds in a way that helped me see a lot of what's going on in a way others... can't.
i travel for a lot of reasons. i think it's important to see how climate change is affecting areas i haven't lived in. i have random impulses to climb trees and mountains. i feel unsafe in general due to domestic violence.
but a huge part of why i travel is i think it's crucial to know people.
choice blindness is a real thing. post-hoc justification of many of the decisions we make is necessary when there are simply so many decisions to make each day. and this is part of our attitude formation.
if we look at attitude formation in the narrow lens of attitudes towards trans folks, we see that the more queer folks you know, the more likely you are to better understand and support trans folks. This has been validated in Portugal and Spain.
abigail thorne's most recent video (at time of writing) discusses the information silos we find ourselves in as things become more and more divided. but, the trouble i have with reducing this discussion to online news and media is that it discounts the lived reality of huge swathes of america...
and their offline lives.
it's easy to think everyone has the same resources, now that the internet exists. to think we're on an equal playing field in that way. but we're not.
before shifting to traveling, i lived in rural wisconsin. the county and village i lived in leaned right, but not heavily. politics were complicated. it's difficult to deny climate change as a farmer. but at the same time, it's difficult to feel like both parties aren't trying to use you for a photo op and then leave you in the dirt once they're elected.
everyone claims to care about farmers while getting elected. but once they're elected, they only care about conagra. midwest politics are complicated. anyone who tells you different is lying. obviously, politics are complicated everywhere. but they're messy in the midwest.
i regularly had to interact with open trump supporters to survive. i'm legally blind. i can't drive. my direct neighbor was fighting cancer. he was a vietnam vet. he was a huge part of my support network. he wasn't a trump supporter. but the local caretaker was. they fought a lot over it. especially considering the caretaker only had insurance thanks to obamacare.
only half of the village where i lived had access to high-speed internet. we were also in a weird cellphone dead zone so landlines were common. we were lucky to have a small library, but most folks relied on things like cable news and radio for news coverage. our local county paper sometimes covered politics, but only in the most general sense.
one thing my neighbor told me was how he thought the internet and vietnam would change things. he thought that racism was behind us. he was exhausted and sickened seeing these things flare up again. he didn't understand how we were here again. he thought his kids and grand kids would have a better life than they do.
and that, that right there, is the heart of it-
life is hard.
life is hard in the city. but it's not easy anywhere. it's more expensive in a lot of ways to live in rural america. a lot of people told me i should just move. but i don't thrive in cities. they leech my soul.
my neighbor told me that he found trans coverage confusing once. but having met me, he kinda got it. despite mostly passing, he still had trouble with my pronouns from time to time – life sure is weird – but he always socially gendered me correctly. when we'd shoot the shit, we shot it like men. i felt safe with him. he wasn't a leftist by any means. he was a centrist who wanted the best for everyone and knew that he didn't know everything.
he had a bleeding heart.
my village was about 1000 folks. mostly white, with some latinx folks. it was racist. but it was racist in a very 00s way.
someone had put up a fuck biden sign at some point along the highway. it kept getting reported to the sheriffs by 'both sides of the aisle.' because there was still, in a lot of ways, that sense of needing to 'respect the office.'
most of the trump supporters weren't the ones you hear about. they weren't sure the election was fair, but not in a stop-the-steal kind of way. they voted for trump because they still believed in trickle-down economics and were struggling. because the southern strategy had worked on them. because their children were leaving and they'd have to sell the farm soon.
they didn't believe the lies we know are lies because they're stupid. they believed them because there's not enough time in the day to dismantle every fucking lie and even less time to do so with on low speed satellite internet.
they had shit to do. like figuring out how to keep the electric on.
it's easy to think about hate
about how 72 million americans today affirmed that i am not a person
but that's a trap
i know and have heard so many trump supporters say those things
so many of them are just avid racists
but it's important to understand that many of them are instead complicit
i do not say this to try and wash their hands of the real consequences of their actions
but it's important because we talk about deradicalization
and i think that's the wrong focus
we need to remember that the vast majority of trump supporters are not who we're sold on but folks trapped and scared – yes, with marginally more power and influence than many who will read this, but trapped and scared nevertheless
remembering that those who act to disenfranchise us, to bring about fascism are human, not monsters is necessary in dismantling the systems they enable
i am not asking anyone to try and reach out, to sway trump voters to the other side. but i do think that attempting to assume why they voted for trump, what they think, and what they believe is dangerous – and is more likely to push them towards radicalization
recognizing that those who voted for trump are human is the first step in recognizing how we move forward.
right now, what we need more than anything is community. we need to support each other. we are all struggling.
capitalism is killing us
check in on your neighbors. how are they doing? do you know? is it safe for you to find out?
do you have leftovers?
i promise you, someone in your area is food insecure.
hyperlocal solidarity as simple as knowing your neighbors and their struggles to figure out what you as a smaller community need and how you can do mutual aid on that level is super fucking powerful.
do you have narcan? epinephrine? albuterol? plan b? insulin? hrt?
it would be illegal for you to share, but letting others know you have them isn't!
you may feel alone but I promise you, no matter where you are, you aren't. but that other person feels just as alone as you.
if you can safely find a way to form community, that, in and of itself, is life saving. and it's where real politics starts.
#USPol #WhatNow
from Joel
After bending the zipper pull a few more times, it has now broken completely. We're just gonna have to keep the dogs on leashes until we leave tomorrow. Why TF would you make such a vital component out of such thin, brittle metal and not have any backup?
from Joel
I was able to greatly improve the performance of our zipper pull by applying uniform pressure with my needle-nose pliers. The zipper is giving us a lot less trouble now.
Leo went fishing this afternoon, didn't catch anything, but said it was still a very nice peaceful and meditative experience. While he was gone, Molly went for a walk. I drove around the campsite looking for her, didn't find her. I asked someone at the neighboring campsite if they'd seen a beagle, and a little while later they came back with Molly in hand, said she'd just been wandering around. I logged 4 hours of DA work today.
I booked us at the house we stayed at in Hiawatha last year on AirBnB. The host remembers us from last year and had good things to say about us, so hopefully our BS reviews won't have so much of an effect. We'll move there on Tuesday. It will be nice to have a house again. You don't really appreciate having ready access to clean water and toilet and laundry facilities until you've had to live without them for a few days. Then you realize just how quickly civilization would fall apart without them.
from Joel
Monkey escaped today. He chewed through his harness and ran around the woods for several hours before finally getting tired and coming back on his own. While he was out, he treed a cat and flushed at least six deer. The cat got down from the tree and got away. Not sure about the deer. I managed to tie a knot in the strap that seems to be holding; hopefully it will continue to do so. Since he came back, Monkey has been sleeping pretty well non-stop with one notable exception.
Spider has been keening at something in the woods all day. I think he can hear the coyotes and wants to go make friends with them. I don't know how to explain to him that that's not a good idea.
I went to Wal-Mart and got us some electric heating pads. I don't know why I didn't think of it before. I guess I was too busy looking for something in the camping supplies while missing the much more obvious solution. Our sleeping bags are so much more pleasant now. Sometimes It's best to just think simple.
While I was gone, Spider and Monkey both escaped. They were in the tent and managed to push the zipper on the door open while Leo was sleeping. I drove back to see them both running along the road and they got into my Jeep without too much protest. The zipper on our tent flap has been giving us a lot of issues and is getting really hard to close without it splitting open. I hope it holds as that's sort of our main way of holding the dogs in.
from Joel
Happy Halloween. We survived alright the rain last night. Though Leo said his sleeping bag was soaked and the dogs were hogging it, so he didn't get a lot of sleep. Today is going to be cold all day. Tomorrow will be slightly warmer. We are expecting more rain over the weekend. I called ATC and the parts that they needed to get started on the week-long repair job on the Dimetrodon that were very definitely going to be there by Tuesday or Wednesday at the latest are expected to arrive today. I'm sure I can expect them to begin work next week and maybe if I'm very lucky be done the following week.
from deilann
a soft breeze. the sun high in the sky.
i knew, deep down, i needed to cover more skin. that as the sun dipped, i would begin to feel the chill, and it would start whining despite my blissful status quo.
this would annoy my partner in crime. and the dogs.
“i need a hoodie,” i declared as we sat, tangled with leashes and anticipation. “before we proceed.”
we had been discussing my enjoyment of the weather. of how my partner in crime was layered, already feeling the chill, but i was lounging in shorts and a thin shirt, eagerly feasting on the fall winds.
“you don't have a hoodie that will work?” my partner in crime asked, seeming surprised.
“no,” i insisted. “not... right now.” i felt pleased with my perceived ability to convey the complex weave of information surrounding my clothing status. “and i do not want to disappoint the dogs.”
“there are a lot of stores nearby,” my partner in crime said. “we can stop by, get you a hoodie before we go.” he handed me his phone, deferring the decision as to where to seek out the garment in question. it was only fair. he was wrapped sufficiently. i was not.
i isolated a target that i felt sure would have what i needed. hood. zipper. front pocket. fabric that did not scream against my skin. it was not clear to me why i felt this clone-of-many would be able to provide for my needs. yet, i felt sure.
“is this one okay?” i asked. it was 8 minutes away. i had not been given acceptable proximity parameters.
i was reassured that the proximity was sufficient. i thought of hoodies as we drove.
as i stood in front of the glass doors, i was still thinking of hoodies. the glass doors did not move. i tried one. it was locked. i tried another. it was locked. i stood in front of the sliding door in the center, designed to know when it was needed. it did not know.
i hopped. it seemed to recognize me. i was now no longer thinking about hoodies, but doors.
i was greeted by colorful racks of clothing in every direction. garish patterns and overwhelming textures. they were distasteful, made my skin ache looking at them. i tried to put them out of my mind. their signifiers made it clear that this was the section forbidden to me. it was full of color and choice. i needed to find the men's clothing.
i traversed the edge of the store, guard up, fearful that some employee might seek out conversation and ask what i was looking for. i knew what i needed. hoodie. hoodie was what i came for. but i did not know if i could perform the social dance of explaining to them what a hoodie was. language, i knew, was dangerous. it could constrict me into purchasing a non-hoodie, something the employee understood as hoodie but was not.
thankfully, no such confrontation came. i stumbled through the pet section, feeling much safer now that i had managed to push past the forbidden zones. plush and dog beds and collars and leashes were familiar to me. i tarried only a moment to touch the fabric on a set of plush dog stairs. molly had trouble getting on the bed. she would like it. i noted the price and moved on, continued my hunt.
suit jackets informed me i had made it into the sections i was allowed to peruse without fear. i could spend time now pursuing my quarry.
i started to feel confident. it was the correct season and i had chosen my hunting grounds well, a land where everyone layered, knowing the winds would change.
i touched fabrics and looked at garments. many were too warm. i needed a hoodie, not a jacket. others were pull over. this was incorrect. i needed to be able to unzip and let the fall breeze caress my body without removing the garment from time to time.
spending some time at once rack, i noticed that these garments seemed appropriate but once i removed one (the sign of a decision almost formed) i was crushed. it did not even have a hood. i had been tricked.
crushed, i found my meandering path taking me to the work wear section. surely, in this land of men who stand next to trees while performing their labor, i could find the perfect hoodie. a garment as full of utility as durability, able to be worn while active without discomfort. how naive i was.
i stood, having found everything i had told myself a hoodie was, but only to have my anger simmer forth. CAT it said, on the chest. But not the good kind of cat that tortures you when you need it most and cuddles you when you need it least. no, the kind of CAT that designs bulldozers meant to demolish houses with the residents still inside. it was exactly what i needed but i could not even bring myself to touch the cursed fabric.
my prowl continued, unable to unsee the labels on the fabrics that siloed all of us into brand consumers. i realized my understanding of hoodie was incomplete. i had not realized that hoodie did not just mean hood. zipper. front pocket. fabric that did not make my skin scream. it also required not selling myself in the process. this upset me. i should have processed this earlier.
the men's section came to an end and with it, my stomach dropped. clothing. active wear. work wear. none of it had a single hoodie. my hands were still empty, devoid of fabric.
i moved to the edge of the store again, determined to release myself from this hell of stimulation that couldn't even sate my basic needs. but i stilled when i saw a flannel that seemed reasonable. that was a flannel, my understanding of one, at least.
tucked into the corner of the store, it declared itself the silo for young men's apparel. the millennial inside me spat. how could this section declare me young, deny that i'm an adult. that was my job. but i could not deny how i was drawn to the fabrics and styles hidden away in this secret corner.
i touched a garment and i did not pull away. consumption was still on full display, emblazoned on almost everything smothering me. and yet, here and there, a garment or two would be naked of this blatant display of capitalism. and there it was.
not a jacket, the fabric warm but not smothering. soft inside, not making my skin seethe. a zipper. a hood. and no mark, no burden. after all this time, i had found hoodie, hiding away in this small stash of unadorned designs.
my body rebelled, unable to believe that this could be the only one. it came in three colors. black. blue. a third dark tone i couldn't identify. I found a blue one in the correct hoodie size, two sizes larger and held it for a long time. then began my search again, needing to prove to myself it was not the only hoodie in this entire store.
as i whirled through more displays and fabrics, relegated to the small space of this secret corner, my stomach dropped as i realized...
it was.
#NonFiction