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One way that online consumption gets disgusting is through hyperconsumption without any regard to space or safety. No, there’s not established “amounts” of a single person you should consume or not consume. Everyone retweets. Everyone reblogs. Everyone favorites. I do all three as well. At the same time, there are people I have had to call out to stop favoriting every single one of my tweets. I don’t mean favoriting a whole thread of mine on a particular concept. That’s fine as long as it’s not a journalist or academic doing it since 99% of the time they think that favoriting entire threads or doing keyword searches with my name is “research” and everything that they “find” can be used as their content without citation. I mean every single one favorited. Or at least 75% of them. Regardless of how mundane. There’s been people doing this with every single tweet in the past. Where a “favorite” would pop up 23 seconds after I sent the tweet. This feels like suffocation and surveillance, and it is out of control. There is no one person–even those I appreciate and like or love online–where I read and then favorite every single tweet that they send. I might read every essay/article that they write if they are a good writer, but I don’t reblog every single post that they share if they use Tumblr and I usually only share their posts on Twitter (outside of if they tweeted it themselves and then I retweet it, or they don’t mind it being shared) if they are published on mainstream sites, meaning that those people have some semblance of institutional protection, something that I do not have myself. Some people I have asked before posting to Twitter because their post was that sensitive. If they mark that a post shouldn’t be reblogged, I accept that as well. I accept that people might need some space and not need me literally chasing them down like some sort of parasite in human size. I also don’t reblog their posts with a red herring added as a note or add like 4-7 paragraphs (because that is an essay, not a comment) on something totally different just to center myself in their space and thirstily hope to gain their audience’s attention. True, I am a stan of some writers–especially really good Black ones–but I am not interested in chasing them down to the point that they mention feeling suffocated. I have seen several say that they feel this way. Some have told me this in private as well.
I’ve tweeted about this before, in detail–in Archive Creeping and in Hypervisibility Hell–because this evades people. Most people have no clue what I am talking about here because in America we have to pretend that attention is always good, always currency, always the goal, and has zero consequences. (People even circulate the lie that follow count is the same as privilege; no it is not.) Some people think being obsessively consumed beyond a reasonable way should “flatter” me or instead they reply with some annoying puffery instead of actually listening to what I said about this or just leaving me alone. They think reblogging 25-50 of my essays in a single day, and old ones at that, is a good thing. Thus, someone views blogs from people who do this, and it looks like a Xerox copy of mine specifically, which is actually a small annoyance compared to the larger one of being re-exposed to be trolled on 25-50 old posts plus whatever my last 20 or so new ones might be, and not by my own awareness or choice that comes with me choosing to share old posts; that choice there makes a difference in terms of some semblance of preparation for abuse. But who cares, nothing is more important than out of control consumption with total disregard for the person being consumed or the consequences of said consumption that the person has written about for years, right? But those essays are overlooked. They’re unironically not among the ones reblogged in a way that reveals zero temperance or concern. This way, the cognitive dissonance between “I read ‘everything’ you write” and “I had ‘no clue’ you were ever trolled online ever” can be their permanent stance. Because I understand how women of colour, especially Black women, are targeted and abused online, this informs how I consume, how I share, when, and how much. At times it impacts whether I retweet another woman of colour or not because I know that people who hate me will then target that person if their audience is smaller. It informs a lot for me because I actually think about women of colour and their experiences online and at times need to elevate these experiences over my own consumption desires, to be quite honest. Yes, I think online safety matters more than sheer consumption at times. I am weird like that. Because women of colour are actually people to me–not just pain receptacles or Fact Portals to produce knowledge to consume with absolutely no self-control whatsoever–this comes to mind for me.
Another way that online consumption gets disgusting is through endless opinion demands/attempts to control/ignoring consent. These are people who are not content with over 400K+ tweets, 1200+ essays/long form writing posts, 3000+ answered questions/comments on Ask FM, 75 Storify posts etc. of mine. Clearly not “enough.” These are people who think I “owe” them opinions on whatever the fuck they desire and to the point that they start making unpaid labor demands or violent labor demands (“debate with me on why Black people are not human and then I will pay you money;” yes, these demands have actually been sent to me and I am not being hyperbolic; I wish I were; this is how vile and how much people hate me personally and hate Black women/Black people in general) and they think that this is okay. These are also people who come slithering around demanding anti-Black opinions on Black people and homophobia or Black female celebrities, for example, and if my opinion is not vile, dehumanizing and disgusting, but in fact accurate, humane and nuanced, then the critique “didn’t happen;” it never existed to these people. These are people who will ignore lots of in-depth conversations that I choose to have online or questions that I choose to answer, and dump violent links in my mentions or messages and demand analysis of said violence. These are people who genuinely believe that hyperconsumption of visuals of Black death is “the real activism” and that their sharing of said consumption with me does not require my consent at all. These are people who see me discuss a topic on Twitter where a question is answered so they passive aggressively slither over to Ask FM to ask the same question minutes later because they like the idea of my time being wasted and my emotional labor being used for a second time. These are people who once they see that I mention that I do not want to discuss a certain topic, the idea of violating my boundaries is so deeply pleasurable to them amidst their clearly miserable and useless existences that they then start to badger me for opinions and answers on whatever topic I said that I do not want to discuss. These are people who force celebrity handles and hashtags into my tweets to try to bait me into arguments like their dog being trained. These are people who think that Black women are angry junkyard dogs so they have the fucking audacity, the utter fucking gall to slither into my messages to ask me to drag someone for them. These are people who only want to consume commentary on Black death and they follow/unfollow based on a calendar that matches extrajudicial executions, and they are angry when I share anything that brings me joy. And while a majority of these people are Whites/men, no, it’s not only them doing this. At all. Some women of colour are complicit as well.
Now is the time for the predictable victim blaming and intellectual dishonesty, yes? So let me run through the utterly quotidian garbage that will arise in response. No, I don’t hate people who share what I write, in accordance with my Content Use Policy or retweet, reblog, like and favorite in a sensible way. Of course this is okay. I am speaking of very specific hyperconsumption without regard to my space or safety and it is not the same as how people share normally, or how people engage a multitude of voices versus honing in on me in an obsessive way. I have made this clear here. Anyone who suggests these are the same is willfully obtuse and do not want to examine their own behavior; trust me. How convenient, for example, to hyperconsume behind a fake avi, fake online name, lower follower count, and not be targeted in the way that I am, while critiquing my response to what happens to me? No, I don’t mind people asking me reasonable questions and having reasonable conversations. Again, this is not the same as opinion demanding and violating consent. And if anyone cannot see the difference between obsessive and demanding behavior versus reasonable behavior, they either think that I deserve harm or they’re behaving like this and don’t want it put under a magnifying glass. And finally, no, I don’t have to “expect violence” in a “public space” because “it’s the internet” and everyone has “free speech.” I don’t need “what were you wearing” type commentary applied to online behavior and people’s out of control actions that honesty reflects misogynoir. So I am not human enough to consider my reasonable space and necessary safety, I am only a product to consume and should be “glad” to be consumed in these really outlandish ways, and I “owe” emotional and intellectual labor to people on demand? All of this is about dehumanization. And some of it is about how utterly disgusting consumption can become and mainly because we are, again, in a society that tells people that there’s no higher virtue than being consumed and no higher currency other than attention, which regularly gets placed over money even, in a social way, if not in a structural way, of course.
http://www.gradientlair.com/post/125545571788/when-online-consumption-gets-disgusting
I’ve tweeted about this before, in detail–in Archive Creeping and in Hypervisibility Hell–because this evades people. Most people have no clue what I am talking about here because in America we have to pretend that attention is always good, always currency, always the goal, and has zero consequences. (People even circulate the lie that follow count is the same as privilege; no it is not.) Some people think being obsessively consumed beyond a reasonable way should “flatter” me or instead they reply with some annoying puffery instead of actually listening to what I said about this or just leaving me alone. They think reblogging 25-50 of my essays in a single day, and old ones at that, is a good thing. Thus, someone views blogs from people who do this, and it looks like a Xerox copy of mine specifically, which is actually a small annoyance compared to the larger one of being re-exposed to be trolled on 25-50 old posts plus whatever my last 20 or so new ones might be, and not by my own awareness or choice that comes with me choosing to share old posts; that choice there makes a difference in terms of some semblance of preparation for abuse. But who cares, nothing is more important than out of control consumption with total disregard for the person being consumed or the consequences of said consumption that the person has written about for years, right? But those essays are overlooked. They’re unironically not among the ones reblogged in a way that reveals zero temperance or concern. This way, the cognitive dissonance between “I read ‘everything’ you write” and “I had ‘no clue’ you were ever trolled online ever” can be their permanent stance. Because I understand how women of colour, especially Black women, are targeted and abused online, this informs how I consume, how I share, when, and how much. At times it impacts whether I retweet another woman of colour or not because I know that people who hate me will then target that person if their audience is smaller. It informs a lot for me because I actually think about women of colour and their experiences online and at times need to elevate these experiences over my own consumption desires, to be quite honest. Yes, I think online safety matters more than sheer consumption at times. I am weird like that. Because women of colour are actually people to me–not just pain receptacles or Fact Portals to produce knowledge to consume with absolutely no self-control whatsoever–this comes to mind for me.
Another way that online consumption gets disgusting is through endless opinion demands/attempts to control/ignoring consent. These are people who are not content with over 400K+ tweets, 1200+ essays/long form writing posts, 3000+ answered questions/comments on Ask FM, 75 Storify posts etc. of mine. Clearly not “enough.” These are people who think I “owe” them opinions on whatever the fuck they desire and to the point that they start making unpaid labor demands or violent labor demands (“debate with me on why Black people are not human and then I will pay you money;” yes, these demands have actually been sent to me and I am not being hyperbolic; I wish I were; this is how vile and how much people hate me personally and hate Black women/Black people in general) and they think that this is okay. These are also people who come slithering around demanding anti-Black opinions on Black people and homophobia or Black female celebrities, for example, and if my opinion is not vile, dehumanizing and disgusting, but in fact accurate, humane and nuanced, then the critique “didn’t happen;” it never existed to these people. These are people who will ignore lots of in-depth conversations that I choose to have online or questions that I choose to answer, and dump violent links in my mentions or messages and demand analysis of said violence. These are people who genuinely believe that hyperconsumption of visuals of Black death is “the real activism” and that their sharing of said consumption with me does not require my consent at all. These are people who see me discuss a topic on Twitter where a question is answered so they passive aggressively slither over to Ask FM to ask the same question minutes later because they like the idea of my time being wasted and my emotional labor being used for a second time. These are people who once they see that I mention that I do not want to discuss a certain topic, the idea of violating my boundaries is so deeply pleasurable to them amidst their clearly miserable and useless existences that they then start to badger me for opinions and answers on whatever topic I said that I do not want to discuss. These are people who force celebrity handles and hashtags into my tweets to try to bait me into arguments like their dog being trained. These are people who think that Black women are angry junkyard dogs so they have the fucking audacity, the utter fucking gall to slither into my messages to ask me to drag someone for them. These are people who only want to consume commentary on Black death and they follow/unfollow based on a calendar that matches extrajudicial executions, and they are angry when I share anything that brings me joy. And while a majority of these people are Whites/men, no, it’s not only them doing this. At all. Some women of colour are complicit as well.
Now is the time for the predictable victim blaming and intellectual dishonesty, yes? So let me run through the utterly quotidian garbage that will arise in response. No, I don’t hate people who share what I write, in accordance with my Content Use Policy or retweet, reblog, like and favorite in a sensible way. Of course this is okay. I am speaking of very specific hyperconsumption without regard to my space or safety and it is not the same as how people share normally, or how people engage a multitude of voices versus honing in on me in an obsessive way. I have made this clear here. Anyone who suggests these are the same is willfully obtuse and do not want to examine their own behavior; trust me. How convenient, for example, to hyperconsume behind a fake avi, fake online name, lower follower count, and not be targeted in the way that I am, while critiquing my response to what happens to me? No, I don’t mind people asking me reasonable questions and having reasonable conversations. Again, this is not the same as opinion demanding and violating consent. And if anyone cannot see the difference between obsessive and demanding behavior versus reasonable behavior, they either think that I deserve harm or they’re behaving like this and don’t want it put under a magnifying glass. And finally, no, I don’t have to “expect violence” in a “public space” because “it’s the internet” and everyone has “free speech.” I don’t need “what were you wearing” type commentary applied to online behavior and people’s out of control actions that honesty reflects misogynoir. So I am not human enough to consider my reasonable space and necessary safety, I am only a product to consume and should be “glad” to be consumed in these really outlandish ways, and I “owe” emotional and intellectual labor to people on demand? All of this is about dehumanization. And some of it is about how utterly disgusting consumption can become and mainly because we are, again, in a society that tells people that there’s no higher virtue than being consumed and no higher currency other than attention, which regularly gets placed over money even, in a social way, if not in a structural way, of course.
http://www.gradientlair.com/post/125545571788/when-online-consumption-gets-disgusting
https://vine.co/v/egb2wjLnH26
baby bobcat on the hunt
baby bobcat on the hunt
my underpita went unappreciated
who are you people
who are you people
anon is stagnating and its the same people doing the same wanks over and over
I’m about to have a fun afternoon.
So my trainer’s bf cheated on her. She broke up with him. He’s holding her stuff hostage until she agrees to talk with him. Which she refuses.
She trains; for free mind you; three college linebackers, a college wrestler, two martial artists, a body builder, and… wait for it…. a Navy seal. We’re gonna go get her shit for her.
This should make for an interesting story.
So everyone who commented on this being like the avengers, you are absolutely right. That’s what all of us had in our heads as we were rolling over to dude’s house. But I’m very proud to say, this ended without violence.
Arrival:
So the super friends all jumped into one of the linebacker’s explorer and headed over to dude’s house. Ok the squad: you all know me, but the other martial artist is a little wirey hapkido guy, the linebackers are all giants (an estimated combined weight of I’d say 750-800lbs), the wrestler looks like an escaped gorilla, then the navy seal looks like your average guy but something about him is unsettling. Really unsettling. Unfortunately, the body builder had to work. Anyway, we send the Hapkido guy and the wrestler to the door first and dude answers, screams at them, and then slams the door in their face. Then the giant linebackers head over and they ring the door bell again. Lo and behold, he was much more polite, but still denied access. Finally, me and the seal join the fray. I casually make my way towards the front of the group, but the seal decides to CLIMB THE BANISTER. We all just turned and started at him completely shocked when dude answers the door. He looks at this weird mismatched group of relatively threatening individuals and one guy perched on his banister like batman. He was like “FINE. Go take what you’re looking for.”
Retrieval:
So we’re all walking through the house gathering what we think are her things and putting them into two boxes. Mind you. We are completely guessing. We didn’t even tell her we were coming, therefore we had no list of items.The only one really being productive was Hapkido, who was legitimately looking for stuff. The linebackers were just randomly picking up furniture, turning it over, and putting it back down. Just showing off how strong they were. In case the numbers game wasn’t enough, I guess they were letting him know they could break him if they wanted to. The seal was just shadowing dude in his own house. Walking behind him, not saying much, just being creepy. Then there’s me. Who was causing general mischief…. He said to take what I was looking for, that’s what I was looking for. Ahaha and the wrestler made a fricken sandwich. Because “you guys look like you have it under control, and I’m a sucker for egg salad.” We were in and out in 15 minutes.
Delivery:
So the autobots rolled out and headed towards homegirl’s spot. She was conveniently outside when we rolled up. We got out and she was like, how do you all even know each other. The truth is, we don’t. She sent us all an email once and didn’t blind copy us all. She vented to all of us about dude holding onto her stuff and we started emailing and that was that. We told her that we went to see her ex. “OMG what did you say to him?” Nothing. We’re not messenger boys. We’re delivery boys. And we gave her her boxes of stuff. She went through the first box and said that was most of her stuff. Then she got to my box and asked “Wtf is all that shit.” So I explained that I took all the batteries out of his remote controls, his deodorant, the light bulb out of his master closet, every pair of dress socks that I could find, the laces out of his running shoes, and all the toilet paper in the house. The guys just looked at me and kind of nodded like they were impressed. She then unexpectedly started CRYING and thanked us. So you have this group of meat heads all standing awkwardly with this weeping trainer. It was quiet for a second when the seal was like “So…. Chipotle?” And we all got burrito bowls.
What a great day.
So my trainer’s bf cheated on her. She broke up with him. He’s holding her stuff hostage until she agrees to talk with him. Which she refuses.
She trains; for free mind you; three college linebackers, a college wrestler, two martial artists, a body builder, and… wait for it…. a Navy seal. We’re gonna go get her shit for her.
This should make for an interesting story.
So everyone who commented on this being like the avengers, you are absolutely right. That’s what all of us had in our heads as we were rolling over to dude’s house. But I’m very proud to say, this ended without violence.
Arrival:
So the super friends all jumped into one of the linebacker’s explorer and headed over to dude’s house. Ok the squad: you all know me, but the other martial artist is a little wirey hapkido guy, the linebackers are all giants (an estimated combined weight of I’d say 750-800lbs), the wrestler looks like an escaped gorilla, then the navy seal looks like your average guy but something about him is unsettling. Really unsettling. Unfortunately, the body builder had to work. Anyway, we send the Hapkido guy and the wrestler to the door first and dude answers, screams at them, and then slams the door in their face. Then the giant linebackers head over and they ring the door bell again. Lo and behold, he was much more polite, but still denied access. Finally, me and the seal join the fray. I casually make my way towards the front of the group, but the seal decides to CLIMB THE BANISTER. We all just turned and started at him completely shocked when dude answers the door. He looks at this weird mismatched group of relatively threatening individuals and one guy perched on his banister like batman. He was like “FINE. Go take what you’re looking for.”
Retrieval:
So we’re all walking through the house gathering what we think are her things and putting them into two boxes. Mind you. We are completely guessing. We didn’t even tell her we were coming, therefore we had no list of items.The only one really being productive was Hapkido, who was legitimately looking for stuff. The linebackers were just randomly picking up furniture, turning it over, and putting it back down. Just showing off how strong they were. In case the numbers game wasn’t enough, I guess they were letting him know they could break him if they wanted to. The seal was just shadowing dude in his own house. Walking behind him, not saying much, just being creepy. Then there’s me. Who was causing general mischief…. He said to take what I was looking for, that’s what I was looking for. Ahaha and the wrestler made a fricken sandwich. Because “you guys look like you have it under control, and I’m a sucker for egg salad.” We were in and out in 15 minutes.
Delivery:
So the autobots rolled out and headed towards homegirl’s spot. She was conveniently outside when we rolled up. We got out and she was like, how do you all even know each other. The truth is, we don’t. She sent us all an email once and didn’t blind copy us all. She vented to all of us about dude holding onto her stuff and we started emailing and that was that. We told her that we went to see her ex. “OMG what did you say to him?” Nothing. We’re not messenger boys. We’re delivery boys. And we gave her her boxes of stuff. She went through the first box and said that was most of her stuff. Then she got to my box and asked “Wtf is all that shit.” So I explained that I took all the batteries out of his remote controls, his deodorant, the light bulb out of his master closet, every pair of dress socks that I could find, the laces out of his running shoes, and all the toilet paper in the house. The guys just looked at me and kind of nodded like they were impressed. She then unexpectedly started CRYING and thanked us. So you have this group of meat heads all standing awkwardly with this weeping trainer. It was quiet for a second when the seal was like “So…. Chipotle?” And we all got burrito bowls.
What a great day.
all i know about sidneyia is that she's gotten into arguments w mentem
how do i make friends irl if i never leave the house
sidneyia said...
Another thing to consider is the fact that not pleasing one's spouse sexually is grounds for legal divorce in something like 30 states, and I believe is grounds for religious divorce in Judaism as well.
There was also a case (which I can't seem to find...grrrr) of a conservative lawmaker here in the US who proposed outlawing "sexless" marriages in addition to same-sex marriages. (In retrospect, it may even have been a *liberal* lawmaker who was proposing the law as a joke - which is even more disappointing, to think that even some liberals view us as punchlines).
Another thing to consider is the fact that not pleasing one's spouse sexually is grounds for legal divorce in something like 30 states, and I believe is grounds for religious divorce in Judaism as well.
There was also a case (which I can't seem to find...grrrr) of a conservative lawmaker here in the US who proposed outlawing "sexless" marriages in addition to same-sex marriages. (In retrospect, it may even have been a *liberal* lawmaker who was proposing the law as a joke - which is even more disappointing, to think that even some liberals view us as punchlines).
learning that someone doesnt like harry potter is honestly the most heartbreaking and life changing thing like u could kill a man and id still be more shocked and upset learning that u dont like harry potter
anon is so desperate for wank ppl are falling for obvious trolls
i def dont think anon always uses asexies 2 be misogynists but sometimes theres an overlap sometimes
like all the comments asexy tumblrinas get abt their looks or when nona posted that one tumblr
like all the comments asexy tumblrinas get abt their looks or when nona posted that one tumblr
the only thing more boring than when anon is slow is the nonas who go on about how anon is dying
catdog
catdog
alone in the world
is a little catdog
catdog
alone in the world
is a little catdog
anon is dying bc we have only like 2(?) active mods left
w8 make that 3 i forgot trivia
and it doesnt look like we'll get new ones
w8 make that 3 i forgot trivia
and it doesnt look like we'll get new ones
anon is dying bc nobody likes being around constant negativity and grudges bc in the long run its unhealthy
hopefully wot will still be around when anon dies
better than wankgate
or reddit
better than wankgate
or reddit
why are white ppl so fucking terrible? why do i have 2 see them every day at work? why do they think its ok to make dumb af comments?
ugh
ugh
why are nonas so controlling about what ppl can like, dont ur friends find that exhausting
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