You know what, fuck it, I don’t *want* some frivolous, artisanal, lighter-than-air computer with no customizability, no upgradeability, no reparability, no ports, and a lifetime of *maybe* 3 years if you’re lucky. I want a fucking great BEAST of a computer that’s designed to last a minimum of 50 years, with ports up the wazoo and optional drives for every kind of media! I want modular components that you can drop in a bog for a year, dry them off, and have them still work fine! I want them to make a noise like “ker-chunk!” when you slide them into place! I want a switch that you pull to turn it on! And I don’t want software that constantly forces you to get a pointless, cosmetic “upgrade” every few months either! I want durability! I want longevity! I want satisfying haptics! I want Silicon Valley to go fuck itself!
AK 47 energy
You know what? That’s a good summation. I want the AK 47 of personal computers.
i will render the dog each day (currently moving tho so i may miss one) to track its progress and because the current blind voting system is making results too tame
okay but like. This exact concept is what finally got me to be open about being queer in my day to day.
I was at work. I can’t go into detail about the situation, but someone was outed without their consent. And nobody was saying anything, and it was quiet, so I outed myself, too. So at least neither of us would be alone.
I was worried about the consequences. I’d never considered my identity a secret, but I wasn’t open about it, either. It felt like it wasn’t relevant to my job. If someone asked, I’d tell them, but otherwise, what did it matter?
After the incident, I met privately with a higher up. Told them what had happened and why it wasn’t good, and made some suggestions on what to do in the future to keep everyone safe to be in the closet or out of it on their own terms.
To my absolute amazement, they told me that others had come forwards anonymously to say the same things. Then word spread. Meetings were had. Policy and procedures were put in place. A training course on gender and sexuality was implemented for the very first time.
And of course there were protests- people who dug in their heels and kicked up a fuss and didn’t want to learn about “all that bullshit”, and when those people showed their colors, their superiors realized that they weren’t actually good representatives of the sort of environment they wanted to provide our clients, and a small number were actually let go.
I went to a meeting again the other week. And do you know what happened?
The meeting lead introduced themselves by name and pronouns, and asked everyone to please state their name, and, if they wished, theirs as well.
I was near the front. I introduced myself with He/Him. I thought I’d stand out like a sore thumb and feel like an idiot for hoping for better.
Two people down, someone introduced themselves as They/Them. Someone I’d never spoken much to before.
Then, She/they. At least two “anything fine"s. A he/her.
It was incredible. And it wasn’t even a whole year ago.
There are so many of us, now. Even more, as we teach and learn about ourselves, and it’s not so scary because there are others like us.
I’m not as loud and proud as I hope to be some day, because I’m still scared, a little, but I am here.
And I’ve learned that being openly queer isn’t about just expressing myself for the sake of it, bringing personal details into places it doesn’t matter-
-it’s about telling someone, it’s not just you. I’m in your corner. There are more of us than they think. There is power in numbers, and you are not alone.
if you’ve been following me for 4+ years i’m certain you could make a chart of every character i’ve gotten attached to and it would tell you more about me than any therapist’s notes ever could. but we don’t have the time for that. there are other things at hand. do not even worry about it. next exhibit. we’re moving along. we’re walking
“i’m noticing.. a pattern—” well stop noticing. close the book. Put it away. step outside and have a cigarette or something. close your eyes. it’s not worth it
jane austen really just repeatedly said “the sexiest thing a man can be is kind, selfless, attentive and honest about his feelings” and, as always, she was correct every single time
