Loftia is an upcoming cosy, solarpunk MMO with a high focus on community and sustainability. You build a sustainable city with other players using community projects, grow crops with different techniques like hydroponics and hanging gardens, upcycling different items, use different forms of sustainable energy, design a cute apartment, rescue and adopt different pets and animals, and more coming with their kickstarter, which is currently active (link at the end).
This is one of my most anticipated games, as I love the solarpunk element!!!
It will definitely be available on PC and Max, but there is a chance it will be available for other consoles, albeit after the release. It will be paid to play.
The art style looks really cute and soft (idk if u know what i mean lmao) and i like the look of the characters.
It’s looking like it will be released in early access 2025!
Postcard: “Christ died for our Dunkin’ Donuts,” 1994, Folder 29, Box 1, William Rosenberg Papers, 1940-2002, MC 187, Milne Special Collections and Archives, University of New Hampshire Library, Durham, NH, USA.
Hi there! We’ve got two items of interest in this mid-week post: firstly, we wanted to let you all know about our spotlight sale for this Wed-Sun (07/12-07/15), which is on our very colorful and fun Rainbow Dreams Knee Socks. They’re made using vintage knitting machines right here in the USA, so they’re a little less fancy than your usual present-day-type socks. But we love them all the same!
Use code RAINBOW20 for 20% off these sweet socks.
Secondly, in the spirit of rainbows, we wanted to remind you that we’ll be at Portland Pridefest this coming weekend, Saturday and Sunday, in booth C20. Come by and say hi if you’re in town!
regardless of which marginalized group you are part of
I guarantee that bigotry against you is not “the last acceptable prejudice” — many, many others are still alive and well
I guarantee you that “if it were any other group” people would still engage in it—and ARE still engaging in it
no one actually engages in super-specific, highly limited, artisanal bigotry
it always comes in variety packs
I’m gonna be honest, this is something I’ve personally struggled with a lot when thinking through social justice issues, because it’s also true that each type of marginalization works somewhat differently and there are unique or at least disproportionate issues that are specific to each group. And so sometimes I find myself extremely tempted to frame issues like this and get a knee-jerk defensive feeling when someone like OP rightly points out the problem with that line of thinking. My immediate gut reaction is, “but [X] thing really *does* happen disproportionately to [Y] group, so why can’t we point that out?” And I’m saying this because as much as I get that instinctive feeling, the bottom line is that OP is right, and that gut reaction is coming from a place of frustration and/or trauma around not being heard or taken seriously when I point out these issues. Or, I think a lot of times it comes from a place of desperately trying to make people listen, understand, and care about how bad it is, and bases this statement on the idea that [Z] group is treated better and people will understand more if they use that comparison.
Which is an understandable reaction, but (a) likely factually untrue and (b) actively contributes to a breakdown in solidarity. Even if we assume that there’s some level of empirical truth to some of those statements, I think the framing is really key here.
Saying “[X] thing happens to my particular group, which I know because I’ve personally experienced it/seen it happen” is totally fine as a subjective statement. Marginalized folks absolutely can and should be able to speak to their own experiences without having to justify it with hard evidence unless you are literally in a court of law. You can also say, “here is some data that shows that [X] thing happens to my group disproportionately and why,” or “[X] thing comes from a specific history that is unique to [Y] group.”
On the other hand, saying “[X] thing doesn’t happen to [Z] group,” or happens less often or less severely, or people seem to care more when it does happen, is typically not coming from a place of hard data, but rather that individual’s perception of how a given issue effects that other group. And so usually, such comments tend to garner reactions from the [Z] group that amount to, “yeah, except that happened to me last Tuesday and no one gave a shit.” Cue a bitter argument over each person’s experiences and the hurt that comes from having those experiences invalidated. Meanwhile, the bigots will continue to oppress both groups and watch the lateral aggression with a bag of popcorn.
Tl;dr, you can talk about issues that disproportionately affect your group and/or the unique ways that those issues get applied out without telling other people what their experiences have been based on your perception of their experiences.
Yup, and “this particular expression of bigotry happens disproportionately to my group”
is not the same as
“other groups don’t experience as much bigotry/oppression/marginalization” or “it’s less acceptable to be bigoted toward other groups than it is toward mine.”
Prejudice and marginalization and bigotry and bias (conscious and unconscious) manifest in SO MANY DIFFERENT WAYS and I don’t think it’s actually possible to come up with some sort of Single And Universal Bigotry Quantifier so we can objectively determine who’s getting the shittiest treatment, and why would we want to?
It’s all shitty. It all needs to stop.
And at the end of the day, most of the manifestations of bigotry directed toward a particular group are *invisible to people outside that group.”
When we try to compare, we’re generally comparing our lived experience of things of which we’re hyper aware to our outside perception of things which we might not recognize.
ID: a poem that can be read three ways, the left side is labeled Alive, the right side is labeled Dead. Reading only Alive gives:
He walks through the trees, the sun sifting through his beard. Here I am, just a kid, a father with his favourite child. He looks so much like a dad. Here we are: birds flying; a pulsing river; a ravenous picnic; and that smile, a mouth wide open, his child, newly awakened, wrapped around his neck like rosary beads clinging to his body. I loved him long before I heard of his body failing, and I held him so. Trusting that my love is enough.
Reading only Dead gives:
My dreams every night turn to spiders that all have his face. There is a campfire burning out, and me, the white dust of only ash in my hands. In the real world, standing next to his bed again– he doesn’t look like a body about to burn to pieces. Dead silence– no voice, only an echo not quite gone yet. The pills are down his throath, the morphine into his stomach, his body only for the disease, the wound across his back becomes filled with blood, and me, standing next to the body. Grief has hands twisted, tightening in prayer: the last breath like a final amen. I could speak the prayer a thousand ways– still, God will answer for only God, never for the living.
And reading them both together gives:
He walks through my dreams every night. The trees turn to spiders that all have his face. There the sun is a campfire burning out, and me, sifting through the white dust of his beard, only ash in my hands. Here in the real world I am standing next to his bed, just a kid again– he doesn’t look like a father with a body about to burn his favourite child to pieces. He looks dead. So much silence– no voice, only an echo, like a dad not quite gone yet. Here we are: the pills are birds flying down his throat; the morphine a pulsing river into his stomach; his body a ravenous picnic only for the disease; and that smile, the wound across his back becomes a mouth wide open, filled with blood; and me, his child, standing next to the body. Newly awakened grief has hands wrapped around his neck, twisted like rosary beads tightening in prayer: clinging to the last breath, his body like a final amen. I loved him long before I could speak. I learned the prayer of his body failing a thousand ways– and I held him, so still, trusting that God will answer for my love. Only, God is never enough for the living.
“i wish i could do something 😔 / i wish the wga had a kickstarter or a gofundme, i would throw money at it” good news! it’s amazing how you can literally go onto the wga strike website or the wgawest linktree from their twitter and find links to support writers and other workers affected by the strike
The 21st Century ritual of the Earth Sandwich, where in two people on opposite sides of the earth place a piece of bread on the ground, creating a sandwich with the entire planet as its contents. Truly, a beautiful ceremony symbolizing the interconnected nature of the modern world.
hi, i'm back on tumblr after...a while. i like fa(t)shion, art, dogs, stationery, cute stuff....
