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thematerialworld:

Ted makes some crucial connections between the circumstances of Mark Carson’s murder and the circumstances of CeCe McDonald’s unjust arrest.  Pass this around - it’s important.

tedkerr:

 (Here are some thoughts I have been having since the death of Mark Carson)

Last Friday Mark Carson, a 32-year-old African American gay man was shot on the corner of west 8^th street and 6^th ave. Within a short time, police captured 33-year-old Elliot Morales, and he confessed to the murder. Earlier in the evening Elliot had been bragging about his gun, and was making homophobic comments to strangers.

One of the last things Elliot said to Mark before he shot him was, “Is that your boy?” referring to the man with Mark. “Yes,” Mark answered.

24 hours after the shooting there was a vigil for Mark. People mourned the young man’s passing and spoke about issues of safety, visibility and the need to watch out for each other. 

Those who spoke also brought up the need to question hate crime legislation in an effort to work towards real ideas of justice, they brought up the closing of St. Vincent’s and wondered if there had been a hospital closer maybe Mark’s life could have been saved, and they made connections between Mark’s death, and the exceptional and everyday violence experienced by many in this city due to poverty, HIV/AIDS, and policies such as stop and frisk.

Learning more about Mark and Elliot I thought about another case where asserting one’s right to be ended in violence.

In Minneapolis, Minnesota on June 5^th 2011 CeCe McDonald and her friends were walking to grocery story when they crossed paths with a group outside of a bar who began berating CeCe and her friends with homophobic, transphobic and racist slurs. Words escalated into physical violence and soon CeCe was bleeding and Dean Schmidt, one of the men who witnesses say was verbally and physically assaulting CeCe and her friends, was dead due to a fatal stab wound.

CeCe was the only arrested that night. She was charged with second-degree murder in Dean’s death. In a plea bargain she accepted a lesser charge of second-degree manslaughter. As her supporters say, “in short, CeCe was prosecuted for surviving a violent, racist, transphobic attack.” She is serving 41 months in a men’s prison. The state will not recognize her as a woman. 

While there cases are very different, like Mark, CeCe stood up for herself in the face of oppression. While it did not result in the loss of her life, her life chances have been severely reduced. As we hope for justice for Elliot, we need to pray for Dean’s soul. As we mourn Mark’s death we need to be also fighting for CeCe’s life.

—-

In the wake of CeCe’s case over the last two years, and over the last few days after Mark died I have been inspired to see how communities can come together. Vigils have been organized, tough conversations have been had, and people have opened up and been vulnerable with each other, in return others have come to support. I have heard people compare these last few days to early AIDS activism, or the marches after Harvey Milk died.

While I am not sure about that, I do  wonder, can we care for each other everyday this way, not just when the violence we know is happening all the time hits the news?

Can we learn to make the love we have for ourselves and each other a practice of everyday freedom?

Can this love be our resistance in the face of death, misguided hate crime legislation, and prison?

Can we create a community of networked and systemic care that rivals the networked systemic violence practiced against us?

Can we love each other en masse on the regular?

oldloves:

Bill Murray on Gilda Radner:

“Gilda got married and went away. None of us saw her anymore. There was one good thing: Laraine had a party one night, a great party at her house. And I ended up being the disk jockey. She just had forty-fives, and not that many, so you really had to work the music end of it. There was a collection of like the funniest people in the world at this party. Somehow Sam Kinison sticks in my brain. The whole Monty Python group was there, most of us from the show, a lot of other funny people, and Gilda. Gilda showed up and she’d already had cancer and gone into remission and then had it again, I guess. Anyway she was slim. We hadn’t seen her in a long time. And she started doing, “I’ve got to go,” and she was just going to leave, and I was like, “Going to leave?” It felt like she was going to really leave forever.

So we started carrying her around, in a way that we could only do with her. We carried her up and down the stairs, around the house, repeatedly, for a long time, until I was exhausted. Then Danny did it for a while. Then I did it again. We just kept carrying her; we did it in teams. We kept carrying her around, but like upside down, every which way—over your shoulder and under your arm, carrying her like luggage. And that went on for more than an hour—maybe an hour and a half—just carrying her around and saying, “She’s leaving! This could be it! Now come on, this could be the last time we see her. Gilda’s leaving, and remember that she was very sick—hello?”

We worked all aspects of it, but it started with just, “She’s leaving, I don’t know if you’ve said good-bye to her.” And we said good-bye to the same people ten, twenty times, you know. 

And because these people were really funny, every person we’d drag her up to would just do like five minutes on her, with Gilda upside down in this sort of tortured position, which she absolutely loved. She was laughing so hard we could have lost her right then and there.

It was just one of the best parties I’ve ever been to in my life. I’ll always remember it. It was the last time I saw her.”

- from Live from New York: an Uncensored History of Saturday Night Live

Oh man, I got a Niagara Falls in my eye.

nissemisyats:

kimyadawson:

floricanto-desnuda:

kimyadawson:

I was sitting on a bench when a girl around 5 yrs old, in a fancy party dress, looked me in the eye & said “Why do you look like a monster?”

And I was like….

note: kimya does not look like a monster. 

and fuck any parent who teaches a child to think like that.

I woke up and had the realization that she was probably talking about Monster High, where most of the girl monsters have multi-colored hair and the fangs look similar to my lip piercings. 

I TOTALLY look like I could be the werewolf sisters’ weird aunt. 

Maybe what this kid was telling me was that I was totally badass and I could’ve introduced her to the idea of cosplay. 

Although she was a kid and being a kid is pretty much cosplay. 

She was wearing a party dress at the gym. Maybe she was playing pretend and thought I was too. 

I’m glad I wasn’t offended or defensive and that I responded with a smile and a shrug and just said “I like being fuzzy and colorful.” 

Kids are usually not being mean. 

They usually make so much more sense than adults, because they are so literal, but sometimes it takes the self-conscious adult brain a little longer to see what they are saying. 

Dear Fancy Nancy, 

I’m sorry that I am old and slow and didn’t realize that maybe you thought we were the only two people playing dress-up in the joint. A nice high five of solidarity probably would have been a better response. 

Next time I won’t let you down with some boring reply.

I’ll howl or something.

Sincerely, 

Auntie Werewolf

We also live in a post Monsters Inc age where being a monster isn’t a BAD thing. It could just mean you look awesome to hang out with, or cuddly. It doesn’t just mean scary and mean. If you were scary and mean, the kid probably wouldn’t have spoken to you, just…cried, or ran, or something. 

Good point! I didn’t even think about that. Haha!

floricanto-desnuda:

kimyadawson:

I was sitting on a bench when a girl around 5 yrs old, in a fancy party dress, looked me in the eye & said “Why do you look like a monster?”

And I was like….

note: kimya does not look like a monster. 

and fuck any parent who teaches a child to think like that.

I woke up and had the realization that she was probably talking about Monster High, where most of the girl monsters have multi-colored hair and the fangs look similar to my lip piercings. 

I TOTALLY look like I could be the werewolf sisters’ weird aunt. 

Maybe what this kid was telling me was that I was totally badass and I could’ve introduced her to the idea of cosplay. 

Although she was a kid and being a kid is pretty much cosplay. 

She WAS wearing a party dress at the gym. Maybe she was playing pretend and thought I was too. 

I’m glad I wasn’t offended or defensive and that I responded with a smile and a shrug and just said “I like being fuzzy and colorful.” 

Kids are usually not being mean. 

They usually make so much more sense than adults, because they are so literal, but sometimes it takes the self-conscious adult brain a little longer to see what they are saying. 

Dear Fancy Nancy, 

I’m sorry that I am old and slow and didn’t realize that maybe you thought we were the only two people playing dress-up in the joint. A nice high five of solidarity probably would have been a better response. 

Next time I won’t let you down with some boring reply.

I’ll howl or something.

Sincerely, 

Auntie Werewolf

I was sitting on a bench when a girl around 5 yrs old, in a fancy party dress, looked me in the eye & said “Why do you look like a monster?”

And I was like….

fishingboatproceeds:

kimyadawson:

Me, Karen, Mike, Dori, Kristine, Jody, Troy, Tina, and Richie. 1990

I swear, I pretty much exclusively wore Sting t-shirts for the majority of my teen years. I am glad a picture finally surfaced on the interwebs of me wearing one (and a red, yellow, and green wooden bead choker). 

I wonder who kissed who….because there must’ve been a reason for me to look so pissed. And that was almost always the reason. 

I was totally freaked out by the idea of physical contact (unless it was for trust falls or something) but I would still get so angry and jealous when my friends would have someone to get all smoochy with. 

I didn’t kiss anyone until the year after this pic was taken. When I was 18, in college. And even then it was just once and he was some big drug dealer in Harvard Square. He had no legs. He carried a meat cleaver under his wheelchair cushion. It was another year before the next time. I was 19. Other side of the country. Me and some dude were making out. He took off his shirt. He had the Rolling Stones lips and tongue tattooed on his chest. I freaked out, jumped out the window (first floor), and ran. 

I was a late bloomer, to say the least.

Sure did love Sting though. 

And I would totally rock Jody’s pants right now. 

My posse was crazy and amazing. 

I wish you could tell better in this pic that I had Milli Vanilli/Lisa Bonet hair past my butt. 

I loved Milli Vanilli and Lisa Bonet. 

And did I mention that I loved Sting?

I like LOVE LOVED Sting. 

Like wrote poems about him loved him. 

Teenagers are so weird. 

Weird good.

Do your thing.

Kimya Dawson is so great.

John Green is so great.

The Uncluded’s KEXP in-studio session airs this Saturday at 7:30pm PDT! Check out some photos from the recording:http://bit.ly/148MADa

Me, Karen, Mike, Dori, Kristine, Jody, Troy, Tina, and Richie. 1990

I swear, I pretty much exclusively wore Sting t-shirts for the majority of my teen years. I am glad a picture finally surfaced on the interwebs of me wearing one (and a red, yellow, and green wooden bead choker). 

I wonder who kissed who….because there must’ve been a reason for me to look so pissed. And that was almost always the reason. 

I was totally freaked out by the idea of physical contact (unless it was for trust falls or something) but I would still get so angry and jealous when my friends would have someone to get all smoochy with. 

I didn’t kiss anyone until the year after this pic was taken. When I was 18, in college. And even then it was just once and he was some big drug dealer in Harvard Square. He had no legs. He carried a meat cleaver under his wheelchair cushion. It was another year before the next time. I was 19. Other side of the country. Me and some dude were making out. He took off his shirt. He had the Rolling Stones lips and tongue tattooed on his chest. I freaked out, jumped out the window (first floor), and ran. 

I was a late bloomer, to say the least.

Sure did love Sting though. 

And I would totally rock Jody’s pants right now. 

My posse was crazy and amazing. 

I wish you could tell better in this pic that I had Milli Vanilli/Lisa Bonet hair past my butt. 

I loved Milli Vanilli and Lisa Bonet. 

And did I mention that I loved Sting?

I like LOVE LOVED Sting. 

Like wrote poems about him loved him. 

Teenagers are so weird. 

Weird good.

Do your thing.