A lot of people seem to think that prison rape is a joke, or that inmates deserve to get raped for breaking the law. Well, let me shed a little bit more light on the situation. My 29-year-old brother has Smith-Magenis Syndrome (info here) and in 2009 he burnt down the unoccupied next-door house, and was (unjustly I believe), sentenced to 30 years in prison, plus an additional 30 years for starting a fire on the same property a few months earlier and then putting it out. So altogether, 60 years for a property crime where no one was hurt committed by a person who is borderline retarded. I thought, and maybe other people do as well, that mentally challenged people were sent to separate prisons than non-mentally challenged people. Well, that’s not necessarily the case. My brother has been shuffled between facilities ever since becoming incarcerated. In my naive mind, I also believed that he would have some sort of protection from the violent inmates. This is not true. My brother, who has the IQ and maturity of about a nine-year-old, has been raped in prison. I cannot begin to explain how deeply this disturbs me. I feel as though my nine-year-old sibling has been heinously violated. It disgusts me in my soul. It makes me want to crawl out of my skin, because it feels so filthy even knowing this, what I wish I did not know. It breaks my heart. It fills me with rage. I know now that human beings are the absolute scourge of the earth. There is no doubt in my mind that we are the vilest creatures on this planet.
Prison rape is not a joke. Incarcerated people do not deserve to be raped. No one deserves to be raped. It is not less illegal, or less tragic, if it happens to an inmate. It is barbaric that prisons look the other way when it happens. It needs to stop.
(via seriouslyamerica)
cats are wonderful
(via fuckyeahmyvagina)
It depresses me. I just read someone’s commentary about how all people need to survive are “food, a bed, water, and a toilet”. Like, is that really the life people want to work for? What the fuck is the point, then? Is that really how low we’ve sunken as a nation? All I want out of life is to own a small house, not a mansion, just a nice, modest house. I want to have kids. I want to not have to worry about feeding those kids. It’s a common dream. It should be an attainable dream. I have no interest in a private jet. I’m not taking yearly vacations to Paris and Tokyo. I don’t want a Bentley. I don’t need to send my kids to Harvard. I don’t want millions of dollars. I don’t mind working. All I want is a chance. And it really frosts my cookies that these rich, old, corporate puppets called politicians have stolen my generation’s chance. Do you know that we’ve been called the new “lost generation?” It’s time for us to take a stand. Stop taking our opportunities away and giving them to bankers and CEOs. Stop auctioning our country’s future off to the highest bidder. Stop ignoring the desires of your constituents. Stop turning us against each other. Stop chipping away at our education so that those of us unfortunate enough to spend 12 years in a mediocre school system will graduate without even knowing how to read, and without the skills to recognize who the true enemies are. Immigrants, people of color, Muslims, Jews, foreigners, atheists, poor people are not our enemies. Our enemies are those of you in power who use your power for evil, for lining your pockets, and the pockets of your corporate buddies. Growing up we learned about the so-called “American Dream”. Well, I want my chance to have my dream. I’m not asking for much. I want to be able to afford to go to school, to learn something that might enable me to actually acquire a decent job, so that I can afford to start living with hope instead of bleak despair.
Is it bad that when my hyper-Southern Baptist friend posted this as her status, the “more ways than one” that I imagined of being stuffed were all sexual?
(compiled by Pamela Haag at BigThink)
- Mamihlapinatapei (Yagan, an indigenous language of Tierra del Fuego): The wordless yet meaningful look shared by two people who desire to initiate something, but are both reluctant to start.
Oh yes, this is an exquisite word, compressing a thrilling and scary relationship moment. It’s that delicious, cusp-y moment of imminent seduction. Neither of you has mustered the courage to make a move, yet. Hands haven’t been placed on knees; you’ve not kissed. But you’ve both conveyed enough to know that it will happen soon… very soon.- Yuanfen(Chinese): A relationship by fate or destiny. This is a complex concept. It draws on principles of predetermination in Chinese culture, which dictate relationships, encounters and affinities, mostly among lovers and friends.From what I glean, in common usage yuanfen means the “binding force” that links two people together in any relationship.
But interestingly, “fate” isn’t the same thing as “destiny.” Even if lovers are fated to find each other they may not end up together. The proverb, “have fate without destiny,” describes couples who meet, but who don’t stay together, for whatever reason. It’s interesting, to distinguish in love between the fated and the destined. Romantic comedies, of course, confound the two.- Cafuné (Brazilian Portuguese): The act of tenderly running your fingers through someone’s hair.
- Retrouvailles (French): The happiness of meeting again after a long time. This is such a basic concept, and so familiar to the growing ranks of commuter relationships, or to a relationship of lovers, who see each other only periodically for intense bursts of pleasure. I’m surprised we don’t have any equivalent word for this subset of relationship bliss. It’s a handy one for modern life.
- Ilunga (Bantu): A person who is willing to forgive abuse the first time; tolerate it the second time, but never a third time.
Apparently, in 2004, this word won the award as the world’s most difficult to translate. Although at first, I thought it did have a clear phrase equivalent in English: It’s the “three strikes and you’re out” policy. But ilunga conveys a subtler concept, because the feelings are different with each “strike.” The word elegantly conveys the progression toward intolerance, and the different shades of emotion that we feel at each stop along the way.
Ilunga captures what I’ve described as the shade of gray complexity in marriages—Not abusive marriages, but marriages that involve infidelity, for example. We’ve got tolerance, within reason, and we’ve got gradations of tolerance, and for different reasons. And then, we have our limit. The English language to describe this state of limits and tolerance flattens out the complexity into black and white, or binary code. You put up with it, or you don’t. You “stick it out,” or not.
Ilunga restores the gray scale, where many of us at least occasionally find ourselves in relationships, trying to love imperfect people who’ve failed us and whom we ourselves have failed.- La Douleur Exquise (French): The heart-wrenching pain of wanting someone you can’t have.
When I came across this word I thought of “unrequited” love. It’s not quite the same, though. “Unrequited love” describes a relationship state, but not a state of mind. Unrequited love encompasses the lover who isn’t reciprocating, as well as the lover who desires. La douleur exquise gets at the emotional heartache, specifically, of being the one whose love is unreciprocated.- Koi No Yokan (Japanese): The sense upon first meeting a person that the two of you are going to fall into love.
This is different than “love at first sight,” since it implies that you might have a sense of imminent love, somewhere down the road, without yet feeling it. The term captures the intimation of inevitable love in the future, rather than the instant attraction implied by love at first sight.- Ya’aburnee(Arabic): “You bury me.” It’s a declaration of one’s hope that they’ll die before another person, because of how difficult it would be to live without them.
The online dictionary that lists this word calls it “morbid and beautiful.” It’s the “How Could I Live Without You?” slickly insincere cliché of dating, polished into a more earnest, poetic term.- Forelsket: (Norwegian): The euphoria you experience when you’re first falling in love.
This is a wonderful term for that blissful state, when all your senses are acute for the beloved, the pins and needles thrill of the novelty. There’s a phrase in English for this, but it’s clunky. It’s “New Relationship Energy,” or NRE.- Saudade (Portuguese): The feeling of longing for someone that you love and is lost. Another linguist describes it as a “vague and constant desire for something that does not and probably cannot exist.”
It’s interesting that saudade accommodates in one word the haunting desire for a lost love, or for an imaginary, impossible, never-to-be-experienced love. Whether the object has been lost or will never exist, it feels the same to the seeker, and leaves her in the same place: She has a desire with no future. Saudade doesn’t distinguish between a ghost, and a fantasy. Nor do our broken hearts, much of the time.
This is great. I had #7 with my fiance, almost six years ago now.
(via sinidentidades)
When my cats sleep all day, I look at them and say “I wish I was a cat.” I only feel slightly embarrassed by this.
A seal helping a helpless turtle get back into the water.
THANKS FRANK
NO PROBLEM STEVE HAVE A GOOD SWIM MANask me again why I prefer animals over human beings!
(via fuckyeahmyvagina)
Yup dup.
(via burntoearn)
Stupid animal must have some Siamese in him. He won’t freaking shut up. He can literally cry for hours. I love the little shit but goddamn sometimes I really wanna hurt him. I wish his older “brother” cat would knock some sense into him.