eva-420:

"this lady thinks that men are encouraged to be aggressive and violent? lets threaten her that will show how wrong she is" like what the fuck point do you think youre making 

(via professionalhomosexualist)

if I ever get upset over variants of feminism on tumblr remind me to go back out into the real world where most people still don’t realize that “women are not a lesser gender” is the basic and only tenant of feminism

blastortoise:

it’s so weird that people are shaming Beyonce for being sexual during her performance when literally in the speech in flawless says “We teach girls that they cannot be sexual beings in the way that boys are." Like how do you miss the point that bad

(Source: blastortoise-chan, via bossestbitch)


asylum-art:

Cai Guo-Qiang: Amazing sculptures in the best museums

"Inopportune: Stage Two,” 2004 Tigers:

Entering the tiger room, you see the violent act- tigers with arrows pierced into their bodies and there’s a very visceral response. Even though it’s completely fake, the tigers are so realistically made that the audience feels pain when they see the them. The pain is not in the tigers, which obviously can’t feel. The pain is really in the person who’s viewing this. So it’s through the artwork, because it represents pain, that one feels this pain and has this very visceral relationship or reaction to it.”- Cai Guo-Qiang

"HEAD ON”, 2006:

Glass sheet and 99 life-sized replicas of wolves, dimensions variable. Installation view at Deutsche Guggenheim, Berlin, 2006. Photo by Hiro Ihara and Mathias Schormann. Courtesy Cai Studio, New York.

"Heritage" 2013:

An installation of 99 life-sized animal sculptures, including pandas, lions, tigers, and kangaroos, all drinking together from a lake surrounded by white sand;inspired by a trip he made ​​in Australia, the artist Cai Guo-Qiang created a huge installation called Heritage, to gather around a swimming pool disguised as a pond 99 replicas of animals from around the world coming to drink. A magnificent work, presented at the Queensland Art Gallery of Modern Art in Brisbane.

Photography: Natasha Harth

Watch this Video:

(via bossestbitch)


(Source: camkoa, via bossestbitch)

It’s Monday. I’m going home at 6pm and a middle aged man and a teenage boy are the only people left on the bus with me. I consider the fact that because the driver is also a man I am the only person left on the bus with the correct genetic makeup for boobs. I’m automatically scared, scared because of my own anatomy. I wonder how old I was when I realized that my own body was going to be the cause of the constant anxiety and fear I feel in situations like this. I get off at the last stop and the older man smiles at me while following me up the street. His smile drips, drips, drips and my heart is pounding, pounding, pounding. He turns off down another road, but I run the rest of the way home.

Not all men.

I’m at home on a Tuesday, beginning to plan the travels I want to go on next year. I dream of wandering the streets and meeting strangers. I just can’t wait to escape the city I’ve lived in for 17 long years. But… my mum is hesitant. She’s forever worried about the danger that being a young girl traveling alone can bring. I’ll be alone and she’s scared. Surely I’m invincible. I feel invincible. But I know, I know this danger is real and I can’t help but think to myself, if I feel unsafe in my own city, how am i going to feel in a strange place with strange men who don’t speak the same language as me? If I was my brother planning this, I would probably just be wondering if European girls are going to be hot.

Not all men.

Wednesday is a beautiful sunny day but I’ve always been told that I don’t have a “nice enough body” to wear a bikini on the beach. Ever since I was 6 years old I’ve thought that having tummy fat was ugly. That skin that doesn’t have a perfectly golden glow is undesirable. I amble to a clear patch of sand in my one piece and I can feel pairs of eyes latching onto me. Hairy men in speedos who I don’t look twice at eat into my body with their stares. I’m a piece of meat. I am a piece of meat? I am here for their amusement. Please don’t let me be eaten alive.

Not all men.

Thursday night two friends and I are walking to our god damn school dance when we hear “Jesus look at you! You sluts heading to a pole?” These words snarl out of the mouth of a respectably dressed man and we stop in horror. Shivers roll up my back in fear. It’s dark. We are alone. What. Do. We. Do??? One of us pulls the finger back. I can never be sure how quickly a sexist man can get angry so we walk quickly away. We’re angry, so so angry. But also so… deflated. I wonder if we deserve this shame.

Not all men.

Sitting on the internet, Friday night and scrolling down my Facebook newsfeed:

“Haha, good job at the game today bro. You RAPED them!”
“Damn with tits like that, you’re asking for it :P”

Another sexist comment…
Another sexist comment…
Another sexist comment…

I’m shrinking and shrinking and shrinking and I want to CRY because these boys don’t realize how small they make me feel with just pressing a few keys. I see these boys on the streets, I talk to these boys, I laugh with these boys. Dear GOD, dear GOD i hope these boys don’t think actions speak louder than words…

Not all men.

Three rules that have been drilled into me since I was young run through my mind at 1.30am on a Satur… Sunday Morning:

-Don’t ever talk to strange men
-Don’t ever be alone at night in a strange place
-Don’t ever get into a car with a stranger

I break all 3 of these laws as I pull open the taxi door. Making light conversation with the driver, he doesn’t see my sweaty hand clutching the small pocket knife I keep hidden on me at all times. He doesn’t even realize the fear I feel at his mere presence. He cannot comprehend it, he never will. How easy would this 15 minute car ride be if I was born a boy?

Not all men.

It comes to Sunday, another snoozy, sleepy, Sunday and someone has the AUDACITY to tell me not all men are rapists. I say nothing.

I’m a 17 year old girl.
When I am walking alone and it’s dark, it’s all men.
When I am in a car with a man I don’t know well, it’s all men.
When men drunkenly leer at me on the streets, it’s all men.
When a boy won’t leave me alone at a party, it’s all men.

Not all men are rapists. But for a young girl like me? Every one of them has the potential to be.

Not.
All.
Men.

Source:

(via nonjazzscatcat)

this is amazing

(via silverindies)

(Source: trueho, via sodii)


redtemplo:

micdotcom:

India replaces the Ice Bucket Challenge with the much more sustainable Rice Bucket Challenge 

After seeing the dramatic results from the Ice Bucket Challenge, Indian journalist Manju Latha Kalanidhi was compelled to start something similar, but with an Indian slant. “I felt like doing something more locally tangible. Rice is a staple here,” Kalanidhi told CNN. “We eat it every day, we can store it for months. Why not donate rice to someone who is hungry?”

It’s fairly simpleFollow micdotcom

Go off x1000000

(via sameatschildren)


aud-works:

a.k.a. how the yule ball would have gone if i had written it

(via visigoths)

eee i ordered the catalogue from the art gallery for Douglas Coupland’s exhibition and I can’t wait till it gets here so I can relive that whole experience again wowowowart

child-of-thecosmos:

The Pale Blue Dot (Full video)

child-of-thecosmos:

The Pale Blue Dot (Full video)

(via hoopyfroodyford)