The first immigrants to Europe arrived thousands of years ago from central Asia. Most pre-contact Europeans lived together in small villages. Because the continent was very crowded, their lives were ruled by strict hierarchies within the family and outside it to control resources. Europe was highly multi-ethnic, and most tribes were ruled by hereditary leaders who commanded the majority “commoners.” These groups were engaged in near constant warfare.

Pre-contact Europeans wore clothing made of natural materials such as animal skin and plant and animal-based textiles. Women wore long dresses and covered their hair, and men wore tunics and leggings. Both men and women liked to wear jewelry made from precious stones and metals as a sign of status. Before contact, Europeans had very poor diets. Most people were farmers and grew wheat and vegetables and raised cows and sheep to eat. They rarely washed themselves, and had many diseases because they often let their animals live with them.

Religion infused every part of Europeans’ lives. Europeans believed in one supreme deity, a father figure, who they believed was made of three parts, and they particularly worshiped the deity’s son. They claimed that their god had given humans domination over the earth. They built elaborate temples to him and performed ceremonies in which they ate crackers and drank wine and believed it was the body and blood of their god, who would provide them with entrance into a wondrous afterlife called heaven when they died. Many wars were fought over disagreements about the details of this religion, each group believing their interpretation was the right one that should be spread across the land.

Reblogged from aflightygrim
14
May
Here’s the thing. Men in our culture have been socialized to believe that their opinions on women’s appearance matter a lot. Not all men buy into this, of course, but many do. Some seem incapable of entertaining the notion that not everything women do with their appearance is for men to look at. This is why men’s response to women discussing stifling beauty norms is so often something like “But I actually like small boobs!” and “But I actually like my women on the heavier side, if you know what I mean!” They don’t realize that their individual opinion on women’s appearance doesn’t matter in this context, and that while it might be reassuring for some women to know that there are indeed men who find them fuckable, that’s not the point of the discussion.
2
May
katuriankaturiankaturian:

It’s been one hell of a humpday. Still going.

katuriankaturiankaturian:

It’s been one hell of a humpday. Still going.

Reblogged from rynia
27
Apr
As I stand out here in the wonders of the unknown at Hadley, I sort of realize there’s a fundamental truth to our nature, Man must explore … and this is exploration at its greatest.
Dave Scott, Commander Apollo 15, upon becoming the 7th man to walk on the Moon, 31 July 1971. (via aflightygrim)
Reblogged from aflightygrim
26
Apr
So fuck you, MRAs. Fuck you for showing up every time women speak, especially about rape and abuse, and trying to make it all about you. Fuck you for derailing threads about the victims of Marc Lépine, a man who screamed about his hatred for feminists as he murdered fourteen women and injured many others, because you also hate feminists and want a fucking cookie for not killing anyone. Fuck you for making rape and death threats against young women who dared to protest a speaking engagement by a man who thinks little girls would enjoy being raped by their fathers if it weren’t for society telling them it’s dirty. Fuck you for whining about how unfair it is that women might wonder if you’re a rapist when you approach them out of nowhere, while completely ignoring how unfair it is that women feel the need to be on guard all the time in public. Or that if we relax and behave normally — drinking, dancing, dressing however we want — you will be the first motherfuckers in line to blame us for getting ourselves raped.

A+++ rant from Kate Harding on the MRA movement and how it’s not actually about the real issues men face, but about putting feminists in their place.

(originally appeared on Jezebel)

FUCK YES 

(via lolijusthatementho)

(Source: sodisarmingdarling)

Reblogged from cyclopette
26
Apr
If you are a woman, everything revolves around whether or not someone wants to fuck you. Instead of addressing “all bodies are beautiful” how about, “it is not necessary to be universally fuckable”?
Reblogged from thethreehares
24
Apr
If we shadows have offended,
think but this, and all is mended:
that you have but slumbered here,
while these visions did appear.
And this weak and idle theme,
no more yielding than a dream,
gentles, do not reprehend:
If you pardon, we will mend.
And, as I am an honest Puck,
if we have unearned luck
now to scape the serpent’s tongue,
we will make amends ere long;
else the Puck a liar call:
So, good night unto you all.
Give me your hands, if we be friends,
and Robin shall restore amends.

William Shakespeare (A Midsummer Night’s Dream: Puck, 5:1)

Happy birthday (sorta) to the bard! :)

(Source: badluckkitten)

Reblogged from bardolatress
23
Apr
You’ll be fine. You’re 25. Feeling unsure and lost is part of your path. Don’t avoid it. See what those feelings are showing you and use it. Take a breath. You’ll be okay. Even if you don’t feel okay all the time.
Louis CK (via therealmeighan)

(Source: reddit.com)

Reblogged from rynia
22
Apr
Indeed, the idea of ‘winning the girl’ – of overcoming female objections or resistance through repeated and frequently escalating efforts – is central to most of our modern romantic narratives. (Female persistence, by contrast, is viewed as pathetic.) And the more I think about instances of creepiness, harassment and stalking that culminate in either the threat or actuality of sexual assault, the more I’m convinced that a massive part of the problem is this socially sanctioned idea that men are fundamentally entitled to persist. Because if men are meant to persist, then women who say no must only be rejecting the attempt, not the man himself, so that every separate attempt becomes one of a potentially infinite number of keys which might just fit the lock of the woman’s approval. She’s not the one who’s allowed to say no, not really; she should be silent and passive as a locked door, waiting patiently while the man runs through however many keys he can be bothered trying. And if he gets sick of this lengthy process and just breaks in? Well, frustration under those circumstances is only natural. Either the door shouldn’t have been there to impede him, or it shouldn’t have been locked.
Reblogged from stfu-moffat
6
Apr

(Source: geniroh)

Reblogged from 667darkavenue
5
Apr

Somehow, we have popularized the notion that being offended by a joke is wrong, that it’s your own fault for feeling that way and that feeling offended is your personal choice. If you say or even imply that something has offended you, you’ll likely hear something along the lines of ‘learn to take a joke.’ or ‘Get a sense of humor!’ Both of these phrases are dismissive, suggesting that you’re wrong to think critically about comedy and feeling offended is an invalid reaction.

What this attitude ignores is the underlying reason behind peoples’ reactions. Why were you offended by that? What about that joke made you feel uncomfortable? Sometimes people may be ‘overreacting’ to things that would not cause real harm, but in many cases, especially when the joke is racist, sexist, homophobic, or otherwise targets a marginalized group, there’s a good reason for people to be offended. These jokes, whether they’re intended to be harmful or not, have the effect of normalizing and reinforcing bigotry, prejudices, and stereotypes. What’s worse is that these jokes often feel like a direct assault to the people who are being used as the punchline, like the way rape jokes often trivialize the experiences of victims and make rape out to be a crazy happenstance instead of an atrocity. So, next time you feel like someone isn’t justified for being offender, try to find out why they felt offended in the first place. You might find that what sounded hilarious to you felt more like a punch in the gut to someone else, and it’s hard to laugh when you’ve just had the wind knocked out of you.

Lectures on Sociology Series, 2/24/13 (via shiracirca)
Reblogged from stfu-moffat
5
Apr
This filthy world…it’s a beautiful place, isn’t it?
John Waters (via kevinbolk)
Reblogged from kevinbolk
1
Apr

There’s also a danger of developing an illness known as “the rapture” — an extreme reaction to darkness and depth. Those who have suffered from it describe it as being similar to an anxiety attack while on methamphetamines.

“At some level, everyone’s brain will start to say, ‘I don’t belong here. This is a very dangerous place.’ It’s an ancient primordial instinct and it just says, ‘You have to get me out of here, right now,’” Tabor explains.

NPR interview with James Tabor about his book Blind Descent on exploring massive caves (via prologi)

(Source: NPR)

Reblogged from rynia
31
Mar

It’s taboo to admit that you’re lonely. You can make jokes about it, of course. You can tell people that you spend most of your time with Netflix or that you haven’t left the house today and you might not even go outside tomorrow. Ha ha, funny. But rarely do you ever tell people about the true depths of your loneliness, about how you feel more and more alienated from your friends each passing day and you’re not sure how to fix it. It seems like everyone is just better at living than you are.

A part of you knew this was going to happen. Growing up, you just had this feeling that you wouldn’t transition well to adult life, that you’d fall right through the cracks. And look at you now. La di da, it’s happening.

Your mother, your father, your grandparents: they all look at you like you’re some prized jewel and they tell you over and over again just how lucky you are to be young and have your whole life ahead of you. “Getting old ain’t for sissies,” your father tells you wearily.

You wish they’d stop saying these things to you because all it does is fill you with guilt and panic. All it does is remind you of how much you’re not taking advantage of your youth.

You want to kiss all kinds of different people, you want to wake up in a stranger’s bed maybe once or twice just to see if it feels good to feel nothing, you want to have a group of friends that feels like a tribe, a bonafide family. You want to go from one place to the next constantly and have your weekends feel like one long epic day. You want to dance to stupid music in your stupid room and have a nice job that doesn’t get in the way of living your life too much. You want to be less scared, less anxious, and more willing. Because if you’re closed off now, you can only imagine what you’ll be like later.

Every day you vow to change some aspect of your life and every day you fail. At this point, you’re starting to question your own power as a human being. As of right now, your fears have you beat. They’re the ones that are holding your twenties hostage.

Stop thinking that everyone is having more sex than you, that everyone has more friends than you, that everyone out is having more fun than you. Not because it’s not true (it might be!) but because that kind of thinking leaves you frozen. You’ve already spent enough time feeling like you’re stuck, like you’re watching your life fall through you like a fast dissolve and you’re unable to hold on to anything.

I don’t know if you ever get better. I don’t know if a person can just wake up one day and decide to be an active participant in their life. I’d like to think so. I’d like to think that people get better each and every day but that’s not really true. People get worse and it’s their stories that end up getting forgotten because we can’t stand an unhappy ending. The sick have to get better. Our normalcy depends upon it.

You have to value yourself. You have to want great things for your life. This sort of shit doesn’t happen overnight but it can and will happen if you want it.

Do you want it bad enough? Does the fear of being filled with regret in your thirties trump your fear of living today?

We shall see.

(via halfway-2-infinite)

Wow..it’s like inner me wrote this and sent it to my door step. 

(via klauren)

wow

(via chessieness)

(Source: hidingfromoursins)

Reblogged from rynia
29
Mar

“Depression…

They told me to stop feeling sad and to start counting my blessings.

Well, here goes.

1. I have food to eat each day, and some people are starving. So I have no right to be so depressed (and no wonder I’m so damn fat).

2. I have a roof over my head (for now), so I really shouldn’t be depressed (and I should get my lazy butt up and clean this place instead of being such a slob and failure).

3. I have friends who care about me. Only I never keep in touch with them enough, and some of them end up being sick of my crap, so I am a failure at that, too.

4. Tomorrow is another day. And it promises nothing but more problems and less sleep. It’s just one more step closer to the day I die. So at least there’s that to be happy about.

They told me counting my blessings would help. Apparently, I can’t even do that right.

I am a failure at everything.

Forever.”

This is how depression warps your thinking.

Depression IS real.

What it tells you about yourself is not.

(via valeria2067)

Reblogged from rynia
28
Mar