Pinned toot

heritage, being of the land 

When saying that i/we are lowercase "i" indigeneous, it is meant that my way of life, the practice of living out what childhood dealt me deeply, is a privilege that few people today have, or understand. I mean that I'm not Indigenous (with an uppercase "I") to this topographical area, and yet am a child native to the wetlands-and-rain-forest, of functional upbringing among the trees, of biological ancestry, life lived, confirmation by a shaman who sits with the elders at the bioregion's councils, and of active ongoing adult choice.

...don't know what I am, fully, but in the same way I can say with absolute certainty "I am not male", I can and very much *do* state certainty, I am not "white".

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Pinned toot

words of empathy, observation 

I/we bear witness to the distress of these times.

Weeping, hearing your words of pain in the hands of others, where your life and your culture and your carefully cultivated joys are dashed against the insensitivity of quietly violent people.

Wailing, gnashing my teeth with you as their boots tear at our flesh, for we are one and the same, though apart and different, what harms you hurts us all.

We are laid out in the sun to dry and wither, without water to survive or shelter for the parched.

We lay on the flesh of the earth and are still loved, and this is enough for tonight.

We cannot force the trees to grow, and the ash of destruction is the soil of next summer's bounty.

We grieve with you, we feel your loss. We see you fighting, in pain and alone.

Please know that our long silence is aught but consideration. We are still learning to speak well with others.

Our hands are not long enough to carry your load for you, but we love you just the same from where we are.

This is not the end of our cycle. And each cycle begets another, and life will always chase death, chasing life.

Thank you for choosing to live, beautiful creature.
Thank you for being you, for fiercely and painfully resisting, and pushing against and upwards.
Thank you for your part in our life.

Be well.

Peace on your path.

building materials aid request, boost appreciated 

If you're in the valley or coastal region of western turtle island (cascadia bioregion, so-called Tillamook County), and have roofing materials to spare, I'm interested in talking with you.

We're building a "pump house", because that's how we avoid needing a 6-month geohazard survey delay among other red tape for permits.

And finances are...razor thin right now, so buying new isn't an option for most of the building materials.

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off grid, cycles 

I'm about to be off-grid for another chunk of time.

Probably about two weeks, where a cellular network connection is 10km away, and solar is my only reliable-ish electric source.

Being apart from my partner and newborn is more difficult than navigating limited resources, tbh...and it is safer for them to be in a place with reliable services, so I'm putting every spare spoon into finishing the process of cutting through red tape related to our housing.

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surprise (+), intersex lactation, healthcare thread (3/???) 

it's my birthday, and last night i/we began lactating.

It's been a week since i/we personally started working to stimulate the tissue in question, and our birthing experience had some really strong, good points to it.

We consider the experience itself, despite the horrendous path to get there, to be quite positive, with few real functional or over-time downsides.

They encouraged us to have skin-contact as much and early as possible, with the birthing parent being the focus of the attention for the initial "golden hour". We are privileged, and lucky, and our staff was with few exceptions competent and professional and demonstrated genuine caring for our individual needs, as a pod with three parents.

And also, happy birthday to me, I got a baby and started to lactate. Wasn't sure if I could do that, was hoping, but...

...this is a good birthday. Even though I'm packing to move, again.

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healthcare, history, cop mention, thread (2/???) 

Keep in mind, we got illegally force-"evicted" (for non-payment during the initial months of the pandemic) from our stable housing of more than a year by an ex-cop-turned-landlord.

This was about a week after we found out we were pregnant. We'd been actively trying for years, and kinda...gave up because of my intersex bits and my partner's chronic disability, so we had a happy, wonderful, amazing surprise...and then our world fell apart.

First was housing. Our rent straight up tripled, and in quick succession we had...four or five housing situations turn bad, within weeks and at one point DAYS after getting almost-stable.

During this period, our address changed RAPIDLY, and the healthcare system didn't acknowledge we'd moved for about the first three-four months of pregnancy.

This was...frustrating, and difficult, as pregnant partner was experiencing hyper-amesis (inability to stop throwing up), so if not for the pandemic, they would have hospitalized my partner.

Instead, we white-knuckled through the worst of it at an RV park (thanks to the privilege of access to grandfather's fifth-wheel home) within the county with good hospitals...we prioritized getting good healthcare, and it took weeks of all-day phone calls to finally line up our first appointment at the clinic.

We arrived, and immediately they said we were NOT covered, despite excessive amounts of double-checking and confirming that our insurance is accepted. They refused to let us continue the appointment without paying them four figures up front.

I paid, because we had a little in savings. We found out later this is called "force-pay", and it's highly illegal to do that to someone with our insurance.

It took months to get a partial refund (we have FULL insurance coverage), because the problem originated when they moved people from an older "legacy" healthcare tracking system to a new "unified" system...and they reverted our address to the one from the previous summer.

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healthcare, birthing experience, introduction, boost okay, thread 

So, the hospital lost our baby.

Not, as in, the physical baby.
The digital baby.

The baby, which exists in our arms, has not yet been given a name.

Were it up to i/we, that would remain until they understood consent, the deepness of naming, and had life experience to choose as an adult.

i/we becomes content with the knowledge that my region's administration makes it relatively easy to change the way one's identity is represented in the system, so they may, in future-life, decide and update, if they so choose.

And also, despite having a medical record number, our visit information, and the time/date/room number/staff information, all tracked atop the "latest" in tech, they cannot find our baby (so that we may schedule our pediatrics follow appointment.

i/we are privileged to be able to attend the appointment regardless (not to mention having the knowledge, opportunity, and agency to insist that the organization in question assumes their proper responsibility as a medical organization specializing in the care of children), and i/we will be following up with the technical systems responsible for the screwup, because let me tell you a story about how a mis-managed database merge left my partner without healthcare FOR OUR UNBORN CHILD for about the first third of our pod's pregnancy.

This is a rant about healthcare.
Buckle in.
Parent-mode engaged, apparently.

(1/???)

(p.s. anyone have practical advice on lactation advice on Newman-Goldfarb protocol? )

oil transportaion, engineering as a plural nonbinary system, decolonizing, being of the land 

Still, this is about oil.

And engineer-brain (which has spent most of life imagining mesh-type organic networks) took one look at the previously-mentioned infographic, and spit out several datapoints based on back-of-the-envelope-estimations that are part of the engineering-brain tools.

# Namely:

- most (70th percentile) pipelines (...and spills, chimes in from the peanut-gallery) were relatively coastal-adjacent (...perhaps coal mining/burning overlayed would fill the void in the middle, librarian-brain murmurs in the background), and there were far more spills on the rightward coast...and the chart was slightly top-heavy on the right side, and much more bottom-heavy on the left side.

- Most of the spills that were outside of "clusters" had a 2/3-ish ration of vertically-oriented vs horizontally...there are more spills going north-south (roughly) than east-west.

- The left and right sides barely connect, and seem to have patches of bare in the middle where vertically-oriented "streamers" of spills, with clusters around places with more interconnecting pieces.

Engineering brain pares this down to a rough algorithm where connections, pipe length, and toxic impact are solved for zero, and the conclusion that "oil must be transported like any other material that is poisonous to carbon-based life...carefully and with great reason or great need."

This makes a much less snappy infographic, until you bring it an iteration further, and simply say "pipelines aren't careful enough", or perhaps "pipelines leak, require full containment now", or that sort of thing.

The point is, finding the core thing, the root cause or causes, becomes a stronger outcry for the removal of petrocarbon-based, and especially worse-than-net-zero carbon fountains than the original meme.

And this was momentary, and simple for the pathways in my neural network.

Optimized for this, work is relatively easy.

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engineering, decolonizing, being of the land 

My pinboard feed gave me an infograph, yesterday, that compared the overlay of "pipelines" and "oil spills", concluding that "oil cannot be transported safely".

This bothered me, because they're coming to the reasonable conclusions for incorrect reasons (regarding the physics of logistics)...reasons which allow people to continue thinking as they do on one "side" of the "issue", and for both "sides" to dismiss and further other any outside perspective.

And, the truth is, consuming oil is dangerous, and accidents happen more and more as maintenance budgets keep getting thinner.

So, oil is pretty fascinating, scientifically. We can do super weird things. But as a fuel, it's pretty well obsolete now that we can store hydrogen in solid format for "safe" transport/consumption.

And yet, this resource-extraction mindset thinking is part of the insidious programming of the kyriarchy, and the words of an elder often come to me:
unsettlingamerica.wordpress.co

My upbringing in a middle class rural community was privileged af, and my mindset is influenced, heavily, by the decades and centuries since the land and people have been free of toxic influence.

And, there's a lot to be said for the practices of engineering, science, and knowledge-sharing from multiple cultures.

...i/we recently came across an observation that "writing" originated in three places globally, one of which was the continent upon which i/we reside, with our family.

Despite my heritage, decolonizing has been an adult process.

I only learned the word "kyriarchy" a little bit ago, and that or any other element of lacking-knowledge-or-progress doesn't make the fact that we live on unceded land any "better".

Still, this about oil.

Engineer brain knows that my careful footfalls are provably better for the forest than a pipeline construction crew or an oil spill cleanup effort.

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heritage, being of the land 

This does not give me rights beyond those given to any.

This is not claiming either of the cultures which were watered down to the point of near-uselessness by the forceful occupation of my parent's ancestral homelands, all the many closed practices were lost to my families generations ago are just as closed to me as to anybody.

My place is knowing that my life will be lived on a path that gives my children, and others, places of generational contributions, to grow, and build, and believe, in safety.

My place is being the reason the children of three and thirty generations from now lives not in hope of fullness of life, but flourishes as Indigenous to the places they stay, whether on this world or any other.

My place is to make certain that the ones who live closest to the land, the unhoused and weary, the traveler and the immigrant, find places of safety and rest and healing under the stars.

My place is to build things, and hope that I am not the last, but simply the next in line of life unbroken since time became linear.

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heritage, being of the land 

When saying that i/we are lowercase "i" indigeneous, it is meant that my way of life, the practice of living out what childhood dealt me deeply, is a privilege that few people today have, or understand. I mean that I'm not Indigenous (with an uppercase "I") to this topographical area, and yet am a child native to the wetlands-and-rain-forest, of functional upbringing among the trees, of biological ancestry, life lived, confirmation by a shaman who sits with the elders at the bioregion's councils, and of active ongoing adult choice.

...don't know what I am, fully, but in the same way I can say with absolute certainty "I am not male", I can and very much *do* state certainty, I am not "white".

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heritage, possibly a subtoot? 

A couple of weeks ago, a poll, asking if someone would "prefer to not be white".

It bothered me a lot. I've got pale skin and blue eyes. But I'm not "white".

My father had nothing of our Indigenous Kiowa culture to overtly pass on, his way of thought has become completely absorbed by the military (he was Navy, his father Army, his elder brother Air Force), and Grandmother and i/we have been...out of touch since before i/we began searching for adult-relationship with others and heritage. And, it was an acceptance of that heritage that prompted, in part, the adult name change...the surname he passed to me was as unwanted as his rigid military mindset of life. From him i/we learned to hunt, to stalk, and to be with the flow of the land to avoid destroying without necessity...to use the whole animal, and...that the person we become in the forest is something people do not want us to show them. Pretend to be civilized until it becomes second nature. Pretend. Pretend the Hunter under our skin does not exist.

My mother taught me the sharing ways, of mending and weaving and pressing and preserving. We reused, repaired, and reused, because we lived with the land and the land lived with us, like it had always been for people of the soil and woods. Her family was Jewish-flavoured in the same way my paternal family is Kiowa, mostly through as window dressing from an adult perspective, but as a child it was a heritage that we took seriously...our family immigrated here because of fascist oppression during the world war, and we killed our messiah back in bible times.

So, this combo of "Kiowa dad, Jewish mom", it means that there's a lot that adult-me can point to and say "this was part of my upbringing, and it's not whiteness that defines me". My childhood was spent believing and engaging in appreciation, practice, and hope, all revolving around the belief that, despite my skin colour, I've got more than a melatonin count that matters.

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Hello, future traveler.

You might not know it from the massively silo'd, centralized, insecure, and advertisement-filled tech you see all around you...

...but once upon a time our Things(tm) worked without an internet because there was no internet, and we kinda preferred it that way.

Minetest 

Oi, @jude_ the chat permissions stuff is fixed on the minetest server.

(...fixing this may have reset @emsenn to basic permissions, so please let me know if something isn't working right...)

"...all war on Earth is civil war; a war in
which we are turned against ourselves." ~Klara Kali, Secret Doors, p57

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armchair self-analysis 

had to literally fight myself to not do *the exact thing I'm reading about in the context of my own city*, so you can say this is pretty personal for me.

The core idea, that one must by first reframing language and thought.

Being aware of, and actively working agains, how the kyriarchy will try to force us through any means to fear and fight one another, rather than grow collectively angry and strike upwards is our focus.

We are one people, on one earth.

The lines between us have been drawn to keep us enslaved, or so it is written.

So while America tells us Europe must die, and we fight over which cause to champion first, the Kyriarchy wins, and the People grow hungrier and less hopeful.

This is not an ask to do more, this is acknowledgement of barriers in our collective path.

The details matter.

So I'm making the point of not making this an us-vs-them thing, of labeling "someone else" as doing the action I'm so often guilty of doing.

And the point is, each moment is a choice, and we can at any time choose to examine, consider, and act according to first principles, rather than the the language leads to pour out of our mouths.

We can poison one another, just with our recorded thoughts.

This is a power that seems to be often used unwisely.

Most often, in my own self.

I/we speak without thinking, or considering the full ramifications of what might be heard when contemplating the use of a word. Inner thoughts become outer, and often words are insufficient to communicate the idea, intent, or forethought...and often i/we assume knowledge that is privileged or specialized.

These things are a framework to check my reality against what things seem to be.

---

We can never truly know another's thoughts.

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"...the oppressed will gladly become the oppressor, feeling justified in acting-out their trauma..."
~ Klara Kali, Secret Doors, p44
(via castaliafoundation.com/)

Today was the first time since Grandfather's funeral meal in...2014...that a stranger has correctly gendered me (in public without excessive prompting).

(...unsurprisingly, this wasn't a white person. >_> )

They just...looked at me, saw me for who I was and am, and directed me to the correct aisle for my item.

And it brightened my day.

usa empire history, tv show reference 

If you think nobody saw this coming, watch s3e11 of Star Trek : Deep Space 9.

Go on, I'll wait.

Tell me that nobody saw this coming.

I dare you.

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usa empire history, music reference 

(Sick Puppies - "Gunfight", July 2013)

Here's a little story how "the west" was won:
The white man came and took out everyone.
The used dirty blankets and they used machine guns.
And they didn't think twice about what they've done

Here's a little story 'bout Kevin Bacon
He had a bunch of money but he got taken
He got a bunch of lawyers and he tried to sue
But Bernie looked at him and said, "Hey, fuck you!"

[Chorus]
Don't bring a knife to a gunfight
You'll lose!
Don't bring a knife to a gunfight
You'll lose!

[Verse 2]
Here's a little story 'bout the congressmen
They bailed out all of their billionaire friends
You can blame Bush or you can try and blame Obama, but
You should have fucking learned from your daddy or your mama!

[Chorus]
Don't bring a knife to a gunfight
You'll lose!

[Verse 3]
Some fights just ain't fair
Some fights just ain't fair
No, some fights just ain't fair

[Chorus]
Don't bring a knife to a gunfight
You'll lose!

[Verse 4]
Here's a little story 'bout Tienanmen Square
The people rose up and said "Life ain't fair!"
Now they sweatin' in the shop making iPhones thin
You stand in front of tanks, the tanks are going to win!

[Chorus]
Don't bring a knife to a gunfight
You'll lose!
Don't bring a knife to a gunfight
You'll lose!
Don't bring a knife to a gunfight
You'll lose!
Don't bring a knife
Don't bring a knife
You'll lose!

(via genius.com/Sick-puppies-gunfig)

definitions, expectations, violence 

Definitions must come first.

That which is not known, cannot be known without direct input.

Until we define our meanings, this colonizer language will distort our meanings towards violence, this is part of how control is maintained.

When we turn our outlets of conflict towards one another, it deepens the rifts that are intended to divide us.

An example are the observations via this link:
dailyxtra.com/why-are-queer-pe

(this link is corrupted with the advertisements and other resource extraction, and it is with regret that i/we have no better eample.)

To adequately protect ourselves from this sort of cyclical oppression, to accept the task of enabling Community through our extension of the remotely-connected world, there must be a different way.

We must start by asking one another to use words against what oppresses us, rather than those who struggle alongside us.

We all are victims of the same systems we engage with that oppress us all.

We will never be the perfect victim of another's worldview.

There must be room for each of us to suffer, struggle, and resist the myriad ways the systems of abuse infiltrates our lives, and the way our minds become paths of infection for the fear that causes us to direct harm towards the ones who love us.

Defining our limits allows others to safely interact.

If you do not tell i/we your role, thresholds, and future-path, it will be clumsy, at best, but i/we will try to respect boundary and need.

There is enough for everyone, but we are pushed always to spend ourselves making profit for others.

Consider that simply breathing is an act of rebellion, when the system wants each breath to reek of fear and siphoned productivity.

Let your hands fall idle.

Keep breathing, and keep thinking, and keep asking yourself to act in the best interest of your neighbor, your self.

Only you can know how you need to grow, and only you can redirect your violence where it is deserved.

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Welcome to the Native Reclamation of Turtle Island

We are a tiny organization defending against the exploitation, hatred and greed of colonial empires and the monopolistic social media platforms they rely upon: Fascistbook and Twoetter.


Fewer than 900 Ecosteader decals exist.

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