As I flew through the front door Tammy hollered from the other side of the Penthouse with, “He called you like 20 times! Your answering machine is full…I can hear the 3,447 more words
We would all meet at the Black Angus Restaurant on Davie Street at the end of our night, usually around 3 A.M. The year was 1979, I was 17, still two years underage to drink in British Columbia, but I had had fake ID since I was 15, so I now was a fake 21 with the Punk meets Disco pounded face paint and an intense look on my face from the nights’ 1,145 more words
This space exists in order to amplify the voices of people who are traditionally marginalized and silenced.
This space exists in order to provide allies of all stripes (white allies, straight allies, male allies, cis allies, and so on) with resources to alleviate the suffering of their fellow humans. 216 more words
Ms. Mock, I am writing this to you today, to insist that you step down from any and all future transactivism.
I have already demonstrated how Julia Serano, trans-activist superstar, is utterly clueless about FAB life, and her concepts such as “cis” anything, are based on trans-centered thinking, and highly flawed. 536 more words