stavvers

Things I read this fortnight that I found interesting

Good afternoon, it’s time for the link round-up again, isn’t it?

The New Misandry: Man-Hating in 1972 (Joanna Russ)- This article was written over 40 years ago and pretty much every word of it is still relevant.

Beyond The Binary– Signal boost of a new magazine for and by NB folk.

David Cameron’s proposed encryption ban would ‘destroy the internet’ (Rob Price)- Very clear explanation of why the proposal is so fucking dangerous.

Amandla Stenberg Didn’t Attack Kylie, Leave Our Princess Alone! (Jamilah Lemieux)- Addressing the horrifically unfair standards levelled at young Black girls.

When Celebrating Accessible Technology is Just Reinforcing Ableism (crippledscholar)- Great article about how some tech makes abled people think they don’t need to make the world itself more accessible.

“Can’t you just CHOOSE?”: Being bi with a preference (Charlotte Dingle)- Something that isn’t discussed much when it comes to bi people, said well.

The dangers of trans broken arm syndrome (Naith Payton)- Short piece neatly explaining the driver for a lot of healthcare challenges faced by trans people.

Proof: Bill Cosby (Jessica W Luther)- Looking at the standards of “proof” demanded.

The Illusion of “Neutral” (Feminist Aspie)- Demolishing the “neutrality” that privileged people claim to hold.

Serena Williams and the Fear of a Dominant Black Woman (Tomas Rios)- Excellent article on reactions to Serena.

The history of British slave ownership has been buried: now its scale can be revealed (David Olusoga)- Long read, but definitely worth it. Slave ownership was very commonplace in Britain and now its history must be acknowledged.

And finally, why yes, it’s another kitten livestream.

On Pluto and planethood: or, how science isn’t very good at classification

As I write, New Horizons is within celestial spitting distance of Pluto. When the craft was launched in 2006, Pluto was a planet. It isn’t any more.

Later in 2006, the International Astronomical Union (IAU), decided to finally get their shit together and define what a planet actually was. You see, in the run-up to 2006, improvements in observation methods had led to the discovery of what is scientifically known as a fucking fuckload of objects, at least one of which was more massive than Pluto. This would not do, because with each new discovery, it had been possible to say it wasn’t a planet because it was smaller than Pluto (pleasingly, the object more massive than Pluto was named Eris, after the goddess of fucking shit up and ruining everyone’s day). And so the IAU decided to finally figure out what the hell comprised a planet, and couldn’t manage a definition that left you with My Very Easy Method Just Shows Us Nine Planets.

And so, Pluto was stripped of its planetary status, because it only met two out of the three criteria they’d settled on for planethood: yes, Pluto orbited the Sun and was massive enough to be approximately round, but unfortunately for poor old Pluto, it didn’t meet the third criteria–clearing the neighbourhood of its orbit (i.e. there’s other stuff around where Pluto orbits).

This isn’t the first time a planet has been demoted. A little over 200 years ago, it was hypothesised that there was a small planet between Mars and Jupiter, to account for the relatively large gap between the two planets. They found the hypothesised planet in 1801 (then they lost it, then they found it again, but that’s a different story entirely). They named it after the goddess of agriculture, gave it a symbol and everything. Just a year later, another object in the vicinity was found… and then another, then another, and then basically they had a fucking fuckload of the fucking things. It was eventually decided that we would call these small objects orbiting between Mars and Jupiter the asteroids, and they were a different kettle of fish to the planets.

Funnily enough, with the 2006 definition of planets and dwarf planets, Ceres has been sort-of-promoted, to occupy the same dwarf planet class as Pluto. Good for it, I suppose.

The 2006 definition of planethood has been criticised, because of the “clearing the neighbourhood of its orbit” criteria, and not just because it means Pluto is no longer a planet, which kind of makes everything we learned at school about the nine planets a fiction (or something). The thing is, it also means that Earth isn’t a planet, because we have Cruithne, and Jupiter isn’t because of its trojans, and Neptune isn’t a planet either because of its army of plutinos… turns out that this “clearing the neighbourhood” gig is not particularly well-defined either, so if I fancied, I could demote that oversized shitlord Jupiter, with its more moons than it has any business having and its smug red spot.

It’s worth noting at this juncture that while the science upon which the “clearing the neighbourhood of its orbit” is based doesn’t deplanet Earth, Jupiter and Neptune, the wording of the definition adopted by the IAU does. Stern and Levinson wrote a discussion paper, laying out a proposed new scheme which contained size criteria for a planet–small enough to have never ignited a fusion reaction, but big enough to be roundish. As well as this, they suggested dividing “uberplanets” from “unterplanets” by their ability to be gravitationally dominant. This is not simply clearing the neighbourhood of everything: a gravitational interaction is acceptable. The paper is an interesting, and reasonably accessible one, and well worth a read as it outlines a lot of the problems with approaches to defining a planet. It’s assumed that the IAU’s neighbourhood clearance criterion was based on Stern and Levinson’s work, although Alan Stern himself points out that it’s a bit of a shitty criterion and excludes literally half the planets.

So, in short, what happened was we started out with no definition of a planet: it was something we just knew when we saw one. And now, we have a definition of a planet, and it’s pretty much just a manifestation of what feelings we have about planets, which Alan Stern described as “sloppy science and it would never pass peer review”.

That’s a thing with the science of categorisation, though. For the most part, it simply reflects what prejudices and constructions we have about whatever is being categorised, because it’s humans doing the categorising. It is something which needs to be undertaken with a degree of reflexivity. A lot of the time, we can pootle on for years lumping and splitting things into various categories, only for that to be thrown into disarray when new information emerges (take, for example, the advent of DNA analysis, and how that has moved a lot of animals around the tree of life). With new information, we tend to redefine based on what we already think.

Some areas are more behind than others. For example, if we defined planets in the same way we considered biological sex, we’d only count the five or six planets we can see with the naked eye.

I expect that within my lifetime, I will see the definition of “planet” changed once or twice more, to incorporate new discoveries, but, more than that, to maintain a comfortable number of planets that falls within Miller’s Magic Number: I suspect this is the ultimate motivation for creating a reductive approach to categorisation.

So, is Pluto a planet, or is it not a planet? Does it really matter? I consider it so, not due to any scientific criteria–although I am sure I could rustle up a definition. All right, fine, fuck it. A planet should have an atmosphere which isn’t predominatly just particles flying at it from the Sun. This makes Pluto a planet (it has an atmosphere and literally as I write this a spaceship is studying it!), but it makes Mercury not a planet since it doesn’t fit this criterion; which is fine, because fuck Geminis, they don’t need a ruling planet, the two-faced bastards.

This, then, is the challenge in classification, categorisation, and building definitions, and similar problems pop up everywhere. Remember this, when you see definitions presented, and categories built by scientists. Remember it, and question it–what do they stand to gain, or preserve?

A couple of years after Pluto got demoted, I was doing my PhD (I never finished). My subject matter involved classification and categorisation, and I turned to the natural sciences to have a look at how they did stuff. I suppose, in its own way, this post is the reinterpretation of the findings of the literature review I published; this is something which lurked in the back of my mind, but I didn’t really have the courage to say at the time, because it would put my work on a pretty shaky footing from the off. I needed to believe that classification systems had some sort of “objectivity” to them. I might have nodded in Borges’s direction then, but now I think I’m basically with him.

It’s 2015. Why the fuck are men still being hired to run women’s publications?

Feminism has already won, say people with no fucking clue whatsoever.

Even the gains made by the cishet white middle class feminists aren’t really that strong, despite what the clueless might have you think.

One would imagine that, in the year 2015, even without the hoverboards and instant food, it might be considered common sense for a new head of a women’s publication to be a woman. That those hiring would think “oh, well, obviously this role is best suited to a woman, since she’ll have the additional qualification of a cursory knowledge of issues that affect women, so won’t need so much training or finding her feet.”

Alas, even such a fucking basic concept still seems to be beyond the grasp of many. Vice have launched their new women’s section, and decided that, of all the people who applied for the job, the best-qualified was some bloke called Mitchell Sunderland. As far as I can tell, this isn’t some elaborate practical joke, the only possible explanation for this which doesn’t lead me to seriously question Vice’s recruitment strategy.

Maybe Mitchell Sunderland was the only person who applied. Maybe not a single woman applied for the role. Maybe… nope, I got nothing.

So, what has Mitchell Sunderland managed to cobble together so far? There’s a strapline, which is based on a catchphrase from a 90s comedy show, and it isn’t exactly particularly funny when Broadly has flat-out shown that it doesn’t think women are qualified to run a section when a man has applied. He also appears to be a bit of a bellend, and not exactly “get” women’s concerns.

There will be the inevitable bleating about “baaaaaw equaaaaality” to try to defend Sunderland’s appointment, but I refuse to believe that of everyone who applied for this role, Sunderland was the most qualified. Indeed, if anything, his appointment looks rather a lot like playing favourites: he seems to have had rather a strong content-producing relationship with Vice so far.

Women know how shit things are when men are telling them what they want. It’s why ads catering to women are so bad. It’s why the government is fucking women over so viciously. It’s why Broadly will probably manage to limbo beneath the rest of Vice as the lowest that journalism can go.

Broadly doesn’t need to be feminist, but a woman’s section should be run by a woman, and I refuse to believe that there are no women qualified to run such a section. I refuse to believe that there are no women who applied for the job who were equally, if not more qualified than Mitchell Sunderland.

It’s still a man’s world, and even the fucking tiniest wins were never won at all.

Things I read this week that I found interesting

I’ve actually managed to do a weekly round-up for once. Somebody get me a cookie.

My name is only real enough to work at Facebook, not to use on the site (Zoë Cat)- Facebook’s real name policy is absurd as well as vicious.

Why, No Matter What, I Still Can’t Marry My Girlfriend (Jordan Gwendolyn Davies)- In the US, marriage equality is not what it seems.

Misogynoiristic Expectancy: Social Media Popularity and the Black Femme (Riley H)- Let’s hear about online abuse from someone who isn’t a rich white cis lady.

This Is What Rihanna’s BBHMM Video Says About Black Women, White Women and Feminism (Mia McKenzie)- If you only read one article about that video, make it this one.

Bitch Better Have My Intersectional Feminism or STFU About My Video (nerdygirlswag)- Actually, you should read two articles on it, and this is the other one, and it’s very short so.

I changed my mind on trigger warnings and here’s why you should too (Girl On The Net)- Very good article on why sex bloggers should use trigger warnings.

Rape Scenes Aren’t Just Awful. They’re Lazy Writing (Laura Hudson)- Pretty thorough takedown of most excuses where men will try to crowbar in a rape scene.

A Linguist Explains How We Write Sarcasm on the Internet (Gretchen McCulloch)- This is a really interesting article about the way means of conveying sarcasm have evolved online.

And finally, Christian Grey’s words coming out of Flashheart’s mouth. Woof!

Rape scenes are usually lazy writing and directing

Content warning: this post discusses rape, sexual violence and media misogyny

Rape scenes are horribly popular in the media, and seldom necessary. With a flicker of hope, I wonder if savvy viewers are finally kicking back against this tedious trope as an opening-night audience booed a completely gratuitous rape scene crowbarred into an opera.

The defences of the scene were the same old tired shit. The director of the Royal Opera House said:

“The production includes a scene which puts the spotlight on the brutal reality of women being abused during war time, and sexual violence being a tragic fact of war,”

while one of the cast said:

“Maybe it went a little longer than it should have, but it happened and I think it’s an element you can use to show just how horrible these people were that were occupying this town,”

while the director of the production said exactly the same thing too:

“If you don’t feel the brutality, the suffering these people have had to face, if you want to hide it, it becomes soft, it becomes for children,”

I often wonder about the existence of this hypothetical audience member who cannot understand that a villain is bad, and conditions are awful for women, without being literally shown a woman being raped. I presume Rossini, who wrote the opera in 1829, didn’t have such a low opinion of those who would appreciate his work, considering he didn’t write that scene in himself–it was added by the director.

I’ve written before about how a competent production doesn’t need to show a rape scene for the audience to grok that this is a bad place full of bad people, comparing the latest Mad Max to Game of Thrones. To me, putting a rape on stage or screen or on the page as a form of scene-setting is the very pinnacle of laziness. A decent writer or director can build up an air of threat, of terror, without having to use salacious violence against women as a shorthand for this. It’s the Michael Bay school of show don’t tell… rather than hinting and using subtlety, they show with a gross insult to the audience’s capacity to think.

Yes, there are times where as rape scene is actually relevant to the plot, but these instances are few: tiny, compared to the number of times such scenes have been smeared in there like shit on a portaloo wall.

People will use the potentially imaginary audience member to excuse what is essentially a failure of men’s skills at writing and directing. I cannot say I have ever met or spoken to–or even had a screeching comment–from somebody who admits that they are incapable of grasping that the situation is dire or the villain is a bad ‘un without having to see somebody being raped.

Perhaps, therefore, audience are smarter than writers and directors think. And this means that they must stop using the same worn-out old excuses to cover for their fatuous productions. In turn, perhaps this means they will finally have to face a challenge of creating something with a little bit of thought behind it.

Things I read this fortnight that I found interesting

And now for your semi-regular linkdump.

I interrupted Obama because we need to be heard (Jennicet Gutierrez)- If you read one thing this week, make it this. The “White House Heckler” lays out the things the President wanted to silence her from saying.

This Is Why Everyone Cheering Gay Marriage Should Stand With the White House “Heckler” Now (Bea Esperanza Fonseca)- Where next? Very neatly answered.

Against Students (Sara Ahmed)- Thorough takedown of the absolutely dreadful shite being spouted about higher education. This is a fucking must-read.

NHS Gender Identity Symposium – Some Basic Demands (Queer Blue Water)- The bare minimum UK-based trans people want from the state.

Why the Charleston AME Church Shooting was not a “hate crime” (Kojothelibsoc)- How the language used to discuss the Charleston massacre erases what is actually going on.

Dylann Roof is not an extremist (Zoe Samudzi)- In a similar vein, because there’s a lot of fuckery going on in the white media.

This Is What It’s Like To Recover From An Eating Disorder During Ramadan (Hussein Kesvani)- Examining the intersections between Islam and eating disorders.

‘Now I have the money to feminise my face I don’t want to. I’m happy that this is the face God gave me’ (G2)- Laverne Cox being all-round incredible.

Is it a slippery slope if we remove the Confederate flag? Yes, and that’s a good thing for America (Shaun King)- Removing the Confederate flag could force conversations that need to happen.

In Defense of Casual Romance (Kitty Stryker)- Casual romances are something I’d love to see more of.

We Need To Talk About The Furiosa Comic (Ana Mardoll)- Thorough takedown of the Furiosa comic, which seems to have failed everywhere Fury Road succeeded.

What If We Treated All Consent Like Society Treats Sexual Consent? (Alli Kirkham)- Good 101 on how ridiculously consent is treated.

And finally look at this terrible little fluffy home invader!

I won’t be going to Pride tomorrow

Content note: this post discusses homophobia, transphobia and biphobia

Tomorrow sees London’s Pride parade, supposedly a celebration of how brilliant things are. Each year, it leaves a sour taste in my mouth, because things are not great. They really, really aren’t, unless you’re one of the lucky ones who yell over the voices that should be heard and dominate our movement.

On a personal level, I wouldn’t feel safe attending the event with either of my partners. For a supposedly inclusive space, Pride in London is peculiarly intolerant of anybody but monosexuals and cis people. Marchers yell “breeders” at bi people, with many overtly expressing that they thing bi people shouldn’t be there.

And then there’s the transphobia, which they say they’ve cleared up, but it doesn’t look like it has. Perhaps “toiletgate”–transmisogyistic barring of trans women from accessing toilet facilities–has been cleared up. but a lot of the trans women I know don’t want to be the guinea pigs in finding this out.

So, even if I went, my friends and partners wouldn’t be there, so what’s the fucking point?

It seems as though a schism is becoming more visible than ever in our community. On one side are the marginalised, the oppressed. On the other are those who don’t give a fuck. This issue was perhaps exemplified in this week’s intervention by Jennicet Gutierrez, and the reaction to it.

Gutierrez is a trans woman and undocumented migrant. At a White House dinner, set up to circlejerk about how very good on LGBT rights Barack Obama is, Gutierrez shouted out truths. She pointed out the violences occurring against LGBT migrants, how they were being detained and deported, facing sexual and physical violence, by Obama’s very own administration. As reward, she was shouted down by the hypocrite she was trying to address, and hauled away by the Secret Service. The audience, who were ostensibly comprised of LGBT people, booed her and showed happiness at her silencing.

Here’s what Gutierrez wanted to say. Read her words, and digest them.

We have little to celebrate, all things considered. Yes, we can get married, and yes, in the US a breakthrough was made where now openly gay people can be killed in combat. Yet these are hardly victories when our siblings are homeless, facing violence, in poverty, in fear.

London’s Pride events ignore all of this. London’s Pride events actively march perpetrators of the violences we face through our streets. There was protest about UKIP marching, but so many more of the marchers are our enemies. The police, Tories, and countless corporations. If you can’t see why it’s inappropriate that they’re there, then you are out of touch with the very real violences which face a lot of us.

We have a lot of work to do, and the Pride parade is like a rainbow flag pinned to a wall covered in cracks. The issues are still there, but it distracts from them, giving the cishet population a feeling of warm fuzzies. Too many LGB people are complicit in distracting from the fights yet to be won: the fights which are barely being fought.

So no, I’m not going, because I know there’s nothing to celebrate, and nothing to be won by being there.

Things I read this fortnight that I found interesting

It’s time for that periodic links round up! I hope you find these links I’ve put together interesting.

The Tory attack on queer youth. A call to arms. (Don’t hold your tongue)- So important that we read this and heed the call to fight.

Don’t let them tell you the election was a victory for women. (Emily Hawkins)- Some feminists genuinely seem to believe this election was a victory for women. They are wrong, wrong, WRONG.

My 22 years on Pakistan’s death row could end this week. What purpose will my execution serve? (Aftab Bahadur)- Heartbreaking essay from a man who has been on death row since he was 15. Sadly, he was killed by the state on Wednesday.

[untitled] (Laverne Cox)- Laverne Cox talks about Caitlyn Jenner and privilege.

Your Child Should Never Be Forced to Hug Anyone (Yes, Including a Relative) (James St James)- Shit that shouldn’t need saying, said well.

From Hamid Mahmood to Harry Mason….. (Hamid Mahmood)- Exposing white supremacy in the job application process.

Facing psychological coercion and manipulation has become a daily part of claiming benefits (Felicity Callard and Robert Stearn)- On the terrifying and unethical use of psychologists from the DWP.

Cyprus at the Crossroads (Leandros Fischer and Daphnos Economou)- On the history and present of communism in Cyprus.

Unshaming the future in my coffee cup (Laura Aharonian)- On shame, and cultural memories of the Armenian genocide.

Calling Yourself Fat For the First Time (Tilly Jean)- An honest piece about claiming a label amid stigma.

How Queer Relationships Can Get Stuck in Harmful Gender Norms (And Why We Really Need to Get Unstuck) (Michael “MJ” Jones)- Shedding light on how misogyny seeps into queer relationships.

And finally, if for some reason you need a break in your tearing through Orange Is The New Black this weekend, there’s a kitten cam live and they’re adorable. Look at their little orange paws!

Urban fantasy

Um, so I’m experimenting with writing fiction. Sort of. Enjoy.

He came out of a jam jar which I’d found at the back of the fridge and wanted to rinse the fur out of. It was a nice jar, and I was sick of Lily and Jen leaving things to rot. I wasn’t working that day, and I needed something free to fill the hours. Before I took in what the hell had just happened, I was pleased at how abruptly the unsavoury-looking greenish fluff had vanished.

“Greetings, master,” he probably said, dipping a little bow , his shiny head flashing as it caught the pale fluorescent light. He probably reeled off the whole spiel that he later seemed narky about repeating, but I didn’t notice as I was too busy shrieking and throwing that jam jar at the bald, middle-aged white man in a suit that had just materialised in my kitchen in a puff of smoke, the same mouldy shade as the contents of the jar.

He stood solidly, arms folded, with a patronising smirk on his face until my bluff was well and truly called, and I didn’t call the police because my the battery on my phone was dead.

“That went poorly,” he sighed. “I’m meant to appear to you in the form that your culture sees as someone who makes things happen.”

I looked him up and down. He looked like a banker, a lawyer, a manager, a head of department.

“You do. Just not someone who makes good things happen.”

“Well. Let’s get on with this then, shall we? Like I said, three wishes, then pop me back in a suitable container and they’ll come true tomorrow.”

The lure of anything being possible was intoxicating, and it quite dampened my initial scepticism of this stranger who had manifested in my living room. My mind whirled with possibilities. I could fix everything, be anyone, become rich beyond my wildest dreams and all because I had decided to wash up some of the filth left in the fridge by one of my housemates. That moral high ground alone would be more than enough to keep me flying for months; Lily and Jen would never hear the end of it.

That dissipated quite quickly as I began to think through the implications of any possible wishes, and I began to think of what it was I really wanted.

He stood there, tapping his foot, arms still folded.

“Usually, people know what they want pretty instantly. Your generation is the exception. Wanting everything, wanting nothing. I don’t even know.”

“I’m thinking,” I snapped. “I don’t want to phrase it ambiguously, in case you kill everyone I know, or something.”

Laughter danced in his eyes. “It has to be short. Tweet-length.” He pronounced the words with an edge of amused disgust.

“Fine.” I took a deep breath, and summoned the words I wanted. He might find the idea of Twitter somehow distasteful, but for me it had revolutionised my ability to articulate thoughts succinctly. “I wish for a regular income, enough to live on and buy some luxuries, doing something I love.”

A raised eyebrow. “Really? Nothing more ambitious? You don’t just want billions deposited in your bank account?”

I shook my head. “That’d probably end up with horrible consequences. You’d crash the economy, or I’d get arrested, or something like that.”

For the first time I saw a flicker of something like respect, followed by a wicked grin. “You’re right. That’s what usually happens. Anyway, what next?”

“I wish to live on my own, in London. Securely.”

“And finally? Usually people ask for love finally.”

I didn’t need love; I had that. And if this thing worked out I’d have my own pad in which to entertain Ella. In fact, I had been close to asking for a black Nando’s card, free chicken for the rest of my life, but doubt crept in at the very last moment. I wasn’t entirely sure if such a thing existed. Besides, something better had just occurred to me.

“One of those Oyster cards TFL employees get. You know, free transport. Oh, except I don’t have to work for TFL to get it.”

“That’s not tweet-length.”

“Yes it is. At my count, it’s 121 characters. I could add ‘you dick’ to the end and it would still be valid according to your specifications.”

“Fine,” he sighed. “Fucking millennials.”

At his instruction, I found a receptacle in which to pour his essence: it was an empty screwtop wine bottle. “Enjoy your wishes,” he said with a smirk as he and the bottle disappeared.

I went to bed that night expecting nothing to happen, the healthy scepticism finally hitting in. I was so, so wrong.

Wishes do come true.

I have a regular income, enough to live on and some luxuries, from doing something I love. I work long hours, and doing things I like in exchange for money sucks the joy out of doing them. I spend more of my time in an office far away, writing content and copy until my brain turns to mush. When I’m asked if I’m happy, I burble enthusiastically, as though I am selling a product, because it’s ungrateful to do anything else.

I live on my own, in London, securely. Sort of. It’s in zone 4. It takes an hour and a half to get to work, and an hour and a half back. I seldom see my friends any more, because none of them really fancy dragging themselves all the way out to Penge. Even Ella rarely stays, so we fuck in her room, a pillow over my mouth and holding still as a statue to avoid the creaking contributions of her mattress.

The oyster card is pretty good, I have to admit. I have few complaints about it, except I wish I had to use it less often. I think about wishes a lot now; and how I’d wish things differently.

I keep my eye out for a bottle, every day. An empty Gallo Brothers bottle, lined with a faint and repulsive-looking green fuzz. And I wonder, if I found it again, would I open it back up, or leave it in the back of my fridge for eternity?

So, that work of fiction is semi-autobiographical.

Fine, that’s a lie, but I am having a bit of money trouble at the moment. It’s nothing serious, but I do need a little bit of money to see me through to the end of the month. If you enjoyed my efforts, please, pretty please can you drop me a couple of quid? In return, I promise I’ll either continue or stop writing fiction, depending on what you prefer. Thank you so much xxxx

Update 14/6/15- thank you, lovelies. You’ve given me more than enough xx

Things I read this fortnight that I found interesting

Better late than never, eh? Have some links.

#SayHerName Report (AAPF)-A must-read report into deaths of Black women at the hands of the police.

We need to talk about safe spaces (Yomi Adegoke)- Shit that shouldn’t need saying, said well.

I Am the ‘Crazy Ex-Girlfriend’ the Men in Your Life Talk About, And I Have a Few Things to Say… (That Pesky Feminist)- Powerful piece, and basically TRUST NO MAN.

The Forgotten History of Romani Resistance (Pierre Chopinaud)- Raising awareness of a forgotten history.

Marriage is not Equality: Thoughts on #MarRef from a worried radical queer (Feminist Ire)- Important analysis, and worth bearing in mind if you’re celebrating.

How to Have a Good Night in Norwich (Jo Swo)- A new project to make Norwich nightclubs safer.

‘I’m gonna kill this lot’, and other things a police officer shouldn’t be saying during a protest (Hannah Dee)- Analysis of how police see protesters.

We trust children to know what gender they are – until they go against the norm (Diane Ehrensaft)- A defence of young children receiving treatment they need.

How Self-Described ‘Whore Nation’ Killed the TV Show ‘8 Minutes’ (Tara Burns)- A case study in community organising.

We Will No Longer Be Promoting HBO’s Game of Thrones (Jill Pantozzi)- Popular fandom website The Mary Sue has had it with GoT’s attitude to rape.

Mad Max: Troubled Road (20th Century Flicks)- How Fury Road could have been improved by including indigenous Australian actors.

Kitty Genovese’s secret lesbian history (Trish Bendix)- This important–and salient–aspect of Kitty Genovese’s life was completely erased from my psychology class.

5 Helpful Answers To Society’s Most Uncomfortable Questions (David Wong)- Send this Cracked article to whiney white men.

Safe Spaces are for White Men (Maya Goodfellow)- How white men desperately try and centre themselves.

Working at an abortion clinic challenged my pro-choice views — and confirmed them (Amy Beeman)- Touching article revealing the realities of working in an abortion clinic.

All Black Lives Matter: seeking justice for Sheku Bayoh (Siana Bangura)- A family is seeking answers. Spread their questions far and wide.

And finally, Mad Max posters improved with quotes from whiney white men who didn’t like it.