3,065 notes

When a man watches a woman get fucked on screen, he sees his conquest, his fuck doll, his wet-dream inspired perfect sex object, served up for him on a silver platter, gift wrapped and ribboned, ready for his consumption. But a woman- she sees herself. She masturbates to her own objectification, commodification, dehumanization and sexual punishment. She masturbates to ‘shut up and take it, slut’. She masturbates to ‘I’ll shove two dry fingers in your cunt, that’ll teach you’. She masturbates to ‘this is what your body is for. A vessel for my cock. A meal to chew up and spit out. A body to wipe drool and semen on. This is who you are’.
Gia London on what it’s like to watch mainstream porn as a woman (via 33113)

(Source: pinchblog, via 33113)

2,228 notes

He starts it off, as they always do, by saying,
“I still want to be friends” but I am already
on the next subway, the next taxi, the next whatever.
I am thinking about dinner that night, or the next night:
Angus beef, sauteed chicken, mahi mahi fish tacos.
I am thinking about the coffee pot and runner’s knee
and how much money I have in my savings. I am
thinking about hypothermia and missing bodies;
all the knives in my bed. I am thinking about how
the very word promise sounds more like an undoing.
I am thinking about the easiness of mouths.
How they open. How they give so much but also
about how they take away the things our minds
have committed to that permanent place of the brain,
where memories continue to rattle around long after
we’ve stopped shaking. I am thinking about how
he has turned me into a lake and I’ve never learned
how to swim. I am thinking about how I now have to
unlearn all of his secrets. Become a tourist to his body
again, blink against the hurt. I am thinking about
expensive hair cuts and retail therapy, dressing room
girls who are used to outlandish requests from customers.
I am thinking that this isn’t a dress my mother
would approve of, but honey, I look so good in red.
Kristina Haynes, “The Breakup Sweats”  (via 33113)

(via 33113)

192 notes

At the beginning of the twenty-first century, Dubai erupted onto the world stage as a media and tourism spectacle. A small emirate that had transformed from an ancient mercantile port into a “global city” in a matter of decade, it was breaking world records and luring tourists and investors with man-made islands in the shape of palm trees and over-the-top luxury hotels and shopping malls. At the beginning of the millennium, Dubai seemed to many to exemplify what Jean and John Camaroff have described as “millennial capital” — a neoliberal fantasy-world of consumerism and real-estate speculation built on the backs of transnational, transient, majority proletariat population.


The human elements of the city seem to exist at extremes, with wealthy — and exploitative — Gulf Arabs and international business tycoons on one end, and the downtrodden construction and maids, mostly from South Asia, on the other. In fact, the majority of the attention to South Asians and other migrant groups in the Gulf, both popular and academic, echoes the Comaroff’s arguments about capitalism and class at the turn of the millennium by focusing either on the lack of human rights afforded to migrant workers, or on the absent of forms of civil society in the authoritarian Gulf sates that disfranchises both foreigners and citizens alike, albeit in different was. The millennial story about Dubai emphasizes a new form — or “second coming” — of rampant neoliberal capitalism, with both its spectacles and abuses. 

Neha Vora, Impossible Citizens: Dubai’s Indian Diaspora (via namumkin)

Note: The South Asian “maids” that Vora talks about are also often victims of sex trafficking. Campaigners and officials say hundreds of young Pakistani women are also trafficked every year to supply the thriving sex trade in the brothels and nightclubs of Dubai and the way they get trapped into being enslaved is by being offered “domestic work” when in actuality they are forced to have sex with men. They are threatened with being handed over to the police/being blackmailed and often get trapped for many many years. 

(via lehaaz)

(via lehaaz)

322 notes


To be honest, I don’t get why women in some tyrannical military should be celebrated (from the U.S., Israel and Pakistan as examples) when these forces have proven themselves to be genocidal. If women join in, it’s not ‘revolutionary’. Saira Batool, a Hazara woman in the Pakistani Air Force, is seen as a revolutionary simply because she’s a Hazara woman in the Pakistani military. Nevermind that the Air Force is currently bombing Pashtuns in FATA and has displaced over 1 million Pashtuns since June 15, 2014 (when Operation Zarb-e-Azb was launched in FATA), because no one gives a damn about Pashtuns anyway. Nevermind anything the U.S., Pakistan and Israel militaries have done to civilians because let’s celebrate “strong and empowered” women in those militaries! These soldiers know what kind of brutal forces they’re joining and they are worthless and lacking in humanity because of that.

(via lehaaz)

77 notes

No, I think it’s quite unrealistic to expect what we call Bollywood or—I don’t think we should restrict ourselves when we’re talking about 100 years of cinema, we shouldn’t be talking only about Bollywood because after all there’s the Tamil cinema, and there’s Malayalam cinema and so on. But I think what unites all of them when we speak of their genre of filmmaking is that it’s commercial cinema. And I think to have expectations of a certain sort of—of any kind of politics, especially radical politics, coming out of a system which is essentially constructed around money, I think its an unrealistic assumption. I think that it’s something which will never be fulfilled. After all, if we look at America and you look at Hollywood, there are films that question the status quo in America, but they don’t come out of the studio system, because that studio system is like Bollywood, it’s all about money its about somebody is going to invest money. Now the sum of money may not be a hundred crore like in a big feature film, it could be five crore, but who is going to give you five crore and not expect returns. So I think the key to understanding commercial cinema whether it’s out of Bollywood or Chennai or Thiruvananthapuram or Kolkata, is that it’s essentially about money. And I think there was a brief period in the ’70s and ’80s when, what used to be called the Film Finance Corporation and later the National Film Development Corporation, tried to slip in and support what was called alternative cinema. It was an interesting experiment but doomed to fail because, you know, here you had films that were meant to push the boundaries of what we are talking about, they were meant to take on themes of the countryside, of what was happening in villages, but it was funded by the government! The government was happy to give a little bit of money to allow those films to be made, but they put nothing into the distribution of those films—and I’m not surprised because some of those films were, in their own way, quite radical in their questioning of what was going on. So whether it’s Bollywood commercial cinema or it’s a state supported alternative cinema, I think that it would be very very naive to expect them to actually produce anything which questions the status quo—which is I think when we are talking about political cinema, that’s what we are talking about, films that actually question things, and that’s not going to happen.
ALTERNATIVE SPACE FOR FILMS OF RESISTANCE IN BOLLYWOOD, Sanjay Kak on 100 Years of Cinema (via dhrupad)

(via lehaaz)

380 notes

I’ll be honest with you. I hate war in all its forms: physical, psychological, spiritual, emotional, environmental. I hate war, and I hate having to struggle…I wish I had been born into a world where it’s unnecessary. This context of struggle and being a warrior and being a struggler has been forced on me by oppression. Otherwise I would be a sculptor, or a gardener, a carpenter…I would be free to be so much more. I guess part of me or a part of who I am, a part of what I do is being a warrior, a reluctant warrior, a reluctant struggler. But I do it because I’m committed to life. We can’t avoid it, we can’t run away from it, because to do that is to be cowardice. To do that is to be subservient to devils, subservient to evil. And so that the only way to live on this planet with any human dignity at the moment is to struggle.
Assata Shakur (via lehaaz)

(Source: nuanced-subversion, via lehaaz)

3,713 notes

If Latin America had not been pillaged by the U.S. capital since its independence, millions of desperate workers would not now be coming here in such numbers to reclaim a share of that wealth; and if the United States is today the world’s richest nation, it is in part because of the sweat and blood of the copper workers of Chile, the tin miners of Bolivia, the fruit pickers of Guatemala and Honduras, the cane cutters of Cuba, the oil workers of Venezuela and Mexico, the pharmaceutical workers of Puerto Rico, the ranch hands of Costa Rica and Argentina, the West Indians who died building the Panama Canal, and the Panamanians who maintained it.
Juan Gonzalez, Harvest of Empire: A History of Latinos in America (via lehaaz)

(Source: anything-for-selenas, via lehaaz)