Journal of Other Forum Analysis (Volume II, Issue 2)

[Hap Shaughnessy]

https://www.resetera.com/threads/resistance-to-us-fascism-actions-resources-and-ways-to-organize.1098285/

[HaughtyFrank]

Reminded the male singer in this song is a fascist POS.

https://www.resetera.com/threads/this-track-from-claire-obscure-is-this-generations-%E2%80%9Cone-winged-angel-spoilers.1310977/post-145765618

Is there a single game out there they don't declare problematic?

Spoiler:  (click to show)(click to hide)

Concord

[D3RANG3D]

https://www.resetera.com/threads/resistance-to-us-fascism-actions-resources-and-ways-to-organize.1098285/

Tylenol Americans ladies and gentleman...

[benji]

https://www.resetera.com/threads/resistance-to-us-fascism-actions-resources-and-ways-to-organize.1098285/

Some really good pieces all written by Cindy Milstein, a Brooklyn based Anarchist. They're pretty much all lists of stories of various forms of resistance which serve as inspiration or specific actions you can take to help yourself and others:

We make our own sacred spaces — spaces on no maps — through repeated rituals of resistance whose meanings stretch beyond borders. Because our “grief knows no borders.”

Last year, I saw those four words in an Instagram post. They were painted on a banner carried by Jews outside the US Embassy in Jerusalem during a solidarity demo to collectively mourn Palestinians who, mere miles away, had been murdered by the Israeli Occupation Forces in Gaza — in a genocide that continues unabated. Soon after, across oceans and seas, on the one-year anniversary of forest defender Tortuguita’s murder by Georgia State Police in so-called Atlanta, some of us borrowed those same words for a banner at a “ritual of remembrance” (see number 12 below). The banner later became the basis for altars during Palestinian solidarity gatherings, and later still, at a university encampment.

Our rituals and ceremonies bring us into otherworldly realms, beyond the imposed time-space of colonialism and capitalism, states and fascism. For millennia, people have relied on rituals and ceremonies to interweave themselves fully into ecosystems with their seasons and cycles, including in nonlinear ways. To continually tell and reinterpret their own stories, drawing out lessons and ethics within them to make sense of shifting contexts or new dilemmas. To share and pass on memories, whether the wisdom of ancestors, spirits, nonhuman kin, gods or ghosts, or their own cultures and lifeways. To make routine space to collectively hold all the joys and sorrows of life. To aid in mending themselves through intricate mystical, magical, communal, and frequently somatic practices. In these and so many other unquantifiable and uncontainable ways, rituals and ceremonies have the power to bind us intimately together and give meaning to the messy beauty of being human.

Authoritarian regimes, also over millennia, have well understood this power. If they break people’s connection to ritual, to spirituality, they sever people’s connection to life itself. So whether through dispossession, assimilation, or extermination, those who would rule over others have erased everything from the time of lunar-solar calendars to the hallowed spaces of dreamy rituals and ceremonies, disciplining people to their deadly social orders, which for the past 500+ years, have been structured by white, heteropatriarchal Christian hegemony.

Against this backdrop, and in these dispiriting times, many of us rebels are embracing the vast difference between the brutal hierarchy of organized religions — as captured in “no gods, no masters” — and our (re)assertions of “no spiritual surrender,” to borrow from Klee Benally, of blessed memory. Whether we’re godless (like me) or god(s)-full anarchists, we recognize that there is and can be no separating “ritual as resistance” from “resistance as ritual,” at least as long as genocidal and ecocidal forces are stripping all life of any inherent worth, of any sense of sacredness. So we’re stealing back what is ours.

This zine is a sampler of some of the modest ways that anarchistic people from varied traditions are doing just that, and gestures toward “bigger” ones. It’s impossible to understand Standing Rock, Stop Cop City, or Palestinian solidarity encampments, say, without acknowledging the key role of rebellious spiritualities. For one example, see the film Yintah.

My hope is that this humble zine inspires you to imaginatively blur the line between ritual and resistance, until the death machine sputters and stalls, and all that then moves freely is life. For it is us, side by side, that can make all sacred against the profane of this world. Because our love knows no borders.

Rhinestones still sparkle under red umbrellas hoisted around the globe even as tears fall when the list of names is read on December 17: International Day to End Violence against Sex Workers, started in 2003 in San Francisco by a small group of sex workers. I first attended these vigils as a fledging sex worker seeking community; they helped shape me as an activist. Later, I assisted in researching the often gruesome deaths of my peers as we compiled the annual list. The honor of performing this work was the only compensation that I received, and now in middle age as a retired whore, I feel a sense of duty to ensure that these gatherings continue until the day there are no names to be read.

No two D17 vigils are alike. Each is defined by its community and culture. Yet in addition to red umbrellas, the international symbol of sex worker rights, they all function as a call to action to refuse the stigma and criminalization of our lives while demanding justice for sex workers as sex workers. The list is a central feature of every D17 vigil too, even when the name of the deceased is “anonymous.” The most derogatory terms for sex workers in the local language of each D17 gathering are openly reclaimed as an act of resistance by an unapologetically grieving crowd clad in fishnets, lingerie, harnesses, and high heels, all refusing to accept “dead hookers” as a punch line or expected outcome of the hustle. We ask you to mourn and fight with us.

—Maggie Mayhem

As my ancestors had once hidden cloves of garlic in their pockets for protection, I plant garlic every October in so-called Fort Collins, Colorado. My cousin aided me last fall because I procrastinated, buried in the grief of my mom’s illness. She helped me to mix compost into the soil. We broke the cloves apart, with the smell of garlic lingering on our fingers. This ritual helped my sorrow move through me. Plants have always been our ritual. We dug up plants around our ancestral home before it was to be demolished. We mourned, taking plants to our new homes, tucking them into the earth. Bringing something we love with us as we watch the world crumble. A little seed of solace for a people of the diaspora.

—Dana G.

In honor of Trans Day of Remembrance, the Drkmttr Collective of Nashville hosted a session on building rituals in memory of transgender people, recognizing that the media and families of origin often disrespect our dead through violent misgendering, misnaming, and misremembering. It also offered us an opening to make meaning as well as build an alternative for remembering and honoring in general: a protocol for communally creating rituals to mark time, celebrate life, or indicate transition.

Gather a group of three or more. Reflect on important rituals in your life. What traditions have impacted you? What place do rituals play in your life and that of your ancestors? Have each person choose one or more of the following to contribute to the ritual:

A novel or significant place | An item from nature | A human-made item | A specific color | Something to wear | Something to reflect on | Something to say, sing, recite, hum, whistle, or chant | Something to write | Something to make music with | Something to write with and something to write on | An item to use in an unintended way | A physical movement | Something to eat or drink | Something to hold close

Make sure everyone’s ideas are incorporated. Decide when and how often your ritual will take place. Practice your ritual. Lend it to others. Or keep it to yourselves.

—Shawn Reilly

In the early weeks of healing and recovering from Hurricane Helene, some of us began a book club to talk about those shared experiences of community that felt powerful, potent, and life-changing to us during that disaster. The reading group was—and continues to be—open to anyone, and all types of people show up. There are regulars, and those who only come once or twice, yet typically about twenty-five people circle up in the public space of Firestorm, a queer, feminist, and anarchist bookstore in Asheville, North Carolina. The book club is still meeting over eight months later. We’ve gathered in the midst of rising fascism, continued genocide, local wildfires due to governmental neglect, and deep personal loss. We are still here.

Each time we come together, we engage in what’s become our own ritual in the wake of mass devastation. We put our feet on the ground and close our eyes. With N-95 masks on and each at our own pace, in the centering of a single moment, we take three deep breaths. When we have each finished and feel ready to face the group again from the interiority of our own space, we raise a hand and look into the faces of our comrades.

Many of us lost community in the days of Helene, some of us found it, and all of us lost things unforeseen in the months following. But each time we meet, we take those breaths and look into each others’ faces. We know that we are here, we survived, and we are still in the absolute terror and undeniable gift of life.

—Lauren Miller

Together, every single day, you and I refuse mass disablement and death. We turn our backs on the genocidal call to return to normal. My anarcho-sicko bodymind reaches across time and space to grasp yours. An invitation toward something different. A ritual of care against complicity. When public health has marked us as the vulnerable to fall by the wayside, we collectively refuse to sacrifice ourselves and each other. You don your N95, I take a molecular test, you organize with your local mask bloc, I share my recent exposures, you facilitate a grief circle, I advocate for a community event to require masks. Together, we nurture this sacred sanctuary, rooted in disabled4disabled love.

—Krystal K

Often I feel like we associate the word “ritual” with notions of repeated, consistent, intentional practice, with the purpose of providing a grounding force within one’s life and community. As someone with raging ADHD, while I strive for such a practice, my physical reality is much more disjointed and impulsive. So I want to create space for ritual as whatever we can make it; ritual as interruption and interruption as ritual. When we break from our routines in ways that revitalize ourselves. When we stop to smell the flowers, dance for five minutes between meetings, call in sick from our tedious jobs to tend to our wild hearts, or allow ourselves to get swept away in adventure bliss, desire, grief, rage, or despair.

—Ducky Joseph

[Ribosome]

https://www.resetera.com/threads/kamala-harris-openly-delves-into-transphobia-in-her-book.1303512/page-6#post-145447341

 User Banned (1 Week): Metacommentary; Account in Junior Phase

this thread is full of people laundering transphobic talking points which are known to be invented by the right wing propaganda machine.

"NaudiRajah" in particular has stood out as someone dedicated in accepting transphobia at its face as a normal starting point: using "trans" as a a noun in at least two comments, talking about "trans people should be allowed to play sports only if they're FULLY transitioned" (which has always been a slippery slope goalpost as proven by Lia Thomas), and repeatedly raising the bogeyman of "fairness in sports because muh children."

it's literally all textbook normalisation of transphobia as envisioned and very successfully implemented by the nazis.

Only because of reposting this due to the ban did I actually read this post close enough to notice this.    

this forum is so fkn lib, patting itself on its back for being pRoGrEsSiVe but then tolerating shit like what's happening in this thread.

Minorities are leaving in droves yet the Vichy moderation won't purge the liberals.

[Propagandhim]

https://www.resetera.com/threads/resistance-to-us-fascism-actions-resources-and-ways-to-organize.1098285/

I was about to say...what's with the German? 

[Hap Shaughnessy]

https://www.resetera.com/threads/trump-to-send-troops-to-portland-or.1310499/page-5#post-145763830

I was going to post this in the Resistance to US fascism thread but I can't so it's going here and you're all going to like it.

[Taco Bell Tower]

[Propagandhim]

https://www.resetera.com/threads/resistance-to-us-fascism-actions-resources-and-ways-to-organize.1098285/

Some really good pieces all written by Cindy Milstein, a Brooklyn based Anarchist. They're pretty much all lists of stories of various forms of resistance which serve as inspiration or specific actions you can take to help yourself and others:

We make our own sacred spaces — spaces on no maps — through repeated rituals of resistance whose meanings stretch beyond borders. Because our “grief knows no borders.”

Last year, I saw those four words in an Instagram post. They were painted on a banner carried by Jews outside the US Embassy in Jerusalem during a solidarity demo to collectively mourn Palestinians who, mere miles away, had been murdered by the Israeli Occupation Forces in Gaza — in a genocide that continues unabated. Soon after, across oceans and seas, on the one-year anniversary of forest defender Tortuguita’s murder by Georgia State Police in so-called Atlanta, some of us borrowed those same words for a banner at a “ritual of remembrance” (see number 12 below). The banner later became the basis for altars during Palestinian solidarity gatherings, and later still, at a university encampment.

Our rituals and ceremonies bring us into otherworldly realms, beyond the imposed time-space of colonialism and capitalism, states and fascism. For millennia, people have relied on rituals and ceremonies to interweave themselves fully into ecosystems with their seasons and cycles, including in nonlinear ways. To continually tell and reinterpret their own stories, drawing out lessons and ethics within them to make sense of shifting contexts or new dilemmas. To share and pass on memories, whether the wisdom of ancestors, spirits, nonhuman kin, gods or ghosts, or their own cultures and lifeways. To make routine space to collectively hold all the joys and sorrows of life. To aid in mending themselves through intricate mystical, magical, communal, and frequently somatic practices. In these and so many other unquantifiable and uncontainable ways, rituals and ceremonies have the power to bind us intimately together and give meaning to the messy beauty of being human.

Authoritarian regimes, also over millennia, have well understood this power. If they break people’s connection to ritual, to spirituality, they sever people’s connection to life itself. So whether through dispossession, assimilation, or extermination, those who would rule over others have erased everything from the time of lunar-solar calendars to the hallowed spaces of dreamy rituals and ceremonies, disciplining people to their deadly social orders, which for the past 500+ years, have been structured by white, heteropatriarchal Christian hegemony.

Against this backdrop, and in these dispiriting times, many of us rebels are embracing the vast difference between the brutal hierarchy of organized religions — as captured in “no gods, no masters” — and our (re)assertions of “no spiritual surrender,” to borrow from Klee Benally, of blessed memory. Whether we’re godless (like me) or god(s)-full anarchists, we recognize that there is and can be no separating “ritual as resistance” from “resistance as ritual,” at least as long as genocidal and ecocidal forces are stripping all life of any inherent worth, of any sense of sacredness. So we’re stealing back what is ours.

This zine is a sampler of some of the modest ways that anarchistic people from varied traditions are doing just that, and gestures toward “bigger” ones. It’s impossible to understand Standing Rock, Stop Cop City, or Palestinian solidarity encampments, say, without acknowledging the key role of rebellious spiritualities. For one example, see the film Yintah.

My hope is that this humble zine inspires you to imaginatively blur the line between ritual and resistance, until the death machine sputters and stalls, and all that then moves freely is life. For it is us, side by side, that can make all sacred against the profane of this world. Because our love knows no borders.

Rhinestones still sparkle under red umbrellas hoisted around the globe even as tears fall when the list of names is read on December 17: International Day to End Violence against Sex Workers, started in 2003 in San Francisco by a small group of sex workers. I first attended these vigils as a fledging sex worker seeking community; they helped shape me as an activist. Later, I assisted in researching the often gruesome deaths of my peers as we compiled the annual list. The honor of performing this work was the only compensation that I received, and now in middle age as a retired whore, I feel a sense of duty to ensure that these gatherings continue until the day there are no names to be read.

No two D17 vigils are alike. Each is defined by its community and culture. Yet in addition to red umbrellas, the international symbol of sex worker rights, they all function as a call to action to refuse the stigma and criminalization of our lives while demanding justice for sex workers as sex workers. The list is a central feature of every D17 vigil too, even when the name of the deceased is “anonymous.” The most derogatory terms for sex workers in the local language of each D17 gathering are openly reclaimed as an act of resistance by an unapologetically grieving crowd clad in fishnets, lingerie, harnesses, and high heels, all refusing to accept “dead hookers” as a punch line or expected outcome of the hustle. We ask you to mourn and fight with us.

—Maggie Mayhem

As my ancestors had once hidden cloves of garlic in their pockets for protection, I plant garlic every October in so-called Fort Collins, Colorado. My cousin aided me last fall because I procrastinated, buried in the grief of my mom’s illness. She helped me to mix compost into the soil. We broke the cloves apart, with the smell of garlic lingering on our fingers. This ritual helped my sorrow move through me. Plants have always been our ritual. We dug up plants around our ancestral home before it was to be demolished. We mourned, taking plants to our new homes, tucking them into the earth. Bringing something we love with us as we watch the world crumble. A little seed of solace for a people of the diaspora.

—Dana G.

In honor of Trans Day of Remembrance, the Drkmttr Collective of Nashville hosted a session on building rituals in memory of transgender people, recognizing that the media and families of origin often disrespect our dead through violent misgendering, misnaming, and misremembering. It also offered us an opening to make meaning as well as build an alternative for remembering and honoring in general: a protocol for communally creating rituals to mark time, celebrate life, or indicate transition.

Gather a group of three or more. Reflect on important rituals in your life. What traditions have impacted you? What place do rituals play in your life and that of your ancestors? Have each person choose one or more of the following to contribute to the ritual:

A novel or significant place | An item from nature | A human-made item | A specific color | Something to wear | Something to reflect on | Something to say, sing, recite, hum, whistle, or chant | Something to write | Something to make music with | Something to write with and something to write on | An item to use in an unintended way | A physical movement | Something to eat or drink | Something to hold close

Make sure everyone’s ideas are incorporated. Decide when and how often your ritual will take place. Practice your ritual. Lend it to others. Or keep it to yourselves.

—Shawn Reilly

In the early weeks of healing and recovering from Hurricane Helene, some of us began a book club to talk about those shared experiences of community that felt powerful, potent, and life-changing to us during that disaster. The reading group was—and continues to be—open to anyone, and all types of people show up. There are regulars, and those who only come once or twice, yet typically about twenty-five people circle up in the public space of Firestorm, a queer, feminist, and anarchist bookstore in Asheville, North Carolina. The book club is still meeting over eight months later. We’ve gathered in the midst of rising fascism, continued genocide, local wildfires due to governmental neglect, and deep personal loss. We are still here.

Each time we come together, we engage in what’s become our own ritual in the wake of mass devastation. We put our feet on the ground and close our eyes. With N-95 masks on and each at our own pace, in the centering of a single moment, we take three deep breaths. When we have each finished and feel ready to face the group again from the interiority of our own space, we raise a hand and look into the faces of our comrades.

Many of us lost community in the days of Helene, some of us found it, and all of us lost things unforeseen in the months following. But each time we meet, we take those breaths and look into each others’ faces. We know that we are here, we survived, and we are still in the absolute terror and undeniable gift of life.

—Lauren Miller

Together, every single day, you and I refuse mass disablement and death. We turn our backs on the genocidal call to return to normal. My anarcho-sicko bodymind reaches across time and space to grasp yours. An invitation toward something different. A ritual of care against complicity. When public health has marked us as the vulnerable to fall by the wayside, we collectively refuse to sacrifice ourselves and each other. You don your N95, I take a molecular test, you organize with your local mask bloc, I share my recent exposures, you facilitate a grief circle, I advocate for a community event to require masks. Together, we nurture this sacred sanctuary, rooted in disabled4disabled love.

—Krystal K

Often I feel like we associate the word “ritual” with notions of repeated, consistent, intentional practice, with the purpose of providing a grounding force within one’s life and community. As someone with raging ADHD, while I strive for such a practice, my physical reality is much more disjointed and impulsive. So I want to create space for ritual as whatever we can make it; ritual as interruption and interruption as ritual. When we break from our routines in ways that revitalize ourselves. When we stop to smell the flowers, dance for five minutes between meetings, call in sick from our tedious jobs to tend to our wild hearts, or allow ourselves to get swept away in adventure bliss, desire, grief, rage, or despair.

—Ducky Joseph

  My anarcho-sicko bodymind... 

Stealing this and will likely repeat it a couple to several times in my posts here at The Bire.

[Propagandhim]

https://www.resetera.com/threads/trump%E2%80%99s-national-security-presidential-memorandum-7-labels-common-beliefs-as-terrorism-%E2%80%9Cindicators%E2%80%9D.1310727/page-3#post-145757731

bro I will vote for a damp towel over a fuckin Republican

Biden isn't going to run again.

What if he receives some rejuvenation elixir that revitalizes his anarcho-sicko bodymind?  then what, chud?

[benji]

My anarcho-sicko bodymind...

Stealing this and will likely repeat it a couple to several times in my posts here at The Bire.

Of course you'd do digital disabledface.

[Boredfrom]

https://www.resetera.com/threads/resistance-to-us-fascism-actions-resources-and-ways-to-organize.1098285/

Some really good pieces all written by Cindy Milstein, a Brooklyn based Anarchist. They're pretty much all lists of stories of various forms of resistance which serve as inspiration or specific actions you can take to help yourself and others:

We make our own sacred spaces — spaces on no maps — through repeated rituals of resistance whose meanings stretch beyond borders. Because our “grief knows no borders.”

Last year, I saw those four words in an Instagram post. They were painted on a banner carried by Jews outside the US Embassy in Jerusalem during a solidarity demo to collectively mourn Palestinians who, mere miles away, had been murdered by the Israeli Occupation Forces in Gaza — in a genocide that continues unabated. Soon after, across oceans and seas, on the one-year anniversary of forest defender Tortuguita’s murder by Georgia State Police in so-called Atlanta, some of us borrowed those same words for a banner at a “ritual of remembrance” (see number 12 below). The banner later became the basis for altars during Palestinian solidarity gatherings, and later still, at a university encampment.

Our rituals and ceremonies bring us into otherworldly realms, beyond the imposed time-space of colonialism and capitalism, states and fascism. For millennia, people have relied on rituals and ceremonies to interweave themselves fully into ecosystems with their seasons and cycles, including in nonlinear ways. To continually tell and reinterpret their own stories, drawing out lessons and ethics within them to make sense of shifting contexts or new dilemmas. To share and pass on memories, whether the wisdom of ancestors, spirits, nonhuman kin, gods or ghosts, or their own cultures and lifeways. To make routine space to collectively hold all the joys and sorrows of life. To aid in mending themselves through intricate mystical, magical, communal, and frequently somatic practices. In these and so many other unquantifiable and uncontainable ways, rituals and ceremonies have the power to bind us intimately together and give meaning to the messy beauty of being human.

Authoritarian regimes, also over millennia, have well understood this power. If they break people’s connection to ritual, to spirituality, they sever people’s connection to life itself. So whether through dispossession, assimilation, or extermination, those who would rule over others have erased everything from the time of lunar-solar calendars to the hallowed spaces of dreamy rituals and ceremonies, disciplining people to their deadly social orders, which for the past 500+ years, have been structured by white, heteropatriarchal Christian hegemony.

Against this backdrop, and in these dispiriting times, many of us rebels are embracing the vast difference between the brutal hierarchy of organized religions — as captured in “no gods, no masters” — and our (re)assertions of “no spiritual surrender,” to borrow from Klee Benally, of blessed memory. Whether we’re godless (like me) or god(s)-full anarchists, we recognize that there is and can be no separating “ritual as resistance” from “resistance as ritual,” at least as long as genocidal and ecocidal forces are stripping all life of any inherent worth, of any sense of sacredness. So we’re stealing back what is ours.

This zine is a sampler of some of the modest ways that anarchistic people from varied traditions are doing just that, and gestures toward “bigger” ones. It’s impossible to understand Standing Rock, Stop Cop City, or Palestinian solidarity encampments, say, without acknowledging the key role of rebellious spiritualities. For one example, see the film Yintah.

My hope is that this humble zine inspires you to imaginatively blur the line between ritual and resistance, until the death machine sputters and stalls, and all that then moves freely is life. For it is us, side by side, that can make all sacred against the profane of this world. Because our love knows no borders.

Rhinestones still sparkle under red umbrellas hoisted around the globe even as tears fall when the list of names is read on December 17: International Day to End Violence against Sex Workers, started in 2003 in San Francisco by a small group of sex workers. I first attended these vigils as a fledging sex worker seeking community; they helped shape me as an activist. Later, I assisted in researching the often gruesome deaths of my peers as we compiled the annual list. The honor of performing this work was the only compensation that I received, and now in middle age as a retired whore, I feel a sense of duty to ensure that these gatherings continue until the day there are no names to be read.

No two D17 vigils are alike. Each is defined by its community and culture. Yet in addition to red umbrellas, the international symbol of sex worker rights, they all function as a call to action to refuse the stigma and criminalization of our lives while demanding justice for sex workers as sex workers. The list is a central feature of every D17 vigil too, even when the name of the deceased is “anonymous.” The most derogatory terms for sex workers in the local language of each D17 gathering are openly reclaimed as an act of resistance by an unapologetically grieving crowd clad in fishnets, lingerie, harnesses, and high heels, all refusing to accept “dead hookers” as a punch line or expected outcome of the hustle. We ask you to mourn and fight with us.

—Maggie Mayhem

As my ancestors had once hidden cloves of garlic in their pockets for protection, I plant garlic every October in so-called Fort Collins, Colorado. My cousin aided me last fall because I procrastinated, buried in the grief of my mom’s illness. She helped me to mix compost into the soil. We broke the cloves apart, with the smell of garlic lingering on our fingers. This ritual helped my sorrow move through me. Plants have always been our ritual. We dug up plants around our ancestral home before it was to be demolished. We mourned, taking plants to our new homes, tucking them into the earth. Bringing something we love with us as we watch the world crumble. A little seed of solace for a people of the diaspora.

—Dana G.

In honor of Trans Day of Remembrance, the Drkmttr Collective of Nashville hosted a session on building rituals in memory of transgender people, recognizing that the media and families of origin often disrespect our dead through violent misgendering, misnaming, and misremembering. It also offered us an opening to make meaning as well as build an alternative for remembering and honoring in general: a protocol for communally creating rituals to mark time, celebrate life, or indicate transition.

Gather a group of three or more. Reflect on important rituals in your life. What traditions have impacted you? What place do rituals play in your life and that of your ancestors? Have each person choose one or more of the following to contribute to the ritual:

A novel or significant place | An item from nature | A human-made item | A specific color | Something to wear | Something to reflect on | Something to say, sing, recite, hum, whistle, or chant | Something to write | Something to make music with | Something to write with and something to write on | An item to use in an unintended way | A physical movement | Something to eat or drink | Something to hold close

Make sure everyone’s ideas are incorporated. Decide when and how often your ritual will take place. Practice your ritual. Lend it to others. Or keep it to yourselves.

—Shawn Reilly

In the early weeks of healing and recovering from Hurricane Helene, some of us began a book club to talk about those shared experiences of community that felt powerful, potent, and life-changing to us during that disaster. The reading group was—and continues to be—open to anyone, and all types of people show up. There are regulars, and those who only come once or twice, yet typically about twenty-five people circle up in the public space of Firestorm, a queer, feminist, and anarchist bookstore in Asheville, North Carolina. The book club is still meeting over eight months later. We’ve gathered in the midst of rising fascism, continued genocide, local wildfires due to governmental neglect, and deep personal loss. We are still here.

Each time we come together, we engage in what’s become our own ritual in the wake of mass devastation. We put our feet on the ground and close our eyes. With N-95 masks on and each at our own pace, in the centering of a single moment, we take three deep breaths. When we have each finished and feel ready to face the group again from the interiority of our own space, we raise a hand and look into the faces of our comrades.

Many of us lost community in the days of Helene, some of us found it, and all of us lost things unforeseen in the months following. But each time we meet, we take those breaths and look into each others’ faces. We know that we are here, we survived, and we are still in the absolute terror and undeniable gift of life.

—Lauren Miller

Together, every single day, you and I refuse mass disablement and death. We turn our backs on the genocidal call to return to normal. My anarcho-sicko bodymind reaches across time and space to grasp yours. An invitation toward something different. A ritual of care against complicity. When public health has marked us as the vulnerable to fall by the wayside, we collectively refuse to sacrifice ourselves and each other. You don your N95, I take a molecular test, you organize with your local mask bloc, I share my recent exposures, you facilitate a grief circle, I advocate for a community event to require masks. Together, we nurture this sacred sanctuary, rooted in disabled4disabled love.

—Krystal K

Often I feel like we associate the word “ritual” with notions of repeated, consistent, intentional practice, with the purpose of providing a grounding force within one’s life and community. As someone with raging ADHD, while I strive for such a practice, my physical reality is much more disjointed and impulsive. So I want to create space for ritual as whatever we can make it; ritual as interruption and interruption as ritual. When we break from our routines in ways that revitalize ourselves. When we stop to smell the flowers, dance for five minutes between meetings, call in sick from our tedious jobs to tend to our wild hearts, or allow ourselves to get swept away in adventure bliss, desire, grief, rage, or despair.

—Ducky Joseph

Cindy pls… If that's your best, your best won't do 

[Taco Bell Tower]

https://www.resetera.com/threads/trump%E2%80%99s-national-security-presidential-memorandum-7-labels-common-beliefs-as-terrorism-%E2%80%9Cindicators%E2%80%9D.1310727/page-3#post-145757731

bro I will vote for a damp towel over a fuckin Republican

Biden isn't going to run again.

What if he receives some rejuvenation elixir that revitalizes his anarcho-sicko bodymind?  then what, chud?

My anarcho-sicko bodymind...

[benji]

From reading more on that website it's pretty clear that when they say "fascism" they mean "everyday life." I'm quite familiar with this type of "anarchist" and would argue that Era needs no help from them to practice the same form of "resistance" that will be as successful.

It's exactly the kind of "intellectual" group that leads people like Nepenthe to think talking to her neighbors is a form of anti-capitalist resistance. Even one of the anti-fascist "ritual" stories on there is about giving food to people damaged by a hurricane.

[Boredfrom]

Yeah this is directly stated in p25. Martial btw.

Thanks for the correction. I don't want to sound alarmist but it does seem like they will orchestrate a Gorman massacre style event.

I don’t want to sound like an alarmist but…

[Hap Shaughnessy]

https://www.resetera.com/threads/resistance-to-us-fascism-actions-resources-and-ways-to-organize.1098285/#post-135234369

Socialist Rifle Association

Yup, that was on the wiki posted as well. Again, if more posts call for resources on militia formation (for defense of course), and it doesn't break ToS I'll give it it's own section in the OP

https://www.resetera.com/threads/resistance-to-us-fascism-actions-resources-and-ways-to-organize.1098285/#post-135237507

Maybe we shouldn't do that...

[Snoopy]

Still feel good about banning all the folk who actually knew about politics Dubs?

It seems unlikely, but it is wild to think that the government could shut down and strand some generals/admirals at this meeting location and not able to get back to their units.

Because this is what passes as insight on your forum now.


https://www.resetera.com/threads/hegseth-has-called-a-very-short-notice-meeting-for-next-thursday-in-virginia-to-have-hundreds-of-generals-and-admirals.1308726/page-4#post-145758631

[HaughtyFrank]

Yeah this is directly stated in p25. Martial btw.

Thanks for the correction. I don't want to sound alarmist but it does seem like they will orchestrate a Gorman massacre style event.

I don’t want to sound like an alarmist but…

For people who don't know, he's referencing Star Wars Andor, here 

[D3RANG3D]

[benji]

Yeah this is directly stated in p25. Martial btw.

Then he should be able to post it.  

It seems unlikely, but it is wild to think that the government could shut down and strand some generals/admirals at this meeting location and not able to get back to their units.

https://www.resetera.com/threads/hegseth-has-called-a-very-short-notice-meeting-for-next-thursday-in-virginia-to-have-hundreds-of-generals-and-admirals.1308726/page-4#post-145758631

I seriously need to know how some of them come up with stuff like this.

https://www.resetera.com/threads/resistance-to-us-fascism-actions-resources-and-ways-to-organize.1098285/#post-135234369

Socialist Rifle Association

Yup, that was on the wiki posted as well. Again, if more posts call for resources on militia formation (for defense of course), and it doesn't break ToS I'll give it it's own section in the OP

https://www.resetera.com/threads/resistance-to-us-fascism-actions-resources-and-ways-to-organize.1098285/#post-135237507

Maybe we shouldn't do that...

GUIDE TO MILITIA FORMATION (FOR DEFENSE ONLY)
1. Find some dudes nearby who have guns and/or other arms.
2. Agree to show up if bad guys come around.
3. Drill from time to time in a way that won't help at all if a military shows up.
(Optional) 4. Drink alcohol.

[Jansen]

I thought John Cena was a piece of shit already. why are they going in on him about a show that they shouldn't be watching 

[Hap Shaughnessy]

https://www.resetera.com/threads/whats-a-work-of-fiction-you-like-but-you-hate-the-person-or-people-behind-it.1311004/#post-145766986

She Who Shall Not Be Named

[Boredfrom]

Nepenthe decided to go with the flow:

The first four FNAF games. I think they're pretty solid bits of horror to various degrees.

But Scott's an asshole so I just stopped caring... And the games also got annoying.

[Uncle]

  My anarcho-sicko bodymind... 

Stealing this and will likely repeat it a couple to several times in my posts here at The Bire.

[Boredfrom]

https://www.resetera.com/threads/ygo-so-you-now-live-in-yugi-motous-deck-which-is-now-a-hotel-aka-one-of-the-most-wtf-echo-era-threads-tiramisu.1310920/#post-145761559

This has been, one of the most "WTF!?!?" thread made for ERA, have fun!!! Or not, I can't tell if you're having fun or not!!! Here is a Banoffee Muffin!

Try gauging it from number of replies, and ask your mom to lay off the tylenol

Told you, Discord pitty replies:

That's a nice hotel AND I get tiramisu? How can I leave?

I'd avoid the couples and families so they have their space but I'd hopefully befriend 406 because they seem fun (I'm not really into magical girl anime or manga though). I'm avoiding room 409 and its tenants like the plague.

I'll probably stay in 405 because he's respectable.

Room406, according to Echoes:

These two are a lesbian couple, Apple Magician being the more serious and tomboyish one of the two while Lemon is the more bubbly and quirky one. They love shipping, fan fiction, cosplay, fan debates, fan art and love watching anime (Magical girl anime and manga especially), video games (mostly Konami games), music and toys. Their fridge is filled near entirely of Apples, Lemons, Kiwis, Berries and Chocolate. They are best friends with Black Magician Girl and go out on trips.

[benji]

Nepenthe decided to go with the flow:

The first four FNAF games. I think they're pretty solid bits of horror to various degrees.

But Scott's an asshole so I just stopped caring... And the games also got annoying.

But on the plus side, he was able to use that money to have trans people and people of color murdered in camps.

[Uncle]

https://www.resetera.com/threads/resistance-to-us-fascism-actions-resources-and-ways-to-organize.1098285/#post-135234369

Socialist Rifle Association

Yup, that was on the wiki posted as well. Again, if more posts call for resources on militia formation (for defense of course), and it doesn't break ToS I'll give it it's own section in the OP

https://www.resetera.com/threads/resistance-to-us-fascism-actions-resources-and-ways-to-organize.1098285/#post-135237507

Maybe we shouldn't do that...

b-dubs and idubbbz: kinship in a weak, defeated "n-no..."

[Potato]

It's beyond hilarious to call this "filled with allusions and hints of Nazi symbolism." The depths of stupidity that forum gets into in order to pretend to be smart I will never understand.     

Yes, those famous Nazi dance moves involving gyrating hips...

[Potato]

https://www.resetera.com/threads/youtube-reinstating-creators-banned-for-covid-19-election-content.1305960/#post-145555746

 User Banned (2 Weeks): Homophobic Rhetoric

It must be annoying to have Trump's dick that deep down their throat.

So many implications here:

• Only men suck dick. 
  
• Only men work at YouTube/Google
  
• Trump is gay
  

[HaughtyFrank]

Thay might be the narrative one this one. Calling it religious terrorism.

https://www.resetera.com/threads/september-28-2025-shooting-at-a-mormon-church-in-michigan-church-set-on-fire-unknown-number-of-victims-shooter-down.1310884/post-145768213

Well yeah, that's usually the conclusion when a church gets shot up and burned down... 

Why are they suddenly so terrified of ascribing any motive ever to a mass shooter?