Tumgik
#grievance studies
Text
Do we want the mixture of students who are going to be trained to do advanced medical research to be representative of the demographic make-up of the population as a whole— or do we want whatever students, from whatever background, who have track records demonstrating a mastery of medical science that gives them the highest probability of finding cures for cancer, Alzheimer’s and other devastating diseases? Endeavors have purposes. Is indulging ideological visions more important than ending cancer and Alzheimer’s?
Do you want airlines to have pilots chosen for demographic representation of various groups, or would you prefer to fly on planes whose pilots were chosen for their mastery of all the complex things that increase your chances of arriving safely at your destination? Once we recognize the many factors that can create different developed capabilities, “equal chances for all” becomes very different in its consequences from “equal opportunity.” And consequences matter— or should matter— more so than some attractive or fashionable theory.
More fundamentally, do we want a society in which some babies are born into the world as heirs of pre-packaged grievances against other babies born the same day— blighting both their lives— or do we want to at least leave them the option to work things out better in their lives than we have in ours? -- Thomas Sowell, "Social Justice Fallacies"
==
Make Merit Matter Again.
32 notes · View notes
alchemisoul · 11 months
Text
Well-to-do White Women | Cult Leaders of Creative Victimhood ane Nonsense Laundering
No one does creative victimhood like sheltered, spoiled, well-to-do, parents paid for, privately educated white women who grew up in the gated commutinies and coveted suburbs in coastal and/or metropolitan enclaves where the disparity between their haves and the have nots of the low-income communities of the inner city are most pronounced.
They're often among the loudest voices and least constructive of self-described allies in spite of typically being the least affiliated with the groups they speak on behalf of and thus the least qualified individuals to be lecturing anyone on privilege.
They only group well-to-do white women have any leg to stand on to scream from towards, if anyone, would be their wealthy white male peers. But they're really sneaky, and they've excelled in the way they have devised strategies to avoid their prilvedge by pointing elsewhere, typically at men often from far worse circumstances.
In the denial of their own prilvedge, securing their positions, and ensuring their own asses remain unscathed - this is the vacuum from where their creative victimhood emerges. They invent or adopt existing strategies of plights and grievances with proven track records in successfully disguising or deflecting their prilvedge.
Within that vacuum is a non-sense laundering feedback loop of horrible ideas that develop between the worst among them on twitter and those within the faculties in the fact free factory sections of major universities.
2 notes · View notes
omlekha · 2 years
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
[MOFATEOAGD C0 nausea]
0 notes
martyrbat · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media
detective comics #487
als hätte Stuttgart nicht genug Probleme gehabt 🙄
17 notes · View notes
flovverworks · 4 days
Text
been thinking on & off about akira..........gbf akira.......farming sim akira.......rf akira.........roleswap & isekaiswap akira............anything akira..........
2 notes · View notes
reanimatedgh0ul · 9 months
Text
the idea of danny coming to the conclusion that valerie would naturally get along well w his parents only to then see that she actually has more in common w jazz is kinda everything to me rn
7 notes · View notes
ghoul-haunted · 1 year
Text
Im going to be so annoyed for about a week about someone tagging my illustration of daniel with #christian things on the grounds of christianity didn't exist during the babylonian captivity
4 notes · View notes
regina-bithyniae · 2 years
Text
elite status, power, and privilege for me
Tumblr media
(...)
Tumblr media
context is that Devereaux's adjunct historian position is getting eliminated in the next academic year
I feel bad for him, and he was clearly a great professor if his blog is anything to go by. But the hypocrisy here is pretty stark, accusing the field of "progressivism for thee, but elite status, power and privilege for me" attitudes when that is exactly what he's after when he wants to cut the supply of future PhDs.
Which I'm not against for some fields, while others (STEM, history of actually important topics) should go way up. Bret actually has a relatively soft landing with his patreon generating ~$45,000 yearly thanks to him writing about a field that a substantial chunk of readers actually care about. It's worse for the hordes of historians of, eg. gender, which probably are driving the decline of history/classics/medieval studies/etc anyways. Universities should have to be more frank about the employability of most degrees (zero) but the history PhD is already infamous for its brutal job market, so this excuse doesn't apply.
3 notes · View notes
slinkythread · 2 years
Text
I hate being a law major bro I'll go into my homework as an anxious shaking mess and come out of it feeling extremely radicalized and political
2 notes · View notes
thearbourist · 5 months
Text
The Grievance Studies Affair - Why it's important.
“What do we hope will happen? Our recommendation begins by calling upon all major universities to begin a thorough review of these areas of study (gender studies, critical race theory, postcolonial theory, and other “theory”-based fields in the humanities and reaching into the social sciences, especially including sociology and anthropology), in order to separate knowledge-producing disciplines…
youtube
View On WordPress
0 notes
lilgynt · 5 months
Text
passed that promotion test with 100% and the tester took a note agent knows their job but isn’t very confident yeahhhhhhhhh
Tumblr media
0 notes
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
youtube
==
Now is the time for other institutions to clean house. Because this isn't going away with Claudine Gay. She was just the first head to roll. There are more coming.
13 notes · View notes
ncfcatalyst · 11 months
Text
Interim President Richard Corcoran meets with faculty for Q&A session
On Apr. 12, the New College faculty gathered for its monthly meeting, where professors discussed usual end-of-the-year agenda items and also tackled concerns surrounding their relationship with the new administration. The agenda included motions for endorsement of two statements: one from the New College faculty to the larger New College community in support of the Gender Studies Program, and the…
Tumblr media
View On WordPress
0 notes
icryyoumercy · 1 year
Text
i mean i am of the general opinion people should learn more about the world wars, not necessarily for the facts, but to realise that official, professional opinions, which agree on all the known facts, and which do not contradict observed reality in any known way, can still be mutually exclusive and deeply contradictory to other official, professional opinions, which fulfill those exact same requirements
0 notes
mooishbeam · 8 months
Text
『♡』 Losing Game
Tumblr media Tumblr media
♡ featuring: ajax x f!reader
♡ summary: simmering feelings boil over as you're confronted by the man you hate the most; tartaglia, your boss. wc: 3.1k+
♡ cw/tw: afab, degradation, humiliation, creampie, squirting, light choking, sadism, throat-fucking, cum play, fingering, overstimulation, brat taming, mind break, pet names (doll, baby)
notes: hiii, the positive response from the last one motivated me to get this done just in time for Fontaine. kinda long this time so sorry abt that. ajax my beloved <3 art by sonomi_rap5 on twitter comments and reblogs are appreciated!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Working for the fatui wasn’t easy in the slightest, especially when you aren’t on harbinger status. You were sent on long, grueling tasks only to be met with loose interpretations of gratitude and sometimes silence from the higher-ups, in which most wouldn’t even glance in your direction. Pleasant beginnings became a sour afterthought, and your perception of the fatui changed drastically. Your grievances, however, weren’t helped by your quick-witted snappy attitude and competitiveness; Presumably why you ended up under the division of Tartaglia. You assumed a binding contract from the capricious redhead wouldn’t mean much, but that was quickly proven false.  
You'd rather climb every mountain in Snezhnaya than spend a minute talking to that airhead. He was instructed to keep a watchful eye on you during missions despite the competence you demonstrated. It was insulting. Anything he did you could do better. It’d been proven multiple times from the petty challenges you created. How much water you could drink, how long you can stay up. You won every time. How could you not hate him? His feigned ignorance and careless flirtations were enough to drive you mad. “Please, call me Ajax” he’d say, winking. The simpering smile he gave you after every comeback shot daggers in your pride. What made you particularly furious was the incessant drum of your heart whenever he was near you. The warm autumn morning that was his hair. The cool still waves his eyes sent to your core. You couldn’t fall for him, or else he’d have one up on you. You had to be stronger than that. You quelled your stress in a tattered journal gifted years ago. 
“Hey, comrade!” His bubbly tone makes knots in your stomach, and you choose to stay silent. You’re hoping this mission will go without a hitch, as long as he doesn’t get in your way. Ajax lets out a teasing whistle. 
“Yeesh, tough crowd.” As you’re collecting the items needed for the deal, he rocks back and forth on his heels directly in front of you, absent-mindedly watching. 
You whip your head to face him, “You can’t see I’m doing something right now?” 
“Oh, I see what you’re doing. But this isn’t entertaining.” 
“Unlike you, your majesty, I have no choice but to be perfect. I apologize if that’s not exciting enough for you.” You retort with sarcastic curtsy.  
“Haha! You’re always a pleasure to be around, (Y/N). My faithful, kind-hearted companion.” he said with a taunting wink. You're beyond flustered, haphazardly stuffing the remains in your bag and lugging it over your shoulder. 
“Let's go.” You say lazily. He follows closely, arms crossed behind his head. “Calling me like a dog, how romantic.” 
“If you don’t want to be called like a dog stop acting like one.” 
“You could at least give me a treat if I'm gonna be your dog.” He looks at you, making his best impression of puppy-eyes. You bite back a few choice words, and glare at him instead. He isn’t fazed by this and flashes a beguiling smile that makes your ears warm. Glancing at the weight you’re shouldering, he comments, “You sure you don’t need any help with that?” 
“No. The last person I need help from is you.” 
Tumblr media
You and Ajax regroup in an alleyway deep in Fontaine’s bustling city. You are assigned to retrieve a rare gem for one of Pantalone’s elaborate schemes, and you quickly prepare yourself for this interaction. Ajax studies you, leaning against one of the walls. 
“Can’t you be a little nicer to your superior? If it wasn’t for me, you’d be in a lot of trouble half the time. You’re welcome.” You scoff. “I don’t know why you’re here in the first place, I have no problem doing this on my own.” 
“I’m sure. Don’t mind me, Ms. Independent.” A sly smirk crawled up his face. “Fucking asshole” you mumble under your breath. “I didn’t catch that. Can you repeat it?” 
“I said you’re a fucking asshole.” After a few moments of silence, Ajax grips his chest in feigned agony. “Ouch. I’m gutted!” 
Just as you're about to leave, he snatches your wrist, now only mere inches away from your face. His hand gently brushes away the strays of hair on your forehead. “There you go, doll. Gotta be perfect for your debut.” A whirlwind of emotions strangles your ability to think clearly, you pull your wrist away and start speed walking, attempting to gather yourself before you get to the jewelry store. 
You enter the empty store and are immediately confronted by the jeweler. 
“Good afternoon, ma’am. Do you have an appointment?” You proclaim your business and appointment under a fake identity, posturing yourself as wealthy. “May I see identification please.” Of course, you say. As you’re looking through your purse you notice something: there’s no identification here. Surely you weren’t that negligent over something so simple. You rummaged through the other compartments, trying to stay calm in front of an increasingly concerned jeweler. But it’s not there. How is this possible. Your nerves are heightened and the anxiety of failing the mission starts to creep in. “I made an appointment with Lottie; she’ll be able to provide reference. I believe I left my passport at home.” The jeweler seems slightly disappointed. “Unfortunately, ma’am, I am not allowed to present any gems without identification.” Your heart beats faster. “Well, sir, I’m very busy and I’m afraid this is my only chance to close on this item. You wouldn’t want to push away a well-paying customer.” 
“I have no choice in the matter. If you have no proof of identification, I must ask you to leave.” Should I take it by force? You thought, thinking about the next possible option. As you’re about to handle the rest physically, the door swings open. Ajax comes up to you, placing his arm around your waist.  
“My love, were you able to get the gem we were discussing?” You’re annoyed, but you improvise and look at him as if he’s the love of your life. “Not yet, dear.” Suddenly, he places a plush kiss on your lips. You’re stunned and speechless, filled with anger and wanting. 
The jeweler interjects. “And are you the husband? Would you happen to have any identification.” 
“Yes, sir.” Ajax pulls out a passport and fake birth certificate unbeknownst to you and begins to close the deal. The rest of the meeting you sit speechless. 
“Thank you for your patronage.” are the last words you hear as you leave the store, Ajax guiding you with his hand. You’re silent the whole way back to your room. 
Tumblr media
You turn your bag upside down and begin looking for the mismatched documents. All while Ajax stares at you expectingly. You ignore his presence.  
“So... how about a ‘you’re welcome?’” 
“For what.” 
He lets out a mocking laugh. “For what? I don’t know, maybe saving your ass back there? You froze, and you were unprepared, Ms. Independent.”  
“I wouldn’t have forgotten it if it wasn’t for the obnoxious bullshit you did this morning.” 
“That’s dishonest, I wasn’t even talking!” he pretends to be hurt. “Admit that you need me.” 
“Fuck off.” 
“No.” His light-hearted inflection vexes you and makes it hard for you to focus as you read through the mountains of pages in your folder. 
While your head is down, Ajax comes across the tattered notebook just peeking out from under the bed. Storing the months—no years—of feelings you had regarding the fatui. Regarding him. Some time passes and you finally raise your head, met with the horrifying reveal of him skimming through the journal, mischief coating the deep void in his eyes. You spring up and reach for the book but he’s faster, grabbing your arms and pinning them above your head. 
“This is really good stuff... really good.” You shout profanities over and over, anything to get his attention away from the book. But he continues to read as if you’re not there. When he’s done reading, he lets you go, and you instantly try to swing at him. Before you can land a hit, he grabs you by the throat and stares into your soul, almost as if he’s trying to swallow your being. 
“You’ve been acting like a little fucking brat all over a crush? Not very big girl of you.” 
“I know you think you’re beyond charming, but I promise you don’t have that effect on me.” 
“Really? Let’s play a game then.” He knew you’d accept just to beat him at anything. 
“If you don’t cum by the end of this journal, I’ll apologize for everything. I’ll do whatever you want. But if I win-” he steps closer to you, “You have to do everything I say.” 
You almost burst out laughing. Such an easy challenge, how hard could it be? 
Tumblr media
You're panting, trying your hardest to focus on the words that seemed to melt off the page. Your back lays comfortably against his chest, with his legs keeping yours spread. 
“Next page, baby.” 
“Don’t call me that.” Your words are lenient and breathy. Your underwear is still on, but Ajax’s fingers are covered in your slick, playing with the erect nub just enough to make you fuzzy. “You look like you’re tapping out.” 
“This? This is nothing” You respond meekly, continuing the reading.  
“I can’t help but have fe-elings for himph.”  
“There’s some nice things about me in here, why aren’t you always like this?” He says, circling and dipping into your gushy folds, smearing the glossy mess all over your vulva. You try so hard to read the letters, squirming from his touch. The sensation pulsing from your clit to your brain made you incoherent; the more you move, the more he moves. The contents of the journal are humiliating, detailing your romantic and sexual attraction towards Ajax, and your attempts to stifle these feelings. He was getting a kick out of seeing your flustered face stammer over his appearance. He plays with the precum glazing his fingers, widening them to watch the trail it left. Only two more pages left. 
“I-I-” You couldn’t get through the first sentence on the last page. Your thighs are trembling, and your pussy began to twitch. “Uh, s-shit. Ajax, wai-.” He trails his fingers over your clit spelling his name, then pushes two inside, fighting back an amused grin. “You’re almost done” Teasing in your ear. You bite back the moans threatening to escape; at the very least you couldn’t give him that satisfaction. He watches you fall apart, shaking more aggressively before your body gives in and you cum on his fingers.  
“Uh oh, that’s unfortunate.” You try your best to catch your breath, but he rides out your orgasm, making you subconsciously grind yourself into his palm. Then you’re struck with the reality of losing. He licks his fingers clean, eyes rolling back from the taste. “So fucking good, does being a bitch make you taste better?” You were too embarrassed from the loss to retort. “You won.” 
“I did.” He lifts you off the bed and onto the floor, your legs still recovering. He hikes your shirt up, trailing kisses up your stomach until he gets to your nipples. He flicks and sucks one while kneading the other one, occasionally biting the slightly bruising flesh. “Not gonna moan for me, huh baby?” 
“Not in the slightest.” You rasped. He smiles and blows cool air on your tits, sending a rippling feeling down your back. “That’s okay, you’ll give in.” 
Ajax unbuttons his pants, and they drop in front of you. Unsheathing his thick throbbing length, drooling with desire. His balls are full and heavy, and as you look up at him his eyes are clouded with lust. The pretty freckles that dotted his arms and chest are much more visible now, and so are his battle scars. He breathed in deep, "take care of this for me, yeah?” You wanted to say no and say fuck this; but there was another side that wanted him desperately, that needed this.  
You force your jaw open to accommodate his size and push yourself halfway on his girth, feeling his cockhead hit the back of your throat. Once you feel like you got it in, you slobber all over his cock, dampening his balls and begin to bob your head. You stroke with one hand and massage his sack with the other, leading to a breathy whimper from him. “Ah fuck, feels good. Suck it slow, slut.” You begin to move faster while cupping his balls, obscene noises leaving your sopping mouth. You have tears running down your sweating face trying to keep up with the vigorous movement of your tongue. You feel him throb a few times, his moans and grunting getting progressively louder.  
“Need more” is all he says, putting one of his legs on the bed and grabbing both sides of your head. Before you can register what’s happening. Ajax pushes your head onto his cock until your nose reaches his pubes. He lets out a breathy sigh and starts throat fucking you with an animalistic grip. The gagging and spit noises echo off the walls, along with his continuous whimpering. You wanted to hate him, but your blood was buzzing, and your panties were drenched. “Shut up and take it” followed by broken fuck’s and yes’s. He threw his head back, hair slicked and torso gleaming with sweat, “look at me.” You reluctantly look up, addicted to his passionate expression. “I want you looking at me when I cum.” You grip his thighs, and he twitches a few times before spurting white, thick cum down your throat. He pulls out slightly to drag his semen over your lips and then taps it on your face, holding you in place.  
“What are you doing? Clean me up.” he husked. You clean him up without complaint and lick your lips, forced to maintain eye contact with him the entire way.  
In one swoop, Ajax picks you up and throws you on the bed, eager to get your underwear off. “You proved your point, stop being an ass" you slurred out. The room was intoxicating, all you could smell and feel was him. He takes your panties off, spreading your pussy to watch the slippery puddle dribble down your thighs. He shoves your panties in your mouth, “Fucking liar, I know you like it. Can’t taste how wet you are?” He aligns himself with your aching hole, keeping your arch steady with you bent over. Shoving his cock in, moaning from the feeling of your body perfectly molding for him. Ajax starts moving at a rapid pace quickly, his big slender hands tightly gripping your ass. The sound of wet sticky skin slapping together and the squelching from your core made you shudder. It was all too much; you have been teetering on an orgasm since you went down on him, and the way his balls thump your clit make you quiver.  
“Whiny brat. Just needed to be fucked good to shut up, yeah?” he groaned through his words. Tears were coming down your eyes now, you can’t tell if he’s edging you by accident or on purpose. But right now, you’d do anything. He turns your head to face him, gazing at your tear-stricken face. “Aww, you cryin’ for me?” He stops to kiss and lick your tears, delighted by your tenderness. Taking the panties out your mouth, he brings your body flush with his and continues to pump inside with you looking at him.  
“So sweet all of a sudden, where’d that attitude go?” The morals you had for moaning went missing and mewls and soft whimpers began to leave you. “Let it out, baby.” You’re suddenly babbling please’s begging for him to let you have it. “Pathetic, can’t even get off on your own. You need me that bad?” You nod repeatedly, dangerously close to your release. He had a dark look in his eyes and a sinful smirk. “Yeah? Okay, you’ve been so good.” He reaches down and starts to rub your clit ceaselessly, kissing your cheek. Your whimpers become loud shaky moans and he finally lets you have it, shockwaves going through your body as you’re dissolved into pleasure. You pulsate through the explosion, jello-brain and boneless as your cum leaks down his thighs. Just as he pulls out and flips you over. You’re dizzy and drunk off him, legs shaking indefinitely from the intensity. Then he puts it back in. “You can take one more, yeah baby?” Your overstimulated and violent shaking wasn’t enough for him to stop. He wanted you ruined. He keeps going, grabbing your face to kiss you deeply, tongues intertwining with each other. He feeds you deep strokes, tip prodding your spot every time and watching as your tits bounce. You throw your head back, eyes rolling to the back of your skull. You have no thoughts, only his name rings in your head. You can feel the coil inside you winding up, pleasure beyond the searing pain of your swollen pussy. He looks down at you and smiles.  
“Look at me." You can’t hear anything at this point, not even the sound of your own voice. So, it’s a pleasant surprise when your voice carries his name, “Ajax, Ajax”, chanting as if he’s your god. “Fuck. Gonna cum. Let it out. baby” he says grinning. You’re clamping him so tight and throbbing until you ultimately shatter with him, releasing a stream of squirt onto him and the sheets. He bucks into you, letting out thick spurts, panting heavily as he watches you in disarray. You instinctively hold on to his arms, trembling uncontrollably as you try to search for breath and ride it out. You’re completely hysterical and sobbing from the emotion it ripped into you. You were in shambles and Ajax couldn’t help but smile out of happiness for what he caused. “I’m so sorry.” you say repeatedly, eyes shut and lined with tears. He got closer to wrap you in his arms, and you cling to him for stability. “It’s okay, I’m here for you.” 
You didn’t want to talk about it when you woke up. You were hoping he’d be gone, and therefore wouldn’t have to deal with the humiliation. But there he was, watching you sleep just as the sun rose. His ginger hair danced with golden flecks of light, and he looked at you like you were the only person on Teyvat. 
“Creep.” 
  “Good morning to you too, baby~.” 
3K notes · View notes
unbidden-yidden · 15 days
Text
I keep toying with writing this, because words are hard and I'm not sure how to fully articulate this thought.
However, it's something I've sensed very deeply and I think it's important to start trying to talk about.
Much has been said about how traumatic Oct. 7th was for Israelis and really Jews the world over, and lots has been said about why that was - from the fact that it happened on what was supposed to be a joyous holiday, the fact that this violence was as barbarous and sadistic as it was, the fact that it drew on deep historical wells of intergenerational trauma, to the fact that it was met with immediate denial, betrayal, and even celebration from supposedly progressive goyim - but something I have not seen much discussion on is how that ongoing denialism and even celebration of the carnage made sure that the trauma stuck.
See the thing is that one of the best predictors of favorable recovery outcomes from trauma is the support the victim receives, especially in the immediate aftermath. Victims with strong support networks, who are believed and whose grievances are taken seriously, recover much faster and much more holistically even from objectively worse traumas than victims who lack support and/or whose traumatic experiences are denied or dismissed. Seems obvious enough, right? That's why advocates for survivors exhort communities to listen to survivors and victims, and to hold space for them. We know what happens when that support is denied.
In some ways, the Jewish people is like a horrible case study in what happens when that denial of support happens - not just on a large scale, but over the course of time through numerous generations. In every generation they come for us, and every generation has the opportunity to step up. And so far, every generation has failed the task. (There are of course, some wonderful individuals who do step up; however they are the exception that proves the rule.)
The sadistic celebration of atrocities committed against Israelis and the denialism were not just unpleasant side concerns - these were active components of the violence.
The bottom line is this: if you deny the atrocities of Oct. 7th and the ongoing hostage crisis or try to excuse or downplay them, you are actively participating in violence against us.
And yes, of course these atrocities do not justify atrocities in return. Yes, of course confirming facts is important. But I think a big part of why we can't "just move on" to talk about other atrocities is because you people have never acknowledged our pain or let us grieve or be human. Not once. And the longer that goes on, the deeper the wound and the longer the road to healing from this trauma gets.
781 notes · View notes