thomas the tank engine is fascist

kek

But how?!

thomas * on my way to the death camps* the engine

Do they even know what fascism is?

Or do they just think it means "anyone who is too right-wing for my liking?"

lol it goes back to everything i dislike is hitler

BBQ is racist now too lol

Even back in 1948 Harry Truman said that Thomas Dewey represented fascism.

even tho BBQ is a blend of African natives German English and Spanish food culture

its the most civic nation food ever

I think they might have borrowed it from Indians in the Caribbean.

They also borrowed the hammock from them.

Maybe that's the next racist thing.

lol hammock are super /comfy/

when we starting the #hammockright ?

Right now.

#hammockright

Let's make it a thing.

Spread the word.

@Orwell & Goode are you in the #hammockright ?

A woman is writing an article about the size of her daughter's bowel movements.

wtf

lol in the future

not currently

but future poops

I need to repost the article that I wrote. One sec.

Been thinking about writing a series of these under an assumed name. Another one being "I'm a vegan, and I have ethical problems with killing the tapeworm in my stomach.

Satirical articles?

Are you familiar with the "Sandy Beaches" incident?

Apparently Pingu is also fascist.

sandy beaches?

#pinguright gas the puffins now

It was the nome de plume a male writer used to get several articles published in major feminist blogs. The most famous one being one where he/she ranted about how they needed to make Tifa's tits smaller in the ff7 remake

Here it comes.

Did you write the article yet?

This one is called "my two year old son has toxic masculinity"

Despite my partner and I giving him a kind a nurturing upbringing. Our two and a half year old child has turned into a toxic male. I considered my child <Jamie (possibly find a more gender neutral name)> one of the best things that ever happened to me. Always full of life, love, cuddles and kisses. Up until recently he's been a perfect child. Just wonderful. Just a few months ago though, things began to change. Now my son has become as toxic as a toddler can possibly be.

My partner and I have long been aware of the damage toxic masculinity has caused to the world since the agricultural revolution, and possibly much longer. So when we found out we were having a bio boy we agreed <Jamie> would be raised in a mindful and nurturing method to counteract that. We audited a couple courses each on child psychology, read even more than usual, and endlessly discussed our responses to typical and atypical childhood incidents.

Since the day of our child’s birth we strove to make sure he nurtured and emotionally validated. I can’t count the number of times the words “It’s okay to cry”, “It’s alright to be sad.” and numerous other variations on that sentiment escaped my lips.

His media consumption, toys, and even day care environment are strictly vetted. We opted for free open construction theming for most of his toys. That’s a fancy way of saying blocks, Duplo and the like. Media was pre screened with an eye for women in leadership positions, teamwork among diverse groups, nonviolent conflict resolution, and of course educational content. Our daycare providers have been several family friends who are similarly minded. People who parent mindfully, with an eye for instilling children with forward thinking values. We of course talked to them beforehand about our expectations and preapproved media selections. As a coincidental bonus, the several households <Jamie>’s had day care at all have only had bio girl children a year or two older.

As previously mentioned we do our best to assure <Jamie>’s every physical and emotional hurt is met with affirmation and validation. When our child falls, as toddlers are prone to do. My partner or I are at his side ready to validate his pain, or assure him there is nothing to be embarrassed about. He’s learning, and perfection is neither expected, nor required.

The result were very promising. Spectacular, even. <Jamie> was a brave, vivacious, and sensitive child. Always ready with a hello or hug for everyone he met. He loves the color pink, and is unashamed to play with dolls. He was marvelous.

The first warning flag was small. Easily ignored at the time, and alarming in retrospect. In hindsight a clear pattern of escalation from that point can be seen.

My partner works in education. A couple months back the state board of education put on a seminar about implicit racial bias in school discipline. In a shockingly relevant turn a major focus was on the disproportionate number of african descendant students given disciplinary action for loitering on school grounds. We attended as a family. Or rather my partner attended, while <Jamie> and I tagged along. During the all day meetings we hung out at a local park. <Jamie>’s most recent play obsession is a little game I like to call “Running in a circle for hours at a time.” it can be a bit exhausting for someone not gifted with the limitless energy of a toddler. So I sat on a nearby bench while <Jamie> ran.

In the course of this running <Jamie> tripped. Sprawling front first onto a sidewalk, and barely avoiding hitting his face on the cement. I prepared to rise into action when i heard a preemptive “I’m okay!” from my son as he rose from the ground.

I settled back down while <Jamie> resumed running. “Tough” was never a word my partner or I said in our child’s presence. Not because it was something we consciously decided on, it just never occurred to us or came up. At the time, “tough” didn’t even enter my mind. “Resilient”, a good quality for any person of any age did. That was only the first of numerous incidents that have led my partner and I to agree. Our son is toxic.

He loves to flip light switches, as a lot of kids do. He started racing my partner to reach them. He’s also started racing in front of the girls at his daycare. This was disturbing because while a child his age is not yet able to really grasp the concept of privilege we’ve been careful to train him that girls always need to go first. When he got to the state where he asks why this is we planned to tell him girls don’t get to go first very much. So it’s the nice thing to do.

Just last week he proudly proclaimed he was not a baby. My concern escalated into worry.

Things finally came to a head just this weekend. He was doing his standard running about and exploring during our weekend outings. We were in a hurry to leave the store we were in so I picked him up telling him we need to go. His curiosity had not been satisfied and he immediately started crying. I held him close and said “It’s okay to cry.” Apparently, this was triggering to him in some way. <Jamie> inhaled raggedly. His cherubic face, red from crying, tears still on cheeks curved into as close to a snarl as his tiny frame could muster. Little hands clenching into tiny fists. “I NOT CRYING!” He shouted.