23, jewish, furry noise musician, agender, spoonie (arthrogryposis) living in Michigan. Check out my project (www.bandcamp.boxfortcollective.com) . They/Them pronouns please!
DRB is a faux feminist who uses their place in the punx community to sexually assault people. DRB has assaulted a good friend of mine who will remain anonymous.
DRB sexually assaults people then attempts to manipulate and gaslight them into staying quiet about it. Claiming transphobia and racisms due to the survivors calling them out.
Because DRB is such a popular person in the Punx community they have many friends and supporters to back them up.
If you see DRB stay away from them. They’re house is a venue for house shows. They call it “Church of the Three Cats.” Do not go to shows there and advise your friends and fellow punx against it!
Stay away from this faux feminist, manipulative person at all costs.
They are in chicago now, spread the word, make their shit known. Rapists have no place in such a wonderful community.
I haven’t posted on tumblr in a very long time, but I need to now to warn people in the DIY music scene and Anime con scene in Chicago and the midwest in general, this is my former friend and roommate who sexually assaulted a person that they invited to stay at our house, and had been sleeping on a mattress in the basement.
The day after it happened A came to my husband and I, and very emotionally told us that DR had been in and out of the basement moving boxes the night before and asked him if they could join him in bed, and A said yes, then fell back asleep. Later that night, A woke up to DR’s hands under his clothes touching his chest, and A said “Please don’t do that while I’m sleeping it makes me feel gross“ and DR stopped and offered to buy him cigarettes and alcohol, which A declined. Afterwards, for the purposes of having a physical copy of his account he wrote down what happened, and our friend and former roommate, Sage, still has the written account
After this happened, my husband confronted DRB, and asked for their side of the story. DR told him that A and them had kissed earlier in the week, and as such DR thought that they had implied consent. DR knows better.
January 10th of this year I found out that I was pregnant, and my husband and I began making plans to move out of Cot3C, because the conditions in that house were extremely unhealthy. The entire attic is filled with mold, no matter how many times we asked DR to clean the fridge, they would not, and would let food rot in it (and once stored a dead rabbit they found in the freezer), they would not clean their cats’ litter boxes, and their cats, who were infested with worms, would shit and pee on the floor and people’s belongings. Dr Girlfriend, one of their cats, was extremely ill and DR refused to take her to a vet. Dr Girlfriend and Henry were abandoned when they moved to Chicago, Dr Girlfriend died 4 days after they left.
In addition to poor maintenance of their home, 3 days after DR moved to Chicago the water was shut off at Cot3C, this came as quite a surprise for the people still living there, who had been consistently giving DR bill money, so they called the Board of Water and Light, and were told that bills had not been paid in full since January, with the only payment this year being $50 in April. My husband and I had also been paying bills in our time at Church, and all of the residents of Cot3C, including me while I was pregnant, were food insecure at the time that DR was pocketing our bill money,.
DR was also, according to the landlord, Tim, $3000 in debt as far as rent. We had consistently paid our rent, as well as the other tenants.
Early in my residency at Church, my husband, who at the time was only my roommate and friend, believed DR had been overcharging for bills, and insisted DR show us the physical bills, which took awhile and many threats to stop paying until they did show us the bills, to get. After they started showing us the bills, we payed significantly less a month, which is not proof that DR was stealing money from us, but seems very likely in light of recent events.
Daniel Ryan Balderas is a sexual predator, a thief, and a liar. They do not show any regard for their friends, their cats, or anyone, including themself. Do not trust them.
Oh yeah, their tumblr is imascientistofmusic and they’ve been spending the last few days harassing people, claiming my friend, Aiko, is supporting the murder of Palestinians because they took a birthright trip to Israel (free trip, mind you), and accusing one of their victims of lying, and posting private messages between them and said victim, who was a minor at the time of the messages and assault.
“We were grabbing a bite of lunch at a small cafe, in a mall, right across from a booth that sold jewelry and where ears could be pierced for a fee. A mother approaches with a little girl of six or seven years old. The little girl is clearly stating that she doesn’t want her ears pierced, that’s she’s afraid of how much it will hurt, that she doesn’t like earrings much in the first place. Her protests, her clear ‘no’ is simply not heard. The mother and two other women, who work the booth, begin chatting and trying to engage the little girl in picking out a pair of earrings. She has to wear a particular kind when the piercing is first done but she could pick out a fun pair for later. “I don’t want my ears pierced.” “I don’t want any earrings.” The three adults glance at each other conspiratorially and now the pressure really begins. She will look so nice, all the other girls she knows wear earrings, the pain isn’t bad. She, the child, sees what’s coming and starts crying. As the adults up the volume so does she, she’s crying and emitting a low wail at the same time. “I DON’T WANT MY EARS PIERCED.” Her mother leans down and speaks to her, quietly but strongly, the only words we could hear were ’… embarrassing me.’ We heard, then, two small screams, when the ears were pierced. Little children learn early and often that ‘no doesn’t mean no.’ Little children learn early that no one will stand with them, even the two old men looking horrified at the events from the cafeteria. Little girls learn early and often that their will is not their own. No means no, yeah, right. Most often, for kids and others without power, “no means force.””
This is important. It doesn’t just apply to little girls and other children, though it often begins there.
For the marginalized, our “no’s” are discounted as frivolous protests, rebelliousness, or anger issues, or we don’t know what we’re talking about, or we don’t understand what’s happening.
“Looting? I thought these were supposed to be nonviolent protests”
I know it’s incredible! People are literally coming out of the woodwork to comment on this photoset to focus on the looting headline with “well yes it is nice they were helping people hit with the tear gas, but stealing is still wrong uwu” as if they’re back to kindergarten morality.
Like everyone who’s gone to boot camp I’ve been tear gassed. They put about 50+ of you in a gas chamber and toss it in. You have to stay there until your rank is allowed to exit. Before that though, you have to say your name, rank, and social security number. You then exit and file into ranks (again) outside and are not allowed at any point to rinse your face or eyes for the entire day.
That right there? Easily the worst part of boot camp. My eyes were literally swollen shut. I was blinded for a good 30 minutes and my chest hurt for days.
I have zero problem and not and ounce of judgement for people raiding a mcdonalds that can easily afford to repair damage for ANYTHING to help ease the shittiness that is being tear gassed. Esp because every one of us in boot were medically sound to deal with tear gas. Children, asthmatics, people prone to panic and anxiety attacks, the elderly as sooo many more are NOT going to handle tear gas well at ALL.
Or that smoke the police use either.
It’s easy to sit there and judge someone from the safety of your home and say things like “it’s just tear gas” or “it can’t be that bad”.
Fuck you. As someone who HAS been gassed, you need to stfu.
I remember all the preparation they did to get us ready for the gas chamber in boot camp. We were taught how to handle ourselves, how to control our breathing, not to touch anything, how to avoid the worst of the gas. But it still didn’t matter. I remember taking in that first breath and feeling like I had just been kicked in the chest. I remember a few guys in my platoon falling down and vomiting. We knew the gas wasn’t as bad on the floor but we were the fifth platoon through and the vomit kept us from bending over more than absolutely necessary. I remember a few guys, guys in peak health training to be infantrymen, breaking ranks and running for the door only to be dragged back in kicking and screaming until they said name, rank and serial. They were expecting it, trained for it, bragging about how it wouldn’t bother them. I remember standing there with all of the mucus from my nasal cavity on the front of my ACUs and thinking to myself “This is the nonviolent option?” Covered head to toe and my skin still itching I looked down at the silver wedding band hanging next to my dog tags and realized that the gas had eaten little pits into its surface. I stood there and thought of all the news reports I had seen over the years. The uprisings and revolutionaries being gassed, the crowds running from men in masks. That’s the moment I got it, staring at my ruined wedding band, that’s the moment I realized terrorism isn’t about bombs or who is using them. It’s about controlling people through fear. It’s about removing their ability to act reasonably, to make them seem like the monsters. Terrorism is about triggering people to fight or flight then blaming them for not being rational. It’s about power. Remove someone’s power to act with reason, and you remove their humanity.
Oh fuck
My god this commentary is perfect. Also a reminder that it turned out this “looting” was not that at all, the police bust that window with a bullet and the staff were gracious enough to hand milk out it seems, the protestors did not break in but even if they did just look at what they were trying to do with that milk, look at what they went through. The immense endurance that’s been shown by the people of Ferguson in the face of all this is incredible.
That Spoonie Feel™ when you’re talking to a non-spoonie and you casually mention a major symptom you deal with every day as if it’s nothing. And they make The Face.
Me: “Yeah, I haven’t been able to feel my legs in three days. Anyway, how’s work?”
I know this is a fun tweet and all that but it absolutely is an instance of striaght privilege. Heterosexual people have up to seven years to explore their sexual and romantic attraction in an environment that is designed for them while many queer youth deligate their time in maneuvering their identity in response to themselves and their environment. It’s one of the reasons why dating as a queer adult is so hard: so many of us are romantically undersocialized when compared to our heterosexual peers, who are not only given social liscence to explore themselves, but who have the additional benefit of being able to see themselves in media.
There will always be exceptions to this, of course, but it’s so sad to see how the effects of childhood homophobia haunt us well into our adult years, to the point where it limits our opportunity to connect with other people around us.
Truuuuue. The only dating opportunities i had in high school were online. As a result i dated a lot of older people when i shouldnt have. It wasnt a great time
