Islamophobia

Halal? Is it me you’re cooking for?

There are 2 billion Muslims in the world, the majority of them observing halal practices such as the slaughter of animals for food or redistribution of wealth (for example). Halal means permissible, whether this refers to consumption of food products or platonic interactions between the sexes or a bank account that does not accumulate interest, these conditions protect the rights of all human beings to a fair and healthy life.

Muslims, like Jews, and even some Christian factions do not consume pork which is deemed haraam, a sin. Contrary to popular myth it is not because it is a dirty animal but because pork is a perishable meat and prone to parasites like trichinella. From a health perspective it made sense to avoid it 1500-2000 years ago in the middle east but in these times of modern refrigeration and advances in microbiology this argument falls short for those of us who trust in science. God gave us the guidelines, sure, but he also gave us a brain. However, halal does not only refer to the animals that are permitted but the way in which they are slaughtered. There is nothing inherently haraam about a chicken but it is not halal until it is drained of blood in a specific way, whilst the butcher also recites a prayer. Chicken that is prepared for human consumption using western methods is referred to as ‘makruh’, a ‘disliked’ or ‘offensive’ act but in my personal experience, it is not so offensive to some Muslims. In places where halal food is not readily available, makruh is acceptable. The consumption of meat is sunnah; a tradition or way of doing things as the prophet did. There are guidelines for halal marriage and a sunnah to observe, the wedding party should be fed a meal of at least one sheep. Meat consumption is central to a Muslim’s way of life (although there are further hadiths – kinda like the gospels – warning of the dangers of consuming too much).

It bothers me then, that so many white supremacist westerners see fit to take issue with the way other people conduct their faith. Halal rage is a tried and tested trick to whip fascists into a frenzy over faux concerns for animal welfare and Toblerone is the latest to face their ire. A halal certification does not mean a product contains halal ingredients necessarily, it just means it is not haraam. Air is halal. Water is halal. Breathe and drink to your heart’s content unless you are a white supremacist I guess.

It’s not animal welfare they’re concerned with though, if it were they’d start closer to home and consider all the horrific animal abuses Europeans are guilty of, and do something about it. Take Ortolan, the French ‘delicacy’ whereby the bird is placed in a dark cage where it reacts by gorging itself on grain. Once it is sufficiently stuffed it is thrown into a vat of Armagnac where it drowns and marinates. Diners place a napkin on their heads to hide their shame from God yet this practice evades the attention of rabid racists. The French are frogs except when they are white nationalists and allies to other white supremacists. It’s perfectly fine to force feed geese and ducks until their livers are so fatty and diseased they can be sold as a delicacy for exorbitant amounts.

The French are not alone in their barbaric butchery. In Spain lechon, or suckling pig is slaughtered between the ages of 2 and 6 weeks. The method of slaughter is harrowing, the squealing babies are impaled then thrown onto a heap of dying gurgling piglets. It is slow and torturous, from the moment they are torn from their mother’s teat – hence the name lechon, leche meaning milk – and slaughtered without a glance back to witness the suffering or even acknowledge it as such. With hellish conduct like this it is bizarre to consider the comparatively humane method of halal slaughter – and indeed kosher – as somehow more offensive to the genteel sensibilities of the enlightened European. Plucking newborn animals from their mothers maximizes suffering, whether lechon or veal, and it is forbidden in Islam.

No, the fascists don’t care much for the wellbeing of animals, they care only about white supremacy. The idea that there is a company going around, offering deals to manufacturers in exchange for favours, in this case halal certification, is not new. The fascists are afraid Muslims are doing to them what they did to the Muslim world (and beyond). They’re thinking about the East India Trading Company and all the sly manoeuvres they made, coming under the guise of merchants doing business, upending entire nations in the creation of white supremacist imperialism. Without the East India Trading Company there’d be no USA, no British empire, no divisions between the colonies they would subjugate and raze to the ground.

White supremacists don’t care if you kill animals for food, they want everyone to eat bacon sandwiches. Nope, they’re just afraid the chickens are coming home to roost.

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Nothing compares to the truth

Sinead O Connor says white people are disgusting and she wants nothing more to do with them and that is her right as a white person and citizen of a country that prides itself on free speech. I’ve lost count of the times I said Pakistanis are disgusting though I have to admit it’s been a fair while since I did. Growing up it was my party trick, to show everyone how much I was not like all the others I’d stroke their egos, demonstrating my eagnerness and willingness to please with my local accent and knowledge of pop culture. I beamed with pride when a random girl on the bus complimented my accent as being so Brummy, you could never tell (that I was a Paki?) and when assorted friends rewarded my compliance, (which often translated into unabashed verbal paki bashing) with praise for how much I was not like all the others, I lapped it up, convinced this endorsement would save me from the racists. I resented it even at the time but I hadn’t fully realised the extent to which I would grow to abhor my own cowardice. I performed like the proverbial monkey, unaware, or perhaps unwilling to recognise the power play, reinforcing my lowly status every time I entered into this dance with my alleged superiors.

When Sinead O’Connor talks about disgusting white people I know who she means. It’s those people I felt compelled to please. I met L when I was 15, as a runaway, isolated, stuck in a rut, desperate for interaction. We were like chalk and cheese and not in that good opposites attract way. Up until my escape I’d been a straight A student and prided myself on learning and bettering myself. I had to dumb myself down so L wouldn’t feel like I was showing off. She was aggressive, using her body to push you where she wanted you. She wasn’t particularly big, just white. It was a feature of our friendship, to constantly reiterate how I’d managed to do well for myself, being friends with these white people on a council estate in Northolt when my folks were so alien and unworthy. She wasn’t the last white person to make me feel this way, I almost married another one. He said very early on in our relationship that he would only say it once but I might be smarter than him. I guess I could have spoken up, if I wasn’t paralysed from fear at the time, when he barked up my street at 3am it was his country and he’d talk as loud as he’d like, when I asked him to keep it down because people were sleeping. I was disgusted with his behaviour but didn’t locate my backbone until the relationship ended and I could finally be honest with myself. In the end I was grateful for the lesson, how white people will use a single person of colour to shield themselves against accusations of racism, all the while exerting unchecked white privilege to say and do as they please with no consequences.

These white people behaved in disgusting ways, and they are by no means the exception. When I said Pakistanis were disgusting I was reacting to the microaggressions we absorb as soon as we are able to verbalise. The racialised system of deserving and undeserving which places Pakistanis at the very bottom, in Asia but also the world. We are a slur weaponised against all South Asians, even non Asian Muslims. I had the impression Pakistani men were the most lecherous, the most violent, until I started working in domestic violence services. It was a long process but once I had made the decision to let the veil drop I was coasting. It was so much easier for me to be anti racist, to listen and go with my gut. So much less stress. Of course this means conflict is almost a permanent feature of my life but I’m nobody’s bitch. Being your own person of colour, respecting your past and acknowledging the hurdles your ancestors took for you to exist today, that’s empowering. Shaking the white gaze away from your eyes to see the strength of character and sheer bloody mindedness it took to survive the barbaric British empire, when it set out to destroy our cultures and peoples and very nearly succeeded, is catharthic and goes a little way to heal the fractures in our psyche.

I no longer think of Pakistanis as disgusting but broken and doing the best we can. We were and still are treated disgustingly by disgusting people wearing whiteness like armour against criticism of their inhumane and savage treatment of non whites. If you’re white and you found Ms O’Connor’s comments disgraceful consider the following:

You are a racist. A revisionist. A liar. A fake.

I thank Sinead O’Connor for having the courage to speak up in these threatening times. By making herself a target she takes some of the heat off the usual punching bags, and gives marginalised people everywhere a smidgen of hope that things are slowly changing, the world is righting itself.

White Supremacy Kills Jews

The police have launched an investigation into allegations of antisemitism in the Labour Party, an extraordinary feat considering they are usually too frightened to do anything about other pressing societal issues like establishment child sex abuse (lest they upset the ethnics for their cultural practices) and tory electoral fraud, which is oh so politically sensitive (and might get them sacked). A dossier was handed to the police by an LBC journalist, those bastions of anti racist activism. I’ve tried to report racism to the cops before but been on the wrong end of a white supremacist agenda and somehow ended up being warned for my political beliefs, because I could kill all the men without batting an eyelid, obviously.

It’s been almost a week since I was suspended from Twitter for calling a white supremacist a dirty rat. I haven’t stopped thinking about the 11 Jewish elders brutally murdered by a white supremacist. Robert Bowers, a white American male reported to have an online presence demonstrating a “vitriolic hatred of Jewish people and other bigotry” has pleaded not guilty to the murder of his 11 victims and although we all know he did it, recovering as he is from the multiple gunshots he sustained in the showdown with Pittsburgh police, in which a couple of officers were also injured, Bowers most likely believes he can get away with it. In what world could a man of colour shoot 11 people to death and injure law enforcement but still escape with their life intact, free to claim up is down an blame someone else for his barbaric actions? Not in this white man’s world. But Bowers is going to have a go. His white privilege will protect him, it has so far.

The white supremacist establishment have made themselves clear; racism against black and brown people does not exist but antisemitism is criminal behaviour. This will hurt Jews ultimately but 84% do not care about that currently, so long as those socialist bastards don’t get in. I wonder if the 84% are willing to consider a white supremacist killed 11 Jews because he is white and Jews are a threat to white supremacy. No? Not even out of respect for memory? Or personal safety? Of the 84% of Jews afraid of Corbyn’s socialist vision for all ethnicities, how many would consider themselves white? How many are European? How many are white passing?

Surely an interesting study to undertake given the implications of such an investigation by the police? That the people who suffer most as a result of ethno-religious conflict in Britain today is its minority of white passing Jews? Just not Muslims. Or travellers. Or black people. What an unpredictable twist. And by that I mean predictably twisted and untrue.

Holding Nazi Collaborators to Account

As you know, Nazis have made several attempts to dox me these past few weeks. They have included my personal information, forcing me to come out with my real name and when that didn’t provoke the response they wanted, they went after my family, many of whom don’t even have social media. They’re currently in control of a comrade’s Twitter account, that they’ve hacked, which I’ve reported and blocked. This is all in an attempt to silence and isolate me.

Kiwifarms has so far been implicated in at least two murders. ‘Joshua Moon’ the administrator denies any involvement but it was partly his rants threatening mass murder that inspired William Atchison to murder two people before turning the gun on himself, just as police stormed the building. It is with this in mind that I emailed the company hosting the site @versaweb to report abuse. It was a Saturday so I figured I would wait until the end of the next working day before I raised concerns regarding their inaction. On May 26th I tweeted them, inquiring why they had not acknowledged my email and encouraged my followers to do the same but despite this, they remained silent. Throughout the course of this past week they have ignored various attempts to engage them, but yesterday, Thursday 31st May I noticed they had a picture of their accounts assistant. Finally, a human face. Someone real to hold accountable.

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I clicked on the website link in their Twitter bio and found more faces.

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I was offline for a short while but when I went to access Twitter via my phone I was suddenly prompted for my password. Now if I didn’t have a healthy distrust for Twitter and the way they enable nazis and their numerous attempts to fish for my identifying information every time I’m locked out, I might have inputted it. Luckily I was so put out by this I scanned the screen for more information, some clue as to why they’d had the audacity to spring this on me and I noticed an ‘ignore’ option in the corner. It took me straight through to my Twitter account. Alarms bells blaring I asked my followers what it meant when this happened and was advised that it was a phishing attempt, someone was trying to hack my account. Out of curiosity I opened my internet browser and saw this.

..Had Versaweb just tried to phish my Twitter password? To what end? I managed to avoid being hacked but my comrade didn’t. There are nazis on his Twitter account currently.

Twitter seem to be taking their sorry ass time about it. A number of us have reported the account has been hacked and also various tweets that most definitely violate their terms of service but it doesn’t seemed to have alerted them.

Reading about the incel who murdered two with a view to many more I can’t help but balk at the statement from New Mexico law enforcement:

“It’s a shame he wasn’t on our radar,” San Juan County Sheriff Ken Christesen told Fox News last week. “I don’t think he had anything so much as a traffic ticket.”

And yet online, the 21-year-old New Mexico resident lived a prolific life as a white supremacist, pro-Trump meme peddler who was most known for his obsession with school shooters. For a half-decade, Atchison spent most of his days online, repeatedly posting threats of violence and cries for help.

Why has the nazi problem been allowed to spin so far out of control? Why hasn’t anyone listened to their victims? This isn’t my first run in with kiwifarms, nor any other chapter of incels, self confessed rapists, racists and paedosadists, there are many mutations of the ‘chans’ that plagued us 4-5 years ago. We reported it then and we were told to log off. We were told by the authorities they could not prove we were distressed or intimidated by nazis threatening to rape and kill us because we talked back. They’ve been allowed to propagate, organise and galvanise themselves. Where is the authority?

No one can say at this stage they ‘didn’t know’. In the aftermath of genocides this is the coward’s lament. Everyone knows nazis are here. Everyone knows they want to force women into having sex.

What are we going to do about it?

Punish a Muslim Day is Cancelled

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You may or may not have heard about the threatening letters sent to Muslim MPs and homes across the UK calling for a day of violent attacks against Muslims. The letters, entitled ‘Punish a Muslim Day’, feature a table awarding points for violent acts such as verbally abusing a Muslim for 10 points to butchering a Muslim for 500. It goes without saying many people are feeling scared and unsure of what to do or who to turn to.

The authorities are aware of the threat and are said to be investigating but let’s be honest, can we really trust the authorities to have our back? Organisations like Tell Mama have made us aware of a whatsapp message doing the rounds which is advising Muslims to stay at home on April 3rd, the date given by the perpetrators for their hateful day of action. However Tell Mama are suggesting we treat it just like any other day, and not succumb to the fear mongering, as though we have a choice.

Just recently Mark Rowley the former assistant Met commissioner warned that National Action was proving to be an organised threat of which the likes have never been seen before and the public should be ‘gravely concerned’. He said this shortly before stepping down from his role in counter terrorism policing. This certainly fits their MO. National Action, a hate group proscribed in December of last year, are the first far right extremist group to have been banned under terror legislation. Far right white supremacist groups account for 1/3 of all the case work undertaken by the counter terrorism unit. Do we really feel safe enough to keep calm and carry on in the face of such a threat? It’s easy enough to advise people to rise above the violence promised to them if you personally feel safe under the state’s watchful eye but for many of us, we have seen firsthand how the state enables threats like these to propagate through their wilful inaction. They actively promote racial discord, citing cultural reasons as an excuse for why they didn’t do their jobs investigating abuse of white working class minors.

I reported racism a few years back and not only did the police deny any laws had been broken they went on to threaten me for my political beliefs. I hadn’t made any direct threats, just used a vague generalised statement said by many thousands of women before me, but they decided it negated the many racialised threats to kill and rape made against me. I am one of countless victims of police negligence, they are not my saviours, never mind in matters of racialised violence. It is irresponsible for any organisation to advise marginalised folk to ignore their gut instincts to protect themselves and their loved ones and throw themselves out there. These are our lives at stake, we have no sense of English superiority to bolster our confidence in the state. We aren’t here for the blitz spirit. We can’t keep calm and carry on when disgusting white males sexually assault Muslim looking women in the streets. We shouldn’t have to rise above the abuse meted out to our children. I am not too proud to admit I am frightened for my life, I’ve been like this for years but the fear has escalated because I’m worried for my neighbours, my community, people I’ve never met before.

I am forced to think of Bosnia, the Rohingya, Muslims who’ve been systematically targeted and killed by organised militias with very little intervention by the state, because the state arms them and lets them organise but keeps a safe enough distance so as to deny any culpability when it is all done. Why hasn’t the state called Cobra? Imagine if white people were put at risk in this way? We are not just Muslims, we are British citizens, we pay our taxes and yet..

Until the authorities; the police, the state, make a point of condemning white supremacy and the enablers, the Farages and Hopkins, the lefties and liberals, this looming threat will consume us. Until they make a stand, we can only do our best to protect ourselves. Tell your loved ones that fascism isn’t dead, whatever the liberals might say. Trust your gut not theirs. Stay at home on April 3rd and remain vigilant. Doing your job, making money, none of that means anything if you’re dead or disfigured for life.

Britain’s Rejects

My 72 year old immigrant grandmother died in 2002, prompting a rushed visit to Pakistan. She had specified her wishes to be repatriated to her final resting place when the time came. Growing up we’d always objected to their pipe dream plans to show us the motherland, even going so far as likening it to death, given that we were never short of a cautionary tale or two of what could go wrong if they were not truthful of their intentions. There was always talk of so and so’s kid who’d gone off the rails so the folks took them ‘back home’ to straighten them out. This usually meant a forced marriage but there was always the worry you’d never return.

For 20 years I’d ignored their pleas to at least give them a chance and see what they had built with their own hands, for us, so that we had roots and a place we could always call home. My gran, or dhaadhi as we called her, would look at us in disbelief and shake her head, unsure of how else to sell it to us; the stories she’d tell of exotic fruits abundant in the courtyard, trees grown especially for us, her face wrinkled up in a smile as she recalled the exceptional quality of, as she put it, the juiciest mangoes on God’s green earth and other fruits I don’t know the English word for.

Whilst I love listening to her and seeing her clear delight I wasn’t convinced. I considered myself British, English even, and harboured an unhealthy self hate; I wasn’t above sneering at Pakis. Eager to set myself apart I believed the things white people said about Pakistan and Pakistanis and asserted my Britishness whenever it was required of me. I do cringe whenever I think back to that mindset. I think about the sort of white person who’d get off on hearing my disgust for people like me, the kind to collect tokens and play brown people off each other, dividing Muslims and Hindus for example and profiting off the misery that inevitably follows. Divide rule and conquer works to this day.

It didn’t matter when she died though, I suddenly felt I owed her a trip. Almost immediately I was consumed with guilt that I hadn’t honoured this wish of hers whilst she had been alive but I hoped she knew I was with her for her final journey. Barely six hours after she took her last breath we (my twin, dad, aunt and I) were in business class on a PIA flight bound for Islamabad. It was the first time I’d ever flown and my nerves were shot, I’d barely slept or processed what had happened but the hot cloths and silver service made up for the turbulence a little bit. My dad even let twin and I smoke a cigarette! It was that kind of a day, normal programming abandoned, venturing into the unknown out of a sense of duty and family pride. I tried not to think of her, alone, entombed in a wooden box, along with the rest of the cargo.

We landed at Islamabad airport at 6am. I was hit by the heat, as if I’d walked into a wall of hot air and it would suffocate me, upon exiting the plane. The sun hadn’t been up long but it was already 27 degrees. My thoughts went to my gran and the effect these conditions would have on her lifeless body. We waited for her coffin to be released and clung to each other through the chaos and din of the arrivals lounge, we weren’t in Kansas anymore. Random strange men pawed at our luggage offering to carry it, not being entirely forthcoming about the tip they expected for this service. It smelt funny, and the people were scary, staring at us as if we’d fallen from the sky. An uncle herded us out of the terminal and explained we looked different to regular Pakistanis and they were probably trying to figure out if we were worth anything.

It didn’t feel like a homecoming but the worst day of my life and the natives weren’t exactly helping. I didn’t want my worst fears to be confirmed, that we were easy pickings and could be disappeared, never to return. Dad’s cousin thought we were hilarious, batting furiously at the flies that seemed to throng the air, shrieking at the various creepy critters that had dared to greet us. We were a novelty. Fragile. Typical of desis who’d lost their way. A highly amusing form of entertainment for the locals.

The funeral was as expected; the outpouring of grief par the course but I had never imagined my dear gran knew so many people. I was bewildered by the number of women sat around smoking, a practice that was almost entirely gendered amongst the older generations in Britain. I only ever knew one lady smoker, my granddad’s sister in law and she had a free pass on account of her mental status. Here it just seemed to be a way of life, the chilum, similar to a shisha, was a permanent fixture. Granted they weren’t holding penis shaped cigarettes as they do in the west (cigarettes were originally marketed to women on the basis that women envied the penis and smoking would achieve equality or something) but this was really a sight to behold for someone who’d been brought up in a strict household where women most definitely did not smoke. I was also surprised at the relative freedom my girl cousins had with regards to their personal grooming. We’d been forced to keep our hair long, our eyebrows natural and our sleeves below the elbow and yet my cousins had no such restrictions. It’s when I first started to believe our grandparents were trying to preserve something of our culture in the west, that we were a snapshot frozen in time of an era pre colonialism whereas the rest of the world had just moved on.

They referred to us as the English princesses, for being so vulnerable to the elements. In our hurry to bury dhaadhi according to Islamic law within 24 hours, we’d had to forgo the usual preparations; shots for foreign diseases and the like. Within 48 hours we were struck with a mystery bug that was determined to shoot itself out of both ends and stifling temperatures in the mid 50s weren’t helping the situation, especially when the electricity was guaranteed to give out at least twice a day. I had never felt more miserable in my life and decided there was nothing else for it, we had to go home. Everyone else had other ideas though; we hadn’t given it a chance, we needed to eat more and think about getting better, the airline wouldn’t carry us if we were too sick and for a brief time I was petrified they weren’t going to let us leave at all. Maybe this had been the plan all along.

Fortunately the bug seemed to attack in waves and a day later our uncle took us shopping, we hadn’t come with very much stuff, in my case I didn’t even own more than one pair of salwar kameez. All was going well until we actually spoke to the vendors and my uncle clocked they were hiking up the prices. He said if we liked the look of anything to point at it rather than say anything aloud. I was confused, we’d been conversing in Punjabi but apparently even that sounded different to them and English people could afford to pay more.

I felt personally attacked, not gonna lie. I didn’t belong here, as people were keen to point out with every interaction. I didn’t like the heat, I didn’t like the food, or the people even, they were rude and looked at me the way closeted racists did in England. I didn’t feel safe. All I wanted was a cheese and tomato sandwich and my bed, at home in rainy blighty. I asked for fries on one occasion, thinking there isn’t a place in the world you can’t get fries, and bawled my eyes out when they arrived dusted with chilli powder. In the end, I shook off as much of it as I could and sliced up some tomato and onion for the weirdest chip butty ever. I dreamed of Nandos. I vowed to kiss the ground when I got home and never complain about the cold ever again (delirious or delusional, you decide) and made it my mission to pester the folks at all times, ET had to go home. Eventually, 10 days after the ordeal began we boarded a flight home, excited like you wouldn’t believe I made lists in my head of everything I would drink and eat.

I wasn’t sorry to say goodbye to my dysfunctional country of origin, but I did think of what it might be like, 50 years on. There’s no doubting Pakistan is a hellhole for many reasons but it was made this way. It was a consolation prize given to the victims of the British empire, those who once considered themselves Indian, those of my grandparents generation who would’ve been young children at the time of partition. They’ve seen horrors we can only imagine. They are the product of such horrors. To show humanity you must be shown it and Pakistanis are amongst some of the first to be dehumanised. They are the losers of the empire and all the alliances that followed, between extremists bound by mutual desires for power and control and must be mocked and denigrated in order to maintain the global hierarchy. They are Muslims and they were once proud rulers of India, loved by moderates of all faiths. Their fall from grace is the only lasting legacy for young Pakistan, it simply hasn’t had enough time to recuperate.

Our grandparents were refugees of a kind, the land they occupied was destroyed by the British who busted a dam, destroying everything. Britain promised those people refuge from a disaster of their own creation and so they came, naive to the racism that awaited them. They never accepted they were British, my grandparent’s generations, their hearts were too broken, unable to mend. Such is the life of the stateless citizen. I had tricked myself into believing I belonged in the UK but 9/11 changed all of that. The unspoken hate bubbled to the surface and became impossible to ignore. It’s gotten exponentially worse in recent years, there’s no denying it now. They say we don’t integrate but when we do they want to ban us from getting involved, just look at the furore over the Xmas ads, life is impossible for those of us who do not belong anywhere.

There’s no love lost between me and centrist Sadiq Khan but I felt for him today. We don’t belong anywhere, we only have an idea of what it is to belong somewhere and our place of birth is the nearest we can get to realising it, despite what the racists might say.

Toxic Twitter is for White Supremacists

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Yesterday I posted a tweet regarding the suicide of Carl Sargeant, who took his own life following allegations of sex abuse.

I stand by this tweet, at a time when media vultures are desperate to create a narrative that will help cover up the true extent of sex abuse in our society we must take it upon ourselves to maintain the truth even when it makes us uncomfortable. I wasn’t surprised when the usual suspects – white men – turned up in my mentions to tell me to go see how I liked it in Delhi, a nod to the gang rape a few years back and how I was a bitter woman and an attention seeker.

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I didn’t go looking for this man, just to be clear, he found my tweet and approached me just to say I was an attention seeker. I replied:

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I would suggest this was a fair enough rebuke given that he was doing exactly what he was accusing me of, seeking my attention. He went on to say:

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This random on the internet was just looking for an excuse to bully me and so I muted him after the swiftest of exchanges and thought nothing more of it. In fact I had many tweets attacking me for standing in support of victims of sexual violence:

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I can just imagine Alan wanking furiously to the thought of brown women being violated in foreign countries, it’s a fetish of his. He blocked me before I could report his account for targeted harassment and abusive behaviour aimed at my perceived race/religion etc.

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This is a perfect example of white power, subjected me to hateful language and harassment whilst claiming I’m the racist.

alanconalancourseOnly an entitled white male with zero self control/awareness would think it ok to suggest I give a shit at all about whether he finds me attractive or not. Never mind the infantilisation that comes with it, quite sickening when you think of it in the context of sex abuse. He thinks he’s attacking a girl, not a 35 year old woman and this makes it even more despicable.

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This take.. correct me if I’m wrong but isn’t the PIE filled with right wing establishment types, like prince Andrew’s best mate? As if I’ve ever made a distinction between the sorts of men I’d like to see dead and buried. ALL men are capable of sex abuse and ALL men must be held to account.

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White men do not care about victims of sexual violence, they object to non white predators. You can draw a parallel with the ‘coming over here, taking all our jobs’ trope, they’re only upset there are fewer victims for them. This is why you never see white men demand action against all predatory sex attackers.

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That’s SIR Jimmy Savile, 1300 child victims of sex abuse, and everyone knew about what he was doing but no one said a thing, not the BBC, nor the government or the mainstream media. A mentally ill sex pest who used his elite networks to abuse white children at whim but all is forgiven, the real issue is those darkies who’ve been hardwired that way. Timmeh’s account is live still despite directing hate at a group of people/members of a religion. What a fascinating double standard Twitter seems to operate.

Later in the day I went to log in to Twitter only to find myself locked out. The prat who’d said I was an attention seeker reported me for two tweets which I happily deleted upon being prompted by Twitter and yet my account was still restricted, effectively silencing me for a week as I am not able to tweet, RT, like or send media in my DMs. I can read my TL and I can send DMs to mutual follows.

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There are Nazis advocating genocide on Twitter but we must allow the marketplace of ideas for civilised debates even if that means inciting hatred and violence towards minorities but I can’t be hyperbolic and suggest a man eat his own weiner, what if I tracked him down and made him do it..?

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He sent me a tweet calling me an attention seeker and routed a bunch of other white supremacist misogynists my way and when I tried to return the favour (at which point I also muted his account because he wouldn’t stop tweeting at me) he reports me for abuse and I am punished for a week? I don’t think this is just crappy algorithms, in recent weeks I’ve seen many of the prominent woc I follow have their accounts suspended because they were reported by a fragile fuckin snowflake and Twitter has done nothing to rectify this. I don’t think the Twitter nerds are ignorant, I believe they are actively supporting white supremacy behind the scenes – wtf is the Trump account about? – but cannot sieg heil in public because nazism doesn’t pay, at least not this century.

Update: Twitter has verified the account of the Nazi who organised the Charlottesville klan rally where Heather Heyer was murdered by a white supremacist. Twitter is telling us what it is, it’s time we listened and accepted it.