So if you lived in a society where you had to secure your communication in order to be yourself around others, here are the apps that could help you do that.
Signal let’s you securely text and make phone calls.
Onion Browser allows you to surf the web without leaving a trail.
Duck Duck Go isn’t super secure but it won’t record your searches like Google.
ProtonMail is a email client that lets you email other secure email accounts.
Periscope allows you to stream live video.
Semaphor is there so you can securely make group chat rooms.
American privacy laws allow you to use these all. So that’s pretty cool.
Because we’re currently living in the prologue of a cyberpunk dystopian novel, imma reblog this.
FYI the feds can crack Signal when they’re sufficiently motivated, which means the rest of these are probably also done. Not to say you shouldn’t use them–you should–but don’t go around thinking you’re immune to snooping.
True. These things delay, put up barriers that make you harder to follow and it takes more work and time to decrypt your messages.
That’s useful if you wanna pass on information that only needs to be hidden for a short time but if you need communication to stay secret forever no matter how hard the state tries, don’t use the internet at all. There is no encryption that is going to stay uncrackable forever.
pay attention to that last sentence. there’s a fallacy in thinking that if you lock something, it’s safe forever. in truth a lock is a deterrent, and anyone sufficiently determined will get through, it’s simply a matter of time and a lock makes it take longer.
think about what you want encrypted, and why, and what lengths you’re willing to go to, to keep it that way
When locking your phone use a pin, not your fingerprint or face. You’re pin is safe under the law, your fingerprint and face are not. Again, they are meant to delay things to keep you safer.
“In 1984, when Ruth Coker Burks was 25 and a young mother living in Arkansas, she would often visit a hospital to care for a friend with cancer.
During one visit, Ruth noticed the nurses would draw straws, afraid to go into one room, its door sealed by a big red bag. She asked why and the nurses told her the patient had AIDS.
On a repeat visit, and seeing the big red bag on the door, Ruth decided to disregard the warnings and sneaked into the room.
In the bed was a skeletal young man, who told Ruth he wanted to see his mother before he died. She left the room and told the nurses, who said, “Honey, his mother’s not coming. He’s been here six weeks. Nobody’s coming!”
Ruth called his mother anyway, who refused to come visit her son, who she described as a "sinner” and already dead to her, and that she wouldn’t even claim his body when he died.
“I went back in his room and when I walked in, he said, “Oh, momma. I knew you’d come”, and then he lifted his hand. And what was I going to do? So I took his hand. I said, “I’m here, honey. I’m here”, Ruth later recounted.
Ruth pulled a chair to his bedside, talked to him
and held his hand until he died 13 hours later.
After finally finding a funeral home that would his body, and paying for the cremation out of her own savings, Ruth buried his ashes on her family’s large plot.
After this first encounter, Ruth cared for other patients. She would take them to appointments, obtain medications, apply for assistance, and even kept supplies of AIDS medications on hand, as some pharmacies would not carry them.
Ruth’s work soon became well known in the city and she received financial assistance from gay bars, "They would twirl up a drag show on Saturday night and here’d come the money. That’s how we’d buy medicine, that’s how we’d pay rent. If it hadn’t been for the drag queens, I don’t know what we would have done”, Ruth said.
Over the next 30 years, Ruth cared for over 1,000 people and buried more than 40 on her family’s plot most of whom were gay men whose families would not claim their ashes.
For this, Ruth has been nicknamed the ‘Cemetery Angel’.”— by Ra-Ey Saley
She’s 60 now, she’s still doing activist and advocacy work, and working on a memoir.
A girl who is in control during sex is my fucking weakness. Like fuck undress me, tease the shit out of me, pin me against the wall, hold my arms, sit on my lap, bite my neck, kiss me hard. Those kind of shit
I know a lot of people have this idea that they should be pushing themselves past their limits to achieve something. My illnesses and disability have taught me that pushing myself past my limits can only harm me. Yet, everyone expects me to do so. Here is your reminder that you do not have to push yourself past your limits. Those limits are there for a reason. Just take your time and do things at your own pace.
Problem with being a rational person with an irrational disorder. I am very aware that it’s not healthy, not good and I know where it came from. I just can’t get myself to change it
i just wanna move out n live w the love of my life and make them breakfast every morning and we can dance around in our shitty little apartment to our favourite songs and kiss and fall more and more in love every day
