The Tenacious Unicorn Ranch / @TenaciousRanch / Steampunk Penny / Penellope Logue / Phillip Matthew Logue - Don't cry because it ended, laugh because it's still getting worse.

Who are the top three strongest characters in the Kevin Gibes Inflated Universe (KGIU) canon?

  • Gash Coyote

    Votes: 102 4.5%
  • Rioley

    Votes: 277 12.3%
  • Penis

    Votes: 408 18.1%
  • Loathsome Dung Eater Jen

    Votes: 291 12.9%
  • Boner

    Votes: 294 13.0%
  • Kevin Gibes

    Votes: 671 29.7%
  • The Elusive Earl

    Votes: 701 31.0%
  • Landon Hiscock

    Votes: 262 11.6%
  • The Korps LARP Brigade

    Votes: 200 8.9%
  • Kiwifarms Militia

    Votes: 1,122 49.7%
  • Kindness

    Votes: 650 28.8%
  • Trans Cucumber The Child Abandoner

    Votes: 306 13.6%

  • Total voters
    2,258
That makes it even funnier when they fail. Think about it. Kiwis have written extensive and in-depth posts on animal husbandry, how the Tranchers have destroyed their land (and how to prevent it), how to do home repairs, how to cook, how to run a better business, yarn quality reviews, and mountains of gun sperging.

The information and links are all right there, plain as day, and yet the troons still manage to fuck things up.

It's like telling someone, "Hey, you should turn your car around. There's a giant sink hole in the road up ahead."

And, instead of doing the smart thing, they spot the little green birds on your shirt, shriek out, "Fuck you, you cisheteronormative Nazi scum!" flip you off, and floor it.

You tried and failed, but it made the crash so much more satisfying to watch, because you get to say, "Told you so."
I honestly believe it's a worldview issue.

It is the trans way of life to reject reality and substitute their own. Except if you do this often enough in your discourse and your attitude, you internalize it, and before long anyone who tells you you're wrong is a gaslighting phobic enemy.

But this doesn't work in the real world. You can't say "um actually our farmland identifies as lush and fertile, no matter how it looks."

There's typically a right way to do things when it comes to demanding physical efforts like farming. And the compulsion to not listen to their detractors keeps driving them in the opposite direction. After all, if certain advice crops up here, and then also makes it's way to twitter, it's not that it's just good accepted advice, it's that the tweets are coming from secret trolls.

Can you imagine? They change the way they're doing things to the correct way, the ranch prospers, and people start whispering, "they took the advice of those kiwi trolls?" It would cause them physical pain. They would sooner watch the alpacas starve.
 
They really acted like they armed up because of the threats, not because they're just larpers who love guns.
Observations:
  • Jared saying "theraputical" and Phil saying "fascistic" was pretty funny
  • Phil screaming MOVE IN gives me a taste of what voice he uses to abuse women at protest
  • I can see how Phil keeps tearing his rotator cuff given his performative faggy arm swinging
  • Phil and Paul throw out how it's weird that people trying to kill them are funny, and Phil pretends that's a sign of all the trauma they went through, rather than how joyful they are that their bullshit was so profitable
  • Throwing in random facts about trans people to act like they're helping is pretty gross and a disservice to the trans community
  • Journalism is a fat liar and I wouldn't have sex with it
 
I honestly believe it's a worldview issue.

It is the trans way of life to reject reality and substitute their own. Except if you do this often enough in your discourse and your attitude, you internalize it, and before long anyone who tells you you're wrong is a gaslighting phobic enemy.

But this doesn't work in the real world. You can't say "um actually our farmland identifies as lush and fertile, no matter how it looks."

There's typically a right way to do things when it comes to demanding physical efforts like farming. And the compulsion to not listen to their detractors keeps driving them in the opposite direction. After all, if certain advice crops up here, and then also makes it's way to twitter, it's not that it's just good accepted advice, it's that the tweets are coming from secret trolls.

Can you imagine? They change the way they're doing things to the correct way, the ranch prospers, and people start whispering, "they took the advice of those kiwi trolls?" It would cause them physical pain. They would sooner watch the alpacas starve.
It's not about the ranch succeeding. It's about the dopamine hit of having your beliefs affirmed and getting to live in a state of pseudo-adolescence indulging your kinks. The ranch's success is ancillary at best. If they need money, it's far easier and more affirming to grift, so they're motivated to do the absolute minimum necessary to keep up the illusion of this being a ranch. When reality threatens your fantasy, just keep entrenching and doubling down. You can always blame the left's many boogeymen for your failures.
 
It's not about the ranch succeeding. It's about the dopamine hit of having your beliefs affirmed and getting to live in a state of pseudo-adolescence indulging your kinks. The ranch's success is ancillary at best. If they need money, it's far easier and more affirming to grift, so they're motivated to do the absolute minimum necessary to keep up the illusion of this being a ranch. When reality threatens your fantasy, just keep entrenching and doubling down. You can always blame the left's many boogeymen for your failures.
I'm not so sure it's an entirely cynical thing like that. At least not for all of the tranchers. There is some true belief there, which is what makes them really dangerous, IMO.

Troons very often fall prey to their own delusions. After all, if you tell yourself something hard enough and long enough, you might eventually start believing it. But it's a flimsy thing, and it tends to fall apart quickly when challenged, which usually results in lashing out. Their behavior looks consistent with that sort of cognitive dissonance: they act one way, then flash into a different pattern of behavior as they have a lucid moment or something cuts through their delusion, then sink again into it as they calm down. It's how they can run two narratives at once: being a badass transgender ranch full of powerful and skilled True and Honest Women... while at the same time being under constant terror and threat from invisible MAGA Militias and needing all the help they can get.

These people are insane. But... let's face it, that's the first thing you notice when you read the OP.
 
I'm not so sure it's an entirely cynical thing like that. At least not for all of the tranchers. There is some true belief there, which is what makes them really dangerous, IMO.

Troons very often fall prey to their own delusions. After all, if you tell yourself something hard enough and long enough, you might eventually start believing it. But it's a flimsy thing, and it tends to fall apart quickly when challenged, which usually results in lashing out. Their behavior looks consistent with that sort of cognitive dissonance: they act one way, then flash into a different pattern of behavior as they have a lucid moment or something cuts through their delusion, then sink again into it as they calm down. It's how they can run two narratives at once: being a badass transgender ranch full of powerful and skilled True and Honest Women... while at the same time being under constant terror and threat from invisible MAGA Militias and needing all the help they can get.

These people are insane. But... let's face it, that's the first thing you notice when you read the OP.
I think there's some true belief, sure. But there's also confirmation bias and the social reward that comes from advertising your troonery online. And let's face it, delusional beliefs plus enforced consensus is a recipe for cult logic.
 
Its all bizarre.

No competent rancher suffers a fraction of the injuries a Penny does. However, he's had ongoing complications to the broken ankle he couldn't go to the doctor for iirc and that's what the crutches are for. The rotator cuff is a new injury.
Assuming it's a real injury and he is not being a drama queen: I really do wonder about the effects of female hormones on a male body that is accustomed to moving and working a certain way for decades. Females tend to have looser joints, which is one reason women are more prone to sports injuries. A woman's joints will also loosen a bit during pregnancy to make giving birth easier, which is why you hear some women talking about going up a shoe size during pregnancy; the loosened joints can literally make their feet bigger. This is apparently caused by both relaxin (irrelevant here) but also progesterone (which I think MtFs do take). Looser joints = more instability, more easily injured.

Now imagine you are walking around with a big hulking male skeleton, and for 3-4 decades you have been used to performing actions that match up to the strength of that skeleton and all the stuff holding the bones nicely in place. Except all of a sudden your body has been dosed with female hormones that make your ligaments softer and atrophy your muscles. In that situation, you'd think it would be easy to perform a relatively 'normal' motion while lifting or pulling something heavy, and accidentally tear a tendon in half because a joint is not as stable as it used to be and something shifted out of place.

Of course, it could also just be that they are fucking idiots.

(Note: I am not a medical professional, so this is just speculation, but on the other hand I am comfortable speculating because it's not like actual medical professionals seem to give a shit about what happens to trans people's health once they are on their titty skittles)
 
1628111808158.png1628111815093.png
https://twitter.com/SteampunkPenny/status/1423025334774124545 (Archive)

LOL, Paul is fat.

Also, again why would anyone be scarred of a troon with a gun. They're way more likely to use them on themselves than any "fascist".
 
View attachment 2412551View attachment 2412552
https://twitter.com/SteampunkPenny/status/1423025334774124545 (Archive)

LOL, Paul is fat.

Also, again why would anyone be scarred of a troon with a gun. They're way more likely to use them on themselves than any "fascist".
I don't kid around people with guns. The shooters might not be well-trained or accurate, but when bullets start flying every single one of them has "to whom it may concern" written on the side. All this posturing, combined with their mounting paranoia and inflated egos, is going to get someone shot one day, and I don't mean it in a 41% way.
 
Also, again why would anyone be scarred of a troon with a gun.
Because they're mentally ill and dumb enough to pull something. You've got these hulking he-beasts with broken brains that are flooded with the wrong hormones and an absolute desire for violence. If this goes wrong, a bullet is ultimately a bullet.
 
New Tenacious Unicorn Ranch article from something called "MEL Magazine".
Screenshot_20210804-210455.jpg
Well played, Earl.
Screenshot_20210804-210558.jpg

ALT-RIGHT COLORADANS WENT TO WAR WITH AN ALPACA FARM — AND THE FARM WON​

For nearly nine months, Tenacious Unicorn Ranch, a safe haven for trans and queer Coloradans, faced violent threats from right-wing extremists. Until, that is, they turned to their local anarchists for help.

First came the death threats on Facebook, with a stream of anonymous voices threatening to burn down the ranch and take all the guns. Then came the tails — unfamiliar trucks following them, usually for miles at a time, all the way home.
But the final straw came the evening of March 5th, when two groups of men quietly traversed the quarter-mile dirt road to the front gate of the ranch. One pair were caught by the night guard around midnight, fiddling with the light and lock on the gate. Several hours later, two more people clambered across a field, flanking toward the main house. “Our guy James [a pseudonym] spotted them. He hit them with a spotlight, and told them, ‘Remove yourselves, or die.’ And they ran like jackrabbits. I credit him for potentially saving our lives that night,” Penny Logue tells me. “It was a literal wake-up call.”
Logue, 40, is an Army vet with wavy blond hair and the confident air of a person who’s seen some shit, but she grimaces as she recalls the trespassing incident. She is the founder and co-owner of Tenacious Unicorn Ranch, a livestock farm on 40 acres of land that’s also a self-sufficient sanctuary for trans and queer people who need a place to stay and work. Set on the golden plains near the town of Westcliffe, Colorado, it’s a one-of-a-kind venue for a project that’s inspired both scrutiny and solidarity from allies and critics across the country.
Tenacious Unicorn has all the trappings of a farm — nearly 200 alpaca and dozens of sheep, plus ducks, chickens, dogs and cats — but also a ton of gear you don’t normally see in an agricultural setting: a scoped rifle, a couple of AR-15s, pistols, bulletproof vests and enough ammunition to launch a hunting expedition. Some days, amid the bleating of the alpaca, you can hear the distinct ping of 5.56 rounds hitting metal as the ranch hands drill long-range shooting in the backyard.


Logue and Bonnie Nelson, 34, came here two years ago. They now live at the ranch full time, along with 29-year-old J Stanley and Nelson’s husband, Sky. The home can comfortably fit a dozen people, making it a tranquil refuge in uncertain territory: Westcliffe is deeply conservative, and Logue is keenly aware of the Oath Keepers, Three Percenters and other right-wing agitators who roam this part of Colorado.
The nighttime trespass was the crest of a violent wave that began to swell on July 4, 2020, when Logue and Nelson witnessed a protest in Westcliffe while drinking coffee. The annual parade had been canceled due to the pandemic, but that didn’t stop local conservatives from congregating. The coterie included men holding Three Percenter banners, shirts supporting “white lives” and reams of MAGA gear. Incensed, Logue took to Twitter to write that the Fourth of July protest in Westcliffe was full of “Nazi propaganda.”
After that, the harassment took off.
“I came to Penny vehemently anti-gun, but after that Fourth of July protest and everything that happened, I bought the biggest rifle I could get my hands on,” Nelson says with a chuckle.
In addition to being trans, Logue, Nelson and Stanley are self-identifying anarchists, which has made them a particular threat to some observers (including a local blog that righteously deemed Tenacious Unicorn “left-wing fascism… xenophobes full of hate and obsessed with violence”). More than anything, though, their philosophy is one of self-reliance.
Logue and fellow ranchers don’t trust local law enforcement, telling me that they feel uneasy because of a few negative encounters with deputies coupled with Custer County Sheriff Shannon Byerly’s own behavior, which includes lying about the group’s behavior to the media and his admission that he spoke at an Oath Keepers rally.
In an email, Byerly says that his office hasn’t contacted the ranch since the spring, but hopes the members will report any threats. “Early on, there were a couple of instances where ‘anonymous’ sources called to complain about the way the animals on the ranch were being treated and a deputy went out there one time. We found the animals were all in very good care and so we haven’t listened to any other complaints against the folks there,” he writes.
Nonetheless, five months after the attack, Logue says a sense of calm has returned to the ranch. She attributes that calm to the silver lining of the chaos: When Tenacious Unicorn started posting and tweeting about the incursion in March, allies emerged from the woodwork almost immediately, enthusiastic to join the fray and fight back. Dozens of people from across Colorado and beyond, many of them anti-fascists and anarchists, reached out to Logue to volunteer for guard duty. Some sympathetic strangers sent money to pay for cameras and new fencing along the exposed edges of the ranch. Others delivered body armor, ammunition and gun accessories, such as Chris Bilynsky, a 39-year-old blacksmith in Kansas, who drove to Tenacious Unicorn to deliver handmade bulletproof plates and first-aid kits.
“Given the violence toward trans people, and how it’s increasing, it just felt like an important group to assist. Penny, Bonnie and everyone there are doing important work, and from an anarchist perspective, I think rural areas of America are ripe for positive change,” Bilynsky explains.
Tenacious Unicorn readied for the worst, with a stockpile of bulletproof plates and plentiful ammunition. So far, however, the best defense has been solidarity, not bullets. Logue remains cowed by the sheer volume and enthusiasm of people who reached out to help. (Some of the outreach was completely unexpected. “A lot of Boogaloo folks reached out to us. We had to say no, although the gesture was, err, hugely appreciated,” Logue says with a shrug.)
“It’s been insanely humbling, to say the least,” adds Logue. “These networks for support weren’t ready before the massive 2020 summer of protest. People would’ve been sympathetic to our cause, and we might’ve gotten donations, but the on-the-ground mobilization wouldn’t have been possible.”
For more than a month after the March incident, a four-person volunteer team patrolled the ranch every night, serving as a visible and armed deterrent for anyone watching with binoculars. Nowadays, the security regimen has relaxed a bit — but everyone sleeps easier knowing that help can, and will, arrive.


In an America hostile to queer and trans people, the ranch is evolving into a rare, radical blueprint for securing agency and joy in wide-open rural spaces through strong community support. The timing couldn’t be more urgent, with homelessness and violence rising sharply in the trans community in recent years. It’s what propelled Nelson to join Penny as a co-owner in the endeavor just months after joining the ranch.
“It’s a very hard life to be trans by yourself. I started to transition ten and a half years ago, and I had zero community until I left New York and joined this place,” Nelson says. “I don’t think Penny knew whether I’d be useful, [but] the ranch gave me a job, a home, and a way to help other trans people up.”
The ranch is sustained partly through selling wool from its alpaca and sheep herds, but the trio also conduct off-ranch work around Westcliffe and southern Colorado, tackling repairs, landscaping and other odd jobs for cash. Over time, they’ve grown a loyal clientele — some of whom even reached out privately to warn them about angry threats they’ve heard in town or read online.
These flirtations with violence don’t phase Stanley, 29, who joined Tenacious Unicorn in spring of last year after falling out with her family in North Texas. Stanley discovered the ranch via replies to her offhand tweet — “Trans commune when?” — and has since partnered as a third co-owner of Tenacious Unicorn, as well as the resident permaculture expert. “I didn’t expect things to escalate this soon, but I did expect it would eventually get to these kinds of fights because of the accelerated nature of the crises we’re facing in America,” Stanley says. “Right-wing ideologues are the real face of America. It’s the historical legacy of settler colonialism, and if you just leave, you’re going to find the same people in another place. At some point, you just have to make a stand.”


Buoyed by their community’s support, Tenacious Unicorn is seeking new ways to leverage their strength. Logue is excited about working on the front line to find and help vulnerable trans people around southern Colorado, following tips from local advocates and people on Facebook. She has photos on her phone documenting a recent case in which she and others drove to a campground littered with white supremacist graffiti to find a frail woman, alone and delirious, with a broken foot.
The long-term plans are shifting, too. They’ve nixed previous goals to expand the ranch on site, instead shifting their fundraised dollars to support a new rural project for indigenous queer people in Arizona, in a similar model to Tenacious Unicorn. And as these early partnerships continue to grow, Nelson says they want to help facilitate a network of safe spaces across the country.
“We’re here to stay. It took us a month to move into this house. I’m never moving again,” Nelson declares. “This is my home; my community is out here. There’s so many people in town that I’ve come to know and appreciate and love. Others who need protection, too. I’m not leaving.”
https://melmagazine.com/en-us/story/tenacious-unicorn-ranch-colorado
https://archive.md/SKsYp
 
New Tenacious Unicorn Ranch article from something called "MEL Magazine".
View attachment 2413261
Well played, Earl.
View attachment 2413266

ALT-RIGHT COLORADANS WENT TO WAR WITH AN ALPACA FARM — AND THE FARM WON​

For nearly nine months, Tenacious Unicorn Ranch, a safe haven for trans and queer Coloradans, faced violent threats from right-wing extremists. Until, that is, they turned to their local anarchists for help.

First came the death threats on Facebook, with a stream of anonymous voices threatening to burn down the ranch and take all the guns. Then came the tails — unfamiliar trucks following them, usually for miles at a time, all the way home.
But the final straw came the evening of March 5th, when two groups of men quietly traversed the quarter-mile dirt road to the front gate of the ranch. One pair were caught by the night guard around midnight, fiddling with the light and lock on the gate. Several hours later, two more people clambered across a field, flanking toward the main house. “Our guy James [a pseudonym] spotted them. He hit them with a spotlight, and told them, ‘Remove yourselves, or die.’ And they ran like jackrabbits. I credit him for potentially saving our lives that night,” Penny Logue tells me. “It was a literal wake-up call.”
Logue, 40, is an Army vet with wavy blond hair and the confident air of a person who’s seen some shit, but she grimaces as she recalls the trespassing incident. She is the founder and co-owner of Tenacious Unicorn Ranch, a livestock farm on 40 acres of land that’s also a self-sufficient sanctuary for trans and queer people who need a place to stay and work. Set on the golden plains near the town of Westcliffe, Colorado, it’s a one-of-a-kind venue for a project that’s inspired both scrutiny and solidarity from allies and critics across the country.
Tenacious Unicorn has all the trappings of a farm — nearly 200 alpaca and dozens of sheep, plus ducks, chickens, dogs and cats — but also a ton of gear you don’t normally see in an agricultural setting: a scoped rifle, a couple of AR-15s, pistols, bulletproof vests and enough ammunition to launch a hunting expedition. Some days, amid the bleating of the alpaca, you can hear the distinct ping of 5.56 rounds hitting metal as the ranch hands drill long-range shooting in the backyard.


Logue and Bonnie Nelson, 34, came here two years ago. They now live at the ranch full time, along with 29-year-old J Stanley and Nelson’s husband, Sky. The home can comfortably fit a dozen people, making it a tranquil refuge in uncertain territory: Westcliffe is deeply conservative, and Logue is keenly aware of the Oath Keepers, Three Percenters and other right-wing agitators who roam this part of Colorado.
The nighttime trespass was the crest of a violent wave that began to swell on July 4, 2020, when Logue and Nelson witnessed a protest in Westcliffe while drinking coffee. The annual parade had been canceled due to the pandemic, but that didn’t stop local conservatives from congregating. The coterie included men holding Three Percenter banners, shirts supporting “white lives” and reams of MAGA gear. Incensed, Logue took to Twitter to write that the Fourth of July protest in Westcliffe was full of “Nazi propaganda.”
After that, the harassment took off.
“I came to Penny vehemently anti-gun, but after that Fourth of July protest and everything that happened, I bought the biggest rifle I could get my hands on,” Nelson says with a chuckle.
In addition to being trans, Logue, Nelson and Stanley are self-identifying anarchists, which has made them a particular threat to some observers (including a local blog that righteously deemed Tenacious Unicorn “left-wing fascism… xenophobes full of hate and obsessed with violence”). More than anything, though, their philosophy is one of self-reliance.
Logue and fellow ranchers don’t trust local law enforcement, telling me that they feel uneasy because of a few negative encounters with deputies coupled with Custer County Sheriff Shannon Byerly’s own behavior, which includes lying about the group’s behavior to the media and his admission that he spoke at an Oath Keepers rally.
In an email, Byerly says that his office hasn’t contacted the ranch since the spring, but hopes the members will report any threats. “Early on, there were a couple of instances where ‘anonymous’ sources called to complain about the way the animals on the ranch were being treated and a deputy went out there one time. We found the animals were all in very good care and so we haven’t listened to any other complaints against the folks there,” he writes.
Nonetheless, five months after the attack, Logue says a sense of calm has returned to the ranch. She attributes that calm to the silver lining of the chaos: When Tenacious Unicorn started posting and tweeting about the incursion in March, allies emerged from the woodwork almost immediately, enthusiastic to join the fray and fight back. Dozens of people from across Colorado and beyond, many of them anti-fascists and anarchists, reached out to Logue to volunteer for guard duty. Some sympathetic strangers sent money to pay for cameras and new fencing along the exposed edges of the ranch. Others delivered body armor, ammunition and gun accessories, such as Chris Bilynsky, a 39-year-old blacksmith in Kansas, who drove to Tenacious Unicorn to deliver handmade bulletproof plates and first-aid kits.
“Given the violence toward trans people, and how it’s increasing, it just felt like an important group to assist. Penny, Bonnie and everyone there are doing important work, and from an anarchist perspective, I think rural areas of America are ripe for positive change,” Bilynsky explains.
Tenacious Unicorn readied for the worst, with a stockpile of bulletproof plates and plentiful ammunition. So far, however, the best defense has been solidarity, not bullets. Logue remains cowed by the sheer volume and enthusiasm of people who reached out to help. (Some of the outreach was completely unexpected. “A lot of Boogaloo folks reached out to us. We had to say no, although the gesture was, err, hugely appreciated,” Logue says with a shrug.)
“It’s been insanely humbling, to say the least,” adds Logue. “These networks for support weren’t ready before the massive 2020 summer of protest. People would’ve been sympathetic to our cause, and we might’ve gotten donations, but the on-the-ground mobilization wouldn’t have been possible.”
For more than a month after the March incident, a four-person volunteer team patrolled the ranch every night, serving as a visible and armed deterrent for anyone watching with binoculars. Nowadays, the security regimen has relaxed a bit — but everyone sleeps easier knowing that help can, and will, arrive.


In an America hostile to queer and trans people, the ranch is evolving into a rare, radical blueprint for securing agency and joy in wide-open rural spaces through strong community support. The timing couldn’t be more urgent, with homelessness and violence rising sharply in the trans community in recent years. It’s what propelled Nelson to join Penny as a co-owner in the endeavor just months after joining the ranch.
“It’s a very hard life to be trans by yourself. I started to transition ten and a half years ago, and I had zero community until I left New York and joined this place,” Nelson says. “I don’t think Penny knew whether I’d be useful, [but] the ranch gave me a job, a home, and a way to help other trans people up.”
The ranch is sustained partly through selling wool from its alpaca and sheep herds, but the trio also conduct off-ranch work around Westcliffe and southern Colorado, tackling repairs, landscaping and other odd jobs for cash. Over time, they’ve grown a loyal clientele — some of whom even reached out privately to warn them about angry threats they’ve heard in town or read online.
These flirtations with violence don’t phase Stanley, 29, who joined Tenacious Unicorn in spring of last year after falling out with her family in North Texas. Stanley discovered the ranch via replies to her offhand tweet — “Trans commune when?” — and has since partnered as a third co-owner of Tenacious Unicorn, as well as the resident permaculture expert. “I didn’t expect things to escalate this soon, but I did expect it would eventually get to these kinds of fights because of the accelerated nature of the crises we’re facing in America,” Stanley says. “Right-wing ideologues are the real face of America. It’s the historical legacy of settler colonialism, and if you just leave, you’re going to find the same people in another place. At some point, you just have to make a stand.”


Buoyed by their community’s support, Tenacious Unicorn is seeking new ways to leverage their strength. Logue is excited about working on the front line to find and help vulnerable trans people around southern Colorado, following tips from local advocates and people on Facebook. She has photos on her phone documenting a recent case in which she and others drove to a campground littered with white supremacist graffiti to find a frail woman, alone and delirious, with a broken foot.
The long-term plans are shifting, too. They’ve nixed previous goals to expand the ranch on site, instead shifting their fundraised dollars to support a new rural project for indigenous queer people in Arizona, in a similar model to Tenacious Unicorn. And as these early partnerships continue to grow, Nelson says they want to help facilitate a network of safe spaces across the country.
“We’re here to stay. It took us a month to move into this house. I’m never moving again,” Nelson declares. “This is my home; my community is out here. There’s so many people in town that I’ve come to know and appreciate and love. Others who need protection, too. I’m not leaving.”
https://melmagazine.com/en-us/story/tenacious-unicorn-ranch-colorado
https://archive.md/SKsYp
MEL: Manish Effeminate Losers?
 
New Tenacious Unicorn Ranch article from something called "MEL Magazine".
View attachment 2413261
Well played, Earl.
View attachment 2413266

ALT-RIGHT COLORADANS WENT TO WAR WITH AN ALPACA FARM — AND THE FARM WON​

For nearly nine months, Tenacious Unicorn Ranch, a safe haven for trans and queer Coloradans, faced violent threats from right-wing extremists. Until, that is, they turned to their local anarchists for help.

First came the death threats on Facebook, with a stream of anonymous voices threatening to burn down the ranch and take all the guns. Then came the tails — unfamiliar trucks following them, usually for miles at a time, all the way home.
But the final straw came the evening of March 5th, when two groups of men quietly traversed the quarter-mile dirt road to the front gate of the ranch. One pair were caught by the night guard around midnight, fiddling with the light and lock on the gate. Several hours later, two more people clambered across a field, flanking toward the main house. “Our guy James [a pseudonym] spotted them. He hit them with a spotlight, and told them, ‘Remove yourselves, or die.’ And they ran like jackrabbits. I credit him for potentially saving our lives that night,” Penny Logue tells me. “It was a literal wake-up call.”
Logue, 40, is an Army vet with wavy blond hair and the confident air of a person who’s seen some shit, but she grimaces as she recalls the trespassing incident. She is the founder and co-owner of Tenacious Unicorn Ranch, a livestock farm on 40 acres of land that’s also a self-sufficient sanctuary for trans and queer people who need a place to stay and work. Set on the golden plains near the town of Westcliffe, Colorado, it’s a one-of-a-kind venue for a project that’s inspired both scrutiny and solidarity from allies and critics across the country.
Tenacious Unicorn has all the trappings of a farm — nearly 200 alpaca and dozens of sheep, plus ducks, chickens, dogs and cats — but also a ton of gear you don’t normally see in an agricultural setting: a scoped rifle, a couple of AR-15s, pistols, bulletproof vests and enough ammunition to launch a hunting expedition. Some days, amid the bleating of the alpaca, you can hear the distinct ping of 5.56 rounds hitting metal as the ranch hands drill long-range shooting in the backyard.


Logue and Bonnie Nelson, 34, came here two years ago. They now live at the ranch full time, along with 29-year-old J Stanley and Nelson’s husband, Sky. The home can comfortably fit a dozen people, making it a tranquil refuge in uncertain territory: Westcliffe is deeply conservative, and Logue is keenly aware of the Oath Keepers, Three Percenters and other right-wing agitators who roam this part of Colorado.
The nighttime trespass was the crest of a violent wave that began to swell on July 4, 2020, when Logue and Nelson witnessed a protest in Westcliffe while drinking coffee. The annual parade had been canceled due to the pandemic, but that didn’t stop local conservatives from congregating. The coterie included men holding Three Percenter banners, shirts supporting “white lives” and reams of MAGA gear. Incensed, Logue took to Twitter to write that the Fourth of July protest in Westcliffe was full of “Nazi propaganda.”
After that, the harassment took off.
“I came to Penny vehemently anti-gun, but after that Fourth of July protest and everything that happened, I bought the biggest rifle I could get my hands on,” Nelson says with a chuckle.
In addition to being trans, Logue, Nelson and Stanley are self-identifying anarchists, which has made them a particular threat to some observers (including a local blog that righteously deemed Tenacious Unicorn “left-wing fascism… xenophobes full of hate and obsessed with violence”). More than anything, though, their philosophy is one of self-reliance.
Logue and fellow ranchers don’t trust local law enforcement, telling me that they feel uneasy because of a few negative encounters with deputies coupled with Custer County Sheriff Shannon Byerly’s own behavior, which includes lying about the group’s behavior to the media and his admission that he spoke at an Oath Keepers rally.
In an email, Byerly says that his office hasn’t contacted the ranch since the spring, but hopes the members will report any threats. “Early on, there were a couple of instances where ‘anonymous’ sources called to complain about the way the animals on the ranch were being treated and a deputy went out there one time. We found the animals were all in very good care and so we haven’t listened to any other complaints against the folks there,” he writes.
Nonetheless, five months after the attack, Logue says a sense of calm has returned to the ranch. She attributes that calm to the silver lining of the chaos: When Tenacious Unicorn started posting and tweeting about the incursion in March, allies emerged from the woodwork almost immediately, enthusiastic to join the fray and fight back. Dozens of people from across Colorado and beyond, many of them anti-fascists and anarchists, reached out to Logue to volunteer for guard duty. Some sympathetic strangers sent money to pay for cameras and new fencing along the exposed edges of the ranch. Others delivered body armor, ammunition and gun accessories, such as Chris Bilynsky, a 39-year-old blacksmith in Kansas, who drove to Tenacious Unicorn to deliver handmade bulletproof plates and first-aid kits.
“Given the violence toward trans people, and how it’s increasing, it just felt like an important group to assist. Penny, Bonnie and everyone there are doing important work, and from an anarchist perspective, I think rural areas of America are ripe for positive change,” Bilynsky explains.
Tenacious Unicorn readied for the worst, with a stockpile of bulletproof plates and plentiful ammunition. So far, however, the best defense has been solidarity, not bullets. Logue remains cowed by the sheer volume and enthusiasm of people who reached out to help. (Some of the outreach was completely unexpected. “A lot of Boogaloo folks reached out to us. We had to say no, although the gesture was, err, hugely appreciated,” Logue says with a shrug.)
“It’s been insanely humbling, to say the least,” adds Logue. “These networks for support weren’t ready before the massive 2020 summer of protest. People would’ve been sympathetic to our cause, and we might’ve gotten donations, but the on-the-ground mobilization wouldn’t have been possible.”
For more than a month after the March incident, a four-person volunteer team patrolled the ranch every night, serving as a visible and armed deterrent for anyone watching with binoculars. Nowadays, the security regimen has relaxed a bit — but everyone sleeps easier knowing that help can, and will, arrive.


In an America hostile to queer and trans people, the ranch is evolving into a rare, radical blueprint for securing agency and joy in wide-open rural spaces through strong community support. The timing couldn’t be more urgent, with homelessness and violence rising sharply in the trans community in recent years. It’s what propelled Nelson to join Penny as a co-owner in the endeavor just months after joining the ranch.
“It’s a very hard life to be trans by yourself. I started to transition ten and a half years ago, and I had zero community until I left New York and joined this place,” Nelson says. “I don’t think Penny knew whether I’d be useful, [but] the ranch gave me a job, a home, and a way to help other trans people up.”
The ranch is sustained partly through selling wool from its alpaca and sheep herds, but the trio also conduct off-ranch work around Westcliffe and southern Colorado, tackling repairs, landscaping and other odd jobs for cash. Over time, they’ve grown a loyal clientele — some of whom even reached out privately to warn them about angry threats they’ve heard in town or read online.
These flirtations with violence don’t phase Stanley, 29, who joined Tenacious Unicorn in spring of last year after falling out with her family in North Texas. Stanley discovered the ranch via replies to her offhand tweet — “Trans commune when?” — and has since partnered as a third co-owner of Tenacious Unicorn, as well as the resident permaculture expert. “I didn’t expect things to escalate this soon, but I did expect it would eventually get to these kinds of fights because of the accelerated nature of the crises we’re facing in America,” Stanley says. “Right-wing ideologues are the real face of America. It’s the historical legacy of settler colonialism, and if you just leave, you’re going to find the same people in another place. At some point, you just have to make a stand.”


Buoyed by their community’s support, Tenacious Unicorn is seeking new ways to leverage their strength. Logue is excited about working on the front line to find and help vulnerable trans people around southern Colorado, following tips from local advocates and people on Facebook. She has photos on her phone documenting a recent case in which she and others drove to a campground littered with white supremacist graffiti to find a frail woman, alone and delirious, with a broken foot.
The long-term plans are shifting, too. They’ve nixed previous goals to expand the ranch on site, instead shifting their fundraised dollars to support a new rural project for indigenous queer people in Arizona, in a similar model to Tenacious Unicorn. And as these early partnerships continue to grow, Nelson says they want to help facilitate a network of safe spaces across the country.
“We’re here to stay. It took us a month to move into this house. I’m never moving again,” Nelson declares. “This is my home; my community is out here. There’s so many people in town that I’ve come to know and appreciate and love. Others who need protection, too. I’m not leaving.”
https://melmagazine.com/en-us/story/tenacious-unicorn-ranch-colorado
https://archive.md/SKsYp

Does anyone actually believe this shit?
 
Weird how the heavily armed tacticool anarchist commune patrolling with firearms and doing active drills and 'operations' is very peaceful but the small town right-wing Christians are evil and aggressive.

You ever stop to think about why they voted for Trump? I don't know about THIS specific areas and I'm not gonna powerlevel here but I know things and I know that a lot of these towns have perfectly fine people who just thought Trump was a way out of being left behind and that he was the only one that'd help him. Do a lot of them approve of their transgenderism? You know what? Probably not. Are any of these folks gonna bother 'em? No, actually.

For every right-wing dipshit that gets into the media for making a fuss is hundreds if not thousands of people who are perfectly polite and keep to themselves. It's usually, "I'll pray for you and I'm here if you need to talk and you can come to church with us if you change your mind", not, "I'm gonna fucking beat you to death, faggot".

Plus it's Colorado. Like come the fuck on. Hostile territory my ass.
 
More than anything, though, their philosophy is one of self-reliance.
laugh.gif
She has photos on her phone documenting a recent case in which she and others drove to a campground littered with white supremacist graffiti to find a frail woman, alone and delirious, with a broken foot.
These are new details, right?
 
The long-term plans are shifting, too. They’ve nixed previous goals to expand the ranch on site, instead shifting their fundraised dollars to support a new rural project for indigenous queer people in Arizona, in a similar model to Tenacious Unicorn. And as these early partnerships continue to grow, Nelson says they want to help facilitate a network of safe spaces across the country.

It looks like they're not going to buy the Troonship after all. I guess they pissed away all their GoFundMe grift bucks on toys for the boys. I'm guessing they mean support in every way apart from giving money. Someone should warn the Arizona lot that 'free' alpacas cost a lot of 'money' to keep alive. I'm a little disappointed now, as I thought that the Earthship would be their version of the Kirstie Alley years.
 
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