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#adam toledo
zioquos · 1 month
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hello, so i think we should talk about HOW FUCKING MUCH famous prophets stars by csh is soooo trc coded i mean-
1 - blue with her prophecy
2 - adam about his dad..
3 - gansey about blue on de bllb when they hang out with gansey's car
4 - noah and how he'll never had his teenage hands again, and his legs, and his arms and et cetera..
5 - ronan about his house and aurora and nial !!!!
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i actually can see a lot of trc core stuff on will's songs i NEED to talk about that with someone bc t
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azraelsghost · 2 months
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in my head adam lanza and the band car seat headrest and inextricably linked and i have no idea why
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lunaesolis · 1 year
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youtube
Rights do not belong to me.
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roysexton · 1 year
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I’ve arrived.
I’ve arrived. 😊 I’m a “top ten legal marketing read in 2018!” In all seriousness, I’m proud to be on this JD Supra list alongside stellar folks like Amber Bollman (one of my first Legal Marketing Association buddies), Yolanda Cartusciello, Morgan Ribeiro, Stefanie Marrone (cookies!), Gregory Fleischmann, Ryan King, my sister in mischief Laura Toledo, Sheenika Gandhi, Adam Hopkins, Erin West, and…
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feminist-space · 2 years
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"Yes, you read that right: Chicago is spending $33 million to build fake housing and commercial buildings in an overpoliced community that could really use their actual, real-life equivalents. No Cop Academy organizer Destiny Ball laid it out plainly to Block Club Chicago: “To find out that they’re building a scenario village when there are thousands of people, homeless, with nowhere to go … it’s sickening.”
Architecture sometimes lays bare the contradictions in urban life, but rarely does it do so this explicitly, if not mockingly. A first phase of the training campus is nearly done, and the “tactical village” will begin construction this summer. The campus, which rises on the site of a former rail yard, will replace seven facilities currently in use. The second phase will be built by a joint venture of Berglund and Brown & Momen. The City’s website lists the design architect as DLR Group. The company recently published a blog post in which Andrew Cupples defended its work on juvenile justice systems, claiming that DLR remains “undeterred in the belief that design excellence contributes to better outcomes for youth who enter the justice system.”
“Justice system,” to this critic, reads as a remarkable euphemism for a place to detain children. Incredibly, the City lists the project as part of Mayor Lori Lightfoot’s INVEST South/West platform which seeks to direct about $1.4 billion in funding to previously underdeveloped neighborhoods.
The City neglects its citizens—especially its Black and Brown ones—before policing them with militarized tactics. This is, after all, the police force that was found to be using “black site” tactics—essentially kidnapping and torturing civilians at Homan Square, a property it owned on the West Side—until an exposé in The Guardian in 2015 spelled its demise. This is the police force whose officers shot 13-year-old Adam Toledo to death in 2021 and paralyzed another unidentified 13-year-old boy just a few weeks ago. These are the law enforcement officers who have made arrests in only 6 percent of rape cases. Per Alex Vitale’s book The End of Policing, this is the police department that arrested 8,000 Black schoolchildren, more than half of whom were under 15, in 2013–14 alone.
Chicago suppresses funding for housing, schools, environmental remediation, public health, and transit, but it generously funds cops. This is not only ineffective, given the statistics and reality of police brutality, but immoral.
Any architect who participates in realizing the carceral program of police surveillance and terror is complicit. Architects often characterize their work as impartial, but the reality is that the form of the built environment is regularly weaponized by those in power. Architects are moral actors who have the agency—individually, but especially collectively—to see a project like this and decline to participate.
At times, activism comes in the form of saying yes to certain advances, but in this case it more powerfully comes in saying no. This denial of service can come in the form of whistleblowing to journalists, organizing political resistance among your peers, or finding a new job. After George Floyd’s murder in 2020, when Michael Ford (the hip-hop architect) learned that his then employer SmithGroup was to work on civic buildings with holding facilities, he left. In the fall of 2020, AIA New York attempted to discourage members from working on spaces of incarceration. The work of Colloqate explicitly demands the end of architects working on behalf of police and provides alternative solutions for reallocating police funds toward endeavors rooted in community building and racial justice.
Architecture exists at the all-important nexus where political ambition is given form. Resistance to terrible carceral projects from architectural firms matters—if no one draws the plans, the efforts stall. Sure, someone else can do it, but the broad systemic woes of capitalism don’t excuse us—mere individuals—from living ethical lives. It is unethical to work on a project that will be used to oppress and terrify Chicagoans, just as it is a project of criticism to be explicit about architecture’s role in surveillance, police expansion, and, by extension, urban policies that govern by force, not by support. So, to the leaders of architecture offices who are currently overseeing construction documents for a fake strip club in western Chicago, I see you. The architecture world sees you. You can and should do better than this."
-Kate Wagner is an architecture critic and a journalist.
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i-hear-a-sound · 7 months
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was anyone else going to tell me adam’s copied city is almost directly tied to the cathedral city from drakengard 3 or was I supposed to accidentally find that in a Reddit post
-> is what I’m talking about btw. Compare this tower from CC
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to the real life toledo, Spain, where drakengard 3’s cathedral city is placed in-universe
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hermmm
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fatehbaz · 1 year
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From Atlanta to Chicago [...]. These cop cities are training grounds for police violence and must be dismantled to restore a world where life is precious.
In a stunning yet utterly predictable act, Chicago’s “cop academy” has officially opened on the West Side complete with a ribbon-cutting in front of fake street signs and fake housing.
In a city reeling from extreme poverty, a lack of affordable housing, myriad environmental injustices, food apartheid, [...] and in a city where at least 65,000 people are experiencing homelessness, the leadership of the city of Chicago spent $128 million to build fake homes on the city’s resource-starved West Side where officers can practice the violence and brutality that they will mete out to Chicago residents.
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In a disturbing photo, Mayor Lightfoot, [...] Fire Commissioner Nance-Holt and others smile while cutting a red ribbon, proud to have brought this into being. Adding insult to injury, the thirty-two-acre cop academy was built on the city’s West Side, where decades of racist policy (such as redlining and other housing discrimination and disinvestment) by the city government in this majority-nonwhite community have already given way to poverty and population loss. (In just one example, the Rahm Emanuel administration closed half of the West Side’s mental health clinics in 2012, then shuttered numerous West Side schools in his historic closure of fifty schools in 2013.) [...]
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Lest there be any doubt as to whether or not West Siders actually want this cop academy, in 2018 the organizers of the No Cop Academy campaign polled West Garfield Park residents [...]. 95 percent recommended that the city invest in something else - beyond the Chicago Police Department [...]
What kind of society eagerly spends millions of dollars to build fake neighborhoods, but cannot muster the funds to provide actual housing for the unhoused? What kind of society would rather stage and practice violence than provide mental health resources or violence interruption to communities reeling from it everyday? Unfortunately, such questions arise on a routine basis in this city.
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And it is not only in this city. [...] For Chicago, like so many cities across the US, we must remember that policing is not a “rational” response to something called “crime.” Instead, it is a war on poor people (particularly Black and Brown poor people). As Ruth Wilson Gilmore argues, this war treats incarceration as a solution to social and economic ills while conveniently stripping poor and working-class people of color of their political rights and autonomy. [...]
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Additionally, in a cynical move decried by Chicago youth organizers, a chapter of the Boys and Girls Club is set to open at the facility. This is despite Chicago having the second most killings by police of youth under eighteen in the country, and despite several high-profile CPD murders of youth such as thirteen-year-old Adam Toledo and twenty-two-year-old Anthony Alvarez just in the last few years. [...]
They want a fake village where no one lives or thrives. They spend millions on a theme park to practice surveilling, policing, and controlling people. This vision can never be a home for anyone, and thus the Cop Academy should have no place in our city if we are to make Chicago, someday, a true home for its residents. [...]
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We must refuse to allow such sadism to become normalized, and continue to make clear in the face of a city leadership which laughs, that, as Ruth Wilson Gilmore says, “where life is precious, life is precious.” [...]
Like the brave protesters facing off against the horrific violence of Atlanta’s proposed Cop City, organizers in Chicago have fought a valiant campaign against the cop academy since it was first proposed during the Emanuel administration. The No Cop Academy campaign, led by Black youth across the city, has led countless protests and actions and was endorsed by more than 100 organizations. [...]
Though the structures have been built, the fight against the cop academy (as well as similar projects in Atlanta and elsewhere) must continue: we must transform every fake cop neighborhood into real, affordable housing and vibrant neighborhoods where every person has what they need to thrive.
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Text by: Nisha Atalie. “From Atlanta to Chicago, Cop Cities Breed Violence.” Rampant Magazine. 30 January 2023. [Italicized first paragraph in this post is directly quoted from the title and subheading printed alongside the article at Rampant.]
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csharchive · 1 year
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Will Toledo with Adam Stilson recording Twin Fantasy in 2018
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the harder the rain, honey the sweeter the sun
Fandom: AP Bio
Pairing: Jack Griffin/Lynette Hofstadter
Prompt: Motion Sickness
Jack gets motion sick. That's it.
(TW for vomit)
Read here or below the cut
“Ralph, if you do not let me sit at the front of this goddamn bus I swear I’m going home right now.”
Jack’s late to the school trip, because of course he is, and Lynette watches him from her window seat at the back of the bus with a bemused smile on her face. He's stood outside directly facing Durbin, arms crossed like an army staff sergeant even as his entitled behaviour spills over into brat territory. He apparently wants to sit at the front. Bad. 
“I’m sorry, Jack, but you arrived nearly-” Durbin checks his watch. “Half an hour after you were supposed to get here- if you'd been here on time, I might have been able to get you a seat near the front, but I'm afraid there's nothing I can do now.”
Jack huffs exasperatedly, turning to glare at his front-seated opponents. “Half the kids up there could easily swap seats to somewhere further up the bus. It's ridiculous.”
Durbin shrugs. “Maybe, but they're all settled now. You’ll cause commotion if you try to change them all around like that. You know how many rivalries there are in high school, Jack? Hundreds.”
“I don't care whether they declare world war three because of me, Ralph! Just move them around!”
But for once, Durbin is putting his foot down. He shakes his head, and gestures to the door of the bus. 
“Not possible. Now c’mon, man. Go sit down before you make things harder than they have to be.”
Lynette can tell Jack is pissed- he has that same vein popping in his neck which appears when someone criticises Henry David Thoreau. Still, he seems to consider admitting defeat on the bus front preferable to embarrassing himself by pushing it further, so with flaming cheeks he storms up the steps and down the aisle towards her. The moment he flops into the seat next to her, she arches a brow. 
“Is it so bad sitting next to me?”
He sighs. Shakes his head gently, even as tension remains in every limb. “It’s not that, Lyns. I would’ve got you to sit next to me wherever in the bus we ended up.”
She frowns. “So? What's the big deal with sitting back here then?”
There's a split second where Jack’s cheeks flush even redder, right before he composes himself and shrugs. 
“It’s… it’s nothing. Just- you get a better view from the front, s’all.”
A better view? She’s not about to press it, but God is he particularly bad at lying today.
The engine soon starts to rumble, and Durbin stands at the front of the bus to begin his spiel about seatbelts and behaviour. They’re going to the Toledo Museum of Art, not MOMA, but evidently the future reputation of Whitlock is at stake here. Durbin means business. 
Jack seems a little distanced during the speech, which is to be expected. Lynette catches him fiddling with his buckle for a while, shifting in his seat to get comfortable, rummaging around in his bag, etc etc. At one point, she reaches out a hand to catch his, hovering as it is over a bracelet on his other arm that he's been slingshotting against his skin for a minute straight. 
“Hey, you’re gonna hurt yourself if you're not careful.” She chides gently. 
Jack doesn't say anything, merely rouges a little further and pulls his sweater secretively over his wrist so the bracelet is no longer visible. Huh. Odd. 
“Alright,” Durbin finishes, clapping his hands together. “Let’s get this show on the road!”
He swings round to sit down, and almost immediately the bus lurches forward. Lynette doesn't miss the way Jack’s hands leap out to grab hold of the edges of his seat (even if he does pull them away again almost as soon as they find purchase). 
She raises an eyebrow in silent question, but he keeps his gaze forwards, Adam's apple bobbing. If she were a betting woman, she'd wager that something's bothering him. 
If only she knew what it was. 
The first ten minutes of the journey Jack spends with his eyes shut, hands fidgeting in his lap. He flinches at the occasional bump in the road but other than that? He's still as a statue. 
Things take a turn around the twenty minute mark, though. He opens his eyes, and there's a slight flash of panic in them- one that he conceals well except when they roll over yet another speed bump, at which point his pupils dilate with obvious fear and his hands reach down again to grip at his seat. His moments of stillness are over, too. Now, he’s shifting uncomfortably in his seat like no position is bearable for his old bones. Lynette grins. 
“These Toledo roads too juddery for you, old man? You look like you're worried you're gonna step off with bruises.”
Jack wears an unbelievably fake smile for a second, until another pothole wipes it clean off his face- as well as, apparently, every ounce of colour.
The flush on his cheeks has completely disappeared, replaced by an uncanny pallor that Lynette has only seen on him once, when he was so sick with the flu he couldn't even hold his own head up. She frowns.
“You alright?”
He nods, too quick to be sincere, then hurriedly leans down to rummage through the bag at his feet. From it he withdraws a little orange pill bottle, pours a few into his hand, and tips them back shakily. Follows it up with a meagre sip of water.
Lynette spies the label just before he shoves the bottle right back down into the bag.
Dramamine.
Oh. Oh.
He must notice her expression change, because he suddenly looks at her imploringly. Desperately. She expects him to tell her they need to pull over, but instead he swallows, appearing more nauseated by the second, and murmurs,
“Please- please don't tell anyone.”
Lynette's heart breaks a little.
“Oh, hon, you know that I’d never tell anybody something you didn't want them to know… still, do you want me to go see if Durbin can get a seat change?” Jack’s eyes widen, and she puts a reassuring hand on his arm. “Look, I know you don't want him to know, but I’m sure that if he understood the reasoning behind you wanting a seat near the front, he might… Jack?”
She realises far too late that his eyes widening was not in fact a response to her suggestion, but instead a far more dire warning.
Now, he closes them entirely, trembling a little as he breathes rhythmically. There's sweat beading on the back of his neck.
“M… think I’m gonna be sick…” he murmurs weakly.
It's hardly a surprise. He's so pale now that it's even clear to some kids across the aisle that Mr Griffin? He isn't feeling so hot.
Lynette swears under her breath. Unbuckles her belt.
“Alright, hold on, Jack, just hold on- I’m gonna go tell the driver to stop, okay?”
As she stands, he gropes shakily about the air for her arm, before finding and clutching it.
“W-wait, Lyns, don't go.” His eyes remain squeezed shut. His other hand keeps that vice-like grip on his seat.
Lynette feels truly sorry for him. God, she does. She can see kids from further away in the bus starting to gossip now- after all, she's stood, and her boyfriend is holding her arm like it's the only thing keeping him tethered to this realm while he swallows convulsively.
“I gotta get the driver, sweetheart, but I promise I'll be back.”
She reaches up to briefly swipe her thumb along the jut of his cheekbone; watches him melt, shuddering, into the touch before she reluctantly pulls away and hurries into the aisle. The bus continues thundering along the roads, sending her teetering this way and that while she tries to move forward in a way that makes even her queasy. She dreads to think how Jack’s holding up with the movement.
Eventually, she reaches the front. Durbin is sat talking to Helen, but he trails off when he sees Lynette approaching the driver.
“Ms Hofstadter? What are you doing?”
She ignores him. There isn't time for explanatory remarks.
“Excuse me, driver?”
The guy’s wearing shades and a little earpiece (way too high-end for goddamn Toledo) and at first he doesn't seem to hear her, so she clears her throat and tries again.
“Excuse me? Driver?”
He starts, eyes flitting from the road to her desperate expression.
“Uh, can I help you?”
“I need you to pull over.”
Durbin leans forward to tap her on the shoulder.
“Uh, Miss Hofstadter, I’m afraid we can't just-”
“Ralph, it's important.”
“-stop the bus for every whim, we'll be there soon and-”
“Ralph.” Lynette says brusquely, turning to look at him. “If we don't stop this bus right now, Jack is going to… Ralph… everywhere.”
Durbin frowns, mouthing the words as if to make sense of them. It takes a few seconds, but soon his own eyes are widening with realisation.
“He’s…?”
“Motion sick.” Lynette confirms with a nod. “And he's not looking good back there, Durbs. We have to pull over. Now.”
Thankfully, Durbin sighs. Nods to the driver, who's been listening in to the conversation and looks pretty damn eager to spare his bus from the havoc which could ensue if he doesn't follow Lynette's instructions.
The moment she knows the bus is starting to slow, she speedwalks back up the aisle towards Jack, who’s now hunched over, whole body trembling slightly. He has a fist held to his mouth, the other arm now slung protectively around his stomach.
“Hey, sweetheart?” She crouches down next to him in the aisle, uncaring that everybody’s eyes are now on them. “Jack?”
She rubs him gently on the arm and he rears his head, looking utterly miserable.
“We’re pulling over now.” She soothes, stroking the wispy hair at the back of his neck, damp with sweat. “Just a few more seconds and we can get off this bus, alright, hon?”
He closes his eyes again, groaning softly as at last the movement grinds to a halt.
“Alright, up we get, sweetheart. That’s it. Nice and slow.”
Clearly too sick to give a shit about how he's perceived, Jack lets Lynette half haul him up from his seat, her hand remaining on the small of his back as she walks him down the aisle of the bus towards the door. His steps are wobbly. Everything's still trembling.
By the time their shoes hit the asphalt, Jack’s footsteps grow more urgent, and Lynette follows him into the woods by the roadside. He’s clearly hoping to get far enough in that his unravelling isn't witnessed by the multitude of high schoolers only metres away, many now with their faces pressed against the glass to see what's happening. Unfortunately, though, his body isn't so kind as to let him get out of sight before he doubles over, retching painfully.
Lynette’s brow knits with concern. “Oh, Jack.”
Her hand moves to rub circles into his quivering back, all his muscles taut with anticipation. One of his fists is still held vaguely in front of his mouth, the other hand splayed out on his knee.
“It’s alright, hon. Just relax, okay? You’ll feel better afterwards, I promise.”
He shakes his head briefly, wordlessly, but immediately ducks back down again as his body makes another attempt at expelling everything in his stomach. This time it’s pretty successful, and Lynette turns her head away, eyes closing with sympathy at the sound of his breathless heaving.
“There we go. Good job, Jack. You’re doing so good, sweetheart.”
She continues to reassure him for another minute give or take, wincing every so often at how violent and painful everything appears to be, until at last it dissipates into panting and the gentler sound of Jack spitting into the dirt. 
Accompanied, at last, by a weak exhalation that sounds more like a sob. 
“It’s okay, sweetheart. You’re alright… Feel any better?”
Shakily, he pulls himself upright and swipes at his mouth with the back of his hand. Turns to her, tears of exertion and defeat running down his cheeks. 
Nods. 
“D-don’t feel so s-sick, just… just t-tired. And- and e-embarrassed.”
Lynette surreptitiously takes his hand. Squeezes it. “You have nothing to be embarrassed about, Jack. These things happen, right?”
“But the kids-”
“The kids have 15 second attention spans- they’ll see a sculpture that looks kinda like a penis at the museum and this’ll be a distant memory.”
Jack swallows, still shaky. “I- I guess.”
“You ready to head back to the bus, hon? Durbs is bound to let us sit near the front now, and you can take some more Dramamine as well. I’m pretty sure you puked up that other stuff.”
The tips of his ears redden slightly as he nods. He still looks mortified, but at least when Lynette gently tugs on his hand, he follows her back to the bus (even if he does avoid looking up at any of the windows). 
There's a lively buzz of chatter when they approach, but the moment they ascend the stairs, the whole vehicle sinks into silence. Jack’s grip on Lynette's hand tightens. 
“Hey, Jack.” Durbin says, voice soft. Lynette's sure this tone frustrates Jack more than anything. He isn't weak. He isn’t delicate. 
Well, maybe he is a little, but that's okay. It doesn't mean he needs to be spoken to like he's about to crumple at any moment. 
“I got a few of the kids to move.” Durbin continues. “Hopefully the seats up front’ll be, uh, better for you. Do you…” He looks up tentatively to Lynette now. “Does he need a bag or something? We carry a few for the travel sick kids but-”
Jack pulls away from Lynette and walks quickly to the new seats, ignoring Durbin’s small plea for him to hang on. Lynette watches him slink into the row of two seats that's now free and buckle himself into the one nearest the window, cheeks aflame and eyes fixed on the scenery outside. 
She turns back to Durbin. “I’ll take one of the bags just in case.” She says in a low voice, slipping the one she receives into her pocket. “But for the love of God don't compare Jack to a travel sick kid, and don’t speak about him like he isn't there.”
Durbin stammers. “I- I wasn’t trying to-”
Lynette sighs. “I know… I know. He’s just feeling a little sorry for himself, and the last thing he needs is more humiliation- even if it isn't intentional.”
She gives him a small smile to show she isn't really upset (her tone often slips into confrontational when Jack’s wellbeing is concerned) and quickly slips into the seat beside her boyfriend. He’s still looking blankly out the window, Adam's apple bobbing every so often to conceal the rising emotion. 
Carefully, she reaches down for his bag (already placed at his feet by a student- probably Heather) and retrieves the little bottle of Dramamine. She measures out a couple of pills and holds them in the palm of her outstretched hand for Jack.
“Hey. Sweetheart. Gonna take some more meds for me?”
He turns slowly towards her, cheeks still stained with tear tracks. Thankfully, he doesn't put up a fuss about the Dramamine- merely tips them back and settles into his seat. It's a clear sign that he's exhausted. 
“Here.” She offers him his bottle of water. “You know what I say about dry-swallowing shit. C’mon. Chase it down with something. I think you need the fluids anyway.”
His hands are still trembling when he takes the water bottle (it could be why he was reluctant to get it himself), and he swallows the sips extra cautiously like he's still afraid he’ll hurl at any moment. 
“Good job, Jack.” She whispers. 
At the front of the bus, Durbin stands up briefly, directing a questioning glance and a thumbs up towards Lynette.
We good to go?
She gives him a reciprocal thumbs up.
Good to go. 
In truth, she really isn't sure whether Jack is good to go. She doesn't know how travel sickness works, whether he's going to be fine now that he's got everything out of his system or whether the moment the engine starts back up again, she’ll need to reach for that bag in her pocket. What she does know, however, is that the longer they stay stopped here, the more Jack is going to feel the weight of everybody's eyes on his. The more the shame will grow. 
So she sits back as the bus rumbles to life, and reaches out to take his clammy hand in hers.
It doesn't take long for him to drift off- the medication, the stress, and pure physical exhaustion render sleep inevitable. He tries to fight it at first, perhaps still too self-conscious to submit to yet another display of ‘weakness’, but his blinks grow more languid by the second, and his breaths begin to slow of their own accord. The endless Ohio roads melt into one great snaking blob in the steadily misting window pane. 
His chin tips forward a few times, then jerks back up, before at last Lynette eases his head against her shoulder, squeezing his hand. 
“Go to sleep, sweetheart.” She murmurs into his ear as the kids chatter about nothing important around them. 
He sinks fully against her. Clearly, permission was all he needed. 
She snakes a hand around his back so she can wrap her arm around him and subtly stroke his hair. Pulls him even closer. Presses a kiss to his forehead. 
Half a mile down the road, they’ll arrive at their destination and the kids will file out of the bus. Some will pause in the aisle, curiosity piqued. 
“Is Mr Griffin alright?” They’ll whisper, touchingly conscious of keeping their voices down. 
Lynette will smile gently. “He hasn’t been feeling very well, that's all. He’ll be alright soon, I promise.”
They’ll nod their heads sympathetically, and soon will file off like the rest. Jack and Lynette will be left alone. Even the bus driver will abandon his post for the time being. 
Still, Jack will sleep. 
Still, Lynette will stay. 
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anarchotahdigism · 1 month
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Seattle, at Bruce Harrell's personal urging, is deploying new police surveillance around the city, including the nefarious and notoriously its unreliable Shotspotter, which police regularly use in other areas to justify deadly force and police response, as well as evidence tampering. Shotspotter allows police to update, modify, and delete its files and triggers on the fly as police decide.
"As an alerting system, ShotSpotter exacerbates police violence by sending police on high alert into our neighborhoods. A 2021 report by the Chicago Office of Inspector General showed that “evidence of a gun-related crime” was only found in “9.1% of CPD responses to ShotSpotter alerts”.
But for each of the other 90.9% of alerts, police are still dispatched. A video from 2023 showed a heavy SPD response to a 911 caller alleging shots fired, showing officers pointing their rifles toward an unarmed man in crisis. Officers finally left after a tense standoff with intervening community members. Every false positive is another possibly deadly encounter.
In Chicago, a ShotSpotter alert has already led to an officer shooting and killing 13-year-old Adam Toledo in 2021." ..... "
Just as concerning though, are the other two technologies the City is requesting: CCTV cameras and Real-Time Crime Center (RTCC) software.
The SIR proposes to not just install city-owned CCTV cameras, but also to allow “privately-owned security systems […] to voluntarily share video of storefronts and areas where the public has access” with the City. This would be a massive expansion of police surveillance, giving police potentially real-time surveillance video from any/every business concerned with petty theft or houseless people.
These feeds would then be integrated into Real-Time Crime Center software, which “provides a centralized location for real-time information and analysis” and “integrates dispatch, camera, officer location, gunshot detection, 911 calls, records management systems, and other information into one ‘pane of glass’ (a single view).”
Additionally, the RTCC software for CCTV cameras 'can also provide in-application video analytics that use machine-learned algorithms to analyze camera feeds and, using object recognition, locate specific items, people based on clothing, or vehicles based on description.' " Harrell, a proud Trump supporter, is entrusting a massive panopticon to the same police department that sent the most number of police officers to participate in the 1/06 insurrection and is one of the most brutal PDs in the US. SPD is a threat to Seattle, and with its regular training exchanges with the IOF, a threat to Palestinians as well.
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odinsblog · 2 years
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I keep thinking about how fast they murdered Tamir Rice. Less than two seconds on scene, before they could even put their car in park. Tamir’s skin color alone was all the justification police needed to use deadly force. Pretty much the same thing with Adam Toledo. Even knowing that white shooters have literally killed people and the shooter is still armed, cops will bend over backwards to see their “humanity” and take them in alive.
And it’s not just the race of the active shooter that matters to the police—it’s also the demographics of the neighborhood and the race of the victims that plays a large part in deciding which mass shooters get taken to Burger King, and which ones get executed on sight.
Anyway
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Entitled racist white women are absolutely capable of extreme violence.
Y'all just don't care about that because recognizing how you contribute to the white heteronormative patriarchy means admitting you're no different than misogynists.
Tweet by @/jaimetoons that says "A white couple call the police on me, a person of color, for stencilling a hashtag BLM chalk message on my own front retaining wall. 'Karen' lies and says she knows that I don't live in my own house, because she knows the person who lives here. Hashtag black lives matter."
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White woman takes two hammers to a neighbor's car:
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White woman makes false accusations of assault:
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I'm not black but that didn't stop the entitled racist white woman from comparing me to a chimpanzee did it.
Colorblind racism is the epitome of white feminism and does nothing but show just how privileged you are.
As for the second ask:
Misogyny is Not the Answer!
Being sexist is the problem!
More sexism just leans into the Patriarchy! Because, I don't know if you've noticed, but there is a distinct lack of feminism being displayed by the entitled racist white women in the articles above.
This is Not a "women are the problem" or whatever bullshit the manosphere is spouting post. This is a "men have to deal with the bullshit Patriarchy too" post.
Why is that so hard to get!?
There's a white man backing up his wife's racism in the first link.
The only people there for the entitled racist white woman's tirade in the second link were two woc.
I'm a man of color. The racism of white women, men and yes even nonbinary individuals affects me.
Hell, the racism of other POC affects me!
I'm a queer man. The sexism and homophobia of men and women affects. Me.
So don't come into my inbox spouting about how much more valid your trauma is than mine. Because to me you're no different than them:
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more deconstruction of "normal" as an obfuscating curtain around supremacy & its concomitant oppression more more!! (an interview by george yancy with subini annamma abt DisCrit, the intersection of disability studies & critical race theory)
some excerpts:
"These scholars were naming the ways ableism animated who we center as the “normal,” and how we draw boundaries around that conception of normal, and punish those outside those walls. In schools, we seek out youth we position as “abnormal” and try to cure, segregate or funnel them out of public spaces."
"Those intellectual ancestors, both those who have passed on and those still with us, created a space for DisCrit to recognize that racism and ableism are interdependent, that they depend on and inform each other. That is, if racism is the ideology for situating specific people in subordinated locations, then ableism is how that goal is achieved — by situating the learning, thinking, and behaviors of Black and Brown people as “less than” and “inferior.” Racism and ableism are mutually constitutive because they need each other to survive; whiteness needed to “other” Black and Brown people, and did so through ableism. Both CRT and DS scholars and public intellectuals left space for us to do this work; to seriously consider how racism and ableism inform one another and are normalized, not aberrant in society. DisCrit uses specific tenets to build on this conceptual foundation to name how, in a system of white supremacy, anti-Blackness and settler colonialism, whiteness defines the normal and desired individual; and positions all Black and Brown folks as abnormal."
"I know you’ve engaged in a discussion with the brilliant T.L. Lewis, and they have described how mass incarceration is a disability justice issue. So I’ll focus on how mass incarceration is a racial and disability justice issue because it targets disabled Black and Brown youth specifically. In other words, age does not protect disabled Black and Brown children because they are not imagined as innocent (what Black women and other women of color scholars, such as Jamilia Blake and Thalia González, have named as adultification) and they are also imagined as hyper-strong and aggressive. Instead, disabled Black and Brown kids are targeted and punished because of their disabilities. Moreover, Black and Brown youth are disabled by prison conditions, which cause trauma. Family separation through incarceration — whether in the name of rehabilitation, child welfare or mental health care — are all forms of punishment for perceived deviance. The abuse and neglect in these systems is well documented. We lock up what we are afraid of — if justice is what love looks like in public, then mass incarceration is hate institutionalized. And in the worst cases, our babies die in these hate-filled cages, babies like Cedric “C.J.” Lofton, Loyce Tucker, Cornelius Frederick, Gynnya McMillen, Elord Revolte, Andre Sheffield, Robert Wright, and more unnamed babies. Or they die while being rounded up to be put in these cages like Ma’Khia Bryant, Tamir Rice, Iremamber Skyap, Adam Toledo, and [others]. Mass incarceration is a racial and disability justice issue for Black and Brown disabled youth because it targets and creates disability, all while trying to eradicate their power and resistance."
"Moreover, disabled Black and Brown girls are experiencing higher rates of these negative outcomes than their nondisabled peers. When these disabled Black and Brown girls are abused by the system and their stories become public, their disabilities are often erased. We imagine them as what scholar Michele Goodwin discusses as “too intersectional,” when their disability or queerness is viewed as something to disassociate them from, trying to cleave their identities into something closer to the norm. Yet, this misses the fact that these Black and Brown girls are being punished because of their disabilities, and that disability labels and laws are not protecting them. We must recognize that Black and Brown disabled girls are not broken, our systems are broken. Carceral geographies threaten Black and Brown disabled girls. We must respond by loving Black and Brown girls in their full humanity."
I want to end with what you envision as hope. Like W.E.B. Du Bois, I am not hopeless, but I am unhopeful regarding the racist attitudes, racist practices, racist habits, racist ideologies and racist structures within the U.S. This includes how racism toxically lives intramurally or extramurally, and this includes how racism functions through ableism — or conversely, how ableism functions through racism. This is another way of saying that racism exists within every nook and cranny of U.S. society. I can’t begin to express how angry I feel as I write about racism and other forms of injustice. This anger is not misplaced, and it has its place. You’ve worked as an educator in both youth prisons and public schools. You’ve been able to observe directly how forms of discipline negatively impact girls of color, how they suffer under panoptic surveillance and pathologizing discourses. I can only imagine that they have internalized such racist and pathologizing forms of captivity. How do you find hope in what you do without being seduced by a neoliberal sense of hope that fails or refuses to think critically about systems of racism and pathology? Does anger help?
"For Black and Brown people, our anger is the antithesis of white supremacy and ableism that centralizes docility and compliance masquerading as kindness and civility. I draw from Audre Lorde who wrote about the uses of anger and Brittney Cooper who writes about eloquent rage. Lorde describes the power of our anger when it is focused with precision on the systems that harm us. So, I try to focus my anger on dismantling those systems, like the abolition of youth prisons, and all prisons. I draw from Mariame Kaba who reminds us to practice hope regularly; I practice hope by being in relationship with disabled Black and Brown youth, many of whom are being pushed out of public schools, and/or are currently or formerly incarcerated. I work to support our community as we labor in violent systems. We can create a world that is less violent, more humane, and even joyful. I believe in abolition, so my anger and hope are rooted in the ways I show up, I experiment and fail, and keep showing up to be in community with Black and Brown disabled youth. And those Black and Brown disabled youth are constantly pushing me to be more radical, to develop a clearer abolitionist imaginary. That is hope.
Hope is recognizing how our fights are all connected and cultivating solidarity. The attacks on trans that are so prevalent right now are built on ableism, misogynoir and white supremacy. Therefore, we must be in solidarity with our queer and trans siblings. One study found that 20 percent of youth in detention centers identified as queer and trans: 13 percent of boys and 40 percent of girls. Eighty-five percent of these incarcerated queer and trans girls are girls of color. Trans and queer youth of color often stay longer in family policing systems (known as child welfare) and juvenile incarceration systems, increasing the likelihood of negative impacts of both systems. Queer and trans Black and Brown youth deserve our solidarity and our protection. These same systems are harming Black and Brown disabled kids; our struggles are connected, and liberation means fighting together. Solidarity, the kind where we recognize our common fights and allow our differences in oppressions and experiences to inform our resistance, is what gives me hope.
Also exciting is the work of my contemporary colleagues and earlier career scholars, public intellectuals and activists who are also thinking critically about race and disability while not stopping there, like Jamelia Morgan, Mildred Boveda, Hailey Love, Maggie Beneke, Jenn Phuong, Tami Handy, Adai Teferra, Ericka Weathers, Sami Schalk, Jina B. Kim, Therí Pickens, Liat Ben-Moshe, Kay Ulanday Barrett, Keah Brown, Akiea Gross, D’Arcee Charington Neal, plus a whole host of students who are doing it better than us. They are thinking with less binaries and more interconnected systems. They are more radical and hopeful. And those of us who are developing a sharper analysis because we are listening to them, filling in gaps of our work we missed the first time around. I wanted a theory that centralized the lives of Black and Brown disabled youth, and DisCrit is what grew. DisCrit isn’t the best theory, it’s the one we created when we needed something better. We have always said we want to see it expanded and pushed until its borders break open and something better is born. That’s the beautiful thing about theory, it must continually evolve. As long as we are listening to Audre Lorde and focusing our rage with precision, our theory will evolve to meet us in the moment."
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hellisland · 2 months
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welcome to hell island, my tomodachi life island. I'll be updating on stuff that happens on said island.
if you want to check up on a certain mii you can in the ask box, aswell as what's going on in a specific apartment
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Miis:
apt. 101 - Scott Pilgrim - Scott Pilgrim
apt. 102 - Ramona Flowers - Scott Pilgrim
apt. 103 - Stoney - 1 Trait Danger
apt. 104 - Trait - 1 Trait Danger
apt. 105 - Will Toledo
apt. 106 - Chiyo-chan - Azumanga Daioh
apt. 107 - Balsac - GWAR
apt. 108 - Knives Chau - Scott Pilgrim
apt. 201 - Kim Pine - Scott Pilgrim
apt. 202 - Lisa Miller - Scott Pilgrim
apt. 203 - Hatsune Miku - Vocaloid
apt. 204 - Jesse Pinkman - Breaking Bad
apt. 205 - Roxie Richter - Scott Pilgrim
apt. 207 - Tamera Chen - Scott Pilgrim
apt. 208 - Santa
apt. 301 - Jesus Christ
apt. 302 - Wallace Wells - Scott Pilgrim
apt. 303 - Marceline - Adventure Time
apt. 304 - Lucas Lee - Scott Pilgrim
apt. 305 - Alex G
apt. 306 - Infected - Regretevator
apt. 307 - Jerma985
apt. 308 - Neco-Arc
apt. 401 - Young Neil - Scott Pilgrim
apt. 402 - Julie Powers - Scott Pilgrim
apt. 403 - Richard D. James aka "Aphex Twin"
apt. 404 - Evelyn
apt. 405 - Wyatt Shears
apt. 406 - Charm - Irl friend
apt. 407 - Fletcher Shears
apt. 408 - Rivers Hansen - oc
apt. 501 - Envy Adams - Scott Pilgrim
apt. 502 - Shaquille O'Neill
apt. 503 - 2D - Gorillaz
apt. 504 - Russel Hobbs - Gorillaz
apt. 505 - Björk
apt. 506 - Trasha - Scott Pilgrim
apt. 507 - Thom Yorke
apt. 508 - Walter White - Breaking Bad
apt. 601 - Xomi - Online friend
apt. 602 - Arlo - Online friend
apt. 603 - Germ - Online friend
apt. 604 - Max - Irl friend
apt. 605 - Thea - Irl teacher
apt. 606 - Cy - Irl friend
apt. 607 - Lammy - Um Jammer Lammy
apt. 608 - Kim - Me
apt. 701 - Maikol - Online friend
apt. 702 - Zero - Online friend
apt. 703 - Susie - Irl friend
apt. 704 - my balls - idk don't ask
apt. 705 - N/A
apt. 706 - Stephen Stills - Scott Pilgrim
apt. 707 - Patootie - Pikmin
apt. 708 - N/A
apt. 801 - Cossett - 1 Trait Danger
apt. 802 - Banana Joe - idk either
apt. 803 - Bive - Regretevator
apt. 804 - Split - Regretevator
apt. 805 - Pest - Regretevator
apt. 806 - Poob - Regretevator
apt. 807 - Nicole - Irl teacher
apt. 808 to 908 - N/A
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Miis who are together:
Scott Pilgrim and Ramona Flowers - Married
Stoney and Trait - Dating
Balsac and Will Toledo - Dating
Kim Pine and Lisa Miller - Married
Hatsune Miku and Jerma985 - Married
Roxie Richter and Björk - Dating
Wallace Wells and Jesus Christ - Married
Young Neil and Julie Powers - Married
Shaq and Envy - Married
Cy and Stephen Stills - Dating
Russel Hobbs and Lynette Guycott - Dating
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presleybutlervsp · 4 months
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November 23, 1956
Nick Adams, Elvis and Ken Moore arrive at the Cleveland Arena.
Elvis and deejay Bill Randle backstage at the Arena in Cleveland.
A 19 year-old, sheet metal worker named Louis Balint was arrested after punching Elvis Presley at a hotel bar in Toledo, Ohio. Balint was upset that his wife carried a picture of Elvis in her wallet. He was fined $19.60 but ended up being jailed for seven days because he was unable to pay the fine.
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lizardbytheriver · 1 year
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"13-year-old man" "13-year-old man" When Brown People and/or Black People die, it is important to listen to how the media describes them. Brown Boys and Black Boys are described as "Men". Brown Girls and Black Girls are described as "Women". This feeds into police narratives. "The Officer feared for his life confronting the Man" sounds more justifiable than "The Officer feared for his life confronting the Child." Suddenly, its more reasonable to gun down a kid, because he wasn't a kid! He was a "13-year-old man". It is important we recognize the power of words to craft a narrative. It is important we recognize the power of words that guide our conversations. Our word choice is not inherently neutral or unbiased. (Rest in Peace, Adam Toledo.)
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