#4 Rev Industrial

[adriano-ferreira]

Quarta Revolução Industrial e questões jurídicas

A terceira revolução industrial não foi o fim da história. A partir do final do século XX e início do século XXI, novas tecnologias emergiram e se combinaram, dando origem a uma nova onda de mudanças profundas e aceleradas nos âmbitos econômico, social, político e cultural. Essa é a chamada quarta revolução industrial, que se diferencia das anteriores por ser baseada na revolução digital e por…

[papercrane]

But Bakool ja ja would NOT have a 4-door pavement princess. He's a hick. He's from a place so rural it has actually absolutely jack fuck. No industry no services a ton of people left for the cities and it's just gotten worse. Whole 9

He'd have the best truck in town but it'd be an absolutely fucked up shitty truck anyway. And he'd rev it for no reason

[pamwritessometimes]

Tuesday's Gone — Chapter 5

Russell Shaw x reader

Summary: When the police does little to no help to find your missing daughter, you are forced to contact Colter Shaw. What you don’t expect is how his investigation will reveal secrets about both your past and your daughter’s, in ways you never imagined.

Warnings: description and mention of murder, language, absolutely cliché cliffhanger

A/N: Hey, lovely moots! Just a heads-up that things are about to get a little hectic on my end with writing my MA thesis and juggling work over the next few weeks, so there might be a slight delay in the next chapter. Thanks so much for your patience and understanding & most importantly for loving this story so far. Hope you enjoy the read in the meantime! 🤍

Catch up on Chapter 4 here

Tuesday’s Gone masterlist

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Previously:

With Emma snug in your arms and a renewed sense of determination, you stepped into the night together. 

For a second, the three of you standing there almost looked like some offbeat family photo… bittersweet, and about as far from normal as it gets.

But the moment you took in your surroundings, you felt a chill sensation. This sure as hell didn’t look like Idaho Falls. Nor the rundown warehouse you’d started in.

You had no idea where you were. 

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You tightened your grip on Emma, feeling the weight of her small body pressing into you like an anchor. And you undoubtedly needed that goddamn anchor then and there. Wherever there was.

She looked up at you with wide, tired and weary eyes, sensing the danger but too young to understand the why of it all. She was still shivering from being held hostage in a — what exactly? You turned around to take a glance at the building you and Emma were taken to. It was some sort of a fort-looking, massive, brutalist building. The unpainted concrete walls and the defined, sharp edges just gave the already eerie atmosphere another layer of creepiness. 

Russell also took a look at the building, but his mind was occupied with finding something — anything, really, that indicated where they were.

He scanned the empty streets. The whole place looked deserted and industrial. Old factory buildings with busted-out windows, a chain-link fence rusting along the perimeter, and no signs of life except for a stray cat slinking through the shadows. 

This is what The Rolling Stones was singing about in Living In A Ghost Town, he thought.

Russell glanced around, brow furrowed.

“This… doesn’t look good” he muttered, looking like he was trying to solve a Rubik's Cube with one hand tied behind his back.

“No kidding” you shot back, keeping your tone as light as you could manage for Emma’s sake, but your heart was thumping like a jackhammer. You were about three seconds away from a nervous breakdown — which, at this point, would probably be your hundredth. “So, genius… what’s the plan?”

Russell glanced at you, clearly trying to keep it together, but the frustration in his voice was impossible to miss. “I’m trying to come up with one. But I’m pretty sure you won’t like it.”

“There wasn’t any part of this I liked in the first place!” you grumbled.

Just then, a low rumble echoed from somewhere in the distance, a car engine revving up, headlights slicing through the dark. At the sound of voices barked orders, “Get ‘em!” and “Don’t fucking let them get away!”, Russell muttered a curse under his breath, pulling you both back into the shadows.

You flattened yourself against the cold wall, clutching Emma close. The car’s headlights swept across the cracked pavement, illuminating the scene for a heartbeat before the light passed, leaving you in the cover of darkness again. You held your breath, listening as the car slowed, idling nearby.

Russell’s eyes met yours, a silent message passing between you. You could almost hear his thoughts screaming This wasn’t part any of the plans I came up with.

The car's engine finally faded, and Russell took a slow, perfectly controlled breath. Huh. “Alright” he whispered. “Follow me. We stick to the backstreets, stay low, and pray they don’t have the whole damn town locked down.”

You raised an eyebrow, attempting a dry smile despite the tension. “So, no master plan, just hope for the best? Excellent.”

His lips twitched, a hint of his usual smirk breaking through. “Welcome to my life.”

With that, he led the way down the alley, sticking close to the wall and guiding you through the maze of abandoned buildings. Emma clung to you, her little fingers curled into your shirt with a force that no four-year-old should bear, and you stroked her back, whispering soft reassurances you weren’t sure you even believed yourself.

And honestly, you weren’t sure who needed the comfort more, her or you.

A few blocks down, you came across an old diner with a busted sign hanging above. It looked deserted. Perfect. Russell motioned for you to duck inside, the three of you slipping into the dimly lit space, huddling behind an overturned booth.

Russell scanned the room. “We’ll wait here for a few minutes. I need to come up with a plan.”

You nodded, settling Emma down and trying to keep your own nerves in check. It was just the three of you now, in a dusty, forgotten diner on the edge of nowhere, hiding from a nightmare that had yet to let you go. As you leaned back against the booth, you glanced at Russell, whose eyes were still scanning the room, like he could will a plan into existence if he stared hard enough. “So, any ideas on where exactly we are?”

He shrugged, offering a look that was almost... endearing in its hopelessness. “Somewhere... not Idaho Falls?”

You couldn’t help it. A low, incredulous laugh slipped out of your lips. “Well, thanks, Sherlock. That really narrows it down.”

“We’re far from home?” Emma's voice cut through the hushed tension.

You froze as you looked at her wide, curious and somewhat nervous eyes. 

“Yes, we are” Russell said before you could answer. Your eyes snapped at his face with a questioning expression, then he continued “… because we are on a little adventure.”

You shot him a look. Adventure? Was that what we were calling it now? Maybe you’d missed the part where your life turned into a bad action movie. But you just kept quiet. No point in crushing the adventure vibe. And you had no better idea how to explain it to her without mounting the trauma of the situation to her.

Emma turned to him as he spoke and after a moment of silence, her little voice hit his ears. “Who’s he?” she asked, pointing at Russell.

Russell blinked back, like she’d just asked him how to solve world hunger in the span of five minutes. He’d only met her about an hour ago, and now this. The million-dollar question.

Your dad, his mind screamed, but his mouth rather formed the following sentence.

“Uh, I’m a friend of your mom’s” he said, flashing her a smile that wasn’t exactly convincing. The truth was right there, hanging in the air like a bad smell, but neither of you were about to air it out yet. Not now, and definitely not here. "My name's Russell."

Emma didn’t seem to notice the weirdness, though. She just nodded like that made sense. And you? You were still stuck on the fact that your life had turned into a poorly scripted Bruce Willis-movie.

Emma tilted her head while her expression turned adorably thoughtful. “You’re hairy. Like grandpa.”

Russell chuckled as he ran a hand through his beard. “Yeah, I guess I am. It’s my pirate look.”

Her eyes lit up at the word pirate. “Are you a pirate?! Can I be one, too?”

“Absolutely” he replied. “But we have to be sneaky pirates, okay? No one can know we’re here.”

Your heart did a little flip at the sight. The way he talked to your daughter. His daughter. His voice was surprisingly soft and sweet, even in this situation. Emma’s reaction wasn’t a shock, though. She had a habit of linking beards (like the one your dad rocked) with safety and familiar love.

“Okay!” Emma nodded so seriously it was like she’d just signed up for a full-on treasure hunt. “What’s our treasure?” she asked, her little brain clearly putting the pieces together. If we’re on an adventure, we must be looking for something, right?

Russell didn’t miss a beat. “Finding you is the biggest treasure there is” he said, throwing you a quick look that somehow managed to be both warm and determined. “Your mom was worried sick about you.”

Emma’s serious face melted into a grin, giggling like she’d just figured out the punchline of a joke she didn’t even know she was in. “I’m a treasure!”

Russell couldn’t help but smile back, watching her with something a little different in his eyes now. There was something about this brave little girl that made him feel a little less lost in the middle of all this chaos.

Just then, the sound of tires screeching echoed from down the street, and he stiffened, pulling you both deeper into the shadows, close to his chest.

"We need to move” Russell said, his voice sharp with urgency. The fact that he still didn’t have a solid plan didn’t seem to slow him down. Without warning, he scooped Emma up into his arms, his eyes softening just a fraction as he did. “We’ll move faster this way, pirate” he added, his lips twitching into a grin. “Just stay quiet, little treasure hunter, ‘kay?”

Emma blinked at him, clearly processing this new development like she was on the set of some kind of action flick. But after a beat, she nodded, her little hands clutching his shirt like she was ready to face whatever was next.

This whole scene was surprising. She seemed to like him already — and that was backed by the way she smiled back at you from his arms. 

You could hardly believe your eyes. 

In the midst of a kidnapping, Russell somehow made her forget the fear and pain of the past few days, if only for a moment.

Russell gave her a quick wink before looking back at you. The plan might still be nonexistent, but at least someone was acting like they had it together.

With Emma snug in his arms, Russell headed out quietly, leading you through the maze of shadows and concrete buildings. The screeching tires faded into the background, replaced by the rhythmic pounding of your heart that you could feel in your eardrums. 

“Alright, pirate crew” Russell whispered, his eyes scanning the surroundings like he was already in full-on mission mode. And he probably was. “We need an escape route. And I need your sharp eyes on lookout, got it? Keep ‘em peeled for any bad guys.”

“Bad guys?” she echoed, looking around, wide-eyed. “Are they gonna hurt us?”

Russell shook his head, grinning. “Not a chance. We’re pirates, remember? We’ll outsmart them easily. Right, captain?”

Emma giggled, playing along like she was born for this. And you had to hand it to him — Russell knew exactly what he was doing. Using the pirate game to sneak his way in, to worm his way through to your daughter. You hated to admit it, but... yeah, it was working.

“Alright, crew, any bright ideas?” you whispered, forcing as much lightness into your tone as you could muster for Emma’s sake.

But before anyone could answer, you heard it—tires screeching, closer this time, much too close. The sound scraped at your nerves, a noise that would probably haunt your nightmares for weeks. If your survive it, that is. Your heart skipped a beat as headlights sliced through the dark, illuminating everything for a split second before they vanished again.

"Shi—“ you muttered, but quickly bit the end as you glanced at your daughter.

Russell’s face hardened, the easy smile he’d been wearing slipping away. "Stay down, stay quiet. We’re not out of the woods yet.”

Emma clutched at his shirt. “What’s happening?”

Russell’s jaw tightened, and for a second, you could have sworn you saw actual fear in his eyes. Like he knew something bad was about to happen. Something fatal.

“We’re playing a new game now, treasure hunter. It’s called ‘hide and don’t get caught'” he said, his eyes darting around, until they landed on a massive tree surrounded by some half-crushed rocks.

And just like that, he got the plan.

Without wasting another second, Russell shoved Emma back into your arms, nudging you both behind the tree. You opened your mouth to argue, but the look in his eyes was all the explanation you needed. There was no room for negotiation. This wasn’t just another close call; he was done running.

“Stay here” he whispered. “… and whatever you hear… don’t come out” he added. His gaze lingered on you for a moment, like he was taking in all of your little features; the way your hair framed your face, the slight tremor in your shoulders, your lashes looking slightly vet from fear. You looked like you’d been through a storm, and honestly, you had. But to him, standing there, you and Emma were worth every bruise, every risk.

With one last look, he turned, placing himself between you and the approaching threats.

You barely had time to register anything before you heard a car door creak open. You couldn’t see a thing from your hiding spot, but you didn’t need to. You knew exactly who it was. Rourke, or one of his Horizon lackeys. And Russell? He was still out there. With only a single gun and that damn stubborn fire in his eyes (that you somehow always adored). 

It was insane. He was insane.

Your pulse raced, heart hammering in your chest as you pressed yourself further into the shadows, praying Russell had a plan. Or, at the very least, that his unshakable confidence wouldn’t get him killed. You could hear the shuffle of boots approaching, slow and controlled.

You held Emma close, her small fingers tightening around you as she buried her face against your shoulder. You stroked her back gently, whispering, “Shh… we’re just playing hide and seek, yeah?" you asked, echoing Russell's words from earlier. "Can you… can you stay quiet for me?” 

Her fearful eyes were shiny from unshed tears, but she nodded. The guilt hit you like a punch to the gut. God, you’d never felt more of a failure as a mom than in that moment. You were supposed to keep her safe, to protect her, not drag her into this mess.

Outside, Russell didn’t flinch as the footsteps drew closer, his body poised like a coiled spring, ready to move. You could only listen, heart hammering, hoping he had some kind of plan up his sleeve because this wasn’t a fight he could take on alone.

“Come on, Shaw” a voice called from the shadows, the kind of voice that made you want to punch something. Rourke. Of course. "Don't make this harder than it needs to be. You’re outnumbered, outgunned, and just plain out of luck. Come back to us… and maybe we’ll consider not wiping out your adorable little family."

Russell’s jaw clenched, his fists tightening at his sides as he took a step closer to the darkened street. He didn’t raise his voice, but the steel in his tone was unmistakable. “You touch one hair on their heads, and you’ll regret it, Rourke.”

Rourke chuckled with a sound so smug, it almost made you physically ill. “You know, Shaw, I thought you were smarter than this. Putting your life on the line... and for what? You can’t win here.”

Russell didn’t waver, his voice low and steady. “You don’t know a damn thing about what’s worth fighting for.”

“Oh, I think I do” Rourke sneered, taking another step closer, his figure shifting in the moonlight. “I know weakness when I see it. I see it every time I look at you.”

A beat of silence. It was deafening.

“And I see a coward” Russell finally replied. “Hiding behind hired thugs, preying on those who can’t fight back. Real tough guy... That's what you enjoy, huh? That's the reason for that little side hustle of yours?" he asked. "Does Morello still have no clue about it?"

Morello? Side hustle? What was Russell playing at?

Rourke’s smug grin faltered, but only for a second. “You talk a big game, Shaw. Let’s see if you back it up.” He motioned to his men, weapons glinting faintly. Russell mirrored their actions.

You couldn't see anything, but the sounds were lound and clear. You’ve never felt this scared in your life. Ever.

From your hidden spot behind the tree, you felt Emma’s little arms clutch you tighter, sensing the danger. Your heart pounded as you watched Russell’s shadow standing alone, facing them all down.

Then Rourke took one last step forward. “Final offer, Shaw” his voice creaked with menace. “Come with us, and maybe, just maybe, your bitch and offspring stay intact.”

Russell’s grip on his gun tightened. “Big words for a guy who needs an entourage to feel important” he shot back. “But I’ll pass on the offer, thanks.”

Rourke’s face twisted, anger finally replacing his smirk. “Fine,” he spat. “You want to play hero, Shaw? Then let’s see if you survive it.”

And then, without warning, bang. The most terrifying gunshot sound you’ve ever experienced.

Not that you’ve never heard a gunshot before. It wasn’t necessarily the sound you found terrifying… but rather the silence that followed, and the uncertainty of who was at the receiving end.

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Next on Tuesday's Gone (Sneak Peek from Chapter 6):

“I know you don’t want to“ he began, holding up a hand before you could get a word in. “But you and Emma need to check into the hospital. Just to be sure she’s okay, no hidden bumps or bruises.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but he shook his head, a little smirk tugging at his lips. “Don’t try to be a hero. Do it for her, if not for yourself. And…maybe a little for me, too.”

His eyes softened as he looked at you both. “I need to know you’re safe. After everything that just went down, I don’t think I could handle one more surprise tonight.”

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I know, such a cliché and terrible cliffhanger. But what can I say? Don’t fix what’s not broken.

Chapter 6 coming soon…

🤍 Taglist 🤍

@bitchykittenconnoisseur @smoothdogsgirl @spnfamily-j2 @winchesterwild78 @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @zepskies @kr804573 @sebastianstangirl01 @kmc1989 @drakelover78 @amberlthomas @lomlbuckybarnes @n-o-p-e-never

[trolagygirl2022]

Why are K-pop idol's relationships getting exposed?

8 of Wands, 4 of Wands, 7 of Swords, The High Priestess rev.

Ok, so according to the cards, the K-pop world moves very fast. Everyone knows the latest gossip and once someone knows something it's spread like wildfire. I'm sensing some strange feminine energy with the High Priestess rev. I feel as if this is a woman that knows a LOT of secrets in the industry. (Could be a sasaeng, I'm getting lots of Han Soe Hee vibes). This lady seems to be very well connected and knows the secrets of high profile people. Like even big business men fear her. I'm getting a lot of blackmail vibes, so take it as you will. It seems like she's not getting what she wants from these companies? So that's why she's spilling all this info? I'm also thinking about those sasaengs that leak info of their faves dating or whatever. "If I can't have him, I'll at least ruin his career".

[urfavslav]

various headcanons of tr characters !

when ran asks you to be his s/o he gifts you gloves. while u may not think anything of it other then his love languages being gift giving. he's asking you to be his forever. they're symbolism that while the gloves would protect your hands, he would protect you.

imagine giving senju one of those sanrio hats that have velcro at the bottom ,, so they stay on ,, yknow ,, but she is so thrilled. so she wears it 24/7

if you say or do something stupid, hanma won't let it go. period. it will become an inside joke, something he uses to see u laugh, also he will do that with things he's done too. use 'em as stories to cheer u up.

emma sano would be so aggressively caring ,, but in the cutest way ever. cutely aggressive texts urging you to drink some water, eat something and get rest before she rushes over to do it for you !

thinking about petshop trio ,, chifuyu and kazutora eventually push baji to get a piercing ,, he ends up getting an industrial ,, sbsjs. it shows when he pulls his hair up also, chifuyu has considered a nose piercing. he likes simple studs.

sanzu deals with mania and or hypomania. for him they can be really scary because he also uses drugs and that heightens how he feels and emotions during that time. he calls it 'madness episodes', after his episode is over (for him they last a while. anywhere from a week to almost 4 weeks) it takes a while to get him calm. even after it ends. haruchiyo craves being close to you, sharing your warmth and inhaling your scent. it calms his nerves like an anesthetic. please indulge him.

kakucho likes chocolate chip waffles. like he just doesn't like pancakes for some reason. you start to notice a pattern when he makes waffles in the morning on his days off. he only eats his choco chip ones. maybe strawberries on top.

when hanma wakes up (whenever his ass does) I think he has like leftover eyeliner smudged around his eyes ,, also playing playing his long fingers and tracing his tattoos ugh

shinichiro with an s/o who's slightly taller but their love language is physical affection. they give minimal acts of affection though. hand holding, hugs. etc. one of shins fav acts of affection is when his s/o ruffles his hair. he'll get all flustered with warm tinted cheeks, eyes squinted and a goofy smile on his face. he's so cute :(

if I saw south, I'd try n hang off his arm ,, I just think it would be funny I also think he's a fan of play fighting ,, i think he will ruffle tour hair and pick you up like a cat ,, by the scruff of ur hoodie

mikey's texts that may not make sense. the typing looks like 2007 scene tumblr, all lowercase with words shortened so bad it doesn't make sense and faces like [:(, XD, :p] his texts look like ; 'hiii bby !!! im almst ther jst wait a bit kay !!!! I promise u he's abt to jump on his bike and visit u, or calls where he's just about to fall asleep but tried his hardest to stay awake for you so he can heat ur voice ,, even though that makes him feel even calmer. it's gonna put him to sleep

koko has money, but like he has nice shit, he takes this nice, modded car, he goes around at night, driving to get a break from the bonten trio shit ,, playing around with his loud ass engine revving it up. then goes on his spotify premium with one of his favorite playlists

for stay home dates mitsuya sets up his record player to play old, classics and sway his partner around when they aren't feeling so good to cheer them up :(

sleeping/nap dates with mikey are a staple ! no matter if you're immersed on a book or your scholastic duties, or even cooking he will pull you for a nap.

sanzu plays around with tarot cards and gives readings when he's completely high or drunk. the other executives pay no mind to it, but when he sobers up and asks the execs what he said about the cards and goes 'yeah, that sounds just about right, but just this and that too." the execs look blown out of their mind and slightly scared that he remembers

★ all works belong to @urfavslav , do not repost on anywhere else with or without credit, do not plagiarise. thank you !

[dailyanarchistposts]

This past International Workers Day, otherwise known as May Day, I attended my local rally. The same old May Day groups were in attendance, Party for Socialist Liberation (PSL), Communist Party USA (CPUSA), Democratic Socialists of America (DSA), and a couple other single issue labor groups. The endless tedium of speeches aside, something strange stood out to me. Every group called for left unity in some way or another. “Unite as workers to crush capitalism,” was the exact quote from the young man in running shoes, jeans, and a bright red PSL shirt. I could have spoken up and made a scene, again, but I feel it is more effective to broadly address why this call for left unity is absurd especially considering the Marxist historical revisionism surrounding May Day. The success of May Day was directly because of the anarchist Haymarket Martyrs and the Marxist attempt to ignore this fact is one of the many reasons why left unity is never in the best interest of anarchists.

Before we begin, it is important to go over the events of the Haymarket uprising on May 4th, 1886. The first May Day was called for by the Federation of Organized Trades and Labor Unions (FOTLU) as the official first day the eight-hour workday in 1886. On May 1st 1886, between 30,000 and 80,000 laborers in Chicago refused to work in support of the eight hour day, which shut down the industrial zones. August Spies, a German-born anarchist and leading contributor to the newspaper Arbeiter-Zeitung, was enthused by the unity and relative success of the eight-hour fight.[1] The McCormick Reaper Works’ solution, instead of meeting the demands of the workers, was to hire scabs. On May 3rd, 1886, striking workers from the McCormick Plant asked Spies to come down to the Southwest side of Chicago and give a speech to bolster morale. Minutes into Spies speech, the scabs began filing out of the plant and the McCormick strikers rushed to the gates of the factory. To protect the business and scabs, 200 police officers rushed in and beat the strikers with clubs and shot them with pistols. According to Spies, 6 strikers were killed including those that were shot in the back as they fled. Spies knew that the battle had been lost and returned to his newspaper office with the sound of screams and pistol fire still ringing in his ear.

That night, August Spies rushed into print several thousand leaflets urging workingmen to come to a meeting the next day, May 4th, at Haymarket Square.[2] The next day, the anarchists August Spies, Albert Parsons, and the Rev. Samuel Fielden spoke to a crowd estimated variously between 600 and 3,000. At around 10:30 PM as Fielden spoke, the police showed up despite the peaceful nature of the crowd. As they ordered the crowd to disperse, a bomb was thrown into the advancing officers, killing 6. The Police then opened fire on the anarchists killing 4 and some of the anarchists returned fire killing another police officer. The Police argued it was a conspiracy and eight influential anarchists were arrested, including Spies and Parsons, who were not present but had significant influence in the community. On November 11th 1887, 4 convicted anarchists including Spices, Parsons, Adolph Fischer, and George Engle were hanged. The state executions further enraged the broader community and would be the catalyst for the International Workers Day.

The Haymarket Uprising was internationally significant. During the funeral procession for the anarchists in Chicago, the historian Philip Foner estimates, between 150,000 and 500,000 people lined the streets in support. Both the American Federation of Labor and the Knights of Labor, although initially reluctant, supported the slain anarchists as heroes of labor. The Knights of Labor even published the autobiographies of Parsons, Spies, Fischer, Engle, and the anarchist who killed himself in prison, Oscar Neebe.[3] The London Freedom group argued “No event in the worldwide evolution of the struggle between socialism and the existing order of society has been so important, so significant, as the tragedy of Chicago.”[4] According to the historian Paul Avrich, pamphlets and articles about the case and autobiographies of the martyrs appeared in every language across the world. In Europe, over twenty-four cities boasted sizeable protests in support of the Haymarket Martyrs.[5] Famous anarchists like Emma Goldman, Alexander Berkman, and Ricardo Flores Magón all attribute the Haymarket uprising to their radicalization. Moreover, it was not only Europe that celebrated the Haymarket Martyrs. The Times of London reported protests in Cuba, Peru, and Chile.[6] Mary Harris “Mother�� Jones was in Mexico on May Day, 1921, and wrote that their May Day was expressly in honor of “the killing of the workers in Chicago for demanding the eight-hour day.”[7] More to this point, during a trip to Mexico in 1939, Oscar Neebe’s grandson was shown a mural by Diego Rivera in the Palace of Justice depicting the Haymarket Martyrs.[8] The international significance of the Haymarket Martyrs was undeniable in the hearts and imagination of all of the Left and is a significant element in the success of May Day.

The success of May Day internationally is thanks to the slain anarchists yet Marxist leadership intentionally omitted the significance of the Haymarket Martyrs to further purge anarchism from the historical record. In 1889, just a few years after the execution, the Marxist International Socialist Congress, who would later form the “Second International,” chose May 1st to celebrate international workers. However, nowhere in the Second International’s proclamation was the slightest mention of anarchism or the Haymarket Martyrs’ sacrifice for the eight-hour workday. The historian Philip Foner in 1969 therefore needed to write an entire book to remind the reader that other than pushing for the eight-hour workday, the secondary purpose of the establishment of International Workers Day on May 1st was to honor the Haymarket Martyrs. He argues “there is little doubt that everyone associated with the resolution passed by the Paris Congress knew of the May 1st demonstrations and strikes for the eight-hour day in 1886 in the United States … and the events associated with the Haymarket tragedy.” [9]

This slight against anarchists should come as no surprise considering the Second International broke with the First International Workingmen’s Association to exclude anarchists. The few anarchist members that refused to leave the Second International were barred from contributing. Member William Morris reveals, “expressions of anarchist ideas were often shouted down, and in one incident Francesco Saverio Merlino faced violence from the other delegates.”[10] The later Soviets were no stranger to historical revisionism either. Whether it is Stalin painting himself into pictures alongside Lenin or more typically painting out figures, like Trotsky, from the historical narrative. Famous member of the Communist Party USA’s central committee and founder of International Publishing, Alexander Trachtenberg, published the definitive “History of May Day” in 1932 and did not mention the word anarchism once.[11] Therefore, the Marxists of the Second international developed the May Day holiday to appropriate the international success of the anarchist Haymarket martyrs, while actively excluding anarchist thought from their sphere of influence.

Rosa Luxemburg also actively excluded mentioning the Haymarket Martyrs, which prominent Social Democrat publications like Jacobin choose to publish to further marginalize anarchist ideas. In 2016, Jacobin magazine published Luxemburg’s “What are the Origins of May Day.” In this article, Luxemburg argued that in 1856, the Australian workers call for complete work stoppages in support for the 8-hour workday influenced the American and then International development of May Day.[12] She claims that the Australians call to action was the primary source of inspiration for The International Workers Congress in 1890. While this is most likely true, she does not mention anarchists at all in her story. Not only did Luxemburg choose to ignore the impact of the Haymarket anarchists, but Jacobin’s intentional publication of her work in 2016 illustrated this same interest in erasure. Therefore, it becomes clear that both the Communists and the contemporary Social Democrats reinterpret history in order to ignore the global impact of anarchism on the working-class.

This active historical revisionism from popular Marxists is what makes May Day speeches calling for “left unity” ridiculous. Let us, for a moment, ignore the legacy of anarchist oppression from the Soviet Union to Cuba. The fact that both the Second International to contemporary Marxists willfully ignore the centrality of anarchism to organized labor and the establishment of the eight-hour workday is ahistorical. The fact that they suppress anarchist history and call for unity on the day that anarchist ancestors gave their lives for labor’s cause is bullshit. The eight-hour work day was a compromise for the abolition of waged labor. Let us not compromise our principles again by unifying with Marxists that work to undermine us at every opportunity.

[1] August Spies, “The Dies are Cast!”Arbeiter-Zeitung (May 1, 1886)

[2] August Spies, “Revenge,” Arbeiter-Zeitung (May 3, 1886)

[3] Philip Foner, “Editor’s Intro” in The Haymarket Autobiographies ed. Philip Foner (Ann Arbor, MI: University of Michigan Press, 1969), 12.

[4] Paul Avrich, The Haymarket Tragedy (Princeton NJ: Princeton University Press, 1984), 436.

[5] Philip Foner, May Day (New York, NY: International Publishers, 1986), 45-46.

[6] Foner, May Day, 45-46.

[7] Dave Roediger, “Mother Jones & Haymarket”, in Haymarket Scrapbook ed. Franklin Rosemont, David Roediger (Chico, CA: AK Press, 2011), 213.

[8] Paul Avrich, The Haymarket Tragedy (Princeton NJ: Princeton University Press, 1984), 436.

[9] Phillip Foner, May Day, 42.

[10] William Morris, “Impressions of the Paris Congress: II,” Marxists.org (Retrieved May 4, 2022) https://www.marxists.org/archive/morris/works/1889/commonweal/08-paris-congress.html

[11] Alexander Thrachtenberg, “The History of May Day” Marxist.org (accessed May 5, 2022) https://www.marxists.org/subject/mayday/articles/tracht.html

[12] Rosa Luxemburg, “What are the Origins of May Day?” Jacobin, May 1, 2016 (Accessed May 2, 2022) https://jacobinmag.com/2016/05/may-day-rosa-luxemburg-haymarket

[xuchiya]

"Chapter 5: The Chase" || kang yeosang [a mini-series]

|| next: chapter 6 || if you haven't read the previous chapter, here's the masterlist.

genre: non!idol yeosang. fluff. angst. violence. mentions: gun. knives. attempt murder/kidnapping. blood. anxiety attack.

"my lady as much as I want to drive that ... chariot as our runaway vehicle ... you're on your own."

"KANG YEOSANG?!"

The carnival lights twinkled in the distance as you and Yeosang made your way back to the motorbike, you hum as you felt your body in a less stressful state looking at Yeosang, “I can’t thank you enough for doing this Yeo.” He bumps his shoulders to yours with a boyish grin, “Just because my duty is to protect you in general doesn’t mean I cannot protect you from things that can hurt you from the naked eye.” 

Your heart flutters and nod— feeling that intense butterflies flying around your stomach. Yeosang rev the motorbike to life and hands you the helmet. The night had been a delightful escape from the stress that had consumed you. You felt lighter, more at ease, thanks to Yeosang's thoughtful gesture. The drive back home was quiet at first, the peaceful silence a comforting backdrop to your thoughts.

The muffler silence as you approached a red light, you noticed Yeosang's eyes narrowing slightly as he glanced at the side mirrors. You took notice as he pull up his visors,  "Something wrong?" you asked, sensing his tension. You pull away, doing the same thing but Yeosang grab your wrist and pulls down your visor, “Don’t baby.”

If it wasn’t for the other car on your right, a little too close, you would have been blushing mess from the other nickname he gave you. "Keep the visor down okay?" he said and you nodded, but his tone was cautious. "Just a car that's been a little too close for my liking."

You glanced back, seeing a black Mercedes idling behind you. The light turned green, and you continued on your way, but Yeosang kept a close eye on the mirror. After a few more red lights, Yeosang's suspicion grew. "Hold on," he said, his voice low and serious.

"What's going on?" you asked, feeling a knot of anxiety form in your stomach.

"I'm going to confirm something," he replied, taking an unexpected turn down a side street and braking on a side of the street. The Mercedes followed, shutting down the engine and exactly 4 men came out of the car, you watch them approach you two and Yeosang calmly took the situation, raising his visor, “Is there a problem?”

The first guy did not answer Yeosang but instead looked at you. You felt your heart stop and drop on the pit of your stomach when you notice the scar that was above the eyebrow. Your grip on Yeosang tightens.

“It’s her. Get her!” The first guy shouted, his voiced laced with menace. Without hesitation, Yeosang rev the motorbike loudly before launching off, “Hold on tight baby!” 

You screech down the street. Yeosang's jaw tightened, looking back then front. "Just as I thought. They're following us."

Your heart rate quickened as Yeosang navigated through different areas, trying to lose the tail. But the Mercedes stayed with you, matching every turn. "Hang on tight," he instructed, his voice calm but firm. Yeosang changed gear, and the motorbike sped up. The Mercedes did the same, closing the distance. "They're not giving up," you said, glancing back nervously.

"Then neither are we," Yeosang replied, his eyes focused ahead. He maneuvered the motorbike skillfully through the narrow streets, weaving in and out of traffic. The city lights blurred as you raced through intersections, the tires screeching with each sharp turn. 

The chase intensified, the Mercedes relentless in its pursuit. Yeosang took another sharp turn, heading towards a less crowded area. "We're going to have to lose them," he said, determination in his voice.

As you sped through an industrial area, Yeosang spotted an alleyway up ahead. " Are you ready my lady?!" he warned.

“Let’s just get over it gahd damnit!” He swerved the car into the narrow passage. The Mercedes followed, but the tight space worked to your advantage. Yeosang navigated the twists and turns with precision, creating a bit of distance between you and the pursuers. Suddenly, the alley opened up into a wider street. Yeosang revs up the accelerator, and the motorbike shoots forward. The Mercedes emerged from the alley, struggling to keep up with your sudden burst of speed. "We're almost there," Yeosang said, glancing at you to make sure you were okay. His other hand, holding on to your hands that were tightly holding on to him.

As the speedometer climbed, you could see the outskirts of the city up ahead. Yeosang took a final sharp turn onto a highway, pushing the car to its limits. The Mercedes was still behind, but the distance was growing.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Yeosang spotted an off-ramp leading to a secluded area. He took it, and the Mercedes hesitated for a moment before following. That hesitation was all Yeosang needed. He took another sharp turn, heading into a forested area, the dense trees providing cover. He pulled the motorbike into a hidden driveway, shutting off the engine and killing the lights. "They won’t know," he whispered. You both watched as the Mercedes sped past, missing your hiding spot entirely.

After a tense few minutes, Yeosang let out a breath he had been holding. "I think we lost them." Your heart was still pounding, but relief washed over you. "What was that about?" you asked, trying to calm your racing thoughts.

"I'm not sure," Yeosang admitted. "But they seem to recognize you, do you know them?” You shook your head, the image of the first guy still vivid in your thoughts, “No. Not that I remember something like that.”

He nodded, slightly out of breath, probably from the adrenaline, “I’ll have to report this one but for now, let's get you home." He started the engine again, and this time the drive was uneventful. You arrived back at the manor, still shaken but grateful for Yeosang's quick thinking and expertise. As you stepped off of the , you looked at Yeosang. "Thank you," you said sincerely.

"Always," he replied, his eyes reflecting the seriousness of his promise to protect you.

As you were about to leave the parking lot, a black sleek car— similar to the ones you use whenever you got to a meeting or such— pulled up and you instantly recognized who it was. Yeosang took the helmet and placed it on the seat and stood tall beside you.

“What are you doing here, honey? Aren’t you supposed to be in a meeting?” You watch as your father approaches you, two of his bodyguards trailing behind him. You exhale, looking at him “Few of my schedules today are cancelled or move to next month, dad.” 

You saw his eyes flickered to you then to Yeosang then on the motorbike at the back then his eyes returned to you, “Did you go somewhere?” You look behind you then to your father, “I—”

“Sir!” A voice roared, capturing everyone's attention. A male—probably one of your dad’s bodyguards—approached your father with urgency. “The SPD is here for some interrogations.” Confusion rippled through the room as everyone wondered why the Seoul Police Department had shown up suddenly. Then, it clicked in your mind, and you glanced at Yeosang, who remained stoic and stood tall beside you.

“Why? What do they need?” your dad asked, his voice tight with controlled anger. Your heart stopped when the bodyguard replied, “KYS 61599 is being tracked down for overspeeding.” Your dad slowly turned to Yeosang with a deep frown on his face, his knuckles suddenly tight at his side. You immediately stepped forward. “Dad, I can explain.”

Your dad’s eyes did not waver, “Take her upstairs and put this man in a confined house.” Your breath hitch when all of his bodyguards move, taking your arms in their hands as your head snaps towards Yeosang who is being dragged rather harshly towards the confined house, “Dad no! Wait!”

Your dad looks at you with an intense look in his eyes, “And as for you, I’m disappointed that you would go behind my back just like that and use Yeosang as a way to escape from your duties and responsibilities.” Those words hit you like a punch to the gut. Every ounce of effort, every sleepless night, every sacrifice felt meaningless in that moment. “Dad, that’s not fair!” you yelled, your voice breaking. “I did not use Yeosang to escape! I did it because I needed a break! I’m suffocating under all this pressure!”

Your father’s eyes were cold, unmoved by your outburst. “You are the heir to De Villalobos Corporates. You have responsibilities. You cannot simply run away whenever you feel overwhelmed.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision. “I never asked for this! I never wanted to be the heir! I never wanted to take care of the family business! All I wanted was to live a normal life, to pursue my own dreams, to have friends, to be free!”

He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “You think you’re the only one who had dreams? Your grandfather worked his entire life to build this empire, and he chose you to continue his legacy. This is bigger than your personal desires.”

Your heart shattered at his words. “But what about my life, Dad? What about my happiness? You’re confining both me and my sister to a life we didn’t choose. And using Yeosang? That’s beyond my dignity. He saved me. He’s the only reason I’m still standing here!”

Your father’s face hardened, the lines around his mouth deepening. “Your happiness is secondary to your duty. You were born into this family, and with that comes sacrifices. You will fulfill your role, and that is final.”

Despair turned into anger, hot and fierce. “I refuse! I refuse to be your puppet! I refuse to be confined to this gilded cage! I will not let you or anyone else dictate my life!”

The room fell silent, the weight of your words hanging heavily in the air. Your father looked at you with a mix of anger and disappointment. “Take her to her room. She is not to leave until I say so.” As the bodyguards led you away, you looked back at Yeosang, who was being pulled in the opposite direction. Your heart ached with a pain you couldn’t describe. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, knowing he couldn’t hear you.

Back in your room, the door closed behind you with a finality that echoed through your soul. You collapsed onto the bed, sobbing uncontrollably. All your hard work, all your efforts to balance the demands of your family and your own dreams, felt in vain. The weight of your father's harsh words and the reality of your situation crushed you, leaving you feeling more trapped and hopeless than ever.

Then thinking of Yeosang. Your tears continue to fall out of your eyes as you think of that man who did nothing but be kind to you, treating you not like royalty or an heir but rather a person and friend. 

Pulling your knees close to your chest, “I’m sorry.”

taglist: @yeosangsbabygirlsblog, @hi-kariii,@ateez-atiny380

[diabolus1exmachina]

TVR Sagaris 

The most outlandish of TVR’s late cars, the Sagaris was the first new TVR to be launched under the company’s ownership by elusive Russian oligarch Nikolai Smolensky. And then, in 2007, the company ground to a halt.A year later, the cash-strapped fragments of TVR were partly bought back by Smolensky and new plans were made to restart production. That’s when the mildly facelifted Sagaris 2 appeared, but in truth no industry pundit believed the rebirth would actually happen. It didn’t, of course; and now the Sagaris stands as a monument to all that was good, bad and mad about TVR and its turbulent history.Actually, there’s little bad about the Sagaris. To own one of the few cars made – production was in the low hundreds – is to own possibly the most bombastic pleasure machine you can buy for the money. When new in 2005 it cost £49,995, or less than a third of the cost of a new Aston Martin Vanquish – a car it would leave far behind on any challenging road. Under the Sagaris’s extraordinary skin are, broadly, the structure and mechanicals of a Tamora or T350, including TVR’s own 4-litre straight-six engine, here uprated to 400 precisely metered bhp. A low-slung racing version of the T350 sowed the Sagaris seed, which is why the Sagaris really does look like a racing car for the road. You can even see the depressions in the tops of the front wings where a race car would have air vents to relieve front-end lift, but to open the holes on a road car is to find your windscreen in the firing line of all sorts of road debris.

Then there’s the front splitter lurking just above the road surface (beware of kerbs and speed bumps), the transparent rear spoiler supported on machined-aluminium posts, the bulge in the roof to clear a crash helmet… and a mad pair of tailpipes each exiting directly sideways so pedestrians get the maximum aural benefit.

What they hear is a rumble somewhere between Jaguar D-type and racing biplane, morphing to a crackling howl as the revs rocket. The Sagaris scorches to 60mph in well under four seconds, sears past 180mph, and steers with an ultra-quick, meaty precision far removed from the other-worldly lightness that could make earlier TVRs scary. Your mind is in a state of heightened awareness within 100 yards, such is the intensity of sound and feeling, and it’s fabulous fun. Reliable fun, too, reckon the specialists.

[satoshi-mochida]

Fatal Fury: City of the Wolves adds B. Jenet and Vox Reaper; confirmed for PS5, PS4, Xbox Series, and PC - Gematsu

Fatal Fury: City of the Wolves will be available for PlayStation 5, PlayStation 4, Xbox Series, and PC via Steam and Epic Games Store when it launches in early 2025, SNK announced. The company also confirmed B. Jenet and Vox Reaper as playable characters.

Here is an overview of the game and latest characters, via SNK:

About the Game

SNK’s beloved Fatal Fury series first hit the market in 1991, spearheading the fighting game boom of the 1990s that swept the industry thereafter. Garou: Mark of the Wolves (released in 1999) has, for some time, served as the franchise’s most recent installment. But that is all about to change: 26 years on, a brand-new entry—Fatal Fury: City of the Wolves—is set to arrive on the scene! Fatal Fury: City of the Wolves features a unique art style that stimulates the senses, an innovative REV system that supercharges the excitement, plus a host of other battle systems even more robust than before. The game also breathes new life into the series by introducing two distinct control schemes (ensuring fun and excitement for newcomers and veterans alike) as well as other fresh features and elements. The streets of South Town are a hotbed of action, wild dreams, and even wilder ambition. Here, at long last, a new legend is about to unfold…

New Characters

Vox Reaper (voiced by Erik Ransom in English, Toshiyuki Toyonaga in Japanese) – This street assassin is dispatched to hunt down and eliminate Kain R. Heinlein. Though the attempt was thwarted, he emerges from the encounter hardly worse for wear. Kain’s bodyguard Grant, having realized the youth’s talent and potential, decides to take him under his wing thereafter. Afforded a new lease on life, and intent on fulfilling his dying master’s wishes (not to mention Kain’s own grandiose ambitions), Vox stalks the bloody battleground that is South Town—a demon reborn.

B. Jenet (voiced by Amber Lee Connors in English, Mikako Komatsu in Japanese) – Captain of the Lilien Knights, a crew of virtuous pirates, B. Jenet makes an altogether uncharacteristic decision. With Kain and Grant weighing on her mind during and after the events of the previous tournament, she chooses to stay in South Town, if not for a short while. Strangely unable to express her lingering thoughts out loud, she sees the upcoming KOF tournament as a true blessing in disguise: a chance to speak through action instead of words!

Watch a new set of trailers below. View a new set of screenshots at the gallery.

Announce Trailer #2

[noneedtofearorhope]

i wonder how stuff like so-called 'trading card games' might be able to work in a post-collapse/rev. im not really interested in the 'pro' end of the spectrum, where players simply go out an buy 4 copies (in the case of mtg) of the card they want, one because i just dont find it as interesting and two because it doesn't seem like a problem that would need solving at all. but when it comes to what, in my mind anyway, is the real core of tcgs, what makes them 'trading' card games, is stuff like booster packs. interested in how we might replicate that without the environmental costs of industrialization and packaging and the lot, as well as without the consumerist capitalist shit. i mean, it's a genre basically founded in scarcity, how do we imagine it in a post-scarcity world? beyond just using whatever has already been printed and survives, i don't really have any ideas myself.

[coloursofaparadox]

listen. okay. i know my car is held together with sheer force of will and gusto. but it is perfectly functional!!! yes, i have part of the panel on the trunk permanently removed so i can reach inside and manually pull the mechanism to latch it. and yeah, the drivers door handle only works because of some creative industrial strength zip ties. out of 4 doors i think two have the correct corresponding interior handles. half of them work. 2 out of 4 windows do not roll down, and 1 is on its last legs but still functioning due to a barbeque brush and silicone lube (and i have to push it down with my hands). and okay MAYBE it becomes undrivable when we go long stretches without rain because the front wiper fluid just sadly trickles down the hood and i have to use the whims of the weather to clean my windshield of grime. at least both wipers stay attached while driving and definitely 100% for sure always have (it was fine no one got hurt).

listen. she is doing her best. when i bought her the transmission fluid was brown. you know what colour its supposed to be? pale pink. sometimes oil just. leaves. doesn't leak! doesnt seem to be getting through a seal into the enginel! just. it goes. the amp and two 12 inch subwoofers in the back scream in audible pain when i rev the engine. the parking brake light comes on at random when it gets cold outside. im not sure what its trying to tell me and i dont care to find out. the clock only works when u hit it. im also like 80% sure that putting the gearshift in park doesn't actually work and the emergency brake is the only thing keeping it from rolling downhill, but also one time i drove with the parking brake on and didn't even notice the difference, so ?

anyways. uh. i forgot my point. she is driveable and functional and i love her.

[trolagygirl2022]

Foreigners in the K-pop industry?

The Devil, 6 of Wands, The Lovers rev, Queen of Wands rev, The Empress, The Moon.

Okay, we are going to see foreign idols (especially SEA, black and other races) at some point. However, I see companies trying to mold them to be more "Korean like" and "act more Korean" (After all it's K-pop so it kind of makes sense). This can go as far as wanting them to fit the KBS and such. They want to appease global fans for diversity but also want to appease to Koreans as well.

They will be well known, but this can lead to people hating on them due to that so they'll really have to work hard to "prove themselves". Visuals are really going to matter. The bigger the company, the more they'll fit the standard and all that (a good example is Hanni from NewJeans. Though she's Viet she fits the KBS a lot and had people think she was Korean).

They will also have to be really talented, more than their peers. K-pop stans won't be as merciful to them, (especially if they don't fit the standards). A lot of the hate they'll recieve is mostly going to be out of envy.

Companies will also try to "balance it out". So like a group would have like 4 Koreans, and 1 foreign idol for example. They'll also want idols that are "all rounders".

[apesoformythoughts]

“‘Researchers have identified a pattern in the molestation crisis afflicting the Roman Catholic Church: most of the victims are older boys.’

So begins an article by Rachel Zoll from March of last year. Hardly a surprising finding, you might think, but that’s because you’re not in the sex-abuse industry. The Vatican’s recent symposium on child abuse delivered the ‘state of the art information’ that—wait for it—‘the majority of cases in the American crisis involve adolescent males victimized by adult gay priests.’ And the concern we should have as a consequence of these discoveries is increased protection for vulnerable boys, right? Wrong again. ‘“What I’m afraid of is we’re going into this witch hunt for gays,” said the Rev. Stephen Rossetti, psychologist and sex abuse consultant to the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops.’

Rossetti, the former CEO of the St. Luke Institute, is the author of the article mentioned below in support of ‘reintegrating pedophiles.’ He was invited to address the bishops in Dallas this year, and had a ringside seat at the Vatican symposium in question. Surprised? Neither am I.” [4/7/03]

“Perhaps [child molesters’] presence in society can ultimately be healing for us. They challenge us to face an unconscious and primal darkness within humankind. Our inability to face this darkness causes us to stereotype and banish all who embody our estranged dis-passions. In the past, this process spawned Molokai and a host of other human prisons. Today, we are banishing the child molester.

From ‘The Mark of Cain: Reintegrating Pedophiles’, America, September 9, 1995. The Rev. Stephen Rossetti of the St. Luke Institute is one of the three or four experts who have taught the U.S. bishops most about child abuse.” [4/11/03]

— Paul Mankowski, SJ, in Diogenes Unveiled

[celebdeathnews]

How Did Chadwick Boseman Find Out He Had Cancer Before his Death?

After Chadwick Boseman passed away on Friday at the age of 43, it has been clear that few people, including Ryan Coogler and Spike Lee, were aware of the actor’s four-year battle with colon cancer.

Dr. Wayne A.I. Frederick, president of Howard University, stated in an interview with The Hollywood Reporter that he thought the alumnus appeared “smaller” when he dined with Boseman in 2019.

Boseman was questioned by Frederick about the difficulties of losing weight, who claimed that the actor did so for a particular role.

Frederick reported that the man “gave a long, thorough answer, saying that he was a vegetarian, was working out, and was trying to take care of himself and do what he had to do.” It was a highly considered reaction that did not indicate that anything else was going on.

Boseman “was genuinely in hard-core pain” when filming one of his final parts in Netflix’s upcoming “Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom,” according to Michael Greene, the actor’s agent, but it “was so exciting to him” to work with Denzel Washington on the August Wilson adaption.

According to Greene, she “always trained him not to have people fuss over him.” He was a very, very quiet person and believed that individuals in this industry tend to become overly emotional about things.

In a statement sent by Boseman’s family on social media on Friday, it was revealed that the actor had been battling the illness.

In the announcement, it was stated that Chadwick had battled with stage IV colon cancer for the past four years after receiving a stage III diagnosis in 2016.

“Chadwick, a true fighter, persisted despite everything and produced many of the movies you have grown to adore.

The movies “Marshall,” “Da 5 Bloods,” “Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom,” and many others were all shot during and in between multiple operations and rounds of chemotherapy. King T’Challa’s portrayal in Black Panther was the greatest professional honor of his life.”

Boseman’s “Black Panther” director revealed in an emotional homage that he wasn’t “privy to the circumstances of his condition” and only became aware of it after the statement.

“I came to understand that he had been coping with his condition the entire time I knew him. He protected his associates from his sorrow since he was a provider, a leader, and a man of religion, dignity, and pride “Coogler composed.

Did the Black Actor Die of Cancer?

Yes, The actor also portrayed trailblazing characters like Thurgood Marshall, Jackie Robinson, and James Brown, making him one of the most in-demand leading men of his generation.

By Hollywood standards, Mr. Boseman was a reclusive guy who infrequently made personal information public. He became famous as an actor somewhat late; he was 35 when he played Jackie Robinson in “42.” Nevertheless, he made up for lost time with a streak of star-making appearances in important biopics.

With roles as diverse as Thurgood Marshall in “Marshall,” James Brown in “Get On Up,” and T’Challa in “Black Panther,” Mr. Boseman became one of his generation’s most in-demand leading men because of his uncomplicated flexibility and classic gravity.

The news of his passing caused shock and grief to permeate society, and many notable individuals in the arts and public life paid respect to Mr. Boseman.

The actor’s portrayals of early Black leaders, according to Martin Luther King III, a human-rights activist and the eldest son of the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., “brought history to life on the silver screen.”

The Democratic presidential nominee Joseph R. Biden Jr., a former vice president, tweeted that actor Chadwick Boseman has “inspired generations and reminded them they can be anything they want – even superheroes.”

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[importersearchengine]

International Standard Industrial Classification of All Economic Activities (ISIC) Nedir?

Uluslararası Standart Sanayi Sınıflaması (ISIC) Rev.4’e göre ülkelere ait istatistiklere erişmek için aşağıdaki adımları izleyebilirsiniz: Türkiye İstatistik Kurumu (TÜİK): TÜİK, ISIC Rev.4 sınıflamasına göre çeşitli ekonomik faaliyetlere dair istatistikler sunmaktadır. Özellikle dış ticaret istatistikleri, imalat sanayi ürünlerinin ISIC Rev.4’e göre dağılımını içermektedir. Örneğin, Nisan…

[grandhotelabyss]

Nah the sweet release of death is better than the propoganda industrial complex making everyone cry for 4 years again

Well, yes, that might be true, especially now that the Democrats have re-revved their Hitler machine in the last two weeks of the campaign. This is likely part of their technique: "Vote for us and we'll stop this style of propaganda." But I have to think it might backfire. It really makes them seem like the more menacing party. As a leftist podcast used to like to ask of the right, "What are they giving themselves permission to do?"