#8 to abolition

[weedle-testaburger]

random topic i've realised is lowkey really interesting to me: regional history subjects. i like how even though basically everyone covers stuff like the middle ages and renaissance, the french revolution, stalin's russia, nazi germany, etc., you also usually do a whole bunch of history of the country you're from

[gatheringbones]

[“Girls are frequently arrested for trying to protect themselves from or fighting back against abusive parents. When police confronted Diana after a fight with her mother, Diana said, “I was like: ‘What the fuck, like look at my face she beat me up.’ They are like: ‘She called the cops on you, so you are at fault ’cause if she beat you up why didn’t you call the cops on her?’ Dude I don’t want to get my mom in trouble plus anyways it’s my word against her and although I am the one looking all torn up.”

Girls are also arrested because it is easier to remove one child from the home than to arrest a parent and find shelter for the children. As a probation officer explained,

Say the police respond to a case of domestic violence. You have a 3-year-old girl, a 16-year-old girl, and the mother fighting. Say the mother grabbed that girl and started pounding her face into cement. They’re not going to take Mom to jail when there is a 3-year-old daughter there. But they need to separate the two of them. So a lot of times it really is the parent’s fault but the kid gets hauled away.

Although few of these cases ultimately result in detention (often because the violence is minor), law professor Francine Sherman has noted that girls are “traumatized by arrest, handcuffing, and in some case shackling, routine strip searches upon entry into detention, and the perception that she is being blamed for what is a family problem.”

Dating violence also brings young people into the juvenile system. About 16 percent of girls and 8 percent of boys experience physical or sexual dating violence; 22 percent of LGB young adults report dating violence. Being subjected to intimate partner violence makes young people more vulnerable to juvenile system involvement. Girls are more likely to commit nonviolent delinquent acts (like running away) when experiencing intimate partner violence. Young people also become involved with the system because of their own violence. Girls use violence with partners to express anger and jealousy at a partner’s infidelity, protest a partner’s “emotional detachment,” or get a partner’s attention.

While some studies suggest that young men and women use violence in relationships at similar rates, those studies fail to account for the type, amount, impact, and reason for the violence. Girls’ violence is generally less serious and causes less injury. Girls reportedly slap and pinch their partners most often, while boys are more likely to punch or sexually assault partners. Moreover, studies of heterosexual couples find that boys do not experience girls’ violence as frightening or controlling. Half of boys report laughing at their female partners when they use violence. One-third ignored their partners when they were violent. Girls are also more likely to use violence defensively, fighting back against their partners. Mandatory and preferred arrest laws that cover dating relationships have been linked to increased arrests of girls for dating violence, with Black girls most likely to be arrested.”]

leigh goodmark, from imperfect victims: criminalized survivors and the promises of abolition feminism, 2023

[all-things-are-nothing-to-me]

I run a DIY anarchist zine distro. I recently started selling zines. 10 for 5$. No more than 20 per order. US only (that international shipping isn't worth paying trust me). I'm probably gonna end up losing money in the long run, but whatever. It's just me doing it too, so I'm moving through orders as fast as I can...aka whenever my gf isn't using the computer. I'm not Amazon so it might take a few days before I even start printing your zines but I toss in free stuff in every order. Also I might overcharge you a few bucks on shipping because the usps site doesn't have a "media mail" price calculator. I'm doing my best. Anyways if you want to buy some I made a noblogs.

These are the categories you can choose from.

1. RANDOM

2. New Releases *if anything new has recently come out*

3. Anarchy 101 & Social Anarchy

4. Anti-Colonial & Indigenous Resistance

5. Anti-Civilization & Green Anarchy

6. Anti-Fascist & Anti-Racist

7. Animal Liberation & Vegan/Straight Edge

8. Black Liberation & Black Anarchism

9. Community, Accountability & Relationship Anarchy

10. Communization & Communism

11. CCF, FAI, New Anarchy & The Black International

12. DIY & How-To

13. Gender, Patriarchy & Queer Anarchy

14. Harm Reduction

15. History & Intergenerational Memory

16. Insurrection

17. Individualist & Illegalist

18. Nihilism

19. Organizing & Mutual Aid

20. OPSEC, Security Culture & Counter-Repression

21. Post-Left & Anti-Left

22. Prison Abolition/Prisoner Writings

23. Theory & Strategy

[starfieldcanvas]

it can be hard to imagine an alternative to kinship guardianship, and historically attempts to systematically separate children from their parents en masse are all just tragically horrifically racist and genocidal, but you don't have to go full crèche; you just have to make it really fucking easy AND NORMAL for kids to seek distance from their parents or to seek backup from other adults

like. imagine a world where instead of little kids "running away" because they're mad at their parents (about something that's only unreasonable if you're 5), they instead all learn in school that if they call 888, someone from the Children's Agency* will come pick them up and take them to a sleepaway dorm, no questions asked and no shade on their parents—kids get crazy mad at even reasonable adults sometimes! and they deserve a safe place to cool down! and if they want to go back after, they should get to!

and this continues to be true forever. if the kid wants to leave they just leave. the sleepaway dorm probably isn't the coolest, but if you want to stay longer you tell an agent what stuff you need from your house and they get it for you.

if the need to legally prove neglect or abuse wasn't a factor, if the kid could just fucking walk out for whatever reason whenever they felt like, AND THAT WAS NORMAL, normal enough that kids would coordinate their 888 calls to have sleepovers and the sleepaway dorm was a couple long-stay traumatized kids with a rotating cast of decently well-adjusted kids exerting their independence and a very large cadre of kids in active negotiation with their parents about the terms of their return....

or mix in an alternative: the Cool Uncle Agent. if your parents are doing something you don't like and you're not sure if it's normal, you dial 888 and you invite the Cool Uncle Agent to stay with you and see whether your parents will keep doing the thing you don't like in front of them. or your parents can call the Cool Uncle Agent themselves if they know they're going to have to implement discipline you're not gonna like!

if your parents won't sign your permission slip for sex ed? cool uncle agent. parents too busy to go to your parent-teacher conference? cool uncle agent. parents don't believe in psychiatry and you think you need some? cool uncle agent. parents checked you into a psych ward? cool uncle agent can check you out!

(this isn't, like, one person; it would be whoever was on shift and available. cool uncle agent is 300 people assigned to your age bracket in your city. they probably try to give you the same dozen agents if they can but the priority is having someone available whenever a kid needs, like, a ride to the abortion clinic or whatever, not that they have a deep relationship.)

the crucial thing would be ease, normalcy, and free choice. the cool uncle agent doesn't steal you, you call him as your free normal adult backup who is legally authorized to act in loco parentis. even if your real parents are there being mad about it. the only consequence to your parents is that you do the thing they didn't want you to do. after all, if you wanted to leave, you'd just leave! nobody has to take them to court to prove they're bad parents! nobody has to go to jail!

it would just take a big chunk of the current american military budget, and a complete reshaping of the way we think about the rights of our children.

but i like to dream about that world sometimes.

(frankly that's what i want for adults too. every parent should have to compete with the Government Cheese of guardianship, and every landlord should have to compete with the Government Cheese of housing: basic, decent, impersonal, nothing to write home about, and free.)

*the Children's Agency...it's a pun. get it. because it gives children agency?

sorry i woke up in my rantsona. but like seriously isn't it fucking twisted that every child in almost every country are basically legal property of their parents. like their parents have complete control over where they can go, who they can talk to, which words out of their mouth are truth or lies; they're allowed, encouraged even, to be the sole interface by which the child connects to everything else in this world. like isnt that extraordinary. like how is it a mystery to anyone that children are constantly dying under parental abuse or growing up into utterly dysfunctional traumatised adults. why are we talking about these nebulous narratives of "the unstoppable and nuanced cycle of abuse" instead of looking straight at the reality we've built specifically for this purpose

[alwaysbewoke]

1. “Angela Davis: An Autobiography” by Angela Davis 2. “Elite Capture: How the Powerful Took Over Identity Politics (And Everything Else)” by Olúfẹ́mi O. Táíwò 3. “Digging our own Graves: Coal Miners and the Struggle over Black Lung Disease” by Barbara Ellen Smith 4. “1919” by Eve L. Ewing 5. “Assata Taught Me: State Violence, Racial Capitalism, and the Movement for Black Lives” by Donna Murch 6. “Finding my Voice” by Emerald Garner 7. “From #BlackLivesMatter to Black Liberation” by Keeanga-Yamahtta Taylor 8. “Let This Radicalize You: Organizing and the Revolution of Reciprocal Care” by Kelly E Hayes and Mariame Kaba 9. “An Enemy Such as This: Larry Casuse and the Fight for Native Liberation in One Family on Two Continents Over Three Centuries” by David Correia 10. “101 Changemakers: Rebels and Radicals who Changed US History” by by Michele Bollinger and Dao X Tran  11. “Class War, USA: Dispatches from Workers’ Struggles in American History” by Brandon Weber 12. “#SayHerNameBlack Women’s Stories ofPolice Violence and Public Silence” by Kimberlé Crenshaw and African American Policy Forum 13. “An Asian American A to Z: A Children’s Guide to Our History” by Cathy Linh Che and Kyle Lucia Wu 14. “Repair: Redeeming the Promise of Abolition” by Katherine Franke 15. “Haunted by Slavery: A Memoir of a Southern White Woman in the Freedom Struggle” by Gwendolyn Midlo Hall

x

[trans-axolotl]

i don't talk about intersex stuff on this blog as much as i used to but being intersex shapes so much of who i am and how i interact with the world. it shaped my transition (natural testosterone puberty -> getting forced onto estrogen and anti-androgens -> eventually going on testosterone but by that point i now had to get top surgery etc etc etc). i think a lot about what it was like being an intersex sex worker and the decisions i had to make about how i described myself to clients. my intersex variation is directly connected to my disabilities and me becoming a wheelchair user. being intersex influenced my passions, my interests, and my desired career path. so much of my entire approach to organizing came out of trying to find intersex community and understanding how incredibly isolated we are, when i found out i was intersex 8 years ago there were barely any resources. there is still no intersex organization in any city i have ever lived, and i only was in a room with other intersex people for the first time last year. that experience shaped how i think about things like coalition building, political education, and what community actually means when so many of us are so isolated we don't even know that others like us even exist in the world.

even before i really became involved in psych abolition organizing and before i was institutionalized for the first time, i intimately understood what medical trauma was like and the importance of having community care and healing outside of a medical system, because i'd been in rooms full of traumatized intersex people fighting to be there for each other, to find joy in the face of oppression that is completely ignored by most people. there's so many intersex people i've met who we just have that instant connection because there's so many things that we just immediately understand about each other, even if our lives are completely different and we've had totally different experiences.

i have so much love and solidarity with all the other intersex people i know and love and all the intersex people i have never met because it is so incredibly difficult to actually build and find this community in a world that systematically ignores and destroys our existence. and yet we are still here and every year i find more and more reasons for hope, these moments that make me think that maybe the next generation of intersex kids isn't going to grow up like we did.

[poniranje]

The Slav Epic No. 1: Slavs in Their Original Homeland, Between the Turanian Whip and the Sword of the Goths

The Slav Epic No. 2: The Celebration of Svantovit, When Gods Are at War, Salvation Is in the Arts

The Slav Epic No. 3: The Introduction of the Slavonic Liturgy, Praise the Lord in Your Native Tongue

The Slav Epic No. 4: The Bulgarian Tsar Simeon, The Morning Star of Slavonic Literature

The Slav Epic No. 5: The Bohemian King Přemysl Otakar II, The Union of Slavic Dynasties

The Slav Epic No. 6: The Coronation of the Serbian Tsar Stefan Dušan as East Roman Emperor, The Slavic Code of Law

The Slav Epic No. 7: Jan Milíč of Kroměříž, A Brothel Converted to a Convent

The Slav Epic No. 8: Master Jan Hus Preaching at the Bethlehem Chapel, Truth Prevails

The Slav Epic No. 9: The Meeting at Křížky, Utraquism

The Slav Epic No. 10: After the Battle of Grunwald, The Solidarity of the Northern Slavs

The Slav Epic No. 11: After the Battle of Vítkov Hill, God Represents Truth, Not Power

The Slav Epic No. 12: Petr Chelčický at Vodňany, Do Not Repay Evil With Evil

The Slav Epic No. 13: The Hussite King Jiří of Poděbrady, Treaties Are to Be Observed

The Slav Epic No. 14: Defense of Sziget Against the Turks by Nicholas Zrinsky, The Shield of Christendom

The Slav Epic No. 15: The Printing of the Bible of Kralice in Ivančice, God Gave Us a Gift of Language

The Slav Epic No. 16: The Last days of Jan Amos Komenský in Naarden, A Flicker of Hope

The Slav Epic No. 17: Holy Mount Athos, Sheltering the Oldest Orthodox Literary Treasures

The Slav Epic No. 18: The Oath of Omladina Under the Slavic Linden Tree, The Slavic Revival

The Slav Epic No. 19: The Abolition of Serfdom in Russia, Work in Freedom Is the Foundation of a State

The Slav Epic No. 20: Apotheosis of the Slavs, Slavs for Humanity

Alphonse Mucha

Source

[kjack89]

Dial Drunk

5 times Enjolras bailed Grantaire out of jail, and one time, well...

The door of the holding cell clanked open and as one, the nine men sitting inside glanced up. “Alright,” the booking officer said in a bored tone, glancing down at his clipboard. “Bail’s been posted for arrestees Bahorel, Combeferre, Courfeyrac, Enjolras, Feuilly, Joly, Lesgle and Prouvaire. You’re free to leave after you sign out at the front desk.”

There were a few grumbles as the men started to get to their feet, but Enjolras remained resolutely seated, his brow furrowed with a frown. “What about Grantaire?”

The man in question chuckled darkly, tilting his head back to rest it against the wall of the holding cell. “Is that actual concern for me that I hear, Apollo? I could die happy.”

Enjolras ignored him. “Pontmercy was supposed to post bail for all of us,” he said instead, aiming his words at Courfeyrac as if the man was somehow still responsible for the actions of his former roommate some five years after they had stopped living together.

Courfeyrac just shrugged. “Don’t look at me,” he said. “I mean, we all know Marius is a bit of an idiot, maybe he miscounted.”

Combeferre shook his head. “I’m probably wrong and should defer to the lawyers amongst us but I thought I remembered reading something in one of the articles about reforming pre-trial detention that an individual can only post bail for 8 detainees at a time.”

“And so I must’ve drawn the short straw,” Grantaire sighed. “Story of my fucking life.”

Bossuet clapped him sympathetically on the shoulder. “On the other hand, you could take it as a compliment that Marius thinks you’re the one most likely to survive an extended stay behind bars.”

Bahorel snorted so loudly the bars of the cell almost rattled. “Sorry but literally not a single one of us would survive an extended stay behind bars.”

“Speak for yourself,” Feuilly said. “I know how to whittle.” At the blank looks he received, he huffed a sigh and added, “So I can make a shank. No wonder none of you would survive in jail.”

“This is making our goal of prison abolition seem oddly self-serving,” Joly murmured in an undertone to Jehan, who stifled a laugh.

Combeferre cleared his throat. “Not that I’m not sympathetic to Grantaire having to be stuck in here, but I’d just like to remind everyone that since Marius posted bail, we’re technically now here voluntarily.”

“Yeah so GTFO,” Grantaire said with a grimace masquerading as a smile. “Let me rot in peace, etcetera.”

Enjolras looked like he wanted to argue more, but Combeferre muttered something in his ear and he made a face before filing out of the cell. “Serious miscalculation on Marius’s part with this one,” Courfeyrac said brightly as he followed everyone else out. “Because God knows you’re going to complain about this for the rest of all time.”

Grantaire gave him the finger and Courfeyrac winked as the officer closed the cell door behind him.

Sighing again, Grantaire sat upright, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck before settling back against the bench. “You need anything?” the booking officer asked.

Grantaire shook his head. “Nah,” he said dismissively. “Not my first rodeo. Hopefully I won’t be stuck overnight, but I’ve slept in worse places.”

“Oh, yeah?” the officer said with mild interest.

Grantaire nodded. “Central booking at the 16th Precinct is a piece of shit,” he said brightly.

The officer barked a laugh. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He gave Grantaire a long look. “Should I ask what you were picked up for previously?”

Considering the answer to that question was a vast litany of misdemeanors (and felonies reduced to misdemeanors) that the boys in blue tended not to appreciate, Grantaire hesitated. Thankfully, he was saved from having to answer at all by the crackle of the officer’s walkie-talkie. “Just a moment,” the officer told him, heading out of the booking area and Grantaire let out a sigh of relief as he slumped on the bench.

“You’re free to go,” the officer said upon returning, and Grantaire looked up, surprised.

“Really?”

The officer nodded, opening the door to the holding cell. “Bail was posted. So I guess you’ll have to save your rap sheet for the next time you’re in here.”

Grantaire snorted a laugh. “I’d say there won’t be a next time, but…” 

He ducked out before the officer could respond to that, making his way to the front desk, stopping in his tracks when he saw Enjolras leaning against the desk, clearly waiting for him. “What’re you doing here?”

Enjolras straightened. “It didn’t feel right leaving you in there,” he said with a shrug that didn’t quite come across as nonchalant as he’d probably intended. “And I happened to have some cash on me, so…”

“Between this and being worried about my welfare, you’re gonna give me the wrong impression,” Grantaire said.

“Guess that depends on what impression you’re getting,” Enjolras said, and Grantaire’s eyes flickered to his and away again, feeling suddenly tongue-tied. Enjolras cleared his throat, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “Anyway, we should get to the Musain to debrief.” He glanced at Grantaire. “Unless you’ve got something better to do.”

Grantaire just shook his head, and gestured for Enjolras to lead the way. “After you,” he said, his voice low, and together they walked out of the precinct, their arms just brushing against each other as they headed to meet their friends at the Musain.

— — — — —

“Jesus Christ,” Enjolras muttered as the booking officer removed the handcuffs from a sheepish-looking Grantaire. Well, as sheepish as a man sporting the beginnings of a pretty impressive black eye could look, anyway. “Here,” Enjolras said roughly, holding an ice pack out to Grantaire. “I posted your bail as well.”

“Thanks,” Grantaire muttered, taking the ice pack and wincing as he pressed it against his eye.

Enjolras pursed his lips as he gave him a once-over. “Any other injuries I need to worry about?” he asked.

Grantaire just shrugged. “Nothing that won’t heal on its own.”

“Because that’s reassuring,” Enjolras sighed, rubbing his forehead, but when he looked at Grantaire again, there was something almost soft in his expression. “You didn’t need to do that.”

What he could see of Grantaire’s expression tightened, just slightly. “You didn’t hear what that guy called you.”

He said it calmly, evenly, but his hand automatically balled into a fist at the memory. Enjolras reached out automatically to rest his hand on Grantaire’s fist until it relaxed. “It doesn’t matter what he called me,” he said, his voice low. “I can take care of myself.”

“Of course you can,” Grantaire scoffed. “But that doesn’t mean you should have to.”

Enjolras just shook his head, running his thumb across Grantaire’s bruised knuckles, a testament to the fact that despite the black eye, he’d emerged from the fight victorious. “I should’ve brought another ice pack,” he murmured.

Grantaire just half-smiled, twisting his hand so that he could lace his fingers with Enjolras’s. “It’s fine,” he said softly. “It doesn’t really hurt at the moment anyway.”

Enjolras cleared his throat and looked away, but he didn’t try to untangle his fingers from Grantaire’s. “Well,” he said, “we should, uh, get out of here.”

“Before they realize you have about a half dozen outstanding warrants for your arrest?” Grantaire asked with a smirk, his voice quiet enough that only Enjolras could hear.

“You’d be amazed what having a multi-million dollar settlement pending against the city will do to the police’s willingness to bring you in,” Enjolras said with a smirk. “Not that I want to test that, of course.”

“Liar,” Grantaire said, grinning. “But better safe than sorry, I suppose.”

He started toward the door, pausing when Enjolras didn’t immediately follow. “Thank you, by the way,” Enjolras said, and Grantaire glanced back at him.

“Anytime,” he said simply. “Thanks for bailing me out.”

Enjolras gave him a look that was half-amused, half-exasperated. “Just don’t go making a habit of it,” he warned. “One day I won’t be here to bail you out.”

“Only because you’ll probably be locked up with me,” Grantaire said.

“Well,” Enjolras murmured, not quite able to stop his smile, “you’re not wrong.”

— — — — —

Grantaire rested his elbows against the bars of the holding cell, his arms dangling into what was technically freedom on the other side. The booking officer, some new guy he didn’t recognize, gave him a look but didn’t say anything, which he took as a small victory, and he allowed himself a small smirk.

A smirk that faded as soon as he saw Enjolras, escorted by another officer. “No dice on bail?” Grantaire asked, seeing the look on Enjolras’s face.

Enjolras shook his head. “No, they’re going to go through the whole arraignment rigamarole. I’ve already let Pontmercy know.” He made a face, casting an irritated look at the booking officer who was pretending not to listen to their conversation. “Apparently they take battery of a police officer pretty seriously these days.”

“Can’t imagine why,” Grantaire muttered. Enjolras sighed and Grantaire gave him a look. “Don’t even start,” he warned. “This wasn’t about you not being able to take care of yourself—”

“That wasn’t what I was going to say,” Enjolras interrupted, his voice tight. “I’m well aware that cop would’ve bashed my head in if you hadn’t intervened.” He shook his head and sighed again. “I was going to say thank you.”

“Oh,” Grantaire said, managing a tight smile. “You’re welcome.”

Enjolras just shook his head again. “You still shouldn’t have done it,” he continued, “because honestly, I’m not worth all that—”

“You are, though,” Grantaire said, in a tone that brooked no argument. Enjolras scowled and Grantaire rolled his eyes. “Fine, then why don’t we make a deal?” he said. “I’ll stop defending you when you stop bailing me out.”

“At the rate you’re going, I won’t be able to anyway,” Enjolras said sourly. “Not without putting up some major collateral.”

Grantaire shook his head. “And I’m definitely not worth that,” he said.

Enjolras’s eyes met his. “You are, though.”

For a moment, it looked like Grantaire might argue. Instead, he reached for Enjolras’s hand, bringing it up to kiss his knuckles through the bars of the holding cell. “No touching,” the booking officer barked, and Grantaire rolled his eyes as he reluctantly let go of Enjolras’s hand. 

“Will you be at my arraignment?” he asked.

Enjolras shrugged. “Someone’s got to post whatever bail amount the judge decides,” he said.

Grantaire half-smiled. “In that case, I’ll be the one in the front.” 

“Pretty sure that’ll be the judge,” Enjolras murmured, grinning when Grantaire rolled his eyes. “I’ll see you tomorrow. I promise.”

“It’ll be the only thing that gets me through spending the night in here,” Grantaire told him, and it was Enjolras’s turn to roll his eyes, though there was obvious affection in the motion.

“Pretty sure Bahorel was right,” he said. “You definitely wouldn’t survive in jail.”

Grantaire just shrugged. “Only if you were in there with me.”

Enjolras shook his head, reluctantly backing away toward the door. “Still time,” he said, and Grantaire’s eyes narrowed.

“Don’t you dare do anything stupid while I’m locked up in here.”

Enjolras just smirked. “See you tomorrow,” he called over his shoulder as he left, and Grantaire sighed, though there something strangely content in the noise, despite, or maybe because of, the circumstances.

— — — — —

Grantaire didn’t meet Enjolras’s eyes as he rapped his fingers impatiently against the front desk at the precinct, waiting for them to bring him his personal effects. “Do you have any idea what time it is?” Enjolras asked, his voice tight. Grantaire looked pointedly at the conspicuous clock on the wall and Enjolras’s scowl deepened. “Exactly, it’s 2 in the fucking morning. I have a 7 o’clock meeting, which you knew damn well, so why you had to go pick a bar fight with some guy twice your fucking size—”

“So sorry to be an inconvenience to you,” Grantaire drawled, slurring his words just slightly. “Can’t imagine what it must be like to have made plans that get interfered with by someone else’s priorities.”

Enjolras ground his teeth together. “Are we really doing this here and now?” he asked.

Grantaire just jerked a shrug, not meeting his eyes. “Do you have something better to do?”

Enjolras sighed and scrubbed a tired hand across his face. “I’m sorry that I had to cancel tonight,” he said, with as much patience as he could seemingly muster, considering the circumstances. “But I needed to get this proposal done ahead of the meeting tomorrow, and I don’t really see what the big deal—”

“You never do,” Grantaire interrupted, still not looking at him. “That’s the problem.”

“You knew going into this—”

“Just like you knew going into this that I’m a drunk and a disaster,” Grantaire interrupted, finally looking at Enjolras, his expression hard. “Well, congratulations, Apollo, it looks like we both knew what we were getting into and yet somehow, we’re both still disappointed.”

Enjolras just shook his head. “I’m not,” he said tiredly. “I’m not disappointed, Grantaire, because that would require me to actually expect better from you, and I learned my lesson on that a long time ago.”

Grantaire just grinned, a horrible, twisted grin. “Right back atcha.”

The officer returned with Grantaire’s belongings, and Grantaire grabbed his phone, wallet and keys, returning them to his pockets. Enjolras took a deep breath, but whatever he clearly wanted to say seemed to stick in his throat, and he looked away. “C’mon,” he said instead. “Let’s go home.”

Grantaire nodded once, shoving his hands in his pockets as he slumped after Enjolras, neither man touching the other.

— — — — —

“He’s not technically under arrest,” the cop told Enjolras as he led him back to the holding cell. “But that’s because we couldn’t really mirandize him when he was passed out.”

Enjolras eyed Grantaire, sprawled across the bench in the holding cell, and sighed. “So once he’s coherent, he’ll be charged with, what, drunk and disorderly?”

The officer nodded. “Yeah.” He glanced at Enjolras. “Look, it’s not my place, but, uh, maybe look into getting your friend some help?”

“Yeah,” Enjolras murmured, his expression drawn. “Maybe.” He sighed and turned. “Guess I’ll go preemtively pay his bail—”

“Apollo?” Grantaire croaked, and Enjolras sighed again.

“Give us a moment?” he asked the officer, who just shrugged.

Enjolras crossed to the bars of the holding cell, his arms crossed tightly in front of his chest. “Tell me,” he said, his tone clipped, “were you trying to get hit by a car by passing out in the street, or would have just been a fun little side effect of this spectacular attempt at blowing up your life?”

Grantaire groaned as he forced himself into a sitting position. “Honestly don’t remember if it was deliberate or not,” he muttered, swaying slightly as he blinked unfocusedly at Enjolras.

“There are easier ways of killing yourself,” Enjolras said.

Grantaire managed a small, sharp smile. “Don’t worry, I’ve considered those as well.”

Enjolras’s expression tightened and he looked away. “You used your one phone call for me,” he said.

Grantaire shrugged. “Didn’t know who else to call.”

“Probably anyone besides your ex.” Grantaire flinched and Enjolras sighed before telling him, as firmly as he could manage, “This is the last time. Do you understand?”

Grantaire barked a dry, humorless laugh. “If there’s one thing I can promise, Apollo, it’s that this won’t be the last time.”

“Maybe not for you,” Enjolras said. “But I’m done. So the next time you get picked up for a bar fight or public intoxication or whatever suicidal shit you decide to get yourself into next time, call someone else.”

He didn’t wait for Grantaire to answer, just turning on heel to leave him in the holding cell while he went to go pay his bail.

One last time.

— — — — —

The phone rang, and rang again, and Grantaire’s grip on the phone tightened. “Come on,” he muttered to himself. “Come on, pick up, pick up.”

But the phone just rang until the tinny, robotic voice informed him that no voicemail had been set up for this phone number, and he heaved a sigh as he hung up, a headache blooming in his temples that had absolutely nothing to the better part of a handle of whiskey that he’d worked his way through that evening. 

“Nothing?” the booking officer asked, and Grantaire ground his teeth together at the fake sympathetic tone.

“Nope,” he said, popping the ‘p’, and he scrubbed a hand across his face before heading back to the holding cell.

The booking officer trailed after him. “Do you, uh, want to try calling someone else?”

Grantaire just shook his head. “No,” he said, crossing his arms in front of his chest as the officer opened the door of the cell for him. “I’ll try again later. He’s probably asleep.”

The officer glanced up at the clock that showed it was barely 10pm, and he shook his head as he closed the door after Grantaire. “Your choice,” he said with a shrug.

Grantaire sighed heavily as he slumped down onto the hard metal bench, his fingers twitching as if he wanted to reach for an absent glass or bottle of beer, or else for a hand that used to be his to hold. His throat felt tight and he swallowed hard, tilting his head back to rest it against the wall of the holding cell.

He closed his eyes against the tears that he could feel prick in the corners of his eyes, though he honestly didn’t know if he was crying because Enjolras hadn’t picked up, or because there was a part of him that still thought that maybe, in the morning, he would. One more time.

[fight-nights-at-freddys]

back at it on r/antiship. for the hell of it, let's go thru why these are strawman arguments at best, stupid at worst, or why what they're saying is objectively true!

TL;DR, half of the things they say are correct, but are framed as being bad things, and the other half is just misinterpreting what proshippers actually say. also they don't know what "normalization" or "romanticization" mean.

hiding under the cut so y'all don't gotta scroll for years

-first pic- that isn't the reason conservatives think lgbt ppl are pedos. they'd think that regardless of what fiction they like, because no matter what, they'd see us as predators/pedos/whatever bad thing. q art will always be inherently problematic to conservatives.

the reason WHY people equate "problematic" fanfic/art to q art is because they both deserve to be protected, they both are often called "degenerate", and that if they censor one, they'll censor both, because to the people that want to censor it, they're both one and the same. it's always "too sexual", or "what if kids see it", or "it promotes the Bad Thing", and just because they're pointing the gun at "problematic" fiction rn, doesn't mean they won't turn the gun on YOU.

-second pic- 1. fiction doesn't affect reality! at least not on a 1:1 basis! correct! 2. that is also correct! i can be interested in violent, gory movies, but i don't like OR condone violence or gore irl! correct! 3. if it walks, talks, and acts like a puritan, it's probably a puritan. stop advocating for censorship and puritanism and we won't call you that. 4. correct again! it isn't mine or anyone else's job to monitor what other people's kids do on the internet. the internet is not for children. 5. hate to say it, because i don't wanna say ANYONE protects predators, but antis do tend to create spaces where preds can sneak around undetected as long as they say The Right Thing™. 6. if you're allowing your 6 yr old to watch videos that say "fluttershy supports MAPs!", then you need to take away the ipad, not start banning shit. 7. gonna keep it real, idk what this means. stop using these words, i guarantee you they don't mean what you think they mean. 8. same as above 9. what 10. okay great, good for you that you only know ONE predator that's an anti. what about the hundreds of others that lurk in the shadows because they say the right thing, and pretend not to like problematic stuff? what about Kyle Carrozza, ya know, the anti that was arrested not too long ago? feel like we're ignoring some stuff here for the sake of pretending your side's good, and ours is bad.

-third pic- 1. well, antis are, aren't they? if you think csem should be criminalized (and it should), and you equate fanart to actual csem, then yes, you ARE trying to criminalize fantasy. 2. two things. for one, it's not always a sexual thing. hell, half the time it isn't. and two, fetishes DON'T hurt anyone (unless the whole point is to hurt someone, but there's always consent!) 3. correct! fictional characters don't have rights. are you advocating for them to? 4. you can't act like porn abolition isn't a cornerstone argument for A LOT of antis. if you agree that fictional smut is bad, chances are you think porn's bad, too. (which also overlaps with radfem beliefs too!) 5. they're not blood related because they're NOT REAL. it doesn't matter if they say they're blood related, because they're fictional. 6. are you insinuating you need to get consent from these fictional characters before you ship them? 7. why should i care? does it hurt anyone? no. does it do any damage? no. is there any downside whatsoever? no? then what does it matter. let people do what they want forever.

[anotherhumaninthisworld]

I have just recently gotten into the frev community and i was wondering about the revolutionaries opinions on colonization and slavery and such. do you have any sources that detail that? or any names that stick out against those things?

I’m not particulary read up on that topic just yet, but here are some sources that can all be read for free:

The Problem of Civil Rights for Free Men of Color in the Early French Revolution (1972)

Racial Equality, Slavery, and Colonial Secession during the Constituent Assembly (1989)

The Société des Amis des Noirs and the Abolition of Slavery (1972)

Who Is a Citizen? The Boundaries of "La Patrie": The French Revolution and the People of Color, 1789-91 (1989)

The Abolition of Slavery in the North, West, and South of Saint Domingue (1985)

Robespierre, les colonies et l'esclavage (1994)

Robespierre et la liberté des noirs en l'an II d'après les archives des comités et les papiers de la commission Courtois (2001)

Brissot as a Humanitarian — La Societe des Amis des Noirs, chapter 8 (p. 182-216) of Brissot de Warville; a study in the history of the French revolution (1915)

[mydaddywiki]

Peter Bottomley

Physique: Average Build Height: 5’ 8" (1.73 m)

Sir Peter James Bottomley (born 30 July 1944-) is a British Conservative Party politician who has served as a Member of Parliament (MP) since 1975, and who currently represents Worthing West. First elected at a by-election in the former constituency of Woolwich West, he served as its MP until its abolition at the 1983 general election, and then for the Eltham constituency which replaced it, until 1997. He moved to his current constituency at the 1997 general election. Following the 2019 general election, Bottomley became the longest-serving MP and therefore Father of the House.

Cute grandpa type. And the british accent puts him over the top. I wonder if he is what his name implies! Doesn't matter anyway as I'd happily do him.

Born in Newport, Shropshire, England, UK, Bottomley was educated at Westminster School and Trinity College, Cambridge. He previously worked as a lorry driver and in commerce and industry, including in the steel and engineering sectors. He is qualified in personnel management.

In 1967, Bottomley married Virginia Garnett who later became a Cabinet Minister (Health Secretary), and a life peer in 2005 as Baroness Bottomley of Nettlestone. Together they have three children.

[starblaster]

Today, an associate of mine from the Prairielands Freedom Fund informed me that a defendant they've been working with was, yesterday, unjustly sentenced to 5 years in prison. He should have received a deferred judgement. Brandon Jones is a black man and he has 3 children.

I don't normally make posts like this, but I want to share this here in the hopes that it will have further reach. Brandon Jones is a member of my community and he does not deserve to be ripped away from his family like this.

Here is a statement from my friends at Prairielands Freedom Fund:

Pictured above from left to right are Brandon Jones, his three children, and his partner, Lily Lindle, at Wilson's Orchard in Iowa City.

On March 25, 2024, "District Court judge sentenced PFF participant Brandon Jones, a Black father, to a five-year prison sentence. We posted bond for Brandon in January after he had pleaded guilty but couldn’t pay his bond. He spent two months in Johnson County Jail, a particularly cruel separation where he was apart from his newborn baby over the holidays.

Brandon’s case is emblematic of the cruel, racist punishments inflicted upon Black folks in our carceral system. Separating Brandon from his family inflicts a layer of violence upon their lives — and it does not do anything for public safety.

We’re committed to rallying behind Jones’ family and his partner Lily, and the best way we can support them right now is with financial support. Lily is now a sole provider — it’s crucial that she gets the economic support she needs.

In September 2023, Brandon’s 8-year old son was suspended and told to walk home, alone and in the cold, from an Iowa City School District elementary school. Brandon went to the school to speak with the principal about the situation. Accidentally bringing his legal firearm with him into the school, Brandon was arrested, charged, and held on a $30,000 cash-only bond.

School staff claim they were threatened by Brandon’s presence in the school, and prosecutors jumped at the chance to make an example out of Brandon. Prosecutors claim this case is about public safety — and yet, their target is a Black father who showed up to his son’s school to advocate for his family. This situation starts and ends with racism. We know our district suspends and expels Black children at higher rates. And the reaction from school staff cannot be extricated from Brandon’s existence as a Black man, advocating for his son, a Black student who was suspended.

Brandon took full accountability for his mistake, as evidenced by his guilty plea. His legal team asked the judge to simply give him probation, allowing him to continue caring for his young family. But today, Brandon was sentenced to five years behind bars.

Brandon’s situation so perfectly epitomizes why abolition matters. Abolitionist principles urge us to think expansively about what safety means. By separating Brandon from his family, they are all less safe — especially when considering economic and emotional safety.

[This] outcome was not what we wanted, but we remain committed to supporting this family, and creating a better system than the one they were victimized by today."

Lily Lindle has started a GoFundMe so that she can receive some assistance with raising and caring for the Jones kids: https://www.gofundme.com/f/support-the-jones-family-in-iowa-city

[max1461]

Just to start shit: prison abolition and SBF?

I obviously have anti-carceralist tendencies and can't help but feel that it's horrible that this human being will be confined to a torture box for > 30 years. Supposedly he's likely to go to a medium-security prison, which is obviously not the worst but is still pretty fucked up. On the other hand, it's hard for me to come up with an example of what restorative justice would look like for stealing 8 billion dollars off the top of my dome. So there's that.

[beyondthisdarkhouse]

Disclaimer: I love and use the Metric system and am in NO WAY advocating for its abolition

However,

I really fucking love old, bizarre, hard-to-calculate measurement systems. Sometimes they're fairly simple, and sometimes they evoke a world for me where people got very into one particular realm of expertise and did not worry much about the minutiae of others. Because if they did that profession's guild would send around enforcers to stop them from encroaching onto their turf.

Practical example: Eggs! I've always bought eggs in the dozen. But the dozen is itself a unit of measurement, and it blew my mind when I first learned of places that sold eggs in units of 10.

Meanwhile, horses only make sense in Horse. They're measured in hands, half-hands, and quarter-hands. One hand is 4 inches. The decimal system works in base four, so 14.2 hands means 14 hands and 2 inches. (That's 58 inches, measured from the hump just before a horse's neck begins. It's also about the size of a large pony or small horse.)

Carats. In ye oldey dayes, a troy ounce (1/12 of a troy pound) was made up of 24 ounce carats, which were divisible into 20 grains troy, or, four ounce grains (a totally different thing from grain grains) which could then make four ounce quarters of 1.5 grains each. What the fuck. Wheels within wheels.

(Yes, that's why we talk about "24 carat gold", meaning that as close as is humanly possible, all 24 carats of the ounce are pure gold. It's a great fineness for a ring that will get the absolute shit beaten out of it if you work with your hands.)

Nautical miles should bother me more but honestly they make way more sense than the other miles do because I've read Longitude. It's 1/60 of 1/360 of the circumference of the earth. The earth is a giant sundial. I can't explain it any more clearly than that.

Bushels. Bushels don't make sense anymore but we still pretend they do. "A bushel of oats weighs 34 pounds," we say. "A bushel of barley is 48." Back in MY day, a bushel was 8 dry gallons, 4 pecks, or 2 kennings, and that's the way we LIKED it.

Board feet. My brother handles lumber for a living and he's explained it to me half a dozen times but I still don't and maybe never will understand board feet.

[whencyclopedia]

Roger Williams

Roger Williams (l. 1603-1683 CE) was a Puritan separatist minister best known for his conflict with both the Plymouth Colony and Massachusetts Bay Colony in 1633-1635 CE, resulting in his banishment and founding of the colony of Providence, Rhode Island. Williams believed that the clergy of both Plymouth and Massachusetts Bay were corrupt in continuing to adhere to the concept of one's deeds as an important aspect of spiritual salvation rather than acknowledging the biblical precept that only God's grace grants salvation (Romans 8:32, Ephesians 2:8). Further, he claimed, these churches were still aligned with the basic policies of the Anglican Church they had supposedly rejected.

Williams is also well-known as an advocate for the separation of church and state (claiming that politics poisoned religious practice and belief), complete religious freedom, the abolition of slavery in the colonies of North America, and respect for Native Americans. One of his criticisms of the colonies of New England was that they felt free to take land from the Native Americans without payment. When he founded Providence, he paid the Narragansett tribe a fair price for the land.

Providence became the first successful liberal colony in New England which was not informed by Puritan ideals and theology. Anyone of any religion or ethnicity was welcome to settle there as long as they recognized the fundamental human right of what Williams called the "liberty of conscience" – the freedom to express one's self - especially in religious matters, without fear of persecution or reprisal. Providence was scorned by the Massachusetts Bay Colony, especially, as populated by riffraff, lunatics, and heretics but became one of the fastest-growing settlements in the region under Williams' vision and guidance. In the modern day, parks, schools, and memorials around Rhode Island are named in his honor.

Early Life & Migration

Roger Williams was born, probably in London, England, in 1603 CE, the son of a merchant, James Williams, and wife Alice. Records of his early life were lost in the Great Fire of London in 1666 CE. As a young man, he was educated first at Charterhouse School and then Cambridge University's Pembroke College where he mastered a number of languages including Dutch, French, Greek, Hebrew, and Latin. He was intensely interested in religious matters from a young age and studied to become an Anglican cleric. At Cambridge, however, he was drawn to Puritan theology and practice which would later set him at odds with the Anglican Church.

The Anglican Church, although founded in opposition to Catholicism, still retained a number of Catholic aspects in its organization, worship service, and beliefs. The Puritans were Anglicans who objected to any Catholic influences or observances in the Church and wished to 'purify' it, bringing it in line with the simple practices and beliefs of the first Christian community as depicted in the biblical Book of Acts. The more radical Puritans were known as separatists – those who felt the Anglican Church was wholly corrupted by Catholic influences and separated themselves from it completely – and, in time, Williams aligned himself with this theology and belief.

During his years at Cambridge, Williams was apprenticed to the famous jurist Sir Edward Coke (l. 1552-1634 CE), an independent and courageous thinker whose insistence on the concept of equality before the law brought him into conflict with the monarchy. Coke's unwavering stand for justice, as well as his practice of regularly speaking out against policies or even laws he considered unjust or inequitable, significantly influenced Williams' outlook and later actions.

The Anglican Church had replaced the pope with the English monarch as its head and so any criticism of the Church was considered treason against the crown. Throughout the reign of James I of England (1603-1625 CE), Puritans who voiced dissent were persecuted, fined, and jailed, some even executed, and under Charles I of England (r. 1625-1649 CE), these persecutions continued. Recognizing that England was no longer safe for an outspoken Puritan separatist, Williams left with his wife Mary in 1630 CE.

Continue reading...

[octopustoaster]

This disability pride month remember that if you want to support disabled people you also must support the abolition of the police and prisons.

I'm coming at this from a psychotic point of view and an American point of view, because that is what I know, but I'm sure this goes just as much for those with other disabilities.

If you see someone having a mental health episode, do not call the police. 27% of police killings are people with mental health issues, and somewhere between 33% and 50% of police violence is against disabled people.

Pleading guilty by insanity is often worse than going to prison, and between 25% and 40% of people will mental illness will go to prison at some point in their life. 8% of prisoners have a conviction that is directly attributed to their psychosis.

Disability is criminalized, and disabled people die every day because of it. The police are not our friends, and prisons have replaced the mental health infrastructure the US used to have. If you want to support disabled people, understand that these systems are killing us.