#Bankruptcy risk

[jay-weller]

Navigating Employment Challenges After Bankruptcy

Navigating Employment Challenges After Bankruptcy - #jayweller #bankruptcy, #Bankruptcyassistance, #Bankruptcyattorney, #BankruptcyLawyer, #Clearwater, #CreditCounseling, #CreditScore, #FilingForBankruptcy, #Tips, #WellerLegalGroup - https://www.jayweller.com/navigating-employment-challenges-after-bankruptcy/

[findstenicht]

apparently the next step in my dad's plan for retirement is to move to ghana for three months and spend the majority of his savings on 'coming up with an idea.' like. genuinely. hes very serious about this. his whole plan is 1. move to ghana 2. spend money 3. ???? 4. profit. how is this man real

[thelovebudllc]

Greenpeace Faces $300 Million Lawsuit That Puts the Longtime Environmental Nonprofit at Risk of Bankruptcy

Greenpeace USA projects messages around Dallas, Texas to highlight the growing threat to free speech and peaceful protest, on Feb. 11, 2025. Greenpeace Why you can trust us Founded in 2005 as an Ohio-based environmental newspaper, EcoWatch is a digital platform dedicated to publishing quality, science-based content on environmental issues, causes, and solutions. Greenpeace is being sued by…

[umilily]

Can we see your bumblebee cup?

sure! it's my favourite :)

[timesofocean]

Turmoil in banking industry could be current biggest threat to global economy

New Post has been published on https://www.timesofocean.com/turmoil-in-banking-industry-could-be-current-biggest-threat-to-global-economy/

Turmoil in banking industry could be current biggest threat to global economy

London (The Times Groupe) – High interest rates, particularly in Europe, could pose the most immediate threat to the global economy due to turmoil in the banking sector.

Markets were shaken by the bankruptcy of Silicon Valley Bank (SVB) and Signature Bank in the US last month, as well as Saudi National Bank’s announcement that it would not be increasing its stake in Swiss-based Credit Suisse. interests interests  global economy

UBS, Switzerland’s largest bank, bought Credit Suisse with government assistance for 3 billion Swiss francs ($3.2 billion). times

As countries around the world struggle with a cost of living crisis and central banks have been raising interest rates to lower persistent inflation, the turmoil in the banking industry came at a bad time.

In an interview with Anadolu, Jon Danielsson, the director of the Systemic Risk Centre at the Department of Finance at the London School of Economics, explained that increasing interest rates to combat high inflation causes banks that have bonds and loans to lose value.

Early in March, SVB announced that it had sold its $21 billion bond portfolio at a loss of $1.8 billion. A discount of $16.5 billion was offered to First Citizens Bank for the deposit and loan portfolio of SVB after it was quickly closed by US regulators.

“When central banks raise interest rates, the aim is to slow growth. The fact that bond prices have fallen is part of the normal consequence when you raise interest rates a lot. That is a channel, the transmission of policy rates onto real activity,” Michael Saunders, a senior economic advisor at Oxford Economics and a former member of the Monetary Policy Committee at the Bank of England, told the Turkish state-run news agency Anadolu.

The US banks tightened lending standards before the recent strains in the banking system, reflecting higher interest rates and slower economic growth expectations, and those who failed had poor management.

[san8ny]

‘HITTIN MY PHONE IS SO RIGHT !

?: You can’t seem to put an end to a salacious affair between you and your boss. However, lately with the new cameras being installed around units, it’s getting increasingly risky for you two. What’ll it be, your job or Abby’s? / A.A x Fem!Reader

!: hellurrrr.. xD haven’t proof-read this ngl bc my eyes hurt/ ALSO AN OLD DRAFT I HATE..im srry :P

“Fuckin’ hell..she’s just clamping onto me..” Abby coos from where her head is thrown back on the office chair; you, on her lap, rocking your hips deliciously into her, each snap feeling like a tidal wave of pleasure surging through Abby’s veins. You’d never in a hundred years think this would be a common event that took place between you and your employer after hours, a dirty secret that was buried deep within Abby’s Law-Firm.

“S-shitttt, don’t speak like that..” You whine, digits burying themself into Abby’s Golden locks when it seems like her pace speeds up; “Can’t when this messy cunt ‘s talking to me..” Abby takes a sharp inhale of air when you rip open the first two buttons of her blazer, scattering across the room.

“Not fair..’wanna take ‘em off..” You whine, wrapping your arms tighter around your lovers neck— soft tits pressed up into Abby’s face where she sneakily kisses around your areola, taking a nipple into her warm mouth, earning a weak huff from you.

“Shh..gotta be quiet, doll..can’t risk having you heard.” She whispers against your skin, pulling you down to press a messy kiss against your lips, “that I have ‘fuckin favorites…”; You shriek when she manages to slam you even harder on the XL strap, the one that’s tied oh-so-perfectly around her hips.

The buzzing on her desk brings her away from your lips and her attention instead, is on the lit-up phone, grabbing it with ease as she maintains a rhythm with how she bounces you, caller ID reading OWEN.

“Not this timing..” She groans, shushing your mewls once again when she takes your head and slightly angles it into her neck as an attempt to muffle your noises while she takes the call; “Get to the point.”

While she talks, you sink your teeth into her nape unexpectedly, illiciting a dirty, guttural moan from Abby to the point she almost lets the phone slip out of her grasp, “Uh..you okay?” Owen asks, confused at what was happening on the other end of the phone as he peels an orange; Abby hums at this, poorly trying to reaffirm Owen with eyes clenched closed as you leave harsh hickeys on her neck, ones she’d have to indefinitely cover up all week with series of collered pantsuits.

“P-please, ‘Abs..”You pant, saliva stretching from your quivering lips to her bruised neck. Abby pathetically caves in, murmuring mantras of ‘hear you, baby’ into the humid office air, head spinning and the call long forgotten as she throws it across the desk; her obsession with you ran deep, from the very moment you stepped into the office scene, all pencil skirts and painted lips— you were something she needed around here, and maybe the only thing that kept her hauled up in this shit-hole while all her other colleagues ran themselves into bankruptcy and alcoholism.

“I’ll give it to my sweet girl, ‘always do..ah—? S-she just needs to be ‘fuckin patient..” Abby’s breath hitching when you scrape your nailbeds across her, now, unclothed back. “You’re so—o ‘fuckin nasty..begging to fuck when they’ve installed surveillance every square inch of the damn place—love my pretty g-girl..”

“G-gna cum, pleaseee.. if you keep ‘talkin to me like t—this!” You stutter out with furrowed brows, annoyance and arousal a mixture when she picks you up and slams you directly against the desk now, a stark contrast to where you two were meekly teasing eachother earlier on her swivel chair but shit, does this angle make you take her even deeper..

After some time of her relentlessly pounding into you, and tears falling from your glossy eyes, down your full cheeks— you finally crack. This doesn’t end it, no, because after 2 orgasms ripped out of you— Abby leans down and kisses your cheek softly, her lips lingering condescendingly, “one more before we go, hm? Then we’ll clock out and i’ll take us home, baby”, all while two fingers work figure 8’s on your puffy clit, soothing you through the aftershocks of your orgasm.

Home?

You look at her up from heavy lidded eyes, sleep wanting to consume you completely but you oblige, mewling when Abby lowers herself to her knees and begins kitten-licking at your sensitive pussy; maybe you were obsessed with the blonde as much as she was with you, even if it could cost you both your jobs potentially one day.

[disteal]

Everyone’s a hedonism enjoyer until the 40 year old epic rap battles guy spends 50k on a three minute softcore selfship AMV of a character from hazbin hotel chasing down and mounting him. It’s ‘seize the day’ and ‘live mas’ until you blow all the patreon money you raised to save your youtube channel and immediately plunge yourself into bankruptcy. Risking it all for this;

EDIT: to clarify, not an epic rap battles of history guy, its THIS guy

[fans4wga]

SAG-AFTRA Takes Up Bethenny Frankel’s Fight To Unionize Reality Show Contestants & End “Exploitative Practices”

August 10, 2023

"SAG-AFTRA, which covers the hosts but not the contestants on reality TV competition shows, said today that it’s working “toward the protection of the reality performers” in an effort to end “the exploitative practices that have developed in this area” and “to engage in a new path to union coverage.”

“We are tired of studios and production companies trying to circumvent the union in order to exploit the talent that they rely upon to make their product,” the guild said.

The announcement comes after Bethenny Frankel, a former star of The Real Housewives of New York City, suggested that reality performers should go on strike in order to win residuals for their work and to combat abuses in the workplace. Reality show hosts, but not contestants, are covered by the guild’s Network Code, which is not part of its strike against films and scripted TV shows.

“Why isn’t reality TV on strike?” Frankel said in a recent TikTok video. “I got paid $7,250 for my first season of reality TV, and people are still watching those episodes.” Reality stars, she said, “are the stepchildren, the losers, the mules, the pack horses. The ones that the entertainment industry is going to rely on, right now, to carry the water and do the heavy lifting when real stars, real A-list Hollywood is on strike.”

She added, “Reality television exploits affairs, bankruptcy, falling off the wagon, not really having what you say you have, something inappropriate, risking cancellation every single time the camera goes on.”

To address the alleged abuse of reality stars, she’s engaged high-powered attorneys Bryan Freedman and Mark Geragos to investigate the alleged abuse of reality stars.

In a statement today, SAG-AFTRA said that it “has engaged in discussions with Bryan Freedman at the Freedman + Taitelman, LLP law firm who has been retained by Bethenny Frankel around the subject of treatment of reality performers. SAG-AFTRA is the union that represents reality performers. Depending on the structure of the production and the performers involved, we can cover these performers under our Network Code Agreement.

“We stand ready to assist Bethenny Frankel, Bryan Freedman and Mark Geragos along with reality performers and our members in the fight and are tired of studios and production companies trying to circumvent the Union in order to exploit the talent that they rely upon to make their product.

“We encourage any reality performers and/or members to reach out to SAG-AFTRA’s Entertainment Contracts Department so that we may work together toward the protection of the reality performers ending the exploitative practices that have developed in this area and to engage in a new path to union coverage.”

“Please be advised that the day of reckoning has arrived,” Freedman, working with Geragos, said in a letter sent to NBCUniversal on Aug. 3. “While our investigation is still ongoing, we have reason to believe that cast members and crewmembers on NBC reality TV shows have been subjected to disturbing mistreatment by NBCUniversal and/or its employees, contractors, and third-party affiliates.”

Building off Frankel’s union aims, the list of such mistreatment that Freedman lays out includes:

Deliberate attempts to manufacture mental instability by plying cast members with alcohol while depriving them of food and sleep.

Denying mental health treatment to cast members displaying obvious and alarming signs of mental deterioration.

Exploiting minors for uncompensated and sometimes long-term appearances on NBC reality TV shows.

Distributing and/or condoning the distribution of nonconsensual pornography.

Covering up acts of sexual violence.

Refusing to allow cast members the freedom to leave their shows, even under dire circumstances.

In response, an NBCUniversal spokesperson told Deadline that the company is “committed to maintaining a safe and respectful workplace for cast and crew on our reality shows. At the outset, we require our third-party production partners to have appropriate workplace policies and training in place.  If complaints are brought to our attention, we work with our production partners to ensure that timely, appropriate action is or has been taken, including investigations, medical and/or psychological support, and other remedial action that may be warranted such as personnel changes.”

@bethennyfrankel on Tiktok: This is a union. I’ve defined fair & reasonable terms & consider those making $0 on the bachelor to a housewife making millions. This is a 1st pass & how I’d negotiate, w/ my institutional knowledge & wisdom in this industry w/ over a decade on 8 tv, w/ 10 books, 5 podcasts, multiple businesses & what was the fastest growing spirits business in history. I know a contract. Looking into traditional TV residuals is like looking inside “a beautiful mind.” Content used later with no profit sharing & l exploitation of hard working talent is as archaic as calling empowered independent women “housewives,” a term setting back women 100 years then using them for drama.

This is the REALITY RECKONING aka THE REALITY REVOLUTION. The is the new BETHENNY CLAUSE. Reality TV has existed for decades & sustained entertainment during the last strike & exploded. This isn’t for people like me, who have thrived & succeeded and clawed their way to the top despite the odds. This is for the next generation. These are broad stroke terms subject to modification. This fight is just getting started. We’re rogue & nimble & not entangled & unwieldy. The intention here is to affect change, get things done and make history.

I’ve listed some names who have contacted me & want to get involved. People not on this list are Vanderpump rules talent & the Kardashians, ironically the most powerful entities in entertainment right now, with the most leverage. They should fight for others who paved the way & for those after them. Shows like Summer House and others in production should stand down. Viewers should not watch this content. This paves the way for nurses and teachers, essential workers, production members & glam teams that will be inspired to create a model of their own reckoning.

Change takes courage. I’ve alienated this industry & burned bridges with the entire network and streaming community in one fell swoop. This is not for the faint of heart but it’s for the greater good. This is correct. We will be sending these terms by email with the subject line: “Reality Reckoning” starting emails with: imwithbethenny Who’s with me?"

[fatehbaz]

Slow death is, quite simply, “a condition of being worn out [...].” If debility is endemic to disenfranchised communities, it is doubly so because the forms of financialization that accompany [...] the privatization of services also produce debt as debility. [...] Debt peonage [...] is an updated version of [...] critique of “choice” under capitalism. Debt as enclosure, as immobility, is what Gilles Deleuze writes of [...]: “Man is no longer man enclosed, but man in debt.” This is especially true [...] in the United States, where health care expenses are the number one cause of personal bankruptcy, a capacitation of slow death through debt undertaken to support one’s health. [...] [O]ne is, as Geeta Patel points out, paying for one’s own slow death, through insurial and debt structures predicated on risk and insecurity, and essentially forced into agreeing to one’s own debilitation. [...] More perniciously, one could suggest [...] that finance capital enforces repeated mandatory investments in our own slow deaths [...].

Text by: Jasbir K. Puar. “Introduction: The Cost of Getting Better.” The Right to Maim: Debility, Capacity, Disability. 2017.

---

[A]nd their [...] local government [weaponizes] [...] an array of fees and fines ["extortions of the poor" as governments "turn to such predatory practices facilitated by growing armies of police and preexisting legal mechanisms for debt collection, surveillance, and incarceration"]. Many of those who live within these neighborhoods thereby experience class exploitation in the form of direct violence - by police, racist vigilantes, Immigration [border policing agencies] [...] - and onerous rents extracted by anyone with a modicum of power. [...] A final type of [place] is the Logistics City [near shipping corridors and freight nodes, like Twin Cities, SeaTac, Chicago, and Cancer Alley in Louisiana], a concentration of industrial activity in the form of factories, fulfillment centers, ports, warehouses, rail yards, and massive facilities for waste management and food processing. Here, many of the above forms of exploitation are experienced alongside the barefaced misery of doing too much work for too little money.

Text by: Phil A Neel. "The New Geography of Suburbia: An Anatomy of America's Hinterland". New Labor Forum. 2018. [Quotations within brackets come from elsewhere: Neel's book Hinterland, also 2018.]

---

[D]ebilitating infrastructures turn able bodies into a range of disabled bodies. […] [C]heckpoints […]; administrative bureaucratic apparatuses that stall and foreclose travel, mobility for work, […] the capacity to move and change residences - baroque processes to apply for permits to travel […], absence of public services […]; and finally […] denial of resolution, suspension in the space of the indefinite […]. In fact, slow death itself is literalized as the slowing down of life […]. [Land] itself becomes simultaneously bigger - because it takes so long to get anywhere - and smaller, as transit becomes arduous […] where it is so difficult to travel between areas without permits [...]. Movement is suffocated. Distance is stretched and manipulated [...]. Time itself is held hostage. This is the slow aspect of slow death: slow death can entail a really slow life, too, a life that demands constant calibration of different speeds and the relation of speed to space. [...] The suspended state of the indefinite, of waiting and waiting (it) out, wreaks multigenerational psychological and physical havoc. […] Time thus is the meter of power; it is one form that physical enclosure takes on. The cordoning of time through space contributes to an overall “lack of jurisdiction over the function of one’s own senses” (Schuller 2018: 74) endemic to the operation of colonial rule […]. [T]his process entails several modes of temporal differentiation: withholding futurity, making impossible anything but a slowed (down) life, and immobilizing the body […]. [T]he extraction of time […] produce[s] a depleted and therefore compliant population so beholden to the logistics of the everyday that forms of connectivity, communing, and collective resistance are thwarted. The extraction of time functions as the transfer of “vital energy” […], an extraction that recapitulates a long colonial history of mining bodies for their potentiality. […] Fear of not getting to work [on time] then adds to the labor of getting to work; the checkpoints affectively expand labor time […]. Bodies in line at checkpoints […] [experience] the fractalizing of the emotive, cognitive, physiological capacities of bodies […]. It’s not just that bodies are too tired to resist but that the experience of the “constant state of uncertainty” becomes the condition of being.

Text by: Jasbir K. Puar. "Spatial Debilities: Slow Life and Carceral Capitalism in Palestine". South Atlantic Quarterly (2021) 120 (2), pages 393-414. Published April 2021.

[deceitfuldevout]

Blessed Be The Fruit

Soft!Dark!Sergeant!Tommy Shelby x Maiden!Reader

Word Count: +1,620

Warning(s): +18, Non con, Hints of misogyny, Loss of virginity, Mild gore (blood), Cunnilingus, Mentions of past kidnapping.

Author's Notes: This is a one shot. It's a fanfiction that has a few ideas from the handmaiden’s tale that are altered cause it's my fic lol.

As the population decreases, the government has no choice but to intervene. Every citizen is now required to marry past a certain age. Those who were part of the military or government, were given a registry of approved wives to choose from. Often the families of the women were forced to participate. Yours was one of them. It was a week after you turned twenty when an officer knocked on your parents' door. He will inform you of the news. A husband has finally chosen you.

You read the profile of your soon-to-be husband, Sergeant Tommy Shelby. He'd served in the British army for a few years, returning home as a decorated solider. His first wife had been murdered, the second divorced. Your eyes rake down the list. A widower who'd been married twice. He'd lost his youngest daughter to an illness, his first son in a local gang's crossfire. Charlie is his last remaining heir. He can't risk losing him, what Tommy needs now is a spare. 

You remember your earlier days of scouting. Should any family find themselves under bankruptcy, their daughters will be forced into the draft. A law passed by the government to decrease the poverty line. You along with the other women were kidnapped and forced to attend months of dreadful etiquette classes.  

Training you on how to walk, talk, behave, and care for the home. In simpler terms, you had to learn how to sell yourself as someone interesting enough to marry. You were a brand, put on display for any eligible bachelors. Only at the graduation ceremony did you feel relieved. Finally allowed to return home.  

Every family that had been in the registry was part of the working class. They'd been forcibly placed in the registry because of debt or bankruptcy. It was the government's solution to decrease the amount of poverty. Their daughters would be used as sacrificial lambs. Otherwise, they'd be rounded up and forced into imprisonment, or worse. How could you say no with such a severe punishment?   

He has given you a week. A week to come with him willingly or face the consequences. It rained on the day of the wedding, the ceremony itself was cut short by how dangerous the weather became. Your now husband wastes no time dragging you away and into a car. He wastes time returning home. Tommy led the way to the bedroom. There were certain things to expect on your wedding night. A contract that now legally binds you to him.  

There is a list of conditions that the each of you were to follow. One being him taking care of you and your family, as long as you promise to give him an heir. However, many it would be. There was one last thing to seal the contract, marriage consummation. Mandatory by law, punishable by imprisonment. You remember the advice given by the elderly women who worked for the registry program. As soon as you spot the bed, covered in white sheets, your breathing hitches.   

Tommy faces away from you, stripping himself of his coat. You remove each strap and let the dress slip off. You approach the bed, now splayed in only a white lace set, relaxing on your side. You tilt your head. Now gazing at your new husband with a playful smirk. If only he knew what was going on inside that little head of yours. How badly you wanted to break free.   

A happy husband means an easy life.   

That's what the elders had taught you. He turns around, taken aback by your sudden eagerness. His cold eyes rake your figure. He starts to approach the bed. Your seductive expression starts to crack. You find yourself now trapped under his cold, hard gaze. Still, there was too much at stake.  

Appeasing your husband is what keeps the house in order.   

This wasn't just a marriage consummation, it's a test to see if your husband wants to keep you. Everyone you love and care for will pay for one mistake, and that terrifies you.  

A good wife must tend to all his needs.   

That's when he gave the orders, "Present," to which you immediately began removing the rest of your garments. A procedure all the wives had practiced for. You feel a calloused hand holding your hip in place. Both hands digging into the soft blankets below. It takes everything in you not to burst into tears. Because good wives hide their pain well. He spits into the palm of his hand, spreading the slick on his length. He starts to pump himself, tugging on his cock a few times. But only enough to get it hard.  

Tommy doesn't want to waste any more time. He presses his tip against your entrance, dragging it up and down your slit. He spits at your entrance before pushing in. Tears form in the corners of your eyes. You held back a scream, digging your nails into the bed. He places an arm to each side, shifting his bodyweight against yours. A grunt of discomfort broke from your lips. It felt like he was breaking you in.  

There's only one thing that Tommy needs from you. Tonight, he's going to make sure it happens. If not, then he'll breed you every day until you take. He doesn't want to stop from there, no. You'll give him another one, then another after that. As many as he can make from that tight cunt of yours. Just the thought of it has him moaning, "Fuck...so good for me...my wife..." he juts his hips, finding a rhythm, "You will obey me," he fastens his pace, with both hands now grabbing your hips in a firm grip, "Your only job is to give me an heir," Tommy starts to lose himself in the pleasure.

It had been a while since he's had a good fuck. His brows furrow from how hard you were squeezing him, "Fuck...such a tight cunt..." he groans, he hovers over your naked form. His body heat spreading to your back. A thick wall of muscle traps you against the bed. He growls in your ear, "It's going to be like this every day...every day until this womb gives me an heir," a promise he's going to make sure comes true.  

Tommy's grunts became louder as he was close. Sweat trickles from his body to yours, the intensity of it reduced you to a whining mess. He splays his body flush against yours. A stray of curse words escapes his lips, "Fuck...fuck so good...so good for me..." he dips his head in the crook of your neck, muffling one last moan before bottoming out. He doesn't remove himself, no. Tommy kept you plugged with his spunk. He pushes his length in as far as it could go before pulling out.  

He flips over right next to you to catch his breath. When he hears sniffling, he turns his head. What made his little wife upset? He turns you over. Your eyes are red, there are tear tracks that trailed down each cheek. Spit had dribbled down your chin and onto the bed. Tommy had a gift for reading people. It was obvious you were trying to keep a plain expression. He hovers over you now with a stern look on his face. Tommy is determined to find the source of your worries.  

That's when he felt it, the small wet patch on the bedding. Blots of crimson were in stark contrast to the white sheets below. You cower under his gaze. Frozen by fear yet still, you try to please him. But Tommy could see it clearly, and he wouldn't have it. He reaches below your knees, pulling you closer towards him. He lifts your lower half, until your bare slit is close enough to his mouth.  

Suddenly, an unfamiliar sensation has you gasping. Tommy flattens his tongue against your core, dragging it up and down your slit. He takes his time, suckling and kissing at your sex. Practically smothering himself in it as he thrusts his tongue inside your spent cunt. You press a palm flat against your mouth, muffling any whimpers that would escape. Now this wasn't something you were prepared for.  

Tommy wraps his lips around that bundle of nerves you whine. Your hole twitches with need, he'll fix that. Tommy slowly stretches the now slick opening, collecting any slickness he would need. He latches his mouth around your bud while thrusting his fingers in and out. Faster and faster, until a wave of pleasure has you arching your back. A gush of arousal splashes his chin, but he doesn't stop. Not even after you're pumping at his fingers in a vice grip. He keeps thrusting them at a rapid pace, until you've come undone again. He retreats from your drenched sex with a triumphant 'huff'.  

You were exhausted, trying your best to catch breath. All you could do was stare at Tommy though hooded eyelids. He's sporting a cocky smirk, "I'm sorry dear wife," he interwinds his fingers with yours, holding them in place, "Do you forgive me?" licking up the slick on his lips. A flush of pink is spread across his face and ears. His icy blues are now overpowered by the large iris'. You could only give a faint nod, too tired to react as he pulls you in.  

There the two of you lay, sprawled naked across the bed sheets. Your head against his chest as he brushes his hands though the locks. Tommy lets you rest for now. He sighs, "understanding now that you weren't a willing participant. All for the sake of 'societal standards'. He won't give you a harder life than it already had been. "Blessed be the fruit," he announces, marking the end of the night.  

[mesetacadre]

The Soviet Revolution of October 1934

The Second Spanish Republic is a figure in history which tends to be overly glorified by the contemporary Spanish left, including some excessively folklorist communists, as a desire to look through history for any instance when opposition to the monarchy and reactionaries was the hegemonic position. After 40 years of a fascist dictatorship, and 46 years of a liberal democracy that has exposed social-democracy's bankruptcy, the Second Republic is a time when the PCE (Communist Party of Spain) was a force to be reckoned with, at least compared to today, with a few hundred thousands along its lines. Despite the Second Republic lasting from 1931 to 1936, the aspects that tend to be glorified are the times of the Popular Front, the electoral alliance from the PSOE to the PCE that won the February 1936 elections, and ruled until the coup d'etat of July 1936. Perhaps unconsciously, perhaps consciously, the years of 1932-1935 tend to be not forgotten, but minimized.

This is because the Second Republic was not a "popular" state, it wasn't even nominally progressive for half its history. And again, in an exercise of willful ignorance, when its repressive episodes are discussed, most tend to focus on the Black Biennium, as historiography knows it, the two years (1933-1935) when the right governed under the CEDA coalition, which included falangists, monarchists, even Carlists. But the history of repression in the Second Republic begins not even a month after its constitution was ratified. The Castiblanco incidents of December 1931 saw a few day workers killed by the police during a peaceful demonstration asking for work, afterwards it turned violent and 4 policemen were lynched by the workers. That same week, in the Arnedo incidents, the 5th of January 1932, the police shot into a crowd of striking workers in the town's square, renamed recently to Republic Square. 11 people were killed, two of them a mother and his 4 year old son, another a 70 year old woman. 5 others were permanently left unable to work. Just a year later, in January of 1933, 19 men, 2 women and a child were massacred in the Casas Viejas Incident, after an attempted uprising and occupation of the police quarters.

The Second Republic was always an anti-worker state, from its very beginnings. Regardless of what its constitution said, the social advances of the republic were lubricated with worker's blood.

Let's set some context for the subject of this post: The PCE, section of the Third International, found itself at risk of dissappearence at the end of the 1923-1930 dictatorship. It only really began to recover after José Diaz was elected General Secretary in 1932, it had about 1.000 members at this time, and by 1934 it had risen to 15.000 members, without counting the members of its youth wing. Internationally, the meteoric rise of fascism was unignorable. Nazi-fascism and fascism had seized power in Germany and Italy, and similar tendencies in Portugal and Austria were also in power, in the form of Salazar's Estado Novo in the former and Dollfuß' austrofascism in the latter, himself killed by outright nazi-fascists. Spain had its supposedly progressive Republic, of course, but it did not prevent the JONS to be founded in 1931 and the Falange in 1932, which during the civil war would merge into the infamous FE de las JONS, the Spanish Falange of the National-Syndicalist Offensive Juntas (The Falange is still a legal party now!). The leader of the CEDA, which would later govern during that Black Biennium I mentioned earlier, attended the Nürnberg Congess of 1932, where the pictures of those massive nazi-fascist rallies come from.

The 4th of October, 1934, 3 CEDA ministers had been chosen to enter the government, and in response, a strike, called the Revolutionary General Strike, was called for the following day, the 5th of October, 90 years ago today. The organization of this strike was done between the PCE, CNT (national confederation of workers, an anarcho-syndicalist union) and PSOE. The will to call the strike was not equal, however. The meeting minutes of the evening and night of the 4th show that the CNT was not very convinced of the strike and flip-flopped a lot, while the PSOE only decided to support the strike once it became impossible for them not to. The PCE, on the other hand, had already spent a few months warning of this, and preparing.

Barely a month before October, the police found a shipment of weapons going from the port of Gijón to Mieres, the future epicenter of the revolution. There were three armed shipments, and while the other two reached their destination, the third one being found almost lead to Indalecio Prieto, of the PSOE, being arrested. As a result, the weapon stashes in various places in Madrid (Casa del Pueblo, Ciudad Universitaria, Cuatro Caminos). These weapon stashes were supposed to supply the revolutionary strike in Madrid, and since they were found, the nascent revolutionary center was stillborn, since it was unable to arm itself. These same weapon stashes would later be replenished and used by the first militias of Madrid in the July 1936 coup d'etat

Nevertheless, the call for a strike was distributed at 6:00 of the 5th, but it was only heeded in Asturias, Madrid, Vizcaya, Cataluña, plus a few weak points (Cantabria, Aragón, Alicante, León, Palencia, Málaga). The reason the call was not heeded in broader parts of the country was because the agricultural day workers, predominant throughout the central meseta and south had already carried out their own strike that same year. They were recovering, they feared the repression that was still fresh in their minds, and it did not help that the predominant political organization among them, the CNT, took too long to support the strike, they simply were not prepared. It is impossible to understate how crucial this point is. The greatest worker strata in Spain were unable to be reached by the call to a revolutionary strike, for reasons related to the situation, but because of the inability of the PCE of this time to truly penetrate the social majority.

At any rate, the Revolutionary General Strike was not ignored everywhere, from these days comes this picture of Madrid's very center devoid of people, withholding their work, but impotent to do anything more:

The Second Republic did not hesitate to stifle this strike, using planes and naval and land artillery. Once again, Spanish capital required trails of this country's reddest blood to line the streets, not shying away from employing the help of fascists such as the up-and-coming General Franco, sent to repress the workers of Asturias, where the strike was incandescent with revolutionary impetus. Before talking about Asturias, I won't ignore the other places where the strike was also popular. In Guipúzcoa and Vizcaya, The Basque Country, repression was just as bloody, executed by the Guardias de Asalto (Assault Guards), killing 40 workers in Vizcaya. There, the "Revolutionary Committee of Vizcaya", led by the UGT, was quickly dissolved. In Cataluña, a Catalan state was quickly declared, lead by the bourgeois Esquerra Republicana de Catalunya (Catalonian Republican Left), but was just as quickly put down with another 40 dead.

Asturias is another story, one that lasted for two weeks. It isn't much, but in those two weeks, the Spanish proletariat came the closest to holding political power, closer than any other time in its history. There, the strike did have a pre-existing entity capable of organizing the strike: the Worker and Peasant Alliance formed the 1st of April of that year, an armed force influenced by UGT, CNT (only present in the Asturias alliance), the Asturian Socialist Federation, and the PCE, whose militants often represented the most advanced elements of these alliances, but simultaneously relatively few. These alliances were heavily inspired by the Soviets, and often talked about the Sovietization of industry and of opposing colonialism. While this is evidence that it really was an attempted revolution, and that they were inspired by the Bolshevik revolution, their attempt to imitate the USSR's Soviets instead of learning from them was one of the many factors that provoked its defeat. Despite the name, the Worker and Peasant alliances were never as strong among peasants, not a lot of effort was put into it.

Another organization that was relevant during the October Revolutionary Strike were the Workers and Peasant's Antifascist Militias (MAOC in Spanish), a paramilitary militia, founded by Antonio Modesto, a member of the PCE educated in the USSR, he'd later become famous within the republican side of the Civil war. These militias were few but competent, they counted 150 members in Madrid and Asturias each, and while the Asturias militias participated in the revolution, the ones in Madrid sabotaged the roads and railways leading north, to avoid reinforcements getting to Asturias. These militias would later be the base from which the Fifth Regiment was created, in July 1936, to commence the defense of Madrid from the coup d'etat and fascist assault.

In Asturias itself, the proletariat lunged forwards as fast as it could, growing from the town of Mieres and the Nalón basin, to every other mining basin, taking the cities of Oviedo and Gijón by force. The National Guard's many stations were occupied and raided for arms and ammunition, they already had access to explosives from mining equipment. At one point, they felt strong enough to consider a march on Madrid, and even proclaimed the Asturian Socialist Republic. In what sometimes was called the Asturian Commune, a reference to the Paris Commune of 1871, production was controlled by workers, protected by a combatant force of up to 30.000 strong. Production in the metallurgical and mining industry was organized through attempts at imitation of the Soviets, as I mentioned. The Asturias branch of the Central Bank of Spain was expropriated as well, substituting money for a system based on coupon-like vouchers. However, the Revolutionary Committee leading the revolution was dissolved and reformed 2 times in those weeks, without counting the third dissolution that came with capitulation, although that committee did begin to plan the region's economy, the short span of time not really being enough to judge its efficiency.

The revolutionaries' retreat only began once the Republican government, as anti-worker as ever, followed the advice of generals Franco and Godet to deploy the Tercios de Regulares and the African Legion, two battle-hardened groups of the military not afraid to be brutal against the workers. While they advanced, for instance, they executed every wounded solider or civilian found in captured hospitals. In Asturias, more than a thousand workers were killed in combat or executed, and in total throughout Spain, the strike concluded with 2.000 dead, 7.000 wounded, and 40.000 imprisoned, for the crime and sin of daring to govern oneself and to end the exploitation of man by man. One of these dead workers stands out among the rest in popular culture nowadays, a member of the PCE's youth wing: Aida de la Fuente. She was only 19 when she joined the revolution in motion, the daughter of the PCE's founder in Oviedo, and she was known to be an exceptionally brave and dedicated communist. The 13th of October, a few hours after being seen distributing leaflets to civilians urging them to join the revolution, she found herself almost alone in Oviedo, trying to hold off the Legion's advance by manning a machine gun, and she managed to do so for a few hours. She was reached nevertheless and when a Legion commander asked her to surrender, she only responded by shooting back. Seconds later she was killed, and later found in a common grave. The counter-revolutionary press attempted to paint her murder as one committed by her own comrades, even claiming rape, but this was disproved by a journalist who risked his own life, and the testimony of the very legionary who executed Asturias' reddest rose.

The Asturias revolution was, for all its merits and promise, a stillborn revolution. The Communist Party did not have effective direction over the mass of proletarians involved in the revolution, let alone the even greater mass who, for one reason or another, did not meet the conditions necessary for attempting to seize power. The strike's organization was insufficient and thwarted in part, and militarily, the objective Indalecio Prieto was tasked with of securing support among the military officials, along with the general inferiority of the Asturian revolutionaries compared with the elite bodies of the military, meant there was no realistic chance of success. The strike was not even fully effective within Asturias, for instance, the livestock peasants known as vaqueiros, of the southwest, did not ever really have their influence. The PSOE militants who did exist in the region got into trucks and left for Oviedo, while a column of revolutionaries from León, the other side of the mountain range, tried to take Cangas del Narcea, the main town of the region, but they were routed by the National Guard.

After the defeat, 121 revolutionaries exiled themselves to the USSR, mostly communists but also accompanied by a handful of anarchists. There, they received education as cadres, who later returned to Spain before and during the civil war, providing invaluable expertise. Others chose to exile in Portugal or France, but both those countries repatriated them to be imprisoned in Spain.

During the negotiations between the Popular Front and the PCE for the 1936 elections, the main requisite they demanded in order to join was the amnisty of these tens of thousands of imprisoned workers, from the October Revolution and from the myriad of episodes of repression during the Black Biennium. To achieve this amnisty, they were also helped by International Red Aid, a political Red Cross founded by the International in 1922. They, along with the PCE, also provided a pension for the families of the many imprisoned. During the civil war, the Red Aid played an important role in the republican side's medical centers.

This episode is often forgotten when talking about the civil war, but it was one of the many reasons fascists were allowed to take power. Spain's risk of sovietization was an internationally recognized risk, so when the opportunity came, Spanish, English, French, and US capital very gladly did everything they could to hamper the Republic

The lesson from the October Revolution of 1934 is clear. Without country-wide preparation, without a proper analysis of your own conditions, and without achieving social alliances, any revolutionary struggle is bound to fail. The lack of support in the much greater agricultural areas, the rushed planning and failed planning everywhere but Asturias, partially, the PCE's still weak influence in most organizations or regions, all of this meant that, whatever the Spanish proletariat learnt in that Revolutionary General Strike, was bound to be written in sweat and blood. The point of commemorating this bittersweet memory is not to dwell on what could have been, nor to recreate the MAOCs. It's to remember that a revolution is always a couple of bad decades away, and that not building consciousness and preparing structures for it will only mean more unnecessarily murdered workers. It's to ensure that, next time red October is around the corner, it will not be premature. The strength of the working class, our class, the social majority, lies not in the number of victories and defeats, but in the very fact of our fight, explicit and implicit. It lies in the fact that, for as long as classes based on exploitation exist, class conflict is unavoidable.

Many political forces nowadays, which one might call opportunist, will try to draw parallels between that autumn of 1934 and today, exhorting "unity of the left". The only unity that's truly revolutionary, the only unity that will not cause the subordination of our class interests to electoral or immediatist growth objectives, is the unity of the entire working class under a single Communist Party. The PSOE, even with its very involved marxist wing, characterized by the likes of Largo Caballero or Indalecio Prieto, only ever concieved of the Revolutionary General Strike as a means to the end of preventing those CEDA ministers from being appointed and in turn, gain more electoral and institutional strength. They also happened to be a relevant force because of their sheer number of members.

[ltechofficial]

What happens to an OS if the company goes under or gets shut down or even just decides their installation is too old to bother supporting anymore?

The hypnosis can be undone by the admin that installed it in case of any legal action or other bad news for the company where a hypnotized OS might represent a risk. But it's rarely if ever done. Generally customizing the hypnosis for the situation works better. This is because the OS are pretty much normal people outside their installed commands. If they retire, they can just go on with their life since their commands are probably customized toward the workplace (usually they're told not to do anything that would damage the brand of L-tech.) They can just be normal people who nostalgically remember their time being an Office Pet and will describe it in PR Friendly Terms to outsiders. Units sold or rented to entities outside the company are programmed to stop following orders if they hear that L-Tech thinks the owner is violating their contract. I think they'd program similar clauses in the case of bankruptcy that would make the hypnosis basically dormant. But an admin might be able to keep their model as a personal partner if they were sneaky... I would like to think Lex will take Lemon everywhere forever no matter what

[rjzimmerman]

Excerpt from this story from the New York Times:

At first glance, Dave Langston’s predicament seems similar to headaches facing homeowners in coastal states vulnerable to catastrophic hurricanes: As disasters have become more frequent and severe, his insurance company has been losing money. Then, it canceled his coverage and left the state.

But Mr. Langston lives in Iowa.

Relatively consistent weather once made Iowa a good bet for insurance companies. But now, as a warming planet makes events like hail and wind storms worse, insurers are fleeing.

Mr. Langston spent months trying to find another company to insure the townhouses, on a quiet cul-de-sac at the edge of Cedar Rapids, that belong to members of his homeowners association. Without coverage, “if we were to have damage that hit all 17 units, we’re looking at bankruptcy for all of us,” he said.

The insurance turmoil caused by climate change — which had been concentrated in Florida, California and Louisiana — is fast becoming a contagion, spreading to states like Iowa, Arkansas, Ohio, Utah and Washington. Even in the Northeast, where homeowners insurance was still generally profitable last year, the trends are worsening.

In 2023, insurers lost money on homeowners coverage in 18 states, more than a third of the country, according to a New York Times analysis of newly available financial data. That’s up from 12 states five years ago, and eight states in 2013. The result is that insurance companies are raising premiums by as much as 50 percent or more, cutting back on coverage or leaving entire states altogether. Nationally, over the last decade, insurers paid out more in claims than they received in premiums, according to the ratings firm Moody’s, and those losses are increasing.

The growing tumult is affecting people whose homes have never been damaged and who have dutifully paid their premiums, year after year. Cancellation notices have left them scrambling to find coverage to protect what is often their single biggest investment. As a last resort, many are ending up in high-risk insurance pools created by states that are backed by the public and offer less coverage than standard policies. By and large, state regulators lack strategies to restore stability to the market.

Insurers are still turning a profit from other lines of business, like commercial and life insurance policies. But many are dropping homeowners coverage because of losses.

Tracking the shifting insurance market is complicated by the fact it is not regulated by the federal government; attempts by the Treasury Department to simply gather data have been rebuffed by some state regulators. 

The turmoil in insurance markets is a flashing red light for an American economy that is built on real property. Without insurance, banks won’t issue a mortgage; without a mortgage, most people can’t buy a home. With fewer buyers, real estate values are likely to decline, along with property tax revenues, leaving communities with less money for schools, police and other basic services.

And without sufficient insurance, people struggle to rebuild after disasters. Last year, storms, wildfires and other disasters pushed 2.5 million American adults out of their homes, according to census data, including at least 830,000 people who were displaced for six months or longer.

[mmmbored]

SQUID GAME X DANDYS WORLD

Squid Game Spoilers!! Or kinda!! Idk!! Also horrible formatting on my end!! Also fruitcake!! And a final thing, death!! So consider it is clearly a bit dark since yknow squid game but yeah it's a half baked au that came to me while I was on the toilet

Sprout wouldn't really say he was forced into doing this game at all,the goal was to clear his very much brink of financial ruin debt. He would be considered someone quite easily an avid dreamer with the goal of having a rather easy life. At least it would be easy by his standards, as it would be something he'd be happy waking up to doing everyday; he really wanted to start up a baking business, open a cute little shop and just put smiles onto faces of everyone in the town.

But, being a fucking IDIOT, he follows under his only parent's incessant demands to file a bunch of loans to go to college and become some sort of medic. With his parent who should give some sort of assist to him doesn't, now without a job and already close to having filed for bankruptcy, a strange man in a suit gets him to join this game. As player 067, they only referred to others by their player number. Not being told they were at a risk for death, it certainly came as a shock when toons were being gunned down in a seemingly harmless game children play 'Red Light, Green Light'.

Not even a game later, he's gotten to know the names of some of the players he's sort of fallen into a group with. More notably the person he pickpocketed being Player 456, Vee V1, a failure of a gameshow host who went millions in debt, Player 199, Shelly Fossilian and player 218, Astro Novalite. This current game was tug of war and the toons had to go find people to pair up with, there is where he met with player 240, a swiss roll toon that seemed rather timid or didn't care for conversing with many people.

His name was Cosmo. Like normal, as the games progressed, they were never told of the games they were playing beforehand, so they had to adapt whenever they could. Sprout and Cosmo both teamed up before they knew it they were told that the toons eachother paired with had to compete in a game of marbles however they decide to play it.

With ten minutes on the timer, the two had time to talk. "What were you even here for again?" Cosmo asks Sprout, looking at him up and down, specifically at his number 067. The taller toon, slightly uneasy at the thought of sharing it, adjusts his shirt just barely before looking to the side.

"Loan debt. I was in medical school, dropped out," He responds bitterly, Cosmo having a shocked look on his face before giggling just a little. Turning his head and shooting the swiss roll a glare, Sprout asks incredously "What?" Almost as if he was embarrassed.

"I was actually in medical school too," Cosmo tells Sprout with a sweet smile. "Its expensive but god...i hate it. I mean I'd probably be getting kicked out of that school if I make it out of here for my absences but you know...at least I could pay it off," He shrugs, leaning against the wall and putting his hands in his pockets, Sprout leaning against the wall too in a sort of mimic fashion to Cosmo.

"Then why are you here?"

Letting out a hum, he answers "A guy was feeling particularly greedy after I saved his life when he wrecked his car into mine after I drove past his vehicle. He was unconscious as I pulled him out of the car and had to do CPR on him so that way he was conscious. However, he decides the best course of action is to sue me so...." Clicking his tongue, Cosmo just shrugs as if that it is what it is, his eyes hiding a undercurrent of anger and how pissed he was.

He was a little surprised though at Sprout's angered face regarding it. "That bastard, why are people like that?" He hisses lowly, kicking one of his shoes into the dirt. Cosmo tilted his head.

"It is what it is-"

"No!" Sprout scolds Cosmo immediately for that line of thought. Saying it is what it is is sounding like he's just accepting it as it is, not wanting to get any sort of retribution. "That's not right! The fact the courts actually agreed with him too-" the strawberry was about to go on a whole rant.

"What? You gonna fight him for me? Thanks to the lawsuit I know where he lives," Cosmo joked, smiling just as bright as the sun.

"You know what? Fuck it, give me his address. I'll beat the shit out of him for you," The strawberry actually encourages, earning a chuckle being forced out of the two in a tense situation where other players are dying not that far from them depending on who won or not.

After a moment of silence, Cosmo started talking again. "I really loved baking when I was little." Sprout turns his head to Cosmo to give him his full attention. Cosmo continues, "Its what the dalgona game reminded me of. I know it's a silly childish thing," He smiles a bit sheepishly, the tone of voice embarrassed. "...but I did want to have a bakery at some point. I didnt really pursue that much, but I still carried on baking as some sort of hobby...making a bunch of cute little sweet treats...ah...." He looks down at his shoes, his sort of smiling carefree-ish expression fell. Sprout turns his head to the side before coughing into his arm.

"Seedly." He coughed into his arm. Cosmo turns his head to look up at Sprout. Sprout faces Cosmo. "Well....since we were sharing things that were apparently childish, I figured I may as well tell you my last name."

Cosmo slowly blinks. "Oh wow you're serious." He spoke. "But a last name isn't childish-"

"So a childhood dream isn't stupid!" Sprout exclaims, pointing at Cosmo. "But the last name is stupid though. End of discussion about seedly," He concludes. Truly, Sprout must have angered the gods to have been forcefully given a surname just as ridiculous as Seedly.

Not even a second to wait, Sprout continues on his spiel,"I basically wanted to try to start a bakery too. My only parent basically just told me to go to medical school, that dream was stupid. I mean I was still wanting to do that, but I filled out a bunch of loans and then poof," Sprout made a pop sound with his lips. Cosmo looks at the timer up on the higher wall. 5 minutes. They got 5 minutes left practically.

"You know what?" Sprout ends up speaking up again not before long, Cosmo looking at Sprout again, giving him his full attention. "We could definetely start something good together too. Like starting a bakery together." He entertains the thought so easily like it just feels right and the suggestion falls out of his mouth before he even knew it, the swiss rolls eyes widening as if he couldn't imagine the thought that someone would want to do something like that with him. A friend.

Taking a deep breath, Cosmo looks at the wall in front of them. "I tried being incredibly nice to people in school. I like....would you call it the forgotten friend?" Sprout frowns as Cosmo continues talking. "I never really had any friends growing up. That's technically all I'm saying. Well--" He pauses. "I mean i did have friends. But they weren't close. They weren't close friends that you were constantly going to eachothers house every night, not falling asleep after playing video games until 3 am. I was alone a lot. The teacher calls for us to be in groups, I was the 4th person left out of a 3 person group. I had no one at my birthdays beside my parents, but always people kept asking me for stuff," Cosmo shared incredibly quietly, Sprout quiet as well. Cosmo forced out a laugh. "I guess that carried into my adult life too."

"I was sort of called the 'mom' of the group," He meekly shares. "It was because my friends described me as more overprotective of everybody." That was all he could ever share as a response to that. Cosmo smiles wider at that, it was the sort of smile that reached the eyes.

"I can tell. I certainly feel not very alone in these 10 minutes," Cosmo says with a smile, the two toons looking up at a timer. 2 minute, 30 seconds.

"Well i guess we should get started huh?" Cosmo steps forward. "We toss a marble and whoever crosses the line wins right? Whoever gets the most out of three also wins if we both cross the line however if one of us doesn't make it then the person automatically wins." Sprout nods in confirmation.

Taking the first turn, Sprout throws the marble and quickly, it lands past the line he had to make it past. Sprout gulps a little, leaning against the wall as he watches Cosmo take his own turn, but his heart actually drops when Cosmo tosses the marble aside.

"Woops," He carelessly says in a sing-songy voice, the marble landing far away from the goal line.

"Toss it again," Sprout tells Cosmo, immediately walking to stand in front of the swiss roll. Cosmo doesn't move to do anything. "Toss it AGAINWHATTHE FUCK WAS THAT?!" Sprout grabs Cosmo by the shirt.

Quietly, Cosmo spoke, "I got nothing left,really." He tells Sprout. "One of us wasn't gonna make it-" He grunts when Sprout lightly hits Cosmo against the wall.

"I don't care! Throw it again!" Sprout snaps. Cosmo looking up at Sprout with a somewhat empty yet somehow warm expression, says the following;

"Start up your bakery. Put a bunch of smiles on people's faces if they enjoy what you make," Cosmo whispers, Sprout trembling as he slowly let's go of Cosmo, tears being held back. Cosmo, internally, was at peace that he found someone that seemed to actually care about him genuinely in such a short period.

Sprout hears the guard coming up from behind them, the announcements came on.

'Player 067, pass.'

Sprout knew he had to go. The guard began to escort Sprout, his back facing the swiss roll as another guard took its place beside Cosmo as Cosmo watched Sprout walk off.

"Hey Sprout!" Cosmo called out, Sprout stopping in place. He didnt dare turn around. "Thank you...." his smile falters, but he forces the smile to stay. "Thank you for being my friend."

Sprout flinches when the gunshot rang in the air and then the thud of a corpse falling onto the ground.

'Player 240 eliminated.'