#Benjamin Tillman

[whitesinhistory]

On September 11, 1895, South Carolina officials met to rewrite the state constitution with the express purpose of disenfranchising the state’s African American voters and restoring white supremacy in all matters political. The convention’s most prominent figure was Benjamin Tillman, a senator and former governor nicknamed “Pitchfork Ben." A well-known orator, Tillman spoke at great length during the convention.

"[A]ll that is necessary to bring about chaos," he warned the convention delegates, "is for a sufficient number of white men, actuated by hate, or ambition, or from any unpatriotic motive, to climb up and cut it loose, mobilize and register the negroes, lead them and give them a free vote and fair count under manhood suffrage." He continued:

The poor, ignorant cotton field hand, who never reaped any advantage, nor saw anything except a pistol, blindly followed like sheep wherever their Black and white leaders told them to go, voted unanimously every time for the Republican ticket during that dark period, and these results were achieved solely and wholly by reason of the ballot being in the hands of such cattle. Is the danger gone? No. How did we recover our liberty? By fraud and violence...How did we bring it about? Every white man sunk his personal feelings and ambitions. The white people of the State, illustrating our glorious motto, "Ready with their lives and fortunes." came together as one. By fraud and violence, if you please, we threw it off. In 1878 we had to resort to more fraud and violence, and so again in 1880. Then the Registration Law and eight-box system was evolved from the superior intelligence of the white man to check and control this surging, muddy stream of ignorance...

The delegates followed Tillman's guidance and enacted a constitution that effectively disenfranchised Black residents, with little federal interference, for nearly 70 years. Today, a statue of Tillman stands in front of the South Carolina State House and his name adorns a number of buildings throughout the state—including the main building on the campus of Clemson University.

[1900scartoons]

Initiating Harriman Into the Ananias Club

April 3, 1907

Ananias Harriman rides a goat around a track while the goat eats his letter; 'He wrote it down,' another member of the Ananias club says. Other members include Tillman, Parker, Chandler, Whitney, and Wallace.

Ananias was a famous biblical liar. Harriman had been accused of falsifying a letter in which President Roosevelt asked him for money.

From Hennepin County Library

Original available at: https://digitalcollections.hclib.org/digital/collection/Bart/id/5734/rec/96

[aschenblumen]

Walter Benjamin, «El Tiergarten» en Infancia en Berlín hacia el mil novecientos, compilado en Obras completas, libro IV, vol. 1. Edición de Tillman Rexroth, traducción de Jorge Chamorro Pérez.

[visenyaism]

But yeah. Love my state, despite the Horrors (looking at you Lindsey Graham) and could talk about the politics and history of it for hours.

lindsey graham has never bragged in detail about stuffing ballot boxes or violently overthrowing the government or admitted to murder unprompted or beat the shit out of a colleague on the senate floor he might be the most normal kind of evil senator y’all have ever had.

[floredaqueen]

A Bud In The Gun(1)

Gator Tillman(CC) X Fem!OriginalCharacter

Enemies To Lovers

⚠️WARNING⚠️

Raunchy, angst, mentions of sex, heavy description of sexual events, Chrys worked at a strip club, character death(s), cursing, insults, Gator threatening Chrys and vice versa, slow burn, mentions of firearms and other various weapons, description of fighting, Gator spying on Chrys, character injuries, etc.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Her last night. Thank God it was her last night at Pink Paradise. Her last night of tightening the ankle strap of her clear, 7 inch, platform sandals. Her last night of nearly getting dizzy from swinging professionally on a body glitter covered pole. Her last night of practiced ass jiggling to entice old clients and new customers alike. Her last night of g-string wedgies, sweating off her pasties, losing her jewelry, and fighting with customers and other pole dancers alike.

It would be her last night of dumping a duffle bag full of cash onto her mattress, from George Washingtons to Benjamin Franklins. It would be her last night eating pizza at 2:30 in the morning with her colleagues, paying for her tuition, and paying for an uber home. It would be Chrys's last night in Bemidji, Minnesota.

Chrysanthemum was quick to tidy up her apartment, packing up her washed sheets and blankets, her glass and ceramic dishes, and her silverware. She helped to load the furniture and 3 boxes with TVs into the moving truck. She'd boxed up her clothes, accessories, and shoes and bagged up her toiletries. After all of her belongings were packed and checked for, the African American woman headed for the airport. A simple procedure of steps.

Getting her boarding pass and plane tickect checked, wait to board the plane for however long, then get one the plane. Although, as she boarded, notions of despair infected her thoughts. The very idea of her being the official last Whitlock.

What made it worse was that it wasn't no coincidence. There were no such things as coincidences in Stark County, North Dakota. Especially with a law twisting, people fearing man who does the so-called "protecting" and "serving."

A man like Roy Tillman. Having his entitled, half-witted son as his deputy doesn't help this fucked town either. Chrys has always been suspicious of them. Ever since, Tillman Jr. decided it was a good idea to mow down Corey with a big ass car tire - OVER A MISUNDERSTANDING NO LESS - and Daddy Sheriff decided to cover it up, she's always been weary.

Ever since, her father conveniently became the prime suspect in some crimes simply because of his skin color. Ever since high school, the way Gator would come on to her in a disgusting way and then threaten her when she turned him down, just because of who her father was.

The way he made his friends pull on her hair when she wore it down or curly... flip up her shirt when she decided to wear it... The way he would back her into her locker and corner her... and then play it off as a joke. The guy had a sick fucking sense of humor. Just thinking about it had Chrys's blood boiling.

It was only a few hours before the plane landed, Chrys taking a refreshing nap before her eyes shot open when her ears focused on the sound of the Inner Call. Her back and shoulders stretched, and her hazel (green) hues scanned the area around her.

"Attention, Passengers. We will be landing in 5 minutes. Prepare for landing, remain relaxed, and thank you for joining us at Delta Air Lines!" The copilot would announce. After the announcement, Chrys began to relax again, concentrating on her breathing and trying to remind herself where she put her suitcase.

The landing was smooth. It's almost smooth enough to make her forget about the tombstones she has to go see later today. Chrys tightly clutched her cerulean suitcase. The sound of her 5-inch cowboy boots clicking against the marble floor where everyone could hair.

Her long, unruly auburn curls caught everyone's eye, but no one could see hers through her dark sun glasses. In true grieving fashion, she wore all black, a long coat on top of a fitted and lacey black dress. She didn't mind catching people's attention, but there were certain times where.. she wished she could've been invisible.

Like now.

It didn't take long for Chrysanthemum to notice someone who has owned the profession title of "scum of the Earth" she wanted to avoid. Dressed in his almost all black, law enforcement uniform with a brown hat that read "Stark County Sheriff" the stood Gator.. fucking.. Tillman.

Even with the hat on she could tell he still had that fuckass haircut. Their eyes met for a moment, but thank God for her black shades. The young woman would just keep walking, finding her boarding line and checking in before walking off again.

Chrysanthemum Whitlock was in the clear.. or so, she thought. Not a second later did Chrys bumped into someone, and it just had to be Tillman Jr. She had dropped her pass, leaning down to pick it back up, and he did the same. That was different.

"Aw jeez! My bad!," Chrys exchanged her apology, the officer grabbing her papers first. He took all of five seconds to scan her name on the booklet, eye all of her features and present that disturbing smolder she remembered him doing... although he grew into it. It was.. tolerable to look at now.

"Here you go... Do I.. know you lil' lady?" Gator questioned, Chrys immediately denying any relation they had in the past.

"Uhm, I don't think so. Listen, I'm kinda in a hurry. Thank you for your help, officer." And there she went, Gator's big brown eyes trailing her appearance and her ever move. He could've sworn he knew her from somewhere...

November 22, 2019. 5:47 p.m. Chrys hasn't cried this much since her acceptance into college, although those tears were pure happiness. The tears she was shedding now were hot and gross, and they would not stop, no matter how hard she tried. Chrys wasn't sure, but she could've sworn, she could hear the sounds of her own wailing. It made sense.

She was weakly cradling her father's tombstone like it was his body. Her body curled up into a ball on her brother's. Several seconds.. minutes... hours passed by. Until it was 8:30, and it was dark. She had to leave. Chrys wanted to do anything, but.. and yet she couldn't stand being there anymore at the same time.

The rest of the evening saw only a few tears...then there was only anger. The woman's anger boiled to a low simmer as she cleaned up her new apartment. She unboxed and put up everything within the day. Three-and-a-half hours of setting up plates, pots, and pans, placing family photos in an orderly fashion, color-coding clothing accessories and shoes, and organizing toiletries,furniture rearrangement and bed-making... It seemed like all the time in the world. Three-and-a-half hours of planning and plotting her home decor.. as well as a fucking massacre.

The next day wasn't any easier on an emotional level, but Chrys was still able to get out of bed and get dressed. Today, along with black shorts and a pair of blood red, snake skinned cowboy boots, she decided to wear a greenish-beige baby t-shirt. She really liked her cowboy boots.

Over her baby T-shirt, she pulled on a fur jacket that matched the color of her boots. She headed downstairs, grabbing a designer purse she bought a whole back when she made a whole bunch of cash at the Pink Paradise. It was a blood red, faux snaked coach bag. Her father tried to send one just like it to Chrys for her 21st birthday.. maybe she should've let him.

Shaking her had at the pondering though, she headed out for the day, her dainty and slightly veiny hands fiddled with her silver hoops before she unlocked her silver Lexus RX. Her mind back tracked to the time where she was spamming Corey about a car to buy. Abe didnt have one at the time, but she had the money.

"I want to feel safe, but I also want it to look cool!" She remembered saying, only for her brother to call her up seconds later. Throughout that week, they were looking up cars together. She said no to a Subaru.

"Can't fuck in a Subaru. That's weird." Which got a laugh out of her. Chrys almost picked a Ford SUV, but then Corey ruined Fords for her when he decided to make a terrible joke about Roy Tillman. Something about Chrys being more attractive to him..? It creeped her out. They scrolled and sent. Scrolled and sent. That was until she found herself inseparable to the Lexus RX. She loved it. He loved her. It was a done deal. A week after she filed the paper work, and sent him plenty of pictures of her new baby.

She never knew what to name the God damn thing... well until now. Corey fit perfectly.

Chrysanthemum started the engine, backing Corey out of the driveway. Her first stop was the local diner. The 25 year old needed to know if it changed, even if it was just by a little. Chrys surprised herself when she remembered the route, the long empty road confusing her to no end. It had only been 7 years. What could she have forgotten in seven years? Just then the valedictorian pumped the breaks, her discerning pupils watching as the man on the horse trotted around her.

Oh yeah.. Goddamn. Not a second passed before she was cursing herself under her breath, making sure there were no more cowboys inside before she released the break and tapped on the gas. Soon enough, she was in the parking lot of the diner. As much as she hated this place, this was home to her. Chrys couldn't count on decent food and warm atmosphere anywhere else... except for maybe Jerry's Pizza at two in the morning back in Bemidji.

She noted the ring of the bell as she entered the place, picking a booth against the wall and setting her red handbag between her and it. A waitress was quick to come to the booth where Chrys sat. While her words and voice pitch were kind, her demeanor was not. She seemed perplexed by Chrys's style, which confused Chrys herself.

What was wrong with it? Did it look out of place? Apparently, it did to those around her. She didn't even notice the men from across the way stealing glances at her. Some amused, some intrigued, and some scowling. In time, she felt the scowling ones, returning the negative gaze with her menacing one. The more the young broad glared back, the more they got the message. Chrys was anything but afraid.

She was quick to order, getting the "Whipped Waffle Delight" and some cranberry juice. As she was waiting, she noted the sound of the bell again, it making her dark hair stand up on her maple brown skin. When she caught wind of who it was, she rolled her eyes to her phone. He had to have been stalking her at this point. And indeed he was. Gator to a seek on the opposite side of her booth, greeting her with an expecting smile.

"Well, haven't you changed?? Aren't you a sight for sore eyes, ey, birdie?" He'd say, Chrys noticing his balls finally dropped before she even thought to speak back to his condescending ass. She didn't say a thing for a moment, she looking at him with that wall built from hatred.

"How?" Chrys would finally respond with, his shit eating grin only getting seemingly more smug as he continued on.

"Took a peak at your boarding pass and thought your name sounded familiar, so I did a background check." Those dark eyes of his were watchful, taking in her incensed glare while she processed his nonchalance. Was he serious? He seemed fine with it, too, like it wasn't a big deal that he just invaded her privacy. He must've known why she was here and why she came back. If it was up to her, she'd become a domestic terrorist and burn this entire city to the ground.

"So why did you come back..? Not that I'm complaining. You look good." Gator added, watching his childhood crush tense up at his compliment. He didn't forget. He never forgot what he did to her all those years ago. How he made her feel, how stand-offish she was after the torment he put her through. But he wasn't sorry either. He wasn't sorry because of how resilient she was now. Somehow, she became even smarter. Chrys was always the smartest person in the room. That made his blood boil in the best way.

To see an attractive competitor wherever he stood was intoxicating. It was a fight to see who would be one step ahead of who. To see who could get the upperhand. To see who had a gun to whose head first. It had Tillman thinking he would find himself melting at her perfectly manicured feet.

Chrysanthemum wasn't thinking anything of the sort. Her mind was racing on the thought of ripping his head off of his body with her thin, metal plated noose she had for private shows. It made her extra money, and it had the potential to subdue - or even kill - someone.

"I'm back because my family is dead. Permanently until I can't stand the sight of you or your father again," The black woman hissed, Gator immediately becoming intrigued and a bit offended.

"There she is.." The deputy would say under his breath as she heard her lose composure. He was always one to eat it up when he got under someone's skin. He leaned in, looking up at the returning waitress that had Chrys's food. Gator watched Chrys thank her, realizing how glossy her lips were. When her mouth opened, he peeped her top set of teeth, her canines still as sharp as ever. He remembered bugging her about it sophomore. Called her a "predator that needed to be put down" for it..

When the server left, Gator already had a comeback ready for the complex flower while she sipped her cranberry juice. He kept it close for comfort, watching her eyes roll as he hissed back.

"I'm sure we'll get sick and tired of answering disturbances that you make. You've always been so loud and angry at that," Once again, those gorgeous, dangerous eyes stared daggers into Gator.

"Piss off, Gator," She'd say between sips, waiting for him to shoo like the infuriating waste of life he was. Obviously, he wasn't going anywhere until she asked nicely.

"You're just proving my point with that attitude, Missy," and he'd keep himself seated with that inconvenient smirk.

"I'd like to enjoy my meal alone, so if you don't mind.." They sat there in silence for a moment, her tormentor getting up and leaving her be, but not before sneaking in a threat.

"I'll be checkin' on you real soon, hun.." It ringed in her wars for a moment, and so did the 'clomp' of his boots as he left. She had time. She always did. Chrys was quick to finish her meal, checking the time on her phone a few seconds later as she left a generous bill. It was only 10:30. She sat two twenties on the table before leaving. She decided to lock her car, taking her purse and going for a wall through the town while she still could.

It was a peaceful, windystroll, Chrys appreciating the way the wind calmed her by blowing through her hair . Already, she was okay again, the multifaceted woman spending thirty minutes out before she realized she was being followed. It was by the men from earlier. One had a tattoo on his neck, another had a black cowboy hat while the other had a tan one..she wasn't sure what they wanted, but if she had to guess they didn't take a liking to the mean mug she returned to them.

Chrys was quick to slow down when they yelled, pulling out one of those longer tasers she had purchased a while back before she had decided to come back home. Before she knew it, she was being corned, then greasy men were already getting handsy, and when Chrys denied their advances, she found herself against an ally wall, the tat necked man's hand tight wrapped around her throat.

That was her queue, her reflexes swiftest as she held up the taser to his chin and shocked him until he let her go. He ended up on the ground, Chrys stomping on his chest before swinging at the other threats. She aimed at the groin of the black hat man as she watched him fall to the ground to falling to the ground as well. Soon, she was tackled once again, attempting to be choked out. She began wailing on the last guy, her scratching out his eyes with her sharp, black fingernails. With his screams came vulnerability, Chrysanthemum taking this time to knock him out.. until she was just punched his face and ruining his nose.

"Hands up in the air!!" A strong voice shouted, Chrys taking a moment but slowly raising her hands from the unconscious man under her. Her amber eyes glanced back, only to see the Sheriff himself. Roy Tillman's gaze softened, looking the lithe girl up and down until he realized who it was.

"You come back just to give us trouble, Whitlock?" He asked rhetorically, nearing closer as he subdued her. As he cuffed her, she quieted herself, only looking back at him when they were both standing.

"They were getting handsy with me, and that's no way to treat a lady. Are you gonna get handsy with me, too?" She questioned, also seeming rhetorical as his hands romed up her waist when they got his horse. He lifted her up on it, the girl shaking her head as she gripped the noseband strands. Chrys eyed Roy as he grabbed her purse and registered weapon. He was quick to get behind her, telling her to spread her legs and then lock them under his. Then was the young woman trapped, her mind circling back to her plans of gaining justice injusticely.

It took all of 45 minutes for him to get back to the diner. On the way, interrogating, asking questions, and only getting the same response. When she verbally took notice of Corey, Roy uncuffed the complex flower and sent her on her way. His tired dark hues lingered on her as she hopped in her Lexus and drove off. She sped through the clear path, her eyes darted forward, and her frame felt of unease. She could tell it was going to remain like that for sometime.

When she got home, she decided to try and disperse the heightened suggestibility she felt, pulling out a bowl of freshly but pineapple from the fridge she had bought from the market last night. She'd chow down, seeing how it was only 1:17 when she arrived home and began to eat her acidic fruit. Throughout the day, she'd clean her weaponry, starting with her silver 9 millimeter and ending with her pump action shotgun.

..Eyes. Chrys could've sworn she felt eyes on her. She was casual about it, thinking if she didn't make a big scene, whomever was watching her wouldn't notice she noticed. Like a black lazy cat, Chrysanthemum slowly emerged from below her left window, only to find a Stark County squad car. God, they just didn't know when to quit. She'd squint, her eyes dilating until she focused on the figure in the squad car.

God fucking damnit! It was Gator. Chrys was quick to slide back down against the wall where she couldn't be seen. If she was going to be watched, she thought she might as well give them a run down of her usual routine. She finished up her pineapple, Chrysanthemum rinsing out the tupperware before tossing in the recycling bin.

She tidied up the kitchen, adding a freshener to keep it smelling sweet. She loved sweet and citric smells. She then turned on the television, keeping her eyes glued onto it until it was 6 in the evening. In that time, Gator spied. He spied hard. He took a gander at the guns on the island in her kitchen, noting how resourceful she still seemed. She was always resourceful, even if it was too flee and not to fight.

Soon turned nightfall, Chrys taking the time to seemingly call it quits, walking around to turn off all the lights except for the one in the kitchen, having the habit to clean up until she felt it comfortable to begin to really unwind. The pretty 20 something began to undress herself, pulling off her baby tee and her cowboy boots with her back turned. Next was her high waisted denim shorts, exposing her thin red g string, leaving nothing to the imagination. Then there was the tattoo on her side and then the burn scar on her angel wing.

"Jesus.." Gator felt his ears start to sting, one look at deep caramel colored skin, and he remembered one of the heavy feelings he had for her in high school. It was a feeling that pulsed in him whenever he watched her smile or laugh, even when he wasn't on the one to do it. One day, he wanted to. He wanted to make her smile.. to make her laugh, blush, moan, grip him like the vice she was..

..He never really admitted it to himself, but Gator Tillman had deep, romantic feelings for Chrysanthemum Whitlock. He still wouldn't admit it, but good lord was she more than easy on the eyes. She confidently strutted in her own home without a care in the world and to the way she seemingly did any and everything with complete grace.

Gator clenched his jaw, his mind racing with thoughts and emotions. He knew he had a job to do, but he couldn't deny the attraction he felt towards Chrysanthemum. And as he sat there, watching her through the window, he couldn't help but wonder what secrets she held beneath her tough exterior.

Chrys found herself back downstairs, now wearing a pair of shorts and a comfortable long sleeve before she picked up her phone. God, was she already over this. "He needs to leave.." She said to herself quietly, caressing at the 3 ambiguous beauty marks on her naturally flushed face. She was quick to her March to her front door, raising an eyebrow at the suddenly shocked deputy. She was tapping her house shoe ridden foot as she leaned against her front door.

"It's 9:00.. You've done enough 'spying' for today! Now get hell out of my property before I start shooting!!" Chrys would shout, rolling her eyes before turning back inside and slamming her door shut. As Gator backed out of the drive way, she contemplated how over this Tillman bullshit she already was, but if they wanted to waste their time ogling at her it's not like she wasn't used to it. Except she used to get paid for that bullshit behavior. Maybe she should've start charging per hour again...

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Art by: YOURS TRULY♡

Thank you for reading if you made it all the way through! And I hope to have the second installment in 2 weeks, maybe? If not, I'll be soon, I promise!! Uh, I hope you enjoyed it! See you soon!!♡

[lvdbbooks]

2023年9月15日

【新入荷・新本】

BUTT Magazine 33, BUTT, 2023

104 pages. 24 × 17 cm. Softcover.

価格：1,980円（税込）

/

This 33rd issue of BUTT is loaded with sex, lust and the desire to create new queer worlds:

SONNY KISS, professional wrestler is a bad girl in the ring By Michael Bullock and Torso

TOMO KOIZUMI, technicolor dressmaker in Tokyo loves homo zines By Leendert Sonnevelt and Kotori Kawashima

UNZIP, obsessive denim fantasies By Benjamin Fredrickson

GRACE SANDS, deejay sensation spins fag house bangers By Jordan Tannahill and Wolfgang Tillmans

HARIT SRIKHAO, Thai photographer fantasizes of democracy By Jop van Bennekom and Harit Srikhao

MEXICAN JIHAD, fuck function host and cultural synthesizer in CDMX By Zak Stone and Rodrigo Álvarez

ANDY BARAGHANI, celebrity chef knows how to eat ass By Evan Moffitt and James Emmerman

LOVE YOU, holes drawn in blue By Pol Anglada

PAUL B. PRECIADO, punk philosopher talks body politics By Juliana Huxtable

YOUNG BOY DANCING GROUP, art world performers stick it in By Melanie Bonajo

JWAN YOSEF, painter daddy seeks intimacy in his studio By Phillip Picardi and Matthias Vriens

JUST A HOLE, SIR, a glorious reader submission goes deep By Emil Cañita and Zac Bayly

[liketwoswansinbalance]

Got any book recs? Not a specific genre or anything, just some of your favorites.

Most of these are YA and middle grade fiction. I probably suffer from nostalgia and recency bias in some cases.

⸻

In no particular order:

The Assassination of Brangwain Spurge by Eugene Yelchin and M.T. Anderson

The Someday Birds by Sally J. Pla

Artemis Fowl series by Eoin Colfer

Shadow and Bone by Leigh Bardugo

The Penderwicks series Jeanne Birdsall

Mr. Penumbra’s 24-Hour Bookstore by Robin Sloan

The Miscalculations of Lightning Girl by Stacy McAnulty

The Land of Stories series by Chris Colfer

A Tale of Magic prequels by Chris Colfer

Dead Wednesday by Jerry Spinelli

The Extraordinary Education of Nicholas Benedict by Trenton Lee Stewart

The Glittering Court by Richelle Mead

The Line Tender by Kate Allen

The Siren by Kiera Cass

Divergent series by Veronica Roth

Long Way Down by Jason Reynolds

A Little Princess by Frances Hodgson Burnett

Valkyrie by Kate O'Hearn

Texting the Underworld by Ellen Booraem

The Thousandth Floor by Katharine McGee

Grounded: The Adventures of Rapunzel by Megan Morrison

The Princess Tales series by Gail Carson Levine

The Thirteenth Goldfish duology by Jennifer L. Holm

The Thing About Jellyfish by Ali Benjamin

The Don Tillman trilogy by Graeme Simsion

The World Ends in April by Stacy McAnulty

The Next-Great Paulie Fink by Ali Benjamin

Counting by 7’s by Holly Goldberg Sloan

A Mango-Shaped Space by Wendy Mass

Any classic fairy tales

Anything written by Roald Dahl

All the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr

How to Stop Time by Matt Haig

Hamlet by William Shakespeare

Macbeth by William Shakespeare

Let the Great World Spin by Colum McCann

The Things They Carried by Tim O’Brien

The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald

Main Street by Sinclair Lewis

Quiet by Susan Cain

[mundane-and-divine]

there's nothing left to say / but he should've been there anyway

Track list: Where Butterflies Never Die - Broken Iris // Volatile Times - iamx // I Am My Own Muse - Fall Out Boy // Dead Arkansas Daughter - Lady Lamb // Evelyn - Kim Tillman // Your Name - Little Glee Monster // Under Atomic Skies - iamx // i love you - Billie Eilish // interlude iv - Zach Callison // Flight of the Crows - Jhariah // Yellow Flicker Beat - Lorde // Nothing Personal - Night Riots // Outrunning Karma - Alec Benjamin // Paradise - Bear Ghost // Aspirations - Good Tiger // I'm Gonna Win - Rob Cantor // House of Wolves - MCR // Trust Me Not - Backseat Vagabond // Star - Mitski

[lonestarbattleship]

Tillman Battleship Design #IV

Completed on December 29, 1916, this design provided:

Main battery: twelve 16-inch/50-caliber guns in four triple turrets

Secondary battery: twenty-one 6-inch rapid fire guns

AA battery: unknown amount of 3-inch high powered guns

Torpedos: four submerged 21-inch tubes

Main Armor Belt: 18 inches

Machinery: Turbo electric drive

Top speed: 25.2 knots

Waterline length: 975 feet

Beam: 108 feet in beam

Normal displacement: 80,000 tons

Draft: 32 feet 9 inches

"Preliminary design plan of a hypothetical battleship created at the request of the U.S. Senate and submitted to the Senate on February 14, 1917. Senator Benjamin R. Tillman of South Carolina had sponsored a resolution calling for the design of the battleship of maximum size and capability that could use the Panama Canal and existing harbor facilities. The Navy recommended against building such ships but delivered plans illustrating potentially feasible designs that reflected differing priorities. No such ships were built. The original plan is in the 1911-1925 Spring Styles Book."

Naval History and Heritage Command: S-584-110

[thommi-tomate]

Count of players who left, joined and renewed in this transfer period

Konrad Laimer (contract until 2027, Free)

Tarek Buchmann (signs a professional contract until 2026)

Raphaël Guerreiro (contrat until 2026, Free)

Lucas Hernandez (Sold to PSG for €45 millions)

Min-jae Kim (contract until 2028, €50 millions)

Marcel Sabitzer (Sold to BVB for €19 millions)

Alexander Nübel (On loan to Stuttgart)

Johannes Schenk (extended contract until 2025 AND goes on loan to Preußen Münster)

Sadio Mané (Sold to Al Nassr for €30 millions)

Yusuf Kabadayi (signs a professional contract until 2025 and goes on loan to Schalke 04)

Yann Sommer (Sold to Inter for €6.75 million)

Malik Tillman (extended contract until 2026 and goes in loan to PSV)

Harry Kane (contract until 2027,€100 millions)

Josip Stanisić (on loan to Bayer Leverkusen)

Ritzy Hülsmann (signs a professional contract until 2026)

Daniel Peretz (contract until 2028, €5 millions)

Gabriel Vidović (on loan to Dinamo Zagreb)

Benjamin Pavard (Sold to Inter for €30 millions)

Paul Wanner (on loan to Elversberg)

Arijon Ibrahimovic (on loan with buy option to Frosinone)

Ryan Gravenberch (Sold to Liverpool for €40 millions)

[shelbyinmyviola]

Song tag game

Thank you for the tag, @straw-hat-moro, although... I do wish my URL was shorter. :D

S - Serpentine Cycle of Money (Danny Schmidt) H - Hell’s Coming With Me (Poor Man’s Poison) E - Evelyn (Kim Tillman, SIlent Films) L - Life’s a Beach (Django Django) B - Bremen (PigPen Theatre Co.) Y - You’ll Be Back (Hamilton) I - I’ve No More Fucks To Give (Thomas Benjamin Wild Esq) N - Newcomer (Gráinne Brady) M - Magnetic Rag (Scott Joplin; Itzhak Perlman version) Y - Young and Beautiful (Lana Del Rey) V - Velmi nesmělá (Jablkoň) I - It’s Hard Work (Joe Hisaichi, Spirited Away) O - Once and Future King (The Mechanisms) L - Last Song (Jason Webley) A - Armonie (Rondo Veneziano)

I’m tagging @anneluciaf, @girlwithspongebrain, and @sonicscrewdriver-hippogriff

[1900scartoons]

Not Scared

January 14, 1907

Uncle Sam smiles at the jack-in-the-boxes he has received: Japanese people popping out of the one from California, and African-Americans from the one Senator Tillman sent.

The caption reads "Uncle Sam Fails to Take Them Very Seriously."

Senator Tillman was a noted racist who was attempting to drum up fear of Black rights, while California had attempted to pass racist laws and bring about fears of the Japanese.

From Hennepin County Library

Original available at: https://digitalcollections.hclib.org/digital/collection/Bart/id/5880/rec/14

[in-the-red-notebook]

Starting to read "Notes on Photography and Accident" I was pretty annoyed. I’m not a fan of non-fiction writing, especially if it isn’t about wildlife. I grew up only reading fiction and occasionally documentary type nonfiction. I especially don’t like diaristic type pieces where the author writes about other writings. I find it pointless, I’m not interested in other people’s opinions about writings. I would rather read them myself and form my own opinions. On page 84 when she talks about “ratios of productivity” I was especially annoyed. I think that she should be shooting digitally. I think it comes from a place of extreme privilege to talk about the sheer number of rolls you shoot for little to nothing to turn out. For me there is always a feeling when I shoot an image where I know that it's going to turn out, even if it doesn’t turn out exactly as I expected there’s some kind of feeling of “oh this is going to be good”, it’s like a little rush of adrenaline. This is a main part of the reason I like taking photos. I also thought her bit on the Tillman’s MoMA show was funny. She said that she thought the images lost some of their magic when they were shrunk down. I completely disagree with that. I bought three postcards from the show and hung them up on my new collage wall at home. Everytime I have a visitor in my room they always point out two of the three postcards and ask me about them, even when they're surrounded by other photos and drawings. I appreciated that this writing was easy to read, but I don’t think it really provided any special insight. This could also be because I had just reread Walter Benjamin’s “Work of Art in the Age of Reproducibility” and Barthe’s “Camera Lucida” a week prior.

-June

[visenyaism]

Saw a post where you mentioned obscure SC History.

Wondering if you are a fellow resident? Also, Tillman was definitely a shitbird. We are ALL AntiTillmanites on this blessed day

Strongly pro Longstreet tho ...

i’m not a south carolina resident but i DID write a one hundred page paper on benjamin tillman in college. my university paid for me to go through his mail and everything. it was real interesting because SC state politics are like historically the evilest and craziest that the USA has to offer and there’s so much really important and wild stuff that happened in the late 19th century. i feel like i learned everything i need to know about fascism and right wing political movements from studying the coup of 1876 on through the 1895 constitution honestly. wish more people knew about it

[unieduvn]

Benjamin Ryan Tillman: A Tale of South Carolina's Political Enigma

https://unie.edu.vn/?p=7262 Benjamin Ryan Tillman Jr., who served as the governor of South Carolina and as a U.S. senator, was ...

[pdj-france]

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