#Court on st worker

[skipper19]

Imagine this..

Alpha!Keigo, who always made sure his mate was well taken care of. There was never anything that you would ever need or want because you already have it, so there's no need to long for it any longer. Keigo keeps his feathers hidden around the house, and a not so hidden one wrapped around your neck as a courting gift. These feathers will always let him know when his little omega is in need of something.

Alpha!Keigo put that specific feather on a necklace because it was the very last courting gift he provided to you before he asked you to be his mate, officially. Not that it was necessary. Keigo always made sure it was obvious to the people around you both that you belonged to him, bond mark or not. Not to mention the stench of nothing but Takami Keigo wafting off of you most times. Which was totally not intentional.

Alpha!Keigo was so twisted with his own emotions the first time another Alpha approached you. One one hand, Keigo knew you were his loyal omega, and you would politely reject the other Alpha, but on the other hand, Keigo wanted nothing more than to hold you so close that his scent was permanently marked into you. He wanted to growl and prowl at the other Alpha, maybe even show off your bond mark that he so happily gave to you when your relationship became official. Thank God Keigo had a reputation as the number two hero to upkeep because if he didn't, he may have actually taken the second option.

Alpha!Keigo became so flustered and nervous on the inside that the media found out about his omega mate. No one would leave you alone. Either it be asking questions about you during an interview or trying to take a picture of you as you walk down the street. Keigo hated when the reporters would spot you on the street when he wasn't there. You always come home smelling of anxiety and nervousness. Keigo, the adoring Alpha that he is, always made sure to calm your nerves on these occasions. Fortunately, you grew accustomed to the press after some time, and you easily avoided them.

Alpha!Keigo notices a rather large bruise on your arm one day, and after further investigation, he discovered it to be a hand mark. Keigo persuaded you (made you cum until you were a crying, blubbering, mess) until you finally revealed that a reporter had spotted you on the road today. You were walking home from work. The male reporter thought it would be a good idea to corner you so he could ask questions. You, rightfully so, attempted to just walk away like you always do. But this guy, alpha no less, grabbed your arm so you couldn't leave. Keigo was seeing red.

Alpha!Keigo calms down enough after a few hours. He lulls you to sleep and watches you dream away so peacefully before he pulls out his phone and makes a call.

Alpha!Keigo doesn't hesitate to let you build a nest in his office. None of his coworkers nor workers are allowed in his office after you do. Of course, they can come close to the door and knock, but they are forbidden from entering. Even when Keigo/you isn't there, they still are not allowed in his office. Your nest is too precious to even be seen by anyone else. Keigo teared up when you said you wanted to build a nest in his office and his room at his house. You trusted him enough to do that. He could only hold you close, wrapped up in his beautiful red wings, as he praises you and thanks you.

Alpha!Keigo, who hates it when you switch your shampoo. You always claim that you never cared for what shampoo you grabbed, as long as it wasn't conditioner, but he hated that you switched it up every time. Your scent just changed too much, and nothing ever smelt special for you, specifically. Finally, the night you both first made passionate love to one another for the first time. Keigos' back was lined with burning passion. His shoulders were tense, sweat dripping from his forhead, his wings jerking and relaxing every few seconds, not to mention you. Your body laid out beneath him, sweat lining your beautiful skin, hair sticking to the bed and your own face, hickies and dark bite marks scattered along your upper chest and neck, it was all perfect. What made it even more perfect was the smell that Keigo couldn't get enough of. After he had emptied his balls into you, he just laid on your chest. But Keigo didn't expect to smell the sweetest, most drooling scent he had ever smelt, pouring from your scent glands. Nothing covering or blocking you from openly releasing this scent if yours.Round two immediately started after that.

Alpha!Keigo protects you and loves you with everything he is. Man, hero, son (hopefully a daddy bird soon), you took it all when you stole his heart. Keigo would gladly put down his life for his omega, and he would put down someone else's life for you, too. Though he would say that allowed, he knows you're more sensitive about gore and killing than he is. But he doesn't care. As long as you stick by his side no matter what, he knows he will stick by yours.

And don't get be started on Alpha!Keigo becoming a father after impregnating his little omega.

[voxslays]

THANKSGIVING WITH HAZBIN °˖➴

Hazbin Crew: (Husk, Niffty, Alastor, Angel Dust, Lucifer, Charlie, Vaggie.)

First of all Alastor is in the kitchen the entire time. Nobody is allowed in there except for Niffty, and even she is only in there to help him clean up the mess. Otherwise, he is alone in the kitchen, baking all the thanksgiving classics, along with a few of his personal favorites. The classic turkey & stuffing, rolls and gravy, baked and mashed potatoes, ham, apple pie, jambalaya, etc. He makes a huge feast, leaving leftovers for weeks.

Charlie and Angel are the festive sweaters gang. Vaggie and Lucifer are also wearing sweaters, although they are both a lot less enthusiastic…they may have been forced…(I’m looking at you Charlie.) Husk is your average father, grandfather, uncle figure. He is either groaning at the football players on the television in the living room—much to Alastor’s dismay—or getting extremely drunk.

When you finally sit down to eat, (and drink for husk), there is a lot of…tension…between Alastor and Lucifer. Fortunately, they quickly forget about their past quarrels as they eat the delicious food that Alastor has prepared—WHICH LUCIFER TOTALLY COULD’VE DONE BETTER! (According to Luci.)

The Vees: (Valentino, Velvette, Vox.)

Let’s be honest, nobody but Vox can cook…and Vox is not using his one day off to cook the entire time. So it’s just your private chefs cooking the night away. They prepare all the classic thanksgiving dishes, and serve you the finest champagne.

The four of you watch the Macy’s Thanksgiving day parade, and then some football…which Vox is acting like your average uncle who lives for football. He is screaming at the TV. Velvette is scrolling on her phone, looking for Christmas inspiration for her holiday collection. Val is AGRESSIVELY texting his workers, who unsurprisingly do not have the day off. You might wanna avoid him for a while…

Val and Velvette are fighting over legroom, because of course they are. Those two are always fighting about something. You and Vox have to split them up. As the night grows old, the four of you fall asleep together on the couch watching a stupid Hallmark movie. (I love hallmark.)

Heavenly Crew: (Adam, Lute, Sera, St. Peter, Emily.)

This is definitely the most perfect and innocent Thanksgiving…until Adam and Lute show up. Let’s just say tensions are high after what happened at the heavenly court session…Adam is constantly making lewd jokes, but quickly stops when Sera gives him a warning look.

Unlike the first two examples, the cooking is a shared job. Sera and Emily do the turkey & stuffing, Lute and Peter make the mashed potatoes and gravy, and you and Adam set the table (because nobody trusts Adam to not burn the water.) Overall, its a very wholesome thanksgiving.

[fuckyeahmarxismleninism]

Dear community supporters,

We, the workers of The Brooklyn Strategist, are WALKING OUT today in protest of four recent instances of retaliation cited in an Unfair Labor Practice filed against Jon Freeman in August. The informational picket (ft. Rude Mechanical Orchestra!) will take place from 3:30-7:30PM at 333 Court St, Brooklyn, NY 11231. BSTRAT is the final store in this series of walkouts--please help us close out this month of action with a strong show of support from the community to demand: no more union busting! Contract NOW!

To learn more about our union and access all social media: https://linktr.ee/tabletopsolidarity

[writhyv]

⋆｡°✩ tfw a bad date leads to you...

tfw... | nishimura riki x male!reader

pairing: niki x male!reader genre: fluff word count: 2.3k warnings: drinking, implied stuff regarding drinking, implied stuff done by people when they encounter those who are wasted from drinking ...

Do you know that feeling when you meet someone so pretty it hurts your eyes a bit, and tugs your heart, and you feel like you're going to burst down in flames altogether where you stood? That's how exactly how you'll feel when someone just comes your way, being their cute little self.

"I'm tired." You sighed heavily as you rearranged the papers stacked neatly in front of you. It had already been a minute since you fiddled with them, not that you paid any attention to it anyway.

"Come on! It’s not like the end of the world if you tried getting out, right?" Thea, one of your co-workers, playfully tapped your back as she urged you to try another round of her matchmaking. To be honest, you had no confidence in getting anyone to date you with these blind dates. You just felt pity for your friend, however it may seem.

"I guess third time's a charm?" France, your other co-worker, leaned beside your desk. "You have to stop at some point, though. It’s still meeting strangers."

*Sigh.* Obviously, you sighed again.

"Fine, I'll go." You raised your hands in mock surrender. "But just because I don't want you to be sad, Thea."

"Yey! But it’s not for me; it’s for you!" Thea cheered. "It’s just one guy! We’ll have no idea if you don’t try now."

"Just be careful," France spoke, a hint of concern lacing his words as your friend. "The last time I saw you—"

"That was a mistake, France." You stood up quickly, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. "I should've just said no. Yet I insisted and got into some mess that you had to be called to rescue me. I still owe you for that."

France laughed quickly at this. "Pssh, it wasn't anything. You're my friend. It’s my job to look out for you."

"Uh-huh," Thea butted in, trying to suppress her laughter.

"Shut up, little person," France retorted quickly. "Best be on your way; I heard this guy booked you at 8."

"Yup! Just be on the dot!" Thea added, walking closer to you as you moved toward the elevator doors.

"Are they any better than the first guy?" you asked, feeling a flicker of hope. Maybe this guy might be worth a shot this time.

Thea laughed. "They will!"

"I'll hold you to that." You smirked as you saw the elevator doors open.

"Update us!" Thea waved as France settled behind her to see you off.

"Sure thing," you spoke as the elevator doors began to close.

The chime rang, and the shaft glided down the office floors you had grown accustomed to over the past year. Quickly getting a job after graduation had been a breeze, but all the things you had to do after that were another story. Living alone in the city was a hassle, especially with your boss’s constant demands since you were a new hire. It was probably because of your talent for working a little too hard that you might be a teensy bit gullible at this point, but oh well... It pays. So you might as well.

As for love, you never really had one. Not that it didn't interest you, but rather, you had waited for it, and it never came. You had never entertained anyone, but who would court someone as plain and boring as you? You worked hard enough to be buried in files and stacks of paperwork, so you never thought anyone would understand you on that level.

In some terms, you had given up already. But right now, it wasn’t the case. Right now, you were being given chances to see people. You never really had a preference for who to go out with—basically any type. You just wanted someone to look your way, and maybe it would spark that flame inside you too.

On your way to the bar, you saw a large sign on the side of a fancy-looking establishment. It read 'Retro Palace.' Not that it was important, but it sounded really generic. Instead of wallowing in the dilemma of the establishment's name, you stepped inside to see crowds of people. There was no way you could properly do a blind date in a place like this. Plus, you were never a club person. In fact, you hated parties and events that needed crowds. But maybe this was worth a shot. Maybe?

As you entered, you sliced through the middle of the pool of people, who were doing all kinds of things: dancing, shouting, conversing, and more. There was definitely a vibe that every person inside that place exuded.

You remembered you were supposed to go to the second floor, a platform dedicated to dining and feeling a lot more relaxed than the ground floor mess you were in. You spotted it clearly in the distance. A spiral staircase led to the top, where a small luxurious bar sat between rows of fine seats that could cater to just about anyone.

Feeling fancy, you adjusted your attire. It wasn’t your favorite combo, but you couldn’t refuse a gift from your co-worker. The suit was tight, and the colors didn’t really match your face. In any case, it still looked good with the way you carried it, but wearing it was definitely another case entirely.

As you tried to find the best seat, your phone rang. To your surprise, it was your supposed date.

"Oh, hey! I'm here." You smiled as you answered quickly.

"Yup, I can see you from where I'm sitting," the other person chuckled over the line, seemingly already inside the establishment.

"Oh? Where?" You turned to your sides to find the mysterious date.

"The nearest table to the bar. To your left." You squinted again to your left and found a guy standing and waving his hand. Looks like you’re in for a good night.

Although walking closer, it didn’t seem to click. As much as he was good-looking, there wasn't that connection you were hoping to find. It felt... odd. Maybe it was just the norm since you had never met this guy before. The night was still young.

As the guy opened up a seat for you, you thanked him for the gesture and settled in comfortably. He introduced himself.

"Hi! I'm Chang. You must be?"

"Yup, in the flesh," you nodded. Whoever Thea had connections with, she sure had many. This was the second guy she referred to, but it did seem she had a whole collection up her sleeve of people to refer. It seemed... concerning. But that was for another day.

The conversation started light, but as the minutes passed, you felt the disconnect grow. Chang had a pleasant demeanor, but your mind wandered. You were trying to connect, but something felt off.

“Have you been to any other places like this?” he asked, taking a sip of his drink.

“Not really. I prefer quieter spots,” you replied, feeling a mix of anxiety and discomfort.

“Ah, come on! You gotta live a little!” Chang laughed, but it felt forced, like he was trying too hard.

As you looked around, a waiter walked near and handed you two drinks. Chang clasped his hands around yours and served it on his own.

"Here. Got you a fine mix for the night. On me." Chang smiled broadly as he mixed your drink with the straw it came with. That was... a gesture for sure. You could only smile so wearily.

Chang then raised his drink and moved closer to you.

"To more chances of seeing your handsome face up close. Cheers." His eyes meticulously focused on you, prompting chills down your spine. Was this what real nerves were supposed to feel like? Or just cringe?

"Sure. Cheers." You could have never said that more tiredly. Almost doing it all for the sake of finishing the date, you drank the mix in one go. Chang's eyes widened at your action, but he nevertheless still enjoyed watching you unravel little by little.

As you took another sip from your glass, you felt the warmth intensifying, the drink beginning to take effect. The tension that had settled in your shoulders began to ease, and you found yourself laughing at Chang's jokes, even if they weren’t particularly funny.

“Alright, let’s play a game,” Chang suggested, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Two truths and a lie! I’ll go first.”

You leaned in closer, intrigued despite yourself. The game had a way of breaking the ice, and at this moment, you needed a distraction from the gnawing feeling of disconnect. Chang quickly rattled off his statements, and you found yourself engaged, playing along.

As the minutes turned into hours, you began to notice something unsettling about Chang. His laughter felt a bit too loud, his gestures a bit too exaggerated, and the way he leaned in closer made you feel uneasy. You brushed it off at first, attributing it to the atmosphere of the bar and the alcohol coursing through your veins.

“Another round?” Chang asked, his smile wide and inviting.

“Why not?” you said, raising your glass, feeling more adventurous than ever. You downed your drink, the sensation of the alcohol igniting a fire within you that you hadn’t expected. You weren't really a big fan of drinking, but when you did, you always tended to go all out.

But as the night wore on, the laughter grew quieter, and your surroundings began to shift. The edges of your vision blurred, and the sounds around you became muffled. You could sense the growing warmth of the alcohol wrapping around you like a cozy blanket.

“Hey, I think I need a breather,” you mumbled, standing up unsteadily. The room swayed slightly, and Chang reached out to steady you, a predatory glint in his eyes.

“Let’s step outside for a bit,” he suggested, guiding you toward the exit. As you stepped outside, the cool air hit your face, but it couldn’t chase away the feeling of unease that settled in your stomach.

“Feeling good?” Chang asked, leaning in a little too close for comfort. His breath smelled of alcohol, and you could see the way his eyes roamed over you, making your skin crawl.

“Uh, yeah, just… need some fresh air,” you replied, trying to put some distance between you.

“Come on, don’t be shy. You know you had fun tonight,” he said, his tone dripping with false charm. “Why don’t we continue this party just the two of us?”

Your heart raced as you realized the implications of his words. “I think I should really be going,” you said, attempting to step back.

But Chang blocked your path, his expression shifting from playful to something darker. “Oh, come on. You’re not going to leave me hanging after all this fun, are you?” His gaze lingered a little too long, and the way he reached out to brush a stray hair behind your ear sent shivers down your spine.

“Seriously, I need to go,” you insisted, your voice trembling slightly.

“Just relax,” he said, his smile widening unnaturally as he leaned closer. “We can have a lot more fun. Just you and me.”

The panic set in, and before you could respond, the world around you began to blur again. You could feel the warmth of the alcohol wrapping around you like a heavy blanket, pulling you down into darkness.

“Hey, don’t you want to have a good time?” Chang’s voice echoed in yo̵u̸r̷ ̸m̵i̸n̶d̷ ̶a̷s̴ ̷e̶v̶e̸r̷y̷t̴h̵i̸n̸g̶ ̸f̷a̵d̵e̷d̵ ̶t̴o̶ ̶b̴l̸a̴c̸k̴.̷

Your eyes jolted awake, blinking against the sunlight streaming through a window. The air smelled of something delicious—bacon and eggs? As you looked around, a weight shifted, seemingly on top of you, and you looked down to find a small, fluffy dog staring intently at you.

Strange... It was a dog you vaguely recognized, who tilted his head, his big eyes full of curiosity. You couldn't help but chuckle at the sight, the dog's innocent demeanor contrasting sharply with the confusion swirling in your mind.

As you took in your surroundings, you realized you were in an unfamiliar room. The cozy space was decorated with simple but charming furnishings that felt oddly welcoming. The faint sound of sizzling came from the kitchen nearby.

“You're awake. That's good.” A calm voice called from that direction. You turned to see a figure moving about, clearly busy preparing breakfast.

“Uh, morning?” you managed to reply, your voice still thick with sleep.

“You must be hungry. You really knocked back those drinks last night.” A young man with a relaxed demeanor approached, holding a plate full of food.

Your heart sank slightly, memories of the previous night flooding back but feeling scattered and muddled. You recalled laughter, games, and warmth, but something about the night felt off, like a detail on the tip of your tongue that you couldn’t quite grasp.

"Wait... You're..."

"Not the guy you were with last night? Definitely." The young man smirked. "I'm Nishimu— I mean, just Ni-ki is fine."

You tilted your head, curious as to who this man was. He looked too young, too bright, and well ... too handsome. He only wore a grey tank top, exposing his bare arms that were a bit defined. Not that it mattered, he was in the comfort of his own home anyway. His eyes were sharp, but not piercing through you. Instead, they were filled with simple concern. As he sat next to you, he brushed stray hair from your face. With the way he treated you, you couldn't help but feel a light warmth buzzing over your cheeks. That was certainly... a reaction.

“Did I… did I spend the night here?” you asked cautiously, looking around as you distracted yourself from the thought you just had.

Ni-ki shrugged, his expression steady and thoughtful. “Yeah, you were out cold when we got back. I couldn’t just leave you on the street. You were shivering all over here. Bisco was worried, you know?”

You glanced at Bisco, who had jumped off the bed and was now wagging his tail happily, oblivious to your unease. "Oh... That's a nice name."

"Thanks..." "..." "Oh, you meant the dog? Cool. Cool, cool."

“...but thank you.” You replied, trying to keep your voice steady. “Also, I don’t really remember much after stepping outside.”

“Things can get a bit wild sometimes,” Ni-ki said, his tone calm but with an underlying sense of understanding. “You seemed like you were having fun, but it’s always good to be careful.”

Your heart raced as unease gripped you tighter. You felt trapped in a moment that should have been carefree, with Bisco’s warm presence only slightly comforting against the growing realization that something was very wrong.

oooh! cliffhanger! woo! hopefully i get to write more hehe. also ... niki ... 🥺💙 more stories? check out my masterlist

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Donald Padgett at The Advocate:

A state investigation into the Washington University Transgender Center at St. Louis Children’s Hospital has expanded to target therapists and social workers who may have minors seeking gender-affirming care. Missouri Attorney General Andrew Bailey is seeking redacted or lightly redacted medical records of patients who received care at the facility. The state investigation of the center is one of many currently underway, including one by U.S. Sen. Josh Hawley. The move left the state’s trans and healthcare communities with concern over future access to gender-affirming care for transgender youth in the state, the Missouri Independent reported.

“The attorney general has created a hostile environment for medical providers where they are afraid to stay and practice medicine,” Katy Erker-Lynch, executive director of PROMO, an LGBTQ+ advocacy group in the state, said. Bailey is reviewing the records at the Missouri Division of Professional Registration which oversees the state’s medical licensing as part of the investigation. He had earlier targeted Planned Parenthood Great Plains and Children’s Mercy, a hospital in Kansas City. Bailey has reportedly interviewed 57 healthcare professionals in connection with the investigation. Licensed clinical social worker Kelly Storck spoke with senior investigator Nick McBroom as part of the investigation.

[...]

The Center earlier turned over a spreadsheet providing information regarding patients seeking gender-affirming care, including visits, medications, and other normally private information. The mother of one patient who received care at the Center, a 17-year-old trans boy named Levi, described the investigation as “invasive” and said it was causing unwarranted disruption in their lives. “The state has already basically disrupted our lives,” Becky Hormuth told the Independent. “They’ve disrupted our families, our children’s lives with the legislation that has passed. Then for him to continue going on is even more invasive and damaging.” After Missouri passed a ban on gender-affirming care for minors last year, Bailey issued an emergency rule banning similar care for trans adults as well. In the document laying out the policy, he said these treatments “lack solid evidentiary support” and “pose very serious side effects.” He withdrew the rule when state lawmakers acted. Missouri Gov. Mike Parson, a Republican, signed the ban into law in June. It was quickly challenged in court, but a judge allowed it to go into effect.

Missouri AG Andrew Bailey (R) continues his farcical investigation into gender-affirming care providers, extending his targets to therapists and social workers who assist minors in obtaining gender-affirming care.

[talonabraxas]

Khamael , Archangel of Mars Talon Abraxas

Samael is the Archangel of Mars – prince of the fifth heaven, lord of war and pestilence, and angel of death and destruction. He is the Sathan (Adversary) who visited wrath upon Job, slew the firstborn in Egypt, and (as the Guardian Angel of Easu) wrestled with Jacob. As the Sathan he accuses men of their wrongdoings in the Divine Court. Samael should not be confused with the modern Christian concept of Lucifer or the Devil. Samael is not the source of all evil, nor did he ever wage war upon the Throne of God.

He was, however, cast down to Earth when he refused to bow to Adam as the Image of God. (He had previously sworn to never bow to anything less than God Himself.) Once here, he took Lilith as his wife and has acted as the Divine Accuser, Enforcer and Angel of Death ever since. While he is still very much in the employ of God, he persecutes and seduces mankind when he is ordered to do so.

(Some sources equate Samael with Shemyaza, the leader of the fallen Watchers from the Book of Enoch. This is likely due to both Samael and Shemyaza being punished for disobedience, yet each retaining their positions as celestial angels. However the angels share no other characteristics, and this similarity does not prove the two angels are one and the same.)

The ancient Gnostics elevated him to the position of Demiurgos (the Creator) and interpreted his name to mean “Blind God.” They also called him Ialdabaoth and Saklas. His form was described as a lion-headed serpent. He and his angels (called archons) had created the world as a prison where they could feed upon mankind’s suffering. Later forms of Gnosticism, however, did not equate Ialdabaoth with Samael.

Samael was at one point regarded as the Patron Angel of Rome – and it is likely in this aspect that we see him (as the Dragon with Seven Heads) engaging in single combat against Michael (the Patron Angel of Israel) in the Revelation of St. John.

More recent tradition has given him the name Khamael (Camael, Camuel, etc) – the result of mistranslating a Hebrew Samekh (S) as a Kaph (Kh). In this form he is regarded primarily as the Angel of War and Divine Severity.

Invitation to Samael

I invoke thee, Samael! Holy Archangel of the Martial sphere! I call upon thee within thy realm of Severity and Fear!

Samael, Powerful, Bloody, Sword-bearer, Bold, Untamed, Terrestrial Fire, against whom none can defend himself, thou who destroys the strong and powerful, Lord of fiery heat – and of the planet of blood!

Samael, who art the Adversary, accusing men of their wrongdoing. Fearsome warrior and divine enforcer! You who inflicted Job with sorrow, who slew the firstborn of Egypt, and wrestled with Jacob. It is you who bears the wrath of God unto the Earth! You who overthrow nations and cast kings down from their thrones!

O Samael, we have called upon you [here list the reasons you have called him in the past, if any, and the positive results that came from those workings]. For all of this we thank you!

Come thou forth and partake of these offerings, which we have prepared in thy honour and to the glory of Elohim Gibor. May you find them pleasing and empowering. I ask that you offer your blessings to my home and family, and bear our offerings and prayers of thanksgiving to the Divine Court. We petition thee for strength and protection in all of our undertakings, for defense of our home, and that the light of thy wisdom should guide and keep us at all times. In the name of Elohim Gibor. Amen.

[titleleaf]

Paul Hunt received over sixty essays after an appeal in newspapers and magazines for contributions, and eventually published twelve. All contributors had physical impairments, and most wrote about the effect on their intimate relationships and aspirations. Hunt (1937–79) had a particularly sharp experience of social segregation. He turned sixteen in 1953 whereupon his access to care and education at Queen Mary’s Children’s Hospital, Carshalton ended abruptly. Becoming (as defined by the hospital administrators) an adult was an abrupt transition and meant immediate uprooting. Hunt’s muscular dystrophy and wheelchair use made it impossible for him to live at home; he was sent instead to the ‘chronic ward’ at St John’s Hospital, Battersea. As Luke Beesley and Tony Baldwinson document, this was a neglectful, hopeless environment in which chronically ill, mostly elderly patients were dumped. Disability was confused with ill-health, and many disabled ‘patients’ were unnecessarily confined to bed, or used as ward labour, feeding and dressing other residents without pay. The label ‘Young Chronic Sick’ was attached to anyone under sixty-five on these wards to distinguish them from geriatric patients, indicating the distorted age categories commonly applied to disabled people; one activist, Pamela La Fane, described it as ‘growing up geriatric’ in a newspaper exposé of her own experiences of nearly thirty years in a ‘chronic sick’ ward from age sixteen. Hunt became a determined advocate for himself and others, managing to get released at age nineteen when he moved into Le Court, a home run by the Leonard Cheshire Foundation. In this adapted environment that claimed to provide a genuine home, Hunt continued to battle petty restrictions that tried to limit residents’ bedtimes and silence dissent. He embarked on a journalism campaign, advocating freedom to make life choices for disabled people in both the national press and Le Court’s own journal, the Cheshire Smile. In 1970, he married Judy Hunt, a former worker employed at Le Court; the couple moved into their own home and continued their joint involvement in disabled people’s activism.

"Marriage, intimacy and adulthood in disabled people's lives and activism in twentieth-century Britain", Lucy Delap

[the-avaricious-meddler]

Name: Alana _____ Monikers:  -The Gambling Former Noble/The Gambling Revolutionary (depending on what circles you're in) -Mr Cards Age: 27 (Main 4 storyline), 34 (Violet Storyline) Species: Transition phase between Human and Curator Gender/Pronouns: Girlthing (She/it) Ambition: Heart's Desire (Power Ending) Profession: Correspondent Lodgings: Suite at The Royal Bethlehem Closest To: Revolutionaries Other Affiliations: The Liberation of Night (Allies), The Masters of The Bazaar (Target), The Cardsharp Monkey (Ally), Mr Pages (Enemy), Virginia (Enemy), The Bishop of St Fiacre's (Rival, One-sided), The Manager of The Royal Bethlehem (Complicated), Rubbery Men, Tomb-Colonists, The Court of The Wakeful Eye, The Dilmun Club (tentatively), The Youthful Naturalist, Polythreme Most Valued Primary Stat(s): Persuasive, Shadowy Most Valued Advanced Stat(s): Artisan of The Red Science, Kataleptic Toxicology Ship: Il-Altun-class Yacht  Estivals Experienced: Horticulture Hell, The Sixth Coil

Exceptional/Premium stories canon to this character: Caveat Emptor

Personality: Well-meaning but selfish, artistically inclined, loyal to allies but not always honest about who those allies are. Has strong revolutionary leanings, and aids The Liberation of Night- though unless you are already enmeshed in revolutionary circles, you wouldn't know it. Nasty gambling habit.

History:

Born on the surface in 1868 to a declining noble family.  Despite this, they still had a sizable estate, though they were frequently forced to use 'less than desirable' means of moneymaking to preserve their wealth. Her father was a factory-owner, and wanted her older brother to inherit it, whilst she was to be wed to a more successful family to boost the wealth of her own. She frequently witnessed the poor treatment her family's servants- and the factory's workers- were put through, causing her to become jaded to her way of life.

When she was 16, she turned to gambling, and through this she met a group that would permanently alter the course of her life- a small band of Liberationists that still lived on the surface. She joined them in secret, knowing there would be consequences should her family learn of her association. And eventually they did, and there were. At 18, she was discovered and fully disowned, ousted with little more than the clothes on her back.

She would remain on the surface for 7 years more, before deciding she could do more for her cause if she moved out of the Stars' sight. And so at age 25, she descended to The Neath, taking up residence in a cheap rookery somewhere between Veilgarden and Spite. It was around this time she learned about The Marvellous, and began to hatch a plan: she would find a way into this game, win at whatever cost, and use this victory to gain Power. Status. Enough to get into ranks high enough to consort with the Masters of The Bazaar. And from there, she would subvert, sabotage. Use that power to tear them apart from the inside.

Two years of searching. That was how long it took for her to get a potential in to the Marvellous. And how long it took for her to learn she'd have to wait five more if she wanted to play by the game's usual rules. But she wasn't interested in waiting that long. So she set about 'gently encouraging' the current set of players to begin the game early.

(Major spoilers for Ambition: Heart's Desire below)

A peculiar monkey, Intelligent beyond what it should be though not keen on communication, became her companion in this endeavor.

And her attempts, though tiresome and annoying, and requiring her to convince an imprisoned former Prince of hell to pretend to pretend to be freed and make an even further enemy out of the deviless Virginia, were ultimately successful. She convinced almost every player.

And then a larger obstacle presented itself: a Master of The Bazaar was a player. One Mr Pages, whom she already disliked, at that. She unfortunately needed to get its attention. But how?

It was then an individual she would come over time to despise showed up at her door. They introduced themself with no name, only a moniker: The Avaricious Meddler. A moniker she had heard before, not long after she'd descended to the Neath. One many disparate individuals had taken up over the decades with seemingly no connection.

They offered her a deal: They would help her with her goals, if she just did them a little favor later down the line. Not trusting them, but not having many other options, she agreed. 

They told her the location of a long-inactive cell of revolutionaries, and what to tell them to get them into action. What to do to target The Bazaar itself. 

Of course, before any part of this plan could be carried out, none other than Pages itself showed up. And it asked her to join the Marvellous. ...How convenient.

She agreed, of course. One doesn't turn down that kind of convenience when it quite literally comes knocking at one's door.

Being the one to disrupt the players' lives by starting the game up five years early, it fell upon her shoulders to put in the footwork to actually get things going. She would find a venue that fit with everyone's requirements, and convince whomever owned it to let them play there.

Of course, that location ended up being Arbor, one of the most irritating places to travel to. She was not unconvinced she was in some way being punished for her insistence.

(To be continued...)

[vidrig]

Swedish Unions vs Tesla

I'm not sure you've heard, but right now Elon Musk and Tesla are in a union conflict in Sweden. A big one. The biggest one Sweden has seen in decades, in fact. It all started in 2018 when Tesla refused to sign a collective agreement with IF Metall, one of Sweden's biggest unions with over 300 000 members. Now, a lot of companies in Sweden don't have unionized members, but metal workers are traditionally very strong.

So what happened? Tesla refused collective agreements in USA, Germany and Sweden, and all hell broke loose as Swedish unions decided to take action:

17 October: IF Metall warns about a strike. Tesla refuses to negotiate.

27 October: Blockades are created at Sweden's seven Tesla workshops. Tesla calls in strikebreakers, which is NOT well received.

3 November: The blockades are expanded to all metalwork on Tesla cars in Sweden, at 17 workplaces all in all.

17 November: At this point, several other unions joins. Fastighets makes sure no Tesla facilities are being cleaned, no Tesla cars are being loaded or unloaded at the docks, no electric work is being done on Tesla cars, loading stations or facilities.

20-21 November: Most damning of all: SEKO and ST has created a blockade against delivering mail and packages to Tesla. Why is this a problem? Because without registration plates you can't sell a working car in Sweden, period.

No, Elon. You're insane.

23 November: Blockade against paint jobs for Tesla.

28 November: Blockade against construction work for Tesla. Also, on this day Tesla sues the Swedish state and the postal company Postnord for refusing to deliver their registration plates. Unfortunately for them, the Swedish court ruled that Postnord has no duty to deliver anything before the trial. Since the right to strike is protected by the Swedish constitutional laws, it overrules the postal delivery law, according to Postnord. And Tesla cannot get those signs themselves.

So what happens now?

We'll see, but things are not looking good for Elon. Good luck with your useless cars, you worthless capitalist piece of shit.

More info from English news sources

[fatehbaz]

The rise of the European empires [...] required new forms of social organization, not least the exploitation of millions of people whose labor powered the growth of European expansion [...]. These workers suffered various forms of coercion ranging from outright slavery through to indentured or convict labor, as well as military conscription, land theft, and poverty. [...] [W]ide-ranging case studies [examining the period from 1600 to 1850] [...] show the variety of working conditions and environments found in the early modern period and the many ways workers found to subvert and escape from them. [...] A web of regulation and laws were constructed to control these workers [...]. This system of control was continually contested by the workers themselves [...]

---

Timothy Coates [...] focuses on three locations in the Portuguese empire and the workers who fled from them. The first was the sugar plantations of São Tomé in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. The slaves who ran away to form free communities in the interior of the island were an important reason why sugar production eventually shifted to Brazil. Secondly, Coates describes working conditions in the trading posts around the Indian Ocean and the communities of runaways which formed in the Bay of Bengal. The final section focuses on convicts and sinners in Portugal itself, where many managed to escape from forced labor in salt mines.

Johan Heinsen examines convict labor in the Danish colony of Saint Thomas in the Virgin Islands. Denmark awarded the Danish West Indies and Guinea Company the right to transport prisoners to the colony in 1672. The chapter illustrates the social dynamics of the short-lived colony by recounting the story of two convicts who hatched the escape plan, recruited others to the group, including two soldiers, and planned to steal a boat and escape from the island. The plan was discovered and the two convicts sentenced to death. One was forced to execute the other in order to save his own life. The two soldiers involved were also punished but managed to talk their way out of the fate of the convicts. Detailed court records are used to show both the collective nature of the plot and the methods the authorities used to divide and defeat the detainees.

---

James F. Dator reveals how workers in seventeenth-century St. Kitts Island took advantage of conflict between France and Britain to advance their own interests and plan collective escapes. The two rival powers had divided the island between them, but workers, indigenous people, and slaves cooperated across the borders, developing their own knowledge of geography, boundaries, and imperial rivalries [...].

Nicole Ulrich writes about the distinct traditions of mass desertions that evolved in the Dutch East India Company colony in South Africa. Court records reveal that soldiers, sailors, slaves, convicts, and servants all took part in individual and collective desertion attempts. [...] Mattias von Rossum also writes about the Dutch East India Company [...]. He [...] provides an overview of labor practices of the company [...] and the methods the company used to control and punish workers [...].

---

In the early nineteenth century, a total of 73,000 British convicts were sentenced to be transported to Van Diemen’s Land (Tasmania). There, the majority were rented out as laborers to private employers, and all were subjected to surveillance and detailed record keeping. These records allow Hamish Maxwell-Stewart and Michael Quinlan to provide a detailed statistical analysis of desertion rates in different parts of the colonial economy [...].

When Britain abolished the international slave trade, new forms of indentured labor were created in order to provide British capitalism with the labor it required. Anita Rupprecht investigates the very specific culture of resistance that developed on the island of Tortola in the British Virgin Islands between 1808 and 1828. More than 1,300 Africans were rescued from slavery and sent to Tortola, where officials had to decide how to deal with them. Many were put to work in various forms of indentured labor on the island, and this led to resistance and rebellion. Rupprecht uncovers details about these protests from the documents of a royal commission that investigated [...].

---

All text above by: Mark Dunick. "Review of Rediker, Marcus; Chakraborty, Titas; Rossum, Matthias van, eds. A Global History of Runaways: Workers, Mobility, and Capitalism 1600-1850". H-Socialisms, H-Net Reviews. April 2024. Published at: h-net.org/reviews/showrev.php?id=58852 [Bold emphasis and some paragraph breaks/contractions added by me. Presented here for commentary, teaching, criticism purposes.]

[oldraysblog]

Elder Rape Is a Strength!

Yet another example of how importing the Third World wrecks everything

ANN COULTER

DEC 4

 

READ IN APP 

As part of the Biden administration's  push to make everything worse and more expensive, the Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services (CMS) -- not to be confused with Congress, which writes the laws because we live in a democracy ha ha ha -- issued a prospective rule requiring nursing homes to hire more staff.

Because who better to determine the staffing needs of the country's 15,000 nursing homes than Chiquita Brooks-LaSure, Biden's CMS administrator? Also supporting the new rule are "patient advocates," i.e. the Service Employees International Union, looking to increase its membership rolls.

Fortunately, The New York Times reports, President-elect Donald Trump is expected to repeal the Biden staffing mandates.

Also fortunately, I have a much better idea! Like Brooks-LaSure, my expertise does not come from running nursing homes. It comes from reading the news.

Such as ...

In 2018, hardworking Kenyan immigrant Billy Chemirmir enriched elderly nursing home patients in Texas by allegedly murdering at least 22 of them and stealing their jewelry. (Who will care for the elderly without mass third world immigration?) He was convicted in the first two trials and then killed in prison.

The year prior, Ethiopian immigrant Adeladilew A. Mekonen got 25 years after pleading guilty to sexually assaulting two patients at Providence St. Vincent Medical Center in Portland, Oregon, women aged 89 and 94. (By the way, why is an Ethiopian living in Portland?)

Third world immigrants are hard workers, though. Liberian George Kpingbah was a ripe old 77, but still managed to rape an elderly Alzheimer's patient at the Walker Methodist Health Center in Minneapolis. This guy is a walking TV commercial for Cialis.

At the 2015 sentencing hearing, Kpingbah's lawyer sought leniency on the grounds that the perp had "devoted much of his life to ensuring that his three daughters migrated to America," as The Minnesota Star Tribune put it.

How can we ever thank you, Mr. Kpingbah?

In 2017, Parkpoom Seesangrit -- you'll never believe it, but yup, another immigrant -- was convicted of raping a 69-year-old dementia patient at the East Longmeadow Skilled Nursing Center in Massachusetts. When the Thai national was caught by a nurse, he said, "I know I'm in trouble. This looks bad."



Like so many immigrants, Seesangrit created another job right here in America: He needed a Thai interpreter at his trial. (Turns out our country is fairly bristling with Thais.)

In 2013, nursing assistant Antonio Nieto was convicted of sexually assaulting three female patients, aged 59, 73 and 93, in a Broomfield, Colorado, nursing home. In accordance with the Times Style Guide, the media refused to reveal where Nieto was from, but his lawyer said English was his second language and he needed a Spanish-language interpreter in court, so: Latin America.

In 2018, Ghanaian immigrant Fode Doukoure pleaded guilty to sexually assaulting a 74-year-old woman after placing an anesthesia-soake d rag over her mouth.

May I speak with the people who hired these guys? The ones who thought cheap labor was worth placing men from raging rape cultures in charge of weak, elderly Alzheimer's patients?

Why are you crying, Grandma? Hey! Where's your diamond-encruste d brooch?

The media would sooner praise MAGA than admit that most of the world outside of the West is a cesspool of child rape, gang rape, elder rape, torture rape, goat rape, AIDS, multidrug-resist ant gonorrhea and so on. But it's not an impenetrable mystery, and when you’re hiring employees to work with helpless dementia patients, it's kind of important to understand this aspect of non-Western culture.



I will briefly mention some suggestive facts about only the countries mentioned here, a subject I cover in detail in "Adios, America!"

Mass rape was a regular feature of Liberia's 14-year civil war, as it is in most wars on the Dark Continent -- also in response to minor skirmishes, celebrations, election seasons and filming a music video.

Kenya's three-month election season, for example, features mass rapescommitted by police, ordinary Kenyans and militia groups. (And you thought our elections were bad.)

During the two-year conflict in Tigray, Ethiopia, government forces rapedhundreds of women, in front of friends and family, holding some as sex slaves for repeated gang rapes, sometimes inserting large nails, gravel, metal and plastic shrapnel into their victims' vaginas, among other things. (On the plus side, none of them were fat-shamed or made to feel unheard.)

Thailand is ranked among the top 10 countries for violence against women and girls. Last year, 11 Thai police officers were charged with gang-raping a 14-year-old girl.

The Inter-American Children’s Institute reports that Latin America is second only to Asia in the sexual exploitation of women and children, who are “seen as objects instead of human beings with rights and freedoms.”

In 2018, naive British teenagers paid 1,200 pounds apiece to go on a class trip to "volunteer" in ... Ghana. Whereupon armed Ghanaian and Nigerian men broke into their compound, beat and robbed the males and raped the girls and their female teacher for three hours, finally leaving at around 4 a.m.

Contra Brooks-LaSure, the last thing nursing homes need is more Kenyans, Ethiopians, Liberians, Thais and Latin Americans. What’s really needed is fewer rapes.

Here's something useful Dr. Mehmet Oz could do at CMS that would create no additional paperwork or regulatory burden for nursing homes: Investigate every one of these monstrous crimes and widely publish the names and incomes of the facility owners and operators who thought the abuse of elderly Americans was a small price to pay for all that cheap foreign labor.



[dionysus-complex]

So last night I was reading Wikipedia articles about abandoned NYC subway stations (as one does) and stumbled upon one of the weirdest historical mysteries/conspiracy theories I've ever heard. Buckle in/grab on to the handrail for this:

Unsurprisingly for a 100-year-old, highly complex subway network, there are quite a few abandoned subway stations in NYC. Some of them are famous, like the gorgeous Romanesque Revival City Hall Station, or the Court St station in Brooklyn now in use as the New York Transit Museum. Others are more mundane, like the 18th Street station and the Worth Street station, both of which are disused stations on active subway lines that can be seen out the window of a passing subway car if you're paying attention. But by far the weirdest is the 76th Street station, which may or may not actually exist.

Basically, the IND Fulton Street Line is the line that carries A and C line trains from central Brooklyn to Queens (if you've ever taken an A train from downtown Brooklyn or Lower Manhattan to JFK Airport, that's the one). Just before the Brooklyn/Queens borough line, the line veers slightly north as it changes from a subway under Pitkin Ave (on the Brooklyn side) to an elevated line over Liberty Ave (on the Queens side). But originally, when this line was being extended toward Queens in the late 1940s, the plan was to continue the underground line further into Queens under Pitkin Avenue. Tunnels were dug to the present-day Euclid Ave station and then continued further beneath Pitkin Ave, toward a planned station at 76th Street and Pitkin (just barely over the Queens borough line).

On Nov. 28, 1948, this line is recorded as opening with service to 76th Street station, but almost immediately there was a controversy over whether, when, and how this 76th Street station had actually been built. Some engineers and tracklayers were quoted in the Times as saying they hadn't built anything past the borough line, but maybe someone else had. There was also a story on Dec 2 that quoted a local who noticed a new subway station entrance at 76th and Pitkin that had sprung up seemingly overnight. The Board of Transportation was unable to produce any contracts for construction of this mysterious station, and the line past Euclid Ave to 76th Street is recorded as having closed on Dec 20 after legal threats from unions, which suspected a coverup of non-unionized labor. Thereafter, any reference to the 76th Street station was purged on maps, signs, etc., although the signalboard at the Euclid Ave station evidently still has a taped-over portion which used to show the 76th street station.

Eventually, the line was extended by connecting the subway to the already-existing Fulton Street Elevated line, which is the path used today. A cinderblock wall apparently blocks off the end of the subway tunnel under Pitkin Ave, and a retired transit worker named Steve Krokowski told the NY Times in 2014 that he had tried to dig under the wall and found a track tie but was forced to stop when the hole began to cave in. He also mentioned a retired police officer and other unnamed colleagues who claimed to have seen the fully completed 76th street station, which may or may not have been accessible via a door that may or may not have existed in the cinderblock wall.

The intersection of Pitkin and 76th is now a populated residential area, and it's unlikely that anyone is ever going to excavate it to find the station. As far as anyone can tell, on the surface, there's no evidence (i.e. ventilation tunnels etc.) of a subway station existing beneath Pitkin and 76th. There seems to be one existing picture of the 76th street station from its brief time in service (you can view it here - scroll down almost to the bottom), but despite this, it seems like people are still skeptical that the station exists at all.

Sources/further reading:

-Wikipedia article on Euclid St station, with a section labeled "East of the station"

-Article on the station from Joseph Brennan's page on abandoned NYC subway stations

-NY Times article from 2014 in which Krokowski is quoted

[traumacatholic]

Im on the verge of suicide and I suspect my two sisters are as well. While I don't think I will ever do it, because I'm religious, idk about them. And even if I won't do it, to live in such a torment ad the one I'm experiencing is unbearable and unimaginable. Logically I believe in the power of prayers, but on a personal level I find it unlikely anything will ever help me. But I'm still asking for prayers in the intention of us three staying alive no matter what.

I'm really sorry to hear that you and your sisters are struggling with suicidal thoughts. I don't know where you live, but please know that there will be crisis and non-crisis resources that you can access for support and pass on resources to your sisters (as well as to use for yourself). Suicide hotlines are just one form of accessing support. You can absolutely reach out to your local doctor, or see what other support services are in place. Sometimes you can access therapy groups which can often have shorter waiting list times and can often be offered for free or low cost. There are also a range of apps that are free or low cost that offer a range of coping mechanisms. I would recommend just putting in 'mental health' or 'suicide support' into your app store because sometimes it will also recommend apps that are ran by local resources to you.

As for prayers, something that you can try and do is use these prayers. You can say them when you get up in the morning, before you go to bed, or whenever you feel like anxiety/pain/etc is building up. You can pick up praying one of them a day, or whenever you're able, or using more than one. Whatever you feel is most beneficial to you (and also most achievable). I'm giving you a range of prayers under a readmore, just because some of them vary in length and you might find a certain length of prayer works best for you.

Lord Jesus Christ Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner

----

Good Saint Dymphna, great wonder-worker in every affliction of mind and body, I humbly implore your powerful intercession with Jesus through Mary, the Health of the Sick, in my present need. (Mention it.) Saint Dymphna, martyr of purity, patroness of those who suffer with nervous and mental afflictions, beloved child of Jesus and Mary, pray to Them for me and obtain my request.

(Pray one Our Father, one Hail Mary and one Glory Be.)

Saint Dymphna, Virgin and Martyr, pray for us.

----

Glorious Archangel Saint Raphael, great prince of the heavenly court, you are illustrious for your gifts of wisdom and grace.

You are a guide of those who journey by land or sea or air, consoler of the afflicted, and refuge of sinners. I beg you, assist me in all my needs and in all the sufferings of this life, as once you helped the young Tobias on his travels.

Because you are the medicine of God, I humbly pray you to heal the many infirmities of my soul and the ills that afflict my body. I especially ask of you the favor

(mention your request here)

and the great grace of purity to prepare me to be the temple of the Holy Spirit.

St. Raphael, of the glorious seven who stand before the throne of Him who lives and reigns, Angel of health, the Lord has filled your hand with balm from heaven to soothe or cure our pains. Heal or cure the victim of disease and guide our steps when doubtful of our ways.

Amen.

---

O my beloved Queen, my hope, O Mother of God, protector of orphans and protector of those who are hurt, the savior of those who perish and the consolation of all those who are in distress, thou seest my misery, thou seest my sorrow and my loneliness. Help me—I am powerless; give me strength. Thou knowest what I suffer, thou knowest my grief: Lend me thy hand, for who else can be my hope but thee, my protector and my intercessor before God? I have sinned before thee and before all people. Be my Mother, my consoler, my helper. Protect me and save me, chase grief away from me, chase my lowness of heart and my despondency. Help me, O Mother of my God!

----

Thee alone I follow, Lord Jesus, Who heals my wounds. For what shall separate me from the love of God, which is in Thee? Shall tribulation, or distress, or famine? I am held fast as though by nails, and fettered by the bonds of charity. Remove from me, O Lord Jesus, with Thy potent sword, the corruption of my sins. Secure me in the bonds of Thy love; cut away what is corrupt in me. Come quickly and make an end of my many, my hidden and secret afflictions. Open the wound lest the evil humor spread. With Thy new washing, cleanse in me all that is stained. Hear me, you earthly men, who in your sins bring forth drunken thoughts: I have found a Physician. He dwells in Heaven and distributes His healing on earth. He alone can heal my pains Who Himself has none. He alone Who knows what is hidden can take away the grief of my heart, the fear of my soul: Jesus Christ. Christ is grace! Christ is life! Christ is Resurrection! Amen.

[follow-up-news]

Two Georgia election workers have reached a settlement in their defamation lawsuit against a Missouri-based conservative website that falsely accused them of fraud in the 2020 presidential election, according to a court filing earlier this week. The lawsuit against The Gateway Pundit, its owner Jim Hoft and his brother Joe Hoft “has been resolved to the mutual satisfaction of the parties through a fair and reasonable settlement,” lawyers for Ruby Freeman and Wandrea “Shaye” Moss said Friday. Monday’s filing in St. Louis City Circuit Court didn’t give any terms of the settlement, but said actions under the agreement are supposed to be completed by March 29. Both sides asked a judge to postpone the case until then, when they expect to request a dismissal. Lawyers for Hoft did not immediately respond to an email seeking comment. Nearly 70 articles cited as defamatory in the lawsuit were no longer available Friday on The Gateway Pundit website, The Associated Press found. The company that owns The Gateway Pundit filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy reorganization, but a judge dismissed the case in July, finding the company was solvent and had filed the suit in bad faith in an effort to frustrate the lawsuit by Freeman and Moss.

[beakyspecialpics]

W. C. Runder. Workers in the Civil Courts Building in St. Louis, Missouri, 1928.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

George Chidi at The Guardian:

Atlanta is, from time to time, the center of the political universe. It is also home to all things evil and villainous, a festering cesspool of lurid crime, a “shooting gallery” in the words of Donald Trump, spoken in the vile confines of a brand new college basketball arena amid the unspeakable horrors of a rapidly gentrifying neighborhood with a microbrewery. Conservatives stoking fear of big cities would be a joke, if not for the damage it does. In May, the FBI arrested Mark Adams Prieto, a 58-year-old gun show dealer from Prescott, Arizona, on firearms trafficking charges. Prieto had been on the way to Atlanta at the time, according to court documents, because he planned to kill as many Black people as he could at a Bad Bunny concert while planting Confederate flags and shouting white power slogans, to provoke a race war ahead of the 2024 election.

“The reason I say Atlanta,” Prieto allegedly told an informant working with the FBI, “Why, why is Georgia such a fucked-up state now? When I was a kid that was one of the most conservative states in the country. Why is it not now? Because as the crime got worse in LA, St Louis and all these other cities, all the n****** moved out of those [places] and moved to Atlanta.” Prieto is a product of decades of Republican fearmongering, not just about Atlanta, but about big cities across the country. This is the message that Tucker Carlson and other conservative pundits have been pushing for years about San Francisco, New York and Detroit – it’s exactly the same way conservatives amped up their rhetorical combat on Chicago in the wake of Barack Obama’s ascension to the White House 16 years ago. It’s not because of crime. Cities in every country have long had more crime than their suburban counterparts, simply because it’s easier to commit a crime in a city, and it has largely trended downward. It’s because Democrats – often Black Democrats – control most big city governments, and they help national politicians win. Joe Biden won 85% of San Francisco’s votes in 2020. He also won 83% of Chicago, 77% of Los Angeles and 76% of New York City.

As a result, conservative state governments are cauterizing upstart municipalities, burning any pretense of respect for small-D democracy at the local level in the process. They fear those blue dots will bleed enough Black political power into red states to turn them purple and cost them the White House, not just in 2024, but permanently. Race is at the center of the fear. “Any mayor, county judge that was dumb-ass enough to come meet with me, I told them with great clarity, my goal is for this to be the worst session in the history of the legislature for cities and counties.” That’s former Texas House speaker Dennis Bonnen, in a conversation recorded with another legislator leaked to the Texas Tribune in 2019. In response to Austin legislation requiring water breaks for construction workers in the punishing Texas heat, the Republican-controlled legislature in 2023 passed what progressives call the “Death Star” bill. The law in effect ends the practice of home rule in Texas governments – a legal principle enshrined in the Texas constitution and that of many states – giving cities broad autonomy to create local laws, as long as those laws do not conflict with state or federal law.

House Bill 2127 takes that power away from cities in a swath of policy areas, from managing climate change to labor law. The law is in legal limbo today. But the damage is already being done to municipal leaders, who are frozen in place waiting for the case to be resolved. This story is playing out across the country, with red state governments seeing big blue cities as launching places for progressive ideas. In the wake of the deadly police beating of Tyre Nichols in Memphis, the city government created a police review board. Tennessee’s conservative legislature promptly passed a law banning such boards. Nashville’s response to the Covenant school shooting led to protesters in and outside the state capitol. The legislature responded with an attempt to cut Nashville’s elected metro council in half and threatened takeovers of the city’s sports and airport authority boards. Florida has blocked its cities from passing LGBTQ+ nondiscrimination ordinances, from regulating pit bulls, from making socially conscious investments, and from passing local zoning laws around “missing middle” housing and building construction. Florida’s famous “don’t say gay” bill mandates local school boards to provide politically vetted instructional materials.

[...]

Why would Trump trash a city like Milwaukee – or Atlanta, for that matter – in a swing state in an election year? Because those cities cost him those states in 2020. On the podium on a fateful 6 January 2021, speaking to a group of supporters who would eventually become a riot storming the Capitol, Trump intoned a litany of grievances with no regard for evidence and repeating debunked claims from these cities. Trump said Fulton county in Georgia was “corrupt” and had stuffed machines with fake votes. Detroit had “139%” turnout – a lie – after canvassers were “re-scanning batches of ballots over and over again” – another lie. The grievance lives on. When Trump was speaking in Atlanta’s Summerhill neighborhood in August, he described Atlanta as “like a killing field”, referencing a recent high-profile murder downtown. When Congressman John Lewis refused to attend Trump’s inauguration in 2017, Trump suggested by tweet that the city was “crime infested” and that Lewis “should spend more time on fixing and helping his district, which is in horrible shape and falling apart”.

Trump refused to observe Lewis’s death with dignity as a revered civil rights icon. He instead attacked Lewis’s legacy, telling a reporter he “couldn’t say one way or another” whether Lewis was worthy of praise, complaining again about being snubbed at the inauguration and musing about how the Civil Rights Act had “worked out” for Black voters. Atlantans have not forgotten these insults. Fulton and DeKalb counties – Atlanta’s core – delivered a net gain of about 140,000 votes for Biden in 2020. Overall turnout in Georgia increased by about 20% four years ago; in these counties, Democratic turnout increased by about 32%. Lewis’s name was on their lips as they stood in line to vote. The Trump campaign had been trying to coax Black voters into their camp, with events like the launch of his Black voter coalition group at a historically Black church in Detroit in June. Even then, in an audience packed with almost exclusively white supporters, he once again railed against cities and crime. “Look, the crime is most rampant right here and in African American communities,” Trump said at 180 Church in Detroit. “More people see me and they say, ‘Sir, we want protection. We want police to protect us. We don’t want to get robbed and mugged and beat up or killed.’” Between the rise of Kamala Harris after Biden’s withdrawal and the pratfall of comments about “Black jobs”, in front of a group of Black journalists, Trump has begun abandoning the pretense of cross-racial outreach in favor of railing against “sanctuary cities”. Over the last few weeks, he has made a tour of sundown towns – communities that would terrorize Black people caught within the city limits after sundown – on the campaign trail.

Why are Republicans stoking fears of big cities, especially big cities in red states? It’s because those cities are Black-majority and are heavily Democratic.