#Illegal sand mining

[carolinemillerbooks]

New Post has been published on Books by Caroline Miller

New Post has been published on https://www.booksbycarolinemiller.com/musings/happy-90th-gloria/

Happy 90th Gloria!

A writer near my age admitted on Facebook that though she loved the feel of paper between her fingers and the smell of a new book, she’d shifted to an e-reader. No longer comfortable with small print, she needed an electronic device to adjust for size.    Much in life is a tradeoff.  The earth has a polar wobble, which is natural, but growing more pronounced because humans are pulling quantities of water from the aquifer. Global construction is at an all-time high. That makes sand, a key ingredient in cement, a valuable commodity. The scarcer it becomes, the more illegal mining grows.  Today,  quarrying sand is a $200 billion to $300 billion industry, making it more valuable than gold, logging, and fishing combined. Developments in technology may ameliorate some of these challenges. Reading devices that adjust print size is an example.  Sometimes, though, the remedy poses new problems. Think of all those passwords we need to maintain our internet accounts.     A woman In my late 80s, I’d like to see the world slow down. Is there technology for that?  In his book, Successful Aging, Daniel J. Levitin warns that clinging to the past isn’t good for human health.  Old folks should keep looking forward. That’s easy for him to say.  He’s not at the end of the line trying to keep up. On the plus side, Levitin writes that old folks have an edge over the young. Wisdom enables them to make good decisions. They’ve lived long enough to discern patterns in nature and human behavior.  A newborn may cry, terrified by its first glimpse of the sun, but adults head for the beach hoping for enough sand to throw down a towel.   Lacking experience, young people’s judgments are prone to err. Many, for example, criticize Joe Biden’s slow response to the tragedy unfolding in Gaza.  As the head of a powerful country, they presume he has levers to pull to affect change. Yet not since Teddy Roosevelt’s interventions in Latin America during the 1900s has an American President imagined he could interfere with another nation’s sovereignty and escape paying a political price–the incursions being short-lived or ending in failure. The heady era of being a dominant player among weaker countries is history. Today, democratic nations exercise diplomacy rather than brute force.  Biden has an edge on that score.  He knows the world players, the genesis of foreign quarrels, and the cards each country’s leader is likely to hold.  True, he hasn’t sold Benjamin Netanyahu on a two-state solution for Israel and Palestine. But Netanyahu isn’t thinking about the future. An unpopular figure in his country, he clings to power because of the war, holding fast to it the way a man lost at sea clings to an ice float even though it’s melting.  Youth may see Biden’s politics in the current conflict as uncaring, but their viewpoint may be too simple.  The suffering in Gaza is unconscionable, agreed. But, so far, Biden has kept our alliances intact in the Middle East; held Iran at bay; secured world trade by monitoring the Suez Canal, and made talks about a two-state solution credible. Not bad for a man forced to dance with wolves. In a bad world, only a fool looks for rainbows.  Hal Brands in an edition of Foreign Affairs argues that given the current morality,  “…the only way to protect a world fit for freedom is to court impure partners and engage in impure acts.” (“The Age of Amorality,” by Hal Brands, Foreign Affairs March/April, pg. 106.) Brands’ advice may be repugnant to young minds and old ones as well, but the difference between youth and age is that the latter is more pragmatic.  Older people know that facing reality doesn’t mean giving up ideals.  It means they may see taking a step backward as a prelude to moving forward.  Nothing I’ve written diminishes the contributions young people make in the world.  Innovation flows from their plastic brains the way stars burst from a supernova.  I doubt an 80-something could have invented Bitcoin. Because our complex problems require complex responses, neither youth nor age should be banished from the stage.  We achieve more when we make room for each other.   Gloria Steinem turns 90 this month.  After the loss of Roe v. Wade, she hasn’t given up on women’s rights.  When a fan asked if she was planning to toss her torch to someone else, her reply was unequivocal.  “I’m holding on to my torch. I’ll let other people light theirs from mine.”  (Successful Aging, by Daniel J. Levitin, Random House, 2020, (large print edition by Penguin) pg. 662.)  Happy Birthday, Gloria!

[vincentblackbearmediallc]

Illegal sand mining is a growing global concern, as the demand for sand increases exponentially and threatens our already fragile ecosystems. Sand is used in a variety of ways, from concrete to glass production, and has become an increasingly valuable resource.As the demand for sand continues to increase, so does illegal activity surrounding it. Unregulated extraction of sand from rivers, beaches, wetlands and other sources can cause serious environmental degradation. This is especially true in countries where environmental regulations are lax or poorly enforced.

[wikipediapictures]

Sand theft

[townpostin]

Jamshedpur Intensifies Fight Against Illegal Mining

New Task Force to Enforce Stricter Regulations and Conduct Regular Raids District officials launch comprehensive strategy to combat unauthorized mining activities, protect revenue, and ensure environmental compliance. JAMSHEDPUR – A newly established task force has been established by local authorities to implement a comprehensive campaign to prevent illegal mining operations and enforce…

[bihar-ujala]

Bihta Sand Mining: अवैध बालू खनन पर बीजेपी MLC का करीबी गिरफ्तार, कैश- लैपटॉप और मोबाइल बरामद

Bihta Sand Mining: अवैध बालू खनन पर बिहटा में पुलिस की बहुत बड़ी कार्रवाई हुई है, जहां भाजपा नेता अजय कुमार उर्फ छोटू यादव के ठिकाने पर पुलिस ने रेड मारी है, जहां पुलिस को ढाई लाख रुपए कैश के साथ-साथ पैसे गिनने की मशीन, 43 पीस नकली बालू का चलान, दो लैपटॉप, एक प्रिंटर और मोबाइल फोन बरामद हुआ है. इसके बाद अजय कुमार बालू का अवैध चालान बनाते हुए गिरफ्तार हुआ. इतना ही नहीं पुलिस आगे की भी कार्रवाई कर…

[nsebullcom]

sand mining: 'Illegal' sand mining probe: Madras HC stays ED's summons to TN officials

Chennai: The Madras High Court on Tuesday stayed the operation of the summons issued to five district collectors by the Enforcement Directorate in connection with its probe under the Prevention of Money Laundering Act into alleged illegal sand mining in the state. A division bench comprising Justices S S Sundar and Sundar Mohan granted the interim stay on the petition filed by state public…

[simply-ivanka]

I hate defending any Politician but here’s some facts.

I spent time in Haiti with a medical team in the jungle. To get to the jungle you drive through towns. They point out how much Americans are hated , graffiti everywhere wishing death to our President and people. I had to pitch many items of clothing because I had flags and our colors . I was told I would not be safe wearing them, I had to remove my cross because it was a sign common to the voodoo.

I watched Haitian eat raw birds right out of the nest. When I inquired I was told “yes they eat animals they see no value in cats dogs moles etc. 🤮. I chased a chicken one day being funny because I live to eat chicken and we didn’t get any in Haiti. Chickens are valuable there due to their eggs.

Haiti did not send their finest here as illegal immigrants they sent from their prisons ( they hate us remember).

What benefits would there possibly be to make up a lie that these animals are being eaten. NONE!

It’s a culture. Pull your heads out of the sand and realize we now have cultures of all types there is good and bad in all cultures.

Ohio Troopers have been sent to Springfield Ohio along with $2.5 million because $15000-$20000 Haitians have been sent there .

I’d go back to Haiti in a hot minute to serve I loved those in the jungle. Those on the outside live as they wish , urinating and deficating on the street in the open. Culture doesn’t change just because they entered America illegally and if you had an honest bone in your body if $15000-20000 illegals were brought to your town using up your resources and you no longer had them available to aide your needs you wouldn’t be making fun and laughing. Live it understand it or shut up.

I said it , I’m done with stupidity and taking a break from both sides. Trump is not my favorite but to see people praise Harris who helped make this mess and thinks it’s a joke makes my skin crawl.

I’m in the community I know what’s happening sitting at home playing “I’m so woke “ and you know nothing outside your capsule of safety.

Did you know , Mahoning County is #1 in child trafficking. Mainly because the parents sell their kids for sex for cash to buy drugs.

Franklin County #4 with the highest rate due to immigrants selling children for sex and labor.

Cleveland and many other cities just refuse to report as required.

These FACTS were right out of the mouth of the head of human trafficking to my class.

Love people but don’t be stupid.

This is from a friend of mine. - Connie Our Country is in trouble and you make jokes.

I was woke as a child in my parents home we didn’t boast nor post, we lived it period .

The new woke creates division and hate , you spit on Christians and make up in your heads who they are and what they feel or believe while boasting of your so called love of all , you say you love all people but if they dare see things differently you spew hate. Some of you laughed and posted disgusting memes after an assassination attempt are you kidding a man died , shame on you . turning a blind eye to what others suffer out of your site. It’s not if this stuff will hit your community it’s when.

Vote for who you want, we have little to choose from in the mean time be adults, your kids / grandkids are watching and listening. You bully they will bully, you judge they will judge.

Realize the news is no longer independent nor are the so called fact checkers. Politicians are corrupt . Your opinion is an opinion nothing more . Care about your country both sides.

[viperwhispered]

If you're still thinking of making a playlist, feel free to add "Be Mine" by Ofenbach and "Kick up Your Heels" by Jessica Mauboy ft.Pitbull.

Context: During the early 20th century, alcohol was prohibited in the United States. This lead to uncontrolled secret distribution of alcohol and secret bars everywhere (fun fact: it was alcohol dealing that made Al Capone so powerful). The most iconic of these bars were speakeasies: secret illegal clubs that sold good alcohol while playing jazz (fun fact: these bars went a long way to pushing gender and racial equality by having everyone being able to dance & drink together).

Which brings me to this scenario: Jamil sneaking out of weekends to dance the night away and enjoy precious moments of freedom without Kalim. During these escapades, he meets the reader and the two get closer of months of several encounters. At some point they meet outside of the bar, but they pretend to be aquaintances at most. They get so into each other that they start subtly flirting even outside the bar.

Eventually we get to the moment that ecompases the songs (Be Mine is Jamil's perspective and Kick up Your Heels is the reader's). After weeks of subtle flirting, the two are finally tipsy enough to flirt more openly. Jamil goes in first and the reader playfully flirts back. They dance the night away and end up leaving together back to reader's apartment (don't worry Jamil has the weekend off and Najma owes him so she'll cover for him).

Cue adorable morning after with kisses, cuddles, Jamil making breakfeat, and the reader wearing his clothes.

(Boy if the music video for the Ofenbach song doesn’t look like it was made for total wish fulfillment for the artists, lol. Song's a total banger, tho (after listening to it a lot while working on this).)

I’m also gonna add Shut Up and Dance by Walk The Moon to the list because the vibes totally fit (and I’ve definitely thought of it in regards to Jamil before).

I do love the idea of reader meeting Jamil in an environment where he can be more free. Just, how different of an experience is it, when the dance floor is your first impression of him, rather than the Jamil at NRC or the Asim estate? When he’s actually letting go, being himself and just having a good time.

Plus like, presumably in the Scalding Sands Jamil’s job is not so 24/7 anyway, since there’s other servants around too to look after Kalim. So yay for actual free time.

And because I totally vibe with this & have thought of something similar before, I wanted to turn this into a bit of fic.

Post-NRC, Jamil x reader, written with a fem reader in mind, nsfw

The club, 22:30

You surveyed the club, your eyes insisting on looking for one person in particular, but to no avail.

No matter. Whether or not your favorite dance partner - or your acquaintance, or your crush, or whatever the hell he was to you - would turn up tonight, you could still have fun.

So, when a good song came on, you slid to the dancefloor, determined to dance the night away one way or another. You still had the whole night ahead of you, after all.

Not that you would have minded the company.

The club, 23:12

While you were queueing up for a drink, Jamil was the one who found you.

“I was wondering if you’d turn up,” you said with a grin, leaning closer to be heard over the music.

“And miss you? No way.”

You laughed and shook your head. It really was unfortunate how attractive that cocky grin was on Jamil.

“Wouldn’t have been the first night I’ve had to make do without you,” you said lightly.

“Well, tonight I can be all yours,” Jamil replied, his hand ghosting at the small of your back.

You grinned - you had to admit, you quite liked the sound of that.

The club, 23:27

Over the past few months there had been times when you caught Jamil looking at you as if he was evaluating you, measuring you. Yet, whenever he actually got close to you, that was all gone, replaced by pleasantries and barely concealed playfulness.

Today, however, there was a particular determination to him, one that had him shamelessly inching closer to you as you were talking over your drinks - as much as one could have a meaningful conversation talking over the thudding music.

“You look like you’ve got something on your mind,” you said, looking at Jamil from under your lashes while you sipped your drink.

“Well… I’ve been thinking that I wouldn’t mind sharing more than a dance with you,” Jamil said, his own drink nearly forgotten in his hands.

“Oh? What are you thinking?” you asked, stirring the remains of your drink with your straw, trying to affect a casual air despite your curiosity.

Jamil got close enough that you thought you could feel his breath on your skin.

“That I want to get to know you much better,” Jamil replied, an unmistakable sultry undercurrent to his tone. His hand had found its way to your arm, tracing light patterns on your skin.

Your eyes widened, a surprised laugh bubbling to your lips. My, what had gotten Jamil so bold tonight?

“Oh, and here I was just looking forward to some dancing,” you said with a playful grin.

Jamil might have gotten your heart to flutter, an unmistakable heat rising to your cheeks, but that didn’t mean you’d be that easily charmed.

“Just be prepared that once I get hold of you, I might not let go,” he said, lightly squeezing your arm.

“Dance with me, and then we’ll see,” you said with an amused shake of your head.

“Let’s start the show, then.”

With a laugh you grabbed Jamil’s hand, dragging him to the dancefloor, the beating of your heart rivaling the thud of the music.

There was such confidence to him, like Jamil had already ensured he’d get what he wanted and was just biding his time.

And you had to admit, you kinda liked it.

The club, 23:51

The song was one of your favorites and you couldn’t help singing along, moving your body to the beat. People were trickling in, but there was still space for both you and Jamil to let loose.

It was its own kind of delight, seeing how well you two could synchronize your movements. Stepping back and forth, circling each other, claiming a part of the dance floor all to yourselves. You grinned, watching the way Jamil leaned to the side, shrugging his shoulder, and you copied the move to the other direction, adding your own flourish with the snap of your hips.

After a few repeats there was a stutter in the music and you leaned forward, Jamil coming in to meet you, chest to chest. You lingered there for the briefest moment, your eye meeting, noses nearly brushing, before you pulled back and threw your hands up in the air for the chorus. You sang out the lyrics, let your body move as it wished, full-heartedly just enjoying yourself - and your company.

Sure, there was a part of you curious to find out just what Jamil could offer. But you’d come out here to have fun, and have fun you would.

Whatever would come later, would come later.

The club, 01:25

You were sweaty, your feet sore, your hair undoubtedly a mess at this point. Yet, you couldn’t stop smiling, couldn’t stop relishing your time with Jamil.

Jamil’s hands were on your hips, following your movements, his chest flush to your back.

You had to admit, you loved the feeling of his body against yours, the way you swayed together. 

You also delighted in teasing him like this, feeling the hardness of his arousal when you ground your ass on him.

“I want you to be mine,” Jamil mouthed the lyrics of the song, his breath hot by your ear.

He brushed his lips by your skin, something akin to a kiss, and you could feel the warmth of it shoot straight to your core.

Idly, you wondered if Jamil would be able to hear your soft groan over the music as you leaned back, your hand fumbling in his hair to pull him even closer. That seemed to be all the encouragement he needed, his mouth now more insistent on the corner of your jaw.

At this point, it was getting harder and harder to remember all the other people around you, your decency slipping from your hands.

Oh, you had a good enough idea of how Jamil’s body fit against you, how it felt under your hands.

But it was not enough.

You wanted to see Jamil, every bit that was hidden under those clothes, wanted to pull his hair loose - or just pull it in general. Wanted to see how he’d look beneath you, above you, between your legs…

Just the thought of Jamil unraveling with you had warmth pooling in the pit of your stomach.

And the thought of his touch on you, unobstructed…

He really was such a temptation, one that you might not even want to resist at this point.

Your apartment, 01:44

You were not prepared for the hungry way Jamil devoured your lips, how firmly his hands pulled you flush against him.

Or the way he groaned into your mouth, the sound shooting straight to your core.

Oh, you needed more of that. Much more of that.

Your hands shot up, gripping onto him tightly, just as unwilling to let him go. You sought out that hair tie that had been taunting you all evening, your tongue sloppily meeting Jamil’s as you pressed yourself as close to him as you possibly could.

There were so many places you wanted to touch, so many spots you wanted to unveil, your hands racing all over Jamil in a desperate attempt to fulfill all your desires at once.

Jamil’s lips were so wonderfully kiss-swollen, his hair hanging loose and his shirt halfway off him. If you hadn’t been so eager for more, you would’ve stopped to admire the sight and commit it to memory.

Instead, your greedy hands slipped under his top, relishing in the skin to skin contact while Jamil was busy with getting you to a similar state of undress, his eyes burning as his lips descended upon you again, stealing your breath away.

Your apartment, 2:20

You rolled your hips, slowly, your palms resting on Jamil’s chest. He did indeed look absolutely ravishing beneath you, his tongue slightly sticking out through his parted lips, his gorgeous hair spilled over your pillows. Jamil’s hands on your ass were helping you move, urging you to take his cock even deeper.

You’d yield to him soon enough, but first you wanted to savor this. The hungry look Jamil bestowed upon you, the needy way his hands kept on mapping your body, the way his hips bucked beneath you.

At this point, simply calling Jamil your favorite dance partner certainly didn’t do him justice.

No, you’d love to have so much more of him, wanted to find out just how far you two could go.

You leaned down, your lips meeting once again. You braced your arms against the bed as you began to move in earnest. Your efforts were rewarded by Jamil’s needy groan, the way his grip tightened on you. He seemed to be just as drunk on you as you were on him, and just that fact was enough to make your head spin.

Your apartment, 9:40

It was a slow realization, remembering that you had company over, only to find the other side of your bed empty. However, as your senses slowly roused, you soon caught the sounds and smells coming from the kitchen.

Of course he had to be perfect enough to even cook for you, you mused with some amusement.

With a stretch you willed yourself to leave the comfort of your bed, freshening yourself up quickly before padding your way to the kitchen.

You kind of hoped you’d been the one to wake up first. At least you could’ve cleared some of the mess.

It was such a domestic sight, Jamil busying himself at your stove, and you unexpectedly felt your throat tighten with the impact of it.

“I’m amazed you found something to work with,” you said, your words somewhere between apologetic and joking.

“It’s not how I’d keep my own kitchen, but it’s workable,” Jamil said matter-of-factly.

You couldn’t help a snort. What a way to sugarcoat your messy counters and sparse cupboards.

“Well. I’m glad it didn’t drive you off, at least,” you said with dry amusement.

You walked past Jamil to the sink, letting your fingers trace along his back and upper arm as you passed him by, conscious of not bothering his work.

Jamil, however, grabbed you by the waist and pulled you close, making you yelp in surprise.

“Good morning,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple.

All you could do was melt against him.

Bonus scene which didn’t really seem to fit the flow but I had to do something with these lyrics, too. A flashback to another night, maybe?

Jamil certainly knew how to move. Yet, there was still something carefully controlled about him.

You’d seen him, sometimes, when the night was late, how he really could let go and get swept up in the music.

Then again, you supposed you still hadn’t quite warmed up yourself, hadn’t forgotten about the way his eyes were on you.

Would another drink be a terrible idea?

Still, seeing the way Jamil was looking around, checking the crowds, made you frown. You tugged on his hand, turning his attention back on you.

"Oh, don't you dare look back. Just keep your eyes on me."

“You’re holding back, yourself,” Jamil said with a knowing look.

“Shut up and dance with me,” you said, smiling even as you rolled your eyes. 

Ngl, I’ve not done much song fics and it was fun weaving in bits of the lyrics and vibes in here - even if I chose to be a silly goose and use 3 songs at once.

Tag list: @colliope @crystallizsch @diodellet @jamilsimpno69 @jamilvapologist

@perilous-pasta @twstgo

Do let me know if you'd like to be tagged for my future works!

[theengineerspost]

10 Different Types of Trucks and Their Uses

1. Tipper Truck:

A tipper truck, or dump truck, has an open-box bed hinged at the rear, capable of tipping to unload materials like sand, gravel, or debris. It's widely used in construction and mining.

2. Mini Truck:

Mini trucks are small, lightweight vehicles that transport goods over short distances. They are economical and commonly used for intra-city deliveries and light-duty applications.

3. Concrete Truck:

Also known as a cement mixer, this truck has a rotating drum to mix and transport concrete to construction sites. By continuously turning during transit, it ensures the concrete remains usable.

4. Pickup Truck:

A pickup truck features an enclosed cabin, an open cargo area with low sides, and a tailgate. It's versatile for personal transport, light commercial deliveries, and towing.

5. Box Truck:

Also called a cube truck or van, a box truck has an enclosed cargo space separated from the cabin. It's ideal for moving goods, furniture, and appliances.

6. Tow Truck:

Tow trucks are designed to transport vehicles, often used for towing broken-down, damaged, or illegally parked vehicles. They may use flatbeds, hooks, or wheel-lift mechanisms.

7. Dump Truck:

Often synonymous with a tipper truck, dump trucks have a robust design for heavy-duty operations. They're used to transport and dump loose materials like soil or rubble.

8. Fire Truck:

Fire trucks are emergency vehicles equipped with firefighting apparatus, water pumps, hoses, and ladders. Some also carry rescue equipment for emergencies.

9. Garbage Truck:

Also known as a refuse truck, it collects and transports waste to disposal sites. Some models compact the garbage to maximize capacity.

10. Tanker Truck:

Tanker trucks have large cylindrical tanks to transport liquids such as fuel, chemicals, or water. They are vital for industries requiring bulk liquid transportation.

[tmnt-background-screenshots]

Asking a few people this! If the turtles weren't from New York, where would you like for them to live? What city or state or even country?

heheh =3

So little fact about me: I was born and raised in Nevada and was in my late teens before i moved to another state, so when I think about putting heroes or characters in a New Place, obviously I wanna put them in the good ol' irl Mad Max US state!

Every time they travel and meet a new villain or ally, everyone always asks "Oh, like Vegas?" and the turtles Can Not handle that question one more time because NOT EVERYONE LIVES IN VEGAS. In fact, they have never once been to Vegas. They have also never been to Burning Man. They HAVE been to Area 51 but only because Bishop captured them that one time.

There is no subway or spacious enough sewer system for them to live in, so they live in The Catacombs under the town.

Other mutants/yokai may be living in or under the abandoned silver mines.

They have to be careful going out, because Desert Dwellers can and will hunt them down if they see something weird out in the brush or sand dunes at night. Leo and Mikey like to mess with the farmers and play around in the abandoned houses and cars.

Fireworks are illegal, so obviously Donnie likes to figure out different ways to may them, and he probably sells them to local teenagers for money.

Raph has trained the local pigeon population to be his friends.

April drives her own car, because she can get away with driving without a license in a medium sized farming/mining town.

Splinter is more wary of humans, and he had a harder time raising the boys. But he did actually have a few friends over the years with the homeless population who did not care if he was a mutant.

I dunno, do you guys want this to be a full au? Because I'll totally do it. Direct any asks or interest on it to my main blog @midwinterhunt

[rjzimmerman]

Excerpt from this story from Nation of Change:

On December 3, 2019, the Pacific island state of Vanuatu made an audacious proposal: Make ecocide—the destruction of nature—an international crime. “An amendment of the Rome Statute could criminalize acts that amount to Ecocide,” stated Ambassador of Vanuatu John Licht at the International Criminal Court’s (ICC) annual Assembly of States Parties in the Hague. He was speaking on behalf of his government at the assembly’s full plenary session. “We believe this radical idea merits serious discussion.”

Since then, the idea has become less radical: Amid the intensifying global climate emergency, interest has been mounting among nations and diverse stakeholders—spanning international bodies, grassroots organizations, and businesses—that ecocide be formally recognized as an international crime, joining the ranks of genocide, crimes against humanity, war crimes, and crimes of aggression, which are the four core international crimes established by the Rome Statute of the ICC. These crimes are not subject to any statute of limitations.

Environmental activists are pushing to elevate the concept of ecocide—literally, the “killing of the ecosystem”—as the fifth international crime to be adjudicated by the ICC. If it becomes a reality, those who commit environmental destruction could be liable to arrest, prosecution, and punishment—by a fine, imprisonment, or both.

The European Union, in February 2024, took a step in the direction of criminalizing cases that lead to environmental destruction and “voted in a new directive” that makes these crimes comparable to ecocide, according to Grist. “The new law holds people liable for environmental destruction if they acted with knowledge of the damage their actions would cause.” The article adds that environmental crime is the “fourth most lucrative illegal activity in the world, worth an estimated $258 billion annually,” according to Interpol, and is only growing with each passing year.

Ecocide proponents want laws being pushed across various international organizations and government agencies to cover the most egregious crimes against nature, which could ultimately include massive abuses to the living environment, such as oil spills, illegal deforestation, deep-sea mining, mountaintop removal mining, Arctic oil exploration and extraction, tar sand extraction, and factory farming. British barrister and environmental lobbyist Polly Higgins defined ecocide as “extensive damage… to such an extent that peaceful enjoyment by the inhabitants of that territory has been or will be severely diminished.”

[life-love-and-lotr]

I have seen some fantastic American Suiteheart headcannons and that inspired me to share mine on how they became a team.

Dr. Benzedrine was city-born and drug-resistant. He just didn't feel their mind-numbing effects. He was able to hide it for a long time, long enough to get a place at university to become a doctor. He got through the majority of his degree, spending his downtime in the slums helping the poor for free. One day, he let slip that he was planning on using the knowledge he gained to help killjoys in the desert, and BLI found out. That was when he was sent to the Vixens. The Vixens were a special branch of draculoids who dealt with drug-resistant citizens by using powerful mind control techniques to turn them into weapons. They made his trigger music and used him and his influence with the poor of the city to get rid of killjoys at illegal concerts. He was able to get his memories back after coming into contact with one of the people he helped.

That was Sandman. He was a juvie who lived in the slums of the city. He had insomnia from a young age and used a drug known to the juvies as sleep dust to help him get to sleep. This came with some really shitty side effects, including anxiety and mood swings that ended up making him isolated and alone. This went on for years and gave Sandman a horrible reputation for being cold and uncaring. One day, it all got too much, and in a leap of utter desperation, he went to a clinic Doctor Benzidrine was holding. He was able to get Sandman off the drugs and gave him better ways of sleeping. He also saw the loneliness and reached out a hand for companionship. Sandman knew something was up when Benzie stopped coming to visit and set off on a mission to get him back. He heard stories of a monster, one who was once a doctor, killing anyone who set foot in a live music venue and knew that it was his best friend in trouble. He got extremely good at fighting, and his specialty was fighting Vixens, who had an unfathomable strength from their mind control. This is what he used to get through to Benzidrine and get him out of their clutches. They made their way to an exit ready to leave the city but not before meeting Horseshoe Crab.

Horseshoe Crab was well known as a desert-born nuisance within the Battery City slums. He dressed obnoxiously in red and gold, a top hat perched on his head. He had a habit of coming in to cause mischief and then leaving before any draculoids could take him in. His incredible luck meant he never got captured and that inspired a wave of city-born children to become rebels in the city. He befriended a young boy who would come to be known as Fun Ghoul and helped his mother ferry city folk who wanted to escape out of the city. It was on one of these trips that he met Sandman and Benzidrine while they were running away and liked them instantly. They brought the real dangerous villains, the ones he could have fun killing. He got them out of the city with his insanely good luck, but not without getting a bad blaster shot to the shoulder. Luckily, a very capable doctor was close at hand and sorted it out in no time. He felt indebted to the pair after this and vowed to help them through the desert for as long as they needed. Which turned out to be for the rest of his life. He didn't mind because it turned out that these two city boys would become the family he never had.

It was around 6 months later when the trio met Donnie. They found him on the side of the road fixing up an old Trans Am for a young sand pup. He recognized Horseshoe from trips he would make to get supplies from the city, but was wary around the other two who were obviously city born. Horseshoe explained the situation to him and somehow persuaded him to become a member of the team. He was the only one with any knowledge of mechanics and could fix anything with ease. He learned to trust Benzie and Sandman when they got ambushed by some Vixens and fought together as a team for the first time

[erwinrer]

Mongolia's prostitution zones, where women trade sex for fuel in sub-zero temperatures

It’s nearing midnight in an unadorned bar on a backstreet off Sükhbaatar Square, and 31 year-old Minjuur rubs her hands to shake off the cold.

Speaking in a whisper, she explains her average evening. Men pick her up from the park by the Central Tower office building, then they go to a nearby hotel for an hour of sex.

Minjuur has a small scar on her right upper cheek that is visible despite her makeup, and she counts on her fingers the number of friends who have died in her line of work. It is minus 20 degrees Celsius tonight, and Minjuur has a chest-rattling cough. Vodka helps her ward off the chill. She says the winter is hard.

Mongolia’s capital presents grim working conditions for the city’s prostitutes. Ulaanbaatar is often overlooked as a centre of prostitution, but – despite increased activity in border areas – it remains the hub for the country’s sex work and sexual trafficking. But as the city’s prostitutes experience violence and social stigma, some are navigating riskier working environments beyond the city.  

“Most of these women working in this field are very poor and need cash,” said outreach officer Erdenesuren. “They are driven by necessity.” Erdenesuren – who like many Mongolians only uses one name – works for the NGO Perfect Ladies (In Mongolian: Tugs Busguichuud), which promotes prevention of sexually transmitted infections among prostitutes and helps them leave sex work.

Prostitution and human trafficking are illegal within Mongolia but the sex trade is growing. While some women solicit openly on the streets of the capital, others work discreetly out of karaoke bars, saunas and massage parlours. Mongolia is a source, transit and destination country for sex labour.

According to a 2014 report from the United Nations Institute for Training and Research, between 3,000 and 5,000 women and children are trafficked each year from rural communities into cities and beyond the nation’s borders.

Unicef estimates that roughly 19,000 sex workers are active in Mongolia, however, some field workers cite much higher numbers. The state’s population sits at around 3 million. While male prostitutes do exist, they are a small minority.

The rapid growth of the country’s mining sector over the last decade has created a workforce of isolated men, thereby spurring on the industry. Skirting the border with China, the southern Gobi Desert – where mineral mining projects run by Rio Tinto and other global operations are located – has become a new focal point for prostitution.

“In Ulaanbaatar there is violence (against prostitutes) – from families and from working people – but inside the mining area everyone comes for the same goal: making money, and they don’t judge one another,” said Sorbonne University Ethnology Professor Gaëlle Lacaze.

Amidst lines of trucks parked against a barren expanse of sand, a converted bus-turned-café is the only option for some tea and conversation. Enkhtaivan Baatar is biding time at Tavan Tolgoi – a coal deposit in Ömnögovi province within the Gobi Desert.

The 39-year-old truck driver in a black hoodie is waiting for his coal shipment so he can drive his cargo across the border. He has been doing this job for three years, and has seen many prostitutes. Cars filled with women pull up off the highway and, when the price is settled, join the drivers in the cab of their truck.

Baatar also describes a sign close to the border that advertises women for sale and lists a number to call if interested. “Wherever there is money and men they come,” he said.

Mongolia’s mining boom started in the early 2000s and mining now accounts for around 20 per cent of Mongolia’s gross domestic product. The growth in mining has created a spike in internal migration to mining areas – most notably Ömnögovi.

The country has a 0.03 per cent general prevalence rate of HIV among adults and, for Mongolians infected, treatment is free. As of 2017 data, however, only 32 per cent of people living with HIV knew their status.

“Mining industries are notorious hotspots for HIV infection,” said UNAIDS Regional Director for Asia and the Pacific Eamonn Murphy. “There is money around, and people are away from their homes and cultural, social and other inhibitors, and so they take risks that they wouldn’t normally.”

The coal route from the Tavan Tolgoi coal deposit to the Chinese border is synonymous with sex work fuelled by the mining industry. Despite being from the capital, 32 year-old Uka is intimately familiar with this stretch of transit. Uka has been earning a living as a sex worker in Mongolia for almost a decade.

The petite 32-year-old entered the industry to earn money after her daughter was born. She began in Ulaanbaatar, but now works along the border. Her clients –  truck drivers – sometimes don’t have cash, so they pay her in fuel. Uka would rather work for diesel then return to the conditions facing prostitutes in Ulaanbaatar.  

According to Uka, prostitutes in the capital face frequent violence from pimps and customers, but Ömnögovi is better. In contrast to the stigma felt in the city, she describes the border area as accepting and open. Uka explains that four or five women travel to the border area with a driver and rent a ger (a traditional round felted tent) to stay.

They need to travel in groups – it is dangerous to be a woman alone with so many truck drivers. Uka reaches up and adjusts an earring as she lists her rate: 50,000 MNT per act, with an hourly rate of 80,000 MNT and a daily rate of 200,000 MNT (roughly £14, £23 and £58). If the drivers don’t have cash, they pay in fuel: 40 or 50 litres of diesel for one act, 100 litres for one hour. The women then resell the fuel when they can for money.

Yet when Uka is soliciting in south Gobi, she is working without resources. “It’s risky there,” said Erdenesuren, of working near the Chinese border. “The ones who like to take risks go there.”

In Ulaanbaatar, there are STI awareness programmes and condom distribution, social workers like Erdenesuren try to check up on the women they know, but in the Gobi there is no such infrastructure. Uka explains how the women she works with buy contraceptives off one another when they run out, as there is no store to purchase more. Often customers don’t want to use them anyway.

Ulaanbaatar may offer prostitutes more contact with NGOs providing outreach, but it is a harsh environment for women working in the trade. Previously, Uka sold sex in a sauna in the capital where she alleges police and customers beat her. She claims ultra-nationalists target sex workers on the street and shave their heads to disgrace them. The Ulaanbaatar police did not respond to requests for comment on this story.Violence, drugs and sexual diseases | How de-regulating prostitution is failing women worldwide

In Mongolia, sex work is an occupation shrouded in shame and silence. Erdenesuren cites the cycle of humiliation and fear that keeps women from reaching out to the police and family: “It is better to have your bones broken, then your name dishonoured.”

Uka explains that people don’t openly talk about prostitution and why women end up in sex work. She left school after eighth grade and has few options to earn an income. “For some women, it is easier to open their legs than go to the factory,” said Lacaze, “because they have no diplomas. She is alone with children, she has to eat.”

Uka admits that her daughter has no idea how her mum earns an income. Her family believes she is a cook. In Ulaanbaatar, Minjuur tells her family that her nights are spent serving in a bar. Both women support multiple dependents with their earnings. “Nobody knows what they are doing, but everybody knows,” said Lacaze. “Everybody is complicit.”

The Nordic style house in the outskirts of Ulaanbaatar stands out against its surroundings, and its inhabitants are also trying to adapt. This is a safe house run by the Swedish anti-trafficking NGO Talita. It is privately funded with only four beds available.

Gaamaa occupies one of those beds. The tiny 22-year-old, in sweatpants and a t-shirt, looks like a university student relaxing between classes. She speaks softly. “If girls refuse to have sex, they abuse them and if they can’t change a girl, they sell her,” she said. “They call the trafficker and sell.”

Gaamaa has been bought and sold many times. In 2016, fleeing an abusive home, Gaamaa ended up at a sauna near the central railway station. There, in rooms with barred windows, she worked with four other women for a rate of 40,000 MNT for one hour and 60,000 MNT for two hours (roughly £11 and £17). Their madam supplied food and clothes, but never the money earned. The brothel sold her to another sauna when they found she was trying to escape, but not before she alleges being beaten as punishment and then raped by her attackers.

“Society think they [prostitutes] are garbage,” said Talita Mongolia founder and director Tserenchunt Byamba-Ochir. “There is no funding to protect victims, not one coin to protect victims of trafficking from the Mongolia government – they say we don’t have money for that.”

In 2017, the federal government cut funding to seven regional offices of Mongolia’s sole NGO designed to help sex workers – Perfect Ladies. Only three branches remain. Five women’s shelters operate, but four offer short term stays only. Talita’s Ulaanbaatar branch (the fifth shelter) is the sole long-term rehabilitation center for former prostitutes, and it is at capacity.Sex trafficking hot spot | Switzerland's disastrous prostitution laws

Eventually, Gaamaa was trafficked into China where she worked in multiple cities before a client helped her escape to the Mongolian embassy in Beijing. She arrived at Talita in late 2017.

Gaamaa used to shake as she talked about her experiences and she had nightmares. Now she wraps her arms around a stuffed bear and explains with a smile that she is looking into culinary college. But Gaamaa is also anxious about living in the capital, afraid that someone from her old life will recognise her.

Byamba-Ochir also has concerns. With many of the cases where Talita assists, the traffickers are not charged. Women feel intimidated and change their stories in court, or get pulled back into the trade. Gaamaa believes if she hadn’t been trafficked to China, she would still be a prostitute.

“Here in Mongolia they are not kind,” said Gaamaa. It’s really hard to escape here – it’s everywhere in Ulaanbaatar. It is very hard to escape Mongolia.” 

[thessalian]

Thess vs Viewpoints

I had my mother over for dinner. I probably shouldn't have, since I'm not exactly doing great at the moment, what with the work stress and the weather changes and the ... well, everything exacerbating the fibro, but I promised and Mum's not the type who likes people cancelling on her. I promised I would make meatloaf for her, and by the gods, I made meatloaf. I mean, it was very good meatloaf, I will say that.

However. There was an unfortunate period towards the end of the meal when, despite the fact that I didn't really want it to go there and I know I should have stopped it from going there (but stopping my mother when she's on one of her rants, especially with a few glasses of wine in her, is like trying to stop a freight train with a feather pillow), conversation went to politics.

Things my mother actually said in the course of the conversation:

"Oh, Trump won't actually do any of that; I think your friends are catastrophising."

"This all happened because they saw people getting too many handouts and got fed up with it."

"Well, some of Those People probably do eat cats and dogs; if they did it while they were in their own country and in their own culture, why wouldn't they, if they needed food?"

"The good ones are probably fine, but if they start with the criminals, I'm all for deporting illegal immigrants. And if a few of the good ones go with the bad, at least the bad ones are out."

"THEY SHOULD HAVE COME HERE LEGALLY, THEN!" (Because obviously someone would risk a life-threatening trip on a small boat with someone who might sell them into slavery when other options were available.)

When she got to the "Do you think that coming across the Channel in small boats is legal?" portion of the proceedings, I shut that shit down. I may have had a bit of a dig where I flagged up that I know we often both want to be right and that I have tried very hard to stop because, and I quote, "It's not very attractive". But I shut it down. Mostly by answering her question about whether crossing to the UK in small boats was legal with the fact that I don't know enough about the UK's set-up for accepting refugees to be able to give an answer to that question. So she went, "Okay, so you'll look it up and next time we speak, I'll ask you--"

I interrupted with, "And I still won't answer. I will not have this conversation."

She insists that I have to have these conversations so that I can "see other people's points of view". I see people's points of view every day. I probably see a greater cross-section of the world than she does because I actually see the people who are emboldened by anonymity and/or brainwashed by Fox News. I also see the people who aren't in relatively privileged positions in life. And frankly, I don't need the viewpoint of someone with their head in the sand and a somewhat more benign "fuck you; got mine" attitude than the rest of the ones with that mindset. I know that viewpoint. I see that too. I just don't agree with it, I won't argue with people arguing in bad faith, and most of all, I refuse to be given homework on a conversation I don't want to have in the first place.

Dinner ended on a moderately high note, for what it's worth. To be fair, wine probably helped on her side of things. As for me, I'm glad our Saturday D&D shenanigans got cancelled because I'm not any more up to it than at least one other member of the group. I'm exhausted, I hurt, I'm developing a migraine, and I worked so fucking hard for this dinner only to end up on the receiving end of my mother's bullshit politics. I prefer my stepfather's way of dealing with it, on the whole. He may say "The two-state solution will never work" and mean it, but he doesn't try to convince me that makes what's happening in Gaza any more right or moral. He knows I actually look at it on the level of the human cost - something my mother has never managed. Not even after yet again understanding that I work in medical secretarial specifically because it helps people.

When I was a kid, adults called my compassion a good thing. "You're going to change the world", they'd tell me. And now they tell me that the people I'd change the world for don't matter as much as the status quo. It's not a good thing to hear this week.

That said ... my mother may not like the label, but given some of the things she's been reading lately (and calling sexy), she's definitely leaning into the whole bi thing. I mean, we're talking bi like an N*SYNC song here.

[townpostin]

District Task Force Intensifies Crackdown on Illegal Mining in Jamshedpur

Officials ordered to conduct joint operations against unauthorized mineral extraction and transport Deputy Commissioner calls for immediate action to curb unlawful activities across East Singhbhum. JAMSHEDPUR – District Magistrate and Deputy Commissioner Ananya Mittal chaired a crucial meeting of the District Mining Task Force at the Collectorate, issuing directives for a comprehensive crackdown…

[professor-amaryllis]

[A video file is embedded. The clip starts on a beach of some sort of island. Large, jagged pieces of rock jut up out of the sand here and there. It seems the camera is set up on a stand of some kind as Amy can be seen investigating some of the large rocks and looking up to the right of the camera every so often. He sports a t shirt that says 'I eat Asbestos' and a pair of teal cowboy boots, and seems to have abandoned his cane for the moment, as it sticks straight upright out if the sand to the left of the screen.

After a few moments he seems to find what he's looking for, and from the base of one of the stones he clears away some of the sand and pries something free before walking back to the camera. He presents the items close to the screen, a small variety of rough natural crystals in varying shades or red, blue and yellow. He explains, excitedly, that the Thriving population of Sableye on Sky island was in part due to the incredibly rich corundum deposits here, offering more than enough gems for the mineral loving ghost types to be able to sustain a good population on the relatively small island.

He goes on to explain how mining or collecting these gems is highly illegal on this island, in an effort to protect the relatively rare species, as well as this genetically distinct population. As he rambles about the efforts of the Hoenn Wildlife Trust to protect the pokemon on this island more and more glimmering, gem like eyes can be seen peeking out from cracks and crevices in the rocks and cave entrances behind him. Maxx the Mareep wanders on screen behind Amy, eyeing the pokemon watching as a couple of the Sableye poke their heads out of their hiding spots to get a better look.

Maxx bleats a warning, but before Amy has a chance to turn around every one of the Sableye have disappeared back into the darkness. He looks back a few moments, looking around and back down at Maxx before chuckling at the pokemon's irritated huff. They seem to decide that the footage they have is enough, and walk back over to the camera, the view swinging wildly as he picks it up to turn it off.]