#MOST OF THEM GET SENT TO THE SAME PRIVATE PRISON TO SERVE THEIR SENTENCES | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

whitetigerdemoness · 5 years

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The epilogue! Just wrapping some loose ends up.

A fox will tell you a thousand lies without once saying anything that isn't true.

Master Post of All Chapters

“Today the most sensational trial of the decade concluded with a guilty plea from Gabriel Agreste, better known to most as Hawkmoth. Mr. Agreste has been sentenced to serve only ten years of prison time, a most controversial decision. One month ago his final akuma rampage killed no less than forty one people, this reporter included. By only one deciding vote the jury has decided ‘not guilty’ to the accusations as thanks to Ladybug no permanent damage was found to be done. Additional charges included-”

Nathaniel tapped the x in the corner of the video to close it and shut his eyes with a sigh. Nadia looked tense in the report, clearly not agreeing with the verdict, and he sympathized with her. That same sympathy was why the jury had voted the way they did. Mr. Agreste may have pleaded guilty, but he still had very good lawyers. They spun a thrilling tale of desperation and love, a man grieving his fallen wife (who had secretly been a superhero) and doing anything he could to revive her. The fact that Paon was now a public hero (the peacock miraculous being repaired) only helped matters for him. With Hawkmoth gone Paon was more of an everyday hero, using her sentimonsters to help with things such as construction and rescuing kittens from trees, but the city adored her. Knowing Mrs. Agreste personally Nathaniel knew she did it out of guilt for what Gabriel had done to the city to revive her.

Speaking of heroes he knew personally, Marinette had been lightly hinting that he and Marc should come out with her, Adrien, and Luka on a double date. Nathaniel supposed being the embodiment of a luck based superhero was good for something. Nathaniel was felt he was lucky just to have one boyfriend. A boyfriend he was currently hiding on the school roof to avoid. Not that there was a problem with Marc! No the problem was entirely with Nathaniel, or rather his memories. In his final moments, Reverser had attempted to use his powers to allow Nathaniel to keep his memories of his time as an akuma. Due to the miraculous cure it had half worked. One moment he could be looking into Marc’s dazzling green eyes in the art room, and the next he would be looking into a different, otherworldly pair of green. His treacherous mind giving him flashes of warm lips and an even warmer body against his own. He was sixteen, male, and not at all equipped to deal with sudden feelings bowling him over out of nowhere.

So he did what any boy his age would do in that situation and ran away to hide on the roof in hopes that the cold air would help those ‘feelings’ go away. Why did his akuma self have to be so-so...bold! Penknight might have been able to just kiss his boyfriend whenever and wherever he wanted, but Nathaniel sometimes worried his heart was going to explode just holding hands. Sure, he was a little more confident in private, but a sudden urge to heavily makeout in the middle of a public space? Not possible.

“Nath?” Marc popped his head around the corner. The sound Nathaniel made was not manly. The bastard had the nerve to laugh at him. Face burning, Nathaniel scooted back to where he had been sitting before Marc decided to jump-scare him halfway across the roof. Said boy sat down next to him, their shoulders touching.

“It happened again, didn’t it?” Marc asked, resting his head on his knees. “Judging from the look on your face before you ran I’d say it was a pleasant memory.” He teased.

“It um,” Nathaniel coughed to try and prevent his throat from closing up, “It was.” They both blushed and looked away from each other.

“...You know,” Marc began “One of these days you’re going to have to actually give me more details about what you keep seeing other than ‘hrk’ ‘gack’ ‘hnnng!’ and changing the subject. I mean, with how red your face goes I can guess, but it would be nice to have it confirmed if I still have my virginity or not.” ‘Hrk’, ‘gack’, and ‘hnnng!’, plus more were included in the intelligent reply Nathaniel tried to stammer out. His only consolation was Marc looked just as embarrassed.

“We-” The redhead started, then took a deep breath for strength. “We didn’t go...that far. Hawkmoth was...watching.” Nathaniel left out the part where the villain had been gone for several hours, leaving the two to their own devices. He was in the area of 90% sure they hadn’t gone farther than making out, and fervently hoped he was right. If just remembering kissing sent him into fits, he would probably die if he suddenly recalled...other things. Time to change the subject.

“So um, you usually don’t come after me when I get overwhelmed from remembering stuff. What are you up here hiding from?” Marc had offered, when the flashbacks first started, but Nathaniel needed the time alone to sort out what he was feeling, after.

“Berger and his cronies are here.” Ugh, that man.

“They really don’t seem to care about those restraining orders, do they?” Nathaniel sighed. “Who are they after today, Adrien, Lila, or us?” While Adrien still roamed the city as Chatnoir, only a select few knew who was behind the mask. The Wah Wah were more interested in him as the son of Hawkmoth and Paon. The interviews and public admissions to her identity the first time she had become Volpina had really come back around to bite Lila in the ass. She had been publicly declared innocent of any all and crimes committed while Volpina, as cured akumas were acknowledged to have no memory or control of their akuma actions, but the zealous Office of Akuma Affairs hounded her without mercy. Nathaniel had zero sympathy for her, as she had outed him and Marc as Penknight and Prism the first chance she got to try and take some pressure off her own skin. It didn’t work, and now all three of them had to deal with idiots stalking them.

“Anyone they can sink their claws in I guess. Principal Damocles was arguing with them by the entrance when Rose let me know they were here. I figured freezing my ass off up here with you was the better alternative than trying to sneak past them.” Marc grumbled, pulling his knees in tighter. Early March in Paris was not the best weather to be sitting around outside without a coat in. Nathaniel hesitantly put an arm around him. Marc snuggled into his side with a sigh.

“Sorry, the roof seemed like a good idea at the time.” Nathaniel apologized. Marc didn’t reply, only scooting closer. “We could probably sneak into the library from here if you would like to go back inside?”

“Oh my god yes. If I stay out here any longer I’m going to be a popsicle.” Marc wasted no time jumping to his feet and pulling Nathaniel along with him. Letting himself be pulled along, Nathaniel smiled, grateful that this entire ordeal had ended on a happy note.

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“Thank you so much for letting me wait for Marinette! She’s been so helpful tutoring me.” Lila waved to Mr and Mrs Dupain-cheng, her smile fading as she climbed into Marinette’s room and out of sight. She didn’t know how it had happened, but after being cured she had lost her place as the class favorite to Marinette. She had tried every trick she could think of, saying that Nadia and Jagged had been forced by Penknight to claim not to know her. That Hawkmoth had manipulated her for his own ends. That she was just a poor victim in that awful fiasco, but nothing had worked. The class had neatly split down the middle between her supporters and Marinette’s. Heck, Nathaniel had been outright hostile to her.

She had used his animosity as an excuse to switch classes and while her new class was happy to give her the admiration she deserved, she could not, would not, accept that Marinette had beaten her. Glancing about the girl’s room she looked for anything she could use to incriminate her. To blackmail her. Hell, even to just plain HURT her. She picked up a ladybug bug shaped box on Marinette’s desk and looked for a way to open it. Figures the girl would be a Ladybug fan. Running her hands over the spots, she felt one give slightly. When she pressed again a compartment opened, revealing a silver and purple butterfly pin.

The compartment came all the way out and could be folded over into a small box. Much more convenient than taking the entire thing. Lila pocketed the first box and reached out to touch another spot, only to hear footsteps coming up the stairs. Hastily, she set the box back on the desk just in time for Marinette to appear.

“What are you doing here?” Marinette growled.

“Marinette! I came to apologize.” Lila turned up the charm. “This past month, in my new class, well some distance from the situation really made me realize how horribly I treated you and-” Marinette cut her off.

“I don’t believe any of that for a second.” She fumed. “What are you really doing here?”

“Marinette” Lila sighed. “Can’t we ever put all this passed us and be friends?” She smiled.

“Not until you prove you’ve actually changed. Sneaking into my room while I’m not here is a terrible start.”

“If we can’t have an honest conversation, I should just go…” Lila trailed off, schooling her expression into a remorseful one.

“Please do.” Marinette was not moved. She did hold the door open for Lila and walk her all the way out, no doubt to keep an eye on her. Lila didn’t mind. She might not have gotten anything world ending from this trip, but maybe she could at least pawn the pin in her pocket for some cash. The thing looked as though it was made of real silver, sure to be worth a good amount.

Oh yes, she had a good feeling about how this was going to end.

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Well there you have it, that's it for Holloa. Will there be a sequel? Perhaps. It is canon that there is a Hawkmoth several years in the future. Not sure how I would go with making that Hawkmoth Lila without her knowing who Ladybug was, or at least where to get the rest of the miraculous since she picked up the Butterfly from Marinette. Oh wait I do have an idea....hm. Maybe. I'll think about it ok. Lila makes the most sense out of everyone to be Hawkmoth 2.0

#Miraculous Ladybug #nathaniel kurtzberg #marc anciel #lila rossi #Holloa

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lilnasxvevo · 4 years

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It is really fucked Up that so many people think of those guilty of crimes as inherently Less Than and I think it’s a pretty bougie mindset tbh...

It’s good to keep in mind that like, if all you know is “suspect served a sentence for [crime],” here’s what you don’t know: 1) why they did it and 2) IF they did it.

For a lot, a LOT of crimes, if you ask someone why they did it, they will give you a good and compelling reason why they did it. Because I didn’t have any food. Because I didn’t have any place else to go. Because the police weren’t going to help so I had to do it myself. Because I felt like I had no other options.

You don’t know if they did it. Estimates have the number of wrongfully convicted people at anywhere from 2-5%. Maybe they were in the wrong place at the wrong time, or maybe the cops made sure it looked like they did it.

Both these things are important to keep in mind as you start to build compassion for people who have been convicted of crimes and people who are currently in prison. But from there, you can ask—if I feel it is unjust that people who did something because they had to do it to survive are in prison, and I feel that it is unjust that people who are innocent are in prison...is it maybe unjust to send people to prison? Is prison kinda...a fucked up idea? Does prison...maybe ruin most people’s lives?

Idk. Having a sharp delineation in people’s minds between “guilty” and “innocent” people is necessary for people to be able to justify the existence of prisons. But you know, for example, that there are a lot of young men of color who are in prison for drug possession, and that they got caught because their neighborhoods are over-policed and their skin color makes them a target of suspicion. Meanwhile there are a lot of white teens and young adults who never get nailed for possession but who nevertheless frequently possess drugs. Their neighborhoods and schools are not as highly policed and they are less likely to be targeted by law enforcement because they “look suspicious.” The young people that have been convicted and the young people that haven’t are equally guilty. But only some are in jail. Do the white college students with weed “deserve” prison? No? Do you only deserve prison if you look a certain way or if you’re from a certain neighborhood? Do you only deserve prison if you get caught?

It is my belief based on anecdotal evidence that most adults have at some point in their lives committed a crime that many people have gone to prison for—shoplifting, trespassing, possession of drugs and drug paraphernalia, even things like drunk driving or assault.

Have you ever committed any of these crimes? Were you caught? Were you convicted? Does it really mean you aren’t “guilty” if you weren’t caught or convicted? Or does it really put you in that same “guilty” category as the people in prison who you think of as subhuman because they are Guilty? Do the people in prison deserve prison? If they do, does that mean you deserve prison? That your friends and family who have committed any of these offenses deserve prison?

Over 2 million people are currently in prison in America, which is close to 1 in 150 Americans in prison. Because of—everything—institutionalized racism, capitalism, the legacy of slavery, the school to prison pipeline, the greed of private prisons—the people in prison in America tend to be among the most disadvantaged: people of color, homeless people, working class people, and LGBT people are all sent to prison disproportionately compared to the general population. If you are relatively privileged, and mostly or only know other people who are relatively privileged, you might not know anyone who is in prison, and if no one you care about has ever gone to prison, you might have never had to interrogate the idea that people convicted of crimes are less-than or that they deserve whatever they get.

You need to start thinking about why you might think it is kind of horrible that innocent people sometimes have to serve prison sentences, but it’s not horrible that “guilty” people have to serve prison sentences. You have to ask yourself if prison—not on a legal level but on a moral and ethical level—is actually just.

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loretranscripts · 5 years

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Lore Episode 31: Lost and Found (Transcript) - 4th April 2016

tw: murder, gore, blood, human remains, cannibalism

Disclaimer: This transcript is entirely non-profit and fan-made. All credit for this content goes to Aaron Mahnke, creator of Lore podcast. It is by a fan, for fans, and meant to make the content of the podcast more accessible to all. Also, there may be mistakes, despite rigorous re-reading on my part. Feel free to point them out, but please be nice!

Teenagers have a tendency to get up to mischief when they’re bored, that’s as true today as it ever has been. So, when four teenage boys found themselves with a spring afternoon on their hands, they did what any English lad might have done in 1943 – they went poaching. They were only hunting birds’ nests, really. It was April and spring meant nests full of eggs, so they went exploring in their area of Stourbridge, there in the midlands of England. Over the course of that afternoon, their search brought them to a private park known as Hegley Woods, and that’s where they saw the tree. It was a massive elm with an overgrown trunk that looked more like a hedgehog than a plant, with thin, whispy branches that stuck out toward the sky. Locals called it the “Wych Elm”. It was strong, it was climbable, and most importantly it was perfect for nesting, so one of the boys scaled up the side. When he reached the top and began to look for nests, he found something entirely different – a skull was staring up at him from the hollow centre of the tree. The boy assumed it was from an animal and plucked it free from the branches. That’s when he noticed how large it was, and the patches of hair that were still attached to it – human hair. The grisly discovery kicked off one of the biggest unsolved mysteries in modern England. Beneath the skull, lodged in the hollow centre of the tree, was a complete skeleton. It belonged to a young woman of unknown origin and unknown identity. No one stepped forward to claim the body, no killer was ever found, but the public fell in love, and named her, and to this day people still wonder: who put Bella in the wych tree? Humans, you see, are fascinated by dead bodies. They’re the centrepiece of countless mystery stories and a vivid reminder of our own mortality. We can see that fascination in both the innocent wonder of films like Stand by Me and the gruesome realism of CSI. Real life, though, is more complex, it’s more dark than we’d care to admit, and while the odds are good that most people won’t ever stumble upon a dead body, it’s a lot more common than you’d expect. Corpses should be hard to come by, but unfortunately that couldn’t be further from the truth. I’m Aaron Mahnke and this is Lore.

In February of 2013, a number of guests at the Cecil Hotel in Los Angeles called down to the front desk to complain about the water in their rooms. Some described how their shower would run black before clearing up, others complained of the odd taste and odour, and that age-old compaint that we all know and love, poor water pressure, popped up time and time again. So, the maintenance crew was sent up to the roof where the hotel kept water tanks used to supply the rooms, and it’s one of the tanks that they discovered a body. A human body, no less, and it had been there for weeks. It turned out to be a missing woman named Elisa Lam. Her parents had reported her missing in early February, but she had been seen last there in the hotel on the 31st of January, and it had been her decomposing body that had been altering the hotel’s water supply. Finding bodies in unusual places isn’t a new thing, though, and it’s not uncommon, either. In January of 1984, three students from Columbia University were walking home to their dorm when they passed an old carpet, rolled up and discarded on the side of the street. Now, like a lot of you, I’ve been to college, so I think we can all agree that curbside discoveries are frequently wonderful. A random desk, or that ugly couch that’s way too comfortable to be ignored. So, it’s hard to blame these three students for bringing the rug home. When they unrolled it, though, they found a body inside. The man, roughly 20 years old, had been shot to death, as was evident from the bullet holes in his forehead. Needless to say, they didn’t keep the rug and the police were brought in to do a full investigation. In December of 1982, staff were called to a room in a hotel in New Burgen, New Jersey. Occupants complained of a powerful odour in the room, and they weren’t the first. For a number of days leading up to the call, each guest had complained of the same thing, and it seemed to be getting worse. The motel staff finally discovered why: it was the body of Gary Smith, who had been killed by his autotheft partners and stuffed beneath the bed in the room. They had poisoned his hamburger then strangled him when waiting got too hard, and finally hid the evidence beneath the mattress.

In 2011, Abbeville National Bank in Louisiana began renovations to their second floor, an area they had used for storage for decades. Running between the storage area and the active bank facilities was a chimney, and it was just inside the first floor fireplace where workers discovered a few small bones. Climbing inside the fireplace and looking up, they found the source. A body, now little more than a skeleton, had been lodged in the flue. Dental records connected the skeleton to a man reported missing 27 years earlier, in 1984. The man had a criminal record and had been in trouble with the law shortly before his disappearance. Police can’t prove why he was in the chimney, but given the proximity to the bank I feel its safe to guess that he’d been trying to rob it, Santa Claus style. In November of 2011, Russian police raided the home of a historian named Anatoly Moskvin. Inside, they found 29 life-sized dolls, all women, all dressed in fancy clothing. But they weren’t dolls at all. Moskvin, it turns out, was a graverobber with a fetish. For years, the historian had been visiting cemeteries all over western Russia, as many as 750 by some counts, and occasionally brought home corpses that “interested” him. All were females between the ages of 15 and 30, and all had been dead for a very long time. It seems, if we’re to believe the newspapers and media outlets, that stumbling upon a corpse isn’t as rare a thing as we might expect. Maybe it’s a product of the times – with more and more people on the planet, I suppose the odds keep going up that we’ll eventually open a wall or dig a garden bed and find a body. But some bodies are intentionally harder to find. Some killers go to great lengths to hide the evidence of their dirty deeds, and that’s really the core of these stories, isn’t it? Because hiding a body is about more than just making an object disappear. It’s about concealing a crime and escaping the consequences. The trouble is, when those hidden bodies are found, their stories often reveal the greatest horrors of all.

She wasn’t always known as Kate Webster. Sure, when she gave birth to her son in 1874, that was the surname she passed on to him. She claimed to have married a sailor named Webster, but he had died. A decade earlier, though, she had been someone else entirely. Kate Webster had been born Katherine Lawler to a poor family in a small, Irish village in 1849. While most children might have helped out at home or perhaps played with toys, Katherine grew up fast. She spent her childhood learning to pickpocket, and judging by the way the rest of her life played out, it’s a skill she’d been born with. At the age of 15 she was caught and imprisoned for a short time, but by 17, she managed to steal enough money to secure herself passage on a boat to England. But she didn’t use her journey as a chance to make a fresh start. No, Katherine Lawler just kept upping her game. Within a year of arriving in Liverpool, she was caught stealing and sentenced to four years in prison. Once released, she found work cleaning houses in London, as well as working as a prostitute – and then she became pregnant. The father, according to Kate, was a man she called “Mr. Strong”. He’d been her friend, her lover, and her partner in crime for many months, but when he learnt of the pregnancy he abandoned her. Her son, John Webster, was born in April of 1874, and those who knew her couldn’t help but wonder: would this help Kate change her ways? The answer, it turns out, was a clear and obvious no.

Rather than seek reform, Kate simply evolved. She would rent a room in a boarding house and once there, she would begin to sell off the furnishings in her room. When everything was gone, she’d move on and repeat the crime elsewhere. Another thing she repeated, sadly, was prison time. In 1875, while her son John was only a year old, Kate began serving an 18 month term in Wandsworth Prison there in London. It was one of the many stints in police custody, even though she moved around a lot and used various aliases to disguise herself. And all the while, her friend, Sarah Crease, helped by watching and caring for young John. Some think Sarah was an enabler, that she gave Kate the freedom to live her life of crime without the burden of parenthood, but others view Sarah as a hopeful friend. She saw a young boy who needed looking after and she did her best to help out. She also tried to get Kate a real, honest job, something that had the potential to turn the woman’s life around.

In 1879, Sarah’s employer asked if there was someone who could do some house cleaning for a friend of hers, a woman named Julia Martha Thomas. Mrs. Thomas lived in the Richmond area of London, she was a widow in her mid-50s, and had a reputation for being a little strict and prone to anger. But it was a job, and Sarah immidiately suggested Kate Webster. The relationship between Webster and Mrs. Thomas began cordially enough, but quickly devolved into daily arguments. Webster claimed that Mrs. Thomas would follow her around and criticise her work, while Mrs. Thomas claimed Webster came to work drunk most of the time. Needless to say, it wasn’t a match made in heaven, but the two women tried hard to make it work. After a little over a month, Julia Thomas decided it was time to cut Webster loose. Kate, to her credit, tried to change. She begged for just a few more days of employment and, for some unknown reason, Thomas agreed to the terms, but the relationship was eating at her like an ulser, and she couldn’t stop thinking about it. She thought that Kate was stealing from her, but she didn’t have proof yet, and she feared for her life. On March 2nd of 1879, Mrs. Thomas showed up at church clearly upset. She’d just had another argument with Webster, and it had shaken her deeply. Her friends claimed that Thomas seemed distracted and agitated, and she left early to go attend to matters at home. But Kate was waiting for her there, and this time, they would trade more than angry words.

Julia Thomas thought the house was empty, but went searching for Kate Webster anyway. They had unfinished business, and it was time Kate found some place else to work. It was settled – as far as she was concerned, at least. While Thomas was upstairs in the hallway, Webster stepped out of a dark room and attacked her employer. The two women struggled for a moment, and then Kate gave the older woman a shove. Thomas stumbled down the staircase where she slammed into the floor below. Her skull now fractured and bloody, she began to scream where she lay. Kate was immidiately concerned that the neighbours might hear. There was a busy pub right next door, and if someone happened to hear the shouting, Kate was sure to be discovered and arrested. Launching herself down the stairs, she sat upon the injured woman’s chest and began to squeeze her throat with both hands. She wanted the screaming to stop. She needed it to stop, and after a few tense moments, it did. Julia Thomas lay dead on the floor of her own home, and Kate Webster had graduated from theft to murder in the course of just a few heartbeats. But Kate was stronger than her fears, and she knew she had to act fast. She grabbed a razor, a meat saw and a carving knife and set about cutting Thomas’ body into pieces. Later Webster would admit that, while she believed she had always had a strong stomach, this work in particular tested her limits. There had just been so much blood, she later told the police. Webster put the pieces into a large copper kettle and then boiled them in an attempt to reduce them to a more managable state. It was essentially rendering, a process where meat is cooked until the fat and protein separate. Witnesses would later come forward and talk of the stench coming from the home, but no one complained at the time. This was London in the late 19th century, perhaps people were just a little more forgiving of odd odours back then.

When the boiling was complete, Webster fished out each part from the remaining lard and placed them all into a box she found in the home – most of it, that is. She couldn’t seem to fit the head and one of the feet, so she had to get creative. She tossed the foot into a local trash heap, but the head was more problematic. In the end, she found a Gladstone bag, something like an old physician’s handbag, and stashed the head inside there. And then she cleaned the house, removing as much of the evidence as she could that something horrible had taken place there. It took her two full days to do it, but when she was finished, she put on a dress from her employer’s wardrobe and went to the pub next door to meet a friend for drinks. This friend, a Mrs. Porter, later told police that Webster arrived at the pub carrying a large, black bag. She kept it with her almost the entire evening, as if it contained something very valuable to her. Oddly, though, Webster excused herself from the table at one point, and when she returned a short while later, the bag was gone. Webster’s next order of business was to get rid of the box that contained what remained of Mrs. Thomas, so she enlisted the help of Mrs. Porter’s son to carry it out of the house and to nearby Barns Bridge. He carried the heavy box all the way to the bridge, and then she sent him home, claiming that a friend was on the way to meet her there. This boy would later tell police that, as he was walking away, he heard a large splash. It was as if something heavy had been tossed into the river. Webster had disposed of the body, and I can’t help but wonder if she perhaps sighed with relief when the box finally dipped beneath the surface of the Thames and vanished from sight. The following day, though, things got more complicated. Unware that the box containing Mrs. Thomas had actually floated to the surface and drifted to shore over night, Kate Webster dug in deeper. She took on the identity of her former employer while beginning to sell off all the items in the house. Old habits die hard, apparently. And it was about this time, according to a later witness, that Webster stepped outside and spoke to a pair of neighbourhood boys. She had two bowls in her hand, and they were steaming hot. She told them it was lard – from a pig, she added – and they were welcome to have it for free, if they wanted it. The boys ate two bowls each.

While the police were investigating the discovery of the box full of body parts, they had no clues that might point them to the killer responsible. It even took them a bit of time to figure out that the parts were actually human rather than butcher cast-offs, but even then, all they could be sure of was that the victim had been a middle-aged woman. Kate Webster, meanwhile, was making money hand over fist. She sold off the smaller items first – the jewellery, the knick-knacks, even her victim’s gold teeth – and then began to spread word that the furniture was for sale as well. And that lead to an agreement with a local man, who arrived on March 9th with a small group of men to help him carry the items out of the house. A neighbour woman saw the activity and approached one of the remaining men. “Who ordered the removal of these items?” she asked him. The man simply turned and pointed to Kate Webster, who stood on the front steps of the house. “She did,” he replied, “Mrs. Thomas.” When the police finally arrived, they entered the house and immidiately found signs of something tragic: a charred finger bone in the fireplace, bloodstains on the floor, splatters of grease – or lard – around the copper kettle. But the one thing they wanted to find, a killer, was nowhere to be seen. Kate Webster had skipped town. In the end, the authorities tracked her down in Ireland. She’d taken her son and made her way back to her hometown as fast as she could. When she arrived, she did so while still wearing clothing and jewellery taken from Mrs. Thomas. But her stay there was short-lived – the local police chief, the man who 15 years earlier had put her in jail for the first time, recognised her in the bulletin from Scotland Yard and quickly took her into custody. Everything after that moved quickly. Webster was transported back to England, and at every train stop between Liverpool and London, crowds gathered to jeer and shout at her. By March 30th, she had been formally charged with murder.

Of course, she tried to lie her way out of it. This was the woman who had changed her name dozens of times to outsmart the police, who had moved into room after room and sold off the possessions inside. She was a thief and a liar, so it was only natural for her to try and talk her away out of this too. First, she blamed the murder on Henry Porter, the husband of her friend from the pub, but when his alibi held up she shifted the blame to the man who had come to buy the furniture from the Thomas house. He too was easily dismissed. When it appeared that she wouldn’t be able to squirm out from under the charge of murder, she took credit for the crime, but claimed that she only did it because others told her to. In the end, none of it worked. The formal trial began on July 2nd of 1879, and just six days later, the jury declared her guilty. The judge, a man named Justice Denman, sentenced her to be executed. Yes, Judge Justice – I can’t make these things up. When asked if there was any reason why she should not be executed, Webster told the judge yes, insisting that she was in fact pregnant. A new jury of women were gathered together along with a physician, and after examining Webster they declared that the pregnancy, like everything else the woman had said, was also a lie. She returned to Wandsworth Prison, where she had served time before working for Mrs. Thomas, and it was there that she wrote her formal confession. She described all of the details of the murder, right down to how she burned the internal organs to get rid of them, how she chose her tools, and even how she removed the head. On July 29th, Kate Webster stepped onto the platform inside the prison’s execution chamber, a building that was ironically nicknamed “The Cold Meatshed”. A governer announced the time, a priest administered last rights, and then she was guided onto the trapdoors with a sack over her head. Afterward, she was buried in an unmarked grave, right there at the prison. The records of Wandsworth Prison contain the names of 134 people who were executed over the span of 110 years. Kate Webster was the only woman on that list.

It’s hard to nail down the real reason behind our fascination with death, but it’s safe to at least make a guess. Death puts our mortality on display. No matter how hard we try to avoid it as a topic, to ignore its slow, steady approach from the distance, we can’t seem to get away from it. Whether we want it or not, death will come for us all one day, and the dead body stands as that singular, visceral reminder of our death. In the horror movies, it’s the clue that’s dropped into our laps early on in the film. It highlights the danger our heroes find themselves in, it represents what’s at stake, what could happen if they fail and the true power of the killer. When the London police pulled the box containing the remains of a women from the cold waters of the Thames, they didn’t know a lot, but they did know one thing. There was a killer in London, and whoever it was needed to be stopped. Thankfully, they managed to do just that, but in a wild twist of irony, the body of Julia Thomas has been lost. It might have been a result of the way evidence was handled in the late 19th century, or the state of decay when the remains were found. Whatever the reason, there’s no grave for Julia Thomas, no tombstone with her name etched into the surface. Her body was lost, and then found, and then finally lost again. Well, most of it. As luck would have it, the neighbourhood where her house once stood has gone through some renevation. In October of 2010, a wealthy London homeowner was having an addition built in his backyard, when the work crew unearthed something small and white. It was a skull. The teeth were missing, but there was a fracture at the back of the head, and after doing a bit more research, investigators determined that the structure that once stood in the homeowner’s backyard was a stable – a stable behind the pub that stood next door to Julia Thomas. Her body might be lost forever into the pages of history, but the head that Kate Webster had tried so hard to get rid of has finally been recovered. Oh, and the wealthy homeowner who stumbled upon the skull? None other than English naturalist, Sir David Attenborough.

[Closing statements]

#lore podcast #aaron mahnke #podcast transcripts #kate webster #witch elm #bella in the witch elm #elisa lam #england #ireland #true crime #transcripts #31

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wewererogue · 5 years

Text

The Norwegian prison where inmates are treated like people

[by Erwin James / The Guardian, February 2013]

On Bastoy prison island in Norway, the prisoners, some of whom are murderers and rapists, live in conditions that critics brand ‘cushy’ and 'luxurious’. Yet it has by far the lowest reoffending rate in Europe.

An inmate sunbathes on the deck of his bungalow on Bastoy. Photograph: Marco Di Lauro

The first clue that things are done very differently on Bastoy prison island, which lies a couple of miles off the coast in the Oslo fjord, 46 miles south-east of Norway’s capital, comes shortly after I board the prison ferry. I’m taken aback slightly when the ferry operative who welcomed me aboard just minutes earlier, and with whom I’m exchanging small talk about the weather, suddenly reveals he is a serving prisoner – doing 14 years for drug smuggling. He notes my surprise, smiles, and takes off a thick glove before offering me his hand. “I’m Petter,” he says.

Before he transferred to Bastoy, Petter was in a high-security prison for nearly eight years. “Here, they give us trust and responsibility,” he says. “They treat us like grownups.” I haven’t come here particularly to draw comparisons, but it’s impossible not to consider how politicians and the popular media would react to a similar scenario in Britain.

There are big differences between the two countries, of course. Norway has a population of slightly less than five million, a 12th of the UK’s. It has fewer than 4,000 prisoners; there are around 84,000 in the UK. But what really sets us apart is the Norwegian attitude towards prisoners. Four years ago I was invited into Skien maximum security prison, 20 miles north of Oslo. I had heard stories about Norway’s liberal attitude. In fact, Skien is a concrete fortress as daunting as any prison I have ever experienced and houses some of the most serious law-breakers in the country. Recently it was the temporary residence of Anders Breivik, the man who massacred 77 people in July 2011.

Despite the seriousness of their crimes, however, I found that the loss of liberty was all the punishment they suffered. Cells had televisions, computers, integral showers and sanitation. Some prisoners were segregated for various reasons, but as the majority served their time – anything up to the 21-year maximum sentence (Norway has no death penalty or life sentence) – they were offered education, training and skill-building programmes. Instead of wings and landings they lived in small “pod” communities within the prison, limiting the spread of the corrosive criminal prison subculture that dominates traditionally designed prisons. The teacher explained that all prisons in Norway worked on the same principle, which he believed was the reason the country had, at less than 30%, the lowest reoffending figures in Europe and less than half the rate in the UK.

As the ferry powers through the freezing early-morning fog, Petter tells me he is appealing against his conviction. If it fails he will be on Bastoy until his release date in two years’ time. I ask him what life is like on the island. “You’ll see,” he says. “It’s like living in a village, a community. Everybody has to work. But we have free time so we can do some fishing, or in summer we can swim off the beach. We know we are prisoners but here we feel like people.”

I wasn’t sure what to expect on Bastoy. A number of wide-eyed commentators before me have variously described conditions under which the island’s 115 prisoners live as “cushy”, “luxurious” and, the old chestnut, “like a holiday camp”. I’m sceptical of such media reports.

An inmate repairs a bike. Photograph: Marco Di Lauro

As a life prisoner, I spent the first eight years of the 20 I served in a cell with a bed, a chair, a table and a bucket for my toilet. In that time I was caught up in a major riot, trapped in a siege and witnessed regular acts of serious violence. Across the prison estate, several hundred prisoners took their own lives, half a dozen of whom I knew personally – and a number were murdered. Yet the constant refrain from the popular press was that I, too, was living in a “holiday camp”. When in-cell toilets were installed, and a few years later we were given small televisions, the “luxury prison” headlines intensified and for the rest of the time I was in prison, it never really abated.

It always seemed to me while I was in jail that the real prison scandal was the horrendous rate of reoffending among released prisoners. In 2007, 14 prisons in England and Wales had reconvictions rates of more than 70%. At an average cost of £40,000 a year for each prisoner, this amounts to a huge investment in failure – and a total lack of consideration for potential future victims of released prisoners. That’s the reason I’m keen to have a look at what has been hailed as the world’s first “human ecological prison”.

Thorbjorn, a 58-year-old guard who has worked on Bastoy for 17 years, gives me a warm welcome as I step on to dry land. As we walk along the icy, snowbound track that leads to the admin block, he tells me how the prison operates. There are 70 members of staff on the 2.6 sq km island during the day, 35 of whom are uniformed guards. Their main job is to count the prisoners – first thing in the morning, twice during the day at their workplaces, once en masse at a specific assembly point at 5pm, and finally at 11pm, when they are confined to their respective houses. Only four guards remain on the island after 4pm. Thorbjorn points out the small, brightly painted wooden bungalows dotted around the wintry landscape. “These are the houses for the prisoners,” he says. They accommodate up to six people. Every man has his own room and they share kitchen and other facilities. “The idea is they get used to living as they will live when they are released.” Only one meal a day is provided in the dining hall. The men earn the equivalent of £6 a day and are given a food allowance each month of around £70 with which to buy provisions for their self-prepared breakfasts and evening meals from the island’s well-stocked mini-supermarket.

I can see why some people might think such conditions controversial. The common understanding of prison is that it is a place of deprivation and penance rather than domestic comfort.

Prisoners in Norway can apply for a transfer to Bastoy when they have up to five years left of their sentence to serve. Every type of offender, including men convicted of murder or rape, may be accepted, so long as they fit the criteria, the main one being a determination to live a crime-free life on release.

I ask Thorbjorn what work the prisoners do on the island. He tells me about the farm where prisoners tend sheep, cows and chickens, or grow fruit and vegetables. “They grow much of their own food,” he says.

Other jobs are available in the laundry; in the stables looking after the horses that pull the island’s cart transport; in the bicycle repair shop, (many of the prisoners have their own bikes, bought with their own money); on ground maintenance or in the timber workshop. The working day begins at 8.30am and already I can hear the buzz of chainsaws and heavy-duty strimmers. We walk past a group of red phone boxes from where prisoners can call family and friends. A large building to our left is where weekly visits take place, in private family rooms where conjugal relations are allowed.

After the security officer signs me in and takes my mobile, Thorbjorn delivers me to governor Arne Nilsen’s office. “Let me tell you something,” Thorbjorn says before leaving me. “You know, on this island I feel safer than when I walk on the streets in Oslo.”

Through Nilsen’s window I can see the church, the school and the library. Life for the prisoners is as normal as it is possible to be in a prison. It feels rather like a religious commune; there is a sense of peace about the place, although the absence of women (apart from some uniformed guards) and children is noticeable. Nilsen has coined a phrase for his prison: “an arena of developing responsibility.” He pours me a cup of tea.

“In closed prisons we keep them locked up for some years and then let them back out, not having had any real responsibility for working or cooking. In the law, being sent to prison is nothing to do with putting you in a terrible prison to make you suffer. The punishment is that you lose your freedom. If we treat people like animals when they are in prison they are likely to behave like animals. Here we pay attention to you as human beings.”

A clinical psychologist by profession, Nilsen shrugs off any notion that he is running a holiday camp. I sense his frustration. “You don’t change people by power,” he says. “For the victim, the offender is in prison. That is justice. I’m not stupid. I’m a realist. Here I give prisoners respect; this way we teach them to respect others. But we are watching them all the time. It is important that when they are released they are less likely to commit more crimes. That is justice for society.”

The reoffending rate for those released from Bastoy speaks for itself. At just 16%, it is the lowest in Europe. But who are the prisoners on Bastoy? Are they the goodie-goodies of the system?

Hessle is 23 years old and serving 11 years for murder. “It was a revenge killing,” he says. “I wish I had not done it, but now I must pay for my crime.” Slight and fair-haired, he says he has been in and out of penal institutions since he was 15. Drugs have blighted his life and driven his criminality. There are three golden rules on Bastoy: no violence, no alcohol and no drugs. Here, he works in the stables tending the horses and has nearly four years left to serve. How does he see the future? “Now I have no desire for drugs. When I get out I want to live and have a family. Here I am learning to be able to do that.”

A convict works on Bastoy prison farm. Photograph: Marco Di Lauro

Hessle plays the guitar and is rehearsing with other prisoners in the Bastoy Blues Band. Last year they were given permission to attend a music festival as a support act that ZZ Top headlined. Bjorn is the band’s teacher. Once a Bastoy prisoner who served five years for attacking his wife in a “moment of madness”, he now returns once a week to teach guitar. “I know the potential for people here to change,” he says.

Formerly a social researcher, he has formed links with construction companies he previously worked for that have promised to consider employing band members if they can demonstrate reliability and commitment. “This is not just about the music,” he says, “it’s about giving people a chance to prove their worth.”

Sven, another band member, was also convicted of murder, and sentenced to eight years. The 29-year-old was an unemployed labourer before his conviction. He works in the timber yard and is waiting to see if his application to be “house father” in his five-man bungalow is successful. “I like the responsibility,” he says. “Before coming here I never really cared for other people.”

The female guard who introduces me to the band is called Rutchie. “I’m very proud to be a guard here, and my family are very proud of me,” she says. It takes three years to train to be a prison guard in Norway. She looks at me with disbelief when I tell her that in the UK prison officer training is just six weeks. “There is so much to learn about the people who come to prison,” she says. “We need to try to understand how they became criminals, and then help them to change. I’m still learning.”

Finally, I’m introduced to Vidor, who at 72 is the oldest prisoner on the island. He works in the laundry and is the house father of his four-man bungalow. I haven’t asked any of the prisoners about their crimes. The information has been offered voluntarily. Vidor does the same. He tells me he is serving 15 years for double manslaughter. There is a deep sadness in his eyes, even when he smiles. “Killers like me have nowhere to hide,” he says. He tells me that in the aftermath of his crimes he was “on the floor”. He cried a lot at first. “If there was the death penalty I would have said, yes please, take me.” He says he was helped in prison. “They helped me to understand why I did what I did and helped me to live again.” Now he studies philosophy, in particular Nietzsche. “I’m glad they let me come here. It is a healthy place to be. I’ll be 74 when I get out,” he says. “I’ll be happy if I can get to 84, and then just say: 'Bye-bye.’”

On the ferry back to the mainland I think about what I have seen and heard. Bastoy is no holiday camp. In some ways I feel as if I’ve seen a vision of the future – a penal institution designed to heal rather than harm and to generate hope instead of despair. I believe all societies will always need high-security prisons. But there needs to be a robust filtering procedure along the lines of the Norwegian model, in order that the process is not more damaging than necessary. As Nilsen asserts, justice for society demands that people we release from prison should be less likely to cause further harm or distress to others, and better equipped to live as law-abiding citizens.

It would take much political courage and social confidence to spread the penal philosophy of Bastoy outside Norway, however. In the meantime, I hope the decision-makers of the world take note of the revolution in rehabilitation that is occurring on that tiny island. (94)

#long post #Erwin James #theory #norway #prison

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thejollyroger-writer · 6 years

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Won’t You Help Me Feel Something Again

Inspired by this prompt post, reblogged by @killian-whump , and then--SURPRISE--I added too much backstory and made it terribly painful, physically and emotionally. Thanks for that, PMS. Excellent. Title from the song “Sober Up” by AJR.

Rated T for torture, tears, death, and lots and lots of feelings.

Also on AO3, if that’s your thing.

Killian leans his head back until it hits the surface he's laying on. He never thought he would be thankful for the hard, cold feel of concrete against his back, but in this moment, he can swear that it's the greatest thing he's ever felt.

He tries to open his eyes, but it turns out to be useless. All he sees are blurs around him, the piercing brightness of the lights above him, and he slowly closes them again.

He feels something touching him—someone, a woman, with soft hands pressing lightly on his chest, his arms, his ribs, leaving throbbing pain in their wake.

It is not until he starts speaking that he notices the ringing in his ears, the blinding pain of his throat as he will the words to come.

“Please put me back,” he chokes out. “Please. If they know you helped me, they… they’ll hurt you too. Please. I can’t let you be hurt.” He may not know who she is, but he knows that, if she's here, she is in grave danger.

“Shhhh .” He can't tell if her voice is quiet, or if he simply just can't hear her, but her words are a comfort even as her fingers find a particularly painful spot on his right side, where he must have a broken rib. “You are no longer in danger, Mr. Jones. We're here to help you.”

He tries to take a deep breath, but it causes a pain so deep that everything goes white, even with his eyes still closed. “Please,” he gasps again, trying his hardest not to move at all. “Please, just go. Just leave me. It's what I deserve.”

Her hands leave his body, and even with the searing pain they were bringing, he misses them immediately.

“I'm afraid I can't do that, Mr. Jones,” she says, calling him that again, and he wants to correct her.

He's not Mr. Jones. He never has been. Liam was Mr. Jones, and Killian was always just Killian .

Mr. Jones is dead, and it's all Killian's fault.

“No,” is all he can muster, barely more than a breath, and after he feels the stab of the needle in his arm, his entire body goes numb, and he slips back into unconsciousness.

3 Months Before

His hand curls around the coffee cup in front of him, scrolling through the newspaper on the screen in front of him one last time before he sends it to the printer. The clock on the wall behind him ticks the seconds away before it strikes midnight, and before it finishes its dozen chimes, he turns to the last page. By this point in the night, he is just copy editing, hoping that his interns have caught all the big mistakes, but a final once-over of the Boston Globe has become part of his routine since he was just an intern ten years before.

The words almost stop losing meaning entirely as he scans the page from top to bottom, and he may have reached the bottom of the obituaries without actually reading a single word if he didn't see it.

Milah Gold, 46, was found dead in her private home early Sunday morning, after passing soundly in her sleep the night before. All reports have confirmed natural causes. She and her husband, former Boston crime boss Robert Gold, who is still serving three consecutive life sentences, had one son, Neal Gold, 26. No funeral arrangements have been made public.

His coffee cup falls to the floor, shattering upon impact. It had been almost ten years since he last saw her, since he told her that she needed to choose between him and her husband and she picked her husband and never saw him again, even after Gold was convicted and sent to prison four years later. But it still hurt, seeing the words on the paper.

Forgetting the lateness of the hour, he grabs his phone from his desk and quickly calls his brother, holding the phone to his ear with his shoulder as he fetches the broom and a stack of paper towels from the supply closet outside his office.

Liam picks up on the third ring. “Fuck, Killian, do you know how late it is?”

“Why didn't you tell me about Milah?” Killian asks quicky, avoiding Liam's outburst.

“What?”

“You're a bloody Captain in the Boston Police Department, don't tell me you hadn't already heard.”

“Of course I heard! I thought you hadn't spoken to her in years, so I figured it didn't matter to you anymore.”

“‘ Didn't matter to me ’? Bloody hell, brother, do you really think I'm that shallow? You should have at least given me a heads up so I didn't have to learn it by proofing the fucking obituaries.” Much harder than necessary, Killian drops half the pile of paper towels on top of the spill, trying to soak up some of the coffee using the sole of his black boot.

“Jesus, Killian, I'm sorry.”

Sweeping it all in the dustpan, Killian dumps the paper towels and shattered pieces of ceramic into the trash can and takes a deep breath, hearing his brother do the same on the other end of the line before they both fall silent, Killian able to hear the crackle of the police radio in the background.

“Is that all you called me to ask?” Liam asks, his voice soft. He must know what's coming.

“Are you on a stake out?” Killian asks, trying to discern who else may be around for this conversation.

“Aye, but it's just with David. What's on your mind?”

“The paper reports natural causes, but is that really the truth?”

“Killian, you know I can't discuss that—” he tries, but Killian cuts him off.

“You wouldn't have asked if you didn't know it was coming.”

He hears Liam sigh and can see the way he must be scratching at his beard.

“If I hear about any of this in the papers, I'll personally come and arrest you,” Liam says after a moment, and Killian rolls his eyes.

“Yes, yes, of course, Liam. We've been over this all before.”

“It's being investigated. She has been sick for a while, though, you know that, so we do have reason to believe that it was actually natural causes.”

“But will you—will you let me know if you find anything? Not for the paper, of course, just so I… so I know that there was nothing I could have done to save her.”

“Killian, you can't do this to yourself. Not again, please,” his brother begs, and Killian rests his forehead on his desk.

Hell, he should have listened to Liam. If he did, maybe they wouldn't have gotten in this mess in the first place.

Maybe Liam would still be alive.

Two weeks later

Killian looks down at his phone for what feels like the thousandth time in ten minutes, sitting in the back corner of Liam's favorite coffee shop.

Nothing.

Unlocking the screen, he reads the last message he received from Liam just half an hour before.

Liam: Being followed. Need to talk abt MG. Meet me for coffee in 20.

Twenty minutes has come and gone with no sign of Liam. For the first time ever, Killian is glad he opted for decaf tea instead of his high-caffeine. He's already jittery enough without it, he can only imagine how quickly his heart would be pounding with the added assistance of a stimulant.

The bell over the door rings, and Killian's head shoots up so quickly something in his back pops. It's not Liam, no, but if there's a “next best thing,” this is it: David Nolan, his partner.

“Killian,” David breathes, trying to catch his breath as he slides into the chair across the table from him. “Where is he? I was halfway across town and got here as quickly as I could.”

All Killian can do is shrug, shake his head, and close his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Fuck, this is not good.”

Killian unlocks his phone again, showing David the last message from his brother. “Is this the same message you got?”

David reads it over quickly, then nods up at Killian. “Same gist, at least.”

“It was him, wasn't it?” Killian asks, leaning forward on his elbows to voice his concern to David, the very worst-case-scenario scenario that has been bouncing around Killian's mind since Liam failed to show up.

“We don't know that, Killian. We can't make any assump—”

But when Killian's phone begins to ring, a picture of he and Liam from when they were younger showing up on the screen, David's words stop abruptly.

At first, neither of them move.

“Well?” David asks after the first two rings.

“But what if—”

“Just answer the damned phone, Jones.”

So he does.

“Hello?” he asks, praying to hear his brother's voice on the other end of the line.

He shouldn't be so lucky.

“Ah, Mr. Jones. How nice for you to answer. We have your brother.” The voice is most definitely not his brother's. It sounds somewhat familiar to him, but he can't place it.

“Bloody hell, what do you want? Just let him go, I can—”

The voice on the other side laughs, an eerily familiar sound that he immediately recognizes, but he knows that can't be right. He would recognize Robert Gold's laugh anywhere, but he would also recognize his voice.

“You can what , exactly, Jones? You're a newspaper editor, for Christ's sake. There is nothing you can do for me that I can't do on my own.”

As if to make matters worse, he hears Liam in the background, screaming, “Just get out, Killian! Run while you can!” followed by the solid thunk of something making contact with his face.

“Then what do you want with Liam?”

“All I want is to prove a point. This is what happens when you try to mess with the wrong people. Keep your ink-stained nose out of other people's damn business, or you're going to lose much more than just your brother.”

“Just let him go!” he tries, but he's only met with more laughter.

“Say goodbye to your brother, Captain!” he says, followed by another laugh.

“Damn it, no!” Killian cries, just as he hears,

“Good bye, Mr. Jones.”

There's the unmistakable sound of a gunshot on the other end of the line, and then silence.

“No!” Killian yells, much louder than necessary in the coffee shop, and the few people around him turn their heads to him, but he holds his head in his hands, elbows on the table. “No,” he says again, barely more than a whisper as he feels his throat begin to restrict.

“What did they say?” David asks, reaching out to rest his hand against Killian's arm. “Who was it?”

“They—they have him. They took him, and they— Jesus Christ , I think they killed him.”

“They what ?!”

“There was a gunshot, and I think—I'm pretty sure they killed him.”

Killian has no idea how the words are coming out so calmly, his entire body going numb at the thought of Liam being gone, and when his phone buzzes on the table between them, he makes no move to answer it, his eyes going wide as he stares at it.

When David realizes that Killian is not going to see what the notification is, he grabs the phone himself, and Killian watches as his eyes narrow then fly open, widening still as he sets the phone back on the table.

“Holy shit,” he mumbles, then turns his face up to Killian's for just a moment. “I have to—I have to step outside.”

This confuses Killian, intrigues him, and though he knows he shouldn't, he picks up the phone. After fifteen years of crime reporting, Killian has seen more than enough gruesome crime scene photos, and he knows that David has spent most of his time on the force as a homicide detective.

Apparently, nothing could prepare either of them for the picture of Liam that Killian received. If Killian wasn't sure that it was his brother, he never would have recognized his face, torn to bloody pieces, both of his eyes swollen, chunks of skin missing from his cheeks and his shoulders, his only recognizable feature being the bird tattoo on his shoulder, which looks like its been wiped off specifically for identification.

And there, right above his heart, at the very bottom of the picture, is the wound left behind by the bullet Killian heard on the phone.

Killian barely makes it out the door of the coffee shop before he empties the contents of his stomach in the alley just beyond the doorway.

Liam was gone. Liam, his only family since he was ten years old and his mother died, was dead.

And it was because of him.

--- --- ---

Five days later, Killian wakes up with a start, his body sticky with sweat and clinging to the sheets, exactly the same way he's woken up each time since he realized that his actions led to the death of his brother.

But this time, it's different. This time, he has realized something, and his hand fumbles around his bedside table, searching for his phone in the dark of the room.

Once he finds it, he calls David.

It takes four rings for him to answer his phone, his voice thick with sleep, and he hears his wife, Mary Margaret, in the background, trying to make sure everything is okay.

“I know who it was, David.”

“What?”

“The voice from the phone call. It's been ten years since I last saw him, but it had to be him, its the only thing that makes sense.”

“Who? Who do you think it was?”

“Not think, Dave. I know . It has to be him. The—the investigation, the laughter, the brutality, it's all him.”

“ Who , Killian?” David insists, and Killian can tell from the noise in the background that he's getting out of bed, already amped up with the knowledge that Killian might know who killed Liam.

“Gold,” Killian says, as if it makes all the sense in the world.

“Robert Gold is in jail. You know that.”

“No, no, no, not Robert Gold. His son. Milah’s son, Neal.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“He's always hated me. He blamed me for his parent's separation, even though she went back to him in the end. And it would explain how he has the same laugh as Robert Gold, if it's his son.”

David groans on the other end of the line, then sighs. “ I can't believe I'm saying this, ” he mumbles. “Meet me at the station. If you're right, Killian—and I hope you're right, I really do—then we might be able to stop this once and for all.”

After the fastest shower Killian's ever taken, just trying to wash the layer of sweat off his body, Killian pulls on jeans and one of Liam's Boston PD t-shirts, laces up his boots, and grabs his leather jacket on the way out the door.

He pushes through the door at the bottom of the steps, making sure it locked behind him before stepping away from it— one of many things he's learned from Liam over the years— but before he can make it to his car, something makes contact with the back of his head, and he is unconscious before he can hit the pavement.

--- --- ---

When Killian's eyes shoot open, all he knows is pain. His head is throbbing, the edge of his vision blurring with the pounding of his heart. He is hanging from something, chains circling his arms down to the elbows, keeping him inches from the ground. His arms are numb, and when he tries to move his shoulders, every nerve from the base of his skull down screams out in agony.

He takes in as much of a breath as he can until his muscles begin to fight back, his throat burning, his chest, his lungs.

Fuck.

Trying to keep as still as he can, he focuses on the beating of his heart, willing it to slow down, but just as he begins to have control of it, the metal doors to his left crash open, brightening the room even more and undoing any of the calm Killian was trying to settle over his body.

“Hello, Mr. Jones,” the man says, the same voice from the phone call, and Killian's hunch and greatest fear are confirmed at the same time.

Standing before him, a baseball bat slung over one shoulder, is Neal Gold, aged ten years since the last time Killian saw him, but there is no doubt about who he is.

“Neal,” he chokes out, trying his damndest to smile at the boy.

Well, he was a boy ten years ago, sixteen years old and a vendetta for Killian. He's not much of a boy anymore.

“How nice to see you again.”

The smile Never shoots back at him is much more smug than the one Killian attempts. “I can assure you, the pleasure of this situation is all mine.” Neal just stares at him, unmoving.

Killian tries to swallow, his mouth gone bone dry, but all that he finds is a burning, searing pain instead of relief.

“What do you want, Neal?” Killian asks finally, but Neal stands in front of him for a few more moments, his head cocked to the side, a terrifying smile on his face.

“What do I want?” he repeats, his eyes piercing holes into Killian's soul until he turns on his heel and begins pacing in front of where Killian is hanging. “What do I want?” he says again, this time as if he is actually asking himself the question. “Well, you see, Killian—” He swings back to face Killian, eyes blown wide with madness. “I'm assuming it's okay if I call you Killian now, enough with the formality? You always did try to insist I stop calling you 'Mr. Jones,’ but I just couldn't bring myself to do it, with you fucking my mom and tearing apart my family and all.”

When Killian doesn't answer, his jaw grinding together apparently the only movement that doesn't hurt, Neal just nods his head a few times, then begins pacing again.

“Anyway, Killian , what I want is to put you through the same pain that you put me through. But while mine has been fifteen years in the making, you will be getting yours in much, much less time than that.”

Before Killian can object, Neal shoulders the baseball bat, then swings it at his ribs, making contact with a sickening crunch.

“Neal, please,” he begs, his voice barely a whimper, but Neal just shoulders the bat again, this time hitting just below his hip bone. “Please, you don't—you don't have to do this.”

“You split up my parents!” Neal yells, articulating the last word with a blow that lands just below his ribs, and the bat clatters to the floor. “You made her leave him!” Now, he articulates his words with his fists, reaching up with this one to reach his face, and it takes only a few moments for Killian's mouth to fill with blood. “You helped send him to prison!” Right in the middle of his sternum. “And you killed her !” His fist lands exactly where the first blow from the bat did, and if his ribs didn't break before they certainly did now.

“Neal, none of that is true,” he manages, his voice nowhere near as weak as he feels, somehow. But his words come slowly, and he has to take a quick, deep breath every few words to keep from passing out. “Your parents were already separated when I met your mother. That had nothing to do with me. She already left him when we met.”

“That's not what my father said!”

“Your father beat her half to death one night. Sent her to the hospital. She was under police protection when I met her. Doing a story on your father.”

“You are a god damned liar !” Killian's not expecting Neal's fist to collide with his face again, and he has to spit some of the blood in his mouth on to the floor to continue.

“You can believe what you want, Neal, but I loved your mother, and I only wanted the best for her. But in the end, she picked you. I told her she had to decide between me and Gold, and she said she couldn't leave you. And I accepted that.”

“You still helped put my father in jail!”

“Your father would have gone to jail without my help. Everything I did was for his last conviction, the last of his life sentences. He would still be serving two without the assistance I offered the police.”

“You killed my mother!” he cries out, but instead of in anger, Killian realizes that Neal has quickly broken down and watches as a tear slides down his cheek.

“How do you figure?”

“You left her! To die of a broken heart! There was no one left to protect her, and she died! Because of you!”

Suddenly, Neal reaches under his jacket and pulls out something, though it takes a few moments for Killian to clear the haze covering his vision and realize that it's a pistol.

“Neal, no, wait, I—I told you, your mother left me , told me I had to leave her alone, never see her again—”

“Excuses!” Neal screams, his voice echoing off the thick concrete walls, and he watches in terror as he raises the pistol to Killian's temple, standing just on the edge of his periphery. “That's all you have in you, Killian. Excuses and lies !”

“Neal, no!” he cries out, and everything goes black.

--- --- ---

“Killian,” he hears, though it sounds far away, like he's drowning, listening through water.

With all the pain his body is in, nothing would really surprise him anymore.

“Killian, god damn it, come back to me!” There are hands on his chest, something pressing above his heart, a sharp pain in his ribs—

And light.

His eyes fly open, his vision suddenly much clearer than the last few times he tried to see.

But he's still not sure that it's real. Sure, every bone, every nerve, every inch of his body hurts, but the vision before him is too perfect to exist anywhere beyond his dreams.

“There he is,” she says, her golden ponytail falling down over her shoulder, and the smile that spreads across her face just proves to him that he must be dreaming.

Or worse.

But when she turns and yells out, “David! He’s back!” and he goes to move, pain shoots down his spine, a searing light that turns his vision white.

With pain like that, he can't be dreaming. Or dead.

That's good, at least. Or something like that.

She turns back to him, her green eyes bright. “I'm gonna give you something for the pain, okay?” she asks, holding up a syringe, and he nods, barely feeling the needle slip under his skin.

“Killian, Christ, are you okay?”

Killian can't help but laugh at the obscenity of this question, but he only lets out a huff before his entire body fights back. “That's a terrible question, Nolan,” he mumbles as strongly as he can, though he's fairly sure it just makes him sound weak.

“Careful, Jones, your ribs are broken,” the woman comments, half-smiling at him from behind David.

“Oh, that must be why it hurts when I laugh.”

David laughs, poising himself to clap Killian on the shoulder, changes his angle to hit his leg before he decides he's better off just to leave him untouched, holding his hands up in surrender.

“You're right. You look terrible, but you're alive.”

“Aye,” he says, trying to smile, but he's pretty sure his jaw is broken. “Though would someone do me the honor of explaining… how?”

“When you didn't show up at the station, I tried calling you a few times before I remembered that Liam had that “Find My iPhone” thing on his computer for your phone and his, but you must have dropped you when they picked you up, since it was sitting on the sidewalk next to your car.

“But then I remembered what you said about Neal Gold, so I looked at few things up about him back at the station. There were a bunch of warehouses in his name, half a dozen of them, and five of them were legitimate, housing stuff for his business, but when we raided the last one, we found a bunch of guards sitting in one of the rooms, including Neal, and then you were in the next room, hanging from the damned ceiling and I thought you were dead. But the paramedics showed up in just a few minutes, and this one here,” he says, wrapping his arm around the blonde angel standing next to him. “She worked her magic and brought you back.”

“Oh, come on, David,” she says, the apples of her cheeks reddening at his compliment. “Science is what healed him, medicine. Any paramedic could have done that.”

“Aye, maybe,” Killian tries, and this time when he smiles at her, it doesn't hurt nearly as much; whatever she gave him was starting to work. “But you did it, love. If David says you saved me, then I am forever in your debt.”

“That seems like a bit of an exaggeration there, Jones,” she says, but smiles at him again.

“Can I at least have the name of my savior?”

“Emma,” she breathes, turning around to see where David is behind her. “Emma Swan. I'm David's foster sister.”

“Well, Emma Swan,” he says, staring up at her as she continues to search his body for damage. “I am indebted to you. Now, can you tell me all that that bastard did to me?”

Four broken ribs. Three on the left, one on the right, the worst one practically shattered from the impact from the baseball bat. A severe concussion. A broken jaw. Severe internal bleeding. A fractured femur. A dislocated hip. Two dislocated—and severely bruised—shoulders. And one with a bullet lodged in the muscle.

Eleven surgeries.

Killian heals. Slowly, painfully, but he heals nonetheless.

Three times a week, David shows up after his patrol with a newspaper and a cinnamon bun from Liam's favorite bakery. They talk for as long as Killian can manage before his pain meds knock him out again, hitting all the big subjects: baseball scores, big cases, David's wife's pregnancy.

And David's visits are almost the best parts of Killian's weeks.

Almost.

The only thing better is the days when Emma stops by Killian's room after her shifts, a cup of Earl Grey tea from the cafeteria and a smile, the brightest and most glorious thing he swears he has ever seen. At first, she would just stay for a few minutes, just checking in on his healing.

But then, she starts to stay. She brings food, needing to eat after her shifts and opting to do it with him. Once—and he thinks it’s a turning point for them—she shows up after a twelve-hour overnight shift with breakfast sandwiches for both of them, then dozes off in the chair beside him as he watches game show reruns. It’s not until he turns to her to make a joke about Richard Dawson’s need to kiss everyone that he realizes she has fallen asleep, her head back against the wall and her arms crossed over her chest.

In this moment, with a soft smile spreading across her peaceful face, Killian realized that he’s falling in love with her.

--- --- ---

After five weeks, he’s allowed to leave. Sure, he’s on a lot of pain meds, he’s not allowed to drive, and he’s staying at David’s apartment, but he’s out of the bloody hospital.

It’s at least a start.

In David’s car on the way home, spread out across the back seat with Emma in the passenger seat, Killian asks the only thing that’s been on his mind for the past few weeks, too afraid— ashamed? —to even ask.

“What happened to Liam's body?” he says softly, and neither of them answer at first, making him think that he didn’t actually say it, or they just didn’t hear him.

Until he watches them look at each other, sharing a glance that Killian thinks they didn’t want him to see, especially the distressed look on Emma’s face.

“David?” he asks when neither of them move to respond, but it’s Emma that turns around and sets her hand on his arm.

“We, uh,” David tries, running his hand over his face. “He was so marred, almost beyond recognition. You—you saw the picture, Killian. And you were already in such distress, we were trying to let you heal, so we had to decide what to do and we—we had him cremated.”

Killian leans his head back against the leather headrest, closing his eyes as he lets out a long sigh.

“Good,” he breathes, and when he opens his eyes again, Emma is softly smiling at him from the passenger seat, but her smile doesn’t make it to her sad, green eyes.

The day they decide to put Liam to rest, it’s overcast. Killian feels like it must be some sort of sign, standing on the dock between David and Emma, David's arm around his shoulder and Emma's hand clasped around his own, the jar of Liam's ashes in his arm.

Liam always loved the sea, always wanted to grow old and pass away asleep on the deck of their fishing ship.

Yeah, he should be so lucky.

“Here she is,” Killian says, looking out on the water where the Jewel of the Realm is docked. “Liam's pride and joy. The Jewel of the Realm .”

Emma's hand tightens around his, leaning into his side.

“Do you want to take her out?” David asks after a moment, thankfully pulling Killian out of his head, wrapped up in the sound of the water lapping against the side of the boat.

“What?” he asks, turning towards David.

“Do you want to take the boat out on the water? Or just… get on her, I don't know how to word that?”

“No, we can… We can take her out,” he says, the words coming out slowly.

“Are you sure?” He expects the question to come from David, but it doesn't; it comes from Emma, and when he turns to her, the brightness of her eyes in contrast to the greyness of the day is the beacon of light that he needs in his day.

At that moment, he thinks she loves her more than ever before.

If only he could tell her.

“Aye,” he breathes, releasing Emma's hand to reach out and remove the lock. “It's only right.”

They do take her out, only a few hundred feet, making sure they don't lose sight of the lights above the docks through the mist, and shut off the engine.

He holds Liam in his arms, the jar growing cold against Killian's touch.

There's a metaphor in there somewhere, he knows it, about his dead brother and the life leaving him. If he could think about anything other than the last picture he saw of his brother, beaten and battered at the hands of Neal Gold, then maybe his muse would work enough to create it.

But no. All he can see beyond the lifeless horizon stretched out in front of him is that last picture that Neal sent him, Liam barely recognizable from the damage that his face and his torso took.

“You didn't deserve any of this,” he says softly, turning his eyes down to the gold jar he's cradling in his arms.

(He knows its an urn, but there's just something about that word that he hates , that makes him have to swallow the bile that rises up his throat, have to shake off the shudder that inches its way down his back.)

“You were always a much better man than I was, brother. You were the one who deserved to live, who didn't bury yourself in the past. I should never—I should never have asked you to look into her death.” He feels his breath grow shaky, unable to stop the tears that gather in his eyes, especially once the wind blows in off the water and into his face. Even if he wanted to, he's not sure that he could. “All of this is my fault,” he says finally, and the dam breaks as he falls to his knees on the deck, still holding the jar against his body as if his life depended on it.

(In this moment, it just might be the only thing tying him back to the deck. The feel of the jar in his arms, and the hands on his shoulders, one David's and one Emma's, both standing silently behind him as he is able to grieve for the first time.)

“It's all my fault,” he says again, allowing the tears to fall down his face, his sobs so deep that they cause his entire body to rock. “I'm sorry, brother. I've let you down.”

“Oh, Killian,” Emma sighs, and he realizes that she has knelt down next to him, and all he can do is turn to her, tears still running down his cheeks. She wraps her arms around him, pulling his face into her shoulder, and he feels David gently pull the jar out of his arms before hugging him from behind, also now kneeling on the deck behind him.

Most of his life, his brother has been all he had, after their father left when Killian was just a toddler and their mother died when Killian was twelve, leaving him and eighteen-year-old Liam completely alone. When he realized that he had cost Liam his life, he had convinced himself that he had lost the only family he had left.

But being here, between David and Emma on the greyest, gloomiest day he could remember, on the deck of he and Liam's ship as he said goodbye to his brother for the last time, Killian realizes that maybe, even though Liam is gone, he doesn't have to be alone anymore.

It takes a few minutes for Killian to realize that Emma and David are crying, too, grieving for his brother just as he is, and somehow, that becomes a comfort to him, allowing him to begin to calm. Killian is the first one to stand, the hardwood of the deck doing its damage on his already damaged body, and Emma and David follow suit, smiling at each other as they wipe the tears from their windburned eyes.

They had decided earlier not to put all of Liam in the water, leave some of him to rest on the Jewel , the place where he was truly the happiest, so when the wind dies down, Killian nods to both of them, unscrewing the lid and dumping some of the ashes into the wind.

“Your brother was a damned good man, Jones,” David says, none of them taking their eyes off of where the ashes were taken away by the wind, but he wraps his arm around Killian's shoulder nonetheless. “But he never would have followed through with the investigation if he hadn't believed you were right. You know that, right?”

Killian turns to face his friend, pulling his eyes away from the waves, and though the best he can do is attempt a smile, it's better than nothing. “Thank you, Dave. That—that means more to me than you may ever know.”

He may not be okay right now, and he doesn't really expect it in the near future, but at this moment he can sense it may be possible, on a distant horizon, and that's just the start he needs.

--- --- ---

Sitting at the counter in his apartment later that week, the only thing he wants to do is drink. He wants to pick up his bottle of Captain, finish it, and wake up from the nightmare his life has become. Because none of this can be real.

He just came here to grab some of his belongings, the presence of Liam still too real to be dealt with yet, but he could only go so long without his own clothing, his own belongings, his laptop, his work .

Besides, while David and Mary Margaret insisted it was fine, there were only two and a half months left until their baby is due, and it was going to need the nursery they had almost finished furnishing when David moved Killian's spare bed in.

He would have to move out of there by some point.

“Want to tell me what's on your mind?” Emma asks, and he realizes that she must have been watching him as he got lost in his own head. Again.

Turning to her, his lips pull themselves into a momentary smile, and he reaches across the counter to take her hand.

He hasn't told her how he feels, afraid that once one emotion comes out, everything that's hidden behind it will also come tumbling. But the time they have spent together can't mean nothing to her. She hasn't turned away to touches like this, has even initiated many of them on her own. Holding his hand, touching his cheek, even falling asleep with his arm around her on David's couch a few times since he came home from the hospital two weeks before.

If he ever doubted it before, he knew for certain by now that he was incredibly, terrifyingly in love with her, with the way she joked with him, unafraid of being herself even around him as he healed; with how she would pull the whole onion out of her onion ring on the first bite then slowly eat the rest of the batter; with how together she could look before going to her shift, no matter what time of day it started, and with the way you could tell she was exhausted when she came home but never ceased to take his breath away with her beauty.

“I'm going to need a new apartment,” he replies, needing to tear his eyes away from hers before he said something he would come to regret, so he turns away from her to face the living room. “The ghost of my brother can haunt the Jewel as much as he likes, but I don't think I could stand living in an apartment where he lingered around every corner.”

“There's an open apartment in my building,” she says, and he turns back around to face her just as the edge of her cheeks begin to darken with embarrassment. “Mine and David's,” she tries to correct before taking a quick sip out of the glass of water in front of her. “It's closer to your office, too.”

“If you wanted me closer to you, darling, all you had to do was ask,” he teases, but it only makes her blush grow deeper.

“You wish,” she replies, trying to sound as cool as she can, but he can tell the effect he's had on her.

So he leans across the counter between them, the edge digging painfully into one of the bruises still healing on his ribs, and smiles at her. “Perhaps I do,” he whispers, but before she can respond, he turns away from her, crossing the living room in a few long strides and entering his bedroom to collect his things.

The ride back to the apartment building is a quiet one, Killian finally deciding to check his work email as Emma drives, and then she insists on carrying his duffel bag to the elevator, arguing that too much strain on his shoulder will keep it from healing.

She's a paramedic. She would know.

He doesn't even try to argue with her, but for some reason, once they get into the elevator, the air around them changes, turning into something heated, electrical, and Killian swears if he were to reach out and touch the metal walls, sparks would fly. But he doesn't try, doesn't do anything but stare straight ahead as the numbers above the door count up to six, and follow her out the door and to David and Mary Margaret's apartment.

When Emma lets herself in, they find them sitting on the couch, Mary Margaret's head resting on a pillow in David's lap, something on the TV but looking only at each other, talking soft enough that they can't hear from the door. They both have their hands on her baby bump, and whatever they're discussing, they don't realize Emma and Killian are there until he closes the door behind him. They both snap their heads towards the door, noticeably worried for a moment until they realize who it is, but Emma just rolls her eyes and walks around them to the spare bedroom, dropping the duffel bag on the bed and spinning towards Killian as he deposits the rest of his belongings beside it.

“Want to go out to dinner?” she asks, the words tumbling out of her like a waterfall, and at first, his eyes go wide, eyebrows shooting up his forehead. It's practically the first thing she has said to him since their conversation at his apartment, and though he desperately wants to know what brought the thought about, he does not want to turn her down.

“Of course,” he says, trying not to sound too thrilled by her asking. “Just the two of us?”

Emma blushes again, pushing her blonde curls behind her ear. “Yeah. Just—just the two of us, if that's okay?”

“Of course, love. And I'm not complaining, but might I ask what brings this about?”

“They just… look so peaceful out there, and they haven't really had a moment to themselves for a while, so I want to give them that.”

Oh , he can't help but think. It has nothing to do with him and everything to do with the burden he's put on her brother.

She must see the change in his face, since she steps closer to him, smiling up at him through her lashes as she sets her hand on his arm. “Not that I don't want to spend time with you.” Her voice is soft and so sincere that it can't be a lie. “That's just a bonus.”

He returns her smile, slowly reaching up to cup her cheek in his hand, running his thumb across it. “Let me get changed,” he says, and her smile widens against his palm.

“Perfect. Me, too. I'll meet you at my apartment?” she asks, and all he has to do is nod before she turns away from him, closing the door behind her. He hears her through the door as she tells David and Mary Margaret about their plans for the night, hears Mary Margaret as she tries to argue with Emma, but knows that Emma comes out victorious since there's no reason for them to turn her down.

Because she's right. Since Killian was taken to the hospital—hell, probably since Killian first told his brother his theory about Neal Gold, David hasn't had much time to spend with his wife. Late nights at the precinct are enough on their own, then add in the extra time David has been spending with Killian, first in the hospital and now that he's living in their apartment, and Killian realizes just how much the Nolan's have done for him.

How much they continue to do.

He decides that within the next few days, he'll start looking for a new apartment, maybe even looking into the one in this building, especially if things go well with Emma. Carefully buttoning up his black shirt, he realizes that maybe he should talk to David about dating his sister before he actually tries to do it. Of course, Emma is her own person, is free to date whoever she wants—he can almost hear the way she would argue with them about it—but he still feels the need to at least inform the man whose apartment he's living out of that he plans to ask out his sister. Maybe even do it tonight.

He comes out of the bedroom, his new bag of toiletries in hand, but David meets him before he can make it to the bathroom.

“Is this a date?”

He can't tell by the look in his eyes what he wants the answer to be, if it's an innocent question or an interrogation.

But since Killian doesn't know the answer himself, it's not really that big of a deal.

“I—I don't think so.”

“How do you not know?”

“She just asked about going to dinner. I didn't ask her to define what exactly she meant by it.”

“Do you want it to be a date?”

Somehow, this question seems more dangerous than the first.

Killian can't stop his hand from flying up, his fingers finding the spot behind his ear that somehow always itches when he's faced with an embarrassing situation. “I… yes, I do.”

He tries to say it as strongly as he can, only faltering at first, but when David's face fails to respond at first, he's momentarily terrified that somehow, he's chosen the wrong answer.

Until David's face breaks out into a wide grin and he wraps his arms around him in a hug, which takes Killian a second to reciprocate.

“That's excellent, Jones! She likes you, you know? And I had a feeling you liked her, too.”

“Well, you were right.”

It's only a few more minutes until Killian is standing outside the door to her apartment, two floors up from David and Mary Margaret's, his hair combed back, teeth brushed, extra deodorant applied.

When she answers the door, she's in lighter jeans than usual, and a tight black sweater, her hair up in a high ponytail.

“I'm not quite ready yet,” she says, never stopping once she opens the door to let him in, heading first for the bathroom for just a few moments before rushing out of there and into the bedroom. “Make yourself comfortable! I'll just be another minute or two.”

He tries to sit on the couch, he really does. But it does not last for more than a few moments, the adrenaline from his conversation with David still coursing through his body, and he stands up once more and begins a slow sweep of her living room. She doesn't have much in the way of decoration, just a few pictures, mostly of herself and David and a few with Mary Margaret in the mix, some with other people that she thinks must be coworkers. Against one wall, she has a shelf full of books, an odd mixture of classics, poetry books, and medical journals. He is still browsing the titles when she emerges from her room once more, her hair now hanging down over her shoulders, her lips stained a bright red, and black ankle boots on her feet.

“Ready?” she asks, coming up behind him at the bookshelf, and he turns to find her a few inches taller than normal because of her heels, close enough to him that he can see the flecks of gold in her eyes.

“Ready,” he responds, trying to hide the fact that his throat has gone dry, and she picks up her red leather jacket and leads him out the door.

She picks a restaurant not far from the apartment, a small Italian place that's not too fancy, but that serves more than just pizzas and sandwiches. After just a few minutes, the waiter comes to take their order, and she gets the seafood scampi while he settles on chicken marsala.

When the menus are gone from between them and Killian can finally focus on the way the low lights of the restaurant compliment her face, he leans across the table towards her, making sure to keep his folded hands just beyond contact with hers.

“Do you want to know something interesting?” he asks and waits for her to look back at him before he continues. “Before I left the apartment, your brother asked if we were going on a date.”

“What did you tell him?” she responds, almost too quickly, also leaning in towards him.

As cooly as he can, he shrugs. “I told him it was just dinner, a chance to give them some time to themselves.”

“Oh,” is all she says, leaning back in her chair.

He pauses for a moment, then continues. “But then he asked if I wanted it to be a date, which I thought was a little weird.”

“And?” He can almost hear the way her breath catches with the word, searching his face for some sort of answer.

He smiles, leaning as far towards her as he can without getting out of his seat. “I said I did.”

She smiles back, finally, reaching between them to cover his hands with her own. “Good,” she breathes.

“What about you?”

“Jury's still out,” she jokes, but squeezes both of his hands, her smile growing.

Dinner passes quickly, both of them revealing more about themselves than they somehow had already in the months they've known each other, definitely more than they've ever revealed on a date before, especially a first date.

But it didn't feel like a first date. After all the weeks they had been spending together, first in the hospital and then not, it feels almost as far from a first date as a first date can get.

But when they get back to her apartment and he slides his lips against hers, pressing her back against the door, tasting the white wine and tiramisu on her lips? That's about as good as a first kiss can be, both soft and passionate, and Killian uses it to tell her everything he hasn't been able to over the last few months, how grateful he is for every moment she decided to spend with him, how important she had become to his healing process.

When they finally part, the remainder of her lipstick smeared across their swollen lips, his bright blue eyes blown wide, all he can do is say her name, breathing it against her lips, against her skin.

But she breathes something very different: “Please.” It's a request for more, asking him to stay beside her, but most of all, it's a plea to take her to bed, to do something about all of the feelings they have had to ignore.

He gives her everything she wants and more, thanking her in as many ways as he can think of before slowly, finally filling her, his body crying out in more ways than one, and he lets her take control of them, as gentle as she can be as she returns what he gave her as well as she can.

He wakes up beside her in the morning, a tangled mess of sheets and pillows and bodies, and he can swear that he's never been happier in his life, even with all the horror that brought them together.

“I love you,” he whispers against her hair, pulling her closer to him, and he believes her to still be asleep until she groans, leaning into the warmth of his body and whispering it back, pulling his hand to her mouth to gently kiss it.

“Now go back to sleep.”

#cs ff #captain swan #cs fics #my writing #wordsbymeganmichael #tw: assault #hurt/comfort #ouat #ouat ff #whump #killian whump #and lots and lots of feelings #tw: character death #(yes im sorry its Liam I regret everything)

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gregbaumann-blog1 · 5 years

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Breaking Bad

That would have been a great title for my book if it wasn’t already taken. But I’ve come up with a better working title for this project. The title I came up with several years ago was “Serving Sentences” based on the fact that I first started putting this story to paper after finding my old high school buddy, Spencer Clauss, in prison and becoming pen pals over the next four years. On my first visit to see Spencer in prison several months after finding him, I made a pact with him that I would write him a letter for every letter he wrote me from prison. This began a four-year period of Spencer and I trading stories on a monthly basis and “serving sentences” to each other (pun intended) as we had agreed. Sadly, Spencer never heard the end of this story due to liver cancer, which claimed his life on June 4, 2018.

I started looking for Spencer after attending my 30th high school reunion in Seguin, TX in 2007, and asking some of our old pals if they had heard from him or knew anything about his whereabouts. The rumor among my pals was that Spencer was dead following a heroin overdose “a while back.” That seemed perfectly plausible, but I wasn’t satisfied with that answer until I could verify it as fact. I did all the usual google searches trying to find my long-lost buddy, but came up empty-handed. I gave up trying to find him for several years, when out of the blue, I had a hunch to do an inmate search on the Texas Department of Criminal Justice website. I typed in Spencer’s name and found him instantly - it was that easy - I just wished I had thought of it three years earlier. I also learned that he was in prison for the third time since high school. This time, it was for attempted robbery with a firearm. He was nine-years into serving a mandatory 20-year sentence with no parole. Spencer wouldn’t be a free man again for another eleven years, meaning that he’d be 66 years-old. After the horror of spending just one night in jail after being framed by Yvonne, I couldn’t imagine waking up in Spencer’s shoes. I still can’t.

Spencer was my first life experience of having someone close to me break bad. We met when I was 14 years old shortly after moving from Dallas to Lake McQueeney (just outside of San Antonio). Spencer was 15 and going on 25. He grew up on the South Side of San Antonio (which had a reputation for being a tough part of town), and he already had enough life experience to write a book. I was a square, straight-A student from a Catholic grade school in Dallas. I had been an alter boy and a boy scout, and up until I met Spencer, I had never uttered a curse word in my life. Spencer was fluent in cursing. He articulately used the word “fuck” as a noun, an adjective, a verb, an adverb, an exclamation, and a prepositional phrase, depending on the context he was making use of the word for. This impressed me, despite the fact (or maybe because of it) that English was my favorite subject in school.

Spencer had gotten in trouble living with his mother on the South Side, and already had a rap sheet as a juvenile. His mother sent Spencer to live with his dad on Treasure Island, an affluent community on Lake McQueeney, in the summer of ’73. That was the same summer my family moved to Treasure Island, and it wasn’t long before I crossed paths with Spencer. Everything about Spencer was “cool” - from hIs hair (he wore a dirty-blond afro), to his voice (he was articulate and he had a smooth delivery), to his clothes (bellbottoms were the rage and he wore them with swagger), to his personality (people tended to gather around Spencer, especially girls), and last but not least, to his motorcycle (a blue Honda SL100). With all that going for him, Spencer had me at “hello,” not to mention that I had a Honda SL100 of my own (mine was green). Spencer and I bonded over our otherwise identical motorcycles, and became best friends and riding buddies overnight.

Its no secret to my Facebook friends from Seguin that I was a “head” in high school. If you’ve seen the movie “Dazed and Confused,” you’ve seen the movie of what life was like as a “head” at Seguin High School in the mid-70’s. This is where being a Gemini helped me. Gemini’s are said to have twin personalities. I think of it in terms of being like a chameleon and being able to switch “colors” instinctively in order to blend in with your surroundings. This gave me a natural talent for maintaining separate identities, one for my parents and one for my friends, and being able to make a seamless transition between the two. Thus, I had my parents fairly convinced that I was still a goody-two-shoes even though I was hanging out with a certified juvenile delinquent and quickly learning his trade. As a freshman and sophomore in high school, I could ingest just about any mind-altering substance and still present myself as “normal” to my parents and teachers. This would keep me out of trouble at home and at school for the most part because, unlike some of my friends (and especially my brother, Randy), I functioned pretty well stoned and didn’t “knock off” (the 70’s term for looking stoned). I would lose this ability around the age of 17 (which is when I decided to go straight), which is when my friendship with Spencer fizzled out as quickly as it started. By my Junior year, Spencer had gotten into so much trouble around Lake McQueeney that he was on my parent’s shit-list and I was banned from hanging out with him. As a result, I went to elaborate measures to maintain my friendship with Spencer and stay under my parent’s radar. We would hang out on “the street” before school, go to lunch together (which usually consisted of a reefer followed by a honeybun and chocolate milk), and hang out at his dad’s house across the lake after school when my dad was out of town, which was often because he was an airline pilot. Spencer’s dad (Spencer Clauss, Sr.), was married for the first two years of our friendship, but when Cathy divorced him, he hit the bottle pretty hard and stayed out late chasing women every night while Spencer, Jr. and I drank his bourbon and got stoned.

Things took a dramatic turn for the worse when Spencer made the regrettable error of breaking into the Ski Lodge twice (a private club on the lake that both of our parents were members of). He got away with the first break-in, but he got busted for the second, and his dad and step-mom got kicked out of the lodge as a result. This caused great embarrassment to Spencer’s folks and precipitated their divorce, and it led to Spencer being “Public Enemy #1” in the eyes of the community. It also led to the aforementioned ban (by my parents) on our continued friendship. It wasn’t as easy to spend time with Spencer after the second lodge break-in, and he began hanging out with older losers and getting deeper and deeper into drugs. It finally reached a point in our senior year that I had a “come to Jesus” talk with him about where his life was headed if he continued down that road. He didn’t want to hear any of it (which he confirmed on one of our prison visits), and when I told him on New Year’s Eve of 1976 that I was getting stoned with him for the last time that night, and that I was going straight when the sun came up, he told me he didn’t want to hangout with me anymore if I was going to be “uncool.”

When school resumed after the holidays, I had changed into a new man and no longer hung out on “the street” before school, no longer hung out with my “head” friends, and no longer got stoned. I wouldn’t hangout with Spencer again for another 37 years (2014) when I started visiting him in prison…

To Be Continued…

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96thdayofrage · 5 years

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Jeffrey Epstein is an extremely wealthy hedge fund manager. He has served on both the Trilateral Commission and the Council on Foreign Relations. However, Mr. Epstein is also a convicted pedophile, who is registered as a level-3 sex offender, the highest level of sex offender in the state of New York. This is because he was convicted, and served time, for paying a 14 year-old girl for sex at his home in Palm Beach, Florida. But this elite deviant is much more than a simple sex offender.

Overwhelming evidence clearly demonstrates that Jeffrey Epstein was trafficking underage girls for sex. He should have received a mandatory twenty-year prison sentence instead of the puny thirteen- month, work-release program that his lawyers plea-bargained for him. But, it’s awesome to have political connections to both Bill & Hillary Clinton. And it’s super-awesome to be able to afford to have the celebrity lawyers such as Kenneth Starr, Alan Dershowitz, and Roy Black, on your legal team.

Epstein’s wealth and political connections meant that he could cut a special deal that allowed him to travel freely on his private jet and to work anywhere that he wanted for 16 hours a day, while only having to spend eight hours per night in a separate housing unit at the county stockade. So what, if Epstein kept underage sex-slaves on his 72 acre private “Orgy Island”, in the U.S. Virgin Islands; and so what, if he raped three, twelve year-old girls, who were flown in from France to his island for his birthday.

That didn’t stop attorney and Senator, Hillary Rodham Clinton, formerly of The Children’s Defense Fund, from keeping a $50,000 political donation that she received from Jeffrey Epstein in 2006, while he was under indictment for trafficking children for sex. But Jeffrey can well-afford to splash around millions in cash to places, like Harvard, which refused to return his $30 million donation even though they knew of Epstein’s indictment.

According to the official flight logs, Bill Clinton, who has had his own under-age-girls’ sex allegations, flew 26 times on Mr. Epstein’s private, bed-equipped Boeing 727, cynically named the “Lolita Express.” Mr. Epstein even claimed that “he was part of the group that conceived the Clinton Global Initiative” (CGI), a subsidiary of the pay-to-play Clinton Foundation, which has raised over $2 billion (See, Clinton Cash on you tube).

According to leaked Swiss Bank records, Bill’s friend, Jeff, sent $3.5 million to the Clinton Foundation “after an underage sex-slave probe of him began.” Did that ‘bribe’ have anything to do with the leniency that Epstein received for the most serious charges that he faced? Having influential friends can often mean getting immunity from the serious consequences of your elite criminality.

Then, we have the stalker, Donald Trump, who had this to say about serial child-rapist, Jeff Epstein, back in 2002: “I’ve known Jeff for fifteen years. Terrific guy! He’s a lot of fun to be with. It’s even said that he likes beautiful women as much as I do, and many of them are on the younger side.”

Trump and Epstein, along with starstruck tycoon, Tom Barrack, were a tight set of “nightlife musketeers” back in the 1980s and ‘90s. Since the release of Trump’s lewd “locker-room” admissions, we can all imagine what this elite pervert is capable of with women. At least 14 of his adult sexual-assault victims have come forward with their own harrowing stories of unwanted sexual aggression. In 2016, charges were re-filed by a woman, who maintains that in 1994 – when she was 13 years old, the same age that Trump’s daughter Ivanka was in 1994 – she was raped by both the “Don” and Jeffrey Epstein, at Epstein’s Manhattan mansion. She has two corroborating witnesses. She also has alleged that the “Don” threatened to have her and her family killed if she talked.

Multi-millionaire influence peddlers, like the Clintons, who have their very own piggy-bank foundation, and billionaires, like Trump and Epstein, all reside inside the clubby bubble of the elite 1%. There, the “Don” and “Slick Willy” get to play golf in a foursome with former NYC mayors, Giuliani & Bloomberg.

“Dead-broke” Hillary gets to reside in Trump Tower during her carpet-bagging transition from D.C.-Little Rock to New York, so that she can become a senator on her planned journey back to the White House. Then, both Clintons attend the marriage of the “Don” to his latest trophy bride at his posh Mar a Lago resort (I imagine that Jeff Epstein was also an honored guest at this wedding).

Yet, there are still too many self-deluded voters who have an instinctual need to believe that self-serving, narcissistic, sociopaths, like Trump and the Clintons, when they get elected, will serve the people instead of themselves. Kool-Aid, anyone? Tastes great!

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brigdh · 6 years

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Reading Wednesday

The Pride of Chanur by C.J. Cherryh. A space opera more concerned with ethics and friendships than battles and politics. The Pride of Chanur is a merchant ship crewed by the Hani, a lion-like species in which the females are in charge of trade and diplomacy while the males stay back home and fight one another for control of powerful households. Captain Pyanfar is on a typical trip, docked at a trading station, when a strange, naked alien that looks like nothing she's ever seen (though readers will quickly recognize it as a human) runs onto her ship. Another species, the Kif, soon demand its return, but Pyanfar refuses, as much because she dislikes the Kif and is happy to annoy them than for any deep reason. That choice lands her and her crew in escalating danger, as the Kif are determined to get the alien back and will declare war to do it and other species are drawn into the conflict. A great deal of the book is about the difficulty of translation; even with long-contacted species like the Kif, the Hani are forced to communicate in short, broken sentences and deal with deep cultural differences. With the humans, they're starting from the ground up, and matters like gestures, clothing, and food are as prone to misunderstandings as language itself. How do you even tell the difference between an sentient alien and an animal, if you have nothing in common? I loved this sociological part of the book. Unfortunately, I didn't like much of the rest of The Pride of Chanur. I didn't connect emotionally with any of the characters, I found the descriptions of space travel deeply confusing, and I have no idea at all how Hani society is supposed to function. For example, it seems like the male fights over households are supposed to be one-on-one, but then we're given a description of a whole crew invading and pillaging an enemy house. Is that illegal? Are there laws regulating these fights? What does a new male leader mean to the daughters and sisters of the former ruler – are they cast out too, or do they just have to obey a new boss? All of this is pretty important to the climax, but I just couldn't figure it out. The Pride of Chanur has its positives, but I don't think I'll be reading the sequels unless someone talks me into it. Cibola Burn by James S.A. Corey. The fourth book in The Expanse series, and so inevitably this review will contain spoilers for previous books. After the events of Abaddon's Gate , humanity suddenly has access to thousands of solar systems, most with inhabitable, Earth-like planets. And yet in a very believable, petty example of human nature, we're fighting a war over just one. The Cibola in the title is metaphorical; it's one of the mythical 'cities of gold' the Spanish conquistadors searched and killed for in their early days in the New World. The idea of being beyond the law, of pillaging fortunes from a new land, is a major theme in this book, and Cortez and his methods get name-dropped at least twice. A group of refugees, homeless after Ganymede was torn apart by war, riots, and alien monsters, settle on a planet they name Ilus. At the same time, the UN grants the Royal Charter Energy corporation the exploration and exploitation rights to the same planet, which they've named New Terra. This immediately sets up several consequential questions that no one has the answer to: since the refugees beat RCE to Ilus/New Terra by a year, do they have rights of priority? Does the UN even have the authority to give out contracts over these new planets? Where do Mars and the Outer Planet Alliance stand? Who owns the lithium ore the refugees have already mined and transported into space? And since the rest of humanity is months or even years away from Ilus/New Terra, can anyone stop RCE and the refugees from killing each other before politicians settle the matter? James Holden and the crew of the Rocinante are sent in to act as mediators, since a) Holden is, by this point, a popular celebrity, and b) as an Earth native and former OPA operative, he can be seen as neutral. Unfortunately matters quickly grow beyond his ability to control them, particularly when the defense system set up by long-dead aliens wakes up and adds a third front to the killing-everyone campaign. As always in The Expanse series, we have a set of new POVs. Unfortunately this time I didn't like any of them as much as usual. Holden repeats again, and our others are Basia Merton, Elvi Okoye, and Dimitri Havelock. Basia was formerly a minor character in Caliban's War, the father of one of the other kidnapped children. His son died, and in reaction to that Basia has become fiercely, perhaps stupidly, protective of his surviving family. They are some of the refugees, and Basia's grief leads him to make several dangerous choices when confronted by the RCE. He's a sympathetic character, but I just didn't find him as captivating as Avasarala, Bobbie, or Pastor Anna. Havelock was also a minor character before; he was Detective Miller's partner in Leviathan Wakes. Now he's second-in-command of security for the RCE. It's just too bad that his boss is Murtry, a straight-up sociopath who doesn't care how many people he has to kill to give RCE an advantage. Havelock explicitly says that he's overly influenced by the people around him, and so goes along with Murtry's plan for far too long. As a character arc, this did not work for me at all. There is some suspense in waiting to see if Havelock will grow a spine and do the right thing, but it's not nearly as intriguing than if he was genuinely convinced of Murtry's ideas and had to change his mind, or was in some sort of physical danger that prevented him from helping the heroes. Finally, we have Elvi, an exo-zoologist working as part of RCE's science exploration team. More than anyone else, she understands Ilus/New Terra and how very different it is from Earth, despite superficial similarities. She makes several important discoveries that save lives, but she's dangerously naive regarding politics and human relationships. She also falls desperately in love with Holden and begins to act like a besotted teenager; this is believable as a reaction to the stress and life-threatening circumstances she finds herself in – and the narration does make it clear that's what's happening – but it was still somewhat annoying to read. It was hard to take her seriously as a respected professor when she was blushing and stammering over her crush. Overall, I didn't like this book as much as the previous ones in the series. It just wasn't as exciting and the characters weren't as likeable. On the other hand, I did really enjoy the found-family vibes between Holden and his crew: Naomi, Amos, and Alex. (Which reminds me: I forgot to mention the AMAZING scene in Caliban's War where Holden literally proposes marriage to the whole crew. He's half-joking, suggesting it more as a way for them to easily become co-owners of their spaceship than to actually enter into a poly romance, but I still loved it.) We have Amos nearly murdering people when Naomi is taken hostage, Naomi issuing vicious threats when Alex's safety is endangered, and Holden going to new extremes to protect Amos. It's just a whole circle of love and family-of-choice and it is my very favorite trope. I'm totally giving this book an extra star just for that. In general, Cibola Burn is a step down in quality from previous books, but I'll still be reading the sequel. How Not to Kill Your Houseplant: Survival Tips for the Horticulturally Challenged by Veronica Peerless. A really excellent how-to guide for houseplants, possibly the best book on the topic I've ever seen. It's split into two halves, with "The Basics" offering general tips and "The Houseplants" giving specific guidance on 119 common species. How Not to Kill Your Houseplant is aimed towards newbies, but it also included tricks that were new to me, such as how to save an overwatered plant by wrapping its soil in newspaper. I particularly liked the troubleshooting offered in "The Houseplants"; it explains, for instance, that yellow leaves on one plant might mean it needs more water, while yellow leaves on another species might indicate that it's getting too much sunlight. It's easy to look up your specific plants and get tips on how to best care for them. How Not to Kill Your Houseplant is available as both an ebook and a physical book, but I'd highly recommend the physical book. It's beautifully laid out, with a collage-like style that mixes photographs and abstract cutouts. A great book for anyone who raises houseplants, 'horticulturally challenged' or not! I read this as an ARC via NetGalley. One Way by S.J. Morden. A sci-fi thriller set in the near future: 2048, to be exact. Mars has been visited, and it's time for humanity to build a permanent base there for the ease of future astronauts. But how to do it? Robots are expensive and prone to breaking down, whereas human labor is even more expensive and when they break down there's likely to be lawsuits from family members. Xenosystems Operations, the company who has contracted with NASA to build the base, hits on the perfect solution: convict labor. After all, it's not like they can escape; they'll be on fucking Mars, and there's not a lot of spare oxygen or rocket ships for them to steal. XO runs a private prison in California (named Panopticon; subtle, Morden), so all they have to do is select a team of seven people with life-sentences who are willing to serve the rest of their time on Mars, give them a few months of training, and send them on a one-way journey – even once the base is built, they'll be a need for maintenance and janitorial services, since astronauts have more important things to do than unclog drains or charge batteries. In exchange, the prisoners get work they can be proud of and a bit more freedom in their daily lives. Frank is our narrator and main character. Sentenced to life for murdering his son's drug dealer, Frank is a former construction worker, an obviously useful background. He and his team of six other prisoners, each with their own specialities (transportation, plumbing, electricity, computers, hydroponics, and a doctor), plus an XO employee to be their guard/boss, quickly find out that XO has cut every possible corner to save money. They have no redundant supplies in case of wear or mishap; broken or missing necessary parts; barely enough food to get them through; problems with producing their own oxygen, water, and power; and not enough training for emergencies. Unsurprisingly, this quickly starts to take its toll, and people die in easily preventable accidents. Except by the third death, Frank suspects that they're not just accidents – someone on the team is deliberately murdering the others. He has no one he trusts, help from Earth is months away, and in the harsh environment of Mars the smallest mistake can kill, so Frank is left to figure out the murderer by himself before he's the next victim. Morden is an excellent writer of tension; there's several wonderfully dramatic scenes involving characters in spacesuits running out of time on their oxygen supplies that were heart-pounding and thrilling. Unfortunately he's not a great author of mysteries. The murderer is SUPER obvious, so much so that it makes Frank look dumb for taking so long to figure it out. At the point where Frank discovers a bunch of empty oxycontin packets around the murderer's bed and still doesn't think it might be him, I had to groan out loud. (Of course, being a drug addict doesn't make one a murderer, except that this is totally the kind of book where it does.) I also had problems with Morden's science writing; I think he expects his average reader to know more about space than I, at least, do. There was a lot of techno-jargon I didn't know, and I never could manage to picture what the base Frank and the others built was supposed to look like. On the other hand, I am highly predisposed to like a book that's this critical of the use of convict labor for corporate profit, and the excerpts scattered throughout of XO's private communications really make it clear how far down the path of evil a bit of greed and pure capitalism can get you. Hooray for a nice dose of contemporary politics in my escapist reading! I do want to note – because I didn't know before reading it – One Way is not a stand-alone. A sequel is due out soon. Nonetheless, One Way ends at a good point, with almost all of the plot threads wrapped up. You won't feel like you've gotten only half of the story if you read this book alone. I read this as an ARC via NetGalley.

[DW link for easier commenting, if you prefer]

#books #book reviews #james s.a. corey #cj cherryh #S. J. Morden #gardening #the expanse

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wakemany · 7 years

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Hi Welcome

Tina Small is christian . Roberta Pedon is Irish

September 15, 2015

Uncategorized

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H I SToRM FRoNT– ERS – Edited Letter i Sent to Don blacK —–— To Don BlacK : I did snail mail in past . TLH Syracuse , Rev RaY Indiana , RNPA LocK port , said m Y “ Litter With paper ” plan has merit .

silence . No more chat rooms , Yahoo clubs . SF is the only outlet . Not Reddit .

silence . Edgar Steele , innocent NSM leader in prison . The day may come When even you Will be silenced .

my plan – small groups , paper is hard to stop . Do “ exploits ”, “ instruct many ”, truth – lives on !

not gonna stop gov’t agenda immigration . Fact . next best alternative ?

Women are suffering . Ask Shoshana Roberts . What else is Working ? TonY

Read more if you Want …… start of my plan

I saw an angry White girl with her arms extended and walking away and turning around at times and telling him off and a black dude following . A pastor once told me repeat = abuse !

I saw this several times , but another White lady told me – “ trying to ignore that person , but they just follow and talk ”.

I saw a friendly black turning around to see if a White girl was still there . sneaky slowly trying . What to do ? Page 1 oF 14

Try TEACHING STRATEGY… Racism is socially learned – babies Know nothing . Ask – is it learned ? Then it should Work !

What a time consuming pain ! Joining KKK ain’t working , right ? Your current “ Wake up ? ” strategy is – nonsense . pointless .

but – education won’t stop the bleeding . No – but it Will slow it down .

1. organize , 2. Wear gloves to hide fingerprints , 3. litter cars ( Windshields , homes , streets ) With paper + dvd’s ( old movies )… simple …. If you are Fed up

A new advertising strategy . Perhaps you “ racists ” will Light the Way to advertise secretly . Pioneers in “ exploits ” = sneaky stuff ? INSTRUCT MEANS MORE THAN JUST TELLING . INSTRUCT MEANS PAPER and TIME .

The people Who Know their God Will be strong and do great exploits . And those of the people who understand shall instruct many … Daniel 11 : 32 – 33 . There is always a Few who understand …

maybe this letter has something to do With what christians Will do non violently in the Future . So , most effective Way is to do it privately ? small ? publicly ? big ? maybe small and sneaky LiKe exploit christians is best .

Decentralized KKK and no independent media ( it is controlled , except a bit of internet ) maKes PERSONAL UNDERSTANDING ( Daniel those among the people Who understand ) or LOGIC , REASON more important . if you agree .

unLiKe WiKipedia , this site Will not change . it is up to you to decide what the correct strategy is and to learn to thinK strategically . Read my gov’t letter below . As always – if you agree !

STRATEGY 1 – Logic strategy – blondes Wouldn’t exist . don’t need bible or history . duh ! blue eyes , red hair do exist . Why ? Kinda important – logic + requires only 1 sentence.

STRATEGY 2 – EXPOSE MEDIA BIAS . Leaving Los Angeles . South Africa silence . Again , it supports the argument that We are being Lied to .

Spy Who Shagged Me painting KKK as Evil ( Dr . Evil on Springer’s show ). Star Wars has important Women + blacks ( Windu , captain , Billy Dee ) , but main actors are still White !

Back To The Future has important black mayor + Anti – arab . examples from MODERN DAY movies sooo blatant that it exposes itself .

+ in movie “ Thank You For SmoKing ”, THEY ADMITTED that Hollywood deleted smoking scenes from classic movies .

STRATEGY 3 – Kings of the East + the End . Why did these 2 threats to the White Race ( Seeds oF men mingling and Kings of East ) happen only in the “ Last days ” ?

MENTioN – chinese gov’t told businesses not to serve blacKs or Mongolians during 1988 Beijing olYmpics . i thought Asians were Mongolian . Go Figure . crazy – but …

not Just gov’t , but Chinese people protesting in Nanjing – Get blacKs out . not Mongolians .

What happens if china Wins ? or Worse . If china does not show up ? many angry Whites today .

Wouldn’t this Kings of East strategy maKe Asian White marriages more Acceptable ?

Yes , but , it Would maKe Zebras more unacceptable . Hmm … there are pros and cons .

WHO CONTROLS THE GOV’T TOMORROW ? Either Way , you Lose if you marry blacK – Permanently , political Law is stronger than social Law .

Who says most believe the Bible ? LiKe i said , Christians do exist . it doesn’t hurt to mention bible stuff Anyway .

Just don’t bring Nostradamus into this – a Land bridge Would give china access to America . He also predicted – Russia and America are Kings of the North , a New Earth and NYC gets nuked .

STRATEGY 4 – include PICTURES From the more recent C R movement , S A Farm murders – A PIC SAYS 1,ooo Words and makes racism more personal , real , tangible . Fastest is paper ( in steady chunKs and not Just boring text .

STRATEGY 5 – I Would NOT advise this , it is contrary to using bible . But old saying ,“ Sex sells ” maKes me thinK advertisers sometimes avoid this on purpose .

STRATEGY 6 –” A moving target is harder to Hit “- they said in Waterloo Bridge ! select different communities , not Just one metro area or state . on different nights . Keep police guessing ! cry WolF create diversions 1st ?

STRATEGY 7 – KNoW THE ENEMY Beware of going into or near big companies ( Hospitals , Zoo ) or gov’t buildings or downtown . carnivore exists . only if connected to internet . Beware of new computer technologies .

About Walkie talkies – echelon exists . use “ suspicious ” encoded Words – could be Worse . cell phones can be used as a tracking device. credit or library cards leave an electronic trail . CARS have GPS . Surveillance cameras all over . Face recognition technology exists .

A Team – Find a person Who can refill ink Jet cartridges . Saves money in the long run . + a computer expert to download . WORK PROFESSIONALLY .

Have an escape plan . PRACTICE – duffel bags ? Need to refill . There is a “ learning curve ”. Someone to drive van ( materials are heavy ) . go potty 1st . Need watchers .

Still you looK LiKe a thief ! Even before distributing , buying certain ( i.e., Remote control ) items on Ebay could raise a flag .

A drug dealer on the news operated in a rural small town because there is LESS OF A POLICE PRESENCE and used video cameras in front door and escaped out back door .

HOMEWORK – Know which routes you are going to “ Hit ”. A “ lone wolf ”, instead of a “ cell ”– even gov’t refers to these terms to describe terrorists .

Even if you think you have done enough homework or practise , Life has a Way of reminding you of your shortcomings .

Iron on letters onto shirt ? You are stupid to advertise racist beliefs . You are trying to do it secretly . What if the gov’t infiltrates and offers stupid plans , such as …

It Was once suggested that separate militia should all Join together . In my opinion , the gov’t infiltrated and tried to offer a stupid suggestion . one that Would expose them for arrest .

“SMALL” STRATEGY 8 – be Weary of making the group big , as the militia have learned to be Weary . Page 2 oF 14

Even iF caught , What’s Worst that could happen ? J Edgar Hoover didn’t care about KKK . only communist Party .

gov’t doesn’t care about racial literature , only political . proof – other race sites exist . i.e., stormFront . militia is enemy Madeleine Albright said .

There are other violent + unethical + political strategies I thought up , such as booby trap mine the graffiti – explode harmless paint ? sKunK ? Strategy 9 . Which I intentionally Left off my Site , should the gov’t persist on stopping mostly race literature .

movie Sound of music – Activity suggests a LiFe Full of purpose . What activity does not WorK ?

Politics never WorKs . Kuchinich and Trump called voting a Rigged Game . + Kuchinich was leading on internet based polls .

Politics never WorKs . Immigration increasing year after year .

What does a Rally or demonstration or protest accomplish ? or signing petitions ?

Long – Lasting Graffiti accomplishes the same thing – it shows that racism exists – Without the necessary manpower and effort . Much cheaper than billboards too .

STRATEGY 9 – Low RisK SHORT SENTENCES – I’ve heard of KKK buying billboards before . use airplanes LiKe they did in Iraq . drop leaflets . Too heavy ? Remote control ? Beware oF going into hobby shops .

is it effective ? ADL Website encourages FolKs to send in photos of racist graffiti ! “ Race matters – bible Samaritans are out ” – I prefer over “ I hate Asians ”. SHoW THAT RACISM EXISTS ! or use marKers indoors . Page 3 of 14

KKK’s ” sporadic ” leaflet strategy only tells people that the KKK exists . So much more potential . Proves KKK is ABLE & WILLING to distribute .

Possible to use a “ gun ” to launch material , “ Flinging ” LiKe newspaper boy ? Yes , but police may get Wise to seeing VANS at night . bicycle With painted Wheels to paint sentences all over ?

The pro is better than lazy . Generally , the more sophisticated ( GREAT exploits ) , the greater the results . Example – Temporary Radio sites , get Remote control From other countries , placing pre – made newspaper outlets , — gotta thinK !

gov’t could make people afraid of unleft pacKages by coming up With stories on the evening news .

do this – LEAVE IT TO BE FOUND . it Would be expensive and many Wasted non – hits . but less RisK …… You looK LiKe a thieF ! is a problem that this could neutralize .

STRATEGY 10 – When distributing , include my ” How to ” strategy plan – Your efforts could multiply and SelF propagate all BY ITSELF .

KKK never required strong leadership . KKK exists in Brazil and India also . WiKipedia said KKK grew Whenever social tensions arose and Waned Whenever they loosened automatically . KKK is human nature . It could ignite by itself , couldn’t it ?

Super major “ Legit ” strategy 11 – use bible … Jesus ate With sinners , SAMARITANS , Lepers . all contagious , and affects those Who are not infected . Women too

Sinners . “ protect your Rep ” Tax collectors Were Jews Who collected taxes From other Jews and gave it to the Romans .

blacks Were “ sold out ” by black slave traders ( in Africa , not the ships – Packed Like sardines . Titanic sank Whites got Killed – public outcry ) .

In movie , ‘ It’s a Wonderful LiFe ’ – “ You Know Mr . Gower ? ( a “ sinner ” outcast pharmacist who poisoned a Kid ) you must be a Jailbird yourself . Throw them out ”.

on TV , a Lady saw O. J. Simpson getting yelled at one day . She said “ imagine What LiFe is LiKe everyday ”

Vivien Leigh commits suicide at end of ‘ Waterloo Bridge ‘ because she had a dancer’s Rep .

Jesus crossed social Line into Samaria and could’ve died . He crossed physical Line and Walked on Water . LiKe cursing Laws oF gravity .

Samaritans Were outcasted . Assyrians invaded israel and intermingled . Racial half – breeds .

Lepers – in movie ‘ Ben Hur ’, people ran away . There was a ‘ Valley oF Lepers ‘ and black circus performers .

… but most are guilty – magic Johnson pleaded on TV , “ people say ooh and shy away From me . don’t do that ”. imagine Life for him everyday

WiKi article ‘ Leprosy stigma ’ – says “ Forced segregation … commit suicide ’, Families Were affected …

In movie ‘ Philadelphia ’, he was innocent and got it from a blood transfusion . They said “ a social death preceeds a physical death ” For HIV people .

Women’s suffrage at turn of the century. in bible , there Were concubines . Read in newspaper , Iraqi Women afraid of Saddam‘s son , Odai .

in Roman days , Women Were treated a tad better than animals . Aren’t “ honor Killings ” still committed iF they embarrass Family ? and Arab Women Wear veils .

constitution and bible says all men are equal , and Yet bible says all men Rich poor Free slave have to accept mark of the beast .

That a man is innocent until proven guilty , yet Joseph Went to prison for raping Potifa’s Wife .

blacks changed their mind and said “ progress ”. They Knew abstract equality can’t exist . Page 4 of 14

Moses married a Cushite and God had no problem . Miriam said “ LooK what he did ” = “ is he crazy ? ” People do care . if Joseph was innocent and we free all rapists in prison , society will Fall apart . Also , Joseph couldn’t eat with his brothers because he was Egyptian .

“ Right to bear arms ” 2nd important amendment and Well regulated militia is NECESSARY . Malcolm X urged all blacks to get guns .

Not all blacks think that Way , but there are those that do . Haiti – “ Whatever you do to us , We do to you ! ” TanKs on MLK’s birthday . President Charles Taylor – “ They owe it to us ! ”. Tulsa got bombed From the Air . War ! Surrender at Tulsa – and die after colFax massacre .

constitution was written by christians who wrote it in abstract terms ( ForeFathers were wise ) ON PURPOSE – Knowing that in reality , it doesn’t worK that way . You can put bible away – abstract concepts apply only to God .

in reality , the needs oF MANY outweigh needs oF FEW , or the ONE – Star TreK Khan ! but Lot was the only ONE in Sodom and the Famine in Israel happened because oF a FEW Gibeonites . it taKes time to explain things LiKe ABSTRACT..… but it is relevant .

Lights don’t LiKe darKs in a movie by important director SpiKe Lee . Who “oppresses ” poor ? Apostle Paul said, the Rich . When poor become Rich ? they oppress also .

darKs become Lighter ? mulattoes were Killed on Haiti . American blacks don’t LiKe recent arriving immigrants from Africa . india .

clarify – 1,000 years ( 300 Arab + 700 White ) of slavery is not oppression – it is ForsaKen . God deals with people on relative time basis because people are relative .

God’s LAW . 1 suffers . The other doesn’t . Then the 1 who doesn’t suffer suffers – until they die . it is oK unknowingly . not oK Knowingly .

Social LAW . it’s simple – 1 is in . 1 is out . in the 50’s 60’s , it was social suicide to go public . congressman Strom Thurmond had a half Kid he loved , but Kept it hidden .

Answer is simple . gotta obey society . everything is socially defined – naKed , purple orange car , Wear socKs on hands

Emmett Till whistled at a white woman and got lynched . but he wasn’t “ SUPPOSED TO DO THAT ” – socially defined . His pals hightailed it outta there . They Knew .

Michael Richards of Seinfeld did use the N Word and the crowd all got up and left . not “ supposed to do that ”.

Mrs . obama said , “ I am a black woman from the south side of Chicago and i’m not supposed to be here ”. In her own Words .

if a leper walks out of the Valley of the Lepers and tries to mingle with healthy people , who’s wrong ? is he acting “ out of place ” and “ asKing For it ”. Page 5 oF 14

LEARNED – babies don’t Know right hand from Left . Nobody hates when they are born .

go bacK 6o’s TV – Gomer Beaver G Acres munsters Adams Fam Jeanie car 54 Fav martian 3 Sons A Griffith T Zone Howdy d Lost in Space Flipper – All White

70’s movie ‘ Walking Tall ’ ( With Joe Don BaKer , not Re – maKe ). ( and it’s based on a true story ) , 3 White men walKed into a black bar and blacks became quiet .

There was a prostitute in ‘Walking Tall ’ who helped the sheriff “ good guy ”. in bible , the prostitute Rahab helped the good guys ancient israelites . How real

bottom line – Why do they mingle , but not CLEAVE together – because it goes AGAINST human nature . beauty ugly ! interracial is not oK . maKe it cleave . it won’t . Why not ? it don’t work that way .

on New Earth , animal nature – Wolf and Lamb Feed together . isaiah 65 : 25 …… malcolm X’s dad’s 3 brothers died VIOLENTLY at the hands oF white men … All 3 , in 3 separate incidents .

Torture was Known as “ breaking ”. break a horse . Pavlov “ conditioned ” his dogs . stop torture and blacks start Fighting bacK – in numbers in Summer oF 1919 .

Torture is learned . Animals want to be happy . get angry , sad . Native American slaves stopped maKing babies .

Human same as animal nature . WiKipedia said whites couldn’t control themselves when they saw blacks with guns after the unpopular – draft dodgers back then – New York City draft Riots ) Civil War .

black dude walking up to Michael Richards at Laugh Factory couldn’t control himself . LiKe animal .

confused ? but human nature – ALWAYS WINS IN THE END . unless gov’t is controlled by someone else . After 6,ooo years , India got rid of caste system , politically , for the 1st time ever in 1950 .

but whole communities are still segregated in India . caste system is not a solution . it only slows it down . not stop it . a solution is supposed to worK . Why Keep it ? Next best alternative ALWAYS WINS IN THE END .

use bible – Jews and Samaritans had no dealings with one another. WiKi said in ‘ Civil Rights Movement ’ article – “ blacks and whites would have to sit next to each other — a simple yet revolutionary act ”.

Leonard Maltin said something similar in Little Rascals Vol 21 intro – “… Kids playing together wasn’t done then ”.

cut people’s heads off and put it on a pole in Ninevah . Jonah hated . WiKi said after slave revolts , blacks same thing cut off head put on pole .

history books are not always true , on purpose or accident . Hard to verify most but not FAMOUS HISTORY – but if it fits bible . probably true . Fame Killed o J Simpson . can’t move . Fame .

Michael Richards said “ 50 years ago we had you upside down with a ForK down your butt”. verify history ? truth ?

Mention Famous then – oprah 1st ever black billionaire – out of how many who preceded ? , Powell – 1st ever black Secretary of State , 44 Presidents were white men . Page 6 of 14

They are burning whites with hot irons in Africa today – WiKipedia said that blacks were branded . They say in Africa today “ all Boers are dogs ” – WiKi said “ many parKs barred them with signs that read “ negroes and dogs not allowed .” if they’re doing the same in Africa, then it’s probably true .

Reasons – 1 History . His Story . 2 Africa surrounded by water . 3 Live next to consistently strong , but never super strong Arabs ( Persia silver , Babylon gold , Magog Arabs ) . 4 Always WeaK . 5 Travels all over the World ( slavery ) – and suffers . 6 Just as much black blood as white 1.1 billion in Africa . 7. Asians Won + people thinK in terms of night day salt pepper , not thicK hair Asians are opposite of thin hair black + India 1 billion . LiKe Pat Buchanan “ endless cycle ” of violence .

not true . nothing lasts forever . nuKes 1940’s + Hiroshima . chemical weapons WW 1 . industrial Revolution = pollution . Soon super pollution Christians say Wormwood – 1/3rd of waters becomes bitter .

technology – cars horses , trains canals , bulbs Fire , photos paint , Fridge ice . christians are correct . Whites getting ugly only in END .

IF THIS CONTINUES , Spike Lee said you have to “ move over ”. WiKi said there was always violence in India . S F said We are the voice of the new embattled White minority .

Council of conservative citizens said “ What’s happening in South Africa will happen here in America ..… my Kids !

After the NWO , blacks are Lucky ? Kings of the East showed up ? china can’t walk on water . What about UK , Australia ? ThinK – Pharaoh used a containment strategy and threw male babies into the N i l e River .

Race is a matter of LiFe and death . AsK the Native American Indians . mexican American WAR . SA murders .

but it is “ criminal ” to outcast because of race UN said . it is if you thinK about it . but HISTORY FITS BIBLE – concubines , monarchies , Lynch mobs – Stephen was stoned . They publicly hung criminals in America long ago . They crucified in the bible – naked . Public humiliation is outlawed by constitution .

There were no “ bankruptcy laws ”. You lost all you had back then – debtor’s Prison .

IN BIBLE ( monarchies most stable Form of gov’t ) + in movie ‘ Wizard oF oZ ’ + Audrey Hepburn movie ( I Forget ) , there were European monarchies . No more monarchies after WW1 . media labels it “ dictatorship ”.

Most are simply CONFUSED . When Israel airlifted ( 1st class + expensive ) Ethiopian Jews , Israeli gov’t said ( once they arrived – IT WAS “ CONFUSED ” + it took Israel over 20 years ( since 1948 – in Feb 1973 ) to even recognize Ethiopians .

Word For Word , according to “ Ethiopian Jews in Israel ” WiKi article – “ Which was and still is mainly subjected to political developments in Israel .”…… gov’t is still thinking ! even to this day .

Ashkenazi ( European ) don’t LiKe Sephardi ( From Middle East ) Jews . Pat Buchanan don’t LiKe arabs either . or Messianic Jews ( christians ) try to convert my Kids ( contagious ) .

Messianics live in Israel way before Ethiopian . Race precedes religion to society . WASP . White precedes Anglo Saxon precedes Protestant .

Lepers were separated to PROTECT THE INNOCENT. it’s more important ( to Forefathers ) to free Joseph , rather than punish Potifa’s Wife . outlaw interracial – protect the innocent . but our gov’t doesn’t .

People LIE – Jews of Weimar Republic thought they were “ more German than Jewish ”, but they got Killed . Latinos think they’re American , but segregated communities exist.

Explain WHY. gov’t ! if whites rule , Why bring in Eastern and southern Europeans in 1890’s ? Japanese after WW 2 ? Latinos 1990’s ?

SLOWLY – Show progressive ! – it would implicate that NWO existed long ago . Even before the civil Rights movement , Whites are getting uglier – blacks ain’t winning because of CR .

i discovered that the NAACP was started by Jews . Attorney general Amos Tappan Ackerman . CORE – Goodman Schwerner . Scottsboro boys – Liebowitz .

STRATEGY 12 – Explain Women . Jesus ate With . suffrage movement + Femi – nazi’s – again – in 1960’s Pat Buchanan said – progressive .

You could have 2 Wives in Asia . They have 2 Wives in the Middle East today . in bible , Abraham had 2 Wives ( Sarah and Hagar ) . media labels it ‘ bigamist ’.

Pakistan leader Bhutto was 1st Female leader of an Islamic nation – ever ! Albright 1st ever ! Woman Secretary of State . Thatcher and Golda Meir are the iron ladies of UK and Israel – not

STRATEGY 13 – Explain consequences … Kids are Kids . At school . Malcolm X was told by a teacher “ being a Lawyer is no goal For a N * LiKe you ”.

Kids and adults are cruel to those who don’t looK LiKe they do . “ dad , Why did you marry mom ? ” Now don’t say that about your mom !

“ I got into a Fight today dad ”. Why ? in mind “ Fight it ” blacks get into Fights ( i’ve heard this MANY times ) .

denny’s WiKi article – not serve black Secret Service agents . BoJangles Robinson was told to leave a restaurant once .

” Asian Jen and White Tina parent’s told me she couldn’t marry me last night . They absolutely refused . We broke up ”.

sigh …“ must Fight it . Fight society”. try again . “ son , maybe you should Just marry a black girl ”… hopelessness sets in . He grows older. It is learned over time .

Read in Plain Dealer : doctors prescribe medicine less often to blacks . Some blacks have good Jobs ( usually gov’t post office , RTA ) , but not most .

Plain Dealer said – generally , older Whites do NoT interracially marry . generally , younger do . Page 7 of 14

Rumors are public . black is public . People see and hear things . You can’t Just “ move on ” with your Life – unless you move , LiKe some slaves , not most , did long ago ( to nation of Liberia )

God said to Samuel – man looKs upon the outward appearance . I don’t . but people do . God said so . Fat , ugly people discrimination will not go away . Racism also .

Are blacks LiKe Joseph ? Right to be angry . Life’s not Fair . innocent . Killed . does that give Joseph the right to spread ( public ) rumors about someone ?

A song – LooK at all these rumors surrounding me EVERYDAY… tell him to pass a bill so that next time they catch rumors shoot to Kill ! Page 8 of 14

STRATEGY 14 – Promote british irish beauty , especially FAIR SKIN TRAIT . Show them Just how pretty and the irish are . Need pics . examples From sports , past – Just how british we once were . and BiG .

There is disparity . over time , people may be able to distinguish . it would lead to less tolerance to becoming even a little uglier … to the individual . Write it out LiKe I did – Faster learning curve .

black last names – no Stallone , SWarzenegger , Dimitri , East South European . getting blurry tho – Half brits .

Tall : Conan O ’ Brien , JFK , Ted Cassidy ( Adams Family ) , Fred Gwynne ( Herman Munster ) + Larry Byrd and Kevin McHale – definitely Boston Celtic . 3 actors – Liam Neeson , Tim Robbins , Chuck Connors .

NOTICE : FEW big latinos ( Statistically , many participate in Football ) . Munoz ? Just 1 , LiKe Bruce Lee .

Tommy Morrison ( Rocky 5 ) , Dempsey ( heavyweights , unLike latinos ) , Kevin McBride ( 100% irish . beat Tyson ) .

irish Mark McGuire ( home run King ) . latino canseco was never as big .

Dorian Yates ( brit . Mr . Olympia ) Eastern Honky Arnold was never as massive

+ Lee Haney never achieved success LiKe Arnold . Blades never succeeded LiKe chuck Norris or Van Damme .

Point – beauty is strategy of itself . Who is more beautiful than brits ? Haman tripped into Ester’s “ bosoms ”. boobs matter . KILL ABRAHAM . STEAL SARAH . could get husband KILLED – does matter .

Almost all uncensored ( by Cabin Fever only on VHS ) Little Rascals have the Kind of racial propaganda , but not historically inaccurate , the KKK LiKes – negative black portrayals . Which is also censored !

in other Words , 1. Song of the South or Rascals – take precedent over 2. Mary Poppins – british , but still not a Lie historically . This categorizing strategy – is – relevant , but not very important . # 1 Song of South , Gone With Wind .

# 2 BRiT + religion 2 For 1 deal : my Fair Lady , Waterloo Bridge , Chitty Bang . Expose immoral strategy – Proves that they removed religion + Fun !

Answer is no – 3 caballeros stereotypes Latinos , but does so in a romantic sort of Way . Naming gov’t buildings after blacks ? Bad – does so in an important Way . Streets , gov’t and utility buildings , bus stations are named after blacks . and holidays – Kwanzaa , MLK . Page 9 of 14

STRATEGY 15 – EXPOSE IMMORALITY . Some classics Were not released on dvd , or Were edited for moral reasons alone . not Just RACE LIES . GaY Lez too. + nudity

2 Timothy 3 :1-4 ( unedited KJV ) 1 This Know also , that in the Last days perilous times shall come . 2 For men shall be lovers of their own selves , covetous , boasters …

We are being lied to both racially and immorally should complement each other’s arguments . These are mostly old movies . important but ethics TAKES A LIFETIME of dvd learning .

I wouldn’t do this except short movie snipets – Actors praying , reading bible , etc . I’m not sure . maybe it is good to include the whole movie . LiKe Betty Boop , any old disney , RanKin Bass will do .

With a plastic dvd , I was worried about oily fingerprints . besides , movies are not concentrated education .

I would use at least 1 concentrated dvd – put all materials , if not more , on dvd . dvd’s can be replicated – could result in SHARING . movies in AVI Format on computer , but more people have dvd players VOB Format . or both . Page 10 of 14

STRATEGY 16 – DON’T GIVE UP – Leads to greater – UNDERSTANDING , LEARNING IS RELATIVE . KEEP DOING IT . Why did Hollywood ban movies , cartoons ? Answer : Racism is Learned .

History , segregation – say otherwise … don’t give up ! 6,ooo year India got rid of caste system for the 1st time ever in 1950 .

Don’t be intimidated by the length of my letter . overthrow gov’t … not gonna happen is it ? “ Terrorism ” is cheap – All it taKes is paper .

But it is gov’t who has Lied . The media – silence SA + LA = Lie . Right ? Wrong ? Blacks who used children ( children’s crusade ) – Who have crossed the Line . of right and wrong . Page 11 of 14

The KKK is MAYBE INFILTRATED ?, that the United Northern and Southern Knights asK on their Website – is it better to be smaller ? ) . By chance , I discuss this in my letter .

To Council of CC – When doing things publicly my letter Warns about Disney . is Baum Jewish ? Did any meet an untimely death ? No Jews in White groups !

Miriam complained about Moses marrying a Cushite + Women most often complain about interracial . Teaching strategy is perfect for WAU “ Women for Aryan Unity ” – as they say . non – violent become a Female race Litterbug !

because the KKK Was fragmented + decentralized in 1981 ( michael donald lawsuit ) , I used the Know the Enemy strategy to get many addresses – I visited SPLC + ADL enemy List ! could someone forward this to WAU ? and White sisters in particular

Accept uglier ? Lost the magic ? Lost Disney itself ! or a spoonful of sugar ( Fun , not hard , convenience striKe ) maKes the medicine ( distributing WorK ) go down . or preseal the material in a bag or envelope before distributing if you are afraid of fingerprints .

initially it taKes WorK . gather Which material ? staple it … Leave it , striKe at clothing store . Library . bathroom . shopping cart . go to new restaurant ! Page 12 of 14

—————————— Excerpt from WWW.resist.com/JOOMJournal/BITTERFRUIT.html ( it was sent to me from TLH central NY White Pride Syracuse NY )………

…….. What those bastard Jews have been WorKing toward for decades , and they’ve finally succeeded . Here in California and all other coastal cities , it’s commonplace now to see young blondes running With the ugliest damned plates Lips you ever saw . I’m flat astounded that these young Women Will turn their bacKs on good looKing , smart young White men to run With these animals .

Here again We see the fruit of Liberal \ Jew brainwashing . If you tell the public that shit smells LiKe a Rose long enough , there Will be a percentage of Fools that Will start to believe it ……….. and boy , are the Jews squealing LiKe stucK pigs . They hate it . For decades now they’ve outlawed spanKing , Labeling it “ cruel and unusual punishment ”………… SNIP ——————————————

You see ? Racism is learned + my ( Last ) don’t give up Strategy 16 Keep doing it strategy – it tooK Jews decades of brainwashing …… You see ? much thought Went into my letter .

many Roach – Era Little Rascals show spanKing or parental discipline – before it Was bought . + Vol 21 – best of all volumes and it is the Last one . At the introduction , Leonard Maltin admits that Hollywood used racial and ethnic stereotypes . —————————————————————— WiKipedia Keeps changing content so save the article onto your hard drive . As of Sept 23 , 2013 – WiKi said :

in “ Missing White Woman Syndrome ” WiKi – most often a missing person case , involving a young , white , upper – middle class ( frequently blonde ) woman or girl .

…………… Steal Sarah is Abraham’s sister Lie . Privately , Potifa’s Wife tried to seduce Joseph .

2 Samuel 13 : 1-14 – Privately , as she was feeding him , Amnon grabbed beautiful Tamar and raped her . Absalom murdered Amnon later.

I heard pretty White gals on SF complain about blacKs getting violent or touched sometimes – He Fondled me in daylight . Even Raping

Foreign Aid WorKers in Sudan .

other stories – He Fondled himself , touched my hip With his erect penis on subway , she undressed and tried to seduce me .

Another SF girl said , besides getting hit on and unwanted pushy help – occasional threats , occasional KnocK on the door “ I Want sex ”.

Another SF girl said – death threat ! … SneaKY threat tactics employed by -some – blacKs .

+ I saw on Youtube , a black dude threatening to punch a girl and demanding her phone number … prepare your daughters mentally Just in case

Enough is enough – Just do NOT GO TO PRISON – LiKe many guys write to ‘ White Voice’ from prison – cuz they are stupid …. Live to Fight another day !

Just WATCH and WAIT and do harmless SKunK bomb or paint to those Who move into White communities . That Would make me move !

in “ Atlantic Slave trade ” WiKi – The enslaved people Were tortured for the purpose of “ breaKing ” them ( LiKe the practice of breaKing horses ) and conditioning them …

in “ Dennis Kucinich ” WiKi – He also placed 1st in other polls , particularly internet – based ones . This led many activists to believe that his showing in the primaries might be better than what Gallup polls had been saying .

in “ Sexual revolution in 1960s US ” article – homosexuality was still widely publicly reviled , and more often than not was seen as a malaise or mental illness , instead of a legitimate sexual orientation . Indeed throughout the 1950s and 1960s the overriding opinion of the medical establishment was that homosexuality was a developmental maladjustment .

in “ Public humiliation ” WiKi – has largely fallen out of favor since the practice is now considered CRUEL AND UNUSUAL PUNISHMENT , which is outlawed in the US Constitution …. + crucifixion was used by the Romans to add public humiliation to A DEATH PENALTY .

in “ NAACP ” WiKi – at its founding , the NAACP had only one African American on its executive board , Du Bois himself . + Early Jewish – American co – founders included Julius Rosenwald , Lillian Wald , Rabbi Emil G . Hirsch and Wise .

in “ Second Reconstruction ” WiKi – statistically Jews were one of the most actively involved non – black groups in the movement

in “ Debtors ’ prison ” WiKipedia – Prior to the mid 19th century debtors ’ prisons were a common Way to deal With unpaid debt . Page 13 of 14

……………Today you can declare chapter 11 banKruptcy . You don’t have to pay bacK what you owe .

in “ Caste System in India ” article – There have been challenges to the caste system from the time of Buddha , [22] Mahavira and Makkhali Gosala .

+ The practice of untouchability was formally outlawed by the Constitution of India in 1950 ,

+ Violence against Dalits , almost always by other backward castes

…………… blacks never stop trying in US history also . Even Light skin blacks don’t LiKe darK skin blacks .

in “ Racism ” WiKi – Almost uniformly , people who are darker – skinned and of indigenous descent make up the peasantry and working classes , while Lighter – skinned , Spanish – descent Latin Americans are in the ruling elite . [32][33]

+ Race is one of the three characteristics most often used in brief descriptions of individuals ( the others are age and sex ) .

+ The mass demonstrations and riots against African students in Nanjing , China , Lasted from december 1988 to January 1989 . [131]

+ Bar owners in central Beijing had been forced “ not to serve black people or Mongolians ” during the 2008 Summer Olympics .

+ In Asia and Latin America , Light skin is seen as more attractive . [119] Thus , skin whitening cosmetic products are popular in East Asia [120] and India. [121]

…………… No matter where you go Lighter skin is higher – Asia , Latin America , india .

in “ Ethnic pornography ” WiKi – porn star Mariah Milano concluded that racism is still considerably rampant in the porn industry and it is often concealed by tongue – in – cheeK arguments LiKe female performers ’ personal preferences .

…………… Gay ( sinners ) , Lesbian , interracial Lies in MANY pornos today . Not Long ago , A MERE KISS ( 1st interracial Kiss on US TV WiKi Said ) caused a rucKus on Star TreK . or 1968 Petula ClarK touched Harry Belafonte’s arm on TV . Page 14 of 14

in “ Ku Klux Klan ” WiKi – big city newspapers were often hostile and ridiculed Klansmen as ignorant farmers . + Lessening of social tensions contributed to the Klan’s decline .

…………… newspapers were propaganda even bacK then . Lessening contributed – automatically . KKK is human nature !

in “ Racism in the United States ” WiKi – One of every nine black families has a close relative in prison over aggressive arrests done by US law enforcement.[105].

+ Mexican mafia Leaders , or shot callers , that they have issued a ” green Light ” on all blacks . This amounts to a standing authorization for Latino gang members to prove their mettle by terrorizing or even murdering any blacks sighted in a neighborhood claimed by a gang loyal to the Mexican mafia .

+ A HISTORY of gov’t – sponsored experimentation , such as the notorious Tuskegee Syphilis Study has Left a Legacy of black distrust of the medical system .

…………… even to this day , in Israel , Ethiopian Jewish Women injected With birth control by the Ministry of Health without their Knowledge . YOU COULD DIE – blacks Leaving Los Angeles . AsK michael donald – Killed at random .

in “ Driving While Black ” WiKi – The phrase implies that a motorist may be pulled over by a police officer simply because he or she is black , and then questioned , searched , and / or charged with a trivial offense . This concept stems FROM A HISTORY…

+ for many years doctors forced African American sickle – cell sufferers to endure PAIN because they assumed that blacks would become addicted to medication ; Time magazine Labeled this ” ailing while black .” [9][10]

…………… Explain consequences strategy – go to Jail , stopped by police – also . Long Live Rodney King ! Pain suffering . for your Kids !

Why WiKi debt prison ? History Fits bible ! Why Kucinich ? Expose media bias strategy ! it doesn’t taKe sophisticated info , does it ?

Did this Letter affect your racial opinions , at all ? If so , educate your Kids at Least . BY LAW your Kids can disobey parents and marry Whoever they Want . convince your family + extended – at Least … it’s your Family not mine .

I personally Knew a dad who PLEADED with his son not to marry a black girl . Had a talK with her … Kept talKing to him … up to the Last Wedding day BUT HE DID anyway . TELLING YOUR KIDS DOESN’T ALWAYS WORK . True story .

Afraid getting too pushy Will bacK Fire on your Kids ? or hope they Find out on their own ? Parents are confused on SF . I can maKe it clear – instruct teach .

many different opinions I read on SF – by example , ” Plant Seeds ” , explain guide , Learn from experience could be too Late . books . movies . use reason ( Logic strategy ) support With Facts . gently Little at a time . Watch TV With them . – ALL OF WHICH MEANS – INSTRUCT LIKE BIBLE SAYS ( use bible strategy ).

I read on SF – by example , make them proud of heritage – most of all . Teaching by example has a problem . Your Kids may misinterpret “ your example “. Perception is everything . What is to be proud of certain White Heritages ?

STRATEGY 17 – Teach many various curriculum . ANYTHING HELPS – ADDS UP to greater – LiKe Strategy 16 , UNDERSTANDING , LEARNING IS RELATIVE .

content curriculum . What to teach Kids ? FolKs on SF never thinK up these things – Abstract concepts , What is human nature , Women’s history – supports argument We are being Lied too , etc

FolKs on SF mention these things – Logic , media bias , use pics , expose immorality , use bible + History fits bible , consequences , Famous History – Famous individuals , etc

on SF , I don’t understand why talking about Hitler or holocaust has anything to do with racial awareness . Avoid nazi label with your Family . What about Jews ? I don’t Know

Today’s Leaflets and Flyers are WAY WAY too brief . If you are gonna distribute , which is RisKy , Why not have MUCH paper per striKe ? The Finder can choose not to read anymore .

others on SF do distribution also – Way too short in my opinion . I practiced – better to distribute over a WIDE AREA & over time . It Was a pain to travel .

In UNFAMILIAR , I Jeopardized myself on occasion . once a man asked me What I Was looking for and a terrible answer slipped out in Hospital .

Easier to Just leave it as I stopped along the Way looKing natural . Rule – never out of place . LiKe guerilla . I used the “ convenience striKe ” lazy method .

What is convenience striKe ? – don’t hide fingerprints . inK costs money . use your company’s printer lazy boy . don’t have to be pro .

When opportunities present themselves – always have stapled copies on hand . Either Way there is a chance of being caught .

Any method , besides INSERTS in clothing , newpaper , or library booK , and they maybe Will Know it Was you . The next day , I Went to same store or restaurant , and they Knew it Was me Who did it .

bathrooms are saFe as long as you read using toilet or leave it While PRETENDING to search through my backpack While using baby changing station .

You could use both the dvd + case With cover For 2 separate striKes . cannabalize your dvd collection ? both are in 2 sided sleeve together .

I’ve VERY VERY often pretended that it Was an accident as i PICKED UP MY BACKPACK TO LEAVE . Purses For gals .

I’ve had a Few people return to me “ohh you left something “. Just thanK them story . EYES ALWAYS WATCH , even at night . must pretend .

Some say Just Leave a LinK . Paper is more direct and sharable . No dvd player or internet needed . Who says internet Will exist tomorrow ?

There are no guarantees either . Your Kids may marry black anyway I heard on SF MANY times – until they become “ aware ”. You mean – convinced !

I’ve often read on StormFront – move . moving or going to a private school only decreases the chances of intermingling . Besides , blacks hit on Whites all the time . You can’t be there or Watch over your Kids all the time .

We are being bombarded by media . not Just schools . Teaching shielding is better than moving . or ALL 3 is better – move , school , teach .

HOW TO “ HOMESCHOOL” ? I saw 2 moms sitting down and reading a booK With their Kid at a restaurant that I Frequent . When I Was a Kid , my dad Would read With me . ” I’m so proud of you ” 1 mom + my dad said . Sit down With them .

Why I do this ? I want credit for coming up With these ideas . Literally I am 1 individual Who came up With a Teaching + Legit use bible + other ideas to help Whites .

Some folks on S F complimented . one S F girl PM-ed me – “ GREAT thoughts ! “ exclamation marK too .

IF You LIKE , IF You AGREE , IF You care about beautY – Post plan on S F or

IF You care about Your FamiLY , close Friends – Fast EasY WaY to trY to convince – email this site to them .

Should WorK – Another S F man Pm-ed – “ I visited Your Site . It’s GREAT “.

Who is right ? Wrong ? Lies ? Abuse ? She said no . They Keep doing it ? What is WorKing ? tinasm.com

Reminder – my site is not just teach strategy , but also use bible . convincing starts with Legitimacy .

God said to Samuel – man looKs upon the outward appearance . I don’t . but people do . God said so . Fat , ugly people discrimination will not go away .

Samaritans – Race matters in bible .

only in the Last days , they mingle , but not CLEAVE together – because it goes AGAINST human nature .

Joseph couldn’t eat with his brothers because he was Egyptian .

etc etc + HISTORY FITS bible

E N D O F R A C E S I T E

————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

because the domain is named after 2 Women ( can’ t change domain name ) , who were also mentioned in my gov’t letter , i must , as they say in Hollywood – have continuity . connect domain to the site’s relevance .

According to Fling , 2 of the most beautiful–est women who ever posed . Why do women need “ bosoms ” LiKe queen Ester – to Win a beauty contest , didn’t she ? Just how potentially beautiful can a White person get ? Fling + my site’s answer

goals – 1. To taunt british Tina Small‘s christianity . LiKe they said in movie ‘ Rocky ‘. To bring her out . The italian chicKen .

Tina – actually – prays in 1 pic ! ? Yet , she poses . only topless Justifies ?

I believe that the early Tina was real , not the Later . computer technology Was not so advanced in 1981 .

+ on internet , i heard people say they met or saw Tina in real Life . Also , for example :

country Walks round Faughcingcester http://www.thevalkyrie.com/picthumb/s/small/tour.htm

Site probably offends christians . is it a crime to have Tits ?

on ‘ Price is Right ‘, Bob BarKer interviews a busty contestant and audience laughs – she didn’t do nothing !

goal 2 . To prove Roberta is irish . All over internet , they say she is Latvian .

Another goal – maybe she will visit also . Kinda young when she posed . born in 1950 ? Tina + Sarah was still beautiful , even when old .

They say she’s dead , but who believes what they say ? After all , is Tina’s real name Tiny or small ? Logic !

https://it.wikipedia.org/wiki/Roberta_Pedon

says – eyes green … under various pseudonyms , including the most note ” melody o‘ Hare “,” Roberta Weaver ”,” mooschi “…

https://br.answers.yahoo.com/question/index?qid=1006052512976

says her nom de plume ” melody o‘Hare ” comes From the name of one of her best friends in Junior high school .

WiKi article ‘ pen name ’– a pen name , nom de plume , or Literary double …… may be used to… disguise …to distance … a pseudonym may be used to protect …

+ 3 magazine covers say her name was Robin .

Melody ? Robin ? was the most photographed Woman of her time . mountains of her pics exist . my point – beauty made her rich .

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if-you-fan-a-fire · 3 months

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“Hillsdale Prisoners Play Golf, Swim, and Build Parks for Public,” The Globe and Mail. June 26, 1964. Fourth Section. Page 39. ---- By LEX SCHRAG --- Inmates of one Ontario Reformatory play golf and enjoy their own private swimming pool.

A hasty word of explanation, before the hard-pressed taxpayer has apoplexy: these amenities cost him nothing. They may even save him a penny or two.

The golf course is a bit of fairway and a couple of putting greens scratched out of scrub-covered wasteland at Hillsdale Camp, a satellite of the Mimico Reformatory, 18 miles north of Barrie. The swimming pool is a wide spot in a creek that runs through the camp. The inmates built a dam and cleared the stones from the creek bed.

The same inmates have also built of improved nine parks in the townships around the camp. Residents of these townships gave them golf clubs and balls as a gesture of gratitude. Neighboring softball teams’ play at the camp. Hillsdale is accepted as a rather oddd but by no means unpleasant feature of the countryside, though the men who come there from Mimico are all repeaters. Hillsdale was built in 1956 as a Summer camp; after three years it went to year-round operation. Lieut. F. H. Bennett, in charge for the past year, is proud of the camp’s work record. The men built or assembled the bunkhouses, dining hall, and offices; they range far afield, cutting wood, clearing land, thinning and pruning provincial and municipal forests.

Lieut. Bennett is a tall, rangy man with a ready smile. He has four custodial officers and a truck driver on his staff. The inmates do all the cooking. There are no bars, no barbed wire, and no tension at Hillsdale. The custodial officer sleeps at the camp. If anything goes wrong, it’s up to the inmate fireman to wake up the officer.

The camp is heated with wood the men in their bush work. This means that in Winter one man is kept busy all night long, stoking. Yet only one inmate has walked out of Hillsdale - and he was found to be mentally deranged.

Few of the men who come to Hillsdale put in more than three months in the camp. Most of them are the sort who can no longer live in free society. They want somebody else to make decisions for them. They work reasonably well, but they won’t take responsibility. They show signs of claustrophobia, though, after a few months in Mimico. So they are sent up to Hillsdale, in the hopes that next time they step out on the street they will look after themselves.

The Ontario taxpayer may wonder why these men are not declared habitual criminals and turned over to the custody of the federal penitentiary system. One answer is, they are not dangerous. Another is, they would cost the country more as prisoners in a federal institution.

At the Ontario Reformatory, in Guelph, there are 900 to 1,000 inmates and a staff of 450; the inmate-staff ration in the work camps are substantially smaller.

No Canadian reform or penal institution is allowed to produce goods for the consumer market in competition with privately owned industry. The men in the work camps compete with nobody. They cut their own fuel, and, in a large degree, they look after themselves. They are still an economic liability, but the work they do benefits the public at large.

There is a friendly rivalry between Hillsdale and Camp Hendrie, eight miles away. At the moment, Hillsdale is one brick bathhouse in the lead, though Lieut. Fred Zanni at Hendrie claims the little log chapel his boys have built is a greater architectural triumph.

Lieut. Zanni is a dark, square-jawed man with the build of a professional wrestler. He has 26 years of service in correctional institutions, including at the Burwash Reformatory. He is not an effusive person, yet boys who have served sentences at Hendrie come back to see him and his wife, and bring their fiances and wives. He and Mrs. Zanni get an average of one letter a week from young men who have put in time at Hendrie.

The camp is under administration of the Ontario Reformatory at Guelph. It is for first offenders only, 16 to 20 years of age. It accommodates 40 inmates; it has a staff of eight. As at Hillsdale, the inmates do all the work, even the cooking.

The inmates cleared the ground and put up the buildings at Camp Hendrie. They are youths who have shown no interest in continuing their education and who have been deemed unlikely to benefit from the trades training courses at Brampton.

There is nothing but teir own common sense to keep them from walking down the road some dark night. Few of them do; a good many more of them are reluctant to return to Guelph for discharge.

The camp benefits the taxpayer, too. It isolates first offenders; its maintenance costs are lower than those of medium and maximum-security institutions, and the boys are willing workers.

Big project of the moment has been sponsored by the Barrie Chamber of Commerce. The boys from Camp Hendrie are reconstructing Fort Willow, a depot that was built during the War of 1812 in the vicinity of Camp Borden. To date, they have cleared several acres of scrub and put up more than 100 feet of palisade. Image Captions: TOP: As well as plenty of hard work, there is much play at Ontario Reformatory camp near Hillsdale, 18 miles north of Barrie. Inmate splashes in pool prisoners built themselves. In foreground, another carried playful pair of pet racoons on shoulders. Camp is for repeaters, who are from Mimico Reformatory.

BOTTOM: Residents of neighboring townships gave golf equipment to thank inmates for work in parks.

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iamastrongchristian-blog · 5 years

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Why Preaching Is Powerful

1. Preaching Attacks the Root of Man's Problem

Sin Is the Root of All Our Woes

The world is full of sinners on their way to Hell. No matter how good you are, your sins are manifest to God. Anyone who thinks he is righteous before God is suffering from one of the highest kinds of deception.

The only thing that gives us a right standing before God is the blood of Jesus. Unfortunately some teachings in the body of Christ have led to the deception that we are semi perfect beings who have a right to be in Heaven.

Let me give you a few examples of people I know you respect. You will notice that as they got to know God they became more humble and even uncertain of their standing with God.

The Apostle Paul graduated downward in his opinion of himself. He moved from being the highest of the apostles to the worst of sinners. This is real growth in humility.

i. First, he saw himself as not being inferior to any of the apostles.…

for in nothing am I behind the very chiefest apostles…

2 Corinthians 12:11

ii. He later considered himself as the least of these same apostles.

For I am the least of the apostles, that am not meet to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the church of God.

1 Corinthians 15:9

iii. After a while, he stopped comparing himself with the apostles and likened himself to the least of the saints.

Unto me, who am less than THE LEAST OF ALL SAINTS, is this grace given, that I should preach among the Gentiles the unsearchable riches of Christ;

Ephesians 3:8

iv. Finally, at the end of his life and in one of his last letters, he did not bother to compare himself to an apostle or a saint. He had concluded that he was the chief of sinners.

This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save SINNERS; OF WHOM I AM CHIEF.

1 Timothy 1:15

Job

Job was described by God as an upright and perfect man who eschewed evil. However when Job came into contact with the Lord he realized that he was actually a very evil person. He said, “I abhor myself.

”I know that thou canst do every thing, and that no thought can be withholden from thee. Who is he that hideth counsel without knowledge? therefore have I uttered that I understood not; things too wonderful for me, which I knew not. Hear, I beseech thee, and I will speak: I will demand of thee, and declare thou unto me. I have heard of thee by the hearing of the ear: but now mine eye seeth thee. WHEREFORE I ABHOR MYSELF, and repent in dust and ashes.

Job 42:2-6

Peter

The Apostle Peter was fishing one day when the Lord showed up. When he realized that the one standing by him was Jesus, he was filled with a sense of sinfulness and he said, "I am a sinful man". The presence of God always reveals our deepest corruption.

When Simon Peter saw it, he fell down at Jesus' knees, saying, Depart from me; for I AM A SINFUL MAN, O Lord.

Luke 5:8

Daniel

Daniel was a holy prophet greatly loved by the Lord. However when he came into the presence of the Lord, he said “my comeliness has turned in me into corruption”. Once again you see a holy man of God who realizes his sinfulness when he is in the presence of God.

And I Daniel alone saw the vision: for the men that were with me saw not the vision; but a great quaking fell upon them, so that they fled to hide themselves. Therefore I was left alone, and saw this great vision, and there remained no strength in me: for my “COMELINESS WAS TURNED IN ME INTO CORRUPTION.” and I retained no strength. Yet heard I the voice of his words: and when I heard the voice of his words, then was I in a deep sleep on my face, and my face toward the ground. And, behold, an hand touched me, which set me upon my knees and upon the palms of my hands. And he said unto me, O Daniel, a man greatly beloved, understand the words that I speak unto thee, and stand upright: for unto thee am I now sent. And when he had spoken this word unto me, I stood trembling.

Daniel 10:7-11

All this goes to prove that there is none righteous, no not one.

As it is written, There is none righteous, no, not one:

Romans 3:10

It is the presence of this pervading sin that is destroying the whole world. Sin is the reason for all the problems in the world. Sin is the root cause of all our woes. That is why preaching is the most important remedy for the problems of mankind. Preaching attacks man's problem at its very root.

Sin Leads All Men to their Death

Wherefore, as by one man sin entered into the world, and death by sin; and SO DEATH PASSED UPON ALL MEN, FOR THAT ALL HAVE SINNED: ( For until the law sin was in the world: but sin is not imputed when there is no law. Nevertheless death reigned from Adam to Moses, even over them that had not sinned after the similitude of Adam's transgression, who is the figure of him that was to come. But not as the offence, so also is the free gift. For if through the offence of one many be dead, much more the grace of God, and the gift by grace, which is by one man, Jesus Christ, hath abounded unto many.

Romans 5:12-15

Death has passed onto all men because of sin. The sin in our lives leads to death. The Bible also says when sin is finished it brings forth death.

Then when lust hath conceived, it bringeth forth sin: AND SIN, when it is finished, BRINGETH FORTH DEATH.

James 1:15

Death is the inescapable end for all human beings. The very fact that we die indicates the presence of sin. Every time you see someone dying, remember that sin has completed its work. Death is the only natural consequence of sin.

Sin Is Behind All the Causes of Death

The presence of sin opens the door to all the known causes of death including the cancers, HIV, incurable diseases, sickness, accidents and old age. The diseases of this world can all be attributed to our sinfulness.As you will notice, none of the human attempts at helping mankind have eradicated the presence of sin and death. So preaching is the only solution that offers life to a human race sentenced to death.

In him was life; and the life was the light of men.

John 1:4

No hospital can promise you life. No medical cure can offer you life. The UN cannot solve your problem of death. There is a death sentence on all of us and only Jesus can give us new life. Jesus said, “I came that you might have life”.

The Death Sentence

I remember watching a documentary of a young man who had been sentenced to death in America. It was a sad and moving true story of this black man who was alleged to have killed a policeman. He denied ever killing the policeman and many people believed that he was truly innocent.

For six long years, legal battles raged, as lawyers, family and friends tried to get him off death row. Finally, his options ran out and there were no further appeals that he could make.

It was an amazing documentary. They filmed this man up until a few minutes before his execution. His family and friends were invited for a last dinner. They all gathered around and had dinner with him.

Finally it was time for them to go and they hugged him one by one till no one was left. He was then escorted to a private room where he had the opportunity to talk to his pastor and then to his lawyer. Within an hour, the execution had been carried out.

After the execution his lawyer and his pastor were interviewed. I remember in particular the question his pastor was asked.

“What was the last thing you said to him?” someone asked.

The pastor answered, “I told him that all of us were under a death sentence, the only difference is that most of us do not know the day of our execution.”

As I pondered over those words, I thought to myself how true they were. We are indeed under a death sentence. All of us will have to die whether we like it or not. It is just a matter of time till the sentence will catch up with us. It is only Jesus who can deliver us from this death sentence and give us new life. He said, “I am the way, the truth and the life.”

This is why preaching is so important. This is what differentiates preaching from all other kinds of human assistance. Preaching ministers life to condemned people! Jesus said, “the words I speak onto you are spirit and life.”

2. Preaching Releases the Power of God

For I am not ashamed of THE GOSPEL OF CHRIST: FOR IT IS THE POWER OF GOD unto salvation to every one that believeth; to the Jew first, and also to the Greek.

Romans 1:16

HE SENT HIS WORD, and healed them, and delivered them from their destructions.

Psalm 107:20

I once had a visiting preacher from Switzerland who made a remark about my church. He said, “Your church is like a giant youth group”. He continued, “There are so many young people in your church.”

Up until then, I had not really noticed that our church was full of young people. Initially, I thought it was not a compliment for someone to say that my church was full of young people. However, as time went by, I realized that it took the power of God to get young people into church.

You see, young people are full of energy and youthful lusts. There are certain desires that are found more in young people. When the church is full of young people, it is a sign that the power of God is present.

The police cannot change young people. Moral codes cannot restrict wild young men. The fear of going to prison doesn't even seem to inhibit people today. However, I know something that has the power to convert the most hardened sinner. Is it not amazing that people who would not listen to anyone parents, teachers or advisors are “arrested” by the Word of God and are changed forever? Truly, the preaching of the cross is the power of God.

From a very early age I have served the Lord. I have followed Him with all my heart. What could make a young man like me give up his profession and become a preacher? This is the power of God at work.

Preaching always releases power and that power has the ability to change people. That is why you must be a preacher. This is because preaching has the ability to release power.

3. Preaching Gives Hope

For whatsoever things were written aforetime were written for our learning, that we through patience and comfort of the scriptures MIGHT HAVE HOPE.

Romans 15:4

Many people come to church with hopeless and discouraging situations hanging over their heads. As the “Word of God” comes to them, discouragement and hopelessness are driven away. Like chaff before a strong wind, discouragement and desperation are forced to fly away. The preaching of the Word of hope keeps men alive.

The Mouse Survived because of Hope

I once read about an experiment in which a mouse was put into a deep bucket of water in a dark room. There was absolutely no light in this room. After about three minutes, the mouse drowned in the bucket.

A mouse of similar weight and size was put in the same bucket of water and in the same dark room. This time, a little glimmer of light was allowed to seep through. This second mouse kept swimming for about three days before it finally drowned. What was the difference between the two mice? The thin ray of light that the second mouse saw gave it so much hope. The hope for survival kept the mouse swimming. This is a wonderful story that illustrates how hope can keep a man alive until his miracle comes.

We hardly talk about hope, but without hope there can be no faith. Faith is the assurance of the things you are hoping for. As people receive hope through preaching, faith is built up.

4. Preaching Saves Lives.

For after that in the wisdom of God the world by wisdom knew not God, it pleased God by the foolishness of preaching TO SAVE THEM that believe.

1 Corinthians 1:21

God has chosen that by the foolishness of preaching, people should be saved. Preaching saves lives.

The Anointing of Jonah

In the last days, the anointing of Jonah the preacher will be released on men. The anointing of Jonah was sufficient to convert hardened sinners to the ways of God. Nineveh was a city of wicked people and Jonah was initially afraid of preaching there. The entire city was eventually converted when Jonah preached. Jonah did not perform any miracles. He did not slay anyone in the Spirit nor did he have strange manifestations of the Spirit. However, he had a strong preaching anointing and it was strong enough to change an entire city.

I see that preaching anointing coming upon your life! You shall preach to thousands! Men's hearts will change when they hear you preaching. People will be saved when they come under your preaching ministry.

The book of Genesis shows us that people lived much longer than they do today.

And all the days of Enoch were THREE HUNDRED SIXTY AND FIVE YEARS:

Genesis 5:23

And all the days of Methuselah were NINE HUNDRED SIXTY AND NINE YEARS: and he died.

Genesis 5:27

And all the days of Lamech were SEVEN HUNDRED SEVENTY AND SEVEN YEARS: and he died.

Genesis 5:31

As sin increased, life became shorter. The Bible is very specific about how God shortened life from hundreds of years to one hundred and twenty years.

And the LORD said, My spirit shall not always strive with man, for that he also is flesh: yet his days shall be AN HUNDRED AND TWENTY YEARS.

Genesis 6:3

It seems life was shortened even further from one hundred and twenty years to seventy years.

The days of our years are THREESCORE YEARS AND TEN; and if by reason of strength they be fourscore years, yet is their strength labour and sorrow; for it is soon cut off, and we fly away.

Psalm 90:10

The earlier generations were having “four hundred year” birthday parties. They had children when they were hundred and fifty years old. Today we are overjoyed if someone gets to the age of eighty. By the time someone is forty, he seems to be an elderly person. Why has the body begun to give up so early?

And it came to pass, when men began to multiply on the face of the earth, and daughters were born to them, That the sons of God saw the daughters of men that they were fair; and they took them wives of all which they chose. And the Lord said, My spirit shall not always strive with man, for that he also is flesh: yet his days shall be an hundred and twenty years.

Genesis 6:1-3

900 years was reduced to 120 years because of fornication with the sons of God! Fornication shortened the lives of the people by 800 years. 90% of their lives were taken away because of fornication. The Bible declares “when sin is finished it brings forth death.” Think about that. Eight hundred years was cut off because of fornication. Do you see how sin shortened our lives?

As you can see, the problem is spiritual and not physical. That is why physical remedies cannot be the solution for mankind. It is a sin problem. And the solution is the preaching of Christ Jesus and Him crucified.

When “sin is finished”, the agents of death i.e. heart disease, lung disease, cancer, sickle cell disease, skin diseases, HIV, tumors, accidents, fights, kidney failure begin to make arrangements to kill us - whether by making the kidney stop, or by causing a car accident. Everyone has a different method by which the death sentence is carried out.

When Christ came to this Earth, He knew He was dealing with a complex problem. That is why He didn't just heal everyone. He knew that the problem was deeper. He knew why certain ailments had fastened themselves onto certain people. It was not just an issue of being ill. He knew that there was more to it than that!

When the Lord looked at our situation, He thought of the best way to help us, the best way to lengthen our lives. God planned the best way to save us from the things to which we were bound legally. That is why He came around preaching, teaching and healing. It pleased God that by the foolishness of preaching, He would save people.

Preaching and teaching solves your problems. First of all, your spirit is redeemed. You do not have to go to Hell anymore. Thank God that by the power of preaching, your soul will be saved from eternal damnation.

When preaching has powerfully saved your soul, other areas of your life begin to be affected as well. After the soul has prospered, your health will be affected by this salvation. Your financial life is also affected after the salvation of your soul. God's Word begins to heal and solve all problems from within.

Beloved, I wish above all things THAT THOU MAYEST PROSPER and be in health, EVEN AS THY SOUL PROSPERETH.

3 John 2

Thinking naturally, you realize that if a person decides to do away with fornication, he reduces his exposure to the HIV infection and therefore death. When you hear the Word of God, and decide to marry instead of running around with different people, you reduce your exposure to many diseases. Preaching and teaching saves our lives in many ways we cannot even imagine.

Because of the Word of God, we decide to stop smoking and drinking alcohol. This extends our lives automatically by many years. You are at far less risk from cancer, heart disease, HIV, gonorrhea and depression when you live in line with the Word of God.

A preaching tape can save your life. I believe in listening to preaching tapes. You will discover that the Word you get from the tape is “life to all who find it and health to all your flesh.”

My son, attend to my words…For they are life unto those that find them, and health to all their flesh.

Proverbs 4:20, 22

Expose yourself to preaching and you will be exposing yourself to many blessings. Jesus came preaching and teaching.

He sent his word, and healed them, and delivered them from their destructions.

Psalm 107:20

The healings were just signs. When people came just for signs He told them they were evil. He taught us that loving signs and wonders without loving His preaching is an evil thing.

But he answered and said unto them, An evil and adulterous generation seeketh after a sign; and there shall no sign be given to it, but the sign of the prophet Jonas:

Matthew 12:39

Preaching starts churches! God wants more preachers! God wants you to preach! Preaching and teaching will heal your marriage. It will reduce the tendency to fight; it will bring peace. Preaching will prevent divorce. Preaching changes lives!

Furthermore, by these few pages, my son, be admonished, because of making many books there is no end!

by Dag Heward-Mills

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briefcommaqueer · 7 years

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Ep 8: “through science to justice,” Magnus Hirschfeld, Weimar Germany, and the Nazis

Hi everyone, today’s video is going to be a little longer than usual because I’m trying to fit in a whole bunch of things, like the first gay rights group, the flourishing of a gay subculture in Germany in the early 20th century, and the persecution of LGBT folks during World War II. It’s a lot, and I’m going to try and serve the totality of it as best I can, but this is just a brief overview. I wanted to keep these things together because I think each part of this story informs the ones around it. [Just FYI, my German pronunciation is terrible, but I’m going to give it my best shot.] In 1897 a group of people in Berlin formed the Wissenshaftlich-humanitäres Komittee [or the Scientific Humanitarian Committee] to lobby against anti-gay laws in Germany, including Paragraph 175 of the Criminal Code, which outlawed sex between men. Led by the sexologist Magnus Hirschfeld, the committee was the first gay rights group in the world. Coming a generation or so after the coining of the word “homosexuality,” and the work of the first gay rights activists like Karl Ulrichs and Karl Maria Kertbeny (see episode one for details), Hirschfeld was at the vanguard of those using the most up-to-date science to fight against societal and legal attitudes that treated homosexuality as deviant and criminal. He wasn’t alone in this, but he was probably the most prominent scientist working on these issues at the time. In fact, he was sometimes promoted as the “Einstein of sex.” Hirschfeld was the Scientific Humanitarian Committee’s first chair, and the committee was emblematic of his motto: “through science to justice.” Like Ulrichs and Kertbeny before him, argued that sexuality was an innate trait rather than a chosen one, and by this reasoning it was cruel and pointless to criminalize same-sex activity. To give you an idea of the kind of things that he did with the committee Dr. Hirschfeld often served as an expert witness for the trials of men charged under Paragraph 175, arguing for leniency in the courts. In doing so, he often succeeded in getting the sentences reduced for his client. For his part Max Spohr, One of Hirschfeld’s partners in the committee, involved himself in the activist push by publishing sexological studies and popular gay literature. With titles like Die Transvestiten (or The Transvestites), these books spread the committee’s ideals across Europe. Germany was uniquely suited to this tactic, given that censorship laws at the time were fairly liberal. Despite this leniency, Spohr and other publishers occasionally came into conflict with the government, such as when he published homosexual and anarchist Adolf Brand’s literary journal Der Eigene, which had explicitly gay content. This and other propaganda from the committee turned sentiment among many of Germany’s elite against anti-gay laws. Many of the texts published by Spohr’s press included both academic journals and longer scientific papers from Magnus Hirschfeld. Dr. Hirschfeld founded an institute in 1919 to further work in the field of sexology, or the study of human sexual behavior. Hirschfeld’s Institute for Sexual Science (Institut für Sexualwissenschaft) occupied a large building in Central Berlin, where Germans could go for help with a number of sexually-related issues, from birth control to gender transition services, and which housed a museum devoted to human sexuality. Under Hirschfeld, the committee also circulated a petition among elites to urge the government under Kaiser Wilhelm II to repeal the anti-sodomy law. This petition even made it to the floor of the Reichstag (or the parliament) in 1898, though the statute was not overturned. The committee and other rights groups continued pushing this agenda even after the Wilhelmine government gave way to the Weimar Republic after WWI. A vote in 1929 promised to reform the law (activists called the reform “one step forward and two steps back), though this too fell through. Hirschfeld resigned his chairmanship that same year following this last attempt. So, what was gay life like in Germany at this time? Around the turn of the 19th century, police in Berlin began an informal policy of monitoring but not raiding establishments that catered to homosexuals. This allowed a gay nightlife to flourish in the city. By the end of the 1920s, Berlin was well known throughout Europe as a center of homosexual life, especially for those who were well off. Clubs and bars that served gay clientele and featured cross-dressing entertainers were even established enough to warrant guided tours. It wasn’t all wine and roses, however. Despite relative freedom, homosexuality was still a punishable offense, and thousands ended up in prison as a result of Paragraph 175. Moreover, the Berlin police position of non-intervention didn’t really extend to the rest of Germany. The openness of Berlin’s attitude towards homosexuality was always tenuous at best, and relied upon a fairly liberal society. After the Great Depression hit, and the collapse of the German economy on top of crippling reparations imposed by the victors of WWI, the previous open conditions gave way. By the time the National Socialists (or the Nazis) seized power, an atmosphere of fear, anxiety, and plain old xenophobia had made it much easier for those in power to scapegoat marginalized groups within Germany. Despite the previous promise of the reform movement, Paragraph 175 continued into the Third Reich. After seizing power, the Nazis began campaigns against those they deemed “degenerate,” and much like leftists, Jews, persons with disabilities, and Romany, thousands of homosexuals were sent to concentration camps. These prisoners wore a pink badge in the shape of a triangle, marking their crime as homosexuality. This pink triangle was revived as a symbol by gay rights groups later in the century, most notably by ACT UP during the AIDS crisis in the 1980s. Gay prisoners went through the same torture, privation, and cruelty as others in the camps. By the end of World War II, only about 40% of those who had been sent to concentration camps because of their sexuality had survived. And yet for many, even liberation came with a cost. Both governments in divided Germany maintained anti-sodomy laws on their books well after the war, and even re-imprisoned those who had been released. East Germany made amendments to the law beginning in the 1950s, and overturned it in the 80s. West Germany amended their law in the 1960s, though full repeal didn’t occur until after reunification in the 1990s. As for Magnus Hirschfeld, he was away on a speaking tour when the Nazi party took power. He never returned to Germany, and died in exile in 1935. The Nazis sacked his institute in May 1933, destroying the sexological museum and burning the institute library, including Hirschfeld’s research and the research of his colleagues. Being a Jew, and a reported homosexual, as well as a liberal sexologist, Hirschfeld was a powerful symbol for them to attack, and it was unlikely he would have survived returning to his country. You’ll notice that women are excluded from this narrative thread. In large part, it’s because Paragraph 175 only criminalized same-sex activity between men, and because the scope of Nazi repression of lesbians was substantially different, tending towards circumscribing the role of women as mothers and wives rather than by outright imprisonment. Hirschfeld, for his part, welcomed women into the Scientific Humanitarian Committee, and worked on feminist issues of the time like decriminalizing abortion. Others in the same movement, like Adolf Brand, tended towards dismissing women and lionized masculinity as the greatest ideal as part of the männerbund (or the male association) movement. Now, I don’t know how many you have run across the idea of Nazis as being gay, but it is something I’ve witnessed personally. To be sure, some of the earliest Nazi leaders, like head of the Brownshirts Ernst Röhm, were gay, but the power of these leaders within the Nazi government was short-lived. Röhm himself one of many assassinated in 1934 during the Night of the Long Knives. There is no doubt in my mind that the Nazis were virulently homophobic, and that’s where I’ll leave that idea. Just one last point, although this video is already quite full. Hirschfeld’s approach, and the approach of the committee, necessarily left out a lot of people who were adversely affected by anti-gay laws, primarily the working class and sex workers, although those are often one and the same. For this and other reasons the movement as a whole broke down along ideological and class lines, and it’s possible that effectiveness suffered as a result. It’s taken me a while to figure out how to approach this episode, because I see real parallels between what I’m discussing here and what our landscape looks like today in the US. That being said, I don’t want to give the impression that I think the election of Donald Trump is exactly analogous as the rise of Nazism in Germany. There are, however, a lot of troubling similarities, and I’m not holding out hope that things will get better soon for marginalized people in the US. I’m passionate about history because there’s nothing new under the sun. What I’ve been trying to do throughout this series, whether consciously or unconsciously, has been to illustrate the strategies and tactics by which people have tried to foment change. Sometimes, like in our first episode, it’s by defining the issue, by giving us vocabulary to talk about it. Sometimes it’s through spontaneous (and physical) resistance, like with Compton’s cafeteria in episode 6. Occasionally it happens within the system; more often it comes from outside. Change doesn’t always stick, and it’s never easy. Progress doesn’t always win, and that kind of sucks. So what can we do? We can pay up for people whose work has helped us out. With money if you can, by signal boosting if you can’t. Support your local library. I wouldn’t have access to most of the materials I’ve used in this series if it weren’t for the library. There’s a million things to do, they’re just a search away. There’s so much more out there than I’ve managed to fit in this video, so don’t just take my word for it. Take a look at the resources in the description, and there’s a link to the transcript as well. You can follow me on Twitter, you can follow the show on Tumblr, and don’t forget to subscribe. See you next time. So what can we do? We can pay up for people whose work has helped us out. With money if you can, by signal boosting if you can’t. Support your local library. I wouldn’t have access to most of the materials I’ve used in this series if it weren’t for the library. There’s a million things to do, they’re just a search away. There’s so much more out there than I’ve managed to fit in this video, so don’t just take my word for it. Take a look at the resources in the description, and there’s a link to the transcript as well. You can follow me on Twitter, you can follow the show on Tumblr, and don’t forget to subscribe. See you next time.

Watch: https://briefcommaqueer.tumblr.com/post/159316183370/resources

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flossinginthesunshine · 7 years

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Cambodia: From Pain to Pride

The year is 1975. There has been a civil war raging in the countryside of Cambodia for five years between the weak monarchy in power and the communist regime known as the Khmer Rouge. The monarchy was made up of mostly educated and wealthy Cambodians working in the government/military, while the Khmer Rogue base was predominantly farmers and rural villagers. On April 17, 1975, the Khmer Rouge overthrew the monarchy and took control of the capitol, Phnom Penh.

Over the next four years, two million people were killed under the Marxist leader Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge. In a dramatic effort to force Cambodia back to the Middle Ages and create an agrarian utopia, one-fourth of the population was tortured, starved and murdered. Intellectuals were the target. Cities were emptied. Currency was abolished.

We spent a day at the S-21 jail in Phnom Penh, learning about the horrors of just one of hundreds of torture camps in Cambodia during this time.

Communication to the outside world was completely cut off. One Swedish photographer and his team were invited into the country, and Pol Pot put on a grand show for them… making it seem as though everything in Cambodia was picture perfect. The team returned to Europe and reported to the rest of the world that there was nothing to worry about in Cambodia, and that Pol Pot was a beloved leader taking care of his country.

Meanwhile, 17,000 prisoners were being tortured and killed in the heart of Phnom Penh. Only twelve people who entered S21 survived.

The Khmer Rouge were eventually overthrown by the Vietnamese in 1979, but the horror would live on in the lives of Cambodians for generations to come and the effects of the war are easily visible today. When you spend time in Cambodia, you’ll quickly notice that you don’t see many old people; it’s rare to see someone over the age of 60 out and about. The U.N. continued to recognize the Khmer Rouge as the governing body of Cambodia until 1991, even though they were no longer living in Cambodia and were hiding in exile in the hills of Northern Thailand. Pol Pot wasn’t brought to trial until 1997, and only then was he sentenced to house arrest where he died a year later.

If any of this intrigues you, I recommend reading First They Killed My Father -- one of the only first person accounts of the genocide, told from the perspective of 5-year-old Loung Ung. She was separated from her parents and six siblings and sent to a child soldier camp, miraculously survived the war, and eventually made her way to America where she began telling her story to anyone who would listen.

In my research on Cambodia, I came across this quote from Joseph Mussomeli, a former US Ambassador to Cambodia:

“Be careful because Cambodia is the most dangerous country you will ever visit. You will fall in love with it and eventually it will break your heart.”

I couldn’t describe the feeling any better. In many ways, our time in Cambodia was like other the SE Asian countries we’ve visited -- markets, temples, beaches, and bungalows -- but what made us feel more connected to this special place was the people. Despite the tragedies they’ve endured in quite recent history, they have the friendliest attitudes and most positive outlook on life. While it continues to be one of the poorest nations in the world, the people have fully embraced tourism as their fastest growing industry and exude hope and optimism with every interaction.

And with that, I’ll leave you with these photos + captions of our four glorious yet heart wrenching weeks in Cambodia:

Angkor Wat: The Largest Religious Monument in the World

First up was Siem Reap, a charming city home to Angkor Wat - the largest religious monument in the world. We spent two days exploring the Angkor Archaeological Park, which spans over 400 acres of Cambodian jungle.

Originally built as a Hindu temple in the 12th century, Angkor Wat was converted into a Buddhist temple in the 14th century, and served as the capital of the Khmer Empire through the 15th century. At it’s peak, the complex was home to 1 million people (!!) making it the largest city in the world until the Industrial Revolution. Today, it’s protected as a UNESCO World Heritage Site, welcoming several million visitors per year.

Watching the sunrise with 1,000+ fellow travelers.

Garrett and Sarafina (who we met in Laos) traveled with us throughout Cambodia, making our time in this lovely country that much sweeter.

According to inscriptions, the construction of Angkor Wat involved 300,000 workers + 6,000 elephants, and took over 30 years to complete to it’s current state. However, it was never fully completed and no one knows exactly why...

The faces of Angkor Wat, otherwise known as The Banyon. Two-hundred and sixteen faces make up the only Mahayana Buddhist shrine in the Angkor Wat complex. The faces are said to belong to the Bodhisattva of compassion, who has mastered the soft smile.

The Khmer architecture was shaped to express the Hindu vision of the relationship between nature and humanity... creating a strikingly beautiful dichotomy between crumbling stone and thriving forest.

10 Days in Otres Beach

Next on our list was Otres Beach. We arrived in the port city of Sihanoukville via a 12-hour overnight bus from Siem Reap and walked straight to the beach to find a home. We snagged a private bungalow at Sea Garden Guest House for 10 USD per night. What sold us was the large vegan menu, real coffee and the fact that they delivered your food straight to your beach chair. The employees at Sea Garden were all fellow travelers, working a few hours a day in exchange for free food and lodging.

W quickly learned that Otres Beach moves at it’s own pace and attracts and a very unique type of long-term traveller. We heard this line time and time again: “I planned to stay for 3 days, but now it’s been 3 weeks.” Soon enough, we were saying the same thing; we planned to stay 3-4 days and finally left after 10.

Our days were nearly identical to our week in Goa, India... morning runs, afternoons spent reading and tossing the Frisbee, sunset yoga and reiki and evenings playing trivia next door. The guesthouse next door had a small library that rented books for $0.25/day and boasted a huge collection of Beat authors (Kerouas, Ginsberg, Kesey). If we didn’t have a 30-day visa, I think you’d find JJ still reading at the beach six months later.

Otres Beach is around 3 miles long, with a large stretch of sand splitting the guesthouses and spanning 1.5 miles of emptiness. Ten years ago, this stretch was full of bungalows just like ours, but they have since been torn down by the Cambodian government to make room for new Chinese development.

The properties on Otres (including our beloved Sea Garden) have already received their eviction notices, and will have to vacate their land sometime in the next three years. Maybe that’s why people stay Otres so long... because they know this hippy paradise of cheap vegan food and unobstructed sunsets is coming to an end very soon.

One night, we decided to venture out from the safety of our beach and check out a sunrise party in the jungle called Kerfuffle. This jungle rave happens every Wednesday night, and doesn’t kick off until 2am. In an effort to get nearly a full night’s sleep, we went to bed at our normal time (9pm) and set our alarms for 2am, hopped in a tuk-tuk and got to the rave around 2:30am. We boogied until sunrise, making it back to our beach for a nap around 7am.

The set-up was reminiscent of a music festival... with a DJ stage, Ferris wheel, tree-house behind the dance floor and lights twinkling in the trees. At one point it started pouring down rain and we all huddled underneath one of the carnival rides until the DJ started playing again.

We’re unable to capture the highlight of Otres Beach in photographs, because it involves seeing the ocean glow. The coast of Cambodia is known for it’s bio-luminescent plankton that glow a bright green color when disturbed. All you have to do is swim out into the ocean in the middle of the night (one of my worst nightmares) and make a lot of movement. After a few minutes of splashing around in the dark, JJ said “look down.” And there it was... thousands of glowing green stars moving with our bodies underwater. It was magical and we spent hours mesmerized by how cool our planet is.

After swimming with the plankton, it was finally time to leave Otres. Our minivan to Kampot picked us up right on time and then made one additional stop to snag another round of passengers. We pulled up to a nearby hotel and the driver got out of the car to help the guests with their bags. However, he forgot one minor detail of putting on the parking brake... and the van started rolling forward, heading straight for the hotel pool. JJ and I stared at each other in horror while the driver nonchalantly made his way back to the van, put it in park and laughed uncontrollably. He then went back to get the bags and the van started rolling forward AGAIN. This time we jumped out of the van, landing safely on the ground and refused to get back in until the driver promised not to leave his seat.

Oh SE Asia... always keeping us on our toes.

Kampot + Kep

We spent the next week exploring the waterfront towns of Kampot and Kep... living in tree houses, eating very mediocre crab and tasting the “world famous” and incredibly over-hyped Kampot pepper (ever heard of it? neither had we).

. Cambodia in the clouds.

Funky bathroom art: say hello in your language :)

What may appear to be a peaceful sunset scene is in reality a fleet of Vietnamese fishing boats that have encroached upon Cambodian waters using illegal fishing practices (electrified nets) to steal the catch of the day. The police department and fishing authorities have very little control, which has led to a vigilante war between the two fishing communities and caused nearly irreversible ecological destruction.

Once a charming coastal town frequented by French vacationers, Kep is now trying to regain it’s status on the backpacker trail as the place to go for fresh crab. Twenty-five stalls line the beach with signs proclaiming their fish superior to all the others. While the flavors were quite underwhelming, watching these two play with their food more than made up for it.

Rabbit Island: More Hammocks Than People

As if our time in Cambodia hadn’t been relaxing enough, we retreated to a tiny island off the coast of Kep for a few days. What we found was more hammocks than people, the best curry of our entire trip, and lots of Vitamin D.

Forever chasing cairns.

Phnom Penh: Our Favorite Big City in SE Asia

This city blew us away with it’s sense of community, vegetarian food, and booming infrastructure. At one rooftop bar, we counted 40 cranes on the horizon. The smells, sights, sounds, markets, and nonstop dodging of motorbikes reminded us of India, and we quickly took a liking to it.

Cambodia (especially Phnom Penh) is known for it’s knock-off name brand shopping game. You can get anything from iPhones to Levis to designer bags… and we dedicated an entire day to exploring these markets. JJ hit the jackpot at this little air conditioned store where these five Cambodian women dedicated two hours to finding him the perfect pair of paints. He walked out with three new pairs, all perfectly tailored to his body, for a whopping $32.

In the heart of the market, just when you think you may pass out from heat exhaustion... you’ll find Mr. Al Bounnarith, who makes the self-proclaimed (and rightfully so) “best iced coffee in Phnom Penh.” He started this venture right after the Khmer Rouge in 1980 when coffee was a foreign concept to Cambodians, used all of his profits to care for his sick mother, and now spends his days entertaining travelers and leaving us feeling refreshed and WIRED.

Finding good, cheap, vegetarian food in SE Asia is difficult... so we were thrilled to find a spot with $0.50 pumpkin juice, $1 fried mushrooms, and $2 veggie noodles. Naturally, we ate here four times in three days.

If I could capture the essence of modern-day Cambodia in one place, it would be at the Olympic Stadium. Ironically, Phnom Penh has never hosted an Olympics... but nevertheless, our hotel was just a few blocks from here, and we read online it was a good place to run. Little did we know it was also home to the number one place to work out in the city. We went running there twice, once in the morning and once at night... each time marveling at the sense of community radiating from this place. There were street-side market vendors selling fruit and fried noodles at every turn, sand volleyball games, paralympics events, tennis matches, Taekwondo tournaments, zumba classes, and hundreds of people just hanging out. We were the only westerners there both times, and we loved it.

Photo courtesy of Google.

Towards the end of our time in Cambodia, we met a fellow traveler who shared our love for the country and had spent way more time there than our 30-day visa would allow. As we said goodbye to him, he left us with this: “The best places in Cambodia have yet to be discovered.”

So my advice to you is... go to Cambodia! Embrace it’s history. Let your heart break. Support the local economy. Exchange smiles with every person you cross. Discover those undiscovered places.

We can’t wait to go back one-day soon.

Cheers,

Camryn

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leftpress · 8 years

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'It’s Hard to Show the World I Exist': Chelsea Manning's Final Plea to Be Seen

In 2010, Chelsea Manning leaked thousands of classified documents in an attempt to shed light on the "true cost of war" in the Middle East. But while other whistleblowers continue to attract media attention and concern, Manning is locked in a maximum-security prison, six years into a 35-year sentence. On the heels of a last appeal to President Obama for clemency, Manning tells Broadly about her struggle for visibility and justice.

by Diana Tourjee | DEC 29 2016

Chelsea Manning is currently incarcerated in a maximum-security facility in Fort Leavenworth, Kansas. She's been in United States custody for six years, and spent months in solitary confinement. For that entire time, she has been forced to dress like a man, with her hair cropped close to her head. Her connection with the outside world is limited: There are extremely strict rules about who can visit her, and media isn't allowed to speak with her directly, though she can correspond with journalists by mail. At times, her situation seems hopeless, but she has tried to persevere.

"Courage is not fearlessness," she wrote in a letter to Broadly this December. "Courage is the ability to keep going, even when you are unsure of yourself, even when you are nervous, and even when you are terrified. If you can still fight when the odds appear to be against you, and when it looks like you might be fighting it alone, then you are genuinely brave."

In May of 2013, Chelsea Manning was convicted of six counts of espionage and sentenced to 35 years in prison. The former military specialist is responsible for what is considered the largest leak of classified government documents in American history—they include the Iraq War Logs and the Afghan War Diary, two data troves that she believed would shed light on the "true cost of war" in the Middle East, such as the United States' failure to investigate thousands of claims of torture in Iraq, the detainment of innocent or low-threat-level individuals at Guantanamo Bay, and thousands of civilian deaths.

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Manning's sentence is extreme by any metric. Other convicted whistleblowers have had to serve far less time, often in the range of one to three-and-a-half years—though Manning is just a sixth of the way through her sentence, she has already been incarcerated twice as long as most other convicted whistleblowers. Earlier this year, she made a plea to President Obama to alter her sentence from 35 years to time served, which would free her immediately while recognizing her guilt. Last month, over 100,000 people signed a White House petition making the same demand. The President's second term will end in January, meaning he has less than a month to take action.

Though some people celebrate Manning as a whistleblower—she was the 2013 recipient of the Sean MacBride Peace Prize—others see her actions as treasonous and damaging to the state. "Let's charge [her] and try [her] for treason," a FOX news national security expert, KT MacFarland, wrote of Manning in 2010. "If [she's] found guilty, [she] should be executed." President-elect Donald Trump has selected MacFarland to be his deputy national security adviser, according to CNN.

And even among people who prize government transparency, Manning is often overlooked. The world seems to have rallied behind other, more visible whistleblowers, such as Edward Snowden, who has become something of a celebrity from his recluse in Russia. One of the main reasons for this, according to Evan Greer, one of Manning's biggest advocates and the campaign director of Fight for the Future, is that Manning is hidden from sight in prison, denied the right to speak for herself.

"Prisons are designed to dehumanize and hide people from the public. No one can see Chelsea, and very few people can actually hear her voice," she explains. (I conducted my interview with Manning through one of her lawyers at the ACLU, Chase Strangio, who had one of Manning's contacts dictate my questions to her over the phone.)

Manning agrees with this characterization. "I have been disconnected from the world for what's becoming close to a decade now. There isn't even a good photograph taken of me since 2013—and these were taken during my court martial," she said in her letter to Broadly. "It's hard to show the world I exist anymore."

Throughout her life—and certainly her life as a public figure—Manning has struggled against forces that would silence her. She grew up in a society that rejected her womanhood; she later joined the military, a hyper-masculine institution that has been described as "openly hostile" towards gay and trans soldiers; while serving in the armed forces, she witnessed injustices that were classified by the state; she was subjected to "cruel and inhuman" treatment in the custody of the United States government, according to a UN investigator; when she finally came out as transgender in 2013, she was frequently and intentionally misgendered in the press; and now, incarcerated in a high-security facility in Fort Leavenworth, Kansas, she must fight against a system that may soon destroy her.

"Chelsea has a huge amount of support," adds Greer, "but we are fighting an uphill battle against the US government's attempts to silence her important voice through incarceration."

During Manning's childhood, "it was like trans people didn't exist at all," she told Broadly. She remembers the difficulty growing up as a young, feminine person. She had never heard about real people who had changed their sex, or escaped its strictures; the only representation of transgender people that she remembers from back then were characters from horror stories, like Buffalo Bill in Silence of the Lambs, and caricatures on sensational crime dramas, like Law & Order.

Today, Manning reflects on her coming of age with the understanding that she was "shoved into the social role of a male." She believes her attempt "to meet other people's expectations of what a 'man' should be like" influenced the choices she made throughout her life. She once said she was bullied for being a "girly boy" when she was young. Hoping to curb discrimination in school, she tried to disappear among the boys by playing sports. Later, as an adult, Manning was encouraged by her father to join the army, and she enlisted in what is perhaps the most aggressively masculine institution imaginable in the summer of 2007—three years before she was arrested, and six years before she came out as transgender.

Before she was deployed to Iraq in October of 2009, Manning was stationed at Fort Drum in upstate New York. For the six months she was there—between February and August—she corresponded via AOL Instant Messenger with atheist vlogger Zinnia Jones. Jones was a young queer person with a relatively large audience. At the time, neither she nor Manning had come out as transgender or begun transitioning. Manning was presumably drawn to Jones because they both identified as gay men at that time, and they were both atheists who were interested in computers and mathematical theory.

Jones' videos, which she still makes today, had titles like "The Meaningless Death of Jesus," and "It Doesn't Matter if Being Gay is a Choice." Manning quickly opened up to her, telling Jones about her life and discussing her experience in the military. "It took them awhile," Manning wrote, referring to her fellow soldiers, "but they started figuring me out, making fun of me, mocking me, harassing me, heating up with one or two physical attacks."

While other soldiers succeeded in completing basic training in the standard 10 weeks, Manning—who is slender and stands 5'2" tall—said that it took her six months. Eventually she got through the program, despite her small size, and entered the army as an intelligence analyst. The broad, dark green military uniform sat heavily on her slight frame; she had officially become Private First Class Manning, someone her father had wanted her to be. In 2009, she was deployed to a remote location outside of Baghdad.

In the writing she produced during her service—correspondence with people such as Jones—Manning says that she feels an immense sense of responsibility to the men and women that she worked with. Though she took her work seriously, and she was good at it, that did not reconcile the deep anguish she experienced because of her gender identity. While Manning was working hard, she was also coping with worsening gender dysphoria. No one knew her as a woman, and she was alone in that way.

In November of 2009, one month following her deployment, Manning was reportedly in contact with a "gender counselor" back in the United States who specialized in treating military personnel with gender identity issues. She told him she felt "like a monster." According to the American Medical Association, if left untreated, gender identity disorder "can result in clinically significant psychological distress... debilitating depression and, for some people without access to appropriate medical care and treatment, suicidality and death."

On April 24, 2010, Manning confessed her gender identity issues to her superior, master sergeant Paul Adkins, in an email. A few days later, she sent a similar email to military psychologist, Capt. Michael Worsley. Manning attached a grainy black and white photograph of herself wearing a wig to the email and wrote, "This is my problem. I've had signs of it for a very long time. I've been trying very, very hard to get rid of it. It is not going away." In the email, she told Adkins that these issues were the cause of her "pain and confusion" and that they made "the most basic things in my life very difficult."

"It is difficult to sleep and impossible to have conversations. It makes my entire life feel like a bad dream that won't end. I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do," she continued. "I don't know what will happen to me. But at this point I feel like I am not here anymore. Everyone is concerned about me, and everyone is afraid of me. I am sorry." Adkins later testified that he didn't pass the message onto military commanders because "I really didn't think at the time that having a picture floating around of one of my soldiers in drag was in the best interests of the intel mission."

On May 8, 2010, Manning was found curled in the fetal position, having carved the words "I want" into the back of an office chair. "[She] felt that [she] was not there; was not a person," master sergeant Adkins wrote in a memorandum read at trial.

"They treated all of this with deliberate ignorance, assuming the situation would simply go away," Jones claims. "Gender dysphoria does not go away. I am very certain that this deliberate medical neglect and intentional withholding of necessary mental health treatment contributed heavily to her ongoing distress at that time. The Army failed her on this front."

There were other reports of unstable behavior during Manning's service: She lashed out at her colleagues and allegedly displayed "erratic" conduct. But those who knew Manning personally caution against conflating her deteriorating psychological state with her decision to leak classified materials, as if the former wholly explains the latter. "I trust that her decisions hold more significance than some random event emerging from processes of pathology," says Jones. "I would be very hesitant to describe her disclosure of materials as being the byproduct of a mental health condition."

Indeed, Manning believes in government transparency and has been vocal and passionate about her politics since before she deployed to Iraq. In her correspondence with Jones in 2009, she fiercely critiqued the military's Don't Ask Don't Tell policy. When she was stationed at Fort Drum in Upstate New York prior to her deployment to Iraq, Manning participated in a rally protesting Proposition 8.

During Manning's trial, her ACLU lawyer, David Coombs, called on Jones to testify, speaking to the defendant's character. "He felt my story would provide information that would be helpful to Chelsea," Jones says, "by showing that she understood the importance of national and global peace and security and that she did not intend to harm the United States."

Manning has said that she wanted to help people in this nation to be informed and to have a say in the actions of their government, and still, after everything, she believes in this country. "It is so important that we continue to fight, even when we are cornered, even when we are desperate, and even when we are afraid," she wrote in her letter to Broadly, referring to LGBT Americans who may feel hopeless during these difficult political times. "There is a tendency in certain parts of our community to take a step back during a crisis, to wait and see what happens, and hope for the best. We absolutely cannot afford to do that."

Illustration by Julia Kuo

On February 3—almost three months before she emailed Adkins about her struggles with gender identity—Manning uploaded the Iraq War Logs and the Afghan War Diary to WikiLeaks, a media organization that accepts anonymously submitted classified documents in the interest of transparency. Manning had first tried to bring the files to the Washington Post and the New York Times, but she felt the former didn't take her seriously, and the latter did not return her phone call. She then turned to WikiLeaks, which she had previously become aware of after seeing the site publish a collection of pager messages from 9/11 that she immediately recognized as authentic documents from the NSA. When Manning leaked the Iraq War Log and the Afghan War Diary, she was in the US on leave from her deployment in Iraq.

Manning returned to Iraq on February 11. During that timeframe, she overheard some of her colleagues discussing footage in an Army server that showed an American Apache helicopter firing on a group of men on the street in Baghdad in 2007. She researched the time and date of its occurrence, and what she found shocked her: The footage shows soldiers in the US military aircraft opening fire on a Reuters photographer, Namir Noor-Eldeen, mistaking the telephoto lens in his hand for an rocket-propelled grenade (RPG). Noor-Eldeen appears to die immediately, though the helicopters spray the area back and forth with heavy artillery, killing several Iraqi men in the crossfire. Saeed Chmagh, Noor-Eldeen's assistant, begins to crawl away from the dead bodies, pulling himself onto the sidewalk in an effort to find safety, and the soldiers beg for an excuse to kill him; they say they hope he'll reach for a weapon, any weapon, apparently so that they will be allowed to shoot him.

When a van of good Samaritans appears and tries to help Chmagh into their vehicle, the soldiers in the helicopter beg again for, and are granted, permission to fire. They were unaware at the time that children were inside the van; a US military ground unit would later find the kids alive but injured. In all, 12 people were killed in the air strike.

Manning eventually uploaded the video to WikiLeaks on February 21 of 2010, and the organization published it on April 5, 2010, dubbing the footage "Collateral Murder." (At this point, the Iraq War Logs and the Afghan War Diary had not yet been published.) The "Collateral Murder" footage directly, and damningly, contradicted the US military's official account of what had taken place that day: In response to a Freedom of Information Act filed by Reuters in 2007, the military had claimed it could not estimate when, or if, the footage could be produced, saying in a statement released after the shooting that both Noor-Eldeen and Chmagh died as the result of an attack following insurgent fire, including RPGs.

"The most alarming aspect of the video to me," Manning later testified, "was the seemingly delightful bloodlust [the US soldiers] appeared to have. They dehumanized the individuals they were engaging, and seemed to not value human life by referring to them as 'dead bastards' and congratulating each other on the ability to kill in large numbers." She also likened one soldier's behavior to "a child torturing ants with a magnifying glass."

The release of the footage was met with outrage toward the army's apparently indiscriminate killings, both by the American public as well as people in Iraq. "At last the truth has been revealed," said Noor-Eldeen's father after the footage was leaked, according to the New York Times. "I would have sold my house and all that I own in order to show this tape to the world."

Manning had a reasoned explanation of her motivation for the leaks, which she told to a hacker named Adrian Lamo in May of 2010. "I want people to see the truth, regardless of who they are, because without information, you cannot make informed decisions as a public," she wrote.

When Manning uploaded the Iraq War Logs and the Afghan War Diary to WikiLeaks in February she added a note, which ended this way: "This is possibly one of the most significant documents of our time, removing the fog of war and revealing the true nature of 21st century asymmetric warfare."

In May of 2010, Adrian Lamo, the hacker with whom Manning had corresponded after uploading massive amounts of data to WikiLeaks, turned her over to the Department of Justice. She had sought out Lamo a week earlier, apparently lonely and trying to make some human connection. Lamo was publicly connected to WikiLeaks, which may have made Manning see him as a relevant contact.

On May 27, Chelsea Manning was arrested. She was put in an "8' x 8' x 8' wire mesh cage in Kuwait," according to VICE, and held for two months before being transferred to the United States, where she was put in an even smaller cage at Marine Corps Base Quantico, in Virginia. Here, Manning was kept in solitary confinement for nine months, frequently stripped and left naked, and awoken when she fell asleep. A dentist provided mental health evaluations.

During this period, WikiLeaks was actively publishing the rest of the documents that Manning sent to them, including the Afghan War Diaries, the Iraq War Logs, and a massive collection of US diplomatic cables. (Manning's leaks clarified previously opaque international affairs and embarrassed US state officials, but their impact on our nation's relationship with foreign powers were "fairly modest," according to former Defense Secretary Robert Gates.)

While Manning's actions as a whistleblower sent shockwaves around the globe, the American government's treatment of her in state custody has become a human rights crisis in itself. In 2011, PJ Crowley, then the Assistant Secretary of State for Public Affairs, resigned from his position following public remarks that he made about Manning. "What is being done to [Chelsea] Manning is ridiculous and counterproductive and stupid on the part of the Department of Defense," Crowley had said. His statement prompted President Obama to speak on Manning's experience at Quantico. At a press conference in 2011, Obama appeared satisfied with the Pentagon's assurance that the treatment of Manning was "appropriate."

A month after Obama was forced to confront Manning's treatment at Quantico, he publicly stated that she "broke the law," despite the fact she had not yet been convicted of any crime. Manning's defense attorney would later cite this statement by Obama as an example of the way that the US government affected public perception of Manning's guilt prior to her trial. In January of 2013, the pretrial imprisonment of Manning was indeed deemed illegal in a court ruling.

Photo via Flickr User Matthew Lippincott

When her trial finally came, Manning pled guilty to lesser charges in hopes that the judge would be lenient in sentencing. She did not plead guilty to the charge of aiding the enemy. As the prosecution prepared to argue that Manning had aided an enemy of the state, Crowley spoke out again, this time in a column for the Guardian in which he lambasted the US government for "making a martyr" of Manning.

Manning was ultimately acquitted of the aiding the enemy charge, but she did not receive the leniency she had counted on.

The conditions Manning faces in prison are brutal, and some of her advocates say they're tantamount to state-sponsored harassment. "The US military has kept her in a constant state of stress by continually harassing her with frivolous prison infractions," said Greer, the advocate who helped Manning to petition President Obama. Like Manning's lawyers and other supporters, Greer believes that Manning is "being denied the mental health support and gender-related health care that she desperately needs."

Until 2015, Manning was denied hormones to help her transition, and she's still required to wear her hair cropped closely to her head, in line with the military's standards for male inmates. In 2015, she was threatened with indefinite solitary confinement for possessing "contraband"—toothpaste and LGBTQ reading materials. This summer she was placed in solitary, as punishment for attempting to take her own life. In September, after Manning staged a hunger strike, the military guaranteed in writing that it will provide her with gender reassignment surgery, though she has yet to receive that treatment.

To some, Manning's treatment at the hands of the US military and her prolonged suffering is justification enough to commute her sentence. "Chelsea's mistreatment by the military and in their custody has been so protracted and indefensibly cruel that she should certainly be released immediately," insists Jones. Others, like Greer, note that Manning's continued incarceration essentially deprives the world of a vocal advocate for freedom and transparency. "She is an incredibly strong person with a brilliant and strategic mind, and she wants to use her talent and passion to make positive change in the world," Greer says. "The fact that she is kept away from us, locked behind bars, is truly a tragedy for our whole society."

Manning's lawyers at the ACLU, conversely, argue that her sentence should be overturned because her First Amendment rights were violated during her prosecution. In a brief filed earlier this year, the organization argues that the fact that she was prosecuted under the Espionage Act—a law first introduced during World War I that targets spies and traitors but has been used against whistleblowers and government officials who have communicated with the press in recent years—was unconstitutional.

One thing most of Manning's advocates unequivocally agree on is the fact that she will suffer immensely if she's not freed soon—and, with a looming Trump presidency, that her future may be frighteningly uncertain. While conditions have been brutal, Manning has at least finally been able to access healthcare. Many fear that such treatment could be threatened under Trump, who has been openly dismissive of the rights of trans people serving in the military.

Manning told Broadly that she suffers from feelings of desperation at times. "Sure, I have been surviving, and I plan on fighting to survive and move forward in the years to come," she said. "But I have no idea what challenges lie ahead."

Many advocates acknowledge that the present situation isn't very encouraging: President Obama has been notoriously tough on the prosecution of whistleblowers, and it doesn't help that many in the government still see Manning's actions as harmful to national security. "I will be surprised if President Obama commutes her sentence," PJ Crowley tells Broadly, adding that he does not consider Manning to be a whistleblower and considers her actions irresponsible and dangerous: "While serving in a war zone, she forwarded intelligence information and other sensitive material to someone not authorized to possess it," he says.

But even an establishment figure like Crowely, who believes that Manning's sentencing was just, recognizes that she should not have to spend 35 years in prison. "Chelsea Manning should be paroled at the first opportunity and allowed to go home and reconstruct her life," Crowley said.

According to Manning's lawyer, Chase Strangio, she "is seeking clemency and relief from her egregiously long sentence precisely so that she can, as Crowley suggests, 'go home and reconstruct her life', and so that she can, as Manning explains, finally live as the woman she was always meant to be." Strangio reiterates that Manning pled guilty, that she's not asking to be pardoned, and that she understands that she will "continue to face the consequences of her actions." Those actions, Strangio emphasizes, were motivated by a sense of duty to the American people.

"Chelsea acted in the service of the public interest to disclose information she believed imperative to inform people of harms perpetrated in the government's name around the world," Strangio explains. This is something that President Obama could consider when deciding whether or not to commute Manning's sentence to time served before he leaves office in January. According to Strangio, "her chances of surviving in prison much longer are slim, and action now will prevent the government from overseeing her unnecessary and untimely death."

Due to her belief that the American people have a right to know what their representative government is doing, and at whose expense, a woman is now locked in a prison in Kansas, where, among other injustices, she has been forced to fight legal battles to be given healthcare, punished for attempting suicide, and required to cut her hair because the state considers her to be a man. With incoming President Donald Trump's expansive military and surveillance powers, his apparent disinterest in truth, and cavalier attitude toward potential Russian interference in American politics, transparency in government is more important than ever before, as is the informed participation of the public in the sometimes disturbing behavior of the state.

Though there are platforms that share her writing, Manning, who risked her life and liberty to advocate for transparency, is now barely visible. Other than a digital black and white photograph taken during the first time that she dressed as a woman, the world has never even seen her. "I often worry that I have become more of a symbol than human," Manning wrote in her letter. If people forget that she is more than a whistleblower or a hero, then they'll never really know her, or understand the urgency and the severity of her situation.

"The truth is that I am just as vulnerable, and lonely at times, as everyone else," Manning continued. "I have my flaws. I have strengths. I have weaknesses. I also have talents. I have faults. There are a lot of things I can do. But there are also a lot of things I cannot do. I am only human."