#and i assure you none of them have taken any political economy courses

[moleshow]

when you’re 14 pages into the reading and it dawns on you that the words “gold standard” and “autarky” aren’t going to show up at all and that we’re just going to allude to the whole field of political economy so we can talk about global migrations on a scale so broad as to be completely useless

[all-my-love-for-harry]

The first meeting.

summary: y/n and artemis met a handsome (to y/n) and intimidating (to artemis) man.

word count: 1.5k

a/n: hope you’re enjoying this ‘series’ as much as i am enjoying writing them! (also, i’m sorry if there’s any mistakes regarding y/n’s job. i’m not from the uk so i got the information from the internet)

you can find more of my shy little boy here

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January, 2018.

If there was something Y/N enjoyed, was playdates. Ever since she got pregnant with she looked forward taking her little baby with their friends, have a conversation with other parents while they watch the kids interact. However Artemis’ number of playdates are limited, due to his struggle to make friends and talk with other kids.

But he did have one good friend, his name was Spike. The way the two boys became friends was still an unanswered question to Y/N, but she couldn’t have been happier when her little one had told her he had made a friend.

The Prendergast were a very chill, very fun family to spend time with, and it didn’t took long for Y/N to become close friends with Emi and Adam. They had started a little tradition to get together every other Friday night at each other’s places, and this particular Friday wasn’t Y/N’s turn to host the dinner.

The Y/L/N’s arrived on time, Artemis being excited to see his friend even though he just saw him at daycare earlier that day. He pulled from Y/N’s hand, making her walk faster.

“C’mon mummy!”

“Wait, we don’t want to drop the cookies we made!”

They made it to the doorway just before Emi pulled the door open and greeted them. “There you are, Spike was starting to wonder were his best friend was”

“Hi, we bought cookies” Y/N said as they stepped into the house, Artemis disappearing into the hallway as he ran towards the living room.

“You look tired, long week?”

“Sort of, collage students can take a tool on you” Y/N replied, sighing.

Y/N had recently taken a job as a collage teacher and while it has been a wonderful change in her family’s economy, it was indeed tiring and sometimes intimidating. But it allowed her to provide better for her little one, so she wasn’t going to complain.

“Well, tonight you can forget about work” Emi said, walking to the kitchen to place the cookies in the microwave to keep them warm. “Oh, I forgot to tell you but someone else is joining us for dinner”

“Oh?” Y/N raised her eyebrows. “Who?”

“His name’s Harry, you’ll love him. He recently came back to London and Adam invited him over”

“I want you to meet him, he’s a nice guy” Emi’s husband, Adam, came into the kitchen and wrapped his arms around Y/N’s shoulders. “I bet Artemis will love him too”

“Yeah, right” she chuckled. “As if you didn’t know my son”

“Worth the try” he smirked.

As if it was a sign, the doorbell was heard inside of the house, indicating someone new had just arrived. Y/N walked over the living room to see what the kids were up to, and she found Silver, Spike’s older sister, teaching the two boys how to drink tea properly. She smiled at the sight as she took a seat on one of the couches.

She heard voices coming closer to where she was, but it wasn’t until she heard the stranger laugh that she turned over to see. A handsome man stood beside Adam, he had chocolate curls adorning the very top of his head, along with beautiful emerald eyes joined by little crinkles at the side as he smiled at Emi.

He was beautiful.

Y/N saw as the three adults approached her, Adam smirking at her reaction in a way of telling her I told you so.

“Y/N, this is Harry. Harry, this is our friend Y/N” Harry offered his hand for her to shake and she noticed the rings adorning his fingers.

“It’s nice to meet you, love. I’ve heard wonderful things about you” he said as the shook hands.

“Pleasure’s mine” she smiled. She was gonna talk again but a little body crashed into her legs from behind, clearly hiding. “This is Artemis. Say hi, baba”

The little boy said nothing as he pushed himself further into his mum’s legs, clearly feeling intimidated of seeing a very tall stranger standing in front of his mummy.

“Hi Artemis, I’m Harry” he offered the boy the most friendly smile he could provide but he still wasn’t responding.

“I’m sorry, he’s… uh, very shy” Y/N blushed. “Darling, remember we’re polite to people” she said to her son.

Artemis let go of Y/N’s legs and took another peek to Harry, who was now crunched down to his level to make him feel more comfortable.

“Hello, Sir” he finally said, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink as he spoke.

Harry chuckled. “You can call me Harry, mate. I’m not that old”

Artemis nodded again. Silver and Spike came running to hug Harry, chanting Uncle Harry over and over again.

After the greetings, the kids went back playing and Y/N went to sit back on the couch, knowing how her son always wanted her close whenever he was feeling shy.

“Did I scare him?” Harry came with two glasses of wine. He sat beside her once she took it, mumbling a thank you.

“You didn’t. He’s just not so good with strangers”

“Missing his dad perhaps?” he inquired.

“You can miss someone you’ve never met” she chuckled before taking a long sip of wine.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s okay, I’m joking. I mean, he hasn’t met that piece of shit indeed but its fine”

“If it matters, I bet he’s an idiot” he leaned down to her, as if he was telling her a secret. Y/N snorted. “Anyway, I still hope I didn’t scare him”

Y/N shook her head. “Usually he’s like this, especially with other men, he doesn’t know many”

Harry turned to look at Y/N’s son. He was no older than four, he guessed. He had blonde, curly hair and hazel eyes. Harry thought his facial features were all from his mum, and he was so damn adorable.

“You have a very adorable one, looks just like his mum” Harry said, smirking at her.

“I know, right? Worth every back pain I had during nine months”

The two talked a little longer and Harry moved closer to her as their glasses became emptier. Harry thought she was very beautiful and charming, just like Adam had described her before.

He learned Y/N was 25 and a professor at UCL and she teaches at the UCL Department of Spanish and Latin American Studies in the Faculty of Arts and Humanities. He also learned Artemis was indeed four years old and had a passion for my neighbor totoro even though he has never seen the movie before.

“He just really likes the character” Y/N would say.

It was refreshing to see someone so put together at 25, he would admit. Everything that came out of her mouth was interesting for him, as he wanted to learn as much as possible from her.

The entire group had dinner outside, enjoying the beautiful night with light conversations and some more wine. Harry tried to talk to Artemis, but he still refused to answer him something else aside from ‘no’, ‘yes’ and ‘thank you’ for the time Harry complimented his shirt.

Every time, Y/N would send him an apologetic smile but he dismissed it offering her one of his own. He’s met shy children before, but usually none of them would be so closed off to him. He was good with children, heck, he loved them. But the one time he actually needed his charms with them to work, mostly to impress the pretty woman who happened to be the mum of said child, of course they didn’t.

In the other hand, Y/N was not surprised by her son’s reactions and felt bad for Harry every time he would try to talk with Artemis. She knew he didn’t do it to be impolite or rude, he just genuinely got that nervous around strangers. He even yelled stranger danger one time when a man asked him his favorite ice cream flavor, that man was an employee serving them the ice cream.

At the end of the night, everyone said their goodbye’s and Y/N went out of the door with a half sleep four year old laying on her shoulder as she carried him to the car.

Emi pushed Harry’s shoulder, silently telling him to go help her. And that’s what he did.

“Thank you” she said when Harry opened the backseat door for her.

“You’re welcome” he smiled. He observed how Y/N put Artemis on his car seat and buckled his seatbelt across his little chest. He also opened the door for her as the gentleman he was. “I… had a great time tonight”

“Me too. It was nice meeting you”

“Perhaps… we could go out some time?” he asked nervously. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to”

“I’d like that actually” They exchanged numbers quickly and Harry noticed how her lockscreen was a picture of Artemis in a Mickey Mouse costume.

“I’ll call you” he assured her.

“I’ll wait for your call” she smiled at him one more time before closing the door and starting her car and driving away.

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Taglist!!

@odetostep

[tessiete]

So, my mum sent me a prompt, and I...I wrote it. Still working on those in my inbox, but mum’s come first, ya know?

She picked Spotify #12 (Love You Back, by Metric), and she wanted Luke and Qui-Gon bonding. I tried, mum, but Korkie just shows up all the time.

Love, your daughter.

LIFT UP, AND FALL AWAY

Luke travels to Dantooine by himself.

It’s been weeks since Bespin, weeks since he’d been released from medical supervision aboard the Dreamless Sleep and weeks since he’d left all its well-meaning but overbearing clinicians behind. He knows he should go back to Yoda, or hunt for the bounty hunter who took Han, or help Leia rally the scattered rebel forces back into order, but instead, he makes his escape.

There is little enough to recommend the planet. It is an outer rim world with no industry or economy to speak of. There are no cities, or monuments, the largest settlements boasting hardly more than a few thousand people and recent rumours suggest a small but growing number of them may be Imperial sympathisers which doesn’t bode well for him: The Miracle of Yavin; The First Hope of the Alliance. He can’t imagine anything like that will be met with particular enthusiasm here. 

But even beyond political allegiances, it is a distinctly unappealing place being both unremarkable and largely unremarked. It is off of any useful trade route. It has few interplanetary allies, and only one weak judicial body to govern the entirety of its surface. In fact, the best thing Luke can think to say of it is that it is nearly as far away from Tatooine as it is possible for anything to be.

And far from Dagobah, too.

He brings his X-Wing down in the middle of a grassy plain, and leaves Artoo to run diagnostics on the ship. It’s his second (since he’d abandoned the first in Cloud City), and so lacking in all the alterations he’d so carefully programmed and calibrated into his previous fighter. He’s trying not to think of it as a nuisance, but an opportunity. A second chance. A second ship. A second hand - he smirks at this, and adjusts the blaster at his hip. He needs a second blade.

But there is something else that he must do first.

The sun is high as he sets off, only a small ration pack slung across his chest, and the blaster with him. Artoo’s whistling complaints grow fainter as he goes, until they are drowned completely beneath the whispers of swaying grasses. They are all turned brown. It is late in the year, and so they are filled with the gossip of an entire season. They brush against his legs, eager to touch this visitor and pass on rumours of his presence to their brethren, the trees, whose voices are heard in the rustle of leaves, then carried off on the wind in birdsong. 

In the distance, he sees a herd of grazing iriaz, but they move off long before he is close enough to comprehend them as anything more than silent shadows, silhouetted against the sky. They leave prints - wide tracks scratched into dusty earth, and little pools where they have kicked up some water to sustain them. Common havoc kites circle lazily overhead, riding the updrafts on stiff, unyielding wings. They too, take no interest in Luke, and soon disappear in search of prey. The drone of some insect rises and falls and vanishes, its source remaining unseen. It seems to Luke that all of Dantooine is of a beautiful, but uncurious nature, content to live and let live without extending either welcome or censure to those who cross its lands.

It is in this manner, unencumbered by anything but the weight of his thoughts, that Luke finds himself only a few hours later passing beneath the boughs of ancient blba trees to arrive on the doorstep of a tidy stone cottage in the middle of the Khoonda plains. The base is a round structure, supporting another smaller yet equally round structure on top, like buckets of sand packed tight and upturned upon each other. Where they meet, there is a ring of wood slats, angled steeply downward as shingles to protect from run off, the door an old fashioned vertical slide that folds over itself as it springs from the floor to hide away in the crossbeam above. He knocks, and when a man with blue eyes, and gold hair threaded silver answers, Luke knows why Ben’s ghost has asked him to come.

“I’m looking for Kryze,” he says. 

“That’s me,” the man replies, his brow furrowed. He keeps one hand on the door, and the other braced against the wall within to lend him strength should he need it, but there is no fear in his voice, despite the blaster he’s clearly noted. 

“I’ve been sent to find you,” Luke says, and Kryze sighs.

“Well,” he says, shoulders sagging, and his body shifting to grant Luke admittance. “You’d better come inside.”

The space is warm, the amber light of the afternoon filtering through rippled glass windows to dance over cluttered walls, and overfull shelves. There are plants, bursting from their pots like Tusken black powder on fire. Paintings cover every inch of the wall not taken up with windows or furniture, and canvases lie stacked atop one another in various crevices and corners where space has run out. Books - proper old volumes printed on flimsi, and in some cases actual paper, stand front to back to front in orderly lines high in their cramped cases, regimented troops of education and exploration. Lower down are curiously bent sticks, twisted knots of dry grass, beetle wings, the shed scales of a rosy drayk, leaves of various size and colour, and a small river stone, smooth and black and streaked with red. 

“Various treasures,” Kryze explains, as Luke is lost in his perusal. “You can touch them, if you like. Shall I put a kettle on?”

He wipes his hands upon an old rag, leaving streaks of blue and green, tossing it down beside a murky pitcher of water, and several brushes, and it is then that Luke realises he has caught him in the middle of something personal and profound.

“I don’t mean to bother you,” he says. “If you’re busy, I can wait. Or come back. Or -”

“Nonsense,” says Kryze, smiling. The expression is familiar, and Luke smiles back, feeling some common thread strum between them. “I ought to start on lastmeal anyway. We’re having muja dai-ungo for pudding. A favourite, you see, and yet I am the sole chef in this endeavour, since the other beasts which live here are prone to eating the jelly and leaving none for the glaze.”

It is some joke which Luke is not entirely certain of, so he smiles politely but doesn’t laugh as Kryze draws him into the cramped cookroom at the side. Water is set to boil on an ancient hot top, and Kryze sweeps aside a variety of holopads and half-finished string weaves to make space on the countertop. He pulls down two ceramplast cups, chipped and cracked, and smirks ruefully at his guest.

“A hazard of my unfortunate circumstances, you see. They say no plan survives contact with the enemy, and I take it to mean nothing at all survives contact with children. Everything here is somewhat the worse for wear, I’m afraid.” But there is nothing except long-suffering amusement in his voice, as though his pretensions of civility are an easy and happy price to pay for the benefit of such injury.

A shriek, followed by a chorus of laughter tumbles in from outside, and Kryze opens the window for a better view. Luke, overly alert to danger and almost surprised by joy, cannot help but duck his head to look, too.

A woman in long skirts races across the yard, followed by a girl brandishing a stick who looks only a few years younger than Luke, though she feels lightyears away. 

“Wait!” calls another voice, high and pleading. As the first two cavort out of sight, a third girl appears, only to stop at the call, and turn back as the fourth, and final member of the party staggers into view. A boy, no older than seven or so, sets himself down upon the ground, crossing his arms in displeasure as the girl walks back to soothe him. “They run too fast,” Luke hears him lament. “And I have lost the poesy you made me.”

Kryze lets out a breath of laughter, assured there is no danger except perhaps to his son’s vanity, and returns to his pot, measuring out leaves and water with equal care. Luke watches the girl give her brother a hug, and coax him off in pursuit of the others.

“My eldest, Jinn,” Kryze explains. “She’s a wild thing, like her mother. And Mav, too, but with a softer heart. Corim is the youngest, and most civilised of the bunch. Thank the stars, or I’m afraid I’d be terribly overrun out here. Do you take anything in your tea?”

“Um, no,” Luke says, thinking of the heavy spices of Tatooine brews. 

But the drink placed before him is a thin and watery kind of thing, of a pale pink colour. He can see the ceramplast through the liquid, and raises it to his lips skeptically.

Kryze watches him with that same kind amusement he seems to regard everything.

“It is a local variety of my own invention,” he explains. “Made from dried diabolix berries. Just the dried ones, mind you. The ones off the bush are deadly.”

Luke freezes, the rim of the cup pressed to his lips, the mild sweetness of sun still on his tongue, and Kryze laughs. He’s come here for a purpose, but has instead found himself trapped with a kind of domesticated eccentric.

He sets his tea down as politely as he can, while Kryze doesn’t hesitate to drink deeply from his own cup.

“I don’t want to be rude,” he says. “But I actually came here to deliver a message. From Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

At this, Kryze finally stills, his eyes meeting Luke’s with an apprehensive solemnity. “Of course,” he says. “What news?”

“He’s dead.”

The cup settles upon its saucer with only a faint chime of protest.

“Ah,” says Kryze.

In the following silence, guilt sweeps in, and soon Luke finds himself scrambling for the frayed edges of comfort and sympathy.

“It was fast,” he says. “And he knew what he was doing. He saved my life, and my friends. Vader - do you know anything that’s going on in the galaxy right now?”

That quiet, aching smirk curls upwards once more. 

“Of course,” says Kryze. “Why else would I be way out here?”

“I’m sorry,” Luke says.

Kryze stands to clear the table of their tea. 

“You say you’ve left your ship a few hours west? It is much too late for you to return to it now. Stay. Eat with us. Have a good night’s rest. Tomorrow, I should like to show you something.”

It is impossible for Luke to refuse this hospitality, not after he’s made such a mess of his own reason for coming here. He owes Kryze this much, at least.

“Of course,” he says. “If it isn’t any problem.”

“No problem at all,” Kryze insists. “There is an orchard down the path. If you follow the screams and laughter you should find it all right. The girls will collect you in time for latemeal.”

Thus dismissed, Luke removes his pack, but keeps his blaster close, heading for the door. At the threshold, he is overcome by a need to know for certain, and he turns back for one last look at the mysterious Kryze.

“Can I just ask,” he begins. “How did you know him? Obi-Wan, I mean. Why did he send me here to talk to you?”

His back to the door, Luke almost misses the reply carried back on the ghost of laughter.

“Oh, that,” says Kryze. “Well, after all, I am his son.”

 The sun of Dantooine is much too reserved to intrude, and so it is to the clatter of dishware, and eager voices that Luke wakes the next morning. He stretches, and moves from his room to the sonics across the hall he thinks without attracting notice, but he is met, upon his exit, with the startled aspect of the youngest Kryze listening at the door.

Corim’s jaw snaps shut, and he frowns before declaring quite firmly that, “I wasn’t spying. I was only checking to see if you hadn’t died in the night you slept in so late.”

Luke grins. “Not dead yet, I don’t think.”

“Well, if you don’t hurry, there shan’t be any flatcakes left, no matter what Bebu says.”

“I’ll be there in a sec,” Luke assures him, and he stalks away entirely unconvinced.

Despite this threat, the table in the main room is still heaped with food when Luke emerges, fresher and more relaxed than he’s been in ages. The Kryzes are already packed tight around the table, but Mav and Jinn happily bunch over to make room for Luke between them. Mav, especially, goes out of her way to fill his glass, and pile his plate with the last of the muja preserves left over from the night before.

“Hey, that was my share,” complains Jinn, her mouth full. “You’ve already had seconds today.”

Mav blushes, and ducks her head, but her retort is vehement for all that her embarrassment is public. “We have a guest,” she says. “And your face is so full of cake you wouldn’t even taste the jelly anyway!”

“I didn’t get seconds!” Corim chimes in.

“Mother!” Jinn demands, taking her appeal to a higher court.

“Jinn, relax,” says Wyla, supremely unbothered, sipping her kaf and reading off her holopad. “Mav, be nice. Corim, I have a treat for you later.”

“S’not fair,” Jinn grumbles into her plate, but Wyla reaches over to pat her hand sympathetically.

“If you’re looking for the worst villain to blame, then examine your father’s plate. He’s more than enough jelly on that cake to last us to next harvest.”

At this, Kryze looks up to shoot his daughter a smug grin, before shoveling a heavily laden portion of flatcake into his mouth. Jelly, piled too high to survive the journey, tumbles from his fork to splatter against the flat of his plate as emphasis of his unjust indulgence.

“Delicious,” he declares. Jinn rolls her eyes, while Luke smuggles in a bite of his own portion.

It is tasty, both sweet and tart and satisfyingly thick. The meal continues through several more hotly negotiated contracts, and concludes with Wyla and Mav packing up the old speeder with the spoils of their orchard, and Jinn agreeing to mind Corim, much to her delight and his wary dismay. Kryze, it is announced, has business to attend to with Luke, and he does not expect their return before nightfall. 

“Bring your rucksack,” he says, as they prepare to leave. “It is a long walk, and I shall want for snacks on the way.”

They set off with the sun on their faces, passing once more beneath the blba trees, the little cottage growing more and more distant as they make their way forth on the plains. Luke trusts that Kryze has some set destination in mind, but after the first hour he privately wonders if his guide has been distracted, and has brought them to wander in admiration of the land.

“That there is an extremely rare simbyloona butterfly,” he says, gesturing with a long wooden staff at the erratic path of the insect. “You ever been to Konkiv? Or Sriluur?”

“No,” says Luke.

“They have butterflies there,” explains Kryze. “What about Endor’s forest moon?”

“Never heard of it.”

“Well, if you ever go, keep an eye out,” he says, pushing on. 

The world seems much more alive with Kryze today. Longhoppers leap from the grass as he wades through, warbling tiktiks swoop over head to catch them. One of unique boldness lands upon the top of Kryze’s staff when he stops to show Luke the little dirt mounds of puppi mice beneath their feet. He smiles, and extends a finger to the bird which cocks its head from side to side before giving in to temptation and hopping upon Kryze’s outstretched hand.

“Hello, there,” he sings, soft and low. “Aren’t you a brave thing?”

He holds the bird forth so that Luke may have a closer look at the colourful plumage before lifting it higher to the sky to release it.

“Off you go, then,” he says. “Beautiful animal, isn’t it? Usually quite shy though. You must bring good luck.”

Luke watches the course of the bird, and hardly knows he’s replied until he’s already said, “Your father said there was no such thing.”

“Did he?” Kryze beams. “Well, he always had such odd notions.”

“Unlike you?” Luke asks. It’s not that he’s insulted by the man’s amusement at a dead man, but it does seem somewhat hypocritical in light of the bird, and the paintings, and the tea.

But Kryze takes no offense, only quirking an eyebrow to say, “Where do you think I got it from?”

For all his evident curiosity this challenge seems to be exactly the sort of query Kryze was waiting for, and he begins to tell Luke all manner of things about himself as they move ever on towards the horizon.

“My mother was the Duchess of Mandalore,” he says. “A pacifist, though you’d never know it by the way the galaxy remembers us. And for a year she was under the protection of my father. They fell in love, as tragically and impossibly as any young person could wish, and when they parted my father left confident in his ignorance, and my mother was left with me. It’s difficult to say who came out ahead in that.”

“I thought the Jedi couldn’t love,” says Luke.

“And whoever told you that nonsense?” asks Kryze. “You told me my father died saving you, and he cannot have done that for anything less than the purest love.”

Luke says nothing to this, only twists a knot of grass off in his hand and releases it to the wind. They walk in strained silence until it becomes comfortable again, and Luke exhales in resignation.

“I only just met my father,” he says. “He tried to kill me.”

Kryze looks at him, then stops to look at him harder. 

“Oh, I see it now,” he says. “You’re a Skywalker. I might have guessed it, but I’m afraid I’m rather out of practice these days.”

“Are you a Jedi, too?”

“No, no,” he scoffs. “Nothing so serious as all that. But I know enough to be able to tell the blaze of a Skywalker from the general inferno of starfire. I know enough to be recognised in turn.”

“Is that why you’re out here? Hiding from the Empire?”

Kryze grimaces at this, and turns back to the path ahead. A shadow looms, rising out of the ground, and he turns their course to that.

“What makes you think I’m hiding?” he asks. Then, before Luke can parse the riddle in this, he continues. “I used to be in the Alliance,” he says. “Wyla, too. We ran intelligence rings, and sabotage missions. We fought. Even had more than a few close calls with the Empire. But at some point, around the time that Wyla found out about Jinn, we decided that was it. We’d done our part. And when the Rebellion left their base here, we stayed behind.”

“The Empire still exists,” says Luke. 

“And it will not be my hand which stops it,” counters Kryze. Then, as the shadow takes the form of a ruined temple sprung from the earth itself, he speaks again. “My parents both died for peace. I think that I owe it to them to live for it. Here we go.”

Vines cling to ancient stone, while tangles of brush climb up and over crumbled walls and gaping cracks in the side of the old building. The trees grow thickly here, still green and lush despite the lateness of the year.

“A wellspring,” explains Kryze, without Luke’s having to ask. 

He guides him past hollowed out chambers pierced only by shafts of dazzling sunlight breaking through fractured ceilings, and bouncing off shallow, invisible puddles within. Animals chirrup in the brush, and birds nest in all the little nooks and crannies of decaying architecture. Though it is long abandoned, there is still something light and sacred about the space. The air is fresher here.

“This is a Jedi place,” breathes Luke.

“It was,” agrees Kryze. “Long before the Empire. Come along. There’s something else.”

Beneath a fall of greenery and fallen rocks lies an opening. 

“What is it?” asks Luke.

“Caves,” says Kryze. Luke looks at him, still uncertain. “I have noticed that you carry no lightsaber,” he explains.

Luke flexes the fingers of his false hand, feeling the pistons and levers firing in time with his desire, but different from the muscles and sinew of his flesh. It cannot be observed by casual inspection, but somehow Kryze seems to know.

“I lost it,” says Luke. 

“Then you shall have to build another.” He gestures again to the cave mouth, and Luke braces himself to go in. He shifts the blaster on his hip, checking the settings. “You won’t need that in there,” says Kyze. “There’s nothing inside but old ghosts.”

He is halfway to moving when he hesitates, and leans back. With his eyes fixed on Kryze’s, Luke unstraps the holster from his side, and hands it and his blaster into the hands of Ben Kenobi’s son. He goes into the caves alone.

It is dark inside, and there is a chill and the sound of water dripping into water somewhere far away. Luke steps carefully. Though the ground is rocky and uneven, his steps are certain and he does not falter. After several minutes of silent exploration, with no strange whispers or startling movement, the fear he entered with begins to fall away, leaving Luke’s mind open to the growing threat of boredom. There is nothing here. He sighs, and turns to leave only to discover the way out has grown just as dark as the path going farther in. He has no torch, no light, and no sabre to guide his path, but his irritation blazes bright enough to guide him and he sets off the way he came. 

When he has walked more than twice the distance he came, and then gone back to walk the distance again, he decides there is little he can do but sit and hope that Kryze will come for him. Surely, he hasn’t brought him here to starve after feeding him so thoroughly only hours ago. And for all that Luke feels helpless in the inky pits of the caves, Kryze had not lied when he said his blaster would be of no use. There is no one here but Luke.

He sets himself down against a stone, the seat of his pants made uncomfortably damp by the floor, and quite to his own surprise, drifts off.

When he wakes, there is light.

All around him are outcroppings of crystals in various shapes and colours. Some shine more brightly than the others, and some glow so fervently it is as though they sing. He reaches out to touch one, and the rest all clamour in harmony to meet him. 

Every thought of escape is eclipsed by the beauty in the caves, and Luke trails his fingers over each crystal that calls out, following their voices deeper and deeper into the caves. Until, in the deepest chamber, on the shores of a vast underground lake, he is met by something which glows brighter than all the crystals combined.

For a moment, he is compelled to shield his eyes, as the flare bursts forth in effulgent magnificence before dying down to live within the confines of an unrecognisable form.

It is a man with long hair, a kind smile, and wearing the robes of a Jedi.

“Hello, little one,” it calls out, and Luke raises his hand in reply. “I was wondering when I might have the chance to meet you.”

“Do I know you?” asks Luke, stepping closer. 

The ghost chuckles. “Not as such,” he replies. “But I know you. You are the student of my student, after all. I am Qui-Gon Jinn.”

“You were Master Obi-Wan’s master!” 

“And Master Yoda’s, too,” brags the ghost, enjoying the awe of Luke’s epiphany, but this is a boast too far, and Luke’s face falls into lines of skepticism.

“That can’t be true,” he says. “Master Yoda is much too old to have been taught by you.”

“Ah, and must education end with the cessation of breath? Cannot knowledge outlast us? Cannot learning outlive us?”

“Can it?” asks Luke.

“We are more than what we do in life, my boy,” says Qui-Gon. He sits upon one of the larger stones which border the edge of the lake, leaving space beside him for Luke. “And there is much to be learned by death, for those brave enough to seek it.”

Luke frowns, and moves to join him, trying to puzzle out the ghost’s philosophy. 

“Are you suggesting -” he looks to the Jedi for confirmation, not convinced of his conclusion. “You’re not saying that we should just give in, are you? That we should just accept death when we could stop it?”

“Not at all,” says Qui-Gon, and Luke relaxes upon the stone. “It’s good that you fight. It’s important you fight. Don’t rush to death in the vain hope that it will bring you easy satisfaction. Life and death - they are balanced. They are equal. And there is much value to be found in both.”

“Is that why Ben let go?” Luke asks. 

“Obi-Wan was wise to concede his life,” says Qui-Gon. “But that does not make his loss any more bearable for you. Or for me. And though I am glad to be with him once again, I will always wish he’d had more time with you.”

There is a smear of clay grown dry upon his knee, and he brushes it off with one hand.

“Me, too,” he says to the ghost.

“But that is Obi-Wan’s lesson for you,” says Qui-Gon, his voice ringing clear across the lake. “He knows what it means to let go, but I -” he says. “I am here to show you how to hold on.”

And in the crystalline light of the caves, and the glittering warmth of the ghost, Luke learns of his lineage, and his family, and all the ways in which he is never alone. Qui-Gon speaks of the past. He tells him of a little boy who struggled and overcame, and a little boy who struggled and fell, and how neither of them loved the other any less. He tells the story of an ancient Order, and a girl queen; of a duchess, and a knight; of children lost to their parents, and parents lost to themselves. He tells of blood, and consequences, and desire, and regret, and joy, and sorrow, and how it all lives on in memory, and in stories, and in relics, and in paintings, and in river stones, and in muja dai-ungo, and in him.

“There is nothing lost,” says Qui-Gon. “So long as you choose to remember it. Neither life, nor love, nor people. Hold on. And don’t let go.”

And as he fades away into darkness, the song of a single crystal cries out, drawing Luke up, and up, and out of the black of the caves into the evening sun.

At the mouth of the hollow, standing with the light in his hair, and Ben Kenobi in his eyes, stands Kiorkicek Kryze. In his hands, a sabre, the kyber inside calling out.

And when Luke touches the hilt, he knows that this one is his.

“I thought it might be you,” says Kryze, smiling. He shifts Luke’s bag high against his shoulder and turns to the setting sun. “Come on,” he says. “They’ll be waiting for us.”

And when he finally returns to his ship, and Artoo, and programmes a course for home, Luke leaves Dantooine by himself, but he is not alone.

[qqueenofhades]

Question for you. When you have time. And if you want. I know things are busy for you. What do you mean by end stage capitalism? Thanks.

Aha. I am sorry that this has been sitting in my inbox for a while, since I’ve been busy and doing stressful things and not sure how to answer this in a way that wouldn’t immediately turn into a pages-long rant. Nothing to do with you, of course, but just because I have 800 things to say on this topic, none of them complimentary, which I’ll try to condense down briefly. Ish.

In sum, end-stage capitalism is at the root of everything that’s wrong with the world today, more or less. It’s the state of being that exists when the economic system of capitalism, i.e. the exchange of money for goods and services, has become so runaway, so unregulated, so elevated to the level of unchallengeable dogma in the Western world (especially after the Cold War and decades of hysteria about the “scourge of communism”) and so embedded on every level of the social and political fabric that it is no longer sustainable but also can’t be destroyed without taking everything else down. Nobody wants to be the actual generation that lives through the fall of capitalism, because it’s going to be cataclysmic on every level, but also… we can’t go on like this. So that’s a fun paradox. The current world order is so drastically, unimaginably, ridiculously and wildly unequal, privileging the tiny elite of the ultra-rich over the rest of the planet, because of hypercapitalism. This really got going in the early 1980s when Ronald Reagan, still generally worshiped as a political hero on both the left and right sides of the American political establishment (even liberals tiptoe around criticizing Saint Ronnie), set into motion a program of slashing business and environment regulations, reducing or eliminating taxes on the super wealthy, and introducing the concept of “trickle-down” or “supply-side” economics. In short, the principle holds that if you make it as easy as possible for rich people to become EVEN MORE RICH, and remove all irksome regulations or restrictions on the Church of the Free Market, they will benevolently redistribute this largess to the little people. To say the very least, this….does not happen. Ever.

Since the 1980s, in short, we have had thirty years of unrestricted, runaway capitalism that eventually propelled us into the financial crisis of 2008, after multiple smaller crises, where the full extent of this philosophy became apparent…. and nobody really did anything about it. You can google statistics about how the price of everything has skyrocketed since about the 1970s, when you could put yourself through college on one part-time job, graduate with no student debt, and be assured of a job for the next 30 years, and how baby boomers (who are responsible for wrecking the economy) insist that millennials are “just lazy” or “killing [insert x industry]”. This is because we have NO GODDAMN MONEY, graduate thousands or hundreds of thousands of dollars in debt (if we can even afford college in the first place), are lucky if we find a job that pays us more than $10 an hour, and often have to string together several part-time and frangible jobs that offer absolutely nothing in the way of security, benefits, or long-term saving potential. This is why millennials at large don’t have kids, buy houses, or have any savings (or any of the traditional “adult” milestones). We just don’t have the money for it.

Even more, capitalism has taken over our mindsets to the point where it is, as I said, at the root of everything that’s wrong with the world. Climate change? Won’t be fixed because the ruling classes are making money from the current system, and if you really want to give yourself an aneurysm, google the profiteers who can’t wait for the environment/society to collapse because they’ll make MORE money off it. This is known as “disaster capitalism” and is what the US has done to other countries for decades. (I also recommend The Shock Doctrine by Naomi Klein.) This obviously directly contributes to the War on Terror, the current global instability, the reason Dick Cheney, Halliburton, Blackwater, and other private-security contractors made a mint from blowing up Iraq and paying themselves to rebuild it, and then the resultant rise of al-Qaeda, ISIS, and other extremist reactionary groups. The bombing produces (often brown and Muslim) refugees and immigrants, Western countries won’t take them in, right-wing politicians make hay out of Threats To Our Way of Life ™, and the circle goes on. Gun control? Can’t happen because a) American white supremacy is too deeply tied to its paranoid right to have as many guns as it wants and to destroy the Other at any time, and b) the NRA pays senators by the gigabucks to make sure it doesn’t. (And we all know what an absolute goddamn CLUSTERFUCK the topic of big money and American politics is in the first place. It’s just… a nightmare in every direction.)

Meanwhile, end-stage capitalism has also systematically assigned value to society and to individuals depending entirely on their prospects for monetization. Someone who can’t work, or who doesn’t work the “right” job, is thus assigned less value as a human (see all the right-wing screaming about people who “don’t deserve” to have any kind of social and financial assistance or subsidized food and medicine if they won’t “help themselves”). This is how we get to situations where we have the ads that I kept seeing in London the other month: apps where you could share your leftover food, or rent out your own car, or collectively rent an apartment, or whatever else. Because apparently if you live in London in 2019, there is no expectation that you will be able to have your own food, car, or apartment. You have to crowdsource it. (See also: people having to beg strangers on the internet for money for food or medical bills, and strangers on the internet doing more to help that person than the whole system and/or the person’s employment or living situation.) There is nothing inherently wrong with capitalism as an economic theory. Exchanging money for goods and services is understandable and it works. But when it has run out of control to this degree, when the people who suffer the most under it fiercely defend it (see the working-class white people absolutely convinced that the reason for their problems is Those Damn Job Stealing Immigrants), when it only works for the interests of a few uber-privileged few and is actively killing everyone else… yeah.

Let’s put it this way. You will likely have heard of the two fatal crashes of Boeing 737 Max airplanes in recent months: the Lion Air crash in October 2018 and the Ethiopian Airlines crash in March 2019. Together, they killed 346 people. After these crashes, it turned out that the same malfunctioning system was responsible for both, and that Boeing had known of the problem before the Max went on the market. But because they needed to make (even more) money and compete with their rivals, Airbus, they had sent the planes ahead anyway, with unclear and confusing instruction to pilots about how to deal with it, and generally not acknowledging the problem and insisting (as they still do) that the plane was safe, even though it’s been grounded worldwide since March. There are also concerns that the Federal Aviation Administration (FAA) is too deep in Boeing’s pocket to provide an impartial ruling (and America was the last country to ground the plane), and other countries’ aviation safety bodies have announced that they aren’t just going to take the FAA’s word for it whenever they decide that the Max is safe. This almost never happens, since usually international regulatory bodies, especially in aviation, will accept each other’s standards. But because of Boeing’s need for Even More Money, they put a plane on the market and into commercial passenger service that they knew had problems, and the FAA essentially let them do that and isn’t entirely trusted to ensure that they won’t do it again. Because…. value for the shareholders. Or something. This is the extreme example of what I mean when I say that end-stage capitalism is actively killing people.

It is also doing so on longer-term and more pernicious everyday levels. See above where people can’t afford their basic expenses even on several jobs, see the insulin price-gouging in the US (and the big pharma efforts in general to make drugs and healthcare as expensive as possible), see the way any kind of welfare or social assistance is framed as “lazy” or “bad” or “socialist,” see the way that people are basically only allowed to survive if they can pay for it, and the way that circle is becoming smaller and smaller. The American public is also fed enduring folk “wisdom” about “money doesn’t buy happiness,” the belief that poverty serves to build character or as an example of virtue, or so on, to make them feel proud of being poor/deprived/that they’re doing a good thing by actively supporting this system that is responsible for their own suffering. And yet for example, the Nordic countries (while obviously having other problems of their own) maintain the Scandinavian welfare model, which pays for college and healthcare, provides for individual stipends/basic income, allows generous leave for parenthood, emphasises a unionised workplace, and otherwise prescribes a mix of capitalism, social democracy, and social mobility. All the Nordic countries rank highly for human development, overall happiness, and other measurements of social success. But especially in America, any suggestion of “socialism” is treated like heresy, and unions are a dirty word. That is changing, but…slowly.

In short: the economic overlords have never done anything to give power, money, or anything at all to the working class without being repeatedly and explicitly forced, they have no good will or desire to treat the poor like humans (see: Amazon) or anything at all that doesn’t increase their already incomprehensible profit margins. The pursuit of more money that cannot possibly be spent in one human lifetime, that is accumulated, used to make laws for itself, and never paid in taxes to fund improvements or services for everyone else, lies at the root of pretty much every problem you can name in the world right now, is deeply, deeply evil, and I do not use that word lightly.

[exxar1]

Episode 5: Why Machiavelli Would Never Wear a Mask (And Why You Shouldn’t Either)

12/9/2020

Last week’s episode of the Young Heretics podcast was about The Prince by Niccolo Machiavelli. The Prince is one of those classics of western lit that I’ve never actually read – or even taken a college class where this was one of the texts. What little I remember about this text is from history class during my junior year in high school. Mrs. Jones (no relation) told us that Machiavelli wrote The Prince as a treatise on political philosophy. He believed that the ends justified the means, and that the best way for a prince to retain power over the people was to rule by fear rather than love. The word “Machavellian” has always been used as a pejorative description in our modern society, often referring to those people who are cold, heartless, and unfeeling. Machiavelli’s name has become synonymous with those characters in popular movies, books and TV shows that attempt to control other characters and events by using various means of deceit and guile.

Now, to be fair, Mrs. Jones’ interpretation and summary of The Prince is not entirely wrong. I did a brief Google search on Machiavelli and The Prince, and about half the links of my search results reaffirmed that view. The other half, however, offered a surprisingly different take on The Prince, one that is also shared by Spencer Klavan on Young Heretics. That podcast is now 29 episodes old, but this is the first one that has presented me with something entirely new – both the text itself and the interpretation of it.

In his advice to the titular prince, Lorenzo de Medici, Machiavelli instructs him on how to best maintain power and control of his subjects and his state. The best way to do this, Machiavelli believed, was for the prince to be feared rather than loved. Also, at times, it would be necessary to use what many would consider to be unjust or immoral means in order to sustain that power and control. Hence Machiavelli’s negative reputation in the history books and modern culture.

But Spencer makes the argument that Machiavelli’s reputation is ill-earned. There’s more to this Italian philosopher than what has been passed down in the history books. To put it simply, Machiavelli was a realist. He addressed human nature – and human behavior – in harsh, realistic terms. This was how Machiavelli viewed the world. To use our vernacular, he didn’t sugarcoat the bad stuff. He understood how people behaved – both the ones in power and the ones being ruled – and he framed his advice to his prince in these simple, realistic terms.

I’ve spent the last several days thinking about this episode, and I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Spencer chose this episode to air when it did. All over the country, many state governors have issued lockdown orders for their principalities in response to a renewed surge in positive cases of COVID-19. As any of you who know me – either in real life or via social media – can attest, I am a rabid believer in the battle against face masks and the lockdowns. I’m also a firm believer in the actual science – as opposed to the political nonsense spouted by Doctor Fauci and his panel of “experts” – that says over and over how useless and pointless the masks are in the efforts to stop the spread of the corona virus. And, as you also know, I have plenty of time on my hands to think while at my day job, and the other day I came to a rather startling conclusion:

We should all be more like Machiavelli.

When exactly did we, the American people, become a nation of whiny, spoiled, self-entitled sissies? A nation of people who are so terrified of the possibility of dying that we happily give up our most basic freedoms and cower inside our homes or behind masks? Because that's exactly what's happened. The basic liberties and routines of our daily lives and, for many, their very livelihoods, were suddenly halted and/or shut down by our state governors who were acting in response to so-called science and medical “experts” in the effort to save a small, vulnerable percentage of our population. I've lost count of the number of times I've read  on social media posts in the last 6 months about how pro-maskers wear a mask to protect their 85 year old grandmother or their 70 year old father. I've been called “heartless” and “pro-Nazi” from strangers in the comments section of news articles whenever I respond with the same argument that I'm going to put forth here.

We of the last couple generations have become so soft and spoiled and lazy that we've forgotten just how harsh and deadly real life can often be. And I'm including myself in that crowd. Those of us born in the last four decades of the 20th century have known nothing but prosperity and comfort, especially if – like me – you grew up in a typically middle class household. This is even more true of anyone born after 1995. I'm speaking of the generation that has never known life without Starbucks, Amazon, Google or a cell phone; the generation that grew up using laptop computers and watching TV by streaming it on the internet. In fact, we've become so complacent that we don't even have to leave our comfort zones to order a Big Mac from McDonald's or groceries from Walmart. When I was growing up in the 80s, I remember having to wait an eternity (4-6 weeks) for a toy to arrive that I had mail-ordered from a Sears catalog. Nowadays, I complain if my Amazon package isn't on my doorstep within 24 hours.

For pretty much all of us, 2020 was a massive wake-up call; a Mike-Tyson-punch-to-the-face or dive-into-Lake-Michigan-in-the-middle-of-December kind of wake-up call. None of us were prepared for a pandemic whose projected death toll was in the millions. Everyone from the top down – the president, our congressmen, our state governors, the national and local health experts – reacted instinctively. The medical experts, especially, were very quick to panic, based primarily on preliminary reports from European countries and China. Many state governors – most of them Democrats – were quick to declare a state of emergency and issue a lockdown order for their respective principalities. Hundreds of thousands of Americans were suddenly without work. Unemployment claims shot through the stratosphere. Congress approved an economic stimulus package. Everyone in the government – both national and local – assured us citizens that the lockdowns were temporary, two months at most.

But, of course, two months became three, then four, and by mid-July, many states were still in phase one or two of their “re-opening”. By this point, even the liberal-controlled mainstream media was reporting on the sudden spike of suicides in the lockdown states. Millions of unemployment claims were stuck in severe backlog, and more and more workers were being put on furlough by their employers – or just simply laid off. Here in Las Vegas, for example, the entire strip was a complete ghost town from mid-March to mid-June. This city's economy is utterly dependent on the tourism industry, and, with all casinos and hotels completely closed, the city as a whole suffered greatly. It's still suffering, in fact, even though most of the strip has been open since mid-July. Almost all the hotels and casinos can only afford to be open from Thursday to Sunday. Thousands here are still unemployed or working two part time jobs for barely minimum wage just to make basic ends meet.

And now, as I write this, our governor – along with those of California, New York, and many others – has declared a second round of lockdowns. In California, both Governor Newsom and the mayor of L.A. have banned indoor AND outdoor dining at all restaurants. And again, we the citizens have been told that this is for our own safety, and that these lockdowns will be temporary. One doesn’t have to look far on Twitter or Facebook to see cell phone videos of desperate, tearful, and/or furious restaurant and bar owners engaged in verbal rages about the injustice of all of this.

Here’s what should have happened clear back in February of this year:

Our leaders – our princes, if you will – both national and local, should have consulted not only the medical experts but also a team of economic and social advisors. The governors of every state should have taken a long, hard look at the long term cost of even a brief economic shutdown versus the projected death toll in the short term if COVID-19 was allowed to run its natural course through the U.S. population. You can already see where I’m headed with this. Our governors chose to shut down their states, to close all “non-essential” businesses, and ordered all citizens to self-quarantine. This was only supposed to be for a few weeks, at most. But we’ve all witnessed the long term effects of these shutdowns – skyrocketing unemployment rates, a rapid, severe spike in suicides and domestic abuse cases, and children who are falling so far behind in school due to “distance learning” that many will simply end up dropping out or repeating the same grade for another year.

Our princes should have been more like Machiavelli. They should have allowed life to continue as normal – no mask mandates, no social distancing orders, and most definitely no mandatory quarantines. Instead, the princes should have advised all citizens that the choice was theirs to self-quarantine or not, and that face masks would also be encouraged but completely optional. The result of this, of course, would mean a very high death toll in the short term. There would be no way to avoid this. As we already know now, face masks and social distancing are pointless and useless when it comes to preventing the spread of COVID. The highest numbers of fatalities would be among those older than 65. Hospitals and morgues would be overwhelmed. Emergency triage centers would have to be established in parking lots and empty football stadiums. For a month or two, the news headlines would be filled each day with the most recent death tolls.

But then, into the third month, the death count would start to go down. As herd immunity was finally achieved, life would, slowly but surely, get back to normal. And through it all, there would have been a slight drop in the regular business of many restaurants, movie theaters, and other recreational businesses that rely on tourism and seasonal traffic. But, ultimately, the country would have recovered from this much faster than they will in our present timeline. As it stands now, hundreds of thousands of small businesses across America have gone bankrupt and closed their doors for good. Even major restaurant chains like Ruby Tuesday and Sweet Tomatoe’s have permanently closed many – if not all – their locations. In the alternate timeline, where they had been allowed to remain open with no restrictions of any kind on the number of customers they were allowed to have inside at any time, these businesses would most likely still be up and running.

Yes, that means that your 75 year old father or your 90 year old grandma would have probably died. But that’s life. Like Machiavelli, I’m not gonna sugarcoat it. Life is hard. If you haven’t figured that out by now, you’re in for a long and frustrating existence on this earth. And lest you think I’m speaking from some superior, unaffected, condescending platform where I have not experienced any loss or hardship this year, let me remind of you of my blog post about my close friend Aaron Walker from a month ago. No, his death was not the result of COVID, as far as I know, but it was sudden, and it was completely unexpected. I’m still feeling his loss. But you know what? Life goes on. We mourn the dead, we bury them, and then we move on. Death is a fact of life. Machiavelli would have understood that, and so should all of us in 2020. This year has seen a lot of death, more than anything in recent decades, in fact. But that’s life. That’s the way life goes sometimes, and trying to avoid that inevitability by forcing face masks and quarantine and shutting down businesses on a whim is not going to change that simple fact.

I know many of you reading this are probably screaming at your phone screen right now, calling me all kinds of names and cursing me. “How can you be so heartless????” you rave. “How can you allow so many elderly and innocents to die just so you can still go to the movies or sit down at McDonald’s to enjoy your iced coffee and Big Mac????” “You’re a murderer because you still refuse to wear a mask in public!!!!”

And you know what? You’re absolutely right. I am probably infecting others by not wearing a mask. I do still want to go to a movie on Friday night and pig out on overpriced popcorn and soda. I do enjoy going out to eat at least once a week with all my friends. And yep, I’m perfectly fine with accepting the reality that many people are going to die because our governors refused to sacrifice the whole society in the chance that it might save a few innocent lives.

In other words, “The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, or the one.” That edict is as true today as when Spock said it to Captain Kirk in Star Trek 2 in 1982. Machiavelli would have completely understood that statement, and he also would have understood this: that which doesn’t kill us makes us stronger. We humans have been spreading disease to one another ever since Adam and Eve were cast out of the Garden of Eden. Death, you see, is the natural consequence of sin. Death is unavoidable, and death comes for us all. For some of us, we are lucky enough to live rich, full lives. For others, death comes all too soon. My grandfather will be 90 years old this year on December 31st. If I were to ask him today if he were ready to shuffle off this mortal coil and be welcomed into the arms of our Heavenly Father, his answer would be an immediate and resounding, “Yes!”. Your 75 year old father or your 85 year old grandmother are most likely looking forward to death. That doesn’t mean you should just kill them now by your own hand to hasten the inevitable. But it does mean that they are ready to meet their maker if their number is up. (And, by the way, is not more cruel to force the elderly to slowly waste away alone, locked up in forced quarantine in nursing homes, not allowed to see or even speak to their loved ones until they eventually die of depression, loneliness or COVID???)

COVID-19 is an act of God. It’s a chance of nature, a random thing that has struck the human race, and none of us have the power to change it or ward it off or protect ourselves and our loved ones against its wrath. As we have been doing since the Tower of Babel, we humans have infected one another and survived many, many plagues worse than this one. So you need to stop your whining, stop your complaining, pick yourself up, and get on with your fucking life. And, while you’re at it, you might want to open your Bible and get acquainted with your Creator. Because, sooner or later, you’re gonna meet him, and if you have not accepted his son, Jesus Christ, as your lord and savior, you will spend eternity in a place that makes COVID look like a summer’s vacation in the Florida Keys.

So, in conclusion, be more like Machiavelli. Throw away your damn mask, rise up against the tyranny of our modern princes, and help me get our lives back to normal. If we do not stand up for our freedoms we will most assuredly lose every last one of them.

Mmmmm-kay???

(And, by the way, if you haven’t been listening to Young Heretics, I strongly advise you to drop everything and begin immediately. Look it up on YouTube or wherever you get your podcasts. It will change your life. 

You’re welcome.)

[xtruss]

“Most Important Indian Law Case in Half a Century”: Supreme Court Upholds Tribal Sovereignty in OK!

In a landmark decision, the Supreme Court has ruled that much of eastern Oklahoma, constituting nearly half the state, falls within an Indian reservation, recognizing a 19th century U.S. treaty with the Muscogee (Creek) Nation. Justice Neil Gorsuch, a Trump nominee, joined the court’s liberal wing in a narrow 5-4 ruling that found state authorities cannot criminally prosecute Indigenous peoples under state or local laws. The court’s bombshell decision — which also impacts the Cherokee, Chickasaw, Choctaw and Seminole Nations — is a major victory for Indigenous sovereignty and treaty rights. “It’s a landmark case, and probably the most important Indian law case in the last half a century to come down from the court,” says lawyer Sarah Deer, a citizen of the Muscogee (Creek) Nation of Oklahoma and a professor at the University of Kansas. “The language of the decision itself goes far beyond Oklahoma.”

AMY GOODMAN: This is Democracy Now! The Quaranatine Report. I’m Amy Goodman.

In a major victory for Indigenous sovereignty, the Supreme Court ruled Thursday that about half of Oklahoma remains Native American land, recognizing a 19th century U.S. treaty with the Muscogee (Creek) Nation in a narrow 5-to-4 ruling.

Justice Neil Gorsuch, who joined the court’s liberal wing, wrote the majority opinion. It began, quote, “On the far end of the Trail of Tears was a promise. Forced to leave their ancestral lands in Georgia and Alabama, the Creek Nation received assurances that their new lands in the West would be secure forever. … Because Congress has not said otherwise, we hold the government to its word,” he wrote.

The landmark decision is based on the case of Jimcy McGirt, a Native man who the state of Oklahoma convicted in 1997 for sex crimes against a 4-year-old child on Muscogee (Creek) land. McGirt argued that because the crime took place on the tribe’s territory, the state had no jurisdiction to try his case — a claim the Supreme Court affirmed in its decision.

Cherokee writer and advocate Rebecca Nagle tweeted, quote, “The big news at the Supreme Court today will be Trumps taxes. But for Indians in Oklahoma, we’ll be talking about today for decades. After a century of #Oklahoma not following our treaty rights, the Supreme Court said no more. Eastern Oklahoma is Indian Country,” she wrote.

Well, for more on this historic ruling, we go to Lawrence, Kansas, where we’re joined by Sarah Deer, citizen of the Muscogee (Creek) Nation, lawyer, professor at the University of Kansas, author of The Beginning and End of Rape: Confronting Sexual Violence in Native America.

Welcome to Democracy Now!, Sarah Deer. Can you talk about the significance of the Supreme Court ruling, penned by none other than President Trump’s appointee, Neil Gorsuch?

SARAH DEER: Well, thank you for having me, first of all.

You know, it’s really interesting that the politics on the court don’t necessarily, when it comes to Indian Country, fall into a liberal-conservative division. Indian law is kind of unique in that way. In fact, Justice Ginsburg, who, of course, is a woman attorney I have utmost respect for, has not always sided with tribal interests.

But Gorsuch was an interesting selection, because although his social justice issues on other matters are problematic, he actually has a pretty good track record in the 10th Circuit of recognizing and acknowledging tribal rights. And so, when he was nominated, in fact, the National Congress of American Indians supported his nomination, because they saw in his writings in the lower courts that he really did understand tribal sovereignty and was willing to look at the history in order to resolve disputes.

AMY GOODMAN: So, again, this ruling says that half of Oklahoma is Native American land. What does this mean?

SARAH DEER: Well, I have to say that’s not entirely accurate. It doesn’t mean that the land is all under tribal control now. What this does is it reasserts the boundaries of the reservation so we know to the extent to which the tribe would have certain kinds of criminal authority. But, in fact, for most people who have private land, who own private businesses within the confines of the reservation, will not be affected by this decision. It primarily affects the ability of the tribal government to assert itself in partnership with the federal government, but it doesn’t change the status of, say, privately owned land.

AMY GOODMAN: So, let’s talk about what Ruth Bader Ginsburg and others raised, the issue of the thousands of convictions that have taken place there, put people in jail. What does this mean now?

SARAH DEER: Well, I think there’s a lot of overstatements of this potential problem of releasing, you know, thousands of criminals into the streets. There’s been no indication that there’s a trend going in that direction. Even though there have been two victories in the 10th Circuit on behalf of Native people, we don’t see a flood of Native people using these cases to try to get released.

And in fact, what will happen in most of the serious cases, so the cases involving things like murder and rape and child sexual abuse, is those will not be — those convictions may be overturned in the sense that Oklahoma was the wrong government to be prosecuting them, but there’s no doubt that the federal government will take some of those folks into custody and ensure that the community is safe.

AMY GOODMAN: And, of course, Jimcy McGirt, the man who brought this case, who won, it doesn’t mean he goes free. It means he has to be tried in a federal court now rather than a state court. Is that right?

SARAH DEER: Exactly. And, in fact, he could be tried in tribal court, as well, because the tribe also shares that jurisdiction. The tribe, though, has very limited power to, say, impose incarceration or fines. And so, oftentimes with these very, very serious crimes, the federal government is the only one that can provide the kind of safety the community might be looking for.

AMY GOODMAN: The ruling was based on the Muscogee (Creek) Nation’s historic claims but could also affect four other tribes: the Cherokee, the Chickasaw, the Choctaw and Seminole tribes. I think Jimcy McGirt is Seminole. Can you talk about the wider implications of this?

SARAH DEER: Sure. Well, it’s a landmark case and probably the most important Indian law case in the last half a century to come down from the court. It’s that powerful. Certainly, the other four tribes that were on the Trail of Tears — the Cherokees, as you mentioned, and the like — they have very similar treaties that the Creek Nation has. And so, while there might be some nuance and difference in terms of exactly how the treaty plays out for these other tribes, essentially, the question about what these treaties mean has been answered by the court, and so it would be unlikely that the state would be able to litigate successfully against those tribes to try to sort of retain their control over those reservation boundaries.

And beyond that, just the language of the decision itself goes far beyond Oklahoma, because they’re reiterating — what Gorsuch is doing is reiterating some foundational principles of tribal sovereignty. And so his analysis will have implications for all kinds of Indian law cases yet to come.

AMY GOODMAN: So, you have Neil Gorsuch referencing the Trail of Tears. Describe for us that history. What happened? What forced so many Native Americans into Oklahoma?

SARAH DEER: Well, there were just many, many wealthy people who wanted access to the land, the plantation land that was so valuable to white landowners in that time period. See, we were in what is now Alabama and Georgia, where the plantation economies were at their strongest. And Indians were in the way. And Indians didn’t want to move.

And so, despite the fact that the court in that time period said that the president didn’t have the right to remove the tribes, Andrew Jackson did just that and defied the Supreme Court, marched all five tribes at bayonet point to what is now Oklahoma, against our will. And when we got there, we were promised that we would have the land there forever.

AMY GOODMAN: And talk about how President Andrew Jackson fits into this story, President Trump saying it was his favorite president, and now, for example, the Jackson City Council in Mississippi voting to take down the statute to Andrew Jackson.

SARAH DEER: Yes. Andrew Jackson was a brutal man. And he, particularly around my tribe, my tribal’s history, the Creek Nation, engaged in warfare, dehumanized us, called us names, had no interest in compassion to be exerted towards our people, and really just marched us to a death march, west to Oklahoma, and many, many tribal members died along the way because the circumstances were so dire. So we associate — the five tribes in Oklahoma that we’ve been talking about do not have any affinity or affection for Andrew Jackson. He has been the cause of much of our troubles over the last two centuries.

AMY GOODMAN: Sarah Deer, you’re a citizen of the Muscogee (Creek) Nation. You’re author of the book The Beginning and End of Rape: Confronting Sexual Violence in Native America. This case that the Supreme Court historic decision is based on, Jimcy McGirt was involved in sexually attacking a 4-year-old child. You have looked at violence against women and girls for years. Put it in that context for us.

SARAH DEER: Sure. Well, it certainly seems odd for me to advocate on behalf of a sex offender, given my work. But in this case, I see a larger issue about safety for Native women and girls and two-spirit people who are victims of violence, because what this is doing is, while, yes, this McGirt case conviction is overturned, what I would like to see happen, going forward, now that we have this case, is that actually the tribe can pick up some of these cases, because now our territorial reach is larger, and so we can engage in crime control in a larger area of the reservation.

And I believe that tribal sovereignty is going to be key to protecting people from violence, because the state doesn’t have a vested interest in necessarily the safety of the reservation. The federal government is far away, you know, taking down Enron and large-scale drug trafficking rings. And I would like to see the tribal nations, who do have criminal jurisdiction — now that’s expanded territorially — to really pick up these cases and try to resolve them in a way that’s going to make the community safe but not necessarily replicate the law-and-order model of the state and federal governments.

AMY GOODMAN: Sarah Deer, can you talk about how the media has covered this historic Supreme Court decision on the last day of the Supreme Court’s term, coming down the same day, of course, as the ruling on President Trump’s tax returns?

SARAH DEER: Sure. Well, I can say the wait has been grueling. We’ve been waiting for this decision for well over a year and a half. I think that the headlines that I’m seeing, even in more sympathetic media, are sort of overstating the case and, I think, creating a lot of fear and anxiety for people in Oklahoma. It doesn’t give land back, per se. And there’s nothing that the tribe will be able to do to move people off their privately owned land or run their privately owned businesses. Very little is going to change on the ground for non-Indians. And so, when I see headlines like, you know, “The Tribe Has Been Given Back Land,” it overstates it quite a bit. While it’s still an important case, it’s not giving the tribe power over most people that live on the reservation who are non-Native.

AMY GOODMAN: And so, putting this in the context of all the protests in this country right now around racial injustice, around the whole Black Lives Matter movement, around people of color being so violated over the years, yet not recognized, changing the narrative, can you talk about how you see this decision changing the narrative and fitting into this uprising around the country?

SARAH DEER: Sure. Well, I think that the way Gorsuch — Gorsuch is a beautiful writer. And there’s no doubt in my mind that he used logic and legal reasoning to reach his decision. But his writing conveys something a little bit more, that we typically don’t see from the court, and that is a sense of empathy and compassion. And again, I’m not suggesting that was the basis of his decision, but to offer that in the rhetoric of his prose gives me great, great hope.

And I do think that this is coming at a very interesting time. While this case actually precedes the rising up of the contemporary Black Lives Matter movement, I think it’s part of that same — the same effort to raise awareness about oppression. And I think that Native people owe a debt of gratitude to the leadership of Black Lives Matter, because in raising those issues of race and injustice, we’ve also been able to elevate the issues of Native racism and injustice. And people who are sympathetic to the Black Lives Matter movement are more amenable to the sympathies for Native people. So I think it’s not a coincidence that this case comes out at that kind of time.

AMY GOODMAN: We have to leave it there. Sarah Deer, citizen of the Muscogee (Creek) Nation, we thank you so much. I’m Amy Goodman. Stay safe.

Map of Indian Lands in the United States - Indian Affairs

[ziobrowski]

Cisza wyborcza już wkrótce

Ciekawe, co o wyborach sądzi pan Gniot, który tak trafnie przewidział wynik poprzednich wyborów?

Poniższe emaile najprawdopodobniej zostały wysłane z naruszeniem ciszy wyborczej oraz stanowią agitację w zakładzie pracy. Niestety nikt z SII nie miał jaj tego zgłosić.

-------- Original Message -------- Subject: Small though after debate tonight... FW: Small though after presidential elections Date: 2015-10-20 23:46 From: Gregoire Nitot Dear colleagues, I just watch election debate on TV. My feeling : · Kukiz seems the worst candidate. He has some courage & passion. But he has no respect to other candidates, other parties, no tolerance, no management capacity, dangerous ideas. Serious & mature Polish people should not vote for such candidate. · I never liked PIS : o They have unrealistic promises which will expand Polish budget deficit. They will increase corporate & social security taxes in order to realize those populist promises (increase ZUS, PIT, CIT). So companies like Sii & employees with "_high_" salaries (majority of Sii workers!) will suffer with PIS. o They plan to implement not efficient ; complex & costly tax system, complex rules. o They say that they support Polish people? In fact they are anti many Polish people unfortunately ; anti rich people for example, anti non catholic people, anti-large companies with foreign capital (pity because those companies give us work & pay large taxes in Poland), anti-banks, anti EU, anti-foreigners, anti-businessmen... o Moreover it may be a dangerous party for press liberty & democracy... · SLD / Barbara Nowacka (ZL), or Adrian Zandberg (partia razem): some nice & generous ideas ; good for poor Ppeople... But they will increase taxes of companies like Sii. They don't like neither large multinational companies & their management. They will increase taxes to high salaries ; so it will be not good for Sii & our customers. (Once corporations will stop to invest in Poland because of bad tax system ; it will not be good for anybody ; rich & poor Polish people !). · Korwin -Mikke : his promise & liberal ideas are great for companies like Sii & businessmen like me! But crazy guy ; racist ; anti homosexuals ; anti EU ; not credible ; not serious. Poland should not be managed by a clown. · PO & PSL : not the worst. Main risk is that they may stop freelance contracts... · Best for Sii seems Ryszard Petru & Nowoczesna party! So If we want to support Sii growth ; we should probably vote to Ryszard Petru... ! But of course everybody is free to vote for anybody. Majority of Sii colleagues do not share my point of view ; & hundreds will vote some PIS ! We respect all Polish political parties in Sii, even PIS! Challenge is that in order to have nice life, assure good education for our children, good hospitals, good salaries ; we need solid economy with solid companies like Sii. It is actually those companies which recruit us, pay our salaries & invoices, pay taxes, PIT & ZUS which enable to finance healthcare, retirement, civil servants or education systems for example. Dobranoc! (sorry for spam for colleagues who don't care about Polish politics). Gregoire Nitot Prezes & founder PS : I sent few months ago email to all after Polish presidential election ; email below… Some people liked it ; some others hated it ; majority probably did not care or did not read this email… I read critics even few weeks ago after this previous email sent in May 2015. (Actually I'm reading each month annual interviews of each Sii workers ; in particular I read what people don't like about Sii, critics & change propositions). Few Sii workers wrote in their annual interview that they did not like my email & that it is my role to comment on Politics. I respect their idea ; their critics ; but I comment whenever I want… If some Sii workers are not happy with that… Trudno !!!!! My objective is not to be nice with Sii workers ; be popular ; be appreciated ; promise everything like Beata Szydlo ; but simply I try to take good decisions ; in order to build solid company on a long term basis, healthy, fair, with good reputation, better company than our competitors... So I try to recruit & promote best leaders for example ; try to implement best processes, organization & rules… + I always try to execute our 15 core values like transparency, fairness, trust, courage or respect. But hopefully I'm not the only one who build this company. It is not my company ; but ours. Thousands of people build Sii Poland. All of us build it. So thank you very much. It is great to build this company together ! J FROM: Gregoire Nitot TO: all@pl.sii.eu SUBJECT: Small though after presidential elections Czesc, I'm a bit sad after Polish presidential elections… L Duda is perhaps not a bad guy ? But I don't like PIS party. I hate PIS ideas. Of course PO has some big shortcomings. I'm not neither a PO fan. They can do more in order to transform, modernize & improve the country we live in. They can be more courageous, taking sometimes tough decisions, unpopular ; but for the long term good of Poland and its citizens. But PO is not the worst party neither. Their KPI is good : unemployment figures, growth, privatization, EU & US relations… So how above half of Polish people can vote for PIS ??? I don't understand that. It is like above half of Polish people complain about their life. Why ? Poland is a wonderful country, great culture, democratic, great people, great history… We are all extremely lucky to live in Poland. We have a unique chance to live here. + Poland realizes an amazing economic performance for 10 years ; with amazing growth ; with amazing opportunities & progress for millions of Poles : possibility to buy house or flat, travel, etc…. All Polish people profit of this growth ; not only rich people. (This performance is not due to PO ; but due to EU funds & milliards of foreign investments which come to Poland each day). So why so many Polish people complain about their life, voting for PIS ? Actually according to me PIS is : · EUROSCEPTIC, against EU party ; scared about foreigners, immigrants… o Of course EU has tremendous shortcomings. EU has bad constitution, too complex, too bureaucratic. It needs approval of 28 countries in order to make any decision. So obviously it can't work. Nobody understands who has the power between European Parliament, Commission, head of states (Tusk). (But EU has a bad constitution & is not efficient because each EU state is egoistic, thinking only about own interest ; not interest of the majority ; & none of those states want to lose its sovereignty to EU. Me I'm a strong defender of EU integration). o For example Sii is a strong company because there is a clear leader & boss (me), able to make fast decisions. If I had to consult each subject with 28 people & get approval of all of them before making any decision ; overhead cost would be huge, organization would be not efficient at all, we would not be agile ; flexible, fast. We would lose against all our competitors ; companies from Poland ; but also competitors from Romania, Bulgaria, Serbia, India, China ; & we would go bankrupt soon. o BUT : § Without EU funds ; Sii would not open Lublin DC for example ; would not open branch in Katowice, would not create hundreds of jobs in Poland. Actually Sii received 20 M PLN EU funds since 2008…; We reinvest those 20 M PLN in Poland, created hundreds of jobs ; took some risks we would not have taken without those funds. Sii pays dozens on millions of taxes each year to Poland : ZUS, PIT, CIT, PFRON, ZFSS,... (I'll actualize next week our amount of taxes paid in Poland in 2014 : http://sii.pl/kluczowe-liczby-i-fakty/ [1] ) Those taxes are used to build roads, hospitals, sponsor police, justice, pay retirement… § Poland is growing, becoming better, mainly Thanks to EU funds & International investors. So Poland should be very happy with EU § Thanks to EU there are no war in Europe for the 1st time since centuries… · PIS IS AGAINST BUSINESSMEN like me. Against foreign investors. They'd like Polish state or Polish people to control everything : banks, retailers, big companies… If i would not come in Poland in January 2006 ; there would not be Sii Poland. + I'm a French guy ; but I'm more honest than huge majority of Polish businessman (I have a Polish "wife" (I'm not married), Polish children. So I'm a bit Polish also. I try to obtain Polish nationality). Poland should be very happy that I emigrated here 9,5 years ago. Thanks to me Poland receive hundreds of M PLN of taxes… So why PIS do not like those businessmen like me ? Once again Sii is a great chance for Poland. Actually we contribute to Poland growth, to Poland success. Poland achieves success thanks to company like Sii, Intel, Roche, Volvo, Gemalto, Citi, Credit Suisse, Sabre, ABB, Mbank, etc… · POPULIST party ; not courageous ; but telling what Polish people would like to ear ; claiming for example that it would reduce retirement age. Stupid! Awful management control proposition. People are living older. Who will pay for those retirement? How PIS will finance that ? Increasing ZUS ? So foreign companies will stop to invest in Poland… · TOO MUCH PATRIOTIC party ; which do not respect & care about others. It cares only about egoistic Poland interest. It is not ready to make compromise with EU partners ; or even with Russia & other countries. Personally I'm not a patriot. I don't care about homeland. I am deeply ready to Fight & Die for ideas. I would fight against Hitler, against Stalin, against Communism, against Fascism, against Nazism. But i would not make war & die for any flag, any country ! There are more important ideas / ideals in Life than defending Poland, France or any country. I'd prefer to help those poor African people who are risking their life crossing Mediterranean sea in order to enter Europe ; than helping Polish or French politicians. I obviously always support France or Polish teams in sport. I love Polish or French traditions ; traditions & culture from Kaszuby or any part of the world. Good that we are all different. But We all live in 1 world. Each human should have chance to have a decent life. So I Hate this patriotic idea. Why those boundaries ? Why some people who get born in poorer part of the world should not have chance to realize their dream ; like we can do it in Poland or France ? Rich countries should help poorer countries ; like richer EU citizens help Poland citizens with EU funds. · TOO MUCH RELIGIOUS party ; narrow-minded ; racist. I come from catholic family. My mother & 1 sister are going to the church each Sunday. But I don't believe in god. Actually I'm convince god & religions are a human invention in order to keep hope despite death. Anyway I'm generally tolerant to each religion. I have great Catholic, Protestant, Jewish or Muslim friends. But I think religion should not be present in politics. PIS is a racist party against Jewish, against Arab, against Muslims... PIS cares too much about religion. PIS listen too much religious people ; sometimes dangerous extremist people. I hate too religious / fundamentalist people : Muslims, Jewish, Christians, Hinduisms... All those fundamentalists ; those terrorists ; no matter from which religion ; are very dangerous for human kind. Religions cause wars. Religions cause hate between people. So some small though. Long email at night… Many colleagues may think "who is this stupid guy" ? Some may resign from Sii. Trudno. I'm not happy with this election & I tell it. But I know some Top Sii Directors are PIS fans… I will not fire them ! (I like very much their honestly). I'm always tolerant to different ideas! We need different ideas ; different points of view to be better together. I won't quit Poland & Sii will continue to invest in Poland. But i feel sad now. I did not believe 53% Polish people would vote for PIS... I should create new Political party perhaps... Party which defends our 14 values, party who will defend people worldwide ; Power People from any country, any culture, any religion! Perhaps 1 day ? I'll send more interesting email next week ; communicating our financial results, success et failures of the year, plans & objectives for coming months… I'm waiting for management weekend this week to send this report after to all at the beginning of next week Cheers, Greg Best regards, Pozdrawiam, GREGOIRE NITOT Prezes / CEO Sii Sp. z o.o. | www.sii.pl [2] Mobile : +48 695 196 420 Links: ------ [1] http://sii.pl/kluczowe-liczby-i-fakty/ [2] http://www.sii.pl/