#and somehow I think that the people politically organizing and working for change removing themselves from a core political process

[macro-microcosm]

Online discourser voice: Remember kids, the only way to be a True Leftist is to disenfranchise yourself

[whitehotharlots]

A movement that cannot be criticized cannot achieve positive goals

The hardest part of talking about malignant trends on the broad left is that, well, you’re not allowed to talk about them. It’s no exaggeration to say that criticism has become fully conflated with violence. If you attempt to engage critically with a left-liberal writer--regardless of how thorough and respectful you may be, and regardless of how powerful, public, or insulated the subject of the criticism--you will be accused of dismissing and erasing the writer, of inciting violence against the writer, and of committing some form of genocide against whichever identity groups the writer belongs to.

Conversely, if you don’t provide specifics, you’ll be accused of making stuff up. The same people who claim it’s an act of aggression to ask for proof when they make claims of victimization turn into immense pedants the moment they encounter a heterodox opinion. 

Unsurprisingly, a discourse milieu in which critical analysis is forbidden is a prime breeding ground for unsustainable (and even horrific) behavioral standards. Never mind improving the world that exists outside their sphere of influence... these people are perpetually on the brink of destroying their allies, their institutions, and themselves.

Today I dug into an especially profane case that highlights both of these points. It’s a matter of public record, so I hopefully won’t get accused of “doxing” anyone for discussing it. It’s also the sort of story where if someone cares about it, they’ll have an opinion of it within a second or two of reading a headline describing what happened. This means it’ll only be of interest to the sort of cranks who read this blog. My goal here isn’t to express outrage or advocate for one side or other--although it is outrageous, and you won’t have to try too hard to see which side I favor. Instead, I’m going to try to move beyond that, to use this instance as a broader cautionary tale in regards to the more horrific tendencies of the identitarian left, and to begin formulating some means of resistance. 

In other words, this might get boring. Even more so than usual. 

The story involves a court case, documented here, in which a young man named Kieran Bhattacharya is suing the University of Virginia Medical School. Mr. Bhattacharya (a white supremacist name if I’ve ever heard one) was subjected to formal censure, repeated psychological evaluations, suspension, and eventual expulsion. This all happened because he raised some concerns after a White Fragility-inspired panel on microaggressions.

This is one of those cases where both sides are going to assume there’s a lot more going on beneath the surface and, like I said, are going to be disinclined toward actually reading the available evidence. Thankfully, the court brief is fairly exhaustive and--importantly--the account provided in the brief has received the approval of both plaintiff and defendant. To stress, everyone involved in this case agrees, legally, that the account provided herein is an accurate picture of what happened. Additionally, we also have audio of the initial microaggression seminar (Mr. Bhattacharya’s comments start at around the 28:30 mark), as well as of the pursuant committee meeting that ended in his expulsion. 

Here is the initial exchange, as documented by the brief:

Bhattacharya: Hello. Thank you for your presentation. I had a few questions just to clarify your definition of microaggressions. Is it a requirement, to be a victim of microaggression, that you are a member of a marginalized group? 

Adams: Very good question. And no. And no— 

Bhattacharya: But in the definition, it just said you have to be a member of a marginalized group—in the definition you just provided in the last slide. So that’s contradictory. 

Adams: What I had there is kind of the generalized definition. In fact, I extend it beyond that. As you see, I extend it to any marginalized group, and sometimes it’s not a marginalized group. There are examples that you would think maybe not fit, such as body size, height, [or] weight. And if that is how you would like to see me expand it, yes, indeed, that’s how I do. 

Bhattacharya: Yeah, follow-up question. Exactly how do you define marginalized and who is a marginalized group? Where does that go? I mean, it seems extremely nonspecific.

 Adams: And—that’s intentional. That’s intentional to make it more nonspecific . . . . 

After the initial exchange, Bhattacharya challenged Adams’s definition of microaggression. He argued against the notion that “the person who is receiving the microaggressions somehow knows the intention of the person who made it,” and he expressed concern that “a microaggression is entirely dependent on how the person who’s receiving it is reacting.” Id. He continued his critique of Adams’s work, saying, “The evidence that you provided���and you said you’ve studied this for years—which is just one anecdotal case—I mean do you have, did you study anything else about microaggressions that you know in the last few years?” Id. After Adams responded to Bhattacharya’s third question, he asked an additional series of questions: “So, again, what is the basis for which you’re going to tell someone that they’ve committed a microaggression? . . . Where are you getting this basis from? How are you studying this, and collecting evidence on this, and making presentations on it?”

You can listen to the audio if you like. There’s nothing there, in my opinion, that is not captured accurately in the written description. Bhattacharya does not yell or raise his voice. He sounds skeptical, but in no way violent or threatening. Nor does Adams, the presenter, signal that she is experiencing anything that approaches fear or trauma. 

Immediately after the event, a professor who helped organize the discussion filed a “Professionalism Concern Card”--a cute academic euphemism for a disciplinary write up--against Bhattacharya, alleging he had displayed a troubling lack of respect for differences (the irony here probably does not need to be explicated).

Soon after that--literally still the same day of the panel--Bhattacharya received an email from faculty asking him to “share his thoughts” so as to help him “understand and be able to cope with unintended consequences of conversations.” The tone of the email is polite and professional, but the text hints toward an attempt at entrapment. You’ll see this a lot in woke spaces--invitations to come to an understanding with one another that are, in actuality, attempts to get a person to say something cancellable.

Bhattacharya took the bait, and, well… 

During Bhattacharya and Peterson’s one-hour meeting, Peterson “barely mentioned” Bhattacharya’s questions and comments at the panel discussion. Dkt. 33 ¶ 73. Instead, Peterson attempted to determine Bhattacharya’s “views on various social and political issues—including sexual assault, affirmative action, and the election of President Trump.” 

At this point, the kid was fucked. He soon after had an uneventful-seeming meeting with a dean. Two weeks after that, a separate panel found him guilty of “patterns of unprofessional behavior and egregious violations of professionalism” and strongly encouraged him to seek psychological counseling. 

Pre-Trump, Bhattacharya still probably would have been fine if he had just kept his head down, gone to a couple therapy sessions, and maybe issued an empty apology. Since 2016, however, the rules have changed. An accusation is now absolute proof of guilt and no amount of ablution can save someone in a vulnerable position. 

Eleven days after receiving the ostensible suggestion that he receive counseling, Bhattacharya was informed that he would not be permitted to return to classes until he had been evaluated. A day after that--before even having the opportunity to seek the mandated counseling--he was given a mere 3 hours notice before having to attend another disciplinary committee meeting. 

This meeting found that Bhattacharya’s continuing behaviors were proof that he posed an imminent danger to the campus community, although the committee did not bother to explain what those behaviors entailed. His behavior was simply noted as “unusual” and this was proof that “Any patient that walked into the room with [Bhattacharya] would be scared.” The following day, Bhattacharya was forcibly removed from campus and told he could not return until he had been screened. He was, subsequently, not allowed to receive sanctioned screening, because of his status of having been removed from campus after being deemed a security risk.

Again, none of what I have described is an exaggeration. None of these details are even being contested. 

Now for my own conjecture: the problem isn’t that anyone genuinely believes Bhattacharya poses a threat to anyone’s safety. The problem is that he attempted to question the ideological firmaments of contemporary anti-racist training. These firmaments are protected with aggressive viciousness precisely because they cannot withstand scrutiny. Had Bhattacharya merely scoffed at them, or even if he had been outright condescending and dismissive, he probably would not have received such a severe punishment. The problem was that he was right, and his accusers knew it.

Understanding speech in the manner prescribed by the peddlers of microaggression theory cannot possibly be codified in a way that won't result in arbitrary punishment. Bhattacharya’s experience demonstrates that with horrific irony. 

The assertion here is that the intention of a speech act should have no bearing on how we adjudicate the morality of that speech act--such a point was made repeatedly in the initial discussion, and stressed once again after Bhattacharya’s concerns have been raised. This standard contradicts how we've processed the morality of speech for centuries, but that's what people are very explicitly demanding.

How is this workable, when literally any statement could, conceivably, be considered offensive by at least one individual? This, I feel, was the point Bhattacharya reaching toward. If you were to say, I dunno, "I love trees" to a group of 1000 people, 999 of them could regard that statement as benign. But what if one person takes offense to it? What if they work in the lumber industry, or they were molested by guy in a Smokey the Bear costume? What if that person then files a report accusing the tree lover of offensive speech? Will the speaker be disciplined? Or will the powers that be take intention and effect into account?

Of course, we're not going to criminalize all speech in this way. Like all extreme and broad-reaching disciplinary standards, this one will only be selectively evoked in order to punish people with heterodox opinions and/or those whose presence threatens the status quo. Someone who says something much more incendiary, like "all men are rapists" or "white people shouldn't get social security" would not receive a reprimand regardless of how much offense their statements caused, because they're saying something that's acceptable in our current milieu. And right now, the least acceptable speech is that which shines a light on the manifest flaws and hypocrisies of corporate anti racism. 

Back to my hypothetical example, if the tree-loving speaker was on good terms with everyone, the complaint would most likely be ignored. But if he had said or done other things that for whatever reason displeased the people in charge, the specious accusation could still ruin him. What's worse, the person who filed the allegation of offense might not have even actually taken offense at the statement--they were just looking for a way to get rid of him.

Bhattacharya was attempting to voice legitimate criticisms about a political movement whose suggestions are functionally unworkable and that, even if it were implemented fully and uncritically, does not contain even a hypothetical explanation in regards to how its goals would result in improved racial equality/equity. Because of that, he was cynically labeled dangerous and expelled from a public university. 

You'd think a group that obsesses over power differentials and their own marginalization would have some grasp of this. Regardless of which side you fall into with this particular culture war, it should fucking terrify you that a movement that’s been tasked with addressing pressing social problems is designed in such a way that any substantial criticism is met with aggressive punishment. 

There’s no way you can win if this is you is how conduct yourself. This is why we’re losing. This is why even if you get all the censorship and deplatforming you can ever dream of, even if every major bank and multinational corporatation professes fealty to your movement, you will still lose. Because there’s no way you can win. 

[arosnowflake]

Cracks in Concrete

Fandom: Mob Psycho 100

Wordcount: 4285

Warnings: a panic attack, general mental health issues, canon-typical use of cults (albeit it with minor implications that the Psycho Helmet Cult had more negative influences on its users than portrayed in canon). 

Summary: Character study/character development fic of Mezato, and how she grows up after the Divine Tree Arc. 

Notes: Mezato has ADHD in this fic, because I’m ADHD and I love her. 

///

Mezato woke up in the middle of the street, and around her, a crowd of people did the same. They blinked, stumbled, clutched their head as they looked around in confusion, a cacophony of voices asking each other what had happened, how they’d gotten here. Among the crowd there were members of the Psycho Helmet C ult she recognized, but also classmates, acquaintances, and many, many strangers; it was as if the entire town had simultaneously flowed into the streets for some kind of parade, only to then forget who’d organized the event in the first place.

The ground shook, someone screamed, and then, the Divine Tree was floating. It raised itself up from the earth and towards the sky, following a flock of birds towards the horizon. Still in a daze, Mezato raised her camera to snap a picture, only to find her fingers wouldn’t move.

“It must be Lord Psycho Helmet,” Eiji muttered next to her, wonder in his eyes as he looked up towards the flying broccoli.

Mezato didn’t answer. She simply watched as the Tree disappeared from view.

///

The only thing the News Club would talk about was the Divine Tree, and the mass amnesia the city had experienced. As a matter of fact, it was the only thing any kind of news outlet would talk about, even as the citizens of Seasoning City slowly began to accept and forget it, as they always did when something strange occurred.

“The disappearance of the Divine Tree was most peculiar, yes,” said the news anchor. “But for many people, the most distressing part was finding themselves on the streets with no memory of how they’d gotten there. Of the theories proposed, mass hypnosis seems to have the most credibility, but it’s likely we will never find an answer to the question of what happened that fateful day the Divine Tree uprooted itself.”

Forums on the internet were dedicated to answering that question. What was left of the Psycho Helmet Cult was convinced that it was their Lord who’d done it. They might be right. If anyone was capable of pulling off a stunt like this, it was Mob.

But whenever she thought about it, tried to figure out an answer herself, she got nauseous, and something settled heavily into her chest, an emotion she hadn’t felt in years.

Somehow, Mezato thought that all this might’ve been her fault.

///

Her phone rang and rang, but when she kept ignoring it, eventually, Eiji stopped calling. She should’ve picked up, at least done him the decency of saying she was quitting the cult, but she just couldn’t bring herself to care.

Mob was acting strange. Had been since the Divine Tree incident. Maybe it was just because Mezato watched him much more closely than she had before, but he seemed lost - or well, more lost than normal. Recently, he’d gained confidence and drive, and while he didn’t lose all of that, it seemed a bit off now. Sometimes, he’d drift off in class, or glance at nothing and seemed startled for no reason, or fall still when writing, his pen hovering over his notebook. When he did put pen on paper, he took less notes in class, and just seemed to doodle some kind of cloud over and over again.

It was always hard to tell with Mob, inexpressive as he was, but if you payed attention to the details, you could reasonable draw the conclusion that there was something wrong with him.

Mezato considered pursuing it, like she normally would when she smelled a good story, and this could be a good story indeed. Mob acting like he’d lost something right after the Divine Tree had been removed from the city, combined with the knowledge that Mob had psychic powers, made for a strong possibility that he’d been involved in whatever had happened back then. If she could get the story out of him, she could sell it to actual news outlets, rather than being content with her little part in the school paper. It would be the smart move, and could possibly be interesting, too.

Mezato let it go. They weren’t close enough for these kinds of discussions.

///

None of her pictures had any pizzaz anymore. The composition was flat, the lighting bad, and the meaning missing. She struggled to write anything for the school paper that month, staring blankly at her laptop for hours before finally giving up and slamming it shut.

It wasn’t for a lack of interesting material; there was plenty of that. Even aside from the Divine Tree incident, there was change brewing within Salt Mid; Takane Tsubomi, most popular girl in school, was moving away, bringing all her admirers crawling out of the woodwork. Even Mob was planning to confess, and although, in all honesty, Mezato didn’t expect anything to come from it, she did hope for his sake it would work out.

She could write about the actual lines that had been formed by confessors, how Tsubomi had politely yet firmly turned all of them down, speculate on whether that was because someone else held her heart or because she was moving away soon, pretend that her turning down boys whom she’d never even spoken too before was somehow unreasonable. She had plenty of material to write a salacious story.

And yet, she couldn’t. All she had to show for hours of agonizing work was a blank Word document.

She let the deadline slide by, and didn’t offer any answers when the president came knocking.

///

Without the Psycho Helmet Cult or the News Club to distract her, all Mezato had to do was her schoolwork, and she’d never been good at that. She was plenty smart, but as soon as you put a worksheet in front of her, she lost all ability to think. It didn’t matter how much distractions she removed from her workplace, she would always drift off. Even a blank wall was somehow more interesting than her homework.

So she sat in her room and stared at her books, willing herself to write a summary, to study for the upcoming exams. The words blurred together, there but meaningless; she’d reread this paragraph fifteen times, and still couldn’t tell you what it said. The silence was maddening.

Vaguely, Mezato remembered the reveal of Lord Psycho Helmet, streamed for all Psycho Helmet followers to see. The Lord’s face was blurry, a spot she couldn’t quite place, but she knew it wasn’t Mob, because she’d never gone to pick him up. She couldn’t remember why she hadn’t. She couldn’t remember why she’d dismissed him, the next morning. She couldn’t remember why she’d helped distribute Divine Tree candy. She couldn’t remember why she’d encouraged people to pray to the Divine Tree. Then, she couldn’t remember much of anything.

Had there been something in the candy? Had she somehow helped to brainwash the entire city?

She clicked her pen, again and again and again. She could say that she’d never wanted that, that she’d never wanted to hurt people, but, well, she ran a cult. But it was a nice cult, really more of a club than anything, not anything like the ones you saw on TV, the way the (LOL) Cult had worked, where people became zombies completely dependent on the cult doctrine. It was just a group of people coming together in shared admiration for the mysterious Lord Psycho Helmet.

Only he wasn’t so mysterious to her at all, was he? She knew who he’d been since the start. She could’ve told everyone, put an end to the mystery real soon. And without the mystery, the cult wouldn’t have lasted; much as she wished he was different, Mob simply didn’t have the charisma to keep a group that large together. She’d seen how he’d behaved when he ran for the student council. He wouldn’t have lasted a minute on stage.

So why had she been so insistent to get him up there, then? Why had she kept the cult alive, why had she kept pressuring Mob to lead it? What did she have to gain from it?

Her leg was bouncing, and her pen had started leaking. She laid it aside, calmed her leg, sat back and stared at her textbooks.

She slammed them shut and stood up, shoving the chair so roughly it creaked. She’d take a walk. Maybe afterwards, she would actually be able to concentrate.

///

The boredom was suffocating. The teacher droned on, his words turning to gibberish before they reached her ears, and Mezato tuned it out, staring blankly at the board to give the impression she was paying attention.

In the end, those were the questions she kept returning to, again and again. Why had she lead the Psycho Helmet cult? Why had she tried to force Mob to lead it, despite knowing he couldn’t?

Why had she wanted to start that cult in the first place? Why had she decided to investigate the (LOL) Cult? Why had she joined the News Club?

She was bored. She was restless, but bouncing her leg or drumming her fingers or clicking her pen or anything else would get her in trouble, so she sat as still as she could and tried to ignore the way her muscles itched. Her knuckles were turning white as she gripped her pen, as she gripped it tighter and tighter in an attempt to relieve the stress without actually moving, until -

Crack. It broke, sending the plastic casing flying off her desk and spilling ink all over her hand.

“Miss Mezato, care to explain what happened?”

The whole class was looking at her. Mezato groaned.

“Any day now, Miss Mezato.”

“I broke my pen, sir.”

“Are you hurt?”

“No.”

“Good. Please go clean your hand, and get cleaning supplies from the janitor to tidy your mess.”

Ink had dripped all over her desk now, too. She stood up, carefully keeping her hands in front of her to avoid more ink onto her uniform, and hurried towards the toilet.

The ink was easy enough to wash off. Mezato watched it disappear down the drain, staring at the streaming water.

She was bored. She was always bored. Things only excited her for so long before she had to move on to something new, something shinier, something that she could explore, until she’d inevitably grow bored of that as well. Was that why she hadn’t been able to write anything for the paper?

Her hand was getting cold under the stream, but she couldn’t get herself to move. Was this how it was going to be? Was she just going to flit from one transient thing to the next for her whole entire life, never satisfied, always hungry for something she’d never get to eat?

Her hands shook. She tried to turn the faucet off, but couldn’t find a grip on the handle. She leaned on the counter, trying to breathe.

She couldn’t study for her exams. She could tell herself that she’d be able to do so next year, but that’s what she’d told herself her entire life. It’s what she told her parents when they scolded her, and she knew it was a lie. She wouldn’t be able to study any better next year, and she’d never be able to get into a good high school, let alone keep up with the studies required there. She’d have to drop out, and what then? What kind of future did she have?

She pressed her hand against her mouth, leaning over until she rested against the mirror, trying to focus on the cold glass against her forehead, but her heart was going a hundred miles an hour and her hand didn’t stop her from hyperventilating and oh god, she was having a panic attack over a stupid broken pen in the filthy school bathroom, great, fantastic, fucking awesome, she thought she was done with this goddamnit, but nooo, something as small as this was enough to set her off again because lord knows her emotions couldn’t just behave normally for once in her fucking life -

A pair of hands pulled her back from the mirror, and in reflex, she punched at them, hitting air. Everything was blurry, and she was pushed towards the ground, and then her head was pushed onto her knees, and she heard someone say something, but couldn’t understand what it was. Her breathing was erratic, and she desperately tried to gasp for air at the same time she tried to remind herself not to, because no, she wasn’t out of breath, she wasn’t dying, she was just hyperventilating and she needed to take less breath not more, she knew that, she did, but it was just so hard.

From somewhere, a voice filtered in. “Breathe in, one, two, three, four, five, hold, one, two, breathe out, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, breathe in, one, two, three, four, five -”

She latched onto the rhythmic counting, matching her breaths to the rhythmic counting, and slowly, slowly, she found herself coming down. The ground beneath her was cool, her uniform somewhat itchy, and the bathroom stalls smelled as horrid as ever. With a final deep breath, she lifted her head, blinking her eyes against the harsh, flat light.

Next to her was Tsubomi, sitting cross-legged on the filthy floor, staring at her with a blank expression.

“Are you okay?” she asked, monotone.

“Yeah,” Mezato said, her voice hoarse. Tsubomi nodded.

“Good. See you.” As she went to stand up, Mezato felt her throat constrict, and without thinking, she grabbed her sleeve.

“Stay,” she said, and tried very hard not to beg.

Tsubomi studied her for a bit, then sat back down. Mezato relaxed, focused on her breathing again, tried to return to a better state of mind.

They sat there for a while, on the bathroom floor underneath the sinks. Mezato barely even noticed Tsubomi, but her presence was just enough to help keep her grounded in reality.

“You know,” she finally said, after her legs relaxed enough for her to move them. “most people stay with someone after a panic attack. To make sure that they’ll be fine.”

Tsubomi just stared at her with that blank expression. “You said you were okay, so I assumed you were.”

There was a flaw in logic there, probably, but her brain was too scattered to find it.

“How did you know what to do?” she asked instead.

Tsubomi shrugged. “Panic attacks really aren’t that special. I know at least five people who get them on the regular.”

“Yourself included?”

“I’m not telling that to the school reporter.”

Mezato managed to snort at that. “C’mon, I’m not fishing for a story here. Haven’t even written anything for them in over a month.”

Tsubomi didn’t ask why. Neither did she answer the question. After a few seconds of silence, Mezato pressed: “Seriously, I won’t tell anyone. I really owe you one after that.”

“I don’t want to tell you,” Tsubomi said bluntly. “I don’t know you, and this is personal.”

Oh. That was... fair, actually.

Mezato shrugged. “Fine. Whatever. It’s your business.”

Again, silence. It was awkward, but Mezato felt that she could be forgiven for not keeping the conversation going, under circumstances.

“Can I have my sleeve back?” Tsubomi asked.

Mezato blinked. Finally, she noticed that she still held Tsubomi’s uniform in a vine-like grip.

She let go, and Tsubomi pulled her arm back. “Are you okay?” she asked.

Mezato’s first instinct was to say yes, but remembering Tsubomi’s earlier reaction, she shook her head.

Tsubomi shifted. “Do you want me to stay for a bit?”

“Yeah.” Mezato drummed her fingers against her leg. “Hey, why did you help me?”

Tsubomi pursed her lips and squinted her eyes, thinking. “It just seemed needlessly mean to leave you there when I could help,” she finally declared.

“You don’t seem like the type of person who cares for people you don’t really know,” Mezato replied, tapping her feet.

Tsubomi raised an eyebrow. “What gave you that idea?”

“You turned down an entire line of suitors one by one, ruthlessly.”

Tsubomi rolled her eyes, quite possibly the loudest expression of emotion she’d made thusfar. “I didn’t even know any of them. I could’ve ignored them entirely, or turned them all down at once. Instead, I took the time to turn them down individually, because that was the polite thing to do.” She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Just because I don’t let people walk over me doesn’t mean I’m cruel.”

Mezato stared at her for a while, and she stared back, not even blinking.

“How do you do it?” Mezato finally asked.

“Do what?”

“Just...” Mezato gestured to all of her. “You really seem to know what you want.”

“I mean, it’s not hard to figure out you don’t want to date someone you’ve never spoken to,” she said, deadpan.

“Well yeah, but like -” Mezato made a noise of frustration. “I can’t place it. It’s just. I have this feeling that you aren’t easily persuaded to do something you don’t want to do.”

“Well, neither are you,” Tsubomi retorted. “You’re well known for being stubborn, Mezato.”

“I know, but...” she trailed off, closing her eyes. Her feet tapped against the bathroom floor, and she counted to its rhythm. It was strange how infiltrating a cult was easier than speaking honestly.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” she admitted, refusing to look at Tsubomi. “I’m probably not gonna get through high school, I don’t know what I want to be when I grow up - I have nothing to do, really. I distract myself with an endless string of hobbies that never go anywhere, and still, I’m always bored, and that’s the only thing I can see for myself in the future. Just an endless sea of boredom.”

Tsubomi blinked, then raised an eyebrow. “Are you asking me to give your life meaning in a public bathroom?”

Mezato burst out laughing. She doubled over, clutching her stomach, and laughed harder than she had in months, perhaps even years. When she finally finished, looking up through her tears at Tsubomi, she saw that even she had cracked a smile.

“Alright, fair enough.” She rubbed her eyes. “Guess I gotta figure that out myself.”

“I can’t do that for you,” Tsubomi confirmed. “I barely even know you.”

“You’re right, you’re right.” Mezato waved a hand. “Sorry to dump that on you.”

“It’s okay.” Tsubomi seemed to hesitate for a bit, then added: “Maybe buy a lollipop on your way back home.”

Mezato blinked. “What?”

“They always help me calm down.”

Tsubomi stood up and rubbed the wrinkles out of her skirt. “Are you okay?” she asked, holding out a hand.

Mezato grabbed it, and let Tsubomi help her up. “Yeah,” she answered, and she meant it, this time.

///

Why had she joined the News Club?

Why had she started the Psycho Helmet Cult?

Why had she tried to persuade Mob to lead it?

Because she was bored. Because she needed a goal. Because she needed something to give her life meaning.

Eiji picked up after only one ring. “Mezato!” he cried out, his voice tinny through the phone. “I’m so glad to hear from you!”

“I’m sorry I didn’t call,” she said, and she didn’t quite mean it, but she was getting there, maybe. “I’ve been going through a rough time lately, and I don’t think I can keep up with you guys. Sorry, I’m going to have to rescind my leadership position.”

Eiji sighed. “That’s a shame, but we did expect something like that. Losing the Divine Tree was hard on us all, and after the earthquake in January, I certainly don’t blame you.”

“Yeah.” She hesitated for a second, tempted to chicken out, but she steeled herself and asked: “Eiji, why do you follow our religion?”

When the answer came, it sounded baffled. “Because Lord Psycho Helmet gives my life meaning, of course. Because he does so for all of us.”

She breathed in. Breathed out. “A word of friendly advice. Find something else to chase.”

“What do you mean?”

She thought. And she thought. “Nevermind,” she finally said.

They hung up, and Mezato stared at the ceiling.

///

Mob had been doing better since the disaster in January. He was much more alert, didn’t look like he lost something, and in many ways, he seemed more relaxed than he’d ever been before. It was a sag of his shoulders, an easier way of talking; small things, like always with Mob, but they made a world of difference.

“Hey, can we talk for a second?”

He turned, waving at his brother to go on, and said “Sure, what is it? Does the Pyscho Helmet Cult want something?”

“Ah, no.” She tapped her fingers on her leg. “I dropped them, honestly.”

Mob raised his eyebrow, only a little bit; she was paying attention and even she barely noticed. “Really? I didn’t think you ever would, to be honest.”

“Well, I guess you could say I got some perspective, recently.”

There fell a silence. Mob stared at her, didn’t make a move to continue the conversation, and for the first time, she understood what he might have seen in Tsubomi. They were unnervingly similar, in a way.

“Listen.” She clenched her fist, then relaxed. “I need to ask you a question, okay?”

Mob cocked his head. “What is it?”

And before she could lose the nerve, she rushed out: “That whole mess with the Divine Tree. Was that my fault?”

Mob blinked. “What makes you think that?”

“It’s pretty clear that the problems started thanks to the Psycho Helmet Cult, which I was directly responsible for.” Her voice sounded steely, confident. Good. “Or at the very least, it wouldn’t have spread as quick as it did without them - without us, me. I don’t remember a whole lot from back then, but I think that, whatever it was, I was at least partly responsible for it. Is that right?”

Mob was silent for a while. “You’re sort of right,” he finally admitted, slow and deliberate. “Without the Psycho Helmet Cult, whatever it was probably wouldn’t have spread as quickly as it did. My memories were also wiped, but I talked with someone whose weren’t, and he confirmed that the Psycho Helmet Cult was instrumental to city’s brainwashing.”

Mezato clenched her fists.

“But,” Mob added. “he could’ve done it without you. You just happened to be there, and be convenient. So I wouldn’t say it’s your fault.”

Mezato let out a deep breath. “I - thanks. That’s nice to hear.”

She stood up, squared her shoulders. “I have one more thing to say.”

“What is it?”

She took a deep breath, and made sure to look him straight in the eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said.

Mob blinked. “What for?”

“For using you.” She looked him in the eyes. “I wanted you to lead the Psycho Helmet Cult not because I thought you genuinely could, but because it would be entertaining to see you try, and because it was entertaining to try and convince you. I’ve grown to genuinely like you, and I started convincing myself I really just wanted to give you a chance, but I was lying to both myself and you. I’m sorry for that.”

“Oh.” Mob shifted, breaking the eye contact. “That’s okay. I’m glad you admitted it, though.”

Mezato blinked. “That’s it?”

Mob stared. “Shouldn’t it be?”

“It’s just...” She started playing with the hem of her shirt. “I treated you pretty badly, because I didn’t really care about you, at first. I don’t care about a lot of people, honestly. I try to, but it’s hard, and I forget to try pretty often. So this just feels a bit too easy, I guess? Shouldn’t you be angrier?”

Mob shrugged. “You apologized, you seem like you mean it, and like you’re trying to do better. It’s in the past, and you won’t do it again, so you’re okay now.”

Mezato gaped. “I just admitted to not really caring about other people, and you think I can do better?”

“Well, at least you’re self aware about it. That’s a good start.” He frowned. “Wasn’t that something you said about Tsubomi, though? That it seemed like she didn’t care about people?”

“Yeah.” Mezato scratched her neck. “I might’ve been projecting a little.”

“That makes sense,” Mob said, shifting his bag. “Was that all?”

For a moment, Mezato floundered, then confirmed: “That was all.”

“Okay. See you later, Mezato.” Mob turned to walk away, but stopped short.

“Actually,” he began, reaching into his bag. “I have a friend that you might like.”

Mezato raised an eyebrow. “A friend?”

“Yes.” He pulled out his phone. “His name’s Hanazawa Teruki, and he goes to Black Vinegar. I think you two might get along.”

He looked up at her. “You want his number?”

She stared at him for a second, then cracked a smile. “Sure,” she said. “Why not.”

///

She made the next deadline for the News Club, turning in an all-out expose on the delinquent war between Salt Mid and Black Vinegar. The president was lyrical and the paper was well-read; the article was a slam success.

She’d written nearly all of it in one go, and when she’d been done, she’d sat back, smiling.

She might not know what she wanted to do in the future, but she knew what she wanted to do right now, and maybe that was okay. She was still young. She had time to grow.

For now, she had a fantastic article, a new friend, a bag of lollipops in her drawer, and she’d be fine.

[ultraviolet-techno-ecology]

What do you think of genuine primitivism? As in the one described in John Moore's Primitivist Primer? Feminist, anti-colonial, and otherwise pro-marginalized, just with the belief that civilization and technology should be radically critiqued.

TL;DR - It’s a whole lot of nothing. John Moore spends most of the time presenting information from Zerzan - and others to a lesser extent. Almost all serious questions are resolved with some form of “There is no blueprint!” which isn’t a good enough answer when commentary regarding other topics seems to be lacking in long term considerations. For a more detailed analysis… (Avoiding most of the rehash of Zerzan and others and sticking mostly to Moore’s writing.) —–

“Strictly speaking, there is no such thing as anarcho-primitivism or anarcho-primitivists” […] “Individuals associated with this current do not wish to be adherents of an ideology, merely people who seek to become free individuals in free communities in harmony with one another and with the biosphere, and may therefore refuse to be limited by the term ‘anarcho-primitivist’ or any other ideological tagging.“

The article begins with an excellent example of non-thought. It suggests first and foremost that having a detailed coherent position or ideology automatically some conformist style nonindividual. 

———-

“The aim is to develop a synthesis of primal and contemporary anarchy, a synthesis of the ecologically-focussed, non-statist, anti-authoritarian aspects of primitive lifeways with the most advanced forms of anarchist analysis of power relations. The aim is not to replicate or return to the primitive, merely to see the primitive as a source of inspiration, as exemplifying forms of anarchy.”

We continue by defining the aims of Primitivism in vague academic terms of ideology - and second by what it is apparently not. You are left to fill in your own definitions of things like “Non-Statist” and “Primitive Lifeways” which means this entire sentiment can be read in various radically opposing ways. At no point is anything of material consequence stated.Fascists could easily read the above paragraph as an invitation for a new form of “Blood and Soil” since they typically mentally juxtapose themselves as the oppressed freedom fighter anyway.

—————-

“From the perspective of anarcho-primitivism, all other forms of radicalism appear as reformist, whether or not they regard themselves as revolutionary. Marxism and classical anarchism, for example, want to take over civilization, rework its structures to some degree, and remove its worst abuses and oppressions. However, 99% of life in civilization remains unchanged in their future scenarios, precisely because the aspects of civilization they question are minimal.“

If you see 99% of life as remaining the same after the removal of Capitalism, what exactly are you defining as 99% of life? Anticapitalist revolution implies work, housing, food & diet, healthcare, technology, community, schedules, life events, goods, tools, transportation, relationships both interpersonal and environmental, etc - are all being radically transformed. WHAT IS THE REMAINING 99% OF LIFE? THE FACT THAT I SLEEP IN A BED? 

———–

“Radical ideologies on the Left seek to capture power, not abolish it. Hence, they develop various kinds of exclusive groups - cadres, political parties, consciousness-raising groups - in order to win converts and plan strategies for gaining control. Organizations, for anarcho-primitivists, are just rackets, gangs for putting a particular ideology in power. Politics, ‘the art and science of      government,’ is not part of the primitivist project; only a politics of desire, pleasure, mutuality and radical freedom.“

Short of claiming - absurdly - that Anarchist groups like Food Not Bombs are somehow conspiring to take over the government - I really see no reading of this paragraph that isn’t simply an appeal to long wolf actors and a dismissal of solidarity on a conceptual level. The “Politics of desire, pleasure” does nothing to challenge the image of primitivists as white people looking to have forest orgies.

———–

“Technology is the sum of mediations between us and the natural world and the sum of those separations mediating us from each other.“I’m no philosopher, but I think you will find that “consciousness” is being described here better than Technology.  

——–

“What about medicine?Ultimately, anarcho-primitivism is all about healing - healing the rifts that have opened up within individuals, between people, and between people and nature, the rifts that have opened up through civilization, through power, including the State, Capital, and technology. The German philosopher Nietzsche said that pain, and the way it is dealt with, should be at the heart of any free society, and in this respect, he is right. Individuals, communities and the Earth itself have      been maimed to one degree or another by the power relations characteristic of civilization. People have been psychologically maimed but also physically assaulted by illness and disease. This isn’t to suggest that anarcho-primitivism can abolish pain, illness and disease! However, research has revealed that many diseases are the results of civilized living conditions, and if these conditions were abolished, then certain types of pain, illness and disease could disappear.“

This is exactly what people are referring to when we describe Primitivism as a lethal ideology. My genetic eye disorder isn’t going to be cured by societal transformations - it’s just going to leave me suffering the consequences of blindness. The diseases nearly eliminated by vaccines are not going to just stay away because we changed society. This entire paragraph is profoundly suggestive of able-bodied privilege beyond parody. 

———-

“Animals as well as human communities in the state of nature do not proliferate their own kind to the point of pushing all others off the field.’ So there’s really no reason to suppose that human population shouldn’t stabilize once Leviathanic social relations are abolished and communitarian harmony is restored.”

This is factually wrong. Prey animals without adequate predator populations DO reproduce to destructive degrees. Humans are able to populate the way they do because we have no regular threat of predation - and because we have access to modern medicine. While I could point to things like the Wisconsin Whitetail population as evidence of destructive breeding - it would be easy to attribute that to other phenomena. Instead might I point toward the reintroduction of wolves to Yellowstone (Link) which resulted in increased biodiversity since local prey population was no longer dangerously inflated. This is once again inadvertently suggesting that Humans need to die in large numbers to create a better society. 

[lemonsandstrawberries]

The Pitted Olive, part 5

fandom: Stony (Steve x Tony)

universe: Draq Queen!AU (Tony Stark as a drag queen)

summary: Steve and Tony continue to happily date and Steve has a sweet surprise for Tony, while Tony asks him a big question. Also, Steve meets another drag queen from The Pitted Olive.

length: 3 683 words

disclaimer: this fic is written strictly for entertainment. I am not a specialist on drag and my whole knowledge comes from mainstream media. if there is something you will find incorrect or offensive in any way, there is always an option to contact me and politely voice your thoughts instead of flaming. thanks!

a/n: I am trying to contradict the sad vibe I am getting from tumblr lately and forcing myself to post. hopefully, this will work for you and me!

——————–

The Pitted Olive, part 5

(part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6)

Ding!

"Hi! Welcome to Mama's Little Bakery - Hi Steve!"

"Hi, Kamala," Steve greeted the dark haired girl behind the counter. He took a deep breath, smelling all the frosting and sweet toppings and some earthy notes of a good, real bread. It was a special smell.

"What brings you here? Want to try our new creation?" Kamala motioned to the small plate next to her, where some small cookie pieces were waiting.

"Always," Steve grinned and took a piece, popping it into his mouth. Crumbly, buttery, and sweet. With some floral note to it.

"Rose water and white chocolate cookies," Kamala smiled proudly. Although the bakery specialized in homemade, traditional pastries, the newly hired young personnel was welcomed to experiment. "Teddy came up with that."

"It's great," Steve said enthusiastically, although he felt that nothing could top good ol' double chocolate chip cookies. "Is Mama here?"

"He is in the back with Billy. Heard you placed a special order?"

"Kamala!" a dark-haired teenager with a hair neat stretched over his head popped out from the backspace. "Did you finish putting together the boxes?"

"Not yet!"

"Can you hurry up, please?! The guys from the Xavier's School will be here any minute to pick up the cupcakes for their students!"

"Hi, Billy," Steve smiled at the boy.

"Oh, hi, Steve, sorry didn't see you there," Billy said, walking to Kamala and carrying a tray of cupcakes with yellow frosting and a black x on top. An odd choice, but it was the school's logo. "And where is Teddy?! I need more sugar pearls!"

"Calm down, we have plenty of time!" Kamala said, taking the tray and putting it aside. "If you want to get it done, help me too," she said, pushing a cupcake holder box in his hands to fold.

"I still have like two dozens of cupcakes to frost--- why there is a cupcake missing from the display?"

"Uh oh… Well, I didn't have time to eat breakfast so…"

"How did you even reach it?! It is like your arms can stretch, I swear---"

"I am going to the back," Steve pointed at the door leading to the staff only area, letting the kids resolve this one between themselves. He heard the banter and smiled, thinking that since Sam made a decision to take interns from the baking school, the bakery became much more lively. Entering the kitchen was a whole new experience. The shop part looked sweet and inviting, set in light pinks and cream colors, just as Sam's mom designed. The kitchen was white, with a lot of silver utensils, and the most colorful sprinkles and icing stashed neatly on the shelves. It was perfectly organized.

"Billy, when you will be done with the cupcakes, please check on the apple pies in the oven," Sam said, hearing someone entering the kitchen. He was hunched over a marble table and rolling some dough between his palms, sprinkling it with flour, whenever the dough felt too sticky.

"Hi, Mama!"

Sam turned around, looking in surprise at Steve. "Hairnet!" he scolded, pointing to the shelve with a box of disposable hair nets.

"Dude, seriously?" Steve asked, blankly. Sam was also wearing a hairnet, although he kept his hair in a buzz cut.

"Hairnet or get out from my kitchen!" Sam ordered, slamming the pile of dough against the table to get more air bubbles inside.

"Okay, okay," Steve soothed, stretching the net over his head. "What are you doing?"

"Dough for cinabbons. You know that dough has to be kneaded at least one hundred times?"

"I honestly didn't know that. Why don't you use a stand mixer?"

"Nah, man. It is all about the love you put into your baking," Sam replied, smiling gently and Steve was sure that that smile wasn't for him, but for the dough. "Mixers don't give love."

One day Steve would love to have a job he could be so passionate about as Sam was about his bakery. Working in an art shop had its pluses, like steady hours, steady pay, a lot of free time. Downsides were working with not always sure what they searched for customers and countless hours of rearranging misplaced art supplies. What Steve really wanted was to teach art. Somehow, he never had the courage to take that step. Maybe one day.

"You came here for your order?" Sam asked, straightening up and wiping hands in his apron. The dough was resting under a clean cloth, needing time to rise. "I had to test out a few recipes before I came up with a one I was pleased with," he handed Steve a pink box with a bow and the bakery's logo stamped in one corner.

"Thanks," Steve smiled, taking the package.

"Hope you two will enjoy it," Sam said hurriedly, jumping to the huge deck oven and checking on the apple pies. The hot scent of baking apples and cinnamon drifted to Steve and it was heavenly. "If you want something to go, just tell Kamala, she will pack it for you!"

"Maybe later," Steve started walking out of the kitchen. Sam always offered him free pastries and Steve was grateful, but sometimes it felt as too much. Although, he wouldn't say no to some cheesecake. "Hey, I will see you this evening, right?"

"Yeah. Can you call Billy here on your way out?"

"Sure. Thanks again, Sam!"

Steve left the bakery, holding the pink package and smiling lightly. He was hoping that Tony would love his surprise.

***

"Oh, oh yeah, give it to me, come on - AAAAH!"

Steve was blushing. Blushing so much his face would melt off. Why Tony had to be so loud.

"Mmmmm! That felt good! Come on, one more time, faster, GAAAAAH!"

God. People were staring at him. Just move along, nothing was happening here. Steve was just sitting outside Tony's changing room and curling in embarrassment. Perfectly normal.

"Ooooh, slap it on me! HAAAAAH!"

Maybe he should just wait outside. Seemed like a good idea.

"Ah ah ah… Woah, that was intense. Thanks."

Steve uncurled, his face less heated. Okay, it was coming to an end. Some more talking, and soon a red-haired woman in a white cosmetician coat walked out of the room. She spotted Steve and smiled, in a bit terrifying way. "She is all yours now."

"Thanks," Steve replied meekly.

"Aaah, it is good to feel smooth again!" Red walked out, stretching in her small, gold robe. "See you next month, Nat."

Natasha nodded, grabbing trotting by Arrow, male name Clint, as Steve learned with time, by the arm and twirled with her. "Ah ah ah! Where do you think you are going? You and your hairy pits are next."

"Awww, but I told it is an artistic choice!" Arrow argued in a whiny voice, walking with Natasha to her changing room.

"Don't forget about her back!" Red Velvet called, grinning broadly. Arrow flipped her sister off and it was met only with a giggle.

"Hey, honey," Red Velvet said, turning her eyes to Steve. "Want to feel how smooth I am," she purred, taking his hand and slipping it under the robe, his palm resting over smooth, heated skin near the inner thigh area.

Steve's face exploded with a new shade of embarrassment. He pushed himself and Red inside the room hurriedly and slammed the door behind. Seemed that she just loved making him flustered. "Maybe not now," Steve muttered, feeling that everyone in the club was already observing him.

"Good," Red replied with a smile, moving away, "because I am a little sore. It is not easy getting a full body wax."

"F-full body?" Steve repeated, his mouth falling open a little.

"Full body," Red repeated with a wide smile. This time, Steve felt that his blush went all the way down to his toes. Full body was a whole lot of smooth skin.

"So, what brings you here?" Red Velvet asked, curling in the corner of the couch and patting the cushions next to her, motioning for Steve to sit down. "Lately you only show up minutes before my show."

Oh right.

"I brought you something," Steve said, sitting next to her and handing her a box from the bakery.

Red Velvet frowned, and it was her gentle frown, the one that was practiced to not crease her face too much. "You know that I don't eat before performing."

"Just one bite," Steve asked. He hated that she was starving herself just to squeeze her waist more in the cincher.

"Well… Let's see first what you got me," she said, removing the lid. "Huh."

"They are red velvet cupcakes," Steve said happily. Red velvet for Red Velvet.

"It is from your friend, right?" Red Velvet asked and she took out one cupcake, turning it in her hand and looking at it from every angle. It smelled like cocoa and the white frosting was swirled out perfectly. "It is cute, but I am not actually a fan of red velvet cake," she smiled gently.

"No?" Steve blinked, feeling a bit baffled. "Then why your name is Red Velvet?"

"You think I named myself after a cake?" Red laughed, and it sounded more like Tony than Red, to be honest. "It is because the first dress I wore as a drag queen was made of red velvet. It is not a very friendly material, to be honest, it is a bit heavier than others and you get hot quickly, but it is really nice to the touch. Nowadays my dresses are mostly made of satin. I would really like to try some dresses made of charmeuse, but I don't have the figure to pull it off. You have no idea what I am talking about, do you?" Red laughed, and Steve closed his opened mouth.

"I only know that you have a great figure," Steve said in his defense and Red smiled.

"I am gonna give it a taste," she said, delicately peeling the wrapper off, "you know, red velvet is actually very difficult to make… Too much food dye, and it will be bitter. Too little and it will become dry. It is a tricky cake," she said, biting in. Even though she didn't have any makeup on yet, Steve saw the difference. Tony took big bites, almost in a gluttonous way, always getting his mouth dirty. Here, she took a small, dainty bite, quickly wiping off the frosting off her lips.

"Hm," Red Velvet looked at Steve, and she smacked her lips together delicately. "It… Is actually really good," she said, smiling in surprise. "Really good," she said, offering the rest of the cupcake to Steve, and Steve did the playful thing and took a bite of the cupcake while she still was holding it. Moist cake, a bit salty frosting. Sam did it again. "Good, right?" Red asked, and Steve gave an approving hum. "I thought your friend is miserable in his job, but his cakes don't taste like that."

"Huh?" Steve asked, wiping his mouth when the rest of the cupcake was gone. "What do you mean by that?"

Red shrugged, standing up and going to her vanity station. "He has some… weird vibe around him. Like if being an owner of a bakery is something he doesn't want to do."

"Well, it is complicated… Sam didn't really have a choice," Steve said, scratching the back of his neck.

"Family business?"

"Yeah, family," Steve nodded, remembering the day the Wilson family moved into the neighborhood. They had renovated a shop that used to be a barber place, and Mrs. Wilson finally fulfilled her dream of owning a bakery, a ten-year-old Sam and his siblings helping in every way they could. With time, Sam's older siblings went to live on their own in different parts of the country, and Sam stayed with his mom, still helping. When she was unable to work anymore, Sam took over the business, letting his mom's dream live on through him. Like every person, Sam had doubts about what he was doing, and Steve could see it more often in his friend. Yet, today in the bakery… Sam looked truly happy.

"I understand that. Kids don't want to disappoint their parents," Red said, and Steve looked up curiously because once again, he saw in Red more Tony. He couldn't ask what was going on, because Red continued to speak and it was big news. "Maybe except my daughter. She is a pain and proud of it."

"You have a daughter?!" Steve asked, his eyes wide as saucers. Wasn't that kind of an information he should know from the start?

"Not in a sense you think," Red smiled, obviously enjoying seeing Steve's shocked face in the mirror. "I meant my drag daughter. Tootsie Roll."

"Tootsie?" Steve's mouth fell open. Tootsie was the drag queen he usually saw behind the bar, pouring drinks or sometimes on the stage, singing grungy music. With her smudged makeup and love for plaid and animal prints, she didn't resemble Red Velvet's poised style in any way.

"My little rebel," Red laughed fondly, taking a cotton pad and pouring some blue liquid on her face, starting her makeup routine. "I taught her how to walk, how to apply makeup, gave her her first cincher to hide her hog body---"

"Is her name Tootsie because of you?" Steve asked, pulling his eyebrows together.

Red had to stop and lowered the cotton pad in her hand. "You are really fixated on the topic of sweets today, aren't you?" she smiled and Steve smiled back in a lopsided way. "Actually, I came up with that, but she was the one who allowed it to stay. I called her like that once, because- ughh," Red's smile became a little wider, "okay, that was mean of me, but her first tucks looked like she stuffed a bar of tootsie roll in her pants. It was not completely hidden. So, it kinda stuck."

"That… that is mean," Steve admitted, chuckling lowly.

"Don't laugh, tucking in is a serious business," Red reprimanded, narrowing her eyes. There was some knocking on the door, and she turned away from the mirror. "Come in!"

"Hey, Red, do you have some aloe? I think Nat burned some of my skin," a male walked in, right past Steve on the couch, rubbing his armpit with a scowl.

"Tsk, where are your manners," Red Velvet reprimanded, "Steve, I present to you my daughter, Tootsie Roll. Tootsie, this is Steve."

"Sup," the guy turned to Steve briefly and Steve raised his hand in hello. Wow. It was fascinating how such a bulky guy could transform his body into a perfect hourglass figure. That had to require a lot of padding. He also had strong facial features and a stubble, but makeup had turned his face into a rounder, softer one. Dark, shoulder-length hair which was usually hidden under frilly, big wigs. "Mom, aloe, okay?! I am dying!" she urged Red Velvet in a playful whine.

"Okay, okay. Damn kids."

"I… I think I know you," Steve said, not letting his eyes off Tootsie. The guy turned to him with a slightly mocking smile.

"Well, duh. I am the one who prepares your drinks, Long Island Ice Tea guy," she replied with a smile. And Steve just stared, because without lipstick that smile seemed awfully familiar. Once on a bruised face and a busted lip. A very long time ago.

"Bucky!" Steve called suddenly.

Tootsie made a confused face. "What?"

"You are Bucky!" Steve continued to call, sure of it.

"… Wait, you said, Steve, right? As in little punk Steve?" Tootsie frowned before Steve nodded enthusiastically. After having the confirmation, both men let out a happy scream and ran into each other arms. "Steve! It had been what? Twenty years?!"

"I had no idea, you were back in town! When did you come back?"

"I don't know, a year or two ago? I didn't know you still live in New York."

"This is great," Steve said, drawing away from the hug. "You changed so much."

"Looks who's talking!" Bucky laughed, remembering the small fry he had left. "Growth spurt did wonders to you, pal."

"Um, can someone fill me up?" Red reminded them of her presence, holding in her hands a stick of aloe vera.

"Sorry!" Steve laughed, "me and Bucky were best pals in childhood until his family moved to Ohio."

"Uh, yeah, you never forget the first guy who busted your lip," Bucky said, pointing at the left corner of his mouth, where he had a thin, pale scar. "He had the boniest fists."

"Hey, you gave me a black eye, that's way worse," Steve grinned, shoving his friend in the shoulder. Bucky's and Steve's first meeting was pretty intense, but from a fight that emerged from a misunderstanding, a true friendship was born. They were best buds and inseparable until Bucky's dad got a new job and the whole family moved. Those were some lonely years for Steve until Sam's family moved into the neighborhood.

"Aw, you two are such frat boys, it is adorable," Red Velvet smiled. "But don't you have somewhere to be?" she said, looking directly at Tootsie.

"Oh, right!" she said, suddenly remembering that the time was passing and her shift would soon start. "Hey, come to my bar, we will talk some more. And we could meet one day and catch up. I have to get ready now," she reached her hand for the aloe and Red Velvet tossed it to her. "Thanks! I will see you both later!"

"Bye!" Steve smiled, watching the door close behind his friend. He couldn't stop smiling. It was great to be reunited with his childhood friend. And he couldn't wait to introduce Bucky to Sam.

Red Velvet made a sympathetic sound and walked to Steve's side, pulling his head down to press to her chest. "You are getting all emotional, baby."

Just then Steve realized that there were some tears forming in his eyes. He came to terms with not seeing Bucky ever again and meeting him after all those years was an emotional experience.

"Come on, I will clean you up," Red Velvet said, taking Steve's hand and guiding him to the vanity station. She sat Steve down and took a fresh cotton pad, pouring the same liquid she had used earlier on the pad, and gently rubbing Steve's face all over with it. Steve closed his eyes and enjoyed the touch. He was getting used to all those cosmetic stuff.

"Steve… Actually, there is something I wanted to ask you…"

"Hm?"

"How would you feel about performing in a duet with me?"

"What?" Steve asked, opening his eyes and looking at Red Velvet smiling hopefully at him. "Me and you? On the stage?"

Red Velvet nodded.

"I don't sing."

"I heard you singing under the shower."

"I meant, I don't sing in public," Steve sighed. It was way out of his comfort zone.

"We can do a lip sync. Many drag queens do it."

Drag queens?

"Are you asking because you want me to…?" Steve didn't finish. Her smile was enough to confirm that thought. In less than a second, Steve was off the chair. "Oh no, no, no," he said quickly, walking backward and seemingly terrified. "No way. I am not wearing drag."

"Why not?" Red Velvet asked, crossing her arms and looking a little defensive at Steve's quick refusal. He better chose his words carefully.

"It… It is not my thing!" Steve said clumsily, and Red narrowed her eyes.

"How can you tell if you never tried it before?"

"I just can."

Red rolled her eyes. "It is fine. If you don't want to, I won't force you," she said but sounded a bit offended. She sat on the chair and resumed her beauty routine without a word.

Steve felt guilty. Maybe he reacted too harshly. He looked at the mirror, trying to imagine himself with long hair and makeup. "Would I have to wax my body?"

"No, only shave some parts. Which, between you and me, wouldn't actually hurt to do, you know, I have enough of plucking your hair out from between my teeth each time---"

"La la la la!" Steve sang, pressing hands to his ears and closing his eyes. When he opened them after a while, Red was looking at him with a smirk. Such a big guy and yet he acted like a baby.

"I… I will think about it," Steve gave up, lowering his arms.

"That's all I am asking," Red hummed, putting a headband on her head and reaching for the white foundation.

Steve had an idea.

"You know, you had been showing me a whole lot of your world. How about I show you now some of mine?" Steve said, standing behind the chair and putting his hands on Red's shoulders.

"What do you mean?" Red asked, sounding a bit intrigued.

"Just some guys day out."

"Guys day out?" she repeated, sounding amused. "Will we go to a strip club? Poker night and cigars? That stuff?"

"Oh, you would like that, huh?" Steve teased, squeezing her shoulders playfully, meaning the cigars part. "You will see," he said mysteriously. Red took a moment to answer, before turning on the chair, facing Steve.

"Bring it on, sugar," she said enticingly. Steve smiled wider and leaned down while Red put her hands on his cheeks, bringing their lips into a kiss, probably the last one before she would take the makeup off after her show. The deal was sealed. "Now, get out, I need to get ready," she said, when the kiss ended, turning back to the mirror.

With a smile on his lips, Steve trotted to the door, but changed his mind last second and sat back on the couch, where he had a nice view of his lady getting ready. Red raised her eyebrow at that.

"Or you can stay and watch. That is an option too."

Truth to be told, it was Steve's favorite option.

————-

<– previous part ….. next part —> 

————-

tag list

(if you want to be tagged for updates in this series, send me an ask and I will add your username below)

@destiel-is-classic, @prithvik , @azurixx ,  @mangakats, @mystey-writes, @w1nters-stark, gloriousmarvellokiturtle, 

[kaylewiswrites]

Drunk WIP Week Day 3 - The Forgotten Grave Society

For those of you who haven’t heard me yelling about this for the past three days, I’m shrugging off the burden of trying to look like I know what I’m doing, and introducing my WIPs the way I do when I’m drunk and excited. 

If you like assholes, superpowers, camping, and people who almost get along, check out Day 1. 

If you like slow burn lesbian romances, political intrigue, ragtag groups who come to love each other, and deserts, try Day 2. 

If you like empowered middle school girls who start to see dead people, then congrats, you are, temporally, in the right place. 

The Forgotten Grave Society

Premise:

Today is easy. The world building is like, nothing. 

TFGS takes place in a small town in a small state, where life on the seaside brings in tourists, and also, sometimes, ghosts, apparently. (I am really liking excessive commas today, aren’t I?) The story begins in the small town on the mid-Atlantic on the first full day of summer vacation, in a graveyard that is commonly overlooked. 

Characters:

Marcy: Here’s a girl who looks average, not tall or short, tan or pale, large or small, and has not one single physical feature that makes her stand out. Bank robbery is Marcy’s backup career, since so many people overlook her. But her personality makes up for the middle ground that she exudes: All or nothing. 

She’s either trashing her room, or organizing everything by color. She cooks gourmet meals or rips cold rotisserie chicken straight from the fridge with her hand. To her coaches annoyance, she’s unable to figure out jogging. You can’t just sprint and walk, he tells her. But she doesn’t really get it. 

Marcy spends a lot of time in her own head, and it’s very, very easy for her to miss where the conversations around her are going, while she takes a side path down another road, and by the time she brings up something she founds there, everyone else is miles away. She got laughed at a lot because of this, and now rarely talks with all of her track friends. 

Talents include: running, jumping, getting A’s the three times a year she studies, cooking, and being brutally honest without meaning to be brutal. 

Ava: Ava was born the cutest child you had ever seen. Perfect brown ringlets in her hair, cherubic round face and rosy cheeks, innocent freckles underneath her big round eyes, everyone just adored Ava from the moment they saw her. And then she opened her mouth. 

Ava hates having high expectations held over her head, so she’s learned how to dash them as soon as possible. On the first day of first grade, the teacher called on Ava to introduce herself first, (since she would obviously become the teachers favorite, by the look of her). Ava stood up on her chair and gave a loud, scientific description of how babies were made. She’s been a class clown ever since. 

Known talents are: Causing a scene, making fart noises, disrupting the class. She hides the real ones: sculpting and casting, non-fiction reading, getting under Marcy’s skin (ok, maybe she doesn’t hide that last one)

Ronnie: Everyone knows Veronica is going to become some big engineer or bio-chemist or astrophysicist. Her grandmother was the first black professor at the Marine Biology Department that’s housed in their small town,  so she knows she’s got big shoes to fill. 

But the truth is, Ronnie doesn’t know what she wants to do. She hates that question. You know what she likes? Reading. She likes reading her text books and science theory books, and she likes reading cheesy romances, too. She likes conducting complicated experiments, sure, but she gets just as much pleasure out of the simple steps of her skin-care routine. She relishes in routine and anything she breaks down into small rituals she can. Making a sandwich. Programming a robot. All straightforward if do it one step at a time. 

Talents include: almost anything STEM related, designing inventions, choosing cute outfits, memorizing song lyrics, and coming up with really cool club names.

Plot

Its the first day of summer, and three very different girls from different classrooms and different friend groups somehow find themselves in the same graveyard. 

While there, they realize that a lot of these graves are like, really, really old. People aren’t putting flowers out for them like they do for the new ones. The girls decide to remember those graves for them, and thus the club is born. 

They spend the whole summer hanging out in a graveyard, cleaning stones and making bouquets of definitely-not-stolen-from-people’s-yards flowers. But when it’s time to go back to school, they feel themselves being torn apart by clubs, friends, and work. When they meet in the graveyard again to try to figure out what to do about this, they see a ghost. 

Of course ghost-seeing powers would kick in in September and not June, they think, but discovering the supernatural is real IS a good motivator for spending more time with each other. The Forgotten Grave Society decides to be both about sitting around graves eating snacks on warm summer mornings AND solving ghost problems so they can move onto the next life/afterlife/whatever you believe in (this book takes no assumptions into what happens after the ghosts leave). 

A short snippet is under the cut if you’d like to read! I’m always open to questions, comments, and critiques, so don’t be afraid to give your thoughts. I’m tagging @aomory for this post. If anyone would like to be tagged in more Forgotten Grave Society stuff, let me know! The WIP page is here. 

"Do you think they know?" Ava asks after two weeks of remembering. It's early July, hot and hazy, and humid enough at 9 in the morning that all three are planning on battling tourists to take a dip in the ocean later in the day. They remembered a woman that day, Elizabeth Holson, who died in 1931, and now they're eating lunch in front of her grave. The three girls sit with identical bags of salt and vinegar chips (on sale) and fruit cups filled with syrup. “What’s we’re doing, I mean.”

"You're asking if we believe in life after death," Ronnie responds.

"Well, I guess it's implied," Ava shrugs.

"No." Marcy shoves some chips in her mouth.

"Well, that’s decisive," Ava snorts.

"It seems like a natural, human response to death for me," Marcy states. "Think about it. You see someone die, you realize that one day you will too, and you panic. The idea of nonexistence terrifies people. So they say, no, when you die you go to somewhere better, where you're always young and your whole family is there, or all your stuff is there, or you come back to earth as something else. It's either that or admit that you and everything you know is temporary and unimportant to the world as a whole."

"That's logical, I guess," Ronnie admits. "But I like the idea that something comes next."

"Exactly my point."

"We learn about heaven in Sunday School. I'm going to go ahead and believe in that. It sounds the best."

"In science we learn that matter can't be created or destroyed, only changed. Maybe that happens when we die."

"What do you mean?" Marcy asks. "When, like, a flower dies, it's just gone right? It'll break down into nothing." She gestured at the dead flowers still sitting in front of their first grave. What remains of them are shriveled and dark.

"You're right about it breaking down, but not into nothing. It's releasing carbon dioxide into the air, bugs and larvae and fungi are eating it and turning it into energy the same way we do with food, releasing it as waste, which continues to break down further. All the different parts that made it a living flower are separating back into nature. Remember the Periodic Table? Everything in the universe is made up of those elements, and nothing can ever be added or subtracted."

"So a human body does the same thing. If it's not cremated, it breaks down into it's elements," Ava follows. "What does that have to do with an afterlife?"

"You're body breaks down, but your body isn't the thing that goes to heaven, right?"

"No, it's your soul."

"Exactly. So if nothing can be removed or added from the equation, I think we might be reincarnated."

Ava chews on the tiny plastic spoon that came with her fruit cup. "You're assuming that a soul is made of matter."

"Everything else is."

"But then wouldn't we be able to see it? Feel it?"

"The air around us has mass, but we can't see it, and can usually barely feel it."

"Wouldn't it have to be made of some of your elements?" Marcy asks. "Someone would probably have noticed it by now."

"There could be different molecular constructions that we don't have the technology to detect, a new isotope we haven't thought to look for-" She realizes she’s lost them. "Science is growing every day. Sometimes impossible things are just things that haven't been explained yet."

"You've been thinking about this for a while?" Marcy asks.

"No. Not until Ava just asked."

"This is what we get, making friends with the smart girl," Ava laughs. "So. What's your theory's answer to my question? Do you think these people know what we're doing?"

Ronnie thinks for a moment. "I doubt it. That would imply that they are somehow omniscient about anything that is connected to their past lives. Do you guys have any memories of your old graves?"

"That's a weird thought," Ava shudders. "And no."

Marcy shakes her head.

"Which means that people, or most people, disconnect from their old life when they start a new one. Or it means that my theory is wrong," she chuckles.

"So if you two don't think they know, why are you doing this?"

"I don't think it matters if they know or not," Ronnie says.

"It's like when you do someone a favor,” Marcy says before chugging the syrup from her fruit cup. “If it's important that you take credit for it, then you're not doing it for them. You're doing it for you."  

"Wow. Such kind words from the girl that split open Hannah Bover's lip over a boundary dispute."

"Her foot crossed the line, that shot shouldn't have counted-"

"So you elbowed her in the face?"

"I like doing it," Ronnie cuts in, knowing how long Ava could keep Marcy on this track. "It's peaceful, and it makes me happy. Do we need a reason?"

"Maybe we're subconsciously afraid of being forgotten, so we're trying to remember everyone else. I know I want people to say my name after I'm gone. Everyone deserves to continue existing,” Marcy says with a shrug.

"So Ronnie comes for herself. Marcy comes for them."

"Who do you come for?"

Ava wraps her arms around her legs, as if she were cold. "Neither of your theories allow for ghosts."

She avoids their eyes, and looks very un-Ava-like all of a sudden.

"Do you come for ghosts?" Ronnie asks in the most neutral voice she can manage.

"No," she says defensively. "I mean, I-I didn't. I like doing this, and- just- wouldn't it be cool? If they were watching us, from the shadows, appreciating it?"

Ava becomes more and more nervous as the silence stretches on. Finally, Marcy smiles.

"You're assuming that they're all nice."

[swordoforion]

Orion Digest №17 — On Conservatism

Democratic politics is all about debate — if there was a way to run society that everyone could agree on, we’d be entirely efficient. But the world tends to be what you make of it, and depending on who you are and where you live, you may see the world in a different light, have different fears and truths about it. Our organization has a primarily socially progressive slant, favoring changes and the rewriting of our current society — a change that will firmly cast ourselves into the great unknown of the future.

However, as our world drifts into new, uncharted territory, there remains a prevailing faction of politics, across many different branches, that seeks to remain with what is tried, what is familiar, what is known. Conservatives, as their name suggests, seek to conserve what we have, out of fear of losing it, to take a misstep and stumble into ruin or dystopia. Their opponents, progressives, seek to keep moving forward, and see the pre-established functions of society as insufficient, especially in regards to the many who tradition has disadvantaged.

I will not remain neutral and play the advocate for conservatism — while I understand their motives, I do not support the ideology, and agree with the latter opinion that what we have right now does not suffice for the needs of our people, and will instead lead to ruin if we refuse to change. However, the fact that much of the world sticks to this belief means that it is no small belief that we can ignore or cast aside. This fondness for the familiar dominates politics; we tend towards the status quo, and so it is an idea that must be addressed.

The desire to ‘conserve’ tradition largely varies depending on the context — it is more of a broader term than usual political ideologies. Different nations have their own values that they wish to uphold, and those can be more or less malignant depending on the political and cultural history of a region. However, a common summary of the main characteristics of conservatism is as follows: a focus on maintaining tradition, a hierarchal structure, and viewing the world with a sense of realism. Western conservatism notably has a focus on religion and property rights as well.

Tradition isn’t inherently negative — cultural traditions form cultural identity, social order is based on the traditions created by written law and judicial decision, and many lessons we’ve carried throughout history are beneficial. When it becomes a problem is when the desire to follow tradition holds us back, or even harms society. Following precedence holds less value when said precedence is immoral — think back to the barbaric views conquering nations had of other races and cultures as inferior. The brutal working conditions in the immediate period following the Industrial Revolution, where children worked long hours on dangerous machines. Imperialist manipulation in the name of national interest, devastating the world for the sake of one empire.

But aside from the more extreme examples of faults in our history, a rigid structure of tradition is useless in a world that constantly changes around us — in nature, in technology, in culture — with each successive generation. Conservative solutions fall apart little by little as we refuse to adapt, afraid of the failure that could arise should we abandon what we know. Take the idea of socialism — much of the industrial world has operated so long on capitalism, and has been functioning thus far, so to make the move to something drastically new, drastically different brings fear from adherents to tradition and security. However, even if it has proved successful doesn’t mean that things couldn’t be better, and that ‘success’ is fundamentally flawed in the first place. We are on a path to corporate domination and environmental destruction, and we think too much in the short term to see this investment will not pay off. We are in a train about to go off the rails, and even if we don’t know what will happen when we jump off, it’s a risk we have to take.

Hierarchy, the second characteristic of common conservatism, concerns the principle that society naturally has economic and social struggle — there will be elites, and the lower class that struggles to climb uphill and achieve wealth and power. It is commonly used in reference to economy, in that the poor have to ‘pull themselves up by their bootstraps’ to succeed, and that the elites deserve their power because they’ve earned it, and as people who have earned it, are wise enough to be entitled to whatever they choose to do with it.

My two grievances with the concept of hierarchy are that the slope one must climb gets progressively steeper over time, and that such a slope should exist in the first place. I think that life, to some extent, involves struggle — learning skills, building relationships, and doing anything worthwhile involves effort. However, in this particular instance, struggle can be the difference between life and death, and depending on the circumstances of ones birth, they may never be able to reach the lofty expectations of the wealthy. Hierarchy implies that only a select few will achieve power, which brings into question the implied fate of the many who don’t make it. Their lives are not worthless, and they do not deserve lesser treatment and status because they failed to achieve societal metrics of success (which are often designed by the ones in power to begin with — a very selective and self-containing elite class that is less accessible than it is marketed as).

Often times, the ones who achieve such great heights are ones that were set up from the beginning — the children who had access to resources that fostered their knowledge, that gave them necessary skills to make it big. There are exceptions, but given that the upper class is not by nature a very broad population, those are far and few between. If the rich and powerful are able to pass on their wealth and power, or use it to ward off less advantaged competitors, then their affluence will only grow, and in return, the slope will get steeper and steeper to climb. Centers of power that have had time to solidify themselves as mainstays of the economic and political environment will not as easily balk at up and comers as they would have in their youth.

And this is only in regards economic inequality and hierarchy. Social inequality and hierarchy is a clear issue, because the need to fight for social equality and to end discrimination is a sign that we lack necessary development as a society, and should not remain a enduring feature. To hold categories of people over others is inhumane, and the sooner the battle is won, the better. So many of those who argue that the struggle, the constant tedious climb of every generation is somehow beneficial are those who benefit, those who have reached the top of the mountain and look down on the many, who carry much heavier burdens. Those who support hierarchy imagine that every journey is just as easy as theirs, all while they kick rocks down the mountainside, worsening the toil.

The final common trait of conservatism is realism — which refers not entirely to a realistic view, but more of a pessimistic view on altruistic movements. If conservatism is a movement that resists progress into the unknown, then conservative realism is the view that the unknown is more likely than not to be harmful, that a better society is not possible because humans themselves are not capable of being better people. They fear that human nature will prevent utopian efforts from bearing fruit, and that the sacrifices and flaws of our modern systems are necessary and the best we’ll get out of our citizens. One reason why conservatism can often go hand in hand with movements for increased authority is the idea that an increase in freedom will only allow us to abuse it.

I agree with the idea that, in our current state, freedom can go hand in hand with abuse of that freedom. Say, for instance, we removed all forms of security cameras and guards from a grocery store. Is it likely that this will cause a rapid increase in shoplifting and damage? Yes. Out of the three characteristics of conservatism, this one has some merit — but is not entirely true, and worst of all, is self fulfilling. Ask not will people shoplift with freedom, but why they would shoplift? What is it about humans that we would inherently be inclined to take things if there were no consequence?

If you steal, it is because you want something without payment. You want to save money, and that’s caused by the idea that money, and therefore the goods and services it acquires, is hard to come by. You must work to gain it, and that takes time, effort, and careful attention to rules and standards. To get a loaf of bread, you must jump through so many hoops, and that is dependent entirely on if you can reach those hoops in the first place — if the job market is more selective, you may just be unlucky and find yourself unemployed. With all this difficulty placed on the simple task of getting a loaf of bread, if offered an option that isn’t under such severe scrutiny, who wouldn’t take it?

You can’t look at human nature as inherently flawed because it does not exist in a vacuum. We are all products of the world we grew up in, and that world, thanks to the principles of hierarchy and tradition that permeate our society, is a constantly reinforced labyrinth of struggle and need. We have to be cutthroat, we have to do what we can, because otherwise we’ll be at rock bottom, and it’s a circular argument to treat ‘humans being flawed’ as an excuse to run a system that will make future generations flawed. It ties back to the concept of the unknown — because we don’t know what will happen if we were ever to change, conservatism decides that the detrimental worldview we have now is the best choice solely because of the possibility that it could be the lesser of two evils.

If we were to provide a society with something new, with an economy and social structure that doesn’t rely on someone to fight for the top from birth, that doesn’t tell every bright, new soul that they were brutish at their core and that they should be lucky things aren’t worse, we don’t know what would happen, but if our current course of action is going to kill us anyway, why not take the leap? The ‘lesser of two evils’ is still going to hurt us, and sometimes, you have to take a risk and have a little optimism. We don’t know what is out in the unknown, but we do know that the known isn’t an ideal. If we’re afraid to change, and we seek only the comfort of what is known, we might as well be frozen in time, ready to fall into our own grave.

- DKTC FL

[anthonybialy]

Lunatics for Justice

People who like politics prove how awful it is for you.  Anyone demented enough to adore the procedure of grinding our existence into dust turns dreadful.  I don't want to talk to any of these zombies, as I'd prefer to be bitten than hear about how Republicans hate the poor.

Life is tough enough without pointless supervision, No, we don't have enough struggles with career, family, and news: federal compliance patrols have to ensure we've had enough taken for our benefit.  Some masochists just love the confiscation process.

Big-government fans care for nothing but tracking policies, which makes them just as interesting as you'd imagine.  They're keen on ensuring life is as miserable for everyone else, as that means equality.  Such a screwed-up take makes sense in a sick way.  Never experiencing joy is the natural byproduct of feeling an entity that brought us Obamacare and the post office is capable of organizing society.

Lost souls get so deluded that they actually start to think this garbage works.  As a result, they feel justified in demonizing anyone who notes twenty freaking trillion dollars in debt is a bit much, especially for what we get.  If the slightest reduction in autocracy is going to ruin their lives, it’s therefore their obligation to destroy the modifiers.

Take the freedom fighters terrorizing those who think consumers can regulate their own lives.  Harass children of liberty-minded chairmen at home for maximum righteousness.  Was someone you wouldn’t vote for in a train crash? That means it’s gloating time.

Bothering the kids of someone who thinks internet service providers are held accountable by consumers may not seem tough.  But that's only because a corporation brainwashed you. Instead of a multibillion-dollar conglomerate, trust a multitrillion-dollar government.  It's not like you can decline.

Definitely cut off the income of anyone who disagrees.  And try to get them fired, of course.  Starving out enemies is the one military tactic appreciated by leftists.  Can you blame them?  Some of their monstrous enemies dared not want to change marriage.  People too useless to ever attempt something productive work only to halt those who actually make things.

It's cool to be so self-righteous.  You're fighting The Man by, say, insulting the anthem.  A middle finger is a powerful symbol of courage and not at all juvenile.  Look how respectable squares resist the awesome display of power.  Stand up to fascism by demanding everyone agrees. Once dissenters are crushed, everyone will harmoniously agree.

Worrying about heroin is tough when so many are addicted to government.  Trusting the healing powers of government is the saddest sort of intervention tale. Modern junkies somehow make it worse by getting innocent people hooked.  All I wanted was to not buy crummy insurance.

Delusion features its own frame of reference.  You are not permitted to even suggest where this bloated, hideous, counterproductive, thuggish, soulless apparatus should rot for eternity.  Do you want the poor to die from lack of government?  It's logical in its most illogical way.  There will be a massive effect if you’re slightly reducing it.  merely looking at the Capitol angrily will cause the indigent to starve.  People could never feed themselves easier if Nancy Pelosi stepped out of the way, so thank San Francisco for ending starvation.

Does constantly looking for a fix seem fun?  The key is to not get hooked in the first place.  People who make their entire lives political crave politicians in their lives.  Such fiercely independent souls are as joyous as you’d expect.  Trust a government that consistently plays like the Browns to ruin fandom.

Flaccid twerps who can't imagine sustaining themselves project their inadequacies on others to make the problem seem universal.  Pretend it's protection to make it feel heroic.  They think they're protecting other humans by not letting them come in contact with bacteria.  But everyone's going to get sick as soon as the bubble deflates.

Everything's scary.  That's our world.  But think of what's next to stop worrying about what will murder you next week.  Alleged progressives are motivated by fear of the unknown, which is all statism is.  They genuinely think elected lunkheads can remove agony from human existence.

Futile planning only exacerbates problems in one of those ironies we ache too much to appreciate.  Such cruel failures lead to despising those who dare claim that we can tie our own shoes and put our own straws in juice boxes.  Some purported adults think they know how to spend what they earned, and life contains enough peril.

[arts-culture-honours-programme]

“My Red Homeland”: Jewish Contemporary Art

Anna Nesterenko 

“The people who weep before my pictures are having the same religious experience I had when I painted them”

-Mark Rothko

Shooting into the Corner, Anish Kapoor 

In many cases, especially connected to the migration and living among the foreign ethnicities, as it is happens widely with the Jews through history and nowadays, categories of ethnicity and nationality serve as principles for organization of life and social contacts. While these categories are socially constructed, they have objective consequences for access to important resources - including housing, political resources, and opportunities in the labor market (Chong, 2011).

These processes occur both outside the community and inside, when its members distinguish themselves from the rest during the interactions, even with the strangers, (Tavory, 2010). Drawing up such boundaries is based on the ascription and evaluation specific characteristics, which are considered to be significant to the group of people or in our case, the group of art (Barth, 1969). According to Bourdieu, these symbolic and cultural factors are very important in the social construction, as far as they contribute to building a hierarchy in society and allow certain agents to occupy a dominant position that can result in symbolic violence - the imposition of their cultural and symbolic practices (Bourdieu, 1984). When it comes to the art, what is considered to be national is always really a question of social boundaries, that can be described as the “conceptual distinctions made by social actors to categorize objects, people, practices and even time and space” (Lamont & Molnár, 2002). However, the attempt to make a certain homogenous image ends in failure because in reality the concept of “national” in reality is always heterogeneous.

Jerusalem, Moshe Mizrachi

In the past, in spite of the doubts about the theoretical possibility of Jewish, acuteness of this question contributed to its unexpected rise in the XX century, when Jewish identity became an increasing concern in the visual arts (Silver & Baskind, 2011). At this time avant-garde Jewish groups, each with its own concept, arose throughout Europe, finally freed from the political oppression: the artists gathered, argued on this topic, founded magazines and exhibitions devoted to Jewish art in Paris, Berlin, Warsaw.

In other words, it was the process of national self-ascription that was accompanied by an explosion of both reflection on this topic and Jewish artistic creation. The names of Marc Chagall or Chaim Soutine are widely heard, but many of the artists who participated in this process (for example, cubist Max Weber in America or avant-gardist El Lissitzky in Russia), later became classics of European modernism, even though their Jewish dimension usually remains understudied, as far as for some of them the passion for avant-garde art reflected a break with Jewish ancestry and Judaism, especially due to the ideology of atheism in the Soviet Union (Orlov, 2008).

Book cover for "Chad Gadya", El Lissitzky

Sabbath, Max Weber

In the XX century, several approaches emerged to how to express the Jewish contribution to art. One of them, which is popular now in Israel, is an exhibition based on the presence in the work of Jewish artists of the “Jewishness” – their very own experience that is the personal history experienced by the artist as a Jew. This story can either enter creativity directly - for example, as the experience of the Holocaust, - or it can also somehow indirectly affect the choice of scenes or style in some complicated way.

Svayambh, Anish Kapoor

“He was antisemitic and I'm Jewish. Who cares?”

-Anish Kapoor on Wagner

In the February of this year the winner of The Genesis Prize, the so-called "Jewish Nobel Prize", which “recognises individuals who have attained excellence and international renown in their fields and whose actions and achievements express a commitment to Jewish values, the Jewish community and the State of Israel”, was announced Anish Kapoor - a British sculptor of Indian-Jewish origin (The Guardian, 2017). Kapoor said that he would donate a million dollars of the prize to help the refugees: “As inheritors and carriers of Jewish values it is unseemly, therefore, for us to ignore the plight of people who are persecuted, who have lost everything and had to flee as refugees in mortal danger” (The Guardian, 2017).

And canceled the rewarding of the Prize because the celebration is “inappropriate” in the face of the war in Syria “on Israel’s doorstep” (The Jewish Chronicle, 2017).

Anish Kapoor was born in Bombay in 1954, in family of Hindu and  Iraqi Jewess. His mother’s relatives are Jews, immigrated to India from Iraq in the 1920s. In 1978, his first exhibition was held in London at the Hayward Gallery. Ten years later, he is already an acknowledged artist, a prizewinner at the Venice Biennale, a laureate of the Turner Prize. In September 2009 Kapoor became the first artist whose personal exhibition was organized in The Royal Academy of Arts during his lifetime (The Jewish Chronicle, 2017).

To set an example, of the modern artist suited into the third approach who express his own stories as the Jew, I would like to focus on him and explore the way he represents it in his artworks and how it is perceived by the both Jewish and non-Jewish audiences. Analyzing a number of interviews with Kapoor and the reviews, we can distinguish several main frames used in order to evaluate him and his artworks: the view from within the Jewish community on Kapoor as a Jew, in the first place, regardless of the positivity or negativity of the review; the frame that focused on the artworks themselves; and the one that explore his personal views, mostly political, including ones that are embedded into the artworks.

 The authors and magazines, mostly connected to the Jewish community, such as The Jewish Chronicle, Jewcy, Haaretz, Jewish.ru, etc. prefer to focus on the Jewish origin of the Kapoor and emphasize it: “Most notoriously, in 2015, his work at Versailles was defaced several times with anti-Semitic graffiti, and when Kapoor elected to not remove it to highlight underlying problems, a right-wing politician successfully sued to force him to cover up the vandalism” (Jewsy, 2017). 

Anish Kapoor, Dirty Corner

Kapoor himself, while not denying the importance of the Jewish question, tries to avoid discussions about the influence of his origin and especially religion on his art:

“-…And you are part Jewish. Were you formally taught these things, were they formally or casually talked about in the family conversation?

-…But my parents were fastidiously a-religious. So while some of this was around, its much more that I feel that the symbolic world, which I insist is the nub of a problem for an artist like me, is latent in most actions I would wish to make as an artist. And the work is to find that latent content” (The John Tusa Interviews, 2003).

This is especially noticeable in publications related to the outrage on the part of Jewish society, when Kapoor were developing a design of sets for the new Wagner’s Tristan and Isolde: “And many of my Jewish relatives and friends say: ‘How can you?’ Honestly, in the end, one somehow has to put that aside” (Jeffries, 2017). He responds to all these criticism: “In the end, who cares if the artist is a nice person?” (Jeffries, 2017). For him, some practical actions are obviously more important, he actively expresses his views on the pressing issues of our time, both personally and in his art.

Thus, other more independent authors focus mostly on his views in the art itself. Such as the support for refugees or protest against the policy of Tramp, when Kapoor altered one of the posters created in the 1974 for the performance “I Like America and America Likes Me” of the artist Joseph Beuys. Kapoor placed his portrait on the poster and changed the title. In his version, it sounds like: “I Like America and America Doesn’t Like Me”. He says: "I call on fellow artists and citizens to disseminate their name and image using Joseph Beuys' seminal work of art as a focus for social change. Our silence makes us complicit with the politics of exclusion. We will not be silent" (ArtDaily, 2017).

Anish Kapoor, I like America and America doesn't like Me

The exhibition “My Red Homeland” in the The Jewish Museum and Tolerance Center in Moscow also caused a debate about its insert meaning. Because of the current political situation in Russia and strong associations between the red colour and history of the country, a lot of local visitors were looking for the some kind of the hidden message. However, Kapoor states that, “the works point in certain directions, but they’re not prescriptive in their meaning. I think that means that they allow for a possible openness of interpretation and that can be responsive to the time in which the work is shown. It’s not incidental that I’m showing My Red Homeland here in Russia. In one way it’s slightly naughty, and in another way, I quite like the idea of engaging with the questions” (Small, 2017).

Anish Kapoor, My Red Homeland

Nevertheless, even if for the artist the question of his cultural affiliation is open, in his artworks Kapoor emphasizes that the most important things are to be hidden in sight and that a work of art is not a finished form, but an ongoing process.

Above all these issues, in the case of Kapoor, there is still the effect of the social boundaries can be seen, as far as for the reviewers from Jewish community, the emphases of his Jewishness is a subconscious way to claim him authentic and draw the boundary between his art and the rest. At the same time, the definition of the essence of Jewish art no longer has priority over artists and works of art, as we also can see on the example of Anish Kapoor. Art should not be reduced to the biographies of its producers or be analyzed only with respect to the intended audience or limited religious community. 

References:

Anish Kapoor recreates seminal artwork in anti-Trump protest. (2017). ArtDaily. Retrieved from: http://artdaily.com/index.asp?int_sec=11&int_new=93455#.Wed8DGi0OMo

Anish Kapoor. Artist. Jewish. Color Renegade. (2017). Jewcy. Retrieved from http://jewcy.com/jewish-arts-and-culture/jewish-artist-anish-kapoor

Barth, F. (1969). Ethnic groups and boundaries: The social organization of culture difference. London: Allen & Unwin (‘Introduction’).

Bourdieu, P. (1984) [1979]. Distinction: A Social Critique of the Judgement of Taste. Trans. Richard Nice. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.

Chong, P. (2011). Reading difference: How race and ethnicity function as tools for critical appraisal. Poetics 39 (1): 64-84.

Conversations with Artists, Selden Rodman, New York Devin-Adair. (1957). p. 93.; reprinted as 'Notes from a conversation with Selden Rodman, 1956', in Writings on Art: Mark Rothko (2006) ed. Miguel López-Remiro.

Gutmann, J. (1961). The "Second Commandment" and the Image in Judaism. Hebrew Union College Annual, 32, 161-174.

Hesli, V., Miller, A., Reisinger, W., & Morgan, K. (1994). Social Distance from Jews in Russia and Ukraine. Slavic Review, 53(3), 807-828.

Jeffries, S. (2017). Anish Kapoor on Wagner: 'He was antisemitic and I'm Jewish. Who cares?'. The Guardian. Retrieved from: https://www.theguardian.com/music/2016/jun/08/anish-kapoor-on-wagner-he-was-antisemitic-and-im-jewish-who-cares.

Lamont, Michèle & Virág Molnár. (2002). The study of boundaries in the social sciences. Annual

Orlov, A. (2008). First There Was the Word: Early Russian Texts on Modern Jewish Art. Oxford Art Journal, 31(3), 385-402.

Prize ceremony for Anish Kapoor cancelled because of Syrian suffering (2017). The Jewish Chronicle. Retrieved from: https://www.thejc.com/news/israel/prize-ceremony-for-anish-kapoor-cancelled-because-of-syrian-suffering-1.437797.

Review of Sociology 28 (1): 167-195.

Silver, L., & Baskind, S. (2011). Looking Jewish: The State of Research on Modern Jewish Art. The Jewish Quarterly Review, 101(4), 631-652.

Small, R. (2017). Anish Kapoor Colors Russia Red - Interview Magazine. Interview Magazine. Retrieved from: https://www.interviewmagazine.com/art/anish-kapoor-jewish-museum-and-tolerance-center [Accessed 18 Oct. 2017].

Tavory, I. (2009). Of yarmulkes and categories: Delegating boundaries and the phenomenology of interactional expectation. Theory and Society, 39(1), 49-68.

The Guardian. (2017). Anish Kapoor condemns 'abhorrent' refugee policies as he wins Genesis prize. Retrieved from: https://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/2017/feb/06/anish-kapoor-condemns-abhorrent-refugee-policies-as-he-wins-genesis-prize.

The John Tusa Interviews, Anish Kapoor. (2003). Retrieved from http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/p00ncbc1

[we-are-knight]

Dunno where you live, but I'm from the US, where the neo-nazis I assume you're referring to tend to spring up. Thing is, one of our most vital rights is the right to free speech, and whether we like it or not, that includes their right to spew hate. It is a very tenuous argument to assert that physical attacks are less violent than hateful words. Besides, couldn't that ideal of "striking down evil" be used by them to justify violence against their critics? Bit risky there, mate.

I keep getting asked this kind of thing, but I’ll re-iterate.

I’m from the UK, and I understand the concept of freedom of speech. Interestingly, those that espouse that right are often doing so to protect their racism, their extreme beliefs, their general disgusting ideology, but I digress.

Firstly, we should address that all “Freedom of Speech” means, is that the government cannot persecute you for your beliefs. And on a socio-political level, that’s important. The government should not have the ability to persecute you for simply believing something.But that does not mean that, socially, it makes you exempt from being (rightly) persecuted. This is what you might call ‘Social Justice’. Just because something is not illegal, does not make it right. You may see this in the work-place - sure, being a Neo-Nazi isn’t illegal, but you can be fired for voicing your racist beliefs due to work-place culture and laws meaning you cannot discriminate. People often forget that while ‘Freedom of Speech’ exists to protect you from government, it is not a get-out-of-jail card for work and society.

Second, no-one says that physical acts are less violent than words. What is worth noting is that words too often, in cases of hatred, become actions. Everyone that defends Neo-Nazi’s right to speak, often treats them as though they are innocent victims. They are not. They WANT to be violent. They WANT to exterminate others. In large groups, they can BE violent. If they have a say in society or politics, they can (and historically have) make themselves except from repercussions of this. A good example in the US is the KKK, who for so long were entrenched in the elite of the US, and could get away with killing racial minorities. This is a lot harder now, but once was a reality. They are not so divorced from the Neo-Nazi’s. Now imagine if the Civil Rights had not come about, and it was possible for a Neo-Nazi group to gain political force, and organize lynchings, without any true repercussion.This is why it’s vital to strike out against hate groups, even those that cite themselves as being non-violent. They are a small group, but this is the only thing keeping them from being a violent group, due to their extreme ideologies. If a minority group exists that seeks the death or conversion of all other groups around it, it must be rehabilitated or removed. You do not let it grow. So says the Japanese saying: “The nail that sticks out, gets hammered down.”

Thirdly, you are not wrong to suggest that such a phrase can be used in reverse. But this corrupts intention. Even though a phrase might be said equally by another group, it does not hold the same truth. This is the difference between saying “We must strike down their evil (which is seeking the ultimate death of blacks, muslims, jews, etc)”, and them saying it to mean “We must strike down their evil (by exterminating blacks, muslims, jews, etc)”. The same phrase holds different meanings, and one means to act with violence to prevent large-scale violence and fear, while the other promotes violence and fear to all that do not bow to it. The latter is clearly evil, and were they a political body, we would see them as evil and genocidal.Thus, you cannot simply ignore those who speak this way. They must be removed somehow.

Fourthly, I talk a lot about the “correct use of violence” and Just War theory. What is often overlooked when I speak of these things is that Just War means seeking to avoid conflict before drawing swords to sweep the enemy away.With Neo-Nazi groups, I do remain hopeful that they (and indeed anyone) can be reformed and made to see the wickedness of their hatred and ignorance. But I do not think that arguments on the internet achieve this for a second. What changes it is exposure to the things they hated.Real talk: Knight used to be very anti-Islam. Not anti-Muslims, but anti-Islam. Knight saw it for a long time as a death cult. Knight made friends that are Pakistani and Muslim, both Sunni and Shia. Knight got a copy of the Quran and read it, with understanding from his friends. Knight is aware of the historical background behind Islamic extremism, and modern Muslims, and how they differ. Knight is no longer anti-Islam, though he is very anti-Salafist/Wahhabist.It is possible to change one’s beliefs, but it takes time and exposure. But not everyone is willing to change, and not everyone will listen.

When someone speaks and aims to intimidate or looks to harm or bully others, it is the vilest of cowardice not to stand up to those people and to permit them to behave as they do. If a Neo-Nazi, for example, is shouting at a Jewish family that they should be gassed, it is better to bring their focus to yourself and step in. If you can, confront them however is needed. If they will not listen (and they rarely do if they are spewing their hatred, and feelings are high), then I would rather bring them the threat of violence.Too often, the people that say others are sub-human, do not themselves start violence, because they want to hide behind ‘Freedom of Speech’. They want the people they persecute to be seen as violent, to justify their beliefs. They want someone else to start, so they can be violent in return, and play the victim.I have no qualms with breaking such people of this illusion of victimhood, if they intimidate others with threats of death. If they seek violence, then they may receive it, if they will not step down. There is always a point where words are of little use, and it becomes RIGHT even if not LAWFUL to strike back.This is where one must sometimes choose to be either GOOD or LAWFUL. Do you seek only peace when someone will not take the offer, or strike out when you know it shall incriminate you?

For a knight, the choice is the latter. For a knight is a figure of war and violence, as much as they are of law and justice. Thus when all else has failed, before words become the actions of a majority, when reason and peace does not exist, might we strike out.This is not an easy thing to do, to determine when violence is ever needed. When is Just War needed? When is it impermissible?Even though it may be hard, we must be prepared to distinguish. We must in our heart of hearts, be able to draw the line in the sand, and if that line is crossed, strike down another without pause. It should not be an easy line to cross, but it must exist.

[pro-ag-gressive-church]

X.C.R.I.S.I.S. will kill us if we don’t stop them NOW!

X.C.R.I.S.I.S. (Xrisitian Conservative Right In Seditious Insurrectionist States) The only "terrorist" group ACTUALLY posing a threat to the United States.

The "Conservative" movement in this country has become an unholy alliance between self proclaimed "christians" who ONLY quote the parts of Leviticus or Deuteronomy that validate their hate, and NEVER quote Jesus CHRIST (I call them Xristians to separate the extremists from the faithful), and the Cult of Ayn Rand who worship an economic fantasy from a badly written sci-fi novel that has NEVER worked in ANY practical application.

“You know the Bible says beware of false prophets. And there are people out there, you know, spreading noise about how much can get done. I mean this whole idea about shutting down government to get rid of Obamacare in 2013 – I mean, this plan never had a chance.” -Fmr. House Speaker, John Boehner

Read more at: http://www.forwardprogressives.com/john-boehners-trashing-ted-cruz-tea-party-just-proved-liberals-right-video/

The sooner we start treating Confederate Scum like the disease they are, and stop pretend they are human beings "with an opinion", the better.

Are Conservatives even people?

“What defines a person? What defines property? What’s the difference? The anthropologist and ethicist Dawn Prince-Hughes argues that the standards for personhood include self-awareness, an ability to understand complex emotions, and the capacity for empathy.” -Ted 2.

Conservatives clearly lack both the capacity to understand complex emotions and the empathy that particular definition of a "person" requires.It’s easy to see, in this perspective, how a corporation or fetus might seem like a “person” to them since they lack all but self awareness to qualify as one.

Unlike the primates Dr. Prince-Hughs studied to come up with this theory in her book "Songs of the Gorilla Nation: My Journey Through Autism", conservatives are clearly NOT people.

While that makes them property by the logic presented in the film, the truth is they should be at least considered as other primates until they can join the human race in it's otherwise unanimous understanding of those concepts.Some wild animals need to put down no matter how we anthropomorphize them, especially when they are as dangerous to society as conservatives have proven to be.

Some will see this as satire, but seriously... why are we treating these animals like humans, when they can’t provide the simple comfort of a purring cat, or loyal dog?

As the thinking and rational members of society, we have to take responsibility for letting this destructive “invasive species” of humanity loose. Like Coy fish or killer bees, we need to recognize that they are not capable of being part of society, or even the ecology in many cases, and instead of granting them membership as a right, make them earn it. Isn’t that exactly THEIR attitude with the undocumented, refugees from terror, and the poor. Do we not owe ourselves the right to hold them to the standards they set for others? Conservatives have EARNED genocide. Like poor Anne Frank, Liberals believe that all people are basically good, and just "misguided". They still haven't learned that Conservatism is a CANCER that needs to be ERADICATED like all cancer.

Just like the Civil War Criminals that we simply allowed to have all the spoils of their slavery in order to "make peace", we didn't execute the lying Conservatives who got us into the illegal wars in the middle east when we found out what they had done to us, and made us to do those nations.

Name a single liberal policy that will kill someone.

If we taxed the top 2% who make over $250,000 at a rate of 90%, do you know how many would be below the poverty line?

ZERO!!!!

Not a single one of them would have life as tough 45 million Americans live with EVERY DAY.

The fact is, in every way, the cause of Conservatism is to kill or enslave everyone not born with money.

Executing a Conservative is no more an act of violence than spraying germs with disinfectant, or taking an antibiotic.

Something is trying to kill you, slowly, but never the less it is trying to kill you.

Killing a Conservative is inherently an act of self defense.

Conservative = Cancer

You can't negotiate with cancer.

You can't reason with cancer.

You can't yell at cancer and make it behave.

You don't sit there dying and try to figure out how much of you, you will allow cancer to kill.

You poison it with chemicals. You cook it with radiation. You cut it out.

Cancer has lost its right to be part of your body because a small part of it’s “code” has become corrupt. It ignores the rules of the anatomy, and grows out of control reproducing that altered bad code jeopardizing your life.

Sometime you lose a lot in treating cancer. Especially if you've ignored it for too long and let it get out of control.

You can lose limbs. Vital organs. Lots of good cells and tissue that are NOT cancerous will die from the treatment the longer you pretend you DON'T have cancer.

You CAN be too late. You can face your final days in agony, knowing you are going die from cancer, because you didn't act soon enough.

Cancer may be a part of you, but it is a part of you that has betrayed EVERYTHING ELSE about you.

Conservative thought is social and political cancer.

We need to STOP pretending that this is a difference of opinion that can be negotiated and reasoned out, because "We The People..." are dying from it.

It looks, upon a casual examination, like it’s following the Constitution and the Bible, but it has altered a SMALL amount of those “codes” needed to keep this nation alive, and replicates that deadly code.

Isn't that what EVERY cancer does? Tries to re-write the code that keeps the system working?

In the case of Cancer the code is DNA.

In the case of society, the code is education of future generations, It needs to be treated like the danger that it is. It needs to be poisoned, cooked, and cut out of society, TO SAVE SOCIETY.

We need to try and cure it, and hope that it is not too late.

And that is going to hurt.

The question is... is the continued life of society WORTH the pain. Can we recover enough from the losses we will endure to have a life after we've killed all the cancer?

I think we can THRIVE. Unlike our bodies, removing this cancer will just make way for us to regrow the damaged parts, but only if we stop trying to talk it out, and start fighting for our lives before it's too late.

WE ARE AT WAR AND WE ARE DYING EVERYDAY.

IT'S TIME TO WAKE UP and START CAUSING CASUALTIES ON THEIR SIDE.

Killing a Conservative is not murder because CHOOSING the cause of Conservatism is not just a abandonment from American values, or betrayal of this nation...

It is a declaration of resignation from HUMANITY!!!!!

The Jews were dehumanized BY the Nazi's to justify genocide. Conservatives have DEHUMANIZED THEMSELVES, and EARNED their genocide as no Jew ever did.

JUST FUCKING LOOK AT WHAT THESE TERRORIST ARE CLAIMING!!! AND WHY?!?!??!

SO THEY CAN VALIDATE THEIR OWN VIOLENCE AGAINST US, AS "SELF DEFENSE"!!!!!

The delusion of Liberalism is that somehow they will find an acceptable middle ground with these religious fanatics.

The very act and method of embracing the ideologies and principles that these people have, DEFIES reason. There is NO amount of education or explanation that will change their mind. They are as immune to rational thought as the Muslim extremists in I.S.I.S./I.S.I.L. or Boko Haram. In fact, comparing their goals... the groups are identical save for two things.The respective books they aren't smart enough to actually read, and the amount of money they have to wage their war.

While the Islamic Extremists have access to millions, the Xrisitan Extremists in America have access to Billions!!!! Maybe even Trillions. When you can purchase rule from an unscrupulous "representative" of a democracy, you don't need overt violence to achieve your goals.

Your "Terror" to maintain control, takes the authoritative tone of POLICE BRUTALITY!

That's a hard concept to swallow. We are used to "terrorism" being an overt act that disrupts our daily scheduled lives.

In fact, there is no generally accepted definition of exactly what qualifies as terrorism, but every definition includes two common things. The use of FORCE and FEAR to obtain a goal. Daesh (ISIS/ISIL) can't buy the election processes in the myriad of countries they seek to control, so they use horror and military power to terrorize the population there.

Conservatives in America have bought our representation, and the media that can complain about it.

They use the law and daily policing as the FORCE to keep us afraid, and the ever changing media boogeyman to divert attention from their rule.

They are, by a legal definition, insane.

Under the "Model Penal code", a defendant is legally insane if at the time a crime is committed they are unable to:

1. Appreciate the criminality of his conduct; or

2. Conform his conduct to the requirements of the law

"The second question is whether the mental illness interfered with the defendant's ability to distinguish right from wrong. That is, did the defendant know that the alleged behavior was against the law at the time the offense was committed."

Tell me this does not define the actions of the Conservative movement at this time.

So how do you protect 38-41% of the nation's population from harming others, and themselves, without allowing yourself to be the victim of their insanity? THAT is the question the left needs to answer among ourselves before we can start to move forward.

Peaceful resistance can only work if you can embarrass your opponent with their hypocrisy. The "right" in America has already convinced themselves that WE deserve to die for our "sins". They will slaughter us without a hint of guilt, and thank their god’s name for having been given the opportunity. Liberals believe that "Nobody wants war." That is our fatal flaw. THESE people DO want war. They are just not rational or reasonable. Fighting back is not the choice we WANT to make, but a necessity for our survival. We need to force these extremists to accept OUR authority, or we will cede it to them.

This really comes from the fact that "American Christianity" or as I call it, Xristianity isn't a form of Christianity at all.

It is form of "Protestant Judaism" where the Old Testament is given more weight than the word of Christ.

The hate all comes from books of Leviticus and Deuteronomy.

The Xristians are really a heretical form of Judaism in the belief that there WAS a Jesus Christ, and the adaptation of Baptism as a forcible means to expand their faith, where if they just accepted the fact that they were in fact Jews, they would by tradition be required to shun converts, not seek them aggressively.

They are also a heretical form of Christianity in the denial that Christ fulfilled the Covenant of the old Testament, making the word of Christ supersede most of the old Testament.

Making it worse, there is the historical "persecution" of Christians by the Roman Empire, who ALSO considered them to be "just Jews".

The Christians of the day were at odds with traditional Judaism, and basically refused to pay the tax levied by the Romans against the Jews for worshiping gods other than the Pagan Roman gods. Something the Jews had not had problems with for centuries.

That and the fact that according to Christ, prayer should be in secret and NOT a public display made the early Christian faith a target for Roman suspicion and justice, which was then rewritten from denying reasonable demands of society that provided for, and protected most of it's citizens, into history as "Persecution”.

Today’s Xristians represent the worst of all worlds. They’ve retained the “persecution” myth while forcing people to accept their faith, all the while ignoring the actual peaceful teachings of the man their faith is named after.

They SHOULD be afraid to admit they loved Jesus if they actually READ the parts of their bible that Jesus is credited with, because Jesus preached keeping your faith between you and God.

But it is a faith that has been mutated into a political entity, which goes against the U.S. Constitution they ALSO fail to read, and forced on a group that is REWARDED for ignorance.

"WHITE HERITAGE" It's time "white" people learn what they really supposed to be "proud" of instead of what they have been sold on as "white pride".

I've never had to kick ass at 6 to 1 odds with "Black Power" people. I've had to deal with that shit with "White Power" assholes, and I'm a pasty ass, pink as shit, Irishman.

Clearly I'm NOT "white", honestly... see no advantage to being one outside of prison where I would probably be pigeon holed into being by extremists into aligning with ARYAN Nation simply because my white skin would prohibit me from teaming up other groups.

A majority of Xristianity SHOULD be under attack. The fear of Jade Helm, and Obama is a representation of their collective guilty conscience.

They KNOW they have violated the Constitution.

They know they have taken God’s name in vain.

They know they have the wrath of God coming and refuse to accept that they are the "bad guy".

They are so afraid, because they knows they have this coming, and if our roles were reversed they would gladly bring US to HIS justice.

They know… deep down, that they deserve to die. That their children need to be saved from his ideology.

War is never an agreement to violence. It is one group deciding they have they have the right to kill the other to enforce their will.

You either watch those your loved ones die, and you are victim to those trying to kill you, or you fight back.

The question is, who is trying to "kill" the "Conservative Confederate South"?

We've tried to give them Health Care. We've tried to give them an equal vote.

If anything, the "liberal media" has bent over backward to try and give these inhuman monsters an equal voice to those of sane people with, fact based, reasoning.

YES!!!! I SAY WE SHOULD ENFORCE OUR WILL ON THEM.

I SAY WE SHOULD USE WHATEVER LEVEL OF VIOLENCE IT TAKES NOW, BEFORE WE ARE THE VICTIMS OF THEIRS.

We are literally fighting to make their lives better.

If we cannot find a way to remove them politically as mentally ill, we MUST take this to a level of force before X.C.R.I.S.I.S. is a threat far worse than Daesh (I.S.I.S./I.S.I.L). could be.

I know this ends with SOMEBODY in DEATH CAMPS, and I know it's usually the person willing to compromise that walks into them, and those who look at compromise as weakness who send them, leaving us with only the worst people in the world.

https://medium.com/message/how-white-people-got-made-6eeb076ade42

[deniscollins]

News or ‘Trauma Porn’? Student Journalists Face Blowback on Campus

What would you do if you were a college newspaper photographer and a student activist didn’t like the picture of her sprawled out on the ground being pushed hard by a policeman and posted on Twitter “Colin [photographer] please can we stop this trauma porn. I was on the ground being shoved and pushed hard by the police. You don’t have to intervene but you also didn’t have to put a camera in front of me top down.” (1) keep the picture posted on newspaper social media page or (2) remove the photo? Why? What are the ethics underlying your decision?

Jeff Sessions, President Trump’s former attorney general, was speaking to a packed lecture hall on Northwestern University’s campus last week, but the real action was unfolding offstage.

Student protesters were pushing through a back door of the building. The police confronted them and tried, unsuccessfully, to block their entrance. Colin Boyle, a student photographer for The Daily Northwestern, the campus newspaper, captured it all.

After the event, Ying Dai, one of the students, saw a photo of herself on his Twitter feed — sprawled painfully on the floor — and addressed him directly.

“Colin please can we stop this trauma porn,” she wrote on Twitter. “I was on the ground being shoved and pushed hard by the police. You don’t have to intervene but you also didn’t have to put a camera in front of me top down.”

By the end of the night, Mr. Boyle had deleted the picture, and not long after, editors at The Daily Northwestern published a statement apologizing for their journalists having posted photographs of protesters on social media, and for using the school directory to attempt to contact students.

The newspaper’s response set off a national firestorm this week. Prominent professional journalists derided the apology and weighed in to note, often incredulously, that the Northwestern journalists had been doing some of the most basic, standard work that reporters have always done — watching public events, interviewing people and describing what they saw.

“The Daily had an obligation to capture the event, both for the benefit of its current audience as well as for posterity,” Charles Whitaker, dean of Northwestern’s highly acclaimed Medill journalism school, said in a lengthy statement he issued as the debate roiled the journalism profession.

The episode was the latest in a series of flare-ups on college campuses across the country, where shifting sensibilities and heightened criticism of the media have made the environment thornier for student journalists.

In interviews, some student journalists said they had addressed the clashes by adhering to what they described as core tenets of a free press. Others said they found themselves struggling to meet two dueling goals: responding to the changing expectations of the students they cover, particularly from those on the political left, while upholding widely accepted standards of journalism.

“Nobody at this point quite knows how to do that,” said Olivia Olander, 19, a sophomore who covered the Sessions speech for Northwestern News Network, a television channel on campus. “Everybody’s trying to figure out a solution and still be good journalists along the way.”

At a time when some say heightened sensitivities have become the norm on American campuses, it is not uncommon for college newspaper editors to be confronted by students who are upset at being photographed in a public place without being asked for their permission; who view receiving a text message or phone call from a reporter as an invasion of their privacy; and who expect journalists to help assuage their concerns that graphic images in a newspaper could cause trauma to readers.

Greta Bjornson, who worked last academic year as the editor of The Vermont Cynic, a student newspaper at the University of Vermont, said that student activists sometimes raised valid points about a lack of diversity on the newspaper staff. Other times, she said, they would ask to change a headline after publication, or would decline to talk to reporters.

“It’s just changing so quickly,” said Ms. Bjornson, 22. “I think it’s just a tricky time, especially to be a student journalist. No matter what you do, I feel like you’re going to make somebody angry.”

In Evanston, the lakefront suburb of Chicago that is home to Northwestern, students who were involved in the conflict over coverage of the Sessions speech said they had endured several days of painful but ultimately fruitful discussions, culminating with The Daily’s apologetic statement on Sunday.

“Ultimately, The Daily failed to consider our impact in our reporting surrounding Jeff Sessions,” said the statement, signed by eight editors. “We know we hurt students that night, especially those who identify with marginalized groups.”

In an interview, Mr. Boyle, 21, the student photographer who deleted photographs he had posted, said that while he supported the First Amendment, he did not intend to cause trauma to the people he photographed.

“There was definitely a lot of panic,” Mr. Boyle, a senior majoring in journalism who grew up in Chicago, said of his reaction to being criticized. “There was me being worried that I’m hurting people with my coverage.”

Troy Closson, the editor in chief of The Daily Northwestern, wrote on Twitter that he felt added pressure as only the third African-American student to hold the top position at the paper in its more than 135-year history. “Being in this role and balancing our coverage and the role of this paper on campus with my racial identity — and knowing how our paper has historically failed students of color, and particularly black students, has been incredibly challenging to navigate,” he wrote.

Mr. Whitaker, the Medill dean, defended The Daily, but criticized the paper’s decision to apologize.

“I have also offered that it is naïve, not to mention wrongheaded, to declare, as many of our student activists have, that The Daily staff and other student journalists had somehow violated the personal space of the protesters by reporting on the proceedings, which were conducted in the open and were designed, ostensibly, to garner attention,” he said.

In a coffee shop in Evanston on Tuesday, Ms. Dai, 23, the student who had questioned Mr. Boyle’s photograph of her, said that she and other activists were trying to challenge journalistic norms and push for a more sensitive approach to reporting that considers the vulnerability of the people whose lives are portrayed.

“We weren’t there to get in the newspaper,” she said of the protest at the Sessions event. “We weren’t there to get national attention. People still hold dear that their journalistic duty is the most important thing, and that’s not the case.”

Campus activists and student journalists have long wrestled with tensions. In 1990, students burned copies of The University Daily Kansan after an editor changed the publication’s style for referring to African-American students from “Black” to “black.” At the time, the change brought the newspaper in line with the style of The Associated Press, but it was seen as offensive by some on campus.

In 2015, students at Wesleyan University petitioned to deny funds to the campus paper after a student wrote a column voicing skepticism about the Black Lives Matter movement. And at the University of Missouri that year, an assistant professor called for “some muscle” to remove a journalist who was trying to photograph an encampment of protesters seeking action to address racial issues.

At Harvard this year, more than a dozen student groups have joined a boycott of a student-run newspaper, The Harvard Crimson, over its coverage of a student protest calling for the abolition of the United States Immigration and Customs Enforcement agency.

The controversy centered on the reporters’ decision to contact ICE officials for comment after the rally. Groups like Act on a Dream, the immigrants’ rights advocacy group that organized the rally, criticized the paper on social media for reaching out to the federal agency, saying that doing so had put undocumented students who participated in the rally in danger.

In a note to readers, The Crimson’s president, Kristine E. Guillaume, and its managing editor, Angela N. Fu, said that in their view a core principle of journalism was at stake in the dispute — that of contacting every person or organization relevant to a story to seek their comment.

While The Crimson’s top editors have stood their ground, Act on a Dream and others have posted an online petition demanding that the paper apologize for “the harm they inflicted on the undocumented community” and that it change its policies. The groups have said they will boycott The Crimson by declining any interview requests until the paper changes its practices.

Those signing the petition included the Harvard College Democrats; the Phillips Brooks House Association, Harvard’s largest community service organization; and several groups representing Latino and black students.

The debate has reached the student government, which voted narrowly to issue a statement criticizing The Crimson and expressing solidarity with Act on a Dream.

And there has been dissent within The Crimson. Danu Mudannayake, 21, a senior who is an illustrator at the paper, said in an interview, “We just internally want to see more done to address the concerns on campus and not uphold this quite cold front that ‘We are a newspaper at the end of the day, and that is before anything else.’”

She suggested that the era called for a different kind of journalism, particularly for student journalists.

“We can still be serious student journalists, but still have more empathy,” she said. “I think the question of empathetic journalism is, at least for us on the inside, what’s at the heart of it.”

Hadar Harris, the executive director of the Washington-based Student Press Law Center, said she saw the incidents at Harvard and Northwestern as a reflection of a polarized society beyond colleges. She said student journalists often face the pressure of reporting in real time to a wider audience, and may not have all the training and support they need.

On most large college campuses, including Northwestern’s, students manage, write and publish newspapers independently. Some publications have faculty advisers, but the final editorial decisions are generally made by students.

“No one wants to be sexist or racist or homophobic,” Ms. Harris said. “There needs to be training to enable student journalists to really cover these complicated issues without being buffeted by political concerns.”

For Robyn Cawley, editor in chief of The Daily Cardinal at the University of Wisconsin, it was a small relief that the confrontation in Evanston had happened far away from her turf in Madison.

“I was thinking, like, imagine if this had happened on our campus,” she said. “We would have sent somebody to the protest. We wouldn’t have given it a second thought. You’re out in public, you’re protesting, it’s very likely you’re going to have some sort of media coverage there.”

Ms. Cawley, who is majoring in English and environmental studies, said she had occasionally felt pressure from fellow students who have tried to exert control over the paper’s coverage. Once, she said, the College Democrats urged her to take down an article, arguing that it presented them in an unflattering light.

“I was like, of course you’re not going to like it,” she said. “Good for you. That’s the point of journalism.”

[clubofinfo]

Expert: For as long as anyone can remember violence and conflict have been part of daily life: humanity appears incapable of living peacefully together. There are the brutal cries of war, the vile acts of terror, homicides, rapes and assaults of all kinds. People everywhere long for an end to such conflicts, and are crying out for peace and understanding, to live in a just world free from fear. Creating a world at peace not only demands putting an end to all forms of armed brutality, it also entails building peace within communities, in the workplace, educational institutions and the home, in the natural environment and, most importantly, it requires the inculcation of harmony within all of us. Each of these areas of living are interconnected, the prevailing condition in each affecting the stability and atmosphere of the other. The task before us is to identify and change the prevailing divisive modes of living for inclusive ways that facilitate peace and cultivate tolerance. Peace itself is part of our essential nature: when the conditions of conflict are removed, peace between groups and within individuals arises naturally. We are Society Society is not an abstraction; it is a reflection of the consciousness of the individuals that make up any given community. As such, the responsibility for the nature of a town, city, school, office, country, region, etc., rests largely with those who live within its boundaries. I say “largely” because the corporate and state bodies that fashion the structures and promote the ideals of the day bear a large part of the responsibility. Specific values and conclusions are daily poured into the minds of everyone, virtually from birth, conditioning the consciousness and behavior of people around the world; the media (including the internet), institutionalized education and organized religion being the main outlets for such propaganda. Variations on the nature of such conditioning are determined by circumstances of birth and background: the religious, political, socio-economic belief systems, the values of the family, the region and/or the country. All ism’s are inhibiting and divisive, and as the Dalai Lama says in A Human Approach to World Peace, when they are adopted people lose “sight of the basic humanity that binds us all together as a single human family.” Freedom of thought and independent creative thinking is denied, conformity expected. And can there be peace when the mind is imprisoned within the confines of a doctrine, no matter how lofty? Whilst it is true that a symbiotic relationship exists between society and the individual, fundamentally the external world in which we live is a reflection of the internal life of humanity. Violent, disharmonious societies are the external manifestation of the inner turmoil, discontent and fear that many people feel. The business of War The loudest, ugliest form of violence is war, the machinery of which is a huge global industry greatly valued by the corporate state. It is a business ostensibly like any other, the difference being its products are intended to kill people and destroy everything in their path. Like all businesses, weapons manufacturers operate to generate profits: wars are big business for arms companies, and therefore highly profitable, desirable even. International arms sales (dominated by America, with 34% of the total) according to the BBC “is now worth about $100bn.” By contrast, to end world hunger, which currently crushes the lives of around a billion people globally, would cost a mere $30 billion per year. And we wonder why there is no peace – how can there be peace when such gross injustice and inhumanity persist? Profit, whether financial remuneration, status or power, is the principle motivating force within the working methodology of the global economic system. It is an unjust model that promotes a range of divisive, therefore violent values, including selfishness, competition and ambition. It thrives on and continually engenders dissatisfaction, and can there be peace when there is discontent? Enormous wealth and power for a handful of men flow from the Ideology of Consumerism, leading to unprecedented levels of inequality in income/wealth, influence, education, health care, employment opportunities, access to culture and freedom to travel. Inequality is a fundamental form of social injustice: peace will never be realized where social injustice exists. Nor can peace be known when hunger, poverty, and exploitation, flowing from (financial) vulnerability, stalk the land destroying the lives of millions throughout the world. Removing the obstacles to peace Extreme inequality is a vile stain on our common humanity; inequality between the hideously wealthy, who have everything but want more, and the desperately poor, who have nothing, can barely feed themselves and live lives stunted by suffering; inequality between the economically secure and habitually complacent, and those who work until they drop yet can barely pay the rent. The hierarchy of injustice is crude at the extremes, variable in the middle and toxic throughout. It feeds anger and resentment and crushes peace. Together with a ‘dog-eat-dog’ mentality, global inequality fuels insecurity and fear, both psychological and physical, leading to tension, anxiety and depression. It fosters bitterness, crushes hope and strengthens false notions of superiority and inferiority. This in turn reinforces the prevailing fear and a strengthening spiral of suspicion, intolerance and unease is set in motion, thereby denying the quiet manifestation of peace. The realization of peace is inextricably related to the introduction of a new socio-economic order based on values altogether different from the existing model. A socially just system that reduces inequality, encourages cooperation instead of competition, and facilitates equal access to well designed accommodation, good quality health care and stimulating education. Where social justice exists trust develops, relationships evolve, peace comes into being. At the heart of any alternative system should be the inculcation of the Principle of Sharing; sharing not only of the food, water, land and other natural resources, but of knowledge, skills and opportunities. Sharing encourages cooperation between people from different backgrounds, allowing understanding and tolerance to grow. Tolerance of those who look different, pray and think differently, and understanding that humanity is one, that the human condition is universal no matter one’s circumstances or worldview. That we share one home, which we are all responsible for, and that in every corner of the world men, women and children want the same things: to live in peace free from fear, to build a decent life for themselves and their families and to be happy. When we share, we acknowledge our common need, our shared humanity and our universal rights. Through sharing, a more equitable world can evolve; sharing, together with cooperation, tolerance and understanding are key elements of the time, and when expressed – individually and collectively – allow for peace to naturally come into being. Complementary to such Principles of Goodness, forgiveness and the absence of retaliation or retribution are essential in establishing peace. As is well documented, punishment without rehabilitation and compassion is a recipe for despondency, more violence and further acts of crime. Such actions have dogged humanity since records began, as has war, and while there have been tremendous advances in technology, medicine and science, the consciousness of humanity seems to have changed very little, we remain violent, selfish and fearful. As the Dalai Lama puts it, “there is no doubt about the increase in our material progress and technology, but somehow this is not sufficient as we have not yet succeeded in bringing about peace and happiness or in overcoming suffering…the basic human problems remain.” The overcoming of these ‘basic problems’ and the realization of peace both flow from the same root: the recognition of mankind’s essential unity, and the cultivation of a sense of “universal responsibility”. Fragmentation and dishonesty of mind must be resolved, fear and desire understood. The current modes of living inflame these negative tendencies and make what already appears difficult, even more so. Discontent and desire are constantly agitated, social and national divisions inflamed, and an atmosphere of insecurity created. At the same time a reductive image of happiness and security is portrayed through mainstream films, TV and other media outlets. It is a hollow construct based on pleasure, the fulfillment of emotionally rooted desires and material satisfactions, none of which will ever create lasting happiness or inner peace. Peace does not lie inside walls of division, whether formed of concrete or constructed out of some ideological doctrine, but, like lasting happiness, reveals itself when there is total freedom from desire. http://clubof.info/

[barrypurcell]

[Title Redacted]

 How Not to Address Holocaust Denial and Anti-Semitism

When initially asked about Facebook’s refusal to remove the InfoWars page, John Hegeman, head of Facebook’s News Feed, said, “I guess just for being false that doesn’t violate the community standards.” More recently, however, InfoWars was banned from YouTube, iTunes, Spotify and Facebook, all within a twelve-hour period.

Although it might seem uncontroversial to keep objectively awful content off social media, historically, censorship and de-platforming has done nothing at all to slow down its spread. In fact, as many conspiracy theories are centered around a victim complex, censorship of any kind can make that complex worse. What has, historically, slowed down the spread of false information is exposure.

In 2009, when Facebook was initially asked to remove holocaust denial pages, their official position was that “being offensive or objectionable doesn’t get it taken off Facebook.” More recently, Mark Zuckerberg said that he wasn’t going to remove Facebook pages advocating holocaust denial, because “there are things that different people get wrong” and it’s more or less impossible to “understand the intent” of such pages. Conversely, the AskHistorians subreddit has pre-emptively banned all Holocaust denial, and strongly urged Facebook to do the same.

Does Facebook Have a Point?

To the delight of an unlikely alliance of authoritarian left wingers and right-wing Israelis, Holocaust denial is explicitly or implicitly illegal in Austria, Belgium, the Czech Republic, France, Germany, Hungary, Israel, Liechtenstein, Lithuania, Luxembourg, the Netherlands, Poland, Portugal, Romania, Russia, Slovakia and Switzerland.

While there can be no reasonable doubt that the Third Reich did its best to eliminate an entire race of people, along with Jehovah’s Witnesses and gays, inter alia, a problem arises when you legally prevent people from saying that this never happened. These governments have taken it upon themselves to censor people’s opinions. The fact that these opinions are incorrect or that they stem from people with a Nazi ideology is irrelevant: freedom of speech is meaningless if you are only free to speak the right opinion.

Anti-Semitism

In 1979, French academic Robert Faurisson was fined 21,000 francs and given a suspended sentence for denying the Holocaust on national television. Hundreds of people (most notably Noam Chomsky) signed a petition, registering their concern about the consequences for civil rights in France. The following year, Faurisson used a copyright-free essay by Chomsky in defense of the general principles of free speech—without Chomsky’s permission—as the preface to his book, “Mémoire en Défense: contre ceux qui m’accusent de falsifier l’histoire”. Although he specifically rejected the idea that he was defending Faurisson in the piece, Chomsky was subsequently vilified as a Nazi sympathizer and anti-Semite.

Claims of anti-Semitism are so commonly used to silence everything from the mildest criticism of Israeli government policy to genuinely egregious attempts at historical revisionism that it’s almost impossible to assess such accusations objectively. It doesn’t make things any easier that the Israeli government is quite open about its official organization, hasbara, which trains and deploys people to intervene in any and all criticisms of Israel found everywhere from Facebook comment sections to campus debating societies, and has been criticized by the Israeli press for acting as a “substitute for policymaking.”

What we can say, with some certainty, is that anti-Semitic attacks have been measurably on the rise in Europe and the United States. We may not know for some time whether this alarming rise is causing, or caused by, the recent lurch to the right of the electorate in the developed world.

The Holocaust Denial Mind

The more you learn about the Holocaust, the more grotesque and horrifying it seems. The human mind recoils so much that you may even momentarily entertain the thought that surely such a thing could not possibly have happened. But it is important for the study of history, politics and the human mind to understand that it did.

In 1980, the right-wing Institute for Historical Review, whose mission was to promulgate Holocaust denial, announced a $50,000 reward for anyone who could prove that Jews were gassed at Auschwitz. Auschwitz survivor Mel Mermelstein applied for the reward. When they refused to pay, Mr. Mermelstein took them to court and effectively won his case. In 1985, the institute issued a formal apology to Mr. Mermelstein “for the pain, anguish and suffering he and all other Auschwitz survivors have sustained” as a result of their having made such an offer.

If you trawl the dark corners of the internet, where conspiracy theories breed, you will encounter lots of Holocaust deniers. They occupy the same mental space (and sometimes the same physical space) as people who question the JFK assassination, or who believe that the 9/11 bombings were an inside job. The psychology behind these conspiracy theories is easy enough to understand. First, it’s much more comfortable to believe that dark forces are causing these terrible things than to accept that sometimes genuinely awful things happen for fairly banal reasons. Secondly—much like praying to a god—holding secret knowledge about the “real” explanations for significant events gives a sense of control to the kind of people who have often been excluded from avenues of power.

There are two aspects to Holocaust denialism. The first, of course, is to deny the Holocaust: to claim that it either never happened, or has been wildly exaggerated for reasons which invariably include the idea that this is all a marketing exercise to ensure sympathy for the formation of a Jewish state—to assert that all the records were faked, all the witnesses were lying. I’ve seen people claim, for instance, that around 500,000 Jews were killed, instead of the generally accepted figure of 6 million. Only an anti-Semitic mind could believe that killing 500,000 Jews for any reason would not itself be noteworthy. There are also those who claim that Hitler wasn’t as bad as he has been made out to be, and that he was perfectly fair to Jews in Germany.

The second common gambit is to explain at length how Jews are destroying the world, how they only look after their own kind, how they run the banks and the movies, how they’re also somehow in charge of the labor movements, and how the whole world economy is just a front for Jews who want to get rich from the labor of others. Some even urge that the Jews need to be stopped by any means necessary. Though it is rarely explicitly stated, there is a strong undercurrent to this sort of thinking—that no one could really have blamed Hitler for killing so many Jews.

So, according to this view, the Jews were not killed in the Holocaust, and anyway, if they were, they had it coming. As it turns out, the anti-Semitic thread running through all these arguments is precisely the same sort of hateful rubbish that led to an environment of acceptance of genocide. At the very least, the more hate you promulgate towards the Jews, the greater the demonstration of how much worse it must have been when hating Jews was socially acceptable.

In 1987, revisionist historian David Irving published a book called “Churchill’s War”. In 1993, historian Deborah Lipstadt published “Denying the Holocaust”, which referred to “Churchill’s War” and accused Irving of using different standards of evidence, depending on whether or not a piece of information fit his anti-Semitic theories. In 1996, Irving sued Lipstadt for libel. Despite the fact that he purposefully filed the case in an English court, where the lower standards of evidence required made it easier to prosecute a case for defamation than in any other jurisdiction in which Lipstadt’s book was published, the judge ruled that “he is an active Holocaust denier; that he is anti-Semitic and racist.”

Irving was bankrupted by the case, and his career was destroyed, as historians pored over his previous works in the light of Lipstadt’s book. In the end, what destroyed Irving was not his repeated de-platforming all over the world, but the presentation of Lipstadt’s more compelling view, backed up by more convincing facts.

In 2005, Austrian police arrested Irving on the basis of a 1989 warrant for publicly denying the Holocaust. During these proceedings, he said he had changed his mind: “I made a mistake,” because “The Nazis did murder millions of Jews.”

Stopping Hate

One of the problems with fascism, like other fringe political movements, is that it thrives in the dark. The idea that some things can’t be talked about feeds into the victim complex that far-right ideology requires. Censorship doesn’t shut fascists down: it empowers them. Removing offensive opinions from public discourse does not remove them from our lives, but, like vampires, they explode when sunlight hits them.

For Facebook, whose primary interest is in making money, rather than acting as a fact-checking site for political propaganda, mass action on hate speech is very difficult, given that it’s a demand-side rather than a supply-side problem. Although it probably doesn’t feel like it at the time, people choose when and how to take offence. There is always a risk that people will get offended by worthwhile ideas that are nevertheless very unpopular, and safeguarding people from toxic ideologies could turn into babysitting the most offendable users. Catering to the most sensitive members of the audience has a stultifying effect on public discourse, and presumably the more worthwhile values are not so fragile that they require paternalistic protection from being questioned. The best response to bad ideas will always be good ideas and it still counts as censorship even if the thing you’re not allowed to say is incredibly stupid.

One of the prices of free speech is the risk that charismatic malefactors might influence others to do harm, but free speech is objectively more important than that risk. Freedom of speech necessarily supersedes anything you have to say.

The original title of this article was the ironic “Was The Holocaust Really That Bad?” The fact that the title had to be redacted, to ensure it avoided ending up on a list on a server in a dark basement somewhere demonstrates the need for this sort of discussion. The fact that people would have reacted with outrage without actually reading any of the article is part of the problem. Censoring all references to it merely prevents public access to the information necessary to understand why Holocaust denial is such an odious ideology.

Areo Magazine, 9 August 2018

[vulnerablea]

transformative justice in different contexts

so like, one of the things i think about a lot is how a lot of my feelings on disposability and abuse politics specifically apply to multiply marginalized interpersonal relationships.

something i bring up in my academic and creative work a lot is how our so-called activist communities are becoming increasingly fractured because we take what we have learned from being traumatized by men in power (which is mostly white, rich, cis, straight, abled men), and often just men in general, and try to apply it to each other.

and this just doesn’t work, because what it means is that we have multiply marginalized people hurting each other back and forth with the weapons that ultimately aren’t “the answer,” not even the powerful men. those weapons are things we use in the short term, because we don’t have anything else, because we are trying to survive, because we need to try to deal with them somehow. but what happens when our attempts at survival in a brutal world turn into methods of warfare against each other?

but when i use the same rage and anger that i direct at a white man against a non-binary disabled white queer person, it’s just not the same. i can talk about how these two people are both white, both uphold white supremacy just by the fact of who they are conditioned to be. and this is true.... to an extent. but it’s also true that whiteness runs through my biracial body.... to an extent. and there are varying extents, varying ways we are torn apart by systems of oppression, ways we try to construct ourselves with the oppressors’ tools, which necessitate the exploitation of others. and i think it’s important to recognize these differing valences of impact and intention.

ultimately, though, there is a difference between someone who is trying and fucking up, and someone who is so far immersed in their privilege, so upheld by these powerful forces, that they don’t need to or want to try at all. there is a difference between abusive behaviour that comes from so much power and abusive behaviour that comes from a crisis of power, sure, but probably even more so from a complicated combination of trauma, brokenness, and a failure of community response. there is a difference between someone who wants to and is trying to change, and someone who doesn’t even need to think about changing. and i would argue that most multiply marginalized people fall into some spectrum of the former, or eventually find themselves there.

transformative justice is for everyone and everything, on the macro and micro levels, but not all of us are able to participate in creating transformative justice everywhere. as a multiply marginalized person, i find that i simply don’t have even a grasp of even footing against powerful men, and the only way i might be able to even attempt at getting closer to transformative justice with them is to call for the removal of their power through movements like #metoo or their less mainstreamed versions. sometimes transformative justice requires even a violent removal of power. but at its heart, transformative justice is about the bridge of healing and change, not punishment.

sometimes the revolutionary process is violent when the stakes are so high, but it’s important to recognize that when we apply a violent takeover of power to multiply marginalized interpersonal relationships, we are actually creating so much further harm. we are actually attacking people who are already wounded and traumatized in a way that powerful groups just aren’t. whiteness isn’t the same everywhere. maleness isn’t either. there are a lot of things that change depending on scale. degrees of harm matter (i’m trying to remember an article that put this really eloquently but i can’t right now...)

as porpentine says, “punishment [in its truly traumatizing form] is not something that happens to bad people. it is something that happens to people who cannot stop it from happening.”

the “punishment” of powerful men, when finally successfully enacted, isn’t actually an interpersonal attack. it’s an organized strategy, a revolutionary action, that attempts to change the structure of power. eventually, the hope goes, even these men will be able to be approached on an interpersonal level. even these men, once stripped of at least some of their immense power, will be approachable in a transformative way. it isn’t punishment when you can still be a person.

(this isn’t to say that i don’t support survivors who manage to attack their abusers directly, or harm them in some final way. or survivors who seek “justice” via the prison system because they are desperate for something, even if it ends up harming them more than maybe expected. i do understand this, and sometimes intimately relate to it. but, this is not a strategy for justice, and shouldn’t be confused as such. survivors who retaliate in this way should be supported because of the horror that led them to such a point, the trauma they could not deal with in any other way. this should not be a vision of justice, but rather an acknowledgment of trauma.)

the punishment of a multiply marginalized person, though, is about the stripping of personhood. and the nature of being traumatized people reenacting our trauma (and its attendant instabilities and insecurities) onto each other is that we may try to punish each other by establishing a definite, clear dichotomy of who is an abuser and who is a survivor, when this is a false dichotomy -- in general and among us as well.

okay, i ended up having to do a bunch of other things and have kind of lost my train of thought and anyway this post has ended up being really long, so maybe i’ll try to finish it some other time. sorry this is unfinished for now... but i basically want to talk about how complicated methodology for “dealing with abuse” is, and honestly needs to be. and how transformative justice means a lot of different things depending on power differentials. but also how as multiply marginalized people in activist / social justice communities, we need to treat each other better, try more for each other, and not dispose of each other.

[grumblenz]

The Intolerant Tolerance Police

On their mission to purge the world of thoughts and opinions that don’t slot neatly into their moral agenda and worldview, the increasingly intolerant tolerance police have done some severe damage along the way.

We are frequently bombarded with headlines and hand-wringing over meaningless controversies ignited by people who, I’m convinced, wake up in the morning desperate to find the next focus for their endless capacity for moral outrage. For the most part, these so-called scandals are initiated by those who identify themselves as liberals — and the lines of battle are drawn around issues of race, gender, sexual orientation etc.

Our hyper-sensitive social media culture lends itself perfectly to these kinds of non-controversies, where something as simple as a badly worded tweet can, within minutes, direct a storm of abuse and online bullying toward an individual. The end result can range from a person being forced to issue a public apology for their opinion, to losing their job — or even taking their own life.

The examples are numerous, but one recent case stands out.

View image on Twitter

In December, porn star August Ames committed suicide following a tweet expressing her preference not to shoot scenes with an actor who had previously done gay porn. The tweet sparked an onslaught of abuse against Ames who attempted to defend herself against accusations of homophobia, but it was too late. The modern judges of moral acceptability had already made up their minds. Ames deserved to be trashed endlessly online for her unacceptable lapse in moral judgement. One gay porn actor, Jaxton Wheeler, told Ames to apologize or “swallow a cyanide pill” — as if her personal preference was so heinous that she deserved to die for it. Days later she was found dead. The cause of her death was asphyxiation due to hanging.

This is the totalitarianism and petty tyranny of the liberal tolerance doctrine at work. It is not enough to have your opinion and let others have theirs. No, no. We must all share the same exact moral standards and worship the same ideals — or perhaps we deserve to die. At the very least, those who stray deserve to face an avalanche of public abuse before repenting and falling in line.

Ames’ suicide is one of the more shocking stories, but there are countless examples of these moral ‘controversies’.

When actress Lili Reinhart posted a picture of a woman in a Halloween costume — painted head-to-toe in black paint to resemble a mythical demon — she was immediately accused by other Twitter users of being racially insensitive, making fun of black people and of not seeing the ‘racist implications’ of the costume. Of course, Reinhart apologized and deleted the tweet — because that’s the only recourse following such an apparently massive indiscretion.

Read more

Just say sorry: MPs in Westminster sex scandal need ‘only to apologize’

Perhaps one of these uber-enlightened individuals should release a rulebook for everyone else to follow. After all, it’s a minefield out there. So, I nominate the author of a blog post which warned parents of young girls not to allow them to dress up as Disney’s Moana princess for Halloween because it risks “making fun of” Polynesian culture. One can easily imagine the same blogger writing an article complaining that it was ‘racist’ if white girls didn’t want to dress up as Moana. But don’t be fooled into thinking it’s okay for white girls to dress up as white characters, either. Later in the post, the blogger warns that girls dressing up as Elsa from Frozen risks promoting white beauty, which is also highly problematic, apparently.

The internet is littered with these petty controversies.

When Vanity Fair recently poked fun at Hillary Clinton’s long career in politics with a video that advised her to get a new hobby in the new year, like “knitting” or “improv comedy”, it prompted yet another meltdown from the tolerance crew. You can’t tell a woman to take up knitting, they roared, that’s sexist! Or maybe…it’s just a joke? But don’t be silly, jokes aren’t allowed anymore. Never mind that it was a woman who made the comments about Clinton in the light-hearted video.

A couple of years back, the Museum of Fine Arts Boston was forced to cancel an event during which visitors to the museum would be allowed try on a kimono. One outraged group of individuals started a website called Stand Against Yellowface to fight the terrible injustice perpetrated by the Boston museum. But guess who didn’t care? Japanese people. An official from the Japanese consulate in Boston commented: “We actually do not quite understand what their point of protest is.”

Or how about this gem? A janitor at an Indiana university was accused of “racial harassment” for the crime of reading a historical book about the Ku Klux Klan on his lunch break. The book in question was Notre Dame vs. the Klan: How the Fighting Irish Defeated the Ku Klux Klan. Keith John Sampson, the 58 year-old janitor, who was also a student at the university, tried to explain that it was a history book, but that wasn’t good enough for the school’s affirmative action officer, who told Sampson that “his conduct constituted racial harassment” and that he had exhibited “extremely poor judgement” by reading it out in the open. You see, you must educate yourself about the history of slavery in the United States, but you can’t do it in public, because that could be offensive! Are you confused yet?

Read more

‘I’d receive 200 messages threatening rape every day’: Online abuse of women laid bare in new report

In another pathetic non-controversy, Wellesley College students started an online petition to have a statue of a sleepwalking man in underwear removed from their campus. The statue was part of an art exhibition. Within hours of its placement, the petition read, the sculpture had become “a source of undue stress” which caused “apprehension, fear, and triggering thoughts” for students who had experienced sexual harassment at the hands of men — although presumably not at the hands of scantily clad art installations.

Then there’s this guy, who thinks climate change deniers should be arrested. Or this guy, who thinks classic literature like The Great Gatsby or Mrs Dalloway should be marked with “trigger warnings” lest any fragile-minded student come across a passage which might upset their sensibilities. Professors should also “warn” their students, he says, about which passages in a novel may possess “triggering material” and which passages are “safer to read”.

Back in the real world, the average person will read a book’s blurb, decide if it sounds appealing to them, dig in, and then, if they happen to get offended somewhere along the way, they stop reading. It’s a simple process which doesn’t require trigger warnings or the implementation of new reading methods.

The potential for any comment to erupt into a firestorm of controversy is so worrying to today’s authors that hiring “sensitivity readers” in advance of publication has become commonplace. A sensitivity reader provides “feedback on issues like race, religion, gender, sexuality, chronic illness and physical disabilities”. Critics of sensitivity reading say that it could lead to “sanitized books that tiptoe around difficult topics”. It’s not hard to see how that could happen.

The tolerance police are afraid of the very concepts which they claim to hold so dear — like freedom of speech, choice and democracy itself. It doesn’t matter to them what anyone else feels or believes. Only their version of reality counts and only their moral compass is the correct one.

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Teen girl’s ‘sexting’ prosecuted as felony child porn, ACLU fights charges

I recently came across a phrase I had somehow missed until now: No-platforming. It is the practice of banning certain groups from even taking part in a debate if certain cohorts find their views to be offensive. Take, for example, the fact that pro-life women were excluded from the Women’s March in Washington, D.C., last year because their particular views on one issue didn’t line up with the majority.

You’ll have noticed by now, that the running theme in all of these stories is not tolerance, but intolerance. This overly politically correct culture of ours is churning out young adults who have been cocooned and coddled in safe spaces, who have had literature fed to them with trigger warnings, who can’t handle moral or political disagreements without throwing hissy fits, who are more comfortable organizing protests against free speech than fighting for it and who have no idea how to live and let live. They’ve been taught that their right to be offended and have the world fall in line trumps everyone else’s right to speak or to hold an opinion.

It’s no wonder that something as simple as a Halloween costume or a sculpture can send them into meltdown mode. The irony is, while the tolerance police are alienating well-meaning people by going after janitors for reading history books, protesting statues and campaigning for trigger warnings on books, the genuinely mean-spirited, overtly homophobic and racist people aren’t getting any nicer.

It’s almost like this over-the-top, aggressive implementation of the tolerance doctrine isn’t really making the world a more tolerant place at all.

The Intolerant Tolerance Police was originally published on Graham Campbell