#jones county

[redpanther23]

Cover of the Cure from back at the Haunted Mansion (when it was no longer a bando.) Filmed in the Altered State of Jones

[autotrails]

American Auto Trail-Albany to Bronco Highway (Albany to Stamford TX)

American Auto Trail-Albany to Bronco Highway (Albany to Stamford TX) https://youtu.be/KJU5Mb512BE This American auto trail explores the route of the Albany-Bronco Highway, one of the early Texas State Highways, from Albany to Stamford.

[conandaily2022]

What Myrick, Mississippi's Denise Frazier did to German shepherd

Denise Nicole Frazier, 19, of Myrick, Jones County, Mississippi, United States had a sexual intercourse with a German shepherd in Myrick in February 2023. She took a video of the act and posted it on SnapChat.

[lynningalsbeatty]

Outside of the office of criminal defense attorney Lynn Ingalsbe:

1065 S 3rd St

Abilene, TX 79602

(325) 677-8384

https://www.lynningalsbe.com/

[starblaster]

Today, an associate of mine from the Prairielands Freedom Fund informed me that a defendant they've been working with was, yesterday, unjustly sentenced to 5 years in prison. He should have received a deferred judgement. Brandon Jones is a black man and he has 3 children.

I don't normally make posts like this, but I want to share this here in the hopes that it will have further reach. Brandon Jones is a member of my community and he does not deserve to be ripped away from his family like this.

Here is a statement from my friends at Prairielands Freedom Fund:

Pictured above from left to right are Brandon Jones, his three children, and his partner, Lily Lindle, at Wilson's Orchard in Iowa City.

On March 25, 2024, "District Court judge sentenced PFF participant Brandon Jones, a Black father, to a five-year prison sentence. We posted bond for Brandon in January after he had pleaded guilty but couldn’t pay his bond. He spent two months in Johnson County Jail, a particularly cruel separation where he was apart from his newborn baby over the holidays.

Brandon’s case is emblematic of the cruel, racist punishments inflicted upon Black folks in our carceral system. Separating Brandon from his family inflicts a layer of violence upon their lives — and it does not do anything for public safety.

We’re committed to rallying behind Jones’ family and his partner Lily, and the best way we can support them right now is with financial support. Lily is now a sole provider — it’s crucial that she gets the economic support she needs.

In September 2023, Brandon’s 8-year old son was suspended and told to walk home, alone and in the cold, from an Iowa City School District elementary school. Brandon went to the school to speak with the principal about the situation. Accidentally bringing his legal firearm with him into the school, Brandon was arrested, charged, and held on a $30,000 cash-only bond.

School staff claim they were threatened by Brandon’s presence in the school, and prosecutors jumped at the chance to make an example out of Brandon. Prosecutors claim this case is about public safety — and yet, their target is a Black father who showed up to his son’s school to advocate for his family. This situation starts and ends with racism. We know our district suspends and expels Black children at higher rates. And the reaction from school staff cannot be extricated from Brandon’s existence as a Black man, advocating for his son, a Black student who was suspended.

Brandon took full accountability for his mistake, as evidenced by his guilty plea. His legal team asked the judge to simply give him probation, allowing him to continue caring for his young family. But today, Brandon was sentenced to five years behind bars.

Brandon’s situation so perfectly epitomizes why abolition matters. Abolitionist principles urge us to think expansively about what safety means. By separating Brandon from his family, they are all less safe — especially when considering economic and emotional safety.

[This] outcome was not what we wanted, but we remain committed to supporting this family, and creating a better system than the one they were victimized by today."

Lily Lindle has started a GoFundMe so that she can receive some assistance with raising and caring for the Jones kids: https://www.gofundme.com/f/support-the-jones-family-in-iowa-city

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Tessa Stuart at Rolling Stone:

KRISTA HARDING’S DAUGHTER was eight weeks old when that police cruiser pulled behind her on the interstate and hit the lights in September 2019. She called her boss at the Little Caesars in Pinson, Alabama, where she’d just been promoted to manager: I’m going to be a little late, but I’m coming in! Don’t panic. Harding’s registration tag was expired. She figured the officer would write her a ticket and she’d be on her way, but when he came back after running her driver’s license, he had handcuffs out. There was a felony warrant out for her arrest, he said: “Chemical endangerment of a child.” Harding used her most patient customer-service tone to ask the officer if he’d please check again. But there was no mistake, the cop confirmed: He was taking her to the Etowah County Detention Center, almost an hour’s drive away. “I’m in the back of the cop car just bawling my eyes out, like, ugly-face-snot-bubbles crying,” Harding remembers. She was worried about being away from her newborn, and she was confused: Chemical endangerment of a child? “I think of somebody cooking meth with a baby on their hip,” she says. 

She’s right to think that: The Alabama law, passed in 2006, was intended to target those who expose children to toxic chemicals, or worse, explosions, while manufacturing methamphetamine in ad-hoc home labs.  Harding says it took at least eight hours to be booked into a cell that night, and it was more than a week before she was finally allowed to see a judge. She was still leaking breast milk, and desperately missing her two daughters. Her family wasn’t allowed to bring her clean underwear, so every day she washed her one pair, saturated with menstrual blood, in the cell sink, then hung them to dry.

Harding says she eventually learned the warrant for her arrest had been issued because of a urine test taken at a doctor’s visit early in her pregnancy. Sitting alone in her cell, she conjured a vague memory of her OB-GYN warning her local authorities had begun to crack down on weed. The comment had struck her as odd at the time: Nine years earlier, when she was pregnant with her first child, the same doctor at the same hospital had told Harding, who’d smoked both pot and cigarettes before she was pregnant, that she’d rather Harding kick the nicotine than the weed. (Studies are unequivocal about the fact that cigarettes contribute to adverse pregnancy outcomes, but the research on weed is less conclusive, with some doctors arguing it at least has therapeutic benefits, like helping with morning sickness.)

But in the years between her first child and her second, something had changed in certain parts of Alabama. In Etowah County, in 2013, the sheriff, the district attorney, and the head of the local child-welfare agency held a press conference to announce they intended to aggressively enforce that 2006 law. Instead of going after the manufacturers of meth, though, they planned to target pregnant women who used virtually any substance they deemed harmful to a developing fetus.

“If a baby is born with a controlled-substance dependency, the mother is going to jail,” then-Sheriff Todd Entrekin said at the time. Police weren’t required to establish that a child was born with a chemical dependency, though — or even that a fetus experienced any harm — a drug test, a confession, or just an accusation of substance use during pregnancy was enough to arrest women for a first offense that carries a maximum sentence of 10 years. One public defender would later call these “unwinnable cases.” Over the following decade, Etowah County imprisoned hundreds of mothers — some of whom were detained, before trial, for the rest of their pregnancies, inside one of the most brutal and inhumane prisons in the country, denied access to prenatal care and adequate nutrition, they say — in the name of protecting their children from harm. 

[...]

In the past two decades, Alabama has become the undisputed champion of arresting pregnant women for actions that wouldn’t be considered crimes if they weren’t pregnant: 649 arrests between 2006 and 2022, almost as many arrests as documented in all other states combined, according to advocacy group Pregnancy Justice, which collected the statistics. Across the U.S., the vast majority of women arrested on these charges were too poor to afford a lawyer, and a quarter of cases were based on the use of a legal substance, like prescription medication.

Today, Marshall is the attorney general of Alabama, and just a few months ago, the state’s Supreme Court used the same logic — that life begins at conception, therefore an embryo is legally indistinguishable from a living child — in a decision that was responsible for shutting down IVF clinics across the state. The ruling was a triumph for the fetal-personhood movement, a nationwide crusade to endow fertilized eggs, embryos, and fetuses with constitutional rights. Personhood has been the Holy Grail for the anti-abortion movement since Roe v. Wade was decided in 1973, but outlawing abortion — at any stage of pregnancy, for any reason — is just the start of what legal recognition of embryos’ rights could mean for anyone who can get pregnant. Experts have long warned that elevating an embryo’s legal status effectively strips the person whose body that embryo occupies of her own rights the moment she becomes pregnant.

Across the country, this theory has led to situations like in Texas, where a hospital kept a brain-dead woman alive for almost two months — against her own advanced directive and the wishes of her family — in deference to a state law that prevents doctors from removing a pregnant person from life support. (The hospital only relented after the woman’s husband sued for “cruel and obscene mutilation of a corpse.”) Or in New Hampshire, where a court allowed a woman who was hit by a car while seven months pregnant to be sued by her future child for negligence because she failed to use “a designated crosswalk.” Or in Washington, D.C., where a terminally ill cancer patient, 26 weeks pregnant, requested palliative care, but was instead subjected to court-ordered cesarean section. Her baby survived for just two hours; she died two days later.

Or in Alabama, where, in 2019, Marshae Jones walked into the Pleasant Grove Police Department with her six-year-old daughter expecting to be interviewed for a police investigation. Months earlier, Jones, four and a half months pregnant at the time, had been shot by her co-worker during a dispute. In the hospital after the shooting, Jones underwent an emergency C-section; her baby, whom she’d named Malaysia, did not survive. Rather than indicting the shooter, though, a grand jury indicted Jones, who they decided “intentionally” caused the death of her “unborn baby” because she allegedly picked a fight “knowing she was five months pregnant.” The charges were ultimately dismissed, but Jones’ lawyer says her record still shows the arrest, and Jones, who lost her job after the incident, struggled to find work after her case attracted national attention.

The threat this ideology poses to American women is not contained to Alabama: Recognition of fetal personhood is an explicit policy goal of the national Republican Party, and it has been since the 1980s. The GOP platform calls for amending the U.S. Constitution to recognize the rights of embryos, and representatives in Congress have introduced legislation that would recognize life begins at conception hundreds of times — as recently as this current session, when the Life at Conception Act attracted the co-sponsorship of 127 sitting Republican members of Congress.

[...]

Taking inspiration from Black Americans’ fight for equal rights, the anti-abortion movement began thinking of its own crusade as a fight for equality. “The argument that the unborn was the ultimate victim of discrimination in America was really resonant with a lot of white Americans, a lot of socially conservative Americans — and it was vague enough that people who disagreed about stuff like feminism, the welfare state, children born outside of marriage, the Civil Rights Movement” could find common ground, Ziegler says.  By the time the Supreme Court ruled on Roe v. Wade in 1973, the idea that a fetus was entitled to constitutional protections was mainstream enough to be a central piece of Texas’ argument that “Jane Roe” did not have a right to get an abortion.  

The justices rejected that idea. “The word ‘person,’ as used in the Fourteenth Amendment, does not include the unborn,” Justice Harry Blackmun wrote. But he gave the movement a cause to rally behind for the next half-century by adding: “If this suggestion of personhood is established, [Roe’s] case, of course, collapses, for the fetus’ right to life would then be guaranteed specifically by the Amendment.”  Making that happen became the anti-abortion movement’s primary focus from that moment on. One week after Roe was decided, a U.S. congressman first proposed amending the Constitution to guarantee “the right to life to the unborn, the ill, the aged, or the incapacitated.” It was called the Human Life Amendment, and though it failed to make it to a floor vote that session, it would be reproposed more than 300 times in the following decades.  By 1980, the idea had been fully embraced by the Republican Party: Ronald Reagan’s GOP adopted it into the party platform — where it remains to this day — and in 1983, the Republican-majority Congress voted, for the first and only time, on the idea of adding a personhood amendment to the U.S. Constitution. That vote failed. 

After their 1983 defeat, activists turned their attention away from the U.S. Capitol and toward the states, where they sought to insert the idea of fetal personhood into as many state laws as possible: everything from legislation creating tax deductions for fetuses or declaring them people for census-taking purposes, to expanding child-endangerment and -neglect laws.  Activists pursued this agenda everywhere, but they were most successful at advancing it in states that share certain qualities. “You could draw a Venn diagram of American slavery and see that what’s happening today is in common in those states,” says Michele Goodwin, a Georgetown University law professor and author of the book Policing the Womb. “Some would say, ‘Well, OK, how is that relevant?’ Slavery itself was explicitly about denying personal autonomy, denying the humanity of Black people. Now, clearly, these laws affect women of all ethnicities. But the point is: If you’re in a constitutional democracy and you found a way to avoid recognizing the constitutional humanity of a particular group of people, it’s something that’s not lost in the muscle memory of those who legislate and of the courts in that state.”

Rolling Stone has a solid in-depth report on the war on women and reproductive health in Alabama, going into detail the fetal personhood movement.

[tweltchy]

fast and scribbly doodles of a pretty fucked up guy :V

[letterboxd-loggd]

The Last Stop in Yuma County (2023) Francis Galluppi

May 18th 2024

[grimbunnies]

Nicole: "I try to look on the bright side, but it's hard. I just resent being stuck with her so much..."

Ripp: "I get it, trust me."

Ripp: She's cute but... huh...

[bughead-in-the-comics]

From The County Fair, Betty #10 (1993).

[dontmeantobepoliticalbut]

A second Tennessee House Democrat has been reinstated after Republicans expelled him for protesting with gun control advocates.

The Shelby County Board of Commissioners voted 7-0 Wednesday to reinstate state Rep. Justin Pearson, who days before was expelled by the GOP supermajority for joining protesters ― many of them children ― who chanted in the House chamber in support of gun control following a school shooting that left three kids and three adults dead last month.

Following his reinstatement, a packed crowd inside the County Administration Building erupted in cheers and applause. In a speech following his reinstatement, Pearson said it was time to get back to work.

“You can’t expel our voice, and you sure can’t expel our fight,” he told the crowd.

“Let’s get back to work!” he shouted, to loud cheers.

Pearson and fellow Democratic state Rep. Justin Jones were expelled for protesting on March 30 in the House chamber, which Republican lawmakers called “disorderly behavior” that “brought dishonor to the House of Representatives.” A third lawmaker who joined in protesting for gun control, Democratic Rep. Gloria Johnson, was spared expulsion by a single vote.

Pearson and Jones are Black; Johnson is white. Both Jones and Johnson joined Pearson in his march Wednesday to the County Administration Building.

“I’m so glad Memphis did what was right,” Johnson told local station WREG after the vote. “I’m just absolutely thrilled.”

“Justice was done today,” she added.

Pearson represents part of Memphis, which is in Shelby County. Mickell Lowery, Chairman of the Shelby County Board of Commissioners, said in a statement Sunday that the expulsion of Pearson “was conducted in a hasty manner.”

“The protests at the State Capitol by citizens recently impacted by the senseless deaths of three 9-year-old children and three adults entrusted with their care at their school was understandable given the fact that the gun laws in the State of Tennessee are becoming nearly non-existent,” Lowery said.

“It is equally understandable that the leadership of the State House of Representatives felt a strong message had to be sent to those who transgressed the rules,” Lowery continued. “However, I believe the expulsion of State Representative Justin Pearson was conducted in a hasty manner without consideration of other corrective action methods. I also believe that the ramifications for our great State are still yet to be seen.”

Jones, who represents part of Nashville, was voted back into office on Monday by the Nashville Metropolitan Council in a vote of 36-0. Nashville Mayor John Cooper (D) said it was about giving voters their “voice back.”

“Voters in District 52 elected Justin Jones to be their voice at the statehouse, and that voice was taken away this past week,” Cooper said during the meeting to reinstate Jones. “So let’s give them their voice back. I call on this body to vote unanimously, right now, to do just that.”

Along with the two lawmakers being reinstated this week, another surprising victory emerged: On Tuesday, Republican Gov. Bill Lee signed an executive order to tighten background checks and called on the state legislature to pass a “red flag” law that would make it easier to remove guns from people who pose a danger to themselves or others.

During his expulsion hearing, Pearson reminded lawmakers that the U.S. was founded on protest.

“You who celebrate July 4, 1776, pop fireworks and eat hot dogs ― you say to protest is wrong because you spoke out of turn, because you spoke up for people who are marginalized, because you spoke up for kids who won’t ever speak again ... in a country built on people who speak out of turn,” he said.

[dragonfang-photography]

These ones I do know! Turkey-tail mushrooms (Trametes versicolor) are very distinct.

[spockvarietyhour]

Welcome home back to the scene of the crime, Morgan.

[i-am-the-balancing-point]

Letter to the Deceased

I wish you were cold when we found you. Instead you were just you, eyes closed, but with an iron cross through your chest. You were still warm though. Still dressed and put together, like you'd pop up and start talking again. Until you, the only body I'd ever seen was in a coffin, cold as leftovers. If you were cold it would have been easier.

A note, found in the Holland Valley region of Hope County. ❇︎ Notes of Hope County

[gleedreamcasts]

The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee

requested by anon

Rachel Berry as Rona Lisa Peretti

Artie Abrams as Vice Principal Douglas Panch

Unique Adams as Mitch Mahoney

Mercedes Jones as Olive Ostrovsky

Kurt Hummel as William Morris Barfée

Kitty Wilde as Logainne SchwartzandGrubenierre

Tina Cohen-Chang as Marcy Park

Sam Evans as Leaf Coneybear

Blaine Anderson as Chip Tolentino

[sillyboysmackdown]

ROUND ONE: Leaf Coneybear (25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee) vs. Casey Jones (Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles)