#kids media has always been inexplicably violent

[rosengeist]

I’ve been reading the Nutcracker this Christmas, both the OG Hoffmann, and the Dumas translation the ballet is based on.

Lets be clear, until this point it’s been hella cutesy, and shit just got hilariously violent. Its so bad the heroine passes out. Her parents response is just “well you did stay up late, so…maybe you deserved the trauma.”

Also the “like the spartan” reference is a folk tale about a Spartan youth who hid a fox near his stomach, and then it disemboweled him as he tried to keep it hidden, and its like a big honor tale.

Nutcracker is hilariously violent.

[alesyira]

don't look

cool cool cool - so i'm thinking last night's post 'the call' will work amazing as a second chapter to 'glitch', and this posting 'don't look' will work great for a third (and final) chapter after that! this way, all the super-relevant stuff is tucked together, and I don't feel weird about posting two tiny oneshots that rely really heavily on the associated text to make sense (and now i don't have to come up with fun titles, summaries, tagging, etc).

Anyways, I added a smidge to 'the call' that will be going on ao3 (might update it here too if I think about it) and will be doing final checks on it later today to add to ao3, and this one will probably end up posted sometime tomorrow. :) :)

let's see...

TW: violence / death / horror elements

There are several screens playing the footage from that day. 

Mirio glances around at the others standing around the media lab, noting arms crossed over chests, tapping feet, shifting stances. 

A few shoot nervous glances in his direction, immediately looking away when they notice him watching. 

They’ve been over this content a hundred times already, but this is the earliest they could get him in to try and explain what the heck had happened. He’d been confined under strict medical care for the last few days after rescue teams managed to pull him free from the rubble. (From the way the doctors and his mentors behaved, he figures he’d been damned lucky to survive.)  

His memory is a little (a lot) fuzzy.

He has some vague recollection of strange (horrible) sounds and inexplicable (nightmarish) sights, but they make no sense.

Everyone’s hoping that seeing the events might jar some important details loose and help get a lead on the person(s) responsible for the tragedy.

He swallows back a lump in his throat at the sight of the still-intact hero agency lobby. Aizawa escorts a small group of students from the elevator bank, stopping briefly by the front desk to exchange words with the sidekick on duty. Everything inside the lobby looks like it always does. Aizawa leans beyond the counter to toss some trash into the wastebasket and then waves at the students to head toward the door. 

Three other screens show slightly grainy footage of the streets immediately around the agency. He can see someone with average height and slim build approaching the agency from down the block. 

He guesses it’s a teenager, possibly male with their hair length and the style of clothing, but he can’t be sure.

Mirio can see himself coming around the corner, and then the teen pauses and lifts a hand as though to wave like so many other civilians he sees on a daily basis. 

It’s clear that they want to greet him like a regular hero fan, but something makes them hesitate, and they don’t. 

The hand drops.

A flash of light flares unbelievably bright, briefly whiting out the video feeds closest to the street. The heroes and students still visible on the other cameras pause what they’re doing, warily looking out the front window.

He swallows back a wave of nausea. 

This footage is the last time several of those people were seen alive. 

Mirio turns his attention back to the teen.

What had they done? Did they cause the flash of light? 

The footage is only clear enough to tell they have dark-colored hair, possibly green, but the way the kid stands there as Mirio goes in, staring like they’re waiting for something to happen? 

It's highly suspicious.

The kid steps away from the wall toward the agency, their hands moving in front of them in an awkward, nervous manner. 

In the next instant, the glass explodes outwards as the camera feeds violently shudder, a few screens briefly blacking out before flickering back into view. 

The kid stumbles backward. 

The side view of the agency’s interior shows heroes being knocked off their feet from a backlash of energy.

He stares with horror at a black mass that erupts where he's standing. 

Did it come from the floor? 

It looks like it’s touching him, beside him and all around him.

There's a subtle whisper in the back of his mind, but he resolutely ignores it. The whispering has been there for a while now, tickling at his thoughts just before he'd been woken from his medically induced coma. 

Recovery Girl and All Might both suspect that he suffered some brain injuries when the building had collapsed around him.

His mouth goes dry as he stares at the ensuing violence. The mass whips around the room, flashing in and out of sight. More weird black things appear, but they’ve extended across the street toward -or from- the kid. He sees himself buckle, hands clutched to his head. 

A hero rushes to his side with an outstretched hand.

He doesn't remember their name, but he vaguely recognizes the color of their costume. It had been a hero from another region, visiting that week as one of the student’s mentors. 

It looks like they may have been trying to help him, but in the video, Mirio’s right arm flashes out to backhand the unknown person.

The video feed here flickers out, briefly, but does little to hide the way their upper body collapses under the force of the impact. 

Their scream is nothing more than a garbled choke in the staticky audio file, and the only sound after that is the meaty, wet thump when they collide with a nearby wall, their body sliding down the cracked plaster in a streak of vibrant red.

The video feed pauses.

A warm hand gently closes over his shoulder. 

He can’t help the way he flinches in on himself. 

There’s a subtle tremor vibrating through his fingers as he tenderly touches the back of his right hand. The joints are sore, and the skin is still mottled in shades of yellow. Such a tiny indication that he’d- 

“Sorry. You, ah, don’t have to watch any more of this. We just need you to listen to what we think you’re saying next.”

We think?

He’s seen a lot of stuff in his years of training. This can’t be much worse, right? 

A sickening feeling in his gut tells him he should probably take heed and look away for the remainder. 

He ignores it. 

Swallowing back another lump in his throat, he blinks away the moisture that’s threatening. “No, I need to see what happened.”

“My boy, you really should reconsider. It’s not something you’ll want on your conscience.”

Mirio shakes his head. This statement cements the fact that he has to know, especially if he is somehow responsible. 

He regrets watching. 

The writhing black only stops for a brief moment under Aizawa’s harsh glare, but his frantic gesturing to get the students to evacuate is fruitless, and he turns away for a split second to shout at the kids to flee.

More black flares wildly, overlaid with garbled screams of disjointed rage. 

He can almost make out some of the phrases he hears, but too many voices are speakingshoutingcrying at the same time for him to be certain. 

The video feeds flicker frequently, now, on most of the cameras that are pointing into the lobby, but the ones that are blacked out are covered by other angles that still work, so few details can be missed.  

Frenetic, flailing streams of black rip ceiling tiles loose and heft steel furniture like they’re nothing. A concrete support pillar is smashed into chunks of rubble and rebar. Debris is whipped at at any bystander that makes a move toward him. 

Aizawa is clipped in the thigh and he tumbles to the ground. 

Two students behind him lurch forward in protective stances, but they fare no better. 

(He doesn’t bother to blink away the tears that well and drip down his cheeks.)

The visuals are briefly fried yellow by huge arcs of lightning that seem to bounce across his shoulders. Had he been struck by broken wiring?

A chill creeps over his neck and the incomprehensible whispering in his mind briefly grows louder as he spots a crowd of misty shapes standing around the lobby. 

They flicker in and out of existence like faulty holograms. 

Beings from another dimension. 

Ghosts.

There’s a sudden bright white flash of fire, and the sound of explosions echo loudly through the camera feeds that aren’t immediately knocked offline. 

Mirio thinks it may have come from one of the students, but the blast is too large. 

When the cameras recover from the overload of light, they can barely make out charred and smoking figures littering the floor. Some of the hero and student costumes had been designed to withstand explosive force and extreme heat, and those lucky few are stumbling back to their feet.

One of the remaining camera views tilts sideways. 

Another’s feed is blocked by a shower of dust before a chunk of rubble blocks the view. 

Videos black out in rapid succession, then, leaving only a few online to witness the final moments of the building’s collapse. That anyone made it out of that wreckage, alive, is astounding.

His mouth is bone dry. 

He was at the center of the chaos. 

He should be dead.

In all, mere minutes pass after the first hero had been crushed beneath the power of his fist.

(Had he done these things? How? Why?)

He wants to cycle back to see it again, to find the lie with his own two eyes. 

They don't stop him as he scrubs the video feed back one minute to look for details that might explain, and then again. 

And again. 

Nothing he can see will ever explain what he’s witnessing on the screen. 

Nothing will make sense of the angry distorted sounds echoing through the audio feed.

He sinks back into his seat with a sick sort of relief. 

He couldn’t have done these things. 

It had to have been some hidden villain raining havoc upon them without warning. Several villains, in fact. 

He’s seen worse. (He hasn’t seen worse.) 

But that doesn’t make this any better.

It’s a terrible thing to witness death and destruction of this magnitude, but the audio is even more horrifying. 

Mixed with shrieks of agony and those choking, rattling final breaths, an otherworldly chorus of humming voices can be heard on a few of the feeds, right up until the sound of crashing rubble drowns out the pain and misery of death.

He lets the camera feed pause then, half in darkness, others with billows of dust frozen on the screens. Silence descends upon the somber crowd. 

A technician at the desk by the wall speaks up. “We ah, isolated some of the clearer audio and ran it through some software to split it out.” They pause for a second. Mirio can see the pale flash of a hand as they tug at their collar, making a clear effort to not look in his direction. 

(Are they afraid of him?) 

The technician clears their throat. “It’s a little better like this, but doesn’t make a lot of sense. We have some guesses, but your input will help.”

He doesn’t remember hearing any voices, but he also doesn’t remember experiencing most of what he’s just watched.

“Sure,” he murmurs. He presses his face into his hands and waits to listen to whatever horrific bit they have for him. What can he do aside from watch, listen, and suffer under the unknowns surrounding this horrific tragedy? 

He swallows. 

The first clip crackles with static. A few voices, or one with an odd trilling quality, chants a single sound over and over again. 

He could lie. Say it sounds like sour. Or hours. 

But the vague whispering in his mind clearly hisses the correct word. 

His ears ring in the ensuing silence. 

He realizes that something is very wrong with him.

“It-” His voice cracks. He hopes the shivering in his limbs can’t be seen by anyone standing nearby. “I think it’s saying ours. Ownership over something.”

Another person speaks up. Mirio hates that this feels like some kind of interrogation. “Any thoughts on what it might be referencing?”

Mirio shakes his head, resolutely ignoring the sudden chittering in his skull. 

He presses his palms into his eye sockets with more force, trying to stem the fresh wave of terror sweeping through him. 

“The other part we couldn’t isolate very well, but— well. Here.” 

A quick click, then more staticky sound thrums from the speakers. 

It takes him a moment to understand any of it, so they play the clip on repeat while they wait for his answer.

His eyeballs creak in his skull as he turns his head, very slowly, to look at his mentor standing a few feet to the right. Toshinori stares right back, with no indication whether he should or shouldn’t speak up.

one for all for one 

The phrase is a blur of sound, but his familiarity with the name of the quirk he’d been given helps him figure out what it’s saying. 

The rest is unrecognizable, a hiss of sound threaded along with the rest of it, and he cannot pick out the individual words as they meld together, repeating, insistent.

The whispering in his mind has no problem clearing it right up: 

Him for us. 

Us for him.

Mirio presses his lips together and slowly stands up. “We… might have a problem.”

[closetofanxiety]

Beyond Wrestling: Americanrana 18

I got home after 1 a.m. today and woke up at 6 a.m. Then it was a full day of home improvement stuff. I’m tired. I’ve got ice on my bad foot. But I have some thoughts and impressions about the hottest US independent wrestling show of, uh, the month of July, at least. 

Big crowd: This was Beyond’s biggest live gate of all time, and at the same time the most-watched live stream in the young life of Powerbomb TV, AND the single event responsible for more new subscribers than anything else they’ve shown so far. At the venue, a Polish-American club in Worcester with oil paintings of the Old Country on the walls, people were berserk for almost everything that happened during the night. I don’t know how it came across on TV (or whatever, screen, I’m talking about watching it on a screen), but people were loud and excitable. Dan Barry got the biggest reaction Dan Barry has possibly ever had. People reacted to the surprise appearance of Anthony Green  like he was Mike Bailey, and they reacted to the surprise appearance of Mike Quackenbush like he was Steve Austin. It’s so much fun to be with a crowd of people who are just going nuts for professional wrestling.

Final appearance: Matt Riddle had what is almost certainly his last-ever Beyond Wrestling match, getting pinned by Nick Fuckin Gage during a tag match that pitted Gage and Matt Tremont (the New H8 Club) against Riddle and Filthy Tom Lawlor. It’s wild to think that a year ago he was putting his undefeated streak on the line in the main event at Americanrana 17, and this year he was in a mid-card tag match where he ate a pin. He’s headed for big things, though. Gage is great as the fan favorite, thanking people for willing him onto victory, and looking genuinely delighted when he got the pin. Awkward moment: the crowd, excited at the announcement that the winning team was now called “the New H8 Club,” started chanting “C-Z-Dub! C-Z-Dub!” despite Gage having gone over to bitter rivals GCW and Tremont wrestling his final CZW match on Saturday night. Just chant “Nick Fuckin Gage! Nick Fuckin Gage!” Speaking of which ...

Working blue: This was the sweariest Beyond Wrestling show I can remember for some time. They had pregame interviewers with Wrestling Social Media Personality Alicia Atout in front of a fancy Beyond/Powerbomb backdrop, and Janela and ring announcer Rich Palladino, of all people, kept using the word “fuck” like a comma. Kids in the room, gentlemen! 

Unpopular Opinion #1: I like intergender wrestling a lot, but in order for it to become a normal part of pro wrestling, promotions and wrestlers have to stop loudly drawing attention to the fact that THEY AREN’T AFRAID TO HAVE INTERGENDER WRESTLING, DAMN IT. The opening match on the show was a terrifically fun four-on-four pitting Team Pazuzu against “Team WWR”: Kimber Lee, Jordynne Grace, Mia Yim, and Skylar. It was fun and crazy, as you’d expect from that cast of characters, and Skylar did a good job of keeping up with wrestlers who are much more experienced and established than she is. But then after the match, Chris Dickinson cut a promo about how HE RESPECTS THESE GIRLS SO GODDAMN MUCH AND INTERGENDER WRESTLING IS HERE TO STAY. Good! I like that! But the more you act like it’s some remarkable anomaly, the more people are going to treat it like that. It’s just another variety of match, like tag team wrestling.

Oh, also: There was a GREAT moment in the match where Dickinson was about to give Jordynne Grace a Pazuzu Bomb, but she was saved by Kimber Lee, who then stared Dickinson down. This was a callback to the spot in Beyond years ago where Dickinson waffled Lee with a chair and then hit her with a crazy Pazuzu Bomb in a clip that went viral and gave both of them some not-entirely-wanted exposure to the wider world. The crowd, happily, recognized this immediately and went APESHIT. I loved it!

Loco spotfests: There was an announced four-way tag match with Team Tremendous, the Gentlemen’s Club, the Beaver Boys, and the recently renamed Massage Force. There was also an unannounced Chikara showcase, with Solo Darling, Fire Ant, someone working a “Dasher Hatfield’s kid” gimmick, and Quack himself against a Dungeon of Doom-esque cast of characters. Also Travis Huckabee. I honestly groaned when I heard “Chikara showcase,” but they tore down the house. Quackenbush may be a guy who talks like Darril and wants to turn wrestling into TED Talk fodder, but he’s one of the most important US indie wrestlers of all time, and I had never seen him wrestle in person before. At one point, a sea creature or maybe the Gimp or someone picked Quackenbush up by his feet and heaved him backwards over the rope, and he sailed higher and farther than any person I’ve ever seen launched out of a wrestling ring. It was just a hugely fun match, and the four-way tag managed to top it. There was no “storytelling” or “psychology” in either match, and honestly, that’s fine for a big-spectacle show like Americanrana. Just have a bunch of talented people come out and do stuff they don’t normally do in a show, and go wild.

The plot thickens: The big news from the four-way tag is Dan Barry’s betrayal of beloved partner Bill Carr (there was a loud, enthusiastic chant of “Bill Carr fucks! Bill Carr fucks!” after the big man launched himself through the ropes. “Oh my God, I love it! I love it, you guys!” he yelled back. He is like a big happy golden retriever and it’s impossible to think negatively about him). Betrayals don’t always work on the indie level, and I’ve seen my share of partners turning on partners that are greeted with shrugs by the crowd, but people went NUTS after Barry screwed over Carr. A louder, more sustained negative reaction than I’ve ever heard in Beyond. Should be a hot feud! In further plot twists, MJF was injured and couldn’t wrestle Gresham in their blowoff, so Trent was drafted as a surprise Dream Team member. The match ended in a DQ and Gresham roughed up Stokely Hathaway while MFJ watched helplessly from the outside. THIS SETTLED NOTHING. Presumably. 

Unpopular Opinion #2: I think PCO’s run as the TV veteran who has inexplicably become an indie darling is nearing its conclusion. I also think that run does not sit as well on PCO’s shoulders as it would Gangrel. It should be Gangrel out there, getting the big paydays and the crazy receptions from crowds. PCO does not have a lot in his toolbox, if I’m being honest. He had a sloppy, overlong match with Brian Cage that was full of blown spots and awkward pauses. Let’s all focus on Gangrel from now on. 

A new favorite: I’ve done a total 180 on “Hot Sauce” Tracy Williams, who used to bore me to distraction. I really like him now. I think it’s because I’ve heard him on commentary a bunch, and he reminds me of friends who lived in squats and punk houses in the 1990s but who now live in Brooklyn and have respectable jobs in the low six figures, but who are still capable of smashing a bottle in the face of a Nazi skinhead. 

Mayhem: What can I say about the main event, a no-ropes barbed wire death match between David Starr and Joey Janela, to settle a feud that’s been simmering on and off for years? It was extremely violent and bloody. It lasted 22 minutes but felt like 10. Starr won, and cut an absolutely searing promo afterward, calling Janela “a glorified stuntman” who only came to prominence because someone else made goofy Internet videos about him; seriously, it’s one of the best promos I’ve heard an indie wrestler give. Bile and bitterness from a man covered in his own blood; there would be no Triple H Handshake of Respect between these two gladiators.

Grace notes: This was the most efficiently run Americanrana I’ve ever attended. The doors were supposed to open at 6:30, and they opened EARLY. An indie show! This was good, but it trapped one of my friends outside, because he had gone to a bar, assuming it would take forever to get inside the building. I mean, he made it in eventually, he just had to wait at the back of the line ... There was a nice shoutout to Dominki Dijakovicokowiczogonov, gone but not forgotten from Beyond: during his match with AR Fox, Anthony Greene did the Feast Your Eyes and hit Dijakulakovich’s poses while the crowd chanted “Feast Your Eyes! Feast Your Eyes!” ... Chuck Taylor hit a Rainmaker during the four-way tag match and screamed “This one’s for you, Little Kazu!,” which is a reference to an ongoing Twitter joke that I’m almost ashamed to have recognized ... I bought a hat from David Starr and we talked about the need for national healthcare, which is a conversation topic that wouldn’t work with most wrestlers .... I don’t know why or how they do it, but Americanrana really feels special. Everyone seems to raise their game for the show, and the fans are really in a holiday mood. It’s not a show I ever want to miss ... The crowd went from skepticism over the Chikara wrestlers - one guy grunted, “Fuckin’ Vince Russo gimmicks” when the bad guys came out - to joyous acceptance, capped when the same guy yelled at the sea monster character, “Look at this big green bastard! How’s he able to breathe on land?” ... One of my favorite parts of the day was sitting in the bar downstairs while they broke down the ring and set up the barbed wire. Just seeing a bunch of the wrestlers relaxing and enjoying themselves, having a (non-alcoholic) drink with my friend Mike, enjoying the air conditioning on a summer night: this was a good night ... after the show, we stopped at a service plaza on the Masss Pike to get some unhealthy snacks and use the bathroom, and on our way in we passed Solo Darling. “Great match tonight,” we said. “Thank you!” she said. On our way out, we passed a much less happy Solo Darling as she walked over to the counter to give the McDonald’s people hell. “I distinctly said no cheese on ...” she began, as we hurried out. 

Final thought: There was a 20 or 25 minute break before the main event, where they set up the barbed wire and all that. Mike and I went downstairs to the bar while Mark stayed up in the hall. The first person we saw in the bar, sitting by himself at one end, was David Starr. He was hunched over a glass of water and a shot glass and staring into the middle distance, at nothing in particular. In a few minutes, he was going to walk upstairs and wrestle the most violent match of his career in front of 500 people and you could see the concern on his face as he went over the possibilities: barbed wire, steel chairs, staple guns, cinder blocks, baseball bats. One spot that goes a little sideways and someone leaves the building in an ambulance. That glimpse of David Starr brooding put the whole night - put all of wrestling, really - into perspective. This wasn’t an angle, this wasn’t a promo, he wasn’t in character: this was a man working up the courage to do something reckless and potentially dangerous because he wanted to do it more than anything in the world. It was the look of a man who has willingly taken a great weight onto his shoulders, as many of us have, or will have to one day. It was a wordless rejoinder to all those snide comments about how wrestling is fake: looking at David Starr’s face, sitting alone and being left alone by his friends and peers, his staring eyes showing exactly what he was prepared to do, one thing was clear to anyone who was paying attention - nothing is more real than wrestling.

[eovinmygod]

From www.newstatesman.com By Mehdi Hasan

As a Muslim, I struggle with the idea of homosexuality – but I oppose homophobia

I've made homophobic remarks in the past, writes Mehdi Hasan, but now I’ve grown up — and reconciled my Islamic beliefs with my attitude to gay rights.

’Tis the season of apologies – specifically, grovelling apologies by some of our finest academic brains for homophobic remarks they’ve made in public. The Cambridge University theologian Dr Tim Winter, one of the UK’s leading Islamic scholars, apologised on 2 May after footage emerged showing him calling homosexuality the “ultimate inversion” and an “inexplicable aberration”. “The YouTube clip is at least 15 years old, and does not in any way represent my present views . . . we all have our youthful enthusiasms, and we all move on.”

The Harvard historian Professor Niall Ferguson apologised “unreservedly” on 4 May for “stupid” and “insensitive” comments in which he claimed that the economist John Maynard Keynes hadn’t cared about “the long run” because he was gay and had no intention of having any children.

Dare I add my non-academic, non-intellectual voice to the mix? I want to issue my own apology. Because I’ve made some pretty inappropriate comments in the past, too.

You may or may not be surprised to learn that, as a teenager, I was one of those wannabe-macho kids who crudely deployed “gay” as a mark of abuse; you will probably be shocked to discover that shamefully, even in my twenties, I was still making the odd disparaging remark about homosexuality.

It’s now 2013 and I’m 33 years old. My own “youthful enthusiasm” is thankfully, if belatedly, behind me.

What happened? Well, for a start, I grew up. Bigotry and demonisation of difference are usually the hallmark of immature and childish minds. But, if I’m honest, something else happened, too: I acquired a more nuanced understanding of my Islamic faith, a better appreciation of its morals, values and capacity for tolerance.

Before we go any further, a bit of background – I was attacked heavily a few weeks ago by some of my co-religionists for suggesting in these pages that too many Muslims in this country have a “Jewish problem” and that we blithely “ignore the rampant anti-Semitism in our own backyard”.

I hope I won’t provoke the same shrieks of outrage and denial when I say that many Muslims also have a problem, if not with homosexuals, then with homosexuality. In fact, a 2009 poll by Gallup found that British Muslims have zero tolerance towards homosexuality. “None of the 500 British Muslims interviewed believed that homosexual acts were morally acceptable,” the Guardian reported in May that year.

Some more background. Orthodox Islam, like orthodox interpretations of the other Abrahamic faiths, views homosexuality as sinful and usually defines marriage as only ever a heterosexual union.

This isn’t to say that there is no debate on the subject. In April, the Washington Post profiled Daayiee Abdullah, who is believed to be the only publicly gay imam in the west. “[I]f you have any same-sex marriages,” the Post quotes him as saying, “I’m available.” Meanwhile, the gay Muslim scholar Scott Siraj al-Haqq Kugle, who teaches Islamic studies at Emory University in the United States, says that notions such as “gay” or “lesbian” are not mentioned in the Quran. He blames Islam’s hostility towards homosexuality on a misreading of the texts by ultra-conservative mullahs.

And, in his 2011 book Reading the Quran, the British Muslim intellectual and writer Ziauddin Sardar argues that “there is abso­lutely no evidence that the Prophet punished anyone for homosexuality”. Sardar says “the demonisation of homosexuality in Muslim history is based largely on fabricated traditions and the unreconstituted prejudice harboured by most Muslim societies”. He highlights verse 31 of chapter 24 of the Quran, in which “we come across ‘men who have no sexual desire’ who can witness the ‘charms’ of women”. I must add here that Abdullah, Kugle and Sardar are in a tiny minority, as are the members of gay Muslim groups such as Imaan. Most mainstream Muslim scholars – even self-identified progressives and moderates such as Imam Hamza Yusuf in the United States and Professor Tariq Ramadan in the UK – consider homosexuality to be a grave sin. The Quran, after all, explicitly condemns the people of Lot for “approach[ing] males” (26:165) and for “lust[ing] on men in preference to women” (7:81), and describes marriage as an institution that is gender-based and procreative.

What about me? Where do I stand on this? For years I’ve been reluctant to answer questions on the subject. I was afraid of the “homophobe” tag. I didn’t want my gay friends and colleagues to look at me with horror, suspicion or disdain.

So let me be clear: yes, I’m a progressive who supports a secular society in which you don’t impose your faith on others – and in which the government, no matter how big or small, must always stay out of the bedroom. But I am also (to Richard Dawkins’s continuing disappointment) a believing Muslim. And, as a result, I really do struggle with this issue of homosexuality. As a supporter of secularism, I am willing to accept same-sex weddings in a state-sanctioned register office, on grounds of equity. As a believer in Islam, however, I insist that no mosque be forced to hold one against its wishes.

If you’re gay, that doesn’t mean I want to discriminate against you, belittle or bully you, abuse or offend you. Not at all. I don’t want to go back to the dark days of criminalisation and the imprisonment of gay men and women; of Section 28 and legalised discrimination. I’m disgusted by the violent repression and persecution of gay people across the Muslim-majority world.

I cringe as I watch footage of the buffoonish Mahmoud Ahmadinejad claiming: “In Iran, we don’t have homosexuals . . . we do not have this phenomenon.” I feel sick to my stomach when I read accounts of how, in the late 1990s, the Taliban in Afghanistan buried gay men alive and then toppled brick walls on top of them.

Nor is this an issue only in the Middle East and south Asia. In March, a Muslim caller to a radio station in New York stunned the host after suggesting, live on air, that gay Americans should be beheaded in line with “sharia law”. Here in the UK, in February, Muslim MPs who voted in favour of the same-sex marriage bill – such as the shadow justice secretary, Sadiq Khan – faced death threats and accusations of apostasy from a handful of Muslim extremists. And last year, a homophobic campaign launched by puffed-up Islamist gangs in east London featured ludicrous and offensive stickers declaring the area a “gay-free zone”.

I know it might be hard to believe, but Islam is not a religion of violence, hate or intolerance – despite the best efforts of a minority of reactionaries and radicals to argue (and behave) otherwise. Out of the 114 chapters of the Quran, 113 begin by introducing the God of Islam as a God of mercy and compassion. The Prophet Muhammad himself is referred to as “a mercy for all creation”. This mercy applies to everyone, whether heterosexual or homosexual. As Tariq Ramadan has put it: “I may disagree with what you are doing because it’s not in accordance with my belief but I respect who are you are.” He rightly notes that this is “a question of respect and mutual understanding”.

I should also point out here that most British Muslims oppose the persecution of homosexuals. A 2011 poll for the think tank Demos found that fewer than one in four British Muslims disagreed with the statement “I am proud of how Britain treats gay people”.

There is much to be proud of, but still much to be done. Homophobic bullying is rife in our schools. Nine out of ten gay or lesbian teenagers report being bullied at school over their sexual orientation. LGBT teens are two to three times more likely to commit suicide than their heterosexual peers.

Despite the recent slight fall in “sexual orientation hate crimes”, in 2012 there were still 4,252 such crimes in England and Wales, four out of every five of which involved “violence against the person”. In March, for instance, a man was jailed for killing a gay teenager by setting him on fire; the killer scrawled homophobic insults across 18-year-old Steven Simpson’s face, forearm and stomach.

Regular readers will know that I spend much of my time speaking out against Islamophobic bigotry: from the crude stereotyping of Muslims in the media and discrimi­nation against Muslims in the workplace to attacks on Muslim homes, businesses and places of worship.

The truth is that Islamophobia and homophobia have much in common: they are both, in the words of the (gay) journalist Patrick Strudwick, “at least partly fuelled by fear. Fear of the unknown . . .” Muslims and gay people alike are victims of this fear – especially when it translates into hate speech or physical attacks. We need to stand side by side against the bigots and hate-mongers, whether of the Islamist or the far-right variety, rather than turn on one another or allow ourselves to be pitted against each other, “Muslims v gays”.

We must avoid stereotyping and demonising each other at all costs. “The biggest question we have as a society,” says a Muslim MP who prefers to remain anonymous, “is how we accommodate difference.”

Remember also that negative attitudes to homosexuality are not the exclusive preserve of Muslims. In 2010, the British Social Attitudes survey showed that 36 per cent of the public regarded same-sex relations as “always” or “mostly wrong”.

A Muslim MP who voted in favour of the same-sex marriage bill tells me that most of the letters of protest that they received in response were from evangelical Christians, not Muslims. And, of course, it wasn’t a Muslim who took the life of poor Steven Simpson.

Yet ultimately I didn’t set out to write this piece to try to bridge the gap between Islam and homosexuality. I am not a theo­logian. Nor am I writing this in response to the ongoing parliamentary debate about the pros and cons of same-sex marriage. I am not a politician.

I am writing this because I want to live in a society in which all minorities – Jews, Muslims, gay people and others – are protected from violence and abuse, from demonisation and discrimination. And because I want to apologise for any hurt or offence that I may have caused to my gay brothers and lesbian sisters.

And yes, whatever our differences – straight or gay, religious or atheist, male or female – we are all brothers and sisters. As the great Muslim leader of the 7th century and son-in-law of the Prophet Muhammad, Ali ibn Abi Talib, once declared: “Remember that people are of two kinds; they are either your brothers in religion or your brothers in mankind.”

Mehdi Hasan is a contributing writer for the New Statesman and the political director of the Huffington Post UK, where this article is crossposted

Mehdi Hasan is a contributing writer for the New Statesman and the co-author of Ed: The Milibands and the Making of a Labour Leader. He was the New Statesman's senior editor (politics) from 2009-12.

[lgbt-teenager-support]

Warning: Long post!!

@mercialachesis said:

Hey I was wondering if you could recommend some books or films with an agender character either main or side? Thank you !!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hello! I'm sorry I couldn't answer your ask straight up, this post includes a lot of links.

I couldn't find very many books that describe the character as specifically agender, but there are a lot that use the words "gender fluid" "gender flux" "gender queer" and the like if you're ok with that! Summaries taken from Goodreads

Mask of Shadows - by Linsey Miller

"Sallot Leon is a thief, and a good one at that. But gender fluid Sal wants nothing more than to escape the drudgery of life as a highway robber and get closer to the upper-class and the nobles who destroyed their home. When Sal Leon steals a poster announcing open auditions for the Left Hand, a powerful collection of the Queen's personal assassins named for the rings she wears -- Ruby, Emerald, Amethyst, and Opal -- their world changes. They know it's a chance for a new life. Except the audition is a fight to the death filled with clever circus acrobats, lethal apothecaries, and vicious ex-soldiers. A childhood as a common criminal hardly prepared Sal for the trials. But Sal must survive to put their real reason for auditioning into play: revenge."

Symptoms of Being Human - by Jeff Garvin

"The first thing you’re going to want to know about me is: Am I a boy, or am I a girl? Riley Cavanaugh is many things: Punk rock. Snarky. Rebellious. And gender fluid. Some days Riley identifies as a boy, and others as a girl. The thing is…Riley isn’t exactly out yet. And between starting a new school and having a congressman father running for reelection in uber-conservative Orange County, the pressure—media and otherwise—is building up in Riley’s so-called “normal” life. On the advice of a therapist, Riley starts an anonymous blog to vent those pent-up feelings and tell the truth of what it’s REALLY like to be a gender fluid teenager. But just as Riley’s starting to settle in at school—even developing feelings for a mysterious outcast—the blog goes viral, and an unnamed commenter discovers Riley’s real identity, threatening exposure. Riley must make a choice: walk away from what the blog has created—a lifeline, new friends, a cause to believe in—or stand up, come out, and risk everything."

What We Left Behind - by Robin Talley

"Toni and Gretchen are the couple everyone envied in high school. They've been together forever. They never fight. They’re deeply, hopelessly in love. When they separate for their first year at college—Toni to Harvard and Gretchen to NYU—they’re sure they’ll be fine. Where other long-distance relationships have fallen apart, theirs is bound to stay rock-solid. The reality of being apart, though, is very different than they expected. Toni, who identifies as genderqueer, meets a group of transgender upperclassmen and immediately finds a sense of belonging that has always been missing, but Gretchen struggles to remember who she is outside their relationship. While Toni worries that Gretchen won’t understand Toni’s new world, Gretchen begins to wonder where she fits in Toni's life. As distance and Toni’s shifting gender identity begins to wear on their relationship, the couple must decide—have they grown apart for good, or is love enough to keep them together?"

The Tiger's Watch - by Julia Ember

"Sixteen-year-old Tashi has spent their life training as a inhabitor, a soldier who spies and kills using a bonded animal. When the capital falls after a brutal siege, Tashi flees to a remote monastery to hide. But the invading army turns the monastery into a hospital, and Tashi catches the eye of Xian, the regiment’s fearless young commander. Tashi spies on Xian’s every move. In front of his men, Xian seems dangerous, even sadistic, but Tashi discovers a more vulnerable side of the enemy commander—a side that draws them to Xian. When their spying unveils that everything they’ve been taught is a lie, Tashi faces an impossible choice: save their country or the boy they’re growing to love. Though Tashi grapples with their decision, their volatile bonded tiger doesn't question her allegiances. Katala slaughters Xian’s soldiers, leading the enemy to hunt her. But an inhabitor’s bond to their animal is for life—if Katala dies, so will Tashi."

Love Spell - by Mia Kerick

"Strutting his stuff on the catwalk in black patent leather pumps and a snug orange tuxedo as this year’s Miss (ter) Harvest Moon feels so very right to Chance César, and yet he knows it should feel so very wrong. As far back as he can remember, Chance has been “caught between genders.” (It’s quite a touchy subject; so don’t ask him about it.) However, he does not question his sexual orientation. Chance has no doubt about his gayness—he is very much out of the closet at his rural New Hampshire high school, where the other students avoid the kid they refer to as “girl-boy.” But at the local Harvest Moon Festival, when Chance, the Pumpkin Pageant Queen, meets Jasper Donahue, the Pumpkin Carving King, sparks fly. So Chance sets out, with the help of his BFF, Emily, to make “Jazz” Donahue his man. An article in an online women’s magazine, Ten Scientifically Proven Ways to Make a Man Fall in Love with You (with a bonus love spell thrown in for good measure), becomes the basis of their strategy to capture Jazz’s heart. Quirky, comical, definitely flamboyant, and with an inner core of poignancy, Love Spell celebrates the diversity of a gender-fluid teen."

Chameleon Moon - by RoAnna Sylver

"The city of Parole is burning. Like Venice slips into the sea, Parole crumbles into fire. The entire population inside has been quarantined, cut off from the rest of the world, and left to die - directly over the open flame. Eye in the Sky, a deadly and merciless police force ensures no one escapes. Ever. All that’s keeping Parole alive is faith in the midst of horrors and death, trust in the face of desperation… and their fantastic, terrifying, and beautiful superhuman abilities. Regan, stealth and reconnaissance expert with a lizard's scales and snake's eyes, is haunted by ten years of anxiety, trauma and terror, and he’s finally reached his limit. His ability to disappear into thin air isn’t enough: he needs an escape, and he’ll do anything for a chance. Unluckily for him, Hans, a ghostly boy with a chilling smile, knows just the thing to get one. It starts with a little murder. But instead of ending a man’s life, Regan starts a new one of his own. He turns away from that twisted path, and runs into Evelyn, fearless force on stage and sonic-superheroic revolutionary on the streets. Now Regan has a choice - and a chance to not only escape from Parole, but unravel the mystery deep in its burning heart. And most of all, discover the truth about their own entwining pasts. They join forces with Evelyn’s family: the virtuosic but volatile Danae, who breathes life into machines, and her wife Rose, whose compassionate nature and power over healing vines and defensive thorns will both be vital to survive this nightmare. Then there’s Zilch, a cool and level-headed person made of other dead people, and Finn, one of Parole’s few remaining taxi drivers, who causes explosions whenever he feels anything but happy. Separately they’d never survive, much less uncover the secret of Parole’s eternally-burning fire. Together, they have a chance. Unfortunately, Hans isn’t above playing dirty, lying, cheating, manipulating… and holding Regan’s memories hostage until he gets his way. Parole’s a rough place to live. But they’re not dead yet. If they can survive the imminent cataclysmic disaster, they might just stay that way…"

Black Sunrise - by Christina Engela

"When a single Ruminarii Hammerhead arrived to invade the small backwater Terran colony of Deanna, the people of Atro City went to meet them at the space port with open arms. (Perhaps ‘exposed’ is a better word?) Life as a private investigator, slash bounty hunter isn’t all Gary Beck wanted it to be. There weren’t any big mansions on a palm beach owned by an affluent writer generous enough to let him live rent-free and use his spare Ferrari. But then, you have to ask yourself, what could you expect living on a planet like Deanna? As a third rate colony in the Terran Empire, Deanna had more than its fair share of dull moments. It orbited a star called Ramalama. If you think that’s funny, Deanna’s two moons were called Ding and Dong, respectively. (This is a local joke.) Cindy Mei Winter hoped to put her violent and somehow depressing past behind her, but now it seemed her new beginning (and her holiday) were going to have to wait."

If Found Return To Astropop - by Lucas Hargis

"Unaware of one another’s gender or appearance, a poor, aspiring architect and a spoiled, free-spirited astronomy fanatic find themselves mutually smitten by reading each other’s journals. Genderfluid, sixteen-year-old Robin “Astropop” Chicory lost a journal three months ago. When a stranger (known only as Pippopotamus) secretly returns it, Astro discovers that Pip read their innermost thoughts and meticulously traced Astro’s past movements. Without meeting, Pip believes s/he is smitten with Astropop. Astro knows this because Pip wrote a heartfelt journal in response. Astro reads both journals side-by-side, amazed at how simple words on paper can exert a mutual gravity between complete strangers. As their tandem confessions and intimate stories tangle with the drama in Astro’s everyday life, Astro ends up hopelessly smitten with Pip, too. But because of distance, timing, and interference from the universe, it’s impossible for them to ever meet. When Astro flips to Pip’s last precious page, a supernova of hope explodes—a precise time and place where shy Pip will be waiting. Astro can finally meet the intriguing Pip, but fears their deep, inexplicable connection will be broken. And there’s the world-shattering chance the revelations of who they each truly are will eclipse their imagined versions of one another."

And here's the entire Goodreads list in case any books I didn't include speak to you! Hope this helped! For the life of me I couldn't find any agender movie characters :( If anyone knows of other books in this vein feel free to add!

-Mod Gaby

[grizbehr]

This is a Facebook post from a pastor who went to the Trump rally in Florida. It’s long but a very insightful read. One thing I found particularly interesting was this passage: What I discovered was that by hosting this as a campaign event, Mr. Trump could determine who was and was not allowed in the venue. If he came on an official visit, they could not prohibit anyone from entering and he couldn't sell his campaign merchandise. 

Joel Tooley

What I am about to write and what you are about to read may make some people very uncomfortable, if not angry.

That is not my intention nor is it okay with me to cause anyone to stumble. That being said, what I experienced tonight was so dramatic that I cannot help but reflect on it and share what I experienced.

A few days ago, people across the United States heard the news that our newly elected President would be visiting Melbourne, Florida – our hometown. It is no surprise to many that I do not support many of the objectives and "campaignisms" of Donald Trump. I know many people who voted for him - friends, family, church people who all voted for their own reasons. The point of this experience is not to relay all of the reasons why I think he should not be the president. Those points are moot – he IS our President.

Now, I am enough of a sentimentalist that when I found out THEEEE President was coming to town, I got online quickly and reserved two tickets.

The tickets were being given away by the Trump-Pence campaign; I found it odd that the tickets indicated that this was not a government/White House event & that this was a campaign event. I have, of course, posted a joking post about that earlier. What I discovered was that by hosting this as a campaign event, Mr. Trump could determine who was and was not allowed in the venue. If he came on an official visit, they could not prohibit anyone from entering and he couldn't sell his campaign merchandise.

So, in essence, he was only allowing his supporters in the room. Well, with a few exceptions…

I talked my 11-year-old daughter into coming with me. After all, how many times do you get to see the President of the United States in person – let alone in your hometown? I was eager for her to have this experience. It has to be a pretty cool thing, as a kid to see Air Force One, the President and the First Lady.

The event started at 5 PM; we got in line at the venue shortly after 2 PM and the line was already pretty long. There are several mini stories to be told about that experience but don't need to be told for this post. Suffice it to say, it is always an intriguing sociological experience to be surrounded by people in line for something for which they are fanatics - whether it is for a movie premier, a live concert, the release of the latest beanie baby or Cabbage Patch kid. Fanatic people are fascinating to me.

While I am not a fan of Trump, I certainly did not want to come across as a vigilante protester while standing amongst some of his most adoring fans. I truly wanted to see if what I was going to witness in person was any different than what I had observed on TV.

The entry into the event was very impressive. I have always admired the professional posturing of the Secret Service, including those from our own local law-enforcement who were on duty serving in this capacity. These are women and men who should be highly commended for placing their lives on the line.

We entered the venue at 3 PM, two hours before the event started. As we entered, everyone was being handed pom-poms and Trump campaign signs. The hosts made sure everyone had a sign in their hand. Someone shoved one into my hand and gave pom-poms to my daughter.

I felt like a sheep in wolves clothing.

Music was playing loudly throughout the venue as it filled up with hundreds of people. I would guess there were eventually at least 3000 people in the room. It was nowhere near full, but there certainly were a lot of people there. From my view, the crowd was 99.9% white folk. I did see a row of about 10-12 supporters who were black, wearing T-shirts that said, "Trump and Republicans are not racist" - they were positioned in the seating area directly behind the podium.

We were about three rows of people from the very front and had a very good position to view the President and the platform. As people were coming in, there was a lot of excitement and a strong sense of patriotism.   Approximately every 15 minutes, the music would be a little more enthusiastic and party-like. I posted my play-by-play feedback of "God bless the USA!" in an earlier post...it was almost church-like. People sang along, raising their hands and were emotionally moved by this anthem.  It was intriguing to watch.

People were being ushered into a deeply religious experience...and it made me completely uncomfortable.

I love my country; I honor those who sacrificed their lives for our freedom and I respect our history and what we stand for, but what I experienced in that moment sent shivers down my spine. I felt like people were here to worship an ideology along with the man who was leading it. Don't get me wrong, it wasn't the song per se – it was this inexplicable movement that was happening in the room. It was a religious zeal.

You might liken it to the experience fans would have after their favorite team won the Super Bowl – faces painted, banners flying, confetti in the air and celebrating.

But this – this was deeper.

A couple of local politicians got up to bring greetings followed by state representative, followed by one of our Congress representatives. A soloist sang, "God bless America" and there was a strong sense of patriotism in the room. A pastor got up to pray and repeatedly prayed throughout his prayer, "Thank you for making this the greatest nation on earth…in Jesus' name."

Uh-uh. No. No way, josé.

Pastor, this is not the greatest nation on earth. The greatest nation on earth does not exist. Are we a great nation? Definitely. But there are many other great nations as well. Pastor, you have your eyes on a different kind of  "greatness" and certainly a different kind of kingdom. Shame on you for praying those words in Jesus' name!

Suddenly, the music changed from the pep rally theme to something that seemed more Star Wars themed. The crowd went crazy and turned towards the opening of the airplane hangar that was the venue, just as Air Force One pulled up.

What a magnificent sight! That enormous airliner is absolutely breathtaking. The crowd was going wild; signs waving in the air, people cheering, and every cell phone was positioned to take photos and video. As the First Lady and the President emerged at the top of the stairs, the air was electric! It really is a magnificent image to see in person!

As they entered the venue and walked to the platform, there was terrific celebration. I have been in the room when other Presidents were in a similar mode – it is always such a meaningful experience to be that close to them, regardless of whether or not you view them with adoration. Theeeee President of the USA!

The First Lady approached the platform and in her rich accent, began to recite the Lord's prayer.

I can't explain it, but I felt sick. This wasn't a prayer beseeching the presence of Almighty God, it felt theatrical and manipulative.

People across the room were reciting it as if it were a pep squad cheer. At the close of the prayer, the room erupted in cheering. It was so uncomfortable. I observed that Mr. Trump did not recite the prayer until the very last line, "be the glory forever and ever, amen!" As he raised his hands in the air, evoking a cheer from the crowd, "USA! USA! USA!"

Just as the President begin to speak, a short grandmotherly lady in front of us asked me if I would help hold her walker – the kind that has a seat built into it. She said, "I need to climb up on it and hold something up." Such an odd request at such an odd place at such an odd time. So, I helped her.

She held a pillowcase that had something written on the front of it, words I could not see. She climbed up onto the seat, wobbly-legged and held the sign up above her head. People in front of her turned around and started jeering and yelling at her. After holding her sign up for about 10 seconds, she climbed back down and thanked me. I asked her what her sign said – it read, "You had your chance, now resign!"

The very first words out of the President's mouth were the words of a bully. That is not simply one person's perspective, it is factual. He immediately began badgering and criticizing the media; like a bully inciting a crowd.

Now, do I think the media needs to be held to a high standard and be able to be held accountable? Absolutely! The media as a whole has become sadly non-journalistic and more entertainment, in my opinion.

Call it what you will, but I was completely dumbfounded as the most powerful leader in the world began his speech by badgering the media. The crowd began screaming angrily at the entire press corps that was present.

He could have said something inspiring and worthy of a Tweet or Facebook post, instead he emerged as an overly powerful bully. Literally, everything that he began speaking about evoked this angry response from the crowd.  Immediately following the words of prayer that Jesus taught his followers…

It was then that I heard two ladies off to my left chanting, not yelling or screaming but chanting, "T-R....U-M-P; that's how you spell - bigotry!" They repeated the rhyme over and over.

Two ladies in front of them began seething and screaming in their face while shaking their Trump signs at them. Another couple standing behind them started screaming at them as well. One of the chanting ladies had her eight-year-old daughter on her back; the other had a severely disabled child in a wheelchair in front of her. As they continued chanting, the people around them became violently enraged. One angry man grabbed the lady's arm - that's when I went into action. I barged through the crowd and yelled at them to back off. My heart wasn't racing; I just instinctively became a protector.

I didn't actually want a Trump sign, but one of the volunteers had shoved it into my hands as I walked through  the door earlier; "Make America Great Again!" That sign probably saved someone from getting hurt. I held the sign close to my chest as I positioned myself between the chanting protesters and the angry mob. My 11-year-old daughter was clinging to my arm, sobbing in fear.

The two angry, screaming ladies looked at me, both of them raised their middle finger at me in my face and repeatedly yelled, "F*#% YOU!" Repeatedly.

I calmly responded, "No thank you, I'm happily married." Their faces and their voices were filled with demonic anger.

I have been in places and experiences before where demonic activity was palpable. The power of the Holy Spirit of God was protecting me in those moments and was once again protecting me and my daughter in this moment.

I raised my voice and calmly said, "These ladies have the right to do what they are doing and they are harming no one; this is America and they a right to express themselves in this way. They are harming no one." A couple of other people around me stepped in and supported me in protecting them as a barrier, as well.

My daughter was shaking in fear as she clung to me. The one man behind the protesters shoved himself forward, grabbed the lady by the arm and screamed with multiple expletives, "I'm going to take you out! This is my president and nobody has the right to disrespect him and nobody has the right to keep me from hearing him!"

I wish I could have captured the expressions of that man on camera. I will never forget him.

The little girl on her mother's back was crying, completely frightened. I leaned forward and reassured her in her ear, "Your mommy is being brave and we will not let these people hurt you. You are afraid because these are angry, awful people. We will not let them hurt you or your mommy. You are being so brave and your mommy is doing something very brave."

That's when another lady screamed in my face that what I was doing was un-American. I just chuckled and responded, "What I am doing is completely American – I'm standing up for people who are being bullied – it doesn't matter if I agree with them or not. You came here to see the President, now ignore these ladies, turn around and enjoy the show." Without explanation, they calm down and turned around to hear what Trump had to say.

The two protesters then moved towards the back and left the building. I got a couple of high-fives and "thanks for stepping up for them" from bystanders . I wanted to say, "Thanks. Where were you when the the demons were screaming and fists were getting ready to start swinging?"

Once again, the environment reminded me of some church experiences I've had. Bystanders.

I have no clue what Trump was saying at that point – draining the swamp, vetting refugees, and other things. Oh yeah, I heard people chanting, "Build that wall, build that wall!"

I realized then that we were not listening to someone presidential, we were listening to someone terribly powerful.

My kid was shaken - she had just seen some of the worst of humanity. We edged ourselves away from the front of the room to the opening of the hangar so we could get a clearer picture of Air Force One. I wanted to give her at least one positive presidential memory.

The crowd was much thinner at the back of the room, people were leaving by the hundreds. Outside, there were two jumbotrons set up for a potential overflow – there really wasn't a need for them. There were maybe a couple of hundred people outside watching on the big screens.

Not too far behind that group was a large group of protesters.

Inside, Trump had rallied the group by giving a little bit of attention to the "paid protesters outside." Now, I can't speak for all of them, but I asked a few where they were from and why they were there - every single one of them were from different cities in Florida and could quickly articulate why they were there. They were not paid protesters – not the ones I spoke with.

I'm trying to separate how I actually feel about this man and his campaignisms. I know why people voted for him; I know why people voted against his opponent. But, at the end of the day, what I felt from his leadership in this experience was actually horrifying. There was palpable fear in the room. There was thick anger and vengeance. He was counting on it. I don't think I'm exaggerating when I say that it would not have taken very much for him to have called this group of people into some kind of riotous reaction.

Now, not everyone in the room was a part of the angry mob mentality – I looked around the room and saw many people who could quite easily be folks from my neighborhood, folks from my church, folks who were planning to go grab a bite to eat at Cracker Barrel afterwards. Folks who truly wanted to see America "great." The people who support the Republican Party want to see some needed changes in the government – the people that were there for that reason, are by and large good folks. But those are not the people the President was inciting – they are not the people he was leading. He was rallying the angry, vigilant ones.

As we began to leave, I knew my daughter could not possibly care less about Air Force One or the fact that she saw the President of the United States and his wife, in the flesh. I truly had hoped that she could have had that sentimental experience.

What she WILL remember is the angry, violent man screaming demonic vitriol at a child and her mother.  She will remember the two ladies screaming at her Dad, her pastor – flipping the middle finger and using the F word repeatedly.

Now, I know there are people who are convinced that I am jaded and cannot fairly give this man a fair chance. Perhaps that's true. But please remember, especially those of you who know me well, I am a student of culture and human behavior. I am not a stubborn, close minded individual who likes to stick to the status quo. I know there are people who long for me to see the good things about this President and to talk about THOSE things. I know there are people who want me to realize that not everything he is doing is bad and that every President has their strengths and weaknesses and…

I know there are people who, when they see these words and hear my thoughts will feel badly because perhaps they can't like me as much as they once did because they don't agree with me. They want me to like the President that they like – they want me to see him the way they see him.

I'm sorry. I cannot. You see, the angry, F-word-spewing man is what has been depended on throughout this campaign and is the one who is still being counted on to sustain the message. I tried.

As we left the room, these words were echoing in my mind, "Our Father, who art in heaven, Hallowed be Thy name. Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done..."

At the end of the day, I'm a citizen of a nation - I have a leader who God is very aware and who has tremendous responsibilities. I MUST and will pray for him. I'm a citizen of this world and I must continue to see beyond my own limited world view to seek ways to obediently serve Christ. But greater still, I am a citizen of a different kind of Kingdom - the Kingdom that strives for peace, mercy, kindness and a love-relationship with the King of kings.

May God have mercy on me.

[shirlleycoyle]

Schools Spy on Kids to Prevent Shootings, But There’s No Evidence It Works

It was another sleepy board of education meeting in Woodbridge, N.J. The board gave out student commendations and presented budget requests. Parents complained about mold in classrooms. Then, a pair of high schoolers stepped up to the podium with a concern that took the district officials completely off guard.

“We have students so concerned about their privacy that they’re resorting to covering their [laptop] cameras and microphones with tape,” a junior said at the October 18, 2018 meeting.

Woodbridge had recently joined hundreds of other school districts across the country in subscribing to GoGuardian, one of a growing number of school-focused surveillance companies. Promising to promote school safety and stop mass shootings, these companies sell tools that give administrators, teachers, and in some cases parents, the ability to snoop on every action students take on school-issued devices.

The Woodbridge students were not pleased.

“We just want to ask again: How are you going to assure our right to privacy when we have been having these problems and we have so many fears because of GoGuardian, and the fact that they can monitor everything that we see and we do?” the student asked the school board.

After a pause, board president Jonathan Triebwasser responded: “A very fair question. I don’t know enough about GoGuardian to give you a fair answer.” He asked the district’s superintendent to look into it.

The capabilities of software programs like GoGuardian vary, but most can monitor the user’s browsing history, social media activity, and location, and some even log keystrokes. That surveillance doesn’t stop at the school doors, but continues everywhere children carry their school-issued computers and whenever they log into school accounts.

The companies that make this software—popular brands include Securly, Gaggle, and Bark—say that their machine learning detection systems keep students safe from themselves and away from harmful online content. Some vendors claim to have prevented school shootings and intervened to save thousands of suicidal children.

There is, however, no independent research that backs up these claims.

The few published studies looking into the impacts of these tools indicate that they may have the opposite effect, breaking down trust relationships within schools and discouraging adolescents from reaching out for help—particularly those in minority and LGBTQ communities, who are far more likely to seek help online.

“I’m sure there are some instances in which these tools might have worked, but I haven’t seen the data and I can’t verify in any way that what they’re saying is correct, or that there weren’t other ways available to get that information without subjecting the entire school to that surveillance,” said Faiza Patel, director of the Brennan Center for Justice’s liberty and national security program, who researches surveillance software.

School spying software has spread quickly as districts have increasingly put personal laptops and tablets in the hands of students. Meanwhile, school officials are under intense pressure to protect their wards from explicit online content and, even more urgently, detect early signs of potential school shootings.

Bark says that its free monitoring software for schools protects more than 4 million children. Its tools have “prevented” 16 school shootings and detected more than 20,000 “severe self-harm” threats, according to the company’s homepage. From January through August 2018 alone, Bark claims, it identified five bomb and shooting threats, nine instances of online predators contacting children, 135,984 instances of cyberbullying, 309,299 instances of students using school accounts to talk about or buy drugs, 11,548 instances of children expressing desires to harm themselves or commit suicide, and 199,236 instances of children sharing explicit content.

Numbers like that are understandably convincing to district administrators and parents, especially when companies offer their products to schools for free. Bark spokeswoman Janelle Dickerson said Bark makes its money from the $9-per-month version of its tool that it sells to families. The paid version currently covers 200,000 children, a small fraction of the 4 million children watched by the free version in schools.. Securly offers a paid premium product with more features than its free tool. Both companies categorically denied profiting from the data they collect on millions of students through their free offerings.

Upon closer inspection, the numbers Bark touts for its school software appear much more like marketing copy than legitimate data.

For one thing, the company’s numbers don’t always appear to be consistent. Earlier this year, Bark told TV stations in North Carolina and South Carolina that from May 2018 to May 2019, it had identified 14,671 instances of students expressing desires to harm themselves or commit suicide in those states alone.

When compared to the national statistics on its website, that would mean that the two states—which include just 50 of the more than 1,200 K-12 districts Bark claims as customers—produced a huge proportion of the incidents Bark flags across all 50 states.

The numbers suggest that during a 12-month period the company identified significantly more instances of kids contemplating self harm in the Carolinas (14,671) than it did nationwide during an overlapping nine-month period (11,548). Similarly, the 50 districts in the Carolinas apparently produced 88,827 instances of cyberbullying during that year, equivalent to 65 percent of the 135,984 cyberbullying cases detected in all 1,200 Bark districts across the country during that same period. The rest of the data shared with the Carolina TV stations is similarly disproportionate.

Statistics like these have prompted academics and school policy officials to question the integrity and consistency of digital surveillance companies’ data.

“What is particularly challenging about this issue is the tremendous urgency school districts are being faced with to do something and do something now [about suicide and school shootings] … combined with a tremendous lack of evidence that these tools do what they say they do,” said Elizabeth Laird, the senior fellow for student privacy at the Center for Democracy & Technology.

“If there is evidence or research that is available, it’s provided by the vendor. It’s not provided by an independent researcher.”

Bark’s claims also dwarf those of some of its larger competitors, suggesting a severe lack of consistency across the industry when it comes to defining what constitutes a threat.

For example, Securly, which also offers many of its products to schools for free, says it serves more than 10 million kids across 10,000 districts. During the last school year, its artificial intelligence systems and human monitors detected a comparatively miniscule 465 “imminent threats” to students—86 percent of those cases involved instances of potential self-harm, 12 percent violence toward others, 1 percent cyberbullying, and 1 percent drug-related comments, according to Mike Jolley, a former North Carolina school principal who now serves as Securly’s director of K-12 safety operations.

Asked what evidence Bark relies on to determine whether its products make schools or students safer, a company spokeswoman responded: “The primary evidence is the testimonials we receive from parents and schools daily.”

She added that Bark has never participated in an independent study of its services because “We do not retain data nor would we share user data with a third party.” However, the company does retain data for the purpose of publishing aggregate marketing statistics.

Other companies, like GoGuardian, don’t publicize their threat detection statistics as part of their marketing material. GoGuardian did not respond to multiple requests for an interview or written questions.

Motherboard signed up for Bark’s free service, giving the company access to an email account, Twitter, Spotify, Google Drive, and web browsing history. Inexplicably, the monitoring extension for the Chrome browser didn’t appear to work, even after Motherboard verified it was installed correctly with a Bark representative. During the course of the month-long experiment the extension didn’t flag a single issue, despite a reporter visiting numerous sites that included the same keywords and content that Bark flagged in emails.

During the month of the experiment, Bark flagged 78 potential issues, which were summarized in daily emails sent to a Motherboard account registered as a parent. The vast majority of the flagged content came from daily email roundups from news outlets—including the Washington Post, MIT Technology Review, and others. This echoes a complaint made by students in Woodbridge and other school districts—that surveillance software often blocks access to legitimate news and educational websites.

After filtering out the newsletters, there were a few remaining activities that may have caused some parents of minors genuine concern: Drake lyrics, and an email conversation with a catering company that included a wine and beer order.

But most of what was left merely demonstrated the limits of language analysis algorithms when it comes to understanding context. Bark flagged a retweet about the U.S. withdrawing troops from Syria as hate speech and cyberbullying. It deemed a Seamless ad for the restaurant Jerk off the Grill to be sexual content.

Slightly humorous miscategorizations like these may be warnings of more significant issues with algorithms designed to detect violent or worrying behavior.

Natural language processing algorithms have been shown to be worse at recognizing and categorizing African American dialects of English. And popular tools used to screen online comments for hate speech and cyberbullying tend to disproportionately flag posts from African Americans.

“One of the things to kind of understand about surveillance software is that it’s going to have a huge number of false positives,” Patel said. “The question becomes: Well, what do you do when kids are flagged and how does the school react to that? We know that school discipline disproportionately targets African American and Latino youth, regardless of the offense.”

Several school surveillance software companies claim that their algorithms go beyond simple keyword identification—such as flagging when a student writes “bomb” or “gun”—and analyze the context of the message along with recent web activity. How they do that, though, is considered a proprietary secret.

“With sentiment analysis, a student can say ‘I can’t take this anymore, I want to end it all’ … something that’s just looking for keywords may not catch that,” said Jolley, the Securly director of K-12 security.

But the task becomes much more difficult when you consider LGBTQ students, or those from other marginalized groups, who rely on the internet for health information and positive communities.

Valerie Steeves, a criminologist at the University of Ottawa, has researched the effects of school surveillance on children extensively. She’s currently gathering data from students exposed to similar tools in Eastern and Central Canada.

“The trans and LGBTQ kids we talk to … they articulate very clearly that these kinds of technologies (internet forums and social media) have been great for them because they need some kind of place to find community and someplace to go to find health information,” Steeves told Motherboard. “And yet, they find they’re under so much surveillance that it affects them in ways that shuts them out of those resources. They learn not to look. They learn not to trust online public spaces.”

Jolley acknowledged that Securly is grappling with just that problem.

“It’s hard because students do use derogatory slang … and they say ‘Johnny you’re gay,’ and they may mean that in a bullying aspect,” he said. “We are actively working on ways to continue [improving our algorithms]. We have made efforts.”

“I feel like we’re doing a lot of positive things for student learning and how things are working at the school but I don’t have hard data,” he added.

There is no definitive study proving students perform worse when schools monitor their web activity and personal messages—nor are there any that show monitoring makes them safer, according to experts.

But there are real incidents that justify students’ fears—like the ones that prompted Woodbridge high schoolers to stick tape over their webcams. Woodbridge Superintendent Robert Zega initially agreed to an interview for this article, but did not speak to Motherboard before publication.

Nine years before the Woodbridge students spoke at their local board of education meeting, sophomore Blake Robbins was called into an assistant principal’s office in nearby Lower Merion, Pennsylvania. She accused him of dealing drugs. The evidence: a photo of Robbins sitting in his room with brightly colored pill-like objects that was taken when the district remotely activated his school-issued laptop’s webcam using device monitoring software called LANrev.

The picture was part of a cache of 56,000 photographs that the district took of students without their knowledge. It included sensitive material like Robbins standing shirtless in his room.

The “drugs” in the picture turned out to be candy. Following a federal class action lawsuit, the Lower Merion School District settled for $610,000. Robbins received $175,000 and a second student who joined the case received $10,000. The rest of the settlement covered their lawyers’ fees.

But the spyware that enabled the covert surveillance was bought and rebranded by Vancouver-based Absolute Software. It is the precursor to software that is now tracking devices in a number of school districts, including Baltimore Public Schools.

Egregious invasions of students’ privacy, like in the Lower Merion case, will grab headlines. But school communities should be equally worried about the long-term effects of using surveillance software on children, said Andrew Hope, a sociologist at Federation University, in Australia, who studies youth surveillance.

“Our contemporary surveillance technologies indoctrinate our students, our citizens … into a culture of observation in which they learn to be watched and are accepting of unremitting surveillance as a norm,” he said. “There is a behavioral modification that happens, but we’re not entirely sure what the outcomes of such a modification might be. Are we teaching them to be surveilled? To be producers of data in a surveillance economy?”

Schools Spy on Kids to Prevent Shootings, But There’s No Evidence It Works syndicated from https://triviaqaweb.wordpress.com/feed/

[plantrock]

Hi Internet!

It’s that time of year again. I’m pleased to report that even with moving, traveling, and starting school again, I still managed to read 53 books in 2017. Not as many as last year, but given the chaos my life has been through in the last 12 months I am not in the least upset. 50 books is a good goal for me, as it’s roughly one book a week–though in reality I read in jumps and spurts. Sometimes a book will take two weeks, whereas, in weeks like this one, I’ll read three books in one week.

For this year’s recap I am going to separate the books I read into categories by my ratings, as well as give a one-sentence (ish) review. Want more info? Message me or look up the book!

FIVE STAR

THE POWER, Naomi Alderman

   Women around the world spontaneously obtain the ability to generate and control electricity and the chaos that ensues left me shaken in the best way. (WORLD WAR Z meets THE HANDMAID’S TALE.)

GLAMOUR ADDICTION, Juliet McMains

A very readable academic analysis of the socioeconomic landscape of competitive Ballroom dance that had me excitedly annotating from page one.

HAMILTON: THE REVOLUTION, Lin-Manual Miranda & Jeremy McCarter

I mean do I really have to explain this–there’s a million things I haven’t done, but just you wait.

THE END OF THE DAY, Claire North

A slow-but-emotional travelogue of the adventures of the Harbinger of Death–not my favorite of North’s novels, but contains her characteristically beautiful prose.

THE COLLAPSING EMPIRE, John Scalzi

The first installment in a cinematic space opera series by sci-fi giant Scalzi, EMPIRE is tightly plotted, has fascinating characters, and the far-future world feels familiar without exactly copying others in the genre.

REJECTED PRINCESSES, Jason Porath

Tired of the Grimm and Disney versions? This collection of women from myth, legend, and history around the world explores less convenient and less kid-friendly tales of women who stuck to their guns and caused a ruckus.

SO YOU’VE BEEN PUBLICLY SHAMED, Jon Ronson

Though slightly dated in our modern light-speed internet world, this exploration of the power of social media is required reading for anyone participating in the Feed.

PANDEMIC, Sonia Shah

Yes, I’m a sucker for the world-wide-plague book, but this non-fiction depiction of how epidemics begin, spread, and shape the world we know today is excellent.

SPINNING MAMBO INTO SALSA, Juliet McMains

An ethnographic and historical comparison of the three US cities that spawned Salsa and Mambo, this book is a must-read for anyone interested in social dance and the phenomenon that is Salsa.

EVERYTHING I NEVER TOLD YOU, Celeste Ng

A deft and moving family drama about immigration, middle-class America, and the secrets we keep from those closest to us.

FOUR STAR

SAILING TO SARANTIUM & LORD OF EMPERORS, Guy Gavriel Kay

A lyrical and occasionally violent duology that walks the line between alt-history and fantasy based on the Byzantine empire.

THE REFRIGERATOR MONOLOGUES, Catherynne Valente

THE VAGINA MONOLOGUES meets every superhero story ever–this short-story collection is piercing look at (loosely) veiled comic book tales and the women they have wronged.

THE NURSES, Alexandra Robbins

A non-fiction account of lives of those in the medical field who often seem to play second-fiddle to doctors. (Honestly I don’t remember much about this one, but I must have enjoyed it.)

STORIES OF YOUR LIFE, AND OTHERS, Ted Chiang

A mind-bending collection of science fiction short stories, including the one that inspired the 2016 movie ARRIVAL.

VAMPIRE GOD, Mary Hallub

The most comprehensive academic analysis of vampire media in the 19th through 21st centuries I have ever read.

IT DEVOURS!, Joseph Fink and Jeffrey Cranor

This second book in the Night Vale world tackles science vs religion, and though they miss the mark a little, I will always love their prose and the universe they have built.

DANCE WRITINGS AND POETRY, Edwin Denby

This collection of original poetry and arts reviews contains gems from mid-20th-century dance critic Edwin Denby, including a fascinating interview regarding classicism with George Balanchine himself.

THE CITY AND THE CITY, China Mieville

  Is it science fiction? Is it artfully written detective fiction? I don’t think I’ve read a book so able to walk that line between fantasy and reality–as the characters walk the lines between their inexplicably separated cities.

BEAUTIFUL FLESH: A BODY OF ESSAYS, edited by Stephanie G’Schwind

 A collection of essays from a variety of authors, each focusing on a particular body part and their relationship to it. My personal favorite was a musing on the heart and humans’ relationship to electricity from an author with an implanted defibrillator.

WHAT IS LIFE? HOW CHEMISTRY BECOMES BIOLOGY, Addy Pross

A systems chemists attempt to re-frame how we think about life and its origins on our planet. This book is short but technically dense–good for the trained scientist, less so for the layperson.

THE BEGINNING OF THE WORLD IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT, Jen Campbell

A quietly creepy collection of fairy tale and folk-lore-influenced short stories. My favorite was the first story, about a man who buys his girlfriend a new heart to ensure that she won’t leave him.

THE QUEEN OF BLOOD, Sarah Beth Durst

A bit of a guilty pleasure read, this fantasy series opener explores a world where the ruler of the realm must fight back malevolent natural forces.

AMBERLOUGH, Lara Donnelly

 CABARET the musical in novel form–this darkly beautiful story details the rise of facism in a fantasy world and how it impacts a colorful cast of miscreants.

THE ESSEX SERPENT, Sarah Perry

A beautiful and suspenseful tale of romance and loss in Victorian England, set again the backdrop of a hunt for a fantasy creature.

HILLBILLY ELEGY, J. D. Vance

  Both an autobiography and an attempt to explain the socioeconomic situation of Appalachian folks–but I’m conflicted on how much to buy into his arguments. Worth a read, though.

THE DIABOLIC, S. J. Kincaid

This story of a test-tube-grown bodyguard finding her humanity in a crumbling, corrupt space empire is the first YA sci-fi in a while that I didn’t hate!

BALLROOM DANCING IS NOT FOR SISSIES, Elizabeth & Arthur Seagull

Despite the sub-title, there is nothing R-rated about this how-to guide in balancing relationships and ballroom dancing.

DANCE WITH ME: BALLROOM DANCING AND THE PROMISE OF INSTANT INTIMACY, Julia Erickson

Despite the author’s obvious disdain for GLAMOUR ADDICTION (see Five Stars), this sociological analysis of studio ballroom culture lands on many of the same points as that other title, in addition to a hilariously accurate layout of the different performances of gender roles seen on the social dance floor.

THREE STAR

FOSSE, Sam Wasson

High on the drama and the page count, this biography of choreography legend Bob Fosse wastes no opportunity to dip into his sordid history and the seedy side of Broadway.

FUTURE HOME OF THE LIVING GOD, Lousie Erdrich

Despite its lovely prose, this novel doesn’t rise above the fact that it’s basically a less-good retelling of THE HANDMAID’S TALE.

MINDSET, Carol S. Dweck

My boss at my old job ‘suggested’ I read this. I remember nothing about it.

 THE MAD SCIENTIST’S GUIDE TO WORLD DOMINATION, Edited by John Joseph Adams

This collection of mad-science-themed short stories was sadly a mixed bag of quality–I loved one or two, barely finished others.

THE AERONAUT’S WINDLASS, Jim Butcher

A rollicking romp through a steampunk fantasy world, though I found the characters stock and the world forgettable. (The cat, though, is worth the price of admission alone.)

THE PALACE THIEF, Ethan Canin

Four not-particularly-memorable short stories concerning isolation and mid-century masculinity.

THREE DARK CROWNS, Kendare Blake

You’d think I’d have learned by now that YA fantasy does not float my boat, but, alas, I went into this tale of warring island factions and powerful queens-to-be expecting more than it delivered.

HOW TO BUILD A GIRL, Caitlin Moran

Sadly the details of this book have also faded, though I recall not understanding the nuances of British classism.

HEADS IN BEDS, Jacob Tomsky

A bit memoir, a bit how-to on cheating the hotel system of years gone by, a bit forgettable.

YOU’RE NEVER WEIRD ON THE INTERNET (ALMOST), Felicia Day

I’ve been a fan of Day since the Guild years, but this memoir suffers from the same problem as most of its internet-personality cohort–her story isn’t over, and the book feels unfinished.

JEROME ROBBINS: HIS LIFE, HIS THEATER, HIS DANCE, Deborah Jowitt

An interesting but dense biography of Broadway legend and second-fiddle-to-Balanchine Robbins. I was glad of the information, but am wary of glorifying a man who had a reputation as a tyrannical director.

DANCING OUT OF LINE: BALLROOMS, BALLETS, AND MOBILITY IN VICTORIAN FICTION AND CULTURE, Molly Engelhardt

Some interesting comparisons between Regency era and Victorian era social dance norms, but this book’s focus on dance depictions in time-period fiction did not hold my interest.

THE HOUSE OF GOD, Samuel Shem

A bizarre and polarizing account of the lives of medical residents in the 1970s that reads like a fever dream.

THEN WE CAME TO THE END, Joshua Ferris

I think this fictionalized account of office life was supposed to be equal parts pathos and satire, but I found it just vaguely sad and forgettable.

FROM BALLROOM TO DANCESPORT: AESTHETICS, ATHLETICS, AND BODY CULTURE, Caroline Picart

The author makes some interesting points about changes necessary to the DanceSport world in order for the sport’s inclusion in the Olympics, but the rest of the book is superseded by GLAMOUR ADDICTION (see Five Star).

AN EMBER IN THE ASHES, Sabaa Tahir

Again with the I-apparently-don’t-like-YA-Fantasy, and this one had the added bonus of being way too violent for my tastes.

THINKING WITH THE DANCING BRAIN, Sandra Minton

Neuroscience 101 for dancers–a nice refresher for me, but not much beyond that.

THE CROWN’S GAME, Evelyn Skye

Romance! Czarist Russia! Romance! Magic! Sadly I didn’t get into the relationship of the main characters.

TANGO AND THE POLITICAL ECONOMY OF PASSION, Marta E. Savigliano

This academic analysis of the history of tango and the socioeconomic forces at work during the dance’s creation had some interesting tid-bits, but I found it difficult to read and some stylistic choices hard to decipher.

TWO STAR

ZONE ONE, Colson Whitehead

I love zombie novels, but this one tries to be ‘litrary’ and cerebral and I just found it dull,  forgettable, and overly wordy.

THE ANUBIS GATES, Tim Powers

The cover of this absurdist time-traveling fantasy promises way more Ancient Egypt than I actually got. Crazy premise, idiotic characters, and only enough rollicking fun to laugh at.

YOU ARE A BADASS, Jen Sincero

For all its bluster and wanna-be subversiveness, BADASS is a pretty standard self-help book. Sadly I am one of the most self-motivated people I know, so the get-up-and-go was lost on me.

THE BLACK PRISM, Brent Weeks

The fascinating magic system was the only thing carrying me through this mess of unlikable characters and fantasy tropes.

ONE STAR

BALLROOM! OBSESSION AND PASSION INSIDE THE WORLD OF COMPETITIVE DANCE, Sharon Savoy

Never have I disagreed so completely with advice given and conclusions drawn as I did from those of professional-ballet-dancer-turned-cabaret-division-star Savoy. Want a rant? Ask me more.

  And that’s a wrap! If you made it all the way down here, thank you for reading, and may you have a wonderful New Year!

A Reading Re-cap: 2017 Hi Internet! It's that time of year again. I'm pleased to report that even with moving, traveling, and starting school again, I still managed to read 53 books in 2017.

[commissarraege]

A visit to a Trump "Campaign Rally" in Florida

I wanted to post this. I read it and it perfectly sums up, albeit in a more religious context, the evil we are facing. Please, read it. It plainly shows how this man brings out the worst in humanity. I encourage all to read this in its entirety and repost as much as humanly possible. Entire read from a one Joel Tooley on Trumps visit to Melbourne, FL--- "What I am about to write and what you are about to read may make some people very uncomfortable, if not angry. That is not my intention nor is it okay with me to cause anyone to stumble. That being said, what I experienced tonight was so dramatic that I cannot help but reflect on it and share what I experienced. A few days ago, people across the United States heard the news that our newly elected President would be visiting Melbourne, Florida – our hometown. It is no surprise to many that I do not support many of the objectives and "campaignisms" of Donald Trump. I know many people who voted for him - friends, family, church people who all voted for their own reasons. The point of this experience is not to relay all of the reasons why I think he should not be the president. Those points are moot – he IS our President. Now, I am enough of a sentimentalist that when I found out THEEEE President was coming to town, I got online quickly and reserved two tickets. The tickets were being given away by the Trump-Pence campaign; I found it odd that the tickets indicated that this was not a government/White House event & that this was a campaign event. I have, of course, posted a joking post about that earlier. What I discovered was that by hosting this as a campaign event, Mr. Trump could determine who was and was not allowed in the venue. If he came on an official visit, they could not prohibit anyone from entering and he couldn't sell his campaign merchandise. So, in essence, he was only allowing his supporters in the room. Well, with a few exceptions… I talked my 11-year-old daughter into coming with me. After all, how many times do you get to see the President of the United States in person – let alone in your hometown? I was eager for her to have this experience. It has to be a pretty cool thing, as a kid to see Air Force One, the President and the First Lady. The event started at 5 PM; we got in line at the venue shortly after 2 PM and the line was already pretty long. There are several mini stories to be told about that experience but don't need to be told for this post. Suffice it to say, it is always an intriguing sociological experience to be surrounded by people in line for something for which they are fanatics - whether it is for a movie premier, a live concert, the release of the latest beanie baby or Cabbage Patch kid. Fanatic people are fascinating to me. While I am not a fan of Trump, I certainly did not want to come across as a vigilante protester while standing amongst some of his most adoring fans. I truly wanted to see if what I was going to witness in person was any different than what I had observed on TV. The entry into the event was very impressive. I have always admired the professional posturing of the Secret Service, including those from our own local law-enforcement who were on duty serving in this capacity. These are women and men who should be highly commended for placing their lives on the line. We entered the venue at 3 PM, two hours before the event started. As we entered, everyone was being handed pom-poms and Trump campaign signs. The hosts made sure everyone had a sign in their hand. Someone shoved one into my hand and gave pom-poms to my daughter. I felt like a sheep in wolves clothing. Music was playing loudly throughout the venue as it filled up with hundreds of people. I would guess there were eventually at least 3000 people in the room. It was nowhere near full, but there certainly were a lot of people there. From my view, the crowd was 99.9% white folk. I did see a row of about 10-12 supporters who were black, wearing T-shirts that said, "Trump and Republicans are not racist" - they were positioned in the seating area directly behind the podium. We were about three rows of people from the very front and had a very good position to view the President and the platform. As people were coming in, there was a lot of excitement and a strong sense of patriotism. Approximately every 15 minutes, the music would be a little more enthusiastic and party-like. I posted my play-by-play feedback of "God bless the USA!" in an earlier post...it was almost church-like. People sang along, raising their hands and were emotionally moved by this anthem. It was intriguing to watch. People were being ushered into a deeply religious experience...and it made me completely uncomfortable. I love my country; I honor those who sacrificed their lives for our freedom and I respect our history and what we stand for, but what I experienced in that moment sent shivers down my spine. I felt like people were here to worship an ideology along with the man who was leading it. Don't get me wrong, it wasn't the song per se – it was this inexplicable movement that was happening in the room. It was a religious zeal. You might liken it to the experience fans would have after their favorite team won the Super Bowl – faces painted, banners flying, confetti in the air and celebrating. But this – this was deeper. A couple of local politicians got up to bring greetings followed by state representative, followed by one of our Congress representatives. A soloist sang, "God bless America" and there was a strong sense of patriotism in the room. A pastor got up to pray and repeatedly prayed throughout his prayer, "Thank you for making this the greatest nation on earth…in Jesus' name." Uh-uh. No. No way, josé. Pastor, this is not the greatest nation on earth. The greatest nation on earth does not exist. Are we a great nation? Definitely. But there are many other great nations as well. Pastor, you have your eyes on a different kind of "greatness" and certainly a different kind of kingdom. Shame on you for praying those words in Jesus' name! Suddenly, the music changed from the pep rally theme to something that seemed more Star Wars themed. The crowd went crazy and turned towards the opening of the airplane hangar that was the venue, just as Air Force One pulled up. What a magnificent sight! That enormous airliner is absolutely breathtaking. The crowd was going wild; signs waving in the air, people cheering, and every cell phone was positioned to take photos and video. As the First Lady and the President emerged at the top of the stairs, the air was electric! It really is a magnificent image to see in person! As they entered the venue and walked to the platform, there was terrific celebration. I have been in the room when other Presidents were in a similar mode – it is always such a meaningful experience to be that close to them, regardless of whether or not you view them with adoration. Theeeee President of the USA! The First Lady approached the platform and in her rich accent, began to recite the Lord's prayer. I can't explain it, but I felt sick. This wasn't a prayer beseeching the presence of Almighty God, it felt theatrical and manipulative. People across the room were reciting it as if it were a pep squad cheer. At the close of the prayer, the room erupted in cheering. It was so uncomfortable. I observed that Mr. Trump did not recite the prayer until the very last line, "be the glory forever and ever, amen!" As he raised his hands in the air, evoking a cheer from the crowd, "USA! USA! USA!" Just as the President begin to speak, a short grandmotherly lady in front of us asked me if I would help hold her walker – the kind that has a seat built into it. She said, "I need to climb up on it and hold something up." Such an odd request at such an odd place at such an odd time. So, I helped her. She held a pillowcase that had something written on the front of it, words I could not see. She climbed up onto the seat, wobbly-legged and held the sign up above her head. People in front of her turned around and started jeering and yelling at her. After holding her sign up for about 10 seconds, she climbed back down and thanked me. I asked her what her sign said – it read, "You had your chance, now resign!" The very first words out of the President's mouth were the words of a bully. That is not simply one person's perspective, it is factual. He immediately began badgering and criticizing the media; like a bully inciting a crowd. Now, do I think the media needs to be held to a high standard and be able to be held accountable? Absolutely! The media as a whole has become sadly non-journalistic and more entertainment, in my opinion. Call it what you will, but I was completely dumbfounded as the most powerful leader in the world began his speech by badgering the media. The crowd began screaming angrily at the entire press corps that was present. He could have said something inspiring and worthy of a Tweet or Facebook post, instead he emerged as an overly powerful bully. Literally, everything that he began speaking about evoked this angry response from the crowd. Immediately following the words of prayer that Jesus taught his followers… It was then that I heard two ladies off to my left chanting, not yelling or screaming but chanting, "T-R....U-M-P; that's how you spell - bigotry!" They repeated the rhyme over and over. Two ladies in front of them began seething and screaming in their face while shaking their Trump signs at them. Another couple standing behind them started screaming at them as well. One of the chanting ladies had her eight-year-old daughter on her back; the other had a severely disabled child in a wheelchair in front of her. As they continued chanting, the people around them became violently enraged. One angry man grabbed the lady's arm - that's when I went into action. I barged through the crowd and yelled at them to back off. My heart wasn't racing; I just instinctively became a protector. I didn't actually want a Trump sign, but one of the volunteers had shoved it into my hands as I walked through the door earlier; "Make America Great Again!" That sign probably saved someone from getting hurt. I held the sign close to my chest as I positioned myself between the chanting protesters and the angry mob. My 11-year-old daughter was clinging to my arm, sobbing in fear. The two angry, screaming ladies looked at me, both of them raised their middle finger at me in my face and repeatedly yelled, "F*#% YOU!" Repeatedly. I calmly responded, "No thank you, I'm happily married." Their faces and their voices were filled with demonic anger. I have been in places and experiences before where demonic activity was palpable. The power of the Holy Spirit of God was protecting me in those moments and was once again protecting me and my daughter in this moment. I raised my voice and calmly said, "These ladies have the right to do what they are doing and they are harming no one; this is America and they a right to express themselves in this way. They are harming no one." A couple of other people around me stepped in and supported me in protecting them as a barrier, as well. My daughter was shaking in fear as she clung to me. The one man behind the protesters shoved himself forward, grabbed the lady by the arm and screamed with multiple expletives, "I'm going to take you out! This is my president and nobody has the right to disrespect him and nobody has the right to keep me from hearing him!" I wish I could have captured the expressions of that man on camera. I will never forget him. The little girl on her mother's back was crying, completely frightened. I leaned forward and reassured her in her ear, "Your mommy is being brave and we will not let these people hurt you. You are afraid because these are angry, awful people. We will not let them hurt you or your mommy. You are being so brave and your mommy is doing something very brave." That's when another lady screamed in my face that what I was doing was un-American. I just chuckled and responded, "What I am doing is completely American – I'm standing up for people who are being bullied – it doesn't matter if I agree with them or not. You came here to see the President, now ignore these ladies, turn around and enjoy the show." Without explanation, they calm down and turned around to hear what Trump had to say. The two protesters then moved towards the back and left the building. I got a couple of high-fives and "thanks for stepping up for them" from bystanders . I wanted to say, "Thanks. Where were you when the the demons were screaming and fists were getting ready to start swinging?" Once again, the environment reminded me of some church experiences I've had. Bystanders. I have no clue what Trump was saying at that point – draining the swamp, vetting refugees, and other things. Oh yeah, I heard people chanting, "Build that wall, build that wall!" I realized then that we were not listening to someone presidential, we were listening to someone terribly powerful. My kid was shaken - she had just seen some of the worst of humanity. We edged ourselves away from the front of the room to the opening of the hangar so we could get a clearer picture of Air Force One. I wanted to give her at least one positive presidential memory. The crowd was much thinner at the back of the room, people were leaving by the hundreds. Outside, there were two jumbotrons set up for a potential overflow – there really wasn't a need for them. There were maybe a couple of hundred people outside watching on the big screens. Not too far behind that group was a large group of protesters. Inside, Trump had rallied the group by giving a little bit of attention to the "paid protesters outside." Now, I can't speak for all of them, but I asked a few where they were from and why they were there - every single one of them were from different cities in Florida and could quickly articulate why they were there. They were not paid protesters – not the ones I spoke with. I'm trying to separate how I actually feel about this man and his campaignisms. I know why people voted for him; I know why people voted against his opponent. But, at the end of the day, what I felt from his leadership in this experience was actually horrifying. There was palpable fear in the room. There was thick anger and vengeance. He was counting on it. I don't think I'm exaggerating when I say that it would not have taken very much for him to have called this group of people into some kind of riotous reaction. Now, not everyone in the room was a part of the angry mob mentality – I looked around the room and saw many people who could quite easily be folks from my neighborhood, folks from my church, folks who were planning to go grab a bite to eat at Cracker Barrel afterwards. Folks who truly wanted to see America "great." The people who support the Republican Party want to see some needed changes in the government – the people that were there for that reason, are by and large good folks. But those are not the people the President was inciting – they are not the people he was leading. He was rallying the angry, vigilant ones. As we began to leave, I knew my daughter could not possibly care less about Air Force One or the fact that she saw the President of the United States and his wife, in the flesh. I truly had hoped that she could have had that sentimental experience. What she WILL remember is the angry, violent man screaming demonic vitriol at a child and her mother. She will remember the two ladies screaming at her Dad, her pastor – flipping the middle finger and using the F word repeatedly. Now, I know there are people who are convinced that I am jaded and cannot fairly give this man a fair chance. Perhaps that's true. But please remember, especially those of you who know me well, I am a student of culture and human behavior. I am not a stubborn, close minded individual who likes to stick to the status quo. I know there are people who long for me to see the good things about this President and to talk about THOSE things. I know there are people who want me to realize that not everything he is doing is bad and that every President has their strengths and weaknesses and… I know there are people who, when they see these words and hear my thoughts will feel badly because perhaps they can't like me as much as they once did because they don't agree with me. They want me to like the President that they like – they want me to see him the way they see him. I'm sorry. I cannot. You see, the angry, F-word-spewing man is what has been depended on throughout this campaign and is the one who is still being counted on to sustain the message. I tried. As we left the room, these words were echoing in my mind, "Our Father, who art in heaven, Hallowed be Thy name. Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done..." At the end of the day, I'm a citizen of a nation - I have a leader who God is very aware and who has tremendous responsibilities. I MUST and will pray for him. I'm a citizen of this world and I must continue to see beyond my own limited world view to seek ways to obediently serve Christ. But greater still, I am a citizen of a different kind of Kingdom - the Kingdom that strives for peace, mercy, kindness and a love-relationship with the King of kings. May God have mercy on me."