#not just in the U.S. but across the 'western' world

[la0hu]

so many tiktok memes are insanely misogynistic but steeped in juuuuuust enough post-post-post irony for all these chronically online women to plead the fifth. "girl dinner." "i'm just a girl (in the world, that's all i'll ever be)." and now this "very demure" thing. like regardless of how self-aware, sarcastic, or genuinely critical of antifeminism the source material is, somehow these memed phrases become tools to reinforce the idea that women are delicate, soft, helpless, brainless, small creatures not worth taking seriously. that's how they're used. that's what the punchline always becomes. it's all so coquette adjacent, which is just repackaged white supremacist radfem trad wifery. even the whole "brat summer" thing is starting to become grating. i'd actually prefer someone called me a bitch rather than a brat, because at least a bitch sounds like she could actually do something, like she still has teeth

[zvaigzdelasas]

Major coordinated demonstrations took place across the world on Saturday to mark the 100th day of Israel's bombardment and military assault on the people of the Gaza Strip that have now claimed the lives of nearly 24,000 Palestinians, a large majority of them innocent men, women, and children who had nothing to do with the attacks orchestrated by Hamas on October 7 of last year.

In London, as many as 500,000 people marched on Parliament Square to demand an immediate cease-fire Gaza, condemn their own U.K. government's support of Israel's disproportionate and "genocidal" onslaught, and warn against a wider regional war that experts warn is creeping closer by the day.[...]

In Dublin, organizers of a march that saw more than 100,000 march through city streets called it the largest rally for Palestinian rights in Irish history.[...]

The crowd was filled with Palestinian flags, posters calling for an "End to the Gaza genocide" as well as makeshift washing lines, with baby clothes hanging from it, representing the many young lives lost in the conflict.

At the front of the march, four people held mock corpses in bloody body bags to represent the growing number of civilian casualties.

In the United States, tens of thousands marched in Washington, D.C. to denounce the Israeli onslaught—which has claimed over 23,000 lives, including more than 10,000 children—as well as their own government's complicity in the carnage. President Joe Biden was on the tip of many demonstrators' tongues and polls in the U.S. have shown very little support across the political spectrum for how he is handling the situation.[...]

Following the march, demonstrators left a pile of bloodied baby dolls, including severe parts, in a pile outside the White House as a message to Biden. "The blood of the over 10,000 murdered children in Gaza is on his hands," said CodePink co-founder Jodie Evans.

Meanwhile, in Indonesia, thousands gathered outside the U.S. embassy in Jakarta to condemn the ongoing "genocide" in Gaza perpetrated by Israel with the backing of the U.S. government and other Western allies.

Large protests were also held in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia as well as in the South African cities of Cape Town and Johannesburg. [...]

Cities in Israel were not among those holding large-scale demonstrations against the government's ongoing military campaign in Gaza. One application by Israelis for a rally in Haifa to denounce the onslaught was rejected.

13 Jan 24

[reasonsforhope]

"Nasir Mansoor has spent 40 years fighting for Pakistan’s workers. Whether demanding compensation on behalf of the hundreds of people who died in a devastating 2012 factory fire in Karachi or demonstrating against Pakistani suppliers to global fashion brands violating minimum wage rules, he’s battled many of the country’s widespread labor injustices.

Yet so far, little has improved, said Mansoor, who heads Pakistan’s National Trade Union Federation in Karachi... Regulations and trade protocols look good on paper, but they rarely trickle down to the factory level. “Nobody cares,” Mansoor said. “Not the government who makes commitments, not the brands, and not the suppliers. The workers are suffering.”

Change on the Horizon

But change might finally be on the horizon after Germany’s new Supply Chain Act came into force last year. As Europe’s largest economy and importer of clothing, Germany now requires certain companies to put risk-management systems in place to prevent, minimize, and eliminate human rights violations for workers across their entire global value chains. Signed into law by German Chancellor Olaf Scholz in January 2023, the law covers issues such as forced labor, union-busting, and inadequate wages, for the first time giving legal power to protections that were previously based on voluntary commitments. Companies that violate the rules face fines of up to 8 million euros ($8.7 million)...

...As governments come to realize that a purely voluntary regimen produces limited results, there is now a growing global movement to ensure that companies are legally required to protect the people working at all stages of their supply chains.

The German law is just the latest example of these new due diligence rules—and it’s the one with the highest impact, given the size of the country’s market. A number of other Western countries have also adopted similar legislation in recent years, including France and Norway. A landmark European Union law that would mandate all member states to implement similar regulation is in the final stages of being greenlighted.

Although the United States has legislation to prevent forced labor in its global supply chains, such as the 2021 Uyghur Forced Labor Prevention Act, there are no federal laws that protect workers in other countries from abuses that fall short of forced labor. That said, a proposed New York state bill, the Fashion Act, would legally require most major U.S. and international brands to identify, prevent, and remediate human rights violations in their supply chain if passed, with noncompliance subject to fines. Since major fashion brands could hardly avoid selling their products in New York, the law would effectively put the United States on a similar legal level as Germany and France...

The Results So Far

As of January, Germany’s new law applies to any company with at least 1,000 employees in the country, which covers many of the world’s best-known fast fashion retailers, such as Zara and Primark. Since last January [Jan 2023], German authorities say they have received 71 complaints or notices of violations and conducted 650 of their own assessments, including evaluating companies’ risk management.

In Pakistan, the very existence of the German law was enough to spark action. Last year, Mansoor and other union representatives reached out to fashion brands that sourced some of their clothing in Pakistan to raise concerns about severe labor violations in garment factories. Just four months later, he and his colleagues found themselves in face-to-face meetings with several of those brands—a first in his 40-year career. “This is a big achievement,” he said. “Otherwise, [the brands] never sit with us. Even when the workers died in the factory fire, the brand never sat with us.” ...

-via The Fuller Project, April 2, 2024. Article headers added by me.

Article continues below, with more action-based results, including one factory that "complied, agreeing to respect minimum wages and provide contract letters, training on labor laws, and—for the first time—worker bonuses"

With the help of Mansoor and Zehra Khan, the general secretary of the Home-Based Women Workers Federation, interviews with more than 350 garment workers revealed the severity of long-known issues.

Nearly all workers interviewed were paid less than a living wage, which was 67,200 Pakistan rupees (roughly $243) per month in 2022, according to the Asia Floor Wage Alliance. Nearly 30 percent were even paid below the legal minimum wage of 25,000 Pakistani rupees per month (roughly $90) for unskilled workers. Almost 100 percent had not been given a written employment contract, while more than three-quarters were either not registered with the social security system—a legal requirement—or didn’t know if they were.

When Mansoor, Khan, and some of the organizations raised the violations with seven global fashion brands implicated, they were pleasantly surprised. One German retailer reacted swiftly, asking its supplier where the violations had occurred to sign a 14-point memorandum of understanding to address the issues. (We’re unable to name the companies involved because negotiations are ongoing.) The factory complied, agreeing to respect minimum wages and provide contract letters, training on labor laws, and—for the first time—worker bonuses.

In February [2024], the factory registered an additional 400 workers with the social security system (up from roughly 100) and will continue to enroll more, according to Khan. “That is a huge number for us,” she said.

It’s had a knock-on effect, too. Four of the German brand’s other Pakistani suppliers are also willing to sign the memorandum, Khan noted, which could impact another 2,000 workers or so. “The law is opening up space for [the unions] to negotiate, to be heard, and to be taken seriously,” said Miriam Saage-Maass, the legal director at ECCHR.

Looking Forward with the EU

...Last month [in March 2024], EU member states finally approved a due diligence directive after long delays, during which the original draft was watered down. As it moves to the next stage—a vote in the European Parliament—before taking effect, critics argue that the rules are now too diluted and cover too few companies to be truly effective. Still, the fact that the EU is acting at all has been described as an important moment, and unionists such as Mansoor and Khan wait thousands of miles away with bated breath for the final outcome.

Solidarity from Europe is important, Khan said, and could change the lives of Pakistan’s workers. “The eyes and the ears of the people are looking to [the brands],” Mansoor said. “And they are being made accountable for their mistakes.”"

-via The Fuller Project, April 2, 2024. Article headers added by me.

[theconstitutionisgayculture]

Soon after my arrival at the Transgender Center, I was struck by the lack of formal protocols for treatment. The center’s physician co-directors were essentially the sole authority.

At first, the patient population was tipped toward what used to be the “traditional” instance of a child with gender dysphoria: a boy, often quite young, who wanted to present as—who wanted to be—a girl. 

Until 2015 or so, a very small number of these boys comprised the population of pediatric gender dysphoria cases. Then, across the Western world, there began to be a dramatic increase in a new population: Teenage girls, many with no previous history of gender distress, suddenly declared they were transgender and demanded immediate treatment with testosterone. 

I certainly saw this at the center. One of my jobs was to do intake for new patients and their families. When I started there were probably 10 such calls a month. When I left there were 50, and about 70 percent of the new patients were girls. Sometimes clusters of girls arrived from the same high school. 

This concerned me, but didn’t feel I was in the position to sound some kind of alarm back then. There was a team of about eight of us, and only one other person brought up the kinds of questions I had. Anyone who raised doubts ran the risk of being called a transphobe. 

The girls who came to us had many comorbidities: depression, anxiety, ADHD, eating disorders, obesity. Many were diagnosed with autism, or had autism-like symptoms. A report last year on a British pediatric transgender center found that about one-third of the patients referred there were on the autism spectrum.

Frequently, our patients declared they had disorders that no one believed they had. We had patients who said they had Tourette syndrome (but they didn’t); that they had tic disorders (but they didn’t); that they had multiple personalities (but they didn’t). 

The doctors privately recognized these false self-diagnoses as a manifestation of social contagion. They even acknowledged that suicide has an element of social contagion. But when I said the clusters of girls streaming into our service looked as if their gender issues might be a manifestation of social contagion, the doctors said gender identity reflected something innate.

To begin transitioning, the girls needed a letter of support from a therapist—usually one we recommended—who they had to see only once or twice for the green light. To make it more efficient for the therapists, we offered them a template for how to write a letter in support of transition. The next stop was a single visit to the endocrinologist for a testosterone prescription. 

That’s all it took. 

Archive here

Read this whole thing. What I quoted is just the tip of the iceberg. We were right about everything.

[republicansaredomesticterrorists]

These MAGAts were once conservatives who despised Russia and now they want to fellate Trump and Putin.

NATO isn’t just a defensive alliance, these are major trading partners and allies on a host of issues linked to preserving geopolitical stability and general world order, the rule of law.

Ukraine isn’t a member of NATO but wants to join. Some of you may question supporting Ukraine or even say it’s race based. Ukraine serves as a buffer between our western allies and our greatest geopolitical rival, Russia. More importantly Ukraine is one of the world’s largest suppliers of wheat and more to the point the largest individual supplier to the third world. If Russia were to knock out Ukraine there would be widespread famine across Asia, Africa, and the Middle East. Accompanying this would be worldwide trade disruption and more than likely a worldwide depression leading to more wars over resources and trade.

Demagogues like Trump know very little about what they are pontificating on. He has no knowledge of the big picture. Businessmen who enter politics rarely do. It’s not as simplistic as a family business (the Trump Organization) with a balance sheet. World affairs are 4-D chess with countless intertwined variables. Trump repeatedly shows how he doesn’t have a clue about how NATO operates no matter how many times it’s explained to him by policy advisers, the press, and world leaders. He refers to NATO members as being delinquent or in default which is simply not true. They haven’t borrowed money from anyone nor do they owe NATO. Each member voluntary pledges to spend 2% of GDP on defense *if it is economically possible at the time. It’s not carved in stone and is written as an aspirational goal only. The US does not have to pay more if another country isn’t able to spend 2% on itself in any given year. Further NATO members have standardized military equipment, much of which is purchased from the US. If a country is removed from NATO then they won’t be purchasing as much or at all from US defense contractors and our economy would take a big negative hit.

Republicans have been fed lies about NATO since Trump’s run for office started in 2015. Germany is a major player in NATO. Trump and the American far-right NAZI movement have long despised German politicians, like Merkel for example, for their suppression of Nazism since the end of the 2nd World War. These same far-right Neo-Nazi Republicans have also been fed a steady diet of lies about how unfair it is that the US, in their eyes unfairly, over pays the UN and they have been told to equate this to NATO which has a completely different structure and purpose. Neo-Nazi’s have a million and one bizarre conspiracy theories about the UN and now Trump MAGAts have linked this to our greatest ally NATO. One could write a book on the far-rights conspiracy theories about the UN which include replacing white people, secret governing societies, alien overlords, transfer of wealth to the 3rd world, forced same sex marriages, sterilization, UN military takeover of the U.S.,etc.

Threatening to surrender our NATO allies to Russia and/or withdrawing from NATO are the ramblings of a poorly educated, uninformed, lunatic who has no clue about foreign policy. The resulting worldwide chaos and economic collapse that would follow would cost a million times more than the pitiful few dollars MAGA morons think it would save. Try getting favorable trade deals from a resulting hostile European Union after you signed their collective death warrants.

[mariacallous]

From Taiwan and Finland in January to Croatia and Ghana in December, one of the largest combined electorates in history will vote for new governments in 2024. This should be a cause of celebration and a vindication of the power of the ballot box. Yet this coming year is likely to see one of the starkest erosions of liberal democracy since the end of the Cold War. At their worst, the overall results could end up as a bloodbath or, marginally less bleakly, as a series of setbacks.

At first glance, the stats are impressive. Forty national elections will take place, representing 41 percent of the world’s population and 42 percent of its gross domestic product. Some will be more consequential than others. Some will be more unpredictable than others. (You can strike Russia and Belarus from that list.) One or two may produce uplifting results.

However, in the United States and Europe, the two regions that are the cradles of democracy—or at least, that used to project themselves as such—the year ahead is set to be bracing.

It is no exaggeration to say that the structures established after World War II, and which have underpinned the Western world for eight decades, will be under threat if former U.S. President Donald Trump wins a second term in November. Whereas his first period in the White House might be regarded as a psychodrama, culminating in the paramilitary assault on Congress shortly after his defeat, this time around, his menace will be far more professional and penetrating.

European diplomats in Washington fear a multiplicity of threats—the imposition of blanket tariffs, also known as a trade war; the sacking of thousands of public officials and their replacement with politicized loyalists; and the withdrawal of remaining support for Ukraine and the undermining of NATO. For Russian President Vladimir Putin, the return of Trump would be manna from heaven. Expect some form of provocation from the Kremlin in the Baltic states or another state bordering Russia to test the strength of Article 5, the mutual defense clause of the Western alliance.

More broadly, a Trump victory would arguably mark the final dismantling of the credibility of Western liberal democracies. From India to South Africa and from Brazil to Indonesia, countries variously called middle powers, pivot countries, multi-aligned states—or, now less fashionably, the global south—will continue the trend of picking and choosing their alliances, seeing moral equivalence in the competitive bids on offer.

The greatest effect that a Trump return could have would be on Europe, accelerating the onward march of the alt right or far right across the continent. Yet that trend will have gained momentum long before Americans go to the polls. French President Emmanuel Macron and German Chancellor Olaf Scholz are looking over their shoulders as the second wave of populism affects the conduct of government.

The wedge issue that is threatening all moderate parties is immigration, just as it did in 2015, when former German Chancellor Angela Merkel allowed in more than 1 million refugees from the Middle East in what is now seen as the first wave of Europe’s immigration crisis. This time around, the arguments propagated by the AfD (the far-right Alternative for Germany party), Marine Le Pen’s National Rally in France, and similar groups across the continent have permeated the political mainstream.

The past 12 months have seen European Union decision-making constantly undermined by Prime Minister Viktor Orban in Hungary, particularly further support for Ukraine. For the moment, he stands alone, but he is likely to be joined by others, starting with the newly returned Prime Minister Robert Fico in Slovakia. Italian Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni has struck a tacit deal with Brussels, remaining loyal on supporting Ukraine (against her instincts and previous statements) in return for effectively being given carte blanche in Italy’s domestic politics.

In September, Austria seems almost certain to vote in a coalition of the far right and the conservatives. A country that has (ever since the withdrawal of Soviet forces in 1955) prized its neutrality and been keen to ingratiate itself with Moscow has already been uncomfortable giving full-scale support to Kyiv. We can expect that support to soon be scaled back.

One of the few countries with a center-left administration, Portugal, will see it join the pack of the right and far right when snap elections are held in March. The previous incumbent, the Socialist Party’s outgoing Prime Minister Antonio Costa, was forced to quit amid a corruption investigation.

The most explosive moment is likely to occur in June, with the elections to the European Parliament. This reshuffling of the Euro-pack, which happens once every four years, was always seen in the United Kingdom as an opportunity to behave even more frivolously than usual. In 2014, the British electorate, in its inestimable wisdom, put Nigel Farage and his U.K. Independence Party in first place, setting in train a series of events that, two years later, led to the referendum to leave the EU.

Having seen the damage wrought by Brexit, voters in the remaining 27 EU member states are not angling for their countries to go it alone. However, many will use the opportunity to express their antipathy to mainstream politics by opting for a populist alternative. Some might see it as a low-risk option, believing that the European parliament does not count for much.

In so doing, they would be deluding themselves. It is entirely possible that the various forces of the far right could emerge as the single biggest bloc. This might not lead to a change in the composition of the European Commission (the diminished mainstream groupings would still collectively hold a majority), but any such extremist upsurge will change the overall dynamics across Europe.

Far-right parties in charge of governments will see themselves emboldened to pursue ever more radical nativist policies. In countries in where they are junior members of ruling coalitions (such as in Sweden), they will apply further pressure on their more mainstream conservative partners to move in their direction.

Conversely, countries that saw a surprising resurgence of the mainstream in national elections this year are unlikely to see that trend maintained. Spanish Prime Minister Pedro Sánchez’s success in staving off the right was achieved only by cutting a deal with Catalan separatists. This led to protests by Spanish nationalists and a situation that is anything but stable.

Prime Minister Donald Tusk’s victory in Poland was at least as remarkable because the far-right Law and Justice party (PiS) government had used its years in government to try to skew the media and the courts in its direction. Expect PiS gains in June.

The most alarming result of 2023 was the return to prominence, and the verge of power, of Geert Wilders. The Dutch elections provide a how-not-to guide for mainstream politicians. The willingness of the center-right party of the outgoing Prime Minister Mark Rutte to contemplate a coalition with Wilders’s Party for Freedom emboldened many voters who had assumed their vote would be disregarded.

In Europe’s biggest economy, Germany, the so-called firewall established by the main parties to refuse to govern with the AfD is beginning to fray. Already, the conservative Christian Democratic Union (CDU) is working with them in small municipalities. Friedrich Merz, the CDU leader, has dropped hints that such an option might not be out of the question at the regional level.

If the AfD gains the largest number of seats in the June European Parliament elections (opinion polls currently put it only marginally behind the CDU and ahead of all three parties in Scholz’s so-called traffic light coalition), then the momentum will change rapidly. It could go on to win three of the states in the former communist east—Thuringia, Saxony, and Brandenburg—next autumn. Germany would enter unchartered territory.

These dire predictions could end up being overblown. Mainstream parties in several countries may defy the doom merchants and emerge less badly than forecast. Given recent trends, however, optimism is thin on the ground.

There is one election, however, due to take place in the latter part of 2024 that could produce not just a centrist outcome, but one with a strong majority in its parliament. Britain, the country that left the heart of Europe, the island that until recently was run by a clown, could emerge as the lodestar for modern social democracy. The irony would be lost on no one.

[rebel-girl-queen-of-my-world]

“Making Jewish people the face of the US-Israel war machine is dangerous. The far right is rising all around the world, and with it, a real and violent threat against Jewish people, but rather than talking about or working together to defeat fascism and injustice everywhere, western states are mis-defining antisemitism to justify ongoing genocide.” — Stefanie Fox

JVP’s Executive Director, Stefanie Fox, spoke to the @unitednations this week where she conveyed the urgent need to withstand the U.S. campaign of repression aimed at silencing, criminalizing, and crushing the movement for Palestinian freedom.

Her address comes at a moment in which militarized police target and brutalize hundreds of anti-Zionist Jews alongside their Palestinian classmates across student encampments. Encampments where Jewish students led shabbat services and passover seders, and countless young Jews have never felt more Jewish than while participating in the pro-Palestine multifaith, multiracial community committed to justice for all people.

Repressing the movement for Palestinian liberation is a perilous path that paves the way for authoritarian policies, undermines democratic rights, and closes the space for civil society worldwide.

In the words of Dalia Darazim of @sjp.columbia who also testified, “Our battle ultimately is not with university administrators. It is with the entire imperial core. The crackdown on college campuses is just one symptom of the colonial violence that will continue as long as the Zionist occupation over Palestine persists. We know our universities are just one front in this battle for liberation and they are a crucial reminder that none of us are truly free until Palestine is free.”

Watch the full panel at the link in our bio or at https://www.jadaliyya.com/Details/46089

[rotzaprachim]

let’s talk genocide denial!!! I’ve been seeing a Lot of it and it’s very infuriating on all fronts, especially when we are facing situations with multiple genocides at play! For ref, I am not indigenous to turtle island, I am a Tagalog Jew! 1) people refusing to recognize the nakba and the state of Israel’s long-form treatment of Palestine as a form of genocide because “there are more of them now!!!” Genocide is not solely a matter of “numbers” of people alive but also the purposeful destruction of peoples and cultures, as has been enacted against Palestine. 2) this is a complex one but…. Importation of discourses of originalism and indigeneity to middle eastern and Eastern European cultural contexts where they don’t belong. While pretty straightforward on turtle island, the constant flow of people into and out of these regions has meant many groups of people have lived in the same places for hundreds or thousands of years. The claim of “certain” groups of people as being invaders or recent “imports” has been a central aspect of the justification of deportation and genocide across EE and SWANA regions. This includes Jews across Eastern Europe (middle eastern invaders!!!) Palestinians in Palestine (Arab or greek invaders!!!) Armenians everywhere (Christian invaders!!!!) Greeks in Turkey and Egypt, Bosnians in Bosnia-Herzegovina (Turkish invaders!!!) and so forth. Don’t adopt these discourses. 3) point blank labeling of antisemitism as something *fake* the Jews control. *antisemitism*

4) refusal to reckon with the extent of the Shoah and intergenerational traumas and realities of the Shoah (like other genocides.) a genocide affects not only the survivors but their descendants. I’m seeing a lot of people acting like Zionism is a particularly evil ideology the Jews cooked up and then brainwashed other Jews into believing and then everyone chose to move to Israel instead of continue living in their nice cosy Yiddish bund homeland, and that removes the goysiche agency from the story. The Shoah outright obliterated the Jewish homelands and cultural areas Jews had been living in across Europe, and any genuine antizionism or diasporism NEEDS TO LOOK that history right in the face rather than sweeping it under the rug. It NEEDS to reckon with why so many Jews came to believe that they could no longer live outside of their own state because the goyishe world told them with blood that they could no longer live outside of their own state. It also needs to deal with the fact mass numbers of Jews were pretty unceremoniously dumped from DP camps to the state of Israel after the war was over. Genocides affect the survivors for generations, including where they live. 4) refusal to recognize antisemitism in the Arab world or the contexts which forced middle eastern Jews from their homelands and into the state of Israel. Oh it must be /their fault./ see above, no effective antizionism without reckoning with these histories.

5) tankies. There’s just been a mass platforming of tankies recently and many of them engage in genocide apologism or outright denial, especially of the holodomor. Others whitewash the policies of forced cultural assimilation or land dislocation undertaken by the USSR as “necessary anti-conservative revolutionary action against reactionaries.” I don’t care what their *good stances* are, we should not platform outright genocide deniers even if they can *justify* mass killings by means of political ideologies. These ideas include the idea that any discussion of governmental violence or genocide by a non U.S.-aligned state is a western psyop invented by the U.S., and they include not only historic genocides (although as discussed, genocides are not solely “historic” in the sense they continue to affect survivors and their children for generations) but current and ongoing violence against Uighur, Kurdish, Ukrainian, and Tibetan people.

5) anti indigenous racism in turtle island. Also a complex one as I don’t want to engage in whataboutism, but a lotttt of the jokes about *just send the Israelis to New Jersey/New York/Florida* ignore the fact that New Jersey, New York, and Florida are also settler colonies and indigenous homelands. A lot of the discussion of IL by white settlers has revealed the extent that they do not view themselves as white settlers, nor do they really understand native peoples and First Nations continue to exist. “I’d let Native American Hamas kill me and it would be awesome!!!!” Well there is no Native American Hamas, but there might be a tribe in your area that needs money for new kindergarten chairs or support for landback, so you shouldn’t treat them as a vaguely existent hypothetical.

6) reimposition of the colonial notion of one land for one ethnic group with one language and only one language that can be applied to place names. Even if this is in a *decolonial* sense for one area it’s still very dangerous logic to play with, especially with the ethnic diversity of much of the world. The idea of inherent primacy of one ethnic group over another in the post colonial era has been at the root of many mass killings.

7) labeling a language as “evil” or “untrustworthy”

8) I shouldn’t have to tell you why the idea that “there are no civilians” is very bad in literally any case

[buzzdixonwriter]

No More Old White Men For President

I think we’ve seen the last of old white men as political leaders for this century. 

Not saying there won’t be old political leaders.

Not saying there won’t be white political leaders.

Not saying there won’t be male political leaders.

Just saying we’re not going to see any combinations of all three (maybe two of three provided the politician is really good at their job).

Good.

As a distinct subset, old white men have never been the majority in this country.  They wielded their unearned status over women and minorities and younger people to leverage power and control for hundreds of years.

But that was then, this is now.  A hundred  years ago the country was almost ninety percent white; in less than twenty-five years current demographic projections will reduce that to just under fifty percent, making whites the largest minority in a country made up of minorities, but a minority nonetheless.

Good.

Right now, whites are no longer effectively a majority in the U.S.  Including people of mixed ancestry who identify as white, only seventy-one percent of the country is white.

When persons of mixed ancestry are taken out of the mix, that number today drops to less than sixty-two percent.

The cause of this precipitous drop in the white population? 

The whites’ own pernicious “one drop rule” that goes all the way back to the earliest colonial era.

As demonstrated by the fabled “lost colony” of Roanoke, white English colonists in the new world felt no particular attachment to their home culture across the Atlantic and when treated shabbily by their absentee masters back in merrie olde England were perfectly capable of defecting to one of the local Native American tribes.

Realizing they couldn’t force indentured servants to work like slaves, the landed gentry began importing actual slaves from Africa.  Unlike the indentured servants who colonized America, the enslaved Africans faced perpetual chattel slavery with their children born into slavery as well.

Small wonder many of them sought escape to the west where they could be adopted and accepted by local tribes.

Add to this various frontiersmen willing to intermarry with Native Americans -- not to mention the countless number of half-white children born into slavery after white slaveowners raped their mothers -- and whites in American -- particularly that entitled white gentry class -- sought to exclude as many people as possible from the body politic by claiming one drop of non-white blood meant that person by legal definition was non-white.

Don’t listen to the malignant MAGA nonsense; identity politics were created by white men for the protection and preservation of white men.

In the beginning, “white” applied only to those of English or Northern / Western European descent. 

Jewish people, no matter where they came from, weren’t accepted as “really” white.  The Irish and Italians were viewed as subhuman thugs.  A select few French, German, Scandinavian, and some upper crust Spaniards and Slavs were allowed in the white man’s world, but most Eastern Europeans, Middle Easterners, and all Asians were excluded.

…that is, until the number of white people in America began declining, then suddenly previous barriers held against the Irish, Italians, and Eastern Europeans dropped in order to reinforce white ranks.

But to this day Latin Americans, African-Americans, Middle Easterners, and Asians are kept outside the old white men’s circle of power.

Oh, a few token representatives are allowed in:  Fetching females who parrot what the old men want to hear, sociopathic opportunists of all kinds willing to make a buck by selling out others like them, etc.

But by excluding all those tainted by so much as “one drop” of Native American, African-American, Middle Eastern or Asian heritage, selfish old power hungry white men hoped to concentrate all the benefits of citizenship on themselves alone.

Well, that didn’t last long.  First African-Americans were freed, then women got to vote, then laws forbidding Asians from being American citizens were struck down, and finally laws against miscegenation were abolished.

The latter meant a lot of people now claimed membership in two subsets of American, the traditional pure white stain [sic!] and something else.

This results in bizarrely arcane rules and regulations, as well as increasingly paradoxical cultural standing.  A single “full blooded” Native American great-great-grandparent enables one to claim membership in that tribe, a tall kid without a noticeable epicanthic fold can be accepted as white even if one parent is fully Asian.

On the one hand, the true American ideal is liberty and justice for all with every person having a chance to participate in society to the best of their abilities. 

On the other, there’s definitely a cultural subset that wants to make sure old white men (and the various subsets of that subset, viz. white women, young white men, etc.) are more equal than others.

But their day is drawing to a close.

Already there are enough old white men who do believe in liberty and justice for all and who vote for young and female and minority candidates to ensure this country’s coalition of minorities get a say in how things are done.

Donald Trump and MAGA represent that last feverish attempt to hold onto power before old white men no longer find the country deferring to them simply because they’re old white men.

Oh, there will be old white men involved in politics in years to come.

They will start as young white men who know how to deal and make alliances with all the other subsets in the country.  A few will be successful enough at their careers to survive long enough to become old white men…

…but they’ll never wield the same dominant clout old white men used to have.

I trust we will not have another old white male president for the rest of this century.  That particular combo is a toxic turd that needs to learn to play will with others.  We will have old people male and female, of all sorts of different backgrounds serve as president, and we’ll probably have a few younger-to-middle aged white men as well, candidates who grew up in the new realpolitik and understand their age and skin tone and assigned genitalia give them no more special consideration than anyone else.

  © Buzz Dixon

[uzumaki-rebellion]

"King Killmonger: The Golden Jaguar" Chapter 1

Author's Note: You must have read the "Black Boys Bloom Thorns First" series before trying to dip into this new book!

"I will be one of the greatest That is a vow, yeah, that is a promise Always wanted to be famous Just being real, yeah, just being honest

My haters gon' always be nameless Give them no cloud, I give them no power

Creators built different, they ancient Sooner than later, all will be ours…"

Iniko—"The King's Affirmation"

King N'Jadaka Udaku of the Panther Tribe from the kingdom of Wakanda sat at the head table for the Congressional Black Caucus's newly minted Pan-African symposium/dinner. Housed inside of the National Museum of African American History and Culture, the event brought together Black leaders from all over the world that wanted to shape their future with the influence of Black American politicians after the great disaster of the Infinity War.

The king sipped from a glass of lemon water with his young Executive Assistant Mpilo by his side, very much aware of the eyes dragging across his intimidating figure in the midst of seventy-five world politicians of African descent with their various entourages. Women and men allowed to participate in the momentous occasion chanced glancing his way to assess what kind of man he was on this rare occasion that N'Jadaka visited Washington, D.C.

He grew accustomed to the staring. King N'Jadaka became the legend made flesh among them, the rare Black man of real power surrounded by other Black leaders that tried to balance governing in the face of American neo-imperialism. The people in that room would've given up their firstborn child just to be in his presence, especially the representatives from Sudan and Ethiopia. Thanos's ridiculous plan to snap problems away only created more dire ones on earth and Africa suffered as a result. The rise of new warloads and the loss of faith in democracy sprouted far and wide. Slavery, coups, and genocide had ramped up. Troubled nations in the motherland looked to Wakanda and not the U.S. for leadership, and that made N'Jadaka's stay in his former homeland dangerous. The C.I.A. had a bench warrant of death on his head. Western powers wanted the king of Wakanda eliminated.

The Golden Jaguar sighed and pressed his hands on his thighs and flexed his fingers to offset the ribbons of tension coursing through him. Despite it being an all Black affair, there were enemy ops in the conference hall among them. The Dora Milaje and his Onyx Squad remained visible and dispersed throughout the perimeter, their smart-looking uniforms marking them as superior protection among the American security hired to keep unwelcome outsiders from trying to sneak an audience with the Wakandan king.

This attempt at a heavily-publicized gathering of Black international elites became a way for powerless Black politicians in the U.S. to rival and possibly supplant N'Jadaka's influential UDC creation that made waves in under a year. No matter what power-to-the-people slogans were used to get them in office, Black American politicians were still…politicians. No different than their white counterparts that only worried about getting re-elected and stuffing their pockets with money, connections, and a fat board member assignment or consultation position on some corporations dime after retirement. No matter the pithy declarations about supporting the Black community he heard all evening, there were wolves in the room seeking access to more power. The white American power structure lit a fire under the CBC's ass to put together something that would convince diaspora Africans to join with them instead of the Wakandans. N'Jadaka knew what it was and decided to participate anyway. Just to let the CBC know he was watching them closely and feigning diplomacy. America was a weak and decaying order. The bored king found solace knowing he would be its demise.

N'Jadaka tapped his hand on the fancy table cloth. Mpilo took note of his mood and quickly checked his comm tab for the expected time of arrival for Yani and the children. The trip abroad had lasted over two weeks, most of it spent at the United Nations in Geneva, and meetings in New York, London, and South Africa. N'Jadaka cancelled a trip to Saudi Arabia when one of the crown princes of an oil billionaire insulted him on a viral vid. He made an example of them by snubbing a much-anticipated visit there. Any form of anti-Blackness anywhere was swiftly aired out. Mexico, Argentina, Spain, France, Italy, and the Dominican Republic were already smarting from his public call-out of their treatment of Black people due to an increase of racialized violence targeting poor Black citizens in their nations. With Yani's urging and Ramonda's powerful voice as an ambassador, there was a rallying call against global femcide in the wake of the disappearance of so many people.

The U.S. didn't let the great loss of citizens stop their continuing encroachment of resources and they took advantage of pumping predatory capitalism along. What could've been a moment of self-reflection, a shift in priorities, and a new way of being for the country as a whole was simply an opportunity to prey on weaker nations even harder. Their only hindrance in achieving more power was the rise of Wakanda under N'Jadaka's leadership. He instilled fear in every nation that wanted life to go on the same way, and he also gave hope to those parts that saw a chance at progressive changes aligning with Wakanda. The western powers still gasped at his U.N. speech criticizing colonial apartheid in Palestine and Gaza. The gasp turned into full-fledged choking when he charged genocide co-signed and funded by the Americans. Once he pontificated on the historical similarities between Gaza, South Africa, and the Black American segregation of his own people, his War Dogs got wind of Mossad operations trying to penetrate Wakandan intelligence through the C.I.A.

Back home, the continent was split.

African nations that had long been ignored and left to suffer on their own benefitted from supporting Wakanda. N'Jadaka flooded their lands with tech support, agricultural advances, doctors, and a quick rebuilding of infrastructures with his Wakandan Humanitarian Corps that embarrassed the U.S.. At N'Jadaka's urging, Azania and Caanan had stopped selling uranium, colbalt, and platinum to anyone outside of Africa in exchange for advanced agricultural expansion. Mining had ruined and polluted their lands with run-off depleting usable soil and water. Rapid climate change didn't help them either and the neighboring nations were on the verge of famine. Wakanda helped clean their water, soil, and air for free, allowing farmers to produce a bumper crop that saved millions from starvation and prevented them from becoming refugees in other nations. Those who had been malnourished received the best medical treatment, and once snatched from the brink of disaster, Azania and Caanan were staunch allies for good.

Niganda and Mohannda were a different story, currying favor from the CBC leaders and complaining to the U.S. president that Wakanda was a global threat to sovereignty. The other African nations galvanized by the freely given help, threw all of their allegiance to the Wakandans, thus leading other unaligned African nations to fear him creating a United States of Wakanda to rule them all.

It wasn't a bad idea.

He never acknowledged those types of concerns and just let the rumors grow to keep his enemies on their toes. His own father N'Jobu had flirted with visions of a united continent under Wakandan rule in his journals. Currently, N'Jadaka scrambled to replace War Dogs lost to the blip in order to keep his finger on the pulse of other nations.

"Princess Yani will arrive within the next two hours. They have crossed onto the Atlantic," Mpilo said.

N'Jadaka nodded. He gave Mpilo a full-time job as his personal assistant since the loss of his father in the snap. The king had no idea the young man suffered that loss until months after the memorial honoring the lost ones. Mpilo continued to do his work professionally until Yani brought the news to the king's attention. She recognized Mpilo's family name from one of the palace attendants sending personal condolences to their staff on her behalf. When N'Jadaka questioned him, Mpilo broke down in tears in the king's office. His father and two oldest brothers had vanished leaving behind his mother and baby sister. Barely an adult, Mpilo now had the responsibility of looking out for his immediate family. N'Jadaka terminated his fellowship and gave him a permanent job title as his executive assistant.

The king let out a sigh of relief.

He needed to be with his family again. Normally Yani would be with him, but she was on her own global tour promoting her book, "The Wakandan Way of Birth". Their children traveled with her and he caught interview segments of her in three countries. The world was enamored with the exotic princess. It was her first appearance outside of Wakanda representing the nation. N'Jadaka grinned thinking about the reaction of the Caribbean. The entire region went nuts finding out officially that an island girl had snagged the most powerful man in the world.

She promoted the book in St. Thomas first, and he hated not being there with her. She traveled to Jamaica next to visit the land of her father and paid her respects to their relatives there. In the midst of the new global normal, Yani's book became a smashing success. All proceeds went to funding her midwifery scholarships to further the number of Black and Native midwives and doulas learning at the Wakandan birthing centers. The money allowed women to focus fulltime on their craft without monetary constraints. She planned to give more once she became queen because the palace allotted a salary for Queen Consorts that she planned to use for more income-based scholarships. Wherever there were Black and Indigenous women in need, Yani made sure they took priority over anyone else.

Everyone wanted their hands on the book. A Wakandan publishing company mass marketed the coffee-table sized manauscript, and they looked exquisite. The cover was created by a Birnin S'Yan artisan who made a vibranium-tinged dye that was threaded into a gorgeous royal purple and silver cloth overlay. The book had fifty full-page color photos that Yani spent months agonizing over from a total of 200. The cover photo itself deserved to hang in a museum. It showed a young woman holding her newborn daughter and they were both dressed in the vibrant colors of the River Tribe.

When the pre-release online sales skyrocketed, Yani made the decision to only provide non-online sales out of Wakanada through global Black bookstores. The international brick and mortar stores made bank with the flood of non-Black customers wanting their hands on something from Wakanda. Even people who weren't even interested in childbirth or culture clamored to snatch up a copy just to get a glimpse of what Wakanda looked like from the inside. The first print sold out in one week.

The talks finally ended and the affair moved into a spacious outdoor dining area where a small jazz trio played music in a corner. The balmy weather made it comfortable to be outside and he took in a deep inhale of D.C. air.

Okoye and Ayo kept the pre-dinner rush to talk to the king at a distance, giving N'Jadaka time to snag a moment of peace. After ten minutes he shook hands and greeted caucus leaders, trying not to look annoyed at their requests for selfies with him. He obliged to be polite and to give an air of camaraderie. Everyone wanted everyone else to think they had connections to him by how loud they talked or laughed with him. He knew the drill.

The hosts ushered his entourage to their dining seats near the front of another podium. No one pretended to be sly about sneaking candids of him with their smartphones.

"King N'Jadaka, your son is here to see you right away," Ayo whispered in his ear.

N'Jadaka looked around and spotted Riki walking out from the museum with his personal Dora, Quamba. All the diners stopped to watch the prince of Wakanda walk through with his hands behind his back and his eyes searching for his Baba. Some people tried to snap photos of Riki, but all of N'Jadaka's children wore necklaces that thwarted any cameras from getting clear pictures of them by jamming up electronics and flash photography cameras.

Riki looked too clean.

Yani braided his hair in the spiral style of his Wakandan ancestors, threaded with shells and beads that bounced around his shoulders. This week, Riki wore jade and black fingernail polish decorated with mini panther claws in bright gold which was the rage of young children in Birnin Zana who loved their local team that played a popular sport called ukudlala ngomlenze…leg play. It was a game that required balance, and intense leg flexibility as two teams battled each other on a low swinging wooden bridge that moved across a deep body of water. One member of each team took turns standing in the center of the swinging bridge as the other team members of the challenging team split up on either side to rock the opponent off their feet, without any of their own teammates falling over too. The narrow bridge swung higher and higher, pushing athletes to go against gravity, their exhausted limbs put to the test for long durations. N'Jadaka had promised Riki a trip to the national competition in the River Tribe territory once they returned home.

Riki's black royal sash rested snug across his chest with the family crest emblazoned on it. The boy was seven-years old and sprouting a bit of height. He was almost as tall as Sydette and would probably surpass her by the time he was eight. The freckles on his red-brown skin were more pronounced, covering his nose and cheeks. Riki's eyes lit up when he spotted N'Jadaka.

"Baba!"

The boy ran past chuckling adults who admired the tailored royal suit and polished shoes. N'Jadaka held his arms out and his son jumped onto his lap and kissed his cheek. The happy king wrapped his child up in love.

"I've missed your busy behind," N'Jadaka said. "Where's your Mama and the girls?"

"Changing clothes. I couldn't wait to see you," Riki said, squeezing his arms around N'Jadaka's neck.

"Good trip, Dumplin?"

"Yes. People went crazy for Mama and her book. I'm ready to go home though. I don't like this country…the people here are so fake. They only like you if you're rich or famous."

"Hungry?"

Riki nodded and scanned the tables for the evening's selection. He scrunched up his nose at the servers placing rolls and butter on the tables.

"Can we eat this food, Baba?" Riki asked.

"We have people watching the chef in the kitchen."

The Udaku children had been taught to reject outside food unless their parents permitted them to partake. N'Jadaka had become cautious with poisoning and normally had his own personal chef make all of their food, but he opted to watch the American cooks this time around instead of turning down a plate. The head chef for the evening was a famous Black American from New Orleans who read that N'Jadaka liked food from that region and wanted to create a menu to impress the powerful king.

"Sit next to me," N'Jadaka said, pulling out a chair for Riki.

Mpilo took a seat across from them at the circular table that seated twelve. Members of the CBC organizing committee greeted him then took their seats at other tables. The jazz music grew softer as guests took their seats all throughout the guarded space. A congresswoman from Philly took to the podium near N'Jadaka's area and announced the arrival of Yani and Ramonda. Eager applause broke out and N'Jadaka stood up from his seat. He helped Riki stand in his chair so he could see his mother and aunt enter.

N'Jadaka's Uncle Bakari escorted Yani and Ramonda together as Sydette and Joba walked in front of them wearing matching purple dresses with their hair twisted and pulled back with amethyst panther-shaped hair clips. Yani mesmerized the crowd in a shimmery emerald green dress that revealed all her rounded curves. She styled her hair with extensions in an upswept fancy roll that denoted her status as queen-to-be. Ramonda had the crowd transfixed with her tall purple isicholo and deep purple gown. Uncle Bakari appeared dapper in his black tux. N'Jadaka's grandfather Dante escorted Bakari's wife Shavonne and they all made their way toward the front where their Dora Milaje escorts brought them to the king's table.

Sydette and Joba dashed to him first and he picked up both girls and smothered their faces with kisses amidst their squeals of delight for being with him again. He put them down the moment Yani reached him and he couldn't hide from the world his love for her.

He wrapped eager arms around her tight and pressed his forehead against her brow. The tense energy in his body drained down into the floor and he exhaled a long breath. Yani rested her arms around his massive shoulders, her perfume drowning him in memories of their shared bed and the last time they had been alone without the world watching their every move.

"Baby, I missed you so much."

"I know. I couldn't wait to get here and hold you."

"You know these niggas is starin' so we better play it cool for Ramonda's sake."

Yani giggled and pulled away from him. He kissed her hand and turned to Ramonda, giving his auntie double kisses on both cheeks. He hugged his grandpop next and finally showed love to his American aunt and uncle who raised him after his parents died. They all took their seats at the dining table. Yani sat at his right, and Riki, Joba, and Sydette took over his left side.

As the first courses of salads, soups, and finger foods were brought out, announcements were made. The head chef was brought out and recognized. N'Jadaka allowed the nervous man to take a picture with him holding up a plate of sausage gumbo with rice. There was special recognition given to Yani, along with a surprise plaque presented to Ramonda for her role as an ambassador fostering goodwill between America and Wakanda.

N'Jadaka caught up with his aunt and uncle and the family chatter reminded him of being home except they were being watched like fish in a fishbowl. When dessert and coffee were brought out at the end of the meal, Ramonda switched seats with Riki and leaned in toward the king.

"President Mubiri would like to have a nightcap with you during the mixer inside the museum," Ramonda said.

"Why?"

Ramonda's sharp eyes observed the guests.

"He believes D.C. is neutral ground and he would like to discuss rumors of you inciting a coup in his nation."

"Sounds like C.I.A. bullshit."

"Even so, it wouldn't hurt to appear cordial. Get some photos taken that shows two rival nations talking together. Yani is your icebreaker. Madame Mubiri is here, too. A nice photo-op of beautiful African women mingling will make the CBC very happy."

N'Jadaka glanced at Yani's fingers. She had on her deadly finger armor. Hopefully she wouldn't threaten the man again.

He signaled for Quamba and several Onyx Squad security to take his children and grandfather back to their penthouse suite at the hotel they were lodged in for the weekend. He hugged and kissed the children promising to read a bedtime story to them later. People moved out of the way and stared at his heirs. All three children walked like royalty, heads held high, backs kept straight.

The after dinner mixer started inside the lobby of the museum where a giant abstract art installation above their heads looked like the unfurling of giant bronze ribbons. N'Jadka read the description of the sculpture that was supposed to represent the swinging motions like a band of angels coming down to carry Black Americans back home like the old spiritual "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot". The artist, Richard Hunt, used suspended cables to anchor the work, and the swooping arcs of the bronze bands reminded N'Jadaka of his mother's arms around his body when he was small.

Several servers traipsed the lobby carrying drinks and savory finger foods. A D.J. played contemporary R&B and the guests relaxed into full-blown partying mode. Bakari and Shavonne headed toward a display of Harriet Tubman's shawl further inside the museum and Mpilo escorted Ramonda to meet some caucus members who were dying to be seen with her.

N'Jadaka held out his arm and Yani rested her hand on it. She walked with a majestic stride that matched his and they mingled for a bit. Yani's charm was her greatest weapon and they spent a considerable amount of time discussing her book and tour. Her radiance overwhelmed a few people who couldn't stop admiring her even as they moved on to other guests. The allure of power was a true aphrodisiac, and Yani wielded it well. All of her Wakandan training and years of experience dealing with all sorts of people paid off in spades as she delighted American dignitaries. He couldn't stop staring at her himself. Her voice lit up his face and he smiled at everything she said. Yani's youth also surprised people. She would be entering her late twenties soon enough, but carried a greater maturity and self-awareness in the last year representing Wakanda internationally.

They worked the first three corners of the lobby before the mixer branched out to the rest of the museum, and they headed toward President Mubiri and Madame Mubiri who lingered near a replica of a slave quarter. The Mohanndan president stood with a glass of liquor in his hand entertaining cronies as his wife watched her husband's dour animated face with his uppercase gums spilling over his lowercase teeth. Her eyes sparked up when Yani approached holding out her hands toward the woman.

"Madame Habiba Mubiri, I finally get to see you again in a less formal setting," Yani enthused.

Yani ignored Mubiri and immediately pulled Habiba away from her husband, touching her hand in informal friendship.

"Mubiri," N'Jadaka said, offering his hand. Mubiri shook it.

"King N'Jadaka."

Yani reached for a glass of wine from a server that had been freshly poured from the bar. She presented it to N'Jadaka using the ancient submissive stance of queens in Wakanda, holding the glass up to him with her right hand, while her other hand cradled the elbow of the serving arm. N'Jadaka caught the lust in Mubiri's eyes again for his fiancé. He took the glass from Yani and kissed her cheek.

"Thank you, baby," he said.

"May I please borrow Madame Mubiri? I would love to introduce her to the head organizer," Yani asked Mubiri.

It was clear that Mubiri didn't want his wife to do anything, but Yani's seductive voice couldn't be denied. She played on the man's need to control women by asking his permission. Her earlier exaggerated submissive act toward N'Jadaka fed into the man's cultural ego. Yani upped the ante by touching his arm and squeezing it. Her touch ignited something in the president and he lifted his wife's arm and practically threw her at Yani.

"I'm sure you two have some important things to discuss without us present," she added.

"Enjoy yourselves," Mubiri said, his gaze plastered all over Yani's figure as the two women strolled further into the heart of the museum.

N'Jadka pretended to drink his wine while being focused on something else until Yani was gone.

"I thank you for the personal invitation to your wedding King N'Jadaka. I didn't think you would extend us any welcome to your country again."

"It's a time of celebration, not political intrigue. Yani wanted your wife there. They have been corresponding for a time getting to know each other. You don't have to come if you don't want to."

"And miss the nuptials of that delightful woman you parade around like a trophy? Never. We will attend and enjoy the splendor."

They both drank in silence.

"Did you like the tour of the museum earlier?" N'Jadaka asked.

"An intriguing history lesson. You must be proud of your heritage here."

"I am."

"Rebels at heart. I see why the Americans want to control you."

"I know you don't want to stand here and shoot the shit about my lineage. You want to know if I'm plotting to throw you out of office."

Mubiri choked on his drink as N'Jadaka stared at his face. The Mohanndan's cronies flicked their eyes away in embarrassment, not expecting the king to be that blunt.

"What would I gain from having you taken out, Mubiri? There would only be another leader who thinks the same as you, so nothing would change. Pinning your hopes on the Americans holding me in check has not paid off in a year. I offer nothing but hope and a chance at directing Africa's vast internal wealth and ancient wisdom back to where it belongs…on all of our people."

"Our people? You Wakandans are stand-offish and think only of yourselves. These little excursions into other African nations giving them little trinkets of your resources reeks of a ploy to rule over us all. At least your uncle acted like a benevolent father-figure in the west."

"My uncle was not the man you all think he was. I am telling you now, to your face Barasa Mubiri…I have no plans for a coup, an assassination, nor war with your country. Did you not read my fiancé's book? Wakandans value peaceful living, enhancements to prolong life, and self-actualization that benefits the whole and not just the individual. We kept to ourselves for centuries even when we had the means to colonize the world and bend it to our will. But we didn't."

"I still think that is an option in your arsenal, King N'Jadaka."

"I am from the school of 'don't start none, won't be none'. My goal is transformative liberation for whomever wants it."

"So-called liberators often transform into something sinister, if given the chance."

The king moved closer to the east African president, closing the small gap between them.

"I only plan to bring hell to those who mean us harm. Do you plan to cause problems for us with this U.S. administration?" N'Jadaka asked.

Mubiri shook his head and smiled.

"I want peace and prosperity for our people too."

"Good. You have heard directly from my mouth what I want. Let's spend the rest of the evening showing the world that Africans can co-exist on the continent without people confirming their biases about us being warlords and despots. We can be civil with our disagreements. Everything doesn't have to be bloodshed, or rumors of hostile take-overs."

N'Jadaka excused himself with Okoye by his side.

"You were very civil, kumkani," Okoye said.

"I promised Umama that I would control my hostile tendencies here."

"She would be very pleased. Princess Yani is speaking to a delegation from the Sudan. Ambassador Udaku is with the Press Secretary for the American President."

N'Jadaka peeked at his kimoyos. He wanted to leave as soon as possible without making it glaringly obvious that he was ready to dip. His declining of the White House meeting with the President didn't sit well among the ruling Republican party.

"Kumkani!"

Mpilo rushed to him breathing heavily.

"You must come immediately," Mpilo said.

N'Jadaka quickened his steps with Okoye at his side. Mpilo led them through a throng of people and Yani rushed forward, clasping his hand in hers.

"What is it?" he said.

He squeezed a protective hand around hers and she pulled him toward another room. His family stood with other guests admiring a wall display. Ramonda stood with Dante and his uncle Bakari had taken off his glasses. Shavonne held an arm over Bakari's shoulder and they made room for N'Jadaka to move in front of them. Yani linked her arm with his.

"We didn't know this was here," Yani said.

N'Jadaka looked at a series of life-sized color photos of his mother Califia leading a Berkley BSU meeting. Her young face looked on fire like her hair as she held up a fist, her brows knitted together, and her mouth open spitting fire. A second photo connected to the first in a collage-styled presentation showed her carrying N'Jadaka on her hip. He was four years old wearing intricate cornrows and they both looked directly at whoever took the picture for a public event in Oakland. A deep inhale filled his lungs. The third image brought the handsome beauty of his father N'Jobu to life. He wore the dark ceremonial royal robes of Wakanda looking noble and fly as fuck. A fourth photo made N'Jadaka blink trying to figure out where it came from. He sported an MIT sweatshirt and his grin looked so innocent long ago. It came back to him. Chocolate City. A school paper had done an article about him and his dorm mates The final photo was a formal publicity photo of himself as the king of Wakanda. The entire collage mural threaded his Black American roots to his Wakandan roots, forming a romanticized link of the diaspora back to the motherland.

He appreciated his family becoming a historical footnote in the museum. Dante wiped his eyes and Yani wrapped an arm around him, helping the older man to reconcile the pain they felt in not having Califia and N'Jobu there with them.

The museum director approached N'Jadaka with a timid smile, her pale brown eyes dazzled by how close she stood next to him and his entourage. She down casted her gaze quickly when he stared directly at her.

"We hope you like this new installation King N'Jadaka. Unfortunately, the artist has been ill, or else he would've been here," the director said.

"Very impressive," he said.

His eyes lingered on his mother's image holding him while Ramonda gazed at N'Jobu's image. He wondered what thoughts went through her mind. Was there regret? Any remains of sadness that he had chosen someone else over her?

"Every time I see your parents, I see our children," Yani said. "You look so much like Riki in this one."

Yani reached out and let her fingers hover under the chin of his childhood image. He wanted to go home. Back to Wakanda. He whispered in Ramonda's ear and she slid next to the director to heap praises on the installation. Clasping Yani's hand, he guided his relatives toward the nearest exit. The Dora snapped to attention flanking them while the Onyx squad scanned for any problems.

Five dark SUVs pulled up to the side of the museum with Kingsguard drivers. Their entire party was whisked away to a luxury hotel in the heart of the capital and they disembarked in an underground parking garage to avoid paparazzi.

N'Jadaka entered his suite with Yani, and their children tackled him onto the floor wearing their pajamas. Dante watched them from a couch for a few minutes before standing up.

"I'm heading to bed, JaJa. What time do you need me to be ready for Joba's grandma?" Dante asked.

"She's arriving with the rest of Disa's family in the half cruiser around noon. We'll pick up some family in St. Thomas and Jamaica too before we travel back to Wakanda. The wedding rehearsal happens on Wednesday instead of Thursday."

"Yani's still doing the Today show interview?"

"Yes," Yani said, pulling Sydette from on top of N'Jadaka's head, "It's the only place I'm promoting the book."

Dante looked surprised.

N'Jadka gave Yani a look to take the children to their shared junior suite. Dante watched the family leave and he moved closer to his grandson.

"What's going on?" Dante asked.

"I don't want Yani in this country any longer than she has to be. We have some credible threats here in the states, and we're doing some culling of problems."

"Culling? You mean killing right?"

N'Jadaka glanced over his shoulder. Yani's voice gently scolded the children from being so hyper and loud before bed.

"Grandpop, things are escalating. Neutralizing threats will become more common for me."

"I don't have any issues with that."

N'Jadaka nodded.

"I'm turning in. See ya in the morning."

"I'm sleeping in."

"That doesn't surprise me."

He squeezed his grandfather's shoulder and watched the older man shuffle off to the adjoining door that led to another private suite. A Dora on night duty greeted Dante and closed the suite door behind him.

N'Jadaka stepped into the bedroom with his children frolicking across two queen beds. Sydette bounced on hers and played with her kimoyo beads while Riki and Joba tried to sidestep Yani's attempts to get them under the covers. N'Jadaka clapped his hands and all three children stopped goofing around and centered their attention on him. Yani placed hands on her hips, her long extensions fallen over one shoulder.

"Hey, what's going on in here? Mama said it's time for bed. Stop playing around."

"You promised us a story," Joba said.

He sighed and tread softly to the younger children's bed and plopped down on it. Pulling Joba onto his lap, he nuzzled his chin on top of her head. She touched his cheek.

"Are you too tired Baba? We can wait for another time," Joba said.

Her soft voice and soft hands brought forth all the mental exhaustion of the day.

"Thank you, Sunshine," he said.

He kissed Joba's cheek and she scrambled under the covers next to her brother. Riki patted his hand and he stroked the boy's braids.

"Night, Baba," Sydette said.

His oldest climbed under thick blankets and blew him a kiss. He pretended to catch it and place it lovingly on his cheek.

"Tomorrow you will go with Grandpop to have breakfast with Uncle Bakari and Aunt Shavonne, then Grandma Theresa will arrive and we'll all meet up for lunch," Yani said.

"When are we leaving this place?" Riki asked.

"Soon," N'Jadaka said. "Get some sleep."

All the children looked relieved. He slipped his hand over Yani's and pulled her out of the room, turning off the lights and closing the bedroom door. Yani threw her arms around his waist and they hugged each other, allowing their mutual warmth and affection to flow through one another. He had his family back.

N'Jadaka's sleep was interrupted not by a sound, but by the missing softness removed from his side. Opening his eyes, he spread his hand out feeling for Yani. A toilet flushed from the bathroom outside of the hotel bedroom and she padded in quietly, closing the door before re-joining him. Glancing at the clock on the nightstand he was surprised to see it was only three in the morning. His body felt like it had slept later than that. He spooned back around Yani's lush form and they threaded the fingers of their right hands together, tucking them under her breasts.

The TV they watched before nodding off played a twenty-four hour news channel. Broadcasts of his visit stayed on loop most of the night, but the current images flashing onscreen highlighted the weather and celebrity gossip.

"At the end of this week we will be married," he whispered into Yani's ear.

She giggled and pushed her rump against his crotch.

"Queen Yani and King N'Jadaka," he said. "Nervous?"

"A little. Our counseling sessions with Elder Efetebo gave me a lot to think about. Umama and Ramonda have helped me too. Feels like I'm a part of something bigger than anything I have ever known in Wakanda…and yet…"

N'Jadaka reached over and turned on a lamp. He turned her face toward him.

"What is it?"

Yani's eyes watered and she blinked quickly. Two small tears trekked a lonely trail down her round cheeks. He kissed them away and cuddled her in his body heat and strength. She continued speaking in a low voice.

"At times…I know many still see us as outsiders on the noble court. They don't come for mi like they used to in the beginning, but I see it in their eyes. I know they want you take a Wakandan concubine. As modern and visionary as our country is, they hold on to these old timey ways to discredit our reign. I can see if they don't want Sweet Pea to have claim to the throne, but Riki and Joba have the bloodline in them. That should be enough. They want you to have a legally sanctioned child with a second wife to make the new line more legitimate…more Wakandan than diaspora. Everyone is scared to say this to your face, so that is the only thing that keeps them in line."

"Zola and Ilana tell you this?"

"They tell me everything. They love us."

"I've been on the elders' asses about that shit."

"There's only so much they can do. They can't stop other people from talking what they feel to be true in their hearts. A segment of the population will always see us diluting the bloodline."

"I will have Zola and Ilana tell me who the gossipmongers are and I will cast them out on their asses."

Yani sighed and burrowed into his arms.

"That will only make them feel justified and maybe cause more trouble for me in the palace. I will deal with it in mi own way."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure. Right now I'm a weak piece on the chess board. But once that royal isicholo is on my head, I will have more power to play a different position. I won't need to run to you all the time complaining."

"You don't run to me."

She rubbed his bicep and kissed the skin there on his arm.

"I can stand on my own. I have to in order to survive the politics as queen. The more time I spend in the throne room with you, I see why you wanted me there so much."

"Does it overwhelm you?"

"Sometimes. The Council of Elders are so particular…so strict. Like I said, we have the most modern country and I can't get over how backwards they can be with a willful adherence to tradition without even considering the impact of our population being made up of so many young citizens. Nearly half of our citizens are under the age of twenty. Even before the Infinity War. These young people are hungry for change. They want to create new traditions. Look at Zola and Ilana, my staunchest supporters…their desire for new things spills over into every conversation we have together. So much goes on back home and yet, we both have to deal with the rest of the world's problems too. I tell myself I'm up to the challenge, that I can multitask and handle every little fire that breaks out in the Court of Nobles, but it can look daunting at times."

"We have each other. We have our family. There's nothing we can't get through together. I put us all in hell and we climbed back out… you and me. I plan on protecting you Yani, and providing you with anything you need for yourself or our children. The nation will know your power and influence for generations to come. I mean…look at your book tour. The world knows who you are…"

Yani's eyes drifted away from N'Jadaka's face. She reached for the tv remote on the nightstand and turned up the volume on a previously broadcasted segment. Onscreen a male news anchor out of D.C. spoke over a background image of N'Jadaka back in his Killmonger days. Mercenary fatigues covered his body and his short locs had barely curled over his forehead.

"They outed you," Yani said.

N'Jadaka listened to the anchor list his accomplishments at MIT and the Navy before cutting to alleged covert missions for various off-the-grid companies and ghost units. He sat up on the bed as a female political analyst sat in front of an image of the Pentagon. She shared a clip of N'Jadaka's speech to the U.N. and inferred that the Wakandan king's connection to the C.I.A. and mercenary past would prove to be a detriment to African nations seeking true democracy. The overall segment painted N'Jadaka in an unsavory light.

"…King N'Jadaka has stated publicly at the latest U.N. gathering in Geneva that he will continue to interfere with African nations that are in turmoil. Our government can't afford to have Wakanda becoming the world police if the U.N. can't rally around the support of ending genocide in the Congo or demanding that Rwanda and Uganda stop their pillaging of coltan in that region. His calling out of multinationals is dangerous to the progress America is making to help the DRC put an end to the loss of life there. We've sat on the sidelines long enough waiting to see what direction Wakanda will move in since the mysterious ousting of King T'Challa, and now that we know the full background of the rebel king…this by the way is what he is known as in Mohannda and Niganda. Those two nations also have large deposits of colbalt, coltan, and uranium, and their leaders have hinted King N'Jadaka may wage war to secure those resources just like he hoards vibranium from the rest of the world."

"Janice, are you suggesting that King N'Jadaka's background as a C.I.A. operative may provoke a World War Three scenario in the future? He is in our country right now, in this city exactly with other African leaders and Black politicians from around the world. You really believe he will bring us to the brink of another global disaster after we've gone through so much?"

"He is a threat to our national security and the security of other African countries who desire peace and free-trade without violence. It is our duty to protect those people, and to protect the leadership who want to sell resources that benefit all. We are all witnessing the emergence of a secretive superpower under the leadership of a man we trained in black ops and who has no allegiance to anyone. I find this disconcerting and frankly, Bill, I'm shocked at how casual the leadership in this country is taking this troubling revelation."

"Excluding his recent U.N. speech, King N'Jadaka has only spoken out publicly against the on-going genocidal war in the DRC. As far as we know, he hasn't done anything outright on the continent of Africa that should warrant the type of forceful caution you are suggesting. Why are you so adamant about this discourse in the capital?"

"Wakanda is an unknown factor in global conflicts to date. U.S. officials and the Pentagon would like to see it stay that way, but King N'Jadaka appears to be rattling his saber. His training and access to the most powerful weaponry on earth scares me. It should scare everyone, especially with his negative views toward the United States…the land of his birth."

"Genius…decorated solder…Navy SEAL…C.I.A. operative…mercenary…king…you've given us a lot to think about with your upcoming book about Wakanda's place in geopolitics."

"Here's something else to think about. King N'Jadaka —Erik Stevens when he was an American—used to have Tony Stark as a mentor."

"Iron Man?"

"Yes."

"Are you implicating the billionaire superhero in anything to do with King N'Jadaka's spectacular political trajectory?"

"I'm only pointing out how entrenched the Wakandan king is within bleeding edge technology in the military arms race and his close proximity to someone many found problematic years ago as an industrialist. Who knows if these two men are still in contact with one another? Tony Stark should be called to Washington to answer pertinent questions about his past with this king."

N'Jadaka flicked the off button for the tv. Yani placed it back on the nightstand.

"They've been sitting on this shit for a year. Been wondering when the C.I.A. would drop it in the court of public opinion. Of course that bitch pushes her upcoming book during the last leg of your international book tour. I bet all of your book sales that Everett Ross had a hand in being a ghostwriter for it."

"Will they connect me with your mercenary past? Klaue?"

"No. Klaue used aliases on St. Thomas."

"What if they ask you about how we met?"

N'Jadaka lifted a long braid from Yani's face and tucked it behind her ear.

"I was on vacation in paradise and met you…a beautiful island girl. We fell in love and that's all there is to it."

Yani kissed his lips gently and rolled back on her side. He curled around her and they snuggled for a bit. He whispered in her ear.

"I don't want you to worry about anything that woman said. They've been looking to smear me every chance they get. It doesn't take away from those who support and believe in us."

She nodded into his arm and he kissed her temple.

"These people can only speculate from afar. We'll always be ahead of them. The only thing I want you thinking about is how you'll look in that wedding dress when I see you walking down the aisle," he said.

"That woman on tv tried to make you look like a monster, but all of your achievements only made you look like a man they should praise."

"I came up out the mud and took my talents to the last place they expected. They're starting to see what Africa could become once I get these wars abolished. Africa has always been the center of the world. Once we get the rest of these colonial shackles off her feet, I'll make her flex."

"You sound like you want to be king of the motherland."

"Don't tempt me."

Yani glanced back at him.

"Would you do something like that?"

"No more talk about the world. The sun hasn't come up yet and the children are still asleep."

N'Jadaka smashed his lips against hers and hurriedly slipped his tongue in her mouth to hush more inquiries. Her watery mouth tasted of 7-Up that she must've snuck a sip of from the suite's mini-fridge. His mind slowed down the way it always did when he kissed her. The heartbeat thumps in his chest matched the speed of hers. His long locs fanned out around her face and his Golden Jaguar necklace claws grazed her throat. Yani hummed into his mouth while sucking his tongue and he gasped at the initial thickening of his dick.

Pulling away, he stared down at her face, taking in the wide round eyes with curling lashes that fluttered whispery kisses against his neck as he kissed her forehead.

"I hate when we're apart," he said.

"I know."

"I love being with you like this when the children are in the next room asleep and safe…when no one from the outside bothers us. I can have you all to myself…oohhh…."

Yani slid her hands down his chest and squeezed the growing bulge in his pajama bottoms. He leaked a growing spot of precum and she toyed with it through the silk barrier. Her fingers became sticky and slick. He groaned and murmured her name into her hair, lifting his body higher so he could watch her hand do wonders teasing his erection.

Resting against her, he slid his fingers across her chest, fondling her breasts through her gauzy nightgown top. He pulled down on it until her titties spilled out, the plump nipples feeling like fat grapes on his fingertips. Pinching and plucking at them gently, he played with her breasts until he was ready for more. He climbed above her and pushed his groin into her mound, the friction swelling his dick until it poked out of the waist band on its own. He tugged his pajama pants down and gripped the thick erection in his eager hand. Yani lifted off her gown and he pushed the covers back so he could see the blessed globes jiggle.

"Oh shit," he groaned.

He pressed the tip of his dick against her pierced clit and a glistening long thread of precum shined up her labia. Swiping the bulbous head back and forth, he smeared the clear fluid on her fat vulva like icing on a chocolate cake. Yani shifted her big thighs and her ass cheeks jiggled. He smacked the underside hard and the recoil from that position forced a heavy moan from his lips. She had gained weight. He knew her trip back to St. Thomas and Jamaica meant eating good childhood food, and his woman didn't miss nary a meal. It was a gift to him no doubt.

Kicking off his pajama bottoms all the way, N'Jadaka played with Yani's breasts and labia until he was ready to penetrate the pretty pink opening flashing at him. Yani turned on her side and he parted her labia with one fluid motion of his dick sinking deep into her. She whimpered at the stretching of her walls after a long absence.

"I won't go crazy, baby…I promise. Too many people close around," he huffed.

Her pussy accommodated his girth with a tight wetness he was accustomed to having mold like a second skin around his dick. All he could think of was President Mubiri ogling Yani's body, especially her ass. It looked so round and ripe in her dress. He thrust forward knowing that man would never know pussy as sweet and juicy as the one sheathing his exceptional length. Only kings deserved the clenching his dick received at that moment.

"Yani….dassit…baby…damn…"

He grit his teeth trying to keep from shouting. Lowering his head, he dropped his face into the back of her neck and muffled his vocal straining. In and out…her perfect gushy cavern squelched and he dug in deeper, wanting to hear the sounds of his balls smacking her ass.

"Fuck…girl…"

She arched her back and he smothered his body over hers, preventing her from taking control and making him nut too quick. His dick needed to marinate in her pussy. He held Yani's back against his chest and reveled in the snug pussy cradling his dick. Keeping still, he played with her clit without thrusting, making her indulge in the pressure off all that meat stuffed inside of her. She huffed into her pillow and wiggled her hips, but he kept her anchored against him without mercy.

"You miss Daddy's dick?" he asked.

"Yes."

She whimpered pitiful sounds and clawed the sheets, eventually wilting in his arms. His dick could stay hard for hours, the gift from the heart-shaped herb's power flowing through his blood. He rested in her walls for an hour, teasing her clit and whispering nasty things in her ear. She started crying from the delicate teasing of his fingers all over her jewel-pierced vulva for such a long time without release.

"You betta not cum until I tell you…okay?"

"Okay…okay…I can't take much more…"

She bit into his arm and the heat from her mouth made him chuckle. Yani sat on the edge of her orgasm. Her legs shook from the anticipation. He needed the slow revving from her to keep himself in check.

They shared a sex routine they always adhered to on their reunions since their year of living together in the palace. It was a way to protect her pussy from his veracity. He was never allowed to cum in her pussy first when they joined. It took too much out of her to handle him regularly, so he learned to control his first release and saved it for her submission to him on her knees. The king's affirmation was always a facial for his beautiful queen.

If Yani orgasmed too quickly first, he would head straight to pound town, spurting too much semen that always released the beast in him. Uniting their bodies in slow methodical build ups kept him manageable for her. As he resumed stroking her walls after the long delay of cockwarming, he kept tabs on his arousal levels. When it was time to shift the pace before he wore her down, he pulled his dick from her precious pink sanctuary. Yani scrambled off the bed to submit to his need for dominance.

He moved his legs over the bed and spread his thighs wider, giving Yani room to position her knees on the floor properly in front of him. She offered him her tits, smacking them together playfully, and he fondled a nipple, fisting his dick, and watching her big beautiful brown eyes stare up at him.

"I love you like this…looking up at me…yeah baby…open that mouth…stick out your tongue…yeah, just like that. You gon' let me fuck that pussy some more after this?"

She nodded, looking innocent and expectant.

"Sexy ass…" he hissed.

He bent down and kissed her and she sucked on his lower lip, tugging on the skin with her teeth. Pulling back he shoved his dick down her throat, the girth hallowing out her cheeks on both sides as she sucked and worked her neck. She smacked her lips against his tip, releasing it with a loud pop and a sliding of her tongue across her top lip.

"Suck dick so good…suck it some more…right there…let me stretch that mouth. Stop playing with it Yani, take that shit the right way…"

He reached out and softly slapped the side of her mouth and she gave him a sly grin and licked the underside of his thick ridge. He grabbed her hair then, yanking on the braids to remind her of her place. She hit that itchy sensitive part of his dick with the friction of her scandalous tongue. The thinnest part of the dermis seemed to rest there in that spot that gave her tongue-tip the secret combination to start making his dick leak with clear fluid again. His erection was like a rigid pole vault in her mouth and he was so ready to dismount with a fat nut. Yani hummed, and slowly licked along the sides of his dick. His breathing quickened to a pace that alarmed him. She was beginning to control him, making him react like a desperate man under her spell, and that was being disobedient. Her bratty behavior couldn't be corrected in the heat of her deep throating him. That would require major spanking and loud cursing. The last thing he wanted was for their children and security team to hear him curse a blue streak while spanking Yani's ass. She wanted him to hurry up and ejaculate so she could ride his dick and cum.

A surge of semen rose up through his balls. He slapped Yani again for putting a super charged gwak-gwak 3000 on him too soon. She became obedient again and squeezed his fat sack, staving off his release. He thought about letting her milk him and cumming in her mouth, but the decadent and demanding king wanted to paint her face with hot semen when he was ready. It was his way…he craved the ritual of it between them, and also because he knew a little secret about her.

He grinned slyly thinking about it.

Yani had been sneakily watching old videos of him with past lovers. Months earlier he had scanned old computers that he planned on destroying until his spyware cam detected unusual activity in secret files. The spycam revealed Yani's viewrship and he chuckled at the thought of her using him for her personal porn collection. He said nothing, and left the old computers where they stayed in their home, pretending to ignore them as old artifacts from his past life. The most viewed images were his cum shots on women's faces, and he clocked the intense looks of pleasure on her face when he did it to her. She loved submitting to him that way and it was a great help to their energetic sex life. Lovemaking wasn't as frequent as it used to be because their lives were so busy, but the intensity increased because of it.

Yani continued the arousing slow sucking. He watched her glossy plump lips slide back and forth across the top half of his dick. Her fawning eyes stayed locked on his, riling up his body because she made the act of dick sucking look so illicit. So pornographic.

Every now and then she would stop sucking and rubbed her lips back and forth across the mushroom cap creating a delicious tickling. His balls throbbed. She twisted her fingers around the head to give him new sensations, never once breaking eye contact. Yani knew how to chip away his defenses by giving off innocent vibes. She'd stay on her knees looking up at him with her big titties all out, nipples perky and offered to him like delectable appetizers. That look took him back to St. Thomas and the first time he ever touched her. His dick felt heavy between his legs. Thoughts of her back then being a little spitfire towards him ratcheted up his emotions for her in the present. In six days he would wed the most beautiful, cunning, and loving woman he had ever had to call his own. She latched onto him like a ride or die and he never wanted her to be that way ever again. She deserved better…she deserved more from him. His best. No, he would be a ride or die for her. Always.

He palmed her breasts and squeezed them. Lifted them up and down. Thumbing her nipples with wide circles, he listened to her breathy pants of pleasure. She stroked his dick. Yani would soon be the composed queen of a mighty nation in public, but at night, she would always be his nasty little slut…on her knees begging for Daddy dick to be stuffed in all of her orifices. That turned him on as he pushed her tits together. Her eyes were glassy. Lips pouted. She reached down and peeled back the wings of her inner labia giving him peek-a-boo glimpses of her wet pink. She needed his dick and slapped her pussy lips to ignite a wild fire in him.

"Taste mi," she purred.

Yani held up her wet fingers scented with her love and he licked them, opening his mouth wider so she could stuff three digits inside to paint his tongue with the dew. He swallowed her offering and she traced the shape of his lips with her own until the swollen skin on his lips itched for more.

"Killmonger."

Her moist lips pushed out the air to say that name. It ended him. He jumped to his feet and leveled the deep slit of his dick toward her cheek.

"Yani! Fuck! Fuck!"

Hollering out more expletives, a rush of thick hot cum splashed all over the side of her face. It dripped down to her neck in a sticky white deluge. He gulped for air and groaned to the ceiling.

Cumming on her face soothed the raging libido in N'Jadaka long enough for him to gather Yani in his arms and put her back on the bed. She leaned on her side again. Curling around her ass, he lifted her heavy thigh and pushed back inside her pussy.

"…fucking this pussy…."

He groaned and pumped, letting his lust take over, grateful he ejaculated on her face first because he would've broke her back if he hadn't. She took the pounding like a graceful queen, fully aware that he was lost in the pussy, her pleasure forgotten because her loving blotted out all of his senses. He took advantage of his selfishness because once she became queen, their sex life would switch over to ancient protocols that dictated that the queen had to cum first with her pussy being eaten before the king could even put his dick inside of her. Yani looked forward to that, and he plowed into her knowing that he had a week left to be a bedroom bully.

He smacked her ass cheek harder, talked his shit in her ear and knew his dick tugged on her labia long enough. The king pushed her onto her back and mounted her with one purpose: to hear her scream his name in his ear.

"Cum all over this big dick. Show me how much you love me."

Rocking into her, he held onto her bouncing tits and they both watched him pump long strokes into quivering walls. Her mouth fell open and he crushed her with his full weight. Her lips brushed against his ear and he waited to her that old name of his called out.

It didn't take long.

"Killmonger…Killmonger…fuck me…fuck me Killmonger…."

The silky muscular walls of her pussy squeezed around his dick in a constant flow of contractions that only added to his pleasure listening to her cry out for more. The ecstasy of her voice spiraled him out of his soul.

Hunched over her, N'Jadaka pressed his face into her pillow and roared into the cotton. His dick swelled inside of her and the intense throbbing rippled all the way to his anus and down the back of his ankles. He gasped like he was dying, mashing Yani's breasts into his sweaty chest and enjoying the rooted sensation of his balls throbbing and pushing out semen.

"Goddammit," he sputtered into her hair.

His eyes rolled back into watery sockets that blurred his vision. He rolled over and she climbed on top of him, breasts swinging in his face. Yani bounced on his dick and he thrust up to meet her passionate energy. He settled into sucking on her nipples and areola, letting her rock the bed with her own efforts. She gave him nurturing with the fucking, cooing to him and rubbing his locs.

"My man works so hard…you like your queen taking care of the royal dick, Daddy?"

He nodded, groaning at her soft accent and the way her pussy yanked on his dick with perfect timing. She went at his stiffness at the speed and depth that was comfortable for her and he submitted to whatever she wanted to give him. He watched the up and down movements and admired how shiny she made his dick. Her sticky wetness overflowed and made his lap slippery. The sounds of a fat ass smacking on his balls pleased his ears.

Yani leaned forward and her breasts covered his face entirely, smothering him in buttery softness like a fleshy curtain hiding him from the world. Grateful to be hidden inside her warmth, he relaxed into letting go of all of stresses, all of his problems, all of his worries. He let his queen carry him away to physical delights that poured life back into him. That's what she had always been for him. A life giver. A true goddess the way Tahir had called her.

He started hollering and Yani slammed her hand over his mouth. His heels pressed down into the mattress and his toes curled. Yani panted above him, her voice going up an octave as her second release ascended its peak.

"I'm cumming! I'm cumming on your dick, Killmonger!"

She whipped her head back and forth. Arching her back, her nails clawed his chest.

"Oh, God….oh god! Killmonger…!"

He grabbed her arms and pressed her against his chest. Thrusting his hips upward, he forced Yani to take all the dick as her pussy contracted and milked every drop of cum he shot into her. Their cries of lust co-mingled into an ancient primordial release.

N'Jadaka's voice became hoarse and Yani cradled his face and kissed him, uniting all of their parts together. Her slow languid kisses centered him once more. He hugged her tight, his face mashed into her breasts, and she rubbed his head. They both could feel his stiff dick still throbbing inside of her.

"Can you take more?" he asked.

She nodded.

"Go to the restroom and come on back," he said.

He smacked her ass cheek and she climbed off of him.

Waiting for her to urinate and put special lubricants on her vulva and inside her vagina, N'Jadaka stretched his body. His dick fell back onto his stomach, the head pulsing and dribbling semen above his belly button.

"Fuck, I miss this shit," he said to himself.

Yani returned and they kissed. He licked a trail down to her pussy and pampered her with plenty of earned licks and kisses. The sweet odor of the lubricant she used to protect her womanly parts excited him. He blew a soft breath on her clit and the lubricant warmed up on her vulva adding more pleasure to their adult play time. The pale lighting of the sky heralded the new morning. Yani came in his mouth with her thighs covering his head.

Before the children arose to greet them, Yani rode his dick reverse cowgirl so he could watch the new weight of her backside gleam from the sunlight. Each time she rose up, he watched how tight her pussy gripped his dick. He kept quiet, swallowing his groans, nearly crying himself looking at how big her ass had gotten. N'Jadaka knew the weight gain wasn't from pregnancy. They had been apart since her last period, but he imagined how she would look with pregnancy weight. He liked her chunky and round like a butterball. Her weight had fluctuated over the last year, but it had settled down in the last two months until she did her book tour.

He watched the massive orbs of jiggly ass cheeks bounce on him. It was insane to have a body like that. But it was all his. Her voluptuous gifts belonged to him.

A new thought floated in his mind.

Part of the royal protocols meant that Yani wouldn't be permitted to take birth control during their wedding and honeymoon. Any child conceived during the first month of marriage to a royal couple was a sign of a prosperous future. The world was missing billions of people. Wakanda needed to repopulate. That meant she couldn't be on the contraceptive shots Wakandans used. She would already be weaned off of it to match the timing of their wedding.

He could get her pregnant right then and there.

Yani arched her back and wiggled her backside. She studied his face over her shoulder as she made love to him in the best way for him to admire her body. His dick seemed to get harder thinking about impregnating her before the wedding.

"Do that shit, Ma. Shake that ass."

Yani giggled and tossed her braids over her one side of her head and continued watching him watch her move.

"Look at all this ass…."

She reached back and lifted her ass cheeks for him, her light pink manicured nails looking lovely splayed out to tease him by digging into the ripeness of that bubble. He smacked her butt hard. They'd been fucking for three hours after the troubling news broadcast. He gripped the sheets admiring the dimpling in her backside. If she grew bigger back there during a new pregnancy, she would probably get stretch marks. Titties would get bigger too. He remembered what they looked like filled with milk and he rubbed his large hands all across both ass cheeks, sinking his fingers into the weight.

Sweat dripped down her body and pooled around the indentations on her lower back. She wound her waist teasing the tip of his dick before sliding back down, clapping her own cheeks for him. The woman knew how to keep him satisfied. He gripped her waist and kept her bounce steady. His balls ached to release. He already knew she was fatigued but kept going because she missed him so much and wanted to show off for him longer.

"Such a good girl, Yani. You took good care of this dick. I can't wait to put some more babies in this pussy."

His loose talk brought a glance back at him. Her pussy squeezed his dick with his baby talk. He laughed.

"You heard me girl. Might get you pregnant right now if you keep playing with me like this…shit. Get down for me…just like that. Arch that back. Yeah baby, givin' me that right triangle action…yeah, there it go…head all the way down…big ass up…"

N'Jadaka wistfully stared at Yani in the doggy position, her head to the side so he could watch her face while he smashed. He held onto her waist and pushed in. They had to hurry or else there'd be a pounding on the door with three sets of feet jumping up and down to get their attention.

CLAP. CLAP. CLAP.

Loud. So loud.

Perspiration dropped down from his face onto her spine. His kimoyo beads lit up bright yellow. Okoye was notifying him of incoming reports from Wakanda. He had an hour before the general came to him.

He groaned once Yani hit that spot on his dick with her pussy that felt like lips and tongue suction. The queen had skills that were mindblowing. She started cumming before he did so he rode her wave of pleasure, encouraging her to squirt all over him and fuck up the covers even more with all their fluids on the blanket. He pulled out and palmed her ass, holding the tip of his dick close to her entrance where he shot ribbons of heat all over her labia. Sitting back on his haunches, he admired the way her tight pink opening throbbed and glistened with his cum covering it. She moaned softly at his gentle fingering of the pretty mess he made.

He rubbed her booty and then helped her get under the covers. Kissing her forehead he wasn't surprised to see her drift away quickly from exhaustion. She knew more than anyone it would be some time before they could be like that again until their wedding night. Once back in Wakanda there would be a whirlwind of duties and ceremonial events for their betrothal march.

His dick finally went limp.

He showered and changed into a saffron yellow lounging tunic and slacks. Kora arrived on time to get the children up and ready for breakfast with the rest of the family. He kissed them goodbye and welcomed Okoye and Ayo into the suite.

"Sit," he said.

He poured himself fresh orange juice and nibbled at some breakfast pastries his personal chef sent down from the half cruiser floating invisibly above the hotel roof. Getting comfortable in a side chair, he watched the two Doras on the couch.

Okoye tapped her beads and ten pictures of African men floated above her wrist. She flicked the images above the hotel coffee table and N'Jadaka peered at each one with stern eyes. Each man came from various nations on the continent in service of genocide and predatory exploitation. Okoye tapped each image as she spoke.

"Angola, Congo, Rwanda, Uganda, Sudan, Nigeria, Central African Republic, South Sudan, Somalia, and Ethiopia. Each man neutralized as requested," Okoye said.

She gave him time to inspect the stats on each man's file report before swiping them away and bringing up targets in Eastern and Western Europe.

"Ukraine. Russia. England. France. Germany. Spain. Turkey. Italy. Norway. Sweden," Okoye said.

She went through all twelve countries in South America and ended with combined targets in the U.S. and Canada.

"Any blowback yet? Suspicions?"

Ayo spoke up.

"None kumkani. Each target was studied for months before our War Dogs acted. If there were pre-existing medical conditions, we exacerbated the problem. Others were set up with accidents or placed in precarious positions through threats of exposure. Several committed self-harm when faced with public humiliation," Ayo said.

The women led him through detailed intelligence. Yani eventually woke up and padded past a narrow hall in a long ivory robe to shower and dress. Okoye and Ayo didn't notice her.

"Kumkani, there is one more target," Okoye said.

She tapped her beads and Agent Everett Ross's image popped up along with his ex-wife, C.I.A. Director Valentina Fontaine.

N'Jadaka tapped his fingers on the arms of the chair.

"Since Nick Fury has been gone, Ross is our only reliable plant. I can't take any chances trying to turn anyone around from the inside. None of them can be trusted. Not even the Black ones," he said.

"We are on standby to neutralize them as soon as you give us word," Okoye said.

"I want Ross dead, but not until I've used him up. As long as he thinks he's cool with us, I'll string him along. We can use him to get intel on Fontaine. She's making waves in the intelligence community and they're still somewhat close from what we've gathered so far."

"He wants to meet with you before you leave," Okoye said.

"Nah. I have no desire to talk with him. Just tell him I'm busy with my nuptials and will be unavailable for a month. I'm honeymooning with Yani in Umbono Cove on the houseboat. I don't want to be bothered with anything. Ramonda will oversee everything in my absence. Understood?"

They nodded.

A knock at the entrance door brought them all into guarded attention. Ayo answered. N'Jadaka spotted an Onyx Squad captain standing next to Mpilo.

"Kumkani, sorry to disturb your meeting. I have a private message from the President of the United States," Mpilo said.

N'Jadaka waved the young man over to him. Mpilo handed him a thick beige envelope with the Presidential seal on it. He read the short message inside.

"The President would like a private meeting with me too before we leave," N'Jadaka said.

"Your schedule is under tight security. We would need adequate time to set up additional protective measures inside the White House," Okoye said.

"They don't want to meet at the White House."

"Where then?"

"Camp David."

"The American Department of Defense already has additional surveillance on us since our arrival in this country. Nothing we can't handle if they try something there," Ayo said.

N'Jadaka thrummed his fingers again on the armchair.

"They've set the meeting a day after Yani's television interview."

"Will you go?" Yani interjected from behind them.

Everyone lowered their heads to Yani. She stepped into the living room area dressed in a long cozy pocket dress with vivid colors that reminded him of Black Creek in Wakanda, the place where his parents were entombed. Her hair was elaborately wrapped in a matching headwrap. She took a seat at the small dinette table by the window where their morning meal was set up. Pouring herself fruit juice, she sipped and stared at him. N'Jadaka tossed the invitation on the coffee table.

"I don't want to be bothered," he said.

"I think you should go. At least see what he wants. You won't come here again for awhile and it's time that he gets to see you in an informal place. Maybe you'll catch him off guard without all the eyes here in D.C.," Yani said.

He considered it.

"Leave us," he said.

Mpilo, the Doras , and the Onyx Squad guard removed themselves from the suite. He joined Yani at the table and they fixed themselves plates of food and ate together.

"You really want me to go?" he asked.

Yani stuffed a small Wakandan red berry pastry in her mouth.

"I think President Matthew Ellis needs to see the man that frightens him so much. Think of it as a flex if you want," Yani said.

N'Jadaka grinned.

"And people out here think you're just some sweet faced beauty on my arm," he said. "That means I won't be able to travel back home with you and the kids."

She shrugged and sipped on more juice brought from their new homeland.

"It just means I get to miss you again and we can have another reunion in our bedroom back in Birnin Zana."

He widened his legs and patted his thigh. Yani left her seat and sat on his lap. He rubbed on her booty again and rested his head on her breasts.

"I want to be on a houseboat with you…naked. Making long slow love under the moon and stars."

"We will do that soon enough."

"A whole month, you and me…partially alone."

"Don't remind me. Riki has already complained that they don't get to join us until two weeks into our honeymoon."

"Man, two weeks off with just you and me. Yeah, you definitely getting pregnant Yani."

She slapped his arm.

"Stop putting that out in the universe. We said we'd wait two more years before trying…and trying is the operative word, sir. I'm not taking the man-made contraceptive shots as tradition dictates, but I am taking precautions."

She held up the bluish drink she sipped on.

"This was given to me by Umama. Two glasses a day and it inhibits any eggs from fertilizing. You can shoot up the club and I won't be penalized for forsaking tradition…technically."

"Alright then…practice getting pregnant is good enough for me."

"Aren't three children enough for you already for the time being?"

"Nah. I'm making a whole new tribe with you."

"Easy for you to say, I'm the one who has to carry your big babies."

"I'll be right by your side spoiling you every step of the way. You make pretty babies, Yani, and my family's genes are strong. They all gonna look like me."

He kissed her neck and let his full lips linger there.

"Tell me you love me, Yani."

She cupped his chin and raised it.

"I love you."

"Say it again."

He nuzzled against her breasts and she stroked his lengthy locs.

"I love you. I love you. I love you," she said above his head.

Closing his eyes, N'Jadaka listened to Yani's heartbeat and rested in her bosom of peace.

Chapter 2 HERE.

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[blue-grama]

Jesus motherforking shirtballs

Or: I am asking every business journalist to take one (1) gender studies class before I tear my hair out.

This interview came across my dash and it's a lot of fun, particularly Apo's "dad joke" actually being a hilariously cringey pickup line, but one aside by the writer made me wince.

ASDKHGKJ. This is not the first time I've seen an article about BL or gay romance in general speculate that the reason female audiences enjoy gay male romance is because there are no other threatening, icky girls on screen. I find this exceedingly irritating and misogynistic and I'm gonna rant about it. Now, look. Maybe there are women-identifying people out there watching mlm romance because they are threatened by beautiful actresses. Maybe. I haven't met every woman in the world. But this reasoning is, in my opinion, some male-gaze bullshit and needs to be smacked down. A non-exhaustive list of reasons to like mlm romance that AREN'T based on some weird idea of female competitiveness and insecurity: 1. Queer people... exist? Look, the LGBTQ+ community alone isn't the reason KP had huge international success. Just numbers-wise, it was probably watched by more straight people than not. But ignoring that audience makes absolutely no sense, especially because sexuality is fluid and many viewers interested in LGBTQ+ media may be uncertain/exploring. Cultural anthropologist Thomas Baudinette has talked about how many "straight women" exploring BL turned out not to be so straight. It's a thing. (Here on Tumblr the LGBTQ+ audience is THE thing, but there's a lot of selection bias here, obviously.)

2. A good romance is a good romance

In my personal (and admittedly limited) experience, cishet men have a hard time grasping this, but give me a good, swoony romance and IDGAF about the genders involved. I've noticed this is very common among my female-identifying and nonbinary friends, regardless of their sexual attractions in real life. Good chemistry is good chemistry, a good story is a good story, and honestly it's kinda insulting to silo LGBTQ+ romance off as something you need a particular reason to watch, if you're someone who likes watching romance. 3. Female gaze

Look. Mile and Apo are blisteringly hot individuals. It's interesting this article mentions the action sequences and not the inherent appeal of, say, these two humans exploring each other's bodies in front of God and Deutsche Bank:

Perhaps it's a family publication.

But to get a little more thinky about horniness: If you're a female-identifying person interested in men, it can be a tough slog out there. I'm coming from a western perspective, where romance is looked down upon in general. (Asian media seems more willing to look at the romance audience and go "hmm... $$$!" instead of "ugh, girl stuff.") And even when you get romance-driven stories, the male gaze is fucking ubiquitious. I remember having my mind blown some years ago by Outlander -- a show I did not make it through otherwise -- because the wedding episode in the first season has a sex scene in which the camera lingers on the male lead's face. That is some female gaze shit that you just do not see. I just spent a couple minutes checking in with the sex scenes in Bridgerton, probably the biggest romance-genre hit in the U.S. in some time, made explicitely for a female audience in mind, and even there, the camera spends FAR more time on the female leads' faces in sex scenes. Presumably the idea is that the female viewing audience will be inserting themselves into the scene and imagining her pleasure as their own, but ... show me a man's O-face, you cowards.

KP (and BL in general) does that.

I mean, quite literally. But also figuratively - men are posited as objects of desire, and the viewer is the agent desiring them. Taking a straight female as our theoretical viewer: We're so, so socialized to see females as the objects of desire and men as the agents of desire that even media made with straight women in mind parks the camera on the female lead. BL turns that on its head. The female viewer isn't watching a stand-in for herself being desired. She's actively desiring. I hope it's clear that this is miles away from "other girls are threatening." It's about being the one with agency for once.

4. Removal of the burden of one gajillion years of patriarchical bullshit

This is like a trauma response or some shit, istg, but sometimes it's nice to watch a romance not weighed down by 300,000 years of hetero gender relations. How many times have we seen a female character who is just a male fantasy or who starts out great but gets ruined by bad writing and it's like... fuck. Someone has probably written about this a lot more eloquently and intelligently than me, but sometimes it's just like, geez. Leave women out of it. Let us rest. I'm joking a bit, and this entirely elides the fact that non-het relationships can be just as abusive and problematic as a het relationship out there in the real world, but in the realm of fantasy I do think there's an appeal to stripping away at least part of the gender discourse. Especially for a fully escapist show like KP -- personally, I love a good female character, but I did not have any problem with the dearth of them in that series. Don't make me worry, even subconsciously, about the mafia's maternity leave policy, okay?? Contrary to idea that the mlm aspects save some sort of self-insert space for me in that romance, I as a woman-identified person did not want to be anywhere NEAR that hot mess. I wanted a world that touched on exactly zero of my real-life concerns.

Ok, maybe one real-world concern: How to find a small animal vet at an inconvenient hour.

Anyway, like I said at the start, I can't possibly explain everyone's motivations for watching KP or BL or anything, really. The world is a rich tapestry and sexuality is not a simple binary. But boiling it all down to, "women are insecure" ain't it and I would love to see that explanation permanently retired from casual use. EDIT: I forgot the link to the original article.

[beardedmrbean]

While much of the West remains focused on conflicts in Ukraine and Israel, a barbaric assault on Africans is taking place, yet this is hardly noticed. There is an active strategy by certain politicians and the mainstream media to cover it up.

A struggle today for Africa launched by Islamic terrorists is something Western elites wish to ignore, even as thousands of innocents are being brutally murdered, raped, burned alive, and taken captive. It is mostly a war waged against black Christians by African Islamists—and therefore an awfully sensitive subject. The recent Christmas attack against Christians in Nigeria claimed the lives of almost 200 people, yet it was mostly ignored in the mainstream press.

Some took notice when this centuries-old religious conflict flared in 1989, as Sudan's jihad slaughtered 2.5 million Christians and enslaved perhaps 200,000 more. It ended only in 2005, when the U.S. helped broker a peace deal; in 2011, the south succeeded and become South Sudan, the world's newest nation. More recently, Islamist attacks have spread where Islamic and Christian societies intersect: Mozambique, Niger, and Mali. In Darfur, there is a bit of a twist: Arab jihadists are slaughtering and enslaving Black people who converted to Islam long ago, but refuse to adopt Arab culture and language and who, in addition to being thought of as racially inferior, are not considered real Muslims.

Since the mainstream media is mostly absent, people in the West do not know that these African communities are continuously facing attacks that look very like the widely seen Hamas raids. Yet any decent reporter can easily see the pattern—Islamic jihadists throughout Africa, driven by the near-identical supremacist ideology, storm our villages, slaughter our people with guns and knives, rape our women, and take dozens into captivity.

When African children and women are killed in their sleep, teenage girls sexually trafficked across the Mediterranean, and young boys kidnapped for use as child soldiers, there is no global response. Terrorism is planned, funded, and executed by terrorists and their global networks. Why are there no reports analyzing funders and planners of terrorist murder in Nigeria, of genocidal assaults in Africa?

Can it be because we are Black, and the world just doesn't care about us? Or is it that jihad is just too taboo a topic for the Western press and the human rights community? As the U.S. and Europe look away, we Black Africans die. How is this not a sin?

The U.S. confused the entire world with a narrative that blames climate change for religious conflicts in Africa. According to the State Department, climate change has been depleting water supplies in the Lake Chad region. A scramble for water resources sets nomadic cattle herders (who just happen to be Muslims) against the Indigenous subsistence farmers (who just happen to be mostly Christians), attacking them and banishing them from their ancestral lands. The stark but more inconvenient truth is that Muslim terrorists, waging an Islamic "holy war," are overrunning Christian villages throughout the Lake Chad area and north-central regions of Nigeria. The U.S. Department of State insists on tagging the violence as a farmers versus herders conflict, which, according to a 2023 travel advisory bulletin, "can flare up ... in rural areas." Though Nigeria is the place where 89 percent of the Christians killed for their faith worldwide in 2023 were murdered, the Biden administration removed Nigeria from the U.S. list of Countries of Particular Concern (CPC) for religious oppression, and has never put it back on.

This false narrative is used to obscure the unnerving truth about the nature of the conflict that, if acknowledged, would demand a serious effort by the U.S. to protect our vulnerable Christian African villages from people who want to slaughter and enslave us because of our identity. Our "climate" has changed when armed terrorists surround our villages. But the continued cloaking of Islamic terrorism in a weather narrative has exacerbated the killings and expanded the slaughtering fields of women and children in north-central Nigeria and the Sahel—the horizontal strip across north Africa which culturally divides Arabized Africa from the Indigenous, traditional cultures of the south.

The truth is plain and simple—terrorists take up arms. They kill and take Indigenous people captive. They annex and grab their lands. They call it jihad. Period.

The global community, especially the United States, seems to lack the will to address these genocidal onslaughts. Western inaction spells doom for Africans who are being overrun by jihadists.

What happened to the sleeping citizens in Nigeria's Plateau State, murdered in their hundreds during Christmas Eve 2023, is no different than what happened to Jewish families in their kibbutzim on Oct. 7. Yet no one takes notice. No one hears the cries of the survivors.

The world's silence about the plight of Africans must end.

Stephen S. Enada is executive president of the International Committee on Nigeria (ICON).

The views expressed in this article are the writer's own.

[ukrainenews]

Mutinous Russian mercenaries who surged most of the way to Moscow have agreed to turn back to avoid bloodshed, their leader said on Saturday, in a de-escalation of what had become a major challenge to President Vladimir Putin's grip on power.

The fighters of the Wagner private army were just 200 km (125 miles) from the capital, said the leader, former Putin ally Yevgeny Prigozhin. The rebels had captured the city of Rostov hundreds of miles to the south before racing across the country.

"They wanted to disband the Wagner military company. We embarked on a march of justice on June 23. In 24 hours we got to within 200 km of Moscow. In this time we did not spill a single drop of our fighters' blood," Prigozhin said in an audio message.

"Now the moment has come when blood could be spilled. Understanding … that Russian blood will be spilled on one side, we are turning our columns around and going back to field camps as planned."

The decision to halt further movement across Russia by the Wagner group was brokered by Belarusian President Alexander Lukashenko in return for guarantees for their safety, his office said. There was no immediate word on the deal from Putin.

Earlier, Prigozhin said that his "march for justice" was intended to remove corrupt and incompetent Russian commanders he blames for botching the war in Ukraine.

In a televised address from the Kremlin, Putin said Russia's very existence was under threat.

"We are fighting for the lives and security of our people, for our sovereignty and independence, for the right to remain Russia, a state with a thousand-year history," he said, vowing punishment for those who "who prepared an armed insurrection".

Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskiy said the Wagner revolt exposed complete chaos in Russia.

"Today the world can see that the masters of Russia control nothing. And that means nothing. Simply complete chaos. An absence of any predictability," Zelenskiy said in his nightly video address.

Video obtained by Reuters showed troop carriers and two flatbed trucks each carrying a tank driving 30 miles (50 km) beyond Voronezh, more than half way to Moscow. A helicopter fired on them near Voronezh.

More than 100 firefighters were in action at a fuel depot ablaze in Voronezh. Video footage obtained by Reuters showed it exploding in a fireball shortly after a helicopter flew by.

Further along the road, video showed, vehicles apparently placed as barricades to slow Wagner's advance had been tossed to one side.

Prigozhin, whose private army fought the bloodiest battles in Ukraine even as he feuded for months with the military top brass, said he had captured the headquarters of Russia's Southern Military District in the city of Rostov without firing a shot.

'WILL THERE BE CIVIL WAR?'

In Rostov, which serves as the main rear logistical hub for Russia's entire invasion force in Ukraine, residents milled about calmly, filming on mobile phones as Wagner fighters in armoured vehicles and battle tanks took up positions.

One tank was wedged between stucco buildings with posters advertising the circus. Another had "Siberia" daubed in red paint across the front, an apparent statement of intent to sweep across the breadth of Russia.

"Will there be civil war?" a woman in Rostov asked the mercenaries who took over the city. "No, everything will be fine," a fighter answered.

The region surrounding Rostov is an important oil, gas and grains hub.

In a series of hectic messages overnight, Prigozhin had demanded that Defence Minister Sergei Shoigu and the chief of the general staff Valery Gerasimov should come to see him in Rostov.

'SIGNIFICANT CHALLENGE'

Western capitals said they were closely following the situation in nuclear-armed Russia. U.S. President Joe Biden spoke with the leaders of France, Germany and Britain, while Secretary of State Antony Blinken spoke to counterparts from G7 nations.

The top U.S. military officer, Army General Mark Milley, cancelled a scheduled trip to the Middle East because of the situation in Russia.

The insurrection risked leaving Russia's invasion force in Ukraine in disarray, just as Kyiv is launching its strongest counteroffensive since the war began in February last year.

"This represents the most significant challenge to the Russian state in recent times," Britain's defence ministry said.

[beautifulpersonpeach]

Sorry pls ignore my last ask BPP. Your point about Seven being the 'Dynamite' equivalent in solo era is a good one and explains the treatment it got. After the BB article I also now understand why BH dropped LC. If BB believed the LC record was 'tainted' with Chinese cash and BH never had that 'Dynamite' promotion plan for it, everything that's happened makes sense. But it still leaves a nasty taste in my mouth. I can't wash it out. Are we now at the mercy of BB's whims? Also don't you find the support for Seven excessive? Is the elimination of direct to consumer sales enough to explain that kind of support to keep it number 1? I'm just trying to understand how the company is thinking about things without victimizing the members. They all seem to be still working with purpose so I feel they don't feel shortchanged, but from the outside looking inside it doesn't feel fair.

*

Ask 2:

Hi BPP,

Re: bb article

1. Do you think there will be additional changes coming, making sales even less relevant for bb charts?

2. I absolutely hate that it is again Jimin that takes the brunt of all this bulshit, I really do. He doesnt deserve this at all. But he is strong, he will be OK. That being said, its making me really upset IRL, so I will have to do some me time.

3. I would be interested to know your outlook on BB as a whole when it comes to BTS and their future in US market (if you have talked about this pls refer me to the post)

My opinion is, that while BB is paramount when it comes to big awards season, eventually BB and the awards themselves serve as a kind of promotion, to validate the artist to their (potential) fanbase, keep them invested etc. BTS guys do all of that on their own, with their music, personalities and lyrics. So going forward, if they dont chart as much, dont win as much... It will not matter in the long run. Their fan base is so solid that I trully believe they will have no problem selling multiple stadium stops 25 years from now. Easily.

There will be a significant fandom fall off, when all the people who are here for bragging rights lose their interest. And that is a good thing... But the people who will stay, who love the guys for who they are and for their art, those whose love does not depend on how many grammy noms or BB H100 they recieve... These people will stay and buy the tickets. And their numbers will still be enourmous. Enviable. More than the majority of the western industry plants can only dream of.

Rant over. Have a good weekend

*

Ask 3:

The latest Billboard discussion is disheartening, but the NYT article description of U.S. conservatives aping the tactics of Swifties and BTS fans to get their nefarious messaging across is even more so. Have we opened the gate for the Trumpsters of the world?

I was struck by this partvof the original question to you"

'... figure out a way to truly determine which songs are most popular (whatever that even means anymore)....'

So, how can we ever know what is truly popular? Are fervent fans willing to devote time and resources to get their fave to the top really the best arbiters? Even if they number in the millions, we are still looking at support that is far deeper than it is wide.

I mean, better than the suits deciding, I guess? Or is it just another group--this one outside of the target country--imposing their agenda on the population? One has the goal of making money; the other of winning a fan war.

So, how do we ascertain what is truly popular with the much-vaunted GP? Or doesn't it matter?

***

I've said many times on this blog that I'm not a writer, and that English isn't my first language, so I suppose it's unsurprising that despite my efforts putting my thoughts to paper/Tumblr, I'm still unable to fully communicate it in a way people understand right away, to eliminate/answer a lot of questions that I believe should be clear to infer from what I've written before. So rather than write a massive post like before where my key points could get lost, I'll pick out key questions from your asks and give fairly brief answers to each one. I'll work my way from the top, down.

Hi Anon(s),

Select answers below:

"Also don't you find the support for Seven excessive? Is the elimination of direct to consumer sales enough to explain that kind of support to keep it number 1?"

I think the results speak for itself. Dynamite and the PET got what is easily the biggest support any BTS release had gotten to date at the time - all of it tailored to mirror how American labels promoted their tracks, *and* the fandom had D2C sales buttressing it as the primary support mechanism. Like, please read that sentence again and think about what it means. Sales are the easiest and most transparent way for the fandom to influence charts, and so was always preferred for ARMY. Even if you weren't in the fandom then, understand it's impossible to overstate how much D2C sales mattered. With that now out of the question, everything we're seeing for Seven for me feels like a given, especially after the Billboard article.

"Do you think there will be additional changes coming, making sales even less relevant for bb charts?"

Yes. But not 'less relevant' in a sense, more like differentiated and treated as its own thing, perhaps in a separate chart.

"I would be interested to know your outlook on BB as a whole when it comes to BTS and their future in US market (if you have talked about this pls refer me to the post)"

This probably requires its own post but the long-short of it is: just like Ticketmaster, Billboard is only one arm of one of the largest private monopolies in the US entertainment market - PMC, and as such they serve as gatekeepers of sorts. Their interest in BTS (and k-pop by extension) lies primarily in how they can profit off the group/fandom, which so far BigHit and ARMY have created very limited avenues for. BigHit's strategy until now has been to expand BTS's reach without relying on the PMC apparatus, using it only for select releases that are explicitly tailored for it e.g. Seven and PET. While I don't think this strategy will change dramatically, every change from BB is to force more compliance with their apparatus. BTS will continue facing handicaps from PMC so long as BigHit continues limiting how PMC can profit from BTS for each release. (This sentence makes sense in my head but if it's not clear, please let me know.)

*

"Have we opened the gate for the Trumpsters of the world?"

Well, yeah. But ARMYs can't take all the credit. After all, ARMYs are only doing what the Bey Hive and Swifties have been doing for almost a decade with none of the scrutiny. BTS, more than any other group, actually has the absolute numbers in demand and grassroots support to justify it as they're comparable to the afore-mentioned artists, proven by their concert showings not just in the US but worldwide, as far back as 2018. People only started paying attention to ARMYs' movements because BTS didn't look like the sorts of people they expected to see at the top of the charts. Everybody took notice, including a political faction in the US that in recent years has moved more aggressively into the entertainment sphere to influence culture, such as Ben Shapiro's entertainment empire, movies like Sound of Freedom topping box office charts, and conservative country singers pushing Reagan-esque talking points to the top of music charts. So it's basically the result of timing and opportunity.

"So, how can we ever know what is truly popular? Are fervent fans willing to devote time and resources to get their fave to the top really the best arbiters? ... how do we ascertain what is truly popular with the much-vaunted GP?"

I've talked about this before I think. You can find my views on it in my Masterlist, and I've linked the post here.

*

People sent in more asks on BB but I've since lost interest in this topic and will post my responses when I feel like it, much later, using the same format I've used to answer the asks above. The truth is that while I understand why many people feel like everything that's happened so far with Seven and Jimin is unfair, I think a lot of the discourse is awfully reductive, actually does a disservice to Jimin and BTS, and that there's a much bigger picture here that's more consistent with how BTS has operated for the last 10 years.

This is probably not the best analogy, but one way I think of BTS is like a Swiss army knife, with each member being a separate tool. And that at different points, in various markets, BigHit and BTS are testing various approaches to expand their reach while aiming to maintain the market share they've gotten so far. The group has always had projects they release that have more artistic merit and cache, versus projects made by all appearances to be purely for commercial purposes to expand the reach of the group. For example, consider how BigHit promoted Butter/Permission to Dance, compared to the BE album, or how Seven was created and promoted relative to Indigo. To go back in even further in previous years, I remember how BTS appeared to center Jimin in Blood, Sweat & Tears era to build out his and their presence in Korea, and Taehyung in DNA era where his and BTS's presence in China ballooned in 2017.

While in the solo era some people feel like every accomplishment remains solely with individual members, I feel everything serves only one purpose: to further establish the group. Because by BTS's own words, they all have their individual ambitions, they've always had that and each member is aggressively competitive on that note, but they've each all said that their priority remains the group. Not everybody likes that, not everybody believes them when they say it, but the good thing with BTS is that they plan in multi-year stints and time always reveals what the facts of the matter are. We're only one year into Chapter 2, and while certain parts of the fandom are treating their solo debut albums as the be all and end all, I don't think there's anything to suggest this perspective lines up with the reality of how BTS has behaved for the last 10 years. I could be wrong, but either way we're just going to have to wait and see. In the meantime, I believe there's significant artistic merit in what the guys are putting out in Chapter 2, that I hope isn't lost in the noise. The fandom should do a better job of bringing the attention back to this, rather than a tunnel-vision on performance metrics that only tell half of the story.

[mariacallous]

The war would be over by Christmas. That was what everyone said, when Britain, France, and Germany went to war in August 1914. Maybe that’s why, by the start of December, with no victory in sight, there was a pause in the fighting along parts of the Western Front stretching from Belgium through France. And maybe that’s why, when singing broke out in the trenches on Christmas Eve, soldiers on both sides decided to risk a walk up into no man’s land and even, in one recorded case, a soccer kickabout. Troops on both sides sang “Silent Night” as snow began to fall.

The truce was never formally declared by any power. Although Pope Benedict XV had called for a cease-fire earlier in the month, it had been rejected by all parties. France and Belgium had little appetite for a truce with an invading army. And in a war between global, multiethnic empires, there was little agreement about the timing or the meaning of a Christmas truce for soldiers who were Muslim, Sikh, Jewish, Hindu, or Shinto. Even for Eastern Orthodox troops on the Eastern Front, Christmas would be a few weeks later.

Instead, there were spontaneous truces along the front lines. While both sides engaged in singing, many Germans had reportedly decided not to take any action from Dec. 25 to 27. In France, near Laventie, German soldiers started putting up Christmas trees along their trenches on the 23rd and their officers requested a meeting with their British counterparts. In their book, Christmas Truce, Malcolm Brown and Shirley Seaton report that the German officers “proposed a private truce for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day” that the British officers accepted. Similar informal arrangements were made up and down the front lines, with different results in different sectors.

The informal nature of the truce meant that not everyone participated. This is partly why the truce has now attained a mythical quality—many who were on the front did not experience it and so doubted that it had taken place. Even where peace seemed to prevail, officers worried that “the truce will probably go on until someone is foolish enough to let off his rifle.”

Across the Western Front, the Christmas truces came to an end at different points. By the 27th, rain had resumed and the soldiers were once again knee-deep in mud. Along some parts of the line, fighting resumed in January. But one soldier wrote home that part of the front near Ploegsteert in Flanders didn’t really see any action from the Christmas Truce until mid-March. The Battle of Neuve Chapelle in March 1915 definitively shattered the peace. Attempts for an Easter truce in early April were largely ignored.

The Christmas Truce that took place in the first December of World War I has transcended historical curiosity to become a feature of popular memory. Pop songs, TV shows, and even ads have all made reference to the events of December 1914. Why has it adhered in this way? What has it come to symbolize, more than 100 years on?

Regular truces were a typical part of pre-modern warfare. Staged battles left time for clearing the field, burying the dead, and regrouping. Informal encounters between soldiers did not always lead to fighting, and impromptu Christmas truces occurred in the U.S. Civil War and the South African War in 1899. In a way, the Christmas Truce appeals because it seems to point to the last moment of an older form of warfare. Given the horrors of the war to come, it seems poignant in its innocence.

The popularity of the Christmas Truce of 1914—even though it was not repeated for the rest of World War I—was not just as a token of nostalgia, though. It was also responsible for creating something new: the idea that there should be a Christmas truce.

One of the enduring legacies of World War I was the shift from an approach to humanitarian principles and human rights that was “episodic, empathic, and voluntary” to, as one scholar put it, a “permanent, professionalized, and bureaucratic” responsibility of states operating in a transnational network. Alongside these developments in humanitarian organizing, truces moved out of the realm of improvised, informal agreements between soldiers. Instead, they were called for and negotiated by states and transnational peace organizations. And they did so with the Christmas Truce of 1914 as a model.

For instance, in 1965, in the midst of the escalating Vietnam War, the Viet Cong proposed a Christmas cease-fire. Meant to parallel the cease-fire that had accompanied the Vietnamese Lunar New Year celebrations earlier in the year, it was embraced back at home and internationally by the peace movement. The truce was arranged with some skepticism on the ground. Even more so given the previous year’s Christmas Eve bombing of a hotel where many U.S. officers were staying. The truce was agreed to and formally communicated to both sides.

A newspaper report from the cease-fire explicitly echoed the coverage of the 1914 truce. “It was quiet—the guns of war were stilled by a Christmas truce for the first time in almost a year,” the paper reported. “And from the top of the hill, the words of ‘silent Night’ wafted down” as the men rested their rifles on their foxholes and contemplated what the Viet Cong forces made of the song.

At the end of the 48-hour pause, both sides accused each other of violating the cease-fire. Radio Hanoi reported that “in complete disregard for their proclaimed Christmas truce, the U.S. imperialists Sunday sent many flights of aircraft.” The U.S. argued that these were reconnaissance flights, rather than bombing raids, and that the “Communists had launched at lease 60 small attacks.”

What the soldiers of World War I accidentally stumbled on was a new form of propaganda. Christmas cease-fires build morale among the troops, but also more widely. A key feature in the rhetoric of war is convincing your side that the opposing side is not just wrong, but bad. Truces and cease-fires play into this: The side proposing the cease-fire paints itself as humane. Violations of the cease-fire are fodder for arguments that the violators are inhumane.

In foreign policy, the Christmas Truce endured because it turned out to be good for both international and domestic public relations. But as a result of this realization, Christmas cease-fires also became more top-down. While the soldiers were responsible for organizing spontaneous truces along the front lines in 1914, the Christmas truces of the Vietnam War and other more recent conflicts have been ordered by leaders, often in response to international pressure. In Vietnam, despite suspicion among U.S. troops that the Viet Cong “took advantage of the truce” to rearm and resupply its forces in the south, the Christmas truce was often implemented. While this provided respite and a chance for point-scoring in the media, some U.S. soldiers were left asking, “What good would it do?”

And they asked that with good reason. Christmas—and other religious holidays—have been just as likely to mark the beginning of a campaign, taking advantage of the enemy’s hope for some respite. George Washington crossed the Delaware River on Christmas 1776, surprising the British-allied Hessian troops in Trenton. During the Tet Offensive in the Vietnam War, the Viet Cong took advantage of the Lunar New Year in 1968 to attack while many of South Vietnam’s soldiers were on holiday leave. And then-U.S. President Richard Nixon broke the expected Christmas Truce tradition in 1972 when the U.S. launched its largest B-52 raid on North Vietnam in the course of the war. The Yom Kippur War in Israel began on the Jewish holiday in 1973. Operation Ramadan in the Iran-Iraq War launched to coincide with the holy month in 1982.

This explains the unease of the leadership in December 1914. In Laventie, one group of British soldiers was about to withdraw from the trenches on the 26th when a German deserter, taking advantage of the truce, crossed to warn them that an attack was imminent. The British soldiers fired artillery at the German trenches and then lay in wait for the attack. But it never came. And the Germans, put on alert by the artillery fire, similarly had spent the night in anticipation of a British attack.

In fact, while the 1914 Christmas Truce saw soldiers sharing tobacco and wine, Christmas puddings and songs at scattered locations along the trenches in Belgium and France, the Germans dropped their first aerial bomb on Britain, at Dover on Christmas Eve. On Christmas Day, the British used seaplanes to attack the Imperial German Navy, stationed in the harbor of Cuxhaven.

The 1914 Christmas Truce in particular has been read in popular culture as a moment when soldiers rejected their officers’ orders and rejected the nationalist propaganda that they had been exposed to, which demonized their opponents. The Christmas Truce appeals to the idea that ordinary people would get along if only they weren’t ordered to fight each other by their governments. In 1914, soldiers ignored officers and took risks to make human connections with people they were supposed to hate.

Christmas truces have subsequently become a regular prop in international diplomacy. In conflicts ranging from the Philippines to Colombia, Sudan to Ukraine, it’s hard not to see the Christmas Truce as having retained its mythical status precisely because of its usefulness as propaganda. Perhaps it would be better to remember the Christmas Truce as one poem concluded in January 1915: “God speed the time when every day/Shall be as Christmas Day!”

[deeptrashwitch]

Wraith

Name: Dominique Wright

Age: Late 40's

Profession: Station Chief (CIA)/ Main Coordinator (Specters)

Date and place of birth: [Redacted]

Residence: [Redacted] (She's been seen a lot around Killeen, Texas)

Height: 1,62 m/ 5'3 ft

Weight: 54 kg

Relationships:

[Redacted]

[Redacted]

[Redacted]

[Redacted]

[Redacted]

[Redacted]

There isn't much about "Wraith", only the nearest ones to her know part of her life, no one really is aware of her complete story. People only have details about her adulthood after she entered the CIA, and one of those details is that she has worked beside Watcher (Kate Laswell) during all her career. The reasons of their hate for each other is unknown, but apart of it, they work perfectly together.

She is one of the Station Chiefs along with Watcher, they are oficially assigned to Georgia and Nepal. But in reality, they are on the U.S coordinating a Team and a Task Force (Specters and 141 respectively), taking care of many threats across the world. And about the Team, she was given the idea by one of her superiors, and she looked for the Captain of the main squads.

Wraith met said Captain during a mission in San Marino during the early 2000's, and looked for her in 2018. During the years after the creation of the team Wraith has worked together with the Captain and the Lieutenant, but has done some research on the side, everything related with the former Task Force 267. And she has worked with Watcher's Task Force, looking for information about Six Aces.

Extracts of her notes

'I've considered Cpt. Marchant as the leader of this team, but her background keeps me doubting' (November, 2017)

'These soldiers are certanly amazing, but I'll investigate them just in case' (February, 2018)

'Western Sahara, how many people like this is still alive?" (March, 2018)

'Six Aces. How long is their influence?' (June, 2018)

'Who gave Michaelis the archive?! Why did it have that kind of things?! That was lost as far as I knew!' (October, 2018)

'Someone sold the 267. But who? Why? How did they met Carabalí?' (January, 2019)

'This new group is dangerous. I'll have to look about it. Six Aces.' (July, 2019)

'I can't believe she actually allied with Golden Empress, this will be a headache' (September, 2019)

[...]

'That bastard! We need to keep Black Tomb sealed!' (May, 2023)

'I need to warn Alicia. She mustn't go there...' (June, 2023)

[From here, the pages are ripped and stained with something similar to blood. For more details, look archive 9178293 and [redacted] new criminal record (archive 6183916)]