#richest white rapper in the world

[worldstarhiphopnews]

TOP 10 RICHEST WHITE RAPPERS💰 ( 2024 ) 💰 Forbes List

Join us, as we countdown the top 10 most richest white rappers in the game right now! Let's see how much money they actually have.

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TOP 10 RICHEST WHITE RAPPERS💰 ( 2024 ) 💰 Forbes List

YOUTUBE CHANNEL: World Star Hip Hop News

[teenandbeyond]

Shota Aizawa x Fem. Black Reader

I wrote this to flesh out the possible relationship between Aizawa and an OC for my fanfic.

Want more from me? 𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆

🐱Beauty at the Café🐱 (MHA or My Hero Academia)

Warning(s): Reader is a rich MILF (Kid is in his class), Bold=English

You and Aizawa have frequent meet-ups at a quaint little cat café...it's about time you met his friend Present Mic...

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

The first time you ran into each other was purely coincidence.

He heard of this newly opened cat café that was popular, yet somehow quiet and far from packed.

And he liked cats, so why not check it out?

You sponsored the café due to the owners being young, you wanted to support them as a fellow cat lover and owner. They wanted you to try out all their dishes for your opinion.

You noticed him as he sat down at a table next to yours.

"Oh. That you Eraser head?"

He slowly turned his head, recognizing the voice, "Ms. [Last Name]."

You leaned your head on a fist with a pearly white smile, "I'm both surprised and unsurprised to see you here."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked dryly.

"You kinda seemed like a cat kind of man, that's all. Funny we ran into each other, though."

"What are you doing here? This isn't usually the area people in your class enjoy."

You chuckle, "Even the rich like cheap when we're modest—But actually, I'm here on business."

"Business. Sounds about right for the richest woman in the world," he turned his attention to a soft-looking Birman.

"Cinnamon."

"What?"

"That's her name. Cinnamon."

"Oh."

Eventually, he would sit at your table with you. And eventually the length of conversation grew.

Once he realized you weren't some snobby rich lady, he was quite a bit more comfortable with you. But he wasn't too surprised, your daughter acted far from spoiled. Had no idea she was a rich kid until he met you and learned you were her mother.

He was glad one of his favorite students had a good parent to match.

And even though he didn't want to admit it, he was really starting to warm up to you.

He wasn't the biggest fan of the business suits, heels, and overall made up look. He wasn't one to care about appearance that much.

But your coiled hair, thick and natural...

He loved the feeling of freeness it gave off, it took away the intimidating classiness that clashed against his...he didn't know.

And he supposed you weren't always dressed to work, sometimes he saw you in casual and steetwear. Baggy clothes, tees with the faces of old rappers, heavy boots and cardigans.

He admittedly liked when you wore comfy clothes better.

But he thought you could pull of anything.

You best accessory to him other than your hair was your smile. Which was saying a lot coming from a guy who wasn't the happy type.

But there was a problem.

Someone was onto him, noticing he was going out more.

Hizashi.

So Aizawa tried to be slick, hide you from him...

But he should've known his friend better than that.

"You don't need to come with me."

"I just wanna see what's so great, that has you coming here every other day! You never go out this much."

"I like cats."

"Sure, cats," the blonde smirked, "You met a woman there didn't you?"

"No."

"You did!" he gasped, "Is she there now?"

"I don't know."

"I want to meet her!"

"That's not necessary."

When Hizashi laid eyes on you, he had to lower his shades, he was in complete disbelief.

"Huh...she's actually very pretty."

Aizawa glared at his friend, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I just thought it'd be someone sadder-looking, like you. That seemed like it'd be more your type."

Aizawa can only sigh, then you happen to look up mid-bite.

You smile and wave to the familiar pro-hero as he approaches, "Hello, again, Aizawa. How've you been since the last time I saw you?"

He groans, sliding into the booth seat across from you, "Could be better. Got tailed this time."

You lean forward on a fist in intrigue, observing the person accompanying him, "You're a friend of Aizawa's...Present Mic, right?"

"You can call me Hizashi!"

You and Hizashi seemed to get along swimmingly, which made Shota feel both fond and annoyed at the same time.

Then he lost you both when you started speaking in English.

"Nah, there ain't no way!"

"Yeah, that's what he did," Hazashi was cackling like a hyena.

"That villain was tweakin'! What did he think you was finna do? Let him just do that? Crazy!"

Apparently when you were comfortable, your English became more casual. Aizawa thought it was cute.

Then he decided he did enough social interaction for one day.

But just as he and Hizashi went out the exit, he sharply turned to him.

"What?"

"Give me your phone real quick, Shota."

"Why?" he narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

"Just trust me."

"I'm not trusting that smile," but Shota gave it to him anyway.

Hizashi ran back inside and Aizawa impatiently waited until the blonde came out with a goofy grin, handing him his phone back.

"Why are you smiling like that?"

"You can thank me later. And look, you already got a text!"

Aizawa looked down at his phone. Your name was on the screen and lo and behold, there was a single text.

'I had fun! It was nice to see you again Eraserhead o(^▽^)o'

"Whoa! Is that a smile I see?"

The minuscule smile was gone, "No."

"It waaas!" he gently elbowed his lonely looking friend.

"It wasn't.

"You think she's cuuute," he poked Shota's side.

"...Whatever."

"You didn't deny it! Who would've thought you could pull?

"Shut up, idiot.

'coffee's on me next time if youre up for it.'

[voskhozhdeniye]

I'm glad she said Chris Rock. I've been thinking about one of his jokes lately.

20 years ago, he said he lived in a neighborhood with two other black people. Jay-Z and Mary J. Blige. The joke goes, Jay-Z, one of the biggest rappers of all time. Mary J. Blige, one of the biggest R&B singers of all time, and himself, a lowly comedian. His neighbor is a white doctor. Not one of the biggest or best doctors in the world, just a regular doctor.

Three houses in that entire neighborhood belonged to black people, and all three of them had to be world wide celebrities to get in.

The joke ends with him saying that he's the richest person in the room right now, and not a single white person in there would trade places with him..........

[jourdepluie91]

The Rise and Fall of Diddy: A Deep Dive into the Life of Sean Comb

Sean “Diddy” Combs was one of the most powerful men in music. He is a rapper, singer, actor, producer, and record executive, and one of the most influential figures in the American music and entertainment industry.

On September 16 (U.S. time), Diddy was arrested in New York on multiple charges: rape, sex trafficking, coercion, abuse, and using extortion and violence to control victims. Diddy is currently being held in a jail under strict surveillance to prevent any suicide attempt.

This incident has shocked not only the U.S. but the entire world, implicating numerous big Hollywood stars and other powerful figures. Many are now questioning just how wealthy and powerful Diddy must be to manipulate all of Hollywood.

As one of the most prominent and successful rappers, Diddy has been nominated for the Grammy Awards 14 times and won 3 times. He was honored with a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame in 1995. In 1997, Guinness World Records awarded him the title of the most successful Rap Music Producer.

With his achievements in music, Diddy built a diverse business empire, spanning music, fashion, liquor, and media. His influence in the music industry extends beyond producing and performing; he is also known as a businessman who continuously expanded his ventures into multiple industries.

In 1993, Diddy founded his own record label, Bad Boy Records. Three decades later, he has expanded his influence in the music industry, amassing an enormous fortune, the largest in the hip-hop world, making him considered the richest rapper of all time. In 2022, according to Forbes, Diddy’s net worth hit $1 billion. While this figure has since decreased, it still remains above $600 million.

From the 2010s, Diddy ventured into acting. He starred in a comedy film that grossed $95.5 million at the box office. Besides that, Diddy has also appeared in several reality TV shows. In 2013, he launched Revolt TV, a cable television network focused on music and culture.

Diddy also has a collection of supercars from various brands and price ranges, including a Lamborghini Gallardo Spyder, Maybach 57, Rolls-Royce Phantom, Chevrolet Corvette, Ferrari, and more.

Given his immense wealth, it’s no surprise that Diddy leads an extremely lavish lifestyle, owning luxury mansions and real estate. He has two main residences in Los Angeles and Miami, as well as multiple other properties scattered across the U.S., each typically worth tens of millions of dollars.

Sean ‘Diddy’ Combs indictment explained: alleged ‘freak-offs,’ drugs and prostitution

Alleged drug-fueled orgies, force and coercion, prostitution and a cover-up are at the core of a searing three-count federal indictment against Combs.

Combs is depicted as the leader of an alleged criminal enterprise, subjecting women, men and even minors to a pattern of physical and sexual abuse, according to federal prosecutors.

Houston attorney Tony Buzbee said he expects lawsuits to be filed within the next month, with most expected to be filed in New York and Los Angeles. Buzbee described the victims as 60 males and 60 females, and that 25 were minors at the time of the alleged misconduct. One individual alleged he was 9 years old when he was abused, Buzbee said. The allegations cover a period from 1991 to this year.

Investigators allege that, over a span of years, Combs would ply victims with narcotics and even resort to violence and intimidation during days-long sex sessions.

Numerous social media videos describe Diddy’s alleged “freak off” parties as multi-day sex orgies involving heavy drug use, gallons of alcohol, and large quantities of baby oil and lubricants.

These events, according to reports, would start after his famous “white parties,” which attracted celebrities like Leonardo DiCaprio, Will Smith, Paris Hilton, Jennifer Lopez, Bruce Willis and Mariah Carey.

When the A-listers left, a more secretive, hedonistic party would begin in back rooms, featuring Diddy and a select group of friends.

Michael Kaplan of the New York Times explains how as the night wore on, only a few select guests would remain for the more debauched events.

Kaplan also recounts a drug dealer’s testimony from one of these parties, where he allegedly witnessed male-on-male sexual activity among rappers, which shocked him.

According to federal prosecutors, Combs did not act alone, although no one else has yet been charged in the case. Combs allegedly had assistants, managers and security staff who made sure that women and male prostitutes were present at these "freak off" events and that the hotel rooms where they were staged were stocked with supplies like baby oil and lubricant.

Some of the alleged conduct also took place at auditions where “many times, especially young people, people wanting to break into the industry were coerced into this type of conduct in the promise of being made a star,” Buzbee said.

Combs has been locked up at the Metropolitan Detention Center in Brooklyn since pleading not guilty Sept. 17 to federal charges that he used his “power and prestige” to induce female victims into drugged-up, elaborately produced sexual performances with male sex workers in these “freak offs.”

Other alleged victims have already filed lawsuits against Combs that include allegations of sexual assault.

Combs has pleaded not guilty to racketeering conspiracy and sex trafficking. His attorney said he is innocent and will fight to clear his name.

[celebchatter360]

Uncovering the Most Iconic Rappers of All Time: A Journey Through Hip-Hop’s Most Influential Voices

When it comes to hip-hop music, the question of who is the most famous rapper is a highly debated topic. The genre has grown significantly since its inception in the 1970s, with countless artists rising to fame over the decades. Some of the biggest names in hip-hop have become cultural icons and have helped to shape the sound of the genre in their own unique ways.

One rapper who is often considered one of the most famous in the world is Tupac Shakur. Despite being tragically killed at the young age of 25, Tupac’s impact on hip-hop is undeniable. He was one of the first rappers to incorporate elements of political and social commentary into his lyrics, and his music still resonates with fans over two decades after his death. Tupac’s ability to tell raw, real stories about life in the inner city, and his ability to express his emotions and thoughts on controversial issues, made him a voice for the voiceless and a symbol of resistance. His music continues to inspire new generations of hip-hop fans and artists alike.

Another rapper who has been widely recognized as one of the most famous in the world is Eminem. Born Marshall Mathers, Eminem exploded onto the scene in the late 1990s with his critically acclaimed album “The Slim Shady LP”. He quickly established himself as one of the most talented and controversial rappers in the game, known for his fast-paced rhymes, dark sense of humor, and brutal honesty. Eminem has sold over 150 million records worldwide, making him one of the best-selling music artists of all time. He is also one of the few white rappers to achieve widespread success in a predominantly black genre.

Another rapper who is considered one of the most famous of all time is Jay-Z. With a career spanning over two decades, Jay-Z has released multiple classic albums, won numerous awards, and become one of the richest and most influential hip-hop artists of all time. He has also helped to shape the sound of hip-hop with his unique style, which combines smooth flows, clever wordplay, and introspective lyrics. Jay-Z has also been a pioneer in the business world, having founded several successful companies, including Roc-A-Fella Records and Roc Nation.

Finally, there’s Kendrick Lamar, who is widely considered to be one of the greatest rappers of all time. Kendrick has received universal praise for his thought-provoking lyrics and introspective storytelling. He has tackled issues such as race, politics, and social justice in his music, and his ability to challenge his listeners has earned him numerous accolades and awards. Kendrick’s unique style, which incorporates elements of jazz, soul, and funk into his beats, has made him one of the most innovative and influential rappers of his generation.

In conclusion, when it comes to the most famous rapper of all time, there is no single answer. Each of these artists has made a significant impact on hip-hop in their own way and has become a cultural icon in the process. Tupac’s political and social commentary, Eminem’s controversial humor, Jay-Z’s business acumen, and Kendrick Lamar’s thought-provoking storytelling are just a few examples of what makes each of these rappers so special. Ultimately, the most famous rapper is a matter of personal opinion, but one thing is for sure: these four artists will forever be remembered as some of the greatest in hip-hop history.

[santaclausdeadindian]

I mean rap is very often violent and explicit, especially nowadays and rock is way less so imho, also, rap is fucking everywhere so more in your face all the time, so that reputation is quite earned.

So yeah, inconsistent and hypocritical, but not racist or classist. There are white rappers, among others and in fact there are places where they are the majority, by a lot.

The classism part is outright silly, you think there is money in rock? Or you think white people are automatically rich and blacks poor? If black people in america were a country, it would be the 17th richest country in the world.

I would also argue there is a palpable difference between the usually very realistic portrayal of violence in rap and the usually ridiculously over the top depiction in rock (or rather certain niche subgenres of it).

"I don't like rap it's too violent" yk a lot of its not real right. People lie sometimes in poetry it's called figurative language

[amymorrison35]

„Now is where you draw the line. Enough.“

Shivers ran down my spine when I read her last public words under this picture on Instagram. Kasia Lenhardt, a German-Polish model allegedly commited suicide at the age of 25. I won‘t comment on the various allegations against her, she never had the chance to speak on her behalf. What I will comment on is that another beautiful soul, woman and mother took her own life because of a witch-hunt she had to endure.

I‘m especially shocked because she was the one woman whose pictures always made me think: Oh, it must be so easy for her. I pushed those thoughts away because I knew this was untrue and I am no one to think this way usually, but her beauty was just so breathtaking. She looked so fierce and confident. Who could cause this powerful woman any harm? Or so I thought.

If God granted me one wish I‘d tell him to take all the hate away from people’s hearts. Hate isn’t only the cause for wars and persecution; bullying, bashing and trashing people hurts them in ways that in many cases exceeds physical violence. The words just never go away, they literally shatter your soul to pieces until there‘s nothing left of it. And then it doesn‘t matter anymore what you possess, what you look like or which people surround you - you could be the richest, most handsome white man in the world with the best friends and family - once you‘re finally dead inside there is nothing left to live for.

Somehow we often think public figures aren‘t affected by the hate, or that they shouldn‘t be - they chose to be in the public eye after all, they should have known what it means, they likely don’t even realise all the shit people write about them while they bathe in money, right? Wrong. They are human beings just like you and me. They have feelings and deserve to be treated with respect. They don‘t have a magical shield protecting them. They hurt if they get hurt. And let me tell you, I witnessed a well-known German rapper, who you’d think of as an arrogant, spoiled asshole that doesn‘t care about anything they say about him, dissolve into a puddle of tears in front of my friend, because he couldn‘t take all the hate any longer.

Since God doesn‘t grant me any wishes I ask you to question yourself every time you feel the need to say or write anything negative and hateful about someone. Is it really necessary to put this thought out there? Probably not. You never know what it does to the person that it‘s directed at. It could be the last straw for somebody.

How many people have yet to commit suicide so that we finally stop spreading hate?

Kasia, your death didn‘t go unnoticed. I‘m so sorry for what you had to go through. You were so strong for holding on as long as you could. You will be remembered.

x, x, x

Rest in peace.

Ruhe in Frieden.

Spoczywaj w spokoju.

x

[greylunar]

Hey!! I'm a hot mess right now who cant enjoy art anymore so if you could help me solve this out I would appreciate but i understand if you can't so here's the deal: Is being rich while people are starving unethical? And if so how can I enjoy my favorite artists, rich people, knowing this? I mean it's obvious you want you and your loved ones to live comfortably but there's a point where is just too much, right? And all these big artists that I love they are way above the threshold of too much.

This is probably my favorite ask I’ve ever gotten only because I wasn’t really expecting anyone to ask me about this particular political and philosophical question, and I, an anarcho-socialist English major, have some thoughts on the subject, to say the least. Let me preface this by saying there’s no right answer to this question, as much as I wish there was one, and I can only give my opinion and how I’ve chosen to go about my life. That said the majority of people on this site are still pretty young. I’d encourage you to take my opinion with a grain of salt and ask other people you trust and read more theory so you can form what you think is the right way of going about consuming art for yourself! Regardless, I’m really proud of you for asking this and interrogating these sorts of topics within yourself, it can be hard to maintain the balance of keeping hope while attempting to live ethically within capitalist society, but the fact that you are trying is commendable, and it’s my hope that more people asking questions like this will bring about the change we wish to see in the world c: 

Alright, answer under the break!

For starters, yes, I do believe being rich is unethical. While there is a multitude of reasons for this being the case, the one you brought up (hunger) is more than enough reason on its own. Now, no one rich person could end hunger, or at least not permanently. Estimates on how much it would cost to end world hunger range from 7 billion to 265 billion USD annually according to the IFPRI, which sounds wild right off the bat, since those are two unfathomably different numbers, but basically the difference boils down to the 7 billion dollar approach aiming to reduce malnutrition to World Health Assembly goals in about 15 years, and the 265 billion plan aiming to actually end world hunger (reach a “zero hunger target”) within about 20 years by targeting the sources of hunger, mainly being poverty and agricultural infrastructure. 

So when you hear people say things like “why doesn’t Bezos end world hunger” one short answer is that he can’t. But the fact that he can’t doesn’t really matter because what really matters is he’s not trying. Without getting into liquidizing stocks and all that nonsense, if the ten richest people in the world made a one-time donation of 60 billion each, we would have enough and then some for the first two years of that zero hunger target plan by that alone. And the “poorest” of those ten billionaires would still have a net worth of 15 billion, which is still an unfathomable amount of money. 

I say all of this to point out why it still matters to say the rich aren’t doing enough to end world hunger, and not to say that this is my ideal plan for solving it (which involves a lot more social restructuring and abolishing the value-form). I think if someone wakes up with billions in assets it a capitalist society in which the median “living wage” (which includes covering basic expenses, building savings, and having “fun money”) in my country is roughly $67,700, they must have woken up on one of those days and thought “oh hey what if I ended hunger in my home town” or “oh hey what if I funded a food co-op in a food desert nearby” or maybe even “what if I fucked around and tried to end world hunger” and then they didn’t. They turned around and went back to sleep, or went to a business meeting where they continued to exploit their workers or did whatever it is they do that I will never understand. And I think that is unethical. 

Here’s the thing, and I’m sure some people will disagree with me on this one (I’m more than happy to read anyone’s replies and take them into account going forward) there’s a difference between corporate wealth and celebrity wealth. Do I fucking hate looking at pictures of Drake’s mansion? Yes, completely. Do I think that, like Mark Zuckerberg, he should be tried for crimes not limited to aiding and abetting ethnic violence in Ethiopia and failing to remove a militia event in Kenosha in which people planned to kill BLM protesters and then did, proceeding to lie about it in order to continue to profit off of the traffic and internet buzz white supremacists provide his site with? No, because Drake is not Mark Zuckerberg and there is a difference between what crimes it takes to make and uphold a 170 million dollar net worth versus a 98 billion dollar one. While I’m not jazzed to say the least about millionaire celebrities lounging in their wealth, in a way they are a very successful worker being rewarded by a capitalist society in exchange for a service they provide. So yeah, I feel more comfortable cheering on John Boyega for succeeding in a system set against him than I do any corporate capitalist.

That said, there are ways to support the art you love and strive to consume art more ethically. Support local artists, black artists and other creators of color, artists who support sustainable printmaking or give part of their proceeds to charities you care about. In terms of music, for every band you like that has problematic views there are thirty small bands with similar sounds you can support if you go looking. If you find a band you think is doing great work, support them on Bandcamp or buy a CD, and if you really want to listen to Kanye’s Power because its just that kind of day, listen to him on Spotify, where they’re literally paying people jack shit for it.  If you’re going to participate in a capitalist society (and if you’re not, let me know how since I haven't figured that one out yet haha), reward the people you feel good about supporting. 

Speaking of which! One of my favorite rappers noname has an online bookclub that uplifts POC voices by featuring two books a month.  It’s awesome, noname is awesome, and I feel good whenever I listen to their album for the thirtieth time because telefone is the best. There’s art out there for you to feel good about loving. Sometimes it just takes a little digging to find.

I think my last note is going to be this: art is human. Art isn’t capitalist. People have been making art before capitalism and they’ll be making art after, art is an expression of the pain and hope and past and future of us, and we need it. To try and cut yourself off from consuming art to distance yourself from capitalism won’t work, because we need art to be human, and it was never capitalist in the first place. You aren’t evil or unethical for wanting to consume art, that’s the most natural urge in the world. It is a sign that our system is unethical if it makes us feel guilty for the things that make us human. So consume art, love it, love the people who make it, because its the good stuff. It’s the stuff that makes the rest of this more hopeful and more worth it. I know this can all feel like so much sometimes. But you’re not alone. There so many people out there working to make the world better and brighter, and making art to get us through it. I love you, and I hoped this helped even a little bit and I’m sorry its so long haha. I hope today is a little better for you than yesterday, and tomorrow’s even better than today c:

[taswhapstuff]

Ignoring African history makes you stupid

Akala I hope you don’t die man you truly are a man of great knowledge and have opened the eyes of many ignorant people in this world, who have been brainwashed by the whitest of winners in history. The reason I hope this man doesn’t die is because this isn’t the first time an African has stepped up and tried to make the world understand that black people were just about as much of great leaders and great people as any white person. We’ve seen people like MLK Jr, Malcom X, 2pac, XXXtentacion, all of which were either becoming or were influencers, they educated us, reminded us, and did not let us forget that black people all matter. However, it is because they were against the government they were killed, now this hasn’t been proven but to me I see it very clearly that every time some black influencer steps up and when he’s just gaining some steam, BLAM! he’s gone. Now the reasons can be this and that for their deaths but we’re not here to talk about that, we’re here because Akala is providing us with knowledge that isn’t new, but knowledge that has already been stitched in history, just covered up by powerful winners of the world (who were white). 

Kingslee James McLean Daley (better known as Akala) is a British rapper and political activist, he uses his music and the fame he’s gotten to send his message to the world, so that we hopefully can see that a lot of African history isn’t taught. Akala first brings this up by talking about one of the greatest ancient civilizations in the world, The Egyptians. Did you know (you probably know by now after watching the video) that majority of Egyptians were black? wow not a shocker as Egypt IS IN AFRICA. However, historians did not want the world to believe this fact because throughout history black people have been considered as only slaves, people of dirt level, no higher than the dog and only serve to the greatest race ever, that’s right Caucasians. There are even DNA tests of Egyptian skulls one of which was Tutankhamun and he was actually black! but history won’t allow this as again, black people were identified as uncivilized monkeys and couldn’t possibly be one of the greatest ancient civilizations ever. 

Akala also speaks of one very important key part of history that was mentioned by a historian named Ivan Van Sertima, black people were the first to ever reach America. The reason for this claim was because there were African people on the new world before the whites first appeared. Abubakari II was the name of the Mali empire back in the day, and guess what? he was the one that discovered America before any white person! Abubakari II 1 - Christopher Columbus 0. It’s not enough that Abubakarai II was the first African to discover the new world, but did you know that the richest person ever in human history was also black? His name was Mansa Musa and this just further proves that black people aren’t all slaves, they are just as capable of success as any damn white person out there, it’s only because they were oppressed that they couldn’t find a way to share their voice in this cruel world of ours. 

Though history has lied to us numerous times it has also provided us with much knowledge and even if it was distorted, I’m thankful for it because without all of the events we have discovered from the past, we might not have much of a world or education in today’s world. However, as I am grateful for history I also spit on it, for it isn’t fair that so much black history has been put under the thumb of historians just because they decided that it was better off to say blacks were dirty slaves, and that was it. The past is the past and it can’t be helped, but maybe we can all learn a thing or two from Akala and hopefully he does make a greater impact to the future generations of today’s world. 

Marko

[orbemnews]

Amazon Walks a Political Tightrope in Its Union Fight WASHINGTON — Amazon is aligned with the Biden administration on several fronts. It backs a $15-an-hour federal minimum wage. It has pledged to meet all the goals of the Paris climate agreement on reducing emissions. It has met with the administration to discuss how to help with the distribution of Covid-19 vaccines. But a union drive at one of its warehouses in Alabama has the retailer doing a political balancing act: staying on the good side of Washington’s Democratic leaders while squashing an organizing effort that President Biden has signaled his support for. Amazon workers in Bessemer, Ala., have been voting for weeks on whether to form a union. The voting ends Monday. Approval would be a first for Amazon workers in the United States and could energize the labor movement across the country. Labor organizers have tapped into dissatisfaction with working conditions in the warehouse, saying Amazon’s pursuit of efficiency and profits makes the conditions harsh for workers. The company counters that its starting wage of $15 an hour exceeds what other employers in the area pay, and it has urged workers to vote against unionizing. Labor leaders and liberal Democrats have seized on the union drive, saying it shows how Amazon is not as friendly to workers as the company says it is. Some of the company’s critics are also using its resistance to the union push to argue that Amazon should not be trusted on other issues, like climate change and the federal minimum wage. Amazon has always fought against unionizing by its workers. But the vote in Alabama comes at a perilous moment for the company. Lawmakers and regulators — not competitors — are some of its greatest threats, and it has spent significant time and money trying to keep the government away from its business. Amazon’s business practices are the subject of antitrust investigations at the Federal Trade Commission and in multiple state attorney general offices. Mr. Biden on Monday nominated Lina Khan, a legal scholar who came to prominence with her critique of the company, for a seat on the F.T.C. “I think everyone is seeing through the P.R. at this point and focusing on both their economic and political power,” Sarah Miller, a critic of Amazon, said about the company. Ms. Miller, who runs the American Economic Liberties Project, an antitrust think tank, added, “I think the narrative is cooked now on their status as a monopoly, their status as an abusive employer and their status as one of the biggest spenders on lobbying in Washington, D.C.” Drew Herdener, Amazon’s vice president for worldwide communications, said in a statement that the company shared common ground with the Biden administration on climate change, immigration reform, the minimum wage and pandemic policy, and was “seeing really positive collaboration on those fronts” with the White House. “As it relates to progressive Democrats in general, we’ve been surprised by some of the negative things we’ve seen certain members say in the press and on social media,” he said. “If there’s a progressive company in this country, it’s Amazon. Find me another large company paying two times the minimum wage, providing great health benefits from Day 1, 95 percent education reimbursement, safe working environment, and so on. We really think we are an example of what a U.S. company should be doing for its employees.” Amazon spent $18.7 million on federal lobbying last year, compared with $2.1 million a decade ago, according to the Center for Responsive Politics. Its lobbyists press their employer’s case on a variety of issues, like how drones are regulated and the laws that govern pharmacies. Consumers adore Amazon. In late 2019, a national survey by The Verge, a technology news site, found that 91 percent had a favorable view of the retail giant. When professors at Georgetown and New York Universities asked Americans in 2018 which institutions they had the most confidence in, only the military ranked higher than Amazon. Still, when Jeff Bezos, the chief executive, testified before Congress last year, he faced accusations that the company squeezes the small businesses that use its online marketplace. A liberal philanthropic organization funded a network of activists to press Amazon on privacy, competition and labor issues. They have also attacked Mr. Bezos, the richest person in the world by some measures, for his personal wealth. Amazon has made efforts to reach out to the new administration. Dave Clark, who runs the company’s consumer business, sent a letter to the White House in January offering to help with the distribution of the coronavirus vaccine and met virtually with Jeff Zients, the White House’s coronavirus coordinator, to discuss the vaccine rollout. In December, the company also hired the lobbyist Jeff Ricchetti, whose brother, Steve Ricchetti, is a longtime aide to Mr. Biden and now a counselor to the president. In the final quarter of last year, Amazon paid Jeff Ricchetti $60,000, according to disclosure forms he filed with the government. The company’s top lobbying and communications executive, Jay Carney, was a communications director for Mr. Biden during the Obama administration. President Barack Obama later named Mr. Carney the White House press secretary. He has deep relationships with Mr. Biden’s inner circle, and has played in a garage band with Secretary of State Antony Blinken. Under Mr. Carney’s leadership, Amazon has taken steps to satisfy its liberal critics. In 2018, Senator Bernie Sanders, independent of Vermont, attacked the company over its wages. Not long after that, the company announced that it would raise its minimum wage to $15 an hour and push federal policymakers to do the same. “We listened to our critics, thought hard about what we wanted to do and decided we want to lead,” Mr. Bezos said in a statement at the time. Amazon has promoted the $15-an-hour minimum in ads in publications frequently used to reach government officials, including Politico and The New York Times. Its lobbyists have pushed for a federal law raising the wage. The union organizers in Bessemer have increasingly attracted support from the White House and top lawmakers in Congress. Labor leaders spent weeks pushing Mr. Biden’s staff to have him weigh in on the election at the warehouse. Their lobbying paid off: In February, Mr. Biden appeared in a video that didn’t mention Amazon explicitly but was seen as a clear sign of support to the union. In the video, he said there “should be no intimidation, no coercion, no threats” from employers in coming union elections, including in Alabama. “I didn’t speak with the president directly, but my understanding was that the second this hit the president’s briefing book, he was like, ‘I’m in,’” said Sara Nelson, the president of the Association of Flight Attendants. The Senate majority leader, Chuck Schumer of New York, and Speaker Nancy Pelosi of California both support the unionization effort, as do many other Democrats in Congress. “We’ve got to protect every worker’s right to form and join a union, and to bargain collectively for better pay, quality health care, a safer workplace and a secure retirement,” said Senator Patty Murray, a Democrat from Washington, where Amazon has its main headquarters. “That absolutely includes the Amazon workers in Alabama, just like workers in Washington State and across our country.” Amazon’s opposition to the union drive could scuttle some of the good will it established among Democrats with its support for a higher federal minimum wage, some liberals said. Mr. Sanders said he appreciated Amazon’s help on the minimum wage. “On the other hand,” he said, “to my mind, I find it hard to understand why Jeff Bezos, the owner of Amazon and the wealthiest guy in the world, worth about $182 billion, is spending millions of dollars fighting a union organizing effort in Alabama, where his workers are trying to organize for better wages and better working conditions.” But he said he would ultimately approach the company “issue by issue.” Mr. Sanders will appear at a union event in Alabama with the rapper Killer Mike on Friday. Mr. Clark, the Amazon executive, responded to the news with derision on Wednesday evening. “I often say we are the Bernie Sanders of employers, but that’s not quite right because we actually deliver a progressive workplace to our constituents,” he said on Twitter. It recalled the message Amazon had waiting for a delegation of progressive lawmakers who met with union representatives in Alabama this month. At the warehouse, workers held up a large banner with text in bold letters: “CONGRESS: PLEASE MATCH AMAZON’S $15/HOUR MINIMUM WAGE!” Karen Weise contributed reporting. Source link Orbem News #Amazon #Fight #Political #Tightrope #union #Walks

[fabulizemag]

Here Is A List Of Rappers Who Would Be Good Comic Book Villains

New Post has been published on http://fabulizemag.com/2018/04/here-is-a-list-of-rappers-who-would-be-good-comic-book-villains/

Here Is A List Of Rappers Who Would Be Good Comic Book Villains

With Krondon aka Tobias Whale killing it as one of the best black villains that have hit television in a long time, it made me think about others rappers who would be great villains as well. Most rappers already have created their unforgettable persona and have even made themselves the bad guy in the hip-hop world. So it wouldn’t be too far-fetched for them to collect a check to boss people around, scare folks and even kill people who get in their way. But not all villains are created equal, right? Here is a short list of rappers who I think, if given the chance they would make some bad ass comic book villains. Some don’t even need practice.

KRS-One

I mean he thinks he’s the greatest rapper already and is always ready to battle. He doesn’t care about the community like he claims he does unless they follow his totalitarian views of blackness. He also doesn’t mind black people being harmed for the culture. He would make the perfect street villain that wants to run his community without actually making progress.

Diddy

Diddy, Puffy, P-Diddy, Puff Daddy – all those aliases are perfect for making a villain. He would be like Lex Luthor sans the mastermind. He would be the richest person in the city and would buy all the local politicians and community leaders to turn a cheek to his shenanigans and low-tier world domination plans. He would ruin careers and profit from everyone he knows.

Missy Elliot

Missy would be a genie. Now whether she would be a good genie or bad genie would be up to the user who finds her. No matter what path she chooses she would have dope theme music and wear fly, shiny outfits. Her hair would also be laid. Her lamp would be filled with marijuana smoke.

DMX

Nigga! Before Mahershala Ali was Cottonmouth, there was DMX. DMX would whoop your ass and your favorite superhero ass. DMX is the villain we all want but don’t deserve. He is so good of an actor he’s getting movie scripts in jail right now. He would be the hitman of a villain whose loyalty is paid-for-hire only.

Killer Mike

Killer Mike would be the fake intellectual villain that only attacks women. I could see Misty Knight or Jessica Jones beating his ass for trying to argue with them over his bullshit word salads while wearing his plastic non-prescription glasses. He would be the villain that partners with bigger bad guys to make himself more valuable but would get killed for being a goofy.

Black Thought

Black Thought would be the wordsmith. He probably wouldn’t talk much until it was absolutely necessary. Whatever he says would become a reality. Like literally. He would speak your death into existence with 16 bars. He would be like some mystique ass warlock. He would be unfuckwittable.

Busta Rhymes

Busta would be super animated. He would run up on you and your crew with clown masks on and they would be rock colorful outfits. Their guns would look like super soaker guns but would probably be filled with poison. He would be in the back of the strip club doing all types of illegal activity while doing coke. He would be like the Joker but not as psychotic.

Queen Latifah

The Queen would be a BOSS, She wouldn’t have special powers but she would be well connected and make people disappear with one phone call. She would eliminate you, especially if you disrespect her. Killer Mike would be DOA. She would be the first black, mafia recognized leader. Politicians would fear her and gangsters would respect her.

Erykah Badu

Badu would be a witch. She would be able to channel the souls of her former lovers and use their powers to control others. She would hypnotize people who stared at her too long and her herbal teas would be conjuring recipes to either cure or kill. She would be hexing hoes.

LL Cool J

We all remember In Too Deep right? So bet, LL, could be a street-level boss. He would probably hire DMX if things got too hot and he didn’t want to get too much blood on his hands. He wouldn’t have as much money as Diddy but he would be more respected in the streets. He’d also be the one to off Killer Mike.

Kanye West

Outside of being vocal about supporting #45 and already looking like a Golden Lord, Kanye would be a villain driven by his temper tantrums and narcissism. He would convince the community he is fighting for them but he would never help them and he would actively support politicians and public figures that want them to die. He would provide quality entertainment to fool the public but the Queen would discover his weakness for white women that want to look like exotics and she’ll make him cry in public.

CeeLo

CeeLo would be a robot from outta space. He’s not human. His spaceship looks like a cross between the Yellow Submarine and P-Funk Mothership. He would wear bizarre outfits and stroke his cat just like Doctor Claw. He would be like Mojo Jojo with a lighter, raspy voice looking for people to conquer with his tunes and loud, abrasive outfits.

Snoop Dogg

Snoop like the Queen would be a mafia-like villain. He should be on the next season of The Punisher. He would control all the marijuana on the coast and everyone would need to go through him. He’d probably have to off Kanye for being so goofy and loud but he’d be cool with DMX and LL Cool J. Depending on the situation, he might even be cool with Latifah. Snoop would be nasty with guns but that wouldn’t be his first option but you wouldn’t want to press your luck with him either.

So what do you think of the list? Who would you add? Let us know.

Peace!

[thetvsports]

FIGHTS: Floyd Mayweather, Logan Paul, Anthony Joshua, Tyson Fury, Billy Joe Saunders

In this week's Fight Talk we look at how fans, fighters and followers of boxing reacted to the news that Floyd Mayweather will be taking on YouTuber Logan Paul in an exhibition bout in February.

We also find out how Tyson Fury responded to Anthony Joshua's offer of management and discuss what's next for Billy Joe Saunders after the Briton defended his WBO super-middleweight title against Martin Murray on Friday night.

Pathetic? Or free money for Floyd? Mayweather-Paul set for February

Mayweather: arguably one of the greatest and gifted boxers to ever grace the sport - 15 world titles, a five-weight champion and 50 straight wins.

Paul: a social media star with a professional record of one fight, one loss.

As if the world of boxing couldn't get any stranger, it seems one of the most talked about fights for 2021 will be the future hall-of-famer versus the YouTuber.

On Sunday, Mayweather announced he will be taking on fellow American Paul in a "special exhibition" bout on 20 February…

https://www.instagram.com/p/CIeQ8EmFJNq/

In 2017, Mayweather beat UFC star Conor McGregor in what was the richest boxing bout of all time.

And with Paul's loyal YouTube following of 22 million subscribers, there is a possibility that Mayweather-Paul could surpass those pay-per-view numbers.

So how did the boxing world react?

American lightweight Ryan Garcia, who himself has a huge social media fanbase with 7.7 million Instagram followers, had this to say…

With the bout likely to bring millions of new eyes to the sport, WBA 'super' world super-featherweight and lightweight champion Gervonta Davis is keen to get involved…

Davis also tweeted Paul's brother and suggested the two get it on in the chief support to the main event. Jake Paul is also no stranger to the ring, having knocked out former NBA basketball player Nate Robinson last month.

Meanwhile, rapper Snoop Dogg, who won over fans earlier this month with his somewhat unorthodox commentary on the exhibition bout between former fighters Mike Tyson and Roy Jones Jr, is keen to take the mic again…

Meanwhile, UFC president Dana White simply said: "When people ask me, 'what's the state of boxing right now?' That's where it's at."

White also referenced Paul's loss to British YouTuber KSI in 2019, adding: "Didn't that kid get beat up by the video game kid from England and now he's going to fight Floyd Mayweather"?

'Money' Mayweather is not one to shy away from the limelight (and earning a dollar bill). In 2008, he ventured into the scripted world of World Wrestling Entertainment to 'fight' 7ft wrestler The Big Show.

And the WWE also had a bit of fun with the announcement of Mayweather-Paul...

"Pathetic", "embarrassing", "shameless", - as you might expect, boxing aficionados were not best pleased…

Although some fans don't blame Mayweather for taking on such a seemingly easy pay day...

Like it or loathe it, it seems that Mayweather-Paul is happening. And with still over two months of build-up to come, you can expect a lot of trash talk and more riled up hardcore boxing fans.

Fury turns down Joshua's offer of management

Away from exhibition bouts and YouTubers, the fight every boxing fan wants to see is an all-British super clash between the two best heavyweights on the planet - Joshua and Fury.

As Joshua prepares to defend his IBF, WBA and WBO world titles against Bulgarian Kubrat Pulev on Saturday, there was a bizarre exchange between the two rivals this week.

Speaking to the Mail,

Joshua offered his management services to Fury, saying: "Let us handle his career. He's a superstar in the making. With the right management, he could go all the way."

It's fair to say that WBC champion Fury was far from impressed with the offer...

https://twitter.com/Tyson_Fury/status/1335870639295651840

What next for Billy Joe Saunders?

This past Friday, WBO super-middleweight Saunders dominated fellow Briton Martin Murray in a unanimous points win.

It was an assured performance from Saunders, who now notched up 30 straight wins as a professional, but these former fighters now to see the 31-year-old in a career-defining fight against the world's best...

Saunders was close to finalising a deal to sign superstar Saul 'Canelo' Alvarez earlier this year, before the coronavirus pandemic halted boxing.

With Canelo now fighting Britain's Callum Smith in Texas on 19 December, Saunders is eyeing up the Mexican for next year.

"Everyone wants Canelo, I hope Smith beats him. If not, that's the fight in the new year I want," he said.

[fionaharnett]

Written by Frank Natter

Here is the speech I gave today Before I properly begin, I think it is also important to state that I am not here representing Grenfell United. I am a supporter of their campaign and I work with them to make their videos, but I am not a member of Grenfell United. I didn’t lose any family members in that fire, nor did I survive it. Grenfell United is composed, solely, of those people directly and profoundly (profundamente) effected by the fire, for obvious reasons. It was only by calendar errors that a member is not sat with me today. I am here as last year my friend Hannan showed the film I co-made. It was deeply moving to have the film translated into Spanish and to hear of its appreciation. It is an honour to be invited to speak this year. With that said, let me begin. I have a confession to make, I didn’t read up enough on you all before I came here. I therefore find myself in a place, where I find myself a kind of heretic (hereje). You see, I am not wedded to non-violence. In certain contexts, and in many historical moments, I will defend political violence - the Haitian revolution for example. Moreover, I have never found myself at home in Gandhian philosophy, his actions in South Africa, organising to be considered a class/caste/race above Africans racialised as black foretold (predicho) the hierarchies that would define the battle he had with the anti-caste (casta) resistance hero, Ambedkar. My appraisal of the Gandhi and his legacy cannot detach itself from the figures of resistance who preceded him, who used violence, nor from the violence of partition (dividir) that followed, tearing Pakistan from India and bringing about millions of deaths and the largest forced migration in human history. I come from a philosophy where you need both Martin Luther King and Malcolm X to achieve justice, and I follow the logic that the necessary response to the assassination of MLK was the forming of the black panthers. I say this all, not to prod or poke to seek debate or fury, but to make proper sense of the position I hold at this moment in time, and to put in a context the poem that I will end this speech on. It would be disingenuous (insincero) any other way and I think frank and open discussion is what we all came for. With that said, despite my philosophical and political differences, I am here to represent a campaign - like that of Fateme’s - that is non-violent by necessity. Political violence was not an option for meaningful change in the wake of the state crime at Grenfell Tower, because of the state’s power and the vulnerability of the communities affected by the fire. For those who are not aware of what happened at Grenfell, allow me to explain. On the 14th June 2017, a fridge caught fire in a fourth floor flat in a social housing tower block with 24 floors. The fire spread to the external of the building. Within twenty minutes, the fire had spread to be uncontrollable. It engulfed (envuelto) the building. The fire service responded with a policy to contain the fire, “stay put.” Their advice was for people to stay in their homes. This ended up as a death sentence for many of the 71 people who perished that night, 72 if we add Pily Burton, who died due to health complications from the fire months later. The fire service were not prepared for the fire they faced on that night, an inferno that haunts in unimaginable ways those who witnessed it, fought it, lived through it or spoke to family members as they breathed their last breaths. The reason the fire service were not prepared was because deregulation has allowed for buildings to be covered/clad to buildings that some fire experts hold should not be allowed on dog kennels (residencia canina). The insulation and cladding that was on Grenfell was the equivalent of 30,000 litres of petrol. Margeret Thatcher began the process of deregulation (desregulación) that killed, but it was not solely her doing, the fatal change came from the ‘socialist’ New Labour. This was the outcome of what I will call the market state, what we generally call neo-liberalism. The power of finance capital over our lives has meant global corporations are in many ways more powerful and financially secure than our nation states, so they get to determine the policies and regulations that exist to preserve our lives. Grenfell was a sign of how bad things had become. The reason 30,000 litres of soldified petrol was clad to the homes of over 300 people at Grenfell Tower (and hundreds of thousands more across ‘Great’ Britain) was because companies like Arconic and Cellotex could tell the government and local authorities that their products were safe without lab testing, this is called ‘desktop studies’. They allow somebody like myself, with no scientific knowledge beyond the basics, to combine materials based upon reports that were not independently lab tested. Allowing corporations to regulate themselves put hundreds of thousands at risk of death across the UK and killed the family members of my friends and traumatised a community I love. Not only that, in the aftermath of the fire, in the words of our former prime minister Theresa May, there was a “failure of state.” The community of north Kensington, where the fire took place, were abandoned by the state and left to fend for themselves. Grenfell was the UK’s Katrina, it exposed the rot of our system. If you hear the names of the deceased read out, you will hear names from across the world. People who had come to Britain fleeing the war in Syria died in Grenfell. In Britain, despite not only 15% of the population being non-white, racialised groups are most likely to live on the top floors of tower blocks. No one from the highest floors at Grenfell survived. Grenfell was a crime that cut along race and class lines, in a very serious way, but it also transcended them. So since then, we have campaigned, we have fought, we have argued, we have screamed, we have cried, we have weeped and we have exhausted ourselves in the fight for a justice that seems so elusive. The reason justice is as elusive is because so many people are implicated in this crime. Central government were warned of the dangers; fires in the UK and abroad had warned of the issues, they were ignored. Calls were muted, messages were ignored. Government ministers in the previous administration were warned 21 times of the threat of Grenfell. They did nothing. Their names are Eric Pickles and Gavin Barwell. But they are not the only ones responsible for this. Arconic - the developer of the cladding - in its own brochure, said the cladding should not go beyond 10 metres. Grenfell was 67 metres tall. Their head of UK sales targeted the local authority (The Royal Borough of Kensington and Chelsea and the Kensington and Chelsea Tenant Management organisation) for the sale of the materials. The local authority - the richest in London at the time - applied needly austerity (austeridad) measures to the redevelopment and it led to mass death. Criminal culpability (culpabilidad) is easy to establish here, the charge we have for such offences is manslaughter (homicidio involuntario). But as the rapper Lowkey put it, this shows in extreme fashion how neoliberalism kills people. It was deregulation that spread the fire from the outside and austerity within. You see the fire did not spread just from the outside but inside as well. The richest local authority in London, one of the richest spaces in Europe, did not even invest in proper fire doors. In 2008, we saw the logic of too big to fail applied. Bankers who crashed the economy and indirectly killed millions through the damages that spread like a tidal wave were too central to the system to face criminalisation. With Grenfell, the logic is the same. To pursue meaningful justice would, by its very nature, undermine the system as we know it. So these corporations and bodies - and the people who sit above them - are too big to fall. So what has been done? There have been many who have operated for those affected by the fire, but few have acted with. Again I will refer back to Fateme’s speech, with a slight rephrasing: everyone was speaking about Grenfell, very few were speaking with those most affected. Much of the early politics around Grenfell were problematic, and threatened social order. Political violence seemed a very real possibility in the immediate aftermath, because of the state’s failure and the nature of the intrusions coming into the community, in large part by the media. Much of the work undertaken has been to keep up resistance, without falling into violence, which would benefit the state. Grenfell United formed shortly after the fire, their first aim was humanitarian, it was to look after those most in need. The second phase was to sort things out, to get people rehoused, to extend support. Their third phase has been to campaign for fundamental change. They have successfully campaigned - again by necessity - for the government to adopt new regulations for buildings, which though limited and not by any means what was demanded, they have achieved. They have got hundreds of millions released by the government to assist local authorities to remove these materials from buildings. Yes, my government, despite the fire, had to have the survivors and bereaved campaign to remove this stuff. And they still haven’t done anything but the basics. The other day, almost two and half years since the fire, the government finally removed the cladding from a children’s hospital. Let that sink in for a minute. This stuff is on homes, hospitals, schools, student accommodation across my country, and much of the world. The majority of buildings covered with this stuff in 2017, before Grenfell, still are now. That is a crime unto itself, in my book. The government have used anti-terror laws to hide the extremity, but we all know who the terrorists are here. So what are my demands? 1) Housing is a human right 2) That housing must be fit for human habitation, it must be clean, it must be hooked up to utilities, and it must be regulated, people must live in places that do not kill them. 3) That standard for housing should be universal, housing regulations have to cut across borders, because no one in the world should have to face what happened at Grenfell, nor live in the conditions that we know exist across the third world, I have the recent fire in Bangladesh in mind and extend my deepest solidarity with those affected. 4) Those at a state level implicated in such crimes, and those in the board rooms, have to face the same justice as the rest of us, this is bound to my second demand. If you provide a home that kills, you face the same justice as if I give you a pill of cyanide (cianuro) and call it a sweet. Yet, in my country, this is not the case, and it is the sixth largest economy within the world. We are going further into the problems that caused this in the first place. Regulation is seen as anti-business, not pro-life. We are not alone here, this is the case now for the majority of the world’s population. It may not be fire safety, but corporations - aided and abetted by governments - are putting us at increasing risk of death. This makes me violent in my mind. I am not serene. I do not find compassion for those responsible in my head or heart. I am driven to stand up against these people, to tell them as loudly as I can that in my book they are criminals and I will keep saying their names. There are many more names I could say, but for the time being, we are still hoping that the British state will do its job and criminalise these people, so certain people will remain hidden, for now… Yet, the process of taking the steps, of walking, of collectivising for a common sense of justice is what we have done. We have walked two marathons as a collective since Grenfell by meeting silently and walking on the 14th of every month. Our silence has lasted the best part of a week, if you add it all up. And we will continue to do this, not because we think it will deliver justice, not because it is tactically astute (astuta), not because it hits the pockets/wallets/money of our oppressors, but because it is a way of us coming together, marking the date, taking stock and cementing the bonds in what promises to be a very long struggle for any sense of justice. With that all being said, I will end on a poem I wrote about the silent march. If any of you come to visit London and you are there on the 14th of the month, come and join us. Follow Grenfell United and Grenfell Silent Walk on social media for more information and to follow the campaign. We walk in silence out of respect. We walk in silence because we are mourning. We walk in silence because even if we didn’t know someone who died directly, someone who lost their world could be standing next to us. We walk in silence because words so often offend. We walk in silence because to speak is to vent and to vent is to rage. We walk in silence because if we spoke, our throats would burn. We walk in silence because otherwise our fists would quickly come to talk too. We walk in silence because our muted presence should scare those responsible. We walk in silence because we cannot say a word that the events of the 14th June don’t speak for us. We walk in silence because we carry the weight of history and the burden is easier in quiet. We walk in silence because it pains those who wish to speak for us. We walk in silence because if we even whispered about what justice looks like in totality, the streets would stir with revolt. We walk in silence because it is stealthy. We walk in silence because we are waiting to be done right by. The silence has an end point. The silence is not there to comfort the powerful, it is to soothe those living with hell. The silence speaks for itself. Respect what it says. Don’t speak over it.

Written by Frank Natter

[babykooks]

FUCK YOU - [ JIKOOK ]

In which you have the first sentence your soulmate will say to you tattooed on your shoulder, Jimin’s being “Excuse you, your morning boner is poking at my thigh”.

Even though Jungkook doesn’t have as bad luck as Jimin does, he isn’t completely satisfied with his “Fuck you” tattoo either.

Jimin had been only three when his mother had told him about soulmates for the first time. He could remember it like it happened just yesterday. That was how clear the memory was. “Jimin,” she’d said, sitting him down on his bed with an intense look in her eyes. “In your life, you will meet one person who is unlike anyone else. You’ll feel a pull towards them - the first time you lock eyes, you will feel like you’re suddenly whole again, after feeling like you’ve been missing something, no, someone your whole life.

You’ll know them when you meet, but if you ever doubt yourself, a tattoo will appear on your shoulder when you turn five. The first words they’ll ever say to you will be carved into your skin until the day your soulmate says them to you, the very day you’ll first talk to each other.”

Here, she smiled. Like she was remembering something amazing, something special. “And when you meet them, Jimin, don’t you ever let them go. If you lose them, you will feel broken again, and you will lose your will to live and die. Don’t you ever let them go.” Jimin had thought that the first words his soulmate would say to him would be beautiful and poetic, that the words he would get would be something he could treasure.

Boy, was he wrong.

On his fifth birthday, his whole family gathered around the little boy. On the precise time he’d been born, his shoulder had started to bloom with a numbing pain, just like he’d been told multiple times before.

It took ten minutes - twenty, tops - until the feeling had finally started to fade. That was when he got the courage to glance at the tattoo resting on his collarbone.

“Mom, what’s a boner?” He had asked, as innocent as a lamb, after reading the sentence. She’d gasped harshly, as had most of his relatives, then took a look at his shoulder.

Excuse you, your morning boner is poking at my thigh.

At the time, he had no idea what a ‘morning boner’ was, but as the seasons changed and the years passed, he found out exactly what it meant.

And Jimin started to wish that soulmates didn’t exist, so badly that he almost believed it.

Almost.

Because no matter how hard he tried to lie to himself, the truth was that he had the tattoo on his shoulder, and it would never change. And honestly, Jimin couldn’t help hating his soulmate just a bit for it.

*** Jimin pulled the oversized black and white striped shirt over his head and looked at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. The shirt left quite a bit of shoulder exposed, and he sighed as he traced a finger over the words. The black letters looked harsh on Jimin’s tan skin, and it made him cringe.

He’d gotten used to the tattoo over the years, but his friends hadn’t. Because of his (stupid) soulmate, he’d become the butt of fifty too many jokes, and, whenever his friends laughed, he wanted to break the nose of whoever would be brash enough to say this.

Stupid soulmates. Jimin had sworn, when he’d been seventeen and incredibly annoyed after a particularly harsh (but slightly funny) joke, that the first thing he’d say to his soulmate when he met them, no matter who they were, would be a big “fuck you”.

That was what he thought about as he squeezed a generous amount of thick foundation on his fingers and started to spread it on his tattoo. His friends were bad enough; he didn’t need any strangers seeing it at today’s party, which was being hosted but the richest and most arrogant brat on the whole campus. Probably the whole freaking world.

Jeon Jungkook.

Jimin didn’t know the guy - hell, he hadn’t even talked to him - but he already didn’t like him. He was handsome and rich, and he definitely knew it. Jimin only had agreed to go to the stupid thing because his best friend, Hoseok, had convinced him to. In fact, Hoseok wanted Jimin to go with him so he could hook him up with Yoongi, Jimin’s other best friend. Not an exciting prospect, honestly.

“Jimin, come on! We’re going to be late!” Hoseok yelled through the bathroom door, banging on the wood with heavy fists. It was ten o’clock in the evening, and Hoseok was eager to meet with Yoongi, who would (hopefully) be his date for the night.

“Shut up, I’m coming,” Jimin mumbled, putting the foundation away when his tattoo was covered up the way it was supposed to be. He unlocked the door and pulled it open, glaring. Hoseok knew he hated being rushed, and his roommate gave him an innocent smile.

Hoseok was dressed in black skinny jeans and a plain white top, a blazer and sneakers thrown on for good measure. Very billionaire-playboy-chilling-with-a-glass-of-scotch.

“Woah, you look good”, he complimented him, and Jimin’s glare turned into a smile. He’d parted his hair to reveal his forehead, and even though he wasn’t the most confident person, he felt good about the way he looked for once.

“Now, can we go?” Hoseok pleaded, with big doe eyes for effect, and Jimin sighed.

“Fine, let’s get this over with,” he mumbled, grabbing a pair of black boots. Hoseok watched him pull them on, and Jimin muttered, “Calm down,” just when he was pulled out the door.

***

“Oh my God, I’m so nervous, I think I’m going to puke. I think I look green, do I look green?”

Jimin rolled his eyes, smiling fondly. Hoseok had been rambling for the past half hour, while they walked to the mansion where the party was supposed to be.

“You’ll be just fine, don’t worry. He might seem a bit cold, but I swear he’s all rainbows and unicorns inside,” Jimin said, doing his best to pry his best friend’s claws off his shirt (it was a gift, after all). He snickered when Hoseok kept muttering, ‘oh my God,’ as they arrived. The house was a mansion, almost as grand as Gatsby’s. What else would you expect from a rich brat?

As they made their way to the front door, Jimin started to look around. Yoongi had promised to be here; he owed Jimin a favor, which was why he had agreed to be Hoseok’s date for tonight. Otherwise he probably would’ve just stayed home, writing music in the almost-dark as usual (Yoongi’s dream was to be a famous rapper).

When Jimin finally spotted him, lounging near a wall with a stereotypical red solo cup in his hand, he grabbed Hoseok’s hand and started making his way towards the dark-haired man. Hopefully, he wouldn’t move before they got there.

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, that’s Yoongi right there, oh my God, he looks so good”, Hoseok repeated the words like they were the only thing keeping him alive. It was a good thing the music was so loud, otherwise Yoongi would’ve heard. Hoseok was right, Jimin admitted to himself. Yoongi was dressed in all black, with a snapback pulled over his eyes, like in all of his rap videos.

Jimin pushed Hoseok towards Yoongi, who had noticed them and was now standing up straight. Jimin winked and gave Hoseok a thumbs up before he melted into the crowd.

He didn’t need to be a third wheel for the whole night. No, he’d much rather spend his time with some good ol’ shots of strong, liver-killing alcohol. Jimin wasn’t someone who drank often, but his choices were a) be sober and painfully alone or b) be alone and roaring drunk.

Not a hard choice, really.

He found his way to the alcohol and poured himself six shots with a smile on his face. Now that’s what we are talking about. He downed his first shot after he found himself a place to sit (he wasn’t planning on being in any condition to stand for much longer). From his spot, he could see almost everyone in the giant room. His eyes skipped over people until he saw someone he really didn’t want to.

The host of the party. None other than Jeon Jungkook himself.

Jimin scoffed. He was leaning back on the couch, girls and guys surrounding him with a girl in a silvery-blue dress on his lap. Jeon threw his head back in laughter.

He downed the second shot the moment he saw that stupid rich brat sucking faces with another student (wasn’t he Namjoon?). He was nowhere near drunk enough to see that. Another shot disappeared, burning its way down his throat.

A weird feeling bubbled in his chest as he watched the two suck each other’s souls out. He couldn’t quite give the emotion a name, but it felt a lot like… jealousy? No fucking way. Jimin almost laughed out loud at his thoughts, downing a fourth shot. They didn’t even know each other.

The rest of the night was a blur, but he was fairly certain he had ended up drinking way more than six shots. It resulted in some awkward interactions with other students, who were nearly as drunk as him, and of course, he had blacked out on the mansion’s floor before the party had even finished. He could’ve sworn he had seen Yoongi and Hoseok get along well. Of course, if your definition of getting along was kissing rather shyly in a secret corner.  

***

Jungkook saw the boy in the striped shirt the moment he’d walked in.

His silver hair that reflected the light perfectly, his plump lips that he bit when he tried not to laugh - every single thing about him seemed to draw him in. He’d come with someone who looked incredibly nervous, was that his boyfriend? His eyebrows furrowed, ever so slightly, and he shook his head. Why did he care? It was none of his business.

Still, his gaze followed him (wasn’t his name Park Jimin, or something?) intently as he navigated his way through the people in the party, until they reached a guy who looked like he’d rather be anywhere than here. The silver-haired male pushed his friend - something Jungkook had just realized -  towards the guy who had been leaning on the wall. He was short, like Jimin.

Jungkook watched Jimin slip into the crowd, the two boys left looking awkwardly at each other. He rolled his eyes. The two clearly liked each other; what was so hard about talking to each other and actually sharing a conversation instead of awkward, yearning glances?

Jungkook tried to find Jimin, but it was like he’d disappeared into thin air. Had he left? A weird feeling of desperation flushed through the Jungkook as he moved to sit on the couch, people crowding to sit around him. He spotted Jimin a few minutes after, sitting alone with a tray of shots in front of him. Jungkook watched him drink shot after shot, and grinned at the cute way he scrunched up his nose after every single one.

Woah, cute??

Time to move on.

Jungkook turned towards the group he was sitting with, mostly to Namjoon, who sat right next to him. Namjoon was good-looking, he couldn’t deny that, but why didn’t his dimples make him feel all warm and fuzzy inside? Why didn’t his smile make his stomach flip like Jimin’s smile did? Would Namjoon’s lips make Jungkook feel the way he felt when he saw Jimin?

That was what went through his mind as he leaned towards the platinum-haired male and captured their lips in a kiss that Jungkook found anything but passionate. He could taste alcohol in Namjoon’s mouth, and it most definitely didn’t make butterflies fly around his insides.

He felt like throwing up when he finally pulled away. That was their first and last kiss, Jungkook decided right then and there.

He bolted up from his seat and headed towards the bar - because alcohol was exactly what he needed to drown his feelings.

All Jungkook could remember after that was downing way too much whiskey, keeping his hands to himself way too little, and getting way, way too drunk.

***

Jimin let out a groan as he forced his eyes open, then let out another when he screwed them shut again. The sun was high up already, and the room  was annoyingly, incredibly bright.

There was an ogre in his head, kicking his brain and making everything tremble as revenge for last night. He almost wished he’d stayed at the dorms, cuddling into a fuzzy blanket while reading a good book. But the feeling of being carefree, being completely weightless, was worth the headache. And the nausea.

Jimin shifted to his side. There was something warm and soft, and he burrowed into that soft something, letting out a content sigh. That soft something smelled really nice, pine and cologne and something else, and he breathed in deeply.  After a few minutes of being comfortable, he heard a rumbly voice rasp entirely too close to his ear.

“Excuse you, your morning boner is poking at my thigh,” the person groaned. The way his voice scraped around the edges made heat flood in his chest, like slipping into a warm blanket.

Jimin whined and nuzzled his face into the soft material, mumbling a small “fuck you,” as he did. A few seconds later, the soft something, or someone disappeared, and he hit his head on the cold, hard floor.

His headache split his head in half.

“Ow! What the fuck?” He yelped, sitting up and rubbing his eyes with the tiniest hint of a pout on his lips. When he finally managed to open his eyes, he jumped, nearly six feet in the air.

Jeon Jungkook was sitting in front of him, all messy dark hair and eyes that sparkled in the sun. Jimin’s heart jumped into overdrive.

“What did you just say to me?” Jungkook questioned, leaning forward ever so slightly, which made Jimin lean backward ever so slightly.

“Um, ‘fuck you’?” Jimin suggested carefully, playing with his hands and looking at his lap.

“Oh my God,” Jungkook mumbled. Jimin’s eyes turned into saucers when he started to take his shirt off.

“W-What do you think you’re doing?” he stuttered, failing miserably at trying to sound annoyed. Moments later, a sigh slipped past his lips at the image of Jungkook shirtless, the sun hitting his skin like he was a god.

And no, it wasn’t because of Jungkook’s toned chest or abs, not even his arms or beautiful golden skin, but because of the tattoo on his shoulder. Exactly where Jimin’s was. Exactly where the soulmate tattoo was supposed to be.

Fuck you.

“Are you kidding me?” Jimin snickered, his nervousness vanishing. He traced a finger over the words, curling black on golden skin, and nearly smiled when he felt Jungkook shiver. “Does that mean you actually just said ‘excuse you, your morning boner is poking at my thigh’?”

Jungkook’s cheeks turned rosy, the prettiest shade of pink Jimin had ever seen, and he looked down on his lap when he nodded. For once, not the arrogant, spoilt brat. “Sorry about that,” he said, “it must’ve not been a very nice thing to have on your shoulder.”

But Jimin didn’t care about that. He didn’t care about any of that, anymore.

He had finally found his soulmate, his missing piece, and my God, was he beautiful.

“You stupid, rich brat,” Jimin smiled, carefully leaning towards Jungkook. His lips curved into a soft smile, headache long forgotten.

“You stupid shortie,” Jungkook muttered just before their lips met. It was like Sunday afternoons, warm and comforting, but there was a layer of passion, just underneath.

And Jimin felt a hole he never knew he had disappear.

(A/N) Ahhhhh the end! Such a fluffy oneshot i LOVE JIKOOK OK

ALSO special thanks to my babe @yoongsigh for the amazing writing prompt and to the lovely bb @quill-ink for editing this and making it 2356293859857 times better <333 ily guys <3 <3

[thinkingisthenewrebellion-blog]

Welcome to Punjab (while there’s still something to see)

Punjab doesn’t get the credit it deserves for its beauty; fashion, food, and spirituality all exist in unexpected harmony. See, this is a state that was once defined by such a vibrant culture. At the core, that culture is still there. And at its core, it's also dying.

The Sikh faith was born in Punjab, and over the years the Sikh culture pretty much came to define the state itself. It’s where the Sikh Raj was brought into existence, and held a prosperous reign for years until the British invasion. This is important for the reason that Sikhism holds a solid belief in the ideas that words are important, that sense should not be given up for tradition, and that the best way to spread a message or to convey thoughts is via poetry supported by music. Our very holy book is poetry written by well-known poets of the day, all from different castes and religions. 

But back in the end of the 1800s, when most students attended convent schools and knew more about Christianity than the Gurus, the community felt that the faith was dying out. There were too many sects, the children didn’t know their own culture, and when the youth stop understanding is when the elder generations comes to realize that there is about to be a debilitating identity crisis. The Khalsa values were fading out, and the era of the Sikhs seemed to be coming to an end.

But after all that Sikhs went through, they were hardly about to let such a thing happen peacefully. The response thus came in the form of the Singh Sabha movement, which was basically a more politically-minded Sikh Renaissance.  It was a physical and philosophical battle to bring back the true nature of the Gurus’ teachings.

With that determination, corruption was exposed and members of the movement went to cities and villages to preach of the inspiring heritage and the important ideals that had been diminishing in value. There was an outpouring of books, poetry, and magazines; centers of education were built and the right to control them was brought back to the religion. The SGPC was founded to govern and ensure that these victories remained. If you go to my college, you understand the irony in this, and can probably now understand exactly what we had and what we lost.

Because maybe that made up the 1900s, but it’s not really something that has made its way to the 21st century. If anything, we’ve reached another point of crisis. But this time it’s not just about the loss of the values that make up a religion, but rather the loss of the Punjab’s heritage and health as a whole.

Today, too, the majority population of Punjab is the Sikhs. But you can’t see a focus of those values, either secular or non-secular, in the citizens. There’s little to no deep, thoughtful writing or education centers which focus on the importance of what the Gurus believed- respect all as fellow humans, challenge tradition, believe service to be the highest purpose in life, and help those who need it. There’s barely any respectable art (in any form) to be found. Some of my classmates write and sing, and their works are beautiful. But it's done in secret, and while I completely respect their right to keep it personal, that leaves very little to create an impression. I want to know where that proud and dignified culture went.

This is the richest state in India, and it has the least influence on the country. It is drugged up, drunk, with villages dying both literally and figuratively. There is an epidemic of farmer suicide, and it is rife with drug addiction, illiteracy, and poverty.  This is India’s cancer capital, much of it due to lack of knowledge, pesticides leaving heavy metals in the water, and pollution in general. 

And no one is being informed of any of this.

Nothing exists in the "indie" genre in Punjab. There is nothing in the way of independent work. No independent music, movies, nothing. You know how in America so many kids have that dream of becoming a rock star, or they make bands in high school just because they can and they want to? Yeah, that’s not really a thing here.

I don't know, maybe I'm too much of an outsider to be commenting on lack of culture. But I know for sure that the medical parts are real. The epidemics linked to alcoholism and poor hygiene and drug abuse and lack of education are real. Pollution is killing and it's so easy to deal with but politics and corruption keeps anything from happening.

How do we make things happen? Everyone complains about it as an integral part of their teatime chats, but the conversation always ends before anyone reaches anything close to a solution.

And then there’s that part about culture, again. Where is it? Where are the words, the music, the moving movies and documentaries not produced by Bollywood in an attempt to reach a liberal audience that barely exists?

Honey Singh, Badshaah, Bohemia; Hard Kaur, the only female Punjabi rapper; these are what we dance to and who the culture worships. Maybe they have talent in some way I can't relate to, but the only thing they sing of is drinking and partying and hooking up. Maybe because that’s the only thing this generation wants to hear. (Side note- watch Udta Punjab if you want to see more on that scene; it’s one of my favorite movies to come out that's based on reality)

This is the part I’m a bit more reluctant to bring up, only because I know that the less aware will take full offense if they haven’t already. But the truth is that my classmates are more than half the problem. They’re highly educated, with significant connections, well off parents, and absolutely no interest in what they're doing or what they could be doing with their privilege. They all vote for AAP and then get bored five words into any conversation about reality.

Since you probably haven’t realized this yet, let me make it clear: YOU HAVE THE POWER TO MAKE CHANGE.

Americans are rising up because of neo-Nazis in the White House and a president who really shouldn't be there. But for these guys that's just business as usual. There were marches all over the world, from America to Africa to Europe, and even in other states in India; Punjabis didn't even know that it was Women's Day. There are strikes and protests happening right now from the ones who really can't afford the consequences of a strike failing to pull through, but just as same can't afford for things to continue as they are.

Historically, the ones who can actually start and maintain a revolution are the ones who have the means to call for change without worrying about issues like living hand to mouth, or losing their livelihood over such actions. That's us, by the way. In this day and age, our generation is the one with that power. We're the ones who should be rising up and calling for change.

But the only change being discussed is rising up for more parties, less rules, and more ways to go on adventures and get drunk without failing classes.

And I get it. I really, really do. I want to go on adventures and have fun and not have to worry about things like responsibility. But have you seen the streets and the people you pass? Have you seen how we have to cover our mouths when we go into the city and wash our hair when we come back? We can afford to have fun, but the rest of the state can't afford our apathy.

It’s just such blatant hypocrisy. Voting for the idea of change, but not consider doing anything personally. Attending colleges that people work so hard to reach, and then acting couldn’t-care-less when it comes to actually doing something with that knowledge and with that position.  

Why aren't you aware of your own power when they're terrified of it? I'm not telling you to stop drinking and partying. But put your glass down, we can get to the party when the work is done, yeah?

Because after all of this, I refuse to believe that this beautiful state is slowly killing itself. Just as the Singh Sabha movement came about because they refused to accept that as inevitable, so am I waiting for our movement to come forth, because this death is not inevitable.

Personally, you can expect to see me on my blogs, on my twitter, and on my YouTube channel doing my best with my works, forcing these issues and ideas into the forefront until they can't be ignored.

And if you have opinions on that, commentary, or even disagreements, please email me, comment below, or send a message on my blog. I want to start a discussion, even if it's because you hate every word I said, as long as you can counter it logically.

It may be easy to avoid these ideas, but there's only so long you can pull the wool over your eyes, before it slips down over your mouth and chokes you.

Okay. Maybe that was too extended a metaphor. But you get the point- this exists, we will only be able to make any change once we finally fully acknowledge it.  

It’s far past time to rise up. We outnumber the opponents of change. If we sustain energy we can do so, so much, it’s actually incredible. We could quite actually change the world.

[occupyscifi]

The free fyre zone

Incendiary bombs lit up the ruins of the civil war torn city. It lit upon the fort lay grand buildings, reduced to ruin by warring militia groups. It lit up the casinos that had become killing ground and the hotels that had become bombed out shells. It also illuminated a straggling line of hipsters making their shell shocked way to the weed choked outdoor theatre. Once there had been great concerts, when the civil war hadn’t turned tourism into a sick joke. When this had been a desirable place to take a holiday. That the hipsters in their burning man tshirts and faux ironic trustafarian beads didn’t seem to have got the memo was just another hollow irony. They came clutching tickets that promised the concert of a lifetime and an experience like no other. That the experience was likely to be death from a either bullet or cholera was not mentioned. “its…its here right?” asked one boy who had been mugged as soon as he’d stepped out of the perfumed safety of the international airport. Relieved of his passport, his bitcoin e-purse and a fair amount of his innocence he had still doggedly journeyed through the desert heat, past wilted palm trees and rubble piles to the bombed out ruin of the old Hilton hotel. “sure…I guess” said a girl whose face was smeared with soot from the cooking fires that had kept her alive. Best not to ask what she had killed and cooked over it, but it was unlikely to be the organic free range fare that her rich complexion was hitherto used to “its menna be…its menna be….” However words had failed as her spirit had been crushed, the thousands of lolcoin spent on flights and supposed exclusivity to the party of the century. “yeah” said another boy, who had used the last of his e-glass charge to google how to make weapons from the everyday trash left behind by the civil war. He held in his hand a shank made from the remains of a crashed drone cam, downed by some local fighter irritated by network news overflights filming their plight for youtube Epicwarfails videos “stage is down here” he gestured down steps that were pocked with bullets. Beyond there lay an amphitheatre that had clearly been used for executions and had what could be charitably described as a stage. That it was daubed with fundamentalist slogans from one of the more extremist militias did not suggest it was likely to host any international pop acts. “three days…” said the first boy “three days and this…” he sighed in exhaustion. The hundred or so other hipsters, representing a mix of nationalities and ethnicities but all hailing from the richest one percent of the youth demographic were either sitting or wandering about in shellshocked horror. What little light there was came from the few remaining working e-glasses or bespoke antique retro blackberries. The rattle of machine gun fire in the distance and the crump of explosions were now so familiar that the hipsters didn’t even look up. Those that had been fashionably slim before were now unfashionably gaunt, gym trained muscles unused to dealing with the strain of living in a war zone. All of a sudden the last of the lights failed and the amphitheatre was plunged into darkness. The sound of booted feet on the stairs and the whispered crackle of callsigns over radios boded no good at all. The audience all suddenly remembered all the stories their nannies had told them about ISIS and White Pride gangs and what they did to little rich kids when they caught them. “oh my god…” said the girl hysteria in her voice “this is….” “ladies and gentlemen!” boomed a voice from speakers hidden all around them “Freefyremedia entertainment are proud to present – the Beastie Boys!” Spotlights flashed on, illuminating the stage. With a flourish the cloth covered slogans calling for death to blasphemers and heretics fell away to reveal to the now iconic flame logo that had become the byword for ultimate extreme live entertainment. On the stage the cloned and copyrighted heirs to the New York rappers struck a pose. “this first one goes out” cried the cloned Mike D, his DNA reset to License to Ill era youth “to all your crazy mofos who hiked through a goddamn desert war to see us. Make some noise!” “epic!” continued the girl drowned in the sound of people fighting (for their right) to party “absolutely epic!”

The idea to run luxury festival in a warzone had come to Gigi Khan Rodriguez Tesla after the fourth time she had been kidnapped on her Instagram sponsored charity yacht tour of Somalia. “it’s like, you have to give something back” she said, being interviewed on the first day of the Free Fyre festival. Behind her the broken skyline of the city served as the perfect backdrop to her earnest interview. Indeed she had called in her own drone team to demolish a particularly unsightly building that had advertised one of her rivals sponsors “I wanted to both create the ultimate party experience for the spartan race, climate change fighting generation -  and to raise money for kids like these” she gestured to where some local boys - their faces  photogenic in their malnutrition -  lounged adoringly. They were skinny, but not too skinny – that would upset people too much -  and they were dressed in Gigi’s own line of refugeeware tees “I mean, we’ve all done burning man, and Coachella got yawny after the third orgithon” she smiled her perfect smile “when you’ve lived in the bubble of luxury all your life what’s left to experience?” she gestured behind her at a city torn in two by civil strife. Where those left behind feared their own government as much as the roving bands of extreme religious militia. Where the buzz of drones overhead meant either foreign bombs or worse, foreign journalists. “except the real world?” “but Gigi” asked a journalist through a small floating camdrone “what about those who say you’re exploiting these kids for your own gain?” the journalist was not, as might be suspected, talking direct to Gigi. Most journalists from serious publication wouldn’t be able to afford the ticket price to a free fyre zone event. Instead this journalist was skyping from a café in downtown Mumbai “that if anything your events actually cause more instability to the communities they are meant to help, and serve as nothing more than a chance for dumb rich kids to pretend they are facing the real world?” “an excellent question” replied Gigi, who had zoned out slightly during the longer sentences. As a seasoned social media pro she was an expert in the art of multitasking. She had been loltagging her latest set of Instagram pics, hitting the right balance between artistically beautiful shots, perfectly toned flesh and serious photo documentary of ruined buildings that her people told her had historical value. Her lack of attention hardly mattered as there were enough of her paid PR staff to feed her the next lines as she paused to look thoughtful over the heat hazed ruins of the city. One reason to chose this particuatl warzone, the desert climate made it an excellent backdrop to their photos, the sunsets alone were worth the ticket price. “you know, these are people that have lost hope” she said, reading the lines of her e-glasses autocue “They’ve been abandoned by their own government . The international community doesn’t care. The UN doesn’t even bother to send aid anymore. If nothing else we’re making this place cool. And if a place is cool then people will care again. Because of us its trending on social media. People are actually talking about this city. That has to help right?” The journalist wanted to ask another question but has been shunted to the back of the queue. There are other media organs who had paid more money and want to shoehorn in either paid hashtagged phrases or to begin some celebrity faux flame war arranged weeks in advance between Gigi and her carefully curated list of frenemies. “Okay good people!” Shouted Gigi to the crowd. It was the last night of the festival and the renaming in hipsters that had not been airlifted out due to injury, food poisoning or their mummies and ad dies getting scared cheered loudly “we’ve had a great time these last couple of days. We’ve all had a blast – literally” she nodded at the members of the vegan fundamentalist militia who had allowed the hipster to get access to their social cache  of weaponry for just a small extra fee. For even more the audience could choose their own list of targets to be destroyed. All proceeds going to a good cause, of course “but we shouldn’t forget the real reason we’re here, and I’m not talking about your awesome pecs, Bieber junior” at the side of the stage the excellently quaffered but definitely illegitimate child of the singer showed his famous chest. That he had been created without his fathers consent hardly mattered, after all if Beiber senior had wanted to remain childless then he should not have tried to pay off his legal bills with access to his own DNA “no, its all about the good people of this city. Kids like the ones I’ve been speaking to” behind her graphics of more cute kids show, all of them with cute injuries – nothing too disturbing. Research shows that kids with arms missing don’t make people feel anything but sad, and sad doesn’t help anyone “they are the ones that have to live here while we get on with our lives” Gigi does her serous face, it’s one she carefully practices and highlight best the doe eyes her parents paid so much money to have encoded into her genes “so let’s give it up one more time for everyone living in…” there is a pause when Gigi realises she’s forgotten the name of the place. Well all these little shithole desert cities in their failed states all sound the same. Was it Spanish? Latin? Arabic? Didit even matter? “ this great city” there is a roar from the crowd of approval and the noise of elegantly manicured hands that have never known a days work clapping away “and now make some noise for our final act!” With that the lights go down and Gigi exits the stage, grabbing her smart glasses from an assistant. “You said I didn’t need these. Said I looked cleverer without” muttered Gigi angrily “I looked like an asshole instead. Not knowing the name of the place” she pulled on the glasses as behind her the band began one of their most famous numbers. The one from the advert, or the film. Gigi never bothered to remember . It was hummable, that was all that mattered. She climbed into her private APC and the engine coughed into life, driving her out of then city and never looking back. As she passed the edge of the city limits a bullet perforated sign reminded her of the name of the city. “Las vegas!” She said proudly, as the former casino city vanished into the background – now one of many front lines in a bitter civil war “how could I forget?” Behind her the sun set and against the backdrop of a rocket attack Coldplay began their set in earnest. It was going to be epic.