#toxic union officers

[556betrayed]

Core Team Members sexually harassing a rank and file flight attendant. To this day, this flight attendant has yet to receive even an apology from his union officer and/ or officials.

When does the bullying and harrasment of Rank and File flight attendants end? When does it stop?

When charges were brought up against NT member, CAN Team Member, DMT Member, FADAP Team Member ( and serial sexual harasser) Bill Holcomb were brought to the board, they were shot down.

Later, after the Charlene Carter vs TWU 556 and Southwest Airlines Co trial exposed what happened to this rank and file member ( along with many other rank and file members) the current EB deemed charges against now disgraced President Audrey Stone as proper, yet nothing has been done so far.

How can the EB expect respect from rank and file members when it continues to allow rank and file flight attendants to be Bully and Harrassed by current and former union officers and officials?

Bill Holcomb= TWU 556 negotiator and serial sexual harasser.

Now, another serial sexual harrasser ( remember the "giving CC h*ad" from the transcripts) has been appointed to the NT by the TWU 556 Executive Board.

When does it stop?

Members, remember these names next election!!! Let's not allow these harrasers back into office under any circumstances!!!

The days of silencing the victim and protecting abusers/ harassers is long gone!

Shame on the Executive Board of TWU 556 for continuing to allow the harrassment and bullying of Rank and File flight attendants!!! Shame on the recent appointment of Sam Wilkins. Flight attendants no longer have to stay silent!

Any flight attendant sexually harassed, abused, or made to sign an NDA by the company and TWU Local 556 should contact an attorney as soon as possible.

No more company/ union protection for those who have harrrassed in the past and will continue harassing in the future!

[saturnville]

a symphony of regret, corioloanus snow

pairing: young!coriolanus snow x black fem oc (illia furdoix). warning: book accurate snow, arranged marriage, toxic!coriolanus. trigger warning: stupid coriolanus. content: it's been weeks since their tense interaction, which has allowed coriolanus to ponder about his marriage with illia, and he begins to realize what he could lose.

an: I got an ask from @ietss about these two and figured I'd come out of temporary retirement to post it. anyway, I was listening to the "scheming" instrumental and this is what came to mind. by the way, this is long.

tags: @snowlandsontopp @babyzzlove @hlstead @rosewine-5 @unicornqueen05 @thegabbyh @neeville @fastlikealambo @urfavesim to keep your spot on the tag list, you are expected to interact! reblog and comment for continued work!

The air in Coriolanus Snow's office hung heavy with the scent of authority, a blend of polished mahogany and the subtle fragrance of Capitol roses. The room itself was a testament to his ascendancy—ornate furniture, walls adorned with portraits of influential figures, including that of his father, and the sprawling view of the Capitol below from the towering windows.

Coriolanus sat behind his desk, fingertips pressed together in contemplation. The city sprawled before him, a chessboard of power, each move calculated and premeditated.

His piercing blue eyes, cold as the ice in his veins, scanned the landscape below. The serenity of the evening concealed the storm brewing within him. It was a symphony of power and regret, a melody only he could decipher.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting hues of crimson and burnt orange across the sky, Coriolanus's gaze fixated on a figure below. A siren dressed in all black, a stark contrast to the opulence of the Capitol. Illia Furdoix, his wife.

She moved with ethereal grace, scarlet heels clicking against the pavement in a cadence that echoed in his mind. He could recognize its cadence with ease. Her dark hair, meticulously blown out, danced in the evening breeze. A new bag adorned her arm, a silent testament to his observation. When they were engaged, he caught her eyes dancing across the details as they passed through a boutique.

But it was the wedding set on her left hand that held his attention—the flawless oval diamond in a high setting, a public symbol of their union. Only he knew the intricate secret engraved within the bands—his name etched into hers, hers into his. A silent vow, a binding commitment, a show that ended without applause once the audience was no longer around.

On her lips was a smile. It was bright and gleaming as she spoke to the individual in front of her. A man. Another man. A man who was not him. A man who was not him, that made her smile so wide that her dimples made a rare appearance.

Her head flew back in laughter. A sound he was not sure he could recognize by memory. What man didn't recognize his wife's smile and sound of laughter? A man who could only recognize the sound of his wife's cries. Cries that he provoked with ease.

Coriolanus felt a pang of recognition, a revelation unfolding. The grandeur of the Capitol office faded into the background as the weight of his regrets settled upon his shoulders. The realization was a slow burn, a dawning awareness that he had been blind to the depth of his own failings.

He was a terrible husband.

Coriolanus was used to control. He was used to fixing problems immediately, hovering over every move until it was completed to his standard. But, this, his marriage; was the one thing he couldn't control. The potential of losing his marriage, of losing his wife, was great. What could he do to combat that?

No amount of gifts, money, or luxury would change her mind. He couldn't buy her forgiveness. Coriolanus was many things but he was far from a fool. None of that would work on her. He wouldn't be convinced that it would work on him if the roles were reversed.

If the roles were reversed, he pondered. How would he feel? Having been fed a lie by a gold spoon. Having dreams of perfect love and marriage shattered by the hand of the one who was supposed to the heart with care and compassion. Could he imagine her brushing past him as she walked through the door when all he wanted was to feel her lips against his? What about her dismissing his attempts at conversation so she could bury her head in paperwork? Or if she only responded to his touch to get a release and not to feel their souls coming together as one? If she'd bullied him the way he had done her.

His world would crumble.

Coriolanus sat back in his white chair, the cold veneer of authority crumbling alongside the fragments of his self-assuredness. The sun had surrendered to the night, casting long shadows that mirrored the looming darkness enveloping his conscience.

Below, the Capitol glittered with its false promises, a city built on illusions that mirrored his own life. Illia continued her conversation, oblivious to the turmoil she stirred within him. The man by her side, a mere spectator in this intricate dance of revelation, remained blissfully unaware of the storm brewing in the nation's most powerful man.

Coriolanus' eyes, once icy and calculating, betrayed a vulnerability not often seen. A husband's failures, a leader's regrets—all laid bare in the privacy of his office.

Amid the turmoil, a determination ignited within him. He was a political strategist. A machine that could not be shut down or destroyed, If he, the most powerful man in the nation, he could figure out how to control the fate of his marriage. A plan unfolded, a strategy born of desperation and remorse. He would win her back, not with gifts or grand gestures, but with a genuine reformation of character.

The clinking of Illia's scarlet heels against the pavement below echoed in his ears, a haunting reminder of the distance that had grown between them. He rose from his chair, the crimson hues of the city below mirroring the resolve in his eyes. His eyes followed her as she made her way to the Capitol building.

It was not long before he heard soft chatter outside the door. "Is my husband in his office?" Her voice was soft, low.

"Yes, Mrs. Snow." Peacekeepers scrambled to open the door for her. The two doors peeled open, revealing Illia Furdoix Snow in all her wonder. Coriolanus' heart increased in rate for the first time in a long time.

Once the doors closed, the pleasant smile on Illia's lips dropped to a straight line. Her fingers brushed the flyaway hairs away from her face, then gripped her purse. "I cooked. Then I came to the city to look for new towels for the bathroom. Wanted to let you know your plate will be in the oven whenever you get back. I assume I'll see you in the morning, so be safe tonight."

Illia's tone was emotionless and it made his nerves spike. Was this how she felt all this time?

Coriolanus cleared his throat and walked around his desk. His dress shoes kissed the marble floor as he made his way to her. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his perfectly tailored pants. "I, um, I planned on coming home tonight. And eating dinner with you."

Illia's head jerked back and her eyebrows raised. The shock was written over her features like a book. Her lips parted but words did not flow from them. She wasn't convinced.

"Illia," Coriolanus said lowly. "I owe you an apology. It's long overdue and it won't make up for what I've put you through, but I..."

Her gaze remained fixed on him, a mix of skepticism and curiosity playing in her eyes. Coriolanus swallowed the lump forming in his throat, acutely aware of the gravity of his words.

"I've taken you for granted, disregarded your feelings, and failed as a husband. "The man you've seen, the man who rarely came home and when he did, brought nothing but a cold presence—I don't want to be that man anymore."

Coriolanus paused, allowing his words to hang in the air. The vulnerability he displayed was unfamiliar, a crack in the stoic facade he wore so effortlessly. Illia's teeth caught her bottom lip as her eyes welled with tears. She began to rock back and forth on the balls of her feet in anxiousness. Was this truly a reality?

"You deserve more than a distant husband. You deserve someone who cherishes you, who respects you, and who appreciates the warmth and love you bring into our home," he continued, his gaze never leaving hers. "I want to be that person for you. I know you may not believe it right now, I know actions speak louder than words, but I am going to show you that I want to be and can be the man you dreamt of having as a husband...if you'll let me."

The weight of the moment hung in the air, the room silent except for the distant hum of the Capitol outside. Coriolanus awaited her response, his heart pounding with a vulnerability he hadn't felt in years.

For the first time, she cracked a smile in his presence. It was small- and only showed a few of her teeth, but she smiled. She smiled because of him. Illia smiled because of him.

"Thank you for your apology," she started. "Accountability is important when trying to change. I can't make any promises to you, Coriolanus, of how long it will take for me to trust you or for us to get to the point where we would like to be, but, I do believe you're being sincere. So, we'll take it a day at a time."

Coriolanus released the breath he was unaware he held tight within his chest. Maybe he did have control over something after all.

"Let's go home, Coriolanus." Home. The word resonated with a chance at redemption. Taking her hand, Coriolanus followed Illia out of the office, leaving the weight of the past behind and stepping into the uncertain but hopeful future.

[cupidastrology]

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐢𝐝 𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟏𝟐 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐬 *:ꔫ:

do not repost or copy.

read about this asteroid here .

the code for asteroid lust is 4386; please place it in your birth chart through this website (the best <3)

༶•┈┈⛧┈♛ ♛┈⛧┈┈•༶

partner's asteroid lust in the 1st - you can sense the sexual tension between eachother. they adore your style, your looks, and the way you walk through life.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。゜。°。°。°。

partner's asteroid lust in the 2nd - sexual tension is highly emotional and projected onto your desires, wants, and needs. your partner will want to focus on the emotional intimacy of you completely.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。゜。°。°。°。

partner's asteroid lust in your 3rd: your thoughts, way of expression behavior wise, and the online world may entice your partner to understand what goes on inside your head. they want to know what happens on the inside, especially in the way you perceive the world.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。゜。°。°。°。

partner's asteroid lust in your 4th: they may crave scenarios involving reproduction and having a baby. pregnancy kinks, a childhood friend may be a big deal with this position.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。゜。°。°。°。

partner's asteroid lust in your 5th: sexual influence around music, art, and dance are known in this connection. be careful that this type of synastry may indicate many flings and not exactly a concrete connection with this person sexually (but with lots of fun).

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。゜。°。°。°。

partner's asteroid lust in your 6th: this person's influence may want you to get on your knees and care for them thoroughly. your partner feels turned on when you are able to nurse them back to health, motivate them, or be their general support.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。゜。°。°。°。

partner's asteroid lust in the 7th: kinks may range from scenarios involving a honeymoon after a wedding, office sex, or engaging in general marriage related sex. they want to feel that they have a complete union with you in all forms.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。゜。°。°。°。

partner's asteroid lust in the 8th: your partner may have a very strong influence over you in a general strong sexual form. your partner will shower you in gifts and many investments that will want you to stay with them, but also to crave the almost toxic connection you both could have. this is the highs and lows intimacy you can't go back on.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。゜。°。°。°。

partner's asteroid lust in the 9th : travel and newfound knowledge (and sex) will broaden you and your partner's connection. your partner could be turned on by your intellect or your desire to learn in your own perspective. professors and teachers are an attraction.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。゜。°。°。°。

partner's asteroid lust in the 10th: the influence of this person will want to show you with attention, causing gossip and jealousy from peers. you will be worshiped like you are a queen or king or a person that is in the heavens. think of the birth of ︎ ♀︎.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。゜。°。°。°。

partner's asteroid lust in the 11th: you may develop a very keen and strong sexual connection between you and your partner through a friendship; friends to lovers may be a big deal but also a desire to connect with others openly sexually may be a major influence from the partner.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。゜。°。°。°。

partner's asteroid lust in the 12th: your partner has a very subconscious and dreamlike connection with you. they may have wet dreams or cause sexual notions to happen in the connection, helping you to understanding where they start and where they end. you can both help eachother understand intimacy in your own raw forms.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。゜。°。°。°。

asteroid lust readings are open! message me privately for details.

[ceasarslegion]

This weekend is gonna be spent making a linkedin profile and really buckling down on going for my degree job im so fucking done. Im so done. I need to get out while i still can

They promised me full time so i quit my other job when i was hired and then it turned into "mmm well :// actually you only get 24 hours a week"

They promised me regular raises and all of it went to increased union dues for a union full of useless reps who cant even fight the most basic fucking shit

They promised me good benefits but if you ever take more than one sick day produce a doctors note and if they dont think its good enough theyll just deny you any payout and then discipline you about it. They couldnt even get my birthday right on my card so nobody will take it

They promised a good work environment and gave me one so toxic that the culture of senior superiority is so fucking infuriating that these assholes act like theyre better than everybody just because they havent been able to leave the exact same security job for 30 years

Treat everything with the most serious nature but dont ever raise your voice at the passengers. Act with authority oh but if they abuse you on the job well now youre under investigation to see if you snapping back at them and standing up for yourself was provoking them. We're an equal-opportunity workplace oh but if you arent in the select group of managements favourite little officers then take all the abuse hurled at you by them. Its different guys they arent playing favourites based on race or gender they just play favourites about people the feel like it about.

Diversity win! The openly gay supervisor is a shithead too!

Fuck off. This isnt security its a glorified real housewives mansion. The drama and inner politics of this place could be a TLC show and im done with this place

[notwiselybuttoowell]

After several years of recovery after the tumult of Donald Trump’s last administration, the US Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) is now bracing itself for even deeper cuts to staff numbers and to work protecting Americans from pollution and the climate crisis as Trump prepares to return to the White House.

When he was last president, Trump gutted more than 100 environmental rules and vowed to only leave a “little bit of the EPA” left “because you can’t destroy business”, prompting hundreds of agency staff to leave amid a firestorm of political interference and retaliation against civil servants. An even greater exodus is expected this time, with staff fearing they are frontline targets in what could be the biggest upheaval in the agency’s 50-year history.

“People are anxious and apprehensive, [and] we are preparing for the worst,” said Nicole Cantello, an EPA water specialist and president of AFGE Local 704,

“We’ve had a taste of what will happen and how we were targeted last time,” she said. “By the emails and texts I’m getting, a lot of people will leave. So many things could be thrown at us that it could destroy the EPA as we know it.”

Cantello said the union is already seeking to shield itself by departing its office at the agency’s Washington headquarters, ditching the use of EPA computers and divorcing union dues from the federal payroll system. “We have to try to protect our people by being independent of the agency,” she said. “But folks will have to take stock over whether they can endure the attacks that are going to come their way.”

Such anxiety stems from the experiences of the last Trump administration, which removed a broad sweep of environmental regulations and attempted to cut the agency’s budget by a third.

Some staff in the way of this agenda faced censure, with a recent inspector general report finding that scientists were encouraged to delete evidence of chemicals’ harms, such as cancer and miscarriage. At least three of these scientists, when they objected, were removed from their roles, the report found, with supervisors calling dissenters “stupid” and “piranhas”.

The incoming Trump administration will seek to refashion the EPA workforce by using a mechanism called Schedule F, which allows a president to purge the agency of expert staffers and replace them with political loyalists, and relocating regional offices. Many of the EPA’s aging workforce, meanwhile, may choose to retire, with around a third of the agency’s workforce eligible to do this.

Trump’s allies have promised an assault on those who stay. “When they wake up in the morning, we want them to not want to go to work because they are increasingly viewed as the villains,” Russell Vought, who served as Trump’s director of the Office of Management and Budget, said in a recent speech.

“We want their funding to be shut down so that the EPA can’t do all of the rules against our energy industry because they have no bandwidth financially to do so. We want to put them in trauma.”

The EPA currently has more than 16,000 employees, adding more than 6,000 during Joe Biden’s administration as the agency sought to rebuild. During Biden’s term, the agency stepped up enforcement of pollution rules, banned toxic pesticides, bolstered chemical safety protections, and took aim at the climate crisis by drawing up new regulations to slash planet-heating emissions from cars, trucks and power plants.

Much of this work now faces demolition. Project 2025, the conservative manifesto authored by former Trump officials, calls for the elimination of entire offices within the EPA, such as those that deal with environmental justice and pollution enforcement, as well as speeding up approvals of chemicals and scaling back regulations.

It’s going to be a complete meltdown because the Trump people have learned what to do and they are more radical this time,” said Tim Whitehouse, executive director of the Public Employees for Environmental Responsibility. “They’ve been transparent about [their] desire to fire those who disagree with their agenda. Loyalty will be the No 1 factor in civil service jobs.”

In a memo circulated to staff on Wednesday, Michael Regan, the EPA’s administrator, acknowledged the “fear and uncertainty” over the election’s consequences. “May we approach our work with compassion and grace, and may we use the remaining days of this administration to continue to advance our mission and ensure that communities across this country have clean air to breathe and clean water to drink,” he wrote.

[super-lad]

Why VP Kamala Harris is a good person, from her memoir, The Truths We Hold:

- While interning in her last year of law school, she begged a judge to make time for an innocent woman’s case before the work day ended. She knew that if this woman spent a weekend in jail, she could lose her kids and job and she didn't want that to happen. The woman was released that day.

- As a prosecutor, she defended a teenage girl and convicted the adult men who raped her. After the trial, she wanted to find her and get her more help, but could not contact her.

- While working for the San Francisco DA, she helped secure funding for housing sexually exploited youths and runaways to break them out of the cycle of depending on abusers.

- She argued against colleagues racially profiling a defendant as a gang member by explaining that her friends, family and herself carried similar traits, clothing, and living situations as him.

- She took a technologically challenged and toxically charged DA office and turned it into an effective department that reduced unsolved homicides by 25%.

- She pioneered the Back on Track program that reduced reoffending rates of participating ex-cons from 50% to 10% by providing GED education, therapy, and steady jobs which would later be heralded by the Obama administration.

- She shouted down the CEO of JPMorgan Chase ("Your shareholders? Your shareholders? My shareholders are the homeowners of California. You come and see them! Talk to them about who got robbed.") and later secured a $20 billion relief package for homeowners dealing with the 2008 housing crisis in California. JPMorgan’s initial offer was at $2 billion. She also got another $1.5 billion from SunTrust Mortgage, Citigroup, and Bank of America.

- She helped draft and pass the California Homeowners Bill of Rights. Two previous attempts at similar bills failed to pass in the state legislature due to the banks’ influence in Sacramento, but Harris allied with unions and overpowered lobbyists to get enough officials to vote yes on the floor.

- She banned the “trans and gay panic” defense in 2014 as California attorney general. She pushed courts to quickly allow same-sex marriages after the Supreme Court overturned Prop 8. "You must begin the marriages immediately."

- To deal with the opioid crisis, she created a program as AG that allowed pharmacists to track if patients were asking for the same drugs from different stores. This would later be replicated in other states.

- She was offered attorney general of the United States but chose to stay working as California AG because she needed to ensure the above deals and bills were followed through and they were.

- Last but not least, her stepchildren love her. They call her Momala. Do you know how crazy hard that is to accomplish?

[straynoahide]

males costed dems the election, and that is not their fault

for whoever cares for outsider analysis, what costed Dems this elections was in fact the male vote, and nothing else.

we live in an age of identity politics. yes, people vote bc of economic and foreign policy reasons too, to curb inflation and end foreign wars they perceive to be useless... but ppl exist within peer groups and information spheres and these things are not always determinant. like, you can get a pro-union and anti-fossil fuels candidate elected under inflation. but that didn't happen.

what costed this election to Dems is political masculinism (and i mean this neutrally, as a political defense of men's issues, not as a pejorative or with any anti-feminist connotation), the reactive mirror of "woke politics". the only reason a coalition of minority male voters vote like white men and women is bc they're mobilized more as men to the right than as minorities to the left.

one of the main failures of the left is, in turn, thinking this is at all about reproductive rights. men in general are not mobilized to restrict abortion, that's an opportunistic baggage that conservatives put into the agenda. men are not mobilized to vote "against women", but to what they perceive is the only available vote for themselves, for their own presence and visibility.

males raised as men with male peers (generally cis straight, but not always) have voted right bc the left has become the empty identity politics of feminism and queer identities, and they're not just absolutely disconnected within progressivism, unheard and disenfranchised, but have been bombarded by years of "male=bad" and nothing else within all the social theories lingo of patriarchy, toxic masculinity, etc, most articulated very shallowly by people whose only drive is resentment and power grabs.

what can one expect from slogans like "the future is female", for gen z males to just go "ah ok"? it is not absurd that at least the response of half would be "that's not me! and i was just born two decades ago, so i actually want a future too!".

also, know why i know this? it's bc i'm male and european. most of my close intimate friends are women and queer people, but i do have a few straight male friends, and i talk to them and listen.

all electoral trends in europe pointed in this direction. and... this isn't nearly the end of it. diverse white nationalism, anti-islam homonationalism and feminationalism, have also been at play. most french LGBTIQ people and french jews already vote far-right to right-wing parties. same in the netherlands, etc, as in european politics the socialist parties have become the sole house of antizionist/islamist politics with no pro-jewish counter-balance.

the MAGA movement has a very dangerous pyromaniac in the front, who yes, is illiberal, but even the POTUS is just an office, and the constitution and army still protect the american republic.

i would be worried that Dems are losing all relatability and electoral competitiveness everywhere that isn't a blue city - many people live elsewhere, including people who need reproductive and LGBTIQ rights and protection from the right-of-MAGA America First menace, the actually self-declared antidemocratic and anti-American christian nationalism. doubling down on woke talking points and male-bashing is really going to do nothing, bc even with democracy intact, elections still have to be won by convincing the public, not shaming them or condescending to them or saying they aren't in the future.

[beardedmrbean]

A White history teacher accused a California teachers union of discriminating against him on the basis of his skin color and called the move "disgusting."

Isaac Newman, a teacher in the Elk Grove School District, on Friday filed a federal lawsuit against his local National Education Association affiliate for allegedly violating his Title VII civil rights. The suit alleged that the Elk Grove Education Association formed a seat on its executive board that was only available to candidates of color, meaning Newman wasn't eligible.

"It's disgusting, and that's why I'm suing," he told Fox News Digital in an interview.

"My union barred me from a leadership position simply because of the color of my skin," he said, discussing the suit. "I'm prohibited from running for a leadership position simply because of my race. This kind of racial litmus test is illegal, and it's un-American, and that's why I'm taking them to court." 

In 2023, Elk Grove Education Association officials voted to create a "BIPOC At-Large" seat on its executive board, a position limited only to people who "self-identify" as "African American (Black), Native American, Alaska Native, Native Hawai’ian, Pacific Islander, Latino (including Puerto Rican), Asian, Arab, and Middle Eastern," according to the suit. 

"Plaintiff Isaac Newman is a white [EGEA] member who wants to run for union office to address the District’s recent adoption of what he believes to be aggressive and unnecessary Diversity, Equity & Inclusion (DEI) policies," reads the lawsuit, filed by The Fairness Center, a legal group focused on representing "those hurt by public-sector union officials."

The suit asked the court to "declare the BIPOC Position unlawful" and prevent the union "from creating any similar positions in the future where candidate eligibility is, in whole or in part, based on race." 

Newman said the alleged discrimination was "frightening," as was the prevalence of critical race theory in society's culture. 

"I'm actually really frightened for my children," he said, "when we look to a future where people are being taught [critical race theory]."

Newman believes that DEI ideology pushes hostile messages that focus on a person's skin color as opposed to their expertise and knowledge.

"The message there is that as a White teacher in a district that is very diverse, my students can't learn from me," he said. "It's abhorrent, and it's flatly wrong."

Newman told Fox News Digital that after disagreeing with the union pushing "aggressive" DEI agendas in the district, he decided to run for an executive seat to challenge the status quo. 

"I'm looking to see my district and union back away from this fantastically toxic ideology, back away from DEI and embrace merit and individuality," he said. "I'm hoping to see that other teachers, other people in similar organizations, will stand up." 

Newman said he was not alone in his opposition to DEI in school districts. 

"Most people who think like me are unwilling to speak up," he said. "There are a lot of teachers [who are silent], and it's not really a conservative or liberal thing."

"There are a lot of teachers who recognize that meritocracy, colorblindness are at the core of good teaching," Newman added. "What's shocking is in these DEI trainings, they actually call out colorblindness and meritocracy as racist myths. And of course, if you're dedicated to that, well, then you're going to have division, and you're going to have mediocrity." 

Fox News Digital reached out to the Elk Grove union for comment. 

"Teachers’ unions don’t get a pass from laws that prohibit racial discrimination," said Fairness Center President and general counsel Nathan McGrath. "The Civil Rights Act explicitly forbids unions from discriminating based on race, color, religion, sex or national origin and from segregating members based on these attributes." 

[monsterblogging]

So, I think I finally sorted out why I find Karl Heisenberg kind of weird and incoherent as a character concept when I actually stop and think about it. It took me several weeks and two watchings of Why Do You Always Kill Gods in JRPGs? to finally put my finger on it, but here it is.

So, the Resident Evil franchise is a series that has been loaded with metaphor and allegory from day one. The games have talked about stuff like labor exploitation under capitalism, eugenics, theocracy, neoimperialism, and even how the existence of counter-terrorist organizations creates perverse incentives to make more terrorists so the organizations have something to do.

Now the thing is, these are all systemic issues. For most of the franchise, the focus has been on large scale systemic problems.

Resident Evil 7, however, changed things up a little. While systemic problems are still a thing, they're put on the back burner in favor of focusing on a toxic family dynamic. Specifically, it focuses on what happens when people internalize a loved one's irrational fears and unhealthy behavior patterns. The mold here represents the emotional bonds between these people, and the way it's rotted their physical home represents how it's destroyed the family as a home. As a concept it's pretty solid; the only issue here is the execution, which treats Eveline as if she's an unsympathetic monster when she's actually the primary victim here. But still, solid base concept.

Resident Evil 8 tries to do both interpersonal issues and systemic issues. It took a lot of cues from Resident Evil 4 (the "theocracy is bad, oh my god keep it out of the government" installment) and threw in a lot of systemic issue shit while also trying to be about a toxic family dynamic. For the most part, this works out fine.

You got Mother Miranda representing the power of theocracy. Lady Dimitrescu's here representing stuff like conspicuous consumption and worker abuse/labor exploitation. Donna's representing toys/entertainment used to distract people with unhealthy illusions rather than giving genuine enrichment. Moreau represents a neglected healthcare system. Heisenberg is here to be the military-industrial complex... or, is he?

The first three characters do a solid job of embodying actual systemic issues. Heisenberg, however, is kind of a mess because the game tries to code him as two completely different kinds of people: the militaristic leader, and the exploited blue collar worker/engineer/mechanic.

Many of Heisenberg's lines seem to suggest that he sees other people as means to an end; things to be weaponized. He frequently praises Ethan's body and wants to weaponize him against Miranda. He also wants to do the same with Rose. This is, of course, how the military as an institution tends to view people.

But one problem here is, Heisenberg doesn't dress the part. They could have put him in a ratty old officer's cap and jacket and given him a dozen swords (the weapon of the ruling class) to magnetically control. But instead, he dresses like a member of the working class and carries a fucking hammer. So while Capcom probably meant Ethan's rejection of Heisenberg's offer to come off as "fuck off, I'm not letting you exploit me!", it... sorta also comes off as "fuck you, I don't need no stinking unions!"

Heisenberg also complains that Miranda has humiliated him by putting him under her control. This might have been meant to reflect how actual militaristic shitheads love to complain that they're being humiliated and emasculated by not being allowed to inflict violence willy-nilly. But the problem is, Heisenberg's complaints are actually valid, because he's actually being abused by his mother figure. Your militaristic shitheads aren't being abused; they're just pissed off over not being allowed to go kill people wherever they feel like manifesting their destiny and becoming great men of history.

Additionally, Heisenberg just doesn't embody the toxic masculinity that your militaristic shitheads insist makes you a Real Man™. Yeah, his traumadumping is ill-timed and obnoxious, but he's actually talking about his trauma instead of just bottling it up. He's doing what toxic masculinity considers unthinkable - making himself emotionally vulnerable to another man. He's actually less aggressive than the other lords, since he doesn't actually try to kill Ethan until Ethan tries to kill him. Furthermore, in calling Chris Redfield a "boulder-punching asshole," he displays contempt for over-the-top displays of male-coded power.

And of course, Heisenberg making soldats could be read as a metaphor for how the military dehumanizes people by turning them into instruments of destruction, but the problem is that he's using people who are already dead. Sure, he's definitely been considering using living people, but the fact that this thought only comes after years of nothing else working and he's never actually done it says that he hasn't actually committed himself to this, so if that was the intention here... it also doesn't work.

So yeah, IMO Heisenberg ends up being a kind of weird, incoherent character concept because the game wants him to represent both the military-industrial complex and the exploited engineer/mechanic literally just trying to survive, and uh, these are two very different concepts and don't really work together in the same guy.

[bhaalble]

God Love Me Like a Fawn- A Dark Urge/Enver Gortash fic

I finally finish something for BG3 and its for the guy I didn't give a FUCK about my first playthrough. This is also posted on my AO3 (Skeletorific) if you prefer the formatting there. Anyways. A snapshot of pre-Crown of Karsus heist. Enver does his level best to make sure his alliance with Murder Incarnate doesn't wind up how this kind of union typically should go. Alternatively, the author's barely disguised fetish for men putting jewelry on other men

TW for Canon typical violence descriptions, disassociation, memory loss, and generally toxic dynamics. Dark Urge Tav is an oc, Melkior, who uses he/they pronouns. Nothing explicitly sexual. 3.5k words.

Excerpt:

Still studying, then?”

He’d had to repeat the question before Melkior’s eyes finally lifted from the page in front of him. Fiery yellow set deep in black. Not the most uncommon color for tieflings, but the effect of them piercing through shaggy dark hair was always a touch startling. He always held them a little too wide, blinked too little.

“......You’re back already?”

Gortash can’t help but smile, whisking the door to his office shut behind him. Melkior had been holed up for hours, carpeting his office in books and papers. Everything that had ever been written on Mephistopheles' vaults, accounts from the exceedingly factual to the patently deranged. Most of those hours had been silent, by necessity: the Chosen of Bhaal, prodigiously talented in all arts bloodthirsty, was an almost charmingly slow reader.

Silence was unbearable to Enver. He’d had more than enough of it for twenty lifetimes. It had been better, almost, when they were beating him because when they weren’t he was left below for hours, days, weeks. Not a voice to be heard or a person to see. He made his excuses to busy himself below, lose himself in the tangled noise of his machines and his lackeys.

“Already? The sun’s nearly set, you’ve been in here all day.”

Another slow blink. A scowl crosses the Bhaalspawn’s face, probably a startling visage for most. The grey-white death mask tattooed into his purple skin would twist, rippling over a nasty burn scar on his right cheek. The effect was entirely demonic.

Not for him. He knew better. Knew better of demons, and knew better of Melkior. This wasn’t a threat, but a sulk.

“I was busy.”

“Clearly.” He tilts his head, meaningfully regarding the rest of his office. “Not a drop of viscera to be seen, either. I commend the focus you’ve shown for this task.”

It’s hard to read blushes behind the tattoos, but the way his tail flicks nervously behind him is as good as any coloring. “Why am I the only one focusing? It’s your plan, Baneite.”

“Enver.” He says cheerfully. In two strides he’s crossed the room, taking a seat on the worn chaise he slept in more than his own bed. It was the only surface not entirely littered in paper. “I am focusing. But there are wheels in motion, my friend. Someone needs to make sure they don’t fly off before we’ve had the chance to make our play.”

“I have better-”

“The compliment was sincere, Melkior.”

He didn’t need words to know that was worse, leagues worse. Melkior snaps the book shut, rolling cat-like to his feet. Enver watches him tilt his chin, drawing himself up to his full height to look down at him on the couch. Blazing eyes, stony expressions, claws ever so slightly parted. Like in a twitch they might rend a throat. Divine wrath made manifest.

“I’m returning to the Temple. The flock needs tending. The cattle need culling.” He stalks past him, feet padding silently. “Call me when you have a more productive use for my time.”

Enver says nothing, yet. Waits for him to get nearer the door.

“Then I suppose you don’t want your present.”

Stillness, silence. So thick over his left shoulder it was nearly tangible. A lesser man, a man less practiced in his art, might’ve thought the tiefling had left.

Enver was not a lesser man. And Bhaal’s favorite bludgeon was more a child at heart than they realized.

“....Present.” Melkior’s tone is flat and heavy, trying to smother the curiosity out of his voice.

Without turning, he lifts his hand, holding the palm flat to reveal two delicate gold chains, bookended by clips set with rubies. “You have a penchant for jewelry, don’t you?” The carelessness rolls effortlessly off his tongue, the benevolent disinterest weaving the lie into the truthful statement. “I’ve noticed many of the tieflings in the city have taken to horn decorations of late.” Finally, a turn, a graceful smile sliding on. “A life in service to the Murder Lord doesn’t offer much exposure to the latest trends, I imagine.”

Melkior seems to have frozen mid-stride. He’s frozen in general. Among the more monkish of his habits: the ability to appear carved right from the rock. Even still, the argument clearly taking place in the theater of his mind is all but broadcasted. “...Why do you care?”

He shrugs, closing his hand over the trinkets and lowering it ever so slowly. “You don’t need to take it if you don’t wish. I’m sure I have a few other colleagues who would be interested. “

“I don’t-” His hand jerks. Enver feels the point slide towards him. He watches Melkior feel it slip away. A paroxysm of irritation passes over him, making his lip curl to bare fangs. An animal kind of frustration.

His palm opens beckoning.

“....You waste a lot of time on gestures, Baneite.” Melkior’s heels sink to the ground, pivoting towards him. Seconds before his claws can close on the proffered chains, though, Gortash’s hand snaps shut again.

“Enver.”

An annoyed twitch of the tail. Golden eyes are locked on his hand with a greedy gleam.

“You waste a lot of time on gestures....Enver.”

“Not so difficult, is it?” He smiles, gesturing in front of him. “Come here, I’ll put them on.”

“I can do it myself.” He follows the gesture where it leads, though, tugged a few steps around the edge of the chaise.

“You haven’t seen how they’re attached. I’d like my gifts worn properly.” He tilts his head up to look him in the eye. The bland smile never wavers. “Though, I can’t exactly reach from here.”

“Then...stand?”

“Ah, my friend, this seat is comfortable, and I’ve had such a long morning.”

This, actually, is where it becomes most dangerous. Not lightly do the Children of Bhaal open their space. Even less lightly should they be invited into yours. Gortash doesn’t break eye contact. Almost doesn’t dare to. The long ebony claws now mere inches from his face occupy the whole of his awareness regardless.

Melkior glances again at the hand holding his prize.

He takes a seat on the couch, settling awkwardly at the very edge of the worn green velvet. His gaze flickers towards him again.

“Better?”

The faintest knot of tension that had begun tying itself in his chest is swept cleanly aside. His smile deepens, sharpens as he sits up properly. “Better...but you are blessed with some very imposing horns, Melkior.” He glances at them, near vertical and spiraling like a goat’s. They add nearly half a foot to his height. It’s when the tiefling’s eyes dart up towards the same appendage, however, that he moves. In one blink, he plants a hand on his shoulder, sweeping him off the couch entirely.

In the span of a heartbeat, Melkior is kneeling before him.

Another heartbeat. Gortash half expects to feel a draft over his innards the next second. So, he doesn’t let himself pause. With deft hands, he plucks one of the chains from his palm and begins carefully clipping the first end near the base of his horn.

Melkior’s body goes tight. From this level, he has to look up at him. From the edges of his vision, he can feel those eyes held wide, burning into him. No doubt imagining a thousand ways to split him down the middle for the insult.

“Will this satisfy you, then.”

......

Enver’s been too well trained to let his surprise show. He doesn’t break his gaze from his work, even, carefully lining the clips along the ridges spirals of the horn, assessing placement to see if the chains will lay properly.

“For now.” He says softly.

Melkior rolls his eyes, arranging his legs to fold more comfortably underneath him. His hands clasp politely in his lap, for all the world looking like a penitent at his prayers. The visual has its appeals. Much more so the fact that he’s clearly trying to avoid eye contact at the moment.

Up close, it’s surprising how clean he smells. The undercurrent is there, of course, old blood and fluids of more unmentionable varieties. The reeking incense of Bhaal. Something antiseptic, a rubbing alcohol perhaps. But there’s linen too, notes of a soapy kind of a lavender smell. He wonders if it’s intentional, a way of hiding his nature. Or perhaps this was simply a clean outfit, yet unspoiled by the usual grisly tasks on Melkior’s to-do list.

The tiefling continues to sit quietly. An outside perspective might presume him to be meditating. Certainly his gaze seems far enough away for that to be the case. Gortash looks closer, though, and sees the barely restrained shiver every time he traces the edges of his horns.

Hears the slightly staccato rhythm of his breath.

“If I had known all it took were a few baubles to get you to behave, I would’ve sent earrings ahead of my first few envoys.” The spirals of the horns pose an inviting challenge, drawing the chains taut where they should instead drape. He recalculates the placement some. “Are all Bhaalists so materialist?”

“I don’t care about finery. I take trophies.”

“My favorite assassin, this is a trophy.” Slowly, ever so slowly, his free hand slides into his hair, threading through dark tangled strands to sweep them from his face. This is almost a bridge too far. Melkior’s shoulders snap to attention and his lip curls. Enver only presses firmly on the top of his skull, tilting his head back gently until his eyes meet his own. “We’ve secured our means into the hells.” Not quite a murmur, not quite a whisper, but something velvet and soft and prayerful in his voice all the same. With his hair pushed off his forehead, he can see glints of amber and red swimming in the molten gold of Melkior’s eyes. “Our victory is within our grasp, and I’d say that merits a reward.”

Melkior’s chest rises and falls in sharp movements. The dark purple of his lips peeks through, the usual white paint scraped away by his teeth. “We haven’t won yet.”

“True. But it’s as simple as closing our fist.” He presses his thumb pointedly to the center of the tiefling’s forehead, biting back a laugh when his eyes briefly cross in their attempt to track the movement. “Not comfortable being touched?”

“I’m not frightened of you.”

“I didn’t ask if you were frightened.”

“People who touch me don’t find it ends happily for them.” He still hasn’t moved. The pressure he’s placing on his head is tight, not easily breakable, but Melkior hasn’t so much as tested it.

“I didn’t ask how I’d end up either. Even if I did.” He tilts his head, lifting free hand to show the mark matching the one blazoned on the Bhaalspawn’s shoulder. “We have certain oaths to prevent exactly this. Your Urge isn’t complicating that?”

Melkior huffs, darting his eyes to the side. “No. Father made...allowances.”

“Then you’ll forgive me if I continue to place my trust at your feet. So far as I can see it, then, the only reason for me to not touch you is if you prefer not to be touched.” He’s still looking away. It won’t do, it needles him where he needs to remain placid. He taps his chin, drawing his gaze back where it should stay. “Do you prefer that?”

The office isn’t silent. A draft beckoned in by the open window carries the din of the city below, the echoes of small lives and ways. The floor buzzes with his machines, the clanks and crashes so familiar they felt like music.

Just as familiar is the sensation he feels. A leash, tied around Melkior’s neck. The end lays in front, his for the grabbing. He could layer his voice with such powers as Bane made available to him, let the sensation of his touch seep into that too addled mind neatly cupped in his hands. A final completion of his art, dominating that which was by its nature untameable. Violence incarnate in his palm. Perhaps impossible, but the temptation was there all the same. Nearly overwhelming, even.

He doesn’t reach for it. It means nothing if taken now.

Melkior blinks. Blinks. Blinks. Blinks.

“.....You’ll touch me unless I say no?”

“Correct.”

“........For how-....” His brow knits together. For once not in anger, but confusion. “Continuously? Or just now? Or-”

He can’t hold it back anymore. He laughs, for once not the boisterous, controlled thing he saved for meetings. He might even go so far as to call it genuine. It seems to worsen the confusion, but Enver only ruffles his hair before getting to his feet.

“We can work that out later, then. For now, I think it may be time to speak with our diabolist.”

Melkior scrambles to his feet, the new chains jingling slightly in the motion. He seems wholly taken aback. “I didn’t give my answer.”

“Later.” You did . He claps his shoulder, smiling brightly. “Duty calls”

Enver slips out the door before he can say another word. He glances back only once, when the expected footfalls don’t hit his ears.

A gift of his own. Who else in the last century can claim to see a Bhaalspawn smiling without a hint of bloodlust?

------

Some Months. Years. Decades. Eons. Time Later

The patriars are all speaking at once, their chattering so loud as to nearly drown out the whirr and clank of the Steel Watch. The metal monstrosities tower around his party, flatly beckoning him into the fray. All of it fails to overpower the sound of Melkior’s own heartbeat.

The tiefling’s feet strain against the boots Shadowheart had wrestled him into. Without his calloused heels touching the earth he feels untethered. So many people, their reek hit him like a fist to the face. Unbidden a frenzy of gore-spattered images swim past his eyes, made sharper and angrier by all his unrestful heart. The duchess, her legs discarded as bloodied stumps on either side of her. One of the country lords to his immediate left, gagging on Melkior’s staff as it punched through the back of his skull. A sizzling smell of cooking meat as he imagined the Steel Watch chassis stuffed full of lordlings to get acquainted with the infernal iron buried within.

He didn’t even bother to breathe right now, to try grounding himself. There were simply too many things to distract himself from. Easier to let it swim by. His hand twitches instinctively towards Gale’s, but can he trust himself then to leave the limb intact?

The wizard notices the motion. Gale knows enough not to touch him, but he does favor him with a kind smile nonetheless, reassurance dripping from that soft voice of his. “Not far now, my love. We won’t let you lose control.”

“Right. Or if you’ve got to, I’ve got just the dickhead in this room for you to aim it at...” Karlach grumbles just behind him. Gale looks at her disapprovingly, though the regret seems to hit her even faster. “Sorry, that’s not funny.”

“He’ll be with my father.” Wyll says. Urgent, so urgent, his eyes scanning the throng. Those eyes aren’t meant for anything but Ulder Ravengard at the moment, they can’t be spared for the fearless leader. “Likely near the front-...BLAST these crowds, can you see him?”

“We’ll find him, Wyll.” Melkior says faintly, voice so small it immediately becomes lost in the pandemonium. “And the others...” Though what he’s meant to do about it in here he couldn’t say. This hall. He’s never been in it before, he can’t have been, not with the way everyone’s eyes seem to slide right off him. But something lingers in the hall, a miasma that claws into the aching gapes in his brain.

The machine had known him. He eyes the mechanical soldier like it might echo with that voice again.

Karlach hisses. It’s joined by a flare of heat just at his back. Lucky they were on the edge of the carpet, or it might’ve started smoking. “Got him. Just at the end there.”

“With my father.” Wyll says, relief palpable in his voice. He starts forward reflexively, but hesitates, glancing back at Melkior. “.....How do you want to do this?”

Melkior sees a flicker of strain behind his eyes. The compulsion to move towards his father. Or not, that strain had been flickering ever since Last Light. Since the cler- “It’s your father, Wyll.” He says, strangling the thought in its synapse. A shaky smile forces its way on his face, like it might make them all friends again.

Wyll smiles back, like he might be able to accept it. “And the Steel Watch let you in, my friend. I’ll follow your lead.”

“ Fuck strategy, we should just rush the bastard. Letting him even speak is a bad move.” Karlach says, glaring daggers at the room at large. “Fuck, hang on, he’s on the move. Can’t see him from here.”

“He can’t have gone far” He rocks up onto the balls of his feet, craning his neck above the cross to try to find where Wyll and Karlach’s gazes point. “Is it-"

“ There you are.”

A headache splits his skull, so sharp and profound that the word ceremorphosis floats to the front of his consciousness. It's not me , rumbles the Emperor, but he’s momentarily insensate to it. His heels crash to the ground and he staggers. The cobblestone and the rich carpets swim in front of his eyes. The voice, the voice from just behind him, the whole universe in a voice.

Vaguely, he’s aware of the voice of Gale, concerned, and a yelp from Karlach. All he can do is lurch forwards, dragging a head that seems ten pounds heavier up to meet the origin of the voice.

Black and emerald leathers, set deep with gold. Are all Bhaalists such materialists ? Above them swims a face, the features refusing to resolve themselves. It's like it's being blocked. His face won’t render them into anything human, just swirls them into a sickly whorl of flesh. All that pierces through are two dark eyes, deep and shadowed and taunting.

He nearly doubles over to vomit. The eyes narrow, tilting to the side. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

The voice again, deep and smooth as spider’s web, I’d tear the voicebox out to keep it on my pillow, but I can’t, but I can’t, it won’t sound if it's not where it should be

“Melkior, can you hear me?” Gale’s touch on his shoulder, pulling him upright, and Karlach’s big arms hauling him to his feet at the waist. All feel wrong, itching, pulling.

“What the hells did you do to him?” Karlach growls. Time was he’d love to wrap himself in that protection, in the ferocity of love it signified. Now he shoved hard at her arm, scratching like a caught stray.

“While I appreciate the faith in my abilities, Karlach, I think you overestimate them a hair. When would I have had time to do a thing to him?” There’s a laugh in his voice, and it makes a mouth sprout in the skin spiral. Smiling, always smiling, dark stubble dotting the jaw. The nose follows, and dark brows. “I think he can stand for himself, now, can’t you, Melkior?”

The face is just a face. He shoves hard until Karlach drops him, lurching forward the last few steps. The last thing he feels is Gale’s hand sliding off his shoulder, the kind touch evaporating like a dream.

He stops a hair short of the dark-haired man. The Chosen, the Absolute, Gortash, Baneite, but he’s missing a name, isn’t he? Treasure locked behind that name, prizes, secrets.

Trophies.

On the last step he pulls himself up. Melkior sinks his claws deep into the fabric of his trousers, planting his feet squarely apart. There’s barely a meter between him and the stranger now, a meter that seems to draw his breath out from him entirely. This is not the Urge, not his father, and yet he fights for control all the same.

“Who....who are you?” His voice rings out impossibly loud. The crowd of nobles immediately near him look around in stunned surprise, creating a ripple of silence.

Gortash scarcely seems to notice. He tilts his head, regarding him with a detached sort of warmth. The look Gale gives to his books that used to claw at him so, the look Astarion gives a willing neck before his teeth sinks in.

The headache is worse. He won’t let himself react, even as his vision whites out-

There is a gentle warmth on his forehead, edged in something sharp and metallic. It brushes the hair on his head back, sweeping the overgrown tangles back between his horns. He blinks hard. He’s touching my head like I'm a sick child , comes the realization like thunder.

“My favorite assassin, what have they done to your eyes?”

His entire face feels hot, the stone set in his left socket itching self consciously. “What are you-”

“Don’t fucking touch him!” Karlach barks.

“No need to be like that, Karlach. He may not remember it, but...”

Enver tilts his head. He smiles. For just a second, Melkior’s head feels just fine.

“I do have permission.”

[556betrayed]

Sigh. Here we go again.

Dear TWU 556 Executive Board Members:

Members have rights to ask questions of their elected union representatives. Quit saying you're bullied when the hard questions are asked.

While we are at it, when will the Executive Board finally stop appointing bullies to serve as union officers and officials?

Why did the EB appoint Sam Wilkins? Have you read the transcripts? Sam Wilkins, aside from being a company cheerleader, has a long history of bullying and harassing the rank and file members of TWU 556 along with violating the statutory Duty of Fair Representation owed to the members of TWU 556.

Quit classifying yourselves as victims as you are clearly not a victim in any of this.

It's long past time the TWU 556 Eexecutive Board starts making amends to those victimized by the TWU 556 Eexecutive Board.

In Unity,

The betrayed Rank and File members of TWU 556

[florwal]

The History of Millhaven

In the late 1800s, the Davis family owned a large amount of farmland in what would later become Millhaven, Oregon. Seeking to capitalize on the area's natural resources, they built a mill. But they didn't stop there. The Davis family also invested in creating an entire town around the mill, with homes, businesses, and public services to attract workers and their families.

Their efforts paid off. Many people looking for work flocked to Millhaven, eager for a chance to make a living there. The town quickly grew and became a hub of economic activity. The Davis family's influence and power expanded along with it, as they controlled much of the town's infrastructure and resources.

However, the working conditions at the mill were notoriously bad. The Davis family cut corners and ignored safety regulations, leading to long hours, low pay, and frequent accidents. Many workers suffered from respiratory problems, hearing loss, and other ailments as a result of their work at the mill. Despite protests from the workers and their families, the Davis family refused to improve conditions or compensate the victims.

In the year 1909 the workers at the mill had finally had enough. Inspired by the growing labor movement in the United States, they organized a strike demanding better pay, safer working conditions, and the right to unionize. The Davis family responded with violence and intimidation, using their control over the town's law enforcement.

The situation quickly escalated, with the workers forming a picket line outside the mill and the Davis family bringing in scabs and armed officers to break the strike. The resulting violence led to several deaths and injuries, and the workers' demands remained unmet.

The strike received national attention, with labor leaders and politicians speaking out in support of the workers. The Davis family's reputation was tarnished, and they were forced to negotiate with the workers. Eventually, a compromise was reached, and the workers won some concessions, including a small pay increase and improved safety measures.

The mill largely expanded by the 1950s. The legacy of the mill and the Davis family's corruption continued to haunt Millhaven for decades. The toxic waste dumping that began in the 1970s only added to the town's problems, polluting the environment and causing health problems for many residents. The mill was eventually forced to shut down but the Davis family still held power over the town.

In 2023, the current mayor of Millhaven is Michael Davis, a direct descendant of the Davis family that founded the town. Michael's brother, Adam, is the pastor of the only church in Millhaven, which has long been a center of community life in the town. The Davis family still holds a significant amount of power over Millhaven, with Mayor Davis using his position to further their interests.

Mayor Davis is currently working on a plan to gentrify Millhaven, which he sees as a way to revitalize the town and attract new investment. His plan includes the construction of luxury apartments and homes, a new megachurch, and a shopping center, all of which would be aimed at wealthier residents and visitors.

However, the gentrification plan has been met with resistance from many of Millhaven's long-time residents, who fear that they will be pushed out of their homes and their community. The majority of Millhaven's residents are low-income, and many have lived in the town for generations. They worry that the new development will only benefit outsiders and leave them stuck with a higher cost of living that they cannot afford.

[ideal-space]

➥ Blog for . . . ; Cyrus .ᐟ.ᐟ

inventory

❝ 𝑩𝑨𝑻𝑻𝑳𝑬 𝑪𝑹𝒀 ❞ - Shayfer James .ᐟ

" you'll sacrifice the truth to justify your sins . but I don't need an excuse to let the darkness in . "

5:00 am || [An audio is attached. Watch it?] || 2011

October 15 .

. . . Hello . My therapist recommended that I make a diary . I'll be posting about my everyday life here .

My name is Cyrus . Previous Team Galactic Boss . That was . . . two years ago . . . I use he / its pronouns , I am 29 years old , and I work at an office .

I understand if anyone doesn't want to interact with me .

my diagnosis , yes . He told me to record it .

Chronic depression , autism . We are looking into psychopath .

My current pokémon are Crobat and Clefairy . The rest of my team was donated to Team Galactic after my fall . . .

Thats it . Farewell .

This blog will touch themes of depression, abusive households, villainy, toxic masculinity and overall recovery .

[ October 15 2024 ] : Restart .

❛﹒Pelipper mail : ON

❛﹒Mystery gift : ON

❛﹒Anon Hate : ON

❛﹒Union Circle : ON

❛﹒Mun is a minor . No NSFW

❛﹒I encourage anon hate . Bother him

❛﹒Happens two years after the events of Platinum

[mariacallous]

Europe’s never-ending struggle to provide tidbits of assistance to Ukraine while still pandering to the agricultural lobbies that dictate so much policy in Brussels took another tortured turn this week. The European Commission hammered out its latest, tentative compromise plan to offer Kyiv another year of tariff-free access to the European single market for some agricultural products—but it’s not a done deal, and it could end up as a nasty tripwire for Ukraine’s hopes to join the European Union.

At issue is a monthslong tussle over the renewal of tariff-free access for a handful of Ukrainian farm goods, such as eggs, poultry, honey, and maize (corn). Ukraine, which is not a member of the EU and is in the middle of a war with Russia, desperately wants the trade relief, which it figures is worth well over 1 billion euros a year in much-needed export earnings. 

Europe as a whole is unlikely to be concerned about such rounding-error figures, but certain groups in Europe—namely farmers in eastern “front-line” countries—care very much indeed. Farmers in Poland have added angry chants against Ukrainian food imports to the standard-issue complaints about the European Green Deal and free trade that animate farmer protests across the continent; they’ve even blocked the borders east and west in protest against what they say is a flood of outside food that is undermining their livelihood.

In a nutshell, Europe’s bid to offer Ukraine the tiniest of economic lifelines is threatening to weaken support for the country’s eventual membership in the EU by angering groups with outsized political influence that feel threatened by what looks to them like the stealth arrival of a new trade rival. That is most evident in Poland, Ukraine’s neighbor, which when the war began was hugely supportive of aiding Kyiv in any way possible but which in recent months has become a lot more sour on defense assistance, Ukrainian refugees, Ukrainian wheat, and, of course, Ukrainian EU membership.

According to recent opinion polls, support among Poles for further aid to Ukraine is dropping sharply, and that is especially true among more right-wing voters (as is true across much of Europe). One big reason for this decline in support is the fight that Polish farmers have waged against what they see as a flood of cheap, foreign food.

“What I can say is that the support for Ukraine has taken a real hit in Poland. Look at enlargement, support for refugees, even weapons,” said Isabell Hoffmann, a survey expert at Eupinions, an independent platform for European public opinion. “Support was extraordinarily strong before, and it is still strong today. But it weakened notably and quickly.”

Poland has been fighting over Ukrainian food imports for a year, but the protests intensified at the beginning of this year with further border blockages and anti-Ukraine animus which have found widespread popular support.

“This issue has become very toxic in domestic politics. There are more and more critical voices in Poland,” said Piotr Buras, the head of the Warsaw office of the European Council on Foreign Relations (ECFR). “This is the paradox: The European Commission is talking about more gradual integration with Ukraine and the single market, but we are talking about the gradual closing of the single market for Ukraine.”

All this began, like so many of Ukraine’s current woes, with the full-scale Russian invasion in early 2022, which threatened Ukraine’s breadbasket agricultural regions and, importantly, its main export route through the Black Sea. The EU offered emergency tariff relief for a host of Ukrainian agricultural goods so they could travel overland and into the EU and trade without prejudice. 

For Ukraine, desperate to earn foreign currency and boost the few exports that were left after the Russian invasion, it was a tidy little lifeline. 

“From an economic point of view, agriculture remains one of the key export sectors of Ukraine,” said Marek Dabrowski, an expert on European trade and enlargement issues at Bruegel, a think tank. “Before the war, it was metallurgy and industry, but then part of that was destroyed, and part is occupied, so exports now are essentially down to agricultural goods. The reason for these ‘emergency measures’ has not gone away.”

Indeed, those emergency measures have continued every year since—until now. The European Commission planned to simply roll the tariff relief over this year, giving Ukraine one more year of free access, worth about 1.7 billion euros for Kyiv’s empty coffers. But many of the countries bordering Ukraine, including Hungary, Poland, and  Slovakia, pushed back at what they viewed as a flood of cheap Ukrainian grain that was undermining their own farmers. Some countries, such as Poland, unilaterally blocked Ukrainian farm goods from staying in the country. 

Together, and most recently backed by France, those countries pushed for a tougher version of tariff relief for Ukraine that would have limited the amount of agricultural goods it could sell to Europe. The European Commission and European Parliament have been at work hammering out ever-tougher versions of tariff relief ever since. 

The latest proposal would still offer Ukraine relief for another year but with tougher quota baselines, which would cost Kyiv about 350 million euros annually. Ukraine’s farm lobby on Thursday decried the slide toward EU “protectionism” in the latest wrangling. But even that compromise measure still has to pass the European Parliament, where it could face yet further efforts to weaken Ukraine’s access. 

While an extension, even a watered-down one, would still be welcome in Ukraine, the problem is the perception that such preferential trade policies create in front-line countries such as Poland. Ukrainian grain is not the cause for the plight of Polish farmers any more than it is the reason for angst in the countryside in the other 26 EU member states; that has a lot more to do with falling prices for global agricultural staples such as wheat, as well as slightly tougher (and costlier) EU regulations on agricultural production. 

But many who are getting kicked while they are down don’t look carefully at precisely who is doing the kicking, and continual European assistance for Ukraine rubs many in the east the wrong way.

The temporary trade measures amounted to a full opening, Buras of ECFR said. “Basically, Ukraine jumped from a piecemeal opening to European access to the final stage of this process,” he said. “Nobody expected these measures to remain in place for three years or more. Technically, we have a full opening of the single market to Ukrainian products.”

The risk is that the tiny measures Europe is taking to shore up Ukraine today with trade relief could end up as a poisoned chalice in years to come. Once the war is over, Ukraine is widely expected to get on with its decade-long quest to become a member of the EU—a step that ultimately needs the go-ahead from all current member states.

“The Ukrainians should also, seen from Warsaw, be a little more careful when they push for more liberalization,” Buras said. “At the end of the day, Ukrainians are dependent on Polish support” to join the EU, he added.

[whatevergreen]

"Like millions around the world, last May the image of the Minneapolis police officer Derek Chauvin killing George Floyd sickened and angered me and drove me to the streets to demonstrate in support of Black Lives Matter. It also reminded me of events that occurred in my hometown of San Francisco 42 years ago on Friday.

Many people know who Harvey Milk was, are familiar with his contributions to the LGBTQ+ civil rights movement and remember that he was assassinated on 27 November 1978 after being in office for less than a year. Fewer people are aware that one of the proximate reasons why Milk and San Francisco’s progressive mayor George Moscone were killed was because of their opposition to police violence and abuse.

The line from Derek Chauvin back to Dan White, the former San Francisco supervisor, fireman and policeman who murdered George Moscone and Harvey Milk, may encompass 42 years of urban history, but it is clear and a stark reminder of the persistence of police brutality and the efforts to which some will go to resist any reform.

Dan White was a bigot who, in 1977, had gotten elected on a reactionary platform that included promises to “eradicate malignancies that blight our city”, but his actions were motivated in substantial part by a toxic mix of that bigotry along with anger and loyalty to the parochial interests of the racist factions within the San Francisco police department (SFPD).

White resigned from the board of supervisors, the equivalent of the city council, in early November 1978, citing the need to make more money to support his young family. He then wanted his job back, but when Moscone refused to reappoint him, he killed Moscone and Milk, who he believed had urged Moscone towards his decision.

But there’s another component to Moscone and Milk’s deaths that is directly relevant to the Black Lives Matter movement today. White was being aggressively encouraged to get back on the board by the police unions and others around the SFPD who needed White’s vote to ensure the failure of a federal consent decree order before the board. That decree, if passed, would have accelerated the integration of the force and been a major step toward limiting the ability of the SFPD to abuse racial minority and LGBTQ+ San Franciscans. The vote was deadlocked at five. White’s return to the board would have meant a 6-5 majority against it. If White were replaced by somebody chosen by the progressive mayor George Moscone, the decree would have passed by one vote.

Moscone had been elected in 1975 with huge margins among African Americans and in the neighborhoods with high concentrations of LGBTQ+ voters. Part of his platform was to curtail police brutality and to support civil rights for gay San Franciscans and San Franciscans of color. This made him a radical in the mid-1970s, even in San Francisco.

White’s resignation gave Moscone an opportunity to get a progressive majority on the board for the consent decree and other issues. A smart and experienced politician, the mayor was not going to pass that chance up.

After White assassinated San Francisco’s mayor and the supervisor he believed, falsely, had persuaded the mayor not to reappoint him, much of the city was overcome with shock and grief. But in some parts, the assassinations were celebrated, not least in police headquarters, where police radio channels played the song Danny Boy in honor of their former colleague who had carried out their dirty work. Some took to wearing T-shirts with the slogan “Free Dan White” under their uniforms.

The police unions today that minimize the crimes of police officers like Derek Chauvin and remain opposed to any efforts to reform policing or address longstanding issues of systemic racism in policing are the spiritual and political descendants of Dan White and SFPD officers who supported him.

As the Black Lives Matter movement continues, it is important to make these connections and recognize this history. George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, Daniel Prude, Stephon Clark and too many others are part of the long and brutal history of killings of African Americans by security forces in the US that probably predates the founding of the country.

George Moscone and Harvey Milk were white politicians, whose deaths are usually associated with the LGBTQ+ civil rights movements, but they are also part of the sad story of police violence in America."

Lincoln Mitchell

Two San Francisco police officers brutalise an unidentified AIDS protestor near the Sixth International Conference on AIDS, June 22, 1990 in San Francisco

[dotthings]

“For almost half a century, workers in the visual effects industry have been denied the same protections and benefits their coworkers and crewmates have relied upon since the beginning of the Hollywood film industry. This is a historic first step for VFX workers coming together with a collective voice demanding respect for the work we do.”

The union approved a one-year deal with the city in November 2022 with the understanding that they would return to the bargaining table in January, SEIU Local 721 Chief of Staff Gilda Valdez said. With the broader agreement in place for the next year, the city and the union would then negotiate over a number of “specials,” or smaller specific proposals, Valdez told The Associated Press. But the city reneged on the promise to negotiate on those issues and “only gave us some small agreements that basically amount to peanuts,” Valdez said. The union filed an unfair labor practice claim with the City of Los Angeles Employee Relations Board over this issue, along with previous claims filed over several other issues. “This strike is a very strong message: ‘Come to the table,’ ” Valdez said, noting that the union’s members had worked throughout the coronavirus pandemic to keep the city running.