#weaponizing white hate

[ausetkmt]

this movie is Weaponizing White Supremacy. alex jones, nahhhh.

I watched this and then when I went and looked at it again on Youtube I remembered the entire scenario. NOPE I am not helping de-educate america with white lies. but for those who are interested heres' proof-

He Said This and He Did this - while knowing he was going to be caught

He spoke at a separate Jan. 6 rally in D.C., and he posted on Infowars a video in which he says, “We need to understand we’re under attack, and we need to understand this is 21st-century warfare and get on a war footing.”

https://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/2022/08/04/alex-jones-lawsuit-perjury-consequences/

Alex Jones is shocked that lies have consequences

“You know what perjury is, right?” When asked that question under withering cross-examination this week, loudmouth Infowars conspiracy theorist Alex Jones mumbled and stumbled like a meek little mouse.

The far-right radio host’s trial in an Austin courtroom has been almost enough to restore my faith in truth, justice and the American way. Jurors have been determining how much of his likely nine-figure fortune he must pay to the parents of a victim of the Sandy Hook school massacre for defaming them and their late son.

Jones’s wildly successful business model has been based on concocting outrageous lies and shouting them at the top of his lungs to millions of listeners. But that does not work so well, it turns out, in a court of law.

“You are already under oath to tell the truth,” Judge Maya Guerra Gamble admonished him. “You’ve already violated that oath twice today. ... Just because you claim to think something is true does not make it true. It does not protect you. It is not allowed. You’re under oath. That means things must actually be true when you say them.”

What Jones did was unspeakably vile: He claimed repeatedly — and falsely, with absolutely no factual basis, since none exists — that the 2012 Sandy Hook killings never happened at all, that they were some kind of “false flag” operation that was “a giant hoax,” and that the 20 dead children ripped to pieces by rounds from an assault rifle were nothing but “crisis actors.”

The lawsuit at issue this week was brought by parents Scarlett Lewis and Neil Heslin, who lost their son Jesse in the massacre. Heslin testified that he has been repeatedly confronted in a hostile manner by people who believed Jones’s lies and that his life has been threatened. Such encounters continue “right up to this day,” he said.

Lewis took the opportunity to address Jones directly. “Jesse was real. I’m a real mom,” she said, telling Jones she thought he never really believed the lies he was pushing. “That’s the problem, I know you know that,” she said to her tormentor. “But you keep saying it. Why? Why? For money?”

Jones had already lost this and several other defamation lawsuits by default, since he failed repeatedly to turn over documents and other information he had been ordered to produce. The only question for the jury is how much Jones must pay Lewis and Heslin in damages. They asked for $150 million, but on Thursday the jury awarded them just $4.1 million in actual damages. The jurors’ work is not done, however: Now they will decide whether Jones must also pay punitive damages, and, if so, how much. So Jones may have more bad news in store.

The whole week has been bad for Jones, who started out full of bluster but found that Gamble had no patience with his prophet-of-doom act. “This is not your show,” she told him.

But that moment Wednesday when he was asked whether he knew the definition of “perjury” could be very bad for a much wider circle of grifters who amassed wealth and power by using lies to stoke MAGA-style paranoia and rage. And yes, I include Donald Trump among those who should be worried.

The plaintiffs’ attorney, Mark Bankston, had just said that Jones’s lawyers had mistakenly sent him copies of “every text message you’ve sent for the past two years.” Jones had claimed repeatedly under oath that there were no texts about Sandy Hook; Bankston said the texts prove that claim to be a lie.

Perhaps more important, however, is that the House select committee investigating the events of Jan. 6, 2021, wants to know more about any role Jones might have played in the Capitol insurrection.

Presumably the Justice Department is curious as well. Jones reportedly helped raise hundreds of thousands of dollars for Trump’s rally that day on the Ellipse. He spoke at a separate Jan. 6 rally in D.C., and he posted on Infowars a video in which he says, “We need to understand we’re under attack, and we need to understand this is 21st-century warfare and get on a war footing.”

What contacts, if any, might Jones have had around the time of the insurrection with those close to Trump, or perhaps with Trump himself? Jones has said that he pleaded the Fifth Amendment in an interview with the House select committee. I don’t know what light Jones’s text messages might shed on actions by Jones or others, but I’m eager to find out.

“We fully intend on cooperating with law enforcement and U.S. government officials interested in seeing these materials,” said Bankston. Uh-oh.

In other head-scratching moves, Jones, through Infowars, has attacked the judge (falsely linking Gamble to pedophilia) and the jurors (questioning their intelligence) who will decide how much he must pay to Lewis and Heslin.

He has appeared genuinely bewildered in a context where the difference between truth and falsehood actually matters. Relieving him of more of his money might help him understand.

Are you paying attention? 🤔

[cessmaga]

drew this pretty baizhu skin mod to cope like I want this to be an official skin

baizhu won't come home and idk if I'll get to the soft pity 🤬

[ellenchain]

Horror movie get together:

47 goes way over the top. Like his Halloween mission, he dresses up as a slasher/monster. The sight of him is heart attack inducing. May or may not wear a pumpkin as head.

Diana looks more tasteful, a bit like a vampire queen, long black dress, pale make up, wine glass.

Olivia is a witch. Big hat, big dress, big attitude. Think Hocus Pocus - like that. Colorful, wild, cackling.

As for Lucas.....either 47 has dragged him into it and he also has an elaborate terrifying costume, or he got lazy and bought a costume onesie. I'm thinking one of the skeleton ones, bonus points for glow in the dark/led parts. Or he really didn't give a fuck and showed up in like an animal onesie, like a giraffe, and glares people into submission. Bonus points if it doesn't even fit properly.

Olivia picked the movie, otherwise Lucas and 47 would give running commentary "people don't make that sound when you stab them", she comes prepared. They let Lucas loose in a supermarket for snacks while Diana sets up the den with a movie projector and blankets. Olivia texts him every 2 minutes, adding to the order. Lucas does oblige, but grumble about it, eating his "tax" in the car and then bringing in everything in one trip because he is NOT walking twice.

47 needs all the preparation time to get out of his costume and make up (or maybe dispose of a body before, who knows? Maybe both).

Honestly I love all the ideas! I took the liberty and drew something together in like 30 min, there wasn’t more time 😩 but I enjoyed drawing our hitman fam - so I hope you like them too!

They are about to go to their Halloween mission party:

I tried to involve your ideas as well @lucas-grey @agent47grey 🤭

[stuck-in-the-ghost-zone]

MACKERELMORE hii good morning i hope u r goodddd :] anyway. staring up at u w/ my big sopping wet shark eyes.... do u have any new haven wards costume opinions & thoughts. ik a while ago u said smth abt imprint showing an Inadvisable amount of skin considering his power bc he's cocky & it's an intimidation thing..... wraith with the whisperer cloak... what else!!!

AH hello!!! I have been. underwater all morning <3 I will be underwater again all afternoon but it's lunch time first :] I will say hi 2 the sharks for u . blow the grouper a kiss etc etc

UHHHHHHHH I DONT HAVE A WHOLE LOT OF THOUGHTS OTHER THAN WHAT WE'VE SAID BEFORE especially because. outfit design is not my strong suit idk how to talk about clothes lmao. but! the generals:

wraith: big loose fitting clothes that conceal a layer of body armor. they let him move and give him a bigger silhouette than he actually has and look deceptively weak? you go to kick a guy in a hoodie and your foot hits a kevlar vest instead. whisperer cape is a must. i dont think he knows the similarity. william was never big into capes i think if he ever saw anything of the whisperer it was only in passing and not enough to stick in his mind. full-face mask (which i would assume is like.... built into the hood somehow? to keep it up on his head better as hes moving), undecided on whether he would keep his hair fully covered or let some of it out from under the hood. i think at first his costume would be white with blue accents ("ghostly" vibes without being too scary) but as time goes on i think it would be cool if it got darker and darker until the white parts have gone from grey-dark grey-black (idk how that would work mechanically but. nudges greyscale implications)

failsafe: HONESTLYYYYY I REALLY LIKE WHAT YOU HAVE FOR HIM SO FAR. crop top is essential. failsafe has way more skin showing than imprint. i think hed keep his knuckles/forearms taped bc his fighting style is very physical? i know dakotas whole thing is kicks only but i think failsafe should get to punch things super hard too like cmon. hes got the likee.... headband mask . i like what u have for him a lot. i think his pants are a lot like wraiths thing where theyre loose and mobile but hes wearing armor under them.

imprint: tactical. his stuff is mostly black i dont think he would budge on that for anything. i do think he should have skin showing like. in case they get caught off guard by a fight i dont think hed want to take the time to have to pull off sleeves or gloves or whatever in case he needed to use his powers in a snap. i DO however think he has gloves just for convenience's sake. but i think he keeps specific body parts uncovered? majority of his arms for sure. he has the half-face mask. idk if this is something the prt would necessarily allow but i think he has a lot of straps and belts and things for holding weapons. i feel like hes trained in so many ways to fight he would probably always want at least a knife or gun on him at all times. the purple accents were the PR teams additions so he wouldnt be totally black. since he wanted to keep his shitty dyed purple hair, theyd at least make the costume match so it looked somewhat cohesive and intentional

OH YEAH u didnt ask abt tide but its very important to me that his costume is like a wetsuit. i havent made my post about tide and wetsuits yet but i think abt him a lot. also i think the ear fins are cosmetic and not a result of weird clone things but i do think he should keep them bc i think theyre cute. ive been imagining wavelengths costume pretty much the exact same as in pd . and i have. no ideas for auxiliary but whenever i think abt him i think abt ur timeline art so thats canon 2 me

[moe-broey]

LIKE........ @ the prev post about armor flexibility.... Is That Why They Look Like That??????? 👁️👁️

Something else fascinating I found actually when I was comparing the Askr trio (knowing Alfonse and Sharena largely match, just a few differences here and there), wanting to get a better look at Anna...

SHE HAS BIG ASS BOOTS?!????? I. COMPLETELY FORGOR ....... it gives her a real sturdy look though. Hm.... (Thinking about what this means for characterization/how I'd draw her, esp w my initial impressions kind of. Being the opposite of this LMFAOOO oops 😥)

[fromtheseventhhell]

"You don't have to mention disliking Taylor when supporting her fight against AI" Yeah actually I do cause I'm pro-Palestine and she's a prominent white celebrity who had her movie shown in Israel (which the BDS movement has specifically highlighted), she's friends with a woman who turned a genocide into a self-pity party and works with a proud Zionist, and she's never once used her platform to speak up on the Palestinian genocide (or any other ongoing genocide). As much as I hope she's successful in her fight and is able to heal, her being victimized in this instance doesn't prevent her from causing harm and people should still be able to hold her accountable.

[suffarustuffaru]

so i was inspired by @zeivira

[iwatcheditbegin]

search "matty healy" and "brittany mahomes" on some on the people defending chappell "very fine people on both sides" roan who's uncle is a literal GOP legislator and the difference is so dramatic. it would be one thing if they kept the same energy, but they pick and choose when they get upset like we can't see all of their posts

Exactly. It’s legit the same accounts. I cannot take it seriously at all. I never do, and it’s even more ridiculous with those Taylor pfp or usernames.

So much for the “ holding her accountable” argument.

[ausetkmt]

17 Minutes Of Racist Karens Getting INSTANT KARMA!

white women going to learn if they keep doing this dumb shit that it never comes out in their favor.

be stupid and throw your hands at the wrong person and then find out through a quick educational course that you are not in charge

[bumblingbabooshka]

Watched Ep 3 of ENT and it's so funny how Archer yelled at Trip for "turning tail and running like a coward" when he's the one who told the ship to leave - my guy....you're the captain??? He had zero say in that?? You're the captain

[paracosim]

Cishet people who don’t use the right language but still have their heart in the right place are infinitely more helpful to the queer community than queer people who are up to date on terminology, know all the right things to say, yet spend their time and energy on harassing and threatening others in the community

[escoteriica]

I don't think OP is trying to co-opt the phrase but assert that a wider belief in bodily autonomy is an inherent requirement for any liberation movement. Espousing feminist ideals while saying addicts or those with mental illness should be forced into treatment, or supporting the prison industrial complex, etc, is the height of hypocrisy, and its all too common.

some of yall need to understand that "my body, my choice" also applies to:

addicts in active addiction with no intention of quitting

phys disabled people who deny medical treatment

neurodivergent people who deny psychiatric treatment (yes, including schizophrenic people and people with personality disorders)

trans people who want or don't want to medically transition (yes, including trans masc lesbians with top surgery and trans women without bottom surgery, yall are so weird to them wtf)

and if you can't understand that, then you don't get to use the phrase

[vamptastic]

it's really cool when people treat your assigned sex at birth and by extension your rejection of it as a trans person as something VERY important that precludes you from understanding or speaking on certain experiences but ALSO treat any self-identification with said assigned sex as proof that you're not actually transgender. one must constantly remember that they were once female and can never understand what it was like to once be male or vice versa, but ALSO one must never actually refer to themself as female/male, or relate to females/males, or acknowledge that others may see them as female/male, or claim that issues generally applicable only to females/males affect them. but also one must not forget that whatever amount of time one spent as female/male, no matter how brief, is a fundamental and inescapable part of one's being that implies certain things about them no matter what.

[zhelin-thames]

Tiny baby ghost

idea from Prompt for @silverblueglitter

part 2 and 3 are out Masterpost

The summoning circle glowed an eerie green, casting sharp shadows around the Justice League's meeting chamber. John Constantine, sleeves rolled up and cigarette dangling from his lips, muttered the last words of the incantation. The room held a tense silence, broken only by the faint hum of the magical energy.

When the green smoke cleared, instead of the imposing figure of the Ghost King they’d expected, a scrawny teenager in a black jumpsuit with white gloves and boots appeared, looking distinctly unimpressed.

“Seriously?!” Danny Phantom groaned, throwing up his hands. “It’s a school night!”

The room collectively blinked. Superman and Wonder Woman exchanged confused glances. Batman’s eyes narrowed behind his cowl, while the Batkids—perched around the room like chaotic gargoyles—leaned forward, intrigued.

“This… is the Ghost King?” Nightwing asked, his voice skeptical but amused.

“Ghost King?” Danny repeated, holding up a hand. “Nope. Wrong guy. Try again.”

“Clearly, this is a child,” Robin said flatly, stepping forward with his arms crossed. “Either the summoning ritual failed, or we’ve been deceived.”

“Who are you calling a child, mini-Nightmare?” Danny shot back, floating an inch off the ground to look taller. “I’m fifteen. How old are you, eight?”

“I am fourteen, you insufferable spirit,” Robin snapped, glaring daggers at him. “And you are woefully unqualified to speak to me in such a tone.”

Danny rolled his eyes. “Yeah, okay, Robin Junior. Let me know when you grow a sense of humor.”

Red Hood, perched casually on a table nearby, barked out a laugh. “I like this kid already.”

Robin scowled. “You would.”

Red Hood swung his legs off the table, standing to his full height. “Alright, Casper, if you’re not the Ghost King, why’d this ritual grab you instead?”

“That’s a great question! Wish I knew!” Danny said, throwing up his hands.

Constantine frowned, stepping closer. “You’re definitely ghostly, mate, and half-alive by the looks of you.” His sharp gaze softened just slightly. “You’re a bloody halfa.”

Danny froze, eyes darting to the swirling green barrier still holding him in the circle (not really). “I’m a ghost. And yeah, I’m alive. What’s it to you?”

Batman loomed closer, his deep voice cutting through the room. “If you’re not the Ghost King, why does this summoning work?”

“Great question! Wish I knew!” Danny threw up his arms again, his ectoplasm glowing faintly in frustration. “I don’t even know who you are, and you’ve already ruined my night! or Maybe the universe hates me. That’d explain a lot!”

“Who even made this circle?” Red Hood asked, pointing at Constantine. “Did you check it? It’s glowing green. That’s ghost vibes, man.”

“Thanks for the observation, Red Hood,” Constantine said dryly. “What gave it away, the ectoplasm or the ghost?”

“You are in no position to demand answers,” Batman growled.

“Oh my god, you’re worse than my parents,” Danny muttered.

Before Batman could respond, the air grew colder. A heavy, oppressive presence filled the room as green flames erupted in the middle of the chamber. From the flames stepped Pariah Dark, fully armored and radiating raw power, his glowing eyes zeroing in on Danny.

The League tensed, weapons at the ready, but Pariah didn’t even look at them. Instead, his expression softened in a way that could only be described as paternal as he reached out and plucked Danny out of the circle like a child grabbing a stuffed animal.

“Who dares summon my child?” Pariah rumbled, his deep voice shaking the room. He cradled Danny in one massive hand as though he were the most precious treasure in existence. Danny, for his part, just sighed and leaned against one of Pariah’s fingers.

“Dad, chill. They’re not trying to hurt me—” Danny shot a glare at Batman, “—yet.”

“‘Dad’?” Robin echoed, utterly baffled.

“They stressed him out,” Pariah continued as if Danny hadn’t spoken. “This is the third time in two weeks. Do you know how much sleep he’s lost? He has school!”

Pariah’s gaze darkened. “The third summoning this week,” he growled. “And for what? To disrupt his rest? His studies?”

“Studies?” Robin repeated incredulously. “This alleged ‘Ghost Prince’ is concerned with—”

“School,” Red Hood supplied helpfully, smirking. “That tracks. He’s just a kid.”

“I’M NOT JUST A KID!” Danny protested, his voice cracking slightly. Jason snorted.

Before anyone else could respond, Fright Knight materialized beside Pariah, his armor gleaming and his sword crackling with ghostly energy. He took one look at the summoning circle and grimaced.

“Shall I eliminate the offenders, my liege?” he asked Pariah, his grip tightening on his sword.

“No!” Danny yelped, waving his hands frantically. “No eliminating, no smiting! We talked about this, remember?”

Pariah sighed, his massive shoulders slumping. “They stressed you out,” he rumbled. “They should pay.”

“They’ll be fine,” Danny muttered. “Just… let me handle it, okay?”

“‘Fine,’ he says,” Red Hood muttered. “We’re seconds away from getting blasted into the afterlife.”

Robin's hand drifted toward his sword, his eyes darting between Pariah and Fright Knight. “This is absurd. We are the Justice League. Surely, we are not so easily—”

“Shut it, kid,” Consttantine interrupted. “Unless you want to test if we’re actually ‘fine.’”

Danny groaned. “Can we not do this right now?”

Wonder Woman stepped forward, her voice calm but firm. “We summoned you because we need the Ghost King’s aid to stop a catastrophic magical event threatening the world.”

“Then why not summon him?” Danny snapped. “I’m not the king!”

“Yet the ritual brought you,” Batman said, his voice a mix of curiosity and accusation.

Pariah’s gaze darkened. “The crown does not transfer unless challenged. And none shall dare challenge my son.”

Danny squirmed in his ghost-dad’s grip. “Okay, Dad, they get it. Can you not threaten to destroy the world for five minutes?”

Pariah huffed but gently set Danny down, though he remained close, a looming shadow of protective menace.

Constantine rubbed his temples, muttering something about “bloody teenagers” and “overprotective ghost tyrants.” Meanwhile, the Batkids exchanged glances, clearly plotting something.

Danny sighed. “Look, I’ll help you guys with your big, scary magical problem, but can we make it quick? I have a chem test tomorrow.”

[jiyoos]

[foldingfittedsheets]

The location of the sex shop I worked was a haven for spiders. We had tall ceilings and skylights and unused storage rooms. It was a spider paradise. We quickly sussed out which coworkers to call on in case of emergency. The Dorito lady was a solid ally for spiders but absolutely petrified of moths.

But there’s actually a hierarchy of fear. Most people don’t realize. The person least afraid is the one forced to deal with the bug in question. If coworker B was scared, but coworker A was petrified, well coworker B was gonna have to screw their courage to the sticking place because by the law of fear they were the most competent person on scene.

Thus enters Rick. Rick first appeared in the back storage room. This room doubled as a second bathroom so we went in on a semi frequent basis. The girl who’d gone in to pee shot out again gibbering with fear about the biggest spider she’d ever seen had just run across her boot.

We sicced Dorito lady on it. She returned, shaking her head. “He was squatting on a power cord where it plugs in. I couldn’t get a clean shot at Rick.”

“Rick?”

She shrugged. “Spiders that big need a name. Seemed like a Rick.”

Rick, freshly named, became a store menace. I’d normally say this was probably a case of multiple spiders being mistaken for one but everyone who encountered him swore up and down there could be no mistake. This spider was massive, fast, and distinct. A gladiator among arachnids.

I never encountered Rick. His exploits grew in the telling but the theme was consistent: no one could kill him. He’d hunker in places that no one could reach and dart away when a strike missed. He also chased off the more faint hearted, charging them in bold dashes. There could be no benign cup transplant to remove Rick from the premise. He was not leaving.

The saga of Rick continued for two months. Not seeing him was almost worse, a fearful wariness when going to the bathroom or stepping into quieter areas. I waited with dread, hoping my eventual run in would have me on shift with Dorito lady to protect me.

It was not to be. There was a girl the same who hated my one moment of singing that was absolute piss-herself scared of spiders. She’d slam straight into a panic attack and couldn’t think or speak. And so it was that one night on shift, I heard her scream.

It was unmistakable. I was in the front window turning off the open sign. Through an obstacle course of mannequins and lingerie I performed an acrobatic sprint out of the window, darting up to find her quivering at the front counter, fully crying. I radiated calm at her and said, “Just point.”

I knew it was Rick. Our destinies were intertwined and we had always been pulled toward the inexorable battle that was drawing nigh.

Her hand raised to point to our sandwich board sign at the front of the store. So Rick had the metaphorical high ground. There was no quick easy strike on the slanted signs surface.

I armed myself and marched into battle, my knuckles white on my chosen weapon. I would do this, because I must. Because there was no one else. And because I wanted to close and go home.

I saw Rick immediately and I honestly don’t think I’ve ever seen a bigger spider since. Outside of a tarantula, he was truly the most massive spider I’ve ever beheld outside a zoo enclosure or terrarium.

We regarded each other. Rick launched off the sign toward me and I stomped my foot reflexively, making him pause in his charge. Then I raised my weapon. Anything else, I believe Rick could have evaded. He’d bested most of the store thus far. But I had chosen chemical warfare.

I doused the shit out of that spider with cleaning spray, stunning him with a barrage of chemicals. While he froze, choking on the unexpected deluge, I dropped a paper towel over him. My foot came down.

I felt his exoskeleton crunch and I can feel it still to this day. The shattering was as of bones and I truly mourned that we had been forced into senseless war. If only he has cleaved tighter to the shadows. If only he’d crawled willing into a cup for relocation. I released a full body shudder of horror, fear, and adrenaline as I stepped back.

I took several quivering breaths. I donned a veneer of calm and tidied the battlefield of it’s corpse then went to reassure my coworker that all was well, while internally I still shook.

You fought well, Rick. I hope you sired many more monstrous children to haunt retail workers in the years to come. Rest in valor, you monster.