High-Speed photographs of ink dropped into water.
High-Speed photographs of ink dropped into water.
Or a playstation or a flat screen TV or a newer car, etc and etc. I know people that work under the table for half their pay and get paid on the books for the rest and collect welfare. I know of drug dealers that collect for tax purposes even though they pull in thousands of untaxed money each month dealing. Tell me how I am not supposed to be upset with these people like I am with greedy corporate cronies? I’m not heartless. These people are selfish and unethical.
Except not everyone who has nice things is automatically cheating the system. People are given things as gifts. People buy things and THEN qualify for assistance. People save up for nice things.
You can’t assume what someone’s situation is just by what they own.
We were eating only donated Panera bread, rice, and turnips. My father was sneaking to the various blood banks in town to sell his plasma at twice the rate they allow. My mother was dying due to not having her medicine, which cost well over $1,200 a month after insurance.
My autistic baby brother wanted to do something nice for me.
He worked for months making custom art pieces to sell. He worked up courage despite crippling social anxiety and speech problems to ask the neighbors if he could do chores for them to earn more money - raking the yard, helping clean their house, walking their dogs.
For nine months he carefully hoarded his money in a jar in his bedroom. He counted it every single night and compared it to the cost of what he wanted to get for me for Christmas.
Finally he had enough. He bought me a DS Lite and a pokemon game.
He was so happy.
Until one of our neighbors, a highly conservative jackass, saw me with it outside a couple weeks later. My brother was with me.
The neighbor stormed up and became screaming at us, a pair of teenagers, over how we could be so selfish to spend money on “electronic shit” when we were a family on food stamps. Spittle flying from his lips, cuss words every other second, rage radiating off of him so violently that our father came running out of the house - at a limp, since his spine is broken, which causes him horrific daily pain beyond what I can imagine - to protect us.
My brother was never the same again. There is no happy ending here. That episode in his life changed him permanently and for the past seven years he has almost never left his room and never gone to a friend’s house. He is terrified of the neighbors and believes he is a bad person.
Because of fucking people like you OP.
Because of fuckers who believe that they know what life is like for everyone and have a right to judge.
So fuck you OP. If you know drug dealers, report them, go on and put your ass on the line then. But for fuck’s sake don’t you dare thing you understand what goes on in the life of the people who live in never-ending, grinding poverty. Because you have *no fucking clue* what goes on in the detailed lives of others.
You want to talk selfish? Look in the fucking mirror.
This is an important post.
that time Bill O Reily was shocked and appalled that poor people could afford *gasp* A TV AND A FRIDGE IN THEIR APT?
and went on a rant saying these ppl shouldn’t be on welfare because they have a plasma tv and fridge because obviously poor people need to not have tvs and fridge because poor ppl should be storing their food underground in holes and draw on walls with stones and sticks for entertainment.
When I was a child on welfare, eating rotten lunch meat, walking in shoes with cardboard in the bottoms to cover the holes, I had an extensive collection of My Little Ponies. Not “one or two horses”; over three hundred, all told, and almost all the major playsets. Maybe, oh, 10% of the total came from my mother, over the course of the eight years I spent collecting and living with her. The rest were gifts from family members who didn’t know about our situation, but knew from Gramma’s chatty “everything is fine” letters that I loved My Little Pony. They were from the charity groups that let you sign up and specify what your children wanted for Christmas. They were from me saving every penny I found on the street. They were from favorite teachers who knew how poor we were, who wanted me to have birthday happiness. We’re talking thousands of dollars of plastic horses, almost none of which took a dime from Mom’s budget. And the ones that did? She was a mother trying not to break her daughter’s heart.
Every time someone yelled at us because poor people shouldn’t have nice things, we all died a little inside, and I clutched my horses even harder. I needed something bright and beautiful in the world, to make up for the roaches in the walls and the mold growing on the butter.
Unless you’re someone’s accountant, you don’t know where they’re putting their money, and it’s not your place to judge.
I am right at my fucking limit for judgemental shitstainery today. I just. I fucking CANNOT with these assholes.
Firstly, POVERTY IS NOT A FUCKING BINARY STATE. You aren’t either “poor” or “not-poor”, with absolutely zero middle ground between. Ceasing to be poor isn’t like a fucking Pokemon evolution - you don’t just shed that shit like a snakeskin and turn into a whole new being in seconds. Ceasing to be poor, especially in the face of severe social and economic pressure, is hard fucking yakka, and it happens slowly, in increments, over time, without sudden lottery-style explosions of new money but frequently featuring disappointing setbacks, and that means small things can improve before the big things do - like, for instance, being able to afford a shiny new phone to replace the dying one you’ve been stuck with for the past two years before you can afford to go off welfare. This sort of logic also ignores the idea that you can BECOME poor and still have around you the trappings of previous better-offness, like quality appliances. As convenient as it would be for the kind of troglodyte who likes to judge by appearances, becoming poor doesn’t mean you have to go hand in all your cool shit at the pawnshop, not least because a lot of that stuff - like functioning fridges and dryers, for instance - will SAVE YOU MONEY when you really need it later.
Secondly, anyone who thinks that poor people are fundamentally undeserving of luxury or treats or pleasure-buying or anything else that might alleviate the enormous fucking strain of being poor - because any departure from subsistence-level living means you’re an Eebil Welfare Slobqueen! - can go FALL IN A WELL AND DIE. I am fucking serious: if you, financially secure douchebag, have EVER gone and bought yourself a treat in order to make yourself feel better after a shitty day - if you’ve picked up some feelgood chocolate, or a new game, or a pricey bag, or a toy, or even something as simple as a taxi ride rather than a bus ticket because it was raining and you couldn’t face the queue - then you can SHUT THE FUCK UP FOREVER about the immortality if feelgood purchasing by people with less money than you. Because what you’re saying, when you sit down and police what people can and cannot buy, and the circumstances under which they buy it - what you’re saying is that poor people ARE NOT ENTITLED TO EMOTIONAL SECURITY; ARE NOT ENTITLED TO COMFORT; ARE NOT ENTITLED TO JOY, because they should be too busy scraping by with every fucking penny they have to notice that scraping by is utterly fucking soul-destroying.
Thirdly, a lot of the things you’re deeming “luxury” items? ARE FUCKING NECESSARY FOR GETTING ONESELF OUT OF POVERTY. Let’s see you try to jobhunt without a working phone or internet access. Let’s see you try to grocery shop on a budget for a family of four with no car and a freezer that’s just big enough for a couple of ice cube trays. Let’s see you keep yourself looking professionally presentable and your children schoolready when you’re handwashing all your clothes in the bath and hanging them out to dry on the radiator you can’t afford to turn on half the time, because your tiny income means choosing between warmth and medication.
What you’re doing, OP - you and other privileged assholes like you - is assuming that poverty is somehow EASY; that there’s no emotional, psychological toll to it that might ever need to be alleviated - not for adults, and especially not for children, because the children of poor people don’t deserve happy childhoods; presumably, they should just get jobs and work for their toys, as though this were Dickensian fucking England. You see objects, but not the sacrifice behind obtaining them; to you, objects have no context, no significance beyond their cost and status value, because THAT’S ALL THEY MEAN TO YOU. I used to work for a government department in Australia that provided free fridges and washing machines to people on welfare whose own had broken, and which they couldn’t afford to replace. I rang one woman to tell her that her fridge request had been approved, and she was literally fighting back tears of relief - not only had she been spending extra money she couldn’t afford buying groceries day to day, because all the food was spoiling without anywhere to keep it cool, but she’d been having to keep her young kids from realising just how bad things were, too - she’d told them they were having Ramadan early, fasting early, to explain why there was no food all of a sudden, and she didn’t know how much longer she could keep it up. I approved a washing machine for a single father who was struggling to keep his children out of foster homes after their mother, who had been their primary caregiver, was arrested; he needed one for the social workers to let him keep his kids, but was between jobs and didn’t have enough cash to replace the one that broke.
tl;dr: THERE IS NO ‘RIGHT’ WAY TO BE POOR, BECAUSE THERE IS NOTHING RIGHT ABOUT POVERTY. STOP POLICING POVERTY WITH YOUR MADE-UP FUCKING CHECKLIST OF RULES, AS THOUGH IT’S SOME COVETED, ADVANTAGE-CONFERRING CLUB THAT LAZY PEOPLE ARE TRYING TO SNEAK INTO INSTEAD OF A DIFFICULT, HEARTBREAKING, LIFE-THREATENING SITUATION. YOU DUMBASS.
Shit like this always boils down to the following: “How dare you try to live.”
Yeah, seriously. Don’t people have their own fucking lives to worry about instead of policing what “poor” people are owning? GTFO.
Oh man, I am totally starting to appreciate old people. This video is WONDERFUL.
Thanks to The Militant Baker these fantastic images/posters are spreading across Facebook like wild fire. Let’s keep the support going to bring awareness to this issue. BE PROGRESSIVE, NOT OPPRESSIVE.
anyone who can look around a town that has been flattened by an EF4 tornado, where people lost their homes, pets, and where SOMEONE DIED, and say, “God is really at work here! You can tell by all the people who have come to help out!” is an ASSHOLE. “God totally loves our town. You can tell by the way he sent a tornado to flatten it, then compelled some people to drive over bags of used clothes for the people whose homes he destroyed with a HUGE FUCKING TORNADO. Praise the lord!”
We demand justice: The racist killing of Renisha McBride
November 18, 2013
A 19-year-old African American woman is dead for the “crime” of asking for help after a car accident in a predominantly white suburb of Detroit.
Renisha McBride was shot in the head with a shotgun in the early morning hours of November 2. She had been in a car crash and—with her cell phone dead and bleeding from a wound on her head—was seeking help from residents.
According to reports, 54-year-old Theodore Wafer shot Renisha through the screen door of his home. Wafer didn’t call police until an hour later—at which point, he claimed to have fired in self-defense. He then changed his story, claiming the shotgun went off by accident—only to change it back again when prosecutors filed murder and manslaughter charges against him.
Contrary to initial reports, Renisha was shot not in the face but the back of the head, as she turned to leave, according to the Detroit Free Press—another contradiction of Wafer’s self-defense claim. Likewise, initial reports said Renisha’s body had been “dumped,” but police later said it was found on the porch.
Renisha’s murder is being compared to the Trayvon Martin case, and for good reason—Wafer is using “Stand Your Ground”-style self-defense laws to try to escape punishment by claiming that he felt threatened by Renisha.
Although her death was ruled a homicide, Wayne County Prosecutor Kym Worthy didn’t file charges for 13 days, during which time police and the mainstream media kept the killer’s identity secret. Worthy reportedly refused an initial request for a warrant by Dearborn Heights police, saying more investigation was needed.
Detroiters didn’t take the same do-nothing attitude toward Renisha’s murder.
On November 7, about 50 people gathered outside police department headquarters in Dearborn Heights. Dawud Walid, executive director of the Michigan chapter of the Council on American Islamic Relations, spoke for the crowd when he asked: “Had she been a white woman and the shooter a black man, would the shooter be sitting comfortably at home watching TV today?”
Two days later, some 200 people attended a rally, organized by the National Action Network, on the West Side of Detroit. Another protest was held a week later, on December 16, organized by the Detroit Coalition Against Police Brutality and the International Socialist Organization.
Faced with this mounting pressure, Worthy finally filed charges against Wafer, including second-degree murder and manslaughter.
Now that charges have been filed against Wafer, the media are taking another page out of the Trayvon Martin case and are putting the victim on trial. Mainstream outlets are reporting on toxicology reports showing that the alcohol level in Ranisha’s blood was past the legal limit for intoxication—and unconfirmed tests showing marijuana in her system. As if that justifies her execution by shotgun for seeking help.
Worthy insisted that the decision to charge Wafer had “nothing whatsoever to do with the race of the parties”—but no one who looks at the case can take that seriously. As journalist Rania Khalek wrote at her blog, Renisha was “a Black woman from Detroit, which is 82 percent Black, whereas Dearborn Heights, the area she was shot in, is 86 percent white.”
Anyone who has protest police violence and racism in Detroit is familiar with the double standards applied to Black and white, including by Kym Worthy, who is African American.
Worthy, for example, wasn’t so cautious about filing charges with Charles Jones, the father of Aiyana Jones, the seven-year-old girl murdered by Detroit police in her sleep three years ago. Shortly after Aiyana’s death during a police raid on her home, Charles was charged with providing the gun used in another murder. Although the only “evidence” against him was the testimony of a jailhouse snitch that had been thrown out by a judge, Jones has been held without bail for three years as Worthy continually postponed his trial.
The prosecutor assigned to Jones’ case is the very same one as for his daughter’s killer,which Worthy denies is a conflict of interest. In the case of Aiyana’s killer, the prosecutor’s office somehow managed to select an all-white jury from a predominantly Black area for the cop’s first trial, which ended in a mistrial.
This is only another example of a justice system that treats Black life as less valuable—something made gruesomely clear once every 28 hours—the rate at which African Americans are killed by police, security guards or vigilantes, according to a report by the Malcolm X Grassroots Movement.
It goes without saying that a Black man who killed a white woman on his porch would be put in jail right away. The news media wouldn’t be printing statements from his neighbors about how he’s a “good man” who “never bothered anybody.” Wafer wouldn’t have been released on 10 percent of a $250,000 bond and described as a “low risk to the community”—and the media wouldn’t be talking about whether he reasonably believed his life was in danger.
Illustration by Robert Trujillo, Dignidad Rebelde
Exhausted, sad, and completely empty, but terribly aware of how much worse things could be right now.
and then every time it gets close to christmas i reblog the fuck out this one
Ringle dingle jingle. Here’s some presents I bringle.
I JUS T SHRIEKED SO EMBARRASSINGLY LOUD
A few weeks ago, the local weekly paper ran a cover story about how women are missing from the local music scene, and how Eugene essentially doesn’t like and doesn’t support rockin’ ladies. I found this to be horribly false and uninformed, so I wrote a letter to the editor, which was published in the 11/7 issue of the Eugene Weekly. You can read the original article here. I’ve recieved an overwhelmingly good response on my letter, so I wanted to share it with the rest of you. I don’t write a lot anymore and I don’t post a lot of text heavy things on this blog, but, here goes:
The cover article of this week’s Eugene Weekly (10/31) cites Mac Goodwin of Oak Street Speakeasy as the lone female booker in Eugene. No disrespect to Mac and the impressive amount of work she does, but I call bullshit. I have been booking shows in Eugene for almost two years now under the title of Behavior Castle. Katie Stavasano has been setting up shows with Small Howl for several years, hosting heaps of rad ladies, women, and girls of every genre almost weekly. I’m sure there are others ladies booking, too.I grew up in Eugene, and in the past few years, I was frustrated at the lack of bands I wanted to see playing here. I also grew up attending Rock n Roll Camp for Girls in Portland, and after that, hosting The Girls Room radio show on KWVA for 5 years. More than anyone, I wanted to see actual up close and personal, live and in the flesh girls playing music. You know what else I wanted? Loud rock n roll music, not the singer/songwriter stuff that I enjoy more privately, quietly, at home alone.Instead of complaining, I started to set up my own shows with the help of my boyfriend, Sammy. Turns out, LOTS of bands want to play in Eugene, and our little operation has been growing with every event. The author claims close to no female bands play in Eugene. In the past year, we’ve hosted three rad bands containing ALL female members. In addition to that, almost every single one of our shows has had at least one girl in one of the bands playing that night. Just because a show isn’t billed as a “girl band”, doesn’t mean there aren’t ladies rocking it.You may not see these shows listed in the Ticket section of the Register Guard, so, you might ask, how do you find out about them? It’s easy! Check your neighborhood phone pole, House of Records, or even the bulletin board at your friendly downtown grocery store, and you’ll find a flier. Follow the blogs of people you like in town, the artists, photographers, musicians, they’re sure to post about a fun show coming up. Skip one fancy coffee drink or one pack of smokes a week, and spend that $5 attending a concert of a band you’ve never heard of. Leave your house instead of hiding behind your laptop, and see what’s happening before you say it’s nothing. In the month of November, we’re hosting 5 amazing bands with female members (White Mystery, Soothesayers, Big Eyes, Martian Manhunter, and La Luz).Eugene’s music scene is currently exploding, and I feel sorry for anyone who isn’t participating or hasn’t noticed. Anyone is welcome to come party at our shows, no matter what age, gender, or genre.You can find out about Behavior Castle shows at https://www.facebook.com/behaviorcastleThere was a lot more I could of added, and a lot more I think on the subject of women in music, but I tried to keep it relevant to the article and overall kind hearted.
Let me know what you think. Let me know if you read the original article (although it is infuriating.) Let me know if I can book your rad girl band. Let me know if you want to have fun!
Pretty sure I already reblogged this but what the hell. Love this campaign.
campaign bringing awareness to homeless youth
I adore this campaign so much.
I got this in sociology today. Sorry for the crappy quality, but I just really love it.
U r beautiful and ur gonna do great today