July 24, 2014 at 1:06am
68,575 notes
Reblogged from laineydiemond

sociolab:

Do you ever think about the fact that the US has created and legitimized a system of institutionalized inequality by funding schools through property taxes?  That basically a child’s education is only as good as the value of the property in their neighborhood.  Funny how education is so often viewed as an equalizing factor when there is nothing equal about it.

12:54am
4,698 notes
Reblogged from pizza-jpg

owlerart:

Show to friends who ask what Kill La Kill is about…

July 23, 2014 at 2:27pm
1 note

I don’t know if I agree with everything in that last post, but it does explain how a lot of the anti-Israel rhetoric can be absolutely terrifying as a Jew.
I’m not remotely religious, but to a lot anti-semites that doesn’t matter, so when there are protests in Europe against violence Gaza, with a serious amount of anti-Jewish sentiment thrown in, its really scary.
Israel is clearly not a victim in this case, and I believe that it is in their power to stop this violence in a less harmful way, but Jews are still victims of discrimination and violence in many places all over the world. Please do not direct your anger and frustration with the terrible tragedy taking place in Gaza at the idea of Israel as a state, or at the Jews as a people, it can only lead to more violence.

2:19pm
237 notes
Reblogged from johnskylar

Zionism, anti-Semitism, the Jews, and YOU.

johnskylar:

image

Do you hate what’s going on in Gaza right now as much as I do?

Let’s not compare.

Unless you’re there or you have relatives there—in which case, my heart goes out to you.  The main point is, I really hate the situation in Gaza.  I hate the violence, I hate the terrorism, I hate the fact that it’s all being done on an international bill.

One thing, though, that you may not be familiar with is the cringing sense of fear that a Jew develops every time there’s another flareup of violence in the region and they just know they’re going to hear constant abuse being hurled at Israel and at Jews, and it’s going to get ugly.  It’s par for the course.

Sure, you and I may say we hate what’s happening and not be anti-Semites, but that’s not what I’m talking about.  I’m talking about the riots and protests in Antwerp and Paris calling for the Jews to be killed, or the one in Germany where people specifically said we should be “gassed.”  The people who make constant comparisons between Israeli violence and Nazi genocide.  I’m even talking about the guy at Dashcon who started chanting “DEATH TO ISRAEL!” at people in the ball pit for no apparent reason.

In my lifetime, I’ve watched as my usual liberal circles become more accepting of both casual and aggressive anti-Semitism. It only hurts the cause of a Palestinian state by alienating classical liberal allies—Jews like me.

Read More

July 22, 2014 at 3:26pm
10 notes
Reblogged from chromacle

chromacle:

FUCKD_SPHER⑊CHROMACLE

 These gifs are based on animation I’ve been working on over the past couple of months. Created in Blender, using my lack of skills in rigging a mesh to my benefit, the shapes are very simple but manage to emote in a surprising way through their movement.

⑇ In the works is a shirt based on these, which will be available at lWlVl, and possibly online as well.

⑈ 2880 x 1800 WALLPAPER

1:21am
6,566 notes
Reblogged from actuallygrimes

Alek Wek, Givenchy by Alexander McQueen Spring/Summer 1997 Haute Couture

Alek Wek, Givenchy by Alexander McQueen Spring/Summer 1997 Haute Couture

(Source: black-model-famous)

July 21, 2014 at 12:09am
145,564 notes
Reblogged from laineydiemond

securelyinsecure:

poplockandpantydropit:

Adventure time be knowing

Well, damn

(Source: sandandglass)

12:05am
37,754 notes
Reblogged from seibei
allthingshyper:

ambermersadiez:

descentintotyranny:

A SWAT team blew a hole in my 2-year-old son — Alecia Phonesavanh
June 24 2014
After our house burned down in Wisconsin a few months ago, my husband and I packed our four young kids and all our belongings into a gold minivan and drove to my sister-in-law’s place, just outside of Atlanta. On the back windshield, we pasted six stick figures: a dad, a mom, three young girls, and one baby boy.
That minivan was sitting in the front driveway of my sister-in-law’s place the night a SWAT team broke in, looking for a small amount of drugs they thought my husband’s nephew had. Some of my kids’ toys were in the front yard, but the officers claimed they had no way of knowing children might be present. Our whole family was sleeping in the same room, one bed for us, one for the girls, and a crib.
After the SWAT team broke down the door, they threw a flashbang grenade inside. It landed in my son’s crib.
Flashbang grenades were created for soldiers to use during battle. When they explode, the noise is so loud and the flash is so bright that anyone close by is temporarily blinded and deafened. It’s been three weeks since the flashbang exploded next to my sleeping baby, and he’s still covered in burns.
There’s still a hole in his chest that exposes his ribs. At least that’s what I’ve been told; I’m afraid to look.
My husband’s nephew, the one they were looking for, wasn’t there. He doesn’t even live in that house. After breaking down the door, throwing my husband to the ground, and screaming at my children, the officers – armed with M16s – filed through the house like they were playing war. They searched for drugs and never found any.
I heard my baby wailing and asked one of the officers to let me hold him. He screamed at me to sit down and shut up and blocked my view, so I couldn’t see my son. I could see a singed crib. And I could see a pool of blood. The officers yelled at me to calm down and told me my son was fine, that he’d just lost a tooth. It was only hours later when they finally let us drive to the hospital that we found out Bou Bou was in the intensive burn unit and that he’d been placed into a medically induced coma.
For the last three weeks, my husband and I have been sleeping at the hospital. We tell our son that we love him and we’ll never leave him behind. His car seat is still in the minivan, right where it’s always been, and we whisper to him that soon we’ll be taking him home with us.

Every morning, I have to face the reality that my son is fighting for his life. It’s not clear whether he’ll live or die. All of this to find a small amount of drugs?
The only silver lining I can possibly see is that my baby Bou Bou’s story might make us angry enough that we stop accepting brutal SWAT raids as a normal way to fight the “war on drugs.” I know that this has happened to other families, here in Georgia and across the country. I know that SWAT teams are breaking into homes in the middle of the night, more often than not just to serve search warrants in drug cases. I know that too many local cops have stockpiled weapons that were made for soldiers to take to war. And as is usually the case with aggressive policing, I know that people of color and poor people are more likely to be targeted.  I know these things because of the American Civil Liberties Union’s new report, and because I’m working with them to push for restraints on the use of SWAT.
A few nights ago, my 8-year-old woke up in the middle of the night screaming, “No, don’t kill him! You’re hurting my brother! Don’t kill him.” How can I ever make that go away? I used to tell my kids that if they were ever in trouble, they should go to the police for help. Now my kids don’t want to go to sleep at night because they’re afraid the cops will kill them or their family. It’s time to remind the cops that they should be serving and protecting our neighborhoods, not waging war on the people in them.
I pray every minute that I’ll get to hear my son’s laugh again, that I’ll get to watch him eat French fries or hear him sing his favorite song from “Frozen.” I’d give anything to watch him chase after his sisters again. I want justice for my baby, and that means making sure no other family ever has to feel this horrible pain.

 Alecia Phonesavanh is the mother of Bounkham Phonesavanh, nicknamed “Baby Bou Bou.” She and her family live in Atlanta. For more information about Bou Bou, go to www.justiceforbabyboubou.com. 

Signal boost this. Signal boost the crap out of this.

Put that team in front of a firing squad

allthingshyper:

ambermersadiez:

descentintotyranny:

A SWAT team blew a hole in my 2-year-old son — Alecia Phonesavanh

June 24 2014

After our house burned down in Wisconsin a few months ago, my husband and I packed our four young kids and all our belongings into a gold minivan and drove to my sister-in-law’s place, just outside of Atlanta. On the back windshield, we pasted six stick figures: a dad, a mom, three young girls, and one baby boy.

That minivan was sitting in the front driveway of my sister-in-law’s place the night a SWAT team broke in, looking for a small amount of drugs they thought my husband’s nephew had. Some of my kids’ toys were in the front yard, but the officers claimed they had no way of knowing children might be present. Our whole family was sleeping in the same room, one bed for us, one for the girls, and a crib.

After the SWAT team broke down the door, they threw a flashbang grenade inside. It landed in my son’s crib.

Flashbang grenades were created for soldiers to use during battle. When they explode, the noise is so loud and the flash is so bright that anyone close by is temporarily blinded and deafened. It’s been three weeks since the flashbang exploded next to my sleeping baby, and he’s still covered in burns.

There’s still a hole in his chest that exposes his ribs. At least that’s what I’ve been told; I’m afraid to look.

My husband’s nephew, the one they were looking for, wasn’t there. He doesn’t even live in that house. After breaking down the door, throwing my husband to the ground, and screaming at my children, the officers – armed with M16s – filed through the house like they were playing war. They searched for drugs and never found any.

I heard my baby wailing and asked one of the officers to let me hold him. He screamed at me to sit down and shut up and blocked my view, so I couldn’t see my son. I could see a singed crib. And I could see a pool of blood. The officers yelled at me to calm down and told me my son was fine, that he’d just lost a tooth. It was only hours later when they finally let us drive to the hospital that we found out Bou Bou was in the intensive burn unit and that he’d been placed into a medically induced coma.

For the last three weeks, my husband and I have been sleeping at the hospital. We tell our son that we love him and we’ll never leave him behind. His car seat is still in the minivan, right where it’s always been, and we whisper to him that soon we’ll be taking him home with us.

Every morning, I have to face the reality that my son is fighting for his life. It’s not clear whether he’ll live or die. All of this to find a small amount of drugs?

The only silver lining I can possibly see is that my baby Bou Bou’s story might make us angry enough that we stop accepting brutal SWAT raids as a normal way to fight the “war on drugs.” I know that this has happened to other families, here in Georgia and across the country. I know that SWAT teams are breaking into homes in the middle of the night, more often than not just to serve search warrants in drug cases. I know that too many local cops have stockpiled weapons that were made for soldiers to take to war. And as is usually the case with aggressive policing, I know that people of color and poor people are more likely to be targeted.  I know these things because of the American Civil Liberties Union’s new report, and because I’m working with them to push for restraints on the use of SWAT.

A few nights ago, my 8-year-old woke up in the middle of the night screaming, “No, don’t kill him! You’re hurting my brother! Don’t kill him.” How can I ever make that go away? I used to tell my kids that if they were ever in trouble, they should go to the police for help. Now my kids don’t want to go to sleep at night because they’re afraid the cops will kill them or their family. It’s time to remind the cops that they should be serving and protecting our neighborhoods, not waging war on the people in them.

I pray every minute that I’ll get to hear my son’s laugh again, that I’ll get to watch him eat French fries or hear him sing his favorite song from “Frozen.” I’d give anything to watch him chase after his sisters again. I want justice for my baby, and that means making sure no other family ever has to feel this horrible pain.

Alecia Phonesavanh is the mother of Bounkham Phonesavanh, nicknamed “Baby Bou Bou.” She and her family live in Atlanta. For more information about Bou Bou, go to www.justiceforbabyboubou.com.

Signal boost this. Signal boost the crap out of this.

Put that team in front of a firing squad

July 20, 2014 at 11:45pm
22,224 notes
Reblogged from pizza-jpg

(Source: catastrofe)

11:17pm
721 notes
Reblogged from laineydiemond
bluepueblo:

Rainy Day, Northern California
photo via positive

bluepueblo:

Rainy Day, Northern California

photo via positive