Firstly, because we live in a hellscape where strangers must donate to make sure children aren't starving, if you have a dollar or maybe even two you should go give it to this youcaring. What is it, you ask? I WILL TELL YOU. It is a genuinely motherfucking Nice Thing In The World and I have to tell you I actually made calls to verify it was true because I had been told we lived in a post-apocalyptic hellscape and I'm that kind of cynic. But in actual real reality, a woman called Pamela Fergus has decided that the
I am crying and I am not the least bit ashamed to admit it.His death was senseless. His life was not. And these children will be fed because he lived, once.Thank you, Philando. I am sorry we could not get court justice for you.
Thanks, killermartinis. I'm about halfway through your book. My heart breaks for the life you led in the past, which all too much resembles the life I'm living now. Fortunately, I have a full business and social wardrobe, so when ultimately I find work, I'm ready. I also live in NYC, so I have no need of a car. The clinic where I use Medicaid is great, and I get specialty care in some of the best medical facilities in the city. I can turn $10 in EBT benefits into $12 at the Greenmarket. Unfortunately, no one wants to hire -- or even interview -- a 63 year old woman. I need a break. I never went through what you did; I haven't had a minimum wage or service job since I was a kid. However, I've spent all too many years as a temp, and now that work has dried up, too.
At least I don't have to worry about police murdering me.
Philand Castile is the proof (as if we needed more) that the gun laws in this country are racist. He had a concealed carry license, informed the cop he had a license and was armed, got shot, and not a peep from the NRA. If he was white, Wayne LaPissy would have been screaming his head off and rillng up every single NRA member until that cop had been fired, charged with murder, and convicted.
I'm glad for the fund in Castile's name, and thank you for brining this to our attention.
You know one of the things that infuriates me the most about these murdered-by-cops stories (and there are man attributes to choose from) is the "delightful" way the victims are posthumously slandered as brutal barely-restrained "hooligans", so that thebpolice and society at large to do to their reputations what was done to their bodies, with no way to counter in their own defense. So I'm glad that (among other positive benefits) that this charity alllows Castile to be a decent, caring, human being against and not "Thug Caricature #13" that an oh-so brave policeman/white supremacist had to valiantly defend against.
I am greatly honored to call Pam Fergus a dear friend. She is a psych professor and she and her students organized this fund. Her heart is very, very big.
Dear heart. See this is why I was so careful to say I only knew my life; I can't imagine your challenges. What I *do* know is that you'll manage, because that's what we do in the face of the unrelenting. We cope. Here's a partial list of things that will never go away no matter how much the job market sucks:
-orgasms-that kind of sunset where you feel calm even if you have a headache-that one day in the year where the temperature is perfect-books-really good street music-that feeling where you just look goddamned amazing today and you don't know why-basil pesto-cute men and/or women depending on your preference, you live in New York, they're everywhere and it's glorious to watch sometimes-flowers-that awesome thing where a guy is a dick at a cash register and another customer completely sets them down in spectacular fashion (rare, but.)
Hahahaha. I have basil from the Greenmarket and parsley from my CSA. The pine nuts (which I purchased when they were about a third their current price) are soaking. Making basil pesto tomorrow. I'm a great cook, and since I don't as a rule do physical labor (one day a week I shlep to Brooklyn to help a recovering friend with the kitty litter, trash, and recycling), I'm rarely too worn out to make food.
As for the rest of the list, some yes; some no. Yes, there are amazing looking people on the street, but there are also myriad assholes. Saturday while walking from West 31st Street, where I visited a friend, back home to the east village, I walked through Union Square Greenmarket to check for end-of-day specials. A 20-something kid (can't call him a man) stepped on my foot in passing, and screamed FUCK YOU right in my face, which was totally unexpected. I didn't let it bother me; I just found some 2-for-1 boxes of raspberries to take home. This is NYC, and the temperature is often perfect, so there's that. Most of the time, I don't enjoy street music, but every now and then there's a brilliant violist or something ....
This is just something peripheral, but why is it that once the policeman draws his gun, he begins to feel so threatened? So threatened that he has to shoot!These guys have nothing another man might want. These are just drivers who want to get out of a stupid traffic stop, and until the stupid traffic stop, they had no interest in dealing with a cop. The cops themselves must know this! Whereas a woman walking down the street has plenty of reason to feel threatened, because of being spoken to by strange men, who are bigger, who convey they'd like to grab her and could grab her if they wanted to that it would be fun, etc. But I, for example, have always endured this strain and not reached the point of wanting to carry a gun. It's just the strain women live with, that they're supposed to accept. These men may think it's funny, but the woman doesn't know: what's he going to do next?
I am crying and I am not the least bit ashamed to admit it.His death was senseless. His life was not. And these children will be fed because he lived, once.Thank you, Philando. I am sorry we could not get court justice for you.
Jesus fuck, Dave, we have been at war the entire time my children have been alive.Pretty sure there were times when we were not at war!
Thanks, killermartinis. I'm about halfway through your book. My heart breaks for the life you led in the past, which all too much resembles the life I'm living now. Fortunately, I have a full business and social wardrobe, so when ultimately I find work, I'm ready. I also live in NYC, so I have no need of a car. The clinic where I use Medicaid is great, and I get specialty care in some of the best medical facilities in the city. I can turn $10 in EBT benefits into $12 at the Greenmarket. Unfortunately, no one wants to hire -- or even interview -- a 63 year old woman. I need a break. I never went through what you did; I haven't had a minimum wage or service job since I was a kid. However, I've spent all too many years as a temp, and now that work has dried up, too.
At least I don't have to worry about police murdering me.
done and done. thanks Linda!
PS you're not crying, i'm crying.
hugs.
Thanks, Bad Scooter.
Philand Castile is the proof (as if we needed more) that the gun laws in this country are racist. He had a concealed carry license, informed the cop he had a license and was armed, got shot, and not a peep from the NRA. If he was white, Wayne LaPissy would have been screaming his head off and rillng up every single NRA member until that cop had been fired, charged with murder, and convicted.
I think the question would actually be, "What's this white powder, buddy?"
I'm glad for the fund in Castile's name, and thank you for brining this to our attention.
You know one of the things that infuriates me the most about these murdered-by-cops stories (and there are man attributes to choose from) is the "delightful" way the victims are posthumously slandered as brutal barely-restrained "hooligans", so that thebpolice and society at large to do to their reputations what was done to their bodies, with no way to counter in their own defense. So I'm glad that (among other positive benefits) that this charity alllows Castile to be a decent, caring, human being against and not "Thug Caricature #13" that an oh-so brave policeman/white supremacist had to valiantly defend against.
I am greatly honored to call Pam Fergus a dear friend. She is a psych professor and she and her students organized this fund. Her heart is very, very big.
Dear heart. See this is why I was so careful to say I only knew my life; I can't imagine your challenges. What I *do* know is that you'll manage, because that's what we do in the face of the unrelenting. We cope. Here's a partial list of things that will never go away no matter how much the job market sucks:
-orgasms-that kind of sunset where you feel calm even if you have a headache-that one day in the year where the temperature is perfect-books-really good street music-that feeling where you just look goddamned amazing today and you don't know why-basil pesto-cute men and/or women depending on your preference, you live in New York, they're everywhere and it's glorious to watch sometimes-flowers-that awesome thing where a guy is a dick at a cash register and another customer completely sets them down in spectacular fashion (rare, but.)
Hahahaha. I have basil from the Greenmarket and parsley from my CSA. The pine nuts (which I purchased when they were about a third their current price) are soaking. Making basil pesto tomorrow. I'm a great cook, and since I don't as a rule do physical labor (one day a week I shlep to Brooklyn to help a recovering friend with the kitty litter, trash, and recycling), I'm rarely too worn out to make food.
As for the rest of the list, some yes; some no. Yes, there are amazing looking people on the street, but there are also myriad assholes. Saturday while walking from West 31st Street, where I visited a friend, back home to the east village, I walked through Union Square Greenmarket to check for end-of-day specials. A 20-something kid (can't call him a man) stepped on my foot in passing, and screamed FUCK YOU right in my face, which was totally unexpected. I didn't let it bother me; I just found some 2-for-1 boxes of raspberries to take home. This is NYC, and the temperature is often perfect, so there's that. Most of the time, I don't enjoy street music, but every now and then there's a brilliant violist or something ....
This is just something peripheral, but why is it that once the policeman draws his gun, he begins to feel so threatened? So threatened that he has to shoot!These guys have nothing another man might want. These are just drivers who want to get out of a stupid traffic stop, and until the stupid traffic stop, they had no interest in dealing with a cop. The cops themselves must know this! Whereas a woman walking down the street has plenty of reason to feel threatened, because of being spoken to by strange men, who are bigger, who convey they'd like to grab her and could grab her if they wanted to that it would be fun, etc. But I, for example, have always endured this strain and not reached the point of wanting to carry a gun. It's just the strain women live with, that they're supposed to accept. These men may think it's funny, but the woman doesn't know: what's he going to do next?
Please thank her and tell her that at least one normally-cynical frog was moved to tears by this.
Maybe they'll do like some of the alt-right crowd and start calling themselves "racialists," like that extra syllable will make it respectable.
How about adding a morning meditation on the Hatch Act, this October 28th?