#how to use proscribe

[infoanalysishub]

Proscribe Definition, Meaning, Synonyms, Usage, Examples & More

Learn everything about the word “proscribe” including its pronunciation, definitions, synonyms, antonyms, etymology, grammar rules, usage in sentences, real-world examples, medical and kids’ definitions, rhyming words, and more. Proscribe Pronunciation pro·scribe/ˈproʊˌskraɪb/IPA: /prəʊˈskraɪb/ Definition of “Proscribe” Verb (transitive) To forbid or prohibit by law or authoritative…

[vaspider]

In defense of retellings & reimaginings

I'm not going to respond to the post that sparked this, because honestly, I don't really feel like getting in an argument, and because it's only vaguely even about the particular story that the other post discussed. The post in question objected to retellings of the Rape of Persephone which changed important elements of the story -- specifically, Persephone's level of agency, whether she was kidnapped, whether she ate seeds out of hunger, and so on. It is permissible, according to this thesis, to 'fill in empty spaces,' but not to change story elements, because 'those were important to the original tellers.' (These are acknowledged paraphrases, and I will launch you into the sun if you nitpick this paragraph.)

I understand why to the person writing that, that perspective is important, and why they -- especially as a self-described devotee of Persephone -- feel like they should proscribe boundaries around the myth. It's a perfectly valid perspective to use when sorting -- for example -- which things you choose to read. If you choose not to read anything which changes the elements which you feel are important, I applaud you.

However, the idea that one should only 'color in missing pieces,' especially when dealing with stories as old, multi-sourced, and fractional as ancient myths, and doing so with the argument that you shouldn't change things because those base elements were important to the people who originally crafted the stories, misses -- in my opinion -- the fundamental reason we tell stories and create myths in the first place.

Forgive me as I get super fucking nerdy about this. I've spent the last several years of my life wrestling with the concept of myths as storytelling devices, universality of myths, and why myths are even important at all as part of writing on something like a dozen books (a bunch of which aren't out yet) for a game centered around mythology. A lot of the stuff I've written has had to wrestle with exactly this concept -- that there is a Sacred Canon which cannot be disrupted, and that any disregard of [specific story elements] is an inexcusable betrayal.

Myths are stories we tell ourselves to understand who we are and what's important to us as individuals, as social groups, and as a society. The elements we utilize or change, those things we choose to include and exclude when telling and retelling a story, tell us what's important to us.

I could sit down and argue over the specific details which change over the -- at minimum -- 1700 years where Persephone/Kore/Proserpina was actively worshiped in Greek and Roman mystery cults, but I actually don't think those variations in specific are very important. What I think is important, however, is both the duration of her cults -- at minimum from 1500 BCE to 200CE -- and the concept that myths are stories we tell ourselves to understand who we are and what's important to us.

The idea that there was one, or even a small handful, of things that were most important to even a large swath of the people who 'originally' told the store of the Rape of Persephone or any other 'foundational' myth of what is broadly considered 'Western Culture,' when those myths were told and retold in active cultic worship for 1700 years... that seems kind of absurd to me on its face. Do we have the same broad cultural values as the original tellers of Beowulf, which is only (heh) between 1k-1.3k years old? How different are our marital traditions, our family traditions, and even our language? We can, at best, make broad statements, and of inclusive necessity, those statements must be broad enough as to lose incredible amounts of specificity. In order to make definitive, specific statements, we must leave out large swaths of the people to whom this story, or any like it, was important.

To move away from the specific story brought up by the poster whose words spun this off, because it really isn't about that story in particular, let's use The Matter of Britain/Arthuriana as our framing for the rest of this discussion. If you ask a random nerd on Tumblr, they'd probably cite a handful of story elements as essential -- though of course which ones they find most essential undoubtedly vary from nerd to nerd -- from the concept that Camelot Always Falls to Gawain and the Green Knight, Percival and the grail, Lancelot and Guinevere...

... but Lancelot/Guinevere and Percival are from Chrétien de Troyes in the 12th century, some ~500 years after Taliesin's first verses. Lancelot doesn't appear as a main character at all before de Troyes, and we can only potentially link him to characters from an 11th century story (Culhwch and Olwen) for which we don't have any extant manuscripts before the 15th century. Gawain's various roles in his numerous appearances are... conflicting characterizations at best.

The point here is not just that 'the things you think are essential parts of the story are not necessarily original,' or that 'there are a lot of different versions of this story over the centuries,' but also 'what you think of as essential is going to come back to that first thesis statement above.' What you find important about The Matter of Britain, and which story elements you think can be altered, filed off or filled in, will depend on what that story needs to tell you about yourself and what's important to you.

Does creating a new incarnation of Arthur in which she is a diasporic lesbian in outer space ruin a story originally about Welsh national identity and chivalric love? Does that disrespect the original stories? How about if Arthur is a 13th century Italian Jew? Does it disrespect the original stories if the author draws deliberate parallels between the seduction of Igerne and the story of David and Bathsheba?

Well. That depends on what's important to you.

Insisting that the core elements of a myth -- whichever elements you believe those to be -- must remain static essentially means 'I want this myth to stagnate and die.' Maybe it's because I am Jewish, and we constantly re-evaluate every word in Torah, over and over again, every single year, or maybe it's because I spend way, way too much time thinking about what's valuable in stories specifically because I write words about these concepts for money, but I don't find these arguments compelling at all, especially not when it comes to core, 'mainstream' mythologies. These are tools in the common toolbox, and everybody has access to them.

More important to me than the idea that these core elements of any given story must remain constant is, to paraphrase Dolly Parton, that a story knows what it is and does it on purpose. Should authors present retellings or reimaginings of the Rape of Persephone or The Matter of Britain which significantly alter historically-known story elements as 'uncovered' myths or present them as 'the real and original' story? Absolutely not. If someone handed me a book in which the new Grail was a limited edition Macklemore Taco Bell Baja Blast cup and told me this comes directly from recently-discovered 6th century writings of Taliesin, I would bonk them on the head with my hardcover The Once & Future King. Of course that's not the case, right?

But the concept of canon, historically, in these foundational myths has not been anything like our concept of canon today. Canon should function like a properly-fitted corset, in that it should support, not constrict, the breath in the story's lungs. If it does otherwise, authors should feel free to discard it in part or in whole.

Concepts of familial duty and the obligation of marriage don't necessarily resonate with modern audiences the way that the concept of self-determination, subversion of unreasonable and unjustified authority, and consent do. That is not what we, as a general society, value now. If the latter values are the values important to the author -- the story that the author needs to tell in order to express who they are individually and culturally and what values are important to them* -- then of course they should retell the story with those changed values. That is the point of myths, and always has been.

Common threads remain -- many of us move away from family support regardless of the consent involved in our relationships, and life can be terrifying when you're suddenly out of the immediate reach and support of your family -- because no matter how different some values are, essential human elements remain in every story. It's scary to be away from your mother for the first time. It's scary to live with someone new, in a new place. It's intimidating to find out that other people think you have a Purpose in life that you need to fulfill. It's hard to negotiate between the needs of your birth family and your chosen family.

None of this, to be clear, is to say that any particular person should feel that they need to read, enjoy, or appreciate any particular retelling, or that it's cool, hip and groovy to misrepresent your reworking of a myth as a 'new secret truth which has always been there.' If you're reworking a myth, be truthful about it, and if somebody told you 'hey did you know that it really -- ' and you ran with that and find out later you were wrong, well, correct the record. It's okay to not want to read or to not enjoy a retelling in which Arthur, Lancelot and Guinevere negotiate a triad and live happily ever after; it's not really okay to say 'you can't do that because you changed a story element which I feel is non-negotiable.' It's okay to say 'I don't think this works because -- ' because part of writing a story is that people are going to have opinions on it. It's kind of weird to say 'you're only allowed to color inside these lines.'

That's not true, and it never has been. Greek myths are not from a closed culture. Roman myths are not sacrosanct. There are plenty of stories which outsiders should leave the hell alone, but Greek and Roman myths are simply not on that list. There is just no world in which you can make an argument that the stories of the Greek and Roman Empires are somehow not open season to the entire English-speaking world. They are the public-est of domain.

You don't have to like what people do with it, but that doesn't make people wrong for writing it, and they certainly don't have to color within the lines you or anyone else draws. Critique how they tell the story, but they haven't committed some sort of cultural treachery by telling the stories which are important to them rather than the stories important to someone 2500 years dead.

****

*These are not the only reasons to tell a story and I am not in any way saying that an author is only permitted to retell a story to express their own values. There are as many reasons to tell a story as there are stories, and I don't really think any reason to create fiction is more or less valid than any other. I am discussing, specifically, the concept of myths as conveyors of essential cultural truths.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Against transparency

I'm on a 20+ city book tour for my new novel PICKS AND SHOVELS. Catch me at NEW ZEALAND'S UNITY BOOKS in AUCKLAND on May 2, and in WELLINGTON on May 3. More tour dates (Pittsburgh, PDX, London, Manchester) here.

Walk down any street in California for more than a couple minutes and you will come upon a sign warning you that a product or just an area "contains chemicals known to the state of California to cause cancer."

These warnings are posted to comply with Prop 65, a 1986 law that requires firms to notify you if they're exposing you to cancer risk. The hope was that a legal requirement to warn people about potential carcinogens would lead to a reduction in the use of carcinogens in commonly used products. But the joke's on us: since nearly everything has chemicals that trigger Prop 65 warnings, the warnings become a kind of background hiss. I've lived in California five times now, and I've never once seen a shred of evidence that a Prop 65 warning deters anyone from buying, consuming, using, or approaching anything. I mean, Disneyland is plastered in these warnings.

The idea behind Prop 65 was to "inform consumers" so they could "vote with their wallets." But "is this carcinogenic?" isn't a simple question. Many chemicals are carcinogenic if they come into contact with bare skin, or mucus membranes, but not if they are – for example – underfoot, in contact with the soles of your shoes. Other chemicals are dangerous when they're fresh and offgassing, but become safe once all the volatiles and aromatics have boiled off of them.

Prop 65 is often presented as a story of overregulation, but I think it's a matter of underregulation. Rather than simply telling you that there's a potential carcinogen nearby and leaving you to figure out whether you've exceeded your risk threshold, a useful regulatory framework would require firms to use their products in ways that minimize cancer risk. For example, if a product ships with a chemical that is potentially carcinogenic for a couple weeks after it is manufactured, then the law could require the manufacturer to air out the product for 14 days before shipping it to the wholesaler.

"Caveat emptor" has its place – say, at a yard-sale, or when buying lemonade from a kid raising money for a school trip – but routine shopping shouldn't be a life-or-death matter than you can only survive if you are willing and able to review extensive, peer-reviewed, paywalled toxicology literature. When a product poses a serious threat to our health, it should either be prohibited, or have its use proscribed, so that a reasonable, prudent person doing normal things doesn't have to worry that they've missed a potentially lethal gotcha.

In other words, transparency is nice, but it's not enough.

Think of the "privacy policies" you're asked to click through a thousand times a day. No one reads these. No one has ever read these. For the first six months that Twitter was in business, its privacy policy was full of mentions to Flickr, because that's where they ganked the policy from, and they missed a bunch of search/replace operations. That's funny – but far funnier is that no one at Twitter read the privacy policy, because if they had, they would have noticed this.

You know what would be better than a privacy policy? A privacy law. The last time Congress passed a consumer privacy law was in 1988, when they banned video store clerks from disclosing which VHS cassettes you took home. The fact is that virtually any privacy violation, no matter how ghastly or harmful to you, is legal, provided that you are "notified" through a privacy policy.

Which is why privacy policies are actually privacy invasion policies. No one reads these things because we all know we disagree with every word in them, including "and" and "the." They all boil down to, "By being stupid enough to use this service, you agree that I'm allowed to come to your house, punch your grandmother, wear your underwear, make long distance calls, and eat all the food in your fridge."

And like Prop 65 warnings, these privacy policies are everywhere, and – like Prop 65 warnings – they have proven useless. Companies don't craft better privacy policies because so long as everyone has a terrible bullshit privacy policy, there's no reason to.

My blog, pluralistic.net has two privacy policies. One sits across the top of every page:

Privacy policy: we don't collect or retain any data at all ever period.

The other one appears in the sidebar:

By reading this website, you agree, on behalf of your employer, to release me from all obligations and waivers arising from any and all NON-NEGOTIATED agreements, licenses, terms-of-service, shrinkwrap, clickwrap, browsewrap, confidentiality, non-disclosure, non-compete and acceptable use policies ("BOGUS AGREEMENTS") that I have entered into with your employer, its partners, licensors, agents and assigns, in perpetuity, without prejudice to my ongoing rights and privileges. You further represent that you have the authority to release me from any BOGUS AGREEMENTS on behalf of your employer.

The second one is a joke, obviously (it sits above a sidebar element that proclaims "Optimized for Netscape Navigator."). But what's most funny is that when I used to run it at the bottom of all my emails, I totally freaked out a bunch of reps from Big Tech companies on a standards committee that was trying to standardizes abusive, controlling browser technology and cram it down two billion peoples' throats. These guys kvetched endlessly that it was unfair for me to simply declare that they'd agreed that they would do a bunch of stuff for me on behalf of their bosses.

My first response was, of course, "Lighten up, Francis." But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that these guys actually believed that showering someone in endless volleys of fine print actually created legal contracts and consent, and that I might someday sue their employers because I had cleverly released myself from their BOGUS AGREEMENTS.

Of course, that would be very stupid. I can't just wave a piece of paper in your face, shout "YOU AGREED" and steal your bike. But substitute "bike" for "private data" and that's exactly the system we have with privacy policies. Rather than providing notice of odious and unconscionable behavior and hoping that "market forces" sort it out, we should just update privacy law so that doing certain things with your private data is illegal, without your ongoing, continuous, revocable consent.

Obviously, this would come as a severe shock to the tech economy, which is totally structured around commercial surveillance. But the fact that an extremely harmful practice is also extremely widespread is not a reason to keep on doing it – it's a reason to stop. There was a time when we let companies sell radium suppositories, and then, one day, we just banned companies from telling you to put nuclear waste up your asshole:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/09/19/just-stop-putting-that-up-your-ass/#harm-reduction

We didn't fall back on the "freedom to contract" or "bodily autonomy." Sure, what you do with your body is your own business, but that doesn't imply that quacks should have free rein to trick you into using their murderous products.

And just as there are legitimate, therapeutic uses of radioisotopes (I'm having a PT scan on Monday!), there are legitimate reasons to share your private data. We don't need to resort to outright bans – we can just regulate things. For example, in 2022 Stanford Law's Mark Lemley proposed an absolutely ingenious answer to abusive Terms of Service:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/08/10/be-reasonable/#i-would-prefer-not-to

Lemley proposes constructing a set of "default rules" for routine agreements, made up of the "explicit and implicit" rules of contracts, including common law, the Uniform Commercial Code, and the Restatement of Contracts. Any time you're presented with a license agreement, you can turn it down in favor of the "default rules" that everyone knows and understands. Anyone who accepts a EULA instead must truly be consenting to a special set of rules. If you want your EULA to get chosen over the default rules, you need to make it short, clear and reasonable.

If we're gonna replace "caveat emptor" with rules that let you go about your business without reading 10,000,000 words of bullshit legalese every time you leave your house (or pick up your phone), we need smart policymakers to create those rules.

Since 2010, America has had an agency that was charged with creating and policing those rules, so you could do normal stuff without worrying that you were accidentally signing your life away. That agency is called the the Consumer Finance Protection Bureau, and though it did good work for its first decade of existence, it wasn't until the Biden era, when Rohit Chopra took over the agency, that it came into its own.

Under Chopra, the CFPB became a powerhouse, going after one scam after another, racking up a series of impressive wins:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/10/getting-things-done/#deliverism

The CFPB didn't just react, either. They staffed up with smart technologists and created innovative, smart, effective initiatives to keep you from getting ripped off:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/11/01/bankshot/#personal-financial-data-rights

Under Chopra, the CFPB was in the news all the time, as they scored victory after victory. These days, the CFPB is in the news again, but for much uglier reasons. For billionaire scammers like Elon Musk, CFPB is the most hated of all the federal agencies. Musk's Doge has been trying to "delete the CFPB" since they arrived on the scene, but their hatred has made them so frenzied that they keep screwing up and losing in court. They just lost again:

https://prospect.org/justice/2025-04-18-federal-judge-halts-cfpb-purge-again/

Trumpland is full of the people on the other side of those EULAs, the people who think that if they can trick you out of your money, "that makes me smart":

https://pluralistic.net/2024/12/04/its-not-a-lie/#its-a-premature-truth

If Musk can trick you into buying a Tesla after lying about full self driving, that doesn't make him a scammer, "that makes him smart." If Trump can stiff his contractors, that doesn't make him a crook, "that makes him smart."

It's not a coincidence that these guys went after the CFPB. It's no mystery why they've gone after every watchdog that keeps you from getting scammed, poisoned or maimed, from the FDA to the EPA to the NLRB. They are the kind of people who say, "So long as it was in the fine print, and so long I could foist that fine-print on you, that's a fair deal." For them, caveat emptor is a Latin phrase that means, "Surprise, you're dead."

It's bad enough when companies do this to us, be they Big Tech, health insurers or airlines. But when the government takes these grifters' side over yours – when grifters take over the government – hold onto your wallets:

https://www.citationneeded.news/trump-crypto-empire/

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/04/19/gotcha/#known-to-the-state-of-california-to-cause-cancer

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

[the-garbanzo-annex-jr]

by Brendan O'Neill

The lawyers have submitted a 106-page legal application to the home secretary. It wails about how unfair it is that Britain brands Hamas a terror group. Yes, how dare we use the word terrorist to describe a movement that sent thousands of armed hysterics to slit the throats of Jews on 7 October 2023? Hamas is a ‘resistance movement’, the application says, whose aim is to ‘liberate Palestine’. The trouble is, Hamas, that those of us still in possession of a moral compass know what this means: you want to ‘liberate’ the Middle East of its Jews. You want to banish, with savage violence, the Jews from their homeland. And that’s terrorism. Actually, it’s worse: it’s the dream of genocide wrapped in the lie of ‘resistance’.

Hamas’s military wing, the Al-Qassam Brigades, was proscribed in 2001. Its political wing was proscribed in 2021, when the then Tory government decided that the distinction between the two was ‘artificial’. The proscription means it’s a criminal offence for anyone here to be a member of Hamas or to drum up support for it. Waving the Hamas flag and wearing pro-Hamas clothing is a crime, too. Hamas – brace yourselves for this – is now citing the European Convention on Human Rights against the UK government. Your proscription of our lovely resistance movement is an assault on our British supporters’ ‘freedom of speech’, it says.

Look, I am such a free-speech fundamentalist that I even think people should be free to say they like Hamas. Join it? Absolutely not. Fundraise for it? No way. But spout bollocks about it being a ‘resistance movement’? Yes. Such speech is surely better dealt with in the free and rowdy public sphere than in the courts. My preference would be for Cable Street-style fightbacks against Britain’s witless armies of bourgeois and Islamist sympathisers with Hamas’s neo-fascism. Instead of us phoning the police, they should be phoning ambulances – as Mosley found out, that’s the risk you take when you hit our streets and sing the praises of Jew-killers.

Yet this case – of course – is not a plea for free speech. It’s a demand that we buy into Hamas’s vile lie about being a ‘liberation and resistance movement’ that just wants to ‘confront the Zionist project’. It’s a call not for liberty but for submission – the submission of the British government, and by extension British citizens, to Hamas’s frothing hatred for the Jewish nation that it perfidiously disguises as a political challenge to Zionism. This case is of a piece with the punishingly illiberal ideology of ‘Islamophobia’, in that it seeks to ringfence Islamist extremism from our moral judgement. In this case, our moral judgement that Hamas is a terrorist group and that its war on Israel is anti-Semitic barbarism.

Here’s the thing, though: it isn’t only Hamas and its weird lawyers who think the t-word should not be applied to this murderous movement. Polite society is packed with people who refuse to call these terrorists terrorists. Remember when the BBC published that smug, pious explanation for why it doesn’t call Hamas ‘terrorists’? It’s because it’s a ‘loaded word’, it said, and it isn’t our job ‘to tell people who to support and who to condemn’. Who do they think they’re kidding? The Brexit-bashing, Trump-hating BBC has suddenly discovered impartiality? It published that piece just four days after Hamas raped and butchered the Jews of southern Israel. Reith spins in his grave.

[germiyahu]

There's such an intricate interplay between antisemitism and islamophobia from the slacktivist left. For every reason they can think of to delegitimize the Jewish People's connection to Eretz Yisrael, it's propped up by some Noble Savage presumptions about Palestinians/Arabs/Muslims.

Since Jews in America are seen as a model minority, seen as having accessed whiteness and privilege, and "antisemitism" is at worst having to explain what Hanukah is to clueless Christians, the Left is confused as to exactly why Jews care about Jerusalem and the Land of Israel so much. Shouldn't they be above such petty and barbaric and outdated concerns such as a dusty old book from 2,000 years ago?

They should be more enlightened than that. They're all rich suburban secular Democrats. They're the leftist religion, according to bloggers on this very platform. There is no room for Judaism to be a religion, there's no acknowledgment of ancient customs, rituals, and the deep mysticism that's still alive and well in the Jewish community. There's no attempt to understand Jewish history and culture and why a group of people you think shares your vaguely atheistic vaguely liberal (and not in the Tankie sense) vaguely smug detached Western worldview... is more complex and unique than that.

Jews should be happy living in Diaspora because clearly the problem of antisemitism is fixed now, and never really was a problem in America. There must be something sinister behind a desire to reestablish a country by and for Jews. There must be something colonial, oppressive, European and White about it. Because why else would they do it? They have it good here. And no we won't acknowledge where Israelis primarily descend from because that requires us to do research and have a shred of nuance and integrity when it comes to Jews. No thanks!

A lot of the modern left is nonconsensually dragging Jews kicking and screaming from their own unique demographic toward the banal Norm. To themselves. But not totally. See they think they relate to Jews and vice versa, but not enough that when they think Jews should "know better," or haven't "learned their lesson," from the Holocaust, it engenders a deep seeded disgust and mistrust and rage that's not felt for actually privileged mainstream dominant society.

Conversely, the slacktivist Left sees Arabs as savages. Silly desert people who eat sand and worship a big black cube and cover every inch of their bodies for some reason. How quaint! When the Palestinian/Arab/Muslim cause explains that Jerusalem is important to them, the White Western Leftist nods sagely and says "Your culture is so valid queen," because they don't care. They just accept that Muslim society would be willing to fight over an ancient city proscribed as holy in dusty old tomes. Because that fits the narrative already surrounding Muslims.

They're seen as backwards, but the Left, reacting to their conservative parents and the Bush era, see "Muslims are backwards," and says not "No actually they're modern groups of people with practical geopolitical goals," but instead "Yeah and that makes them better than us!" Especially with this new crop of baby Leftists who think Islamo-Fascist "Feudalism" or whatever the best term would be, is aspirational or at least harmless... because it's not capitalism :)

So Muslims are infantilized and condescended to because the Western Leftist is still just as racist as their parents, but they feel guilty about their parents without considering their contribution to White Supremacy and the Post Bush surveillance state. And all the while Jews are reprimanded and held to an impossible standard because the Western Leftist, again, rejects their conservative parents' philosemitism, and decides that Jews Must be Punished when they step off the pedestal that Suffering the Shoah placed them on.

Jews should be above nationalism, Jews should know that demurely suffering pogroms and ethnic cleansing and genocide and general inequity and humiliation will earn them their divine reward in the end. Muslims should not be above nationalism, because they're not capable of being above it, and can't we throw them a bone, after all Obama was the worst president in history because of the Drone War and let's not mention George W Bush at all :0

Hot take, but I believe this is an essential underpinning of where the average disaffected White millennial/zoomer Leftist's head is at with regard to Israel and Palestine. They won't acknowledge it of course, but I can generally see through things like this.

[anotherhumaninthisworld]

Very specific frev stuff that if I had a nickel for every time it happened I’d have two nickels, which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it happened twice

Danton boasting about having sex with his wife every night

The word virtue made Danton laugh; he didn’t have a more solid virtue, he said amusingly, than the one which he did every night with his wife. How could a man, to whom every idea of morality was foreign, be the defender of liberty?  Robespierre’s notes against the dantonists, written somewhere in March 1794 and published in 1841

Danton in the chamber of the accused: Me a conspirator? I f… my wife everyday. My name is attached to all revolutionary institutions, the revolutionary army, revolutionary committee, Committee of Public Safety, Revolutionary Tribunal.  Notes de Topino-Lebrun, juré au Tribunal révolutionnaire de Paris sur le procès de Danton et sur Fouquier-Tinville, written during Danton’s trial in 1794 and published for the first time 1875.

Pétion being forced to share a bed with another revolutionary

We went up to the upper rooms; the sentries were immediately posted at all the doors. The King, the Queen, Madame Elisabeth, the Prince, Madame [Royale], Madame de Tourzel had supper together, Messrs. Maubourg, Barnave, Dumas and I had supper in another apartment; we made our dispatches for the National Assembly, I went to bed at three o'clock in the morning; Barnave came to sleep in the same bed. I was already asleep. We got up at five o'clock. Voyage de Pétion au retour de Varennes, cited in Mémoires inédits de Pétion et Mémoires de Buzot & de Barbaroux (1866) page 196.

This man, whose name must be recorded here, Baptiste Troquart, with the only means of existence provided by difficult work, did not hesitate to brave the dangers, to help proscribed deputies. […] We learned from his own mouth all the precautions, all the tricks that had to be used, all the fatigue that had to be braved for their first needs: the details were touching. We also visited the asylum of the poor (Buzot’s expression). “There, he told us, Buzot and Pétion slept; they occupied my bed; here, on mattresses, rested Barbaroux; there we cooked together; in this old armchair sat Pétion.” Preface to Mémoires sur la Révolution française , par Buzot, député a la Convention nationale, précédés d'un précis de sa vie et de recherches historiques sur les Girondins (1828), page 17-18.

A 34 year old unmarried sister of a prominent revolutionary openly wishing for Robespierre’s death in the spring of 1794

”But since they want your head, take, if necessary, theirs, remember that, without you, Robespierre will very quickly be swallowed up himself. My brother told me the day before his death that he was only good at making speeches, that he understood nothing about government, and that he would lose his head at the first crisis. If he abandons you, his friend, you, the man of August 10, he is only a villain; he must perish. Collect your thoughts for an hour, and mount the rostrum: change the committees; proscribe them if necessary.” Albertine Marat to Danton at the eve of his arrest, anecdote published in Histoire de la Révolution française (1850) by Nicolas Villiaumé, volume 4, page 41. Villiaumé had gotten into contact with Albertine Marat before her death, so it’s most likely she herself who is the origin of this anecdote.

”…I loved [Maximilien] tenderly, I still do… His excesses are the consequence of the domination under which he groans, I am sure of it, but knowing no way to break the yoke he has allowed himself to be placed under, and no longer able to bear the pain and the shame of to see my brother devote his name to general execration, I ardently desire his death as well as mine. Judge of my unhappiness! Charlotte Robespierre in May 1794, according to La Révolution, la Terreur, le Directoire, 1791-1799: d'après les Mémoires de Gaillard, ancien président du Directoire exécutif de Seine-et-Marne, conseiller en cassation (1909), p. 263.

A revolutionary describing someone they actually knew during their childhood as a child in order to justify their recent shenanigans

You (Pétion) have told me (Robespierre) twenty times that Brissot was a child, and that is the common word of the coterie, when it comes to explaining certain rather strong mischievous acts that he is accused of. Réponse de Maximilien Robespierre à Jérôme Pétion (November 1792)

Robespierre: Camille's writings are to be condemned, without a doubt; but it is nevertheless important to distinguish the person from his works. Camille is a spoiled child who had a happy disposition, but who was led astray by bad company. We must crack down on his numbers, which Brissot himself would not have dared to admit, and keep Desmoulins among us. Robespierre at the Jacobins, January 7 1794

Lucile Desmoulins predicting Marie-Antoinette’s fate

O woman, cruel woman, woman unworthy of the sun that shines on you, what, shall not celestial vengeance burst entirely on your head, will you triumph? Go, the day may not be far off when all the evils you cause will fall on you! You will groan then, but it will be too late! We won’t complain! Fear the example of queens who, like you, have done evil! See: some perished in misery, others were sent to the scaffold. This may be the fate that awaits you… Lucile in her diary, summer 1789

If destiny had placed me on the throne, if I was queen, and, having brought pain to my subjects, a just death for my crimes had been prepared for me, I wouldn’t wait for the moment when an unrestrained population came to tear me from my palace to drag me unworthily to the foot of the scaffold, I would prevent their blows, I say, and would like by dying to impose them on the entire universe. I would have a large enclosure prepared in a public place, I would have a stake erected there and barriers surrounding it, and three days before my death I would let the people know my intentions. At the back of the enclosure and opposite the stake I would erect an altar. During these three days I would go to the foot of this altar to pray to the great master of the universe, on the third day I would like all my mourning family to accompany me to the stake, this ceremony would take place at midnight by light torches. Short story by Lucile titled ”What I would do if I were in her place,” first cited in Les Autographes et le goûts des autographes en France et à l’entranger (1865) page 301-302.

A revolutionary courting a girl before contributing to the execution of her older sibling

Robespierre, if you are not a tiger with a human face, if the blood of Camille has not inebriated you to the point that you’ve lost your reason entirely, if you remember our evenings of intimacy, if you remember the carrasses you lavished on little Horace, that you delighted to hold him upon your knee, if you remember that you were to have been my son-in-law, spare an innocent victim. Letter from Annette Duplessis to Robespierre, the day her daughter Lucile Desmoulins gets sentenced to death by the Revolutionary Tribunal

Fouché had shown the most ardent patriotism, the most sacred devotion since the beginning of the revolution. My brother, who believed him sincere, had accorded him his friendship and his esteem; he spoke to me of him as a proven democrat, and introduced him to me in praising him and asking me to give him my esteem. Fouché, after having been introduced to me by my brother, came to see me assiduously, and had those regards and attentions that one has for a person in whom one is particularly interested. Fouché was not handsome, but he had a charming wit and was extremely amiable. He spoke to me of marriage, and I admit that I felt no repugnance for that bond, and that I was well enough disposed to accord my hand to he whom my brother had introduced to me as a pure democrat and his friend. I did not know that Fouché was only a hypocrite, a swindler, a man without convictions, without morals, and capable of doing anything to satisfy his frenzied ambition. He knew so well how to disguise his vile sentiments and his malicious passions in my eyes as in my brother’s, that I was his dupe as well as Maximilien. I responded to his proposition that I wanted to think about it and consult my brother, and I asked him the time to resolve myself. I spoke of it, effectively, to Robespierre, who showed no opposition to my union with Fouché.   Mémoires de Charlotte Robespierre sur ses deux frères (1834) page 122-123. Charlotte places the courtship in the midst of the revolution, which can hardly be accurate given the fact Fouché was already married by then, but it does sound likely for it to have happened somewhere between 1788 and 1790, when both of them were unmarried and lived in Arras.

Danton crying over the fate of the girondins 

I could not convince myself that among all those who, since May 31, had retained great popularity, there was not one who did not still retain a little humanity, and I went to Danton. He was ill, it only took me two minutes to see that his illness was above all a deep pain and a great dismay at everything that was coming. ”I won't be able to save them (the girondins)”, were the first words out of his mouth, and, as he uttered them, all the strength of this man, who has been compared to an athlete, was defeated, big tears strolled down his face, whose shapes could have been used to represent that of Tartarus. […] When the fate reserved for the twenty-two [girondins] seemed inevitable, Danton already heard, so to speak, his death sentence in theirs. All the strength of this triumphant athlete of democracy succumbed under the feeling of the crimes of democracy and its disorders. He could only talk about the countryside, he was suffocating, he needed to escape from men in order to be able to breathe.  Memoirs of the revolution; or, an apology for my conduct, in the public employments which I have held (1795) by Dominique-Joseph Garat, p. 233-234, 241.

Danton was in Arcis in the month of November 1793. One day, when he was walking in his garden with M. Doulet, a third person came towards them, walking with great steps and holding a paper in his hand (it was a journal). As soon as he could make himself heard he cried out: ”Good news! Good news!” and approached them.  ”What news?” said Danton.  ”Here, read! The girondins have been condemned and executed,” responded the person that had just arrived.  ”And you call this good news, you wretch?” cried Danton in his turn, Danton whose eyes immediately got filled with tears. ”The death of the girondins good news? Wretch!” ”Without a doubt,” responded his interlocuteur, ”weren’t they factious?   ���Factious,” said Danton. Aren’t we factious? We all deserve death just as much as the girondins, we will all suffer, one after the other, the same fate as them.”  Mémoire écrit en 1846 par les deux fils de Danton le conventionnel, pour détruire les accusations de vénalité portées contre leur père, cited in Danton, mémoire sur sa vie privée(1865) by Jean François Eugène Robinet, p. 277-278. Danton’s sons claimed to have obtained this anecdote from the son of the M. Doulet mentioned in it.

[citygirlyuno305]

Why Mikoto would be found guilty irl and how the law/laypeople on juries justify imprisoning a host for the crime of an alter (as a lawyer) (cliffsnotes version bc I could go on for a long time about any of the prisoners)

Before I start, please dont take what I say as me agreeing with certain things or expressing a personal view on the crime itself. I’m strictly talking about how his case would be objectively viewed under the law, and i’m only doing it because I see everyone else’s opinions and i find the contrast interesting.

TW because I talk about murder (obviously) and bring in some examples to highlight principles with other crimes that might be offputting- im not accusing him of those or comparing the actual offenses, Im just highlighting different things with them. (robbery, felony murder, sex crime)

The basics/general applicable law

All crimes require 1) actus reus (physical criminal act) and 2) mens rea (guilty mind). One must commit the actual act proscribed by law, and must do so with the requisite intent, for them to be found guilty of an offense. Murder is broadly defined as the intentional killing of another.

Actus reus is pretty simple. Intentionally killing someone else. Intent to do the act that winds up killing someone else or intent to cause great bodily harm is sufficient. “I only meant to beat him up, not kill him” — the intent to beat him up is enough for murder.

The mens rea usually makes all the difference in charging and conviction. Thats why you could see someone who totally murdered someone else actually get manslaughter because you couldn’t prove willfulness or purposeful action, only recklessness or negligence, etc.

Defenses tend to target the mens rea. Self defense is acting under the reasonable belief youre in danger of death or GBI. imperfect self defense is when that belief is unreasonable (and will still get you with a manslaughter charge because its an incomplete defense).

Insanity is another technical defense but it is unimaginably difficult to succeed on it. Theres four tests for legal insanity under US law:

1- M’Naughten test- a defendant is deemed to be legally insane if he or she was unaware of what he or she was doing when the offense was committed or, even if the defendant knew what he or she was doing, that defendant was incapable of understanding that what they were doing was wrong. It also tends to require a sincerely held belief or delusion that the conduct was morally justified.

2- “Irresistible impulse” test- allows for a defendant to be found not guilty by reason of insanity if his or her mental illness meant that, although recognizing the wrongness of the offense, he or she was compelled to commit the offense anyway. The focus is on volition.

3- Durham rule (Only used in NH)- juries follow the diagnoses made by trained professionals in determining whether the accused is guilty. This test fell out of favor because it diminishes the jury’s role as finder of fact and places decision making in the hands of psychologists, who may- and often do- disagree among each other about the diagnoses at issue.

4- Model Penal Code (MPC) test- A little broader than M’Naughten. Psychiatrist diagnoses mental illness; The defendant must prove they lacked the substantial capacity to (1) understand the criminality of the conduct or (2) conform their conduct to the law. This test prohibits psychopaths and sociopaths from using the insanity defense.

The most commonly used tests are M’Naughten and MPC.

Mikoto satisfies actus reus for murder

When someone with DID commits a crime, it is their corporal form that commits that crime, ergo, under the law, that corporal form committed the actus reus, regardless of who was fronting at the time. While unfortunate, the offending alter is an inextricable part of that person’s physical and mental state of being, and as a matter of public policy, the law treats them as one as it relates to physical conduct.

Mikoto cannot satisfy the standard of self defense

To act in legal self defense, the defendant must actually and reasonably believe in the need to defend against an imminent threat of death or GBI. If the belief subjectively exists but is objectively unreasonable, there is “imperfect self-defense,” i.e., “the defendant is deemed to have acted without malice and cannot be convicted of murder,” but can be convicted of manslaughter. Self-defense “is limited to the use of such force as is reasonable under the circumstances.” Only force that is necessary to repel an attack may be used in self-defense, and force exceeding that necessity is not justified.

So view that as 1) reasonable belief 2) of imminent danger and GBI and 3) use of no greater force than reasonably necessary to defend against it.

Theres 0 evidence of it, but let’s assume the guy he smacked with the bat in MeMe hit Mikoto first. In that scene the victim appears entirely unarmed and has no gun, he’s flat on the ground, he’s not moving towards Mikoto. Mikoto walking towards him and beating him down with a bat is not self defense at that point even if he hit him first. It actually wouldnt be self defense even if the guy had a gun in his pocket and Mikoto knew that, because if the gun isnt out and in the dude’s hand, theres not IMMINENT threat under the law.

He fails on self defense.

Mikoto would not succeed on the insanity defense

Take the two most common tests for insanity, M’Naughten and MPC.

Mikoto fails M’Naughten because he did not act under a delusion. The alter is not itself a delusion. And absent any evidence to the contrary, Mikoto and John both appeared aware that the conduct was morally and legally wrong.

Mikoto fails the MPC because, again, it seems both he and John would know the criminality of murder and failed to conform their conduct to the law for a reason other than a delusion or lack of understanding.

I’ll add that in 100% of cases i’ve seen a successful lodging of the insanity defense, the defendant suffered a disorder that caused delusions and hallucinations. It’s still not even a guarantee but schizophrenia or hallucinatory disorders- most commonly where the defendant demonstrates violent hyperreligiosity outside of judeochristian norms- make it much easier to argue that you truly acted under a moral belief that you were behaving properly. For instance, a paranoid schizophrenic man who suffers delusions of demons surrounding his mother and hallucinates that she, too, is a demon, sent to kill him and everyone else, who he then kills because he believed he was saving the world, assuming he gets that diagnosis and has experts testify as to his mental state, is fairly likely to lodge a successful insanity defense… maybe.

DID doesnt fit the typical mold of disorders encompassed by the insanity defense because unless some other illness is present, both the alter and the host know that the conduct is criminal, they arent acting under a delusion, and they arent under a sincere belief that murder is moral and just. Mikoto would not be found legally insane.

Mikoto would be found to have the requisite Mens Rea because as a matter of public policy, the alter is treated as one with the host

Having negated any defenses, Mikoto is likely to be found guilty of murder as he would have the actus reus and mens rea necessary for a conviction. An inextricable part of the host did in fact intend to kill someone, or intended to commit the act that killed someone, or intended to cause great bodily harm, so theres someone here who undeniably satisfies the legal elements for murder, hiding within someone who had no clue.

The law views a guilty alter as a guilty host. The alter is inseparable from the host, they would not exist without the host, and they would not be punished without simultaneously punishing the host. And because John is guilty, Mikoto is guilty under the law. This means Mikoto must be punished as well. Even the rehabilitative approach to punishment for crimes, which I’d say is most defendant-friendly, would require the full and complete “removal” of the offending alter, which means punishing the host to some degree.

And the evaluation of it is ultimately left up to the jury, and I dont think there’d be a jury that acquits him. Mind you, juries inherently doubt both the victim and the defendant when they provide testimony if there’s no corroboration. Be it by physical evidence or an expert witness. With DID, it would be expert witness testimony that kind of makes or breaks it. Right now, viewing what we have as the evidence, we only have Mikoto’s words as evidence of his DID. Without an expert, there’s virtually 0 chance that the jury would accept it as true. And because of Mikoto’s shock, I don’t believe he’s diagnosed, so there’s no expert possibility there either (usually they do bring the diagnosing physician along with several others appointed by the court and both parties).

And juries have the power to simply ignore a defendant’s mental illness in most cases when coming to a decision, if that mental illness did not CAUSE the crime, but only contributed or maybe explains a mental state. but thats a complicated topic with a lot of moving parts. When it comes to most any evidence or testimony, a jury can disregard whatever they believe is incredible, insubstantial, unconvincing. They can rule out a defendant’s (or victim’s) entire testimony as untruthful, they’re allowed to ignore literally any experts that testify if they find them incredible, they’re allowed to cherrypick parts of someone’s testimony to believe or not. They actually have an insane amount of power, so because DID isnt insanity under the law, if even one expert says “No, he doesnt have DID,” they can ignore 2, 3, 4 other experts saying “This guy has DID for real” and conclude that he’s lying. There’s nuances here and there but this will generally hold true. When it’s not the insanity defense or some other way of establishing an element of a defense, mental illness or trauma only holds weight as a mitigating factor in sentencing. And even then, it’s only if you can still somehow try to connect it to the offense. But this is paradoxical, because there has to be a balance between using evidence of mental illness as mitigation and not offputting a jury, as bad as that sounds.

More than anything in some cases, jurors are driven by their sympathy for the parties. And here, a jury is unlikely to be sympathetic to Mikoto, and much more likely to sympathize with the victims’ grieving families. Usually, DID or any other mental illness only garners juror sympathy insofar as they feel bad for the trauma that gave rise to it. It’s like “i hate what you did but i also hate what happened to you that made you this way.” It wont get someone off, but it’ll likely lower their sentence. Perhaps dramatically if the original trauma is particularly gruesome. Juries are unpredictable, but one constant seems to be mercy in the face of objectively undeserved hardship. If what we have now is our entire wealth of evidence, there is a sincere lack of sympathetic material for the jury to draw from wrt why Mikoto fractured in the first place, and for that reason, it’s honestly a very likely scenario that they simply don’t believe he has it at all.

And I don’t want to start any arguments so please dont take this as me putting my opinion out, but there is a common belief among the public, which does not evade the potential jury pool, that people fake all sorts of mental illnesses to avoid accountability. So absent an expert to corroborate the existence of a mental illness and how it impacted your conduct, that belief also likely leaks in.

Again, I’m not presenting opinion, just trying to tell you all everything from where I’m standing to give you the whole picture. All of my colleagues and opposing counsel have discussed the relationship between “identity politics” and increased use of labels to describe oneself off the bat, and juror sympathy, because convincing a jury is almost like a game. You can have all the evidence you need to make an irrefutable case, but how its presented to the jury ultimately makes a significant difference in the outcome. From what I’m told, overreliance on a mental disorder that does not fall within the umbrella of insanity when testifying to describe your offense makes a jury less sympathetic and less likely to believe you. And oddly it seems that keeping self-description of the hardships caused by your mental illness to a minimum has the inverse effect of increasing credibility with the jury, likely because they see it as trying to accept some form of accountability.

I’ll give a few examples. My boss has had a case where a defendant brought up an entirely different mental disorder, not DID. I won’t give out what disorder it was, but it was one my boss described as becoming somewhat “trendy” in the earlier 2000s. No experts testified on the defendant’s behalf, but both the prosecutor and defense attorney did believe the defendant truly suffered from it. The jury did not, in part because it was “trendy” and also because there was no evidence other than the defendant’s word. Given his crime, they believed there was reason to lie about having it, and there was nothing for them to find mitigating because nothing other than his word suggested the mental illness exacerbated the crime. It wasnt even a disorder that wouldve gotten him off on an insanity defense, it was just one for mitigation of sentence, and it was completely rejected- he got something in the realm of 20 years. He succeeded on an appeal for reconsideration of it, and brought in a few experts, but the prosecution also brought in an expert, and the new jury believed the prosecution’s one expert more- who still said the defendant had this disorder, but just that it didn’t contribute to or negate from the commission of the offense. This was an aggravated rape case.

Another example, there was a defendant who kept her description of his mental illnesses extremely short, it had to be coaxed out during testimony. Honestly, he had a pretty shitty go of it from the sound of his childhood and testimony. In a surprise move after originally agreeing to the mental illnesses angle of defense, when he testified, he himself went against his own experts and said his mental illnesses did not make him do what he did, and defended himself in a different way. So his testimony on his mental illnesses mirrored the prosecution’s expert witnesses’ views, but he just tried to justify it another way. Why, I don’t know. But he acted ashamed of what happened to him and what he suffered from mentally and was very clearly uncomfortable discussing it at all. The jury ended up finding that the mental illnesses in fact did mitigate his offense. He had committed multiple murder.

I’m not saying its right or wrong, but juries have little sympathy for mental illnesses that hold no weight in the crime you committed. And if im honest, juries do not want to be there. They have jobs and families and lives, and i wouldnt be surprised if some animus comes in when a defendant puts up evidence of a mental illness or gives long testimony about it when the mental illness did not functionally contribute to the offense/has only a tenuous connection, because it just means the jury has to be there longer. I dont know for sure, but ive seen them get irritated over the prosecution putting up more evidence than they need to, even though thats kind of the whole point- guilty beyond a reasonable doubt, and all the evidence eliminates any doubt. So in the same way, introducing repetitive testimony about a mental illness that doesn’t negate any element of the crime could also be seen as a waste of time to them because it doesnt actually modify the verdict itself.

So the odds are stacked against Mikoto under US law at least. Based on what we have, his DID does not negate mens rea.

I’d like to briefly just discuss the public policy goal behind this, as courts have viewed it and explained. There are five main goals of criminal law- retribution (ensuring consequences are dealt), deterrence (discouraging defendant and other similarly situated people from committing this offense), incapacitation (keeping the defendant away from the public and ensuring they cannot hurt anyone further), rehabilitation (reforming the defendant for safe reentry into society), and restoration (providing the victim or their family with restitution for the specific offense committed, attempting to remedy their harm). Sentences are catered to meet these goals as they relate to different offenses. Taken together, the biggest theme is to give justice to the specific victim, and make sure it doesnt happen to anyone else.

You cant force an alter to front or control their decision to front, so there’s no way to truly tell if that alter will front and do it again if the same stressors causing the front arise, even if you put the host in therapy. Because its not like a bit of therapy will make the DID go poof, I’m gone now, it’s a long and intense process that takes years because you have to target that incredible amount of trauma that comes with the formation of the alter in the first place. There’s concerns on the other end about how therapy to cure or get rid of DID is harmful to the host or simply impossible, and if that’s so, then clearly putting the host in therapy will do nothing to protect the public or bring justice to the victims.

Ultimately, the law prioritizes the rights of the victim and the potential for recidivism. Although it was an alter and not the host, the alter cant be punished without also punishing the host. So being left with the option of letting the host walk free with no relief to the victim because the murdering alter is also free, or imprisoning the host for the sake of imprisoning the alter, which is the proper choice? There is no “fair” option. But where there is no guarantee that this will not happen again, it is in the interest of avoiding recidivism and preserving public safety to isolate and imprison the host so the alter can be addressed.

There’s no direct example, but its kind of like if you took conjoined twins, and one commits a murder while the other had no control over the body parts used to murder that person, didn’t want to, and didn’t plan it or conspire to do it. There’s one conscious being that committed a murder, and imprisoning them means we must imprison the other conscious being of the same body who had no part in it or control over it. Is it more justiciable to let them go, knowing that the other twin may offend again and that the innocent twin cannot control the body enough to stop it? Or do we imprison them both, knowing one of them is innocent?

Likewise, how do we ensure deterrence, justice, rehabilitation, restoration, or incapacitation in the case of an alter committing murder?

The short answer is we really can’t without simultaneously imprisoning the host.

So under the law, he satisfies the actus reus, and he satisfies the mens rea. I’d think there’d be some mitigation because he seemed to genuinely not know, but you never know with a jury (which is why I think it’s wise to submit the factfinding for factors in aggravation/mitigation to the judge instead of a jury but that would be waiving your right to a jury trial on those matters). For these reasons, he’d be imprisoned notwithstanding whether an alter committed the offense.

[sillyletterscomposingsillywords]

What do we know about Pétion’s wife? 😯

Sorry for the month delay, anon.

Firstly, I will let her speak for herself.

Vatel T.3 pp.780–782:

Committee of General Security Interrogation of сitizen Lefevre, wife of Pétion, on the fourth of August 1793, year II of the Republic, one and indivisible. Q: When did you arrive in Caen and for how long did you stay there? A: For four or five days, I arrived on 26th or 24th. Q: During your stay in Caen, have you seen that girl Corday? A: No. Q: Have you heard what was said there about her crime? A: Yes. Q: What was the general opinion on it in Caen? A: People were content. Q: Can you name people who were content and did you share their admiration? A: I don't know the names, the opinion was general. What's for mine, it's mine, and I'm not obliged to share it. Q: When the news about Marat's assassination reached Caen, were the fugitives still there? A: I know nothing about it. Q: Do you know if the letter written by the girl Corday to Barbaroux was delivered to him? A: I have no idea. Q: Was the letter talked about in Caen? A: I have no idea. Q: Do you know about any relations between Corday and fugitives, your husband in particular, before their departure from Caen? A: No. Q: I observe that if you had been in Caen when the news about Marat's assassination reached it, you would have been there with your husband and other fugitives. What motive makes you hid it from us? A: I don't have any. ................................................. Q: Where did you stay in Caen? A: In Hôtel d'Angleterre, rue Saint-Jean, according to the testimony of a ten years old boy. Q: Who have you seen in Évreux? A: Madame Vallé and madame [mother of] Barbaroux. Q: Have you seen the wifes of the deputies? A: No. Q: Who have you seen in Caen? A: None. Q: Before your husband's departure did you know about Sicion (sic) plans against the majority of the Convention? A: No. Q: Who you used to see most often in Paris? A: Almost all proscribed, because, as a wife, I received the guests of my husband. Q: The proscribed you are talking about, were they gathering on certain days and hours? A: I don't know their motives. They had several meetings, but I was not admitted to them. Written in the said Committee, signed in confirmation of the answers Lefevre, femme Pétion.

Note: If you still have doubts, madame Pétion hasn't been in Caen.

Louise-Anne-Suzanne Le Fèvre (or Lefevre) was born in Chartres (as well as Pétion) in 1760 or 1759.

She was 4'11'' (about 150 cm) tall, had brown hair and eyes, a long face with a long chin and a nose described as big.

She was arrested and put in prison (Sainte-Pélangie) on 9th August 1793 together with her ten years old son Louis-Étienne-Gérôme (1782–1847, Vatel), transfered to Port-Libre (la Bourbe) on 8th Vendémiaire. Since 14th Vendémiaire was in hospitals (due to her sons health problems). Release oreder was signed on 19th Brumaire (Vatel mixes dates here and writes Frimaire), she was free on the same day.

Pétion must have known her fate, because Buzot did (Memoires, J. Guadet version, p.188), most likely from Madame Roland.

From Vatel T.2 p.278

She received an annual pension of 2,000 francs (Vatel T.2 p.271).

Louise-Anne died in 1823 or 1824. She retained an oil on canvas portrait of her husband (I don't know which one), his writings, including his description of travel to England (Vatel T.3 p.513).

Her handwriting:

Source

[atreyucannamos]

XI: Carnelian

5016u FIVE DAYS AGO

LEAF: Rawan, I need to ask a favor.

SAXIFRAGE: why hello lord cannamos

SAXIFRAGE: ask and perhaps ye shall receive

LEAF: I need paint in Ungrateful colors; enough to repaint Assembler.

SAXIFRAGE: for the cadenze

LEAF: Yes.

SAXIFRAGE: done

SAXIFRAGE: itll be delivered within the hour

LEAF: Wait, what? It was that easy?

LEAF: Did you just have it lying around?

SAXIFRAGE: ill be answering no further questions at this time

5016u TWELVE HOURS AGO MORNING OF THE CADENZE DE L' PAVILLOS

The guantlet had been thrown down.

When Dean-Commander Hebriyah saw Assembler, she looked like her teeth might shatter from the sheer force of the grinding. The Archchancellor had tightened her lips and heaved an exasperated sigh. Stablemaster Imani had read the room in the blink of an eye, and invented a sudden excuse to leave it. Lord Castor-Eyros was desperately trying to stifle his laughter. Underbaron Iphiannassa had fixed Atreyu with a stare that could cut through a bulkhead, and then raised a single eyebrow.

The Dean-Commander, the Archchancellor and the Underbaron went over every inch of it with a fine-tooth comb. Every petal of every flower in every wreath was examined for blight. The paintjob was checked and double-checked - had it been properly waxed? Was there inconsistency in the linework? Were there scratches? Every single element of the heraldry on the tabard, banners and streamers was scrutinized extensively, checked against a list of proscribed symbols.

Eventually, after three full hours, the Dean-Commaner was forced to admit - through gritted teeth, her eye twitching violently - that everything was in order. Atreyu had "somehow" managed to conform to every single regulation in the book; though their livery was certainly "unconventional, audacious... some might even say controversial," it violated no statute the College currently had on the books.

"Perhaps we shall draft a new one, and name it after you," the Underbaron had said, with a tone dryer than the Blanca Desert.

They all turned to Lord Castor-Eyros, who had spent the time grading papers. He looked up, eyes innocent, as if he had no idea what he'd been asked.

"Well, it's clearly a striking artistic statement that had senior members of the faculty examining its intricacies and implications for hours. Excellent juxtaposition of symbology; the use of yellow carnations around your house's canton-sigil was particularly provocative. Don't think I missed the gemstones in the broach, either; carnelian and fire agate - how daring! I agree with my erstwhile colleague the Underbaron - we should put this one in the books, as a prime example of how a Kavalier speaks without words. Good work, Lord Cannamos! Top marks. You've clearly been paying attention."

"It's an insult, is what it is," growled the Dean, finally losing her compsure. "An intentional provocation! Disrespecting the spirit of this institution's statutes by malicious compliance with their letter!"

"My dear Doleros," Castor drawled, returning to his grading, "I already said I loved it. You don't need to keep recommending it to me."

Atreyu was certain: whatever problems this might cause down the line, it was all worth it, purely for the noise that the Dean made in response.

5016u NOW NIGHT OF THE CADENZE DE L' PAVILLOS

Soundtrack: One Hour of Waltzes

The Reis twins were entertained - finally.

Everyone made the same assumption about the Primors Valentine and Vivian: social butterflies from the House of Glass, in their element at the center of a crowd - of course they'd love banquets and balls! Wrong. Dead wrong. Banquets and balls were so rote! Proceedural! As Valentine - or perhaps Vivian - said, "once you see two fashion victims stumble about to drab music, you've seen them all."

What they loved was drama! Intrigue! Passions rising, egos clashing, schemes colliding, sparks flying, rapiers drawn, fireworks and fallout! Banquets and balls were only as good as the drama they could produce. The Matriculation Ball had been soul-crushing until the latecomers had blundred in and injected some life into the proceedings. The storied veteran trying and failing to take responsibility on her shoulders? Delicious. Two animal-themed full-body augments upstaging one another? Sumptuous. The scion of House Delamar feuding with the scion of House Frostfounder over the fate of an ignoble? Delectable. And last but by no means least, the least favourite child of House Cannamos getting into a spat with their cousin? Ambrosial.

The Candenze de l' Pavillos had threatened to be another unstirred pot. It was all interminable speeches, droning music and gaudy, blundering oafs - with the preening lackwits that piloted them. Once again, however, the latecomers - or the Lunar Falcons, as they called themselves now - had saved the evening.

Atreyu, clearly flush with confidence after their recent triumphs, had turned every head in the College with their positively scandalous livery.

"Why, look," Valentine - or perhaps Vivian - remarked, gently tapping their twin's shoulder and pointing towards the young Cannamos' kuirass. "Yellow carnations around the canton-sigil!"

"Shocking," Vivian - or perhaps Valentine - exclaimed, feigning outrage. "And do you see? Three black stripes over burgundy! My, my, but our Lord Cannamos isn't so much sending a message as screaming it from the rooftops!"

Lady Persephone Helsing has arrived next, purposefully placing her brand new Viceroy right next to Argo-Laurent's Atlas.

"They say size isn't everything, dear sibling," one of the twins quipped, tilting their head, "but I have to say, neither is it nothing."

"It's true," replied the other, "it does produce a certain effect."

"Casts a certain aspersion," suggested the first.

"Shade in the desert," ventured the second.

"Shade on the desert," dared the former.

"A dark cloud," mused the latter.

"A pall of smoke," their companion murmured.

"Quite the impression," concluded Valentine, or perhaps it was Vivian.

"Quite the impression," conceded Vivian, though it might've been Valentine.

Tuera, they realised, had been there all along - they had not noticed her arrive.

"Unlike us, to miss such a thing." The sibling placed a finger and thumb to their chin, as if chasing a thought.

"Quite unlike us." The other sibling mirrored the motion with the opposite hand, though perhaps they entertained a different thought - or none at all.

"Though she does rather sneak up on you, that one."

"Can't figure her out. And I do consider myself quite good at that."

"Figuring people out?"

"Among other things."

"Do you perhaps suppose she has us figured out?"

"Do I perhaps? Why, what's there to figure out?"

The addressed sibling smirked. "What, indeed."

Praya's looming colossus arrived next, staking its claim in a space that was markedly removed from Count Argo's. She leapt down from her cockpit, glaring about at the assembled dancers. Though a considerable amount of makeup hid it, the twins' sharp eyes could make out the telltale signs of a black eye.

The one standing nearer sucked in a sharp breath through their teeth. "So, she took the erstwhile El-Ahrairah's advice, then."

From their vantage slightly further away, the other tilted their head. "Oh yes! She attempted to apologise to Ms. Azar."

"Attempted carries implications, dear sibling."

"It most certainly does, sibling mine."

"Are we then to conclude Lady Ironhand's ego got in the way?"

"Were I a rake for gambling, I should never bet against our erstwhile Lord Praya's ego providing impediment."

"Alas the day."

"Alas the day," repeated the other twin, taking a sip of their drink - or perhaps it was their sibling's. "But it was good of her to try."

"It was proper, given the circumstances."

"Credit to her, though, she took the blow without retort, walked away with her head held high, and didn't snitch."

Their sibling hissed. "Hate a snitch."

"Despise a snitch," growled the other.

Praya shot both of them a glare, as if she knew precisely what they were talking about. Both of them hurriedly averted their eyes.

"Perhaps we'd best light upon a different topic," the first whispered.

The second nodded curtly. "Perhaps we'd best."

Delamar and Caelan arrived just afterwards, mechs arm in arm.

One of the twins glanced up and whistled. "Chemistry between those two, do you think, V?"

"Chemistry most certainly, V." The one who'd been addressed lifted a glass - even chances it was the one that belonged to them - and took a swig. "But what manner of chemistry?"

"I've had it on good authority they've shared a room."

Their companion touched a hand to their breastbone, eyes wide. "Never."

"Shared a bed."

Their companion gasped, hand flying to their mouth. "Shocking!" They paused for a moment. "Which one was on top?"

"Tragically, my sources fail us on this matter," their mirror image replied, shrugging and simply taking the glass from their twin's hand.

"Well that's no fun," pouted the robbed twin, who simply picked up the other glass. "My money's on the wolf."

"Oh? I would've said the Sandman. The wolf is compensating far too much. And over far too many things."

"The Sandman chose as his manservant a tireless machine in the image of a gorgeous man twice his size with three times his muscle mass. Please, dear sibling, face the facts."

"You do make a compelling point," conceded the other.

The Lunar Falcons convened briefly, exchanging a few words, before spreading out through the grounds and to various conversation partners.

"Ah, do you see? Caelan is attempting to impress the most esteemed Marquess Fontague. What shall we call this?"

"Wolf, drinking Shrimp Cocktail. Now, what do you make of Delamar's wooing of the rich and beautiful Lady Carlotta?"

The reply came with a sly grin. "Two nobles of Sand danced together. Three hundred dead, sixteen hundred injured."

Rawan had already met up with Kay by the time Atreyu arrived, and so they had the unenviable task of impressing two people at once. To their credit, they seemed to strike upon some subject that enthused Kay, and the striking appearance of their mech seemed to earn Rawan's approval as well.

As one sibling took a drink, the other gestured to the trio. "Our beloved underdog doesn't do anything by half measures, do they?"

Finishing their drink and setting the glass down, their companion glanced over. "Something to prove?"

"Oh yes," their twin replied, setting their own empty glass down. "Our Prince must actually conquer those Thousand Kingdoms, no? Else how do they silence their detractors?"

"Is that what it translates to? I had always thought it meant Prince With A Thousand-"

The thought was interrupted as Tuera and Persephone wandered over. The twins, to their credit, refocused their attention almost immediately, giving no outward indication that the pair had caught them by surprise.

"Why, Ladies Tuera and Persephone, welcome," said one, whom Persephone thought might be Valentine.

"Welcome, Ladies Ashama and Helsing," said the other, whom Tuera was pretty sure was Valentine.

"Hey," Tuera grunted, narrowing her eyes.

Persephone waved, several of her tails twitching excitedly. "Hello! I hope you're having a good evening!"

The one Tuera suspected wasn't Vivian smiled. "Oh, now that you've arrived, most certainly."

"You and your companions have quite failed to be boring," elaborated the twin Persephone knew not to be Vivivan.

"Glad we could be... entertaining, then," Tuera growled, plucking a glass from a masked servant's tray and taking a sip. "I take it you've been keeping an eye on the crowd, then?"

"Oh yes," exclaimed one of the twins, who Persephone felt sure had switched with their sibling when she wasn't looking. "You mustn't let this sort of crowd go unobserved. The things you'd miss. The intrigue. The gossip. The drama."

"The daggers hidden behind smiles," their equal and opposite added, with a disconcerting leer. "The aside glances. The false airs. The scheming."

Tuera folded her arms. "Well you're clearly just dying to tell us. Don't keep it all for yourselves. Share with the class."

The twins turned to one another in perfect unison.

"Are we so very obvious?"

"Oh, she's read us like a book."

"Very well. Firstly, if you incline your head towards our erstwhile Praya..."

The conversation proceeded in this same manner for a while, with the twins relaying all that they'd observed: Praya's ill-fated apology to Rawan, Argo's estrangement from his fiancé, Caelan's daring play for Fontague's respect, Delamar's eye-catching dance with his fellow Housewoman.

As conversation turned to the subject of Atreyu, however, the four students happened to turn to look at them - and found that they had begun dancing with Rawan, and that at the exact moment they'd looked over, Rawan had dipped Atreyu low and was kissing them fiercely.

"O-oh my," mumbled Persephone.

"Well I'll be damned," whispered Tuera.

Both twins turned to one another.

"Oh. Finally."

"Talk about striking while the iron is cold, dusty and put away."

"But at least she struck, Valentine."

"That she did, Vivian."

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Ray Nayler’s “Where the Axe Is Buried”

I'm on a 20+ city book tour for my new novel PICKS AND SHOVELS. Catch me in SAN DIEGO at MYSTERIOUS GALAXY next MONDAY (Mar 24), and in CHICAGO with PETER SAGAL on Apr 2. More tour dates here.

Ray Nayler's Where the Axe Is Buried is an intense, claustrophobic novel of a world run by "rational" AIs that purport to solve all of our squishy political problems with empirical, neutral mathematics:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9780374615369/wheretheaxeisburied/

In Naylor's world, we there are two blocs. "The west," where the heads of state have been replaced with chatbots called "PMs." These PMs propose policy to tame, rubberstamp legislatures, creating jobs programs, setting monetary and environmental policies, and ruling on other tricky areas where it's nearly impossible to make everyone happy. These countries are said to be "rationalized," and they are peaceful and moderately prosperous, and have finally tackled the seemingly intractable problems of decarbonization, extreme poverty, and political instability.

In "the Republic" – a thinly veiled version of Russia – the state is ruled by an immortal tyrant who periodically has his consciousness decanted into a blank body after his own body falls apart. The state maintains the fiction that each president is a new person, manufacturing families, friends, teachers and political comrades who can attest to the new president's long history in the country. People in the Republic pretend to believe this story, but in practice, everyone knows that it's the same mind running the country, albeit sometimes with ill-advised modifications, such as an overclocking module that runs the president's mind at triple human speeds.

The Republic is a totalitarian nightmare of ubiquitous surveillance and social control, in which every movement and word is monitored, and where social credit scores are adjusted continuously to reflect the political compliance of each citizen. Low social credit scores mean fewer rations, a proscribed circle of places you can go, reduced access to medical care, and social exclusion. The Republic has crushed every popular uprising, acting on the key realization that the only way to cling to power is to refuse to yield it, even (especially) if that means murdering every single person who takes part in a street demonstration against the government.

By contrast, the western states with their chatbot PMs are more open – at least superficially. However, the "rationalized" systems use less obvious – but no less inescapable – soft forms of control that limit the social mobility, career chances, and moment-to-moment and day-to-day lives of the people who live there. As one character who ventures from the Republic to London notes, it is a strange relief to be continuously monitored by cameras there to keep you safe and figure out how to manipulate you into buying things, rather than being continuously monitored by cameras seeking a way to punish you.

The tale opens on the eve of the collapse of these two systems, as the current president of the Republic's body starts to reject the neural connectome that was implanted into its vat-grown brain, even as the world's PMs start to sabotage their states, triggering massive civil unrest that brings the west to its knees, one country after another.

This is the backdrop for a birchpunk† tale of AI skulduggery, lethal robot insects, radical literature, swamp-traversing mechas, and political intrigue that flits around a giant cast of characters, creating a dizzying, in-the-round tour of Nayler's paranoid world

† Russian-inflected cyberpunk with Baba Yaga motifs and nihilistic Russian novel vibes

And what a paranoid world it is! Nayler's world shows two different versions of Oracle boss (and would-be Tiktok owner) Larry Ellison, who keeps pumping his vision of an AI-driven surveillance state where everyone is continuously observed, recorded and judged by AIs so we are all on our "best behavior":

https://fortune.com/2024/09/17/oracle-larry-ellison-surveillance-state-police-ai/

This batshit idea from one of tech's worst billionaires is a perfect foil for a work of first-rate science fiction like Where the Axe Is Buried, which provides an emotional flythrough of how such a world would obliterate the authentic self, authentic relationships, and human happiness.

Where the Axe Is Buried conjures up that world beautifully, really capturing the deadly hopelessness of a life where the order is fixed for all eternity, thanks to the flawless execution of perfect, machine-generated power plays. But Axe shows how the embers of hope smolder long after they should have been extinguished, and how they are always ready to be kindled into a roaring, system-consuming wildfire.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/03/birchpunk/#cyberspace-is-everting

[possiblyunhinged]

In the wake of the news that MPs have voted to proscribe Palestine Action as a terrorist organisation… I just… The MPs who voted for that are fucking scum. I don’t even know how else to put it.

Over the past few months, I have felt more hopeless, angry, and devastated than ever. I’m navigating the world like an exposed nerve ending—one slight touch and I’ll crumble. I cannot reason with the cruelty of the Labour government. We’ve come to expect it from the Tories—a party with a long history of attacking the most vulnerable and supporting mass death, like the Bengal famine and the Irish famine. But Labour—born from socialist workers’ parties—has simply become a centre-right party under Keir Starmer, pissing on the legacy of the NHS, maternity leave, workers' rights, and the minimum wage.

Even MPs who do care—like Nadia Whittome—are powerless when disabled people and working-class families are thrown under the bus by Rachel Reeves. They consulted more people on non-dom tax status than they did on PIP reform. They wanted to push PIP reform through before they even understood its true impact.

The goal is that we stagnate. That we stop fighting. That we slip into apathy. And I don’t want to do that. The fact that so many leftists are fucking fuming right now—that’s what we should hold onto.

I’m scared we’re just choosing to regress. I’m seeing people my age actively give up and run back to the Disney films and shite alt rock bands they grew up with. And with Palestine Action now criminalised—this isn’t the time to shut up or numb out. The consequences are too large. And honestly, I don’t want to be a fucking coward.

That’s why the Bob Vylan stuff stings, especially for those of us where music is the lifeforce that pushes us forward—not a tool of avoidance. How can anyone be surprised? The scene is built on cowardice. It’s desperate to keep things safe. We don’t need another reunion tour. We need to grow a fucking spine—and get behind artists who clearly fucking braver than our own Prime Minister.

So I just want to say, on my silly little blog: don’t stop looking forward. Don’t stop moving. Reach out to people who feel the same as you do. Breathe. Organise. Organise. Organise. Embrace being a ‘joykill.’ And when you can safely challenge these people—do. We’re in this fucking shit sandwich together.

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Blue and Fire Engine Red, Pt 7

The day of Hector’s game day party comes before Kara knows it. Lena drives them both in the dusty pick up, blasting N*SYNC with the windows down. Kara is more than happy to sing along– Lena’s unabashed enjoyment revives Kara’s memories of her teenage years, and the afternoons she’d spent with Kenny with N*SYNC playing on the radio. These days, Kara can acknowledge that they may not be objectively good, but they’re fun.

At Hector’s they and Kara’s seven layer dip are received with a warm, enthusiastic welcome. Kara’s handshake is ignored by Jess and Cecilia both, who greet her with the same hugs they offer Lena. 

“Congratulations on the college admission!” Kara lauds Jess, her smile genuine.

“Yeah,” Lena chimes in, bumping Jess with her shoulder. “You should have told us at the bar, you fink.”

Jess remains utterly unapologetic. “I could see you had more important matters on your mind,” she quips, giving Kara a pointed look and earning a round of laughter.

After that, Kara is swept up in a flurry of introductions, not just of Hector’s friends, but Lena’s coworkers as well.

“Hi Nia,” she greets readily at the sight of the younger woman, who grins at her.

“Fancy seeing you here, Sergeant,” Nia chirps as blithe as Jess. “Enjoying your time so far?”

Kara blinks in confusion. “We just got here…?” She shoots a look at Lena, who rolls her eyes. 

“She means with me,” Lena tells her. Kara’s jaw gapes a little, shocked enough that words don’t immediately pop out. Lena doesn’t give her long anyway. “Wanna beer?”

“Uh… sure?”

Lena nods. “I got it.” She gives Nia a sharp look. “Be nice.”

With that, Lena saunters off, leaving Kara to the wolves. Kara turns back to Nia, whose grin remains in place. “Hi,” Kara tries again.

“Sergeant Danvers!”

A new voice booms behind her, making Kara jump. She turns to find Brainy studiously regarding her.

“You are precisely on time,” he clips.

Kara nods solemnly. “Entirely Lena’s fault.”

Nia groans. “Querl, what are you talking about? They just showed up!” She waves a hand between them. “We were on time.”

“Miss Nal, surely you are aware of the social moray that dictates the perfect time to arrive at a gathering is no less than fifteen minutes past the proscribed start time. By such expectations, the Lieutenant and the Sergeant arrived right on time.”

“And we were…?” 

“Early, of course.”

Nia throws up her hands. “You were the one who insisted we show up at two!”

“But of course!” Brainy responds, clasping his hands behind his back. “As another custom states: to be early is to be on time.”

With a groan, Nia turns back to Kara. “You see what I have to work with?” In the end, she thrusts out her hand. “Nia Nal. Nice to properly meet you.”

Kara takes her hand with a grin. “Kara Danvers. Likewise.”

At that moment, Lena reappears. She hands over a bottle of Samuel Adams, but Kara notices that she’s claimed a can of rootbeer for herself. Her brow furrows at the sight of it. She sees that Nia also holds a soda, along with a few other firefighters dotted throughout the room. 

“On call?” she surmises. 

Lena nods, cracking open the can and sipping the fizz that bubbles over. The way she looks sheepishly at Kara over the edge of the can is entirely ungraceful, but Kara thinks she might be in love with this woman. 

“Smooth,” is all she says, earning a wink in return.

Lena tilts her head towards the living room. “Game’s on, if you’re interested.” 

Kara smirks. “What game?”

“Exactly!” Nia exclaims. “I’m just here for the food. And the company,” she amends quickly. “Gonzales is great. I like him.”

Lena shrugs. “You’re not the only one,” she says, even as a round of raucous laughter fills the house. A large group has gathered around Hector, clearly enjoying whatever story he’s telling. 

“How long have you known him?” Nia asks casually. Kara expects Lena to deflect, but instead she gamely takes a swig of her root beer. 

“Served two tours.”

Nia nods. “Cool, cool.”

As if it’s not more information about Lena’s service than she’s ever told Kara. But then again, she hasn’t exactly asked. She’d resolved to let Lena drive the pace of that conversation, but… maybe she could turn the key in the ignition.

Conversation continues, moving on to other subjects. Kara listens contentedly, and is all too happy to move to the couch when Hector eventually waves them over. He and Lena exchange their special handshake, but Kara keeps hers simple.

“Hi,” she says. “Thanks for the invite.”

“Yeah, my pleasure! I’m glad you all could make it–”

All of a sudden, something in Lena’s pocket starts to buzz, loud and insistent. She’s not the only one who reaches for their phone though– everyone Kara recognizes from Station 13 fishes out their device to glance at their screens.

A call out.

“I guess we’re leaving,” Kara says wryly.

Hector gapes dejectedly. “Man, you just got here!”

“Why don’t you stay?” Lena suggests to Kara as she rises. “I can ride to the station with Nia and Brainy. You can take my truck.”

Kara hesitates. “Really?”

Lena nods, leaning in to give Kara a kiss. “Here,” she says, pressing her keys into Kara’s hand. “Why don’t you go back to mine? I’ll meet you there when we’re done.”

A pleased thrum buzzes through Kara. She’s never been given a key to a partner’s home, even temporarily. Yet here Lena is, for all her secrets, inviting Kara to wait unaccompanied in her apartment. 

“There’s beer in the fridge,” Lena offers teasingly, sweetening the deal.

Kara grins, accepting the keys with another kiss. “Yeah. Go save the day.”

“Yes, ma’am!” Nia calls. “Come on, LT! Got a warehouse fire with your name on it!” 

LEna mutters something unintelligible under her breath, making Kara laugh. Once the door closes behind the departing crew, very few people remain, and none who Kara knows beyond brief introductions. So she remains where she is, studying her beer can as she considers how long to remain out of politeness. But then she senses eyes upon her, and she glances up to find Hector in his wheelchair across the coffee table, studying her with a closely guarded expression.

Kara doesn’t look away. She knows she’s being measured, by someone who respects and adores Lena. Though Lena has yet to show she values Hector in quite the same way, Kara knows his opinion of her will matter. In the end, Hector tilts his head towards the back door.

“Care to get some air, Sergeant?”

Nodding, Kara accepts the invitation readily, as much to make a good impression as to escape a room full of people she doesn’t know. She slides open the door for the both of them, allowing Hector to roll through first before stepping out after him. Outside, it’s pleasant but almost uncomfortably bright in the afternoon sun, so they have the low deck to themselves, the air still smelling faintly of grilled meat.

Kara takes a seat in one of the plastic lawn chairs, closing her eyes against the glaring sun.

“She trusts you.”

Hector’s statement comes with no judgement. When Kara opens her eyes, squinting at her host, his gaze is still taking stock of her. “Yeah?” she asks.

Hector nods.

“It’s kinda hard to tell,” Kara admits. “I mean, it seems she’s having a good time, but I don’t quite have a full read on her yet. But,” she allows, “it’s still early.”

“The only real thing you gotta know about the Sarge is that once she makes a connection, she’s with you to the end. She may not share herself with people, but she cares about them. Too much, sometimes.”

He rubs his palms against his thighs. Kara’s eyes follow the motion, and Hector notices her attention as though expecting it. “Complete SCI of the L1 vertebrae,” he explains. His voice deepens, devoid of his usual enthusiasm. “We were on a convoy when our vehicle hit an IED. Whole thing overturned. Sarge and I are the only ones who made it out.”

Jesus. Kara doesn’t dare say anything, knowing any words she could offer would be hollow in the face of such an experience.

“We were all trapped under the cargo bed, and the cab had caught fire. It was all starting to burn around us. And the Sarge… she wasn’t pinned. She wasn’t pinned. She could have gotten out. She should have. But she didn’t. She had one hand in my guts and held Reggie’s hand with the other.

“I’m here, she kept saying. I’m here.”

Hector looks down at his lap, scowling inwardly. 

“On the shows and everything, the doctors always promise that it’s all going to be okay. That they’ll save their patient, no matter what. But Sarge didn’t do that. I’m here. That’s all she said. And she was. When Reggie stopped breathing, she was there. She was there when they fished me out. They got me out of there fast, but Sarge helped haul out the others. She– she wanted more than strangers there. We were hers. And she was there when I got out of surgery. She’s the one who told me about the rest.”

An image flashes across Kara’s mind. The previous weekend, she’d seen a dark smudge on Lena’s ribs– later that night, as Lena slept, Kara had seen that the smudge was a tattoo. A series of tallies, stacked in groups of tens. She’d counted thirteen tallies, and in this moment, Kara knows exactly what Lena’s been tracking. 

Unaware of Kara’s revelation, Hector continues with a shake of his head. 

“And she’s still taking care of us.” When he notices Kara’s confusion, he continues. “My folks can’t afford to put Jess through school, and my GI benefits don’t apply to siblings. But wouldn’t you know it, Jess got a full ride from a private donor.” He sighs. “I don’t know how she did it, but she did.”

Kara considers that, remembering the way Lena had seemed genuinely surprised by Hector’s good news. She can’t say even now whether she’d be able to spot the act, but the deception doesn’t feel malicious. She doesn’t know if Lena has a malicious bone in her body.

Then again, she could be blinded by the new relationship glow. What does she truly know about Lena anyway?

“Has she ever talked about her family?” Kara asks. Hector glances at her, prompting her to clarify. “I’m not looking for details. I just… I want to know if it’s something she might share, with the right person.”

At that, Hector softens. “None of us ever heard her talk about her family, her home, or anything from her past. Not even which coast she’s from. I know she got razzed for it at first, but in the end… it didn’t matter. It wasn’t her past that held me together, and it wasn’t the last thing Reggie saw. It was just the Sarge, and who she was in that moment. Who she still is.”

At that, Kara nods. That much, Kara’s already seen for herself. Both at the scene where they first met, where she’d hauled a young mother from an inferno, and the previous weekend with Lydia at the farmer’s market. She’d seen the way Lena’s reflex was to help, as innate as the ability to breathe. Not everyone has that– most people need to think, to make the conscious decision to run towards danger. 

Not Lena.

“I’m not telling you any of this so you’ll treat her with kid gloves or anything,” Hector says. “Sarge can take care of herself. But like I said– she trusts you. I just want you to know just how special that is.” 

He smiles thinly. 

“She’ll treat you good, if you let her.”

—

Kara opts to pick up a crate of seltzer on her way to Lena’s after saying goodbye to Hector and his family. Despite the offer of free beer, she wants a clear head tonight. Thoughts swirl in her head as she lets herself into the spartan apartment, and settles on the couch to anxiously wait. She can keep her new knowledge to herself, and a strong part of herself wants to. It feels illicit, to know something about Lena that she didn’t share herself. And what Lena doesn’t know wouldn’t hurt her, right?

But when the door opens a crack, a few hours later, Lena’s voice makes the decision for her.

“Kara?”

Kara’s brow furrows. Lena had been the one to invite her to wait, but now she sounds like she’s wound tight as a spring, on the verge of fight or flight. As though she doesn’t know what to expect.

Twisting on the couch to face the door, Kara smiles. “Present and accounted for!”

The playful response does the trick. The crack widens fully, and Lena pushes in with a wide grin and two pizza boxes stacked in her right hand. Kara also spots a two liter bottle of Pepsi under one arm. She’s most relieved for Lena’s smile, though, which assures her that the callout hadn’t suffered any casualties.

“Did Gonzales take good care of you?” Lena asks, kicking the door shut. She detours to the kitchen, bustling to retrieve plates and cups to dish up.

Kara smirks, rising to assist. “I don’t think Cecilia or Jess would allow anything less.”

A bark of laughter answers her. “Ain’t that the truth.”

Lena flips up the lids of the pizza boxes, revealing a pepperoni and a cheese. She hands Kara a plate, letting her snag whatever slices she wants. Kara does, and fidgets with the edge of a partial pepperoni as she watches Lena slide two of each on her plate before lifting a messy slice to her mouth. An ooze of cheese slides precariously, and Lena tilts her head back to receive it.

When she catches KAra staring, the grin she gives is wide and beaming. “It’s on my chin, isn’t it?”

Well, it is, but it’s not why Kara is staring. She gathers her courage as she watches Lena fetch a paper towel to smear the grease off her chin.

“Hector told me some things, about the convoy.”

Kara’s voice is low, careful. Lena’s movements stutter to a stop, her entire body stiffening as the mood instantly freezes. 

“He had no right to tell you anything about that,” Lena says, her voice rigid.

“It’s his story too, Lena,” Kara returns gently. She allows her shredded piece of pepperoni fall to the plate. “And he didn’t give me many details. Just that you were there, and that you did what you could. That you saved his life.”

She does her best to hold Lena’s gaze, but Lena doesn’t let her. Her pizza lies forgotten on her plate, all the mirth from gooey cheese having evaporated into the ether. Kara studies the tight line of Lena’s lips, all but scowling as she wipes her fingers roughly with a paper towel. It’s the first time she’s seen Lena with anything less than a smile.

Part of her cherishes it, because it’s a new side of Lena she hasn’t experienced yet, but a small seed of dread takes root in her stomach, that this might be the last she sees of Lena at all.

“Lena…”

“Don’t.” Lena finally glares at her. “Don’t say anything.”

But Kara isn’t ready to let it go, despite the precipice she senses beneath her feet. 

“I’ve noticed your tattoo,” Kara says softly. Lena scoffs.

“Really? Wow. You’re… Wow.”

Lena ignores the soda she’d brought home, and instead swings to yank a beer out of the fridge. She passes Kara without a glance, slumping onto the couch as she stares at the black screen of her television.

“I’m not asking for you to share anything you don’t want to,” Kara clarifies, slowly trailing Lena into the living room. “I won’t ask if you don’t want me to, but I want to be here for you, whenever, or if ever, you want to talk about it.”

Lena continues to scowl at her drink, sitting propped on one knee. Kara doesn’t want to push, but she needs Lena to understand that she isn’t scared. She kneels in front of Lena, whose gaze reluctantly lifts to meet hers. She can feel the tension around Lena like a bubble, ready to rebuff any attempt to prod further.

“I am so proud of you,” Kara says, quiet but firm. “Despite everything, you haven’t given up. Every day, you still go out there and do what you can to help people.”

Kara takes a steadying breath before finishing.

“That means more than however you might feel you’ve failed.” 

Lena’s gaze slides away, scowl firmly in place, and Kara knows that’s the best she’s going to get. She gives Lena’s knee a squeeze. 

“I just needed you to know that.” 

With that, Kara stands and moves to clear out the sink. It gives her something to do as much as it gives Lena time to decompress. She hears the click of the television turning on, and the hum of voices coming through the low volume, but she suspects Lena isn’t truly watching.

When Kara joins her on the couch to finish whatever program is playing on the tv, she can feel that the reprieve hasn’t been enough. She reaches to offer Lena’s hand a squeeze, but Lena pulls away from her touch, clearing her throat.

“I’m pretty tired,” she says brusquely, her movements sharp and staccatoed. She moves towards the bedroom but pointedly makes no mention of Kara leaving. Kara clings to it, reminding herself again and again that this isn’t about her. 

She knows what it’s like, to feel unworthy of any tenderness or affection. Kara has the benefit of therapy and hard work to get her past those feelings– she doesn’t know if Lena has that. Either way, Kara knows the role she wants to play for Lena.

She wants to be the one who stays. 

Lingering on the couch, she lets the tv play as she scrolls idly through her phone, one ear pricked towards the bedroom. She doesn’t hear so much as a peep. Once the sun goes down, and the world beyond fades to dusky hues, Kara clicks the tv off and heads to the bedroom.

The light is off, leaving the room in shadows, but she sees enough to notice that Lena has climbed onto the mattress fully clothed. It lets Kara feel a little less awkward when she joins Lena there, inching as close as she dares until she can reach an arm over Lena’s waist. Lena’s still too tense to be asleep, but she doesn’t give any reaction to Kara’s arrival.

“Is it okay that I’m here?”

Her question murmurs against Lena’s shoulder blades, low and tender in the quiet room. Too tender, Kara worries, when Lena doesn’t immediately answer. But then, finally, Lena exhales, and curls one hand around Kara’s.

“Yeah.”

[eretzyisrael]

by Hank Berrien

A bombshell new report states that the British government is knowingly sending millions of pounds to the terrorist group Hamas.

NGO Monitor obtained a British Consulate-General in Jerusalem (BCGJ) document dated November 2022 with a plan for “UK Humanitarian Support in the Occupied Palestinian Territories.”

The document notes distribution of “multi-purpose cash” assistance in Gaza.  The document states, “The cash assistance component will be implemented in coordination with the Ministry of Social Development MoSD. … The MoSD in Gaza is affiliated with the de facto authorities and thus UK Aid can be linked directly or indirectly with supporting the de factor [sic] authority (Hamas) in Gaza which is part of a proscribed group.”

“Since taking control of Gaza in 2007, Hamas has employed a number of methods to divert international aid,” NGO Monitor wrote. “By exploiting monies and material intended for humanitarian purposes, the terrorist organization expanded its military infrastructure, paid salaries, and cemented its rule. More disturbingly, this aid diversion was central in Hamas’ preparations for the October 7 massacre, including the construction of tunnels and other military installations, and stockpiling supplies and resources.”

“Hamas has exercised effective control over the MoSD in Gaza for several years. In April 2019, Hamas appointed a politburo member, Ghazi Hamad, to lead the Ministry,” NGO Monitor notes. “As of July 2024, Hamas leader and politburo member, Ghazi Hamad, heads the Gaza branch of the MoSd. … In November 2024, the US Treasury Department designated Hamad, labeling him a “senior Hamas official. … In an October 24, 2023 interview on Lebanese television, Hamad hailed the October 7th massacre.”

“A Hamas-controlled entity was an integral partner in determining how cash assistance provided by the UK government to UNICEF would be distributed in Gaza,” NGO Monitor’s Anne Herzberg explained.

Israeli journalist Amit Segal noted after reading the report that the funding appears to have continued after the Hamas terrorist offensive.

“But maybe London changed its policy after October 7?“ Segal asked rhetorically. “Well, in March 2024, UNICEF wrote that it ‘maintained and strengthened the partnership with the MoSD,’ adding in November that ‘this humanitarian cash transfer program in the Gaza Strip is supported by the European Union, the UK Foreign, Commonwealth and Development Office (FCDO).’”

“Citing the UN Financial Tracking System, NGO Monitor wrote that ‘in 2024, the UK provided UNICEF with approximately $23.1 million for West Bank and Gaza operations,’” Segal pointed out, adding, “And yet, at the same time that Britain is knowingly sending millions of pounds to Hamas, British Prime Minister Keir Starmer is busy condemning Israel for the war in Gaza.”

[nourasbasha]

Israel furious after cancelling Bob Vylan, only for them to top the charts

How dare they refuse to be cancelled

Laura and Normal Island News

Israel is furious after it ordered the cancellation of punk act Bob Vylan, only for the controversial duo rise to the top of the Hip Hop and R n B album charts.

Israel has a proud tradition of getting anyone who disagrees with Israel cancelled, from famous actors and musicians to journalists and TV hosts and even politicians. Everyone who has challenged Israel has found themselves jobless, until now...

We had hoped the tyranny of Bob Vylan was over after their US visas were cancelled and they were dropped from the Radar festival at the request of wanted war criminals, but sadly not.

Outrageously, Bob Vylan now has three albums in the top ten and I've not listened to a single one (in case I like them), but I know they're all garbage. Andrew Neil said so and Andrew Neil knows what is cool.

All I can say is home secretary Yvette Cooper has an awful lot to answer for. While she has been careful to ensure 83-year-old reverends are classed as terrorists, she forgot to proscribe punk musicians who aren't pro-establishment. No real punk act would ever upset the establishment.

Thankfully, the BBC has learned its lesson after broadcasting Bob Vylan's hateful outburst live. Going forward, it will only show culturally relevant acts such as Madonna, Nick Cave, and Eden Golan. It was considering allowing Thom Yorke, but he was deemed too boring, even for the BBC. We can all agree that's fair enough.

Bob Vylan caused outrage last week when they led chants of "death, death to the IDF" at Glastonbury. A distraught Lisa Nandy said it was racist to oppose the genocidal army because Israel has conscription. She explained wishing death upon the IDF is equivalent to wishing death upon children, an argument she has strangely never made for Russians. Israeli child soldiers have every right to say they were "just following orders".

The difference between Israeli conscripts and Russian conscripts is that Russians are snarling savages whereas Israelis are cuddly teddy bears who rape their prisoners to death and bury ambulance crews in mass graves.

The Israeli-Jewish population is so progressive that 82% feel "there are no innocents in Gaza", according to polling data. If these teddy bears get conscripted and hollow out the heads of little girls, it's wrong for Palestinians to defend themselves. If someone did this to your little girl, you would agree the IDF is the "world's most moral army", wouldn't you?

The only reasonable course of action here is to proscribe Bob Vylan so we can jail not only them, but all of their fans. We do have millions of spare prison cells, don't we? x

[queerbrownvegan]

Dismantling White Supremacy Is Environmentalism: ICE RAIDS U.S.

My heart breaks for my community in Los Angeles. My community, my extended family members, and the people who raised me in my neighborhood are being seen as violent criminals. As an immigrant kid, my parents raised me to have compassion and humanity for all people, regardless of their status or cultural identity. What can you do? Start understanding history and the behemoth of the system we are against.

Immigrants are more than their economic output and people are shocked every time they tell me that they couldn't believe it would get worse. When in reality, I've been writing about the rise of the immigration industrial complex and how this has been designed for decades to imprison, separate, and use violence on our bodies to appease a select group of people who seek to uproot our diversity from this Earth. It's not enough to say you care about me and wave a poster; it's time for allies to use their privilege and power to shut down harmful narratives that are being used to harm us.

The United States federal and state governments are currently practicing environmental injustice in the form of building and maintaining toxic prisons and immigrant detention prisons, where people of color and undocumented persons are the majority of inmates and detainees who suffer disproportionate health risks and harm. Separating families, deporting parents, caging children: from opposite sides of the globe, the United States has created multitudes of crises to the land, culture, and people.

The immigration industrial complex is in violation of a multitude of human and environmental rights abuses. Imagine if we lived in a world where borders did not exist and people were no longer labeled undocumented based on a paper that upholds settler-colonial ideology.

How do we allow for the creation of our existence and sovereignty in settler states that have divided us within borders? The United States is a settler society founded on white supremacy and colonial expansionism. Their goal is to continue to remain a dominant force in suppressing Indigenous peoples and assert state sovereignty against people who are seen as the “other”, such as people who do not live within the geographic borders of the state.

It is believed that the United States-Mexico border was formally established back in 1848 starting with The Guadalupe Hidalgo Treaty with the coming of the end of the American-Mexican War. It established the relinquishment of parts of the land, which again we have to remind ourselves that Indigenous people are the original land stewards. This treaty gave rise to a division between the United States and Mexico. 

Throughout the United States, we saw how anti-immigration policies inflicted on people of the global majority, for in one case, the 1882 Chinese Exclusion Act, the first federal law proscribing entry of an ethnic working group on the premise that it endangered the order of certain localities.

The physical realm of the border was first created in 1911. It was to keep cattle from crossing America, and then in 1917, we saw the Immigration Act of 1917 aimed at restricting immigrants from entering the US by requiring people to pay $8 per person and pass a literacy test. By 1924, police systems had begun to mimic one another not just within settler states but also across their borders, where border patrol enforced regulations among the border states. Later in 1948, the Bracero Program was established, to which my grandfather contributed, providing agricultural labor to the US economy.

During this time, there was an influx of immigrants entering the US, working within agricultural sectors, and being employed at low wages. Thus, we see a similar pattern today where thousands of undocumented farmworkers are producing the globalized food system that a majority of us partake in, including myself. When I hear the term ICE or la migra, I think about the pain and power that has been inflicted on my family and other people of the global majority for the past decades.

Many people don’t recognize the intergenerational trauma children of immigrants have to go through. The Homeland Security Act of 2002 created the U.S. Department of Homeland Security. They created the Bureau of Immigration and Customs Enforcement—now known as U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement. ICE formed when the former U.S. Customs Service and the former Immigration and Naturalization Service merged during the shaping of the DHS. While ICE focuses on the enforcement side of United States immigration laws, U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services administers the legal immigration process. ICE to me is an environmental pollutant that must be eradicated within our movement. There have been a series of allegations and reports of their abuses towards migrant children, women, and marginalized folks. 

So how do we define the immigration industrial complex in our conversation with environmentalism?

We can best describe the immigration industrial complex as the confluence of public and private sector interests in the criminalization of undocumented migration, immigration law enforcement, and the promotion of ‘anti-illegal’ rhetoric. This concept is based on ideas developed about the prison and military-industrial complexes. These three complexes share three major features: (a) rhetoric of fear, (b) the convergence of powerful interests, and (c) a discourse of other-ization. It is estimated that nearly 11 - 12 million people are labeled as undocumented within the United States. Yet, many of them have no prospects for legalization under the current laws we live in today.

Our congress continues to fail us and they have continued to fuel billions of dollars into detrimental laws that disproportionately hurt immigrants. Back in 2006, the top ten countries from which undocumented immigrants hailed were from Mexico (with around 6.6 million), El Salvador (510,000), Guatemala (430,000), the Philippines (280,000), Honduras (280,000), India (270,000), Korea (250,000), Brazil (210,000), China (190,000), and Vietnam (160,000), representing 79 percent of all undocumented immigrants.

Each of these ten countries has strong historical ties to the United States in terms of long-term labor recruitment, direct foreign investment and trading relations, and US military involvement. When we examine Latin American countries, we must also interrogate how Mexico is complicit in upholding the colonial state of the US by mistreating Indigenous communities and upholding xenophobic laws towards Central Americans. I believe that ongoing anti-immigration rhetoric doesn’t end in the United States, it expands to countries that fuels violence, hate, and murder.

White Supremacy & Eco-Fascism

Language and words are powerful tools to describe our pain and power but yet they are dangerous when it comes to the hands of those wanting to spread malevolent energy. We’ve seen hate crime increase towards immigrants, especially within far-right groups that uphold white supremacy. When the El Paso shooting happened, it was found that the shooter embraced eco-fascism, in his manifesto, it was found that his reasoning to hurt people was due to environmental degradation and to protect natural resources. This is horrific because as we know, many environmentalists in the modern movement adopt the rhetoric of anti-human, blaming whole humans for the degradation of the planet while actively ignoring the effects of colonization, imperialism, and capitalism.

While our intent to say human supremacy is to bring awareness to people, it does more harm than good by influencing far-right groups to place the blame on immigrants. In fact, when we talk about eco-xenophobia, there are many White nationalists that believe every time immigrants come to the United States that they will be polluting the land when in reality they have the least carbon footprint compared to the elite and large-scale corporations. We need to be careful with our framing and how white supremacy can manifest itself in the environmental movement. After all, when conversations regarding depopulation come about, it often focuses on Global South countries which have generated the least amount of emissions than Global North countries.

Environmental Justice Is Migrant Justice

Our fight for environmental justice is migrant justice. Seeking the liberation of those who are currently confined by the immigration industrial complex is essential in the work we do today. I personally believe that extending ourselves to other ongoing movements will allow the environmental justice movement to grow and for people to start making the interconnections of these issues. I get a lot of sadness writing about these types of topics as they are emotionally draining for me having to read countless articles, research papers, and relate to my lived experiences of having family members being taken away from ICE.

I think that what matters to me is that no being deserves to be held captive for wanting a better life due to Western influence. It’s not controversial wanting to abolish ICE, it’s aligned to movement building. If you are someone who has experienced pain, grief, or trauma from these exploitative systems, just know that you are not alone and I will also do everything in my power to continue fighting. We are here to stay and resist oppressive structures.

F ICE. Protect the people and the planet.

[moonlady101]

Since yesterday was Valentine's day, let's all remember that Ancient Rome's greatest love story is recorded on an epitaph. It tells the story of how an orphan woman named Turia married a senator named Lucretius, who was proscribed by the triunvirate (Octavian, Antony and the unforgettable Lepidus). Turia managed, even when violence was being used against her, to get Octavian to revocate the proscription and made sure her husband was safe from being killed. They remained married until she died, even though she could not bear any children, and after her death, he recorded her story on stone, to make sure his wife was remembered.

So, yes, love did exist back then, not in the same way as it does today (I mean in more than two thousand years things have changed, a lot), but there are still some stories that make my dad shed a few tears while reading them.

By the way, the story is the Laudatio Turiae and you can read the full english version here: