aberdeenlocal1312

[aberdeenlocal1312]

Houston put someone on trial for feeding the homeless and jury calls bullshit

The state had to prove to a jury that feeding the homeless is a criminal act and in doing so, probably convinced a few members of the jury to sign up for food not bombs lol.

[aberdeenlocal1312]

if you want to send a letter of solidarity to jailed atlanta forest defenders facing egregious domestic terrorism charges, here is an IG post with all the info.

even small gestures and hellos help with the psychological torment of jail/prison.

they are potentially sacrificing their freedom because the weelaunee forest is one of atlanta's four great lungs; it is teeming with life. it belonged to mvskoke people. there were plans to have it permanently preserved as a conservancy by atlanta's city planning department, until cop city was proposed. no good will come from this project. it is funded by scumbags. (by dems mostly BTW! may allah have mercy on mayor keisha bottoms soul.)

the forest is worth defending. we should show them our gratitude.

[aberdeenlocal1312]

Check out Part 1 of 2 of the Interview with the Blackflower Collective on It Could Happen Here ft. Andrewism on "It Could Happen Here"

Andrew and Mia talk with two members of the Blackflower Collective about organizing in rural communities and the conditions that make it different from urban organizing.

[aberdeenlocal1312]

"Help the Homeless, Love your Homies, and Fuck the Police"

Seen in Denton, Texas, just outside of UNT campus lol

[aberdeenlocal1312]

Poetry of a pregnant political prisoner

In this cell, where I’m confined, With memories that I cannot unwind, I think of the life I once led, And how much my spirit has bled.

In this place, where I’m all alone, I’ve realized that I might have grown, A life, a seed, within me, That I fear, the Junta guards may see.

I remember the night that he came, A brute, with a power and strength to shame, He took what he wanted, with no remorse, And now, I fear I am the source.

Of a new life, a new soul to be, A child of hate, a legacy, Of the Junta, and their cruel reign, And how I’m left to bear the pain.

I weep for this child, unseen and small, A symbol of the evil that befalls, This land, this world, under their grip, And how, it may never know a peaceful trip.

I am a prisoner, but also a mother, A woman, oppressed, by their power, And I pray, for a better future, for this child, And for a world, where freedom runs wild.

Beneath the sterile prison walls, I lay in my cell A body that’s battered, a heart that’s unwell I close my eyes tightly, and try to forget The night I was taken, the night I regret

I remember his touch, rough and so cold I remember his laughter, as he took what he’d stole My dignity shattered, my spirit crushed I was just a plaything, a toy to be hushed

But now there’s a secret, a seed that he sowed A life growing inside me, a baby I don’t know I wonder what kind of world it will be Born in this prison, surrounded by debris

The thought of his child, it brings me such pain A reminder of the night, that I’ll always refrain I was a Marxist woman, with principles so true And now I am carrying, a child of the crew

I sob in the darkness, my tears they do flow For the life that I’ve lost, and the child that I’ll know I’m ashamed of my weakness, my body has betrayed The cause that I fought for, my Marxist crusade

I dream of the future, a world that’s so bright Where women like me, won’t have to fight For their rights and their bodies, their dignity so true But until that day comes, I’ll have to make do

With this burden inside me, this reminder of hate I’ll try to be strong, and defy my fate For the sake of the child, that I’ll soon hold And the hope for a future, where justice will unfold.

In my cell I lay, a prisoner of war, With chains that bind and wounds that sore, The night that haunts me, I can’t ignore, The night I became a victim, so very raw.

The junta guard, a monster in disguise, With a smile that mocked and laughter so wise, He took from me, what I valued the most, My dignity and freedom, at such a high cost.

I still remember, the weight of his touch, The way he held me, as if I meant so much, But it was a lie, a cruel, twisted game, One that left me with a shame so profane.

Now I lay here, a prisoner once more, With a burden I can’t ignore, For I might be carrying his child, so cruel, A constant reminder of the night I was used.

I feel so violated, my body a prize, A prize that was taken, before my eyes, And now I must face, the possibility, That I might be carrying, his legacy.

But I will not break, I won’t surrender, I’ll fight for my cause, until the end, For I am a Marxist, strong and proud, And I’ll raise my voice, so very loud.

So let this be a lesson, to all who oppress, That the human spirit, is not so easily pressed, For even in the darkest of times, Hope will always shine.

Beneath the cold, damp cells of the prison I lay, confined to a life of treason The junta guard, my captor and foe Whose touch I hate, but can’t help but know

His strength and power, a sight to see But oh, how it makes me ashamed of me For I, a leader of the communist part Find myself drawn to him, heart to heart

But how could I, a woman of the cause Allow myself to fall for a capitalist’s flaws? A man whose beliefs I’ve fought so hard Whose hands have bruised me, left me scarred

And now I’m burdened with a child inside The product of a love I cannot hide My body betrays me, it’s such a shame To carry a child, with such a name

A junta’s seed, inside of me A constant reminder of my defeat My dignity, my pride, all taken away By a man who embodies all I detest and reject

Oh, how I long to turn back the clock To the days when I wore my plain cotton frock But now, I am pregnant, and all alone With a child I didn’t choose, from a man I’ve known

The irony is not lost on me, I see A Marxist, carrying a capitalist’s seed It’s a degradation that I can’t deny A burden that I must now bear, and carry with pride.

In my cell, I sit alone and ponder The weight of this life I now must wonder A child from a man who stands for all The patriarchy and dictatorship I fight against, so small

A leader of the party, now so degraded This pregnancy, a symbol of all I’ve hated The junta guard, a physical representation Of the oppression and exploitation, a foundation

A new life, created from my misery and pain In this prison, I’ve lost myself again The thought of a child born into this life Fills me with sadness, anger, and strife

I am torn, between love for the child I’ll bear And the guilt of bringing life into this despair I know, I must fight for their future too And use this pain to create a world that’s new

The junta guards may have won this battle But they will not win the war, that is my rattle For this child, I’ll fight and make a change And ensure they don’t suffer this life, strange.

As I lay here in this cell, alone and afraid, The memories of that night haunt me like a masquerade. I never thought that I would be in this situation, Trapped by these men of tyranny and domination.

The junta guard, he took me with such force, His muscular frame and shiny boots, no remorse. He violated me in ways I can’t erase, And now I fear, this baby is his disgrace.

I used to be a leader, a fighter of the cause, Devoted to the Marxist ideals, a rebel without pause. But now I’m just a prisoner, stripped of all my might, Forced to wear this lingerie, a symbol of my plight.

I thought I had control, but now I see the truth, That I am nothing more than a toy for these men to use. And now, with this child growing inside of me, I feel like I’m betraying all that I believe.

The thought of giving birth to a child of my oppressor, Fills me with such shame, I cannot bear the thought any longer. A new life created from the misery of this prison, A product of the violence and degradation I’ve been given.

I don’t know how to reconcile this conflicting emotion, The love I have for this child, and my political devotion. But one thing I do know, is that I will not be broken, For in this pregnancy, I will find the strength to keep fighting.

In chains and captive, my soul is torn With a burden heavy, I lay in mourn A seed of shame, planted in my womb From the junta guard, in my cell, entombed

The night is vivid, still in my mind When I was taken, so cruelly confined His touch so harsh, his words so cruel My body violated, shattered, used

Now I carry life, within me grown A child of misery, of fear, unknown A symbol of the oppression I fight A constant reminder of my plight

Will I be capable, of loving this child Whose father is the source of my wild A man who stands for all I revile An embodiment of dictatorship, vile

I am a bearer, of the Marxist sword Dedicated to a cause, I can’t afford To ignore the life, growing inside Or turn my back, on this untamed tide

So I must face, this inner strife And find a way, to love this life For it is innocent, and so pure A child of mine, I must endure.

In my cell of sorrow and fear, I’m a prisoner, bound by chains so near. My body aches with memories so cruel, Of the night I was violated, my soul was the fool.

The junta guards, with their mighty power, Mistreated me, hour after hour. Their insults, mocking and cruel jeers, Left me feeling so low, with a pain that sears.

In this cell, I’m just a broken soul, With bruises, scars and wounds that never grow old. I try to be strong, to not give in to despair, But my spirit is crushed, beyond repair.

The thought of a child, conceived in pain, A new life born, in this world so insane. A child of my enemy, a junta guard so strong, The thought of it, tears me apart, all day long.

I’m a Marxist woman, once so proud, With political beliefs, that I stood out loud. But now I’m here, in this prison cell, My body a prisoner, my mind in hell.

I’m torn between love and hate, so confused, For the child I might bear, my heart is bruised. Can I love a child, from a man I despise, Or will my political beliefs, make my love a disguise?

I’m lost in my thoughts, in this cell so dark, With the constant violation, leaving its mark. I’m a woman of strength, once full of fight, But now I’m just a shadow, lost in the night.

Trapped in this cell of misery and pain, A body and heart that once felt no shame, But now I lay here, feeling so low, As the junta guard’s touch left a wound that won’t go.

I fought for a cause, for equality, For a world free of oppression and cruelty, But now I am nothing, just a broken soul, Betrayed by my body that surrendered control.

I thought I was strong, I thought I was brave, A leader in the fight to break the shackles and enslavement, But now I am just a shell, a husk of what was, A victim of violence, a prisoner of their laws.

My heart aches with sorrow, my mind filled with doubt, For I have been violated, I have been found out, Betrayed by my own body, my own flesh and blood, How can I love this child, born from such a cruel flood?

But still, I hold on, I cling to my dreams, For a world that’s fair, for a world that’s free, For I will not let them take away what I believe, For I am a marxist woman, and I will not leave.

[aberdeenlocal1312]

There is a long tradition of American Christianity that can be called “the slaver’s religion”, focused on justifying and even celebrating one person’s right to dominate and possess another.

While it mostly used to be restricted to the American South (the origin of the Southern Baptist denomination, for example), when the Nixon campaign realigned the Republican Party priorities to absorb George Wallace’s segregationist supporters, that married a regional slaver’s religion to a national business religion that worshiped wealth and the personal increase of power through it.

You may have heard it said that, for example, everything in Pennsylvania between Pittsburgh and Philadelphia is Alabama. That’s not exactly true, but you notice a lot of Confederate flags all over the USA in rural areas whose heritage either was in the Union, like Maine, or no connection, like Washington State. The regional variations have largely disappeared, and eastern California and West Texas have more in common than rural Mississippi and Jackson, or most of Idaho and Boise.

The slaver’s religion has metastasized.

It’s a Christianity not much concerned with Christ or scripture or the community of believers but rather in justifying the domination of one’s own group over others considered outside that group and therefore not fully persons. It doesn’t want to uplift the weakest and most vulnerable but try to fix them there permanently and then justify this as a moral imperative after the fact.

To do this, you need politics, and once you start worshiping power, you will find every excuse to make the expedient choice to continue aligning with the powerful and guaranteeing someone is below and worse than you.

The slaver’s religion requires control of the state and using its power to hurt and keep shackled everyone the slavers consider deserving it, so the state is worshiped as a god even when individual politicians are rejected as having corrupted it and in need of cleansing.

[aberdeenlocal1312]

The Forest in the City

https://crimethinc.com/ForestintheCity

The fight to defend the Weelaunee Forest in Atlanta has become one of the most vibrant movements of the post-Trump era, interweaving environmentalism, abolitionism, and the struggle against gentrification. Yet as police begin employing lethal violence and indiscriminate terrorism charges, it has reached a critical juncture.

In this comprehensive history of the past year of struggle, participants reflect on the practices that have given the movement strength and analyze the challenges that face it.

This is a follow-up to last year’s article, “The City in the Forest,” which traced the first phase of the movement.

#StopCopCity #DefendtheAtlantaForest

[aberdeenlocal1312]

Help protect Weelaunee Forest and stop the construction of cop city!

There was a conference last night for the Stop Cop City week of solidarity coming up February 19th-26th.

The main takeaway is that if people are interested in taking action, the best thing to do would be to target the construction company that the police have contracted, the funders of the project, and the insurance company insuring the project. The cops are the ones who want cop city built, but they can't do it without the groups mentioned above.

The construction company is Brasfield and Gorrie. My understanding is the company itself probably won't turn a huge profit from the project and is mostly doing it to strengthen relations with the police. If we can show them they will lose money from this project they may pull out. One way to show them how unprofitable this venture would be for them is to make it harder for them to complete other projects they're working on. One suggestion from the conference is that those who live near construction projects being done by Brasfield and Gorrie could try to obstruct progress on these projects to show there will be repercussions if they don't pull out of cop city.

The main funders of the project are big banks and corporations. I've included a link at the bottom with more details but some of the groups funding this are Wells Fargo, Bank of America, Target, Home Depot, and Chik-fil-a. The Atlanta Police Foundation is also helping fund and support the project. Below I've linked a map that shows the locations of these funders and offices of members of the Atlanta Police Foundation.

The insurance company signed onto the cop city project is AXA. At the conference last night it was emphasized that AXA is the main target we want to go after during the upcoming week of solidarity. The destruction of the forest cannot continue without an insurance company covering them. I did a quick google search and was able to find several AXA offices near me. Like with Brasfield and Gorrie, if we put the pressure on AXA they will hopefully realize this project is simply not worth it and pull out.

This is a list of targets which includes a map of where these targets are located throughout the US. There is also a list of actions that people can take, but be creative.

Nobody wants cop city except the police and corporations. Let's help save the Weelaunee Forest!

[aberdeenlocal1312]

OUT NOW!!

Just released, our third episode of Molotov Now!

In this episode we finish out our three episode introductory series with a discussion about where the Harbor is headed. We chat with Blackflower Collective about their plans for low income housing paired with a social center full of community resources.

Available on our website at https://sabotmedia.noblogs.org

Find us on Itunes, IHeart, or wherever you get your podcasts. Please like, rate, and review us. Tell your friends about it. To support us, use the Blackflower Collective account on Patreon.

[aberdeenlocal1312]

Check out the lastest article on The Harbor Rat Report titled "Red Harbor: The IWW Red Harbor: The IWW in Grays Harbor, Washington"

Grays Harbor is as an inviting starting point for a history of Industrial Workers of the World (IWW or Wobblies) in the Pacific Northwest because any study of this region should place this militant revolutionary organization and the dramatic labor confrontations it waged at or near the center. This contention rests in part on the fact that in Grays Harbor literally thousands of workers joined or otherwise supported the IWW during the first four decades of the twentieth century.

[aberdeenlocal1312]

Check out the interview with "Molotov Now!" on Its Going Down, We will be talking about Radical Grassroots Projects within Aberdeen, Washington such as our own at Sabot Media.

[aberdeenlocal1312]

New Harbor Rat Article

[aberdeenlocal1312]

OUT NOW!!

New Article just dropped, 'The Theocratic Origins of our Modern Political Dialogue' explores human nature and the cultural fallout from the concept of original sin.

For an excellent pairing with this article check out Andrewism's new video 'What We Get Wrong About Human Nature' https://youtu.be/zZSLFlAbycE

#HarborRatReport #HumanNature

[aberdeenlocal1312]

Remember back in 2020 when people all over America were like "can police please stop murdering black people" and universally the powers that be said "lol no" and proceeded to unleash a wave of police violence that included brutal attacks on over 400 journalists, a number of which blinded or otherwise maimed said journalists and then the police got even more money? That was kinda fucked up huh?

[aberdeenlocal1312]

We won!

Because The Satanic Temple is very bad at court cases.

But when it comes to #TheSatanicTemple, there's always more and it's always worse, so if you are in a place to hold them accountable, please continue to do so.

Moreover we are NOT still being sued by The Satanic Temple in federal court. 🎉🎉🎉

TST is still suing Newsweek and its reporter for writing about us. In addition, the Temple is now suing a TikToker in Texas for talking about our case. Check the pinned post for more.

[aberdeenlocal1312]

New article by The Harbor Rat Report on the rise of Christo-Fascism and its connection to the Faithful Baptist Church Of Aberdeen

[aberdeenlocal1312]

We just released part two of our second podcast episode on he History of the Harbor's Homeless. You can listen on our website at sabotmedia.noblogs.org

Find us on Itunes, IHeart, or wherever you get your podcasts. Please like, rate, and review us. Tell your friends about it. To support us use the Blackflower Collective account on Patreon.