#fargo protests

[rose-recollection]

we pass by the people who fund this, their employees stare at us through the glass

we hope we will see a day where their branches crumble and we can rebuild our buildings

photo from recent DC March (2024)

[willaferrreyra]

first date movies — neil lewis x reader

word count: 2.9k (oops this was….way longer than i thought)

contains: SMUT (18+ ONLY) —> fingering, oral (m receiving), public indecency (getting it on in a movie theater because…it’s neil), fluff, happy ending!

you have a crush on your coworker and you really wish you didn’t.

note: this has not been proofread so place excuse any typos! i hope you enjoy especially since this is my first smut fic on this account which is insane. also all of the movies referenced are some of my favorites so…..i’d absolutely recommend them if you haven’t seen them already! neil is my silly little movie buff husband and i’d absolutely LOVE to write for him again so please leave some feedback if you’d like more!

cillian taglist: @mortylover

As you stood on a step stool, shelving new video arrivals, you could hear Ingrid Bergman's lovely Swedish accent behind you.

Notorious. You'd seen it a million times but you'd never gotten sick of it. It was your favorite Hitchcock and often the movie you'd throw on if you were in need of comfort. Although it was your turn to pick what everyone watched at the video store today, you weren't sitting with everyone else on the big worn out sofa. You preferred to shelve and enjoy the sound of the movies in the background (maybe walking over when your favorite scene was on). After all, someone needed to help the customers even if you didn't have many.

You had an annoying habit of reciting movie lines that you loved, as did Neil, the owner of the store and one of your closest friends.

"This is a very strange love affair," you said with Ingrid as you placed Valley of the Dolls in its right place.

"Why?" Neil said right along with Cary Grant, glancing over at you.

"Maybe the fact that you don't love me," you shot him a dramatic look, trying to do your best Ingrid Bergman impression.

"Your Bergman should be better for someone who's seen this movie more times than she can count," he said.

You rolled your eyes.

"She's got a unique accent! Plus it's very transatlantic. That's hard."

"She can do the Fargo accent," your other coworker Jonathan pointed out, not bothering to look up from the TV.

"Oh, you betcha," you grinned, nailing the unmistakable Minnesotan "o" sound.

"That's not hard!" Neil protested.

"It's not easy!"

The doors jingled as your best friend walked through the door, cutting the discussion about accents short. Before you could even say anything she already had a request.

"First date movie. Help."

You thought for a minute.

"Well what's the person like?"

"I don't know! I haven't met him yet. This is a blind setup by a coworker thing."

"Do you....think you'll be paying attention to the movie?"

She made a face.

"Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?"

"Not necessarily! You could be....talking."

After many failed dates with guys who were into film, you understood the complexities of picking the first date movie. It said a lot about a person — what they're into, how they feel, who they aspire to be. But at the end of the day, it needs to be something that can transition to being background noise for a good make out session while still being enjoyable. Very few movies check all of those boxes.

"Just don't give me anything too complicated, okay?" she sighed. "No Lynch. No Cronenberg."

You fake frowned. "I was just gonna rent Crash and Lost Highway to you as a double feature."

She shuddered as she remembered the horror that was watching both of those films. You could stomach things like that but she absolutely couldn't.

"Okay, sit tight. I have a thought," you said as you ran over to the romances.

Your friend wandered over to the TV while you hunted for her perfect first date movie.

"Hey guys," she said monotonously.

"Hey," they replied equally unenthused.

She stood and watched the movie for a minute before you came back holding Moonstruck.

"Cher. Nic Cage. Romantic. Easy to follow. It checks every box!"

"That's your idea of a first date movie?" Neil scoffed.

"What's yours? The Seventh Seal?" you rolled your eyes.

"Yeah, that's why Denise broke up with him," Jonathan replied.

"What? You didn't tell me that!"

"Well it kind of just happened," he said. "And to be honest I'm not so broken up about it."

After knowing Neil a while, you knew that he wasn't one for consistent steady girlfriends. Denise lasted longer than most, but in the end he always seemed to get bored. Sure, he got around to an extent, but it was hard for you to picture Neil Lewis truly settling down. Unless, of course, you pictured him with you — but you tried not to do that. The thought popped into your brain every once in a while but you pushed it out as soon as it arrived. You knew you'd only end up getting hurt.

"Okay, well that's good because I was wondering if you wanted to go to the movies tonight. I mean, I'm all for a good ol' post breakup pity party but I'd much rather go see The Thing on the big screen tonight."

You and Neil did your part to keep your local independent theater in business more than anyone else in town. It was a regular thing for the two of you to go see at least two movies a week, sometimes more. Sometimes Jonathan and Lucien would tag along and sometimes it was just the two of you — every time you secretly hoped that it would be just the two of you.

"Now that's a good first date movie," Jonathan said.

"The Thing for a first date?" you scrunched your nose into a face of disapproval. "You guys have no taste."

"Well good thing we're not going on a first date then," Neil said. "But yeah, I'll go with you, I'm not doing anything else. Wanna grab dinner and go straight there?"

Those words shouldn't have been such a dagger to you but they were. No shit, this wasn't a first date. He didn't need to remind you.

"Yeah, that's fine," you said, trying to mask the disappointment in your voice. "I just have a few more things to finish up here and then we can head out."

You helped your friend rent her movie and finished up your shelving duties with a little less pep in your step than usual as Neil's words played over and over again in your mind like a broken record.

Good thing we're not going on a first date then. Fuck him. It's not like he was trying to hurt you, after all he didn't know that you maybe kinda sorta liked him. But those words.....you just couldn't take your mind off of them as you mentally prepared yourself for your very clearly stated non-date.

—

A little diner by the local theater had been your spot with Neil for as long as you'd been coworkers. It had become a tradition of yours to sneak in mini bottles of booze to pour into the milkshakes, either on celebratory or wallowing in your sorrows occasions. Neil's breakup felt like a good excuse to give your shared vanilla shake deserved an extra kick, even if you were the one who really needed it.

"Is anyone looking?"

He shook his head as you poured the vodka into the glass, stirring the concoction with the straw. You didn't wait for Neil before placing your lips to the straw and downing a quarter of it all at once.

"Hey, take it easy. I thought I was the one who needed the alcohol tonight," he chuckled.

"You said it yourself, you're not upset about Denise," you said, the irritation in your voice shining through.

"Are you upset about something, then? I'm sorry I didn't really help you shelve today, I just- you know, you like to do that stuff by yourself sometimes. And you picked such a good movie I couldn't tear myself away from the screen."

It would've been easier if you had really been upset about that. You wished that you were upset about that And now half the shake was gone, everything you wanted to say was rushing to your head, and you didn't even think about what you were doing when you blurted out:

"Why can't this be a first date?"

His eyes widened as he let out a small chuckle, assuming you were kidding.

"What?"

"You heard me. Why can't this be a first date?"

As he stared back at you, you felt like you had just fucked everything up. This amazing friendship was just ruined now because you drank your boozy milkshake too fast.

"Do....do you want it to be?" he asked.

"Fuck!" you exclaimed before burying your head in your hands. "Forget I said anything. I-I drank that too fast."

"No, I....we can call this a date if you want. In fact I'd really like that."

He wasn't trying to humor you and he wasn't trying to make the situation better by saying something that he didn't mean — he was dead serious.

"Neil, don't say that if you don't mean it," you sighed. "I'm just....upset today. Don't listen to me."

He studied your face for a minute before speaking again.

"Do you remember when I interviewed you for your job?"

"Now what does that have to do with anything?"

You did, in fact, remember your Gumshoe interview very well. You had asked him if he'd ever considered doing a film noir themed commercial for the store and you'd never seen someone so excited about an idea before — you always assumed that was why you had gotten the job.

"I knew you before that, you know," he said. "I remembered you from when you used to be a customer. There was actually this one time when you had an overdue fee and I paid it for you and told the guys that I had lost the tape."

This made you smile a bit.

"Point being?"

He took a deep breath before he continued on.

"Normally when we do the interview process, we ask the same shit, you know? What's your favorite movie? Who's your favorite director? And I asked you that stuff even though I thought I already knew the answers, I remembered what you used to rent. I thought I knew you so well and then you just went totally fucking wildcard on me — and I loved it. Ever since then you've kept on surprising me and I....well, I really like that. I guess what I'm trying to say is I really like you. And I think I always have."

You stared at him wide-eyed. You had not expected your little drunken tantrum to get you a confession of feelings.

"Neil....do you know why I rented from Gumshoe all the time? I mean, I'm all for supporting the little guys, but I really went in to see you. And then I got this job and I got to know you and you weren't just the cute guy at the video store anymore, you were like....my cute friend/boss technically but I won't get into that. But I got to know you and I watched you go through all of these relationships because you get bored eventually and....I just think you might get bored with me. I'm no Katharine Ross in Butch and Sundance."

He shook his head as a smile crept across his lips.

"No, you're even more exciting than that. You're like...Barbarella or something. Queen of the galaxy."

"Barbarella's whole thing was sex appeal," you point out. "That's the whole movie."

"Sex appeal, sure. But she's also kind and interesting and witty. You've got all of that."

You took all of that as a compliment but you found yourself blushing at his mention of sex appeal.

—

When you arrived to the movie theater after finishing your meal, it seemed that you two were the only ones dying to see a John Carpenter flick on a Tuesday evening. You had your pick of seats in the empty theater.

Your non-date turned date couldn't have been going better, honestly, it made you think that you should turn to drinking more often. It fixed this problem miraculously well.

As you settled into your seats and the lights dimmed, it was clear that both of you wanted to make a move but didn't know how to do it. After all, you couldn't just go straight for unzipping his fly. Or could you? Tonight was all about confidence and he clearly liked it when you kept him on his toes. You decided to start slow, resting a hand on his thigh, letting your hand wander from there.

He looked over at you as you made contact with the bulge in his jeans. It was hard to read his expression in the dark, but you could feel that he didn't want you to stop.

"Are we really gonna do this here?" he whispered.

"We've both seen this a thousand times, I think it'll be okay if we get a little distracted," you whisper back. "U-unless you don't want—"

He cut you off with a kiss that was a long time coming. You were surprised by the sheer force of it as your tongues collided. His hand reached up to cup the side of your face as you melted into the kiss, illuminated by the glow of the silver screen. He made you feel dizzy, but in a good way.

Now, you had never been intimate in a movie theater before, but it was even more exhilarating than you could’ve imagined. As you slowly unzipped his fly, taking his length out of his jeans, you noticed that Neil wasn’t watching the movie at all. His eyes were completely focused on you.

“You’re really taking your time, aren’t you?” he whispered. He was rock hard already and you could tell that he was getting incredibly impatient. You held the base of him while you teased his tip with your tongue. Whatever composure he thought he had went out the window as he his eyes rolled back in pleasure. Based on his breathing patterns you thought he was going to come right then.

“Fuck,” he swore under his breath. “Just….just like that.”

You could feel him trembling as your tongue continued to work its swirly magic. Eventually you began to take him in your mouth completely, greeting him with the warm sensation of the back of your throat. He groaned out your name in a raspy whisper as you bobbed your head on his length. Before you knew it, you could feel a hand on your head guiding it along — his touch felt so intimate and loving, you couldn’t get enough.

“I-I’m close….I’m— fuck….I’m gonna—“

Before he could finish what he was going to say, you could feel his come coat the back of your throat. It was a warm, welcome feeling and you couldn’t wait to feel it again.

“Jesus christ,” he sat there catching his breath before turning to you. “That was….wow. You’re just…..I-Incredible.”

You smiled at the praise. It wasn’t even day that you were complimented on your blowjob skills.

Your head made its way to his shoulder as you sat side by side watching the movie. His hand began on your though but slowly because to creep it’s way up between your legs.

“Returning the favor?” you whispered, smiling softly as you glanced in his direction.

He nodded, speaking in a sultry whisper that nearly made your legs shake. “You know, you just made me feel so good….it would be a crime not to reciprocate it, don’t you think?”

You continued to rest your head on his shoulder as he slipped two fingers inside of you. You couldn’t help but notice how easily they went in — you had been soaked for hours.

“All this for me?” he chuckled. “How long have you been like this?”

“All night,” you said in between heavy breaths. “I-I’m always like this around you, Neil.”

“No way, are you really?”

His switch up from the sultry whisper to his excited tone made you giggle.

“I have….a tendency to daydream about you when I’m around you,” you explained.

His fingers found just the right spot as he continued to question you. It was becoming increasingly difficult for you to talk.

“Daydream about what specifically?”

A small whimper escaped your mouth as his fingers curled inside of you. You couldn’t even recall what you used to daydream about until it hit you.

“This…..this exact moment. I-I’ve….fuck….Ive daydreamed about this a m-million times.”

“Oh yeah?” he asked as he started to pump his fingers faster. “And how does it end?”

“I- Neil- I’m gonna—“

“How does it end, sweet girl? Tell me.”

You could barely even answer in between heavy breaths but you managed to speak up, your words intertwined with your moans.

“Y-you make….you make me come, N-Neil! I’m….right now, I’m—“

“Show me. Come for me. Show me how the daydream ends.”

And you did, trying your best to keep quiet as you came undone. You buried your face into his shoulder as you whimpered and throbbed against his fingers.

“Good girl,” he exhaled. “That’s a good girl.”

—

The next day at work, you and Neil debated what you should tell the others. To announce the relationship or keep it a secret was a heavily debated topic, but you eventually settled on keeping it to yourselves for a while before revealing it. You thought it would be nice to have something that was just yours for a while. Plus, hiding a relationship can be incredibly sexy.

As you walked into Gumshoe, you flashed a quick smile at Neil who was in his usual spot behind the counter before taking your place at the shelf.

“Hey, Jonathan,” you called over to the couch, getting his attention. “I was totally wrong. Upon my rewatch, I think that The Thing would be a great first date movie.”

“See, I told you! I told you and you never fucking listen to me,” he said. “What made you change your mind?”

You glanced over at Neil one more time. It was clear that he was thinking about last night just as much as you were.

“I don’t know…” you shrugged. “Maybe it’s Kurt Russell.”

[decolonize-the-left]

DIVEST FROM BANKS FOR PALESTINE

.....Correct me if I'm wrong but allies to Israel would have no money to move around and spend if we and banks have no money to move around for them right?

Even the US treasury needs a way to offer collateral for the billions they give to countries like Israel. Do you know what that collateral has been thus far? Your paycheck. The future paychecks of babies that can't even talk yet. That's how they'll pay all this off.

The government has been giving us the biggest fuck you that they could. Let's return the favor.

"yeah but the banks-"

Have been bailed out every time they've asked for it since I've been alive. They love debt when they aren't the ones paying it. They'll know how heavy the weight of their arms dealing is. There's a reason they have been phasing out paper checks and money- they can't move money they don't have and digital bank accounts can't see the paper money in your drawer ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

So yes absolutely keep boycotting.

And we should pull all our money out of Major Banks.

It's incredibly accessible for most people who already have a bank account, even if you can't protest or strike. And you don't have to miss any work.

So let's hit em where it hurts.

Banks (from this list of Banks that heavily fw Israel)

Citibank

Bank Julius Baer & Co

Bank Lombard Odier & Co

Banque Pictet & Cia SA

BNP Paribas Israel

CBH Compagnie Bancaire Helvetique S.A.

Dreyfus Sons & Co.

Hyposwiss Private Bank Geneve SA

JP Morgan Chase Bank N.A.

Silicon Valley Bank

Union Bancaire Privee

HSBC

Barclays

BNP Paribas Israel

State Bank of India

Other banks that have supported the genocide

Goldman Sachs

Bank of America

Wells Fargo

Blackrock

AXA

Capital One

RBS

Marks & Spencer

Tesco

Scotia Bank

Bank of Montreal

No, you don't have to cancel your direct deposits (most places in the USA won't even pay you without an account anyway). But you should drain your account ASAP. Don't let the money sit in your bank. Pull it out and use cash for everything you can. Don't put money in the bank unless you need to.

The point is just to keep as much money as you can out of banks for as long as you can.

Yeah it's gonna be harder to order online which may be inconvenient until we readjust but thats good.

It'll be a natural way for the boycotts to evolve.

A lot of fighting in the Red Sea is being done because of how much money the USA, UK, etc have to lose if they can't get their products on time. The Houthis turning ships away cost these countries millions every time. If there are less ships to turn away cuz people aren't ordering stuff from overseas then Good.

Yeah we could have an organized day to do this but...why??? It's accessible, it's free, and the people across the globe experiencing a genocide right now, from north America to Africa to Palestine don't have the luxury of waiting a few months for us to spread the word and organize.

If you see this share it. Copy/paste, repost, retweet, idc. Spread like wildfire pls

[multifandomfanficss]

More Than I’m Willing To Lose Part 2

Adrian Chase/Vigilante x Reader

Featuring platonic!11th Street Kids

Adrian Chase Masterlist

Part 1, Part 3, Part 4

Prompt: Adrian takes care of you after the incident. This is Part 2 for More Than I’m Willing To Lose.

Warnings: panic, meltdowns, hitting yourself and pulling your own hair during a meltdown, gun violence, hospitals, non-sexual nudity, non-sexual showering with another person, wound care, cannon typical Peacemaker violence and language

A/N: Hi guys! I meant to post this yesterday, but forgot. I’ve never been on a weekly posting schedule before. Super exciting! I hope you enjoy the chapter and the rest of the series! ❤️🧜‍♂️❤️

It wasn’t long before you were discharged from the hospital. Adrian had spent as much time with you as possible, occasionally stepping out for a short shift at Fennel Fields. The others took turns hanging out with you in the four hours a day he was gone. He had originally planned on taking time off, but you wouldn’t let him. You knew he needed the money and that it wasn’t healthy for him to spend all of his time awake or asleep in a hospital. He rationalized going to work by promising to take off time when you were discharged so he could help you get readjusted. Truth be told the nights he was gone for a couple hours were your favorite. It wasn’t that you didn’t miss him. It was the opposite actually, but despite missing him you were always excited when he brought you food after his shift. Italian food was your favorite and you were sick of hospital food.

On one particular afternoon you were missing Adrian a little more than usual.

“I know that look.” Adebayo laughed.

“What look?!” You asked.

“You miss Adrian.” She gives an exaggerated sigh.

“Do not!” You protest, but the deep red coming to your cheeks tells a different story. The tv was on and you had been channel surfing until you came upon a channel playing Fargo reruns. It was very obvious who you were thinking of.

“He’s a little interesting…but sweet.” She smiled. “I can understand why you like him.” She says after a short pause.

“I never said-“

“I could just tell. Harcourt and I have been talking about it over the past few days. We think he likes you too.” She cuts you off. You decide to sit silently on that information. Your mind drifts back to your first night in the hospital when you could have sworn you heard Adrian say he loved you. You were on some heavy pain meds and you were falling asleep, so you had forgotten about it until now and you weren’t sure it even happened. That’s going to be the only thing in your head for a while.

Not too long after that you hear a knock at the door. You look up to see Adrian half dressed in his uniform. His apron and hat are missing, but he’s still in his red shirt and black pants. He has a brown paper bag in his hand and the smell of Italian food is radiating from the hallway. Your face immediately lights up.

“I brought your favorite.” He smiles.

“And mozzarella sticks?” Adebayo asks.

“And mozzarella sticks.” He confirms. Leota pumps her fists in the air with excitement and you laugh.

“I missed the beginning of Fargo?” Adrian whines turning his head to the tv.

“Sit down. I’ll restart it. The hospital has direct tv.” You say, patting the bed. He settled into the bed next to you. With Adebayo in the chair, he really had no other place to sit, but neither of you minded. You had become like puzzle pieces that fit perfectly together since the night you arrived at the hospital. While Adrian’s eyes were glued to the tv, you couldn’t help, but notice Ad’s giving you a mischievous look.

In the next few days you were discharged. Adrian had the day off from Fennel Fields and Harcourt excused him from the team meeting, so he could help you. He would be helping you a lot after your discharge. You were currently sat in the passenger seat of his Sebring. Your arm was in a sling, but aside from that you were feeling a little bit of normalcy for the first time in forever with your window down and Adrian’s music coming from the speakers. The two of you were quietly singing along to the music as he drove along the familiar streets of your neighborhood. By the time he had gotten to your block you were done singing. You stared down the street at your apartment. You hadn’t noticed Adrian had stopped singing either until he grabbed your hand. You lightly jumped, a little startled by the sensation, but eased into the feeling of his warm hands.

“You’re shaking. Are you okay?” He asks hesitantly, pulling over in front of your building. You take a deep breath and give him a slow nod. He gives you a small smile, putting the car in park. “Look, I know I’m not always the best at knowing what people are thinking, but if any of this is too much for you, just let me know.” He says, trying to make eye contact with you. You can’t peel your eyes away from the place in front of your apartment where you were shot. The blood is gone. If you didn’t know better, if you were just passing by on the street, you would assume nothing had ever happened. You slowly nod again. “We can just sit here for a minute if that’s what you need?” Adrian asks hesitantly.

“I want to go inside.” You say quietly.

“Are you sure?” He asks.

“I want to go inside, but I can’t walk up the steps by myself.” You admit shyly.

“You don’t have to. I’m going to be with you every step of the way.” He assures you. He slowly gets out of the car and walks to the passenger door. He opens it for you and undoes your seatbelt. He then holds out his hand for you to take. “Whenever you’re ready.” He says, patiently. Every part of your body feels hyper sensitive, like all of your senses are on fire. You can feel the muscles flex in Adrian’s arm as he pulls you up. You can hear the blood rushing in your ears. Your legs feel wobbly as your feet slap against the hard concrete. As you approach the steps to your building you grip Adrian tighter. He pulls you protectively into his side. You think you can faintly hear him talking, but you can’t process what he’s saying. You are however aware of the sounds of the key scraping inside the lock as Adrian lets you into your apartment on the second floor. After Jack had stolen your keys, Harcourt and Economos had come by the replace the locks. You take one more step and you’re in your apartment. Once you’re inside you look at the posters of your favorite shows and movies and try to forget that Jack had even set foot in the space. This was your safe place and you would make it that way again. Harcourt had offered to get you a place in the building where she was living, but you refused. You didn’t want this asshole to take your home away from you. You would make it yours again.

As soon as you walked into your bedroom and carefully flopped onto your bed, you felt a rush of comfort splash over you; like waves rolling over your body at the beach on a hot summer day. Staring at the familiar ceiling brought you peace. You traced the stars and planets on your ceiling with your eyes. You hadn’t put them there and they had long since been painted over by someone, most likely your landlord, but they were your favorite part of your apartment. The plastic glow in the dark stars and planets covered by white paint had probably been there long before you moved in and they would be there long after.

It was nice to be in clothes you felt comfortable in again. The hospital gown was getting old and the feeling of your couch underneath your body felt so familiar and comforting. You were currently watching Little Shop of Horrors with Adrian and your apartment smelt of slightly burnt popcorn and butter because Adrian was trying to make sure every kernel popped and in the process burnt some of the earlier pieces to pop out of the batch. You were currently waiting for Chris to show up with the beer he promised to bring.

“I don’t understand how he fucked up this badly. He could have easily gotten away with that murder. He’s such a bad lier.” Adrian sighs.

“No offense, but you are like the worst lier I’ve ever met.” You laugh.

“I am not!” He argues.

“No, you are. I don’t know how you haven’t been caught yet.” You continue to laugh.

“I haven’t been caught because I’m the second best superhero in town!” He declares.

“Honey, you’re one of only two suited superheroes in town.” You blush, realizing you just called him honey.

“That we know of.” He says, lips tight in a pout, desperately reaching to win this argument. You open your mouth to respond when suddenly the power goes out. You feel yourself stop breathing. Adrian stands up and gets off the couch. You reach out in the darkness desperately trying to grab for him. He must barely see you because he leans into your grasp. He crouches down to your level, placing your hand on his face.

“I’m here. I’m just going to look outside. Just stay here, okay?” He says. You let out a soft whimper, unable to form words. “I’m not even going to leave the room. I’m just going to look out the window.” Adrian releases your hand, standing up again, walking towards the living room window that faces the front of your building. You find a little peace when his body is illuminated by the moonlight. You try to hold back tears and breathe evenly. Adrian quickly moves towards you as your eyes try to adjust to the darkness. He’s taking something out of the waste band of his jeans. He brings you to the corner of the room. You hear a click and you want to immediately retreat, but there’s nowhere to go. You start to hyperventilate.

“I need you to stay in the corner and shoot anyone who walks through that door that isn’t me.” Adrian says quickly.

“I-I can’t-“

“Yes, you can. You have to.” Adrian cuts you off.

“I don’t know how to use it.” You’re looking for any excuse to not take the gun.

“The safety is off and there’s plenty of bullets for if you miss the first time. Aim for the head or the-“

“Adrian, I can’t.” It was your turn to cut him off.

“Why not?” He asks. The two of your are speaking a mile a minute.

“I can’t do it. I can’t. I never want to see a gun again. Please don’t make me take that.” You beg him.

“I’m sorry, but you need to take this.” He says. Shoving the weapon in your hands.

“Please don’t leave me.” You beg through sobs that you started, but are unable to stop.

“I have to run downstairs for just a minute. I promise I’ll be right back, but I need you to promise you’ll stay in this corner and you’ll shoot anything that moves.” He pleads with you. You nod through your sobs. “I’ll be right back. I promise.” He says before running out the door.

You stand in the corner for what feels like the longest moment of your life. It feels like an hour although you’re sure it’s only been a few minutes. You hear gunshots outside and your heart stops. After a little while you start to hear footsteps coming up the stairs. You don’t recognize the heaviness of the boot and the foot pattern to be Adrian. You wait to be sure until a silhouette comes into the doorframe and it’s taller and wider than Adrian. With the lights still out, you’re able to attack the intruder before they even recognize you’re in the room. You follow Adrian’s instructions and pull the trigger.

“What the fuck, (Y/N)?! It’s Chris!” The voice yells. You freeze in your tracks. Suddenly the lights come back on and you’re met face to face with Chris who is now holding his arm, bleeding. Luckily you had only grazed him. You hear footsteps running up the stairs.

“I found the breaker!” Adrian calls from down the hall.

“I don’t give a shit about the breaker, they shot me!” Chris continues to yell as Adrian enters the room. You stay frozen, staring down at the gun.

“Sorry. I told them to shoot anyone that wasn’t me.” Adrian says.

“You couldn’t have warned me?!” Chris complains.

“You didn’t ask.” Adrian shrugs, walking over to you slowly. You can see Chris’ look of annoyance, but you don’t truly process it. Adrian takes in your posture and facial expressions, analyzing you, before slowly placing his hand over the barrel of the gun. Your hand is gripping it so tightly that your knuckles have turned white. “I’ve got it. Just let go. That’s it.” Adrian says softly as you slowly release the gun. When it’s out of your hand and Adrian passes it off to Chris, you release a breath you didn’t know you were holding, as you fall forward into Adrian’s arms. You feel your body go limp against his as you start to sob. You drag him to the ground with you. He shushes you, rubbing circles into your back.

“I’m sorry.” You apologize.

“You did nothing wrong. You did exactly what I told you to. I’m so proud of you.” Adrian smiles down at you. You continue to cry into his arms.

“He’s gone. He made a run for it when we started shooting at him. We tried to catch him, but we weren’t fast enough.” Chris tells you. You know this is supposed to be in an effort to make you feel better, but it only makes you feel worse.

You try to keep your body from shaking violently. You wiggle around in Adrian’s arms. He catches on to your attempt to self sooth and he sways with you. You pull your arm that is not in the sling out from under his and start to pound into your head and pull at your hair. You try to hold back screams. He carefully unwinds your fingers from your hair and hugs you tighter to keep you from hurting yourself. You scream into his chest.

“I’m sorry. It’s gonna be okay. You’re safe now. I’m never gonna let him hurt you again. I’m here. I’m here.” Adrian repeats. Chris leaves the room to call Harcourt to give her an update. After a while your sobbing subsides, as you continue to rock back and fourth slowly in Adrian’s arms. “You’re doing so good. I’m so proud of you. You’re so strong.” He continues to compliment and reassure you. He places a kiss on your forehead. The warmth of his lips spreads across your whole body. It helps bring you to a calm enough state to speak.

“I don’t want to be here anymore.” You let out a quiet, weak sentence.

“Do you want to sleep at my place tonight?” He asks. You nod, but make no effort to get up to leave. Adrian slowly helps you stand and he drags you to your room to sit on your bed while he packs a bag for you. You assume you will be gone for more than one night, as he packs you a bag of several days worth of clothes. He wraps your favorite blanket around your body, and slings the bag of clothes over his shoulder. He then picks up your favorite pillow in one hand and wraps an arm around you with his free hand. You hold onto him tight as the three of you make the trip outside to pile into the Sebring. You hold your breath until Adrian locks your seatbelt in place and drives far enough that your apartment is out of view. Chris is still on the phone updating Harcourt. It was late enough. Tonight she would let you rest, but tomorrow she was going to come to Adrian’s to crack down and close this fucking case.

First stop was to drop off Chris. The guys decided that tonight probably wasn’t the best night for beer and movies. After stopping at the trailer you made your way back to Adrian’s place. You stayed silent the entire time and for the first time in his life Adrian didn’t have much to say either.

“I want you to teach me how to shoot.” You say quietly, breaking the silence. Your voice is dead as you stare off through the window.

“What? I thought you were afraid of guns.” Adrian questions.

“I don’t know what I’m not afraid of at this point, but the next time I see that bastard I’m blowing his fucking brains out.” You inform him.

“Wait a second. You used to be so anti-killing. That was supposed to be my job. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you’re finally coming to your senses on the topic of killing bad people and this dude totally needs to be killed, this just isn’t like you.” He rambles.

“I don’t even know who me is anymore. He took that away from me.” You let your voice trail off, as you get choked up again. Adrian looks at you, not quite knowing what to say. The truth is he wishes he could say every nice thought he’s ever had about you, but he doesn’t want to freak you out. He doubts you feel the same about him and after getting shot by your first date since he met you a year ago, he doesn’t really think you’re in the mood. After all Chris had spent the entire past year saying you were so far out of his league that it was funny. You wish you knew all of this. You would have proved Chris wrong.

Adrian walks around to your side of the car, opening the door for you. He lets you into his home. You walk around like a zombie with a blank stare, not particularly looking at anything, just sort of disassociating. He takes your belongings and brings them down the hallway to what you assume is his bedroom.

“What do you want to do now?” Adrian asks. You shrug, avoiding his stare.

“Do you want to shower and change into something more comfortable?” He asks. You think about a shower and it’s honestly the best thing you can imagine right now. You nod, speaking feeling like a chore. He pushes you towards the bathroom and starts the water for you. He places his hand inside until the water is the perfect temperature. He turns to leave the room, but you stop him. You call his name softly. He turns around and hums in response.

“Can you help me?” You ask, pointing to your sling. He gulps and nods. You think you see a blush quickly approaching his cheeks, but you’re too numb to care at the moment. He helps you take off your sling. He then places his hands at the hem of your shirt.

“If you’re uncomfortable, just let me know and I’ll stop and leave the room.” He says. You lock eyes with him, trying to keep tears at bay and nod. You hadn’t felt this safe with a man in so many years, you couldn’t even remember. It was especially jarring after that ‘date’. He slips your shirt off of your body, pausing to take a look at your wound. “I’m going to have to redress your shoulder after you shower.” He tells you. You nod again, too tired for words. He then kneels to take off your shoes and socks. He then slides your jeans down your legs. With any other man this would be awkward. It would feel oddly sexually charged. You wouldn’t feel safe. With Adrian you know he would never do anything to hurt you. You know he’d respect you and your body and never take advantage of you. That’s why you take your next step.

He holds out his hands to help you step with wobbly legs into the shower. When he goes to leave the bathroom, you reach out your hand to tug at his.

“Can you…” You’re just so tired of talking. You try to pull him into the shower with you.

“You want me to join you?” He asks, a nervous edge to his voice. You nod.

“Please. I don’t want to be alone in here with my thoughts.” You tell him, honestly. He gives you a sad smile before stripping down to his boxers and stepping into the shower behind you. Despite being naked in a shower with the man you’ve had a crush on for a year, you feel no need to make a move. You’re exhausted and scared and you just need his comfort right now. You hear a bottle opening and the squeezing of shampoo into Adrian’s hands. He begins to massage the shampoo into your hair. He’s so gentle and the way his finger nails scratch across your scalp feels euphoric. You feel like a rag doll, as Adrian moves your body in every which way to clean it. You don’t feel invaded. You feel quite the opposite, like you’re being well taken care of. His hands are soft and he smells incredible. You smile to yourself thinking you’ll smell like him too after using his soap. He hums to you as he washes you. It’s odd to think someone who kills people at night can be so gentle and loving.

After you shower he cleans and redresses your wound. He does all of this wordlessly. You don’t think you’ve ever heard Adrian so quiet. You hiss at the pain as he touches your wound to clean it.

“Let me know if I’m hurting you.” He instructs you.

“You could never hurt me.” You smile up at him.

“I definitely could.” He says, missing the point. You stare off into space trying to ignore his hands against your shoulder.

“Better?” He asks after your wound is covered again. You look up into his eyes and nod slowly. You get lost in his eyes, staring at each other. His green eyes seem to put you in a trance. Your faces are even, as the counter you’re sitting on makes you taller. Adrian is standing between your parted legs to have better access to your wound. You’re so close you can feel his breath on your skin. You think you might be drifting closer. You want to kiss him so badly. You think you might before Adrian turns his head away at the last second. A blush comes to both your cheeks. “I bet you’re tired. We should get you set up in my room. I’ll take the couch.” He says before exiting the bathroom. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding before following him.

You take a minute to yourself before walking into his bedroom to see a shirt and a pair of boxers laid out on the bed. He’s already changed, so you assume they’re for you.

“When I packed your bag I forgot to grab something for you to sleep in. Sorry.” He admits. You blush. That wasn’t the truth, but you didn’t need to know that. He hoped you wouldn’t catch onto the fact that he just wanted to see you safe, warm, and comfortable in his clothes.

“That’s okay. I don’t mind wearing your clothes.” You say quietly. The shirt was black, its design faded and the fabric was starting to grow pilly. This was obviously a very well loved shirt. You had seen Adrian wear it from time to time when he wasn’t in the Vigilante suit, which you saw him in the majority of the time. At one point you commented on how much you liked it. You remember him telling you it was one of his favorite shirts. What you didn’t know was that this is his absolute favorite shirt, his comfort shirt, the shirt he practically lives in when it is clean. Despite just seeing you naked, Adrian leaves the room for you to drop your towel and change. When he comes back in, he has a glass of ice water in his hands. You gladly take it. You gulp it down quickly, not realizing how thirsty you were. It’s probably from all of the crying. When you hand him back the glass he asks if you would like another. You politely decline.

“You should get some sleep.” He says, slowly backing out of the doorway.

“Are you sure you want me to sleep in your bed? I don’t want to kick you out.” You ask.

“Pshh of course. It’s nothing.” He says, trying to make light of sleeping on the couch.

“Well, nonetheless it means a lot.” You smile at him. You lay down on the bed before he flicks out the light and goes to shut the door. Your anxiety quickly grows in the dark, unfamiliar room.

“Wait!” You catch his attention. He opens the door and you watch the light cascade in again from the hallway.

“What’s wrong?” Adrian asks.

“Can you uh…” you drift off.

“Do you want me to lay with you again, like I did in the hospital?” He asks. You nod, sheepishly. “Uh- yeah.” Adrian nods, smiling. “I can do that.” He affirms, as he gets under the covers with you. At first Adrian is a little stiff. This is admittedly a weird situation. You’re not filled with all of the adrenaline that you were the first time. It takes a minute before you decide to place your head against his chest. He shifts awkwardly before putting his arm around you and pulling you tightly to his body. After you fall into a rhythm and it’s clear what the other person wants, you feel perfectly pressed together like two puzzle pieces. Adrian starts drawing circles on your arm. Between the steady motion, his heartbeat, and the rising and falling of his chest, you’re soothed to sleep. You feel him press a kiss to your forehead as you drift off.

[kp777]

By Brett Wilkins

Common Dreams

Sept. 14, 2023

"Citi is the world's second-largest financier of fossil fuels," noted one group taking part in the protest. "How do these people sleep at night? How?"

Declaring a #ClimateShutdown, hundreds of activists blockaded the entrances of Citibank's Lower Manhattan headquarters Thursday morning to demand that the financial giant end fossil fuel financing and stop greenwashing its record of planet-heating investments.

"We're shutting down Citibank, the world's second-largest funder of fossil fuels," the activist group Stop the Money Pipeline explained on X, the social platform formerly known as Twitter. "Citi says it's a climate leader, but it's also the main financier of oil expansion in the Amazon."

Jay Waxse of Climate Defiance told Common Dreams that 25 activists were arrested at the protest, including two of the group's organizers.

Citibank is "torching the planet," said Waxse, "so the least we can do is disrupt business as usual."

"Workers were talking. Executives were reeling," Waxse added. "Citi must change their ways, or we'll be back."

Another group, Climate Defiance, said sources informed it that "every door in the Citibank HQ has been shuttered" and that "the bank just went into lockdown over the climate protest."

"Thousands of bankers are now getting turned away, angry and confused," the group added, posting photos supporting its claim.

According to a report published earlier this month by a coalition of green groups, JPMorgan Chase ($434.2 billion), Citibank ($332.9 billion), Wells Fargo ($318.2 billion), and Bank of America ($281.2 billion) have been the world's biggest fossil fuel financiers since the Paris climate agreement took effect in 2016. Those four banks alone accounted for 28% of all identified fossil fuel financing in 2022.

Groups participating in or supporting Thursday's direct action include Oil & Gas Action Network, Stop the Money Pipeline, Climate Defiance, Climate Organizing Hub, Climate Defenders, Youth Climate Finance Alliance, and New York Communities for Chang

"Since the Paris agreement was adopted, Wall Street banks have provided $1.4 trillion to the fossil fuel industry," Stop the Money Pipeline's website explains. "Big asset managers are the world's largest investors in coal, oil, and gas. Insurance companies provide insurance for new fossil fuel projects without which they could not be built."

"The fossil fuel corporations driving the climate crisis depend on this support of the financial sector," the group added. "That's why we're pushing banks, insurance companies, and asset managers to end fossil financing. If we stop the flow of money, we stop the flow of oil."

Our work is licensed under Creative Commons (CC BY-NC-ND 3.0). Feel free to republish and share widely.

[remembertheplunge]

Riot downtown

“5/31/2020 Sunday 8:55pm

Riot downtown. Flash bombs. Tear gas cans hurtling through space over J Street. Rubber bullets whizzing by around 4:15pm. That’s what I was told. I was there. Per the Modesto Bee tonight, only concussion bombs were thrown.  I heard two of them go off.  One man thought that he got hit by tear gas. His eyes watered. No rubber bullets fired at me. The march included about 1000 people. Largley a quiet march. But, massive. People with “I can’t breath” and “Black Lives Matter” signs. The signs dotted McHenery Ave all the way from Standiford to downtown. Weather was cool and overcast. The experience was cathartic. The financial and criminal justice systems have failed. People hit the streets as a result. I wanted to see it. Mark Sullivan, today, said I’m Forest Gump. I’ve been through everything. I agree. This event was pandemic driven. I agree with Zoe. Civil unrest will explode along with the virus. It’s amazing the power those kids had to shut down downtown. Not many grey hairs out there. Mostly 20 somethings.”

End of entry.

Notes

I was headed home from the gym probably maybe around 2:30pm when I turned on to Mc Henery Ave and saw that it was jammed with cars moving slowly. As we slowly proceed closer to down town (it’s probably a mile and a half from Standiford Ave to downtown on McHenery) I saw the signs mentioned in the entry. I knew something was up downtown, so I had to go check it out. I had sought out other protest rallies in other towns before this . My friend Mojan was concerned that I might lose an eye to a rubber tipped bullet. He said I seek out trouble. I had that in mind when I parked on 12th street by the Wells Fargo Bank parking lot. From there I could see a line of police across 12th and J street about a quarter block away. Large cement barriers had been placed across road ways down two to block traffic if I remember right. I saw tear gas canisters being thrown back at the police. I head flash bombs going off. IAyoung man came running by me smiling and saying the police were shooting rubber tipped bullets. Heading Mojan’s warning, I got in my car and drove home.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

This day in history

Tonight (December 5), I'm at Flyleaf Books in Chapel Hill, NC, with my new solarpunk novel The Lost Cause, which 350.org's Bill McKibben called "The first great YIMBY novel: perceptive, scientifically sound, and extraordinarily hopeful."

#20yrsago Walt Disney’s FBI files https://memex.craphound.com/2003/12/06/walt-disneys-fbi-files/

#20yrsago Ska-anthem about duct tape https://web.archive.org/web/20031209020640/http://www.ducktapeclub.com/contests/roll/lyrics.asp?entryid=131

#15yrsago Britain’s “Great Firewall” set to restrict access to Wikipedia https://en.wikinews.org/wiki/British_ISPs_restrict_access_to_Wikipedia_amid_child_pornography_allegations

#15yrsago Workers in Argentina taking over dead factories and running them democratically https://www.newstatesman.com/long-reads/2007/08/argentina-workers-movement

#10yrsago https://memex.craphound.com/2013/12/06/what-nelson-mandelas-life-tells-us-about-the-legitimacy-of-democratic-nations/

#10yrsago Medieval kids’ birch-bark doodles https://erikkwakkel.tumblr.com/post/67681966023/medieval-kids-doodles-on-birch-bark-heres

#10yrsago Botnet of 20,000 point-of-sale machines https://arstechnica.com/information-technology/2013/12/credit-card-fraud-comes-of-age-with-first-known-point-of-sale-botnet/

#5yrsago Jamie Dimon is getting fed up with the protesters who “occupy” him everywhere he goes https://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/2018-12-03/wherever-dimon-goes-activists-turn-his-speeches-into-spectacles

#5yrsago Wells Fargo blames “computer glitch” for its improper foreclosure on 545 homes https://www.cbsnews.com/news/wells-fargo-loan-modification-error-homeowners-who-went-into-foreclosure-seek-answers/

#5yrsago The third annual AI Now report: 10 more ways to make AI safe for human flourishing https://web.archive.org/web/20181206184028/https://ainowinstitute.org/AI_Now_2018_Report.pdf

#5yrsago Europe’s biggest sports leagues and movie studios disavow #Article13, say it will give #BigTech even more control https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2018/12/letter-eu-european-film-companies-and-sports-leagues-disavow-article-13-say-it

#5yrsago On January 1, America gets its public domain back: join us at the Internet Archive on Jan 25 to celebrate https://creativecommons.org/2018/12/05/join-us-for-a-grand-re-opening-of-the-public-domain/

It's EFF's Power Up Your Donation Week: this week, donations to the Electronic Frontier Foundation are matched 1:1, meaning your money goes twice as far. I've worked with EFF for 22 years now and I have always been - and remain - a major donor, because I've seen firsthand how effective, responsible and brilliant this organization is. Please join me in helping EFF continue its work!

[heavencasteel420]

WIP Wednesday

From Tomorrow’s a Long Way Off (warning for discussion of “Down from Dover,” Dolly Parton’s horribly sad song about a stillbirth):

That was when Jonathan realized what was off. He’d grabbed the wrong tape. This wasn’t his punk mix or the new tape that Eric’s girlfriend’s roommate had gotten in the mail from her English pen pal. It was his mom’s country-and-western mix, the one he’d made for her birthday. It was Dolly Parton, singing about a poor pregnant girl whose boyfriend had abandoned her forever.

The hot black room faded away. Suddenly it was easier to breathe, to open his eyes and lift his head. He tried to recall if his mom had played the tape in the house recently, ignoring his and Will’s groans of protest. Maybe he’d listened to the English tape in her car, but he didn’t think so. He remembered her standing in the doorway of his bedroom, trying to place which girl group sang “Wounded.” She’d figured out that it was the Cookies, but only after guessing so many other groups that Will had chimed in with his own absurd suggestions: the Girdles, the Crustaceans, the Exorcists, the Ronalds.

Now Dolly Parton was on the last verse, the one where the baby was born dead and the girl finally realized that her boyfriend never would come down from Dover. Jonathan had general rules for putting together all mixtapes, like saving the two best songs for first and last, but he’d done something unusual for this one, mostly to entertain himself. He’d ranked the songs from saddest to happiest, and put them on the tape in that order. “Down from Dover” was the saddest, of course, so it was first. The last song was “Light of a Clear Blue Morning,” also by Dolly Parton. That was cheating a little, because “The Happiest Girl in the Whole U.S.A.” by Donna Fargo was definitely happier, but he’d wanted the symmetry. Plus, the point of the tape was catharsis, and “Light of a Clear Blue Morning” was way more dramatic.

But the tape had barely started. Bobbie Gentry was singing “Fancy,” which was only a little happier than “Down from Dover.” Yet the songs had already cleared a little space in Jonathan’s mind: a strange, tiny miracle, but he’d take it.

[a-method-in-it]

I went to the Queer Liberation March today in NYC, which is not a parade but a protest, with no corporate sponsors. And at a time when corporations are folding like little babies at moderate levels of right-wing blowback --- as we all always fucking knew they would --- it was good to remember that when no one else shows up for us, we show up for us. Queer Liberation will not be sponsored by Wells Fargo. Queer liberation will be brought about by people with homemade protest signs and furry suits and leather harnesses and tee shirts they have bejazzled to say DYKE

[skinnerhousebooks]

"After pipeline protests, Fargo author's new book offers a cultural critique on colonialism.

FARGO — Before the Dakota Access Pipeline (DAPL) protests began in 2016, Karen Van Fossan felt lonely, but she didn’t know why.

Before the controversy Van Fossan, a Unitarian Universalist minister living in Fargo, had a longing for an experience of wholeness in the human community.

"I had a certain kind of chronic loneliness that I now connect with my colonial culture, and its ways of isolating people and dehumanizing everyone in very different ways and very different extents,” she said.

Recently, she finished and published a book called A Fire at the Center: Solidarity, Whiteness, and Becoming a Water Protector, which is more than a memoir, but a cultural critique.

Read the complete article by C.S. Hagen in the Grand Forks Herald.

[lostlegendaerie]

First morning in Japan and I'm still digesting the media I consumed yesterday: Fargo, Thor: Love and Thunder, The Banshees of Inisherin, and the puppet comedy special Randy Writes A Novel. Looking at the cumulative "take home messages" of those stories, and viewing them in the context of just the previous day asking @heyprincessboy to do a Tarot reading for me regarding the general direction of my life is brutally targeted and on point. "Being kind and experiencing love, even if it hurts you at the end and even if your life feels insignificant accordingly, is better than being rich and famous."

It's something I've needed to hear, as this year has hit me with a lot of stuff ranging from the emotionally devastating (three pet deaths from trauma or accidents, the abrupt end of a ten year incredibly close friendship) to the physically painful (emergency cystectomy forcing the rescheduling of this trip by a week, three plus weeks of bronchitis resulting in sprained ribs) to the materially devastating (a projected 100k+ cost in fixing the leaking basement and crumbling foundation of my home) to say nothing of the exhaustion of being involved in queer positive political protests and community action. I've been asking myself, is it worth it? For everything I have given other people and for how little I take home at the end of the day, sleeping in an empty bed in an empty house, does my life matter?

It's easy to try and judge ourselves by accomplishments and big life events, tell ourselves we are winning or losing based on these metrics. But these things alone do not make a joyful life. My grandfather on my mother's side was a poor farmer in a large family during the Depression. He married my grandmother and had two children in a little house on the border between Ohio and Indiana and had a generally uneventful life; no book deals, no lottery wins, nothing of the sort. But he poured himself into his tiny community and volunteered so much of his time and his kindness that even now, a decade after his death, he is still missed by his friends and neighbors. His legacy is intangible because it was built on and rewarded with love, but that doesn't make it any less real.

So keep your head up out there, okay? Nurture those tender places in your heart that make you stop to pet a dog or hold a door for a stranger. It's worth it to be kind, I promise. And I'll keep loving things, too.

[whatevergreen]

San Francisco, Protest, and the Vietnam war:

"On May 5, 1971, thousands of protestors were determined to shut down the Financial District and to simultaneously expose the war-profiteering of numerous corporations with headquarters downtown. Office workers on their lunch breaks were herded and gassed just like the protestors who clogged the streets. Police on small motorcycles and on horseback repeatedly rode into groups of protestors and beat them with batons. Numerous serious injuries were inflicted, but demonstrators found some unexpected support when a corporate lawyer offered his services - he was horrified at the unprovoked violence the police meted out. Shell Oil, Chevron, Bank of America, Wells Fargo, Dow Chemical, Bechtel, Zellerbach Paper, and others were all besieged by protestors more than willing to point out the specific role each company was playing in supporting the war in Vietnam.

In 1974, a long campaign by sailors and their wives out of the Alameda Naval Air Station attempted to prevent the USS Coral Sea from sailing back to Vietnam. A number of sailors marched in anti-war demonstrations on Market Street under the banner SOS (Save our Ship, or Stop our Ship). This was the same year Nixon resigned the presidency, and the U.S. military was near collapse. Widespread mutiny and refusal to fight by the troops in Vietnam fed a generally seditious attitude among troops around the world. The United States was was bringing soldiers home as fast as it could. When it was obvious that a draft-based military was not reliable anymore, the government switched to a so-called Volunteer Army (read: economically conscripted).

For many decades, starting with Reagan's 1983 invasion of the tiny Caribbean island of Grenada and later the attack on Panama City, leading crucially to President George H. W. Bush's 1991 invasion of Kuwait and Iraq, the U.S. government has been trying to overcome the "Vietnam Syndrome". This refers to a population who, either out of principle or exhaustion, oppose wars of empire and conquest (and maybe wars in general!) and will resist. Finally, after 9/11 and the invasions of Afghanistan and Iraq in the twenty-first century, Americans have learned to live with perpetual war. The Vietnam Syndrome has been outflanked by war from afar conducted with airpower and unmanned drones and few boots on the ground. The tight control of press coverage with the complicity of major media companies has also prevented the mayhem and violence of war from being seen directly as it was during crucial years of the Vietnam War."

Chris Carlsson

from 'Hidden San Francisco', p208-209

[beardedmrbean]

Two of the six suspects charged with domestic terrorism after an anti-police protest turned violent in downtown Atlanta on Saturday night have been granted bond, according to local reports.

Both Ivan Ferguson, 23, of Nevada, and 20-year-old Graham Evatt of Decatur, Georgia, were given bond at $355,000 on Monday, FOX5 Atlanta reported. Evatt was the only suspect arrested who was from Georgia.

The four other suspects who were denied bond were Nadja Geier, 24, of Nashville, Tennessee; Madeleine Feola, 22, of Spokane, Washington; Francis Carrol, 22, of Kennebunkport, Maine; and Emily Murphy, 37, of Grosse Isle, Michigan.

Protests erupted Saturday in response to the death of 26-year-old environmental activist Manuel Esteban Paez Teran. 

ATLANTA ANTI-POLICE RIOTS HURT DOWNTOWN BUSINESSES, WORKERS' WALLETS, EMPLOYEES SAY

Teran was shot and killed by Georgia State Patrol after authorities said Teran shot and wounded a state trooper who was trying to clear protesters from the construction site of a new public safety training center dubbed by activists as "Cop City."

In the protest following Teran's death, masked activists dressed in all black threw rocks and lit fireworks in front of a skyscraper that houses the Atlanta Police Foundation, shattering large glass windows. They then lit a police cruiser on fire, smashed more windows and vandalized walls with anti-police graffiti as stunned tourists scattered.

ATLANTA DOMESTIC TERRORISM SUSPECTS SEEN SMILING OR STONE-FACED IN ANTI-POLICE RIOT BOOKING PHOTOS

Caution tape was also wrapped around several buildings, including a Wells Fargo location that suffered several broken windows, photos at the scene showed.

The six suspects arrested all face eight misdemeanor and felony charges.

The misdemeanor charges include pedestrian in a roadway, willful obstruction of a law enforcement officer, riot, and unlawful assembly. The felony counts include second-degree criminal damage, first-degree arson, interference with government property and domestic terrorism.