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[worm-serious-talks]

Honestly, it’s deeply depressing to be studying Law and to be fully aware of all the legally questionable things the president is already doing—and how so many of them are being normalized across the country.

What’s even worse is seeing regular people not only dismiss it, but actually defend or justify it like it’s nothing.

It’s disheartening to watch the rule of law being dismantled globally, crumbling before our eyes, and no one seems to care. To witness how, step by step, we’re heading straight into new forms of totalitarianism.

It’s hopeless. And the worst part is feeling like you see it coming, and still can’t do anything to stop it.

[worm-serious-talks]

Laying the Groundwork for Revolution: Breaking with the Logic of War

If we truly want a revolution, we have to start by dismantling the ideas that keep us from reaching it.

The belief that the struggle is mainly between us: between the poor, the oppressed, the working class. As if the enemy were beside us, not above us.

We need to destroy the idea of war between the exploited.

Not because there are no power dynamics among the oppressed. Not because privilege doesn’t exist. But because those privileges and those dynamics aren’t sustained by ordinary people—they’re manufactured, organized, and reproduced by a system designed to keep us divided.

It’s not about denying conflict. It’s about understanding where it comes from, who benefits from it, and how it's sustained.

Capitalism won’t fall because we’re fighting each other. It won’t collapse just because we shout louder than our neighbor. It won’t end by punching a cop in the street. That’s not to justify repression—the uniform is a tool of the system, and those who wear it do enact violence. But they’re still part of the working class.

No millionaire's child ends up on the front lines of state violence. Repression is carried out by other poor people. And that should tell us something.

I’m not saying we should embrace everyone. I’m not saying we should stay silent in the face of injustice. I’m saying that resistance must also involve construction. That fighting must be paired with thinking.

Violence can be a necessary tool. But it’s not the only one. And when it’s wielded without direction, without analysis, without strategy, it ends up aimed downward—at people just like us. And that’s exactly what the system wants.

A real revolution requires strategy. It requires awareness. It requires dialogue. It requires planting class consciousness even in places where it seems impossible. Because if we give up on those who still don’t see, we also give up on the possibility that they might. And if they don’t wake up, we will remain too few.

There can be no revolution if we keep reproducing the same logic as the system we want to destroy.

There is no true liberation if we believe our enemies look just like us.

Revolution begins when we stop fighting for scraps and start building power—together.

And that demands thinking with others, even with those who don't yet know they're on our side.

[worm-serious-talks]

You want to count the dead? Fine, let’s count the dead.

Once again, the right dusts off its old argument: “the victims of communism,” “the violence of the left,” “red dictatorships.” Always the same cynicism. As if human history wasn’t already drenched in blood… but blood spilled by capital.

So fine. You want to count the dead? Let’s count.

They throw the deaths of the USSR in our faces, as if that alone should shut down any discussion—without context, without analysis, without nuance. They bring up Latin American guerrillas, stripped of their historical roots: poverty, authoritarianism, the closure of democratic channels, brutal repression. They demonize those who rose up when democracy was either a sham or completely outlawed, and they exalt the executioners as heroes of “freedom.”

They blame us for the failures, mistakes, and authoritarianism of places like Venezuela or Cuba—but they stay silent about the decades-long economic blockade that chokes the island. They say nothing about the sanctions, interventions, coups, and sabotage. And when authoritarianism comes from a capitalist ally, suddenly it's no big deal. They don’t care about democracy—they care about preserving private property.

Want to count the dead? Let’s also count the ones from the U.S.-backed dictatorships in Latin America. The ones from Operation Condor, from state terrorism, from the Doctrine of National Security. The 30,000 disappeared in Argentina. The mass graves. The stolen babies.

The bombs dropped on Plaza de Mayo in 1955, killing over 300 people and injuring hundreds more. The massacres of workers: in Patagonia, during the Tragic Week, the executions at José León Suárez. Are we sweeping all that under the rug too?

Shall we count those murdered by the police in so-called democracies? The kids shot in the back in poor neighborhoods? The deaths in jails, police stations, and slums? The assassinations of labor, environmental, indigenous, and grassroots leaders?

Let’s go further. Let’s count the deaths caused by fascism—yes, fascism, that nationalist, racist, clerical, and profoundly anti-communist movement.

Let’s count the millions who died in wars for resources: Vietnam, Iraq, Syria, Libya. Wars launched by major powers, with millions of civilian casualties.

Let’s count the famines caused by colonial plunder, the silenced genocides in Africa, Asia, and the Middle East.

Let’s also include those who die from extractivism, systemic hunger, and healthcare systems that let people die if they can’t pay. Those capitalism kills without firing a single shot: through malnutrition, preventable diseases, eviction, and precarity.

Let’s not forget the victims of hate crimes: LGBTQ+ people, racialized communities, migrants.

The assassinated leftist and popular leaders: Salvador Allende, Che Guevara, Berta Cáceres, Martin Luther King Jr...

And the ethnic cleansing happening in plain sight today, in Palestine.

Now, let me be clear: I hate this macabre game of counting corpses. I don’t think it’s a valid argument. I don’t believe an idea —especially one born from the desire to build a less unjust world— should be dismissed based on the bloodshed in its history. Because human history itself is painted red. Because every form of power, every system, every attempt to change the world has come wrapped in conflict, mistakes, and tragedy.

But if you insist on playing this game, I won’t stay silent. And if we’re going to count the dead, then let’s count them all.

Because we are not the ones with the most to hide.

[worm-serious-talks]

As some of you may have already noticed from my posts, I’m a law student currently in the middle of my second year. And while I still have a lot to learn, I already have a clear sense of where I want to go with my studies and my future practice: the defense of human rights, both at the domestic and international levels.

Alongside my university courses, I’ve been taking part in workshops and other complementary training spaces focused on this topic. But there’s something else that matters just as much to me: making basic human rights knowledge more accessible to others, especially those who don’t have a legal background but still ask questions, engage in debates, resist injustice — and often face misleading or outright false narratives about what human rights are (and are not).

Because there’s a lot of misinformation out there — and much of it is deliberate. In certain political sectors, there’s a push to associate human rights with impunity, corruption, or the idea that they only serve to “defend criminals.” That is not only false — it’s a reactionary discourse aimed at discrediting one of the most important tools we have to defend human dignity, particularly for those facing persecution, exclusion, or systemic violence.

That’s why, in the coming weeks, I’ll be sharing a series of short and accessible posts on different key human rights topics. Not from a place of authority, but from the perspective of a student who’s committed to learning and who believes that sharing what we learn is part of the fight.

—

Here are some of the topics I plan to cover:

History and origins of human rights: how and why did they emerge?

Myths and misconceptions: dismantling the narrative that human rights only “protect criminals.”

Basic concepts and interpretive approaches: what are human rights, and how should they be understood?

International treaties and conventions: state obligations and the legal force of international agreements.

Universal and regional protection systems: how they work, what they do. The UN vs. the Inter-American system.

The Inter-American Commission and Court of Human Rights: their roles, advisory opinions, periodic reports, and landmark rulings. (Also: formal and material sources of international human rights law.)

Human rights in Argentina: past and present challenges.

The Trial of the Military Juntas and public policies on memoria, verdad, y justicia.

Judicial and criminal guarantees: the right to due process and its democratic importance.

Arbitrary detentions and unlawful deprivation of liberty.

And other related issues: access to justice, non-discrimination, etc, etc.

—

((Just to clarify: I’ll be focusing primarily on the Inter-American human rights system (the IACHR and Inter-American Court), because —personally— I have greater respect for that system than for the UN's, which often operates with a clear double standard. Besides, being made up of Latin American countries, the Inter-American system feels much more relevant and connected to our regional cultures, struggles, and realities.))

—

If any of this resonates with you, feel free to stick around. And if you have questions, input, or critiques, they’re more than welcome. This isn’t a lecture — it’s an invitation to think together.

[worm-serious-talks]

I fully support the anti-ICE uprisings in the United States.

And no, I don’t care if they’re called violent.

I don’t care if people say they “make Trump look right” or that they’re “hurting their own cause.”

What exactly do you expect from a community that is systematically persecuted, deported, criminalized, and silenced?

What other options are left when facing a state agency that cages children, separates families, denies due process, and violates basic human rights with absolute impunity?

ICE is not an “immigration service.” It’s a structure of racial persecution and social control—serving white supremacy and capital. It deports people even if they’re working, even if they’re in the process of regularizing their status, even if they’ve done nothing wrong. It deports because it can. Because its role is to spread fear among the undocumented. And it does all of that while denying interpreters, access to legal defense, or even basic understanding of what's happening to the people it targets.

How do you defend yourself when you’re not even allowed to understand what’s being said to you?

And even with all this, some people sit comfortably and condemn those who rise up.

Because they break windows. Because they torch a van. Because they fight back against state agents.

Do you really expect people who are treated as disposable to fight back using the very same rules that oppress them?

And yes, let’s be smart—sometimes the state infiltrates protests. It provokes, manipulates, and uses these tactics to discredit entire movements. But precisely because of that, we have to stop condemning every act of defiance or anger as if it were automatically wrong.

Struggles for dignity don’t ask for permission.

Migrants have the right to defend themselves.

They have the right to rebel.

They have the right to refuse to be silent victims.

Rejecting the system also means rejecting the system’s standards for what “legitimate protest” looks like.

Because, at the end of the day, what the system truly fears isn’t violence—it’s disobedience.

[worm-serious-talks]

Sobre la elección de jueces por voto

Miren que yo soy el primero en criticar al Poder Judicial. Está plagado de privilegios, roscas internas y complicidades con los sectores más reaccionarios del poder. Nadie que entienda mínimamente cómo funciona puede negar que está lleno de corrupción estructural. Pero de ahí a proponer que la solución es elegir jueces y fiscales por voto popular… eso me parece un horror.

La idea suena bien a primera vista, claro. Democracia directa, mayor control ciudadano, transparencia. Pero lo cierto es que lo que hoy ocurre en la oscuridad —las alianzas políticas, los favores cruzados, los pactos partidarios— pasaría a hacerse a plena luz del día. Con carteles, spots, campañas, financiamiento y todo el aparato electoral funcionando para transformar aún más la justicia en un campo de especulación política.

Con la Corte Suprema, si querés, te la discuto. Es el tribunal más importante del país y, efectivamente, hace años que dejó de ser neutral para convertirse en un jugador más dentro del tablero político. Pero ¿jueces y fiscales de instancias inferiores? ¿De juzgados locales, tribunales orales, cámaras civiles o penales? No. Eso es premiar la rosca, institucionalizar la influencia partidaria y legitimar una justicia más oportunista que nunca.

Lo que va a pasar es lo que ya pasa, pero peor: todos los jueces con el mismo apellido, los mismos vínculos, las mismas lealtades políticas. Solo que ahora lo harán con total impunidad y bajo la excusa de tener “legitimidad democrática”. Además de que nos encontraremos con el problema de que los fallos serán emitidos en favor de lo que de más votos o más lazos políticos.

La justicia necesita reforma, sí. Pero no necesita más marketing ni campañas electorales. Necesita mecanismos de control reales y, sobre todo, un cambio profundo en la estructura de poder que sostiene su funcionamiento clasista y elitista.

No más circo.

Los funcionarios judiciales deben ser elegidos en base a sus conocimientos y trayectoria en el campo. Y lamentablemente, la gente comun no sabe lo suficiente sobre derecho como para que esto pueda darse.

Como dije, el poder judicial se tiene que reformar, el consejo de la magistratura también.

Pero el voto popular no es la forma adecuada de hacerlo, por lo menos eso creo yo.

[worm-serious-talks]

Argentina: The Supreme Court confirms the sentence against CFK.

Cristina Fernández de Kirchner—former president, former vice president, and the main leader of the opposition in Argentina—has just had her conviction upheld by the Supreme Court. This isn't just a legal matter; it’s a political earthquake.

I haven’t had the chance yet to dive deeply into the legal file to give a detailed juridical analysis, but what I can say is that many legal scholars and professionals have flagged serious irregularities in the process. I’ve heard arguments ranging from potential violations of non bis in idem (being tried twice for the same act), to accusations that she was sentenced based on "author's liability by omission"—a concept that’s not only legally questionable but also lacks strong precedent in Argentine criminal law.

But what strikes me most is not only the sentence itself, but what it reveals about Argentina’s judicial system—especially its highest court. The Supreme Court has long been viewed as politically compromised, but this case lays it bare.

There are only three justices currently active on the Court. It’s a court that once accepted judges appointed by presidential decree—an unconstitutional move that was eventually rejected by Congress. This same Court routinely turns a blind eye to the executive branch's abuses of power via unconstitutional emergency decrees. There is no real commitment to the separation of powers, and no shame in using the judiciary as a tool for political control.

CFK has been sentenced to six years in prison (house arrest) and permanently disqualified from holding public office. Permanently. Not even the worst democratically elected presidents in Argentina—some of whom ended their terms with blood in the streets—received that kind of punishment.

To make it worse, media outlets knew the Court’s decision before it was officially announced. That alone should raise every red flag. It’s a political maneuver, and a clumsy one. An open attempt to ban the most influential and visible face of the opposition from the political arena.

This ruling, along with a series of other repressive actions this government is taking against political activists and movements, is disturbing. It seems part of a broader campaign not just against individuals—but against an entire political tradition. A project to erase Peronism itself.

And if history teaches us anything in Argentina, it’s that proscription never silences a movement—it only makes it stronger.

[worm-serious-talks]

yo hablando con otros peronistas/zurdos: tengo complejas opiniones y severas críticas a CFK más allá de su legado

yo hablando con gorilas:

(estas cosas no son incompatibles)

[worm-serious-talks]

Breaking news: In the last few minutes the Gaza Freedom Flotilla ship the "Madleen", crewed by twelve volunteers and carrying aid to Gaza, has be intercepted in international waters by Israeli forces.

After jamming radio communications and GPS, and having quadcopters drop a white substance onto the ship, Israel has now arrested everyone aboard. What happens next to the crew of twelve remains to be seen.

The names of those arrested are:

Baptiste Andre (France)

Greta Thunberg (Sweden)

Suayb Ordu (Turkey)

Mark van Rennes (Netherlands)

Omar Faiad (France)

Pascal Maurieras (France)

Reva Viard (France)

Rima Hassan (France)

Sergio Torbio (Spain)

Yanis Mhamdi (France)

Yasemin Acar (Germany)

The world needs to be watching what is happening.

[worm-serious-talks]

greta thunberg and 11 others on the flotilla carrying aid to gaza have been kidnapped by the israeli government in international waters.

[worm-serious-talks]

Dios mío, qué tarada que es Lemoine. Perdón por decirlo así, pero no hay otra forma.

La mina cobra como diputada y se cree con derecho a decirles a los médicos cuánto deberían ganar. Encima se queja de que "ya cobran más que un jubilado". ¡Boluda! ¡Vos cobrás veinte veces más que un jubilado! ¡Y se siguen aumentando el sueldo!

La plata para ellos, los jubilados, tendría que salir de los sueldos de ustedes, los políticos. No de los médicos.

Es una gueca sin dos neuronas para hacer sinapsis. Y lo digo siendo feminista, que el feminismo me perdone pero esta mina claramente llegó donde está por acostarse con el tipo correcto o por su apariencia física.

Y eso que antes tenía la (leve) esperanza de que simplemente estaba actuando de “rubia tonta” para agradarles a los pajines libertarios. Pero no. Es así nomás. Es lo que hay.

Y ya estoy harto de hacer de cuenta que no. Claramente interpreta —o es— esa caricatura hueca pero “linda” que tanto les calienta a los conservas.

[worm-serious-talks]

I don’t want inclusion

I don't want to be included.

Because inclusion means the system was never built for me.

And I refuse to keep asking permission to exist within a structure that left me out from the start.

I don’t want to be included because that puts the final word in your hands.

As if my existence needed to be validated on your terms, by your rules, through your comfort.

As if I had to earn my place.

As if being visible meant staying quiet, staying polite.

I don’t want inclusion if what you’re offering is just a seat at a table where everything has already been decided.

Where I’m welcome only as long as I don’t disrupt, don’t challenge, don’t question what’s wrong.

Where respect depends on how well I play by your rules.

I’m not interested in fitting into a system that only tolerates me when I stay in line.

Because the moment we speak up, the moment we say the problem is structural—that exclusion isn’t a glitch but a design—we’re called dramatic.

Difficult. Accused of wanting special treatment.

I don’t want to be included if that means swallowing my rage, softening my voice, lowering my head.

If it means my right to exist hangs on how others like me behave.

If I have to stay quiet so I don’t ruin it for the rest.

I don’t want your inclusion.

Because it’s fragile. Arbitrary. Conditional.

Because it depends on whether someone like you decides I’m acceptable.

Because it can be taken away the moment I stop being convenient.

I want something else. I want a new system.

One that doesn’t rely on exclusion to survive.

One that doesn’t force anyone into a single mold to be seen.

One where I don’t have to earn respect or beg to be human.

I don’t want to be included.

Because I already exist.

Whether you recognize me or not.

And I’m not going to ask you for permission to be.

I don’t want inclusion.

I want justice. I want change.

I want a revolution that dismantles everything—not a seat at a table that only welcomes me if I behave.

[worm-serious-talks]

Happy Pride Month!! 🏳️‍🌈 🏳️‍⚧️

Happy Pride Month to all LGBTIQ+ people!

The community is not whole if even one of its letters is missing. The collective only makes sense when it’s built on unity, inclusion, and the recognition of every identity that forms it.

Let this month be not only a celebration, but also a time for struggle and reclaiming our rights. We must fiercely defend the victories we’ve achieved and keep fighting for those that are still denied to us.

A person’s dignity is not up for negotiation. We are not a problem to be fixed, nor the cause of any economic instability. We exist, we resist, and we are an essential part of every society.

In times when some want to drag us backward—when hate speech grows louder and attempts to silence us become more aggressive—it’s more urgent than ever to speak up.

Let’s celebrate, yes, but also defend every member of our community tooth and nail. Because without justice for all, there can be no true pride.

Pride is struggle.

Pride is resistance.

Pride is existence.

❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

[worm-serious-talks]

Reaching the Police Is Necessary for a Real Revolution

This is not a defense of the police.

It's not about justifying repression or romanticizing the uniform.

And it’s definitely not about turning the other cheek while you're getting beaten.

This is about strategy. Politics. Class.

The left chants “ACAB” like it’s enough. Hating the police is emotionally satisfying—it gives us moral clarity. But it also traps us in the very logic the system wants: the poor hating the poor.

Because the kid who joins the force out of necessity, the one who thought he could “help” or just needed a stable income, he’s also part of the working class. He’s also exploited, used, and discarded. They send him into the roughest neighborhoods, expose him to violence, teach him to hate, break him down from above. He becomes a weapon against his own people.

And when he walks the streets in uniform, what does he face? Contempt. Hatred. Which only confirms what he’s been taught: the people are the enemy.

That’s where the system wins. It strengthens his loyalty to power.

That’s why I say: reaching the police is necessary for a real revolution.

Not out of na��veté. Not out of hippie peace fantasies.

But out of strategy. Out of class consciousness.

That cop has more in common with the kid he's ordered to beat than with the commissioner who gave the order.

He just doesn’t know it.

We have to make him see it.

To make him doubt. Crack. Feel guilt.

To see a human being where he was trained to see a threat.

How? Through connection.

Bring him to the community kitchen. Let him see what life is like in the neighborhood.

Show him that the so-called “slum” is full of care, solidarity, real love—not chaos.

Let him meet the people he’s being trained to repress.

That’s also organizing.

That’s also revolution.

That’s also how we sabotage the repressive machine.

Revolution isn’t just built with stones.

It’s also built through cracks.

And a cop who begins to think differently is a crack in the system.

I’m not saying we should trust them.

I’m saying we need to break the endless cycle of poor vs. poor.

To plant seeds of class consciousness.

To weaken the system from the inside.

The cop is just a soldier in someone else’s war. And like any soldier, he can dismount.

But someone has to speak to him first.

Someone has to reach him.

[worm-serious-talks]

Rebuilding Collective Struggles

We've been taught to distrust those who fight.

To believe that if someone defends a cause, they must be getting paid for it.

That every demand is a tantrum, every right won is an unfair privilege.

We're told the law treats everyone equally. That if you don’t have something, it’s because you didn’t work hard enough. That if someone else does have it, it’s because they’re being handed something.

But that’s a lie. It’s not real. That “equality” is a fiction designed to maintain the status quo.

Capitalism doesn’t just exploit. It divides.

It pushes us to compete with each other, to fight over crumbs, to believe that the problem is the other poor person who “gets more.”

And that’s how the trap is set:

Why do they have what I don’t?

Instead of asking:

Why don’t we all have it?

When one group achieves even a small win, they’re not celebrated — they’re attacked. And when another group demands the same, they’re pitted against the first.

Divide and rule. Fragment to control.

Make us fight over rights, instead of fighting for them, together.

This logic of constant suspicion — that demonizes protest, questions activists, discredits anyone who receives state support — serves one purpose only: to uphold the current economic order.

That’s why rebuilding collective struggles isn’t just a goal — it’s an urgent necessity.

We must tear down the barriers that have been placed between our causes. We must recognize that every struggle that comes from below deserves solidarity. We must build bridges where the system has built walls.

And we must face something uncomfortable:

Many of the people in law enforcement come from the same background as those they repress.

The street cop, the border patrol, the foot soldier — they often come from the same neighborhoods, the same underfunded schools, the same economic hardship.

Yes, they fulfill a role that serves power.

Yes, they are trained to repress and to fear their own people.

But they are not part of the elite. They’re just as disposable to the system as everyone else. Like soldiers in someone else's war.

Breaking the cycle of infighting among the oppressed means understanding this contradiction. Not to excuse repression, but to aim higher.

The enemy isn’t the person standing across from you in the protest.

It’s the ones above.

Orchestrating scarcity.

Managing hatred.

Strategically isolating every struggle.

So let’s be clear: Rebuilding collective struggles is the first step toward any real revolution.

We need to stop fighting each other. Recognize one another. Organize.

Understand that no one gets free alone.

And this system won’t collapse from isolated speeches or fragmented causes.

It will fall through unity, through strategy, through political consciousness and grassroots organization.

From the bottom. From the collective.

[worm-serious-talks]

What the hell did trans people ever do to society? Why do they treat us worse than genocidal criminals? Seriously, people can be truly disgusting. Not even in death do they let trans people rest in peace.

This isn't just a lack of empathy anymore—it's being a shitty human being.

[worm-serious-talks]

Faced with the advance of power, the people must rise up

With these new restrictions on the right to strike, there’s no more time to waste. Decree 340/2025 is a clear sign of how far they’re willing to go to strip away our rights, to silence our voices, to crush our collective power.

We can’t just sit back and wait for the CGT or any union leadership to decide when and how to react. If they don’t call for a strike, we have to force them to do it. We have to put pressure on them, demand that they step up. Because this fight isn’t about a handful of leaders sitting in offices – this fight belongs to all of us.

The power, the real power lies with the people – with every worker, every laborer, every student, every unemployed person. Our collective strength is what makes the system tremble.

Let’s be clear: this decree is unconstitutional, but we can’t just rely on legal channels. Sure, it’s important to fight in the courts, to prove that we’re right under the law. But while we wait for a slow and unreliable justice system – one that often serves the interests of the powerful – they move forward with their attacks.

We can’t let that happen. We can’t sit around waiting for legal decisions while they strip away our fundamental rights. And we know better than to expect Congress to do anything – they won’t.

Our response must be firm: a massive strike, a general strike, people in the streets, collective disobedience.

We must not accept or obey unjust laws, no matter if they’re written on paper, no matter if they carry the signature of a president or a judge. If the system doesn’t recognize our rights, then we shouldn’t recognize the system. Following unjust laws means playing by the oppressor’s rules. It means accepting the chains they’re trying to put on us.

That’s why the only way to fight back against this attack is through massive resistance in the streets, a strike, direct action. This isn’t just a fight for formal workers – everyone needs to be part of this: students, the unemployed, informal workers, retirees. All of us, because we are the people, and sooner or later we all become part of this labor market they’re trying to exploit even further.

History teaches us that rights are never given freely – they are won through struggle. Every right we have today was won through collective sacrifice, through blood, sweat, and fight.

Now, faced with this brutal attack, we can’t give an inch. The only response is mass mobilization, a strike, and active resistance.

The people must rise up – and they must do it now.