lovelyandbrown:

grandmasterbooty:

Distressing Video Captures EXACTLY How Cops Treat Black People

I had to reblog this again because it just reduced me to tears. 

As most of you know, I am an attorney. And I am an attorney licensed in Minnesota. This is the state where I took an oath last year to uphold state and federal laws and to protect the rights of the citizens.

It PAINS me to see this. To see these unjust cops who I for all intents & purposes, have to stand along side. When they are abusing EVERY SINGLE OUNCE of POWER. Minneapolis/St. Paul have BEEN a war zone. I’m ashamed. I’m embarrassed.

Not all officers are bad. Please don’t let that be the take away. But police brutality is VERY FUCKING REAL. 

Watch this. If this doesn’t move you, if this doesn’t make you cry out in agony and want to change the world, I don’t know what will.

[trigger warning]

Jesus.

(via ttfkagb)

majiinboo:

  • Do not forget Michael Brown
  • Do not forget how the media dehumanized him and tried to justify his murder
  • Do not forget how peaceful protests were painted as savage riots
  • Do not forget police armed with military grade weapons terrorized and arrested black civilians
  • Do not forget Darren Wilson being awarded over $200,000 in fundraiser donations for murdering an unarmed black child
  • Do not forget that this system was not built to defend [us], but to control [us]
  • Do not forget Ferguson 

(via talix18)

writeworld:

Writer’s Block
A picture says a thousand words. Write them.
Mission: Write a story, a description, a poem, a metaphor, a commentary, or a critique about this picture. Write something about this picture.
Be sure to tag writeworld in your block!

Trees on one side. Trees on the other side. Forgot the milk. Are those my shoes? She is wearing my shoes. 
Tony stopped. If he could be perfectly still…just for one moment.
No. I am wearing my shoes. Shoes. Shows. Shoes.
He sighed. He stopped to tilt his head backward and look for the sun. 
Julia turned at the noise of his absent footsteps. “Lord Almighty, Tony, we’re late already.” 
He ducked his head and followed her. 
Late. Already late.
She was talking, but the words were going the wrong way. Her voice would arrive before they would, pointed as they were. 
Her hair was white now. Was it before? Julia. Juliet. A kiss. Already late. 
"I don’t want to go," he said.
She pulled at her bag the way women do. She didn’t stop. What’s in the bag? 
"What’s in the bag?" he asked out loud.
Her white hair shuffled from side to side as she shook her head. 
"What’s in the bag?" he asked again.
She turned. Her hair is white. “His effects are in the bag, Tony. I’m not having this conversation again just because your head keeps dumping it out.”
Special effects. Personal effects. Facts. Where are my shoes?
"I’m going to Stella’s," she said. "The boys are already home from school and we are late." 
"Your face is wet."
She twisted away from him, a bird in flight.

writeworld:

Writer’s Block

A picture says a thousand words. Write them.

Mission: Write a story, a description, a poem, a metaphor, a commentary, or a critique about this picture. Write something about this picture.

Be sure to tag writeworld in your block!

Trees on one side. Trees on the other side. Forgot the milk. Are those my shoes? She is wearing my shoes. 

Tony stopped. If he could be perfectly still…just for one moment.

No. I am wearing my shoes. Shoes. Shows. Shoes.

He sighed. He stopped to tilt his head backward and look for the sun. 

Julia turned at the noise of his absent footsteps. “Lord Almighty, Tony, we’re late already.” 

He ducked his head and followed her. 

Late. Already late.

She was talking, but the words were going the wrong way. Her voice would arrive before they would, pointed as they were. 

Her hair was white now. Was it before? Julia. Juliet. A kiss. Already late

"I don’t want to go," he said.

She pulled at her bag the way women do. She didn’t stop. What’s in the bag? 

"What’s in the bag?" he asked out loud.

Her white hair shuffled from side to side as she shook her head. 

"What’s in the bag?" he asked again.

She turned. Her hair is white. “His effects are in the bag, Tony. I’m not having this conversation again just because your head keeps dumping it out.”

Special effects. Personal effects. Facts. Where are my shoes?

"I’m going to Stella’s," she said. "The boys are already home from school and we are late." 

"Your face is wet."

She twisted away from him, a bird in flight.

He was already dead when I walked though the door.

writeworld:

Writer’s Block


In one sentence is the spark of a story. Ignite.

Mission: Write a story, a description, a poem, a metaphor, a commentary, or a memory about this sentence. Write something about this sentence.

Be sure to tag writeworld in your block!

****************************

"He was already dead when I walked through the door."

"Again. Yain’t convincing."

"He was already dead when I walked through the door.”

"Jesus T, you sound like you’re tryin to convince yourself, girl.”

"He was already dead. When I walked in. He was already lyin there, dead."

"Better. Better. You gotta stop now or you’ll sound rehearsed. You got the money?"

"Yeah, but Parker took half."

"No matter, Sweets, it’s okay. Look, you go bury that, you hear? With a whole foot of dirt on top, too, you don’t want it comin up in the rain. When you’re done, you call 911. Work fast. Cry. The more you shake and fuss, the less they look at you."

"Parker took half, Blue. Half. For what? For nothin. For not a damn thing.”

"T, you gotta just let that go now. Parker’s gotta live with that, that’s a mistake he’ll face down the road. You do you, T. This is big, girl, this is your life and your death and your incarceration. Do not pass go. Bury the money, call the cops, cry and wail, you got it?"

"Yeah. Yeah. Okay B. Yeah."

"I’m goin in. You give me fifteen and I’ll be at the station when you call, okay? It should take you that long to bury the money. Don’t forget to wash under your nails after."

"Yeah. I will. B, is your car outside? Won’t they—"

"There’s a patrol car out there every damn day, T, no one’s even going to notice."

"Okay. Yeah. Okay."

"Now go.”

In general, I think we need to move away from the premise that being a good person is a fixed immutable characteristic and shift towards seeing being good as a practice. And it is a practice that we carry out by engaging with our imperfections. We need to shift towards thinking that being a good person is like being a clean person. Being a clean person is something you maintain and work on every day. We don’t assume ‘I am a clean person therefore I don’t need to brush my teeth.’ When someone suggests to us that we have something stuck in our teeth we don’t say to them ‘What do you mean I have something stuck in my teeth—but I’m a clean person?!’

Jay Smooth, “How I learned to stop worrying and love discussing race” (via ttfkagb)

ETA: I hadn’t seen this video, even though it’s several years old. It’s fantastic.

(via ttfkagb)

I’m trying to build a stronger everyday writing habit, and am working on practicing with some measure of accountability. I’ll probably be putting little pieces of practice writing here because I’m too lazy to start yet another tumblr. tumblr savior: “ackbwrites” if you—understandably—don’t want to encounter that shit. 

kelsium:

lorettalove:

kelsium basically?

New policy for men in feminism discussions: come with pizza or don’t come at all.

kelsium:

lorettalove:

kelsium basically?

New policy for men in feminism discussions: come with pizza or don’t come at all.

It’s all Michael Jackson all the time in the office today.

rosalarian:

pourquoi-nutmeg:

nortonism:

The thing about this is that sculptures like these in art history were for the male gaze. Photoshop a phone to it and suddenly she’s seen as vain and conceited. That’s why I’m 100% for selfie culture because apparently men can gawk at women but when we realize how beautiful we are we’re suddenly full of ourselves…

YES.

Girls don’t let anyone tell you loving yourself is vanity.

rosalarian:

pourquoi-nutmeg:

nortonism:

The thing about this is that sculptures like these in art history were for the male gaze. Photoshop a phone to it and suddenly she’s seen as vain and conceited. That’s why I’m 100% for selfie culture because apparently men can gawk at women but when we realize how beautiful we are we’re suddenly full of ourselves…

YES.

Girls don’t let anyone tell you loving yourself is vanity.

(via ttfkagb)

Ok, I finally got the chance to watch the Beyoncé VMA performance and it was as great as expected, but what’s up with all the people in the audience trying to look cooler than thou? Jesus, people, if you aren’t singing and dancing when Beyoncé is a hundred feet away, your ass should be taking. fucking. notes.