Christian café

Wie is de Mol?

2013.01.03 13:59 huffy83 Wie is de Mol?

De subreddit voor 'Wie is de Mol?' Nederland en 'De Mol' Vlaanderen.
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2020.10.23 21:02 Heinrik- Panda and the wild animals vs TotallyNotReal Christian Bale vs TotallyNotReal Matt Damon for... doing something I guess maybe idk

Folks, as some of you might be aware a case hit KarmaCourt last week where u/InevitableBreadfruit accused u/zklein12345 for profiting off of false information provided about endangered wild animals and the number of pixels in each picture yada yada. Serious, innit? The trial went on as usual until, it did not. The case took an interesting turn of events when the defense lead by u/Niviso accused the prosecution of conspiring to get TotallyNotReal Matt Damon out of the courtroom so that his ex-boyfriend, TotallyNotReal Christian Bale, could come in and murder the wild animals attending the trial. Got it? TotallyNotReal Christian Bale, wild animals, TotallyNotReal Matt Damon. Easy.
So these animals were, a Bengal Tiger, a Black Rhino, a Green Sea Turtle, and a Panda. Their miniature figurines were also present in the courtroom which the prosecution had brought with them for no particular reason because they're very smart. To this some might ask: "Hey! Wild animals aren't allowed in a courtroom". To which some others might say: "SHUT UP!". While some other totally not retarded people might go on to say: "HEY! They might be animals but that doesn't mean they aren't humans!"
Folks, this is the case of the weekend. The Weekend. You don't wanna miss it. There will be 3 prosecutions in this case. That's right. Not one, not two, not four, not one million. Three. 3. 3/Three prosecutions a threesome
This is how it'll go: Prosecution A, representing TotallyNotReal Matt Damon, will accuse Prosecution B of lying, attempting to kill/murdemassacre wild animals, and karma whoring and will try to prove that they are on Prosecution C's side which Prosecution C will defiantly deny. How does karma whoring come into this? We don't know. That's for Prosecution A to prove.
Prosecution B, representing TotallyNotReal Christian Bale, will accuse Prosecution A of lying, stealing (wild animals) and karma whoring. They will also go on to accuse Prosecution C of being 'fake news'. Now, you might ask how does karma whoring come into this? The answer is: We don't know. That's for Prosecution B to prove.
And now we come to Prosecution C, representing Panda and the wild animals. This prosecution is special because it will comprise of wild animals and their lawyer has to be a wild animal. You can be any wild animal you like (bacteria and micro organisms not included). This prosecution will accuse Prosecutions A and B of killing and abducting wild animals and ofc, karma whoring. Now, you might ask how does karma whoring come into this? Folks, we don't know. That's for Prosecution C to prove.
We will need a judge ofc. The judge will need to properly identify themselves, what they are, etc. (For example- a Samsung washer-dryer). The judge cannot be a human or a wild animal or someone who works in Hollywood. Yes, they can be a fish.
As of now the positions of Prosecutions A and B are occupied by u/Niviso and u/Heinrik- respectively but they will require help because this is the case of The Weekend.
The Panda, Bengal Tiger, Green Sea Turtle, and Black Rhino are required to be present in the courtroom during the trial. We will also require someone to be TotallyNotReal Christian Bale and TotallyNotReal Matt Damon.
Some Evidence from previous trial:
EXHIBIT A: The couple in happier times. They were in a relationship before but now no more. The reason for their separation is not entirely clear. Some say Christian got hit on the head one day and went on a killing spree. Matt got sick of it and left him and went on to become an activist. But that is just a rumour.
EXHIBIT B: The couple now separated.
EXHIBIT C: TotallyNotReal Matt Damon seen walking out of the court with the panda in previous trial.
EXHIBIT D: The defense's claim of them seeing Christian walking towards the court.
EXHIBIT E: The prosecution's claim that Christian sent them this pic of him sitting in a café during the trial.
It is to be noted that the evidence provided above is mostly irrelevant. The onus of providing fresh evidence is upon respective prosecutions.
Prosecution A: u/Niviso, u/seethepositiveside, u/Physical_Flatworm512
Prosecution B: u/Heinrik-
Prosecution C: u/TheManWhoIsNotHere Smeagol the Legal Eagle esq.
Judge: u/ThisIsanAlt0117 (identifies as an emergency attack velociraptor, the last of his kind)
TotallyNotReal Christian Bale: u/Rou2_Rambo
TotallyNotReal Matt Damon: u/TNRMattDamon
Jizzard (Judge's Lizzard): brian56537
KarmaCourt's Official Hot Dog Vendor: u/poulet_bleu
Red panda in the audience who is using the trial of the weekend to get up my only fans subs: u/brown_booty_bandit
Guillotine guy: rocketboi1505
TotallyNotReal Donald Trump: TNRDonaldTrump
TotallyNotReal Johnny Depp: u/TNRJohnnyDepp
submitted by Heinrik- to KarmaCourt [link] [comments]


2020.10.20 20:55 Ruluba91 Ideas for popular apologetics setting

I'm working as a theologian in the Netherlands, assisting a new church full of young people. There is an outspoken need for clear speech on what we believe and on why we believe it, and part of our movement is faced outward to the rest of the city, particularly the non-Christians.
I love apologetics and would love to find a format in which we can create discussion between Christians and non-Christians in the city. So I'm asking for ideas. Have you seen anything succesful somewhere? I'm thinking of an apologetics café in the style of 'death café's.
Please share!
submitted by Ruluba91 to ChristianApologetics [link] [comments]


2020.10.15 13:10 Gomez773 Hele artikel van FTM over:"Het financiële fundament onder Forum voor Democratie: Zuidas, vastgoed en orthodoxe christenen"

Forum voor Democratie is dé politieke start-up van het decennium. De partij is in een kelder in de Amsterdamse grachtengordel ontstaan, en vindt haar aanhangers en sponsors in de wereld van het grote geld en bij godvrezende mannen die voor het herstel van orthodox-christelijke waarden vechten. Maar hun geliefde partij heeft weinig op met de Wet financiering politieke partijen.
DIT STUK IN 1 MINUUT
Voor dit artikel heeft Follow the Money, in samenwerking met KRO/NCRV’s Pointer, de financiën onderzocht van Forum voor Democratie. De partij van Thierry Baudet laat zich graag omringen door donerende topadvocaten, vastgoedmagnaten en orthodoxe christenen, die via giften invloed proberen te krijgen en het politieke landschap willen beïnvloeden.
Zo maakte de gereformeerde topadvocaat Jan Louis Burggraaf eind 2018 25.000 euro over naar een aan FvD gelieerde stichting. Het geld was afkomstig van een fondsenwervingsavond die Burggraaf voor de partij had georganiseerd.
De advocaat vermeldde op de betalingsopdracht enkele namen van mensen van wie de donatie mede-afkomstig zou zijn, waaronder een oude studievriend. Die zegt echter niets te weten van de transactie: ‘Ik heb nooit enige gift gedaan aan een partij, welke dan ook.’
De donatie verscheen nooit op de jaarrekening van de politieke partij. ‘Gesjoemel,’ zeggen experts over de gift. De kwestie laat zien hoezeer wetgeving inzake transparante partijfinanciering in Nederland nog ‘in de kinderschoenen staat’
//waarschuwing, 15 minuten leestijd + wederhoor van FVD en Jan Louis Burggraaf
Vrijdagavond 9 november 2018. Jan Louis Burggraaf, topadvocaat van Zuidas-kantoor Allen & Overy, neemt het woord in vijfsterrenhotel De L’Europe. Hij spreekt een gezelschap toe van zo’n dertig genodigden, voornamelijk mannen, die een meergangen-diner geserveerd krijgen. De meeste aanwezigen zijn goede bekenden van Burggraaf: studievrienden en oud-huisgenoten. Ze komen jaarlijks enkele malen tezamen, meestal in Amsterdam, om met elkaar te dineren en vrijelijk van gedachten te wisselen over onderwerpen die ‘cultuur, kerk, overheid en politiek’ aangaan, zo laat de gelauwerde specialist in fusies en overnames desgevraagd weten.
Burggraaf en zijn vrienden nodigen bij deze diners vaak sprekers uit. Op deze novemberavond is de man te gast die zich ten doel heeft gesteld het ‘partijkartel’ in Nederland te doorbreken: Thierry Baudet, leider van Forum voor Democratie. Ook advocaat Theo Hiddema, met wie Baudet sinds maart 2017 in de Tweede Kamer zit, is in het chique Amsterdamse hotel aanwezig.
Burggraaf en zijn studievrienden zijn danig onder de indruk van de inzichten die de twee FvD-politici die avond delen
Burggraaf is zeer te spreken over de partij van Baudet, die volgens hem de tijdgeest goed aanvoelt. Baudet stelt onder andere dat Nederland wordt ‘gegijzeld door een politieke, journalistieke en culturele kongsi’ en dat ‘een existentiële crisis het voortbestaan van de Nederlandse samenleving bedreigt’. Burggraaf en zijn studievrienden zijn danig onder de indruk van de inzichten die de twee politici die avond met de aanwezigen delen. Althans, het blijk van waardering voor de toespraken wordt snel zichtbaar op het banksaldo van een aan FvD gelieerd instituut.
Niet alleen betaalt Burggraaf als organisator van de avond de rekening voor het diner; een kleine twee weken later, op 22 november, maakt de advocaat 12.000 euro over naar een ING-rekening op naam van de denktank van Forum voor Democratie. Ruim een maand later, op 28 december, volgt nog eens 13.000 euro. In totaal: 25.000 euro. Dit blijkt uit bankafschriften die Follow the Money en het KRO/NCRV-programma Pointer hebben ingezien.
Politieke partijen moeten alle donaties boven de 4500 euro openbaar maken, zowel die in geld als in natura; dat staat in de wet. Toch staat die 25.000 euro van mr. drs. J.L. Burggraaf niet in de jaarverslagen van FvD. Ook de dinerkosten die Burggraaf betaalde, ontbreken. De advocaat zegt de betalingen namens zijn studievrienden en huisgenoten te hebben gedaan, maar dat blijkt niet te kloppen. ‘Ik heb nooit enige gift gedaan aan een partij, welke dan ook,’ zegt een studievriend van Burggraaf, wiens naam hij op de betalingsopdracht heeft vermeld.

Jan Louis Burggraaf© BRAM PETRAEUS
‘Een goede club’
Als één tak van sport binnen de corporate advocatuur eruit springt, dan is dat het specialisme fusies en overnames. Oftewel: mergers and acquisitions. Afgekort: M&A. Hoe meer een M&A-advocaat wordt gewaardeerd, hoe groter de deals worden en hoe groter de belangen. De M&A-advocaten zijn de rainmakers, de alfamannetjes op de rots die de Zuidas is. En Jan Louis Burggraaf (Rotterdam, 1964) mag zich al vele jaren Nederlands meest gevierde M&A-advocaat noemen.
Hij groeide op in een tv-loos gereformeerd gezin en meldde zich op zijn 15e bij de mariniers. Hij werd weggestuurd, deed na het voltooien van zijn vwo een tweede poging en werd tot zijn grote teleurstelling wegens brildragendheid afgewezen. Hij hield er een levenslange hang naar special forces en legersnufjes aan over, plus een instelling die hem als advocaat goed van pas zou komen. Aan de Zuidas ontplooide hij zijn talenten maximaal, zonder zijn devotie voor het opperwezen eraan te geven. De man die op zondagen steevast niet één, maar twee keer de kerk bezoekt, liet zich ook in het heetst van een overnamestrijd – veelal in de weekeinden – slechts zeer zelden van een bezoek aan een godshuis weerhouden.
Burggraaf werd uiteindelijk zeven keer door zijn vakgenoten uitgeroepen tot de beste M&A lawyer. Hij deed honderden deals die jaarlijks vele miljarden in beurswaarde behelsden. Toen in 2007 het activistische hedgefonds TCI er bij ABN Amro op aandrong de bank op te splitsen of zich over te laten nemen, klopte toenmalig topman Rijkman Groenink aan bij de man die hij het meest geschikt achtte om het grote gevaar af te wenden: Burggraaf. Hij begeleidde de top van de bank totdat ABN Amro door het trio Royal Bank of Scotland, Banco Santander en Fortis werd overgenomen en in stukken werd gereten. Dealwaarde: 71 miljard euro.
De Volkskrant plaatste Burggraaf meermalen in de top 200 van meest invloedrijke Nederlanders. De advocaat – politiek actief in het CDA – beweegt zich waar de economische macht zich ophoudt en is vertrouwensman van vele topbestuurders in binnen- en buitenland. Christian Van Thillo, eigenaar van De Persgroep (DPG), het grootste krantenconcern van België en Nederland, is er een van. In 2011 trad de advocaat toe tot de raad van commissarissen van het bedrijf.
Voor een met 2000 FvD-leden gevulde zaal presenteerde Burggraaf zich ironisch als de ‘boze witte man’
Diezelfde Burggraaf verraste velen toen hij op 25 november 2017 tijdens het jaarcongres van Forum voor Democratie in de Rai in Amsterdam naar buiten trad als sympathisant van Baudets partij. Voor een met 2000 mensen gevulde zaal presenteerde hij zich ironisch als de ‘boze witte man’. De man die ‘boos, bekrompen, onzeker over de toekomst, nationalistisch en als het even kan een beetje xenofoob’ is, voegde hij er schertsend aan toe. En serieus: ‘Dat is het stigma en de diskwalificatie die op mensen wordt geplakt die er een andere mening op nahouden.’
Burggraaf maakte in zijn toespraak van een kleine tien minuten duidelijk dat hij Forum voor Democratie een ‘goede club’ vindt. De partij manifesteert zich op het gebied van de referenda, is voor sterke buitengrenzen en heeft tot zijn vreugde veiligheid en defensie nadrukkelijk in het partijprogramma staan. Op de achtergrond werd op een groot scherm een beeld van zijn professionele habitat geprojecteerd: de skyline van de Zuidas in Amsterdam, het financiële centrum van Nederland.
De link van Burggraaf met Baudet en Forum voor Democratie ontstond echter al jaren voordat hij tijdens het jaarcongres in de Rai achter het spreekgestoelte ging staan om duizenden mensen toe te spreken.
De kelder aan de Herengracht
Ondernemer Cor Verkade is een oude studievriend van Burggraaf en was een van de aanwezigen op de besloten bijeenkomst in hotel De L’Europe. In het dagelijks leven bestiert Verkade (Nieuwe-Tonge, 1967) een vastgoedportfolio van ongeveer 350 miljoen euro. Net als Burggraaf is hij orthodox christen en bewonderaar van Baudet. Hij is nog steeds actief in de Staatkundig Gereformeerde Partij (SGP) en als ondernemende SGP’er heeft hij een reputatie opgebouwd. ‘Als je een grote investering wilt doen met je bedrijf, ga je niet naar de bank, maar naar Cor Verkade. Dat is algemeen bekend in onze kringen,’ zegt een SGP’er uit het midden van het land.

Cor Verkade© ANP / MARLIES WESSELS
De in Gouda woonachtige vastgoedinvesteerder houdt kantoor in Amsterdam. Om precies te zijn: aan de Herengracht 74, waar ook de kribbe van de politieke partij van Thierry Baudet stond en Forum voor Democratie nog steeds is gevestigd. Samen met de protestantse broers Moshe en Aren van Dam is Verkade voor 75 procent eigenaar van het grachtenpand. Hun gezamenlijke vastgoedonderneming Van Dam, Van Dam & Verkade BV staat er ook ingeschreven. De overige 25 procent is in handen van Burggraaf, die een oude bekende is van de gebroeders Van Dam. Ze zaten in dezelfde christelijke studentenvereniging: de CSFR in Utrecht.
‘Moshe heet eigenlijk Arie Johannes,’ zegt Verkade als FTM hem in de buurt van zijn kantoor op een terrasje spreekt. ‘Zijn ouders noemden hem Martin, maar hij noemt zichzelf Moshe omdat hij het jodendom nog boeiender vindt dan ik.’
Net als Burggraaf zijn de gebroeders Van Dam sympathisanten van Forum voor Democratie, zegt Verkade. Hij was echter degene die Baudet als eerste leerde kennen, in het Conservatief Café in Gouda, een initiatief waar Verkade financieel aan bijdraagt. ‘Tien jaar geleden leerde je daar alle leuke mensen uit het hele land kennen. Met conservatieven onder elkaar heb je een hele fijne sfeer. Dan kun je gewoon zeggen wat je wilt en vrijuit nadenken.’
Volgens Verkade is in een geseculariseerde samenleving ‘een cultuurchristen’ nodig
Verkade is bijvoorbeeld ongerust over de mate van tolerantie waarmee Nederland mensen binnen zijn landsgrenzen toelaat. Hij voorziet ‘een scenario van een burgeroorlog’ wanneer er nog meer islamitische mensen het land binnenkomen. ‘Vanaf een bepaald percentage gaan mensen rechten opeisen, dat zie je wereldwijd. Van de 60 landen waar de islam de dominante godsdienst is, zijn er geloof ik 58 een dictatuur.’
Black Lives Matter noemt hij ‘diabolisch’. Althans: ‘die leugenachtige geest die er is rondom Black Lives Matter is zo fnuikend,’ legt hij uit. ‘Slavernij komt niet door ons vrije westen, sterker nog, wij hebben slavernij beëindigd, als eerste. De Egyptenaren begonnen ermee. Die Akwasi, die komt van een stam die meer heeft verdiend aan de slavernij dan de VOC.’
Volgens Verkade is in een geseculariseerde samenleving ‘een cultuurchristen’ nodig. Iemand die vanuit het verleden kijkt naar het heden. Iemand die ziet dat de Westerse beschaving ten onder gaat, als er niet wordt ingegrepen. Iemand als Baudet. Die waarschuwt nadrukkelijk voor het naderende onheil en heeft al eerder laten zien dat hij iets met christelijke waarden heeft.
In 2013 reisde Baudet immers naar Brussel om daar in de elitaire Franstalige mannenclub Cercle Royal Gaulois Artistique & Littéraire als panellid een conferentie bij te wonen, georganiseerd ter gelegenheid van de oprichting van de Transatlantic Christian Council (TCC). Dit blijkt uit onderzoek van tv-programma Pointer van KRO-NCRV dat samen met FTM werd verricht. Deze lobby-organisatie is een initiatief van voormalig SGP- beleidsadviseur en politiek trainer Henk Jan van Schothorst en de christelijke Amerikaanse diplomaat Todd Huizinga.
‘Het doel is met een christelijk netwerk beleid te beïnvloeden met name bij nauwelijks gecontroleerde internationale organisaties zoals de Verenigde Naties, de Organisatie voor Veiligheid en Samenwerking in Europa en Europese instellingen,’ zegt van Schothorst in het Reformatorisch Dagblad. ‘Kernthema’s zijn de bescherming en bevordering van leven, gezin en vrijheid.’ In de praktijk betekent het onder andere dat de diepgelovige Van Schothorst ijvert voor de inperking van rechten voor homoseksuelen, transgenders en vrouwen.
Verkade laat weten dat hij TCC een warm hart toedraagt en het initiatief ook financieel steunt. ‘Uiteraard,’ voegt hij daaraan toe. ‘TCC is belangrijk omdat zij vanuit internationale samenwerking probeert een dam op te werpen tegen het in Psalm 2 genoemde kwaad. Die psalm geeft immers een kijkje achter de geestelijke schermen van de geschiedenis van de mensheid.’
Voor de ‘heidense vrienden’
De noodzaak voor een seculier conservatisme zag Verkade al ruim voordat Baudet met Forum begon. Met een aantal orthodox-christelijke zakenvrienden, waaronder Jan Louis Burggraaf, overweegt hij in 2014 een conservatieve politieke partij op te richten voor ongelovige geestverwanten. ‘De heidense vrienden’, zoals Verkade ze noemt. ‘Het CDA was in die dagen wat kleurloos en om te voorkomen dat mensen in de armen van het heidense D66 zouden worden gedreven, moest er een heidense broeder- of zusterpartij van de SGP komen.’ Het idee komt niet van de grond omdat andere alternatieven zich aandienen, zodat Verkade c.s. de plannen ‘in de ijskast zetten’.
‘Om te voorkomen dat mensen in de armen van het heidense D66 werden gedreven, moest er een heidense broeder- of zusterpartij van de SGP komen’
Dat verandert in 2015. De kelder aan de Herengracht staat dan al drie jaar leeg, nadat de vorige bewoner – dominee van de Zuidas Ruben van Zwieten – vertrok om, mede met financiële steun van Verkade, zendingswerk te gaan verrichten. Verkade weet iemand anders te vinden. ‘Thierry zocht in die tijd ruimte voor zijn net opgerichte denktank, Forum voor Democratie. Hij is komen kijken met zijn kompanen en zo begon er vanuit onze kelder een denktank.’ Vanaf 1 juli 2015 betaalt Baudet 600 euro huur per maand. Op 1 januari 2016 stijgt de huur naar 750 euro in de maand. Weer een half jaar later wordt het 800 euro, nog steeds minder dan de 1.200 euro die Verkade de dominee in rekening bracht.
Verkade steunt de denktank ook met een gift via de Forum-businessclub, geeft adviezen en via een goede relatie van de vastgoedman komt er ook geestelijke steun. Henk Jan van Schothorst van de orthodox-christelijke lobbyclub TCC is in april en juni te gast bij de start-up meetings van Forum. Baudet onderhoudt inmiddels een goede relatie met Van Schothorst. Een jaar eerder was hij samen met de lobbyist spreker bij een conferentie van het Danube Institute, een denktank in de Hongaarse hoofdstad Boedapest, die via een stichting wordt gefinancierd door de regering van Viktor Orbán.
‘Ingroeihuur’
Ondanks de relatief lage lasten en de steun die hij weet te verkrijgen, laat Baudet bij zijn huisbaas doorschemeren dat hij het lastig vindt zijn denktank in de lucht te houden. Verkade: ‘Ik zei dat er waarschijnlijk in Nederland geen ruimte voor een denktank was. Je moet in Nederland een politieke partij zijn, anders kom je er niet.’
In september 2016 is het zover. Samen met voormalig bankier Henk Otten en meervoudig internetondernemer Rob Rooken richt Baudet de politieke partij Forum voor Democratie op.
Verkade verlaagt de huur van 800 naar 490 euro per maand, zo blijkt uit de jaarrekeningen van Forum voor Democratie. ‘Ingroeihuur’, noemt Verkade dat. Wel zegt Verkade dat de partij na de Tweede Kamerverkiezingen in maart 2017 – toen de partij de begane grond en een extra kamer erbij kreeg – 3200 euro per maand ging betalen. De jaarrekeningen van FvD suggeren echter een lagere huurprijs. De partij betaalde 9600 euro over 2017 en 21.515 in 2018, aldus de jaarstukken van de partij.
Verkade schat dat hij normaal gesproken 3000 euro per maand zou vragen voor de kantoorruimte – die inmiddels de kelder, de begane grond en een extra kamer beslaat. Op basis hiervan en de jaarrekeningen van FvD, berekende FTM de hoogte van Verkades ‘ingroeikorting’. Die bedroeg 20.525 euro (70 procent) in 2017 en 14.485 euro (40 procent) in 2018.
Uit de jaarrekeningen blijkt dat Forum de huurkorting uit de eerdere jaren niet als gift heeft opgegeven
Een bedrijfsmakelaar bevestigt dat een ingroeihuur vaker voorkomt. Wel laat hij weten dat hij de korting die Forum voor Democratie heeft gekregen ‘aan de hoge kant’ vindt.
Uit de jaarrekeningen blijkt dat Forum de huurkorting uit de eerdere jaren niet als gift heeft opgegeven. Inmiddels betaalt de partij een normale huur, maar de vraag is of Forum de korting niet had moeten melden. In reactie op gedetailleerde vragen stuurt het ministerie van Binnenlandse Zaken en Koninkrijksrelaties ons alleen de relevante wetsartikelen op. Het ministerie wil niet ingaan op de specifieke casus. De Commissie Toezicht Financiering Politieke partijen, die het ministerie over dergelijke zaken adviseert, antwoordt: ‘Het geven van een huurkorting is niet ongewoon. Dat soort voordelen die in de markt aanwezig zijn, kunnen ook voor politieke partijen gelden en zijn daarmee niet een gift.’
‘Mediabedrijf met een politieke tak’
Wanneer Forum voor Democratie van een denktank in een politieke partij verandert, wordt mede-oprichter Henk Otten zakelijk leider. Otten (Assen, 1967) is een boerenzoon uit Drenthe, die in Groningen rechten en bedrijfseconomie studeerde en zijn loopbaan begon aan de Zuidas in Amsterdam – bij hetzelfde advocatenkantoor waar later ook Jan Louis Burggraaf terecht zou komen. Otten maakt in 1995 de overstap naar Rabo International in Hong Kong, waar hij zich specialiseert als dealmaker in de telecom-wereld. Hij keert terug naar Europa en gaat in Londen voor Lehman Brothers werken, de Amerikaanse zakenbank die in september 2008 ten onder gaat en daarmee de grote financiële crisis inluidt.

Henk Otten, mei 2020© ANP / BART MAAT
In dat economische rampjaar leert Otten via zijn vriend Michiel Visser, een succesvolle Nederlandse advocaat in New York, Baudet kennen. Visser zit net als Burggraaf in de fusies en overnames en is een paar jaar eerder in de ranglijst van Amerikaanse topadvocaten – de Legal 500 – beschreven als een ‘superstar M&A specialist’.
Visser, die ooit met Baudet in dezelfde Leidse universiteitskringen verkeerde, spekt begin 2017 de verkiezingskas van Forum met 10 duizend euro. Hij wordt voorbijgestreefd door Maarten Ruijs, een in Hong Kong woonachtige managing partner van het private equity-fonds CVC Capital Partners.
De schenkingen van Visser en Ruijs steken schril af tegen de inkomsten die de partij in de maanden na de goed verlopen verkiezingen weet binnen te halen. Dat gebeurt onder aanvoering van Otten, die de partij injecteert met het elan van een zakenbankier. ‘Als je een deal laat verslonzen, wordt hij niet geclosed. Dan gaat een ander ermee aan de haal. Zo is het in de politiek ook,’ zegt hij eind 2018 in de Volkskrant, als hij voor het eerst naar buiten treedt. In datzelfde interview beschrijft Otten hoe handig de partij gebruikmaakt van social media en hoeveel mensen ze met hun ‘eigen content’ weten te bereiken. Hij concludeert: ‘We zijn eigenlijk een mediabedrijf met een politieke tak.’
Otten pakt de spreadsheets erbij en ‘benchmarkt’ de andere politieke partijen door inkomsten en uitgaven in kaart te brengen
Als hoofd van het ‘mediabedrijf’ pakt Otten de spreadsheets erbij en ‘benchmarkt’ hij de andere politieke partijen door inkomsten en uitgaven in kaart te brengen. En hij kiest een duidelijke strategie door vol in te zetten op de werving van betalende leden, om zo een solide kasstroom te creëren. FvD heeft drie smaken in de aanbieding: een lid betaalt 25, 50 of 100 euro. Hoe groter de liefde, hoe meer je kunt bijdragen. De aanpak werkt. Tienduizenden mensen trekken de portemonnee om de partij te steunen. Eind 2017 zijn dat er volgens FvD 20.000, met een inkomstenstroom van meer dan 6 ton. Een jaar later is het ledenaantal ruim 26 duizend en dat levert meer dan 7 ton op. De kassa blijft rinkelen, maar de liefde taant.
De strategie heeft nog andere voordelen: hoe meer leden een partij binnenhaalt, hoe meer de belastingbetaler bijspringt: elk lid levert een subsidie van 7 euro op. En hoe meer subsidiabele leden Forum werft, hoe groter hun aandeel uit de pot die de overheid daarvoor beschikbaar heeft gesteld. ‘Het is een zero-sum game,’ zegt Otten in het Parool. Want hoe meer leden Forum binnenhaalt, hoe meer subsidie voor hen en hoe minder de concurrentie krijgt. ‘Een hele gezonde dynamiek voor ons,’ jubelt Otten half april 2019. Enkele weken later is zijn lot binnen de partij bezegeld.
Mede-Forum-oprichter en vriend Rob Rooken brengt naar buiten dat Otten met zijn hand in de kas heeft gezeten en 25 duizend euro aan zichzelf heeft overgemaakt. De voormalig zakenbankier trekt direct zijn conclusies en treedt terug uit het bestuur. Na schermutselingen in de media, waarbij Otten en Baudet elkaar over en weer van malversaties beschuldigen, wordt hij in juli geroyeerd. Later wordt duidelijk dat Otten bij zijn werk als penningmeester inderdaad steken heeft laten vallen.
Nieuwe penningmeester, andere ex-bankier
Otten wordt opgevolgd door een andere oud-bankier: Olaf Ehpraim. De nieuwe penningmeester komt bij de zakenbank MeesPierson vandaan, dat onderdeel is van ABN Amro en in 1996 door Fortis Bank werd overgenomen. Ephraim is door een andere ex-bankier uit de Forum-gelederen naar voren geschoven: Paul Frentrop. De twee kennen elkaar nog uit de tijd dat ze samen bij MeesPierson zaten en uit de periode dat ze beiden voor Deminor werkten, een Belgische onderneming die opkomt voor de belangen van minderheidsaandeelhouders. Bij het congres van FvD in Barneveld in november 2019 wordt de nieuwe penningmeester aan de partijleden voorgesteld. Als Ephraim het woord krijgt, maakt hij al in zijn eerste zin gehakt van het werk van zijn voorganger: ‘Ik heb nog nooit zo'n administratieve en financiële rotzooi aangetroffen.’
FvD spreekt van ‘omzet’ en van ‘exploitatiebaten’ en aan de andere kant van ‘kostprijs van de omzet’ en het ‘exploitatieresultaat’
De jaarrekening 2018, die in juni wordt gepubliceerd, ademt nog wel de aanpak van Otten. Forum voor Democratie spreekt in het jaarverslag van ‘omzet’ en van ‘exploitatiebaten’ en aan de andere kant van ‘kostprijs van de omzet’ en het ‘exploitatieresultaat’. De nadruk komt in 2019 ‘volledig’ te liggen op het ‘verder professionaliseren van de partij’, belooft de leiding. En: ‘We willen bouwen aan een breed netwerk aan sponsoren en donateurs, waarmee we middelen genereren die onze financiële slagkracht verder vergroten.’
Het bewijs dat er flink aan het bredere netwerk is gebouwd, bereikte een maand geleden de buitenwereld. Op de avond van 10 september treedt de Amerikaanse ambassadeur Pete Hoekstra op als gastheer van een partijbijeenkomst van Forum voor Democratie. Hoekstra heeft daarvoor Amerikaans grondgebied opengesteld: de ambassade in Wassenaar. ‘Ongeveer veertig procent van de genodigden was ondernemer. De rest was partijtop,’ vertelt de aanwezige media-ondernemer en organisator van luxe-beurzen Yves Gijrath aan De Groene Amsterdammer. In een eerdere podcast omschrijft Gijrath de avond als ‘een soort funding bijeenkomst’. De uitnodiging die de journalisten van De Groene te zien krijgen, vermeldt ‘op uitnodiging van Forum voor Democratie en Pete Hoekstra’.
Onderzoek dat tv-programma Pointer van KRO-NCRV in samenwerking met FTM heeft gedaan, wijst uit dat Hoekstra goed bevriend is met de orthodox-christelijke Henk Jan van Schothorst van lobbyorganisatie TCC. Dat is niet voor niets, beiden promoten hetzelfde gedachtegoed: ‘Hoekstra is een tegenstander van abortus, hij is een tegenstander van het homohuwelijk en van LHBT+-rechten,' zegt de Amerikaanse journaliste Sarah Posner.
HENK JAN VAN SCHOTHORST, SGP
"Baudet heeft best veel van onze programmapunten overgenomen"
Het zijn dezelfde standpunten die Baudet met enige regelmaat ventileert. ‘Op een aantal gebieden is hij zeker een medestander,’ zegt Van Schothorst. ‘Ik ben lid van de SGP en dat is de partij waar hij een hoop van heeft meegenomen. Hij heeft best veel van onze programmapunten overgenomen.’ Of Baudet echt in God gelooft en naar de bijbel leeft, doet er eigenlijk niet toe voor Van Schothorst en de orthodoxe christenen. ‘We kijken bij TCC niet naar personen maar naar beleid, wat er onder de streep uitkomt.’
Financiële slagkracht
De belofte die Forum voor 2019 deed om de financiële slagkracht te vergroten, wordt ruimschoots gestand gedaan. Forum kan dat al in juni 2019 zeggen: de grootste donaties uit de korte geschiedenis van de partij zijn dan binnen. In januari en in maart maakt private equity-man Maarten Ruijs vanuit Hong Kong in totaal 280 duizend euro over. In oktober stort hij nog eens 75 duizend euro. De in Cyprus gevestigde software-ondernemer Nick Galea doneert 50 duizend euro. Dat blijkt uit de jaarrekening van Forum, die begin oktober naar buiten komt.
Politicoloog André Krouwel zet grote vraagtekens bij deze donaties: ‘Het is raar dat een buitenlands persoon of bedrijf geld mag geven. Als je op Cyprus gaat zitten omdat je daar de belasting ontwijkt, moet je je niet tegen de Nederlandse politiek aan bemoeien. No taxation without representation, maar natuurlijk geldt ook no representation without paying taxes. Het is belangrijk dat de mensen die belasting betalen en de consequenties voelen meepraten en anderen niet.’
Een grote donateur is actief in de ‘exploitatie van interactieve communicatiesystemen, waaronder real-time vrijetijdsdiensten met volwassenen-content’
Opvallend zijn ook de schenkingen van de vennootschap van de zoon van vastgoedman Erik de Vlieger (10 duizend euro) en vastgoedondernemer Michael van de Kuit, die via zijn bedrijf Nedstede eveneens 10 duizend euro overmaakt. Pikant zijn drie donaties van Jan van den Broek uit Almere, die in totaal een omvang hebben van 25.500 euro. Van den Broek lijkt niet van orthodox-christelijke signatuur. Hij is de man achter onder meer Netbabes BV en de dienst ClubSense. Van den Broek (1949) blijkt onder andere actief te zijn in de ‘exploitatie van interactieve communicatiesystemen, waarmee ook real-time vrijetijdsdiensten met volwassenen-content kunnen worden aangeboden’.
‘Gewoon gesjoemel’
Ook een befaamde Amsterdamse M&A-advocaat staat op de lijst: Jan Louis Burggraaf. Hij doneert 5 duizend euro. Een vijfde van het bedrag dat hij eind 2018 op de rekening van de stichting van Forum overmaakte, en dat niet openbaar is gemaakt. Het bedrag is wat resteerde na de door Burggraaf georganiseerde avond in het Amsterdamse vijfsterrenhotel De L’Europe. Daar had de advocaat naar eigen zeggen zijn ‘studievrienden’ en ‘oud-huisgenoten’ voor uitgenodigd om er naar toespraken van Baudet en Theo Hiddema te luisteren. Burggraaf betaalde in twee tranches ‘het saldo van wat overblijft na betaling van de kosten van de betreffende avond’. In totaal: 25 duizend euro. Maar het verhaal van Burggraaf schuurt.
De eerste betaling – 12 duizend euro op 22 november – doet hij onder andere namens C.M.J. Burggraaf en A.J.M. Burggraaf. Dat zijn de twee zonen van de advocaat: Constantijn en Alexander. Bronnen die bij de presentatie in het hotel aanwezig waren, ontkennen familieleden van Burggraaf te hebben gezien. De zonen vallen ook niet onder de noemer ‘studievriend’ of ‘oud-huisgenoot’.
Een derde persoon die volgens deze betaalopdracht van Burggraaf zou hebben meebetaald, is J.J. Blanken. Dat blijkt advocaat Jan Blanken te zijn, werkzaam bij Capra Advocaten in Den Haag. Blanken, die inderdaad een oude studievriend van Burggraaf is, ontkent desgevraagd bij de bijeenkomst in De L’Europe aanwezig te zijn geweest en heeft ook niets betaald. ‘Ik heb nooit enige gift gedaan aan een partij, welke dan ook.’
Volgens politicoloog Ruud Koole wordt met deze overschrijvingen gepoogd de wet financiering politieke partijen te omzeilen
Bij de storting van 13 duizend euro die Burggraaf tussen kerst en nieuwjaar van 2018 doet, staat vermeld: ‘Geschonken door vijf verschillende personen. Gegevens bij mij bekend en ik kan desgevraagd delen.’
Volgens politicoloog Ruud Koole wordt met deze overschrijvingen gepoogd de wet financiering politieke partijen te omzeilen. Die wet zegt dat donaties boven de 4500 euro openbaar moeten worden gemaakt, wanneer het bedrag is overgemaakt aan een politieke partij of daaraan gelieerde neveninstellingen. Door de bedragen toe te schrijven aan meerdere personen en ze over te maken aan een stichting van Forum voor Democratie, die op dat moment niet de status van neveninstelling heeft, valt de overboeking buiten de wet.
Koole: ‘Hij dacht: ik kom boven de 4500 euro uit, weet je wat, ik geef gewoon namen van familieleden op. Dat vind ik valsheid in geschrifte. Het is gewoon gesjoemel.’ Volgens de hoogleraar is de overboeking niet in strijd met de wet. ‘Maar het bedrag had wel geopenbaard moeten worden, zodat de kiezer weet van wie een partij geld krijgt,’ vindt de hoogleraar. Koole is bekend met het fenomeen van via een stichting geven, ook wel omweg-financiering genoemd. ‘Een klassiek probleem in de partijfinanciering.’ ‘Ik vind dat Nederland wat dit betreft nog wel in de kinderschoenen staat.’
Politicoloog Krouwel stelt dat Nederland terecht een slechte reputatie heeft op dit vlak: ‘We zijn hier het wilde noorden van de partijfinanciering.’ ‘Het ergste waar je bij dit soort gevallen voor gestraft wordt, is dat het uitkomt. Daarmee is de kous is af. Ze hebben gepoogd onzichtbaar te blijven en dat is niet gelukt.’
Directe bronnen rond Forum voor Democratie met wie FTM sprak, stellen dat er die avond in De L’Europe meer werd verhuld. Het diner dat Jan Louis Burggraaf organiseerde, was niet slechts een avondje met vrienden. De bronnen beschrijven een overleg dat plaatsvond op het kantoor van Allen & Overy in Amsterdam, anderhalve maand eerder. De aanwezigen bij de bespreking: Jan Louis Burggraaf en een delegatie van Forum voor Democratie. Ze zouden de avond in het hotel besproken hebben: ‘Het ging niet om een vriendenclubje, het ging om fondsenwerving.’
WEDERHOOR FORUM VOOR DEMOCRATIE
In antwoord op onze bevindingen en een gedetailleerde set vragen, reageerde Forum voor Democratie als volgt: ‘FVD vertegenwoordigers zijn als gastspreker bij een diner aanwezig geweest. Georganiseerd door een groep vrienden die elkaar lange tijd kennen. Dit doen ze volgens mij vaker, zo ook in het najaar van 2018 in L’Europe. Zoals tijdens die avond aan het einde is aangegeven, gaat de opbrengst van zo een avond na aftrek van kosten richting spreker of bepaald goed doel. Op die avond werd aangegeven dat het restant naar FVD zou gaan.
We kunnen nagaan dat op het korte verzoek van de heer Burggraaf in november 2018 op de vraag naar welk bankrekeningnummer het saldo zou moeten overgemaakt, de toenmalige penningmeester heeft bericht: “Forum voor Democratie eindigend op 8174.” Dit bericht is zonder enige toelichting of aanvulling gestuurd en door de heer Burggraaf gebruikt om het beloofde restant van de avond over te maken onder de naam “Forum voor Democratie” Waarom op initiatief van de vorige penningmeester specifiek dit nummer is doorgegeven aan de heer Burggraaf is ons niet bekend.
Het bedrag is dus op verzoek van de vorige penningmeester overgemaakt naar Stichting Forum voor Democratie. Genoemde rekeningnummer is van de stichting. Deze stichting kent geen van de genoemde specifieke bepalingen of verplichtingen die u noemt. Over de ontvangst van deze betalingen is de Stichting Forum voor Democratie, noch de Vereniging Forum voor Democratie gehouden verantwoording af te leggen in de zin van de Wet Financiering Politieke Partijen (Wfpp). Dit geldt niet alleen voor deze stichting, maar ook voor vergelijkbare stichtingen als bijvoorbeeld de stichting Mr. H.C. Dresselhuys fonds, stichting Godefridus van Heesfonds of de Stichting Ivo Opstelten Foundation die aan de VVD gelieerd zijn. De betreffende stichting dient zich uiteraard wel te houden aan algemene regelgeving. Kortom, de genoemde Wfpp artikelen zijn niet van toepassing. Ook melding aan het ministerie is niet aan de orde. Van schending van welke norm dan ook is dus geen sprake.
Uiteraard hebben wij de herkomst geverifieerd. Hoewel dus niet verplicht op basis van de Wfpp, willen wij wel graag weten dat geld uit verantwoorde bronnen komt. We kennen de uiteindelijke contribuanten. Wij begrijpen dat de afspraak binnen de vriendengroep, welke ter plekke in het najaar in L’Europe expliciet is herhaald (daar zijn vertegenwoordigers van FVD die aanwezig waren getuigen van), dat via de heer Burggraaf na aftrek van alle kosten voor die avond de verdere opbrengst aan FVD zou worden betaald, is opgevolgd. De heer Blanken heeft op basis van onze administratie inderdaad geen directe betaling aan FVD gedaan maar heeft geen bezwaar gehad, althans daar hebben wij niets van gemerkt tot op heden, dat mede namens hem het saldo van de avond bij FVD is terechtgekomen. De heer Blanken was naar wij weten de betreffende avond aanwezig en getuige van de toezegging. We kennen de personen achter de bedragen dus. Velen hebben we gesproken tijdens de bewuste avond in Amsterdam.’
In antwoord op deze verklaring stuurde FTM een lijst vervolgvragen. Hierop volgde tot dusver geen reactie.
WEDERHOOR JAN LOUIS BURGGRAAF
‘Vanuit de studievriendenclub/oud-huisgenoten dragen mensen bij aan de kosten van een avond. Soms iedereen, soms één om de beurt. In geval van niet commerciële diner sprekers (bij commerciële sprekers gaat het geld op richting spreker) hebben we tevens de gewoonte het saldo van wat overblijft na betaling van de kosten van de betreffende avond over te maken naar een niet commercieel doel, vaak een goed doel. Soms zijn dat inderdaad redelijke bedragen. Zo ook hier. De mensen die wilden betalen hebben aan mij betaald en ik heb na het voldoen van de kosten van de avond het restant overgemaakt naar FvD conform afspraak met de vriendenclub. Niemand is door FvD dus verplicht oid om iets te betalen.
Waarom door vriendenclub eerst naar mij is betaald, is omdat ik contractspartij van l'Europe was en ik eerst de kosten van de avond wilde voldoen. Dat ik in twee keer aan FvD betaald heb, komt louter omdat vanuit de vriendenclub sommigen mij heel vlot en anderen iets trager betaalden. Ik wilde niet nodeloos op geld van anderen zitten. Maak je geen zorgen (als je dat al doet): ik heb niets fiscaal afgetrokken als gift oid.’
In zijn tweede reactie meldt Burggraaf onder andere dat er, behalve vrienden, ook familie aanwezig was:
‘De aanwezigen waren voor zeker 90% (zeer) bekend voor de meeste aanwezigen(en zeker ook voor mij) en bestond uit oud-huisgenoten,(studie)vrienden, van sommige vrienden ook hun partners en soms hun jongvolwassen kinderen! Die laatste groep bestond uit meerdere studerende jong volwassenen/jongeren! Dat kan niemand ontgaan zijn.
Ik/de vriendenclub weet wie aanwezig was en daar gaat het om. Waarom zou iemand liegen over aanwezigen?
Ik weet wie bij heeft gedragen aan de betreffende avond en welk saldo ik conform afspraak(dus na aftrek van de kosten voor de avond) in twee keer heb overgemaakt. Ook wie bij heeft gedragen aan het tweede deel is mij bekend, zij allen waren de betreffende avond aanwezig.’
Over advocaat Blanken zegt Burggraaf dat hij zich niet kan voorstellen dat Blanken niets van de avond in De L’Europe weet: ‘Mijn eerdere mededelingen betreffende de avond staan nog steeds. Een andere lezing is incorrect.’
Met medewerking van Eric Smit. Dit artikel is gebaseerd op onderzoek van Follow the Money in samenwerking met KRO/NCRV’s Pointer. De serie over de financiering van Nederlandse politieke partijen wordt door het Fonds Bijzondere Journalistieke Projecten gesteund met een financiële bijdrage.
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2020.10.15 11:15 vjx99 WAS IST DENN SO SCHWER AN SERIÖSEM JOURNALISMUS - Eine Tirade über die unausgeglichene Berichterstattung in der Berliner Zeitung.

Ich bin ja wirklich nicht viel auf Twitter unterwegs - Wenn ich Idioten beim Diskutieren beobachten will kann ich genauso gut in jedem Redditpost zu Donald Trump nach ganz unten scrollen. Heute war ich dann doch mal wieder dort und durfte dort dieses CDU-Meisterwerk lesen:
Das einseitige Verkehrsexperiment in der #Friedrichstraße muss gestoppt werden. Es kommen nicht mehr, sondern weniger Kunden. Händler verzeichnen einen Umsatz-Rückgang von bis zu 40%. Betriebliche Existenzen und Arbeitsplätze stehen auf dem Spiel.
Für alle, die wie ich nicht aus Berlin kommen: Die Friedrichstraße wurde vor 6 Wochen autofrei, was für CDU und FDP einer Kriegserklärung auf alle Autofahrer gleichkommt. Die Zahl im Tweet sieht erstmal schockierend aus, daher habe ich mich in die Kommentare begeben, um mehr Infos dazu zu bekommen.
Unter dem Tweet verlink die CDU dann freundlicherweise einen Artikel der BZ zu dem Thema. Da mich das interessiert, folge ich ihm natürlich. Auf der Website angekommen, begrüßt mich wie gewohnt das freundliche AKZEPTIERE UNSERE COOKIES DU HURENSOHN, vollkommen neutral mit grau hinterlegtem "Einstellungen oder ablehnen" und rot hinterlegtem "Alle akzeptieren". Aufmerksam wie ich bin klicke ich "Einstellungen oder ablehnen". Keksfenster verschwindet, Artikel läd nicht. OK, zweiter Versuch: Klick, Fenster verschwindet, nichts passiert. DU VERDAMMTE WEBSITE, WENN DU NICHT WILLST, DASS ICH COOKIES ABLEHNE DANN SAG ES MIR DOCH EINFACH! Dritter Versuch, gleiches Ergebnis. Also vierter Versuch, alle Cookies akzeptiert und, welch Überraschung, der Artikel läd sofort.
Das erste Bild, das ich sehe, ist ein Foto der Friedrichstraße, mit Fahrradfahrern, einem vollen Café und ein paar Fußgängern. Alle in Jacken, also ist es offensichtlich schon relativ kalt und kein Sommer-Ausgehwetter. "Schön", denke ich, "also wird die Straße auch bei nicht perfektem Wetter gut genutzt". FALSCH! Die Bildunterschrift sagt mir nämlich:
Die Friedrichstraße am Dienstagmittag. Fußgänger und buntes Großstadttreiben Fehlanzeige
WAS ERWARTET IHR GENIES DENN AN EINEM DIENSTAGNACHMITTAG IM OKTOBER BEI 10°C UND EINER GLOBALEN PANDEMIE? TIMES-SQUARE-VERHÄLTNISSE AUF DER FRIEDRICHSSTRASSE?
Dann beginnt der Artikel. Der Chef der Einzelhandelsverbandes meldet sich zu Wort:
Viele Händler bangen bereits um ihre Existenz. „Aus einzelnen Ladengeschäften sind uns Frequenz- und Umsatzrückgänge von etwa 20 Prozent gemeldet worden“
WAS IST DAS DENN FÜR EINE BESCHEUERTE AUSSAGE? Im Vergleich zu wann? Zum Vorjahr? WIR HABEN CORONA, DU SCHOOFSEGGL! Zum Vormonat? DA WAR ES WÄRMER, DU ZEITREIHENANALYSENDEPP!
Weiter geht die Leserei, dann kommt mein Highlight des Artikels:
Nach dem Start im August machte der Begriff Fahrradautobahn die Runde. Denn mancher Strampler hielt sich nicht an die Höchstgeschwindigkeit von 20 Stundenkilometern.
HERGOTTSSÄGGLE NOCHEMOL! Da geht die Polizei extra an die Friedrichsstraße, um die Geschwindigkeit der Radfahrer zu messen, findet KEINEN EINZIGEN Geschwindigkeitsverstoß, und die BZ verbreitet trotzdem so einen Bockmist. Nur weil konservative Vollidioten von der Verfahradiesierung des Abendlandes schwafeln, müsst ihr das doch nicht abdrucken!
„Vor dem Versuch hatten die Leute noch eine Chance, die Friedrichstraße zu überqueren“, kommentiert Busch-Petersen.
Ja, sicher. Ein zweispuriger Radweg mit Höchstgeschwindigkeit 20 km/h ist unmöglich zu überqueren, während das bei einer zweispurige Straße mit Tempo 50 kein Problem war. WEN WOLLT IHR DENN MIT SO EINER GEQUIRLTEN SCHEISSE VERARSCHEN?
Um dann noch einen Hauch Neutralität auszustrahlen, kommt am Ende tatsächlich auch die andere Seite zu Wort:
Dorothee Winden, Sprecherin der Senatsverkehrsverwaltung, verteidigt das Projekt: „Das Konzept wurde zwischen Land und Bezirk sowie mit den Anrainern abgestimmt.“ Umfragen zeigten, dass die Stimmung insgesamt positiv sei.
IHR SCHREIBT ALSO EINEN ARTIKEL DRÜBER, DASS EINE AUTOFREIE FRIEDRICHSSTRASSE DEN UNTERGAND DER DEUTSCHEN WIRTSCHAFT BEDEUTET, DABEI SIEHT EINE MEHRHEIT DAS GANZE POSITIV UND SOGAR DIE GESCHÄFTE DORT SIND AN BORD? WAS IST DAS DENN FÜR EIN KACKJOURNALISMUS?
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2020.10.13 00:01 fractalfay A mango tree cannot start bearing lemons: Recap of 90DF The Other Way S02E15

90DF The Other Way is back, to prove that marriage can be miserable anywhere, so long as the only thing you pack in your carryon bag are lies.
Sumit slow-walks the mean streets of India like the protagonist in a power ballad, mumbling lyrics about loss and the strength of men, while a dude with a single snare drum follows at a safe distance and an iPhone captures road shots from a car window. This is how he walks. To his fate, to his future. In flannel. This is Sumit, alone. A man who loves a woman. Soon he’ll climb to the top of a dune and scream into the sunset, and this is a great time to use the bathroom.
Once in the family home, he yells his grief about the arranged marriage he didn’t want to the parents who paid for his divorce. If you’re new to this show, Jenny was meant to be a one-night scam between her vulnerable facebook profile and Sumit’s alter ego Michael, but oops, he actually liked her, and her warm embrace of compulsive lying makes them a match. Sumit’s mother Sahna attempts to remind him of all they’ve done for him, while Sumit’s father Anil apologizes for pressuring the arranged marriage. Sumit demands they accept his relationship with Jenny, and support his bid to marry her. They don’t budge on that whole marriage business, because Anil still thinks this is gross, and Sahna still can’t wrap her head around her former BINGO! Partner getting it on with her son.
“Before Sumit was even an idea, Jenny was someone’s mother,” Anil explains. “She could have been the nurse cradling him at the hospital. His elementary school teacher. A clown at the circus he watched from the stands. She could have been Mrs. Claus in the department store when he was still looking at the elves, and we’re not even Christian. I cannot with this.”
Sahna agrees. “Jenny developed her first uterine fibroid around the same time Sumit was born. She was tweaking the nipple of menopause when he had his first legal beer. How is this for my stomach to turn only?”
“Well in fairness to me, I’m really immature,” Jenny is happy to clear things up.
“A mango tree cannot start bearing lemons,” Anil insists, and we’re on fruit.
Sahna cries, because she doesn’t want to be on this show, but knows this is the only chance of her son ever paying her back. Sumit says that now that they’ve bailed him out of his marriage, he’s prepared to bail on his parents completely, if he has to, but not really. After a few rounds Sumit comforts his crying mother.
Later on Sumit meets Jenny at a café, and even though she’s literally waiting for him with a camera crew, she’s surprised to see him all the same. Jenny continues to not understand why they’re not embracing her, and thinks Sumit should drop them if they’re not going to accept her, which fits her preferred Bonnie and Clyde narrative.
“They don’t pay your bills,” she protests.
“Tell that to our bank account,” Sumit’s mom here with the layup.
“Yeah, I’m not ditching them even if you want me to,” Sumit has some lines.
“Well I’ll change course and be supportive!” Jenny exclaims. “So long as you say we’re going to be together forever, and that we love each other, and they just need to leave us be!”
“Yes, that has been most of our conversation over multiple seasons,” Sumit agrees, further underscoring why queue cards are not required here.
Just landing now in Bullshit, IL is Brittany, who still thinks anyone believes she’s serious about Yazan, despite “moving” to Jordan with just two suitcases and two weeks notice. Now she’s in Chicago with both of those suitcases, because she received an excuse to beat feet out of the Middle East for her urgent appointment anywhere else.
“It really helped Usman’s hip hop career to be on this show,” Brittany says. “I mean, you can’t court elderly men with braces fetishes forever. Now, check out this lyric about Middle Eastern money and bank account access. Edgy, right?”
“Needs more baby,” Usman has notes.
“Did someone say baby?” Stay in your parental shakedown lane, Biniyam.
Brittany is upset that Yazan wants her to get married right away, because that’s her whole storyline, but this is difficult because she’s still married, and that’s her plot twist. They could have had a discussion or two about whether or not she’d be expected to transform into a completely different person, but prematurely selling her conversion plans to his family is Yazan storyline, and likely the origin of his future ass-kicking.
After her mother picks her up they have the same conversation she’s had with various people all season, and Brittney insists once again that she’s there to finalize her divorce. A master of observation, Brittney suspects that if Yazan’s fam knew about this they might be angry, so it’s a good thing she’s thousands of miles away and doesn’t care.
“Maybe you could stop being a liar,” Brittany’s mom has suggestions.
“No,” Brittany has retorts.
Britt breaks down the social media she’s being asked to sacrifice, and Britt’s mom tells her to be herself and just stay in Chicago, because no one believes this. Later they both walk out the house wearing furs, as one does to a divorce, and disappear inside the courthouse for three hours. When they emerge Brittany reports something incoherent about missing paperwork, because “oops” apparently takes three hours, and probably buys Brittany another three weeks away from Jordan.
In actual relationships, Kenny and Armando wrangle the unsettling assignment of ‘only non-toxic couple on screen,’ and were cast because the 90DF producers just want to destroy something beautiful. They’re en route to get Armando’s sparkle day-glo dream engine of a child, Hannah, and somehow Kenny looks even younger, proving that sex is the best skincare routine. As they get close to his family home, Armando’s throat tightens with anxiety, which worsens when he realizes that his entire family is there. They should have brought Kenny’s daughters as buffers, but they didn’t, so the pressure is on Truffles the dog, who is editing his memoir in the backseat. Armando takes his engagement ring off so that he can slowly roll out the news of their forthcoming nuptials , and Kenny is hurt but eats it, because he knows Armando’s family is not prepared.
In a 90DF first, Kenny has regrets about not bothering to learn the native language prior to meeting the parents, because it’s hard to sell yourself when you can’t offer anything beyond hello. He could have rocked Rosetta Stone all the way from Florida, so that was just time wasted on techno. What have you learned about house music, Kenny?
“Mucho gusto?” Kenny negotiates his new phrase.
“Como?” David, what are you doing in this segment?
Kenny is the first man Armando has brought home, and only the second person, and the pair has chosen to remain in Mexico for proximity to Armando’s extended family. The two families appraise each other in awkward silence that feels like home. After an initial round of introductions, Armando’s mother Virginia offers to take them upstairs Armando Sr hideout, where he’ll yell “go away!” Through a slot in the door. This is not exactly a good start, but it’s what Armando expected. After they linger outside his pouting place while Virginia has one of those clenched teeth “get the fuck out here” conversations that populated many 90s-era sitcoms, Armando Sr. finally emerges to appraise his son’s would-be husband. He greets Armando, and then all the color drains from his face and his eyes adopt the venom required to banish demons back to hell, and this is hello to Kenny. Then he returns to hiding.
Kenny and Virginia manage to bond a little when Kenny confesses that he misses his children terribly, and it was a difficult decision to leave them behind. Virginia starts crying, and Armando’s sister says that it’s not just about losing Armando, but losing Hannah, who they’ve helped raise since she was born, and it’s also not about Armando at all, apparently.
“The way this works is that I conceal everything about myself that makes them uncomfortable, and then they thank me by punishing me for whatever I share,” Armando explains. “Just kidding, that’s Fractalfay’s interpretation, which is super judge-y, because she has no tact. You should insert something thoughtful and nice here, because that’s me.”
Armando finally decides to just rip the fucking bandaid off and announce his engagement. He stands up and puts his ring back on, and everyone stares at them, as Kenny reports feeling, “Like animals in a zoo.” Instead of congratulations, his mom can only manage, “It’s your decision.” Ouch. Finally someone breaks the tension and says, “We’re invited!” And there’s timid laughter. Kenny is sad that Armando’s family sees their relationship as something to overcome instead of something to celebrate.
In her interview Virginia says that she would have wanted to hear about this first, away from everyone else, so she could be embarrassed and hurt for several days in advance. She also says that she has no intentions of telling Armando Sr about this development.
Throughout this whole mess, Kenny takes pains to empathize with how Armando’s mother must be feeling, his father, his relatives, but no one seems interested in empathizing with Kenny outside of Armando himself. By the end of the evening Kenny has deduced that he’s not even perceived as human, and you can tell by his face that he’s checked out of his default warmth in favor of the guarded skepticism reserved for street preachers and election seasons. Armando then awkwardly asks if they can stay there that night, and after a few more agonizing seconds, she manages an okay. Before she retreats to her own grief cave, Virginia says a “welcome to the family” that doesn’t erase her actual facial expression, and they return to Armando’s old room to hide.
Kenny doesn’t feel remotely welcome, and who could blame him. He also doesn’t want to let Armando’s dad off the hook just because there are cultural differences, and it seems likely that their inability to appreciate Armando is going to lead Kenny to put his balls on the table and ask them to observe. “It’s almost like what Armando warned me about is true,” Kenny says. “I just don’t want anyone to dislike me. Ever.”
“We don’t dislike you, Kenny,” says the gnomes, who have emerged from hiding to plant a protective toadstool behind him. “We’ve brought you this necklace of dancing animals to preserve your golden glow.”
“We like you too!” Sings the animated birds that have manifested in the backdrop, to hold a tiny ‘congratulations’ banner between them.
Meanwhile, Ari is still disappointed that Ethiopia is nothing like the brochure, but she’s willing to play the part of Veruca Salt as pregnant lady. The hairstyle that anchored her relationship is no longer happening on Biniyam’s head, and she’s struggling to adjust to life without her parents doing everything for her, but her mom did pin a note to Ari’s shirt with her phone number on it in case she wanders off.
After some time considering their options, they pass on the expensive apartment, and find a place with a bathroom and kitchen that still offers Ari something to complain about, which is apparently the couch. Real talk: As I type this, there are two men in the kitchen of my rented apartment, cutting a giant hole in the ceiling, because the roof is caving in. This hole will then be covered in plastic, and abandoned for an uncertain amount of time. If Ari set foot in this dilapidated shack that is paradise by Portland rental standards, she would lose consciousness and not recover until I dragged her by the ankle to a wealthy shopping district and abandoned her in the linens section of a department store.
Binyam doesn’t make enough coin playing ass-bongos to keep them in food and shelter, but he knows Ari’s mother is going to firehose them in America, so he might as well maintain his evening disappearance schedule. Sure enough, Ari reports that her mom is going to import all their baby needs, and she’s already sent a list, and Biniyam nearly swoons in ecstasy. She then says that while Biniyam is not making enough money for her standards, he’s also expected to stay home with her the first month, and there’s no mention of what kind of support the country offers to new parents (if any).
“I’ve never lived in a college dorm,” Ari explains. “I don’t see why I would, when there are all those abandoned mansions around the campus. Yes, they say, “eviction notice” on the front, but I think it’s really nice of the landlord to let them know. This is long before my difficult life as a international traveler ignited. See, I’m prepared.”
“Have you thought about vaguely alluding to non-specific ‘work’ you do for your dad, to keep the haters at bay?” Libby has thoughts.
“Oh, I already do that. I call it ‘freelance writer who also works for her dad’.”
“So long as I can keep smacking ass and calling it a payday, this is good for me,” Biniyam is so all-aboard he’s pulling the train whistle.
“Yes, just be very alpha male when you are demanding gender norms only when they suit you,” Andrei is also reporting for advice dispersement.
Later, they shop for a used car together, and a salesperson dares to math at Ari, who promptly dissolves. “This can’t be right,” she cries. “My car wasn’t this expensive when my parents bought it for me!”
Biniyam tries to explain to Ari that she’s in a different country, so Ari calls her mom to see if that’s really true. Her mom then offers to come by and give the country a second inspection, and Ari says yes and starts crying into the phone, clutching the receiver and demanding an exit option from this permanent camping trip.
“Ari, this car is something we need,” Biniyam hustles. “No, I don’t have the money for it. But we need it if you know what I mean.”
“Of course I don’t mind taking money from Ari’s parents,” Biniyam clarifies in his interview, as if there were any questions. “Why do you think I’m at this car lot?”
“I never wonder if I’m asking too much,” Ari whines, throwing herself on the floor and demanding someone unwrap a chocolate bar with a golden ticket.
Then they go to another prenatal appointment, where Ari asks the radiologist to play doctor.
“I’m the radiologist,” this poor bastard tries.
“Yeah, but can you tell me everything you see, what it means, and how we’re going to proceed?”
“I am still a radiologist.”
In the doctor’s office we learn that Ari’s amniotic fluid is less than it should be, and the baby is still breach, so they’re going to have to perform a C-section. This breaks Ari’s melodrama dam, and she transforms into one part Nicholas Cage, one part Oprah from The Color Purple. “NOT THE BEES!” She screams. “All my life I’ve had to fight!”
“How much of a bonus do your parents award for c-section,” Biniyam wonders. “Like, ballpark figure.”
Milquetoast, aka Cheesestick, continues his international apology tour, while Melyza pulls an Evelin and double-dips dicks while he’s away, and somehow still claims the moral high ground. Tim is at another job interview, and remains bummed that no one thought to learn English before he arrived. The most important part of this segment is the robust money tree plant in the background, teasing Tim about his rapidly shrinking bank account. Can someone give this guy a few spritzes real quick? Can this be Tim’s job?
Meanwhile, Melyza is working out a way to justify being almost as bad as Tim.
“I don’t know how this works exactly,” Melyza is new here. “But I’m disappointed in Tim, which is a Get Some Dick Free card by my estimate. I’m looking forward to humiliating him on television.”
For reassurance that she continues to be better than Cheesestick and her lying is justified, she meets up with everyone she knows with aviator glasses. She tells her brother Miguel and friend David that she hasn’t told Tim about the wheel of dicks she spun after he cheated on her, and thinks she’s entitled to ‘live her life’ while Tim is entitled to ‘assume he’s still in hers.’
The drumroll to her predictable confession to her friends is played up like a telenovella, and I’d like to extend my gratitude to David for removing his sunglasses to better communicate his side-eye before unfurling the intense question: “Como?”
“I love you,” Kenny has answers.
“I love you more,” So does Armando.
And with that, the warning shot for the rest of our season has been fired! Still to come: Ari is inconsolable because that’s the only way she could possibly have a baby, Jenny is Jenny and has no responsibility for anything (ever), Deavan gets really excited about the possibility of Jihoon cheating on her and finds a way to sulk about a big wedding after sulking about money, Melyza and Cheesestick are super boring, Kenny and Armando are denied a wedding license because there is no justice, and Ari saves her baby from genital mutilation.
Thank you, Patreon supporters!
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2020.10.13 00:00 fractalfay A mango tree cannot start bearing lemons: Recap of 90DF The Other Way S02E15

90DF The Other Way is back, to prove that marriage can be miserable anywhere, so long as the only thing you pack in your carryon bag are lies.
Sumit slow-walks the mean streets of India like the protagonist in a power ballad, mumbling lyrics about loss and the strength of men, while a dude with a single snare drum follows at a safe distance and an iPhone captures road shots from a car window. This is how he walks. To his fate, to his future. In flannel. This is Sumit, alone. A man who loves a woman. Soon he’ll climb to the top of a dune and scream into the sunset, and this is a great time to use the bathroom.
Once in the family home, he yells his grief about the arranged marriage he didn’t want to the parents who paid for his divorce. If you’re new to this show, Jenny was meant to be a one-night scam between her vulnerable facebook profile and Sumit’s alter ego Michael, but oops, he actually liked her, and her warm embrace of compulsive lying makes them a match. Sumit’s mother Sahna attempts to remind him of all they’ve done for him, while Sumit’s father Anil apologizes for pressuring the arranged marriage. Sumit demands they accept his relationship with Jenny, and support his bid to marry her. They don’t budge on that whole marriage business, because Anil still thinks this is gross, and Sahna still can’t wrap her head around her former BINGO! Partner getting it on with her son.
“Before Sumit was even an idea, Jenny was someone’s mother,” Anil explains. “She could have been the nurse cradling him at the hospital. His elementary school teacher. A clown at the circus he watched from the stands. She could have been Mrs. Claus in the department store when he was still looking at the elves, and we’re not even Christian. I cannot with this.”
Sahna agrees. “Jenny developed her first uterine fibroid around the same time Sumit was born. She was tweaking the nipple of menopause when he had his first legal beer. How is this for my stomach to turn only?”
“Well in fairness to me, I’m really immature,” Jenny is happy to clear things up.
“A mango tree cannot start bearing lemons,” Anil insists, and we’re on fruit.
Sahna cries, because she doesn’t want to be on this show, but knows this is the only chance of her son ever paying her back. Sumit says that now that they’ve bailed him out of his marriage, he’s prepared to bail on his parents completely, if he has to, but not really. After a few rounds Sumit comforts his crying mother.
Later on Sumit meets Jenny at a café, and even though she’s literally waiting for him with a camera crew, she’s surprised to see him all the same. Jenny continues to not understand why they’re not embracing her, and thinks Sumit should drop them if they’re not going to accept her, which fits her preferred Bonnie and Clyde narrative.
“They don’t pay your bills,” she protests.
“Tell that to our bank account,” Sumit’s mom here with the layup.
“Yeah, I’m not ditching them even if you want me to,” Sumit has some lines.
“Well I’ll change course and be supportive!” Jenny exclaims. “So long as you say we’re going to be together forever, and that we love each other, and they just need to leave us be!”
“Yes, that has been most of our conversation over multiple seasons,” Sumit agrees, further underscoring why queue cards are not required here.
Just landing now in Bullshit, IL is Brittany, who still thinks anyone believes she’s serious about Yazan, despite “moving” to Jordan with just two suitcases and two weeks notice. Now she’s in Chicago with both of those suitcases, because she received an excuse to beat feet out of the Middle East for her urgent appointment anywhere else.
“It really helped Usman’s hip hop career to be on this show,” Brittany says. “I mean, you can’t court elderly men with braces fetishes forever. Now, check out this lyric about Middle Eastern money and bank account access. Edgy, right?”
“Needs more baby,” Usman has notes.
“Did someone say baby?” Stay in your parental shakedown lane, Biniyam.
Brittany is upset that Yazan wants her to get married right away, because that’s her whole storyline, but this is difficult because she’s still married, and that’s her plot twist. They could have had a discussion or two about whether or not she’d be expected to transform into a completely different person, but prematurely selling her conversion plans to his family is Yazan storyline, and likely the origin of his future ass-kicking.
After her mother picks her up they have the same conversation she’s had with various people all season, and Brittney insists once again that she’s there to finalize her divorce. A master of observation, Brittney suspects that if Yazan’s fam knew about this they might be angry, so it’s a good thing she’s thousands of miles away and doesn’t care.
“Maybe you could stop being a liar,” Brittany’s mom has suggestions.
“No,” Brittany has retorts.
Britt breaks down the social media she’s being asked to sacrifice, and Britt’s mom tells her to be herself and just stay in Chicago, because no one believes this. Later they both walk out the house wearing furs, as one does to a divorce, and disappear inside the courthouse for three hours. When they emerge Brittany reports something incoherent about missing paperwork, because “oops” apparently takes three hours, and probably buys Brittany another three weeks away from Jordan.
In actual relationships, Kenny and Armando wrangle the unsettling assignment of ‘only non-toxic couple on screen,’ and were cast because the 90DF producers just want to destroy something beautiful. They’re en route to get Armando’s sparkle day-glo dream engine of a child, Hannah, and somehow Kenny looks even younger, proving that sex is the best skincare routine. As they get close to his family home, Armando’s throat tightens with anxiety, which worsens when he realizes that his entire family is there. They should have brought Kenny’s daughters as buffers, but they didn’t, so the pressure is on Truffles the dog, who is editing his memoir in the backseat. Armando takes his engagement ring off so that he can slowly roll out the news of their forthcoming nuptials , and Kenny is hurt but eats it, because he knows Armando’s family is not prepared.
In a 90DF first, Kenny has regrets about not bothering to learn the native language prior to meeting the parents, because it’s hard to sell yourself when you can’t offer anything beyond hello. He could have rocked Rosetta Stone all the way from Florida, so that was just time wasted on techno. What have you learned about house music, Kenny?
“Mucho gusto?” Kenny negotiates his new phrase.
“Como?” David, what are you doing in this segment?
Kenny is the first man Armando has brought home, and only the second person, and the pair has chosen to remain in Mexico for proximity to Armando’s extended family. The two families appraise each other in awkward silence that feels like home. After an initial round of introductions, Armando’s mother Virginia offers to take them upstairs Armando Sr hideout, where he’ll yell “go away!” Through a slot in the door. This is not exactly a good start, but it’s what Armando expected. After they linger outside his pouting place while Virginia has one of those clenched teeth “get the fuck out here” conversations that populated many 90s-era sitcoms, Armando Sr. finally emerges to appraise his son’s would-be husband. He greets Armando, and then all the color drains from his face and his eyes adopt the venom required to banish demons back to hell, and this is hello to Kenny. Then he returns to hiding.
Kenny and Virginia manage to bond a little when Kenny confesses that he misses his children terribly, and it was a difficult decision to leave them behind. Virginia starts crying, and Armando’s sister says that it’s not just about losing Armando, but losing Hannah, who they’ve helped raise since she was born, and it’s also not about Armando at all, apparently.
“The way this works is that I conceal everything about myself that makes them uncomfortable, and then they thank me by punishing me for whatever I share,” Armando explains. “Just kidding, that’s Fractalfay’s interpretation, which is super judge-y, because she has no tact. You should insert something thoughtful and nice here, because that’s me.”
Armando finally decides to just rip the fucking bandaid off and announce his engagement. He stands up and puts his ring back on, and everyone stares at them, as Kenny reports feeling, “Like animals in a zoo.” Instead of congratulations, his mom can only manage, “It’s your decision.” Ouch. Finally someone breaks the tension and says, “We’re invited!” And there’s timid laughter. Kenny is sad that Armando’s family sees their relationship as something to overcome instead of something to celebrate.
In her interview Virginia says that she would have wanted to hear about this first, away from everyone else, so she could be embarrassed and hurt for several days in advance. She also says that she has no intentions of telling Armando Sr about this development.
Throughout this whole mess, Kenny takes pains to empathize with how Armando’s mother must be feeling, his father, his relatives, but no one seems interested in empathizing with Kenny outside of Armando himself. By the end of the evening Kenny has deduced that he’s not even perceived as human, and you can tell by his face that he’s checked out of his default warmth in favor of the guarded skepticism reserved for street preachers and election seasons. Armando then awkwardly asks if they can stay there that night, and after a few more agonizing seconds, she manages an okay. Before she retreats to her own grief cave, Virginia says “welcome to the family” that doesn’t erase her actual facial expression, and they return to Armando’s old room to hide.
Kenny doesn’t feel remotely welcome, and who could blame him. He also doesn’t want to let Armando’s dad off the hook just because there are cultural differences, and it seems likely that their inability to appreciate Armando is going to lead Kenny to put his balls on the table and ask them to observe. “It’s almost like what Armando warned me about is true,” Kenny says. “I just don’t want anyone to dislike me. Ever.”
“We don’t dislike you, Kenny,” says the gnomes, who have emerged from hiding to plant a protective toadstool behind him. “We’ve brought you this necklace of dancing animals to preserve your golden glow.”
“We like you too!” Sings the animated birds that have manifested in the backdrop, to hold a tiny ‘congratulations’ banner between them.
Meanwhile, Ari is still disappointed that Ethiopia is nothing like the brochure, but she’s willing to play the part of Veruca Salt as pregnant lady. The hairstyle that anchored her relationship is no longer happening on Biniyam’s head, and she’s struggling to adjust to life without her parents doing everything for her, but her mom did pin a note to Ari’s shirt with her phone number on it in case she wanders off.
After some time considering their options, they pass on the expensive apartment, and find a place with a bathroom and kitchen that still offers Ari something to complain about, which is apparently the couch. Real talk: As I type this, there are two men in the kitchen of my rented apartment, cutting a giant hole in the ceiling, because the roof is caving in. This hole will then be covered in plastic, and abandoned for an uncertain amount of time. If Ari set foot in this dilapidated shack that is paradise by Portland rental standards, she would lose consciousness and not recover until I dragged her by the ankle to a wealthy shopping district and abandoned her in the linens section of a department store.
Binyam doesn’t make enough coin playing ass-bongos to keep them in food and shelter, but he knows Ari’s mother is going to firehose them in America, so he might as well maintain his evening disappearance schedule. Sure enough, Ari reports that her mom is going to import all their baby needs, and she’s already sent a list, and Biniyam nearly swoons in ecstasy. She then says that while Biniyam is not making enough money for her standards, he’s also expected to stay home with her the first month, and there’s no mention of what kind of support the country offers to new parents (if any).
“I’ve never lived in a college dorm,” Ari explains. “I don’t see why I would, when there are all those abandoned mansions around the campus. Yes, they say, “eviction notice” on the front, but I think it’s really nice of the landlord to let them know. This is long before my difficult life as a international traveler ignited. See, I’m prepared.”
“Have you thought about vaguely alluding to non-specific ‘work’ you do for your dad, to keep the haters at bay?” Libby has thoughts.
“Oh, I already do that. I call it ‘freelance writer who also works for her dad’.”
“So long as I can keep smacking ass and calling it a payday, this is good for me,” Biniyam is so all-aboard he’s pulling the train whistle.
“Yes, just be very alpha male when you are demanding gender norms only when they suit you,” Andrei is also reporting for advice dispersement.
Later, they shop for a used car together, and a salesperson dares to math at Ari, who promptly dissolves. “This can’t be right,” she cries. “My car wasn’t this expensive when my parents bought it for me!”
Biniyam tries to explain to Ari that she’s in a different country, so Ari calls her mom to see if that’s really true. Her mom then offers to come by and give the country a second inspection, and Ari says yes and starts crying into the phone, clutching the receiver and demanding an exit option from this permanent camping trip.
“Ari, this car is something we need,” Biniyam hustles. “No, I don’t have the money for it. But we need it if you know what I mean.”
“Of course I don’t mind taking money from Ari’s parents,” Biniyam clarifies in his interview, as if there were any questions. “Why do you think I’m at this car lot?”
“I never wonder if I’m asking too much,” Ari whines, throwing herself on the floor and demanding someone unwrap a chocolate bar with a golden ticket.
Then they go to another prenatal appointment, where Ari asks the radiologist to play doctor.
“I’m the radiologist,” this poor bastard tries.
“Yeah, but can you tell me everything you see, what it means, and how we’re going to proceed?”
“I am still a radiologist.”
In the doctor’s office we learn that Ari’s amniotic fluid is less than it should be, and the baby is still breach, so they’re going to have to perform a C-section. This breaks Ari’s melodrama dam, and she transforms into one part Nicholas Cage, one part Oprah from The Color Purple. “NOT THE BEES!” She screams. “All my life I’ve had to fight!”
“How much of a bonus do your parents award for c-section,” Biniyam wonders. “Like, ballpark figure.”
Milquetoast, aka Cheesestick, continues his international apology tour, while Melyza pulls an Evelin and double-dips dicks while he’s away, and somehow still claims the moral high ground. Tim is at another job interview, and remains bummed that no one thought to learn English before he arrived. The most important part of this segment is the robust money tree plant in the background, teasing Tim about his rapidly shrinking bank account. Can someone give this guy a few spritzes real quick? Can this be Tim’s job?
Meanwhile, Melyza is working out a way to justify being almost as bad as Tim.
“I don’t know how this works exactly,” Melyza is new here. “But I’m disappointed in Tim, which is a Get Some Dick Free card by my estimate. I’m looking forward to humiliating him on television.”
For reassurance that she continues to be better than Cheesestick and her lying is justified, she meets up with everyone she knows with aviator glasses. She tells her brother Miguel and friend David that she hasn’t told Tim about the wheel of dicks she spun after he cheated on her, and thinks she’s entitled to ‘live her life’ while Tim is entitled to ‘assume he’s still in hers.’
The drumroll to her predictable confession to her friends is played up like a telenovella, and I’d like to extend my gratitude to David for removing his sunglasses to better communicate his side-eye before unfurling the intense question: “Como?”
“I love you,” Kenny has answers.
“I love you more,” So does Armando.
And with that, the warning shot for the rest of our season has been fired! Still to come: Ari is inconsolable because that’s the only way she could possibly have a baby, Jenny is Jenny and has no responsibility for anything (ever), Deavan gets really excited about the possibility of Jihoon cheating on her and finds a way to sulk about a big wedding after sulking about money, Melyza and Cheesestick are super boring, Kenny and Armando are denied a wedding license because there is no justice, and Ari saves her baby from genital mutilation.
Thank you, Patreon supporters! Patreon.com/fractalfay
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2020.10.02 21:56 trifletruffles Samuel O'Quinn-murdered in Centreville, Mississippi on August 14, 1959-Closed Case Under the Civil Rights Division Emmett Till Act

58 year old Samuel O’Quinn was killed by two shotgun blasts around midnight as he entered his gated property named Whitaker Plantation on August 14, 1959 in Centreville, Mississippi. Samuel's daughter, Laura O'Quinn Smith and her brother, Clarence, immediately rushed outside and found their father shot outside of the front gate of his family's 235-acre land. Samuel later died in the arms of his wife, Ida O'Quinn, while being driven to Field Memorial Community Hospital by Clarence.
Samuel was on his way back home after picking up Ida and his 7 year old son Roy from a restaurant he owned. It was around 11:00 p.m. when she finished work. When Samuel reached Whitaker Plantation, he got out of the car to open their front gate and drive the car in. He was shot when he got back out of the car to shut the gate. While both Mississippi police and the FBI investigated the shooting, no suspects were ever identified and Samuel's murder remains unsolved.
Samuel was a graduate of the Tuskegee Institute. He was a certified plumber, electrician, and carpenter; in fact, he was the only plumber in the small town of Centreville which had a population of 1200 people. After working as the assistant town engineer, he opened O'Quinn's Café with Ida in 1937. He also owned and operated 33 jukeboxes throughout southwest Mississippi. In the mid-1940s, he obtained his mortician's license and operated a funeral home. He also began investing in real estate eventually owning most of the properties in the Quarters where many of Centreville's black families lived. He bought the Whitaker Plantation on Highway 33 in the late 1940s and began farming peppers, soy beans, and cotton.
On Sundays, Samuel went to various churches selling burial policies. During these visits, he also organized benevolent associations which were established to help community members in need. One of Samuel's sons, Rance, explained "it was kind of a self-help group, but they later grew, and every time you organize people, others get suspicious."
There are various theories as to who killed Samuel and why. One of the theories links Samuel's murder to his involvement in the NAACP. Another theory posits that he may have been murdered by someone interested in obtaining his land as he was a prosperous and successful businessman.
2008 FBI investigation:
The FBI began investigating Samuel's murder in 2008 pursuant to the Department of Justice's Cold Case Initiative instituted under the Emmett Till Unsolved Civil Rights Crime Act. As the original FBI file was lost, the FBI sent out a press release in early 2009 so it could gather further information about Samuel's murder. The FBI also interviewed various Centreville residents and members of Samuel's family.
In a May 2009 phone interview, [name redacted] stated that he had been told that a black man named Willie Taplin had confessed to killing Samuel. According to [name redacted], Willie was in the hospital, on his death bed, when he asked to see [name redacted #2]; [name redacted #2] did not end up visiting Willie but Willie confessed to an unidentified person that the White Citizen Council had given him a car and money to kill Samuel. [Name redacted # 2] eventually heard about Willie's confession. During the FBI phone interview, [Name redacted] also stated that Digger White, a court clerk [name redacted], and Clay Tucker would have further information on Samuel's murder but did not provide any specific details.
The FBI interviewed [name redacted #2] who stated that Samuel was killed by two black men, Frank Robinson and a man with the last name Talbin. [Name redacted #2] said that Frank was a former military marksman and that Talbin confessed to the murder before his death. Samuel was killed because because white people in the community felt he "was bringing about black awareness” in the community.
It appears both men in the preceding paragraphs are referring to the same person with the last name of Taplin or Talbin. It is of note that neither man directly spoke to Willie and the information relayed is hearsay from an unidentified individual who Willie confessed to on his death bed.
Based on the above information, the FBI tried to locate Digger White, Clay Tucker, the former court clerk with the last name [redacted], and Frank Robinson. On June 27, 2011, the FBI interviewed Jimmy Reese, Chief of Police of the Centreville Police Department. Chief Reese was only 6 years old when Samuel was murdered but remembered him nevertheless because Samuel had bought land from Chief Reese's family a few years before his murder. Chief Reese had heard that Frank murdered Samuel “at the behest of white men or in a dispute over a woman.” Chief Reese confirmed that Frank died some time in the 1970's along with Digger White and Clay Tucker. The FBI could not locate court clerk with the last name [redacted].
As the FBI was not able to develop any new leads, the Department of Justice closed the case. Samuel's murder remains unsolved.
A 2008 article noted that Laura and Clarence, then 81 and 80 respectively, lived in Springfield, Massachusetts, along with two other siblings, Phalba and Rance. Regarding the FBI investigation, Phalba remarked that "it would really help a lot for all of us to know what happened."
Links:
https://www.justice.gov/crt/case-document/samuel-o-quinn-notice-close-file
https://hungryblues.net/2008/03/02/new-article-the-legacy-of-a-murde
https://archives.fbi.gov/archives/jackson/press-releases/2009/civilrights021209.htm
I came across the Department of Justice’s cold case initiative (Emmett Till Civil Rights Act) while reading an article discussing journalists’ efforts to install a billboard on an Arkansas highway aimed at solving the 1954 lynching of Isadore Banks. The Civil Rights Division of the United States Department of Justice launched a website (linked above) to make information about the department’s investigation of cold cases from the Civil Rights Era more accessible to the public. As a result of the initiative, the Department of Justice has prosecuted and convicted Edgar Ray Killen for the 1964 murders of three civil rights workers in Philadelphia, Mississippi (the "Mississippi Burning" case); he is the eighth defendant convicted. The Department has also been able to charge and convict perpetrators of the 1963 Sixteenth Street Baptist Church bombing in Birmingham, Alabama and they secured a life sentence for James Ford Seale for the kidnapping and murder of two teenagers in Franklin County, Mississippi in 1964.
Unfortunately, many cases which were submitted to the Department of Justice remain unsolved due to the passage of time resulting in evidentiary and legal barriers. In each case that is not prosecutable, the Department of Justice wrote a closing memorandum explaining the investigative steps taken and the basis for their conclusion. To date, the Department of Justice has uploaded 115 closing memos. I hope to be able to post on all of the closed cases as I share in the belief with the Department of Justice that “these stories should be told [as] there is value in a public reckoning with the history of racial violence and the complicity of government officials.”
Other posts from the Department of Justice's Cold Case Initiative:
  1. Isadore Banks-unsolved murder in Marion, Arkansas-June 1954
https://www.reddit.com/UnresolvedMysteries/comments/h03esj/isadore_bankslynched_in_marion_arkansas_on_june_8/
  1. Willie Joe Sanford-unsolved murder in Hawkinsville, Georgia-March 1957
https://www.reddit.com/UnresolvedMysteries/comments/h9v61n/willie_joe_sanfordfound_murdered_nea
  1. Ann Thomas-unsolved murder in San Antonio, Texas-April 1969
https://www.reddit.com/UnresolvedMysteries/comments/hdtv4b/ann_thomasfound_murdered_in_san_antonio_texas_on/
  1. Thad Christian-murdered on August 30, 1965 in Central City, Alabama
https://www.reddit.com/UnresolvedMysteries/comments/i4fetd/thad_christianmurdered_on_august_30_1965_in/
  1. Silas Caston-killed on March 1, 1964 by a Hinds County Sheriff’s Office Deputy in Jackson, Mississippi
https://www.reddit.com/UnresolvedMysteries/comments/idx701/silas_castonkilled_on_march_1_1964_by_a_hinds/
  1. Clifford "Clifton" Walker-unsolved murder in Woodville, Mississippi-February 1964
https://www.reddit.com/UnresolvedMysteries/comments/ihkenq/clifford_clifton_walkerfound_murdered_in_his_ca
  1. Jasper Greenwood- his badly decomposed body was found in Vicksburg, Mississippi in June 1964
https://www.reddit.com/UnresolvedMysteries/comments/iqucf9/jasper_greenwoodhis_badly_decomposed_body_was/
  1. Mattie Greene-unsolved murder in Ringgold, Georgia on May 19, 1960
https://www.reddit.com/UnresolvedMysteries/comments/izo5o4/mattie_greenekilled_in_a_bomb_explosion_in/
submitted by trifletruffles to UnresolvedMysteries [link] [comments]


2020.09.30 20:48 DontTrimYourAntlers Confessions of a Recovering Nice Guy

Hey Moonhorse. I love your channel. I like the way you tell stories, and I’d like for you to tell mine if you want to. It’s about my journey out of the kneckbeard mindset. Honestly, I could write a whole book about this that would bury Scott Pilgrim for eternity, but I’ll give you the short version. It starts kind of light, but I’m gonna get pretty deep with it, so I might pour a drink if I were you.
At the time, I was your typical internet role playing, cargo shorts wearing, its-not-cartoons-its-anime nice guy. I liked beer, cigarettes, Chinese food, hentai, and not much else. I didn’t have a personality beyond the media I consumed and a festering bog of depression and anxiety. I had no idea how to dress or groom myself and I brushed my teeth little enough to make my dear uncle Moonhorse gag. One of my favorite t-shirts was from Walmart and featured a wolf howling at a full moon. It was pretty bad.
I met my best friend when I was 20. She showed up at a mutual friend’s 420 party with a rich white kid on a $4,000 monthly allowance. The type that drives through the suburbs bumping Gucci Mane on the way to the neo-confederate manufacturing center otherwise known as “private Christian College in the South”. He was playing metal this time, which I later learned was a song she was showing him. This was Jax, at the time known by many as The Jackal. She had pixie cut pink hair and a goth ravergirl outfit that could turn a saint into a pagan. You’d think I would’ve been stricken, but I was such an edgelord that my brain said “player two has entered the arena”. I immediately switched the conversation to what obscure black metal I was listening to, and she asked me if I’d ever heard Polkadot Cadaver. I talked about the wild parties and massive bonfires we had out in the country, she regaled us with a tale of going nuts in a warehouse while a dj laid down the law. We were toe to toe, evenly matched, stoned out of our minds and locked in the ancient duel of the edgy goth kid.
But then she busted out the big guns. A joke about eating babies. The fucking nuclear bomb of edgelord cringe.
Somehow, I managed a riposte and narrowly escaped with my head, “Do you eat yours with ketchup or mustard?”
And she chuckled and said, “Barbecue sauce!”
We shared a genuine laugh and our first joke. That was the spark of our friendship and my immense crush on her. I didn’t see her for a while besides on Facebook, but we met again at some asshole’s apartment. I’m not calling him an asshole because of any mental dorito residue, but because he was a genuine fucking asshole. Once upon a day drink, he and his friend got target practice blowguns at the local army surplus store. I feel bad now because I’m the one who recommended them, seeing as my dad got me one when I was 12. I’m a country boy, and that’s the type of thing we play with, but we’re also usually being hovered over by our fathers as they reprimand us about weapons safety. It never occurred to me that they were gonna be such dumbasses with them. I wasn’t very socialized or educated in the stupidity of SOME people at the time, so I figured they just wanted to shoot at some cardboard boxes. But no, these two fools liked to shoot the needles across their apartment living room while it was full of people who were just trying to hang out and have a drink. Shortly after, one of them went through a bad breakup, and a few days after that a rabbit hopped in the yard. I won’t go into detail, but you can put two and two together. It triggered Jax and she broke down in tears. One of the dull lightbulbs tried to hug her and she screamed that she didn’t want to be touched just then. He stormed inside and pouted for the rest of the day, but I felt bad for her. Not in a “this will earn me brownie points with the girl I like” way, but in a my-heart-hurt-for-her way. It was a feeling I wasn’t used to which I later learned was empathy. I sat with her and we talked about our pasts for an hour or so and found out that we had a lot more in common than we thought. Similar thoughts, similar traumas, similar awkward teen days. We had a barbecue later that night, but Jax said she didn’t want to go because the same two guys who started all this mess were hosting it. I told her I thought she should go, that skipping it would only give them shit talking ammunition, and that she should walk up in there like she owned that house. She did just that because underneath all the insecurities, that’s the type of person she is. She wound up having a great time while the guy who tried to hug her pouted in his room all night.
After that, she didn’t come around much. She had loaned a book to the asshole months before, and when she asked for it back, he told her she would need to hire a delivery service to come pick it up. Being my chivalrous, neckbeardy self, I offered to bring the book to her. This act was definitely an attempt to earn brownie points with the girl I liked. It worked, and we started hanging out. We’d stack empty beer cups at a hipster café and spend hours laughing and roasting our fellow patrons. We’d talk about movies and life and she’d challenge my beliefs about women. I’d want to respond with black pill bullshit, but she was the girl I liked and I didn’t want to push her away, so instead I started responding with “What do you mean by that?” and she’d totally destroy my point. The thing is, it all made sense. I liked her, so I listened, and dammit if it didn’t change my entire view of women. I learned that her favorite artist was Todd Smith and her favorite holiday was Valentine’s Day, but she also taught me that a lot of women are scared of men and have many very valid reasons to be. She taught me that being nice isn’t a personality trait and that I should work on my empathy, compassion, and kindness. She gave me a space to show my emotions and taught me that I don’t have to feel ashamed for crying. Most importantly, she taught me that it’s ok to be depressed as long as I find a healthy way to express it and don’t become a fountain of toxicity. I had no concept of the journey that would become, but every day is another chip off the marble. I’ve since learned that it’s constant and careful work, like Michelangelo sculpting The David.
We kissed the day after Valentine’s Day. “The other guy”, in reality the guy she was hooking up with that I was in denial about, had totally screwed up her holiday and I decided to swoop in since they weren’t technically official yet. I gave her a heart shaped chocolate box full of weed and her lips brushed mine like a Monarch in the fall. At 21, it was my first kiss. We kissed the next day, longer this time, and I melted into a thousand drops of milk and honey. I was totally in love. My dumb ass decided to ask her the next day if she just wanted to be friends. I asked her this because I still believed in the friend zone and thought I’d go ahead and get that conversation out of the way, little knowing that she would interpret this as me stating that I just wanted to be friends. I realized my mistake and told her that I liked her, but it was obvious to everyone that I wasn’t ready for a relationship. She and her partner became official and she told me that she knew I liked her, but she didn’t feel the same way. I said I understood, but what I understood and what was true were totally different things. What was true was that she had decided that she wanted to remain friends because she didn’t want to put the expectations of a romantic relationship on me or lose me to a bad breakup, but I only understood why she wouldn’t want to date me. I understood that I was a loser. I understood that nobody would ever like me. I understood that nothing mattered and life had become hopeless.
Within the next year, Jax was forced into a financial situation that moved her to Florida with her parents, and I got my first DUI. I’d had a brush with the law before where I got put on 11/29 for a half a gram of weed, but I didn’t think much of that. Hell, my first DUI wasn’t even that big of a deal to me. I was depressed and falling into a void of black pill ideology, so what did I care about spending a night in jail? Once again on probation, I continued to be a fool, although I did learn some things during this time. I was regularly attending a small metal bar called Daisy Duke’s and met my people. I totally flipped the script. I always leaned toward dressing goth, but I bought a vest, and got my waist length hair (which I had started taking care of and braiding) shaved into a mohawk. I definitely did it to look like Ragnar, but it was a big step out of my bubble. Through making those friends, I started to understand what Jax meant when she said she wanted to stay friends. I started to escape the friend zone. More accurately, I started to realize that being friends with someone is an honor. The amount of trust and courage it takes to open yourself up to another person and hand them your darkest secrets and deepest thoughts with no expectations or judgement is staggering.
At Daisy Dukes I met a lot of cool people who wound up becoming like family, and they were always there when I was feeling down. They did nothing but encourage me, bolster my personality, and adore my laugh which I now let fly regularly and organically. I met them through a friend of mine who played the larp I had recently joined. It’s a combat orientated game that treats larp more like a full contact sport. Belegarth, for those of you who know what I’m talking about. I made a lot of friends, and in the absence of a shell to hide in, kept expanding my boundaries. It felt good, and I no longer lived in a constant state of anxious depression. I even had the opportunity to meet some strippers, and it turned out that they were super cool people who had misogyny down to a science, hustling dirty old rich men in the club for a couple thousand dollars per night. I watched one of them beat my friend who works at a rock quarry in a push up contest. They were badasses. I didn’t want to sleep with them, I didn’t want to date them. I wanted to be like them. I started becoming more flamboyant with my expressions and flaunting myself, walking into places like I owned them. It was still a little cringey, but it was a vital step in becoming who I am today.
The problem here was that I still hadn’t addressed the root of the issue, my trauma. Eventually I got into cocaine. One time I spent a thousand dollars on it in a week and wound up with a handful of blood after I blew my nose in the shower one morning. I decided to quit, but still wound up going back to jail twice for various reasons. I was out of control. My third and final stay in the jailhouse lasted nine days and gave me the opportunity to go cold turkey and decide to fix myself. I told them I wanted help and I thought I had ptsd. After singing Folsom Prison Blues with some other inmates in the courthouse holding cell, I found myself in the mental health court system with court ordered therapy, a PO who actually understood what I was going through, rehab, and a judge who let me know she wasn’t fucking around. I was more than happy to participate in the program if it meant not eating another government boloney sandwich. By the way, if you ever go to jail, don’t eat the cornflakes. They have rat shit in them. Best piece of advice I ever got. It’s sad how many people are in there for months and years at a time for nonviolent crimes. Kind of makes you think that maybe jails, prisons especially, prey on the poor and homeless, farm taxpayer money as they fill cells, and exploit prisoners as slave labor. I’m not saying I didn’t deserve to go to jail, that’s just, like, my opinion on the issue, man.
In jail, I spent 18 hours in the suicide box, which is nothing compared to how long they leave some of those poor souls in there. They throw you in a cell, naked except for a blanket, with a toilet, a sink, and a metal bench with no mattress. When you need to use the john, they don’t give you more toilet paper than you can survivably swallow. Do you know how much toilet paper you can survivably swallow? Not enough to wipe your ass with, haha. Needless to say, I forgot about all my stupid fucking girl problems. I had some real problems now. When I was let out, I literally skipped back into gen pop. I learned that while I should always strive to be a better version of myself, I should also find comfort in the things that I have; because, things can always get worse.
Jail was a trip to hell and back, but being on probation was one of the best things that ever happened to me. Proving myself when the sun was out and life was good didn’t mean anything. Proving myself only meant something when it was getting dark and my options were get a fire going or freeze to death. So I lit my tinder and stoked it. I dove head first into therapy, I learned everything I could about who I was and why I did the things that I do. I found validation and ease and a sense of self-confidence. Real self-confidence, not the performance bullshit I had once perceived as self-confidence. I admitted that I was bisexual and stopped pretending that I didn’t lose my virginity to one of my guy friends when I was 15, I finally had sex with a girl and had a lot of fun because she was very patient and basically walked me through it, I even got a pair of drop dead sexy boots from a local oddities shop along with some jewelry. I like to clack and jingle when I walk down hallways. I don’t know if that’s cringey or not, but it’s a mood.
About a month or so before I graduated con college, I got a job working the fish counter at a Whole Foods. It gave me a chance to develop my people skills and meet some really solid friends, one of which was my manager and the vocalist of a fucking rad local punk band called Stuck Lucky (support and promote your local music scene). Jax moved back to town and went to school for a master’s degree in counselling while I sold fish and lived in an apartment in an area of town that some would call rough. I lived there for a year, moved out and back into my dad’s house. Technically living at home, I couch surfed in town because home was 35 miles away and I didn’t have a car. It was almost like camping. I had the gear on my back and nothing else which usually included a couple changes of clothes, a phone charger, a book, and a pint of whiskey. I’d kicked my coke and opioid habits, but I didn’t have the will power to give up all my vices at once. To this day, I still smoke weed and drink albeit much less often than I used to.
I worked at Whole Foods for three years answering stupid questions, learning from an old man with a 20 year career as a commercial fisherman under his belt, and learning that if I didn’t break my people pleasing habit and stop taking shit I was going to go mad. I learned how to fillet a fish fucking perfectly. I had my own set of knives and everything. That’s totally beside the point of this story, but hell, I’m proud of that skill.
Since then, the pandemic’s hit and I have a job closer to home. I cut out a nice little place for myself in the pine trees on my dad’s property and I’m living in a tent. It’s kind of nice, gives me a chance to take a break and focus on the little things. Winter’s coming and I think current affairs are going to get a lot worse before they get better, so I’m going to buy a winter tent and a wood burning stove and stay out there for now. I’ve started going to the gym and it’s become my drug. I’ll still have a smoke or a drink with you, but since I no longer feel the need to escape my own mind, I don’t worry about it if I run out. I’ve been eating healthy and my digestive system has changed to where I can’t go back to pizza, wings, and beer on a daily basis. My mental health is the best it’s ever been and is getting better every day. Things that used to send me into weeks of misery now roll off me like water off a duck. I’ve developed a solid personality that other people enjoy. I’m magnetic, and I love it. I love myself and who I’ve become. I even love my past self because if I didn’t have that starting block I never would’ve taken the journey to learn what I know now. Existence is beautiful even at its darkest.
Here’s where I go deep, so buckle up.
To the men in the room: Because of Jax, I now know what it means that women are people. It means that they are human beings just like me. They are just as scared, just as insecure, and just trying to survive like everybody else. But the difference between me and them is that I will never be afraid to do something as simple as walking down the street. I wear a spikey vest with a Mjolnir (Thor’s hammer) back patch, either a kilt or black jeans, and Harley boots. I have the forearms of a 50 year old construction worker and the biceps to match. Nobody’s going to mess with me. But where I am comfortable, the 90 pound girl walking home from the closing shift fears for her life. Sexual assault is one of the great destroyers of people’s souls. Being sexually assaulted was the very soil that my seed of hate and self loathing was planted in, and it happened when I was very young. I have been dealing with this for twenty years, and I’m only now starting to learn how to manage the trauma and let it go. No human being should have to go through that and 1 in 4 women are forced to by slimy pieces of bottom-feeding worm shit that embody every aspect of the phrase “a wolf in sheep's clothing". ONE IN FUCKING FOUR. Like my dad says, “The foxes aren’t just in the chicken coop, the foxes built the damn coop to begin with.” That’s obviously not okay, but for some vile reason, we as a society allow it to happen when we say things like “she’s exaggerating”, "she was flirting", or “she was wearing blah blah fucking blah”. It’s not just sad, it’s incredibly disturbing, and if this does not mortify you, then you have forgotten what it means to be a human being. Greed pushed humans to enslave others. Greed pushed people to create hierarchies that turned women into subservient accessories on a social market. Greed is what keeps pushing Olympian-tier scum fucking bastards like Donald Trump into seats of power. Greed is the reason the planet is dying. Greed is why one of the largest and most expansive genocides in human history was committed to make room for vicious Conquistadors, European slave traders, and other such cannibals. This greed is exactly why I was a neckbeard. I wasn’t a neckbeard because I was bullied or because of my trauma, I was a neckbeard because I felt entitled to the tits and ass that were being pushed in the media I was consuming with no regard for the individualism or humanity of the women I was drooling over. I didn’t want a girlfriend, I wanted a commodity. I was a greedy child infected with toxic masculinity and patriarchal bullshit. Greed infects us from the CEO’s decimating the environment, to the piece of shit who guilt trips women into sleeping with him, to the boy who thinks he’s entitled to something he’s not. And what do they tell the people with naturally rebellious personalities? They push the idea that humans are a disease, that there’s nothing you can do about it, and the only solution is to kill off x amount of the population but why bother, we’re all going to die anyway. Just keep consuming, munch on your plate of shit and devour the people closest to you, you'll be fine. So you ultimately become apathetic and conform to the rebel-without-a-cause archetype or you turn into something rancid that never leaves the basement. In the best case: out of sight and out of mind, in the worst: a direct contributor to our collective suffering. Our Mother Earth is sick because we are sick. She is our living god and we continue to let powerful men abuse her just like we continue to let entitled men abuse women in our country. This. System. Is. Repulsive. We have to put a stop to it. Reading feminist literature is not enough. Sharing feminist memes is not enough. Condemning the patriarchy is not enough. We must organize with our sisters, end the reign of these tyrannical children, and confront misogyny and chauvinism wherever we see it. To quote Thomas Sankara, "Comrades, there is no true social revolution without the liberation of women. May my eyes never see and my feet never take me to a society where half the people are held in silence. I hear the roar of women’s silence. I sense the rumble of their storm and feel the fury of their revolt." End quote. I'll see you on the picket line.
I’m turning 28 in two weeks and I still don’t have a girlfriend, but I don’t really want one anymore. I want a partner. Someone who can take care of themself and live their own life but chooses to be with me because they want to, and I continue to strive to live up to that expectation because that’s only fair. More than that, it’s my responsibility as a human being. We should all, every single one of us, strive every day to be the best, most compassionate, most loving and empathetic versions of ourselves. It’s not easy, but it is necessary for our survival as a species. I believe that the reason I’m not a full blown incel right now is not simply because of education or a change of clothes, but because of baby steps that ultimately resulted in a spiritual awakening and a reconstruction of my perception of reality. It was never about the things I was learning, but how I applied those things to my every day behavior and inner dialogue. Theory is useless without application. I believe this journey is the cure for the virus, and my hope is that we all take it together. Heaven and Hell aren’t places you go after you die, they are what you create from this hurricane of existence. Imagine what we could achieve.
From my heart to yours, my fellow human being, I love you. Thank you for listening.
P.s. I got lots of stories about neckbeards, incels, and nice guys I met throughout the years. I promise they won't all end with rants about the state of things lol
submitted by DontTrimYourAntlers to MoonhorseStories [link] [comments]


2020.09.26 13:11 Hanurdock Unordinary Street

Chapter 3: An Unordinary Visit
Resolve can weaken when supernatural forces are at work. Like flowers in a field, truth conceals itself by looking like all the others. It is hard to see past the façade of normality and discover what lies therein. A bounty of rich knowledge divorced from what we see of reality. It is a treasure trove to be uncovered.
Lester spent a week researching the history of the district. Elaine became used to his notable absence at dinner time, bringing him a tray of food into the office and leaving without a word spoken. Lester’s work was all-consuming and she left him to sort out his thoughts and the new information on his own.
The King’s Road used to be a lot wider and lined with oak trees. A dusty path was the original road and horses and carriages used to use the well-worn pathway and enter a large Manor that housed all sorts of dignitaries and royals over the years. Recently, over the last sixty years or so suburban houses had cropped up all over the borough and had obliterated the once royal purpose. Instead, now a hotel remained of the original manor and a building company had set up it’s roots in the outbuildings for the last thirty years. The manor was still as crisp and fresh, having been renovated to it’s original grandeur, now hosting weddings and special occasions and the lush grounds served as primary photographic hotspots for newly weds.
The garden, given an innocuous title and barely even mentioned unless you really went looking for it was a hidden link to the past. Roses flowered from centuries ago and plants that were believed to be extinct still grew in the fertile soil. It was a fruitful space for growth and had an ageless feel to it; seemingly flourishing with the caretakers and gardeners love and gentle green fingers. The garden lay between the manor and the Dead End, with a church randomly popped in between the two. A cemetery lay on the other side of the main road which curved swiftly away from the Dead End and continued down to numerous houses and a more suburban setting.
The cemetery had no real interesting features except that the inhabitants were old, very old. The last burial had taken place in 1915 and the earliest was five hundred years prior. No-one knew who they were, the ones who lived beneath the soil as they seemed to have no relatives to come and visit them. Instead, the graves were left mainly unattended and a wild sprinkling of tall grasses had been growing beside the footpaths. The stones themselves seemed quite grandiose and there were several statues of angels and a winged dragon among them. It seemed quite out of place if this were a Christian graveyard but no-one really ever questioned why the dragon statue existed here. It was a cool monument now, an epic nod to fantasy that had become part of the landscape as much as the other tombs and symbolic Christian images inscribed in headstones dotted around the cemetery wall.
Lester found several photographs of the messages, or epitaphs, written on headstones and they all seemed a little, well, off.
To the light of my life. Who literally lit my life and kept me from falling about in the dark. Thank you for your guiding presence and for the eternal roses I keep at my bedside in your honour.
To the child who died in his sleep before his time. Before the teenage years awoke a brazen attitude and hell spawn motives. This child will be remembered.
Peace be to the one who rests here before the dawn breaks and morning calls begin. Let you find your soul at rest with the world and take our thoughts with you always.
This one had the mystical touch of many worlds. May you find solace in the world that follows. Pyramids were built when he was at his prime. Now his life has waned and the candle is out. Goodbye dear friend.
Lester finally decided to approach the dead-end again and try and work out what he was missing. It was yet another attempt to solve the mystery that had been plaguing him. He did not really know what he was looking for other than the fact that it would be unordinary.
As he drove up to the dead-end he parked opposite the church itself and walked down passed the graveyard and the entrance to the Gardens. It was a small road, truth be told. A small curving road to nothing. A small outbuilding was the only resident along this street and it looked like some sort of power hub to the local residents. A mast had sprung up since Lester’s last visit and stood above the trees as if reaching into the heavens to connect people.
A car was waiting idly near a bush with a bored driver periodically looking at his watch. He noted the driver was no-one he knew and walked towards him purposefully.
“Hullo there!” Lester knocked on the driver window and waited for the person inside to wind down the window.
A woman peered back at Lester suspiciously, her blonde hair a mess over her shoulders and her ears were hidden behind the mane of golden locks. Her eyes were bright green, almost eerily so. Her facial features were narrow and her nose peaked like an upturned vegetable.
“Who are you?” She asked, equal parts annoyance and impatience.
“Just waiting, like you.” Lester said at once.
“I haven’t seen you around.” The woman noted. “Dale is a small world. I know everyone who lives locally.”
“I’m new to the area.” Lester lied easily. “Just got my stripes, so to speak.”
“Ah, you are of SS origin. When did you find out about yourself? When you were a teenager or was the power concealed until you reached adulthood? Or maybe even later. I can tell from your eyes that it was much later. Well, welcome aboard.” The woman gestured to the passenger seat. “I can give you a lift as far as the Old Forge. Past that, well, you may even have to hitchhike.”
Lester opened the passenger door at once and slid inside easily. He had no idea what the woman was talking about but if she revealed the mystery then he would become what he needed to become. Even SS. What the hell was SS? Some sort of secret cult?
“Can I see?” The woman asked with a huge smile. “I really want to see you become a tiger.”
Lester took a deep breath to calm himself. Become a tiger? What the hell? “I’m afraid I am out of juice on that front. Too many excursions in the past month. I’m spent.”
“Fair enough.” The woman said at once. “I shouldn’t really be asking you this yet. Rules and all. I hate rules, don’t you? My name is Alice. Alice Teacake. Yourself?”
“Danny,” Lester shook the woman’s proffered hand at once. But then an idea struck. His cover was Danny Westbrook but a finer, no sillier, name had come to mind when Alice revealed her last name as Teacake. “Danny Plushbutton. Nice to make your acquaintance.”
Alice shook the hand and smiled. There was no reaction to the crazy name. A kind of strange understanding had replaced any suspicion and both of them fell into an easy silence, just waiting.
Another car rolled up behind them. Alice honked her horn and the other driver reciprocated. It was a very strange sounding horn that greeted them. A cross between a bull roar and a set of bells. Lester nodded to Alice as if the sound was the most normal sound in the entire world.
“Almost time.” Alice sighed in relief. “Five minutes and then go time.”
“How long you staying in Dale?” Lester asked.
“Oh silly. I don’t actually live in Dale. I’m just passing through. Mazoria is a big place, you know. Not just that one village. In fact, I am travelling to Setaclys but there is no direct route, as you know. I have to take the journey in stages. Plan my route as the gate from Mazoria to Setaclys shifts every three weeks. Damn pain in my side, is what it is.”
“Never seen the rest of Mazoria.” Lester said at once, heart thumping in his chest. Mazoria. It had a magical sound and his heart thudded so deeply it was almost painful.
“You really don’t want to.” Alice said at once. “Too much danger out there in the wild. The village is protected from the rest of the world. The animals don’t tend to break through the barrier. Unless the protection is down for some reason. In this world it would be called an electricity cut. Mazoria doesn’t really have a term for that.”
“Of course.” Lester said. “But electricity cut works fine for now.”
“It does, doesn’t it.” Alice grinned. “I have elven ancestry, dates back almost four thousand years. I’ve seen enough of them during my long lifetime. Want to see them?”
Lester gulped and nodded.
Alice shook her fine mane back and her ears were revealed at last. Long pointy things that swivelled towards sudden sounds, like a cat’s would. Lester reminded himself to breathe and took in as much detail about her strange appearance as he could. Pink and constantly twitching, no wonder she hid her ears behind her hair. They were so obviously… magical.
“At last!” Alice coughed as the swirling air began to take shape in front of the car. Lester held his breath again as the vortex appeared, like a sideways tornado right in front of them. His eyes were fixed to the sight as the magical doorway opened before him like a mirror clearing of condensation.
Before him was another road, leading to somewhere not of this earth. Lester realised he had been holding his breath for too long and exhaled sharply, face red from the lack of oxygen.
“You okay?” Alice asked, concerned.
“Yeah, just holding my breath because of hiccups.” Lester explained.
He felt as though he were in a trance. As if he were going to wake from the weirdest dream of his life. Turning to Alice, he saw her start to drive forward slowly and they gently rolled through the portal and into another world.
It was a glorious moment, the slight friction he felt between the worlds made his hair stand on end and goose bumps break out on his arms. Lester rubbed the limbs self-consciously and tried to take in every detail around himself as they continued the drive onward, through the small village of magical businesses.
“I can get out here.” Lester mumbled and Alice nodded curtly. She stopped at the roadside and looked at Lester worriedly.
“Are you sure you’re okay? You look pale.” Alice asked, biting her lower lip nervously.
“I’m fine. Think I’ll walk from here.” Lester opened the passenger door and got out as if in a trance still.
“Can I call someone to come pick you up? Maybe you could give me the name of someone local and I’ll ask them to come for you?” Alice leaned over and tried to grab Lester’s arm.
“No, no. Thanks for the life, Alice. It was nice meeting you.” Lester walked off, heading towards Coffee Cup Cafe with a blank expression on his face.
The bell tinkled as Lester stepped inside the shop, noting the seats in the back and the smell of coffee was prominent from the front of the counter.
“Hullo there young man.” A woman emerged from a room at the back of the bakery, large of build and with a friendly expression on her face. She smiled cheerfully at Lester.
“May I have a drink please?” Lester said absently and the woman nodded in agreement.
“Of course. We serve coffee, tea, iced tea, iced Mango Juice, Pormonie Shots and Passion Fruit Curdle.” The lady recited at once.
“Can I try a Pormonie Shot please?” Lester asked at once.
“Sure thing, sweetie. Go sit down and make yourself at home. I’ll bring one over shortly.”
Lester walked over to the seating area and waited for the woman to return.
Instead, the front door opened and a man appeared, a tall man with a wizard hat sticking up at a funny angle. The man walked over to Lester’s table and sat beside him, looking at him intently.
Lester gulped.
“I think it’s best that you come with me now.” The mysterious man said ominously as he guided Lester out of the café and along the road to a large house located six doors down.

#Dale #Fantasy #Magic #Mazoria #Portals #Setaclys #UnordinaryStreet #Hannurdock #GAPrice
submitted by Hanurdock to u/Hanurdock [link] [comments]


2020.09.18 19:54 JewelHart Tales of Elhaanai by Nicole P Thomas

Nicole Thomas’s story-telling is crisp and clear. Well written and easy-to-read. It is perfect for older children and younger teenagers. A very enjoyable Christian fantasy and I look forward to the next installment. Sweet characters and a good plot make this novel enjoyable, and therefore Elhaanai by Nicole Thomas comes highly recommended by Chick Lit Café.
submitted by JewelHart to booksuggestions [link] [comments]


2020.09.18 17:51 jenjaybilly [rant] I hate my town and my life

I’m a Buddhist panaro half chinese girl who lives in a very small town. I don’t even really need to explain. The town is mostly populated by either literal boomers or all god loving people. I wish I was joking but like the people are ancient here and there are about 12 churches in my town. Now not saying that all of them are bad, I’ve met old people who are, at least, tolerant of the community and good Christians who are in support of us. But the majority isn’t like that. I constantly feel like my opinions, beliefs and just my existence doesn’t matter. I got called disgusting because of my sexuality by two guys, one is or was a friend, in the middle of our classroom and the seven other people around me (including one being my BEST FRIEND who btw is also bi and yes, all of them heard it, he wasn’t exactly quiet) just sat there. They didn’t come to my rescue, they didn’t say anything but when those guys were using the f slur ( just in case it wasn’t clear, a slur towards the community not the other word) earlier, those people were quick to shut them down. I get called an ABOMINATION at work (a Café which my parents own and to top it off, they are very very close family friends, they’ve literally seen me grow up) and everyone was quick to comfort me when I was crying in the back because I was PHYSICALLY scared by the hatred in her eyes but neither my managers, coworkers, or MOTHER told them anything and I still had to wait on them. It’s so suffocating living in a town where I don’t belong, the only thing I have going for me is that I’m pretty basic other than the whole liberal/conservative-Buddhist-asian-girl thing. I constantly feel like I need to be doing things to fit in but whenever I do something that I enjoy that doesn’t fit the status quo i get shitted on for it. I only have one more year in this town as I’m a senior but it’s so frustrating that I have to fight for validation because I’m a minority in every aspect.
submitted by jenjaybilly to LGBTeens [link] [comments]


2020.09.16 12:53 Lucky0505 Tunnels underneath the Citadel of Namur.

Citadel Namur is the biggest citadel of Europe and has reigned strong through every major conflict since the invention of well.. Christianity.
The thing is massive. We're talking 90 meters high and occupying the acreage of a small town. And underneath it al lies a network of tunnels spanning 4,4 miles.
This is where our story begins on a dreary winters day. My sister, girlfriend and me set out on a road trip towards nowhere but decided we must get there fast because the light would be failing early on a day like this.
So I put the pedal to the metal and pushed my ratchety French hunk of misery through the rain at suchs speeds that would get us to our unknown relatively fast but at a considerable tradeoff to safety.
Inside the car the speakers keep asking its occupants to order coffee in Italian and the occupants keep scream laughing back they want coffee in a language that befuddled the little French car. Nevertheless it took the mistreatment with a groaning engine, but steaming at the windows as the repetitions of the Belgian road jolt took over the cadence of the life inside it.
150 miles further and proficient in Italian coffee ordering we finally found a Belgian barista that didn't understand Italian.
We waited out the worst of the weather underneath his café's red canopy. The rain quietly tapping on the cloth as we sat staring over the river Maas at the behemoth citadel that loomed over the town against the slate backdrop of the chilly days end.
We decided then and there that this citadel was the reason we were here and we should check it out so we hiked halfway up the citadels winding cobble roads until we found a good place to have a beer.
It's here that a beer stained placemat taught us that this citadel has 4,4 miles of tunnels underneath it, half a mile of which was opened up to the public! So my mind immediately went: damn, that's nearly 4 miles of virgin tunnels to explore!!
So when we found a badly chained off gate, we slipped into the twilight it fenced off. Two bends later and all light was a distant memory that was soon remembered at the lights of our phones.
"No service" I say out loud like a muppet. And it was almost as if I could see the stupidity of my words bounce off the 10 ft thick walls as the echo refused to let it be unheard.
"IFdiotol of a Took!!" my sister and girl chimed out of unison.
And with those remarks we set off in good spirits. Spirits that quickly dampened when the tunnel started going down in angle and height. It was a boring 5 minute descent. That tunnel finally opened up into a bendy stretch of crosssections that we explored without finding anything.
After an hour we found an empty chair at the end of a dead end. As we wondered out loud who would sit here all alone we felt the darkness. You know the feeling.
What are we doing here? We were not in the renovated bit and we hadn't seen the electrical wiring over our heads for quite some time. Pretty sure we would have to do some serious backtracking because none of us knew which turns we had taken. Besides. It was a few minutes before closing hours, maybe they close the gates better after dark!
We decided we would turn back, it was the logical choice and certainly not because we were afraid.
We wandered into a dead end tunnel with rows of dungeons with rusted and crooked gates. Creepy. Ok. We wanted out. The darkness was too dark and the tunnels to confining and remote. So we turned around to walk back where we came from.
It was at that moment we started hearing a slight sound. As we stood there silently listening it had a hint of music.
Finally! We found the cheesy canny speakers at the entrance! And it made sense until my sister pointed out that the tourist traps had all closed about an hour ago and we just came from there and didn't hear anything..
As we moved closer towards the entrance of the tunnel we slowly realized the sound was chanting and many footsteps upon the wet stone. It was coming towards us.
At this point we were halfway down a long straight dungeon tunnel with nowhere to go but forwards, backwards to the dead end or in a cell! We were trapped.
When we saw the first reflection of flickering light appear at the far end of the tunnels bend we went into the cell and turned off our cell phone lights.
We peered around the corner of our cell to see row upon row of robed candle bearers appear. Hooded faces black holes in the candle light as to hide their chanting mouths. Their leader in front and the disciples almost touching the side walls with their shoulders as they marched 4 man wide.
Fuck. This.
We try our best to blend in with the wall of our deathtrap as we envision every 90s movie about ritual sacrifice ever made.
Pretty sure I told my sister I love her.
As their chanting becomes unbearably loud we watch them marching past in horror. We shat bricks.
All it takes is one of these satan worshippers to look sideways amd we're toast! One cough and the game's up..
As we stood there holding our hands and breath we started seeing normally dressed housemothers and children following while videotaping the procession.
Wtf is this?! Are they part of it or?
It took more time than I care to admit to realize that it was some fucked up tour. So we gladly tagged along, learned that the dungeons were powder rooms and exited a bit more knowledgeable and in the proud possesion of the strongest story we know of, but with video evidence to back it up!
If you want to see it let me know, I'll ask my sister to send it.
submitted by Lucky0505 to urbanexploration [link] [comments]


2020.09.10 03:43 Pretty_iin_Pink NSW reports 5 new local cases and 2 new international cases

NSW reports 5 new local cases and 2 new international cases

New cases reported in the last 24 hours

  • 2 are returned travellers in hotel quarantine
  • 5 are locally acquired and are linked to a known cluster or close contact:
    • 1 student who attends St Paul's college in Greystaines; 2 linked to Concord Hospital [1 staff member, 1 close contact of a previous case = 14, in total - source unknown]; 2 cases in South Eastern Sydney, who both reported visiting the Eastern Suburbs Legion Club at Waverley.
  • New Public Health Alert: Public health alert - Eastern Suburbs Legion Club

Cases to date - last updated 4:45 PM [10/09]

Click on the image or this caption to view/enlarge table.

Sources of confirmed cases - last updated 7:00 PM [10/09]

NSW Health has updated the missing data that I reported yesterday. The discrepancy between the 1 additional overseas case, and missing local known case from the 6th has been resolved; I think our data friends at NSW Health were a little sleepy when updating the data yesterday - lol. One unknown case from 6th has now also been reclassified as known - hoorah!
Click on the image or this caption to view/enlarge table.

Recent clusters - last updated 11:48 AM [10/09]

Cluster Last 24 hours TOTAL Reported
Sydney CBD +0 68 Sept: 9, 8, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2. Aug: 31, 30, 29, 28, 27.
St Paul’s Greystanes +1 14 Sept:10, 4, 3, 2
Concord/Liverpool Hospital* +2 14 Concord = Sept: 10, 9, 8, 7. Liverpool = Sept: 7, 6, 4, 1. Aug: 13.
Reddam Early Learning Centre, Lindfield +0 3 Sept: 1. Aug: 30.
\The case reported on the 06/07 worked at both Concord Hospital ED) and Liverpool Hospital ED while potentially infectious. Therefore, it is probable that this case is the source of the first Concord Hospital ED case \07/09]. In total, NSW Health reports that there are 12 people associated with this cluster, 8 of whom are HCWs, 1 hospital visitor, 1 patient and 2 household contacts of the patient [09/09]. While this cluster was first confined to the EDs of each hospital, Dr Chant advises that it is likely to have been transmitted to other areas of the hospital [09/09].)

Recently affected educational institutions - last updated 11:47 AM [10/09]

School Suburb LGA Last 24 hours TOTAL Reported
Kincoppal Rose Bay School Rose Bay Waverley - 3 Sept: 8, 6
Regents Park Christian School Regents Park Canterbury-Bankstown/Cumberland - 1 Sept: 3
Girraween Public School Girraween Cumberland - 2 Sept: 2, 1
St Paul's Catholic College Greystanes Cumberland +1 5 Sept:10, 1. Aug: 30
Homebush Public School Homebush Strathfield - 0 Sept: 1. Aug: 28
Double Bay Public School Double Bay Woollahra - 1 Aug: 28
St Gertrude's Catholic Primary School Smithfield Fairfield - 1 Aug: 28
Ryde Secondary College Ryde Ryde - 1 Aug: 28
Riverstone High School Riverstone Blacktown - 1 Aug: 26
Wyndham College Quakers Hill Blacktown - 1 Aug: 26

Latest COVID-19 case locations in NSW - as of 10/09 [11:34 AM]

Please view the NSW Gov website for the most up to date information, including information concerning additional locations and Sydney bus and train routes where you are required to monitor yourself for COVID-19 symptoms.
Increased testing and surveillance Self-isolate and get tested immediately
Bankstown (suburb) Waverley: Eastern Suburbs Legion Club [10/09]
Cumberland LGA Ashfield: New Shanghai Night restaurant [09/09]
Fairfield LGA Ashfield: The Crocodile Farm Hotel [09/09]
Ku-ring-gai LGA Concord: Paperboy Café [08/09]
Liverpool LGA Epping: Fitness Plus [08/09]
Mt Druitt (suburb) Moorebank: New Brighton Golf Club
Parramatta LGA Newtown: It’s Time for Thai restaurant
Randwick LGA Newtown: Kuleto's Cocktail Bar
Sutherland LGA Oatlands: Oatlands Golf Club [08/09]
Eastern part of City of Sydney LGA Paddington: Four in Hand Pub
Waverley LGA Parramatta: Albion Hotel [09/09]
Willoughby LGA Prestons: Life in the Spirit Ministry
Woollahra LGA Randwick: Fitness First
Sydney: City Tattersalls Fitness Centre
Sydney: Hyde Park Medical Centre

Also see: Recent NSW media releases and public health alerts

Sources:
submitted by Pretty_iin_Pink to CoronavirusDownunder [link] [comments]


2020.09.09 03:12 Pretty_iin_Pink NSW reports 8 local cases and 1 overseas

NSW reports 8 local cases and 1 overseas

New cases reported in the last 24 hours

  • 1 is a returned traveller in hotel quarantine
  • 9 are locally acquired:
    • 7 are linked to a known case or cluster (1 linked to City Tattersalls Club Fitness Centre gym; 1 household linked to CBD cluster [68 total]; 5 linked to Concord Hospital = 1 patient, 2 household contacts of patient and 2 HCWs.
    • 1 case is under investigation from South Eastern Sydney (postcode info will be provided in the 'sources of confirmed cases' table below when the data is available).

Cases to date - last updated 6:56 PM [08/09]

Click on the image or this caption to view/enlarge table.

Sources of confirmed cases - last updated 3:18 PM [08/09]

I have not been able to update this table today [09/09]. NSW Health has not released today's data and has removed yesterday's data from the dataset. On the 6th, 1 case was identified as a local and linked to a known cluster [Burwood]. This is no longer in the updated dataset, and there is instead 1 new entry for the 6th, an overseas case. As soon as new information is available I will update the below table, or tomorrow's post.
Click on the image or this caption to view/enlarge table.

Recent clusters - last updated 11:22 AM [09/09]

Cluster Last 24 hours TOTAL Reported
Sydney CBD +2 68 Sept: 9, 8, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2. Aug: 31, 30, 29, 28, 27.
St Paul’s Greystanes +0 13 Sept: 4, 3, 2
Concord/Liverpool Hospital* +5 12 Concord = Sept: 9, 8, 7. Liverpool = Sept: 7, 6, 4, 1. Aug: 13.
Reddam Early Learning Centre, Lindfield +0 3 Sept: 1. Aug: 30.
*The case reported on the 06/07 worked at both Concord Hospital ED and Liverpool Hospital ED while potentially infectious. Therefore, it is probable that this case is the source of the first Concord Hospital ED case [07/09]. In total, NSW Health reports that there are 12 people associated with this cluster, 8 of whom are HCWs, 1 hospital visitor, 1 patient and 2 household contacts of the patient [09/09]. While this cluster was first confined to the EDs of each hospital, Dr Chant advises that it is likely to have been transmitted to other areas of the hospital [09/09].

Recently affected educational institutions - last updated 11:20 AM [09/09]

School Suburb LGA Last 24 hours TOTAL Reported
Kincoppal Rose Bay School Rose Bay Waverley - 3 Sept: 8, 6
Regents Park Christian School Regents Park Canterbury-Bankstown/Cumberland - 1 Sept: 3
Girraween Public School Girraween Cumberland - 2 Sept: 2, 1
St Paul's Catholic College Greystanes Cumberland - 4 Sept: 1. Aug: 30
Homebush Public School Homebush Strathfield - 0 Sept: 1. Aug: 28
Double Bay Public School Double Bay Woollahra - 1 Aug: 28
St Gertrude's Catholic Primary School Smithfield Fairfield - 1 Aug: 28
Ryde Secondary College Ryde Ryde - 1 Aug: 28
Riverstone High School Riverstone Blacktown - 1 Aug: 26
Wyndham College Quakers Hill Blacktown - 1 Aug: 26

Latest COVID-19 case locations in NSW - as of 09/09 [11:38 AM]

Please view the NSW Gov website for the most up to date information, including information concerning additional locations and Sydney bus and train routes where you are required to monitor yourself for COVID-19 symptoms.
Increased testing and surveillance Self-isolate and get tested immediately
Bankstown (suburb) Ashfield:New Shanghai Night restaurant [09/09]
Cumberland LGA Ashfield: The Crocodile Farm Hotel [09/09]
Fairfield LGA Concord: Paperboy Café [08/09]
Ku-ring-gai LGA Epping: Fitness Plus [08/09]
Liverpool LGA Moorebank: New Brighton Golf Club
Mt Druitt (suburb) Newtown: It’s Time for Thai restaurant
Parramatta LGA Newtown: Kuleto's Cocktail Bar
Randwick LGA Oatlands: Oatlands Golf Club [08/09]
Sutherland LGA Paddington: Four in Hand Pub
Eastern part of City of Sydney LGA Parramatta: Albion Hotel [09/09]
Waverley LGA Prestons: Life in the Spirit Ministry
Willoughby LGA Randwick: Fitness First
Woollahra LGA Sydney: City Tattersalls Fitness Centre
Sydney: Hyde Park Medical Centre

Also see: Recent NSW media releases and public health alerts

Sources:
submitted by Pretty_iin_Pink to CoronavirusDownunder [link] [comments]


2020.09.08 03:06 Pretty_iin_Pink NSW reports 6 new local cases and 3 new overseas cases

NSW reports 6 new local cases and 3 new overseas cases

New cases reported in the last 24 hours

  • 3 are returned travellers in hotel quarantine
  • 6 are locally acquired:
    • 5 are linked to a known case or cluster; 3 linked to Concord Hospital (2 HCW - asymptomatic at work, 1 visitor); 1 boarding student from Kincoppal Rose Bay School; 1 household contact of CBD cluster.
    • 1 case from South Eastern Sydney is under investigation
  • 1 previously reported case from Lidcombe Public School has been excluded following further testing.
----

Cases to date

* One previously reported case has been excluded following further testing [08/09]

Sources of confirmed cases

Sources of confirmed cases. Last updated 3:18 PM [08/09]. If using reddit on a computer, click on table or this caption to enlarge.

Recent clusters

Cluster Last 24 hours TOTAL Reported
Sydney CBD +1 66 Sept: 8, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2. Aug: 31, 30, 29, 28, 27.
St Paul’s Greystanes +0 13 Sept: 4, 3, 2
Concord/Liverpool Hospital* +3 7 Concord = Sept: 8, 7. Liverpool = Sept: 7, 6, 4, 1. Aug: 13.
Reddam Early Learning Centre, Lindfield +0 3 Sept: 1. Aug: 30.
Our Lady of Mercy School, Parramatta +0 7 Aug: 25, 17, 15, 12, 11, 9.
\The case reported on the 06/07 worked at both Concord Hospital ED) and Liverpool Hospital ED while potentially infectious. Therefore, it is probable that this case is the source of the first Concord Hospital ED case \07/09]. In total, NSW Health reports that there are 7 people associated with this cluster, 6 of whom are HCWs and 1 hospital visitor [08/09].)

Recently affected educational institutions

School Suburb LGA Last 24 hours TOTAL Reported
Kincoppal Rose Bay School Rose Bay Waverley +1 3 Sept: 8, 6
Lidcombe Public School Lidcombe Cumberland -1 0 Sept: 6
Regents Park Christian School Regents Park Canterbury-Bankstown/Cumberland - 1 Sept: 3
Girraween Public School Girraween Cumberland - 2 Sept: 2, 1
St Paul's Catholic College Greystanes Cumberland - 4 Sept: 1. Aug: 30
Homebush Public School Homebush Strathfield - 0 Sept: 1. Aug: 28
Double Bay Public School Double Bay Woollahra - 1 Aug: 28
St Gertrude's Catholic Primary School Smithfield Fairfield - 1 Aug: 28
Ryde Secondary College Ryde Ryde - 1 Aug: 28
Riverstone High School Riverstone Blacktown - 1 Aug: 26
Wyndham College Quakers Hill Blacktown - 1 Aug: 26
Schofields Public School Schofields Blacktown - 0 Aug: 27
\Case at Lidcombe Public school has been excluded following further testing. This row will be removed from tomorrow's update. Thanks to) u/Korzic for the link.

Latest COVID-19 case locations in NSW - as of 08/09 [9:35 PM]

Please view the NSW Gov website for the most up to date information, including information concerning additional locations and Sydney bus and train routes where you are required to monitor yourself for COVID-19 symptoms.
Increased testing and surveillance Self-isolate and get tested immediately
Bankstown (suburb) Concord: Paperboy Café (new: 08/09)
Cumberland LGA Epping: Fitness Plus (new: 08/09)
Fairfield LGA Moorebank: New Brighton Golf Club
Ku-ring-gai LGA Newtown: It’s Time for Thai restaurant
Liverpool LGA Newtown: Kuleto's Cocktail Bar
Mt Druitt (suburb) Oatlands: Oatlands Golf Club (new: 08/09)
Parramatta LGA Paddington: Four in Hand Pub
Randwick LGA Prestons: Life in the Spirit Ministry
Sutherland LGA Randwick: Fitness First
Eastern part of City of Sydney LGA Sydney: City Tattersalls Fitness Centre
Waverley LGA Sydney: Hyde Park Medical Centre
Willoughby LGA
Woollahra LGA

Also see: Recent NSW media releases and public health alerts

Sources:
submitted by Pretty_iin_Pink to CoronavirusDownunder [link] [comments]


2020.09.01 19:21 Skyfry5 My worst year at university

Warning: mentions possible rape, suicide attempt and stalking
So, I am a UK university student and I lived in an eco-house on campus. It was beautiful and amazing value compared to other accommodation on campus. The only catch was had to maintain the vegetable garden, live sustainably and be a sustainability ambassador during open day, which just involved talking about the eco house and showing people around the vegetable garden. It was very chilled in the eco house for the first apart from the occasional times my housemates got high or they did not do their wash up, which was very typical student stuff.
Things took a nosedive when I befriend someone (let us call her L) who I meant first in student service building one night accompanied by one of my close friends J. She lived in the same area of campus as me, so I walked with L and J to that area of campus. She insisted that both J and I should walk her to her room, which I did not mind as I just handed in an assignment and did not need to get back to my room urgently. We walked her to her building’s door and said our goodbyes.
J and I then talked towards the bus stop, which was opposite the eco-house, as J needed to get a bus to his place that was off campus. We just saw his bus leave in the distance so invited him to have a cup of tea at mine and wait out of the cold for the next bus. J told me how L was causing drama in the drama society and that I should be cautious of her. Apparently, she was dating a guy in the drama club and they slept together losing their virginity to one another. However, when he dumped her, she accused him of rape. This has caused a divide within the society because some believed her, and others are not so sure. Plus, to throw into the mix L’s family were conservative evangelical Christians- the no sex before marriage type- so that complicated the matter. J did not know what to do as he had been a victim of rape himself, so this made him feel awful because he wants to believe a victim. I told him ‘it’s a difficult situation and you don’t have to tell others what opinion in the matter is.’
I saw L again at the rock society, which was just a society the revolved around drinking and headbanging to music. She was there with one of her housemates, who was a regular at the rock society and I knew quite well because I lived with him in my first year. I said hi too both of them and went to sit with my course mates that were at the society social. L’s housemate left the social because they had a 9am the next day and 10:30pm was already getting late for him as he needed to sleep. L came over and sat herself next to me and I introduced her to my course mates. We continued our discussion on the lecture we had earlier that day and the possibility of being in a group together for the group project later in the same module. We tried our best to include L by asking her about her lectures and if she had any group projects, but she just started crying. We asked what was wrong and she said didn’t want to talk about it and wanted to go back to her accommodation. I told my course mates that I know where she lived, and I could walk her back as I just finished my lemonade and they all still had around half a pint left of their alcoholic drinks.
The way back to her accommodation building was pass the eco-house and I pointed out where I lived on the way. She expressed interest in seeing it up close and I said that it might be better to see it during the daytime, since the vegetable gardens aren’t well lit at night. She started balling her eyes out again and just stood there. I honestly didn’t know what to do. I tried suggesting that we continue on walking to her building, but she was just standing there. Then I said ‘would you like to come over to mine place for a cup of tea’. I was trying my best to be nice.
I got into my house and brought her through to the living room, so she could sit on the soft. My housemate N was sat on the other soft on her phone watching Netflix with a cup of tea. I introduced them to one another and told N that I was going to put the kettle on and if they need a refill. I went to the kitchen to make N, L and myself each a cup of tea. Suddenly L appeared and asked to see my room and I show her where it was, and I also showed her the toilet which was opposite to it. L then went into my room and sat on my bed giggling. She then grabbed my dressing gown that was on my bed and put it on. I asked her what she was doing, and she started crying and saying she was cold. I told her to please ask before she touches my things and she said okay and walked out of my room to the living room still wearing my dressing gown.
I then went back into the kitchen and made the cups of tea and brought them though. I handed N her cup and gave L her cup of tea in a blue spotty mug. L looked at my Shera mug and demanded to switch mugs with me because ‘it has a unicorn and I loves unicorn’. I told her I have a casein allergy so can’t drink the cow’s milk in her mug and drink oat milk instead. She started balling her eyes out again and yelled at me ‘it’s been a month since I’ve been raped, and this is how you treat a rape victim’. I gave her my mug and told her that ‘she never told me what was upsetting her and how was I meant to know she was raped a month ago’ (I know my friend told me but I didn’t want to tell her that J told me). I made myself a new cup of tea in a different mug. L then came into the kitchen and demanded I remake her cup of tea because ‘it tastes funny’. I explained that I gave her my cup of tea which had oat milk in it and not cow’s milk and that is why it tasted funny. She demanded to know why I would give her a cup of tea with oat milk. I told her I already explained to her why and that I would remake her cup of tea.
I remade the teas, and all was sorted until it was time that I start getting ready got bed and I was dropping hints that she should had back to her accommodation. L then said ‘I can sleep in your bed and you can sleep on the sofa. I do not want to be in my room tonight of all nights’. I said okay to her staying around but no to her staying in my bed. She huffed and agreed to stay on the sofa.
I got up at 8:30am and started to make myself scramble tofu on toast for breakfast. I heard a ‘that smells good’ from L. I asked her if she slept okay and she said ‘not really. It would have been better if I were in actual bed.’ I didn’t reply because I knew she was guilt tripping me. I thought I would be nice and brought her a cup of tea making sure it was in the Shera mug and bowl coco pops because she told me how they were her favourite cereal the evening before. She scuffed and said ‘I don’t want to eat this garbage. Give me your breakfast’. I replied ‘no I made this for myself to use up ingredients before I go shopping later. You can try it if you want, but scrambled tofu isn’t to everyone’s liking.’ I gave her a small bit of the scrambled tofu and she proclaim it was ‘the grossest scrambled eggs she ever tasted’ and ate the coco pops.
I got my things for my lecture and I asked for L to take my dressing gown off so I could put it in my room. She took it off and I put it in my room and locked the door. I then did the washing up and went into the living room to tidy up the sofa with all the bedding on it. I told L that she should head to her’s as she probably has a lecture and should get ready for it. She asked if she could stay for a bit longer and I told her to ask my housemate N if it was okay with her for her to stay a bit longer as I have a lecture to go to. N said she can stay for a bit but needs to leave within an hour.
I went to lecture then to library to pick up some books to read for close and came back to my place via costa. Sat on my doorstep was L, who proclaimed ‘what too you so long?’. She was still in the clothes she wore yesterday so clearly had not been back to her place yet. I was confused and replied, ‘what do you mean?’. L said, ‘I’ve been waiting her for 2 hours for someone to let me in’. I assumed ‘she must have left her keys inside and N had already gone to her lecture so couldn’t let her back in. She grabbed the coffee cup from my hand and said, ‘this will make up for making me wait’ and proceeded to try and drink the coffee. She screamed ‘it’s empty. Why would you do that to me? You buy me a coffee and you drank it yourself. Disgusting. This is no way to treat a rape victim.’
I opened the door to the eco-house and L went inside and I followed and asked ‘so where did you leave your keys? I assume that’s why you were waiting for me to let you in.’ L looked at me and scuffed showing me her key that she just pulled out of her pocket. She then said ‘I’m hungry and don’t have the energy to cook. Could you make something for me?’ I had planned to make a large batch of pasta that night for me, few friends and N. I thought one extra person would not be too bad and if she is going through what she says she was going through I can understand why she might not want to be alone.
My friends came over, we ate food and L kept on complaining that food wasn’t to her liking while everyone else were very grateful to get a free meal. We talked for a bit and my friend left. With a bit of persuasion L finally left and N was walking her back to her building while I stayed to do the washing up. I messed J to tell him about what happened with L and he told me that that was way her boyfriend broke up with her because she was very needy and even before she sexual assault allegations she would cry and say that she was physical abused by her father to get people to do stuff for her and to get her own way. He warned me that I should be careful because if I do something that really upsets her she might try to ruin my life.
L started showing up at my house uninvited. I would be doing university work and because I wasn’t paying attention to her she would cry. I would be going to a lecture and because I was leaving her she would cry. I would go to work at the student union bar, which I needed to go to afford food to live because I was supporting myself due to my dad’s redundancy and my student finance wouldn’t take into consideration that only my mum was working until the next academic year, and she would cry again because I was leaving her. I would leave for something and she could cry. I was getting sick of her crying and her manipulation. I told her that she needs to give me so space so I can do my work for my degree and she should probably get on with her own university work too.
She then started following me to lectures which was strange. I went to my 2pm gene therapy lecture and she was sat smiling in my assigned seat. I was shocked because I didn’t know how she knew what seat mine was. Thank heavens my lecturer looked at L and told her she had to leave as she signed up for this module and the lecturer had no idea who she was. L left in a huff. She then started sitting at the back of my lectures in the extra seats along the wall. She was attending my lectures instead of her own. This was really strange and I asked could she please stop coming to my lecturers. L looked at me and started crying saying ‘friends aren’t meant to make you feel like this’ and ran off. Well she ended up not coming to my lectures, which was a relief.
Things did not go to well when I caught glandular fever (mono) from someone I worked with one bar. Half of the bar staff were ill with mono, which wasn’t good because the first person with it didn’t want to phone in sick because we were on a zero hour contract so can’t get sick pay. I was exhausted and contemplated redoing the year because my grades went down because of it. I wasn’t going to lectures, I couldn’t swallow every well and my throat was in constant pain.
L didn’t understand I was sick and needed to rest and demanded that I make her food and let her stay the night because it was three months to the day of her assault now. I tried to explain that I didn’t have the energy to cook food and I struggling at the moment because I am sick and don’t think I can afford food much longer because I am not working. She then proclaimed, ‘then let’s order pizza and I’ll pay.’ For once she seemed to be doing something nice. L started to buy food to share from the cafés on campus and she seemed to have calmed down from crying a lot thanks to the university getting her counselling.
I managed to get an emergency bursary from my university to help me out financially, which was great. My health started to improve, and I was less tired but I still behind on work and one of lecturer’s who research was on the virus that causes glandular fever supported me to be put on support to study. Deadlines were extended to end of summer and I would do half my exams in summer exam period and the other half in re-sit period to spread them out. This took a bit of stress off me.
L sent me a text one night demanding that I pay her back for all the food she bought for use to share and claimed that I owed her £250 which was complete BS because I know how much the café food she bought was and the pizzas she bought. I know with my mental maths and looking at all the receipts she had left behind that she had only spend £60 of the food. I was confused to why she said it was £250 when it was less. L’s message back was ‘well that’s interest’. I sent her screenshots of previous messages that said that she was buying me food ‘because all that I have done for her’ and that she never told me I would have to pay her back at some point. The money she wanted would have been all the money I had left from the bursary and that was meant to buy me food for the rest of the summer semester. I told her I never agreed that I was going to pay for half of the food and her messaged made it sound like she was going to pay all of it.
She then sent me a message that was ‘I can’t believe you don’t believe I was raped’. This message came out of nowhere. Suddenly I got messages from friends saying showing a screenshot of the message L send and asking me why I didn’t believe that she was a victim of rape. I wasn’t sure what was going on. I never said I didn’t believe she was raped. The messages started piling up.
My housemate N came out of her room and said, ‘I cannot believe you don’t believe L was raped’. N walked out of the house and I asked her where she was going and she replied, ‘to find L’.
I started getting message telling me to kill myself and telling me I deserve to get raped myself. I attended to overdose that night as I just wanted this nightmare to stop. I was panicking so much about everything. J then messaged me to ask me if I was okay and I didn’t reply.
5 minutes later an ambulance had arrived, and it turns out J was the one who phone for one to check on me as he was worried for my mental state. I was rushed to hospital, bloods were taken and activated charcoal given. A few friends of mine turned up at the hospital to be with me while I waited to see the mental health team. I saw the mental health team and then discharged me and sent me home.
One friend S told me to put in a bullying and harassment complaint against L and so I did. Nothing came of that, but it was put on her personal record. I had lost most of my friends, but my close friends stuck by me. L’s ex was found not to be guilt of rape against L as the police demanded that there was strong possibility, she was lying about the assault. The university’s disciplinary panel ruled in favour of the ex-boyfriend and not L. The outcome of that was they were not to have contact with one another.
I went on into my final year with no problems. L would try and tell people what a horrible person I am, and I decided not to say a bad thing about her. She tried to join the societies that I was part of, and she was not last year but that failed (thank the heaven she can’t sing and failed the choir audition). I had one friend tell me ‘why would I believe someone who only tells you how bad someone is when that person is a kind and caring person?’. L got diagnosed NPD which explained some of her behaviour but stopped treatment because doesn't think she has anything wrong with her.
I know there were points I could have done something earlier to stop L. I have come to realise by all of this I am quite a naive person and my experience has helped me to spot people to stay away from sooner. L had ruined one year at university and I do not plan to let someone like her ruin anymore. I'm on a waiting list at the moment for therapy and write this all down here has been like a weight has been lifted.
submitted by Skyfry5 to offmychest [link] [comments]


2020.08.23 05:16 allblue_sanji Christian... también erei café?

¡Mira este clip! ¡DylanteroLIVE transmitiendo en Twitch! https://clips.twitch.tv/SassyDarkEyeballSSSsss
submitted by allblue_sanji to aweonasogang [link] [comments]


2020.08.21 15:57 trifletruffles Silas Caston-killed on March 1, 1964 by a Hinds County Sheriff’s Office Deputy in Jackson, Mississippi-Closed Case Under the Civil Rights Division Emmett Till Act

On March 1, 1964, Silas Caston, then 19 years old, was shot and killed by Hinds County Sheriff’s Office Deputy Herbert Hoover Sullivan in Jackson, Mississippi. According to a contemporary news article in the Jackson Clarion Ledger, the shooting occurred when Hinds County Sheriff's Office deputies responded to a report of shots fired. The deputies saw two men fleeing the scene. Deputy Sullivan chased the victim into a café where, according to an unnamed source in the news article, Silas turned “as if to attack the deputy.” At that point, Deputy Sullivan, who “had no way of knowing that Silas was unarmed, shot him in the stomach." Silas died later that night at University Hospital in Jackson.
In the fall of 2008, the FBI initiated a review of the circumstances surrounding Silas's death pursuant to the Department of Justice’s Cold Case initiative and the Emmett Till Unsolved Civil Rights Crime Act of 2007. The FBI interviewed the victim’s [relationship redacted in the memorandum]. In the course of its investigation, the FBI also contacted "various Mississippi law enforcement and government officials' conducted searches of the records of the Southern Poverty Law Center (SPLC), the Mississippi Department of Archives and History (MDAH), the University of Southern Mississippi library, and the internet for relevant references and media articles; sent letters to both the SPLC and the NAACP requesting information; and solicited information about the case via a press release that was published in local newspapers and broadcast on local television and radio stations."
The FBI located Silas's death certificate which stated he died on March 1, 1964, as a result of “intractable shock” caused by a “massive acute hemorrhage” due to a gunshot wound to the abdomen. The FBI contacted officials at the Hinds County Sheriff's Office, the Mississippi Attorney General's Office, and the Mississippi Department of Public Safety, but none of those agencies had or maintained any records relevant to Silas's death.
In December 2009, the FBI interviewed [name redacted in the closing memorandum], Silas's [relationship redacted in closing memorandum]. [Name redacted] stated that Silas was in a club with two other teenagers “making some noise.” When officers responded to a call from the club’s owner, the two others fled while Silas turned around and raised his hands in surrender and was shot. [Name redacted] did not recall the names of the two other teenagers. According to a March 1964 memorandum from the Mississippi State Sovereignty Commission, Silas's mother gave permission to the NAACP and the Congress for Racial Equality (CORE) to file suit against Deputy Sullivan and the Hinds County Sheriff's Office in the amount of $100,000. The FBI's investigation did not uncover any evidence indicating that the suit was ever filed. However, the Southern Poverty Law Center noted that CORE and NAACP did file a a civil suit but the result of that suit is unknown. Deputy Sullivan died on April 6, 1986.
The Department of Justice closed Silas's case after noting that that "this matter does not constitute a prosecutable violation of the federal criminal civil rights statutes" as Deputy Sullivan is deceased; therefore, "matter will not be forwarded to the state for prosecutive review." Even if Deputy Sullivan were alive, prior to 1994, federal criminal civil rights violations were not capital offenses so there was a 5-year statute of limitations. In 1994, some of these civil rights statutes were amended to provide the death penalty for violations resulting in death thus eliminating the statute of limitations. However, the Ex Post Facto Clause of the Constitution prohibits the retroactive application of the 1994 amendment. While the Civil Rights Division has used “non-civil rights statutes to overcome the statute of limitations challenge in certain cases, such as those occurring on federal land and kidnapping resulting in death, the facts of the present do not lend themselves to federal prosecution under other federal statutes.”
Silas's name is identified in a display which honors 74 people at the Civil Rights Memorial Center in Montgomery, Alabama as one of the "The Forgotten." The 74 names were “not inscribed on the Memorial because there was insufficient information about their deaths at the time the Memorial was created in 1989."
Links:
https://www.justice.gov/crt/case-document/silas-caston
https://www.wlbt.com/story/6151051/southern-poverty-law-centers-list-of-the-forgotten/
I came across the Department of Justice’s cold case initiative while reading an article discussing journalists’ efforts to install a billboard on an Arkansas highway aimed at solving the 1954 lynching of Isadore Banks. The Civil Rights Division of the United States Department of Justice launched a website (linked above) to make information about the department’s investigation of cold cases from the Civil Rights Era more accessible to the public. Over the years, the Department “has assisted in prosecuting Edgar Ray Killen in 2005, making him the eighth defendant convicted for the 1964 murders of three civil rights workers in Philadelphia, Mississippi (the "Mississippi Burning" case); secured life sentences in 2003 against the perpetrators of the 1963 Sixteenth Street Baptist Church bombing in Birmingham, Alabama; and secured a federal conviction and life sentence of James Ford Seale for the kidnapping and murder of two teenagers in Franklin County, Mississippi in 1964.” Congress recognized the importance of these federal efforts when it enacted the Emmett Till Unsolved Civil Rights Crime Act in 2008.
Unfortunately, in many cases “legal and evidentiary barriers prevent the Department from moving forward with prosecution." In each case that is not prosecutable, the Department of Justice wrote a closing memo explaining the investigative steps taken and the basis for their conclusion. To date, the Department of Justice has uploaded 115 closing memos. I hope to be able to post on all of the closed cases as I share in the belief with the Department of Justice that “these stories should be told [as] there is value in a public reckoning with the history of racial violence and the complicity of government officials.”
Other posts from the Department of Justice's Cold Case Initiative:
  1. Isadore Banks-unsolved murder in Marion, Arkansas-June 1954
https://www.reddit.com/UnresolvedMysteries/comments/h03esj/isadore_bankslynched_in_marion_arkansas_on_june_8/
  1. Willie Joe Sanford-unsolved murder in Hawkinsville, Georgia-March 1957
https://www.reddit.com/UnresolvedMysteries/comments/h9v61n/willie_joe_sanfordfound_murdered_nea
  1. Ann Thomas-unsolved murder in San Antonio, Texas-April 1969
https://www.reddit.com/UnresolvedMysteries/comments/hdtv4b/ann_thomasfound_murdered_in_san_antonio_texas_on/
  1. Thad Christian- murdered on August 30, 1965 in Central City, Alabama
https://www.reddit.com/UnresolvedMysteries/comments/i4fetd/thad_christianmurdered_on_august_30_1965_in/
submitted by trifletruffles to UnresolvedMysteries [link] [comments]


2020.08.18 21:34 LynxInSneakers (Hi this is my first post here! ) 14 dates and The barista, a heroic crown of (modern) sonnets on clueless dating.

Date 1 - The Flake

I open the door, walk into the coffee shop I look at my phone and I look around The girl I’m searching for, can’t be found Not in a nook, nor by the slate grey bar top
The barista looks at me in my witty tank top “Fucks given, NUN” she laughs, a beautiful sound It brightens my mood, a flaked date rebound “What do you want to have?” she smiles when she stops
“It’s freezing outside so an iced coffee maybe?” She laughs and nods and now sets to work She hands me the drink and says to me candidly
“It sucks to be flaked, know what, have that on me.” My phone starts ringing, she turns away with a jerk Standing still, I collect myself silently

Date 2 - The Hippie

Standing still, I collect myself silently She is there, so this time there was no flake As we embrace too long for comfort, I realise my mistake While she has eyes like a heartache, she smells pungently
It’s a sweat and burnt-tyre-incense used too liberally She seems sweet though and I don’t want to be a flake Minutes pass, beginning to suspect that she’s baked Barring that, she’s out of touch with reality
She tells me of spirits and mind control pills How scientists covers up alien broadcasts Then she, unsolicited, pours liquid into my coffee
I tire when she says it’s silver and will cure all my ills The barista throws me a smile as I walk on past “No second date this time then?” she asks gladly

Date 3 - The Racist

“No second date this time then?” she asks gladly She collects the evidence of this last "failed" date. Toweling myself off, the adrenaline slowly abates I look at the remains of cup and iced coffee
“Naaw, don’t think so.” I say to her faux-sadly “So what did you say?” she asks, ready to berate “That for being a christian she held a lot of hate.” “Oh, a queerphobe?” she asks angrily
“That too I suspect.” and I’m shivering like a mouse She nods and leaves to tend to the shop’s queue I stand up, breath out and force my shaking to stop
“Want something hot to drink? This one is on the house.” She smiles pointing to their selection of brews I smile, sigh and walk up to the slate bar top

Date 4 - The Gym Nut

I smile, sigh and walk up to the slate bar top He’s standing there, smiling with a duffle bag As we talk I will my smile not to sag While he is beautiful enough to make my jaw drop
His mind only goes on one track or stops It wouldn’t have been such a huge drag If he would do more than weight lift brag As he drones about his record for deadlifts my life drops
We try to find common ground but this is an awkward chat I’m actually quite fit but I do other things than work out He helps my straight-female-friend-empathy to develop
At the end of it we part our ways with the bro-hug-back-pat The barista sees me as I leave and perkily shouts “So when are you going to give this up and stop?”

Date 5 - The Rude Ice-Lady

“So when are you going to give this up and stop?” Her voice a cultured melody, like honey on dried ice Unimpressed with what she sees and wont tell any lies “Oh, I gave up five minutes in when I saw this would flop.”
This comment made the last hour worth it as her jaw drops Though she’s been rude to the baristas, something I despise I have spent this last hour trying to be nice. As ice-lady storms off the barista smiles from across the shop
I smile back and look down in my notebook Trying to write a poem about this encounter Not really finding ice-lady a worthy simile
I give up for the moment, I stand up and look The barista is still smiling behind the counter She stands there, hazel eyes on me, like Psyche

Date 6 - The Crisis Rebound

She stands there, hazel eyes on me, like Psyche She was coming back from her visit to the restroom Heralded by the sweet smell of her flower perfume On the phone, she’s stopped to finish where they make tea
The Barista pass my table, says “She’s talking to her fiance.” We’ve been hitting it off and I don’t wanna assume And when she sits down, smiling, ready to resume “So you have an open relationship?” I ask shyly
Her eyes widen and then she’s looking all shameful She’s tearing up and I realise I’m the crisis rebound “We’re in a rough patch, I wanted someone to want me.”
An hour later, as I sit there disillusion-al The Barista shouts, “Cheer up, good dates will come around.” I stare at her for a minute, she smiles back at me wryly

Date 7 - The Young Catfish

I stare at her for a minute, she smiles back at me wryly “Not quite the person in your pictures are you?” I wouldn’t bet on her being 18 much less 32 She smiles caught-in-the-act-awkwardly
“It’s my sister’s pictures.” she tries with offhand delivery The Barista, curious, looks up from her brew Shaking my head “Sorry, I’d be a creep for dating you.” She takes her coffee but leaves a folded paper silently
“Want a refill and we both can read it?” The barista, smiling, eyebrow and coffee pot raised I steel myself, because 7 dates in now I feel like a flop
It is muddle of pick up lines and copied wit The Barista leans in, laughs and reads with "seductive grace" “Or will my bedroom floor meet your witty tank top?”

Date 8 - The Business Stiff

“Or will my bedroom floor meet your witty tank top?” Striped business pen skirt and not a hair out of place She reads my t-shirt’s print, disgusted look on her face The Barista is laughing so hard she coffees the bar top
We sit down for the date to a chortling barista backdrop Bad start already and we keep up that pace Yet after the last bad date I am no longer that fazed Our coffee is still hot when we decide it’s time to stop
On her 10 minute break the barista comes up to me “You seem to have bad luck finding love in this café.” “Ahh welI, will always have your fine brews.” I say and wink
“Well… I do have this really good Breakfast tea?” Shake my head, smile, nod at the pumpkin spice lattes “Tonight I want something sweet and warm to drink.”

Date 9 - The Solo Sprinter

“Tonight I want something sweet and warm to drink.” He smiles at the barista nodding to my t-shirt’s print She smirks, asks if he want the hot cocoa with mint Beverages collected we sit down, our cheeks pink
As the date go on he talks so much that I can’t think Edgewise words attempted, he doesn’t take the hint He seems to be one who enjoys the solo sprint But monologuing men is still not my preferred kink
An hour passes, then luckily he got to go An awkward hug goodbye and I relax He texts, “I really liked our talk and you are nice,
But I’ll need someone who can hold my tempo.” Sends “ok”, thinking “Am I running out of givable fucks?” I read the menu, but that traitor gives me no advice

Date 10 - The “enlightened” “poly” dude

I read the menu, but that traitor gives me no advice He has just mansplained polyamory And his version has a high toxicity So I debate if educating him is wise
We have café bartop seats for this patience exercise Smiling saint-like he preaches tabooing jealousy And shows he sees relationships as zero-sum, implicitly Defenestration of him I consider, but I compromise:
"We can stop here, cause I don't want a second date." Leaving, tells me to call when done with my “brainwashed life” The Barista appears, offers to trade cakes to spill some tea
Can’t decide between the options on her plates A minute pass, she says to me, voice laced with faux-strife “Well, I’ve been waiting here, now what will it be?”

Date 11 - The Friend To Be

“Well, I’ve been waiting here, now what will it be?” After I moved my chess piece she whoops with delight Late I see my mistake and I lose this fight She asks “Up for another round? I bet you a coffee.”
“I’m up for it, though of late I’ve grown partial to tea.” As we play, banter and talk of the things we write We both agree that although we both seem alright The chemistry is more of a friend to be
Beats me again, so victory coffee I go to buy The Barista seems subdued when I say hey Smiles when I narrate the date, it makes me think
My new friend asks me, as a smiling conspiracy ally "Do you go here for dates or to court at the end of day?" It was a fair question and my cheeks are turning pink

Date 12 - The Aspiring Mom

It was a fair question and my cheeks are turning pink “No, I don’t think I actually want kids.” This date is over based on her fluttering eyelids “Why don’t you want them?” said with a scream on the brink
“I kinda just don’t want that life I think?” Her disgust with that answer can’t be quite hid But at dismissing me politely she makes a bid I sit silent afterwards finishing my drink
The barista comes by pats me on my back Then she swaps out my cold coffee for warm tea Her hand lingers on mine, her scent is chai spice
“You may actually be cursed. Want an on-the-house snack?” She sets a piece of the café’s “Love treats” before me I look up and my smile is reaching my eyes

Date 13 - The 50 Shades Dom

I look up and my smile is reaching my eyes He sits expectant, suited up, tie in a Windsor knot I say like Yoda, “Interested, I am, Not.” His first date “you’re my slave”-spiel equals no dice
And at this point I am so through playing it nice He rises, cheeks flushed, quiet, expression taut “You’re never going to be invited to my yacht!” “My dude, Your whole ‘tude is a red flag maximized...”
“Think he’d be hard-pressed to define SSC.” We sit and talk after he stalked off childlike “He was hot but that I’m-your-dad-now, doesn’t work for me.”
Smiling mischievously she says to me “He should have gone for classic seduction? Like, I’ll have a cocoa now, tomorrow your breakfast tea.”

Date 14 - The One Who Walked Away

“I’ll have a cocoa now, tomorrow your breakfast tea.” “You know, as a one-liner it is not so bad.” I smile thinking back to that moment we had “You’re smiling again, would you like to include me?”
I mention that the barista said that line to me Tell her of previous dates and she seems glad She says “That barista girl sounds really rad.” “Yeah” I say, “Her humor really is beastly.”
Close to the coffee shop she makes me stay Motions me to the window, hugs me as a friend Extricates herself, gives my head a gentle bop
She says “You aren’t here for me today.” She leaves me there and I start to comprehend I open the door, walk into the coffee shop

The Barista

I open the door, walk into the coffee shop Standing still, I collect myself silently “No second date this time then?”, she asks gladly I smile, sigh and walk up to the slate bar top
“So when are you going to give this up and stop?” She stands there, hazel eyes on me, like Psyche I stare at her for a minute, she smiles back at me wryly “Or will my bedroom floor meet your witty tank top?”
“Tonight I want something sweet and warm to drink” I read the menu, but that traitor gives me no advice. “Well, I’ve been waiting here, now what will it be?”
It was a fair question and my cheeks are turning pink I look up and my smile is reaching my eyes “I’ll have a cocoa now and tomorrow your breakfast tea.”
submitted by LynxInSneakers to KeepWriting [link] [comments]


2020.08.14 07:39 ezmaywatson 167 active cases of COVID-19 in Greater Geelong (5 new cases since yesterday, also 10 removed)

https://covidlive.com.au/vic/greater-geelong

NEW UPDATE 5PM: From The Addy: "A NEW coronavirus outbreak predominantly infecting youths has been revealed in Geelong with 17 cases identified so far, as Barwon Health urges young people to be on high alert for symptoms. Barwon Health infectious diseases specialist Dan O’Brien said the new outbreak originated with a person coming to the region from Melbourne and infecting the social network. The outbreak is now linked to 17 local cases, including 10 young adults between the ages of 17 and 25, with other cases including their family members, Associate Professor O’Brien said. Prof O’Brien said young people connected with the outbreak socialised together in the northern suburbs, but lived across the Greater Geelong region. “We only became aware of the first (case) on Monday, and over the week have become aware of more and more,” Prof O’Brien said."
NEW UPDATE 5PM: From The Addy: "There were nine inpatients with COVID-19 at Geelong hospital, including two in the Intensive Care Unit, on Friday."
NEW UPDATE 5PM: The Breakwater Chicken Plant is at 48 cases and 1 death.
NEW UPDATE 6PM: Today's cases were linked to the following postcodes - 3214 (x2), 3215 (x1)
NEW UPDATE 7:50PM: I totally forgot it was Barwon Health CEO update day! Quick summary of her video - here we go:

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Quick round-up of today's Geelong COVID news:
Did I miss any? Hope everyone is doing OK out there xx
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2020.08.08 16:01 Last-lChance BNA: Hunted Dino-Cliff, so last time someone told me that Wattpad.com would be better for BNA: Hunted and I did give it a whirl and I like it, anyway hope you enjoy Chapter 2, Chapter 3 will be out tomorrow

A few weeks have gone by and nothing bad has happened. Then Alan Sylvasta and Boris Cliff have returned to Anima City. “Looks like nothing changed in these past few months.” Boris told Alan. “Indeed you are right, but we are not here for seeing what’s new, we’re here to get back to Michiru for ruining my plans to destroy all of the beastman.” Alan said. Then someone ran into him. “Hey watch where your going.” Boris said. “Yeah, whatever.” The beastman said. But it’s Dino-Cliff. “Kitsune?” Boris said. “And he hasn’t aged at all.” Alan said. Then Kitsune buys a firebull. “Thanks.” Kitsune said. Then he went in Renzid Café. Then Kitsune sat down at a table. Then he grabbed Michael Crichton’s the Lost World and starts to read. Meanwhile Nazuna and Michiru are going to Renzid Café. “It’s so nice to have coffee with my friend.” Nazuna said. “Yeah it is.” Michiru said. Then they walk in. “Ill get the coffee and you can find us a table.” Michiru told Nazuna. Then Nazuna went to find a table. Then she saw Kitsune reading. “Is that a human book?” Nazuna asked. “Michael Crichton’s Lost World, why?” Kitsune asked. “Well, you don’t normally see Beastmen reading human books.” Nazuna said. “Well, I brought them from home.” Kitsune said. Then Michiru came with the coffee. “Who’s your new friend?” Michiru asked Nazuna. “Kitsune.” Kitsune said. “That’s Japanese for fox.” Nazuna said. “It is, I didn’t know.” Kitsune said. Then he put away his book. “And what are your names?” Kitsune asked. “Michiru.” Mirchiru told Kitsune. “And I’m Nazuna.” Nazuna said. “I heard about the both of you on the news.” Kitsune said. “You watch the news?” Mirchiru asked. “Not all the time.” Kitsune said. Then Nazuna saw his tags. “Dino-Cliff?” Nazuna said. Then he put them away. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude.” Nazuna said. “It’s okay.” Kitsune said. “So, you were in the army?” Mirchiru said. “I don’t know.” Kitsune said. “Not to be rude but, where are you from?” Nazuna asked. “Houston Texas, I think.” Kitsune said. Then Michiru got a call. “It’s Shirou.” Michiru said. Then she answers it. “Hey Shirou what’s up.” Michiru said. Then Michiru went to talk to Shirou. “So what animal do you turn into?” Nazuna asked. “I’m human.” Kitsune said. “Oh so Alan got to you.” Nazuna said. “Who is Alan?” Kitsune asked. “Oh, umm.” Nazuna tried to explain who Alan is. Then Michiru came back in. “We have to go.” Michiru said. “We have to leave.” Nazuna said. “Okay.” Kitsune said. “It was nice to meet you.” Nazuna said. “Same here.” Kitsune said. Then they leave. “So where are we going?” Nazuna asked. “To see the mayor.” Michiru said. At the mayor’s office Mayor Rose and Shirou are discussion what’s going on. “Even if we can help Shirou, Alan will still try to do everything in his power to kill them.” Rose said. “So what’s the plan?” Shirou asked. “I think it’s time we get an old friend.” Rose said. Meanwhile Kitsune was at his car. Then he cracked his neck with a metallic cling to it. Then he takes out Lost World and puts it in the back of his with Stephen King’s Carrie and Christian. “Nolan McCarthy.” Shirou said. Then Kitsune looks at Shirou. “If your a cop, not that a scary cop.” Kitsune said. “I need your help.” Shirou said. “Sure a cop needs my help.” Kitsune said. “Barbaray wants to see you Nolan.” Shirou said. “Look I don’t know you, or a Barbaray.” Kitsune said. “So you don’t know who I am?” Shirou said. “No I don’t, but you know.” Kitsune said. Then he got in his car. “What if Barbaray can help you with your memory.” Shirou said. Then Kitsune looked at Shirou. “Hope in.” Kitsune said. Back at the office Michiru and Nazuna enter. “Mayor Rose, is something wrong?” Then Rose shows a written threat to kill Michiru and Nazuna. “Alan has plans to kill you.” Rose said. Then Michiru and Nazuna look at each other. “So, what’s gonna happen?” Nazuna asked. “We have an old friend from before Anima City coming.” Rose said. Then Shirou came in. “I brought him.” Shirou said. Then Kitsune came in. Then he saw Michiru and Nazuna. “Michiru, and Nazuna.” Kitsune said. “Hey Kitsune.” Michiru said.
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2020.08.07 08:33 ezmaywatson 150 active cases of COVID-19 in Greater Geelong (21 new cases since yesterday, also 2 removed)

https://covidlive.com.au/vic/greater-geelong

NEWS UPDATE 5:05PM: Here is a summary of the Barwon Health CEO’s update:
I really appreciate her weekly video updates, but this told us nothing new :-/

We patted ourselves on the back too early yesterday you guys! Ugh. We're now the 14th most active shire in the state.

Here's today's round-up of Geelong COVID news from the last 24 hours:
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