this is a good time to note that if you don’t think trans women are women i’d like you to get the fuck away from my blog
He is taking a course on Marxist ideology.
He says, “The only real solution is to smash the system and start again.”
His thumb is caressing the most bourgeois copy of the communist manifesto that I have ever seen,
He bought it at Barnes and Noble for twenty-nine U.S. American dollars and ninety-nine cents,
Its hard cover shows a dark man with a scarved face
Waving a gigantic red flag against a fictional smoky background.
The matte finish is fucking gorgeous.
He wants to be congratulated for paying Harvard sixty thousand dollars
To teach him that the system is unfair.
He pulls his iPhone from his imported Marino wool jacket, and leaves.
What people can’t possibly tell from the footage on TV
Is that the water cannon feels like getting whipped with a burning switch.
Where I come from, they fill it with sewer water and hope that they get you in the face with your mouth open
So that the hepatitis will keep you in bed for the next protest.
What you can’t tell from Harvard square,
Is that when the tear gas bursts from nowhere to everywhere all at once,
It scrapes your insides like barbed wire, sawing at your lungs.
Tear gas is such a benign term for it,
If you have never breathed it in you would think it was a nostalgic experience.
What you can’t learn at Barnes and Noble,
Is that when they rush you, survival is to run,
I am never as fast as when the police are chasing me.
I know what happens to women in the holding cells down there and yet…
We still do it.
I inherited my communist manifesto,
It has no cover—
Because my mother ripped it off when she hid it in the dust jacket of “Don Quixote”
The day before the soldiers destroyed her apartment,
Looking for subversive propaganda.
She burned the cover, could not bring herself to burn the pages,
Hoped to God the soldiers couldn’t read,
They never found it.
So she was not killed for it, but her body bore the scars of the torture chamber,
For wanting her children to have a better life than she did,
Don’t talk to me about revolution.
I know what the price of smashing the system really is, my people already tried that.
The price of uprise is paid in blood,
And not Harvard blood.
The blood that ran through the streets of Santiago,
The blood thrown alive from Argentine helicopters into the Atlantic.
It is easy to say “revolution” from the comfort of a New England library.
It is easy to offer flesh to the cause,
When it is not yours to give.
Catalina Ferro, “Manifesto” (via dialecticsof)
I feel like people do need to remember that there is a very real, very painful, very human element to the word “revolution”.
Alberto Cazarez Jr. - Presente
Alberto was an amazing Youth Justice Coalition Organizer, Filmmaker, Advocate and Movement Builder in Los Angeles – one who served with his whole heart locally, while also feeding the larger movement for justice across L.A. County, California and the nation. He also represented the YJC - and coached other youth to represent us - in the Brothers, Sons, Selves Coalition, the Dignity in Schools Campaign, and the Alliance for Educational Justice.
He was a key leader over the past several years in the effort to challenge harmful gang suppression policies including the use of gang databases and gang injunctions. He was one of two lead complainants in a case against the City of Los Angeles that exposed gang injunctions as a violation of one’s Constitutional and human rights and eventually led the court to end the enforcement of curfew provisions in injunctions. He also participated as a public policy advocate, provided expert testimony to the Senate Public Safety Committee, and met with the offices of dozens of elected officials in our efforts to pass Senate Bill 458 – the most significant legislative challenge both the CalGang and local shared databases. His work contributed greatly to the most recent efforts to dismantle L.A.’s 166 year old “War on Gangs” - (a.k.a. a vicious war on youth of color).
I drew this over Memorial Day weekend.I had originally posted this to my old tumblr.
Figure I would Re-upload it.
I don’t know why I have my current self responding to my Second Grade teacher.
She’s probably dead now anyways.
Never let anyone fool you into believing that there aren’t other options.
I want to get back into doing more illustrations.
I suck at it, but I just never make the time to do it anymore.
Ideas are kinda hard to come by.
Bridgetown DIY. July 22, 2014. (From top to bottom) The Subrubanists, Moon Bandits, C. Kitten, File Island.
If you look at the picture in the middle Astrid looks unbelievably angry.
Just so you know the oldest person in America is a black woman living in Detroit named Jeralean Talley. That’s right - she was born in 1899. That’s three centuries she’s lived in. She was on bowling team till she was 104. She still goes to church. This woman saw prohibition, women’s suffrage, the civil rights movement, two world wars, a list of other dumb shit, all the way to the birth of the internet and of her great-great grandson, a child who’s 14 months old.Incredible
This is great
And to think, she only looks like she 83 for real for real.
And to think she probably has her water shut off too.