Joongdok In Hanfu Can Be Something So Personal

Pro Baseball Player Miyuki Kazuya, Japan's No. 1 Catcher 🥇🏆

Took me too long to get it done but finally is here!!! I was like this while painting 😏🥵🤤

PD: Hi new followers thanks for the likes and comments they always make me soooo happy I'm so grateful 🙏 🥺🥺🥺

STOP TRUMP

The best chance we have right now to stop Donald Trump is for the Electoral College to reject him when they meet December 19. Hillary Clinton won the presidential election by more than 2.8 million votes. But because of the Electoral College, originally set up to protect slave states in the late 1700s, Donald Trump is going to be sworn in on January 20 – unless the electors refuse to let him. Electors for each state will meet at their state capitol building on Monday, December 19 to cast their votes. They can stop Donald Trump – but they need to hear from all of us. It will take at least 37 electors in red states to deny him the White House. People are gathering in all 50 state capitols on Monday, December 19 to urge the electors to stop Trump. Will you join the movement and help stop a popular vote loser – and a hateful bigot – from becoming president? YES, I will join an Electoral College protest in my state capitol on Monday, December 19. No, I can’t participate, but I will write my legislator and urge them to support the National Popular Vote plan to require electors in future years to choose the winner of the nationwide popular vote. Or, I will chip in $3 or more to help DFA organize to stop Trump – and ensure that the next president is elected by National Popular Vote. There’s been a lot of breaking news lately about electors who are trying to stop Donald Trump from becoming president:

A Republican elector in Texas, Chris Suprun, wrote in The New York Times that he will not vote for Trump: “Fifteen years ago, I swore an oath to defend my country and Constitution against all enemies, foreign and domestic. On December 19, I will do it again.”

On Monday, ten electors wrote to the Director of National Intelligence to request a briefing about reports Russia interfered in the presidential election.

And, on Wednesday, Lawrence Lessig went on MSNBC and CNN and predicted as many as 20 Republican electors could defect from Trump – and perhaps more if momentum grows in the coming days.

There are plenty of reasons for the Electoral College to reject Trump, beyond the fact that he lost the popular vote by a landslide. Trump is assembling a cabinet of billionaires, bigots, and bullies who will help him loot the country, make inequality worse, and attack people of color. He’s turning the presidency into a vehicle for his own personal profit at our expense. Let’s be clear: It won’t be easy to convince at least 37 electors to reject Trump. Electors are party loyalists who rarely vote against the candidate who won their state. And the Republican National Committee is putting intense pressure on Republican electors to stand by Trump. But we have to step up and fight to defend our rights, our democracy, and our communities. That’s why we have to urge electors to do the right thing, even if the chances of success aren’t great. Will you help? YES, I will join an Electoral College protest in my state capitol on Monday, December 19. No, I can’t participate, but I will write my legislator and urge them to support the National Popular Vote plan to require electors in future years to choose the winner of the nationwide popular vote. Or, I will chip in $3 or more to help DFA organize to stop Trump – and ensure that the next president is elected by popular vote. Thank you for standing up for our democracy.

POLICE BRUTALITY IN FRANCE

Video translation: My name is Aïssa Maïga. I am proud to be here, standing alongside Assa [Traoré] and all the families who have suffered police brutality in France. I am here in remembrance of all the people, too many of them to list, who endured this violence and paid the price of it with their lives.

I am a actress and a director. The fight we are leading in French cinema, television and theater is the same fight. It’s a fight for fair, positive and decent representation of French people of African descent, of Asian descent and of Arab descent.

We will not leave this alone. We will not leave French cinema alone. We will not leave the French justice system alone. We will not leave France alone. Not as long as there is injustice and not as long as our brothers, our sisters, our children risk dying at the hands of a police force that is supposed to protect them.

02/06/20 - 20,000 protesters gathered in Paris to demand justice for Adama Traoré, a young black man who died in police custody in 2016 after being pinned face down on the floor by the weight of three cops. The demonstration went ahead despite the chief of police waiving their right to march a few hours before the agreed upon start time. Protesters were later gassed and violently dispersed by the police.

The spotlight is on the US right now and obviously it’s vital for us to show our support, but it’s equally important to engage in the work that needs to be done at home. There is plenty.

Last night’s protest comes on the heels of mounting and widespread police brutality being used in repressing demonstrations against pension reform earlier this year, as well as heightened and disproportionate policing in black and brown neighbourhoods during the Covid-19 lockdown (link contains footage of violence).

The French Ombudsman has published several reports pointing to systematic racially discriminatory practices in the French police as well as its disproportionate use of force. He has also called for a ban on the use of rubber bullets and GLI-F4 grenades. France is the only country in the EU to allow for the use of these grenades and they are directly responsible for multiple people being permanently maimed in recent protests.

An internal affairs investigation was launched in January after a black officer reported his colleagues for insulting him in a whatsapp group, which later turned out to be full of cops bandying around racial, homophobic and antisemitic slurs, hate speech and conspiracy theories. I have listened to excerpts and cannot overstate how violent and disgusting the language and the content were.

In response to French cops regularly smashing phones being used to record them, Amal Bentounsi launched the Urgence Violences Policières app, which allows for footage of police misconduct to be directly uploaded to the cloud and sent to a collective monitoring police brutality in France. Now a draft bill is being put to Parliament aiming to limit our right to document police misconduct. People could face a €15,000 fine and 6 months in prison for sharing any footage of a police officer during the performance of their duties.

Last week, Camelia Jordana, a French singer, said on television that she, like thousands of French citizens, was afraid of a police force that routinely killed people because of the colour of their skin. Our Minister for Home Affairs immediately slammed her on twitter, calling her statement shameful and defamatory and then went on to say that he would “not let the Republic’s honour be sullied”.

All of this to say that our government is complicit, and our government as well as the media establishment and French police unions are finding it very easy to point fingers across the Atlantic while denying that the same violence is being perpetrated here.

If you’re French please sign the petition against the draft bill on police footage, sign the petition to legally ban unsafe forms of restraint used by the police, educate yourself further (x, x, x, x), contact your representatives, download the UVP app, and join the protests if you are able. Black lives matter the world over and now is the moment to push for change that’s been a long time coming.

Video courtesy of Taha Bouhafs on twitter

don't ask me how he manages to hold the cling wrap with one hand

amiright or amiright

Let’s give credit where credit is due: Women’s March organizers Tamika Mallory, Bob Bland, Carmen Perez, and Linda Sarsour 

12/22 - happy birthday megumi !

he’s thrilled dont worry abt it 

I grew up in the 1960s on the West Side of Chicago. My mother died when I was six months old. She was only 16 and I never learned what it was that she died from - my grandmother, who drank more than most, couldn’t tell me later on.

It was my grandmother that took care of me. And she wasn’t a bad person - in fact she had a side to her that was so wonderful. She read to me, baked me stuff and cooked the best sweet potatoes. She just had this drinking problem. She would bring drinking partners home from the bar and after she got intoxicated and passed out these men would do things to me. It started when I was four or five years old and it became a regular occurrence. I’m certain my grandmother didn’t know anything about it. 

She worked as a domestic in the suburbs. It took her two hours to get to work and two hours to get home. So I was a latch-key kid - I wore a key around my neck and I would take myself to kindergarten and let myself back in at the end of the day. And the molesters knew about that, and they took advantage of it.

I would watch women with big glamorous hair and sparkly dresses standing on the street outside our house. I had no idea what they were up to; I just thought they were shiny. As a little girl, all I ever wanted was to be shiny. 

One day I asked my grandmother what the women were doing and she said, “Those women take their panties off and men give them money.” And I remember saying to myself, “I’ll probably do that” because men had already been taking my panties off. 

To look back now, I dealt with it all amazingly well. Alone in that house, I had imaginary friends to keep me company that I would sing and dance around with - an imaginary Elvis Presley, an imaginary Diana Ross and the Supremes. I think that helped me deal with things.

Even though I was a smart kid, I disconnected from school. Going into the 1970s, I became the kind of girl who didn’t know how to say “no” - if the little boys in the community told me that they liked me or treated me nice, they could basically have their way with me. By the time I was 14, I’d had two children with boys in the community, two baby girls. My grandmother started to say that I needed to bring in some money to pay for these kids, because there was no food in the house, we had nothing. 

So, one evening - it was actually Good Friday - I went along to the corner of Division Street and Clark Street and stood in front of the Mark Twain hotel. I was wearing a two-piece dress costing $3.99, cheap plastic shoes, and some orange lipstick which I thought might make me look older. 

I was 14 years old and I cried through everything. But I did it. I didn’t like it, but the five men who dated me that night showed me what to do. They knew I was young and it was almost as if they were excited by it. 

I made $400 but I didn’t get a cab home that night. I went home by train and I gave most of that money to my grandmother, who didn’t ask me where it came from. 

The following weekend I returned to Division and Clark, and it seemed like my grandmother was happy when I brought the money home. 

But the third time I went down there, a couple of guys pistol-whipped me and put me in the trunk of their car. They had approached me before because I was, as they called it, “unrepresented” on the street. All I knew was the light in the trunk of the car and then the faces of these two guys with their pistol. First they took me to a cornfield out in the middle of nowhere and raped me. Then they took me to a hotel room and locked me in the closet. That’s the kind of thing pimps will do to break a girl’s spirits. They kept me in there for a long time. I was begging them to let me out because I was hungry, but they would only allow me out of the closet if I agreed to work for them.

They pimped me for a while, six months or so. I wasn’t able to go home. I tried to get away but they caught me, and when they caught me they hurt me so bad. Later on, I was trafficked by other men. The physical abuse was horrible, but the real abuse was the mental abuse - the things they would say that would just stick and which you could never get from under. 

Pimps are very good at torture, they’re very good at manipulation. Some of them will do things like wake you in the middle of the night with a gun to your head. Others will pretend that they value you, and you feel like, “I’m Cinderella, and here comes my Prince Charming”. They seem so sweet and so charming and they tell you: “You just have to do this one thing for me and then you’ll get to the good part.” And you think, “My life has already been so hard, what’s a little bit more?” But you never ever do get to the good part. 

When people describe prostitution as being something that is glamorous, elegant, like in the story of Pretty Woman, well that doesn’t come close to it. A prostitute might sleep with five strangers a day. Across a year, that’s more than 1,800 men she’s having sexual intercourse or oral sex with. These are not relationships, no one’s bringing me any flowers here, trust me on that. They’re using my body like a toilet. 

And the johns - the clients - are violent. I’ve been shot five times, stabbed 13 times. I don’t know why those men attacked me, all I know is that society made it comfortable for them to do so. They brought their anger or whatever it was and they decided to wreak havoc on a prostitute, knowing I couldn’t go to the police and if I did I wouldn’t be taken seriously. I actually count myself very lucky. I knew some beautiful girls who were murdered out there on the streets.

I prostituted for 14 or 15 years before I did any drugs. But after a while, after you’ve turned as many tricks as you can, after you’ve been strangled, after someone’s put a knife to your throat or someone’s put a pillow over your head, you need something to put a bit of courage in your system. 

I was a prostitute for 25 years, and in all that time I never once saw a way out. But on 1 April 1997, when I was nearly 40 years old, a customer threw me out of his car. My dress got caught in the door and he dragged me six blocks along the ground, tearing all the skin off my face and the side of my body. 

I went to the County Hospital in Chicago and they immediately took me to the emergency room. Because of the condition I was in, they called in a police officer, who looked me over and said: “Oh I know her. She’s just a hooker. She probably beat some guy and took his money and got what she deserved.” And I could hear the nurse laughing along with him. They pushed me out into the waiting room as if I wasn’t worth anything, as if I didn’t deserve the services of the emergency room after all.

And it was at that moment, while I was waiting for the next shift to start and for someone to attend to my injuries, that I began to think about everything that had happened in my life. Up until that point I had always had some idea of what to do, where to go, how to pick myself up again. Suddenly it was like I had run out of bright ideas.

A doctor came and took care of me and she asked me to go and see social services in the hospital. What I knew about social services was they were anything but social. But they gave me a bus pass to go to a place called Genesis House, which was run by an awesome Englishwoman named Edwina Gateley, who became a great hero and mentor for me. She helped me turn my life around. It was a safe house, and I had everything that I needed there. I didn’t have to worry about paying for clothes, food, getting a job. They told me to take my time and stay as long as I needed - and I stayed almost two years. My face healed, my soul healed. I got Brenda back. 

Usually, when a woman gets out of prostitution, she doesn’t want to talk about it. What man will accept her as a wife? What person will hire her in their employment? And to begin with, after I left Genesis House, that was me too. I just wanted to get a job, pay my taxes and be like everybody else. But I started to do some volunteering with sex workers and to help a university researcher with her fieldwork. After a while I realised that nobody was helping these young ladies. Nobody was going back and saying, “That’s who I was, that’s where I was. This is who I am now. You can change too, you can heal too.” So in 2008, together with Stephanie Daniels-Wilson, we founded the Dreamcatcher Foundation. 

A dreamcatcher is a Native American object that you hang near a child’s cot. It is supposed to chase away children’s nightmares. That’s what we want to do - we want to chase away those bad dreams, those bad things that happen to young girls and women. The recent documentary film Dreamcatcher, directed by Kim Longinotto, showed the work that we do. We meet up with women who are still working on the street and we tell them, “There is a way out, we’re ready to help you when you’re ready to be helped.” We try to get through that brainwashing that says, “You’re born to do this, there’s nothing else for you.“ 

I also run after-school clubs with young girls who are exactly like I was in the 1970s. I can tell as soon as I meet a girl if she is in danger, but there is no fixed pattern. You might have one girl who’s quiet and introverted and doesn’t make eye contact. Then there might be another who’s loud and obnoxious and always getting in trouble. They’re both suffering abuse at home but they’re dealing with it in different ways - the only thing they have in common is that they are not going to talk about it. But in time they understand that I have been through what they’re going through, and then they talk to me about it.

People say different things about prostitution. Some people think that it would actually help sex workers more if it were decriminalized. I think it’s true to say that every woman has her own story. It may be OK for this girl, who is paying her way through law school, but not for this girl, who was molested as a child, who never knew she had another choice, who was just trying to get money to eat. 

But let me say this too. However the situation starts off for a girl, that’s not how the situation will end up. It might look OK now, the girl in law school might say she only has high-end clients that come to her through an agency, that she doesn’t work on the streets but arranges to meet people in hotel rooms, but the first time that someone hurts her, that’s when she really sees her situation for what it is. You always get that crazy guy slipping through and he has three or four guys behind him, and they force their way into your room and gang rape you, and take your phone and all your money. And suddenly you have no means to make a living and you’re beaten up too. That is the reality of prostitution.

Three years ago, I became the first woman in the state of Illinois to have her convictions for prostitution wiped from her record. It was after a new law was brought in, following lobbying from the Chicago Alliance Against Sexual Exploitation, a group that seeks to shift the criminal burden away from the victims of sexual trafficking. Women who have been tortured, manipulated and brainwashed should be treated as survivors, not criminals.

So I am here to tell you - there is life after so much damage, there is life after so much trauma. There is life after people have told you that you are nothing, that you are worthless and that you will never amount to anything. There is life - and I’m not just talking about a little bit of life. There is a lot of life.

10 or 11 little ducks have been spotted crossing the dash board

I like her.🥰