Martha Argerich Renaud Capuçon Cesar Franck Sonata
😄❤️🌹
cherry valley forever
todays bird
we're not kids anymore.

祝日 / Permanent Vacation

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Stranger Things

⁂

shark vs the universe
🪼
$LAYYYTER
styofa doing anything

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
Keni
trying on a metaphor
Show & Tell
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year

pixel skylines
Jules of Nature

JVL

blake kathryn
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@gothicsynthetic
Martha Argerich Renaud Capuçon Cesar Franck Sonata
😄❤️🌹
Kenneth MacMillan, Manon
Mathieu Ganio and Myriam Ould Braham
ph. Svetlana Loboff
Gold wreath with detached stem including leaves and berries
Greek, Hellenistic Period, 300-100 B.C.
Getty Museum
“The true hero, the true subject, the centre of the Iliad is force. Force employed by man, force that enslaves man, force before which man’s flesh shrinks away. In this work, at all times, the human spirit is shown as modified by its relations with force, as swept away, blinded, by the very force it imagined it could handle, as deformed by the weight of the force it submits to.”
— Simone Weil, “The Iliad or The Poem of Force”
Portable Irish harp (Dublin, circa 1820) made by John Egan (Irish, active about 1804–1841).
Maple and spruce.
Image and text information courtesy MFA Boston.
Shirahige shrine, Shiga, Japan 白鬚神社. Photography by HYPO on Ganref
mermaid 1996 (dir. aleksandr petrov)
“The tyrant dies and his rule is over, the martyr dies and his rule begins.”
— Søren Kierkegaard, Journals
Shuki Okamoto(岡本秋暉 Japanese, 1807-1872)
Auspicious Symbols: Crane, Rising Sun and Peach
Aboriginal Dot painting by Johnny Warangkula Tjupurrula
The Timurid Quran manuscript, also known as the Aqquyunlu Quran manuscript, is a 15th-century Timurid Quranic manuscript written on paper produced in the Ming dynasty.
Katsushika Hokusai Herbaceous peony and canary (unrestored) 1834
Sometimes these original unrestored versions are beautiful in an entirely different way
Life can be understood backwards, but we have to live it forwards.
Memoir of a Snail (2024), directed by Adam Elliot
Nigerian sculptor Blessing Ejiroghene Instagram · @ejirofenegal
A stunner
Karanga- Te Karanga
(‘Karanga - The Calling’)
by Maori artist Todd Couper
by Jean Michel Basquiat
* * * *
Fascism in Plain Sight: When Corporate Power Aligns with Authoritarian Rule
When repression is built into policy, budget lines, and legal codes, it doesn’t need to wear a uniform. It just needs to be enforced.
James B. Greenberg
Jul 18, 2025
The architecture of repression is being built. The question is not if it will be used—but against whom, and when.
There’s a moment when critique becomes diagnosis. When the pattern becomes the plan. What we are seeing in the United States today is no longer a drift toward authoritarianism—it is its infrastructure being formalized, legalized, and funded. The fusion of executive power, corporate capital, and repressive machinery is not new in history. But its configuration here—under the guise of legality, patriotism, and economic efficiency—should alarm anyone who has studied the early stages of fascism.
Fascism is not a slur. It is a structure. A process. And we are walking it, step by step.
The detention centers being built for foreign nationals—many of whom are asylum seekers, long-time residents, or people whose visas have been revoked—are not simply immigration infrastructure. They are the physical manifestation of a political logic that sees entire groups of people as threats to the state. What begins as the criminalization of border crossers does not stop there. History is painfully clear: once the legal category of “enemy” is normalized, it expands.
And the machinery to enforce it—private detention contracts, militarized police, surveillance tech, armed civilian militias—will already be in place.
This is not speculation. It is precedent. In fascist Italy and Nazi Germany, repression didn’t begin with death camps. It began with laws. With economic alliances. With the use of state power to target scapegoated minorities while rewarding loyal capital. The early Nazi regime did not nationalize corporations—it partnered with them. IG Farben. Krupp. Siemens. These firms profited while the regime silenced opposition, redefined citizenship, and suspended civil protections.
That same alliance is now visible in the United States. Corporations bankroll campaigns that promise deregulation, union suppression, and tax cuts. In exchange, they enable the infrastructure of surveillance, subcontract incarceration, and provide the digital tools for monitoring dissent. The result is not just inequality—it is impunity for those who profit from the system and criminalization for those who resist it.
What we are seeing is the reorientation of state power. Not to serve public needs, but to protect wealth, punish dissent, and reshape belonging.
Fascism doesn’t announce itself. It begins with rules, categories, procedures. It hides behind legal language and budget cuts. It embeds itself in zoning codes, funding decisions, arrest records, and algorithmic risk scores. As anthropologists have long shown, state violence often works through mundane bureaucratic routines—forms, refusals, delays, quotas—disguising exclusion as administration.
The public sees only the visible tip: a border wall, a detention raid, a protest broken up. What lies beneath is a vast infrastructure designed to manage dissent, disqualify compassion, and reward obedience.
In that logic, fear becomes governance. The state does not have to be everywhere—it only has to make an example of someone. A few families detained. A few teachers silenced. A few journalists charged. The rest get the message.
Political ecology helps us see that authoritarianism does not just decide who belongs—it decides who survives. The same logic that strips legal protections from migrants also withdraws environmental protections from communities, treating both as expendable. The repressive state does not just patrol borders; it allocates harm.
In this moral economy, punishment is not just a deterrent—it is a signal. Anthropologically, fascism relies on what some cultures express in ritual: the creation of purity through the exclusion or sacrifice of the other. Those targeted are not simply punished; they are made to represent disorder, impurity, contagion. The spectacle of their punishment reaffirms the imagined moral order.
But there is another story to tell. One rooted in a very different anthropology: of mutual care, of collective memory, of moral refusal. If we are to resist what is emerging, we must recognize it for what it is—not an aberration, but a project. Not incompetence, but design.
And we must ask: When the next group is redefined as enemies of the state, who will speak? Who will stand?
The time to ask is now—before the walls are built higher, the laws made tighter, and the machinery turned inward.
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Suggested Readings
Brown, Wendy. In the Ruins of Neoliberalism: The Rise of Antidemocratic Politics in the West. New York: Columbia University Press, 2019.
Mbembe, Achille. Necropolitics. Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 2019.
Paxton, Robert O. The Anatomy of Fascism. New York: Vintage Books, 2005.
Scott, James C. Seeing Like a State: How Certain Schemes to Improve the Human Condition Have Failed. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1998.
Stanley, Jason. How Fascism Works: The Politics of Us and Them. New York: Random House, 2018.
Snyder, Timothy. On Tyranny: Twenty Lessons from the Twentieth Century. New York: Crown Publishing, 2017.
Trouillot, Michel-Rolph. Silencing the Past: Power and the Production of History. Boston: Beacon Press, 1995.
Vélez-Ibáñez, Carlos G. The Rise of Necro/Narco Citizenship: Belonging and Dying in the National Borderlands. Tucson: University of Arizona Press, 2025.