Waltzing through the twilight of empire: a curation on Southern culture, food, music, history and politics from a proud Southern Leftist in the Tcoupizine Triangle.
I'm sorry. This is not correct. The idea that bisexual people are not attracted to trans/ gender fluid/ non-binary is unfortunately one of the more enduring biphobic platitudes among the queer community.
bi - likes same and other genders
So, as to the original poster's question, bi- can be pan-, but isn't necessarily. The main difference is in how the individual wants to self-identify.
In England and the United States, the police were invented within the space of just a few decadesâroughly from 1825 to 1855.
The new institution was not a response to an increase in crime, and it really didnât lead to new methods for dealing with crime. The most common way for authorities to solve a crime, before and since the invention of police, has been for someone to tell them who did it.
Besides, crime has to do with the acts of individuals, and the ruling elites who invented the police were responding to challenges posed by collective action. To put it in a nutshell: The authorities created the police in response to large, defiant crowds. Thatâs
â strikes in England,
â riots in the Northern US,
â and the threat of slave insurrections in the South.
So the police are a response to crowds, not to crime.
Origins of the Police by David Whitehouse (via classwaru)
Thereâs a whole chapter in a book on the rise of unions in my hometown, Mechanics and Manufacturers in the Early Industrial Revolution by Paul G. Faler, that deals with how the police formed there in response to the growing labor movement.
â[âŠ] the role of the constables gradually changed as they were called upon to enforce the standards of conduct that accompanied the early stages of industrialization. An illustration of the changed that occurred is found in the constablesâ badge of authority, the staff. In the late 1840s, John A Thurston, deputy police chief, cut the staff into pieces and made billy clubs. The need for a corps of trained, experienced, and armed police arose from the conflict engendered in the imposition of a moral code, which a portion of the population did not accept.â p.136
Gene Nichol has released a statement on the Board of Governors' vote to close the UNC poverty center. -
"On an otherwise dark day for the University of North Carolina, I am happy to announce that, in response to the censorship efforts of the Board of Governors, an impressive array of foundations and private donors has stepped forward to assure that the work of the center, if not the center itself, will continue and markedly expand. Generous grants and donations will allow for the creation of a North Carolina poverty research fund at the law school to support our efforts to describe, document and combat the wrenching challenges of Tar Heel poverty.
"The fund will allow us to hire student, faculty and post-doctorate scholars to assist me in probing the causes of, and solutions to, economic injustice. We will carry forward the work of the center within the halls of the university, but with greater flexibility and increased resources. North Carolinians are not easily cowered. They react poorly to petty tyrants. They always have. If the Board of Governors moves to block the creation of such a research fund â a turn that is not unlikely â I will be eager to join them in federal court."
I was born and raised in Donaldsonville, Louisiana. When I grew up in the 1950s, it was cool to be stupid. Smart kids, kids who studied, were âfruitsâ â but if you acted stupid (whether you actually were or not), smoked cigarettes and didnât try in school, you were cool. If you aspired to more than slamming Falstaff and Sloe Gin at the Town and Country Club on Friday and Saturday nights (after eating delicious rabbit spaghetti you could buy for a quarter at the Knights of Columbus hall), you had no place in the âin crowd.â
In many ways, the Donaldsonville of the 1950s has been writ large by our state and its governor.
On a drive West last summer, I overnighted in Las Cruces, New Mexico. On University Avenue, banners proudly trumpeted New Mexico State University as a U.S. News Tier One University. Tier One â in a place that is so barren, so hot, with no water, no oil, no fisheries, no agriculture . . . no anything. Except a Tier One public university.
We should be ashamed and embarrassed. I am. The tired trope that Louisiana is a âpoor stateâ is a red herring and a copout for incompetence, greed and corruption. Weâve been gifted the richest patrimony of any state in this country. Maybe of anyplace in the world. Yes, it gets hot and humid in July, August and September, but thatâs offset by Creole tomatoes.
How did we screw this up so badly? Itâs like inheriting a fortune and frittering it away buying racehorses or playing video poker. We pay dearly, and continuously, for our dissipation.
We have one of the highest HIV rates in America â New Orleans and Baton Rouge rank second and third among U.S. cities, respectively â and an administration that refuses to accept the bounty of the Affordable Care Act to address the need for medical care for working class citizens. So they go to emergency rooms, increasing the cost of health care for us all and ultimately forcing closure of some ERs â or they go without medical care and call in sick, which costs their employers.
Our state likewise ranks high on other âbadâ lists â for rates of obesity, diabetes, cancer, infant mortality, teen pregnancy, illiteracy, high school dropouts, low birth weight babies and more. We also have the highest incarceration rate in the civilized world and marijuana laws that imprison a disproportionate number of young black males for doing the north Louisiana equivalent of drinking beer.
In the face of all this, we have a governor who, although he is a graduate of an Ivy League university, continues to demonstrate his solidarity with 1950s Donaldsonville by championing policies that are not future focused and seem oblivious to the competitive realities of todayâs globally connected economy.
These policies have been perpetuated for centuries by dreadful governors who, with a few exceptions, would be challenged to manage a small business, much less an enterprise the size of the State of Louisiana.
Our current governor is so in thrall to the Grover Norquist concept of the common good, which demands reducing the size of government until it can be drowned in a bathtub, that he wouldnât even tolerate renewing a modest sales tax on cigarettes in 2011.
Signing a âno tax under any conditionsâ pledge is a total abdication of the responsibility that we, the citizens of Louisiana, elected him to carry out. Instead, it cedes that responsibility to a Washington, D.C., zealot who is funded by billionaires and corporations who donât give a flip about the people of Louisiana. Jeb Bush wonât sign it.
For all his âIvy League policy wonkâ cred, Bobby Jindal reeks of 1950s Donaldsonville.
But wait, thereâs more.
Our infrastructure is crumbling, public funding for higher education has been gutted, we have the environmental sensibility of Chad, and K-12 public education in many school districts is in shambles.
At the same time, we subsidize refinery and industrial plant projects that would be âNIMBYâ anyplace else in the country. Valero wants to build a refinery in Santa Barbara? I donât think so. Many of the subsidized projects should be paying us to locate here. They need our natural gas and our access to the Mississippi River.
I often ask myself, âWhy do I still live here?â I live here because I love it. I am of this place. And I want to do what little I can to change it.
I wish there were more of my fellow citizens who understand that diversity, education, and future-focused thinking represent the way out of the poverty and ignorance that dog our population, but Iâm resigned to the truth that it will take more generations than mine to escape that legacy. That legacy, by the way, prevents us from being more than just a natural-resource-rich state exploited by people smarter than we. Sadly, it wouldnât take much to make smarter choices than our current governor.
If New Mexico were blessed with the climate, the agriculture, the timber, the fisheries, the oil and gas, the water, the culture, the food, the music, the tourism, the transportation resources and all the other blessings we have, that state would be richer than Saudi Arabia. It wouldnât be mired in the psychic Petri dish of backward thinking that we lovingly call home.
But itâs not fair to just kvetch and not offer a solution. Being Louisiana, there is an easy fix.
Right now with the collapse of crude prices and the accompanying dramatic reduction in pump prices, the Legislature could (and should) muster the moral and political courage to pass a veto-proof temporary increase in the gasoline tax. Or restore the Stelly Plan, or tax cigarettes or some combination of those options â at least until we can elect someone who cares about us and has the vision to develop a sustainable budget in place of the serial ad hockery legerdemain of this administration.
Gov. Mike Foster fully funded LSU when oil was $11 a barrel; youâd think this governor could do it at $50 a barrel â and not put our bond credit rating in danger of being downgraded.
We have the ninth-lowest gas pump price in the nation and we are tied with Texas for the ninth-lowest per gallon gasoline tax in the nation. A temporary gasoline tax increase could at least keep higher education, especially our flagship university (a main driver of economic development), from being gutted by a lame duck âpresidential aspirantâ who cares more about the people of Iowa than he does about us.
New Orleans is neither big nor easy; it is small and challenging. Most in the media here hit their ceiling pretty quickly. With Katrinaâs aid, however, Rose had shattered that ceiling. He managed to represent New Orleans while also transcending it. Heâd escaped drugs and was now getting great work, and much love from the city. But rather than his increasingly public face, it was Roseâs right hand that caused his third undoing.
âIt was a mysterious congenital problem. My thumb stopped working,â claims Rose. âI was in great pain. I couldnât write. They did surgery ⊠took out a couple bones, replaced it with some steel, then a cast up to my fingertips and up above my elbow. What I thought was gonna be three weeks out of work was five months [physically] incapacitated.â
âI also knew going into the surgery that I was going to get addicted again,â Rose admits. âThis is a common problem for addicts.â
Rose finally resumed work in 2011, still hazy on pills. âI came back toGambit, I came back to Fox 8, and I faltered terribly at both. Thatâs when I started missing deadlines and doing shit work.â Itâs tough for even Rose to pinpoint when he wandered off the Gambit Weekly job, but the magazine never ran another piece of his writing, and now rarely, if ever, answers his emails.
Rose took the hint and re-entered rehab for a third time in New Orleans. Addict lore claims that rehab sticks the third time. Rose sucks his Pimmâs cup down to the ice and recalls this heavy decision in the same stark, sentimental terms he might use in one of his ledes: âFirst time I went to rehab to save my marriageâdidnât work, lost my marriage and my sister. Second time I went to save my jobâI left my job. Third time, I went to save my life.â
Back home, Fox 8 held Roseâs position for him. âThey made a great act of faith and flew me back one week per month, and I would tape eight segments at once,â says Rose, for whom Fox 8 rented French Quarter hotel accommodations each visit. This would not last: Calling him a âluxury we canât afford,â Fox 8 finally released Rose for âbudgetary reasons.â âTheir budget cuts came down to releasing the lowest-paid, most popular person on their staff,â Rose says, pushing away some uneaten seeded muffaletta bun. âAnd no other budget cuts. Just me.â
Rose theorizes that his TV career was actually ended by an unhappy Tom Benson, owner of Fox 8 and the New Orleans Saints football franchise: âHe was hosting the Super Bowl and I questioned some of the cityâs spending on cosmetics when people in Gentilly still didnât have streetlights,â he says, leaning back in his seat. The Fox 8 organization answered Roseâs accusations thoroughly in an April 2013Times-Picayune piece. Mikel Schaefer later told CJR that two other Fox 8 positions were, in fact, âaffectedâ for budgetary reasons a few weeks after Rose was cut. But he declined to comment on why Rose hasnât filmed a Fox 8 segment since.
Clean, sober, and again a free agent, Rose this time found himself deeply unemployed. Having been praised for understanding New Orleans in a special way, he suddenly, finally, also understood its smallness. âFor seven months I was getting turned down. I kept thinking, âSomeone is gonna hire me. Iâm Chris Rose.â It took a while for me to realize, all these unreturned phone calls ⊠Iâm not gonna get a job here. And I had no other marketable skills. For 30 years thereâs never been any question of what I was gonna do.â
When someone works for less pay than she can live on - when, for example, she goes hungry so that you can eat more cheaply and conveniently - then she has made a great sacrifice for you, she has made you a gift of some part of her abilities, her health, and her life. The âworking poor,â as there are approvingly termed, are in fact the major philanthropists of our society. They neglect their own children so that the children of others will be cared for; they live in substandard housing so that other homes will be shiny and perfect; they endure privation so that inflation will be low and stock prices high. To be a member of the working poor is to be an anonymous donor, a nameless benefactor, to everyone else.
Barbara Ehrenreich, âNickel and Dimed: On (Not) Getting By In Americaâ
I recently read this book, and while several observations and statistics stuck out to me, this quote, on the last page, I believe really sums things up quite well.
The 7th Congressional District of Tennessee is a congressional district located in the middle and southwestern parts of the state, connecting suburbs of Nashville to suburbs of Memphis.
The 7th is a very safe seat for the Republican Party. In fact, it has long been reckoned as the stateâs most Republican area outside the partyâs traditional heartland in East Tennessee.
 Democrats have made only two serious bids for the district since it took on its current form in 1983, and came within single digits only once. Most of the districtâs residents have not been represented by a Democrat since 1973.
Nashville and Memphis are approximately 210 miles apart along Interstate 40.
kianamaiart
andulkaphoto
gummygunk
titsay
germansingergirl
ellievsbear
origamiaround
