it's ultimately such a shame, because i think one of the true gifts daniel could have given back to the sport if he had left on good terms, is not an ambassador or a presenter, but a mentor. not a manager or anything corporate. but a training mentor. helping young guys navigate the mess. hone in on the mental side of it. analyse overtaking manoeuvres. he's always had such a big heart, such big love for the sport, and such support for newer talent coming in, and such an open personality, its a role he really could have excelled in. maybe he will later down the line. but i think its a shame that there's potential that his love and spark has maybe diminished to a sense where he doesn't wish to be involved, and as a result, a whole crop of drivers have lost his expertise.
"Our life seems to be marked with a curious and muffled violence over America, but this action has always been in the dark, men and women dying obscurely, poor and poverty marked lives, but now from city to city runs this violence, into the open, and colossal happening stand bare before our eyes, the street churning suddenly upon the pivot of mad violence, whole men suddenly spouting blood and running like living sieves, another holding a dangling arm shot squarely off, a tall youngster, running, tripping over his intestines, and one block away, in the burning sun, gay women shopping and a window dresser trying to decide whether to put green or red voile on a mannikin.
In these terrible happenings you cannot be neutral now. No one can be neutral in the face of bullets."
From "I Was Marching" by Meridel LeSeuer
A friend read this short story about the 1934 Minneapolis General Strike at their birthday party on January 24th, a day after Minnesota's general strike against ICE occupation and not even 12 hours after the murder of Alex Pretti by said occupiers. I almost didn't go. The desire to run and hide from that day's emotions was simultaneously overwhelming and shunned. How could I go celebrate a birthday when tears still chill people's faces at vigils and the anger runs hot in our blood?
I'm happy I went. My company did not ignore the day's tragedy, and even though we used the companionship as a respite from our raw emotions, we still all felt them running like an underground river beneath our weary cheerfulness.
The readings of "I Was Marching" accentuated these feelings as the events of Bloody Friday in the past paralleled the events of today too well: a general strike, protest, that day's extreme heat to our day's extreme cold, violence and death by the hands of the government. But in spite of this collective trauma endured by the people of a city, it still inspired hope. The Teamster's Union got their contract and Minneapolis became a union town.
The people endured then, as Minnesotans always have, and we will endure this. Many of us have been navigating and fighting ice our whole lives, so fighting this ICE is no different. Trump chose Minneapolis because he thought that the city is a powderkeg ready to erupt in riotous violence like in 2020 with the murder of George Floyd. He wants that same chaos and is still waiting for us to walk into his trap, its payload being the raw executive overreach of The Insurrection Act. But we see the trap and we will not walk into it, nor will we back down from our demands: ICE out now.
An extraordinary short story by pioneer of proletarian and feminist literature, the Minneapolis-based Meridel LeSueur. Set over one dramatic
Sometimes i really relate to Deckerd because i too, prevent myself from doing things i had in fact the liberty to do just because i didnt know you could do that
Like what do you mean a human being can have so many possibilities ? What do you mean its possible ? What do you mean its authorized ??
What do you mean theres nobody anymore to tell me i dont have the right to do that. What can i do ? What else can i do other than the things other around me tell me to do ? How to fill my life when i dont follow people's orders ?
This is why art is important for me, why its everything, i choosed it, i do that and no one ever ordered me not to, some tried to prevent me from making it my life project but i dont listen, because i can.
this grey henley on dean... i love my he/him stone butch dyke with a tough guy exterior but soft mushy gooey interior that cracks open as soon as you show him he's safe ... i want to watch him to crack open a beer and do carpentry and use power tools with a lit cigarette hanging from his mouth
i love that boy hes so fucking gay and he thinks his whole 'im gonna ignore him all the time to avoid the gay thoughts' plan is gonna save him. fucking idiot.
