sounds very similar to a radio story i heard in 2014 ago about credit card debt. the debt got sold to a collection company and a couple received a court summons. they knew they had taken on debt, but they were confused about who this new company was and where specifically the number they were supposed to owe came from.
they show up in court and just ask the lawyer for the collection company: can you prove where this number comes from? Do you have a contract showing that you purchased our debt? probably luckily for them, a reporter researching a book on the topic showed up and asked the same questions.
10 minutes later they get in front of the judge and the collection company drops the whole case and theyre free to go. story is below, it has a transcript in the link too
Ira talks to reporter Jake Halpern about a scene he saw take place in a Georgia courtroom where a couple uttered some magic words that seeme
It's worth knowing that depending on where you are, you paying them can be taken as proof that you acknowledge your debt to them. Other things can happen. Sometimes they call you and record you acknowledging it. The procedure for this is YOU DO NOT SAY YES TO SHIT. YOU DO NOT ACKNOWLEDGE YOUR DEBT OR YOU COULD BE FORCED TO PAY SOMEONE WHO OTHERWISE HAS NO LEGAL RIGHT TO IT.
It was even hotter than it was dark. Li could feel the water leaving her body in rivulets of sweat. No one was speaking anymore. At first, some of the other women had cried, or talked in soft tones to each other. But now there was nothing left to say. The criers had exhausted themselves. It was perhaps too stuffy even to think straight anymore, anyway.
Li tried to keep track of the passing hours, but the boxcar was only slightly ajar; just enough to let airflow in to keep the women alive. It felt like hours passed, but it could have been minutes. It all was starting to feel like a fever dream. Was this a dream? Li closed her eyes and tried to wake up. But when she opened them again she was still in her cage.
Finally the light from the crack in the door started to fade. The days were longer on this dwarf planet; she figured it was roughly noon when they’d arrived at the outpost and been tossed into the boxcar. So dusk meant about 10 hours in the box. Feeling faint, she hoped a breeze would kick up from the desert. Even if it was dusty, it would be a welcome relief. But the air stayed stagnant and hot.
Voices carried on the nearly palpable air to Li’s ears. Straining, she thought she made out a group of men. Maybe around three or so. They grew closer. She started to tense up. One woman whispered out, “Does anyone else hear that?” Li shushed her to listen.
“...then we’ll get back to the rest of the group. It doesn’t take long to feed the merchandise,” a voice finally said loudly enough for her to hear. Tensing, she tried to move away from the cracked door. But it was so crowded there was nowhere to go. A woman jostled Li out of her space. Rubbing her ribcage Li looked up, eyes wide, as the men climbed up the side of the boxcar. Any minute now they’d be on top of it.
Three pairs of feet thudded onto the metal of the tipped boxcar. They walked confidently to the door. It screeched terribly, triggering Li’s memory of being thrown into the box hours earlier. Shivering from fear, she watched.
The crack only became a few feet wider. Suddenly an old cardboard box appeared at the edge. It was dumped as one of the men called, “Sooie, come and get it!” The other two men laughed darkly as the box tipped. Something fell and landed on the woman next to Li. Peering, she saw it was a bag of chips. More items fell out of the box onto the confused women. Realizing her advantage, Li snatched up a few food items. She began eating quickly, to avoid any possible fights over the food. Suddenly the interior of the boxcar darkened even further. She looked up. A second cardboard box was being dumped into the boxcar.
Women started calling out as full water bottles hit them; Li took one to the head herself. Dropping to her knees, she was able to grab it. Shakily, she tried to rip the lid off to drink. She was parched, as she knew all the other women were. Who knew if their captors would drop enough for everyone?
Finally she won the fight with the lid; she dropped it and the bags of food and carefully raised the bottle to her lips. As soon as she made contact with it, she gulped down as much water as she could. She got through half of it before someone grabbed at the bottle. It started an immediate fight; Li was not going to mess around when this water might very well be the difference between living and dying in this boxcar. Not her, Li thought. She kicked the faceless woman in the stomach, yelling angrily. Then she went back to drinking hurriedly. But someone else grabbed at her. And another hand. Someone punched her in the chin and she saw stars. She felt her hands release the water bottle. It was gone, and with it her accosters. They were screaming and fighting over what was left. Dropping to her knees again, she looked for the food she’d abandoned on the floor earlier.
Here! Li snatched it up. The pastry was squished now, but it hardly mattered. She started to stuff her face full of chips and convenience store pastry. The grating of the closing boxcar door stopped everyone in their tracks for a moment. The men wordlessly moved it to nearly closed, then left, their retreating footsteps thudding on the boxcar as they chatted idly about the party they were missing. The women resumed scuffling over the food and water. Li finished her food as fast as she could without choking, then stood again. It was probably best not to kneel for too long. What if she got knocked over and trampled?
Finally the roiling crowd grew still again. Li figured all the food and water was gone. Now it was back to standing silently in the stuffy boxcar, watching the light in the sky slowly fade away to night.
***
Li stood all night, watching the stars slowly pass through the tiny crack. It cooled somewhat in the boxcar, but she still felt dehydrated and increasingly weak. Feeling her body diminish, she started to panic. Even if there was some kind of opportunity to escape, how far could she realistically get? And, where were they? Where was the nearest outpost that would even offer her help if she got to it?
Morning sun finally broke. She waited for the men to return with more food and water. Other women stirred somewhat at the increasing light, but no one really spoke to each other. They were all enemies after last night. Li shuddered slightly; she felt lucky to only have received one punch. She had to keep hydrated, and keep her body in good shape. To run.
The day drug by, the boxcar heating up slowly. The women stood silently as the air became stifling. Li mentally begged for wind, any amount of wind, squinting up into the brightened sky. But, there was no whisper of wind nor of approaching men.
They stood all day, until someone fell over. The women around her tried to help her to her feet. But she had fainted. They left her. The day continued. Another woman woozily fell to her knees, then down to the floor. The day continued. By the earliest hint of nightfall, Li had counted six other women to go down. None of them had gotten back up, as far as she could tell by sound.
Finally night started to overtake the sky in the crack in the door, and Li again heard voices coming. She steeled herself for the fight ahead. The men came slowly, unworried, their voices light. They climbed up the boxcar slowly, pulled the door back slowly. They laughingly dumped the food again and retreated to wherever they came from while Li and the others fought each other viciously.
***
The next day was much the same. Finally, there was some room to move around in the boxcar, but the smell was overwhelming. Li tried not to think about it; tried to ignore the fact that the foul, cloying smell choking her in the hot, dark air was the smell of death and human waste. Weak and picking at her dry lips, she stood nervously watching the light in the crack slowly change position. Finally it appeared to be near noon. The heat and the stench was enough to make one pass out. Li wondered if it would be safe to nap. Even just for a little bit... just to sleep. She realized she was also simply feeling delirious due to lack of rest. She needed to be sharp, aware. But, --
There was a soft swishing of sand outside. Li’s eyes bugged out slightly for a moment. Wind? Would it blow into The Boxcar? Nothing. She strained to hear, biting at her lower lip. Someone was climbing up The Boxcar. But slowly... furtively? Light footfalls hit the top of The Car. Some of the other women had noticed too. They all waited silently, terrified. What was this new threat?
A long, cylindrical piece of metal appeared in the light. Li belatedly realized it was a crowbar as the door screeched open, just a slight bit. It stopped suddenly. Then, a bit more. The crowbar disappeared. Rustling sounds hit her ears. A dark outline of a man appeared; he knelt and looked down into the widened entryway he’d made. Turning on a flashlight, he shone it around the interior. Li blinked and averted her gaze, but didn’t look around with him. She didn’t want to know.
He called out, voice raspy and slightly muffled, “Come with me. I can get you out.” He disappeared momentarily, then reappeared. Throwing something down, he called again, “It’s a rope ladder. Come quickly.”
For a split second, Li was frozen. The others were too. Was it a game? Then she snapped out of it. This might be a chance. Even if it was just to get out of The Boxcar, she’d take it. She leapt forward two steps and grabbed onto either side of the rope ladder. Pulling with all her remaining strength, she managed to get both feet off the ground and onto ladder rungs. It was shaky, hard work. But she finally was nearly face-to-face with the man. He had a dingy white spacesuit helmet on. Confused, she stopped short despite herself and furrowed her brow.
“Come, it’s alright,” he rasped gently, then offered her a gloved hand. “Take my hand; I’ll pull you up the rest of the way.”
Muscles screaming, she carefully loosened her grip on one of the ropes. She looked at her hand; it wouldn’t let go. She looked back up at him. He seemed to understand, “Take a deep breath in and then exhale. Then, take my hand.”
Li did as instructed. She heard other women angrily yelling at her to move. Finally she was able to let go of the rope. She reached up and snapped her smaller hand around his wrist. He grabbed her wrist firmly and easily pulled her up. Before she could comprehend, she was up, in the bright daytime. She took a deep breath in, held it, and sighed it out. Realizing her eyes were closed, she blinked them open. She was still face-to-face with the dirty helmet. It tilted slightly to the right, “Can you stand on your own?”
“Huh?” She managed, her voice cracking and whisper-soft. Then she realized his hands were on her. One was on the small of her back; the other was holding an elbow. She tried to scream but nothing came out. His hands disappeared and she stood on her own, swaying slightly.
The man backed up a step further. Straightening up, he said more loudly, “We have to go now. Come with me.” Glancing at her again, he nodded awkwardly, then turned away from her. He quickly made his way to the edge of The Boxcar and disappeared over the edge the way he’d come from. The small group of women who had been able to climb out so far rushed after him. Li found herself caught up in the rush and scurried downwards, then forwards into the hot sand. It bit at her sandaled feet, but she kept up with the group. The man led them at a jogging pace. It was all Li could do to make her feet move fast enough to not get left behind. She felt the sun beating down on her mostly bare skin. Hot, hot, hot.
They jogged towards an outcropping of rocks. They were jagged; unfriendly. But there was what appeared to be a bit of shade. As the rocks grew larger, Li confirmed, there was shade. She locked her eyes on the man and followed, laboring.
***
They had stopped at the outcropping to rest and hide from anyone looking for them. He had no water, but the man helped all the women find shade. Exhausted, Li curled up with just enough shade to keep herself in it.
She felt herself gently rocking. “Hey, kid.” She jumped up. Heart beating out of her chest, she realized she was surrounded by the group of women from earlier. The man was in front of her. She stared at him. He cleared his throat, helmet dipping down slightly, “This is where we separate. It’ll be dusk in about 15 minutes. Once it’s dark enough, head east -- this way --” He pointed, “Go 10 hours walking. There’s an outpost there that will help you.”
The women nodded grimly and turned as a group, heading out. Li felt unsure if she could make it. But what else could she do?
“You can make it,” the man’s raspy voice was gentle. Li felt herself start to tear up. Huffing, she nodded at him. Then she turned and jogged to catch up the short distance from the group.
***
When Li woke up, it was still dark out, but the sun was surely coming up any moment. She stood and stretched. Trying to yawn, she found it painful from the lack of moisture in her mouth. Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, she blinked them open again and took stock of her stark surroundings. A gentle breeze blew, tickling her skin. Rubbing her arm slightly, she sighed.
The others had left her. She couldn’t keep up with them. So she’d fallen further and further behind, until they were no longer within view. She couldn’t blame them. Time was not on their side, and they wanted to live. So she’d limped to the small rock formation and curled up in it to rest. But now she was surely hours behind, and would have to walk during the day to make it. With no water. Again the notion that she couldn’t make it passed through her mind.
An engine’s unmistakable roar reached her ears over the sand. It was far away, but she heard it. Scanning the horizon, she saw a caravan of trucks making its way through the terrain. They were going deadly fast.
Li dropped to the ground. Was it the slavers? She crawled around the rocks, out of sight. But they were headed in the direction she needed to go. She couldn’t risk it. But, she couldn’t wait here a full day either. Desperate, she inspected the horizon. If she could make it over the huge dune in front of her without being seen, she could modify her course and hopefully avoid them while still heading roughly east.
The dune had been much larger and harder to scale than expected. Fully exhausted again, Li laid down in the sand as the sun really began to beat down on it. But she was so tired.
***
It was soft, warm. She felt cocooned in comfort. As she drifted to consciousness, she wondered if she were dead. Was it the sand that was so soft?
Her eyes opened slowly. She was looking at a falsa blanket. Sitting up slowly, she rubbed her eyes with her right hand and propped herself up on her left elbow. She realized she was staring at the back of a sofa. Above it was a wide window. Was she in an RV?
“So, you’re awake,” a soft raspy voice commented.
Li leapt to her feet on the sofa cushion, letting out a short scream. Turning around, her shoulders relaxed. It was the man from earlier. He tilted his helmet up to look at her. He was sitting casually on a built-in bench, hands clasped in his lap.
“What -- what happened?” She tried to ask, voice a raw whisper.
“I... found you in the sand,” he said strangely. “You must be thirsty. Sit, please,” He stood. Li sank down onto the sofa, pulling up the soft blanket that had been wrapped around her. Turning from her, he commented, “You’re safe here. I’m going to get you a meal.”
He disappeared around a corner. She heard kitchen noises. Too afraid to move, she waited, picking at her nails. He reappeared, holding a plate in one hand. Li’s mouth dropped as he got closer; there was a thick sandwich on it. He offered it to her wordlessly. Accepting it timidly, she realized his other hand was offering her a glass of clean water. Snatching it, she carefully set the plate down in her lap and guzzled the water. He took it from her and silently disappeared around the corner again. Li bit into the sandwich. It was delicious. She devoured it. When she put the plate aside, she heard a soft, “Here.” Startled, she looked up. He was offering her another glass of clean water.
She took it reverently this time. As she downed it, he retreated to the seat where he’d been before. Settling back into it, he asked, “Better?”
She nodded, setting the glass and plate down on the coffee table in front of her. Realizing she should probably say something, she said softly, “Thank you.”
He nodded, his helmet dipping momentarily. There was a quiet moment. Feeling awkward, Li continued, “You carried me here?”
“Yes.”
“... where is that?”
“My home. South of where they were keeping you. About a quarter of a day’s walk.”
“Oh.” She tried to figure out what direction the outpost was in now, and how far away.
“Once you’re strong enough, I’ll show you the way to the outpost.” He folded his hands in his lap again. “Until then, you can sleep on my couch.”
“Maybe just a day or two,” She suggested nervously.
He shrugged casually. “Sure.”
They looked at each other. Finally Li decided she had to say something. “I -- I. You saved my life. ...Thank you.”
“Sure.” He said noncommittally.
“Uh, why’d you follow us?” Li snapped her mouth shut, afraid she might offend him.
“I just thought... I might make sure you get there.”
“Did you see that caravan?”
“Yes. It was the slavers.”
Li huffed a cry, then settled down. “Do you think the other women made it?”
“Dunno,” he shrugged, helmet tilting a bit before straightening. Suddenly he sat up a bit. “I’ll leave you alone. I bet you'd like to be alone for a while.” Standing, he disappeared around a corner again.
One of my biggest literary pet peeves is when historical or history-inspired fiction pretends that "courting" is a synonym for "dating". Usually it's just a one-to-one word swap--in a modern context, these characters would be dating, but this is olden times, so they call it courting instead. Sometimes they'll pretend there's a shade of difference, and that courting is a more serious exploration of marriage or something. But I read a lot of fiction that was actually written during these historical eras, and the word "courting" is never used like that.
Two people do not decide that they are "courting". One person decides to "court" someone else. It's an action, not a stage in the relationship. A man decides to court a woman because he wants to encourage her to have romantic interest in him. He's trying to win her favor. It's not an exclusive relationship--a woman could be courted by multiple men at once. She'll spend time getting to know the guy who's interested in her, but they won't officially define their relationship as one where they only show romantic interest in each other. If they reach a point where they want it to be exclusive, that's when you propose.
There's no middle ground--either you're getting to know each other, or you're committed to marrying each other. This idea of a period where you kind of commit to each other until you decide you definitely want to get married is a modern one, and it occurs in eras where they use the word "dating" to describe it. The closest equivalent I can think of are times and places where they'd talk about a couple "stepping out together", but they're still not calling it "courting". Words have meaning, and the word "courting" has never meant that, so stop using it that way!
i think we should be ridiculing them more for this. you don't get to try and go all "queer website" when your staff likes to go on nuking sprees targeting the trans fem users
would be remiss not to mention that the rainbow notably straight up just removed the trans flag colors from it. like they’re gone. it’s the progress flag minus the trans flag colors.
I highly recommend watching this testimony from Aliya Rahman, the disabled woman who was dragged out of her car and kidnapped by ICE on her way to a doctor appointment in Minneapolis a few weeks ago.
Thank you members, for taking the time to be here today, and thank you staff for making this happen.
My name is Aliya Rahman, and I am a resident of South Minneapolis. I am a Bangladeshi American born in Northern Wisconsin. And I’m a disabled person with autism and a traumatic brain injury.
Not all autistic brains do this, but mine fixates on sounds, numbers, and patterns. And while what the world saw happen to me exactly three weeks ago today on video was a terrible violation it is still nothing compared to the horrific practices I saw inside the Whipple center.
So I am here today with a duty to the people who have not had the privilege of coming home, and I offer this data because these practices must end now.
On January 13th on the way to my 39th appointment at Hennepin County’s traumatic brain injury center, I encountered a traffic jam caused by ICE vehicles and no signs indicating how to get around it. I had not wanted to pull in to a blocked, chaotic intersection, but verbally agreed to do so and rolled down my window after an agent yelled, “Move! I will break your f-ing window!”
His first instruction.
Agents on all sides of my vehicle yelled conflicting threats and instructions that I could not process while watching for pedestrians.
Then, the glass of the passenger side window flew across my face.
I yelled, “I’m disabled!” at the hands grabbing at me and an agent said, “Too late.”
I felt immersed in a pattern, and I thought of Jenoah Donald, an autistic black man killed by the police during a traffic stop in 2021.
I remembered mister Silverio Villegas González, who was killed by ICE in his vehicle last year.
An agent pulled a large combat knife in front of my face, which I thought was for cutting me, and later learned was used to cut off my seat belt. Shooting pain went through my head, neck, and wrists when I hit the ground face first and people leaned on my back.
I felt the pattern, and I thought of mister George Floyd, who was killed four blocks away.
I was carried face down through the street by my cuffed arms and legs while yelling that I had a brain injury and was disabled. I now cannot lift my arms normally.
I was never asked for ID.
Never told I was under arrest.
Never read my rights.
And never charged with a crime.
Approaching the Whipple center, I saw black and brown bodies shackled together, chained together, being marched by yelling agents outdoors. I continued to hear the word “bodies”, because that is how agents referred to us:
“We’re bringing in a body.”
“They’re bringing in bodies 7, 8 at a time, where do I put ‘em?”
“We can’t use that room, there’s already a body in there.”
You have no reason to believe you will make it out alive if you’re already being called a body.
Agents repeatedly had to stop and ask how to do tasks. I received no medical screening, phone call, or access to a lawyer. I was denied a communication navigator when my speech began to slur. Agents laughed as I tried to immobilize my own neck. I asked for my cane and was told no, pulled up by my arms and prodded forward in leg irons by agents laughing and saying, “Walk! You can do it, walk.”
Agents did not know if the facility had a wheelchair.
When I was finally placed in one to be taken to interrogation an agent taunted, “You were driving, right? So your legs do work.”
I pleaded for emergency medical care for over an hour after my vision had become blurry, my heart rate went through the roof, and the pain in my neck and head became unbearable.
It was denied.
When I became unable to speak my cellmate pleaded for me.
The last sounds I remember before I blacked out on the cell floor were my cellmate banging on the door, pleading for a medic, and a voice outside saying, “We don’t wanna step on ICE’s toes.”
When I opened my eyes at Hennepin County’s emergency room, I learned I was brought there to be treated for assault.
The impacts of DHS detention on my physical, mental and financial well-being and safety have been very severe, but I do not deserve more humane treatment than anyone else, US citizen or not. And I am here today with a strong spirit and a duty to the many people who haven’t had the privilege to tell their stories or see their loved ones come home. I am extremely distressed by the pattern that violence from law enforcement has been happening to black and indigenous communities for centuries, and to DHS survivors for over 20 years.
We call ourselves a civilized nation, but we lack rules and accountability around what a person claiming to be law enforcement is permitted to do to another human being.
I am not afraid, and I’m not afraid to keep working on this problem even after ICE is gone. Thank you for your time.
So I keep forgetting that my scanner and the colour red are not vibing (I guess the time for a more heavy duty scanner has come) but like.. I put the first layer of colour down already when I remembered that lil fact. I wanted Corsica in that fetching Ruby Red Ink I have anyway so here we are.
tumblr just added an update that requires you to verify your age in order to view "mature content". I'm not sure how they do the verification (haven't yet checked), but given recent similar updates from things like Discord, it most likely involves sending them a photo of either your face or your ID.
In addition, over the past few months, and also years in the long-term, tumblr has been incorrectly marking things as mature content. These include:
Notifications about missing persons and requests for help
Posts about youth liberation
Posts about sex education
Posts about how the mature content is poorly implemented
Posts about being trans, more specifically about trans women and transmisogyny by both tumblr and users on tumblr
Non-sexual selfies by trans women/transfems
Trans womens'/transefems' ENTIRE BLOGS even if the blog contains no sexual content
Reblogs made by various blogs, mostly trans women, which add no additional content but somehow are marked as containing mature content, when the original post is not
Posts talking about racism and antiblackness both on and off tumblr
Posts by black people, especially black trans people, that are non-sexual
And likely many more I haven't seen
In essence, this update has mandated that a majority of users (within the UK and Brazil) must either a) submit their personal information to tumblr, a website whose moderation has been EXTREMELY biased against marginalised people and who I would not trust with my ID, or b) be excluded from absolutely all conversations tumblr decides are "mature content", whether they are actually sexual in nature or not. Furthermore, anyone not over 18 will also not be allowed to take part in these conversations, or even see them, or interact with many trans women or people of colour on this site, as tumblr decides.
This update is complete bullshit designed to censor and exclude marginalised people, poorly hidden under a guise of "protecting teenagers from sexual content", and they know it.
EDIT: This update apparently only affects users in the UK or Brazil, like me. This is still bullshit even if it's just some people.
it is still genuinely so crazy to me that tumblr has special scorched earth instant kill moderation tools that are used almost exclusively against victims of harassment campaigns
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