tnimytnuc

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ask Ⓐ ☭

hit me on AIM,
flip me up some game:
coffeebeanerrr

This is the version I meant to reblog earlier.

(Source: theblackhippie)

eteve:

Selena Gomez & The Scene /Love You Like A Love Song


don’t juddddge meeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaghh!!!
D’:

By the early 1970s, counterinsurgency theorist Louis O. Giufrida, at the time running a subpart of the California Specialized Training Institute, had been secretly commissioned by Governor Ronald Reagan to develop scenarios for deploying “rapid reaction forces” integrating state and local SWAT teams with police political intelligence units, the national guard, FBI counterintelligence and SWAT personnel, military intelligence, and selected “patriotic” organizations to quell “civil disturbances”. Code-named “Garden Plot” and “Cable Splicer,” Giufrida’s plans were tentatively adopted by the Bureau, field-tested against [the American Indian Movement] during the 1973 siege of Wounded Knee, and, with by then President Ronald Reagan’s appointment of Giufrida as founding director of the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA) in 1982, in a refined form, fully incorporated into the structure of repression on a fully national basis.


… The purpose of the whole operation is to develop a coherent doctrine for the physical repression of political dissent, and to train personnel in its application. Garden Plot and Cable Splicer were officially (if secretly) commissioned plans to utilize the entire apparatus of state repression - the military, national guard, police and intelligence forces, as well as “private” organizations - in a coordinated manner to put down “civil disorders” within the U.S.

Ward Churchill, The COINTELPRO Papers: documents from the FBI’s secret wars against dissent

(Source: cuntymint, via cuntymint)

musicexhibition:

Dum Dum Girls - Coming Down

You abuse the ones who love you
You abuse the ones who won’t
If you ever had a real heart
I don’t think you’d know where to start

Cover my head into the clouds I’m going home


When letting me go and I can’t find a way to stop


You’re just a chance I take to keep on dreaming


You’re just another day that keeps me breathing

(Source: amnessy)

(Source: speedheeart)

(Source: brandedforlife)

divein-feetfirst:

solange - some things never seem to fucking work

so maybe then we’re better off
well maybe if that’s all you wanted
leave me alone

groovesnjams:

Child’s Play" by SZA ft. Chance the Rapper

MG:

I have a documented history of prickling at rap verses tacked onto R&B tracks, but I’ll be damned if “Child’s Play” isn’t the most beautiful song to ever make me look like a hater. SZA’s the song’s revelation, almost tearfully tender singing video game metaphors over a languid beat that calls to mind the swaying palm trees and rippling breezes of her label’s home state. It’s keeping a different time, the infinitely slow seconds that pass in heartbreak. Her quiet questions, “When do I begin? When do we begin?” segue into Chance’s verse and he’s the song’s revelation. As is his wont, every word holds at least three meanings and he turns your brain into a Rubik’s cube, constantly twisting text, context, and meaning until the puzzle is solved. A bar like “Only I know a pawn is a trade/ And a rookie for a castle like tuition for a final/ Playing hooky for a tassle, spend a minute on the minor” is aching with poetry and seconds later it’s swallowed by Chance’s villainous “Y’arr see,” the swell of its contusion pricked with the pin of humor. The two are an interlocking fit and nothing suggests this more than the overlap in their halves. At first listen, Chance is callously drowning SZA out, but with each successive listen it’s clear they’re sharing a thought. I am only too happy to stand corrected; “Child’s Play” is incredible.

DV:

I have a documented history of wanting someone, anyone, to fill the male/female duet void left by a general focus on guest verses that can be dropped into or plucked out of a song with ease. And while there have been a few solid contenders in recent memory, “Child’s Play” is the best yet. It’s still not quite what I’m craving - as MG notes, SZA and Chance are working the same emotional vibe here, almost echoing each other. I want a duet that’s a conversation, not a monologue in two parts: I want singers who discuss, who debate, who argue, and “Child’s Play” is too subdued for that.

Yet the chemistry between SZA and Chance is enough to give the song a charge regardless. The latter’s dry, shifting style proves an ideal match for the former’s smooth, gauzy vocal, and the song feels climactic as soon as their voices join on the final chorus - the sort of feeling that usually requires the production to make a major push for emotional connection, but here only needs the two of them to sing together. Can we please get a You’re All I Need style release from them sometime soon? 

Cause I’ve been acting like sour milk all on the floor
It’s your fault you didn’t shut the refrigerator
Maybe that’s the reason I’ve been acting so cold?

don’t judge me ya bunch of assholes!

(Source: afraiddave)

cuntymint:


“They [11 September 2001 hijackers] were targeting those people I refer to as ‘little Eichmanns’ who were making the world economic system hum to the service of the United States. The upper floors of those buildings were occupied by [Cantor Fitzgerald], the bond-trading firm. It took out one-third of its overall personel. These people had 20-30 years invested at being the most competent people in the world.

[“How about if they set off a pipe bomb south of 14th street {as an alternative to hijacking planes and flying them into the World Trade Center towers}?”]

How about we make all those starving babies symbolic? Then we can respond symbolically. OK?

That’s American exceptionalism: You impose real terms and real suffering on people and you want symbolic responses exclusively. The action was correct given the circumstances created here; both by the elites who inflict the pain and the by the purported opposition who really do nothing tangibly to end it.  Except in the process of its ritual form [of failing to end terrorism] separate itself in it’s own mind from those who comprise the elites and feel better about themselves. Well, that’s taking people who are beneficiaries of the holocaustal process and making them even more comfortable within their own terms—terms they devise for themselves.  I’m not sure if they’re entitled to that comfort.

But that’s kind of what I meant about, ‘Hey, let’s feel good and have a party—after we win’. And we’re not going to win by symbolic exercise.”

— Ward Churchill.

cuntymint:

“They [11 September 2001 hijackers] were targeting those people I refer to as ‘little Eichmanns’ who were making the world economic system hum to the service of the United States. The upper floors of those buildings were occupied by [Cantor Fitzgerald], the bond-trading firm. It took out one-third of its overall personel. These people had 20-30 years invested at being the most competent people in the world.

[“How about if they set off a pipe bomb south of 14th street {as an alternative to hijacking planes and flying them into the World Trade Center towers}?”]

How about we make all those starving babies symbolic? Then we can respond symbolically. OK?

That’s American exceptionalism: You impose real terms and real suffering on people and you want symbolic responses exclusively. The action was correct given the circumstances created here; both by the elites who inflict the pain and the by the purported opposition who really do nothing tangibly to end it. Except in the process of its ritual form [of failing to end terrorism] separate itself in it’s own mind from those who comprise the elites and feel better about themselves. Well, that’s taking people who are beneficiaries of the holocaustal process and making them even more comfortable within their own terms—terms they devise for themselves. I’m not sure if they’re entitled to that comfort.

But that’s kind of what I meant about, ‘Hey, let’s feel good and have a party—after we win’. And we’re not going to win by symbolic exercise.”

— Ward Churchill.

cuntymint:

Nellie Mckay // Waiter

the scuds drop down like butterflies
they’re loved and round and very wise
they’re just like you and me as they tend
their incandescent need for a friend

where are they now?
where are they headed?
do they see the little ones?
and do they flee?
or do they run?

and do they feel proud, as they are embedded?
do they ask or do they tell?
to mask the fact they’re going to hell