Angela Rose (American/Believer)

Founder of Black T-Shirt Campaign.

Check out my anti labor-trafficking project's blog: blacktshirtcampaign.tumblr.com

03
hipsterlibertarian:

In July I shared a story of an incident in which my city’s police stormed a man’s house looking for drugs in the middle of the night and executed his two (understandably startled) dogs. One of the dogs was shot to death while fleeing in fear, and as I noted then, this isn’t an isolated incident. Just a few years ago, the Saint Paul Police killed another family dog…and forced handcuffed children to sit next to its bleeding corpse. The kicker? The raid wasn’t even in the right house!
Now, a new report has surfaced of SPPD brutality. This time, a young father named Chris Lollie was arrested while waiting to pick up his kids from school. The charges were “Trespassing, Disorderly Conduct, and Obstructing Legal Process,” and police claimed he refused to leave an area reserved for employees of the bank building he was in. However, not only were there no signs indicating that the location was private, but Lollie wasn’t even in the bank proper; he was in the skyway.
(For those who aren’t familiar with the skyway system, it’s a thing we have in St. Paul, Minneapolis, and some other Minnesota cities. Basically, it gets hella cold here in the winter, so they built enclosed sidewalks, or skyways, one or two stories up. In the downtown areas, the skyways form a whole second network of pedestrian roads, and once you get inside your office building—or whichever building is closest to your parking garage or bus stop or whatever—you can use them to move from building to building to get around the whole downtown area. It’s an easy way to go to lunch or meetings without having the snot in your nostrils freeze. I mention all that to say: Skyways are public spaces. You do not have to be an employee in the buildings they connect to use them. Lollie was not trespassing.)
Fortunately, Lollie had the presence of mind to capture his interaction with the SPPD on film. Here’s a transcript I’ve made of the first few seconds:

Lollie: So what’s your business with me right now?
Officer: I want to find out who you are, and what the problem was back there…
Lollie: There is no problem—that’s the thing.
Officer: So, talk to me, let me know, and you can be on your way.
Lollie: Let you know…why do I have to let you know who I am? Who I am isn’t the problem.
Officer: Because that’s what police do when they get called.
Lollie: Well, I know my rights, first off. Secondly, I don’t have to let you know who I am if I haven’t broken any laws. Like I told him, I’m going to New Horizons [School] to pick up my kids at 10 o’clock. I was sitting there for ten minutes…

As the officer brushes aside his explanation and continues to illegally demand he identify himself, Lollie cuts to the chase: “The problem is I’m black. That’s the problem. No, it really is, because I didn’t do anything wrong.”
Next, Lollie and the female officer he’s been walking and talking with meet a male officer. When Lollie politely asks the officer not to touch or obstruct him, because he has to go get his kids, the man immediately responds, “Well, you’re going to go to jail then.”
As the police initiate the arrest process—telling him to put his hand behind his back or “otherwise things are going to get ugly"—the camera visuals go black. Lollie continues to be heard pleading, still polite even while he’s assaulted, that he be allowed to go meet his children.
Next, they tase him.
If that’s not enough to convince you that this is gross police misconduct, seriously, take five minutes and watch the video. The calmness of his tone alone should make it obvious that there is no possible argument that the situation merited this kind of police action:

After multiple witnesses verified Lollie’s version of events, prosecutors dropped all charges against him. One woman who is also not an employee at the bank the skyway links noted that she regularly sits during her lunch break exactly where Lollie was sitting, but she has never been harassed by police. However, the SPPD continue to defend their actions.
At The Atlantic, Conor Friedersdorf points out how simple it would have been for police to resolve this situation without violence and an arrest had they cared to do so:

His story about getting his kids wasn’t merely plausible, given the man’s age and the fact that there was a school right there–it was a story the female police officer shown at the beginning of the video or the male officer shown later could easily confirm. 
Lollie is also absolutely correct that no law required him to show an ID to police officers. As Flex Your Rights explains, “Police can never compel you to identify yourself without reasonable suspicion to believe you’re involved in illegal activity,” and while 24 states have passed “stop and identify” statutes “requiring citizens to reveal their identity when officers have reasonable suspicion to believe criminal activity may be taking place,” Minnesota isn’t one of those states.

The female officer shown in the beginning of the video could easily have de-escalated the encounter by saying, “You’re right, sir, you have every right to refuse to show me identification, and if you’re just picking up your kids I’m so sorry to have bothered you. If you don’t mind, I just want to walk with you to confirm that your story checks out so I can inform the 911 caller of their error. That way we can make sure this never happens again when you’re just here to pick up your kids.”
Or she could’ve said, “Sir, I totally see why this is confusing–a lot of people would think so. Let me try to explain. That totally looks like a public seating area, but it’s actually private. Don’t you think they should have a sign saying so? Calling me may seem like an overreaction, but technically they can ask you to leave. You’re walking away now, so there’s actually no problem as long as you’re not going to go back. Are you? Okay, then we have no problem, have a wonderful day.”  

As Lollie is carried away post-tasing, he can be heard challenging the officers’ “legal” assault: "Who are you? You don’t rule me. I didn’t do anything wrong. I didn’t hurt anybody. I didn’t touch anybody." 
If only the SPPD could honestly say the same.

hipsterlibertarian:

In July I shared a story of an incident in which my city’s police stormed a man’s house looking for drugs in the middle of the night and executed his two (understandably startled) dogs. One of the dogs was shot to death while fleeing in fear, and as I noted then, this isn’t an isolated incident. Just a few years ago, the Saint Paul Police killed another family dog…and forced handcuffed children to sit next to its bleeding corpse. The kicker? The raid wasn’t even in the right house!

Now, a new report has surfaced of SPPD brutality. This time, a young father named Chris Lollie was arrested while waiting to pick up his kids from school. The charges wereTrespassing, Disorderly Conduct, and Obstructing Legal Process,” and police claimed he refused to leave an area reserved for employees of the bank building he was in. However, not only were there no signs indicating that the location was private, but Lollie wasn’t even in the bank proper; he was in the skyway.

(For those who aren’t familiar with the skyway system, it’s a thing we have in St. Paul, Minneapolis, and some other Minnesota cities. Basically, it gets hella cold here in the winter, so they built enclosed sidewalks, or skyways, one or two stories up. In the downtown areas, the skyways form a whole second network of pedestrian roads, and once you get inside your office building—or whichever building is closest to your parking garage or bus stop or whatever—you can use them to move from building to building to get around the whole downtown area. It’s an easy way to go to lunch or meetings without having the snot in your nostrils freeze. I mention all that to say: Skyways are public spaces. You do not have to be an employee in the buildings they connect to use them. Lollie was not trespassing.)

Fortunately, Lollie had the presence of mind to capture his interaction with the SPPD on film. Here’s a transcript I’ve made of the first few seconds:

Lollie: So what’s your business with me right now?

Officer: I want to find out who you are, and what the problem was back there…

Lollie: There is no problem—that’s the thing.

Officer: So, talk to me, let me know, and you can be on your way.

Lollie: Let you know…why do I have to let you know who I am? Who I am isn’t the problem.

Officer: Because that’s what police do when they get called.

Lollie: Well, I know my rights, first off. Secondly, I don’t have to let you know who I am if I haven’t broken any laws. Like I told him, I’m going to New Horizons [School] to pick up my kids at 10 o’clock. I was sitting there for ten minutes…

As the officer brushes aside his explanation and continues to illegally demand he identify himself, Lollie cuts to the chase: “The problem is I’m black. That’s the problem. No, it really is, because I didn’t do anything wrong.”

Next, Lollie and the female officer he’s been walking and talking with meet a male officer. When Lollie politely asks the officer not to touch or obstruct him, because he has to go get his kids, the man immediately responds, “Well, you’re going to go to jail then.”

As the police initiate the arrest process—telling him to put his hand behind his back or “otherwise things are going to get ugly"—the camera visuals go black. Lollie continues to be heard pleading, still polite even while he’s assaulted, that he be allowed to go meet his children.

Next, they tase him.

If that’s not enough to convince you that this is gross police misconduct, seriously, take five minutes and watch the video. The calmness of his tone alone should make it obvious that there is no possible argument that the situation merited this kind of police action:

After multiple witnesses verified Lollie’s version of events, prosecutors dropped all charges against him. One woman who is also not an employee at the bank the skyway links noted that she regularly sits during her lunch break exactly where Lollie was sitting, but she has never been harassed by police. However, the SPPD continue to defend their actions.

At The Atlantic, Conor Friedersdorf points out how simple it would have been for police to resolve this situation without violence and an arrest had they cared to do so:

His story about getting his kids wasn’t merely plausible, given the man’s age and the fact that there was a school right there–it was a story the female police officer shown at the beginning of the video or the male officer shown later could easily confirm. 

Lollie is also absolutely correct that no law required him to show an ID to police officers. As Flex Your Rights explains, “Police can never compel you to identify yourself without reasonable suspicion to believe you’re involved in illegal activity,” and while 24 states have passed “stop and identify” statutes “requiring citizens to reveal their identity when officers have reasonable suspicion to believe criminal activity may be taking place,” Minnesota isn’t one of those states.

The female officer shown in the beginning of the video could easily have de-escalated the encounter by saying, “You’re right, sir, you have every right to refuse to show me identification, and if you’re just picking up your kids I’m so sorry to have bothered you. If you don’t mind, I just want to walk with you to confirm that your story checks out so I can inform the 911 caller of their error. That way we can make sure this never happens again when you’re just here to pick up your kids.”

Or she could’ve said, “Sir, I totally see why this is confusing–a lot of people would think so. Let me try to explain. That totally looks like a public seating area, but it’s actually private. Don’t you think they should have a sign saying so? Calling me may seem like an overreaction, but technically they can ask you to leave. You’re walking away now, so there’s actually no problem as long as you’re not going to go back. Are you? Okay, then we have no problem, have a wonderful day.”  

As Lollie is carried away post-tasing, he can be heard challenging the officers’ “legal” assault: "Who are you? You don’t rule me. I didn’t do anything wrong. I didn’t hurt anybody. I didn’t touch anybody."

If only the SPPD could honestly say the same.


flibbertyjibett:

christiangaleofficial:

Did it all get real, I guess it’s real enough
They got refrigerators full of blood
Another century spent pointing guns 
At anything that moves
Sometimes I worry that I’ve lost the plot
My twitching muscles tease my flippant thoughts
I never really dreamed of heaven much 
Until we put him in the ground
But it’s all I’m doing now
Listening for patterns in the sound
Of an endless static sea
But once the satellite’s deceased
It blows like garbage through the streets
Of the night sky to infinity
But don’t you weep (don’t you weep for them)
There is nothing as lucky
Don’t you weep
There is nothing as lucky, as easy, or free

Don’t be a criminal in this police state
You better shop and eat and procreate
You got vacation days then you might escape
To a condo on the coast
I set my watch to the atomic clock
I hear the crowd count down ‘til the bomb gets dropped
I always figured that there’d be time enough
I never let it get me down
But I can’t help it now
Looking for faces in the clouds
I got some friends I barely see
But we’re all planning to meet
We’ll lay in bags as dead as leaves
All together for eternity
But don’t you weep
There is no one as lucky
Honey, don’t you weep
There is nothing as lucky, as easy, or free
You’re right Christian I do love it.

WAIT I HAVE BEEN LISTENING TO THIS SONG A LOT LATELY I WAS JUST THINKING TODAY ABOUT HOW THIS SONG IS KEEPING ME SANE IS THIS ALL A COINCIDENCE OR ARE WE ALL THE SAME PERSON


Tldr

Five days into my trial-run life change, and so far i have watched 6+ hours of slam poetry on youtube, discovered Carrie Rudzinski, attended one open-mic night, obtained a library card, checked out 4 memoirs and one biography from the library with said new card ( titles: A Girl’s Guide to Being Homeless, Chanel Bonfire, Jesus: the Human Face of God, Her, and Happy,) and swallowed one book whole.

The first book I read, HER, is the memoir of a woman post-overdose-death of her identical twin. Following the author’s journey through domestic abuse and statutory rape as a child, through her sister’s brutal and too intimately graphic rape, through her sister’s unraveling into death, and then through anorexia, failed suicide attempts, stays in mental hospitals, infidelity, divorce, promiscuity, healing, marriage, and motherhood, i guess i was looking for some spark of truth or insight or re-telling of the story into a new world of wholeness and wisdom… But in the end, her healing reads as selfish and the loves she finds seems equally so. The twin sisters were both written as unwitting narcissists, and it felt to me like the author’s ultimate act of narcissism was the book itself- to romanticize and parade her twin’s demise for the world to devour as ‘tragically beautiful.’

Sitting outside the library after hours, i am surprised by how many cars continue to drive up to the building, park their cars, and walk all the way to the door before realizing that the library is closed. Do they not know what day it is? Do they not have internet to google the hours? Do they not see that the lights are off and the parking lot is empty?

Something Albert Einstein said keeps ringing around in my head. “If you cannot explain it in words simple enough that a kindergartener could understand it, you do not understand it yourself.”

I am reminded again and again how little i understand. Most of the love i see around me, like the author of Her, seems selfish, impulsive, and shallow. Like people loving their own reflections in other people. I am not sure that I believe in the idea of falling in love, at all. I cant picture myself ever falling in love again, i cant imagine ever trusting another person that much. Falling in love, to me, seems more and more similar to swallowing Religion, whole. Like an enticing, complex half-truth that would make life so much easier. I can’t count how many times people ask me: if the Bible is not the inerrant word of God, how do you know what is right and wrong?

Every time, i am incredulous: the fact that i do not know for sure the yesses and the no’s, the fact that i cant answer all of the whys and the hows… Those are realities that i live with and hate! I cant believe in something just because it would be safer and easier, not The Bible or Falling In Love.

I am sick of not knowing anything. I realize more and more that as soon as my life falls quiet, i begin to panic. I must always be walking towards some Greater Good, and when i pause for a rest and my days go silent, all of my unanswered questions, and fears, and resentments, and injustices come bubbling upward into my conscious and sometimes out of my mouth.

I think a lot about mental health issues: i do not believe there is anything inherently unhealthy about living life in anxiety, anger, fear, and sorrow. That is, all too often, reality. Medicating reality is being an ostrich.

I am Angela Gale. I start to drown when asked to tread water. I am, at my deepest parts, an uncomfortable, wary person. I have been for a long time. I am strong and I have not stopped moving forward. I am trying to untangle myself from my selfishnesses and my bad habits and my pet cowardices.


cagetheelephantofficial:

You sigh, look away / I can see it clear as day
#CigaretteDaydreams

that is his real wife and i cannot wait to watch this video that is all goodbye

cagetheelephantofficial:

You sigh, look away / I can see it clear as day

#CigaretteDaydreams

that is his real wife and i cannot wait to watch this video that is all goodbye

(via holyshultz)


❝My God, my God:
I am a stupid, selfish prayer
Your voice has begun to sound like my voice,
And I haven’t yet learned to silence my own fears.❞

My God, my God: I am a stupid, selfish prayer.
Your voice has begun to sound like my voice,
And I haven’t yet learned to silence my own fears.

My God, my prayers have become languages I am afraid to speak:
At night, my chest unfurls grief until I don’t know what it looks like,
Until I am a flock of bandaged plums,
Until there is so much doubt in me.

My God, I listen to others defile your name and I do not tell them I love you.
My God, so many strange gods have come before me and kissed the soles of my feet,
I built them altars until each promised they do not love me.

My God, my God, I dreamt you were dead.
THere are cities that smell like you,
Men in airports who have stolen your shoulders,
Nights you come to me, half-dressed, in my own desires.
My God, for months I felt like dirty sheets you slept in with someone else.

My god, I can’t apologize for what I am so grateful for.
For what you most despise, you spiteful boy.
You ignorant desire: Wealth is a funny thing.
It doesn’t matter how it’s earned, once you have it no one believes you deserve it.
You’ll become the most expensive piece of furniture in the room and no one wants to touch you.

My God, I have never seen you so ugly as when I am awake:
Brittle twist of girl, with no face, just tiny fingers, hooked down my throat, vomiting your hate like a sick cat wilting on the carpet.

My God, i have eaten my reflection so many times and I am still hungry.

My God, I have been called ‘sir’ enough times to my face to understand that i do not see myself as beautiful
my god, i abused my own demons until they peeled the flesh my from my eyelids
My God, I am waiting for a faithful man
My god, I listen to you cry at night: your body is broken, but not hopeless
“Please, drink me in. I promise am not empty yet.”
My god, my god, my secrets have begun to lie to themselves -
I should never have promised so many beautiful things.

My father tells me he is so happy with his life, he is content to die tomorrow.
Oh, to love another person to so much you could bludgeon your own darkness.
My god, I will not apologize for the absence of my own strength
I will forgive myself
i forgive myself
i forgive myself
my god
i have been my own god
forgive me.”

(——

Carrie Rudzinski’s “The Prayer.”

I want everyone I’ve ever loved to read this and love it. sorry for all the typos i can’t be bothered to fix, i need to watch it 7 more times while in euphoria

)

When I originally joined tumblr, I was still in high school and going through a difficult part of my life - I had close friends, but I was having trouble talking with any of them about what I was dealing with at home and how it was making me feel. My first URL was WordsHaveHands, and the whole goal of blogging was to teach me to use my words to reach out and to build myself up - to become more comfortable talking about what I was feeling and what I believe in. That was three years ago, and I’ve been a tumblr devotee ever since. 

Over the years I grew to follow an arsenal of inspiring and educating individuals who helped me recognize who I want to be and identify my own voice. I received a letter from Alec/LikeAFieldMouse, I joined an anti-suicide movement… I met my first official boyfriend on tumblr. Sharnie, whom I met via tumblr, remains one of my very closest friends… Jacob, who is no longer on tumblr, just moved to my state and I’m looking forward to meeting him in person sometime soon! These are all people that truly changed my life and shaped me as a person.

Tumblr has been a life scrap-book for me, and my blogs are probably more important to me than almost anyone understands, because for me, they are the story of my life and my struggles and my growth. They are the first evidences of me embracing myself and rising to the occasion. 

But ultimately, I feel like they have served their purposes. I know who I am now, and how to say what I want to say. I’m not fully persuaded yet, but I’m going to trial-run a change: I’m only going to get on Tumblr once a month and Facebook once a week. The exception is that I will be checking the personal blogs of my close friends… but don’t expect to see much of me!

I want to spend my time moving onto the next things: I want to read a lot more non-fiction, and get more involved in slam poetry culture. I’ll see you all around! 


angrymuslimah:

"Gulabi Gang" is a gang of women in India who track down and beat abusive husbands with brooms.

reflagged twice for extra power

angrymuslimah:

"Gulabi Gang" is a gang of women in India who track down and beat abusive husbands with brooms.

reflagged twice for extra power

(via betweentheglossandreality)


angrymuslimah:

"Gulabi Gang" is a gang of women in India who track down and beat abusive husbands with brooms.

angrymuslimah:

"Gulabi Gang" is a gang of women in India who track down and beat abusive husbands with brooms.

(via betweentheglossandreality)



betweentheglossandreality:

This is literally me with all my friends lol… Im not even sorry

(Source: bellblake)


I think the saddest people always try their hardest to make people happy

because they know what it’s like to feel absolutely worthless

and they don’t want anyone else to feel like that.

(——

Robin Williams  (via kiddings)

oh my gosh this is disrespectful…

is there ANY record of Robin Williams saying this? I can’t find one.

Exploiting a suicide for notes is embarrassing and disgraceful.

(Source: skateeofmind, via glitterycondom)

)

scottish:

i hate it when u stop being friends w someone or u break up w someone cos uve got all this information about them like at the back of ur mind like their birthday or their favorite game or whatever, and even years later things will come up and you’ll think about that person and its like. oh. and it never really Stops

(via glitterycondom)


How to give proper credit to artists without knowing who they are

I appreciate reblogging the shit out of this if anybody wouldn’t mind.

Sick of art going around and artists not getting proper credit at all.

(via credittheartist)