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Comrade Anklebiter wrote:
Also...half-dozen chapters to go in The Whispering Swarm. Hope to finish it today.
To quote from a Facebook post earlier today:
"Coming in on the end. Enjoying it quite a bit. Was a bit worried, for the past couple of chapters Moorcock has teamed up with Prince Rupert of the Rhine, Claude Duval and the Three Musketeers to rescue Charles Stuart from Cromwell's headsmen. Happily, though,
"Remember the fate of Charles I!"
Later surprise twist reading revealed that the traitor was...well, the traitor was pretty easily guessable, but what wasn't really guessable was that the traitor turned out to be
Was re-reading The New Jim Crow where she points out that, like everything else in America, drug crimes are rather segregated. Blacks sell to blacks and whites sell to whites. I know I usually get mine off of fellow ofays.
Anyway, commie article:
Baltimore: Racist Cop Terror and Capitalist Decay
Yeah, DuBois was a soft red. I've still got to read Black Reconstruction one of these days.
The leftie book club has decided to speed through the rest of The New Jim Crow (I think everyone in the group has already read it). We were taking suggestions for the next one and I was surprised how many people didn't get it and suggested novels.
Best recommendations thus far were James Baldwin, Notes of a Native Son and bell hooks, Ain't I a Woman?: Black Women and Feminism. Already read the latter, but wouldn't mind reading it with a group.
We're working on it.
After I took back being adamant about not moving to New York, she agreed to consider thinking about not being adamant above not leaving New York.
Anyway, she went back to her expensive, non-insurance covered behavioral therapy to learn how to deal with her anger management and other emotional outbursts, so, you know, she's trying.
Growing a grass-roots anti-racist group and having an emotionally unstable long distance girlfriend reallys takes away from your reading time, lemme tell you, but I am happy to report that Mr. Comrade and the Nigerian Princess have moved on from flirting over Patrick Rothfuss to flirting over Michael Moorcock. Mr. Comrade got her to read her first Elric novel; she loved it.
She's wicked into intersectionality so it was only a matter of time before the subject of black sci-fi/fantasy authors came up. I got to look pretty f!#~ing cool when I introduced them to Samuel R. Delany. (Thanks, Lord Dice!)
I've been meaning to get in touch, Comrade Curtin. My car should (I stress should) be roadworthy soon and, then, yes, I would like to come down and, vulture-like, take all of your books.
Then I will roll around in them, naked, dreaming of singularities and broadswords...
[Rest of the post redacted for common decency]
Did indeed read a great big chunk of The Whispering Swarm on the ride down to Brooklyn. I can see how the undevoted might not care, but I'm loving this shiznit. Whole bunch of name-dropping that would thrill readers of this thread ("I went to lunch with John Wyndham and Alfred Bester and we talked about Fritz Leiber..." runs a part that I just made up) mixed in with a good dose of class war (at one point he and his fictional girlfriend/muse hold up a train full of executive wage packets to give to the union so that their families won't go hungry during a strike). Had to put it down when I got to the part (autobiographical, I'm guessing) about his inability to console his clinically depressed first wife, which hit a little too close to home as La Principessa went from exultation that I was coming down a day early to sobbing depression to barely suppressed irritability within the course of three phone calls over the span of three hours. [Sigh]
Anyway, mixed it up with a book by dissident Marcyites called China: Revolution and Counterrevolution which is much too soft on Chairman Mao but, at the same time, makes me incredibly jealous because at least they're not running around saying the PRC is "state capitalist". [Shakes fist]
Anyway, I think this is the first time I've been left in La Principessa's apartment while she's at work when there hasn't been snow on the ground, so I'm thinking of going out to a park and drinking some cider and reading some more Moorcock. Hopefully, I won't get Broken Window-ed.
Back to CAJE:
The night before, we met at the anarcho-syndicalist hipster's house to make signs. It was me, Mr. Comrade, the anarcho-syndicalist hipster, an "anarcho-Zionist d#~%" professor, a Lebanese-American working class woman who might be to the left of me and is always inebriated, and a young high school teacher who has just been politicized. The latter was talking with Mr. Comrade about class and workers, etc., when all of a sudden he says, "So, wait a minute. Let's say I'm a worker and I make $20 an hour but the boss makes $100. Doesn't that mean the boss stole $80 from me?" Everyone started laughing and he blushed. "What?" "No, no, it's okay," said Mr. Comrade, "You just figured out the labor theory of value all on your own!"
On the way to the rally, it was me, Mr. Comrade, Lowell carpenter dude, and a different high school teacher in the car. "You know," she says, "Labor has never really been on my radar before" (she has a history in LGBT activism) "but the more I think of it, the more important it seems. And I was thinking, you know what we should really do? We should form one international workers union."
I love my front group!
Vod Canockers wrote:
Arcane Marxist shiznit: Not that it's really pertinent to this thread, but, for the record, the standard commie line is that cops aren't workers, they are agents of the state. Therefore, police unions aren't workers organizations but, rather, professional associations of agents of the state.
I don't call on them to do anything. I agree with the points you raise in your parenthetical paragraph, as my previous posts indicate.
It's unfortunate that the unions spend so much time and money protecting bad members.
In my experience, they spend a lot of time, but not so much money. I mean, the disciplinary meetings are on the employer's dime, not ours. [Details may vary from shop to shop]
I'm sorry to hear that, son. Your mother was an extraordinary woman.
"Rev. King knew the risks. In fact, after the Jan. 30, 1956, bombing of his home in Montgomery, he applied at the sheriff’s office for a permit to carry a concealed weapon. He was denied the permit, but this did not stop him from having firearms in his house."
I don't see how this is getting history wrong. Yes, he doesn't go on to say that MLK later got rid of his guns, (according to another article I just skimmed, it was the influence of Bayard Rustin that got him to give up his guns, not a heart-to-heart with Coretta, but that's besides the point), but that's not really germane to his argument.
Played some D&D last night, though. I dug out The Mad Hermit and played a solo bit where I saved a farmer's wife from marauding goblins, went to a druid's convention in the Big City, and made friends with some starving kobolds, while waiting to hear from The River.
The other two players got killed by dire rats in the Catacombs of the Black Vatican and have to make new characters before the party's even come together. My players still suck!
Thank you for the update, Citizen Lou.
Went to my Tattoo Artist Former Player and wife's house last night with The Black Goblin and his Pregnant Dreadlocked Libertarian Ex-Welder Girlfriend.
Tattoo Artist presented me with a sheaf of papers, about as thick as a volume of Capital documenting eight years of D&D campaign paperwork--character sheets, maps, inventory lists--and his drawings. He's a pretty talented dude, and I should make some effort to scan them on to the internet, but, anyway, it was amazing and led, inevitably, to talk of putting the band back together...
We're hoping next week and, best of all, I don't have to Dungeon Master!
More labor reporting from Comrade Omar:
GREENFIELD, MA-- On April 1, the members of UE Local 274 ratified a two year contract with Kennametal (formerly Greenfield Tap & Die) that included substantial wage increases and no concessions.
Five years ago, the Kennametal workers fought for nine months without a contract in an attempt to prevent the company from adding tiered wages and personal/sick time for new employees, among other concessions demanded by the company. Eventually the tiers were reluctantly agreed to. Last year, Kennametal closed an operation in Vermont and moved the work to the Greenfield plant, doubling the workforce there. Of course this now meant half the workforce was on the lower tier, and that when the contract came up for negotiations in March, eliminating the tier would be the top priority.
Both top and bottom tier employees unanimously agreed prior to negotiations that elimination of the tiers was the number one bargaining priority. Unfortunately, the excise tax of the Affordable Care Act (ACA/"Obamacare") threw a monkey wrench into those plans. The company already wanted to force workers into its company-wide high deductible health plan known as Flex, the terms of which they would not bargain with the union, nor guarantee the plan would not significantly change during the term of the life of the contract. Besides that the current health plan for Greenfield union employees would exceed the cap when the tax goes into effect in 2018, triggering the 40% "Cadillac" excise tax.
Since the union made clear they would not agree to the "Flex plan," nor would they agree for the members to incur all costs of an excise tax on the current plan, the company, wanting to avoid a showdown on these issues, suggested a two year contract. While this would avoid a big battle over health insurance it would also prevent the union from being able to close the gap in the wage tiers over the life of the contract, especially after the company insisted from day one they would NOT eliminate the tiers under any circumstance.
Instead the union committee, which consisted of all top tier employees except for one member, concentrated on getting large wage increases for the bottom tier in this contract. Assisted by membership activity, the committee was able to negotiate a 4.5% general wage increase for bottom tier workers in each year and a 2.75% lump sum in each year for the top tier-- closing an over 12.5% gap to within only 3.5% in only two years, hopefully making the job of closing the gap entirely in the next contract much more manageable.
In addition to the wage increases, employees kept their present health insurance plan without design changes, and only modest increases to the payroll contributions. Sickness and Accident benefits also increased, and the union and company negotiated the terms of a new weekend shift to help the company get caught up on its backorders in a way that was also beneficial to UE members.
The bargaining committee consisted of [redacted redacted]
I'm glad to hear it. Me and La Principessa are back together again, too.
Comrade Anklebiter wrote:
That's my girl!
Also, it tickled something in my THC-addled memory. Hold on a second...
And all my comrades are talking about Yemen, but I have yet to see any articles.
Weather forecast looks likes it's going to snow tomorrow, which would make moving The Black Goblin's Pregnant Libertarian Dreadlocked Girlfriend difficult. Maybe I can squeeze out another day in Brooklyn?
I already helped The Black Goblin move his new gun safes into the Free NH Goblin Resistance Hideout, soon to be renamed something more domestic. Gun safes, it turns out, like everything else have brand names. One was dubbed "Revolution" and the other was "The Ammo Can."
"What is that?" I quipped in between exertions, "The title of the biopic they're gonna make about your life?"
[Hollywood trailer narrator voice]
"He was an anarcho-syndicalist Teamster, she was a Ron Paul-voting welder; together their love was going to overthrow the government! Coming this April to a theater near you, Revolution and the Ammo Can!
Older one making the rounds due to the impending Scott Walker visit to my fair state:
Fave lines: "IF THE popularity of Fifty Shades reveals anything, it's the deep hunger for depictions--any depictions--of female sexual pleasure outside of the framework of porn aimed at straight men. Given the Motion Picture Association of America's puritanical standards on nudity and sex, and particularly on images of women enjoying sex, the film gets away with quite a lot. It's occasionally funny, and once or twice, it's even clever."
Struck shop was right around the corner from La Principessa's school. Had a nice time familiarizing myself with New York's labor activists, then marched through Brooklyn, called La Principessa and she ran outside to hold hands and take pictures. God, I love that woman.
Hung out with a young machinist comrade from Pittsburgh who was disgusted. "This is what they call a labor action?!? They pretend to picket and then the cops pretend to break the strike?!? Where are the mass pickets lines that no one dare cross?!?" God, I love that man.
Afterwards we all chatted and then La Principessa went back to work and we went to a Dunkin Donuts. While there, I receive the following text:
"Hey. Thanks for getting me today. Can we talk later? I'm kind of uncomfortable with you calling me 'baby' in front of other people."
I text back, "Can we skip the talk and just get to the part where I apologize for infantilizing you?" and make a mental note to complain about it on Paizo.com.
[Shakes head in exasperation]
Last couple of days have been pretty harsh as La Principessa alternately rages and cries about her freeloading alcoholic previously undocumented Northern Irishman estranged husband and his unwillingness to pay his fair share of the taxes. As Comrade Omar once told me, "You gotta get rid of this clown; if anyone should be mooching off of her, it oughtta be you!" Comrade Omar, of course, is an incurable romantic.
Anyway, I was bored earlier today, waiting for her in-between class phone calls and wandered through the Gay Gamers thread, which I haven't visited in a while. While there, found an interesting article with an interesting inset. Wondered how I'd do, so, lessee:
1) Check, although it was only this morning that she told me that you're supposed to take out the teabag prior to serving. Apparently, she's been swallowing a lot of bitter tear for love, but ironically, she hasn't once made me a cup of coffee. Also, instant coffee with almond milk and honey is terrible.
2) That's what I use Facebook for. I've also found that copying out Petrarchan sonnets with "Laura" crossed out and replaced with "Francesca" will work in a pinch. Other details sometimes have t be altered. For example, she's never worked as a shepherdess.
3) Being sartorially challenged myself, I need to work on this one. Although I often tell her how much I like seeing her in boots...and nothing else.
4) I tag along when she walks the dog. Nothing says romance like "Penny, do business!"
5) Hug, kiss, fondle, fornicate. Check.
6) She doesn't have a dishwasher. But I do at least 75% of the dishes.
7) I'm broke. Although we did go see Mockingjay together. It kinda blew.
8) We're both not terribly good cooks, but today I chopped the onions for the chicken tacos and the other day I had to visit three bodegas to find tomato paste. Why are there so many poorly stocked bodegas in Brooklyn?
9) Yeah, no. She's thirty-eight and was trapped in a sexless marriage for years. I can't even touch her shoulders without her wanting to do it.
10) Her car wash is on strike. Also, I'm terrified of driving in NYC.
11) She thinks manicures, spas, etc. are "bourgie."
12) Fifty times a day at least.
Gonna have to find another list.
Doodlebug, I really have to wonder... are there any walls in your house, are they all just bookshelves?
I had been telling my hawt commie NYC schoolteacher girlfriend that she should start filling the available wallspace in her apartment with shelves now. When she came up to visit, she looked at the books in my room and said, "Yeah, I don't think all of these are going to fit." When she asked why I was making such a hangdog face, I replied "I've also got 14 boxes stashed in various attics across New England."
I didn't even bother showing her my record collection.
Not Spoilered For Disgusting Goblin Sexiness
I have been privy to a few conversations between female comrades (mostly Mrs. Comrade and La Principessa, but not limited to them) in which they agree, and say that many of the other female comrades agree, that leftist men are, by and large, useless in bed.
I don't know if it's the demographic of nerdiness that often goes along with leftism, or if it's something about dudes who are down with women's liberation through socialist revolution, or what, but apparently the male comrades are largely incapable or unwilling to engage in the kind of Mick Jagger-esque rooster-y swagger that appeals to their baser instincts, nor the "slam me against the wall, hold me down" ravishing that, apparently, a great many of them crave, with or without the influence of Fifty Shades of Grey.
I'm learning as I go.
Anyway, I believe it was Citizen Home above, in a summary of the rape fantasies that he's read about, who brought up the whole "I'm so hot, he lost control of himself" thing, which, IIRC, is what Freud referred to in female sexuality as narcissism, but anyway, that's been a big thing with her, too. "Oh, Doodlebug, when you touch me, I lose control of my body, I want to do that to you, too." "Baby," I reply, "I'm just happy to be here."
Anyway, she just got back from walking the dog after we got back from the Newark commie rally, so, uh, I gotta go...
Well, In These Times seems to think it was a victory. Good enough, I guess. Four for four, baby!
[Reads first section]
Man, what a shiznitty contract.... :(
Vive le General Ludd!