Completely unrelated, but if anyone's (does Madame Sissyl ever read this thread?) got any good articles about how to love people with really horrible depression and anxiety issues without going crazy, I'd be most appreciative.
RPG Superstar Season 9 Top 32
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I'm not really sure what that citizen's income thing is. Sounds like some kind of welfare. We don't have that in the United States, so I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about. Where are you at, Comrade Poet?
I'm also in the U.S., but I was just wondering if anyone had heard of the citizen's income idea. Implementing it as a form of welfare has been tried in isolated towns, and I believe there is at least one country in South America (it may be Brazil, otherwise probably in one of the more progressive countries in the southern cone like Argentina) is seriously considering it.
And I'm sorry if you felt I was doubting Engels' commitment to women's liberation! I just felt that the references to gender and family as it regarded the creation of class society were rooted in an understanding of gender that wasn't as complicated as I thought it could or should be. Which, of course, is the fault of structural sexism. I didn't mean to step on any comrades' toes, I was just trying to approach the imagining of a historical era through the lens of third wave feminism and historiography.
I'm too busy looking up How to Talk with Someone You Love When They Are Depressed which doesn't help at all.
I already figured all this shiznit out.
Australia has the Beyond Blue organisation....Link. I dont know if the US has anything similar.
If you were in Australia I could direct you to support groups.
I wish you all the best Doodlebug, you have my admiration and you are going about things the right way.
The respect of the people for the great Bolshevik Lenin.
Apparently, they have one in Seattle.
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Thank you, Comrade Dwarf.
Looks like I'm gonna have to finally stop patronizing Dunkin Donuts.
Starbucks Supplier Drivers, Helpers Join Teamsters Local 25
Teamsters Run on Starbucks!
Organize the Unorganized!
Vive le Galt!!!
Found a reference to Judith Butler in the ol' Concerned with Cultural Marxism thread. I wonder whatever happened to ol' Comrade Hawkshaw and dear, little Charlotte?
Simmons College: Angela Davis - Black History Month Keynote
Dr. Angela Davis, a prominent political activist, will be speaking at Simmons College on February 6th 2015! This event is hosted by Black Student Organization, Residential Housing Association, Like Minds Coalition, Campus Activities Board, Amnesty International, and Students United For Justice.
The respect of the people for the great Bolshevik Lenin.Apparently, they have one in Seattle.
Apparently the neighbourhood had a reputation for being a bit leftist (Leftist ideas, In Seattle, surely not), and is also the site of a giant sculpture of a troll "eating" a real VW.
I thought the one with the green vest looked quite dapper.
There's a pretty hawt photo of La Principessa reaching up and holding his finger. It really shows off her bosoms.
I feel bad about not being there, but, ironically, driving in the snow is a big no-no for this Teamster.
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From Down Under:
Factory Workers Continue To 'Occupy Dandenong' In Fight For Fair Wages
Workers Win Four-Day Factory Stand-Off For Better Wages, Conditions
That was quick.
Huzzah!!
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Love Among the Ultra-Lefts
I'm not entirely sure that's true, but anyway, I spoke with my mother about it and, while sympathetic, she asked "Are you really sure that you want to do this for the rest of your life?"
And I thought about it and I realized that the answer was "F#@& yeah!" so I called out sick for the rest of the week, hopped on a bus to Brooklyn and showed up on her stoop unannounced.
[Cellphone conversation (yes, she made me buy a cellphone)]
"Hey, baby, I got two questions for you: How many essays did you grade?" [Long, rambling answer] "Okay, second question: do we have any condoms left?" [Long rambling answer] By this time I had navigated my luggage through her building, her elevator, and ended up on the sixth floor. "Hey, baby, I've got a confession to make. I lied to you. I didn't go to work today." [Knocks on apartment door] "Hold on, baby, someone's at the door. Who the f%%+ is knocking on my door this late at night, it'd better be good--" [Girlish shrieks and tears]
Long story short, I was all like, "Baby, I don't have a ring, but I do have a well-used copy of The Origin of the Family, Private Property and the State. Will you marry me?"
She melted, but wouldn't say "yes" because, a) she's a communist and doesn't believe in marriage; and b) she's already married (I don't think I've mentioned that before--long story that I won't go into).
And I was all, like, "Look, you're a mess down here without me, and I can't get anything done up there without you, so, I'll have to talk to my steward, but I think the only conceivable course of action is that I go get tested, come back, knock you up, get married and then apply for a hardship transfer." She still wouldn't say yes, but was overjoyed nonetheless, and cried a little because nobody had ever asked her to get married before, and then we did it, twice.
This morning, before she went off to work she said, "I love you so much. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. It's gonna take some time to get some things worked out, but when they do, if you still want to, of course I will marry you."
F&&+ yeah!
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[Fergie's head explodes]
EDIT:
But, Yeah, f@$$ yeah!
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Huzzah! And good luck!
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You're going to be the Shlyapnikov and Kollontai of Brooklyn!
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La Principessa took me to my first Brooklyn hipster house party last night. Was pretty excited, until I got there and noticed that all of the partiers looked like children. Then I got really tired, looked at the clock and it was only 11:45. That's when I realized that I have gotten old.
:(
If it's any consolation, some of us had that happen to us the same year we turned 21.
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Went to a NY branch meeting where, apparently, there was quite a row.
I didn't notice 'cuz I was too busy doing childcare which consisted of acting out tales from In the Beginning: Creation Stories from Around the World.
Most amusing bit was when he was Zeus and I was Pandora and he invited me up to hang out with him in the clouds. "Why would Pandora go and hang out with Zeus?" I asked. "We have a playdate!" he shouted gleefully. "Yeah, I hear Zeus has a lot of playdates..."
Second most amusing bit was reading a story from the Kono people of Guinea about Sa and Alantangana and he shrieked with mock terror, ran into the meeting and, when approached by La Principessa, confided that there was a "terrible old skullface in the hallway."
"What?!?"
"In the beginning, there was chaos and darkness. And then there was death!"
"What were you doing to that poor boy?" she asked afterwards.
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Last week, I had branch committee
Yesterday, I had district committee
In two days' time I have branch.
Have I got/will I get to do anything exciting in 'em?
Probably not. Maybe I should combine branch with polearm practice. They'd like that!
Acquaintance of Comrade Anklebiter's in The Advocate
Last week, I had branch committee
Yesterday, I had district committee
In two days' time I have branch.
Have I got/will I get to do anything exciting in 'em?
Probably not. Maybe I should combine branch with polearm practice. They'd like that!
trots and ml'ers will always have boring meetings.
join the anarchists! we always have great meetings and tasty food. we also don't shoot our comrades in the back to get more power.
Pardon me, stab in the back. We're not allowed guns here until we learn to play with them nicely.
Yours may be different, in which case good on you, but my memories of anarchist meetings I attended when I was younger don't still thrill me 15 years on, to be honest. I wasn't at the one where people took their clothes off in the name of Freedom, which is perhaps why I became such a grim-faced inhuman Statist.
What do you call two anarchists?
A three-way shouting match.
Pardon me, stab in the back. We're not allowed guns here until we learn to play with them nicely.
Yours may be different, in which case good on you, but my memories of anarchist meetings I attended when I was younger don't still thrill me 15 years on, to be honest. I wasn't at the one where people took their clothes off in the name of Freedom, which is perhaps why I became such a grim-faced inhuman Statist.
Heh. Yeah to be honest I have been to a few boring anarchist meetings, like, planning for some action isn't always the most exciting thing, and also when we've been dumb enough to let a hippy or two in things get bogged down pretty quickly... But apart from that there's usually at least some superinteresting discussion or letter from a comrade in prison or report on some fun action/prank/eight tons of macadam delivered to some rich bastards home or some interesting new tactic that's planned for a court defense (last time a friend was in court, he tried mimicking how rapists get freed by arguing that "well the minister didn't say he didn't want to get a cream cake in the face!", that was hilarious).
And of course, the food's always great. That's the best reason for coming. If I can't eat delicious chickpea stew, it's not my revolution.
I didn't have a boring meeting. I played "Zeus and Pandora."
Actually, it was funny, 'cuz La Principessa called the boy's mother the next day and told her the story about Olympian playdates, etc. and she responded "So, that's why he keeps shouting and giggling about boxes!"
Maybe next time you'll play 'Zeus and Leda', or 'Zeus and Europa', or 'Zeus and Semele' (with somebody else, of course) - if you're lucky!
Or maybe that's after the meeting, wink wink nudge nudge.
Tomorrow night I will bring a packet of mints and watch things go off the wall
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Just volunteer for childcare. Playing Greek gods is more fun than interminable debates about SYRIZA and KKE and, more importantly, the female comrades will hold you in higher regard.
For women's liberation through socialist revolution and twice the rate of female orgasm!
Also, New England snowstorm has left me stranded in New York two days longer than I had planned due to the Chinatown buses continuing to cancel.
Not that I'm complaining, mind you, but La Principessa keeps thinking I'm going to get in trouble.
"Baby, I'm in the Teamsters, not the Teachers Union. What are they gonna do, give me a warning letter? [Derisive laughter] Stop worrying and come here..."
Dear Britishiznoid comrades, Britishiznoid friends, and anglophiles:
Is it true that Britishiznoids have a saying, "Horses for courses." And if they do, what does it mean?
Yes, they do. Essentially, it means different people are suited to different things.
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I'm not really sure what that citizen's income thing is. Sounds like some kind of welfare. We don't have that in the United States, so I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about. Where are you at, Comrade Poet?I'm also in the U.S., but I was just wondering if anyone had heard of the citizen's income idea. Implementing it as a form of welfare has been tried in isolated towns, and I believe there is at least one country in South America (it may be Brazil, otherwise probably in one of the more progressive countries in the southern cone like Argentina) is seriously considering it.
....
Alaska. Well, sort of and based on the state's income so it's variable. But yeah. Alaska.
Yes, they do. Essentially, it means different people are suited to different things.
I presume it comes from that different breeds and types of horses are suited for different types of races.
The sport of kings, huh?
Vive le Galt!!!
Anyway, La Principessa was complaining to the boy's mother about my lacksadaisacal, slacker-ish ways, and the mother responded, "Horses for courses. He was meant to be a stay at home dad. I think it's his calling."
[Shrugs]
I'm guessing it's more emotionally satisfying than throwing boxes for a living.
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Meet the Revolutionary League of Men Whom Women Find Unattractive
Formed by a man who, when dumped by his girlfriend, found solace in the Communist Manifesto
End the blood-soaked conspiracy of Valentine's Day, driven by the chocolate capitalists!
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Good on ya mate. Congrats Comrade.
Yes, they do. Essentially, it means different people are suited to different things.I presume it comes from that different breeds and types of horses are suited for different types of races.The sport of kings, huh?
Vive le Galt!!!
Anyway, La Principessa was complaining to the boy's mother about my lacksadaisacal, slacker-ish ways, and the mother responded, "Horses for courses. He was meant to be a stay at home dad. I think it's his calling."
[Shrugs]
I'm guessing it's more emotionally satisfying than throwing boxes for a living.
Used a lot in Australia as well especially when talking about cricket.... You don't play 20-20, or limited over specialists in a test match.... It's horses for courses....
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OK, Longears, I've done as you asked and it's cost me sore. Now, you creepy demi-human bastard, give me gin! GIN! GIN!!
"Ha!"
Colonel Von Guffenberg smacked his riding crop against one flabby thigh and leered at his prisoner, bound tightly to a artwheel in the burnt-out, roofless barn in which he and his men were bivouacked. Her dark hair, released from the steel helmet under which it had been confined, flowed in a cascade of inky velvet around her slender shoulders and her brown eyes flashed defiance at the porcine Baltic German, an officer in the White armies fighting the revolutionary forces in post WW1 Russia. The Colonel continued. "You are not so saucy now, eh? Of all things - a woman coming up against a German officer and expecting to come out victorious! Well, my little minx, my Freikorps and I will soon show you who's master!"
"Pig!" Spat Commander Principiva Principovich. "You would never have captured me if it wasn't for that fake surrender! So much for the honour of the Von Guffenbergs!"
Her full, sensuous lips curled in contempt, and the colonel's tiny, watery blue eyes narrowed. He grunted furiously:
"Bolshevik harpy! I shall enjoy taming you!"
He reached out, tearing away Principovich's battledress to reveal the soft, womanly curves beneath. She spat in his eye, and howling with rage, he bent back his arms to lash her across the face with his riding crop - then CRASH!
The door burst open, and sillhouetted in the cold, steppe morning light stood a burly, shaggy figure, the crimson star of the Red Army blazing from his breast! "Drop that whip or it will be the worse for you, counter-revolutionary dungbeetle!" he roared, and Von Guffenberg, fear-spawned sweat bedewing his pasty jowls, screamed "Guards - seize him!"
The White guards surged forward, only to realise that this was no academy-spawned paper soldier, but a Titan of the revolution, who picked them up and tossed them about as if they were the parcels of mail he had dealt with while working on the Norvyrograd to Smelepilkhi railway! Von Guffenberg pulled out his pistol with a shaky hand and fired wildly, but to no avail - his decadent, enervated physique could not stand up to the rigours of a real battle and the bullets went wide.
The guards were down - the Colonel, cursing foully in his native tongue, futilely pulled the trigger on an empty chamber, his riding britches growing damp and warm. With an exclamation of disgust and contempt, the newcomer drew his arm back and rocketed a hefty proletarian fist into the Teuton's jaw, sending him spiralling to the ground.
Principiva surveyed the figure in front of her, sweat glazed, unkempt and covered with the scars of battle. Her pulse began to race and she started breathing faster, her mind whirling. With an effort, she controlled the mad rush of emotion that threatened to overwhelm her and spoke.
"Dudel Dudelovitch", she stammered. "Comrade", he replied. She flushed, heat creeping over her despite the chill as his gaze swept over her statuesque form, its lambent eroticism heightened by the ripped battledress and the tight bonds that constrained her. Anger and resentment flared up within her at his untamed, unreconstructed, goatish maleness - what are we fighting for, if not to realise our entire selves as opposed to merely being playthings, drudges and lust puppets? - but
beneath the rage, glowing, growing, threatening to burst into flames at any moment -
Desire.
He started to walk towards her; she could not repress a gasp of... wanting... as that familiar face grew closer, his eyes hot with the fires of lust and his scent, his shape, his aura of pure masculinity sending an irresistable message to her loins - come! He reached out a hand, grasping her shoulder in a grip that was simultaneously rough and tender, then tore away the remaining shreds of clothing that adorned her body. He seized her around the waist with and crushed her lips to his, and she could not - would not - resist.
The revolution could wait - for the moment, the world outside their two entwined bodies did not exist. He was his, he was hers, and that was all that mattered! Lust had made a bonfire of the universe, and all they could do was watch it burn!
Much obliged, Vanessa.
Already secretly posted to Facebook. Now I'm gonna go, uh, logoff.
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Well, if it ever stops snowing, we might have a rally this Saturday:
La Principessa was quite tickled by Rose of the Revolution...but only after she realized that nobody else could see it.
She embarrasses easily.
Thanks again, Vanessa!
Not much time before I have to go meet the local activists helping build the Malcolm X anniversary rally and distribute flyers throughout Lowell, but...
Friday: PACK THE COURT to Defend the Jan 15th Highway Blockade protestors!
and
Chicago: How To Sell Off a City
Break with the Democrats!
For workers revolution!
One from Comrade Samnell:
America’s Forgotten Mass Lynching: When 237 People Were Murdered In Arkansas
I can't share it, alas, but there's a really cute picture of my favorite kid photobombing Pablo Iglesias of Podemos on the stage yesterday at the CUNY Grad Center.
More on Pablo:
Pablo Iglesias is right to evoke the guillotine and the French revolution
"Blades falling on regal necks is powerful imagery."
F*~$in' a!
Vive le Galt!!!