I think people see companies paying big checks and the individuals getting away with it, and I think it stokes an enormous amount of anger with the system and undermines the legitimacy of our justice system.
Here’s another novel translation. It’s as the title implies, 34 days of the Levi Squad helping Corporal with his love life. One of the best on pixiv and one of my favorite authors!
◆Levi Squad Journal Day 1 :Leader: Erd :Weather: Sunny :Missions: General training, meeting
:Report Contents: Today our squad has been assigned a new recruit. It’s Eren Jeager, the one who holds the ability to transform into a titan. A record for Eren who has many expectations and worries has been deemed necessary so Erd Jin, Gunta Schultz, Oluo Bozado, and Petra Ral have been given the duty to record in a journal on a daily basis by rotation from here on out. Anything noticed about Eren or any particular actions taken by him should be recorded in this report contents section. Once written, have it checked by Corporal Levi and the other squad members. This is fine, right?
:Check Field: 【Levi】 No problem. Change “report contents” to “today’s Eren”. 【Erd】 Roger. 【Gunta】 Roger. 【Oluo】 Roger. 【Petra】 Roger.
EXETER, N.H. — There was a man with a “Stop Puppy Mills” T-shirt and another whose shirt read “National Sarcasm Society.” There was a woman, dressed entirely in white, holding a banner reading “Lead Us to Clean Energy.” There was a man with an Apache haircut. There was even a little old lady in tennis shoes.
This could only be a Bernie Sanders rally.
And the lady in tennis shoes? She was here mainly out of curiosity. She voted for Mitt Romney in the last two New Hampshire primaries.
Then there was the candidate himself. He wore a dress shirt, open at the neck, and his speech started early and ended late. He used the word “billionaire” more than half a dozen times, and he sprinkled his talk with references to “Corporate America.” He spoke about big campaign contributions (he has none, wouldn’t take any) and the “grotesque level of income and wealth inequality in America” (he deplored it) and won his biggest applause when he said, “This is a rigged economy, an economy that is not sustainable, and that is not an American economy.”
But he wasn’t done yet. In the sweltering confines of the Exeter Town Hall — every seat filled, the back of the hall five deep with standees, the balcony jammed and every one of the seven granite steps outside occupied with the devout, the devoted and the determined, all drenched in heavy perspiration — he launched into his speech: full employment, the Citizens United decision, gay marriage, voter suppression, the Trans Pacific Partnership, student debt, climate change, acidification of the oceans, access to abortion, energy efficiency, the criminal justice system, prison reform, mental health and crumbling infrastructure. In one sentence he crammed in the words “racism,” “sexism” and “homophobia.”
But wait. We’re not nearly done yet. Elimination of tuition at all public colleges. Guaranteed single-payer health care. Assuring that police are no longer an “oppressor force.” Paid family leave. Paid vacations.
“This,” he said at one point, not remotely finished, “is some of what we have to do.”
Despite the sweltering heat hundreds came out to protest savage cuts to the ABC. The ABC is a public institution that not only fosters Australian music, drama and comedy, it provided critical media outlets for both our First Nation people (NITV) and migrant communities, something that would be impossible if media was left to commercial broadcasters. Just as important was it’s role in providing comprehensive balanced high calibre journalism from late line to 4 corners to foreign correspondent. Coalitions claims of left wing bias is more evidence of its hyper sensitivity to any criticism, and a market where corporate journalism is frighteningly poor, populistic and right wing.
Pharmaceutical Pricing And Corporate Greed / Why Journalism Matters
“A huge overnight price increase for an important tuberculosis drug has been rescinded after the company that acquired the drug gave it back to its previous owner under pressure, it was announced on Monday….
Cycloserine [a tuberculosis drug] was acquired last month by Rodelis Therapeutics, which promptly raised the price to $10,800 for 30 capsules, from $500…. The drug made by generic companies abroad costs only about $20 for 100 capsules….
But the company agreed to return the drug to its former owner, a nonprofit organization affiliated with Purdue University, the organization said on Monday.” - Andrew Pollack, NYT
Can you do a prompt where Zayn yells at Harry to "stop fucking about so much" cause you might slip on ice and get hurt? <333
Everyone knew that Zayn had a protective streak. It was the headline of hundreds of magazines and journalism corporations when he hurdled himself against the camera that had knocked Niall to the ground. It became a trend among the fans and their artwork once he pulled Harry away from the stage’s fiery display and playfully knocked a bug out of Liam’s vicinity. The protectiveness shined through whenever Louis curled underneath his arm in the back of Bus One, sniffles pressed into the crook of his neck and counteracted with a kiss to the crown of his head. It became even more obvious when one of Zayn’s sisters called him in the middle of the night, separated by the sometimes drastic time zones, asking when he would be home to play with their hair again, much like he did when they were younger and he was merely a boy growing up in Bradford.
It’s a familiar feeling - blooming deeply into the center of his chest - when Harry knocks into you, tripping over his own two feet while Niall snickers from beside him. Zayn steadies his hand against the bone of your hip and pulls you into the warm side of his body, protectively shielding you from the inevitable shock of cold that would have come if he hadn’t caught you. He’s casting a steely gaze at Harry’s sheepish grin, but when you press a hand against the warm plane of his chest, he loosens the tension in his shoulders.
Before he can open his mouth to speak, you’re reaching over to shove at the expanse of Harry’s chest. The curly haired boy guffaws before beginning to push towards you, the glimmer of deceit evident in his eyes.
“Don’t. Stop fucking about so much,” Zayn warns, despite the small endearing smile that is pushing past his close-lipped mouth at the sight of you two getting along so well. “Walk away.”
In Harry’s defense, Louis smirks. “He can’t, mate. We’re on ice.”
Harry, in his loosely tightened ice skates and naturally clumsy limbs, raises his eyebrows at your boyfriend. There’s a quiet revelation in his stare, directed at Zayn, and only the other boys subtly pivot their skates toward him in wonder. Knowing flashes behind each pairs of eyes, and without saying anything, Liam carefully knocks his shoulder into his best friend’s and gives him a comforting smile.
It’s later in the evening, when you’re resting in Zayn’s bunk bed with the covers tucked around your shoulders and one pair of his headphones shielding you with the noise of his voice. Louis is coming forward to rest his elbows on his knees and Zayn can only prepare himself for the worst, so he settles for leaning against the back of the couch while the game controller slips out of his fingers.
“You don’t get protective over many people, mate, do you?”
Zayn tests the waters; the words on his lips. “No,” he says slowly, blinking up at him. “I guess I don’t.”
“Just the people who matter?”
“I don’t know where you’re going with this, Lou.”
“Would you have decked Harry earlier this afternoon?”
Now understanding the inference, Zayn lets an easy smile wash over his face. “No,” he murmurs honestly, “It wasn’t that serious. Harry’s my best mate - we fuck around all the time.”
Louis can sense a ‘but,’ so he tilts his head to the side with a question mark written over his face. It turns into an answer when Zayn quietly admits, “If it had been, by anyone else, I would have - without hesitation.”
Without looking over at Zayn again, Louis picks up his controller and unfreezes the game. “Yeah.” He chuckles to himself, like he’s in on an inside joke that has left Zayn out of the mix. “I know that. You get this glazed look in your eyes when you care about someone that much, man, and you act on it, even if it’s just a fuckin’ bug that’s bothering Liam. We all saw it when the band was first put together.”
Zayn swallows the lump in his throat. “And?”
Louis turns his cheek a fraction; meets Zayn’s fleeting glance with a comforting smile. At this moment, Zayn knows he approves, and it’s written with affection on the apples of his cheeks when he grins.
people dismissing the social media coverage on the basis that it was social media are unbelievable, like this isn’t like, medium thoughtpieces on miley cyrus’s sex posi feminism or whatever this was people in a life threatening situation getting the word out via social media, showing more integrity to the craft of journalism and it’s most valuable role than most corporate journalism outlets, like, show some fucking respect. the fact that people from the comfort of their own home can dismiss their reporting as social media bullshit is like, unreal