all about crime

American propaganda works so well that we still have people out here thinking it was totally fine and justified that the United States dropped two atomic bombs on Japanese civilians, killing well over 100,000 innocent people. It works so well that, even though the United States is the only country to ever use a nuclear bomb in warfare, people think that the United States is still the only qualified entity to invade other countries in order to stop them from having nuclear weapons. It works so well that you can read all about every war crime committed by the United States all around the world, with little to no government censorship, and that STILL doesn’t make people rise up in anger. It works so well that you can read accounts of the CIA or FBI literally trying to brainwash Americans into total subservience and people STILL won’t resist.

Americans put the Soviets to shame in how effective their propaganda is. It’s not even close.

aint it wild how you could read about all the crimes committed by the US government from like a middle school library computer connected to wikipedia, like it’s so casually there 

10

anonymous asked:

i've been repeatedly called offensive for pointing out the non existence of reverse racism to my WHITE british teachers. I straight up told them they couldn't be oppressed, they seriously "offended" and it is going to a) affect my grades bc i made a presentation on it and my teacher got mad b) possibly get me in a ton of trouble because another teacher reported me to the head of school. I genuinely hate white people at this point and i want them to go away forever.

Well I don’t know how to solve the issues of your teachers and school but I can back you up on the other crap they’re denying. Expect a long post.

So, let’s take a look at this reverse racism lol. Sorry, it makes me laugh whenever white people bring it up because first of all, society and the systems and institutions that create it were built to cater to white people because they had the most power (and still do). It is necessary to understand these power structures and once we understand them, we will see that reverse racism in fact does NOT exist because white people are not oppressed in any systematic way or form.

The demographics in America are indeed changing but society is still assumed to be white and therefore, systems and institutions are still built to cater towards white people, giving them an advantage. This is known as white privilege. And it doesn’t matter if a white person’s life is economically tough because economics is only ONE factor that plays into the course of an entire lifetime. A single factor is not enough to offset white privilege that has been awarded to white people for hundreds of years that continue today. Let’s look at some resources…

Reverse Racism:

White Privilege:

Now let’s look at your British teachers and what their ancestors did:

I can go all day with this but you get the idea.

And not that I’m trying to put the spotlight on Germany but the atrocities of World War II are taught to German children in school with “great depth” and is mandatory. Now if white people were taught and actually understood about all the crimes their ancestors did, how it all benefits them today, and how it all spills over in today’s world (especially in America), then perhaps white people would be a little more sympathetic to and understanding of everyone else, instead of denying everything.

You see, white America does everything it can to erase all the atrocities it committed (even those being committed today) while conditioning white people to deny when said atrocities are brought up. It is both erasure and denial of white supremacy, white privilege, colonialism, genocide, racism, and many other things that keep white people in power and the rest of us oppressed. In fact, the moment white people see such terms, they automatically become defensive and harbor a state of denial, which is proof of their conditioning.

Update: Another anon offered some advice.

Angry Asian Guy

@zukotiddies reblogged your response to the post La La Land and added:

This is what La La Land teaches. And as a Black musician, it bothered the everliving fuck out of me. Ryan Gosling’s character is portrayed as keeping jazz alive…by not adding any innovations to it whatsoever??? While John Legend’s character is treated like some kind of shill artist cause he modernizes and makes jazz-hip-hop fusion that actually appeals to people younger than ninety? But this is bad, cause he has sexy twerking backup singers, and jazz was never considered racy back in the day, and was always considered high art.

This is such bullshit, because at first white people thought jazz was all about sex, drugs, and crime and they called it actual, honest-to-goodness Evil-with-a-capital-E. They thought of Cab Calloway the same way they thought of Snoop Dogg. And after it had been around for a while, and they felt comfortable around it, they started appropriating it, watering it down, and acting like they were better at it than the people who created it. I have a record at home of King Olivier’s band, including Louis gotdamn Armstrong before he went solo, like these were the best of the best. And whatever white dude wrote the blurb on the back of the record case called them “the best of the Negro bands” as if that were some lower tier of jazz, as if to say, “they’re alright for Negros I guess.”

This, by the way, is the same process that happened to Rock n Roll, which evolved out of the blues, and therefore out of Negro spirituals and work songs, in the first place.

And, like what was already mentioned, Black people have been innovating and fusing jazz since we created it. If you want an explanation for why older jazz is considered elevator music (New Orleans jazz is my fave, btw) you can look to white people who sanitized it, and started treating it like classical music, like it’s this higher, classier form of entertainment for classy old people to go to the opera house to see, and which should never, ever be changed. The rose-colored nostalgia goggles are the reason why jazz is considered elevator music.

(I’m not reblogging this thread again because I don’t want to put up the gifset yet again, but this reply is worth posting.)

ftr, if anyone finds it hard to believe that Cab Calloway was the Snoop Dogg of his time, he sang about weed and everything:

So I had heard that John Legend’s character was a hack/sellout… I did not know that he was portrayed that way because he did jazz/hip-hop fusion. To me, that’s a fundamental misunderstanding of jazz. It’s great to appreciate the old legends of jazz, of course! But the idea that it should remain “pure” and sound like what was made nearly a century ago is weird and regressive (not to mention, we can love the greats of the early 20th Century, but those time periods mean very different things to white people vs. Black people).

3

A letter from the Moors Murderer, Ian Brady , in which he advises a young pen pal away from a life of crime and to focus on his studies instead. Here, Brady almost seems to show genuine concern and kindness for the boy. The letter reads:

Dear Thomas,
Thank you for your letter. Now I want you to read this letter very carefully to ensure you fully understand the important points I intend to make. I’ve told you repeatedly in previous letters that crime is a mug’s game, and that you can earn more by training for a skilled job, as you are presently doing, getting good results from your courses and exams, which I tried to assist you with. I spent most of my life in prison advising other prisoners to get out and keep out. There’s nothing romantic about crime, it’s hard unrewarding work even for the criminals who are clever. An amateur would be caught or sold out immediately. Seeing cases in headlines only gives the impression of excitement, while the people behind the headlines rot for decades in tiny cells. If you find ordinary life and freedom boring at times, you can’t imagine how much worse it is in prison. If you could imagine it, you’d soon lose any interest in crime and criminals. Try to imagine sitting in a cell for forty years, while your friends outside are enjoying themselves. I get the impression that you may have written to other prisoners. If they have ever suggested that crime is an intelligent occupation, they are lying simply to comfort themselves. You’ve as much chance of becoming a successful criminal as winning the lottery. The majority of successful criminals have also spent most of their lives behind bars, flash when they win, but never mentioning when they lose. I’m talking from 36 years of experience of criminals remember.

And for me, well my example says it all. I’m already a dead man walking. What’s to be admired about having death as a sole ambition? What’s even interesting about that? You’re young, free, and have everything to look forward to. Forget crime and criminals entirely. Even the Krays spent most of their lives in prisons. So did the Train Robbers, I met them in prison and they were broken men. They would’ve chosen different lives had they been able to see the future. I am weak now and also have flu, so I’m losing all interest in the outside world and have nothing left to teach you or anyone else, except the futility of crime. So I’m beginning to say goodbye to all the people I write to, including you. I enjoyed our letters and the many intelligent questions you have asked - much more than many other people I write to. Simply guide your interested intelligence in a more positive direction. My life is over, long ago. It’s important that you do not believe my stopping writing to you is something personal. It isn’t. I’m simply tired with the outside world in general. It has no relevance to me as I will never see it again. The crucial thing is that you forget all about crime and criminals and get on with your life in a positive manner. Once you commit a crime and are caught, you forfeit all the many benefits of society.
It is also important to realise that your innocent letters to me would get you into a great deal of trouble if certain people outside found out about it. That alone could ruin your life. Understand? Destroy all my letters and simply remember the good advice I’ve given.
There’s no need to answer this letter. I wish you all the best. Thanks for writing.

Best wishes, Ian Brady

3

really not looking forward to work tomorrow so trying to keep the anxiety away with happy doodles of my mains

help me out here guys, is there a Buzzfeed Unsolved fandom on tumblr and if so, how would one go about joining said fandom? asking for a friend

Bug Out

Also on AO3
Chronologically follows “Everything’s Better.”  It can stand on its own, but if you want to read in order, catch that one first.
Now with art by Eden Daphne!!!


“Ouch!” Marinette squealed, freezing in the middle of pulling a dress over her head.

“What’s wrong?” Chat asked, hands out, ready to help.  She’d sounded more startled than hurt, but he didn’t care for it either way.  There was also something vaguely familiar about it, but he couldn’t quite place it.

“I must’ve missed a pin,” she muttered, holding the neckline away from her as she peeled it back off.

Chat gathered the fabric and eased it back over her head, wincing at the long thin line of red down her cheek, from temple to jaw.  "Oh, Princess,“ he whispered sadly.  "You’re bleeding.”

“It’s just a scratch,” she assured him, trying to find the offending pin.

“It’s on your face, though.”  He frowned and decided their photoshoot was cancelled.  "We’ve got to get that taken care of.  Pack up.“

"But it’s just a…”

“No,” he said firmly.  He hadn’t had to show her his stern and unmovable side, so it was apparently time.  "We’re going home and I’m going to tend to that.“

She blinked in surprise.  "You’re that worried about it?”

“Please just let me take care of you,” he said, bending to press his forehead against hers in the way she liked.

“Fine.”  She sighed.  "Take me home, Chataxi.“

Keep reading

6

“It’s just like Hamlet said: ‘To thine own self be true’.”
“No, Hamlet didn’t say that.”
“I think that I remember Hamlet accurately.”

Dostoevsky Moodboard Challenge ( 2 / infinite ) : Crime and Punishment

“And what if I am wrong,” he cried suddenly after a moment’s thought. “What if man is not really a scoundrel, man in general, I mean, the whole race of mankind—then all the rest is prejudice, simply artificial terrors and there are no barriers and it’s all as it should be." 


“In my opinion, if, as the result of certain combinations, Kepler’s or Newton’s discoveries could become known to people in no other way than by sacrificing the lives of one, or ten, or a hundred or more people who were hindering the discovery, or standing as an obstacle in its path, then Newton would have the right, and it would even be his duty… to remove those ten or a hundred people, in order to make his discoveries known to mankind. It by no means follows from this, incidentally, that Newton should have the right to kill anyone he pleases, whomever happens along, or to steal from the market every day. Further, I recall developing in my article the idea that all… well, let’s say, the lawgivers and founders of mankind, starting from the most ancient and going on to the Lycurguses, the Solons, the Muhammads, the Napoleons, and so forth, that all of them to a man were criminals, from the fact alone that in giving a new law, they thereby violated the old one, held sacred by society and passed down from their fathers, and they certainly did not stop at shedding blood either, if it happened that blood (sometimes quite innocent and shed valiantly for the ancient law) could help them.”

Sidetracked

Request: Nope

Prompt: 44 and 45 from this list: “what you did was stupid” and “no. you listen.”

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: y/n and Peter are close friends, and she knows all about his crime-fighting persona. He always tells her before he goes off to fight the bad guys, but when he doesn’t reply after several days before showing up out of the blue, she is understandably upset.

Warnings: some swearing, mention of blood

Reader insert!


y/n’s mother was beginning to pick up on her odd behavior, but she didn’t care. All she could think about was Peter’s bruised and battered body, laying in an abandoned alley somewhere. She didn’t care that she sent endless texts. He always told her where he was and whether he had won. So surely something had gone wrong.

As the sun set on the fourth day since Peter had vanished, y/n was beginning to loose hope. She was seriously debating phoning the police, but how ridiculous would that sound? “Hello, yeah, my very good friend Spider-Man might be in trouble!” She just didn’t know what to do.

At midnight, her eyelids finally began to feel heavy. Maybe he’ll have texted me back in the morning, she thought sleepily.

Keep reading

Wait, WHAT did I do on Snapchat?

Hey guys, this is just something silly I thought of, I hope you like it!  

Rated T for language and implied scenarios.  Nalu one shot! :)


Lucy’s head was pounding, her mouth tasted like something unholy crawled up her throat and died, and she was fairly sure that her mascara had glued her eyelashes shut.  She shifted around on the soft material that was under her and roughly scrubbed at her eyes in effort to regain her eyesight.  Finally, she was able to crack open her eyes and take a slit-eyed look at her surroundings.  She was in an unfamiliar apartment- great.  She knew that she shouldn’t have gone out with Cana and the other girls; she rarely got drunk, let alone drunk enough to not even remember what she did the previous night.  It didn’t help that Cana had practically been pouring alcohol down her throat.  Ugh, Lucy was in for a long morning.  Or was it afternoon by now?  Either way, Lucy was tangled in the covers of someone else’s bed, and apparently about a million notifications lighting up her phone- no wait, make that a million and one.  Her phone chimed and it was a text from her friend Levy.

Please tell me where you are!  I’m worried sick!’  Levy was the responsible one, Cana was the one to laugh at you as you drunkenly fall off your barstool.  Lucy’s head felt like an ice pick was being driven into her brain as she looked at the bright screen of her phone and mentally promised to text Levy back after she was done sorting out the mess she was in.  She started to swing her legs out of the empty bed, noting that the curtains of the room were drawn tightly, and suddenly felt a wave of nausea hit her.  Shit, shit, shit, bathroom NOW.  

Lucy ran blinding around the room- where the hell were the people that lived here?  Lucy ran towards a small room, grateful to see a sink just beyond the doorway; she had found the bathroom.  She sprinted through the opening and turned her attention to the toilet only to halt, and quickly puke into the sink instead.  

Quadruple shit.  Hunched over the toilet was a man with only long pajama bottoms on.  Fuck.  The man just groaned in response to her expelling the previous night’s regrets into his sink.  She quickly washed it down the drain and straightened back up.  She could only see his back, his incredibly muscular back- but that wasn’t the point.

“I-I am so sorry about that.”  Lucy stammered and the man’s head shot up quickly as if something at jolted him awake.

“What the fuck?”  He stated in a haze, apparently having fallen asleep on the toilet.  The first thing Lucy noticed was his pink hair, yes, pink.  Was it dyed?  Was he born with natural freakishly pink hair?  The second thing Lucy noticed was that it was not just his back that was muscular, everything was muscular and he was hot.  Too hot.  Too much for Lucy to even believe that she ended up in this guy’s apartment.

“Oh, hello.”  The guy’s hair was messy and it hung in his eyes.  He swept his fingers through his hair in effort to pull it out of his sight, but it was futile. 

“H-hi.  Sorry for puking in your sink.  Do you know what happened last night?” Lucy questioned quickly and then a blush crept up her face.  “Oh shit, did we…?”

“I’m sorry hold on-” He immediately threw up into the toilet- no wonder why he fell asleep on the toilet.  Lucy thought she was the only one who didn’t handle her alcohol well.

“Don’t drink often?”  Lucy guessed.

“Nope.”  Came a pained response.  “Sorry you have to see me like this.  No, I dunno what happened last night, but I’m…  Sorry?  Probably.  I probably need to apologize for whatever happened.”  Lucy giggled at the guy’s response, but her breath quickly caught in her throat as she glimpsed herself in the mirror.

“Oh my fucking god!”  She looked like a monster, her eyeliner looked like an oil spill under her eyes, her eyelashes were still stuck together in tight clumps that would probably require a jackhammer to break them apart, and her lipstick was smeared around her mouth making her take on the appearance of a clown.

“What the hell’s wrong?”  He suddenly whipped around in panic and Lucy then noticed her deep red lipstick, in the form of kiss marks, dotting his face, neck, and chest- god knows where else.  

“Oh my god…”  Lucy put her head in her hands and choked back the urge to shed a few self pitying tears.  “I’m a mess.”

“H-hey, it’s okay, don’t cry!”  He dragged himself off the floor and attempted to console her by rubbing her shoulders.  The smell of whiskey and vomit radiated from him, but she knew she didn’t smell much better after all the margaritas Cana had pushed at her.  

“Oh god…  I’m sorry I’m here, sorry I look like shit.  I’m Lucy by the way.” Lucy greeted him lamely and slowly removed her hands from her face and met the gaze of the man in front of her.  “Sorry for all of that.”  Lucy gestured to the lipstick stains scattered across his skin.  “And I’m also sorry for not remembering a single thing about you or last night or how I even ended up in your apartment.”

“S’all good, neither do I.  My name’s Natsu.  My friends made me go out last night to celebrate one of em’ getting engaged.  To tell you the truth, I’m so happy to see you rather than what I imagined you might look like.”  Natsu gave a sheepish grin. “You look pretty good as a clown.”  Had he read her mind?  Lucy felt her blush returning and let out a small laugh.

“Good to know I’ve still got it after looking like this and puking in your sink.”  Suddenly, her phone started vibrating violently in her pocket.  She quickly swiped the call open and pressed it to her ear with an apologetic smile at Natsu.

“Lucy!  Thank god I have a hold of you now!  I was so worried, all Cana kept saying was ‘she’s having a good time, if you know what I mean’, and I could only keep thinking about all the crime shows we watch and you being snatched away to some pervert’s basement, and-!”

“Levy, Levy, I’m okay.  I promise.  I don’t know where I am exactly, but I’m safe.  I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”  Lucy promised her worried friend and was about to hang up when Levy stopped her.

“Wait!  Y-you might want to check snapchat…  Y-you’re not gonna like it, but I wanted to give you a full heads up.  Also, I’m sorry.  Kay bye!”  Click.  The call ended as quickly as it began and Lucy felt a new wave of remorse course through her.  While Lucy had been on the phone, Natsu too opened his phone and was intensely staring at his screen, an embarrassed look on his face.

“What is it?” Lucy questioned as she scrolled through her phone’s pages and tapped the little ghost icon and opened snapchat.

“N-nothing!” Natsu quickly clicked his phone off and looked up at her sheepishly.  Lucy shrugged it off and focused on her screen.  She had a few snapchats from Levy wondering where she was, and some from Cana from the night before that were of the brunette and various different guys or her taking shots.  It was when she made her way to her friend’s stories that she became completely mortified.  Clicking on Cana’s story, she flipped through her friend’s snaps that consisted of Lucy and Levy smiling at the bar, Cana taking more shots, Cana dancing with some guys she met, more snaps of Levy and Lucy as they got more drunk, Cana doing a body shot off of Lucy’s belly- much to Lucy’s embarrassment, but it wasn’t those snaps that got to Lucy, no.  No, it was when she started getting to Cana’s snaps from later in the night.  When she started seeing herself on a leather couch in the lounge of the bar with someone who was becoming all too familiar. 

“Oh my god.”  Lucy’s breath hitched and her heart beat in her chest.  There she was, in multiple snaps from Cana, hardcore making out with Natsu.  It started off with some making out, Lucy could have lived with that, but it was as she started watching more and more that she basically felt like her face was on fire.  As they progressed, so did Natsu and Lucy’s ‘acquaintanceship’.  She ended up straddling Natsu’s lap while making out with him.  He held nothing back either by trailing his fingers from her ass to her hips to under her shirt.  “Holy shit.  Oh my fucking god.  Holy shit.”

“I knew I needed to apologize.”  Natsu squeaked out and Lucy clicked her phone off finally.  “M-my friend’s may have posted something similar, though I didn’t see the one with you on my lap…”  Natsu mused and Lucy gasped slightly.

“This is the single most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to me ever.” Lucy sat on the floor in defeat.  

“I’m sorry if I was that horrible.”  Natsu said quietly and Lucy’s eyes shot up to him.

“What?  No!  Oh my gosh, I’m sorry.  No, trust me, you are not bad.” Lucy chuckled as she eyed him and then ripped her eyes away from his abs.  “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, you can flirt if ya want.  I think we’re already acquainted.” Natsu smirked leaning his weight against his counter.

“I’m sure that it’s not very flattering to have me flirting with you right now.”

“I really wouldn’t say that.  I see why I was making out with you last night.” Natsu stated bluntly, eyeing her.  “Uh, sorry.”

“I-it’s fine…”  Just then, a boy with dark hair quickly walked past the door and then slowly backed up and stopped in the doorway.

“Ah, the puking shit head is awake.” He smirked at Natsu who just glared at him.  Lucy felt even more mortified having someone else see her in the state that she was in.  “See your snapchat?” He stifled a chuckle and Natsu’s scowl deepened.

“What do your want Gray?  Come to make fun of me some more, or have you come to tell me we’re going to have another great night of drinking?” 

“No, no…  I figured I’d come by to ease your minds.  Well, mostly yours,” The guy named Gray aimed his statement at Lucy.  “I figure you’re probably freaking out at the thought of actually having sex with this dipshit- I just wanna let you know that nothing happened other than what happened at the bar.”  Gray laughed a little and Lucy folded her arms across her chest in annoyance.  “Sorry.  But you two came back, started making out, again, and then Natsu ran to the bathroom like a little bitch and puked, and you passed out on the bed.”  Lucy heaved out a sigh of relief.  Gray practically skipped out of the bathroom and Natsu joined her on the floor.

“That’s a relief then.”

“Would it be so bad to have been with me?” Natsu looked like he was almost pouting and a slight smile played on Lucy’s lips.

“I’d much rather get to know you before that.  Preferably when sober.  I’m not usually like that, trust me.”  Lucy sighed and Natsu smirked.

“That’s a shame, I wouldn’t mind a kiss that I could actually remember.”  Lucy’s face heated up and Natsu looked surprised that he had even said that.  “U-um, but we can part ways though.”  Lucy felt a pang of sadness spark in her and she shook her head.

“I’m glad I ended up here.”  Lucy smiled at him.  “Let’s do it again sometime- I-I mean hang out!”  Natsu gave a cocky grin, though his ears were a bit red in embarrassment.

“Hey, want my snapchat?” Natsu teased and Lucy rolled her eyes.

“I’d much rather prefer a simple text.  I think I’m done with snapchat for the time being.  And drinking.”  Lucy handed her phone to Natsu so he could put his number in her phone.

“Sounds like a deal.” Natsu chuckled and handed her his phone in return. 

Tarantino made his bones fetishizing gangstery murder, torture, extortion — surrounding suffering with cheeky dialogue, burning with revenge, taking old genres and bending them into his own. He made killing seem stylish and cool. And he has a voice in the gratuity; brutality stokes his fire, blood is baked into his brimstone. Great vengeance and furious anger — it’s all there. He’s the best at it.

But his violence is fantasy violence. That allows for a level of human debasing that titillates, makes us feel something. Cross that over into true crime — nay, one of the most harrowing true-life tales of human debasing ever inscribed to history — and something feels deeply wrong. The motivations are not evil, but they are misguided. This whole thing makes me feel something, all right — sick to my stomach.

—  Josh Dickey, Mashable, regarding the news of Tarantino working on a movie about the Manson Murders.
@“True Crime Community”

what the fuck are you doing, dawg

why are you glorifying murderers. why are you giving the media a reason to focus on the violent side of mental illness, making it seem like everyone who’s mentally ill is somehow a ticking time bomb waiting to go off.

you are the reason there’s so much stigma around people with mental illness, which makes it MORE DIFFICULT for people with mental illness to seek out help for fear of being shamed or seen as a bad person.

why are you making it seem like if you go into a building full of a minority group and start shooting people you’ll be treated like a celebrity

like, seriously, will you dudes chill the fuck out.

also, all of the people you obsess over are ugly as fuck. that’s not quite as relevant, but it’s true.