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incaseyuhnevaknow:

chrises77o7:

convolutednormality:

sancophaleague:

Donald Andrews Jr. A Black man  and Business Owner from New York was cleared just last April After being Arrested on Drugs Charges in Scotia, New York.    Police were “suspicious” of Donald Andrews Jr.’s store, which sells incense and smoking paraphernalia, and sent undercover informants several times in March. In one of the informants visits he is seen on Andrews hidden camera planting Crack Cocaine on the counter in Andrews Store.

Andrews was arrested in April  2013 and cleared only after he asked a Grand Jury to watch the surveillance footage from his store. The informant used a cellphone photo he took of the planted drugs as evidence that Andrews was dealing, leading to his arrest.

*YES THIS IS FUCKING REAL LOOK IT UP*

The police claim that the informant has now “fled” and they haven’t found his whereabouts. The sheriff “claims” his investigators didn’t purposely framed Andrews and have the “informant” out to be some rogue agent.

FYI this same “informant” has lead to seven other drug-related arrests the Report says. 

Sounds like a Movie right? But yall still out here calling people “conspiracy theorists”. 

Andrews is now in the process of suing NYPD.

Post Made by @solar_innerg

#sancophaleague

Signal boost

Nice! Stick I too em.

Police planting crack to lock up Black people is no conspiracy theory. It’s American History (1980-present).

archaicwonder:

Neo-Assyrian Head of Pazuzu, Circa 8th-7th Century BC

Pazuzu was an Assyrian and Babylonian demonic god of the 1st millennium BC. He normally has a dog-like face like here, and where his body is depicted he has a scaly torso, a snake-headed penis, the talons of a bird and usually wings.

Although Pazuzu was a malevolent force, his image was used on amulets to ward off his enemy Lamashtu, a female demon that preyed on newborn babies and their mothers. The amulet was either worn by the mother or child and larger ones were placed above their bed on a wall.

His legend was adapted and used in The Exorcist films.

I came of age without a literary soulmate. Growing up, I read every book recommended to me. Nick Carraway’s lucid account of the 1920’s seduced me. Huck Finn’s journey up the river showed me the close link between maturity and youth, and Ray Bradbury taught me to be wary of big government as well as the burning temperature of paper. While the male characters of literature built countries, waged wars, and traveled while smoking plenty of illicit substances, the women were utterly boring.

The assigned, award-winning, cannon-qualified books about women were about women I didn’t want to be. Jane Eyre was too blinded by her love for Mr. Rochester, as were all of the Bennet sisters in Pride and Prejudice. Hester Prynne of The Scarlet Letter was too maternal, and no one wants to grow up to be Anna Karenina. These women wanted to get married and have kids. They wanted to whine for 300 pages about a man who didn’t want to be with them. They wanted, it seemed, to be supporting actresses in their own stories. Their stories were equally about the men who shaped them as what they themselves wanted.

These female characters had love stories of heartbreak, but no stories of solitary self-discovery. Like many young adults, I didn’t necessarily want stable. I wanted to drive On The Road and stop off in small towns and drink more than was probably appropriate. I wanted to question who I was and be my own Catcher in the Rye. There are no Jack Kerouacs or Holden Caulfields for girls. Literary girls don’t take road-trips to find themselves; they take trips to find men.

"Great" books, as defined by the Western canon, didn’t contain female protagonists I could admire. In fact, they barely contained female protagonists at all. Of the 100 Best Novels compiled by Modern Library, only nine have women in the leading role, and in only one of those books—The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie by Muriel Spark—do the leading women strive to do more than find a husband or raise their children. Statistically, one percent of the Best Novels are about women doing something other than loving.

It’s Frustratingly Rare to Find a Novel About Women That’s Not About Love by Kelsey McKinney for The Atlantic (via wildthicket)

(Source: wildthicket)

At 19, I read a sentence that re-terraformed my head: “The level of matter in the universe has been constant since the Big Bang.”
In all the aeons we have lost nothing, we have gained nothing - not a speck, not a grain, not a breath. The universe is simply a sealed, twisting kaleidoscope that has reordered itself a trillion trillion trillion times over.
Each baby, then, is a unique collision - a cocktail, a remix - of all that has come before: made from molecules of Napoleon and stardust and comets and whale tooth; colloidal mercury and Cleopatra’s breath: and with the same darkness that is between the stars between, and inside, our own atoms.
When you know this, you suddenly see the crowded top deck of the bus, in the rain, as a miracle: this collection of people is by way of a starburst constellation. Families are bright, irregular-shaped nebulae. Finding a person you love is like galaxies colliding. We are all peculiar, unrepeatable, perambulating micro-universes - we have never been before and we will never be again. Oh God, the sheer exuberant, unlikely face of our existences. The honour of being alive. They will never be able to make you again. Don’t you dare waste a second of it thinking something better will happen when it ends. Don’t you dare.
Caitlin Moran (via ratsoff)

(Source: lustsandluxuries)

fuckyeahpaganism:

In Irish mythology, the Púca is a mischievous, shapeshifting faerie who would assume a disguise in many forms, including a horse, rabbit, goat, goblin, dog, calf, or donkey. Most commonly, the Púca is disguised as a sleek, black horse, with burning yellow eyes and an untamed, wild mane. It is among the most frightening Faeries is some parts of Ireland, and is said to scatter livestock, break fences, and cause damage to property as well as harm humans. Although It seems to have a bad reputation, If they acquire a liking to a certain human, they will often offer advice and be a generally kind faerie. The origins of the Púca is unknown, but there is some speculation that the name could have origins in Scandinavia, the name being related to “pook” or “puke” meaning “nature spirit”. 

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