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mostlysignssomeportents · 1 month

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Greedflation, but for prisoners

I'm touring my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me TOMORROW (Apr 21) in TORINO, then Marin County (Apr 27), Winnipeg (May 2), Calgary (May 3), Vancouver (May 4), and beyond!

Today in "Capitalists Hate Capitalism" news: The Appeal has published the first-ever survey of national prison commissary prices, revealing just how badly the prison profiteer system gouges American's all-time, world-record-beating prison population:

https://theappeal.org/locked-in-priced-out-how-much-prison-commissary-prices/

Like every aspect of the prison contracting system, prison commissaries – the stores where prisoners are able to buy food, sundries, toiletries and other items – are dominated by private equity funds that have bought out all the smaller players. Private equity deals always involve gigantic amounts of debt (typically, the first thing PE companies do after acquiring a company is to borrow heavily against it and then pay themselves a hefty dividend).

The need to service this debt drives PE companies to cut quality, squeeze suppliers, and raise prices. That's why PE loves to buy up the kinds of businesses you must spend your money at: dialysis clinics, long-term care facilities, funeral homes, and prison services.

Prisoners, after all, are a literal captive market. Unlike capitalist ventures, which involve the risk that a customer will take their business elsewhere, prison commissary providers have the most airtight of monopolies over prisoners' shopping.

Not that prisoners have a lot of money to spend. The 13th Amendment specifically allows for the enslavement of convicted criminals, and so even though many prisoners are subject to forced labor, they aren't necessarily paid for it:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/02/captive-customers/#guillotine-watch

Six states ban paying prisoners anything. North Carolina caps prisoners' pay at one dollar per day. Nationally, prisoners earn $0.52/hour, while producing $11b/year in goods and services:

https://www.dollarsandsense.org/archives/2024/0324bowman.html

So there's a double cruelty to prison commissary price-gouging. Prisoners earn far less than any other kind of worker, and they pay vastly inflated prices for the necessities of life. There's also a triple cruelty: prisoners' families – deprived of an incarcerated breadwinner's earnings – are called upon to make up the difference for jacked up commissary prices out of their own strained finances.

So what does prison profiteering look like, in dollars and sense? Here's the first-of-its-kind database tracking the costs of food, hygiene items and religious items in 46 states:

https://theappeal.org/commissary-database/

Prisoners rely heavily on commissaries for food. Prisons serve spoiled, inedible food, and often there isn't enough to go around – prisoners who rely on the food provided by their institutions literally starve. This is worst in prisons where private equity funds have taken over the cafeteria, which is inevitable accompanied by swingeing cuts to food quality and portions:

https://theappeal.org/prison-food-virginia-fluvanna-correctional-center/

So you have one private equity fund starving prisoners, and another that's gouging them on food. Or sometimes it's the same company. Keefe Group, owned by HIG Capital, provides commissaries to prisons whose cafeterias are managed by other HIG Capital portfolio companies like Trinity Services Group. HIG also owns the prison health-care company Wellpath – so if they give you food poisoning, they get paid twice.

Wellpath delivers "grossly inadequate healthcare":

https://theappeal.org/massachusetts-prisons-wellpath-dentures-teeth/

And Trinity serves "meager portions of inedible food":

https://theappeal.org/clayton-county-jail-sheriff-election/

When prison commissaries gouge on food, no part of the inventory is spared, even the cheapest items. In Florida, a packet of ramen costs $1.06, 300% more inside the prison than it does at the Target down the street:

https://www.documentcloud.org/documents/24444312-fl_doc_combined_commissary_lists#document/p6/a2444049

America's prisoners aren't just hungry, they're also hot. The climate emergency is sending temperatures in America's largely un-air-conditioned prisons soaring to dangerous levels. Commissaries capitalize on this, too: an 8" fan costs $40 in Delaware's Sussex Correctional Institution. In Georgia, that fan goes for $32 (but prisoners are not paid for their labor in Georgia pens). And in scorching Texas, the commissary raised the price of water by 50% last summer:

https://www.tpr.org/criminal-justice/2023-07-20/texas-charges-prisoners-50-more-for-water-for-as-heat-wave-continues

Toiletries are also sold at prices that would make an airport gift-shop blush. Need denture adhesive? That's $12.28 in an Idaho pen, triple the retail price. 15% of America's prisoners are over 55. The Keefe Group – sister company to the "grossly inadequate" healthcare company Wellpath – operates that commissary. In Oregon, the commissary charges a 200% markup on hearing-aid batteries. Vermont charges a 500% markup on reading glasses. Imagine spending decades in prison: toothless, blind, and deaf.

Then there's the religious items. Bibles and Christmas cards are surprisingly reasonable, but a Qaran will run you $26 in Vermont, where a Bible is a mere $4.55. Kufi caps – which cost $3 or less in the free world – go for $12 in Indiana prisons. A Virginia prisoner needs to work for 8 hours to earn enough to buy a commissary Ramadan card (you can buy a Christmas card after three hours' labor).

Prison price-gougers are finally facing a comeuppance. California's new BASIC Act caps prison commissary markups at 35% (California commissaries used to charge 63-200% markups):

https://theappeal.org/price-gouging-in-california-prisons-newsom-signature/

Last year, Nevada banned any markup on hygiene items:

https://www.leg.state.nv.us/App/NELIS/REL/82nd2023/Bill/10425/Overview

And prison tech monopolist Securus has been driven to the brink of bankruptcy, thanks to the activism of Worth Rises and its coalition partners:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/08/money-talks/

When someone tells you who they are, believe them the first time. Prisons show us how businesses would treat us if they could get away with it.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/20/captive-market/#locked-in

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allthecanadianpolitics · 9 months

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Some recent COVID-19 news

Growing Concern for back to school as data shows rising COVID cases in B.C.

A grassroots group of health professionals are calling for British Columbia to reinstate mask mandates in schools and hospitals to prevent a repeat “tripledemic” of COVID-19, RSV and influenza infections that pushed the province’s hospitals to the brink last fall.

And with data showing rising COVID-19 cases in B.C. and two new viral subvariants on the horizon, Protect Our Province B.C. says the province should act sooner rather than later.

The group is composed of more than a dozen doctors, nurses, researchers, teachers and professionals who advocate for evidence-based pandemic policies.

“We know from last year kids and schools were hit hard and if the goal is to keep kids learning in school we need to do what we can to prevent virus spread this fall,” said Dr. Lyne Filiatrault, a retired emergency room physician in Vancouver and a member of the group.

COVID response confounds SARS expert

As COVID-19 surges globally, a leading infectious disease specialist is confounded by the lack of pandemic mitigation measures in Ontario.

Q: What is your advice for people who want to stay safe this fall?

Dr. Dick Zoutman: “One is to be informed. I do recommend Dr. Tara Moriarty’s website — COVID19resources.ca,” Zoutman said. “We owe her a large debt.”

Second, when the latest COVID-19 vaccine is available, “get it,” he recommended.

Third, “buy N95 respirators and make sure you have plenty and have one with you all the time. And when you go into an indoor public space — be it a hospital, a bank, a grocery store, school — put it on. The best ones are the ones that go around your head, because they’re tighter.”

Fourth, antigen rapid tests must be made widely available. “If you have any symptoms, you need to test and isolate yourself.”

Finally, avoid indoor public places this fall, he said. “I haven’t eaten in a restaurant in almost four years, and I don’t intend to.”

#cdnpoli #canada #canadian politics #canadian news #canadian

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not-quite-normal · 11 months

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If it were possible, could you tell me what it's like to pay fees and be an animator? Can you get paid well or suffocate? And do you only work when you have a project? So it's over and you need to have money saved? If you could, could you talk from when you were a junior to the present$? I am concerned about how underpaid we artists are in the world at large. So having a perception of someone older and who has been through things can help me to expand and deal with this insecurity. Taking advantage of this, a second question, do you think the market in france is as good as in canada and the usa? Because I know that the work centers are more there than in Europe, so would you have an opinion on or recommend a channel or article about?

this is a bigger conversation than i think i have the ability to answer myself haha but i can provide my personal experience and some of what i've heard from others. i'm also going to speak strictly as a 3D animator, not a storyboard/design/other artist. people are absolutely able to live well as animators, though it can take some time and luck to get there. but with more and more studios unionizing, wage negotiations may be easier in the future to climb the wage ladder more quickly. LOTS of people feel very stuck where they are living paycheck to paycheck working in anim because of studios that are unwilling to negotiate better wages or pay OT (tv studios are the worst at this, but feature studios are guilty too) so a lot of it unfortunately depends on your negotiation skills

i started on $600/wk when i got my first job in 3D animation in 2010. it went up slightly with each new contract since then. my biggest raise i got was actually VERY recently when i became a lead on spiderverse. school was relatively cheap for me (the animation course at capilano university was something like $8k for the whole 2 years) so i don't have any student debt. i also lived with my parents for several years while i worked and saved money. after 8 years in tv and now 5 years at sony, i'm getting paid enough to live comfortably on my own in downtown vancouver and take long vacations between movies

animation work is mostly contract based, so your pay ends when your contract does. i went on employment insurance once when i was in between contracts, but other than that i've been able to keep pretty steady work and have never felt the need to leave vancouver. lots of people hop from studio to studio as a way of getting a higher wage more quickly

i'm afraid i don't know really anything about the animation industry in europe, sorry! here's a helpful anonymous wage form that the saltyanimators insta put together: https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1hLki-RUHJXgYj_RJKWlwUXfrWUWEi9yIcyLzEifxYrY/edit#gid=143902278 you can filter it by location to find how much folks are getting paid in europe

#asks #animation question

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cadencejames87 · 1 year

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Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Stark Reader

Summary: You help Bucky with his nightmares.

Honestly, if you read this, I apologize. It's basically word vomit that could have been trimmed. I focused on areas that didn't need to be focused on and glossed over bits that could have been more in-depth; my brain is all over the place these days.

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: House fire, death of a parent, PTSD, talks of trauma, hostage, abuse, sad Bucky, sorry if i missed any

*not beta'd thus any and all mistakes are my own*

~Dividers within story by @firefly-graphics~

"You should have seen his face," Clint mimicked the dumbfounded expression that wavered heavily on Tony's ordinarily know-it-all smug mug when he wandered into Clint's safe house not too long ago. "And all this time he's been hiding you from all of us." Clint sets down a large bowl of popcorn and falls onto the couch with the rest of the team, minus Cap and his wingmen, currently on their way back from an extended mission.

Tony wasn't absent in your life, though he wasn't really present either. You were a surprise after a one-night stand with a pretty face changed his life.

Your mother was a nursing student, waiting tables at night. She enjoyed that most nights were quiet enough to sneak in studies. At least they were until an extremely intoxicated Tony Stark stumbled into her diner seeking shelter from the rain, cover from the paparazzi, and a burger with a side of fries to soak up the alcohol.

You could call it love at first sight since he stopped in every night after until she finally agreed to a date. Your mother knew he was a playboy, nothing near marriage material when they met, yet, a girl could dream. Maybe she might be the one to change his ways. She quickly learned how much the man needed to grow up, and those fantasies soon died, but not before she was pregnant with you.

Though your mother refused to jump into a relationship because of one hurdle, which Tony had been slightly relieved to hear, she accepted his need to be a part of your life. No way would she deny that from either of you. He had been nothing but wonderful to her from the moment they met. He was simply not the right fit at this time, and if they would never be anything more than co-parents, she could not have asked for a better partner in raising you.

Of course, Tony being the man he is, tried to pay for her schooling, debts, and even rent when she found her dream space, for a steal, in the heart of Soho. She would never know it was all his doing. He had bought the brand-new building originally advertised as potential office space, had the interior quickly remodelled, and slipped a flyer into one of her books. He even personally screened each and every one of her neighbours and kept the best unit open, denying all who applied until he saw her name on the list.

She rejected his help in her personal finances, though when it came to you, she planned to do everything 50/50. Naturally, he completely squashed that plan, whether it was pettiness or pride, the moment you took your first breath, he was there 100% for you. He covered medical and dental, paid for the finest education, and spoiled you with toys, clothes and whatever else he could think of, despite your mother's objections over lack of space. His presence in your life wasn't just money; he wanted to be there for every school play, graduation, and birthday, even if it meant sending Happy with a camcorder when he was otherwise engaged. He saved all the videos of every milestone, your art projects, and pictures as you grew up.

When it came to college, he set you up with your own downtown apartment in Vancouver, Canada, after receiving a scholarship to one of the top film schools. {Which you turned down so they could offer it to someone in need and kept that little secret between you and your father.} You graduated after a two-year program and chose to continue your education at Stanford. Tony happily helped you relocate. He was so proud of you for going after what you wanted and knocking it out of the park by getting into another top school. He paid the tuition in full and even bought you a car, despite telling him you could take transit if needed. I mean, you did live within walking distance of campus. Anyway, the years flew by, and you graduated with a major in astrophysics and made your way back home to NYC, where you picked up a job as a barista, refusing any more handouts while searching for a more permanent job that fit either of your studies without your father's influence. You wanted to prove you could make it on your own.

After the attack on New York, Tony started rethinking everything. He wanted to keep you safe, which meant protecting the world from more attacks. Maybe he would convince you to work in Stark Tower or a new building he could have built overnight. He also began re-evaluating his current relationship with your mother. Was there hope to rekindle what could have been? A near-death experience will do that to a man. He was finally ready to quit his partying ways and take things more seriously, and all of this over Shawarma with the team.

As he flew over Washington Square Park down Broadway, he could already see the dark clouds of smoke filling Soho. Sirens of fire rescue ring out as people run for safety, shouting about an explosion, bombs, and aliens. Stark makes it through the thick smoke and fights through the flames of your mother's building, searching desperately for her. He finds her in the bathtub, covered in a wet towel, choking on the smoke. Against Friday's advice, Tony removes his suit, places her inside, and sends her out the window.

He scrambles back through the apartment to find the entrance blocked by debris. He searches blindly for the window to the fire escape and breaks out, basically falling down the steps as he scrambles to his escape. As he drops the last couple of feet to the pavement below the fire escape ladder, he searches the street filled with emergency vehicles and first responders. He spots your mother on a gurney receiving oxygen, climbs to his feet and hurries over with a faint limp. The EMT nursing her burns gives him a grim look. “We have to transport her immediately. It doesn’t look good.”

“Well, what’s the holdup?” Tony helps load the gurney and climbs in, taking her hand in his. “Hey, sweetheart. We’re going to get you help, okay? You are so strong! Just hold on a little longer, for our daughter; for me. I love you.” He brushes her hair with his hand and kisses her forehead softly.

“Tony?” She pulls her oxygen mask down to speak. “Take care of our girl,” she breaks into a coughing fit, and the EMT jumps into action, pushing Tony aside to suction mucus and intubate. Tony watches on, eyes filling with tears, feeling helpless as the mother of his daughter, the woman he loves, fights to breathe. The EMT keeps an eye on all the monitors as he pumps air manually into her lungs. When the heart monitor flat lines, Tony feels his own heart stop. He can’t seem to breathe, there's a ringing in his ears. The EMT yells at Tony to take over so he can start compressions.

After your mother’s funeral, you distanced yourself. Tony figured it was probably for the best. How could he keep you safe if his enemies ever figured out who you were to him? The building you grew up in had only been a target as it was a property owned by Stark.

Unfortunately, some enemies were closer than he realized. They knew of you and your mother and why her death hit him so hard that even those closest to him struggled to keep him sober. You were grateful he had Pepper when you disappeared while he was still mourning. However, you didn’t know it until Cap carried your limp body from a room he had seen before, a replica of one he dragged his best friend from before losing him on a mission. He blamed himself for years after for roping Bucky back into the fight. Learning what really happened when they were reunited did nothing for the guilt.

Once Tony finished clearing the building and made it on the jet, you told him you did not want to go home or to the tower, expressing your fear those who took you would know that is where you would be. You needed space and time. Tony understood that, yet his need to keep you safe outweighed everything else. He settled you into a room at the new compound, freshly reconstructed from the old Stark Industries warehouses. You witnessed the evolving relationship between Tony and Pepper as Stark Tower was gradually moved into the new facility before the Avengers would call it home. You loved the impact Pepper had on your father, and seeing him in this new light, taking on more responsibilities, with a newfound passion for his work and the positive changes saving people had created in his demeanour.

It was possible his over joyous personality was in reaction to finally having you home after being gone for three years and presumed dead right after losing your mother. You hated to ruin it, yet you failed to feel comfortable enough to speak about what you went through to anyone, not a therapist, Happy, or your father, who used to be one of your best friends, other than your mother. Ultimately, you decided to distance yourself further from this new life he had built. Whether it was the fear of falling victim again to one of his enemies or just the space and time you needed; without Tony encroaching. He gave you what you needed and set you up in a cabin in the countryside of upstate New York. Naturally, the whole proximity was wired with motion sensors and hidden cameras and had a few suits as security measures stowed in the garage.

Tony still popped in occasionally to catch you up on Avenger gossip, including the falling out with Steve, who you kept in touch with over text. You understood both sides, though if you were to choose whose back you would have, it would be the man used as a weapon, held hostage and tortured for years.

They were unprepared to lose you again so soon when Thanos snapped away everything he fought mercilessly to defend. Though, Tony wouldn't know for sure if you had been victim to the snap for nearly a month after. So when he finally got you back, he promised to hold on tight. You had a new sister and finally sat down to thank Pepper for being there for your father and being just what he needed to keep going all these years.

You all stayed together in the cabin, though you migrated to the studio above the garage, where you often escaped to craft dreamcatchers; a craft you learned in your early childhood from your mother who had learned from her mother. Your studio sessions started with one for yourself when you struggled to sleep before the snap, and another for Tony, when he opened up about his anxiety after you returned. Then one for Morgan, when you caught her admiring one hung in a studio window. One your mother crafted, kept safe in your Chelsea apartment when the fire wiped away everything, pictures, baby clothes, art, report cards, your mother's memories of a life before you, and dreamcatchers she made every year of your life; even the ones you crafted alongside her. After a short conversation with Pepper over tea under the stars, in which she complimented the beauty of your dream catchers and what a shame it was that more people couldn't enjoy them, you made over two dozen more for a farmer’s market.

Tony popped into the studio for his daily chit-chat, wandering the room and appreciating the collection of dreamcatchers hanging all over. “Word on the street is the Capsicle is planning on jumping ship again after this mission.” You had been the one to convince him to stay when no one else could, not even his best friend. Though you had your suspicions, he never really tried, and you planned to ask him when you finally met him.

Now you are sitting in the Avengers compound, getting to know the team and waiting on the man of the hour. Except when he finally walks in with his team, your attention falls to the brunette on his flank. Something about him seemed so familiar, his face, those eyes, that walk. Had you seen it all somewhere before? I mean, you knew of the man from stories and history lessons. In more recent years, the news and Tony's personal ghost stories. Also, Steve had come to visit, the only Avenger who knew of your existence, and of course, he shared a few memories from both the past and present of Sergeant Barnes. He said Tony might be a little indifferent, less sympathetic than he should be, considering their history. He only wanted to give you a chance to hear how he saw him, and when the day came, you could form your own opinion.

As far as first impressions go, he has yet to say hi, and you are drooling over this God of a man. Nope, no, down girl! You take a moment to glance around the room, hoping no one noticed your internal freak out just then. When your eyes return to James, he freezes. He looks at his friend for help, but Steve obliviously continues on as Bucky searches for an escape. He swallows, eyes falling to the floor as he backs away, glancing up with sad eyes once more before turning back the way he came. What the hell was that? “Y/N, I’m sorry about the outfit. I wanted to come and say hi as soon as we touched down. This is Sam.”

Sam smiles flirtatiously, takes your hand, and bows to kiss it. “Down, birdman! That’s Stark’s daughter.” Banner warns.

Sam backs away, hands up in surrender as Tony stares him down. You smile politely and look back to the empty hall. “I was only saying, hi. Besides, I think Cap’s already called dibs with how much he gushes over her.”

“You realize I’m right here.” Stark questions Sam, who immediately mimes zipping his mouth closed and tossing away an invisible key.

“I’m sorry about him. He was raised in a different time.” You turn back to find Steve giving you a shy smile. “And what he said, I never—”

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it, Steve.” Your eyes move to the hall again.

“Oh, and this is…” Steve finally realizes Bucky is no longer with them. “Well, if you saw him, that was Bucky. I promise he is the sweetest person you will ever meet. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

“Not even his own face.” Steve shoots Sam a look. “You know what I'm talking about. That staring thing he does. Where it looks like he wants to kill you.” He turns to the others in the room as he searches for backup, quickly finding it as Nat shrugs and nods back. Steve gives them both a look of disapproval.

"Alright, that's enough. You're going to kill Grandpa.” Tony jokes as he pushes through the group to meet Scott and his tray of milkshakes. “The burgers?”

“Almost done, Mr. Stark. Thanks again for inviting me.” Scott sets the tray on the coffee table and rushes back to the kitchen, wiping his hands on his frilly apron.

"Was that Ant-Man?" You ask in confusion.

"Don't worry, he's getting paid." Tony looks over at Banner and shakes his head.

"Dad?!"

"The point is, he is enjoying himself, and he offered."

After the brief intros, Sam and Steve excused themselves to unload the jet, write their mission reports and freshen up before dinner. When they returned, Bucky was still nowhere to be seen. “Don’t take it personally. He gets in these grumpy old man moods after missions. You’ll meet him soon.” Nat settles in next to you before Steve has a chance.

“I’m not –”

“You were obviously keeping an eye out for Barnes. It's totally fine. You should know he and Sam are in your wing.” You turn quickly, brows furrowed. “It used to be Steve, Clint and myself and one empty room. Well, not empty. It was decorated and off limits, and now we know why.”

“Where did you go?”

“Clint’s not here as often as he used to be, so when Sam joined, he moved to one of the loft spaces on the upper floors. Then we found Barnes, and I gave up my space when he moved in, thought it would be an easier transition after everything.”

You stayed up as long as you could with everyone, but you were pretty tired after a long day of driving, and the anxiety of just being back in the city was exhausting. You slipped out of the room as everyone watched their second movie of the night after dinner and wandered the halls.

As you approached your room, a terrifying sound had you spinning fast and your most traumatic memories flooding back. Memories you had repressed. It was an all too familiar scream. One filled with anguish and fear. You stood frozen against the wall next to your room, staring wide-eyed at the door across from yours. The screams echoed in your memory as they faded in reality and turned into soft whimpers. You felt your trembling legs step forward before you could stop yourself. You took a deep breath and leaned gently against the door, listening.

You heard shuffling and then footsteps, pacing back and forth and suddenly growing louder as they came closer. You scrambled back and tried to flee into the safety of your room, but your back hit the wall again, and you stared up at Bucky as he stepped into the hallway. The much smaller than you remembered a second ago, hallway. “Sorry."

"I didn’t mean to scare you.” His eyes avoid yours as he escapes to the common area down the hall with his head hanging low. You hear the kitchen sink turn on and water filling a glass. Your heart rate finally returns to normal, as you let out the breath you had been holding. You scold yourself and turn to your room, dragging yourself to bed.

The following weeks went on with Bucky avoiding you while you continued to get to know the team. Your sleep schedule was thrown off completely, waking each night to Bucky's screams, mind racing with your own traumas while wanting so desperately to reach out and comfort him. You never did, of course, instead, you kept your distance and gave him his space. When you woke in the middle of the night, you turned to your dreamcatchers.

Meanwhile, for the ex-assassin, most nights were filled with cold showers and sitting alone in the dark with his thoughts, shivering; like he was punishing himself. Other nights, he would find himself in the training room, lifting weights and doing pull-ups until his muscles screamed. And some nights, Steve would keep him company and remind him there was no way he would have done any of the things Hydra made him do without being tortured and lied to. It wasn’t really what he wanted to hear or could even believe, no matter how many times anyone told him. Those nights usually ended with an early morning run.

He still remembers his years with Hydra vividly, the terrified cries and screams, titanium wrapped tightly around innocent throats, lifeless eyes, blood, so much blood, fire, gunshots, explosions. He was hyperventilating when you walked into the common area. Having a full-on panic attack as he stared at his hands, shaking, and mumbling, “It was still me. It was still me. It was still me.”

“Bucky?” You approach him slowly, unsure if you were being cautious for his sake or yours. You clear your throat, ”James?”

He freezes slightly, eyes watching from the corner, trained on your feet as you round the couch. He presses his back further into the sofa behind him, hands gripping the floor beneath him for purchase.

You pause at the corner, looking down at the broken man on the floor. “I am James Buchanan Barnes. Sergeant with the 107th, 32557038. I am James Buchanan Barnes.” You slowly kneel next to him. His rambling fades lower. “3255…” His eyes dart to you and back at the floor. “70…” You scoot a little closer. “38.” He wills himself to look at you. “I’m sorry,” his whisper comes out shaky, eyes filled with tears. “I’m so sorry.” You shake your head and pull him into a tight hug. He clutches onto your shirt and cries into your chest. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“Shhh, it’s okay.” You rub his back.

“They made me take you.”

You brush your fingers through his hair. “I know.”

He pulls away to look you in the eyes. “I’m sorry.”

You wipe his tears. “I forgive you.” He breaks again, this time though, it is relief that fills his eyes before he buries it back into your shoulder and holds onto you for dear life. He cries himself to sleep, and you continue to hold on, leaning your cheek on the top of his head.

Sam and Steve enter the kitchen in need of water, Sam panting as he downs his glass. Steve smiles at his friend as he leisurely sips his own. Steve opens his mouth to poke fun at Sam’s endurance when a deep sleep-filled breath grabs their attention. “I got him, I’m sure you need a moment to catch your breath,” Sam says sarcastically and sets his glass in the sink before crossing to the living area.

Steve lets out a soft chuckle. “I could use a shower,” he shrugs.

“Steve.” Sam stares down at the two of you still wrapped in each other’s arms, though you are now snuggled into Bucky's chest as he leans into the corner of the sectional, protectively holding onto you. “Sorry, man,” Sam apologizes to Steve as he joins him.

"It's like our childhood all over again."

"Maybe there's a reasonable explanation for this."

"Either way, Tony's not going to like it," Steve says with a shake of his head.

"Not going to like what?" It comes out in a raspy whisper as you stretch and look back at the men over your shoulder. They stand in shock, unsure how to proceed. You look around, realizing where you are and then look at the man beneath you. "Oh, right." You quickly get up, "Let's just not tell Tony." You push past both men as you make a mad dash for your room, hiding your face as it burns with embarrassment.

Bucky startles awake with the slam of your door. He lets out an exasperated sigh as he climbs to his feet, “I’m not going for a run.”

“Neither are we.” They keep a close eye on him as he crosses to the kitchen.

“You know I could have killed you, standing over a guy as he sleeps, lucky I wasn't armed," he mumbles. "What’s wrong with you?” He grumbles as he grabs himself a protein bar from the cupboard.

“I have the same question for you. Your best friend pines over a girl for years, and we find you wrapped up in an embrace, sleeping with the woman of his dreams out in the open.”

“Seriously?” Steve stares at Sam like he revealed his deepest secret.

“It’s not like she’s in the room, man.”

“We’re not sleeping together, and it wasn’t a romantic embrace or any other kind of embrace. We were... She--" He lets out a frustrated groan. "Never mind, you wouldn’t understand.” Bucky exits the room before they can say anything more.

Sam turns to Steve, still staring at him. “What?! Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Maybe we read into it.”

The following night Steve woke with Bucky, and instead of sitting with him in the living room, he suggested they hit the gym.

You turned to your dream catchers, the newest wrapped in black suede, weaved with black sinew and gold beads. It was time to add feathers, and you couldn’t decide if you should add navy blue and red or even gold to the bunch of black feathers you had already carefully selected.

“I can’t do this anymore. I need a shower.” Bucky turns to leave.

“Come on, Buck.”

“No, you want to talk, let's talk. Stop pretending this is anything more than that.”

“Bucky, I’m just trying to help.”

"No, you're upset with what you saw yesterday and I know, I heard you and Sam talking, if Tony would have walked in, I wouldn't have woken up." He grabs a towel from the bench. “Maybe it would have been for the best. None of this changes anything.” He storms out and returns to his room, though just as he steps into the hallway, he is hit with a fond memory. One of hardly any he has of his time with Hydra, he leans into the memory, drawn closer to your soft, melodic humming.

You lay on your back in the tall grass, watching a meteor shower. “You know you’ll get in trouble if they find out.”

“Their torture is better than hearing you go on and on for weeks on end about a bunch of stardust,” he grumbles from his perch behind you on the back of a quad. Successfully masking the fact he enjoyed your company and the show in the sky.

“That’s not true,” you whisper, “you forget they have me observe and—” You sit up, hugging yourself. “I know you have nightmares.”

He snaps a branch he had been absentmindedly fiddling with. “We should head back.”

You quickly turn around on your knees, “No, please. I don’t want to go back, not yet.” You spot the discarded branch and pick it up. “I can make you something. It will help with your nightmares.” Your chin quivers as you fight to hold back your tears.

He checks over his shoulder, sighing heavily when he turns back and gives you a quick nod.

You take the lantern next to Bucky and comb the beach for materials, Bucky sticking close to your side. You find plenty of feathers scattered along the pebbles and grass. You kneel on the ground in your tattered skirt, wincing as the varying rocks and debris dig into your skin. “What are you doing?” You look up, studying the man above you for a moment, and then you return to the pebbles, “I need one last thing. Do you see these bits of colour? It’s sea glass. I love these pretty blue ones, my favourite colour.” You hold up a small piece of glass the same colour as his eyes.

He catches the blush tinting your cheeks before you can hide your face and kneels beside you on one knee. “How many do you need?”

“I need one red one, but it has to be at least this big.” You hold up your thumb and forefinger about the size of a dime. “It’s the most important piece.” Bucky sweeps a hand through the pebbles and helps you search. “You keep looking, I’ll get this started.” You tuck the feathers into your sleeve as you pick at a loose thread on your skirt. In spite of your careful movements, the thread breaks, and yet you continue to collect more. When you finally gathered what you needed, there was a wide slit into your skirt. You knot the ends together, blow out the candle in the lantern, and dip the material into the wax.

“Are you done?” Bucky feigns annoyance as he relights the lantern and moves it closer to himself, a safe distance from you.

You let out a quiet giggle. “Two questions, do you trust me? And can I borrow a couple of things?” You cautiously reach for the tact knife on his thigh. Bucky eyes your hand and readjusts his position, pushing his thigh into your palm as he rakes his fingers through the pebbles again, seeking a suitable piece of sea glass. “I don’t understand why you need all of these straps,” you take hold of one of the offending straps on his tact suit and bring up the knife. You look at him for consent. His jaw clenches as he gives you the same quick nod he did when he agreed to stay longer. Watching you from the corner of his eye as you gently cut through the leather strap and unfasten the other end. “I need one more.” He gives you better access and you repeat your actions as he returns to his search. When you finish with his knife, you place it back in the sheath and gather all your materials.

You wander back to your spot in the grass, humming a tune and get to work. Picking up the discarded branches, you braid them, form a circle, and tie the ends together with the waxed thread. You wrap the branches with the leather straps and begin to weave a web within the circle of wrapped branches with the waxed thread already attached. Bucky makes his way back to you, keeping quiet so as not to disturb you. “Did you find it?” He holds out a perfect piece of sea glass, larger than a dime, maybe even a nickel. Your smile fills him with warmth, and he struggles to hide the twitch of his lip. You'll never know he found plenty of red bits that he deemed unsuitable. Whatever piece he found needed to be perfect, like you in his eyes.

Clearing his throat, he stands and returns to his perch on the back of the quad, taking out his tact knife to pass the time. You wrap the sea glass into the final weaves, knotting the end in the web and securing the sea glass a little more until you run out of thread. You let out a huff as you hold out the dream catcher. “It’s not the greatest, but, it should do.”

Bucky takes the dream catcher, admiring the finished product. “What do I do with it?”

“Smuggle it back in and hang it by your bed.”

“They won’t let me keep it.”

“Hide it under your pillow?” You shrug.

“What about here?” He opens his jacket and tucks the dreamcatcher close to his heart.

“Well, I guess the straps are good for something.” You smirk.

“You can come inside if you like.” You heard him, thought he would return to his room, but his footsteps slowed and altogether stopped between your rooms.

“I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“You’re not.”

“Did you make all these?” You nod. “Gorgeous.” His fingers brush the feathers attached to one of the dream catchers. “Softer than mine.”

“You remember it?”

“It gave me hope,” he moved to your bed and sat down. “When I helped you escape, left you at that facility,” he swallows a lump in his throat. “They stripped me down to wipe me, found it in my gear. They took it and burned it in front of me.” His eyes filled with tears. “I used to look at it every night. Hid it under my pillow, like you said. Carried it with me everywhere.”

“Did it help?”

He nods. "It reminded me of you. A bright light in all that darkness.”

You turn back to your desk, pick up the dream catcher you were working on, and join Bucky on the end of your bed. ”I didn’t think you made it out of there with the other.” You hand him the new dream catcher, inspired by his new arm, the black and navy-blue feathers hung with gold sinew and red beads to tie in his new tact suit. “And you can actually hang this one without fear of anyone confiscating it.”

The tears fall freely as he accepts the gift. He tries to give you a smile, sniffles and wipes away the tears with the back of his hand. “Thank you.”

You pull him in for a hug. “I can make you a small one for your keys that you can carry everywhere.”

“I won’t need it, I’ve got you.”

“Do you now?”

“I’ve also got this.” He removes a small object from his pocket, the sea glass he found. He takes your hand and places it inside. “It’s not blue.”

“This one is more special. You found it.”

"For you."

You turn the glass over in your hand. "Did you know that penguins search for the perfect pebble to gift to their love?" You turn to kiss him softly, you meant to aim for his cheek, and he looked up last minute. When you pull away, he follows and deepens the kiss.

Steve lifts his hand to knock on your door, pausing when a soft moan escapes your lips. “James.” His heart breaks as he tears himself away from your door. I guess his best friend is willing to risk it all for you, and this moment is what solidifies his choice to go back in time.

#bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers #captain america #Bucky Barnes #sergeant barnes #the winter soldier #y/n stark #tony stark #tony starks daughter #bucky barnes x stark!reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #indigenous creators #sebastian stan #sebastian stan fic

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spnscripthunt · 8 months

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For every $10 you donate to RIP Medical Debt, you will 1) be erasing about $1,000 in medical debt and 2) be entered in a raffle to win one of the items listed below. The more total donations we receive, the more scripts will be made available as prizes.

DONATE HERE

ENTER RAFFLE HERE

When donations reach $1000 total, we'll add:

3.06 'Red Sky at Morning' - Production Draft signed by Rob Benedict at Creation Tour: Minneapolis 2023. Includes 3.05 'Bedtime Stories' - 2nd Unit Call Sheet & Sides.

Set: 4.11 'Family Remains' - Yellow Collated (REPRO); The X-Files 4.03 'Home' - Blue-Pages and Pink-Pages. Set inspired by an old interview where Kripke said of 'Family Remains,' "You know, we want an episode like X-Files 'Home.' Like let's make an episode that the network will air once and people will complain so much they'll never air it again."

11.07 'Plush' - 8 Days of Call Sheets and Script Sides (complete script). Day 4 call sheet signed by Nate Torrence at Salute to Supernatural: Washington, D.C. 2022; Day 2 call sheet signed by Jared Padalecki at Creation Tour: Washington, D.C. 2023.

12.03 'The Foundry' - Blue Draft signed by Mark Sheppard at Salute to Supernatural: Vancouver 2023; Misha Collins at Jus in Bello 11 (Rome).

15.05 'Proverbs 17:3' - Production Draft signed by director Richard Speight Jr. at Creation Tour: Dallas 2023.

Set: Walker - 'Pilot' - Network Draft (REPRO) signed by Jake Abel, Keegan Allen, Jared Padalecki, Jeff Pierre, and Mitch Pileggi at Creation Tour: Chicago 2023, Richard Speight Jr. at Creation Tour: Washington, D.C. 2023; Walker: Independence - 'Pilot' - Revised Network Draft (REPRO) signed by Philemon Chambers at Creation Tour: Washington, D.C. 2023.

Gotham Knights - 'Pilot' - Pre-Production Draft (REPRO) signed by Misha Collins at Creation Tour: Washington, D.C. 2023.

FULL LIST OF PRIZES AND FINE PRINT HERE

Raffle closes November 5, 2023 at 11:59pm (EST)

#one last fundraiser #rip medical debt #let's kick it in the ass #admin: lets-steal-an-archive #supernatural #the x files #cw walker #walker independence #misha collins #mark sheppard #jared padalecki #mitch pileggi #richard speight jr #rob benedict #jake abel #jeff pierre #keegan allen #philemon chambers #nate torrence

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socially-awkward-skeleton · 4 days

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This isn’t really a request, but what are some headcanons either for COD characters or Far Cry 5 characters that you love? And what’s your favorite piece of lore about your OCs?

Also I love your fics so much, WHERE did you learn to write like that

First of all, OH MY GOD THANK YOU SO MUCH!! 💜💜💜💜. The way this ask made my whole week and the compliment on top of it, consider me forever in your debt.

I have been writing stories since I was 4, read books and watched movies voraciously that were way out of my age range and thus my brain chemistry was forever rewired to be a bit strange to answer the last question lol

My headcanons are usually pretty boring in the grand scheme and relate back to my ocs a lot and how they interact with the verse, but here's some general ones:

fc5:

- Faith and Tracey are lesbian ex-gfs, true in my heart

- Staci Pratt would be the type of guy to have a mirror hanging on the ceiling above his bed

- as far as i'm concerned, God is real in the world of FC5 (but also yes there is A LOT of mental illness and trauma going on)

- the mystery meat served in Jacob's cages is 100% grade A people who failed the trials

cod (or more accurately a few of my Captain Price hcs):

- Price is from Liverpool -- idc if he's not, he is (thank you Mr. Sloane for your wonderful voice and Scouser accent)

- Price grew up working class, single mom, military family, dad died in combat, joins up at 16 to honor his father and grandfather (*this is 100% a personal hc)

-Price is the type of guy to know the difference between scotch, whiskey and whisky and will come down on your ass if you try and pass one off as the other

Favorite OC lore:

Kit - Bliss has the opposite effect on her. Basically results in a bad trip every time if someone isn't guiding her through it (guess she shouldn't have gotten rid of Faith)

Rory - forgot to mention this in the oc name post for her before, but her last name is a direct reference to Sinclair Centre, which is a heritage building in Vancouver, BC (my hometown and hers, she may or may not be my most self insert-y of OCs)

#thank you again for this lovely ask <3 #skelly answers #nice asks #oc asks #oc: kit cross #oc: rory sinclair

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its-deandraa · 5 months

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My 2023 Recap!!

January:

▫️got a 2nd job that’s a WFH job!

▫️went to the library

▫️139 day streak for duo French!

Febuary:

▫️actually started my new job!

▫️read 3 books! (The first three in Shadow and Bone series!)

▫️169 days for my French streak!

▫️went to the library more!

March:

▫️made some yearly goals

▫️189 French streak!

▫️started new workout plan!

▫️started my Saturn Return 🪐

▫️learned how to use printer at the library! (Game changer for me!)

▫️got a new hairdresser and haircut!

April:

▫️216 for French streak!

▫️follow up for anxiety program referral.

▫️continued workout plan!

▫️finished reading another book!

▫️started paint-by-number

▫️started growing cucumbers!

May:

▫️wrote my resignation letter for my first job.

▫️quit one of my jobs!

▫️went to a surprise party!

▫️finished majority of my YT script

▫️244 for French streak!

▫️survived a cold

▫️bought gel plate for art

▫️got $20 for completing surveys

▫️bought a backdrop + tripod

June:

▫️had fun at one of my friends b-day party!

▫️worked my last day at my first job.

▫️made some art with the gel plate!

▫️another $20 for doing surveys

▫️spending a lot less on transportation and ordering out because of my job.

▫️worked more hours at my WFH job.

▫️269 french streak!

▫️bought the book “the Artists way”

▫️cooking more!

▫️found a scam in my bank account!

July:

▫️still growing tomatoes and cucumbers!

▫️continued workout plan!

▫️cooking and making food more!

▫️deleted my Flo app to track more on paper!

▫️saving more money!

▫️saw the Barbie movie with some friends!

▫️bought BEYONCÉ tickets and planned a whole trip!

▫️290 for french streak!

August:

▫️finally got reimbursed for the scam in my bank account

▫️planned my outfit for the RENAISSANCE TOUR! (Are you ready?! SHAWHAM!)

▫️finished a sewing project

▫️did a mini photoshoot for my sewing project

▫️309 days for french streak

▫️made pasta salad!

▫️got a new phone!

September:

▫️329 french streak!

▫️went to Vancouver by myself!

▫️had an overall successful trip to and from Vancouver!

▫️went to the Blodel conservatory in the van Dusen Gardens in Vancity!

▫️WENT TO BEYONCÉ!!! 🪩

▫️got my picture taken for a CBC article!

▫️got Beyonce merch!

▫️went to the aquarium!

▫️found a real fur scarf at the thrift store!

▫️had a going away party with former co-workers!

▫️finished a journal & started a new one!

▫️had movie night with a friend!

October:

▫️347 French streak!

▫️several Halloween movie night with my friends!

▫️bought two new journals!

▫️bought new headphones from warranty!

▫️bought my own candles and birthday balloons

▫️cleaned out a lot of my Twitter likes and hopefully deleting soon!

▫️got a call from a psychotherapist to determine next steps for therapy.

November:

▫️cleaned out two shelves in my room and reorganized a bunch of stuff!

▫️cleaned/reorganized desk and bought a desk mat!

▫️1 year french streak!

▫️cleaned out mini fridge and tea area!

▫️got a gift card from my work!

▫️got a refund from an Astro reading I didn’t get earlier in the year!

▫️enjoyed Kurtis Conner special! (Damn he’s funny!)

▫️started Christmas shopping!

▫️finished one of my yearly goals which was Reading 10 books!

▫️printed more from library like my workout sheets and debt tracker!

December:

▫️380 days for French streak!

▫️went to see the Renaissance movie!!

▫️finished Christmas shopping!

▫️made a friend a bucket hat!

▫️turned 29!

▫️got myself two bras and a sweater!

▫️found an Oleg Cassini wool skirt set from the 60s at the thrift store!

▫️started holidays with my WFH job!

▫️got some Oh doughnuts for my birthday!

▫️got most of the stuff I wanted/needed for Christmas!

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if-you-fan-a-fire · 1 year

Text

“Technocracy Will Rebuild World,” Vancouver Sun. December 10, 1932. Page 1 & 2. --- 4-HOUR DAY; 4-Day Week; 660 HRS. A YEAR ---- SOCIAL CHANGES URGENT ---- NORTH AMERICA'S GREAT CHANCE --- MORE AMAZING REVELATIONS OF 'THE DAWN OF A NEW ERA' ==== Technocracy declares that North America is equipped today to lead the world into a new era.

"Where man for the first time in his progression from the jungle is the conqueror in the battle for leisure."

Here are its sweeping and tremendous conclusions, as told by Wayne W. Parrish, writing in Alfred E. Smith's magazine, New Outlook.

"Man, in his age-long struggle for leisure and the elimination of toil, has finally arrived at that position where, for the first time, this goal is not only possible, but probable.

"With what is known of technology today in this country, it is now necessary for the adult population, ages 25 to 45, to work but 660 hours per year per individual to produce a standard of living for the entire population ten timer above the average income of 1929."

The downward decline since the fall of 1929 has never once abated, and Technocracy has predicted in no uncertain terms the greatest social wreck of all time unless this decline is halted, or controlled. It is simply the example of an ox-cart driver attempting to pilot an airplane. There is little time to learn to use the controls to avert a crash.

This is no plea for 'social justice,' no scheme for a Utopian realization of the humble rights of all men. It is a necessity. For the first time, in history, as a result of the technological advance we have achieved an economy of plenty in the midst of a hodge-podge of debt and unemployment. The plain fact is that the machine and men cannot both work on a rarity basis any longer. The machine has pushed man out of work. There isn't room for him any more. Instead of being a cause for remorse this should he the most joyful proclamation in history. Let the machine do man's work for him. Let him have leisure. Of course the entire social structure must be changed. Why not? But again, it is not a matter of choice. Technology has brought our present system to its doom. There is no way out except by fundamental revision.

Certain it is that the impact of technology on our price system has proved the futility in the future of stocks, bonds, savings, equities, mortgages and all concomitants of our past system.

This is no mere "business cycle." Technocracy maintains that America is at the close of an era, and the actual ending is dependent only upon the length of time artificial stimulants can be injected. At the best, the time is short. The day of reckoning is growing nearer every week.

While employment has been decreasing the U. S. has increased its debt load to above $218,000,000,000 by shoving present responsibilities off to the future.

Technocracy (energy survey of North. America) is an integration of physics, chemistry, geology, geophysics, thermo-dynamics, zoology, biophysics, biology and physiology.

At the present downward rate we will have 25,000,000 unemployed by 1934.

Technocracy's yardstick, applied to North America, reveals that communism, facism, socialism and other political systems are entirely inadequate to cope with the needs of a new state of civilization.

WHERE IT BEGAN Technocracy began in 1918 with the study by a group of engineers of the advance in machine production during the war. Technocracy foresaw the present unemployment of 14,-000,000 in North America, and foresaw the depression which would accentuate unemployment.

Technocracy began as a study, but it has become "the logical expression for a technological energy state."

It has, says Parrish, earned its place in the history of the human race along with democracy and autocracy. Here in broad terms is the definition:

AUTOCRACY Rule by the individual. DEMOCRACY Rule by the people. TECHNOCRACY Rule by skill or science. It is a tremendous picture Parrish draws. And here are some of the arresting statements in his dynamic and stirring story of "the end of an era."

Here, in the words of Parrish, is how the machine, "the really big technological mechanism that makes entire industries automatic, has changed the whole face of the social complex.

It has now made possible, and necessary, the elimination of much of man's toil.

It has made invalid every old social, political and economic postulate now in use.

It has rendered political systems useless.

It has sounded the death knell of old methods of exchange.

It has shelved permanently the necessity for private enterprise and savings.

It has made sterile the moral concepts of the virtue of labor.

By the pervasive force in changing man's whole outlook upon life, it has opened the way for the greatest release of the no-called human values in history,

It has provided the way for the elimination of individual greed and the enjoyment of leisure by everyone.

Today, says Parrish, the members if Technocracy number 350 and are located in all parts of the world. Only during the last month, the number of otherwise unemployed draughtsmen -and engineers who are doing the research and plotting hundreds of charts has been raised from thirty-six to one hundred.

They are being paid by the Architects' Emergency Relief Committee of New York, and are housed at Columbia by Professor Walter Rautenstrach, who is a member of Technocracy.

INTO THE NEW ERA Man will, as usual, have to adjust himself to the new era, he cannot refute it for long, argues Parrish.

At no previous time, on no other continent, has there existed such a peculiar complex of energy and natural resources as exist on the North American continent. In the words of Howard Scott:

"It is the only continental area of the world's surface manned, equipped and ready to move civilization into the new era where man for the first time in his progression from weakness to conqueror in the battle for leisure.'

"This is no plea for "social justice," no scheme for Utopian realization of the humble rights of all men. It is a necessity.

"For the first time in history as a result of the technological advance we have achieved an economy of plenty in the midst of a hodgepodge of debt and unemployment.

"The plain fact is that the machine and men cannot both work on a parity basis any longer. The machine has pushed men out of work. There isn’t room for him any more. Instead of being a cause for remorse this should be the most joyful proclamation in history. Let the machine do man's work for him. Let him have leisure. Of course the entire social structure must be changed. Why not?

"But again, it is not a matter of choice. Technocracy has brought our present system to its doom. There is no way out except by fundamental revision.

WHY NORTH AMERICA LEADS Then, in a swift survey of the world, Parrish tells why he regards North America as the continent to lead the world out of the old and into the new. And he emphasizes that he speaks of. North America in an economic sense, with no Canada and U. S. boundary involved. He says:

"Russia, with its much-vaunted Communism, is but a slight variation of the American price system when placed under an exacting light. With 92% of its population tillers of the soil, with meagre technical facilities and "more musicians than technologists," as Mr. Scott expresses it, Russia found itself in the position of being compelled to inaugurate an industrial era under a Communistic price system of production with insufficiently developed energy resources and inadequate personnel."

'VALIANT BATTLE' "From the viewpoint of Technocracy, England is fighting a valiant but losing battle. Among the futile gestures which probably will be made will be complete, abandonment of monetary currency and current banking credit, and stringent preferential tariffs and purchasing agreements to lessen the disparity which exists in its international balance of world trade."

"Fascist Italy is in much the same situation. It possesses insufficient water power and almost no Iron, copper, coal, oil and gas, but is offering bonuses to further increase its already dangerous population overload.

"Fascism –“ a last ditch defense of a price system against the oncoming army ef social change," is only able to maintain itself temporarily in Italy by the importations of foreign materials and energy resources for which it is still able to pay.

"Of other nations or continents little needs to be said. Asia is hopeless as far as a high energy civilization is concerned. There aren't the resources available. You can't take more coal out of the ground than is actually there.

"Australia has very few resources. It has almost no opportunity for further development.

"South America is greatly lacking in many essential resources.

"If all Europe were combined into one unified energy state, a high standard of living could be obtained for all the peoples there, but language and nationalism, present almost insurmountable barriers at present.”

"Japan has attempted to operate a highly mechanized society under great handicaps. With limited resources and a high population density, she is reaching out to Manchuria for aid, but there is little there to help her. LONG LIFE PRODUCTS Here are some things Parrish cites as the potential products of technology, which show the necessity of control:

Razor blades which would last a lifetime...

Ramie plant which would outwear and outserve wool or cotton.

An automobile that would go 300,000 miles without an overhaul.

Shoes that would wear two and a half years without repair.

"If the comparatively new fibrous nettle plant, ramie, is introduced to industry (and eventually it will be) the entire wood pulp, silk, wool and cotton industries would be very seriously affected. “Ramie has a 22-inch fibre, can be raised 1,500 pounds to the acre (compared to 450 pounds of cotton) and two or three crops can be obtained in a year in the southern states. There is no problem of pick ng, since it can be cut and bound with a thresher.

"If made into two suits, it wears seven times as well as wool, and several hundred times better than cotton. It has the advantageous property of being stronger when wet than dry. It can be made into paper cheaper than wood pulp and the paper can't be torn by the human hand. It has a lustre similar to silk and linen, can be woven with silk and rayon or wool and cotton, and takes dyes beautifully."

"The technologist is able to produce an automobile that would really be of service. Designs are all complete for a machine that would have a Hickman or a boat-type bottom. Individual wheel suspension, exposed steel parts that would not rust, frictionless bearings throughout, and would have an average life of 300,000 to 350,000 miles without a general overhauling."

SHOES 2/12 YEARS "Shoes? It's the same story over again. The technologists can produce leather today that is waterproof and has a wearing quality that would make an average pair of shoes wear two and a half years. But our shoe industry, running way under capacity as it is, could supply the nation with a ten years' supply of these shoes within a period of eight or ten months. Believe it or not, the shoe industry has a capacity of 900,000,000 shoes per year. Where is the market?"

MANLESS MACHINES And his answer to public works, such as highways, to provide work:

"A machine Is already developed and waiting for a public works market that, with two men operating It per shift, or six men for each twenty-four hours, can tear up an old road or street, lay foundations for pavement, and put on the pavement sixty-feet wide, at the rate of eight miles a day!"

"Keep such developments out? It is impossible under the price system, for a primary requisite of a price system is that production costs be cut, and more efficient machinery. Is the best way to cut costs.

"A factory for the production of rayon yarn is nearing completion in New Jersey. Its operation is entirely mechanical and production can be carried on without a single worker in the plant. By means of photo-electric cells it will be possible for an official In New York to change dyes without leaving his desk and without human assistance at the plant.

"The technological advance of thirty years has now made. It possible for a man to eliminate much of his toil. In doing so it has doomed the entrepreneur and the entire system of selling for price.

"Egypt Assyria, Greece, and Rome led the world in their days. "The past is thick with Empires dust." A new continent is able to take its position in the leadership of the civilization of tomorrow. "Technocracy poses that question."

What Technocracy Means Technocracy has literally burst upon the world. It is the rule of skill or science, the fixing of a higher plane of living, made possible by technology and the machine.

Boys and girls, with their life ahead of them, will read it with an absorbing Interest. It is their hope.

Men and women will see it as the outcome of the condition which they helped to create, and to which the world can now fit itself.

Thousands of copies have been distributed, in compact form, of previous interpretative articles and editorials from The Vancouver Sun on Technocracy. Thousands more have been minted and are available at The Sun Office for all who wish them. Editor.

#vancouver #technocracy #technocratic government #the great depression #planned economy #economic crisis #capitalism in crisis #planisme #government by engineers #useless hands #mechanization #man machine #birth of the technocratic state #politics of chaos #great depression in canada #regulating capitalism

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credit720britishcolumbia · 5 months

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Professional Guidance for Debt Management in Vancouver

Transform your financial landscape with professional guidance for debt management in Vancouver. Achieve lasting stability and peace of mind.

#Consumer Proposal Vancouver #debt consolidation loan Vancouver #no more debts Vancouver

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somaticallyincorrect · 2 months

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if you won the lottery tomorrow what would you do with all that $$$$$

Depends just how much it was honestly. If it was a lot (like $5,000,000+) I'd pay off mine and my families debts. Quit my job and move to Vancouver (potentially buy a house. Even though they're stupidly expensive). Put a solid million into investments of some sort or something like that so I can turn it into more money 😂 Take a year off to just go to shows and travel around. Visit some friends I have in other countries and stuff. Maybe go back to school for something 🤷‍♂️

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mostlysignssomeportents · 1 year

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Hollywood is the single best example of mature labor power in America

This afternoon (May 6), I’ll be in Berkeley at the Bay Area Bookfest for a 3:30PM event with Glynn Washington for my book Red Team Blues; tomorrow (May 7), it’s an 11AM event with Wendy Liu for my book Chokepoint Capitalism.

Weds (May 10), I’m in Vancouver for a keynote at the Open Source Summit and a book event at Heritage Hall and Thu (May 11), I’m in Calgary for Wordfest.

The Writers Guild is on strike. Hollywood is closed for business. The union’s bargaining documents reveal a cartel of studios that refused to negotiate on a single position. This could go on for a long-ass time:

https://www.wga.org/uploadedfiles/members/member_info/contract-2023/WGA_proposals.pdf

If you’d like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here’s a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/06/people-are-not-disposable/#union-strong

The writers are up for it. A lot of people are saying this is the first writers’ strike since 2007/8, but that’s not quite right. That was the last time the writers went on strike against the studios, but in 2019, the writers struck against their own talent agents — within the space of a week, all 7,000 writers in Hollywood fired their agents. They struck against the agencies for 22 months.

https://deadline.com/2023/04/hollywood-strike-writers-guild-studios-talent-agencies-1235333516/

The agencies had consolidated down to four major firms, two backed by private equity who loaded them up with debt that could only be repaid if the agencies figured out how to vastly increase their profits. They did so, by unilaterally switching the way they did business with their clients. Instead of taking a 10% commission on the creative wages they bargained for, the agencies started to take “packaging fees” from the studios for putting together a writer, director, stars, etc. These fees came out of the same budget that the talent got paid from, so the higher the fee was, the less the talent made. Soon, some showrunners were discovering that they were getting 10% and their agents were getting 90%!

The agencies weren’t done, either: they were building their own studios, and planning to negotiate with themselves on behalf of their clients. The writers said fuck this shit. They issued a code of conduct ordering the agencies to knock all that shit off. The agencies swore they’d never do it. Why should they? Every job these writers had ever done came through an agency, and the agencies were staffed with the toughest, most obnoxious negotiators on the planet.

They were sure the writers would cave. After all, the top tier of writers had been handled with kid gloves by the agencies and not ripped off to the same extent as their jobbing, workaday peers. They’d break solidarity and the union would collapse, right?

Wrong. Twenty-two months later, every one of the agencies caved on every single point. Bam. Union strong.

(Want to learn more? Check out Chokepoint Capitalism, Rebecca Giblin’s and my book about creative labor markets:)

http://chokepointcapitalism.com

Now the writers are back on strike and it’s triggered a predictable torrent of anti-worker nonsense (“striking writers will lead to public indifference to torture!) (no, really) (ugh):

https://www.readtpa.com/p/on-the-tv-writers-strike-dont-fall

One common theme in these bad takes is that writers aren’t real workers, like, you know, coal miners or Starbucks baristas. They’re coddled intellectuals, and haven’t the intelligentsia been indifferent to proletarian struggle since, you know, time immemorial?

This is wrong in every conceivable way. For starters, it’s ahistorical. Lord Byron and innumerable other toffs and poets and such were right there with the Luddites, demanding labor justice during the Industrial Revolution, as Brian Merchant writes in his outstanding, forthcoming history of the Luddites, Blood in the Machine:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/03/20/love-the-machine/#hate-the-factory

But you don’t have to look back to the stocking frame to find this kind of solidarity. As Hamilton Nolan writes in his newsletter, “Hollywood is the single best example of mature labor power in America”:

https://www.hamiltonnolan.com/p/the-coral-reef-of-humanity-encircling

The entire Hollywood workforce, from grips to carpenters, costumers to plumbers, teamsters to medics, is unionized. That includes writers and actors (I’m a member of IATSE Local 839, AKA The Animation Guild). I live in Burbank, the entertainment industry’s company town (fun fact! The “Hollywood” studios are largely over the city line, in Burbank). Walk down Burbank Boulevard, Magnolia Boulevard, or any of the other major roads, and you’ll pass many union halls.

Burbank is a prosperous place. That’s thanks, in part, to the studios, whose entertainment products are very profitable. But working in a profitable industry is not, in and of itself, a guarantee that you will get a share of those profits. Some of the most profitable industries in the world — e-commerce, fast food, logistics — have the lowest paid workforces.

Burbank is prosperous because the unions made sure that everyone — the grips, the costumers, the animators, the actors, the writers, the teamsters and the pipefitters — gets a decent wage, decent health care and a decent retirement. My pal the set-dresser who worked crazy hours shlepping furniture around sitcom sets for decades? All that work did bad stuff to his joints, which meant that he needed a hip replacement in his forties — which was 100% covered, including his sick leave while he recovered. He was able to take early retirement in his late fifties, with a solid pension, with his health in excellent shape and many years of happiness with his partner stretching before him.

That’s what unions get you: a good job that might be hard at times, and the costs of your work are borne by the employer who profits from your labor. As Nolan writes, the point of unions is to “make sure that people! Are! Not! Disposable!”

Unions deliver the American dream. As Pete Seeger sang in “Talking Union Blues”:

Now, if you want higher wages let me tell you what to do You got to talk to the workers in the shop with you You got to build you a union, got to make it strong But if you all stick together, boys, it won’t be long You get shorter hours, better working conditions Vacations with pay. Take your kids to the seashore

http://www.protestsonglyrics.net/Labor_Union_Songs/Talking-Union.phtml

We tend to focus on wages in union discussions, but unions aren’t merely about getting better pay, it’s about making better jobs. When LA teachers went out on strike in 2019, wages weren’t at the top of their list — they bargained for greenspace for every school, replacing rotting portables with permanent buildings, ending ICE entrapment of parents at the school gates, social workers and counselors for schools…and wages.

I really like how Nolan puts this. The way that the studios make money has changed: streaming is clobbering ad-supported TV and movie theater tickets. The studios are adapting. The workers want to adapt, too. The studios would rather “treat[] their work force as a disposable natural resource to be mined, used up, and then abandoned, as business dictates.”

A union gives workers “the same ability to adapt to changing industries that companies already have.” The studios want to leave workers behind. Unions give workers the collective power to say, “No. You’re taking us with you.”

Union workers are wealthier than their non-union counterparts, but that’s not just because of higher wages. As Nolan writes, “Unions make sure that the people get to adapt to changing industries, and not just the investors and the business owners.”

[Union workers] have a far greater ability to build coherent, long-term careers, as opposed to a constant treadmill of unstable short-term gigs. In non-union industries, businesses can just act like ships cutting through a desperate sea of workers, scooping up whoever they want and then tossing them overboard as soon as it’s convenient. In a union industry, though, the companies are forced to deal with the labor force as an equal. The workers have their own damn boat.

Advocates for market capitalism insist that market forces increase prosperity for everyone. They say that, in the end, having corporations serve their shareholders results in corporations serving everyone.

But a comparison of unionized and nonunionized industries reveals the hollowness of that prospect. Hollywood is wildly profitable and it pays every kind of worker well. That’s because workers have solidarity across sectors and trades. Striking writers like jonrog1 are calling on supporters to donate to the Entertainment Community Fund:

https://twitter.com/jonrog1/status/1654168529728307204

The Entertainment Community Fund supports everyone else who is affected by the work-stoppage, all the other creative and craft trades whose work has been halted by the writers’ struggle. If you want to support these workers, make sure you select “Film and TV” from the drop-down menu when you donate (we gave $100):

https://entertainmentcommunity.org/

Because all the workers are in this together. As Adam Conover explains in this amazing CNN clip, David Zazlav, the head of CNN parent-company Warner-Discovery, made a quarter of a billion dollars last year, enough to pay all the demands of all the writers:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aL-YwKO81go

And Carol Lombardini, spokesvillain for the studio cartel AMPTP, told the press that “”Writers are lucky to have term employment.” As John Rogers says, she “wiped out the doubt of every writer who wasn’t sure this negotiation really IS so important, that it actually IS about turning us into gig workers.”

https://twitter.com/jonrog1/status/1654506611086606336

The stakes in this strike are the same as the stakes in every strike: will workers get a fair share of the value their labor creates, or will that value be piled up in the vaults of $250,000,000/year CEOs? It’s not like the studios especially hate writers — like all corporations, they hate all their workers. The same tactics that they’re using to make it so writers can’t pay the rent today will be turned on every other kind of Hollywood worker tomorrow — and when the writers win this one, they’ll support those workers, too.

There’s a lot of concern about AI displacing creative labor, but the only entity that can take away a writer’s wage is a human being, an executive at a studio. As has been the case since the time of the Luddites, the issue isn’t what the machine does, it’s who it does it for and who it does it to.

After all, as Charlie Stross points out, a corporation is just a “Slow AI,” remorselessly paperclip-maximizing its way through the lives and joy of the flesh-and-blood people who constitute its inconvenient gut-flora:

https://media.ccc.de/v/34c3-9270-dude_you_broke_the_future#video&t=3478

Catch me on tour with Red Team Blues in Berkeley, Vancouver, Calgary, Toronto, DC, Gaithersburg, Oxford, Hay, Manchester, Nottingham, London, and Berlin!

[Image ID: Animators walk the picket-line during the Disney Animator's Strike in 1941.]

Image: LA Times https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Screen_Cartoonist%27s_Guild_strike_at_Disney.jpg

CC BY 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/deed.en

#pluralistic #slow ai #luddites #solidarity #unions #writers strike #wgaw #labor

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