i think a lot about exactly 1 thing from the roman empire: the concept of bread and circus. the idea was that if your population was fed and entertained, they wouldn't revolt. you are asking us to give up our one small life, is the thing - for under 15 dollars an hour.
what would that buy, even. i am trading weekends and late nights and my back health. i am trading slow mornings and long walks and cortisol levels. i am trading sleep and silence and peace. for ... this. for what barely-covers-rent.
life really is more expensive right now. you aren't making that up. i make almost 3 times what i did 5 years ago, and despite an incredibly equal series of bills - i am still struggling. the most expensive line item i added was to own a dog. the money is just evaporating.
we were okay with it because it's a cost-benefit analysis. i could handle the customer harassment and standing all day and the manager's constantly changing temperament - i was coming home to hope, and my life planned in a blue envelope. three hours would buy me my dog's food for a month. i can give up three hours for him, for his shiny coat and wide, happy mouth. three days could be a new mattress, if i was thrifty. if i really scrimped and saved, we could maybe afford a trip into the city.
recently i cried in the car about the price of groceries.
business majors will be mad at me, but my most inflammatory opinion is that people should never be valued at the same place as products. your staff should not be a series of numbers in an excel sheet that you can just "replace" whenever you need something at that moment. your staff should be people, end of sentence.
it feels like someone somewhere is playing a very bad video game. like my life is a toy. like someone opened an app on their phone and hired me in diner dash ultra. they don't need to pay me well or treat me alright - they can always just show me the door. there is always someone more desperate, always someone more willing.
but i go to work and know i could save for years and not afford housing. i am never going to own my own home, most likely. i have no idea how to afford her ring, much less the wedding. my dog doesn't have his own yard. everything i love is on subscription. if i lose my job, i have no "nest egg" to catch my falling.
this thin life - they want me to give up summer for it. to open my mouth and throat and swallow the horrible hours and counted keystrokes. they want me to give up mountains and any non-federal holiday. to give up snow days. to give up talking to my mom whenever i want. to give up visiting the ocean and hearing the waves.
bread and circus worked for a while, actually. it was the kind of plan that would probably now be denounced by republicans as socialist commie liberal pronoun bullshit.
but sometimes i wonder if we should point them to the part of the history book that says: it worked until it didn't.
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Love when the antisemites tag their own antisemitism. Let’s break it down.
1. “Jews getting expelled over and over again” is a common antisemitic talking point. On its own it isn’t antisemitic to acknowledge-it’s a historical fact- but as we will soon see, in this context it very much is a sign of antisemitism.
2. The use of the word “you” in “you were expelled” indicates this user is not Jewish.
3.”is it kosher to take any accountability for that” (crippling economies through usury)- here op illustrates that they believe the classic antisemitism that Jews willfully destroy economies through financial manipulation. In actuality, Jews were forced into economic work due to antisemitism, and then were used as scapegoats for economic failure.
4. Note the use of the word “kosher”. When used in this context it’s clearly derisive and meant to be ironic. I’m sure op thinks they’re very witty.
5. “They hate us for no reason”. Victim blaming. Bigotry is never the fault of the victim, and demanding that Jews take “accountability” for the antisemitism we face is yet again an antisemitic talking point. The historical and modern reasons for antisemitism are well documented, especially this specific flavor.
6. This last paragraph is more of the same, this time directly to Jews. “Have you ever thought about what you did to deserve the hate?” Is this paragraph summed up. “There must be some logical reason”-there is. Basic research makes this apparent. However instead op accuses Jews of complacency, subtly implying that it’s intentional, that we want to simply be viewed as victims.
7. Finally, note the tags. Jumblr, Israel tags even though this has nothing to do with Israel, the phrase “am yisrael chai”. Op knows what they’re doing and intentionally wants Jews to see their bigotry, under the thin plausible deniability of “I was just asking a question!” I do not think we should give them that benefit of the doubt. This is blatant antisemitism.
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Domestic Arkham!Jason Todd Headcanons
Y’all ever think about the inherent tragedy of Arkham!Jason craving something as simple as domesticity?
How he craves the comfort of home-cooked meals, but can’t actually eat anything he hasn’t prepared himself. Because during his time in Joker’s captivity, almost everything he was served was either poisoned or rotten, and now every time he eats, it’s like he’s expecting the burn of poison or the flavor of something sour and rotten flooding his mouth.
Can you imagine the frustration he must feel at his inability to share a simple meal with you?
The sudden clench in his gut when he realizes that he wasn’t there to watch you prepare the food, and despite the fact that he trusts you, he can’t help that familiar dread rising in the back of his throat.
Jason tries, for you, he tries.
But there are times, more often than not, when he feels the phantom burn of poison or the flavor of something sour and rotten flooding his mouth–and his body reacts before his mind does.
And suddenly he’s hunched over the sink or the toilet, vomiting out half-digested food, and it’s almost like he never left Arkham Asylum.
Can you imagine the absolute burning jealousy he feels whenever his family interacts with you with an ease he can only dream of?
Maybe it’s a movie night, during one of those rare times when Gotham City didn’t need saving, and there’s Tim and Dick and Barbara piled on the couch. And you fit so well with them–a tangle of limbs and careless laughter at a dumb joke Dick made–that it’s Jason who feels like an outsider.
Jason sits apart from all of you, the only person to pick an armchair instead of the couch, because every time he tries to sit close to someone, all he can think is whether they’re close enough to see his scars.
The table is piled high with snacks, more than the five of you can realistically eat in an evening. There’s popcorn and pizza, mozzarella sticks and pretzels, several bars of chocolate that can only be found in Bludhaven, the air is thick with the smell of grease and cheese dust.
And it’s almost like being a teenager again. Before that night and the Joker and everything else that followed.
It’s almost like being a teenager again, dizzy with the good fortune of being adopted by Bruce fucking Wayne, watching some dumb flick with his siblings when he was supposed to be training. Ordering takeout food and laughing along with Dick at Alfred’s visible disappointment as they stuff their faces.
It’s almost like being a teenager again, but not quite.
Jason watches the four of you pass around a bowl of popcorn, arguing about which genre of movie to start with. But when Barbara tries to hand it to him, he feels a sudden clot of heat in his chest, and he’s already shaking his head before he even knows why.
And he realizes, he’s afraid.
He doesn’t know who made the food or what restaurant it was ordered from, and he is sure if he asks, no one would be able to give him all of the names of people who handled it.
The burn of poison and the taste of something sour and rotten flooding his mouth.
Poisoned cake and rotting rats. The writhing of pale white maggots against bone and glistening meat and gristle.
He doesn’t touch anything for the rest of the evening.
Can you imagine how scared he is?
Jason is so acutely, painfully aware of how exhausting it is to be with him. To be with someone you can’t even share a simple meal with.
And he wonders how long it will be before you get tired of him.
Bruce, after all, had left after he had seen the twisted thing Jason had become.
And if his own father couldn’t even stomach his presence–
And suddenly he’s hunched over again, over the sink or against the toilet, vomiting out half-digested food.
And it really is like he never left Arkham Asylum after all.
This is what he thinks, when he finally collapses on the tiles of your bathroom floor, cold sweat pouring down his face. Your presence hovering over him like a ghost, a thousand apologies pouring from your throat.
But it’s not you that’s the problem, it’s him.
It’s this awful thing in the back of his head, always expecting the next threat, the next injury, the next sick game the Joker has come up with.
It’s the fact that his days with the Joker had left him so twisted and strange that he can no longer fit into a normal life, even when he wants to.
And this is what he thinks, when you catch the way he is not watching the movie at all. But instead he is looking at his family’s faces, his chest pulsing with a jealousy so fierce it might as well have been his heartbeat.
Jason wishes–oh, how he wishes–it was that easy, that simple for him.
You disentangle yourself from his siblings–Dick had already fallen asleep, head lolling heavily on your shoulder, to pad your way to him. You sink down onto the armchair to share it with him, practically on top of him, and he marvels at the way your heat dispels the chill that has crept over him.
Your hands are small compared to his, but they are just big enough that when you lay them atop of his, he does not have to think about whether you can see the scars.
This is what he thinks, on days like these. It is something he always thinks, a small voice in the back of his head that is never silenced.
He doesn't deserve you.
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Thanks to @red--pirate for the idea!
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You are not a bad person if you chose not to report. I am so tired of hearing people say, “if you don’t report, it’s on you if they do it to someone else.”
No, it is absolutely not.
It is on the person doing it.
You are valid, and what you decide to do is up to you. Whether that is reporting now, later on, or never at all.
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