Quote
"A Black man holding a wallet is more likely to be shot by the police than a White man holding a gun."

In 2002, a study by Joshua Correll and colleagues, called The Police Officer’s Dilemma, revealed a phenomenon also known as shooter-bias 

The study found that people hesitated longer to shoot an armed white target (and they were more likely to accidentally not shoot). Participants were quicker and more accurate with black armed targets but there were more “false alarms” (shooting them when they were unarmed). These effects were present even though participants did not hold any explicit discriminatory views and wanted to treat all targets fairly

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(via odinsblog)

These effects were present even though participants did not hold any explicit discriminatory views and wanted to treat all targets fairly”

You’ve got to be kidding me. That’s total bullshit. If you’re going to shoot an unarmed black person and then claim to not have discriminatory views …What a crock of shit. 

(via fat-queer)

Yeah, that’s the most contradictory statement… like, let’s be honest here.

(via siddharthasmama)

(via pushinghoopswithsticks)

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humansofnewyork:

"You can make about 75% more money with a cat on your head than you can with a cat on your shoulder."

humansofnewyork:

"You can make about 75% more money with a cat on your head than you can with a cat on your shoulder."

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(Source: shimapanqueen, via ctoons)

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thepalestineyoudontknow:

A discussion between my 5 and 7 year old siblings:
Jood:why are they killing us? In Gaza they’re just children
Muhammad: because they want to take the land they don’t care about our lives.

I don’t know in what world should children be discussing war and watching these bloody senses but here you go children explaining to you whats all the israeli occupation about..

(via pushinghoopswithsticks)

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thepeoplesrecord:

Gaza, a poemBy Nisha Bolsey
I’m walking and a man says, “If the Palestinians would just love their children more than they hate their enemy, the violence would be over.”Yes.If only.If only they would love their children.If only they had chosen the four corners(so they would die)or kept them in the middle(so they would die).If only they would have brought four-day old Noura back to life.If only they would kiss their children’s dead mouths and breathe life into them.If only they would raise their arms to the sun to block the bombs with the palms of their hands.If only they would dry the rivers of blood in the streets and pour them back into the hearts of their daughters and sons.Why don’t they?Why can’t they just pull out their own lungs and stick them into their slaughtered children’s chests?Why can’t they just sing, 24 hours a day, louder than thunder, to prevent their ears from hearing the sound of bombs?If only they would love their children, and carry their bodies up into the air, above the siege, past the blockade, into freedom.If the Al-Batsh boys’ parents had really loved them,they wouldn’t have let their insides be wrenched apart by the bomb that fell.They would use their hands to hold their limbs together so that they could stay in one piece.If only they would stop the vibrations which create sound,the sound which crashes and bleeds through their children’s ears.If only they would stop all light from traveling, so that their children wouldn’t have to see their sisters, cousins, fathers, brothers.Dead on the floor.Their house turning to rubble.Their family turning to dust.Their family turning to nothing.Their world disappearing.And why doesn’t their love sustain their children more than food?Heal the wounds from the weapons?They had seconds to leave before the bombing began.They should have thrown their children out the window,knowing they would take flightwith the wings their love had created.If only they loved Mohammed, Ahed, Zakaria and Mohammedenoughto rise above their soccer game and changethe magnetic forces of the Earth,to pull away the bomb,headed for the beach.

thepeoplesrecord:

Gaza, a poem
By Nisha Bolsey

I’m walking and a man says, “If the Palestinians would just love their children more than they hate their enemy, the violence would be over.”
Yes.
If only.
If only they would love their children.
If only they had chosen the four corners
(so they would die)
or kept them in the middle
(so they would die).
If only they would have brought four-day old Noura back to life.
If only they would kiss their children’s dead mouths and breathe life into them.
If only they would raise their arms to the sun to block the bombs with the palms of their hands.
If only they would dry the rivers of blood in the streets and pour them back into the hearts of their daughters and sons.
Why don’t they?
Why can’t they just pull out their own lungs and stick them into their slaughtered children’s chests?
Why can’t they just sing, 24 hours a day, louder than thunder, to prevent their ears from hearing the sound of bombs?
If only they would love their children, and carry their bodies up into the air, above the siege, past the blockade, into freedom.
If the Al-Batsh boys’ parents had really loved them,
they wouldn’t have let their insides be wrenched apart by the bomb that fell.
They would use their hands to hold their limbs together so that they could stay in one piece.
If only they would stop the vibrations which create sound,
the sound which crashes and bleeds through their children’s ears.
If only they would stop all light from traveling, so that their children wouldn’t have to see their sisters, cousins, fathers, brothers.
Dead on the floor.
Their house turning to rubble.
Their family turning to dust.
Their family turning to nothing.
Their world disappearing.
And why doesn’t their love sustain their children more than food?
Heal the wounds from the weapons?
They had seconds to leave before the bombing began.
They should have thrown their children out the window,
knowing they would take flight
with the wings their love had created.
If only they loved Mohammed, Ahed, Zakaria and Mohammed
enough
to rise above their soccer game and change
the magnetic forces of the Earth,
to pull away the bomb,
headed for the beach.

(via pushinghoopswithsticks)

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putthison:

How Clothes Can Affect the Way People Treat You
NPR has an interesting story about how some African-Americans used turbans to deal with discrimination in the Jim Crow era. An excerpt:

Routté’s experiment began after he traveled to Mobile, Ala., in 1943 for a family engagement. He wasn’t happy with how he was treated.
"I was Jim Crowed here, Jim Crowed there, Jim Crowed all over the place," he later told reporters. "And I didn’t like being Jim Crowed."
So he went back in 1947, with a plan.
Before he boarded the train to Alabama, he put on his spangled turban and velvet robes. When the train reached North Carolina during lunchtime, Routté walked over to the diner car where the only vacant seat was occupied by two white couples.
One of the men said, “Well, what have we got here?” to which Routté replied in his best Swedish accent (he had been the only black student at a Swedish Lutheran college in Illinois), “We have here an apostle of goodwill and love” — leaving them gaping.
And that confusion seemed to work for Routté on the rest of his trip. He dropped in on police officials, the chamber of commerce, merchants — and was treated like royalty.
At a fancy restaurant he asked the staff what would happen if a “Negro gentleman comes in here and sits down to eat.” The reply: “No negro would dare to come in here to eat.”
"I just stroked my chin and ordered my dessert," he said.
[…]
"He didn’t change his color. He just changed his costume, and they treated him like a human," says Luther Routté, who has been a Lutheran pastor for 25 years. It "shows you the kind of myopia that accompanies the whole premise of apartheid or segregation."
Through the “turban trick,” Routté basically transformed himself from a threat to a guest — black to invisible.

You can read the whole story here.

putthison:

How Clothes Can Affect the Way People Treat You

NPR has an interesting story about how some African-Americans used turbans to deal with discrimination in the Jim Crow era. An excerpt:

Routté’s experiment began after he traveled to Mobile, Ala., in 1943 for a family engagement. He wasn’t happy with how he was treated.

"I was Jim Crowed here, Jim Crowed there, Jim Crowed all over the place," he later told reporters. "And I didn’t like being Jim Crowed."

So he went back in 1947, with a plan.

Before he boarded the train to Alabama, he put on his spangled turban and velvet robes. When the train reached North Carolina during lunchtime, Routté walked over to the diner car where the only vacant seat was occupied by two white couples.

One of the men said, “Well, what have we got here?” to which Routté replied in his best Swedish accent (he had been the only black student at a Swedish Lutheran college in Illinois), “We have here an apostle of goodwill and love” — leaving them gaping.

And that confusion seemed to work for Routté on the rest of his trip. He dropped in on police officials, the chamber of commerce, merchants — and was treated like royalty.

At a fancy restaurant he asked the staff what would happen if a “Negro gentleman comes in here and sits down to eat.” The reply: “No negro would dare to come in here to eat.”

"I just stroked my chin and ordered my dessert," he said.

[…]

"He didn’t change his color. He just changed his costume, and they treated him like a human," says Luther Routté, who has been a Lutheran pastor for 25 years. It "shows you the kind of myopia that accompanies the whole premise of apartheid or segregation."

Through the “turban trick,” Routté basically transformed himself from a threat to a guest — black to invisible.

You can read the whole story here.

(via pushinghoopswithsticks)

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roidyraw:

As soon as I learned Nicki Minaj voiced Sugilite, I had to

(via yellowfur)

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why do nerds even fucking care so much about new thor and cap. thor odinson and steve rogers aren’t even fucking “going away” they’re just gonna be in a different comic

beesmygod:

pyramidslayer:

yinyangzen:

minim-calibre:

beesmygod:

because babies dont have object permanence

FUCK YOU, This isn’t some victory for women or minorities, THIS IS A STUNT TO SELL COMICS! That is all. What you are going end up doing like this is piss off fans who buy the comics and guess what, They are not going to buy the comics and when sales drop they are going to switch them back. That is what is going to happen.

lemme let you in on a little secret: marvel doesn’t care. marvel makes literal billions off of their movies. if they wanted they could close their comic studio today and cruise off of movies and cartoons until the heat death of the universe. they don’t care about pissing off their core fanbase because they know that a) for as entitled and whiny as their fans are they will pretty much always buy the important comics, even and especially the ones they are mad at and b) the only sustainable business model is to widen the net as much as possible and make fans in many demographics. it’s why the new ms marvel sells so much

ultimately the real victory for women and minorities is watching people like you go into an impotent, frothing rage because your club isn’t so exclusive as you thought it was

i fully support any motion that upsets people who buy and enjoy comics

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hotdiggitydogblog:

Goofy garden dog.

hotdiggitydogblog:

Goofy garden dog.

Quote
"Last night just before 9pm, they sent us a warning over the phone that ‘We will bomb the hospital, so you need to evacuate. We insisted that we cannot leave the hospital. Our patients are, all of them, paralyzed, they’re unconscious. They’re unable to move, so we need to stay in this hospital…

But just few minutes after the call, shells start falling down on the hospital — the fourth floor, third floor, second floor. Smoke, fire, dust all over."

- Basman Alashi, executive director of Al-Wafa Hospital, the only rehabilitation hospital in Gaza and the West Bank. (via thepeoplesrecord)

jesus fucking christ

(via bewareofmpreg)

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subarashiki:

Oh, realizing that we have woundsIn the same places, it makes my heart stir

subarashiki:

Oh, realizing that we have wounds
In the same places, it makes my heart stir

(via kyarychan)

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(Source: johnnythehorse, via soupgoblin)

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dglsplsblg:

Staten Island man dies after NYPD cop puts him in chokehold — SEE THE VIDEO

A 400-pound asthmatic Staten Island dad died Thursday after a cop put him in a chokehold and other officers appeared to slam his head against the sidewalk, video of the incident shows.
“I can’t breathe! I can’t breathe!” Eric Garner, 43, repeatedly screamed after at least five NYPD officers took him down in front of a Tompkinsville beauty supply store when he balked at being handcuffed.
Within moments Garner, a married father of six children with two grandchildren, stopped struggling and appeared to be unconscious as police called paramedics to the scene. An angry crowd gathered, some recording with smartphones.
“When I kissed my husband this morning, I never thought it would be for the last time,” Garner’s wife, Esaw, told the Daily News.
She got no details from police until after she had gone to the hospital to identify his body, she said.
“I saw him with his eyes wide open and I said, ‘Babe, don’t leave me, I need you.’ But he was already gone,” she said.

and people wonder why black people don’t trust or have any love for cops. they murdered this man. this black man. and for what? fucking cigarettes. yea, WE’RE the fucking problem.

dglsplsblg:

Staten Island man dies after NYPD cop puts him in chokehold — SEE THE VIDEO

A 400-pound asthmatic Staten Island dad died Thursday after a cop put him in a chokehold and other officers appeared to slam his head against the sidewalk, video of the incident shows.

“I can’t breathe! I can’t breathe!” Eric Garner, 43, repeatedly screamed after at least five NYPD officers took him down in front of a Tompkinsville beauty supply store when he balked at being handcuffed.

Within moments Garner, a married father of six children with two grandchildren, stopped struggling and appeared to be unconscious as police called paramedics to the scene. An angry crowd gathered, some recording with smartphones.

“When I kissed my husband this morning, I never thought it would be for the last time,” Garner’s wife, Esaw, told the Daily News.

She got no details from police until after she had gone to the hospital to identify his body, she said.

“I saw him with his eyes wide open and I said, ‘Babe, don’t leave me, I need you.’ But he was already gone,” she said.

and people wonder why black people don’t trust or have any love for cops. they murdered this man. this black man. and for what? fucking cigarettes. yea, WE’RE the fucking problem.

(via bewareofmpreg)

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