Anna Brown had visited several hospitals complaining of pain in her legs. When she was ignored at St. Mary’s Hospital, she refused to leaved, screaming and yelling that she was in pain. The hospital had her arrested. The police dragged her out of the hospital and into a squad car. At the Richmond Heights Police Department, she cried that she couldn’t stand up or get out of the car, so the officers dragged her out of the car, into a jail cell, and left her there.
Fifteen minutes later she was dead from a pulmonary embolism:
Capitalizing on HoodieGate, the NRA demonstrates yet again that they have no shame, and won’t rest until every man, woman, child, and zygote is armed to the teeth:
We want concealed carry to fit around your lifestyle – not the other way around. That’s why we developed the NRAstore™ exclusive Concealed Carry Hooded Sweatshirt. It’s the only garment of its kind we know of! Made from a pre-shrunk, heavyweight 50% cotton / 50% polyester blend, we’ve taken a standard 9 oz. fleece sweatshirt design and added a full-body polyester lining for added warmth, durability, wind resistance and weight distribution. Inside the sweatshirt you’ll find left and right concealment pockets. The included Velcro®-backed holster and double mag pouch can be repositioned inside the pockets for optimum draw. Ideal for carrying your favorite compact to mid-size pistol, the NRA Concealed Carry Hooded Sweatshirt gives you an extra tactical edge, because its unstructured, casual design appears incapable of concealing a heavy firearm – but it does so with ease! Includes drawstring hood, cotton/spandex ribbed cuffs and waistband, two front pouch pockets and a discreet black zipper. Includes one Velcro® holster and one Velcro® mag pouch. Colors: Black, Navy. Made in USA.
Well, this is a new twist on victim blaming. Usually we’re busy telling women not to wear such short skirts, or not to get too drunk lest they get raped. Now, apparently, we’re telling black and Latino youth not to wear hooded sweatshirts because it might-could get you shot in the chest by some lunatic vigilante who has a problem with those “assholes” who “always get away”:
GERALDO RIVERA: Well, I have a different take, Brian, on that. I believe that George Zimmerman, the overzealous neighborhood watch captain should be investigated to the fullest extent of the law and if he is criminally liable, he should be prosecuted. But I am urging the parents of black and Latino youngsters particularly to not let their children go out wearing hoodies. I think the hoodie is as much responsible for Trayvon Martin’s death as George Zimmerman was.
A&F found itself in a bit of hot water today after The Internet found out that it was selling “nigger brown” pants in the UK. Except they weren’t really, so you can uncream your Twinkie. (I need to point out that A&F still sucks for trying to turn teenage girls into sex objects.)
In any event, turns out that Abercrombie doesn’t have control over the website selling ni-CLANG! brown pants, which is being run by some Chinese cats who really need to update their translator software:
When my husband and I came to Chicago from Israel so that I could go to graduate school, we had no intention of staying here permanently.
But then the second Palestinian intifada happened, and the Israeli government’s entirely irresponsible and deadly response to same, and we came to a conclusion: We no longer wanted to raise children in Israel.
At the time, we only had the one child, a round-cheeked toddler boy, but the fact of his boy-ness sharpened the point. Our choice came mostly out of a desire to educate him differently, to not sacrifice his up-bringing and our values on the altar of occupation and settlement, but there was an unavoidable sense of having also snatched our son from the jaws of war — because in Israel, of course, every 18 year old boy is drafted into the military. Girls go, too, but they don’t see combat. They don’t die.
My aunt is one of those moms — white as me, but mom to a black man who was once young, a young black man who was stopped for jogging in his own neighborhood, a young black man for whom she would tremble a little whenever he went into the city.