The biggest thing I’ve taken away from this project is something I’ll never be able to prove, but I’m convinced to my core: The lack of such a database is intentional. No government—not the federal government, and not the thousands of municipalities that give their police forces license to use deadly force—wants you to know how many people it kills and why.
It’s the only conclusion that can be drawn from the evidence. What evidence? In attempting to collect this information, I was lied to and delayed by the FBI, even when I was only trying to find out the addresses of police departments to make public records requests. The government collects millions of bits of data annually about law enforcement in its Uniform Crime Report, but it doesn’t collect information about the most consequential act a law enforcer can do.
I’ve been lied to and delayed by state, county and local law enforcement agencies—almost every time. They’ve blatantly broken public records laws, and then thumbed their authoritarian noses at the temerity of a citizen asking for information that might embarrass the agency. And these are the people in charge of enforcing the law.
“…the older I get, the more I see how women are described as having gone mad, when what they’ve actually become is knowledgeable and powerful and fucking furious.”—Sophie Heawood (via insanity-and-vanity)
Jesus. Fucking. Christ. Reminiscent of the comedian who told me on Twitter I was lucky I was too ugly to be raped after I took down Daniel Tosh on Twitter. PS -- I've been raped. When I pointed this out he starting whining about why I was attacking him. My mission in life is to make sure my son doesn't turn into one of these assholes:
“Meanwhile, the presumed stockpile of penis photos taken by Hollywood actors remains curiously untouched”—A line from an EW article questioning why it’s only women in Hollywood who have their privacy violated x (via pansycakeofwesteros)
But women can never be careful enough, can we? If we take naked pictures of ourselves, we’re asking for it. If someone can manage to hack into our accounts, we’re asking for it. If we’re not wearing anti-rape nail polish, we’re asking for it. If we don’t take self-defence classes, we’re asking for it. If we get drunk, we’re asking for it. If our skirts are too short, we’re asking for it. If we pass out at a party, we’re asking for it. If we are not hyper-vigilant every single fucking second of every single fucking day, we are asking for it. Even when we are hyper-vigilant, we’re still asking for it. The fact that we exist is asking for it.
“We tell our women “get into science, get into math, get into the pipeline.” Who wants to be in a pipeline full of acid?”—
Alicia Menendez - The View
I’m at the car dealership, waiting for my service recall to be completed, and this statement caught the attention of every woman in the room. Unsurprisingly, they all nodded in assent while the few men in the room looked uncomfortable.
The point is valid: even if access to STEM and other male dominated fields is made available, we need to do something about the culture in the field. Access to a pipeline full of acid, while it is still access, serves to maintain inequality.
It took me three years as a grad student to find a lab to do research work in, and after one summer I’m going back to being a teaching assistant and I’m considering changing fields because of this shit.
“If someone were to die at the age of 63 after a lifelong battle with MS or Sickle Cell, we’d all say they were a “fighter” or an “inspiration.” But when someone dies after a lifelong battle with severe mental illness and drug addiction, we say it was a tragedy and tell everyone “don’t be like him, please seek help.” That’s bullshit. Robin Williams sought help his entire life. He saw a psychiatrist. He quit drinking. He went to rehab. He did this for decades. That’s HOW he made it to 63. For some people, 63 is a fucking miracle. I know several people who didn’t make it past 23 and I’d do anything to have 40 more years with them.”—