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Re: Welcome to the Pyrocene

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Jul 23, 2022, 12:30:02 AM7/23/22
In article <tbflnd$ncu1$>
kensi <kkensi...@gmail.invalid> wrote:
> In case you hadn’t been paying attention, it’s hot on this planet:

AlterNet is a left-leaning online news outlet. It was launched
in 1997 by the Independent Media Institute. In 2018, the website
was acquired by owners of The Raw Story.

The Raw Story (also stylized as RawStory) is an American
progressive news website and online tabloid. It was founded in
2004 by John K. Byrne and is owned by Byrne and Michael Rogers.
The Raw Story is considered a hyperpartisan media outlet and has
been described as "junk news".

Byrne, the former editor-in-chief of The Oberlin Review, founded
The Raw Story he graduated from Oberlin College in 2003. The
outlet officially launched in 2004, with Rogers joining the site
the same year.

Racist Oberlin College Loses $31M Appeal
Barring an appeal to Ohio’s Supreme Court, Oberlin College will
have to pay out $31 million for supporting false claims that a
local bakery discriminated against students of color.


Gibsons again demand payment of $36 million judgment

Attorneys for Gibson's Bakery and the Gibson family have once
again filed documents with the Ohio Supreme Court opposing
Oberlin College's request to halt payment of the more than $36
million the college owes the family and their business after
losing a lawsuit.

The matter remains on appeal before the state's highest court.
It isn't known when the Ohio Supreme Court might hear arguments
in the case.

"The Gibsons have correctly completed every step necessary to
properly execute" a jury's award and Lorain County Common Pleas
Judge John Miraldi's 2019 judgment, the family's attorneys wrote
in a motion filed with the state's highest court on Tuesday.

The family and their 137-year-old business won the largest award
ever handed out for libel, intentional infliction of emotional
distress and interference with business relationships in 2019.

The judgment came almost three years after Oberlin College
students protested alleged racism by the bakery and its owners
against students of color. Those allegations arose after three
students were arrested following a shoplifting incident and
assault on a store clerk in November 2016.

Jurors found that Oberlin College and its officials, including
former Vice President and Dean of Students Meredith Raimondo,
libeled the bakery and co-owners David Gibson and Allyn
"Grandpa" Gibson and damaged their reputation by allowing
students to declare them racist, hand out flyers and put up
unchallenged resolutions on campus saying as much.

Woke Oberlin College is hit with FOUR MILLION DOLLARS in
interest charges for dragging its heels in paying $36m
defamation damages to family-run bakery over false racism claims

A woke Ohio college now faces paying $4 million in interest on
top of $36 million in damages to a family-run bakery it almost
destroyed with false racism allegations.

Oberlin College was last month told it must pay the additional
fee - equivalent to around $4,000-a-day for each of the 1,000
days it has refused to pony up - to Gibson's Bakery, The
Chronicle reported.

Oberlin College led by one of its disgraced ex-deans, Meredith
Raimondo, lied that the bakery's staff had racially-profiled
three black students in 2016, despite the trio later admitting

That sparked a boycott and protests - led by a bullhorn-waving
Raimondo - that almost destroyed Gibson's, who successfully won
a defamation payout in 2019.

But Oberlin has refused to pay up, and asked for another stay in
paying the Gibsons what they're owed because of a pending appeal
against the ruling against them.

That appeal is set to be heard by the Ohio Supreme Court, after
two lower courts rejected Oberlin's attempts to slither out of
paying the Gibsons.

Lawyers for the Gibson family say Oberlin failed to file the
correct paperwork to justify their latest delaying tactic, and
must pay up. The legal stalemate continues for now.

The Gibson family, who owns the 137 year-old bakery, won damages
after a jury found they suffered horrific stress as a result of
Oberlin's lies and involvement in the boycotting of the business.


Queer John K. Byrne's homosexual fantasies.

I’m Going To Let You Go, Okay?
If I’d pulled out of the Stop & Shop in Provincetown a few
seconds later we would never have met. I wouldn’t have sheared
off the driver’s side mirror of your Civic, you wouldn’t have
smirked as I dropped the cards from my wallet, and I wouldn’t
have fallen for your Neptune-colored eyes. I wouldn’t have
followed you to your parents’ beach house under the pines, and
you wouldn’t fallen asleep in my arms, sticky, before I’d even
known I was asked to stay, and I wouldn’t have kissed your
forehead, or smelled your hair, or pressed the arch of my foot
against your sole, or admitted to myself that I would have crept
out quietly, and left your life forever, had I not felt guilty
that I’d bludgeoned your car.

But I did, and you, with your incredible chutzpah, invited me

When I woke, I found you on the stoop with a glass and a half-
empty bottle of Shiraz. Your mirror dangled from your door like
a cleft zombie’s hand. I told you I was on vacation, and you
asked, What from?

I slept with you the five nights I had left. You returned to
Boston with me on the ferry, even though you weren’t going home
to Boston yet, and we drank rum punch, and you knocked yours
over on my lap, and the bald guy with the beagle scowled at us
as if we were in love.

We met the next week in Central Square. You bought me a carrot
cake cupcake and fingered cream cheese frosting off from above
my lips. Each time we rendezvoused, I told myself I’d ask you
for a proper date, but for weeks, it never came: Each afternoon,
we found ourselves at the coffee shop taking shots of espresso
and sharing grilled pistachio muffin halves, because we’d fallen
under the spell of afternoon sex. On days we didn’t meet, I
attempted to write short stories, and you plotted drawings that
resembled asymmetrical Rorschach tests. Nights, you designed
websites for political campaigns, and I explained to diners at
the restaurant where I waited tables the difference between
burgers, of which we had seventeen.

The afternoon you agreed to meet me for a real date, you
produced a pipe from your night table, a lighter, and a bag of
pot. I told you we should open a window, and you kissed me just
behind my ear and said, Baby, it’s fine. Two bowls later, you
drew me out the door. We forgot our jackets. On the stairs to
the T, I tripped and scraped my knee on the cement.

Baby, you said.

I kissed you in the wind of the approaching train. We
transferred to the Green Line at Park Street and got off at

Assuming the guards could tell we were high, I spent most of my
time studying the floor tile. Oblivious, I bumped into a statue,
maybe Hermes, and the tiny size of his dick relative to his body
made me break into laughter. You covered my mouth, but you began
chuckling so I covered yours. Come on, you said. I want you to
see the mummy’s smile.

The mummy lay in a corner room at the end of a hall. Her thin
lips ticked up slightly at the edges, offering only the hint of
a grin. I said she looked like Mona Lisa might have had she
stuck to her diet. We laughed like kids being tickled until our
eyes were wet.

Afterward, we checked out boys playing Frisbee from a swan boat
under the willow trees by the common, which drizzled like wax
into the lagoon. You bought me a hot dog. At dinner, you asked
for peanut butter with your steak.

We fucked like crabs crawling over each other in pails.



Deer China, please release the COVID AIDS virus so we can get
rid of Democrats and queers. Only then can Earth be saved.

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