Those subtle hints you’ve been giving out don’t work at all.
Peaceful protests are a good opportunity to exercise your freedom of speech, a time when you can take to the streets and make your voice heard while surrounded by people with similar opinions and grievances. But as you can see from this hilarious list compiled by Bored Panda, freedom of speech applies to everybody, and some people use their freedom to mercilessly troll protesters who have alternative (and often ridiculous) views on things. Scroll down to see some of the funniest anti-protest protest signs we could find, and don’t forget to vote for your favorite!
#1 Jesus Is Cool With It
#2 San Diego LGBT Pride
#3 I Came To Take Your Jobs
#4 Pornography Harms
#5 Pro-Life VS. Pro-Choice
#6 Trolling The Protestors
#7 Never Misses A Gay Event
#9 Sir Ian Mckellen’s Sign Is Everything
#10 I Hope His Wife Has A Sense Of Humor
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Linda Tirado on the realities of living in bootstrap America: daily annoyances for most people are catastrophic for poor people.
This month, Slate is republishing some of our favorite stories. Here’s today’s selection: The rate at which people share Linda Tirado’s piece, even today—three years after it was initially published—is astronomical. Too many Americans recognize the precarious lifestyle of the poor that Tirado lays out in “Why Poor People Stay Poor”: how something as dumb as getting your car towed or getting sick can leave you jobless, homeless, and even more broke than you thought possible. Given how the country is being governed in 2017, I don’t see the number of people sharing this piece declining any time soon. —Evan Mackinder
I once lost a whole truck over a few hundred bucks. It had been towed, and when I called the company they told me they’d need a few hundred dollars for the fee. I didn’t have a few hundred dollars. So I told them when I got paid next and that I’d call back then.
It was a huge pain in the ass for those days. It was the rainy season, and I wound up walking to work, adding another six miles or so a day to my imaginary pedometer. It was my own fault that I’d been towed, really, and I spent more than a couple hours ruing myself. I finally made it to payday, and when I went to get the truck, they told me that I now owed over a thousand dollars, nearly triple my paycheck. They charged a couple hundred dollars a day in storage fees. I explained that I didn’t have that kind of money, couldn’t even get it. They told me that I had some few months to get it together, including the storage for however long it took me to get it back, or that they’d simply sell it. They would, of course, give me any money above and beyond their fees if they recovered that much.
I was working two jobs at the time. Both were part time. Neither paid a hundred bucks a day, much less two.
I wound up losing my jobs. So did my husband. We couldn’t get from point A to point B quickly enough, and we showed up to work, late, either soaked to the skin or sweating like pigs one too many times. And with no work, we wound up losing our apartment.
It’s amazing what things that are absolute crises for me are simple annoyances for people with money. Anything can make you lose your apartment, because any unexpected problem that pops up, like they do, can set off that Rube Goldberg device.
One time I lost an apartment because my roommate got a horrible flu that we suspected was maybe something worse because it stayed forever—she missed work, and I couldn’t cover her rent. Once it was because my car broke down and I missed work. Once it was because I got a week’s unpaid leave when the company wanted to cut payroll for the rest of the month. Once my fridge broke and I couldn’t get the landlord to fix it, so I just left. Same goes for the time that the gas bill wasn’t paid in a utilities-included apartment for a week, resulting in frigid showers and no stove. That’s why we move so much. Stuff like that happens.
Because our lives seem so unstable, poor people are often seen as being basically incompetent at managing their lives. That is, it’s assumed that we’re not unstable because we’re poor, we’re poor because we’re unstable. So let’s just talk about how impossible it is to keep your life from spiraling out of control when you have no financial cushion whatsoever. And let’s also talk about the ways in which money advice is geared only toward people who actually have money in the first place.
I once read a book for people in poverty, written by someone in the middle class, containing real-life tips for saving pennies and such. It’s all fantastic advice: buy in bulk, buy a lot when there’s a sale on, hand-wash everything you can, make sure you keep up on vehicle and indoor filter maintenance.
Of course, very little of it was actually practicable. Bulk buying in general is cheaper, but you have to have a lot of money to spend on stuff you don’t actually need yet. Hand-washing saves on the utilities, but nobody actually has time for that. If I could afford to replace stuff before it was worn out, vehicle maintenance wouldn’t be much of an issue, but you really can’t rinse the cheap filters and again—quality costs money up front. In the long term, it makes way more sense to buy a good toaster. But if the good toaster is 30 bucks right now, and the crappiest toaster of them all is 10, it doesn’t matter how many times I have to replace it. Ten bucks it is, because I don’t have any extra tens.
It actually costs money to save money.
It is impossible to be good with money when you don’t have any. Full stop. If I’m saving my spare five bucks a week, in the best-case scenario I will have saved $260 a year. For those of you that think in quarters: $65 per quarter in savings. If you deny yourself even small luxuries, that’s the fortune you’ll amass. Of course you will never manage to actually save it; you’ll get sick at least one day and miss work and dip into it for rent. Gas will spike and you’ll need it to get to work. You’ll get a tear in your work pants that you can’t patch. Something, I guarantee you, will happen in three months.
When I have a few extra dollars to spend, I can’t afford to think about next month—my present day situation is generally too tight to allow me that luxury. I’ve got kids who are interested in their quality of life right now, not 10 years from now.
Here’s the thing: we know the value of money. We work for ours. If we’re at 10 bucks an hour, we earn 83 cents, before taxes, every five minutes. We know exactly what a dollar’s worth; it’s counted in how many more times you have to duck and bend sideways out the drive through window. Or how many floors you can vacuum, or how many boxes you can fill.
It’s impossible to win, unless you are very lucky. For you to start to do better, something has to go right—and stay that way for long enough for you to get on your feet. I’ve done well in years that I had a job I didn’t mind terribly and that paid me well enough to get into an apartment that met all the basic standards. I’ve done less well in years where I didn’t have steady work. The trouble’s been that my luck simply hasn’t held out for long enough; it seems like just when I’ve caught up, something happens to set me back again. I’ve been fortunate enough that it’s rarely compounded, and I’ve stayed at under sea level for short periods instead of long-term. But I’ve stared long-term in the face long enough to have accepted it as a real possibility. It’s only an accident and a period of unemployment away.
Remember recently when everyone was kicking off about the prospect of a ?
The furore started when news dropped that two women had volunteered to play Santa as part of a festive tour in , County Durham. I know, the HORROR.
Labour Councillor Arun Chandran wasn’t in favour of having a jolly St Nicola, saying: “There is no shortage of male volunteers to act as Santa Claus, so we should not permit a female volunteer to perform the role.
“He’s called Father Christmas!” he exclaimed before screwing up the paper. “The world’s gone nuts.”
Well, the debate has now stepped up a gear – as there are some people who believe Santa shouldn’t have any gender at all.
Logo creation company GraphicSprings polled 400 people from the US and UK about potential ways that Santa could be modernised, before using the top suggestions to poll another 4,000 people.
It didn’t take long before people started piping up on social media, where many said the whole thing was ‘ridiculous’.
One person tweeted: “Santx; the gender neutral Santa.”
Someone else said: “Santa isn’t real. Thinking Santa should be female or gender neutral is no more moronic than thinking he should be male.”
A third wrote: “I’m all for equality but the idea that we should make Santa gender neutral or female is ridiculous! You cannot change history – St Nicholas, the guy who started the whole stocking hanging thing was a man!! #Christmas.”
Another added: “Absolutely not, it’s a fat guy in a red suit with a red hat and white beard, carrying a massive sack full of toys and a guy who gets stuck up chimneys. End of discussion!”
Others couldn’t see the point in arguing over a made-up character, with one asking: “Are people seriously questioning if Santa should be gender neutral?’
Welcome to 2018, folks.
Dear White Evangelicals,
I need to tell you something: People have had it with you.
They want nothing to do with you any longer, and here’s why:
They see your hypocrisy, your inconsistency, your incredibly selective mercy, and your thinly veiled supremacy.
For eight years they watched you relentlessly demonize a black President; a man faithfully married for 26 years; a doting father and husband without a hint of moral scandal or the slightest whiff of infidelity.
They watched you deny his personal faith convictions, argue his birthplace, and assail his character—all without cause or evidence. They saw you brandish Scriptures to malign him and use the laziest of racial stereotypes in criticizing him.
And through it all, White Evangelicals—you never once suggested that God placed him where he was,
you never publicly offered prayers for him and his family,
you never welcomed him to your Christian Universities,
you never gave him the benefit of the doubt in any instance,
you never spoke of offering him forgiveness or mercy,
your evangelists never publicly thanked God for his leadership,
your pastors never took to the pulpit to offer solidarity with him,
you never made any effort to affirm his humanity or show the love of Jesus to him in any quantifiable measure.
You violently opposed him at every single turn—without offering a single ounce of the grace you claim as the heart of your faith tradition. You jettisoned Jesus as you dispensed damnation on him.
And yet today, you openly give a “mulligan” to a white Republican man so riddled with depravity, so littered with extramarital affairs, so unapologetically vile, with such a vast resume of moral filth—that the mind boggles.
And the change in you is unmistakable. It has been an astonishing conversion to behold: a being born again.
With him, you suddenly find religion.
With him, you’re now willing to offer full absolution.
With him, all is forgiven without repentance or admission.
With him you’re suddenly able to see some invisible, deeply buried heart.
With him, sin has become unimportant, compassion no longer a requirement.
With him, you see only Providence.
And White Evangelicals, all those people who have had it with you—they see it all clearly.
They recognize the toxic source of your inconsistency.
They see that pigmentation and party are your sole deities.
They see that you aren’t interested in perpetuating the love of God or emulating the heart of Jesus.
They see that you aren’t burdened to love the least, or to be agents of compassion, or to care for your Muslim, gay, African, female, or poor neighbors as yourself.
They see that all you’re really interested in doing, is making a God in your own ivory image and demanding that the world bow down to it.
They recognize this all about white, Republican Jesus—not dark-skinned Jesus of Nazareth.
And I know you don’t realize it, but you’re digging your own grave in these days; the grave of your very faith tradition.
Your willingness to align yourself with cruelty is a costly marriage. Yes, you’ve gained a Supreme Court seat, a few months with the Presidency as a mouthpiece, and the cheap high of temporary power—but you’ve lost a whole lot more.
You’ve lost an audience with millions of wise, decent, good-hearted, faithful people with eyes to see this ugliness.
You’ve lost any moral high ground or spiritual authority with a generation.
You’ve lost any semblance of Christlikeness.
You’ve lost the plot.
And most of all you’ve lost your soul.
I know it’s likely you’ll dismiss these words. The fact that you’ve even made your bed with such malevolence, shows how far gone you are and how insulated you are from the reality in front of you.
But I had to at least try to reach you. It’s what Jesus would do.
Maybe you need to read what he said again—if he still matters to you.
Order John’s book, ‘A Bigger Table’ here.
You are horrible people. I mean that. I am not being facetious or wry. You are not good people.
And by “you” I mean everyone in Ontario who has been griping about the Amber Alert that woke most of the province late last night.
A family in Brampton, Ont., called police Thursday night because their daughter was missing. The police immediately began to search for the girl and sent out an alert to the public. As a result, her father’s car was spotted and he was arrested. Tragically, it was too late for 11-year-old Riya Rajkumar, who was found dead.
This morning, the chattering classes on the radio, Facebook, Reddit, and Twitter, basically all the places where we now talk amongst ourselves, are whining about being startled out of their sleep.
The most common complaint is that they were too far away from the point of the crime to do anything. A woman whose tweet has since been deleted was angry about a second message to say the alert was now cancelled, believing it unnecessary. Others complained bitterly: “We do not work for [the police],” one man wrote. Some even called 911, not to provide tips, but to criticize the alert.
This is a comfortable land. Our cars have heated seats. Our winter coats have Bluetooth. Our hot dinners come right to our door. Life expectancy is higher than it has ever been, and crime is lower than we ever could have hoped.
How did this happen? Mostly because we as a society figured out how to move forward together. Collectively, we agreed to a mostly unspoken social compact: if we look after each other, we will all be looked after. There’s nothing particularly unique about this; it’s a variation of the “Golden Rule” which has been the bedrock of every civilization since Ur.
But we have grown so entitled to our comforts, we’ve forgotten that we have to pay for them, that we bear collective responsibilities. We can’t be bothered to vote. We resent paying taxes for public goods. We volunteer in our community less and less. And now we even begrudge having to help save the life of a child.
That is what citizens are complaining about today. They were asked to help save a child and this irritated them. In small towns, when a child goes missing everyone knocks on doors and wakes each other up and searches all night. Because in a community people look out for each other, they understand the duty we owe our neighbours. They recognize that if you want to live in a town that protects its children, occasionally you have to get up, go outside, and help.
This is a point all the whiners need to understand today: If you want to live in a province that protects its children, occasionally you have to roll over in bed and check your phone. And if that is too much to ask, then you are objectively a horrible person.
In his moment of existential angst, however, we can all relate to this dog’s clear yearning to enter the kitchen area. After all — he’s just a dog, sitting outside of a café, asking to be let in.