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How much my dear Freedom? What’s your price ?! - The Case Of Ann Telnaes by Daniel Arrhakis (2025)
The Growing Influence of Tech Giants, Trump and Free Editorial Speech - The Ann Telnaes Case
Pulitzer Prize-winning cartoonist Ann Telnaes announced Friday that she has resigned from The Washington Post after the newspaper refused to publish a satirical cartoon depicting billionaire Post owner Jeff Bezos kneeling in front of President-elect Donald Trump. .
Ann Telnaes created editorial cartoons in various media for The Washington Post. He won the Pulitzer Prize in 2001, the National Cartoonists Society's Reuben Award for Outstanding Cartoonist of the Year in 2016, and the Herblock Award for editorial cartoonist in 2023, among others.
If this event in itself is already serious in terms of freedom of expression of one of the American Reference Newspapers, it becomes even more serious in a country that has always defended freedom of expression and editorial throughout the world.
But one thing is certain: The First Amendment's constitutional right to free speech, which applies to state and local governments under the incorporation doctrine, only prevents government restrictions on free speech, not restrictions imposed by individuals or corporations. private, unless they are acting on behalf of the government.
Since Trump's likely election, several newspapers have taken a more cautious approach by not endorsing a presidential candidate for the first time in 38 years in the 2024 US presidential election.
The Washington Post's endorsement was blocked by its owner Jeff Bezos and so the newspaper did not support either candidate; but by blocking Harris's support, it actually looked like support for Trump.
At the time, two writers left the Post's editorial board, two columnists left the paper, and the decision not to make an endorsement was heavily criticized by Marty Baron, the Post's respected former executive editor, and legendary Post journalists Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein. Around the same time, more than 250,000 readers canceled their subscriptions.
Since entering politics a decade ago, Donald Trump has castigated journalists for their skepticism and independence, calling the media “enemies of the people,” a “threat to democracy,” and “fake media” that he has vowed to sue. With a second term secured, he will be free to fulfill his promises.
In fact, Trump's Project 2025 advocates the need to restrict freedom of expression: it directs the DOJ to investigate and prosecute private actors involved in promoting equity and inclusion programs, revokes protections for online freedom of expression, and
contemplates denying access to the White House Press Corps.
By limiting content and imposing editorial self-censorship, today's tech giants pose a growing threat to free speech, undermining the very freedom they claim.
In an increasingly dense atmosphere where freedom of expression seems increasingly subordinated to the cycles of political power and Trumpism, this refusal to publish a caricature by award-winning cartoonist Ann Telnaes only reinforces the general idea that Press and Freedom of Expression in America, even in the mainstream media, is hopelessly subordinate to the power of the tech giants, which in turn are beholden to Trump's whims!
The recent episode involving American billionaire Elon Musk accused of interfering in the upcoming German elections, after he gave his support to the far-right party, Alternative for Germany (AfD) in X posts and in an article by opinion published by the newspaper Welt am Sonntag reinforced the danger of its growing global political influence.
The rise of political influence of these technology giants like Elon Musk or Jeff Bezos is symptomatic of our times of neofeudal capitalism and a real danger to the freedom, quality and veracity of information around the world.
Can money and power buy free editorial speech in America?
I think the current answer to this question is not difficult! - YES IT CAN!
Washington Post Cartoonist Quits After Jeff Bezos Cartoon Is Killed - The New York Times www.nytimes.com/2025/01/03/business/media/washington-post...
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A Influencia Crescente dos Tech Giants, Trump E A Liberdade De Expressão Editorial - o Caso Ann Telnaes
A cartoonista vencedora do Prémio Pulitzer, Ann Telnaes, anunciou na sexta-feira que se tinha demitido do The Washington Post depois de o jornal se ter recusado a publicar uma caricatura satírica retratando o bilionário proprietário do Post, Jeff Bezos, ajoelhado em frente ao presidente eleito Donald Trump.
Ann Telnaes criou cartoons editoriais em vários meios para o The Washington Post. Venceu o Prémio Pulitzer em 2001, o Prémio Reuben da National Cartoonists Society para Cartunista de Destaque do Ano em 2016 e o Prémio Herblock de cartoonista editorial em 2023, entre outros.
Se este acontecimento só por si já é grave em termos de liberdade de expressão de um dos Jornais De Referencia Americanos, torna-se ainda mais grave num país que sempre defendeu a liberdade de expressão e editorial em todo o mundo.
Mas uma coisa é certa: o direito constitucional à liberdade de expressão da Primeira Emenda, que é aplicável aos governos estaduais e locais ao abrigo da doutrina da incorporação, apenas impede as restrições governamentais à liberdade de expressão, e não as restrições impostas por indivíduos ou empresas privadas, a menos que estejam a agir em nome do governo.
Desde a provável eleição de Trump, vários jornais adotaram uma abordagem mais cautelosa não endossando um candidato presidencial pela primeira vez em 38 anos nas presidenciais americanas de 2024.
Np Washington Post o endosso foi bloqueado pelo seu proprietário Jeff Bezos e assim o jornal não apoiou nenhum dos candidatos; mas ao bloquear o apoio de Harris, pareceu, de facto, um apoio a Trump.
Na altura dois escritores deixaram o conselho editorial do Post, dois colunistas abandonaram o jornal e a decisão de não fazer um endosso foi fortemente criticada por Marty Baron, o respeitado ex-editor executivo do Post, e pelos lendários jornalistas do Post, Bob Woodward e Carl Bernstein. Na mesma altura , mais de 250.000 leitores cancelaram as suas subscrições.
Desde que entrou na política, há uma década, Donald Trump tem castigado os jornalistas pelo seu cepticismo e independência, chamando aos media “inimigos do povo”, uma “ameaça à democracia”, “media falsos” que promete processar. Garantido um segundo mandato, estará livre para cumprir as suas promessas.
Aliás no Projeto 2025 de Trump, defende-se a necessidade de restringir a liberdade de expressão: orienta o DOJ a investigar e processar os atores privados envolvidos na promoção de programas de equidade e inclusão, revoga as proteções da liberdade de expressão online e
contempla negar o acesso ao Corpo de Imprensa da Casa Branca.
Ao limitar conteudos e impor uma auto-censura editorial os gigantes tecnológicos de hoje representam uma ameaça crescente à liberdade de expressão, minando a própria liberdade que reivindicam.
Numa atmosfera cada vez mais densa, em que a liberdade de expressão parece cada vez mais subordinada aos ciclos do poder político e do Trumpismo, esta recusa em publicar uma caricatura da premiada cartoonista Ann Telnaes apenas reforça a ideia geral de que a Imprensa e a Liberdade de Expressão na América, mesmo nos principais meios de comunicação, estão irremediavelmente subordinadas ao poder dos gigantes tecnológicos, por sua vez rendidos aos caprichos de Trump !
O recente episódio que envolveu o multimilionário norte-americano Elon Musk acusado de interferir nas próximas eleições Alemãs, depois de este ter dado o seu apoio ao partido de extrema-direita, Alternativa para a Alemanha (AfD ) em X posts e em um artigo de opinião publicado pelo jornal Welt am Sonntag veio reforçar o perigo da sua crescente inflencia politica global.
A ascensão da influência política destes gigantes tecnológicos como Elon Musk ou Jeff Bezos é sintomática dos nossos tempos de capitalismo neo-feudal e um perigo real para a liberdade, qualidade e veracidade da informação em todo o mundo.
Pode o dinheiro e o poder comprar liberdade de expressão editorial na América? Penso que a resposta atual a esta questão não é difícil! - Sim PODE!
Washington Post Cartoonist Quits After Jeff Bezos Cartoon Is Killed - The New York Times www.nytimes.com/2025/01/03/business/media/washington-post...
"St Rose of Lima lived only 31 years, yet her influence extended to all the world. Her parents refused to give her permission to enter a convent, and so she obediently stayed at home, living a largely solitary life of penance and being a member of the Third Order of St. Dominic. She is well known for her extraordinary penances but they were never the main game for her. The main game was serving God and others and she did whatever seemed to help. Opening her own home for the homeless, the sick and elderly was the beginning of social services in Peru.
So many miracles followed her death that she was the first American to be canonised.
Now she is the Patron Saint of the Americas, North and South, of Peru and Lima in particular, of Indigenous Peoples, of the Philippines, of India, of gardeners, florists and needleworkers, of people ridiculed for their piety, of people struggling with vanity and of people with trouble in their family. That’s a lot of people who look to her for inspiration and intercession. We too look to her for inspiration and intercession, particularly on this her Feast Day."
– Archbishop Anthony Fisher OP of Sydney.
Stained glass window from the chapel of the Dominican nuns in Buffalo, NY.
96-gallon Toter trash cart
Rubatino Refuse Removal
Everett, WA
May 2015
©Bryn Erdman. All Rights Reserved.
Austria, Graz, Town Hall of the second largest city of Austria. Around 1550, the city administration moved into a modest Renaissance building on the main square of town. The massive increase in population in the 19th century & the growing confidence of citizens led the establishment to the present Town Hall designed by the Viennese architects Wielemans & Reuter, completion 1893.
The main facade of the town hall in late-historic-old German style has been greatly simplified in the 20th century. For the town-hall all the existing houses of the block were planned to be demolished. This project did not quite succeeded, so can be found at the “Herrengasse”, the main avenue, three narrow town houses literally chucked in the expansive town hall building. Their owners had refused to "sacrifice" their houses for the new town hall, for many a symbol of the rumoured “stubbornness” of the Styrian people.
The architectural competition for a new town hall in 1886 involved also the Graz-born Georg Hauberrisser. In his hometown his project was not realized, however, another town hall building should give him glory,…that of Munich/Bavaria.
...Danke, Xièxie 谢谢, Thanks, Gracias, Merci, Grazie, Obrigado, Arigatô, Dhanyavad, Chokrane to you & over
4,3 million visits in my photostream with countless motivating comments
History Refused to Die: Highlights from the Souls Grown Deep Foundation Gift.
Lucy T.Pettway American, Boykin Alabama 1921 – 2004 Boykin
Housetop and Bricklayer with Bars quilt , ca. 1955
Cotton and acetate
Lucy T. Pettway was known to be a keen observer of the world around her. She carried paper and pencil as she walked to and from her work in the fields each day and jotted down things that caught her eye, later using them as inspiration for her quilt designs. This extraordinary work is the only Gee’s Bend Quit in the collection that seems to be intentionally pictorial. Using the favored Housetop and Bricklayer pattern blocks, Pettway created an imaginary aerial view of the old Pettway plantation, with the large owner’s house at the top and four slave cabins below. The small printed calicos to the left of the houses represent the fields, while on the right, the blue Alabama River flows between red banks.
Gift of Souls Grown Deep Foundation from the William S. Arnett Colleciton, 2014 (2014.548.52)
From the Placard: The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, NY
www.soulsgrowndeep.org/artist/lucy-t-pettway
www.metmuseum.org/exhibitions/listings/2018/history-refus...
www.nytimes.com/2018/05/24/arts/design/history-refused-to...
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Image Serial No# 021126102011-FB
Description :
Deepavali or Diwali [note 1], popularly known as the "festival of lights," is a festival celebrated between mid-October and mid-November for different reasons. For Hindus, Diwali is one of the most important festivals of the year and is celebrated in families by performing traditional activities together in their homes. For Jains, Diwali marks the attainment of moksha or nirvana by Mahavira in 527 BC.[1][2]
Deepavali is an official holiday in India,[3] Nepal, Sri Lanka, Myanmar, Mauritius, Guyana, Trinidad & Tobago, Suriname, Malaysia, Singapore,[4] and Fiji.
The name "Diwali" is a contraction of "Deepavali" (Sanskrit: दीपावली Dīpāvalī), which translates into "row of lamps".[5] Diwali involves the lighting of small clay lamps (diyas or dīpas) in Sanskrit: दीप) filled with oil to signify the triumph of good over evil. During Diwali, all the celebrants wear new clothes and share sweets and snacks with family members and friends.
The festival starts with Dhanteras on which most Indian business communities begin their financial year. The second day of the festival, Naraka Chaturdasi, marks the vanquishing of the demon Naraka by Lord Krishna and his wife Satyabhama. Amavasya, the third day of Deepawali, marks the worship of Lakshmi, the goddess of wealth in her most benevolent mood, fulfilling the wishes of her devotees. Amavasya also tells the story of Lord Vishnu, who in his dwarf incarnation vanquished the Bali, and banished him to Patala. It is on the fourth day of Deepawali, Kartika Shudda Padyami, that Bali went to patala and took the reins of his new kingdom in there. The fifth day is referred to as Yama Dvitiya (also called Bhai Dooj), and on this day sisters invite their brothers to their homes.
This is a Series Work and for other photo , Plz Visit my set Deepavlee_2011 Here
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Title:
Homeward bound.
日本語のあらすじ等は下の方にあります😃
B♭ (B Flat)
A Novel by Mitsushiro Nakagawa
“Synopsis”
A Palestinian group from Gaza hacks into North Korea’s cryptocurrency system, stealing hundreds of millions of dollars. Their true goal is not money—but to recreate the lost homeland of Gaza on American soil.
Amid the backdrop of hardline Republican immigration policies and a growing wave of xenophobia, a quiet plan begins to take shape: the gradual collapse of America from within.
During a speech at Madison Square Garden, Republican presidential candidate Justin Bradford is shot. Almost simultaneously in Los Angeles, former president Owen Reed is attacked at a rally for Democratic hopeful Ryan Bennett.
Two assassinations—mirroring one another—ignite a nation’s deepest divide. Yet, against all odds, Justin survives. His blood type is one in 2.5 million: the Bombay Blood Group.
The only person who can donate such blood is Anaya Patel, a community art facilitator working in Brooklyn. Her blood, stored in the Bellevue Hospital Blood Bank, is used for an emergency transfusion that saves the candidate’s life.
Jack Vance, an agent of the U.S. Secret Service, suspects a Gaza-based network behind the attacks. Together with Cameron Bartlett, the FBI Director of the Los Angeles Field Office, and Veronica Reeves, a senior investigator from New York, he begins to uncover a vast conspiracy.
Their investigation leads them to Rafi Gannam, a former architecture student at the Islamic University of Gaza, who has infiltrated redevelopment sites across Los Angeles and New York—embedding C4 explosives deep within beams and structural cores.
His targets: new residential districts where agents of ICE (Immigration and Customs Enforcement) and ERO (Enforcement and Removal Operations) live—symbols of “the order America built.”
Veronica urges the President to pursue dialogue to prevent further destruction, but President Grant M. Ranford refuses to listen.
Meanwhile, the recovering Justin and his Democratic rival Ryan appear on national television, calling for unity beyond political divisions.
Their words of reason, however, are drowned out when Grant takes the stage in Iowa, defiantly declaring: “We will never bow to terror.”
Among the crowd, Rafi’s operatives have already taken their positions.
As chaos erupts and the stage collapses, Amir Nasser—once Rafi’s comrade, haunted by the memory of his sister’s death in Gaza—tries desperately to halt the chain of destruction.
But Rafi’s conviction remains unshaken.
Under the twilight beneath the Williamsburg Bridge, amid the city’s fading noise, the two men part ways.
It is the boundary between prayer and vengeance, between hope and nothingness.
“Characters”
Anaya Patel – 25, Community Art Facilitator
Arjun Singh – 26, Anaya’s boyfriend, Luminatech Innovations
Mika Sato – 25, Anaya’s friend, Community Art Facilitator
Justin Bradford – 27, Republican Presidential Candidate
Eleanor Blake – 26, Justin’s fiancée
President Grant M. Langford – 61, Incumbent Republican President
Vice President Charles “Chuck” Baines – 64, Incumbent Republican Vice President
Ryan Bennett – 30, Democratic Presidential Candidate
Sophia Bennett – 30, Ryan’s wife
Owen Reed – 65, Former Democratic President
Jack Vance – 45, Secret Service, Former FBI Los Angeles Field Office
Ben Holloway – 30, Jack’s colleague
Darryl Ross – 29, Jack’s colleague
Elijah Kane – 28, Jack’s colleague
Marcus Dane – 45, FBI Los Angeles Field Office
Cameron Bartlett – 55, FBI Los Angeles Field Office, Field Office Director
Tom Caldwell – 38, FBI Technical Unit, Marcus’s subordinate
Veronica Reeves – 41, FBI Special Agent
Alexander Harris – 52, FBI New York Field Office, Field Office Director
Elliot Chen – 36, Technology Unit Chief
Alicia Monroe – 58, FBI Director
Zakaria Haddad – 51, Gaza Strip, Palestine; Former Islamic University Engineering Professor, New York Team
Amir Nasser – 23, Gaza Strip, Palestine; Former Islamic University Electronics Engineering, New York Team
Rafi Gannam – 32, Gaza Strip, Palestine; Islamic University, Architecture, New York Team
Rohan Shah – 29, Gaza Strip, Palestine; Islamic University, Architecture, New York Team
Majid Hamza – 47, Gaza Strip, Palestine; University of Palestine, Information Technology, Los Angeles Team
Samira Hammad – 28, Gaza Strip, Palestine; University of Palestine, Engineering, Los Angeles Team
Saeed Kabari – 35, Gaza Strip, Palestine; University of Palestine, Business Administration, Los Angeles Team
Reem Nasser – 30, Gaza Strip, Palestine; University of Palestine, Media Studies, Los Angeles Team
Noah Levi – 55, Israel, residing in Tel Aviv, Jewish
B♭ will be released worldwide on February 29, 2026.
Recently, director Ridley Scott remarked that streaming films and series have become dull.
I agree.
If you have two hours to spare for such stories, I ask for only two minutes of your time.
Two minutes with my novel will outlast those two hours.
I am confident of that.
Stay tuned.
Mitsushiro
October 9th, 2025
P.S.
Micchan — the man who challenges Netflix. 😃
(Nikon Coolpix 8700 shot)
Manhattan. New York. USA. 2007. … 2 / 12
(Photo of the day. This has already been published, but I recently re-edited it from the original.)
Images.
George Michael - Praying For Time (Official Video)
youtu.be/goroyZbVdlo?si=qflkQegGItML2KTH
Images.
GEORGE MICHAEL - Praying for time (live in London, 21/11/2004)
youtu.be/XwaU2AYYbkM?si=UJNpvtvaRQwbP2_H
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My new novel:
B♭ (B-flat)
There’s still more to come. 😃
(This is not the final draft.)
Set in New York City.
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:: Soundtrack ::
B♭ ( My Novel . Soundtrack )
music.apple.com/jp/playlist/b-my-novel-soundtrack/pl.u-47...
B♭ ( My Novel . Soundtrack . For Japanese)
music.apple.com/jp/playlist/b-my-novel-soundtrack-for-jap...
B♭ ( My Novel . Soundtrack . Sweet Summer rain ver.)
music.apple.com/jp/playlist/b-my-novel-soundtrack-sweet-s...
B♭ ( My Novel . Soundtrack . Hard days ver.)
music.apple.com/jp/playlist/b-my-novel-soundtrack-hard-da...
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Note: I gave a brief explanation of this novel in the following video:
youtu.be/3w65lqUF-YI?si=yG7qy6TPeCL9xRJV
My new novel:
B♭ (B-flat)
Notes
1. "Bombay Blood Type (hh type)"
•Characteristics: A rare blood type that lacks the usual ABO antigens — cannot be classified as A, B, or O.
•Discovery: First identified in 1952 in Mumbai, India (formerly Bombay).
•Prevalence: Roughly 1 in 10,000 people in India; globally, about 1 in 2.5 million.
•Transfusion Compatibility: Only compatible with blood from other Bombay type donors.
2. 2024 Harvard University Valedictorian Speech – The Power of Not Knowing
youtu.be/SOUH8iVqSOI?si=Ju-Y728irtcWR71K
3. Shots Fired at Trump Rally
youtu.be/1ejfAkzjEhk?si=ASqJwEmkY-2rW_hT
Mitsushiro Nakagawa belong to Lot No. 402 _.Copyright©︎2025 Lot No.402_ All rights reserved.
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Title:
家路。
僕の新しい小説
B♭ （ビーフラット） ……. Mitsushiro Nakagawa
“あらすじ”
北朝鮮の仮想通貨システムをハッキングし、数億ドルを奪取したガザ出身のパレスチナ人グループが、アメリカ合衆国へ密かに潜入する。
彼らの目的は、失われた祖国ガザを、アメリカの地に「復元」することだった。
共和党による強硬な移民政策と、国内にくすぶる排外感情を利用し、アメリカ社会を内側から崩壊させる計画が静かに進行していく。
共和党大統領候補ジャスティン・ブラッドフォードがマディソン・スクエア・ガーデンで演説中に狙撃され、ほぼ同時刻、ロサンゼルスでは前大統領オーウェン・リードもまた、民主党候補ライアン・ベネットの集会で撃たれる。
国家を二分する双方向の暗殺。だが、ジャスティンは奇跡的に生還する。
彼の血液型は、世界でわずか250万人に一人といわれる「ボンベイブラッド」。
その希少な血を提供できたのは、ブルックリンで活動するコミュニティアート・ファシリテーター、アナヤ・パテルだった。
彼女の血液はベルビュー病院の血液バンクに保存されており、緊急輸血によって、候補者の命はかろうじて繋がれた。
シークレットサービスのジャック・バンスは、テロの背後にガザ出身の組織が関与していることを察知し、FBIロサンゼルス支局長官キャメロン・バートレット、ニューヨーク支局の特別捜査官ヴェロニカ・リーブスと共に捜査を進める。
やがて彼らは、イスラム大学で建築学を学んだラフィ・ガンナムが、ロサンゼルスやニューヨークの再開発現場に潜入し、梁や構造体の中枢にC4爆薬を仕込んでいた事実に辿り着く。
標的は、ICE（移民・関税執行局）やERO（執行・送還作戦部門）の職員が暮らす新興住宅街——すなわち、「アメリカが築いた秩序」そのものだった。
ヴェロニカは、これ以上の破壊を防ぐため、大統領への対話を進言するが、現職のグラント・ランフォード大統領は耳を貸さない。
一方、命を取り留めたジャスティンと民主党候補ライアンは、テレビを通じて国民に訴えかけ、分断を乗り越えようとする。
だが、その理性の声を嘲笑うかのように、グラントはアイオワ州での演説を強行し、「テロには屈しない」と宣言する。
その会場には、すでにラフィの仲間が率いる工作チームが潜入していた。
崩壊する会場の惨状を前に、仲間の一人アミール・ナッセルは、かつてガザで妹を失った記憶に引き裂かれ、破壊の連鎖を止めようとする。
だが、ラフィの信念は揺るがない。
ウィリアムズバーグ橋の下、夕暮れの喧騒のなか、二人は決別する。
それは、祈りと報復、希望と虚無の境界線だった——。
“登場人物”
アナヤ・パテル ２５歳 コミュニティアート・ファシリテーター
アルジュン・シン ２６歳 アナヤの恋人・ルミナテック・イノベーションズ社
佐藤 ミカ ２５歳 アナの友人・コミュニティアート・ファシリテーター
ジャスティン・ブラッドフォード ２７歳 共和党大統領候補
エリノア・ブレイク ２６歳 ジャスティンの婚約者
グラント・M・ランフォード大統領 ６１歳 共和党大統領現職
チャールズ・ベインズ副大統領 ６４歳 共和党副大統領現職
ライアン・ベネット ３０歳 民主党大統領候補
ソフィア・ベネット ３０歳 ライアンの妻
オーウェン・リード ６５歳 民主党前大統領
ジャック・バンス ４５歳 シークレットサービス 元FBIロサンゼルス支局
ベン・ホロウェイ ３０歳 ジャックの同僚
ダリル・ロス ２９歳 ジャックの同僚
イライジャ・ケイン ２８歳 ジャックの同僚
マーカス・デイン ４５歳 FBI ロサンゼルス支局
キャメロン・バートレット ５５歳 FBI ロサンゼルス支局 支局長
トム・コールドウェル ３８歳 FBI技術班 マーカスの部下
ヴェロニカ・リーヴス ４１歳 FBI特別捜査官
アレクサンダー・ハリス ５２歳 FBI ニューヨーク支局 支局長
エリオット・チェン ３６歳 テクノロジー班主任
アリシア・モンロー ５８歳 FBI長官
ザカリア・ハッダード ５１歳 パレスチナ・ガザ地区 元イスラム大学 工学部教授 ニューヨークチーム
アミール・ナッセル ２３歳 パレスチナ・ガザ地区 元イスラム大学 電子工学部 ニューヨークチーム
ラフィ・ガンナム ３２歳 パレスチナ・ガザ地区 イスラム大学 建築学部 ニューヨークチーム
ロハン・シャー ２９歳 パレスチナ・ガザ地区 イスラム大学 建築学部 ニューヨークチーム
マジード・ハムザ ４７歳 パレスチナ・ガザ地区 パレスチナ大学 情報技術学部 ロサンゼルスチーム
サミラ・ハンマド ２８歳 パレスチナ・ガザ地区 パレスチナ大学 工学部 ロサンゼルスチーム
サイード・カバリ ３５歳 パレスチナ・ガザ地区 パレスチナ大学 経営学部 ロサンゼルスチーム
リーム・ナセル ３０歳 パレスチナ・ガザ地区 パレスチナ大学 メディア学部 ロサンゼルスチーム
ノア・レヴィ 55歳 イスラエル テルアビブ在住 ユダヤ人
僕のこの小説は、来年、２０２６年２月末日に公開します。
先日、リドリースコット監督がサブスクの映画やドラマ群がつまらないと話していたようだけど、同感です。
僕も非常に退屈です。
それらに2時間を要するなら、僕の小説を２分間だけ読んで欲しい。
その2分間は、２時間を越えるでしょう。
僕は自信があります。
ぜひ、期待してお待ちください。
Mitsushiro Nakagawa
09th. Oct . 2025.
追伸
ネトフリに挑戦する男、みっちゃん。😃
( Nikon coolpix 8700 shot )
マンハッタン。ニューヨーク。アメリカ。2007. … 2 / 12
(今日の写真。それは発表済みです。しかし最近、オリジナルから再編集しました。）
Images.
George Michael - Praying For Time (Official Video)
youtu.be/goroyZbVdlo?si=qflkQegGItML2KTH
Images.
GEORGE MICHAEL - Praying for time (live in London, 21/11/2004)
youtu.be/XwaU2AYYbkM?si=UJNpvtvaRQwbP2_H
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僕の新しい小説。
B♭ （ビーフラット）
舞台はニューヨークです。
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:: Soundtrack ::
B♭ ( My Novel . Soundtrack )
music.apple.com/jp/playlist/b-my-novel-soundtrack/pl.u-47...
B♭ ( My Novel . Soundtrack . For Japanese)
music.apple.com/jp/playlist/b-my-novel-soundtrack-for-jap...
B♭ ( My Novel . Soundtrack . Sweet Summer rain ver.)
music.apple.com/jp/playlist/b-my-novel-soundtrack-sweet-s...
B♭ ( My Novel . Soundtrack . Hard days ver.)
music.apple.com/jp/playlist/b-my-novel-soundtrack-hard-da...
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Note: I gave a brief explanation of this novel in the following video:
youtu.be/3w65lqUF-YI?si=yG7qy6TPeCL9xRJV
追記 この小説を多少説明しました。
youtu.be/3w65lqUF-YI?si=yG7qy6TPeCL9xRJV
メモ
1
「Bombay型（ボンベイ型、hh型）」
•特徴：通常のABO血液型を持たない（A、B、Oに分類されない）特殊な型。
•発見地：1952年、インド・ムンバイ（旧ボンベイ）で初めて確認。
•発生頻度：インドでは1万人に1人程度だが、世界的には約250万人に1人とも。
•輸血制限：同じBombay型しか輸血できない。
2
2024年ハーバード大学首席の卒業式スピーチ『知らないことの力』
youtu.be/SOUH8iVqSOI?si=Ju-Y728irtcWR71K
3
Shots fired at Trump rally
youtu.be/1ejfAkzjEhk?si=ASqJwEmkY-2rW_hT
Mitsushiro Nakagawa belong to Lot No. 402 _.Copyright©︎2025 Lot No.402_ All rights reserved.
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17 years ago, click on the link
www.youtube.com/watch?v=72vEVSt6lpo&feature=related
The worms of the senses ponder quickly towards destruction. Winning is not everything but in our elitist competitive society it is all that matters. Rice cakes for the people and caviar for the leaders who built our world around machines, money and matter. We were left out of the plan and our destination is set by the used car dealer or the factory boss. Bored we walk home with our heads hanging and our creativity stolen as an effect of capitalist gain. In a dream state there is nothing more than simple abstraction of the mind from the matter and the belief that work will somehow “macht frei”. The theory that Marx recognized from Feuerbach, and no we, the people, need to see the spectacle that binds us to our “destiny”. Alienation is not commodity, figures, statistics or make believe but very much a real tool of oppression and seclusion. If we can’t take our part then we must not take part. The faculties of the skull are another dimension of that which is sucking us dry. The imperialisation of the third world is dominant even in our taste for soft drinks and afternoon snacks. With dry wits and knuckles dragging the ground co-operations claim that profit is rightfully theirs and that the blood squeezed out of Africa, South America, Burma, The Baltic states and South Asia is nothing but market interest and public craving. Their products are death and they are salesmen of corruption and power abuse. They are the slave dealers of our time. They are the inquisition. They are the machine that must be stopped.
Turn the knob and wait for the liberating sound of ecstasy and revolution. Who pays the newsman and who owns the radio stations and who runs the record label? Who benefits from the de-politicizing in art and music and who benefits from the clean sound of the next pop wonder? Who runs the game show and who pays the salaries to the reporters? Here and now we offer you a taste of our liberation frequency, provided by us for your satisfaction and excitement. This is radio clash, 33 Revolutions Per Minute, our haven of thoughts and ideas. It could be yours too, if only you’d let yourself go and turn the knob and listen and love and sing and think.
Stuck by the deadly rhythm of the production line. Stuck by the conditions set by the capitalist market. Stuck by the necessities of living and forced to take part. If we are tired it is because we are supposed to be and if we are hungry it is because we have to be and if we are bored it is because it is expected of us. Bored and chained and stuck and dead. New forms of work camps are arranged and new ways of hiding the monotonous beat of slavery are being presented. The preliminary condition required for propelling the workers to the status of “free” producers and consumers of commodity was the violent expropriation of their own time. The spectacular return of time was made possible only after this dispossession of power. Urbanism is capitalism’s seizure of the natural and human environment; developing logically into absolute domination, capitalism can and must now remake the totality of space into it’s own setting. Time, work, environment and joy all have their norms set by modern ways of production.
The awkward youngster touches his poster and glances upon the stars and the heavens. The day seems neverending and there is a certain notion of innocence and childhood play. The mantra will be repeated and we will learn to obey and love and cherish the chosen few. Manners inconceivable and then we have to live. Ideals corrupted and echoes from the past about ideas once held true are shining like untouchable constellations. But we are all stars, shining and burning, cruising down the highway looking for the next stop and the next break from capitalised boredom and slavery. Then there is the option of summer holidays vs. punk routine. Then there is greed and money and fallen heroes. “We are all tired of dying”. So why not try and live for a change and turn that glimmering into bright shining creation through the realisation that you know everything and that you are you?
Must I paint you a picture about the way that I feel? This situation of Art vs. Life and the present elitism within the bourgeoisie and upper-class. The critics hold their heads high cause they know about the real suffering and the real work while we get the easy accessible forms of communication and entertainment, pinned down simple for us to comprehend. The lack of stimulants within art, politics and life lowers our standards which is why we settle for talkshows and MTV. We are not stupid, but if we are treated like ingrates we will start to act like children. The lack of challenging forms of expression and thoughts of fire and self-confidence gives us a passive and hollow nature. So reclaim art, take back the fine culture for the people, the working people, the living people and burn down their art galleries and destroy their fancy constructions and buildings. Cause we, unlike the bourgeoisie, have nothing to lose and therefore our expression will be the only honest one, our words will be the only challenging ones and our art will be the one revolutionary expression. We need new noise and new voices and new canvases to become something more than the last poets of a useless generation.
The credentials with which we call upon you are simple linguistics thrown and tossed liked flaming songs of discontent. The Refused party programme screams out not 1, not 2, not 3, not 4, not 5 but 6 opinions and 6 structures of change and 6 levels of liberation. All in all not mystical but direct and attractive and as we shout “Yeah” you’ll feel the same sensation best described by Tomas Paine: “Let them call me rebel and welcome, I feel no concern from it; but I should suffer the misery of devils, were I to make a whore of my soul...”. Here and now and all the time the mythical touch and the obvious message. Behold the wisdom of the party program.
Pro (in favour) – attest (testify for).
The time is now and still we sit and wait for it to become the now that we think we need. The movement of protest has strong traditions and we are far from the first to recognise and use the power of the song and the words from the young poets. We are trembling from the taste of days gone to waste and there is inspiration and there is clarity. Phil Ochs stated firmly “If I have something to say I’m going to say it now” and still protest song 68 is nothing more than a pastiche, a blueprint of seduction of the echoes that once filled the corridors of dorms and boys/girls rooms in an era where rebellion and revolt was present in art and music. From the first until the last, from the taste of longing freedom to the shackles of oppression, the weapon of the artist has always been used.
Refused are fuckin dead that’s what the answering machine said, looks like this is it!!! They talked one to many shit about the upper-class and the government, did you hear what those faggots said in some fanzine someone else read. I heard they are a bunch of spoiled little rich kids who need to get their asses kicked. Fuckin ingrates! Fuckin pussies!! Refused are fuckin dead guaw huydsas kjhds aowedde (fighting sequence). Refused are fuckin dead by order of the postmaster general just like the panthers only this time for real because SAPO have tapped their telephones and the Umeå police raided their homes and they must have been killed.
Are you ready baby? For the shape of punk to come. Get the equipment together and we’ll meet at the show. It’s gruesome that someone so handsome should care. We all recognise the hint of the programme screaming at the top of his lungs that “We’re all dressed up and we got somewhere to go”. Like the rebellious swing kids of the 40’s or the crazy jazz heads of the 50’s to the stylish mods of the 60’s we all need to recognise that style in contradiction to fashion is necessary to challenge the conservatism of the youth cultures placed upon us. Strict in our style but with a touch of elegance and freedom and individualism. The uniform and the production of constructive challenges comes in the most unexpected of shapes, Ornette Coleman reinvented jazz altogether and we need a new beat to move to so grab your partner and ask: Do you want to go out with me, watch me get on my knees and bleed? This blind date might take you to places unknown and it will be new and scary and vital. But nonetheless there is no danger in exploration and searching. It never tasted this great to scream “yes” and you never had more enticing cavalier to hold hands with. The new teen hysteria of noise and kisses and politics and crazy entertainment and naked fun and beats and books and poetry and travelling and style. It’s never been safe to live in a world that teaches us to respect property and disregard human life. So drop your belongings and get on this soul train, dig the static sound and think that maybe this once there is just us, the kids, playing the day away, it’s just us kicking over statues and smashing windows of houses of parliaments, just to show them who has the real power. This blind date will take us anywhere we want.
A dream only lasts so long. Imagine the pyramids inhabited by aliens and the dark corridors and the dreams and the longing for better financial conditions. The sweat pours down your neck and you run and you run, heart beating, head pounding, alive tonight. The streets never sleep, they are glowing, vibrating with the echoes of laughter and joy, screams and curses. We just need to take the time and see what it can offer us and how we can break free from this boredom that the capitalist reign has forced upon us. Tonight we can be as mighty as tannhäuser and we can tumble excited down the labyrinths and the turns knowing that derive` is potent. So where do we go from here?
The Apollo programme was a hoax or so we say. The biggest lie was market economy that blinded us with the glory of prosperity and freedom. The deck was dealt and we all lost, on our knees in the dirt hoping for salvation and then we look and there are golden drops of dawn functioning as oral sagas, keeping us shackled, making glory of the lies that the spectacle provides us with. So as we sit tight and enjoy the soap operas that are designed to keep us bleeding out of our eyes and keeps us nodding and sighing, there is still hope in the petrol bomb and in it, the revolution. For in the destruction and the overthrowing there is a certainty of salvation. We need to destroy the museum and it’s old artefacts, we need to tear down the power structures that enslaves and then in revolution we can live and be alive. Yes, this is our hymn and our praise to the brave and bold stranger in the night, to the fed up worker and the angry wife. Hope, revolution and dedication. Fight fire with fire and everything will burn. Yeah.
This manifesto is very much for real.
-by Refused
waoh,i've never thought my hair looked this red!
Early travelers crossing the desert to Syria got their first view of Damascus from the top of Jebel Qassioun, a gently sloped mountain northwest of town. It was not a sight they soon forgot.
The prophet Muhammad refused to descend into the city, declaring that one could enter paradise only once and he would save himself for the one above. A thousand or so years later, Mark Twain loved the view but found the city, on closer inspection, "crooked and cramped and dirty." Muhammad, he decided, "was wise without knowing it."
Though my arrival in Syria was by Airbus rather than by desert caravan, I knew my first stop had to be Qassioun mountain. I dropped my bags at the hotel, quickly arranged for a car and, by the time dusk began to gather, was sitting at an outdoor cafe perched high above Damascus.
My driver, a 25-year-old named Mohammed Madal, grew wistful. "Every time we return to our country," he said, "we have to come to Qassioun to feel like a Syrian again."
A warm, dry breeze brushed our faces and the lights of Damascus winked to life, the glowing emerald rings of its minarets coming into view. In the distance were the oval-shaped ramparts of Old Damascus, the Old City, where I would spend the next day trying to discover who was right, the prophet or the wit.
ANCIENT ALLURE
For longer than I can remember, I had wanted to visit Damascus. As a young boy, I was enchanted by the biblical stories of Paul's road-to-Damascus conversion. Later, as a correspondent in Africa, I was captivated by friends' tales of a Middle East city that brimmed with history and yet, owing to its political isolation, was rarely visited by Western tourists.
My opportunity came on a stopover I engineered on the way home from a business trip to South Asia. My schedule permitted just one full day of exploration, so I had to make the most of it.
Early the next morning, on a sunny fall day last year, I set out on foot from my hotel for the Souk al-Hamadiye, the largest and best known of the Old City souks, or Arab markets, and the main pedestrian entrance.
As I turned into the souk, I was immediately struck by its size. The wide cobblestone street, which dated from Roman times, was lined with the narrow facades of two-story shops. An arched dome of corrugated iron rose high above the avenue, and pinpoints of sunlight beamed through bullet holes dating to the 1920s, when French warplanes put down an uprising of Arab nationalists.
The crowds were thinned by the Ramadan holiday, the annual month of sunup-to-sundown fasting for Muslims, but shops were open. It was clear that this was a working street in a working city, a place where Syrians shopped for clothing, rugs and furniture.
I strolled through the Hamadiye souk for nearly half a mile and emerged into a sunny courtyard dominated by the 30-foot-tall remnant of a Roman archway. Men lined up at an outdoor scale to weigh themselves, and shops sold worry beads and Bedouin jewelry.
Rising from the far end of the courtyard was the western wall of the great Umayyad Mosque, one of the holiest sites in Islam. I walked around to the tourist office, paid 50 Syrian pounds (about $1) to a man behind a metal desk and was issued a ticket for the day.
The site of the mosque has been a place of worship since the 9th century BC, when the Aramaeans built a temple to their god. It was later a temple to the Roman god Jupiter and, when Emperor Constantine became a Christian, it was replaced by a basilica dedicated to John the Baptist.
The Christians were nudged out in the 8th century, when Damascus became the capital of the early Islamic world, and the current structure was built. The mosque complex, including a courtyard and prayer hall, is vast -- 200 yards long by 100 yards wide -- and enclosed by enormous walls that still hold some of the Roman temple's original stonework. The three corner minarets and the Dome of the Eagle, which stands on four pillars inside the south wall, are visible for miles.
I lined up with the faithful, doffed my shoes and entered the red-carpeted hall, which echoed with the muezzin's call to prayer. Velvet ropes divided the cavernous hall lengthwise into three distinct sections. Along the south wall, facing Mecca, hundreds of men prayed. On the north side, robed women chatted and tended to children.
In the broad middle, visitors took photographs, strollers gazed at mosaics on the walls, men read the Koran and people napped on the carpet. The smell of socks was, at times, strong.
Near the center of the hall was a prominent, if incongruous, reminder of the pre-Islamic history of this house of worship -- an ornately decorated green-glass monument, about the size of a large car, said to be the tomb of John the Baptist.
CITY OF EMPIRES
From the mosque, I set off to explore the crooked, narrow streets.
The Old City is an antique gemstone surrounded by a traffic-clogged metropolis of 4 million. Modern-day Damascus spreads across a valley of drab apartment buildings sprouting satellite dishes like mushrooms. But the Old City, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, is an oasis of layered history that exudes a charming timelessness.
I wandered through a warren of alleyways scented with cumin, apple-flavored tobacco and, occasionally, rotting garbage. Kiosks were selling spices and nuts from overflowing wood bins, rope rings of yellow figs and perfumes from rows of plastic bottles.
In one narrow alley, I passed a horse-drawn carriage painted bright blue with a long diesel-fuel container in the back. As the horse clip-clopped along, the operator cupped his hand to his mouth, calling out his arrival, offering to fill residents' cooking-fuel tanks.
The Old City claims to have been continuously inhabited for nearly 5,000 years, and it resembles a Hollywood back lot, with sets from the Assyrian, Babylonian, Persian, Roman, Byzantine, Arab and Ottoman empires standing side by side and, sometimes, on top of one another. As Twain put it in "The Innocents Abroad," "Damascus . . . has looked upon the dry bones of a thousand empires and will see the tombs of a thousand more before she dies."
The U.S. State Department officially discourages travel to Syria, owing to its support for Hezbollah guerrillas and its close ties with Iran. Partly for that reason, it is not overrun by tourists. Yet the Syrians I met were friendly and welcoming, and the aggressive touts and hawkers, ubiquitous elsewhere in the Middle East, were absent. Strangers on the street paid me little attention, and I was carried along by the music of Arabic conversations and the sensation of being anonymous.
Many of the cafes in the Muslim quarter of the Old City were closed for lunch during Ramadan. So I wandered over to the smaller Christian quarter, which was bustling with activity, and came upon an open, unmarked window at which two women stood in a queue. Inside, three men were sweeping puffy brown pita bread off a small conveyor belt into plastic bags. Waiting my turn, I followed the women's lead and put up one finger. One of the workers handed over a bag with six pieces of delicious bread, still warm, for the equivalent of 20 cents.
I had heard from friends that Damascus was a good place to shop for exquisite, inexpensive Persian and Afghan rugs. For centuries, Muslims from all over the Middle East and Asia brought rugs with them on their pilgrimages to Damascus, trading them for food and lodging or leaving them behind as gifts.
There were dozens of rug merchants, but a friend had recommended one named Issam Lahham. I found the gray-haired proprietor standing outside his shop, off the Hamadiye souk. We spent two leisurely hours in his downstairs showroom as he laid out carpet after handmade carpet, patiently giving me a lesson in the history of each.
The rug business in Damascus, Lahham told me, was not good. "We have very few buyers. Very few," he said.
They have probably never been photographed at work before!
Only 37% of refuse in the Camp gets properly disposed of.
I just deleted this album then re-loaded it to un tag a dealer i have problems with and to blow off steam about his companies' problem. it won't take the wind out of my sales for the love of life on the road. I just spent the last two hours deleting tags to dealers I’ve made large purchases from. The next step is to take their name off of my Truck and Fifth Wheel! That will teach them! I’ve even deleted two entire albums of photos with tags leading friends to the dealerships. My small protest but to have to spend more money in civil court. There should be a court for dealing with consumer products after large purchases and problems exist. Who can afford to do that and or spend the time teaching the bad dealer a lesson! It’s hard when you live on fantasy island and want to believe there are people out there that are true pros and true craftsmen. I know there are a few people out there because I met them and refused to do business with other dealers because I met them too. I’ve seen a guy weld a Holiday Rambler that broke in half over night at the frame and get me back on the road. There is even an RV dealer five minutes from my house that did such a poor job on a 30 foot trailer I want to restore that they lost a ten-grand restoration job! I went elsewhere for a purchase. Where is Brett Michaels when you need him! Now to find the proper venues to vent. Do you think the dealer’s sites post bad reviews? I’m the perfect sucker for a Salesman that cares nothing but for the commission or if they aren’t paid on commission for the BS they lay on you to kill time to eventually close the sale. I shopped for years at many different places within the State and even some Florida dealers for the right RV for me. I have twenty years’ road experience with travel trailers in and out of campgrounds and dealers. The hard part is when you find a good mechanic you are often down the road on the next adventure. The dealer can’t take away my enthusiasm for the joy of my new trailer. They are so useful when built properly and so versatile for travel or events or full time Road Warriors! Who wouldn’t be frustrated when there are 18 jobs that need attention! I was told by the salesman I’d get a good education from top to bottom and the demo guy was going to send me out of the dealership with the fifth wheel receiver or jaws ungreased with no Teflon pad for the fifth wheel! I really needed a fifth wheel hooking and unhooking lesson along with good Hydraulic jack lesson. I was good for most other things except how the solar panel works. But they try hard to push you off on the useless manuals or Destruction books because they are over worked and under staffed in the service area. I get that. Except learning the hard way almost cost me my hand with a bed and the fifth wheel. Luckily I’m quick. Sometimes I don’t know if I should have been a great mechanic a teacher or a great lawyer. I walked HIM through greasing the B&W hitch and greasing the receiver and made him put the Teflon pad he was going to make me leave without that I bought two years ago in anticipation of having a fifth wheel from Mark (the good guy) at the RV show in Greensboro. No kidding, I put a lot of thought into this. Needless to say, he has mechanical skills beyond my capability and they used the excuse it was market time or the RV show to be short with me. Now that I have tested things on the trailer before a trip and found at least 18 jobs that need to be done after waiting for a call for parts that had already been delivered and a call never received then accused of not paying for screens that didn’t fit and that a $125.00 per hour fee was going to be charged, who wouldn’t be upset? Did I mention this? It will always be something! They can just put the nail in the coffin for the common belief that it is over after the Sale is done. Getting passed off from one department to the other is unforgiveable! The excuse is familiar. I just do Sales; you have to talk to Service. Service says we just do Service, you have to go to parts. Even with lifetime warranty printed and tagged all over the trailer with a promise to teach you about how everything works I’ve found out the hard way from a popular dealer in Rural Hall, NC that it is not the case! It’s too bad I didn’t buy my Truck or RV and drive all the way to Atlanta to deal with @Scott Trail or find a similar friend that would make sure everything is right. Dream on Consumer! So, if any name bashing starts remember we always have one friend in the car, RV, insurance or Sales business. When we overall call all Salesman assholes or all insurance companies thieves or all dealings with service mechanics complete disasters we have to remember we have people on our friend’s lists that have those jobs. You know what, right now after a huge purchase and being shuffled it’s amazing I can work up any mercy for any of them. I’ve tried to be a Salesman. Service over profit was my downfall. I’ve tried to be a Customer Service Rep. It was difficult talking to people that needed parts after a large purchase when you just learned there aren’t any parts! We are all selling something whether we know it or not. If you aren’t taking pride in your job to be the best you can be and just killing time you are a part of this problem! Not everyone has a dream job. But it is just my turn to take a punch, but I’m swinging back! It is just unfortunate for them I know a little about RVs. I must have too high a standard to believe that there are really people that give a damn about products or follow through after the sale. I hate that we just don’t care attitude that leaves you searching for a better place. I had a place in Mooresville that I will find again for service. Hopefully the same family runs the place. It is near the Lake in Terrell. I need to return to and find another mobile mechanic once that moved on to a dealer in the mountains and I can’t dig his name up. There are good people out there. They are so hard to find. Maybe it is just me. I expect too much after laying down a hard-earned wage or a life savings for a house, new car, recreation vehicle or piece of equipment that is supposed to work. When I get a new toy, I want to take a photo of every nut bolt and screw on it, one because I am proud, the other reason is for future reference when things fall apart. Buyer’s remorse sucks even if you know the term all too well, Buyer Beware! I saw one guy at the current dealership I am dealing with now running, literally running to get from customer to customer after my purchase. In between him and the good mechanics are problems! The good guy’s name is Mark. He is extremely smart and knows RV’s and fifth wheels up and down. He was literally running with a ladder and carrying three heavy hitches with him to try to wait on at least two customers at the same time. I’m always leaving a window or looking for the good and hoping I’m not back on fantasy island. There were excellent qualified educated trailer technicians in the service in a good building with the right tools to build trailers from scratch, including paint. Getting to them is a full-time job on the customer’s end. They even had parts delivered that they owed me on what they call a we owe and hadn’t bothered to call in a three-week period. They wanted to double charge for some bug screens around 50 bucks until I produced a paid receipt. Even after the Salesmen told (I know his name) the parts manager he personally sat with the mechanic for a half hour trying patiently to put on the wrong screen. Even with lifetime warranty written all over my trailer they wanted to charge me for service $125.00 per hour for labor. That must be some sort of trick. For $125.00 an hour most any parts should be free! I waited three hours even with a scheduled appointment to even get told they were ready to take her in. Two days later I had to force the call to get an eta on when she would be ready. Imagine if I were a full timer living full time in my RV or still doing three shows a day in three different cities a day. Fortunately, I am gifted with a little time. The service manager mentioned to do the 18 jobs I needed to be done he still had to order parts. Imagine I was sold a unit that I (The Customer) found at least 18 things to do after leaving the lot and running the unit. So, I am going to rescue my unit tomorrow and hope what they did fix after two days waiting can get me through my first trip until parts come for the rest of the job. Do you think I am a fool to take it back? It is a hard call! I’ll know tomorrow if I receive a bill or the trailer is in good shape. The tough part is, after you have been tough with service now your unit is at their mercy. I was told by a good agent I don’t take any crap from anyone. But sometimes it costs me. But those of you that are passive and just let them walk all over you take a bigger beating. With full time jobs or people that depend on their unit as a full-time vehicle you can imagine the pressure to change up vacation times or deal with time off from your job to take care of problems.
Operated by: Minneapolis Refuse Inc. Minneapolis, MN
Unit Number: n/a
Body: McNeilus
Chassis: CCC
Notes:
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Seen at HERC queued for the tipping floor
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Please do not use this image without first asking for permission. Thank you.
This woman was wearing the most wonderful colours. Her skirt is made of German print very typical of this area in South Africa. I am sure that all the women in Nelson Mandela's village would have, and maybe still are, wearing this kind of cloth. On her head a black bag with what she has found in black bags put out for refuse collecting, in her hand a white plastic bag with the same and she is also holding a discarded feather duster with very few feathers left on it.