Races Instagram Quotes

Twitter, Reddit, Tumblr, Instagram, all these companies are businesses first, but, as a close second, they’re demographers of unprecedented reach, thoroughness, and importance. Practically as an accident, digital data can now show us how we fight, how we love, how we age, who we are, and how we’re changing. All we have to do is look:

Pro tip: Running outside allows us to experience the real world briefly before we go back to looking at it only though Instagram posts on our computers.

Paradoxically, as platforms like Twitter, Instagram, and YouTube give more opportunities to put blatant acts of racism on trial, many of these same companies encode more insidious forms of inequity in the very design of their products and services. By drawing our attention to Roseanne-like slurs or BBQBecky-like citizen policing, dragging may obscure how the New Jim Code operates behind the scenes.

The IRA’s Black front was by many measures its biggest. “No single group of Americans was targeted by IRA information operatives more than African-Americans,” the Senate Intelligence Committee found in 2019. “By far, race and related issues were the preferred target of the information warfare campaign designed to divide the country.” The IRA’s messages to the black community sometimes lobbied for Stein, but far more often argued for boycotting the election entirely. The voter suppression drive aimed at dozens of cities, especially communities where the killings of black citizens by white police officers created flash points for the Black Lives Matter movement. The Black front made an overwhelming effort to keep African Americans away from the ballot boxes with messages like “Our Votes Don’t Matter,” “Don’t Vote for Hillary Clinton,” and “Don’t Vote at All.” Its “Woke Blacks” Instagram account argued that “a particular hype and hatred for Trump is misleading the people and forcing Blacks to vote Killary. We cannot resort to the lesser of two devils.

Andy Scamp's simple list of the ways people feel valuable. 1. Just believing it. Sometimes this is religious, sometimes it is not. God cares for everyone, but society is supposed to as well. We strive to live in a world that places tremendous even infinite value on a single human life. We do not live in that society, but I think part of the reason we strive for it is because we need to signal that our existence in intrinsically meaningful. This is the only source of meaning that does not rely on other people, it is also that hardest to hold onto. 2. Story We understand ourselves in complex ways, but often times that can be distilled down into some core identities and we imagine these identities as part of a story and that that story is some intrinsically positive thing. It might being part of a tradition or breaking free of one. It might be your race or height or hair color. Your status as a child or a parent. Being a job creator or a Star Wars fan or a snowboarder. We create positive narrative around these things and when we fit in them we feel like we matter. 3. Being appreciated It might be hearing someone laugh at your joke or being paid a living wage or getting likes on Instagram. It might be only external or come from within. Appreciation is almost synonymous with value and I think this is where most meaning comes from. 4. Helping People This might sound the same as appreciation, but it is not. Indeed I think your average waste water treatment engineer will tell you that you can help a lot of people and not get a ton of thanks for it, but we are empathy machines and one of the most lasting and true ways of finding meaning is to actually be of service. 5. Comparison You know, keeping up with the Jones. Also, every sport, but it is more than just comparing ourselves to other people. We also compare our current selves to our past selves which is why getting better at something makes us feel valuable. Even if we are the only ones who really understand how much we are improving. 6. Impacting the World This one is simple, but so dangerous. If the world is different because you were in it then you must matter. You must be important if things changed because you exist, but if that is what you believe then the bigger the impact the more you matter and that can lead to some bad places.

Do not manhandle me. My answer is no. I'm not for sale." "But you don't have any family left," said Nicolas, raising an eyebrow. The next few moments blurred together into one messed-up vision. A fist flying into Nicolas's nose. A loud crack. Blood splattering on Camille's dress. Rémi putting his arm around me. Jane, Phillipa, and Marie racing up to see what the commotion was all about. The clicks of cameras. A nightmare. "This is private property. You're no longer guests of the château. Leave now," said Rémi as Nicolas scrambled up from the ground. "And stay away, far away from my fiancée, or I'll hunt you down." Jane, Marie, and Phillipa flanked my sides, supporting my shaky body. Phillipa hissed to Nicolas. "You're wrong. Sophie has a family. She has all of us. And her dad." I couldn't help but smile. What Phillipa said was true. I had everything. "He broke my nose," said Nicolas, holding his hand up to his face, blood pouring down like a waterfall. "I'm going to press charges against you, all of you, you pieces of merde." "Go ahead," said Rémi. "We may not be as wealthy as you are, but we're not doing so bad. You can try to destroy us, but if you know Sophie as well as I do, you know she fights back. And hard. Believe me. Nothing, not you, not me, will stand in her way. You're the only one with a reputation to lose---and from what I've read, most people think you're the scum of the earth." Camille walked up the steps. "I'm out of here." She stopped and looked over her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Sophie. I should have known. Small dick, small mind." "I do not have a small dick," screamed Nicolas, his face turning red. The guests from the Sunday lunch clasped their hands over their mouths. I felt like I was the star of a B movie. Who were these people? Cartoon characters? "Oh, yes, you have a small penis. The smallest one I've ever seen," said Camille, winking at me. "And you think with it. Now, take me back to Paris so I can get rid of you. That is, unless you want my Instagram to blow up. Don't forget. I have pictures of your cornichon." Nicolas raced after Camille. "You salope, those pictures are private." Camille placed her hands on her skinny hips. "For now," she said. I had to give Camille credit when it was due; she wasn't a brain-dead model, she was fierce.

...by the late 2000s, it seemed like a sucker's bet to try to make a living as an inventor in the classic sense, by creating useful and original things... the country's most famous inventors were inventing things of dubious merit, generating enormous wealth for a few by hawking gadgets to the many. In the San Francisco Bay Area, as America's coal-fired power plants continued to soak the atmosphere with gunk, as dysfunction snarled Congress and the roads and bridges chipped and cracked, as twelve million searched in vain for jobs and the economies of entire towns ran on food stamps, the best and brightest trilled about the awesomeness of their smartphone apps. Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, Angry Birds, Summly, Wavii: software to entertain, encapsulate, package, distract. Silicon Valley: a place that has made many useful things and created enormous wealth and transformed the way we live and where many are now working to build a virtual social layer atop the real corroding world.

What is not so easy is knowing when you yourself are full of shit. Convincing yourself that you are among “the initiated” because you took some classes, ran a Spartan race, or did the Murph for the last three years, or because you have taken jiu-jitsu for eight years and can shoot really well is a mistake. The cool gear, the cool truck, the belt, the patches...it all screams badass. You are creating an image of the Instagram-friendly warrior, but maybe not so much real life.

After the speech, I climbed off the riser and raced over to Hired Gun Guy to rip into him that a dog had been assigned a better position on the press riser than the Times. “That fucking dog and his little doggie bed had a prime view,” I’d said. “You’re kidding me, right?” Hired Gun replied. “That’s Marnie the Dog. She has like two million followers on Instagram. Sorry, but the shih tzu has more reach than the Times and the AP.