[ Margin Notes ] The CCP’s so-called “preparations for war” are nothing more than a ploy to intimidate people, to threaten the outside world and conduct massive propaganda campaigns at home, all to maintain the legitimacy of its rule. End CCP.

Maria Zakharova on British decision to provide Kiev with the blueprints for "Storm Shadow" missiles: "Any British military facilities and hardware, located both inside the Ukraine and beyond its borders, may become legitimate targets in response to Ukrainian strikes on Russian soil using British weapons. Those complicit in war crimes, including actions targeting our civilian population, will be penalized proportionally to their offenses." "Trying to inflict a 'strategic defeat' on Russia is doomed to fail, though London has already thoroughly smeared its hands in it. We urge all residents of the UK to ponder the unavoidable catastrophic fallout of their own government's hostile actions."

Mariah The Scientists’ ‘HEARTS SOLD SEPARATELY’ was released one year ago. It debuted at #1# on Billboard’s Top R&B Albums chart, featuring platinum hits “Burning Blue” and “Is It A Crime” and currently has over 300 million streams on Spotify.

Majid, I am sorry that I knew nothing about you before they hanged you. Forgive us. Majid, you have a family. You are someone’s son. Someone’s brother. Someone loved you, waited for you, worried about you. And yet we know almost nothing about you. This is Majid Adineh, a protester from the January uprising whom the Islamic Republic hanged on Sunday morning. There was not even a single photograph of him publicly available before his execution. This image is taken from a forced-confession video released by Mizan, the judiciary’s own media outlet. That is how brutally the regime silenced your family. They made you disappear while you were still alive, and then they took you to the gallows. I don’t know what happened to you when they came to your cell and said, “Get ready. You are going to be hanged.” I don’t know what went through your mind in those final moments, when they put the rope around your neck and kicked the chair from beneath your feet. Did you think you had been forgotten by the rest of the world? The unbearable truth is that almost nobody knew your name until the regime announced that you were gone. They silenced your family. They hid your face. They kept your name from us. And then they ended your life.

[ Margin Notes ] Behold the glorious prosperity under the Chinese Communist Party! Skyscrapers pierce the clouds, high-speed trains streak across the land, and official figures proudly declare extreme poverty “eradicated.” In this socialist paradise, every citizen thrives in harmony and abundance, thanks to the wise leadership that has delivered unmatched flourishing to the masses. Yet stroll through the streets of Beiliu in Guangxi and witness the true miracle. Three children dig through garbage piles for their next meal, having gone four days without real food. One limps on a leg crippled by his own father’s beatings. No parents, no protection, no safety net, just discarded scraps while the Party boasts of “common prosperity.” How magnificent: gleaming cities for the elite, while rural children eat refuse in the shadows. The surveillance state captures every face, yet somehow misses these starving kids. Censors erase the videos, statistics airbrush the hunger, and the narrative of eternal success rolls on. This is the real achievement, not eliminating poverty, but perfecting the art of making it invisible. Hail the CCP’s grand flourishing, where the people’s suffering is the foundation of the Party’s shining image. — Aric

Mariana Abramovitc These People Are sick You gonna be shocked how deeply this is penetreated in every country on the planet EVERYONE AND I MEAN EVERY CITIZEN SHOULD BE SPEAKING OUT God's Children💕💞🌹🕊️🌍💫 THE TIME FOR EXCUSES IS OVER ❗ NOW IS THE TIME FOR ACTION NOW IS THE TIME TO RISE UP Military is the only way⚔️⚔️ What Brings You To The Battlefield❓ Are You Here Fore The Fame ❓ It Is Time For The World To Face The Truth THESE PEOPLE ARE SICK❗️❗️ You STAND UP and PROTECT GOD's CHILDREN OR YOU DON'T 💕🌹🕊️🌍💫 It always was, and still is about the children. Crimes Against Our Children💕🌹🕊️🌍💫

[ Marginalia ] Two Hundred and Thirty-Seven. Her name in the file is Mei. Not her name, the one they gave her afterward, so she could be spoken about without being found. At four she was behind in language, in writing, in drawing. Her crayon houses had no doors. The doctors put a word on it that fewer than two hundred and thirty-seven people in the world have ever been given. A gene called CHD3, misspelled by one letter in the earliest draft of her brain. Two hundred and thirty-six others, somewhere, in rooms her parents would never enter. That was the number they held on to. A number is a kind of company. Jason kept the medical records in a folder on his desktop. He opened it more often than he needed to. In the WeChat group, forty parents, all of them awake at two in the morning, all of them typing, a name surfaced in 2023 the way a name surfaces in a city: from someone who knew someone. Shanghai. Xinhua Hospital. A laboratory that had made mice with his daughter's exact mistake inside them. He wrote the email at night. He attached everything: the scans, the reports, the sentence saying he was willing and able to bear the costs. Then he sat there, the way you sit after posting a letter you can't take back. Thirteen minutes. He has counted those thirteen minutes many times since. He has divided them, turned them over, held them up to the light. In thirteen minutes a man can boil water. In thirteen minutes a man on the other side of a country can read a child's whole life and decide what to do with it. Later Jason would understand what the speed meant, that the answer had been waiting long before the question. That somewhere a laboratory had been standing at a window for two years, watching the road, waiting for a father to walk up it carrying a folder and a checkbook. They paid. First for the mice. Then for the monkeys. Then one hundred and thirty thousand dollars into a researcher's personal account, the way you'd pay a man to fix a roof. Here is what nobody said out loud in the consent conversation, though everything else was said, carefully, at length: the worst case is that she dies. They spoke of risks the way a hotel speaks of the weather. The dose went in through the spinal fluid, adenovirus, thousands of times a vaccine's load, because you cannot edit one cell when what you need is a million. Twenty-seven years ago in Arizona there was an eighteen-year-old named Jesse Gelsinger, and on the fourth day his organs stopped, one after another, and the whole world was supposed to have learned something. Somebody did learn something. They learned where the reviews are looser. Because there are two doors in that country. One goes through the drug regulators. The other, for research the hospital calls non-commercial, curiosity's own door, goes through a committee down the hall. The committee that approved Mei never read the primate safety report. This is not an oversight. Oversights get corrected. A door that stays open for thirty years is not a door somebody forgot to close. Mei was not dying. That is the part her mother cannot put down. She was six, she was behind in drawing, she was not dying. A year after she died, the paper came out in Nature. Beautiful mice. Beautiful monkeys. A breakthrough. What had been quietly removed: the human data, and the line thanking a family in the acknowledgments. Their daughter had been edited out of the sentence that thanked them for her. So they went and asked for the paper to be pulled. Not for her. For the parents reading it that morning, in forty group chats, at two in the morning, thinking: there's hope now. Two hundred and thirty-seven, minus one. Nobody has updated the number. Nobody was ever going to. — Aric