/pt/ – Petrarchan

Anyway just vote to block the worst candidate from taking power and turbo-fucking everything even harder. It takes 30 minutes and you don't really have any excuse.

>>5356

Anyway just vote to block the worst candidate from taking power and turbo-fucking everything even harder. It takes 30 minutes and you don't really have any excuse.

I won't be doing this, sorry

Me neither. I will vote for candidates who support the electoral reform and that's it.

Your post is good. I work in local government and I wanted to chime in on the last option. In my experience, the self-labeled YIMBY people tend to *also* not add much intellectual depth to the political discourse. The YIMBYs I've encountered have been just as quick as the preserve our neighborhoods people to read local news and understand policy on a superficial level. Unless the speaker is a policy professional or a nonprofit person who eats sleeps and breathes land use, I don't think its reasonable to hold super dogmatic positions on such technical policy areas. Odds are that those views are wrong. The people I respect might hold strong political beliefs like "we need to build more housing" or on the other side of things "we need more resident input" - but they have a drive and passion for public service that transcends those beliefs.

I'm not, now what.

My first major arrest was for the stealing of loose change. Here's how it went: I used to work as a front end supervisor at a local supermarket. A front end supervisor is a glorified cashier who gets paid $0.50 more an hour to tell other cashiers when to go on break. I had been working for this particular supermarket chain — Price Chopper — since high school, but had only recently been promoted. During my short tenure as supervisor, management made the mistake of entrusting me with the key to their Coinstar machine — a kiosk at the front of the store that counts loose change and prints vouchers for the collective value, less a healthy "transaction fee". I was mainly supposed to fix printer jams or coin clogs from the sticky pennies drenched in beer and ball sweat. The inner mechanism hat counted change was essentially a rotating funnel with different-sized holes to sort various U.s. coins, as well as filter out debris and foreign currency. While working on the machines I quickly recognized a vulnerability. My hack was simple: I devised a secondary funnel out of plastic laminate to catch the coins and recirculate them back into the sorting mechanism — over and over again — artificially inflating the count. The more coins I put in, the faster the voucher value would climb. I realized I could use dollar coins to speed things up. So, late at night, I'd open the machine for "maintenance" and throw coins into my custom funnel. They'd circulate for a time, eventually resulting in a slip for a few hundred bucks. The whole process took minutes. A co-worker and friend of mine — who would later become my co-defendant — cashed the first batch of slips at the customer service desk where we worked. Obviously, when the coin company counted their change they'd recognize the discrepancy, but they only showed up every two weeks — long enough to significantly dilute the pool of suspects. That first night we made $400. It would have been foolish to keep hitting the same machine, so we decided to take our show on the road. Lucky for us, it turns out that if you walk into a random supermarket with a clipboard and a tie, nobody questions why you're messing with their coin machine. And we were surprised and delighted to find the keys to all the machines were universal — a deficiency that has long since been addressed thanks to our shenanigans. We wore ball caps and fake glasses to obscure our identity from security cameras and timed our trips during off-hours to catch the skeleton crew — staff who generally aren't too concerned with the goings-on of the store. Then we'd start funneling dollar coins into our contraption until we had generated a high-value voucher. A few minutes later we were across the street at a competing supermarket cashing in the slips. Often we'd pay someone outside to go in and cash the slips for us while we were inside rigging the next machine for a new batch of vouchers. Rinse and repeat. We did this for much of the summer. On a good weekend, we could hit three or four stores and make $1,600. As a result, we took a lot of road trips. We eventually got caught the way all thieves get caught: We got cocky. One weekend we decided enough time had passed to hit the first store again, back at Price Chopper. Unbeknownst to us, the coin company had been working with state law enforcement to track us down. They put cameras in several machines and waited months while we bounced around New York expanding our heist. In retrospect, I'm glad we were caught before the Feds got involved, since our most recent excursions had taken us to supermarkets across state lines (which would have introduced a slew of new felonies). But it never got to that point. One fateful day I walked in to work and the police were waiting for me along with the store manager. I left in handcuffs and spent the day in lock-up. My sister paid my bail with the mountain of cash back at my apartment. Upon being released, I called my co-defendant who had already been informed by our co-workers of my arrest. He dressed comfortably the next day and was expectedly greeted by law enforcement at the start of his shift. He spent the night in jail and posted bail in similar fashion. Coinstar wanted us to do serious time, but also didn't want the story to get too big because it made them look bad. Plus, if word got out before they'd addressed their deficiencies there would surely be copycats. To expedite our sentencing and reduce embarrassment, Coinstar decided to only press charges for the thefts at our initial workplace, which they could easily prove. We took the first plea deal that kept us out of prison and were sentenced to restitution and three years probation. Thankfully, this was my first arrest and the judge assigned to our case found our crime entertaining, and said as much on a few occasions. We got off easy for what was clearly a string of brazen felonies. And best of all, our restitution was less than 1/4th of our accumulative haul for the summer. Needless to say, we paid in cash. I later learned that Coinstar, along with Walmart, Price Chopper, Hannaford, and several other supermarket chains had to change their corporate policies and regulations nationwide because of our scam. Voucher slips now have strict value limits. The Coinstar machine itself was completely redesigned, and unique keys were made mandatory across the country. Coinstar staff also have to sign a logbook before providing maintenance to any machines in retail settings. This overhaul reportedly cost hundreds of thousands of dollars. Today, I view this incident as my first successful direct action, but at the time I was embarrassed for getting arrested and losing my job. The shame and stigma of being labeled a criminal followed me for many years, until hindsight allowed me to look at the totality of circumstances. For example, Coinstar — now a billion-dollar company — is legally allowed to take 12 cents for every dollar of currency they process. They're essentially trading cash for less cash, which is perfectly legal and even encouraged under capitalism. They've even won awards for finding innovative ways to rip consumers off. But there's no ethical way to make a billion dollars, ever, so the biggest crooks in my story are them. Additionally, my heist didn't cause any communal harm. In fact, it helped pay my bills for the summer. It helped feed my friends and family.It helped fix my car. It even helped fund my ill-fated rap career — all while wasting the time and resources of the ruling class. Robbing Coinstar was more than a cash grab, it was an act of resistance. I'm a regular Robin Hood. Or at least, that's what I tell myself so I can keep telling this story at parties. The point is: "Direct action gets the goods." In a class war between the Haves and Have-nots, we're going to have to start reclaiming resources to get our point across. Even if it is just loose change. I hope to encourage more individuals to reflect on any shame incurred while navigating oppression and reframe it as resistance personified. Challenging capitalism, white supremacy, patriarchy, homophobia, transphobia, ableism, and everything in between is central to revolutionary work. And components of these systems take on many forms — from your shitty landlord, to your neglectful partner, to the author of this post, and likely the reader, too. But blame and shame alone do nothing to challenge institutional power. True resistance requires education and action. It requires risk. And unfortunately, it requires sacrifice. But contrary to popular belief, crime often does pay, and swords can be mightier than pens — and not coincidentally, the people who say otherwise seem to own everything.

I like your story.

>>5462

My first major arrest was for the stealing of loose change. Here's how it went: I used to work as a front end supervisor at a local supermarket. A front end supervisor is a glorified cashier who gets paid $0.50 more an hour to tell other cashiers when to go on break. I had been working for this particular supermarket chain — Price Chopper — since high school, but had only recently been promoted. During my short tenure as supervisor, management made the mistake of entrusting me with the key to their Coinstar machine — a kiosk at the front of the store that counts loose change and prints vouchers for the collective value, less a healthy "transaction fee". I was mainly supposed to fix printer jams or coin clogs from the sticky pennies drenched in beer and ball sweat. The inner mechanism hat counted change was essentially a rotating funnel with different-sized holes to sort various U.s. coins, as well as filter out debris and foreign currency. While working on the machines I quickly recognized a vulnerability. My hack was simple: I devised a secondary funnel out of plastic laminate to catch the coins and recirculate them back into the sorting mechanism — over and over again — artificially inflating the count. The more coins I put in, the faster the voucher value would climb. I realized I could use dollar coins to speed things up. So, late at night, I'd open the machine for "maintenance" and throw coins into my custom funnel. They'd circulate for a time, eventually resulting in a slip for a few hundred bucks. The whole process took minutes. A co-worker and friend of mine — who would later become my co-defendant — cashed the first batch of slips at the customer service desk where we worked. Obviously, when the coin company counted their change they'd recognize the discrepancy, but they only showed up every two weeks — long enough to significantly dilute the pool of suspects. That first night we made $400. It would have been foolish to keep hitting the same machine, so we decided to take our show on the road. Lucky for us, it turns out that if you walk into a random supermarket with a clipboard and a tie, nobody questions why you're messing with their coin machine. And we were surprised and delighted to find the keys to all the machines were universal — a deficiency that has long since been addressed thanks to our shenanigans. We wore ball caps and fake glasses to obscure our identity from security cameras and timed our trips during off-hours to catch the skeleton crew — staff who generally aren't too concerned with the goings-on of the store. Then we'd start funneling dollar coins into our contraption until we had generated a high-value voucher. A few minutes later we were across the street at a competing supermarket cashing in the slips. Often we'd pay someone outside to go in and cash the slips for us while we were inside rigging the next machine for a new batch of vouchers. Rinse and repeat. We did this for much of the summer. On a good weekend, we could hit three or four stores and make $1,600. As a result, we took a lot of road trips. We eventually got caught the way all thieves get caught: We got cocky. One weekend we decided enough time had passed to hit the first store again, back at Price Chopper. Unbeknownst to us, the coin company had been working with state law enforcement to track us down. They put cameras in several machines and waited months while we bounced around New York expanding our heist. In retrospect, I'm glad we were caught before the Feds got involved, since our most recent excursions had taken us to supermarkets across state lines (which would have introduced a slew of new felonies). But it never got to that point. One fateful day I walked in to work and the police were waiting for me along with the store manager. I left in handcuffs and spent the day in lock-up. My sister paid my bail with the mountain of cash back at my apartment. Upon being released, I called my co-defendant who had already been informed by our co-workers of my arrest. He dressed comfortably the next day and was expectedly greeted by law enforcement at the start of his shift. He spent the night in jail and posted bail in similar fashion. Coinstar wanted us to do serious time, but also didn't want the story to get too big because it made them look bad. Plus, if word got out before they'd addressed their deficiencies there would surely be copycats. To expedite our sentencing and reduce embarrassment, Coinstar decided to only press charges for the thefts at our initial workplace, which they could easily prove. We took the first plea deal that kept us out of prison and were sentenced to restitution and three years probation. Thankfully, this was my first arrest and the judge assigned to our case found our crime entertaining, and said as much on a few occasions. We got off easy for what was clearly a string of brazen felonies. And best of all, our restitution was less than 1/4th of our accumulative haul for the summer. Needless to say, we paid in cash. I later learned that Coinstar, along with Walmart, Price Chopper, Hannaford, and several other supermarket chains had to change their corporate policies and regulations nationwide because of our scam. Voucher slips now have strict value limits. The Coinstar machine itself was completely redesigned, and unique keys were made mandatory across the country. Coinstar staff also have to sign a logbook before providing maintenance to any machines in retail settings. This overhaul reportedly cost hundreds of thousands of dollars. Today, I view this incident as my first successful direct action, but at the time I was embarrassed for getting arrested and losing my job. The shame and stigma of being labeled a criminal followed me for many years, until hindsight allowed me to look at the totality of circumstances. For example, Coinstar — now a billion-dollar company — is legally allowed to take 12 cents for every dollar of currency they process. They're essentially trading cash for less cash, which is perfectly legal and even encouraged under capitalism. They've even won awards for finding innovative ways to rip consumers off. But there's no ethical way to make a billion dollars, ever, so the biggest crooks in my story are them. Additionally, my heist didn't cause any communal harm. In fact, it helped pay my bills for the summer. It helped feed my friends and family.It helped fix my car. It even helped fund my ill-fated rap career — all while wasting the time and resources of the ruling class. Robbing Coinstar was more than a cash grab, it was an act of resistance. I'm a regular Robin Hood. Or at least, that's what I tell myself so I can keep telling this story at parties. The point is: "Direct action gets the goods." In a class war between the Haves and Have-nots, we're going to have to start reclaiming resources to get our point across. Even if it is just loose change. I hope to encourage more individuals to reflect on any shame incurred while navigating oppression and reframe it as resistance personified. Challenging capitalism, white supremacy, patriarchy, homophobia, transphobia, ableism, and everything in between is central to revolutionary work. And components of these systems take on many forms — from your shitty landlord, to your neglectful partner, to the author of this post, and likely the reader, too. But blame and shame alone do nothing to challenge institutional power. True resistance requires education and action. It requires risk. And unfortunately, it requires sacrifice. But contrary to popular belief, crime often does pay, and swords can be mightier than pens — and not coincidentally, the people who say otherwise seem to own everything.

Story rocks. The lesson is that you shoudn't steal lol nobody wins.

>>5464

>>5462 Story rocks. The lesson is that you shoudn't steal lol nobody wins.

Or don't get too big for your britches.

>>5356

Anyway just vote to block the worst candidate from taking power and turbo-fucking everything even harder. It takes 30 minutes and you don't really have any excuse.

Turbofucking is better than middling, parasitic politicians.

Politics are for poorfags, people who get no bitches or insecure, resentful people.

>>6028

Politics are for poorfags, people who get no bitches or insecure, resentful people.

What if you get into politics just for the fun