As I’ve written,
the demise of newsmedia can’t be blamed on tech – rather, it was the
combination of technology and deregulated, neoliberal capitalism, which
saw media companies merged and acquired, vertically and horizontally
integrated, with quality lowered, staff outsourced and assets stripped,
leaving them vulnerable to technological shocks, after all their
in-house experts were turned into contractors who drifted away, their
physical plant sold and leased back, their war-chests drained by vulture
capitalists who loaded them up with debt that acted like a millstone
around their necks as they strove to maneuver their way out of their
economic conundrum.
It would be hard to ask for a better example of this phenomenon than
Clearchannel (now called “Iheartradio,” though not for long).
For decades, Clearchannel was the bogeyman of people who cared about
media consolidation, a company that rapaciously acquired and then
downgraded radio stations up and down the dial and from coast to coast.
That was only possible because of loose markets and loose regulation,
the seismic shift in antitrust enforcement, allowing all our media eggs to be stuck into one gigantic, unwieldy basket.
Enter Bain Capital. Once Clearchannel was at its unwieldy zenith, loaded
with $8B of debt from all these acquisition, Bain Capital and Thomas H
Lee acquired the company with an additional $10B in debt that it dumped
on its balance-sheets (paying themselves handsomely!), and then
proceeded to run the company into the ground, weighing it down with
another $2B worth of debt.
Now Clearchannel/Iheartradio is about to die. Having been stripped of
nearly all its assets, having sold off all those once-diverse,
once-thriving community radio stations to yet another set of private
equity vultures, they’re about to join the likes of Sears, Sears Canada, Toys R Us
and other former giants whose demise has been handily blamed on Big
Tech, without any scrutiny given to the shadowy, banal billionaires who
asset-stripped them, debt-loaded them, and ran them into the ground.
today my therapist told me that a panic attack consumes about the same amount of energy as running a marathon and suddenly my lack of energy doesn’t seem so strange
it’s SO important to take care of yourself after a panic attack! it drains so much energy and many people feel selfish taking time after an attack to care for themselves but it’s so important!!! drink tea and read or take a bath or just go to sleep. let your body and mind relax and recuperate.
I don’t know what it is about Star Wars but even if it’s not your biggest fandom, it still has the funniest memes by a long shot I mean “look at all the fucks i give anakin” and “your poncho is a piece of junk” and anakin hates sand it’s all just 1000% pure class
Professor Stephen Hawking believes Zayn might still be in One Direction – in a different universe
Bless Stephen Hawking for taking this question and not dismissing girls, as so many people do, but instead reframing the question to suggest they look into the wonder and craziness that is theoretical physics.
Reblogging because this is perfect.
RIP you amazing, witty, intelligent, compassionate man.
War, yes, War suits Gryffindor well. Fighting and dying for beliefs; fighting and dying for nothing; drafted into bloodshed and fire by bravery or chivalry or neither. Some take joy in this; some are burdened beyond repair. There was a cause, somewhere; there was good, somewhere; there was a reason for all this, somewhere. Oh, you’d have to be brave to live through this. Red and gold. Gold like armor and glory; red like blood and reality.
But Famine and Hufflepuff? No. Famine is Ravenclaw, ever-hungry for knowledge, constantly starving for more and more and more, almost feral for fulfillment. Where is the wisdom in the world? The truth? Nothing is true; nothing is enough; all there is to devour is worthless scraps. Blue and bronze. Bronze like a set of scales tipping and found wanting; blue like the infinite that never satisfies… never gives the answers.
Thus Pestilence is not Ravenclaw. Pestilence is Slytherin, sick with clever plans and cunning potential and corrupting desire. Ambition spreads like a sickness, a plague of greed and an illness to the soul. Maybe some might call it cruel, but here among friends it’s simple cunning at work. Green and silver. Silver like the sheen of glazed eyes; green like the complexion of infection.
And so Death is not Slytherin. Death is Hufflepuff. It is a hard work; it is a work that is never done. But someone must do it, and do it fairly – do it justly – do it well… perhaps even kindly. Everyone is equal here – in the end – a bunch of duffers. Said Hufflepuff, “I’ll teach the lot… And treat them just the same.” Yellow and black. Black like loss of sight as the air leaves your lungs; yellow like the flowers that’ll grow over your grave.
Came for the gifset, stayed for the addition above
DM: OK, the vampire lord uses his dominate ability on you Bard: *rolls 20 on Will Save* DM: OK, the visibly upset vampire lord now casts blindness. Bard: *crits Fort save* DM: OK, now the vampire lord casts concussion. Bard: I haven’t heard of that spell– Vampire Lord: *slams bard’s head into a wall until she loses consciousness*
