Every time I see the footage from Hillsborough, and hear the things like 116 statements were altered, it makes me feel so sick.
Anne Williams was an amazing woman.
JFT96
I like wine: Petition for police accountability for Hillsborough
My mamma and grandad were both at Hillborough, luckily for me on the Nottingham Forest side. Any mention of the incident makes my grandad cry at the thought of the bodies and the screams and his view of a policeman in the box next to him sat with his head in his hands. He always says he feels as…
Panorama: Hillsborough - How They Buried the Truth
A Panorama investigation into how the truth about Hillsborough was buried.I just finished watching this, and I’ve never been so angered by anything. There is not one corner of our government, police or judiciary that didn’t fail the fans and the families in some way. That failure isn’t just systematic, it’s systemic too.
It’s my firm belief that the beginnings of the demonisation of the working class in this country started on that day in 1989. Everyone involved in covering up the truth and forcing people into a prolonged fight for justice should hang their heads in shame. It’s disgusting.
Watch this. Learn from this. Never believe everything you read from conglomerate press organisations, believe the word of survivors. A reporter and a witness are not the same thing. Some, but not all, have very different definitions of the word ‘truth.’ In the hands of some, the truth sounds, and often is, a lie.
what the fuck did i just watch
I don’t know but it really speaks to me
This is JASON FYLES and he goes to my university (Newcastle University, North East of England) He is 19 years old, 5’8, ginger hair and slim. He was last seen in the Sandyford area at 2:45am on Thursday morning and has not been seen since. He was wearing a blue shirt, grey cardigan, beige chinos and brown ankle boots. Everyone in uni is so worried about him along with his family and friends. We are coming together as a university to appeal for his safe return. It is thought that he lost his friends on the night out and tried to make his way back by himself. Please, I am begging for you to REBLOG THIS, even if you don’t live in Newcastle, or England. Every REBLOG means that someone else will see his face, they will know who we are looking for, and your followers could be the one to know his whereabouts. Stay safe Jason, we’re looking for you.
THIS WILL NOT RUIN YOUR BLOG!PLEASE. Nobody reblogged my own post on this which I posted an hour or so ago so I’m wondering if nobody will now. This guy is my friend. If I have ever sent you a nice ask or reblogged something of yours and it made you happy for a second (or even if I haven’t; this is about helping him, not doing me a favour) for God’s sake just help now, help to find my friend Jason. You want me to make him human to you?
- Once we all grew beans in pots as part of a Biology experiment- the experiment failed miserably and made the whole lab stink, but his was the only bean that grew and he was actually pretty proud about it
- He learned to knit as part of a school project where he had to learn a creative skill, and when a couple of people teased him about it he said “gender is a social construct” and carried on knitting like a badass
- He loves the scene in The Great Gatsby where Gatsby throws all his silk shirts around and he and I used to giggle over it together
- Once I asked him if he had a string of tinsel I could use in a photoshoot and he brought me a big cardboard box full of tinsel and fairy lights because he’s a helpful and lovely guy
He’s HUMAN and he needs our HELP and just PLEASE PLEASE FUCKING REBLOG THIS??? He’s been missing for four days now- when he went missing he would have been wearing his contact lenses and he won’t have had his (very thick) glasses with him so by now he’ll have had to take his contacts out and throw them away and he won’t be able to see well and oh God just please signal boost this
Choose life.
Choose a job.
Choose a career.
Choose a family.
Choose a fucking big television,
Choose washing machines,
cars,
compact disc players,
and electrical tin openers.
Choose good health,
low cholesterol and dental insurance.
Choose fixed- interest mortgage repayments.
Choose a starter home.
Choose your friends.
Choose leisure wear and matching luggage.
Choose a three piece suite on hire purchase in a range of fucking fabrics.
Choose DIY and wondering who you are on a Sunday morning.
Choose sitting on that couch watching mind-numbing sprit- crushing game shows,
stuffing fucking junk food into your mouth.
Choose rotting away at the end of it all,
pishing you last in a miserable home,
nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish,
fucked-up brats you have spawned to replace yourself.
Choose your future.
Choose life… But why would I want to do a thing like that?
Irvine Welsh, Trainspotting
