Mark R. Miller Profile picture
Old. Boring. Easily distracte. @4T9NER.bsky markmiller9 on 🧵s
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Jan 28, 2022 6 tweets 2 min read
The stated reasons for removing this graphic novel from the curriculum is use of profanity, nudity and depictions have violence. Why each of these is extraordinarily disingenuous 🧵 1/6 Nudity. My God. This is the extent of the hand-drawn nudity in the book. More than 85% of the victims in extermination camps died nude. 2/6
Jan 20, 2022 8 tweets 3 min read
As they maneuver to kill the John Lewis Voting Right Act, Republicans can reflect with satisfaction that for 140 years they have demonized voters with the same Replacement theory message to incite support for their foundationally undemocratic aims. Take this Nast image from 1875 Here they are depicting immigration as a factory for Democratic votes, during a period from 1860-1908 when only a single Democrat (Grover Cleveland) was elected President.
Jan 16, 2022 12 tweets 4 min read
When Napoleon died in 1821, on the small island of St. Helena in the south-Atlantic, he was buried under a nameless slab on this small grassy patch. 🧵 thread There are still commemorations of his burial held every year at the site. Which is weird because. . .
Jun 6, 2021 13 tweets 4 min read
A 92 year-old nun died today in a Carmelite Monastery in Illinois. She was kind of an unusual nun. She didn’t sing very well. She was frequently late to her required duties around the convent. She threw sticks for the communal dogs which was not allowed. Also she was my mother. I have only seen her twice in the last 33 years since she joined the convent—-partly because the Carmelites are a contemplative order. They don’t teach school, or work in hospitals, or even leave the building in which they live. They pray. They live in silence 23 1/2 hours a day.
Jan 28, 2021 26 tweets 7 min read
There is a photograph in my house that haunts me. It is 100 years old. I don’t really need to look at it anymore because I have memorized every detail. But look at it I do. It is safely in my cupboard of photographs because I fear it might dissolve away in the vulgar light. The photograph is of my great-aunt who died two decades before I was born. She is holding her not yet four year old son. It was taken by her lover, Lucia Larranga. It is, all at once, triumph and love and dignity.