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Film is the Answer

@dacnard / dacnard.tumblr.com

Life hasn't enough framelines.
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When I lost my hands making flatscreens I can’t afford, nobody would help me

On February 11, 2011, I lost both my hands.

I was working an overnight shift at my job in Reynosa, Mexico, where I was cutting metal for parts used in assembling flatscreen televisions. I was working in my usual area, and the boss was pressuring us.

“I want you to work faster, because we need the material urgently,” he said.

I was moved to Machine 19, which can rip and cut metal and takes two hands to operate. It is heavy, weighing at least one ton, maybe two, and no one liked to work on it because it was too difficult. They always seemed to assign it to me.

I started work at 11pm. Around 2 or 2:30am, I was positioning metal inside Machine 19. My hands were actually inside the machine, because I had to push the metal in until it clicked into place.

That’s when the machine fell on top of them.

I screamed. Everyone around me was crying and yelling. They stopped the assembly line on the female side of the room, but the men were told to keep working.

Meanwhile, I was stuck. No one could lift the machine off my hands. They remained trapped for 10 minutes, crushed under the machine.

Finally, a few fellow employees created a makeshift jack to lift the machine up just enough for me to pull my hands out. I wasn’t bleeding very much, because the machine actually sealed the ends of my arms and forged them to the piece of metal. They took me to the hospital with the piece attached to my hands. The doctors were surprised when I showed up like that. I remember saying, ‘Take the piece off. Take it off.’ But they didn’t want to.”

My hands were flattened like tortillas, mangled, and they both had to be amputated. I lost my right hand up to my wrist and my left a little higher. I didn’t know how I’d ever work again.

Immediately, I started to worry about my children. I have six children at home, who were between the ages of 9 and 17 during the accident, and I am both mother and father to them. How would I take care of them now?

Working six days a week, I made 5,200 pesos a month ($400). Without my hands, I knew I wouldn’t even be able to make that much.

After five days in the hospital, I checked myself out. But I didn’t go home first. I went directly to the factory where I worked for HD Electronics. I asked to see the manager. He offered me 50,000 pesos ($3,800).

“I’ve lost both my hands,” I said. “How will my family survive on 50,000 pesos?”

“That’s our offer,” he said. “Stop making such a big scandal about it and take it.” I eventually got about $14,400 in settlement money under Mexican labor law, an amount equal to 75% of two years’ wages for each hand. But I knew I had to do better for my family. So I looked across the border, to Texas, where my former employer is based.

I found a lawyer with a nice office in a good part of town. I was sure he would help me. Instead, he said, “Go up to the international bridge and put a cup out and people will help you.”

I was devastated.

That’s when I decided to tell my story on television. That led me to Ed Krueger, a retired minister who vowed to find me the right lawyer. That lawyer was Scott Hendler at the law firm Hendler Lyons Flores, in Austin, Texas. Even though I could not pay, he helped me file a lawsuit against LG Electronics, which contracted with the factory where I worked. Finally, about 18 months after the accident, I had hope.

Then the judge in my case threw out the lawsuit on a technicality, saying LG had not been properly notified. I wasn’t even given a chance to respond.

It’s been four years since I lost my hands. I have trouble paying my mortgage, and I wonder: Was that first lawyer right? Will I end up on a bridge, holding a cup out in front of me?

I constantly wish that someone with a compassionate heart could help me get some prosthetic hands that are flexible, so I could actually do something. Right now, I can’t do much. I can do smaller things, and move some things around, but I can’t do anything for myself. I can’t even take a shower. My family is surviving on a small disability benefit from the government, the kindness of friends and because my oldest daughter is now working instead of pursuing her education.

I’ve worked in factories most of my life. I know I am not the first person to be injured. But more needs to be done to help the workers who are making the products that so many Americans buy. We don’t ask for even a tiny share of the billions these companies make. We are just asking for enough to take care of our families and, when we are hurt, to take care of ourselves, too.

I’m honored that I’ve been asked by Public Justice, a wonderful legal organization fighting on behalf of workers like me, to share my story. And I’m humbled that they’ve selected me to receive their Illuminating Injustice Award. That’s just what I hope to do: shine a light on the stories of workers, like me, so that the people who buy the products we make can understand a little about our lives, too.

I hope someone, somewhere, will hear or read my story and help prevent this from happening again. Because, while my hands are gone, the injustice for so many remains.

http://www.rosamorenofund.com/ fund to donate to Rosa Moreno

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Please at least reblog this so more people can see it because this needs to be seen.

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Crosis Journal

A narrative of events in the D&D 5e Hoard of the Dragon Queen campaign.

Part 1

Leonsin Erlanthar… I haven’t hear that name in a long time. I don’t know how he was able to contact me, but the old man have always had his ways. I guess when you live as a wandering monk for as long as he has, you achieve a sort of natural clairvoyance.

It has taken me almost a fortnight to travel from Neverwinter to Greenest. I've spent way too long in the Neverwinter Library looking for forgotten dragon lore or anything that may shed some light on my origin. I've always had a distaste for cities and their tamed ways to deal with life and magic, but after roaming the Sword Coast for so long, looking for answers to the questions that plague my ancestry, I was forced to make the pilgrimage to the libraries of old. Not Amn nor Calimport, nor even Neverwinter provided any clear answers, it seems like any reference about Her have been erased or secluded. Frustrated, I received Erlanthar’s call with some sense of relief, but also with a hit of annoyance about his impertinence to summoning ME, Crosis Thaxll'ssilvia's. sorcerer extraordinaire, the lightning herald, scourge of the skies!

A week after, I found myself on the road to Beregost, on my way to pay my debt to the old man. It is a greatest affront to my dragonblood pride to own a lifesaving debt to a lesser being such as a wandering monk.

In Beregost I purchased a place on the next departing caravan to Greenest. I don't trust these companions of mine, they include a shady and somewhat disturbed rogue, a half- orc brute worshiper of one of those powerless deities that these lesser creatures tend to follow, and a warrior type female that at some point may constitute a fine meal. Apparently they all have some pressing matters on Greenest. I hope to find Erlanthar quickly and be done with this.

When we arrived to Greenest we found a city under siege. There are reports that a blue dragon is part of the attacking party. I can barely contain my excitement, to find a blue dragon here, after all the time lost in those filthy and so called civilized cities! This is the closest I've ever been to find a trace of my kind. I must find out about this dragon and the people behind this siege.

On our way to the keep we were ambushed for some kobolds. I lost my temper against these lesser wannabe dragons, there is nothing that I despise more than kobolds. It was an error to reveal my power to these untrustworthy companions. I will have to keep my cool from now on. In the Keep we met a town immerse in terror. The city is under the rule of a coward named Nighthill. He requested us to apprehend one of the attackers in order to obtain more information about the siege and the group behind it. I must bear the pain to be ordered by this coward, but the gain is considerable higher.

Capturing one of the attackers was not a problem. When we were delivering the prisoner the keep was immediately attacked by the blue dragon. This was a golden opportunity. I can barely believe my luck! I tried to talk with the dragon without any success. Many were killed by her rage. I told them to run and hide, but city dwellers rarely listed to common sense, they have grown soft and hold a stupid sense of security. It is interesting that I was not able to communicate with the dragon, there is something behind all of this and I must find it out.

Now we are under the orders of a dwarf. And we are supposed to help him to save a Mill from the flames. I demanded the presence of Erlanthar. The coward Nighthill now reveals that Erlanthar was captured earlier by the attackers. To know more we have to fight the attackers keep them at bar from the keep and then start an investigation on the matter. 

We headed to the Mill, it was a trap. We barely escaped. I was forced to use my spell to make time for us to escape. I must say to my surprise that my companions have shown bravery and worthiness in combat. I might begin to trust them, maybe they can serve to my purpose. I will keep an eye on them. Cory the rogue is swift and has a deadly aim, Shae the female warrior-meal is fearless and even though she has seen the face of death she keeps fighting on. The orc brute is anything but that, a brute, he is always keeping an eye on Cory, that seems odd to me.

Back at the keep the attacker's leader approached. A half dragon of sort. I wanted to question him, but it was not the right time. I must be patient and learn more about him and his underlings. He demanded a duel that Shae accepted without hesitation. She shows some sort of blind hatred to these attackers, Intriguing. The half dragon has an immense power, he killed Shae easily with his dragon breath. He also has blue dragon blood in him. This information was worth the sacrifice... 

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sexpansion.tumblr.com

Lost in Translation (2003) dir. Sofia Coppola

"Yeah. I just don’t know what I’m supposed to be, you know. I tried being a writer, but I hate what I write. I tried taking pictures, but they were so mediocre. You know, every girl goes through a photography phase. You know, horses… taking dumb pictures of your feet."

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dacnard

#photophase

Source: sexpansion
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opusenim

Kill Bill: vol. 2 (2004) Quentin Tarantino Tarantino + Daryl Hannah behind the scenes

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dacnard

marionto una foto asi deberiamos de recrear

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