Amazon’s profits are built on worker injuries, union busting, and surveillance—and we’re done rewarding their exploitation.
We are #BetterThanAmazon. Let’s stand up to the monopoly and its billionaire founder by stepping away.
Amazon’s profits are built on worker injuries, union busting, and surveillance—and we’re done rewarding their exploitation.
We are #BetterThanAmazon. Let’s stand up to the monopoly and its billionaire founder by stepping away.
Happy Independence Day. No Kings in America.
Happy Independence Day. No Kings in America.
@maddow.msnbc.com @indivisible.org @ezralevin.bsky.social @moveon.org @50501movement.bsky.social
#NoKings
@maddow.msnbc.com @indivisible.org @ezralevin.bsky.social @moveon.org @50501movement.bsky.social
#NoKings
Now, after returning to ICE custody, no one knows where he is.
sourcenm.com/2025/06/11/i...
Now, after returning to ICE custody, no one knows where he is.
sourcenm.com/2025/06/11/i...
Independent bookstores aren’t *just* bookstores. They are pillars of their communities and supporting them means supporting all of the incredible work they do beyond selling books.
They’re invaluable. Am*zon is not.
Independent bookstores aren’t *just* bookstores. They are pillars of their communities and supporting them means supporting all of the incredible work they do beyond selling books.
They’re invaluable. Am*zon is not.
Win-win.
Win-win.
www.lonestarleft.com/p/texas-runo...
www.lonestarleft.com/p/texas-runo...
Only the soulless aren’t hurting from what is happening in our country. This is affecting all of us.
Only the soulless aren’t hurting from what is happening in our country. This is affecting all of us.
poets.org/poem/new-col...
Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door.
poets.org/poem/new-col...
Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door.