Abolish abuse.

For the past year, I’ve thrown every skill I’ve got into covering the uprising; documenting/embedding/upending fascist organizing; teaching, learning and sharing knowledge.

For the past year, I’ve also been physically, mentally, and emotionally abused. By white supremacists, neo-Nazis, liberals, and a truly staggering number of “comrades.”

For the past seven months, there has been a growing — and now undeniable — divide between movement organizing and “the scene” in activist spaces around the country. This is not unexpected for a movement that burst into the forefront and expanded extremely quickly. It’s also not unexpected for a space to develop where the only available images of what it looks like to organize are photos of people shouting into megaphones. Not unexpected, but deeply frustrating.

The building blocks for a moment to become a movement are accessible. They’re in the knowledge shared by activists, both in their writings and in their analysis of ongoing situations. All it takes is to be open to hearing them and being constantly malleable, allowing for information that contradicts or challenges your existing framework. It takes being willing to ask questions, which is hard to come by in a space that feels like you’re constantly scrambling just to hold on. A few have figured this out. Most have not.

At this point, I don’t know if they ever will. There’s so many indicators that liberals joined the uprising and stuck around, convinced themselves that being in a space they think is radical automatically undoes all of the capitalist, bigoted, self-centered, individualist thinking that our society works overtime to indoctrinate in us. That tendency — of being convinced that you’re radical just because you decided to get involved — has absolutely obliterated scenes across the country and has turned a movement into a stagnant pond full of wastewater and compounding trauma.

I had had hope last fall that the “scene” would see that its time was fading and that to keep up momentum people needed to turn to the next stage of building: autonomy.

I was put on a “shit list,” a not-so-secret document that NYC scene folks created (whose names I’m not sharing) that accuses, among other things, people of being “part of” black bloc. If you know anything about bloc, you know that’s absurd on its face. But facts don’t really matter here.

Alongside people being accused of being “part of” black bloc, I started being accused — in whispers, in group chats I wasn’t in but with plenty of known faces — of organizing autonomous actions.

The theory, as far as I can trace it, is that I organize autonomous actions as traps to film police brutality, despite the fact there’s been numerous autonomous actions I’ve been to where cops didn’t do anything and there’s been even more that I didn’t attend or even know about until after the fact. The purpose of the conspiracy is unclear and I’m desperately fascinated to know the through-line people invented for it. I had plenty of clout long before I started reporting — in fact it was the size of my platform with all those leftist-friendly media folks among my followers that made me first feel like I should be using what I already had to uplift and shed light on things traditional media was happy to ignore. So clout couldn’t be it. And I’ve never sold footage of activists — ever. I even developed a framework of deliberately giving an absurdly high rate to ensure my footage wouldn’t be stolen. I’ll dive into that more in a later post. The only footage I ever sold was at the Capitol insurrection. So selling the footage of my friends getting hurt couldn’t be a viable excuse. I never did figure out what the explanation was behind the conspiracy that I organize autonomous actions. But this wouldn’t be the only conspiracy to emerge in an effort to ostracize me and undermine my work.

The existence of this list explains the aggressive allergy so many people suddenly developed toward the concept of bloc. Within the frameworks of an aggressively paranoid, liberal-guided, and insecure space, people snapped to an ‘us vs. them’ mentality and ate up every dribble of badjacketing they could find, facts or reality be damned. They rushed to grab radical terms to justify their counter-revolutionary behavior, reinforced toxic dynamics, and thoroughly shut down any productive work in lieu of finding safety and security in their clique. They’ve actively undermined real activists from accomplishing tangible goals. It’s unclear if this is deliberate or just well-intentioned people unknowingly doing a wholeass counter-insurgency, but the impact is the same.

People were made to believe that there is a secret group of white anarchists who show up simply to cause destruction. People were made to believe that any security advice didn’t apply to them because “cops already know who I am” or “we’re in public so what’s the point?” — all incredibly bad excuses, all incredibly pervasive.

It’s stunning how readily people will believe a lie because it comforts their anxiety. It feels almost like QAnon in that way: People have been primed to be extremely paranoid, believe only what justifies their paranoia, and to reject any efforts to correct the record. At this point, not even Q could post that it was all a lie, a made-up game, and convince his adherents to believe him. So I’m a little concerned that any attempt to correct the record will be met with the same guffaws of rejection, but luckily those who know better outnumber the (loud) few who don’t.

Back to the shitlist: People have a funny way of saying too much and thinking no one’s paying attention. So far I’ve been able to piece together that there’s claims of transgressions I committed that, I’m sorry to say, are laughably untrue. Events were deliberately distorted, claims levied rooted in myth, and all of it using terms stolen from anarchist spaces to push regressive antics.

One example from the ‘shitlist’ accusations is that I refused to leave a space when my presence made Black people uncomfortable. This claim goes back to September 4th, when I identified where jail support would be and showed up to wait for my friends — whose safety info I was in charge of holding — to get out. People got upset to see me there — I’ll explain why — and attempted to harass and antagonize me into leaving. I didn’t, because I was at jail support for my friends. Five months later, some kid yelled “Why’s she even here! She’s an op!” at a jail support I was at because I had just gotten out of jail. Maybe that effectively conveys the kind of absurd hostility that’s been getting thrown my way.

Earlier on the night of S4, I tweeted that people were regrouping at a park that I knew no one was regrouping at. Some folks will retell this differently to save face, but they had planned in advance to regroup elsewhere, which I won’t name in the event it’s used later. I knew this. I also knew that the NYPD had requested aviation to assist with a grid search of half of Manhattan. I also knew that if aviation found a group of people in bloc they’d have cops on them within seconds. NYPD’s aviation is incredibly precise and has been deployed to grid search for “stragglers” at other actions (including that one in Ft. Greene where SRG smashed a woman’s car windows after she was told she could leave). I knew these things not because I’ve got insider knowledge but because it’s all information that’s easy to find by just googling terms like “NYPD aviation abilities.”

“Costing nearly $10 million each, the helicopters come loaded with cutting-edge technology, including infra-red cameras, a high-tech street mapping system and radiation detectors. A microwave downlink system can transmit live images.” Source: “Inside the NYPD’s Aviation Unit

Knowing all of this, I made a quick judgment call: To tweet that people seem to be “regrouping” at Washington Square Park. In actuality, no one was. Everyone knew to avoid Wash like the plague because it had become such a popular hangout for activists. Immediately, police vans and aviation all rushed much further south than any demonstrator was that night. It took the heat off the spaces demonstrators were trying to get to and bought everyone several minutes to debloc and disperse safely. No one was arrested or accosted at WSP. No one was picked up beyond the initial grabs on 7th Ave and Madison Square Park.

But WSP had, over the summer, become treated like the ‘property’ of a certain group that got extremely defensive over the space. So, when they showed up to jail support later that night, a few of them decided to accost me in an attempt to instigate a fight because they got mad that I uttered their beloved park’s name in a dupe. They attempted to instigate a fight outside a precinct. In front of cops.

It’s worth noting that after S4, I’ve never done a dupe again. Not because it wasn’t incredibly effective, but because it scared the shit out of all these new protestors who had been brushing off information that cops monitor social media. It’s still an exploitable loophole.

Note: The NYPD uses a software similar to Palantir, which is a software that analyzes and aggregates data across multiple platforms to churn out alerts and information to the cops. The LAPD uses it — and you’d do well to read about how much harm it causes.

They blew bubbles six inches from my face trying to provoke me. It failed. They threw my gear in the street. I stayed. They demanded to know who I had inside. I wouldn’t tell them. They tried so hard chew me out and tell me off. I told them they were welcome to express their frustration and that their upset was valid, but that I wasn’t going to take the bait. People surrounded me, all trying to compete against each other to gang up on me. They were responding to the heightened adrenaline of that night more than anything.

When I tried to explain that I was there for my AG, I was cut off. Someone accused me of being there just to film people (?). One guy demanded to know “what AG” I was in because he didn’t know of any AG I could be in. It became clear that he thought — as many in the group did — that “AG” was a term coined by them. It’s a common term used in the DSA. So is “stack.” So is the concept of a gender equity council. And meetings set up with a facilitator and timekeeper? That’s based on “Rusty’s Rules,” which was developed by the I.W.W. — the union of which I’m a member and that has existed since 1905 as the country’s first explicitly anti-racist, anarcho-syndicalist union. I digress.

When my friends got out — the first ones out that night — I ran up to them and embraced them with all the love and joy I could muster. The people who had previously accosted me, who were convinced I was just there to film everyone (I believe I was wearing a “Stop filming faces” shirt), were all incredibly quiet. They realized I actually was there for my comrades. That I actually did have an AG. I don’t think they realized that I was the one calling around to figure out where jail support was, or that S4 was the first time we’d had jail support at the 7th Precinct. But this wasn’t the first time confusion and anger was focused on me.

S4 followed an incident where I was invited to a paint drop action. I was given permission to document the paint drop (so long as it didn’t include any identifying things or voices). I sent the footage and text of what I’d later post to an organizer of the paint drop, who gave me some suggestions, which I folded into the copy. I explicitly asked if their group would claim the action — if I could name them — and I was told “Yes. We will claim it.” I waited until later in the morning to post. Later that day, some MAGA chuds staged a paint drop on the other side of the park, covering the big BLACK LIVES MATTER street mural in pepto pink paint. They rolled around in it and brought photographers along to document. It was stunning that these chuds could engage in such a blatant act of hate in broad daily while people just wanting to be safe had to move in the middle of the night to leave behind a simple ask: “drop the charges.”

Days later, people started flipping out at me, accusing me of “rejecting accountability” and demanding to know why I posted what I did. It seemed no one had bothered telling them I had gotten explicit consent from an organizer for the footage I posted and the announcement about it. I even had someone that night tell me I was allowed to document only to change his mind, presumably at the weight of being the one to consent to anything. Organizers knew I was there ahead of the action. They consented to what I documented, what I wrote, and when I was planning to post it. None of us could have anticipated that MAGAs would do their hate crime in broad daylight later that day and make the disparity between leftists and far right bigots more clear. But people blew up at me anyway. So, already, some folks were already painting a target on my back over their own miscommunications.

It was after S4 that a mysterious little claim that I’m an op would start circulating. The claim would include that I give location info to cops. This is based on a misunderstanding about what my “live-tweeting” looks like. I’ve talked about this before: For hotter actions, I post on a delay. To the average person, it seems live but it’s very much not. On S4, I asked the organizers their thoughts on how best to report — live or nothing? They said a 3 minute delay would be fine because cops had eyes on us anyway.

I’ll dive in further about the strategic choices I make on when/how/what to document in a later post. But suffice to say, experienced organizers don’t give me any guff because they know exactly how I move and how I’ve gotten other press to move, too.

Another trend that arose was the claim that I can’t be trusted because I’m press. While people have their own personal opinions on the validity of press in an activist space, it bears recognizing that as press, I’m legally protected from ever having to reveal my sources, no matter how hard the government pushes. My visibility makes me an easy target, naturally, but that just means I operate on a much higher level of informational security than someone casually joining a single protest and then going about their day.

At no point did anyone accusing me of being an op ever ask for a rundown of how I operate — they just went with what others who don’t know what they’re talking about told them. I had this one hilarious moment where someone who works in communications told me I’m bad at my job and they would know because they’re “in media.” Bless your heart.

It was other press people who picked my brain, who held space to let me make the case to them about not filming faces and other baseline safety practices to adopt. I became a sort of translator between the security concerns of activists and the need for press folks to move a little differently than they would in any other space. I raged against live-streaming for how little control it gives you and how much information it gives cops. I used my professional position to advocate for the safety of people who “traditional press” and “not real press” were constantly trying to write off.

There was that ‘joke’ people made behind my back about how I was only doing the work I was doing ‘for a book deal.’ I still can’t begin to articulate how much that one hurt but I can say I’ve never felt my purpose so erased and minimized than when I heard it.

I don’t want to write a book. I don’t want fame or celebrity. I want to be a conduit of information and to help push back against the status quo that is constantly trying to delegitimize the validity of those fighting against the state. It kills me that some people never saw that. They watched me get assaulted. Doxxed. Harassed. Constantly dogpiled and targeted. They saw me stand between themselves and an aggressive police line because I figured out quickly that being press meant whoever was behind me had a fighting chance at not being hurt. And they decided I must be going through all this pain, literally putting my body on the line, for a book. Not for the people. Not for the cause. But for a fucking book.

In any case, the badjacketing started to grow. Not only were there claims that I’m very broadly “an op,” but that I organize autonomous actions as a trap. Then it became claims that I’m in charge of ‘the white anarchists,’ which isn’t a thing that exists. Then I run RUST, the remote channel that listens to scanners and drops info from social media to help people on the ground stay safe. That claim appears to be because, as a reporter, RUST sometimes references things I post. They do the same for Thizzl and Scootercaster. But because I’m the press person who also talks about organizing, agitating, and growing — the conspiracy is that I run RUST. There’s also been claims that I enable abuse, I’m a live-streamer, that I’m making six figures off Patreon, that I secretly sell footage of comrades, that any anonymous communique, flyer, action, or call to action that appears is my doing. I’m sure there’s hesitancy for people to support the Protect The Protesters initiative created by activists because they assume I’m behind it simply because I wrote about the NYPD collaborating with the NYPost and got a heads up the day protecttheprotesters.com went live. Man, not even Beyoncé has that many hours in a day.

It’s an interesting trend when you zoom out.

  • You shouldn’t wear bloc because only the white anarchists, who I’m in charge of, trying to break shit do that.
  • You shouldn’t go to autonomous actions because it’s a trap, organized by me for reasons unknown.
  • You shouldn’t listen to the info RUST is providing because I’m the one who runs it.
  • You shouldn’t contact local officials to end cop collaborating with the media because I’m the one who’s behind it.

Every thing radical people have attempted to create or do with the intent of helping the broader scene gets called an op — and I’m the one who gets accused of being behind it so nobody does anything substantively useful.

Kind of makes you wonder who’s rushing to make those claims and why they’re so happy to slap the “op” label on anything legitimate activists are trying to do.

Badjacketing and conspiratorial thinking do not ever come without harm.

Following the events of January 6th, an indie reporter let slip that she was told to keep a distance from me in D.C. because I’m recognizable to fascists. This isn’t true. Enrique Tarrio previously saw some live-streamer who hangs out with Baked Alaska and insisted she was me because not even Enrique Tarrio knows what I look like, despite pulling up a photo of my Twitter profile and showing it to her. Despite me sounding nothing like her. Despite the fact that I got caught on the fash side of a police line and, while in full press gear, chatted up several chuds without them having a single clue who they were talking to. I spent hours chatting with well-known fascists in multiple states and they’ve never, ever recognized me. I knew this. So how’d it come about?

A misogynist in NYC — who previously had access to that ‘shit list’ — told D.C. people a lie. He even called up NYC comrades sweating about how I was an op. Group spaces I wasn’t in started feeding off the paranoia. He got D.C. to trust him, to believe him when he said “Don’t trust Talia because they’re recognizable to fascists on the ground.”

This is an absurd strategy on its face, because what if I am recognizable to fascists? The safest move, in your mind, is to leave me completely alone so that when they recognize me, there’s no one to protect against me being brutalized? Sounds like a great strategy to get someone you don’t like seriously hurt.

Sadly, no one seemed inclined to question this claim — or to bring it up to me to ask if it was true. They just took the conspiracy and ran with it. Talia’s an op. Talia runs RUST. Talia is the leader of the white anarchists. Fascists recognize Talia on the ground. Talia organizes all of the autonomous actions as a trap…

On January 6th, 2021, I found myself at the frontlines of an insurrection surrounded by men all a foot taller than me happy to trample and shove anyone who got in their way. Talc bullets grazed me. A flash bomb rolled past my feet. I absorbed pepper spray, tear gas, and stood within inches of cops being punched in their pepper spray-filled faces. When the chaos got to be too dangerous for me to not get hurt, I had to climb a scaffolding. I had no one looking out for me. Meanwhile, three recognizable D.C. press guys had each other’s backs somewhere further off in the crowd.

I was stuck there, for hours, gauging the likelihood the scaffolding would collapse with every sway. I couldn’t get any messages through. I couldn’t climb down because the violent throng of bodies below. I was left to calculate the possibility of my death, alone. And it was all based on a lie told by a misogynist with an axe to grind. He’d previously hosted a group call where he yelled into the phone about how I’m “not a comrade.” Then a little bit after that, he’d find himself on the outskirts of every community space. The first one he got kicked out from because of his misogyny and refusal to engage in restorative accountability. The second was because he tried badjacketing too many people and everyone suddenly got wise to what he was doing.

A few still fuck with him. I don’t think they know, yet, that they’re enabling an abuser. But I do know they think he’s not as bad as anyone he’s harmed makes him out to be.

The people who have accused me of being an op have never apologized and likely never will. The people who repeated the lies, some of them realized they got caught up in the moment and have internally recognized the harm it caused. I can count a total of 1 person who has reached out to express regret that when I expressed incredible sadness at realizing there was no space I was in where someone wasn’t badjacketing me somewhere else, they took that as an attack or a threat. Whenever I try articulating the harm people engaged in, facilitated, or didn’t speak up against, I can see clearly the regret some people have. People see, to some extent, that they took the bait and let someone just doing their best get ostracized and traumatized based on lies.

For the most part, people have stayed silent. Maybe they don’t realize the severity of the situation. Maybe they don’t think that their silence was complicity, even though it was. Maybe they think it’s okay that they benefitted from the misogyny-fueled paranoia that caused me harm, that it’s okay to say “you can trust me because I’m not REAL press like Talia is.” As if that helps anyone.

The badjacketing got so pervasive that even now, people who know better still have a reflexive impulse to feel tense and anxious around me. Don’t trust Talia because they’re press. I know people still carry that reflex and haven’t yet broken apart that foundation rooted in disinformation, misogyny, and straight up ignorance. Don’t be on the ground near Talia because they’re identifiable. I’m anxious to have an ask for help tied to me because it means people will automatically shut it down. That’s what happens: Repeat a lie often enough, it will become the truth.

I would ask you to make it make sense, but it doesn’t. It’s not supposed to. It’s supposed to make you undermine yourself and cut you off from healthy community.

When I see patterns of toxic behavior start to emerge, I put a pin in them. Maybe it’s just a temporary thing, maybe it’ll shake out. When they continue and start growing, I speak on them. I don’t name names because it’s not about the person. It’s about the behavior, which anyone can end up doing if they’re not careful.

By highlighting these behaviors, we can look into the root causes of them — are they well-intentioned? Actively harmful? — and find ways to problem solve against them. By repositioning our language, we shift away from applying a label to a person and leaving it at that (“Talia is an op”). Instead, we highlight the specific behaviors we’ve recognized in one, ten, or a thousand people, how we feel they aren’t helpful, and find constructive means to mitigate them. “Accusing someone of being an op is harmful because it eliminates a framework of restorative justice and makes it easy for disinformation and paranoia to spread.”

I think I’ve named all of 4 people or organizations that I flagged as repeatedly engaging in unacceptably harmful behaviors. One, RefuseFascism, which is a cult front that exploits the Black Lives Matter movement for their own personal gain. Two, The General, who pepper sprayed activists on Breonna Day when he showed up to a space he wasn’t welcome in. Three, Big Mike, who physically harmed and threatened multiple people, posted revenge porn, and has repeatedly harassed, threatened, and attempted to grift. Four, NYCMarchers, who were led by a Zionist and who were documented repeatedly harassing people at City Hall, scammed funds, and used good people genuinely fighting for a better world as a shield against accountability.

For each of these, I waited until the evidence became undeniable and attempts at collectively trying to encourage healthier behavior went unheeded before I shifted from speaking on the behavior to the entity. It’s not that I have any kind of power to take anyone down. It’s that so much harm had already been caused that by the time I said anything, for the most part, people were already well-aware. It was only a few focused on attaching themselves to what they perceived to be sources of building their personal power who pushed back. And it was those few who invested their energies in attacking me, in trying to push disinformation and dogpiles against me. Ever heard the phrase Don’t shoot the messenger?

I have continued to be a target. People will continue assuming straight up lies about me, will continue not fucking with me based on disinfo, will continue trying to paint me as the problem in an effort to reject their need to embrace opportunities for growth. I’m almost afraid to stop reporting on the activist scene because once that happens, those well-intentioned people moving in bad faith will only find a new target. I’d prefer they keep focusing on me, acting as if everything they dislike, don’t understand, or don’t trust is something I had a hand in. That way, at least, they’re not hurting people who can’t handle it. But like the misogynist who ran a hate campaign against me, inevitably the problem tries targeting enough people that everyone gets wise to what’s happening.

I have endured incredible trauma with virtually zero support network from simply trying to be a conduit between the knowledge of our elders and the enthusiasm of these new folks. It’s clear to me that none of the community-building knowledge, the most basic security practices to keep themselves safe, the history of what happens to people who fight the state — none of what I have desperately tried to have heard is going to be heard. It’s an op.

I’ll admit, I haven’t been the softest and sweetest, but why do I need to be soft and sweet when telling you that being incoherently drunk in front of cops is a bad idea? Why does anyone need to be mothered into realizing obscuring their identity at actions buys them time before the state uses everything in its toolkit to destroy and silence them, regardless of how “peaceful” they’re being? Maybe there’s some misogyny at play when someone who knows with absolute certainty what people need to be rushing toward (because they’ve done their homework) gets called an op at every turn. Maybe you shouldn’t need to be babied into hearing common sense. Maybe.

So I’m trying something new.

I’m off the ground. I’m depriving a dead scene of its last punching bag, force-freezing the bad faith abuse and leaving you nothing but a mirror for self-examination. Most likely you will turn to infighting, cannibalizing your community as you gradually realize that fighting all of this is incredibly hard and you’ve been primed to reject everything that would give you a leg-up. I’m already seeing it start to take shape, and like hell am I going to be part of a space inching towards its own destruction. It’s an op!

Over the next few months, I’ll be writing all the drafts I’ve had knocking around inside my head. In those pieces will be analysis, comparison, strategic breakdowns for use/reference, and a whole lot of knowledge pulled from moving with the spirit of revolution.

My hope is that eventually, maybe, you’ll read through them and see some flicker of recognition. An echo of something you’ve been feeling but couldn’t quite put your finger on.

You should know now that none of what I’ve written or will write is coming out of a vacuum — all of it is a blend of analysis from an anarcho-syndicalist perspective and the often-vocalized frustrations of real deal activists who have been in this fight longer than any of us have been alive.

Whether you decide to read them or brush them off as irrelevant, I can say for certain that one way or another, you’re going to figure out what activists have been trying to teach you. I just hope that you figure it out quickly, comprehensively, and without getting exposed to all of the abuse you’ve either readily engaged in or passively allowed to swirl around you as it settled on me.

You’re losing your black sheep. Your “radical white racist.” Your leader of the white anarchists, RUST, organizer of all autonomous actions, op, infiltrator, whatever. It’s my sincere hope that without being able to blame me for things you turn your focus to your real enemy instead of your friends. I’m terrified that you’ll do the opposite, because that’s the trend that has emerged in every other scene this year.

When you get to that point where that lightbulb clicks on, I hope you know my solidarity is real: I’ll be here, happy to get you plugged into things that build lasting impact, ready to get you connected with people invested in creating a legitimately healthy community of comrades dedicated to the marathon.

It is our duty to fight for our freedom.

It is our duty to win.

We must love each other and support each other.

We have nothing to lose but our chains.

A quick overview of some of the things I’ve written and done in the past year:

  • Send In The Feds: An analysis of the growing frustration of people wanting to escalate the fight as the summer’s uprising began to cool.
  • Mic Check Vibe Check: A rundown of what to expect at a protest, including signs of a safe and unsafe action.
  • A Tale of Two Scenes: How the NYC protest scene started to split between one that idolizes leaders/figureheads with people waiting to be told what to do and one that rejects the hierarchy in favor of horizontalism and community empowerment.
  • The Autonomy of an NYC Protest: An analysis of NYC’s rapid descent into scene death.
  • When Fascists Roam The Streets, Staying Home Isn’t An Option: A breakdown of every excuse that’s made to justify not fighting against fascism in any capacity just because the most direct one seems impossible
  • Report from DC: Activists Brace For “Klanuary”: Interviews with multiple DC activists and organizations about their concerns ahead of J6 and their plans on keeping people safe.
  • Report from DC: Hotel Workers Hope The Worst Is Over: How DC hotel workers had to smile and nod at white supremacists for three months, watch them raid the Capitol, and have their city taken over by a military occupation.
  • How We Cope: The myriad ways activists carrying incredibly heavy trauma are coping.
  • The New York Post Loves Doxxing Protestors: A breakdown of how the NYPost develops copaganda and works with police to intimidate people away from protesting — and what you can do about it.
  • Keep Cops Out Of Pride: The history of Pride, the NYPD, and how the NYPD’s most valuable tool in justifying their abuse is being well-perceived among New Yorkers.

Here’s some stuff I reported on direct to Twitter or only got to give quotes on (most of it was my original reporting that media outlets just… stole).

More soon!