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Raising the Price of Protest
Greenpeace Staff Attorney Deepa Padmanabha outside the Morton County Memorial Courthouse after closing arguments.
For the past three weeks, in a state courthouse in Mandan, North Dakota, the fossil fuel company behind the Dakota Access Pipeline has been trying to put a dollar amount on the price of protest. Their starting bid was $300 million.
In a civil suit, Energy Transfer claimed Greenpeace secretly orchestrated the Indigenous-led Standing Rock protests through a campaign of misinformation, tortious interference, and, I guess, black magic.
Wednesday afternoon, the jury awarded Energy Transfer over twice what the fossil fuel giant originally asked for. Hundreds of millions of dollars.
The decision has a very real chance of bankrupting Greenpeace in the US, and will have financial implications for Greenpeace offices around the world.
——————————————————————
By blaming Greenpeace, Energy Transfer framed Standing Rock as a monolithic movement with a centralized, top-down power source. This power source, some mythical “Greenpeace,” made decisions for everyone, doled out money, and gave permission for various actions across time and space.
That strict hierarchical world is the only one Energy Transfer can imagine, a world where everything has a centrally-controlled price that dictates decisions. They can’t conceive of a distributed power network of self-organizing resistance hubs where needs or rights might not have a dollar value. They can’t imagine large numbers of individuals who share the same values, embodying collective resistance and protection. There has to be a big, rich boss. Greenpeace.
And while Energy Transfer, part of MAGA’s private wing, is working to bankrupt protesters through legal slop, MAGA’s enforcement wing is physically detaining protesters without the due process the constitution requires.
Last Saturday, federal agents kidnapped, without charge or explanation, Columbia University student Mahmoud Khalil—a legal, permanent U.S. resident—at his home, in front of his pregnant wife, then transported him a thousand miles away to a detention center in Louisiana, where they’ve held him since.
Now, they are fighting tooth and nail to deport him. Why? Because he protested the U.S. enabling of the genocide in Gaza, peacefully exercising his rights to free speech and assembly.
In Mahmoud Khalil’s case, the punishment for speaking out against government policy is arrest, detention, and deportation..
In Greenpeace’s case, the punishment for speaking out against corporate abuse is half a billion dollars.
This oligarch affinity group of private interests and government agents are raising the cost of non-compliance for anyone engaged in meaningful resistance.
They want non-compliance to feel impossible.
On the corporate side, Energy Transfer is part of an effort to commodify protest by tying its cost directly to the theoretical economic impact resistance might have on company value. They are falsely claiming that, somehow, Greenpeace led the #NoDAPL resistance at Standing Rock, and that the campaign of “misinformation” and “tortious interference” caused the company multi-million dollar delays, exorbitant security costs, bad PR, and just generally bummed them out.
Price? Half a billion dollars.
According to economist Karl Polanyi, a “fictitious commodity” is something that was not originally produced for sale but is treated as if it has a market price. So, for example, human activity is not something naturally produced for sale—it’s a fundamental part of life—and yet we have hourly wages, gig economy services, and salaries that allow companies to translate our human activity, our life, into a flexible, market-traded service. Labor.
Or, another example from Polanyi – land. Land is a shared communal space, not “naturally” for sale, but corporations like Energy Transfer have turned it into a commodity, filled with other extractable commodities. They understand the price.
And now, Energy Transfer is trying to turn protest into a “fictitious commodity” with a price that can be calculated, both by corporate interests, and, they hope, protesters who will have to think twice about whether they can afford it.
These moves aren’t just about punishing Greenpeace— though the oligarchs are clearly relishing that part—they’re about establishing a financial formula for suppressing dissent. It’s about making disobedience an externality in economic calculations, rather than a fundamental political right.
If this logic holds, the right to protest will no longer be an inherent democratic right but a cost-burdened activity—one that could be priced out of existence for groups without the financial means to withstand these lawsuits.
It’s not just about suing Greenpeace for damages but about setting a precedent: the more expensive a project, the more financially risky it will be to protest it. At the end of the day, it’s about making sure corporate power dictates what kind of activism is financially and legally survivable.
——————————————————————
Beyond imprisoning and bankrupting protesters, the oligarchs are also trying to fix protest in their MAGA worldview, where gold cards replace green cards and dissent requires a fixed payment, like membership dues or an HOA fee.
In their world, if, for example, you want to protest Elon Musk’s unelected gutting of humanitarian aid programs by holding up signs outside a Tesla dealership, then you need to weigh your disobedience on the Mahmoud Khalil/Greenpeace scale. Is it worth it to speak out?
Do you have half a billion dollars? Do you want to be deported without due process? Can you risk it?
And even if you’re not a protestor. Even if you aren’t holding up signs, chanting, or marching. You’re just somebody who works with federal grants to help transition the economy off of fossil fuels. Because you believe climate change is real.
Then, you’re also at risk. The FBI recently informed Citibank that it had received ‘credible information’ about a possible conspiracy to defraud the United States through the Inflation Reduction Act’s Greenhouse Gas Reduction Fund (GGRF). And until the FBI can find out just what’s going on here, the EPA has frozen billions of dollars in funding for Habitat for Humanity, the United Way, the Climate United Fund, Appalachian Community Capital, and a few more partner organizations.
So you, too, need to weigh your work on these newly tipped scales. Can you afford to work on clean energy? On Gaza? On gender? On justice?
It’s all part of the overall campaign to raise the cost of disobedience until it feels impossible. This is how authoritarianism grows: not just through sweeping military takeovers or riotous occupation— but also through a slow, methodical increase in the physical, financial, and mental price of resistance.
Protesters aren’t just assaulted and jailed; they are sued and financially squeezed, legally entangled. Lawsuits make speaking out unaffordable. Immigration laws make activism life-threatening. Police make dissent a bodily risk.
The goal is not just to punish protest, but to make the very idea of defiance feel too costly to attempt.
The next stage won’t look like the military coups we’ve seen elsewhere. Like everything else, it will be as “American” as apple pie. Idiocracy as prophecy. A mesmerizing spectacle, while the courts chip away at representative government, the price of disobedience rises, until everyday people become too scared—or too fatigued—to fight back.
If they can make Greenpeace pay $600 million, if they can disappear Mahmoud Khalil into a detention center, then you should probably just keep quiet. Pick your battles. Save your powder. You survived the first Trump administration, right?
Right?
——————————————————————

Photo by Stephanie Keith/Greenpeace
Amber Massie-Blomfield, in her book Acts of Resistance, writes:
“Lately, I’ve been reminded of the story of A. J. Muste, a prolific American pacifist who, according to legend, during the years of the war in Vietnam, stood outside the White House with a candle, every single night. For years. When a journalist asked him, ‘Do you really think you are going to change the policies of this country by standing out here alone with a candle?’ he answered: ‘Oh, I don’t do this to change the country. I do this so the country won’t change me.’”
Resistance starts with a decision like this, a choice to refuse compliance, to refuse silence, to refuse to look away. But individual resistance is not simply about high-profile symbolic acts—candles or banners—it’s about sustained, boring, uncomfortable defiance. It’s about school board meetings, abortion funds, mutual aid, and calling out bad actors, even when it’s inconvenient. It’s about discomfort, pushing back against people we might know and love but who we know, in our heart of hearts, are wrong.
It will, most likely, mean being seen, being labeled, and being targeted.
It will cost a lot. But not as much as silence.
Follow Alleen Brown’s reporting on the Greenpeace trial here: https://bsky.app/profile/alleenbrown.bsky.social
And share why you’re with Greenpeace here: https://www.greenpeace.org/international/act/we-will-not-be-silenced/
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{
"article":
{
"title" : "Raising the Price of Protest",
"author" : "Travis Nichols",
"category" : "essays",
"url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/raising-the-price-of-protest",
"date" : "2025-03-20 10:31:00 -0400",
"img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/2025_03_20_Greenpeace_S3.jpg",
"excerpt" : "Greenpeace Staff Attorney Deepa Padmanabha outside the Morton County Memorial Courthouse after closing arguments.",
"content" : "Greenpeace Staff Attorney Deepa Padmanabha outside the Morton County Memorial Courthouse after closing arguments.For the past three weeks, in a state courthouse in Mandan, North Dakota, the fossil fuel company behind the Dakota Access Pipeline has been trying to put a dollar amount on the price of protest. Their starting bid was $300 million.In a civil suit, Energy Transfer claimed Greenpeace secretly orchestrated the Indigenous-led Standing Rock protests through a campaign of misinformation, tortious interference, and, I guess, black magic.Wednesday afternoon, the jury awarded Energy Transfer over twice what the fossil fuel giant originally asked for. Hundreds of millions of dollars.The decision has a very real chance of bankrupting Greenpeace in the US, and will have financial implications for Greenpeace offices around the world.——————————————————————By blaming Greenpeace, Energy Transfer framed Standing Rock as a monolithic movement with a centralized, top-down power source. This power source, some mythical “Greenpeace,” made decisions for everyone, doled out money, and gave permission for various actions across time and space.That strict hierarchical world is the only one Energy Transfer can imagine, a world where everything has a centrally-controlled price that dictates decisions. They can’t conceive of a distributed power network of self-organizing resistance hubs where needs or rights might not have a dollar value. They can’t imagine large numbers of individuals who share the same values, embodying collective resistance and protection. There has to be a big, rich boss. Greenpeace.And while Energy Transfer, part of MAGA’s private wing, is working to bankrupt protesters through legal slop, MAGA’s enforcement wing is physically detaining protesters without the due process the constitution requires.Last Saturday, federal agents kidnapped, without charge or explanation, Columbia University student Mahmoud Khalil—a legal, permanent U.S. resident—at his home, in front of his pregnant wife, then transported him a thousand miles away to a detention center in Louisiana, where they’ve held him since.Now, they are fighting tooth and nail to deport him. Why? Because he protested the U.S. enabling of the genocide in Gaza, peacefully exercising his rights to free speech and assembly.In Mahmoud Khalil’s case, the punishment for speaking out against government policy is arrest, detention, and deportation..In Greenpeace’s case, the punishment for speaking out against corporate abuse is half a billion dollars.This oligarch affinity group of private interests and government agents are raising the cost of non-compliance for anyone engaged in meaningful resistance.They want non-compliance to feel impossible.On the corporate side, Energy Transfer is part of an effort to commodify protest by tying its cost directly to the theoretical economic impact resistance might have on company value. They are falsely claiming that, somehow, Greenpeace led the #NoDAPL resistance at Standing Rock, and that the campaign of “misinformation” and “tortious interference” caused the company multi-million dollar delays, exorbitant security costs, bad PR, and just generally bummed them out.Price? Half a billion dollars.According to economist Karl Polanyi, a “fictitious commodity” is something that was not originally produced for sale but is treated as if it has a market price. So, for example, human activity is not something naturally produced for sale—it’s a fundamental part of life—and yet we have hourly wages, gig economy services, and salaries that allow companies to translate our human activity, our life, into a flexible, market-traded service. Labor.Or, another example from Polanyi – land. Land is a shared communal space, not “naturally” for sale, but corporations like Energy Transfer have turned it into a commodity, filled with other extractable commodities. They understand the price.And now, Energy Transfer is trying to turn protest into a “fictitious commodity” with a price that can be calculated, both by corporate interests, and, they hope, protesters who will have to think twice about whether they can afford it.These moves aren’t just about punishing Greenpeace— though the oligarchs are clearly relishing that part—they’re about establishing a financial formula for suppressing dissent. It’s about making disobedience an externality in economic calculations, rather than a fundamental political right.If this logic holds, the right to protest will no longer be an inherent democratic right but a cost-burdened activity—one that could be priced out of existence for groups without the financial means to withstand these lawsuits.It’s not just about suing Greenpeace for damages but about setting a precedent: the more expensive a project, the more financially risky it will be to protest it. At the end of the day, it’s about making sure corporate power dictates what kind of activism is financially and legally survivable.——————————————————————Beyond imprisoning and bankrupting protesters, the oligarchs are also trying to fix protest in their MAGA worldview, where gold cards replace green cards and dissent requires a fixed payment, like membership dues or an HOA fee.In their world, if, for example, you want to protest Elon Musk’s unelected gutting of humanitarian aid programs by holding up signs outside a Tesla dealership, then you need to weigh your disobedience on the Mahmoud Khalil/Greenpeace scale. Is it worth it to speak out?Do you have half a billion dollars? Do you want to be deported without due process? Can you risk it?And even if you’re not a protestor. Even if you aren’t holding up signs, chanting, or marching. You’re just somebody who works with federal grants to help transition the economy off of fossil fuels. Because you believe climate change is real.Then, you’re also at risk. The FBI recently informed Citibank that it had received ‘credible information’ about a possible conspiracy to defraud the United States through the Inflation Reduction Act’s Greenhouse Gas Reduction Fund (GGRF). And until the FBI can find out just what’s going on here, the EPA has frozen billions of dollars in funding for Habitat for Humanity, the United Way, the Climate United Fund, Appalachian Community Capital, and a few more partner organizations.So you, too, need to weigh your work on these newly tipped scales. Can you afford to work on clean energy? On Gaza? On gender? On justice?It’s all part of the overall campaign to raise the cost of disobedience until it feels impossible. This is how authoritarianism grows: not just through sweeping military takeovers or riotous occupation— but also through a slow, methodical increase in the physical, financial, and mental price of resistance.Protesters aren’t just assaulted and jailed; they are sued and financially squeezed, legally entangled. Lawsuits make speaking out unaffordable. Immigration laws make activism life-threatening. Police make dissent a bodily risk.The goal is not just to punish protest, but to make the very idea of defiance feel too costly to attempt.The next stage won’t look like the military coups we’ve seen elsewhere. Like everything else, it will be as “American” as apple pie. Idiocracy as prophecy. A mesmerizing spectacle, while the courts chip away at representative government, the price of disobedience rises, until everyday people become too scared—or too fatigued—to fight back.If they can make Greenpeace pay $600 million, if they can disappear Mahmoud Khalil into a detention center, then you should probably just keep quiet. Pick your battles. Save your powder. You survived the first Trump administration, right?Right?——————————————————————Photo by Stephanie Keith/GreenpeaceAmber Massie-Blomfield, in her book Acts of Resistance, writes:“Lately, I’ve been reminded of the story of A. J. Muste, a prolific American pacifist who, according to legend, during the years of the war in Vietnam, stood outside the White House with a candle, every single night. For years. When a journalist asked him, ‘Do you really think you are going to change the policies of this country by standing out here alone with a candle?’ he answered: ‘Oh, I don’t do this to change the country. I do this so the country won’t change me.’”Resistance starts with a decision like this, a choice to refuse compliance, to refuse silence, to refuse to look away. But individual resistance is not simply about high-profile symbolic acts—candles or banners—it’s about sustained, boring, uncomfortable defiance. It’s about school board meetings, abortion funds, mutual aid, and calling out bad actors, even when it’s inconvenient. It’s about discomfort, pushing back against people we might know and love but who we know, in our heart of hearts, are wrong.It will, most likely, mean being seen, being labeled, and being targeted.It will cost a lot. But not as much as silence.Follow Alleen Brown’s reporting on the Greenpeace trial here: https://bsky.app/profile/alleenbrown.bsky.socialAnd share why you’re with Greenpeace here: https://www.greenpeace.org/international/act/we-will-not-be-silenced/"
}
,
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{
"title" : "Black Liberation Views on Palestine",
"author" : "EIP Editors",
"category" : "essays",
"url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/black-liberation-on-palestine",
"date" : "2025-10-17 09:01:00 -0400",
"img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/mandela-keffiyeh.jpg",
"excerpt" : "",
"content" : "In understanding global politics, it is important to look at Black liberation struggles as one important source of moral perspective. So, when looking at Palestine, we look to Black leaders to see how they perceived the Palestinian struggle in relation to theirs, from the 1960’s to today.Why must we understand where the injustice lies? Because, as Desmond Tutu famously said, “If you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor.”{% for person in site.data.quotes-black-liberation-palestine %}{{ person.name }}{% for quote in person.quotes %}“{{ quote.text }}”{% if quote.source %}— {{ quote.source }}{% endif %}{% endfor %}{% endfor %}"
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{
"title" : "First Anniversary Celebration of EIP",
"author" : "EIP Editors",
"category" : "events",
"url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/1st-anniversary-of-eip",
"date" : "2025-10-14 18:01:00 -0400",
"img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/WSA_EIP_Launch_Cover.jpg",
"excerpt" : "Celebrating One Year of Independent Publishing",
"content" : "Celebrating One Year of Independent PublishingJoin Everything is Political on November 21st for the launch of our End-of-Year Special Edition Magazine.This members-only evening will feature a benefit dinner, cocktails, and live performances in celebration of a year of independent media, critical voices, and collective resistance.The EventNovember 21, 2025, 7-11pmLower Manhattan, New YorkLaunching our End-of-Year Special Edition MagazineSpecial appearances and performancesFood & Drink includedTickets are extremely limited, reserve yours now!Become an annual print member: get x back issues of EIP, receive the End-of-Year Special Edition Magazine, and come to the Anniversary Celebration.$470Already a member? Sign in to get your special offer. Buy Ticket $150 Just $50 ! and get the End-of-Year Special Edition Magazine Buy ticket $150 and get the End-of-Year Special Edition Magazine "
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,
{
"title" : "Miu Miu Transforms the Apron From Trad Wife to Boss Lady: The sexiest thing in Paris was a work garment",
"author" : "Khaoula Ghanem",
"category" : "",
"url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/miu-miu-transforms-the-apron-from-trad-wife-to-boss-lady",
"date" : "2025-10-14 13:05:00 -0400",
"img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/Cover_EIP_MiuMiu_Apron.jpg",
"excerpt" : "Miuccia Prada has a habit of taking the least “fashion” thing in the room and making it the argument. For Spring 2026 at Miu Miu, the argument is the apron; staged not as a coy retro flourish but as a total system. The show’s mise-en-scène read like a canteen or factory floor with melamine-like tables, rationalist severity, a whiff of cleaning fluid. In other words, a runway designed to force a conversation about labor before any sparkle could distract us.",
"content" : "Miuccia Prada has a habit of taking the least “fashion” thing in the room and making it the argument. For Spring 2026 at Miu Miu, the argument is the apron; staged not as a coy retro flourish but as a total system. The show’s mise-en-scène read like a canteen or factory floor with melamine-like tables, rationalist severity, a whiff of cleaning fluid. In other words, a runway designed to force a conversation about labor before any sparkle could distract us.From the opening look—German actress Sandra Hüller in a utilitarian deep-blue apron layered over a barn jacket and neat blue shirting—the thesis was loud: the “cover” becomes the thing itself. As silhouettes marched on, aprons multiplied and mutated—industrial drill cotton with front pockets, raw canvas, taffeta and cloqué silk, lace-edged versions that flirted with lingerie, even black leather and crystal-studded incarnations that reframed function as ornament. What the apron traditionally shields (clothes, bodies, “the good dress”) was inverted; the protection became the prized surface. Prada herself spelled it out: “The apron is my favorite piece of clothing… it symbolizes women, from factories through to serving to the home.”Miu Miu Spring 2026 Ready-to-Wear. SuppliedThis inversion matters historically. The apron’s earliest fashion-adjacent life was industrial. It served as a barrier against grease, heat, stain. It was a token of paid and unpaid care. Miu Miu tapped that lineage directly (canvas, work belts, D-ring hardware), then sliced it against domestic codes (florals, ruffles, crochet), and finally pushed into nightlife with bejeweled and leather bibs. The garment’s migration across materials made its social migrations visible. It is a kitchen apron, yes, but also one for labs, hospitals, and factories; the set and styling insisted on that plurality.What makes the apron such a loaded emblem is not just what it covers, but what it reveals about who has always been working. Before industrialization formalized labor into factory shifts and wages, women were already performing invisible labour, the kind that doesn’t exist on payrolls but sits at the foundation of every functioning society. They were cooking, cleaning, raising children, nursing the ill. These tasks were foundational to every economy and yet absent from every ledger. Even when women entered the industrial workforce, from textile plants to wartime assembly lines, their domestic responsibilities did not disappear, they doubled. In that context, the apron here is a quiet manifesto for the strength that goes unrecorded, unthanked, and yet keeps civilization running.The algorithmic rise of the “tradwife,” the influencer economy that packages domesticity as soft power, is the contemporary cultural shadow here. Miu Miu’s apron refuses that rehearsal. In fact, it’s intentionally awkward—oversized, undone, worn over bikinis or with sturdy shoes—so the viewer can’t flatten it into Pinterest-ready nostalgia. Critics noted the collection as a reclamation, a rebuttal to the flattening forces of the feed: the apron as a uniform for endurance rather than submission. The show notes framed it simply as “a consideration of the work of women,” a reminder that the invisible economies of effort—paid, unpaid, emotional—still structure daily life.If that sounds unusually explicit for a luxury runway, consider the designer. Prada trained as a mime at Milan’s Piccolo Teatro, earned a PhD in political science, joined the Italian Communist Party, and was active in the women’s rights movement in 1970s Milan. Those facts are not trivia; they are the grammar of her clothes. Decades of “ugly chic” were, essentially, a slow campaign against easy consumption and default beauty. In 2026, the apron becomes the newest dialect. An emblem drawn from leftist feminist history, recoded into a product that still has to sell. That tension—belief versus business—is the Miuccia paradox, and it’s precisely why these aprons read as statements, not trends.The runway narrative traced a journey from function to fetish. Early looks were squarely utilitarian—thick cottons, pocketed bibs—before migrating toward fragility and sparkle. Lace aprons laid transparently over swimmers; crystal-studded aprons slipped across cocktail territory; leather apron-dresses stiffened posture into armor. The sequencing proposed the same silhouette can encode labor, intimacy, and spectacle depending on fabrication. If most brands smuggle “workwear” in as set dressing, Miu Miu forced it onto the body as the central garment and an unmissable reminder that the feminine is often asked to be both shield and display at once.It’s instructive to read this collection against the house’s last mega-viral object: the micro-mini of Spring 2022, a pleated, raw-hem wafer that colonized timelines and magazine covers. That skirt’s thesis was exposure—hip bones and hemlines as post-lockdown spectacle, Y2K nostalgia framed as liberation-lite. The apron, ironically, covers. Where the micro-mini trafficked in the optics of freedom (and the speed of virality), the apron asks about the conditions that make freedom possible: who launders, who cooks, who cares? To move from “look at me” to “who is working here?” is a pivot from optics to ethics, without abandoning desire. (The aprons are, after all, deeply covetable.) In a platform economy that still rewards the shortest hemline with the biggest click-through, this is a sophisticated counter-program.Yet the designer is not romanticizing toil. There’s wit in the ruffles and perversity in the crystals; neither negate labor, they metabolize it. The most striking image is the apron treated as couture-adjacent. Traditionally, an apron protects the precious thing beneath; here, the apron is the precious thing. You could call that hypocrisy—luxurizing the uniform of workers. Or, strategy, insisting that the symbols of care and effort deserve visibility and investment.Of course, none of this exists in a vacuum. The “tradwife” script thrives because it is aesthetically legible and commercially scalable. It packages gender ideology as moodboard. Miu Miu counters with garments whose legibility flickers. The collection’s best looks ask viewers to reconcile tenderness with toughness, convenience with care, which is exactly the mental choreography demanded of women in every context from office to home to online.If you wanted a season-defining “It” item, you’ll still find it. The apron is poised to proliferate across fast-fashion and luxury alike. But the deeper success is structural: Miu Miu re-centered labor as an aesthetic category. That’s rarer than a viral skirt. It’s a reminder that clothes don’t merely decorate life, they describe and negotiate it. In making the apron the subject rather than the prop, Prada turned a garment of service into a platform for agency. It’s precisely the kind of cultural recursion you’d expect from a designer shaped by feminist politics, who never stopped treating fashion as an instrument of thought as much as style.The last image to hold onto is deceptively simple: a woman in an apron, neither fetishized nor infantilized, striding, hands free. Not a costume for nostalgia, not a meme for the feed, but a working uniform reframed, respected, and suddenly, undeniably beautiful. That is Miu Miu’s provocation for Spring 2026: the work behind the work, made visible at last."
}
]
}