Financial Accounting Tools for Business Decision Making 8th Edition Test Bank
Kimmel Weygandt Kieso
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Financial Accounting Tools for Business Decision Making 8th Edition Test
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Accounting Tools for Business Decision Making 8th Edition by Paul D.
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Decision Making 8th Edition by Kimmel Weygandt Kieso
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Starting with the big picture of financial statements first, Paul Kimmel’s Financial,
8th Edition, shows students why financial accounting is important to their
everyday lives, business majors, and future careers. This best-selling financial
accounting program is known for a student-friendly writing style, visual pedagogy,
the most relevant and easy to understand examples, and teaching the accounting
cycle through the lens of one consistent story of Sierra Corp, an outdoor adventure
company.
The first indication to Lt. Dan Stout that law enforcement’s handling of white
supremacy was broken came in September 2017, as he was sitting in an
emergency-operations center in Gainesville, Fla., preparing for the onslaught of
Hurricane Irma and watching what felt like his thousandth YouTube video of the
recent violence in Charlottesville, Va. Jesus Christ, he thought, studying the
footage in which crowds of angry men, who had gathered to attend or protest the
Unite the Right rally, set upon one another with sticks and flagpole spears and
flame throwers and God knows what else. A black man held an aerosol can,
igniting the spray, and in retaliation, a white man picked up his gun, pointed it
toward the black man and fired it at the ground. The Virginia state troopers,
inexplicably, stood by and watched. Stout fixated on this image, wondering what
kind of organizational failure had led to the debacle. He had one month to ensure
that the same thing didn’t happen in Gainesville.
Before that August, Stout, a 24-year veteran of the Gainesville police force, had
never heard of Richard Spencer and knew next to nothing about his self-declared
alt-right movement, or of their “anti–fascist” archnemesis known as Antifa. Then,
on the Monday after deadly violence in Charlottesville, in which a protester was
killed when a driver plowed his car into the crowd, Stout learned to his horror that
Spencer was planning a speech at the University of Florida. He spent weeks
frantically trying to get up to speed, scouring far-right and anti-fascist websites and
videos, each click driving him further into despair. Aside from the few white
nationalists who had been identified by the media or on Twitter, Stout had no clue
who most of these people were, and neither, it seemed, did anyone else in law
enforcement.
There were no current intelligence reports he could find on the alt-right, the
sometimes-violent fringe movement that embraces white nationalism and a range
of racist positions. The state police couldn’t offer much insight. Things were
equally bleak at the federal level. Whatever the F.B.I. knew (which wasn’t a lot,
Stout suspected), they weren’t sharing. The Department of Homeland Security,
which produced regular intelligence and threat assessments for local law
enforcement, had only scant material on white supremacists, all of it vague and
ultimately not much help. Local politicians, including the governor, were also in
the dark. This is like a Bermuda Triangle of intelligence, Stout thought,
incredulous. He reached out to their state partners. “So you’re telling us that there’s
nothing? No names we can plug into the automatic license-plate readers? No
players with a propensity for violence? No one you have in the system? Nothing?’’
One of those coming to Gainesville was William Fears, a 31-year-old from
Houston. Fears, who online went by variations of the handle Antagonizer, was one
of the most dedicated foot soldiers of the alt-right. Countless YouTube videos had
captured his progress over the past year as he made his way from protest to protest
across several states, flinging Nazi salutes, setting off smoke bombs and, from time
to time, attacking people. Fears was also a felon. He had spent six years in prison
for aggravated kidnapping in a case involving his ex-girlfriend, and now he had an
active warrant for his arrest, after his new girlfriend accused him of assault less
than two weeks earlier. On Oct. 18, the night before the event, Fears and a few
others from Houston’s white-nationalist scene got in Fears’s silver Jeep Patriot for
the 14-hour drive. Fears’s friend Tyler TenBrink, who pleaded guilty to assault in
2014, posted video from their trip on his Facebook page. There were four men, two
of them felons, and two nine-millimeter handguns. “Texans always carry,” Fears
said later.
Continue reading the main story
Gainesville would be Spencer’s first major public appearance since the violence of
the Unite the Right rally two months before, and the city, a progressive enclave in
the heart of deep-red north Florida, was on edge. Anticipating chaos, Gov. Rick
Scott declared a state of emergency — prompting Spencer to tweet out an image of
his head making its way across the Atlantic toward Florida: “Hurricane Spencer.”
A few days before the event, the Florida Department of Law Enforcement sent out
a small, bound “threat book” of about 20 or so figures, most of them openly
affiliated with Spencer or with anti-fascist groups, which Stout knew from his own
research meant they weren’t the people to worry about. Anonymous online chatter
on sites like 4chan, meanwhile, described armed right-wing militants coming to
Gainesville to test Florida’s Stand Your Ground law. Stout envisioned 20 white
supremacists with long guns. We’re screwed, he thought.
Continue reading the main story
Photo
The “alt–right” leader Richard Spencer speaking at the University of Florida in
Gainesville on Oct. 19, 2017. Credit Mark Peterson/Redux
By the morning of Oct. 19, a fortress of security, costing the University of Florida
and police forces roughly half a million dollars, had been built around the western
edge of the 2,000-acre campus and the Phillips Center for the Performing Arts,
where Spencer and his entourage arrived that afternoon. More than 1,100 state
troopers and local cops stood on alert, with another 500 on standby. There were
officers posted on rooftops. Police helicopters buzzed the skies. The Florida
National Guard had been activated off-site, and a line of armored vehicles sat in
reserve. Hundreds of journalists from around the United States and abroad were in
attendance, anticipating another Charlottesville.
Some 2,500 protesters had descended on the small area cordoned off for the event,
where they confronted a handful of white supremacists, most of them Spencer
groupies like Fears and his friends. “Basically, I’m just fed up with the fact that
I’m cisgendered, I’m a white male and I lean right, toward the Republican side,
and I get demonized,” Colton Fears, Will’s 28-year-old brother, who was wearing
an SS pin, told HuffPost. TenBrink, also 28, told The Washington Post that he had
come to support Spencer because after Charlottesville, where he was seen and
photographed, he had been threatened by the “radical left.” He seemed agitated by
the thousands of protesters. “This is a mess,” he told The Gainesville Sun. “It
appears that the only answer left is violence, and nobody wants that.”
