#American prayer rug

[ceylonsilvergirl]

[blackcat419]

How different cultures in ASOIAF view cats pt. 1

In our world, culture and religion shape how we view animals, and for this post, specifically cats. An example of how cats a view differently in cultures can be seen in Islamic cultures and Romani Cultures. Because cats clean themselves often, they are viewed as clean by Muslims and can be kept with the family. But for Romani, because of the Marime which states that the genital region is a source of impurity, a cat licking its own lower regions this becomes unclean. Roma still keep pets but they generally don’t let them sleep in their bed or lick them. This is all contrasted by American culture where a pet is viewed as a member of the family and will be referred to as the baby or child of their owners and is allowed to sleep in bed with them.

It’s so interesting and I want to expand this to how Westerosi people see cats and what types of cats they keep.

Dorne

Dorne takes a lot of inspiration from the Arabic would and I think it only makes sense for them to have a similar view of cats.

Cats keeping themselves clean makes them the perfect pets for humans. Cats are also known to pray to the seven if given a seat in a sept (cats love prayer rugs and it’s really cute). Both religious and hygienic, cats are viewed as more sophisticated than other animals and thus are kept closer by their families.

The salty Dornish are best known for their love of cats with many ancient breeds residing in their homes. The green orphans will sail with a cat or two and give them a fish from the days haul. Cats are also seen as omens of good fortune and many shops have a resident cat. Septa also keep cats control pests and because they will sleep at the feet of the seven when their statue is warm. The Turkish Van and Turkish Angora are both old and rare breeds of cats that would flourish in Dorne.

The Sandy Dornish also enjoy cats. Because cats naturally retain more water than dogs, they are fitted to live in the desert. These cats are some of the more wild ones as it’s common for the domestic cat to mix is wild cats. During harsh sandstorms, the Dornish will wrap the cats up in a blanket to protect them from the elements. Cats are known to love this and scene request it when their is no sand storm. The Savannah cat is a cross between wild Serval and a domestic short hair cat.

The stony Dornish are less attached to cats than the Sandy or salty Dornish. Every house hold does have a cat and it’s common for cats to sleep in the room of their favorite person, but the stony Dornish believe that cats have some impurity to them because they lick their own genitals. Families will often perform a cleaning ritual on their cats by wiping them down with a wet cloth to cleanse them of impurity. Cats in stony Dorne are slender and very angular, making them great at slipping through stony hills and along steep walls. The Cornish Rex and Devon Rex are popular cat breeds.

The Iron Islands

Cats were a big part of Scandinavian culture. The goddess Freya had her chariot pulled by Norwegian Forest cats (also called fairy cats) and it was custom for a groom to give his bride a kitten as a wedding gift. For Vikings specifically, cats were kept to control the pests on ship.

Because the Iron Islands is more based on mythical Viking culture than historical Scandinavian culture, we can have some fun with the cats.

Ships are a big part of the iron islands culture, so each ship should have a cat or two. Perhaps to “bless” a ship before it sets off, a kitten is brought into the ship and makes it their own. I also see the Ironman have a very communal ownership of the cats. Fisherman will give the cats some of their catch as part of a good luck ceremony and people will set up small cat houses for them. They could also view a cat staying with you as a sign of good luck. But because of Thai communal ownership, it would probably be taboo to try and keep a cat to yourself. The iron islanders see a cat as not belonging to a person but to a ship or island.

Types of cats I think the iron islanders would have. Because they’re kind of weird, I think some weird breeds would fit. The Selkirk Rex is known for playing in water, being loyal to their human, and also have some curly fur!

The Andal Kingdoms

The Andals had a similar relationship to cats that Europeans had before the Black Death. For the Andals, cats were viewed as mainly pest control for their farms and cities. People rarely tries to socialize kittens when born which led to people believing cats were naturally aggressive.

It wasn’t until Maesters discovered that cats help prevent the spread of disease by killing rats that cats became a more popular household animal.

The reach was the first kingdom to become very found of the cat. They were perfect help for their farms and perfect pest control for old town. Old Town holds a celebration of cats each year to thank them for preventing extreme disease outbreaks from happening in the city. The Redwyne family is famous for breeding Persians cats that resemble the pugs they breed with short faces. Rich families have a few Persian cats that they dress up as little lords and ladies as an extra show of wealth.

In the storm lands and riverlands, cats are seen as antithetical to the land. The kingdom’s natural wetness drives cats away. Fisherman are often at odds with local cat populations as they fight over fish. Despite the general population’s disinterest in cats, they are a common staple at inns and bars as they keep rats away from the straw and wheat. Patrons consider seeing a cat with folded ears as a lucky charm that their stay at the inn will be a pleasant one.

I reached the max amount of photos for this post so we will continue with westerlands, the vale, north, beyond the wall, and valyrians!

[inbabylontheywept]

On Palestine

The Israel-Palestine conflict is not complicated. People will try to make it look complicated in the hopes that you will be intimidated and back away without study, but the truth is simple and can be presented simply.

Israel has full control over Palestine's borders - and among the list of things they've banned from import is rebar, concrete, water pipe, and a significant number of consumer electronics.

They say it's because these things can be used for war. They can. But so can rations, clean water, clothes, and air. Banning these is not a military action - it is cruelty. And in the case of Israel, the goal is to make destruction a one way ratchet. Every building that is bombed, every road that breaks, every pipe that bursts - they cannot be fixed. Palestine cannot get better. It can only rot. And when it does not rot fast enough, it is broken.

The people of Palestine know this. It's obvious. If you as an American don't talk about it, you'll get Ben Shapiro and his ilk all but bragging about it.

If you do talk about it, they'll accuse you of conspiracy. Demand to see credible sources - hoping that you'll forget that foreign journalists are illegal in Palestine as concrete, rebar, and water pipes.

I will not justify the crimes of Hamas. What they have done is unforgivable. But something like Hamas only happens when goading an entire civilization into becoming their worst selves. By condemning them to death by decay, then pointing and laughing. By cruelties beyond imagination.

Imagine being in this situation. Imagine that your water is not clean because a bomb hit your street twenty years and cracked both your sewage line and your water main. Now they leak and mingle. It stinks and you smell it. You see a hospital bombed, and the tragedy isn't just the people in the building - It's the fact that you can't build another. It's just gone. Everything that is taken from you is just gone. And as if that wasn't enough, your tormentors laugh at you. Mock you. Call you a savage that likes to like in open sewage. Call you an idiot that doesn't know how to build hospitals. Call you a zealot for the rage you feel when they shit on your prayer rug. A liar, because every crime you report remains unconfirmed, even as they lock the people who could confirm it out.

It would be very tempting to become a monster. And Israel banks on that too. They want more members in Hamas. It was Israel that raised the organization to such heights. And they did so because it justifies everything they do. Its mere presence in the region does wonders in delegitimizing the dream of a Palestinian state. Its violence is what gives Israel the thin veneer self defense. Hamas gets more members every time Israel drops a bomb, but Israel claims it needs more bombs to deal with the rise of Hamas. This cycle is not an accident. And with self reported casualty ratios of 2 civilians per 1 combatant, all Israel is really waiting for is 1/3 of the region to join. (Although human rights orgs have said the ratio is more like to 9 to 1.)

The world has spent decades watching a slow motion genocide. Now, it's not even slow. There are many things you can do to help Palestine, but the cheapest, easiest, and most effective actions are political. One man spending a day making bombs can undo the work of a hundred men spending a year laying brick. If all you do is keep track of the Zionists and make sure not to vote for them, you'll have done more than enough.

(And thanks for reading.)

[quill-pen]

Bless This Woman

So, @rom-e-o presented me, out of the blue and in the middle of the night, with this gorgeous piece of fan art😍😍😍:

And it inspired a wholesome and sweet little ficlet, surprise, surprise.

Btw: Yes, my Ebenezer grows his hair out long, if this is the first encounter with my work you've had. Also, in future, I plan to try and publish my Scrooge story, and Romey and I are kind of in cahoots with that; so we are trying out some slightly different character designs for Scrooge. That Netflix look is so specific, that I don't want to risk getting sued. This hairstyle is one we've decided on for him, as opposed to his lovely swoop.

It was a request Ebenezer had never been asked before; one he never thought to encounter. He wasn't what anyone would particularly call a "praying man", even now after he'd turned his life around for the good. But he'd be damned if he wouldn't become one: Because how could he possibly deny a woman as sweet and lovely as his Bess when she shyly asked him if he would pray over her that night before bed?

"Pray over you?" Ebenezer asked. Not in a condescending way, but certainly in a slightly confused way. He'd never heard that phrase for it before. Praying for someone, yes, but over someone? That was new to him.

Bess stood before him in her gauzy summer nightgown, the neckline slipped tantalizingly down to expose one speckled shoulder. She looked a little embarrassed, a slightly rosy tint in her cheeks making her freckles pop sharply--something her husband adored. "I-I know it sounds silly," she commented with a small, beseeching smile. She ducked her head and lowered her gaze in instinctive supplication, as her hands fiddling together at her waist. "But it's... it's something George used to do with Mama every night when he was home and... well... it's kind of something I've always hoped the man I love would do for me, too."

She looked back up at him, trying to judge his reaction to it. "Y-You don't have to if you don't want to," she assured him in a bit of a rush. "I just thought I'd ask. Doesn't hurt to ask, right?" She bit her bottom lip, hoping she hadn't just made herself look foolish in her husband's eyes.

She hadn't. And as far as Ebenezer was concerned, she never could.

Smiling softly at the woman, the Englishman stood from his seat beside the small fire, closing and placing his journal upon the mantelshelf as he did. Then he approached his wife, opening his arms to her. "It doesn't sound silly," he murmured softly, taking her into his embrace. He snuggled the American close, nuzzling into her thick, inky curls and kissing her crown. A satisfied purr nearly rumbled from his chest as Bess folded him into her arms and snuffled into the soft fabric of his nightshirt over his heart. "And, no, it never hurts to ask. I'd be happy to pray over you."

Bess looked up at him, eyes sparkling with happiness? "You would?" she asked, sounding rather relieved. "Truly?"

Her husband nodded as he kissed her hairline. "Of course." He touched his brow to hers and gave her a sheepish smile. "You might have to tell me how," he muttered. "I've never prayed over someone. Come to think, I can't recall when I last prayed for someone either. Not really. Not like you would in church."

Bess giggled as she nudged her nose along his. "This isn't exactly like that," she assured him. "It's not a big production full of show-boating piety the Bishop likes to make. This is more genuine and from the heart."

"I'm not even sure I know how to pray, to tell you the truth."

"George always told me that prayer is just talking to God. And the best way to talk to God is to talk to him as though He were a good friend."

He knew that was true. Still, Ebenezer felt a little out of his depth as he watched his beloved sink to her knees on the plush rug beneath their bed. Regardless, he knelt beside her. "H-How did George used to do this?"

Snorting, Bess gently pulled out of Ebenezer's embrace. She grabbed his hand and pulled him after her as she moved towards their marital bed. "Don't worry, I won't judge," she stated with a smirk and wink over her shoulder.

"I only caught him doing it a few times," Bess answered as she scooted into the man's side, ever desiring to be close as possible. She manages to twine her legs and feet with his. "But the few times I did, he always had his hands on Mama. On her shoulders, around her waist, hugging her--he was always touching her."

"Well, I certainly like the sound of that," Ebenezer remarked. Without a moment's hesitation, he stretched an arm across his wife's shoulders and pulled her close again. He pressed his lips to her brow. "Mmm, I love you," he murmured, the sentiment leaving him automatically.

Bess hummed as she leaned into his touch. "That love you feel--let that be what guides what you say," she quietly instructed.

In many ways, that didn't give Ebenezer a clue as to what to do at all. Yet in many others, it did.

The couple knelt there at their bedside in silence for a moment, the man absently stroking the woman's arms as she pressed into him. His mind, for a moment, felt like a wheel stuck in muddy clay. What should he say? How should he begin? He supposed the best way was just to start.

"Dear Lord, first and foremost, I would like to thank You for the wonderful woman beside me. I'm... not always certain what my convictions are in terms of faith and religion; one thing I do believe with certainty, however, is that You have placed my wonderful Bess beside me."

Bess dared to open her eyes and lift her gaze just enough to see her husband's down-turned face just above hers. She smiled in adoration at the man, marking how his long eyelashes brushed his cheekbones. Somehow, she managed to press a little closer to the man, nudging her head under his chin.

Ebenezer tightened his grip on her. "I come to You now, to pray for my Bess, Lord," he continued on, voice quiet but steady. He still didn't really know what he was doing, but that didn't seem to matter: He was focusing on his adoration for his wife, letting that guide him through what he wanted to say, and it was doing the trick. He was feeling much more confident in every passing moment. And, amazingly enough, even more in love with his mate.

"I pray that You watch over my beloved Bess, Lord. That you take her into Your arms and keep her safe throughout her life. I pray, if she can't find comfort and happiness in this world, that she is able to find it in You. I place her ultimate well-being in You, Lord, for I know there are things that I, as a mere man, cannot do to protect and comfort her."

Bess pressed her face into the open neck of Ebenezer's nightshirt and nuzzled at the hairy swathe of chest bared to her. On instinct she fluttered kisses to over sternum. "Oh, Darling...."

A slight heat bloomed across Ebenezer's face, but he didn't falter. "I ask You to continue to bless this woman with goodness you have granted to be in her life, Lord. And should it ever come to an end, I repay You grant her the strength to overcome challenges, just as You have granted her before. I ask You to continue healing and soothing the wounds and scars of Bess' past, and that You might bring her to realize that she is so much more than them--that they do not define her. I pray that she continues to discover herself in You, oh, Lord, and that she might draw great satisfaction and peace from that.

A lump suddenly formed in the man's throat and tears bit at his closed eyes. "I also pray that-" he cleared his throat as it croaked, "-that You might allow my lovely Bess to remain in my life, Lord. To remain by my side and help me continue to bear the burden of life. She is my greatest strength, my greatest happiness, my Brightness. And I ask with all my heart and soul that she might remain so, Lord. I promise to strive each day to be a better man, to be stronger and more virtuous, and to make this world a better, kinder place if You might allow Bess to remain in my life. I promise to cherish her with my entire being and do my best to care for her and make her happy all the days of my life."

Bess felt something warm and wet drip onto her cheek. Looking up again, she saw a single trickle of tears dripping down Ebenezer's cheek. Moved to wet eyes herself at the sight (her kind, sweet, tenderhearted man), the Yank reached up and gently dried them away. Then she kissed his stubbly chin. "Amen," she whispered. "That was beautiful. Thank you, my dearest moonlight."

Ebenezer gazed down at her with a trembling chuckle. "Not as beautiful at George's though, yes?" he rasped, looking a little shy.

Bess shook her head with a doting smile. "Better," she answered honestly. "Because it's my prayer. And it came from you and your heart. And I'll cherish it and carry it with me, until the day I die."

Genuine relief flooded through the gentleman. Bowing his head, he lifted a hand to his love's face and held her tenderly as he pulled her into a lingering kiss, one she eagerly returned.

"I'll do this again every night if you'll, please, just stay with me forever, Bess," Ebenezer whispered against her lips. His eyes were beseeching as he gazed deeply into hers. "Please."

Bess couldn't help the little smile that curled her lips, nor the little chuckle that left her in response to that promise. "Well, then, you're about to become a praying man, Ebenezer Charles. Because, while I can't speak for our Heavenly Father, I have no intentions of leaving your side. Not ever. Now, please, kiss me again."

And her husband, ever faithful and giving, did just that.

[god-blog]

Ok, idea that I'm really excited about

Everyone is always talking abt an in-person temple for pagans but what if instead of a temple-temple, there was a museum-temple?

Hear me out bc I think this would be really cool.

Things the temple-museum would have:

Permanent exhibits including:

Outside land art similar to Sun Tunnels by Nancy Holt that line up with the solstices/constellations

Inside sky art for meditating similar to Skyspace by James Turrell (PLS look this one up, it's so pretty. The picture in the article doesn't do it justice)

A wall of prayers/manifestations/affirmations. Visitors write them on a post it or note card and pin it to the wall to make a collaborative exhibition like Post Secret at the Museum of Us

A small gallery with general overviews of popular pagan pantheons: Hellenic, Celtic, etc. This will include artifacts from those time periods either depicting the deities or how people worshiped them

A small gallery with historical witchcraft artifacts. This will include medieval European poppets, Copic love spell manuscripts, Chinese oracle bones, etc.

Rotating temporary exhibits including:

Witch trials from around the world (1400-present, bc they do still happen)

Paleolithic cultures: Venus of Wellendorf, Stonehenge, Cave paintings/music, the Lion-man ivory, etc

Did Christianity Steal From Paganism: yes… no… it’s complicated (basically the overlap between early Christianity and Roman paganism) This will include villa mosaics, sarcophaguses, layouts of early churches, etc

The Rise of Modern Occultism: Hilma af Klint, Carl Jung, surrealism, spiritualism, Wicca, etc

A series of exhibits celebrating closed practices: different indigenous religions, Voodoo, Hoodoo, etc (Very important: these will not be teaching those crafts, just giving them the same public platform/attention as open practices. Key word here is "celebrating." People who practice in those closed communities will be consulted)

How paganism is incorporated into Abrahamic religions: Judaism and paganism, Catholicism and paganism, etc (People who practice in those communities will be consulted)

Modern witchcraft, good or bad? So that would be New Age, the rise of consumerism, witchtok, etc

More in-depth focuses on different pantheons: Celtic, Slavic, Mesopotamian, Hellenic, etc

Historical witchcraft accusations and race: Mary Lewis, the New York City Panic of 1741, Ann Glover, etc

Regular people's (like you!) devotional art. The public will be encouraged to donate/create devotional art pieces. Be that visual media, performance art, video art, music, sculpture, photography, writing, etc. It'll really highlight all the different ways people are worshiping, the diversity in deities being worshiped, and how big our community is

An auditorium. This would be for concerts, festivals/ceremonies that are done inside, and guest speakers. Guest speakers would include academics like Malcolm Gaskill (English historian and author), Katherine Howe (American author), etc. as well as big name practicing witches/pagans.

A garden. I haven’t decided yet what kind but I’m debating between a rooftop garden like the MET, one behind the building but open to visitors, or an atrium like medieval European cloisters/monasteries (bc I love those). The garden would be for meditating, connecting to nature/the gods, feeding pollinators, protecting "creepy" insects like spiders or burrowing bugs (bug hotel?), and potentially -depending on what type of garden it is- housing wild birds in bird houses or bats in bat boxes. Also, it could be a good place for festivals/ceremonies that are done outside, concerts, or general get-togethers like altar piece swaps!

And an altar/worship space. Obviously. It wouldn't be a temple without it. I'm thinking it would be mostly a big empty room with chairs and rugs scattered about and an alcove in one wall for the altar. Inside the alcove will mostly be nonspecific religious objects like candles, nice fabrics, flowers, incense, etc . Visitors will be encouraged to bring their own small personal devotional tools (except candles/incense for fire safety reasons). That way they can pray to, appreciate, and connect to their own gods and the main altar doesn't leave anybody out; the main altar is more for ambience than specific worship.

Giftshop? I'm not sure about this one yet bc it feels wrong to have a gift shop in a temple, but most museums, even small ones, have gift shops. It could have fresh herbs from the garden, candles, and local artists' art like prints, stickers, jewelry, etc. All at a reasonable price ofc (I hate overpriced museum giftshops more than anything else in the world... except overpriced museum tickets)

In terms of funding, museums get more government funding than churches, but they do have to pay taxes churches don't. I was thinking of generally modeling it after the Museum of Us in San Deigo; they let their employees pick the holidays they take off so they can each adhere to their personal religious practice, start paying them at $22 an hour with built in raises each year, and good insurance. They have done an amazing job, way better than any big museum, at collaborating with communities from all over the world to either give back artifacts in their collections or closely work with them to reframe how the artifact is presented/stored. They also don't charge for tickets, memberships, school trips, or basically anything except the giftshop. But that means they rely heavily on donations which may not work as well for a museum that's just starting out. Idk, this is all hypothetical rn.

The pillars the museum-temple would stand on are worship, education, and community.

I feel like teaching people about the history of these practices is super important and isn't smth that everybody bothers to learn or has correct information about. (And I'm a huge history/museum nerd if you can't tell lol)

I'm actually really excited about this lol

[meraki-yao]

RWRB Quotes that speak to me on this really fucking shitty day

Hey, have I told you lately that you're brave? I still remember what you said to that little girl in the hospital about Luke Skywalker:"He's proof that it doesn't matter where you come from or who your family is." Sweetheart, you're proof too.

It is, indeed, bullshit. It's all I can do not to pack a bag and be gone forever. Perhaps I could live in your room like a recluse. You could have food sent up for me, and I'll be lurking in disguise in a shadowy corner when you answer the door. It'll all be very dreadfully Jane Eyre

I'm afraid, though, I'm stuck here. Gran keeps asking Mum when I'm going to enlist, and did I know Philip had already served a year by the time he was my age. I do need to figure out what I'm going to do, because I'm certainly closing in on the end of what's an acceptable amount of time for a gap year. Please do keep me in your- what is it American politicians say?-thoughts and prayers

It drives me nuts sometimes that you don't get to have more say in your life. When I picture you happy, I see you with your own apartment somewhere outside of the palace and a desk where you can write anthologies of queer history. And I'm there, using up your shampoo and making you come to the grocery store with me and waking up in the same damn time zone with you every morning.

Have you ever had something go so horribly, horribly, unbelievably badly that you'd like to be loaded into a cannon and jettisoned into the merciless black maw of outer space?

I wonder sometimes what is the point of me, or anything. I should have just packed a bag like I said. I could be in your bed, languishing away until I perish, fat and sexually conquered, snuffed out in the spring of my youth. Here lies Prince Henry of Wales. He died as he lived: avoiding plans and sucking cock.

Specifically, we were discussing enlistment, Philip and Shaan and I, and I told Philip I'd rather not follow the traditional path and that I hardly think I'd be useful to anyone in the military. He asked why I was so intent on disrespecting the traditions of the men of this family, and I truly think I dissociated straight (ha) out of the conversation, because I opened my blasted mouth and said, "Because I'm not like the rest of the men of this family, beginning with the fact that I am very deeply gay, Philip."

Once Shaan managed to dislodge him from the chandelier, Philip had quite a few words for me, some of which were "confused or misguided" and "ensuring the perpetuity of the bloodline" and "respecting the legacy." Honestly, I don't recall much of it. Essentially, I gathered that he was not surprised to discover I am not the heterosexual heir I'm supposed to be, but rather surprised that I do not intend to keep pretending to be the heterosexual heir I'm supposed to be.

Sometimes I imagine moving to New York to take over launching Pez's youth shelter there. Just leaving. Not coming back. Maybe burning something down on the way out. It would be nice.

9. How hard you try

10. How hard you've always tried.

11. How determined you are to keep trying.

give yourself away sometimes, sweetheart. there's so much of you.

They all turn to look at him, and Alex feels a wave of something so much bigger than himself sweep over him, like when he was a child standing bowlegged in the Gulf of Mexico, rip-tide sucking at his feet. A sound escapes his throat uninvited, something that he barely even recognizes, and June has him first, then the rest of them, arms and arms and hands and hands, pulling him close and touching his face and moving him until he's on the floor, the goddamn terrible hideous antique rug that he hates, sitting on the floor and staring at the rug and the threads of the rug and hearing the Gulf rushing in his ears and thinking distantly that he's having a panic attack, and that's why he can't breathe, but he's just staring at the rug and he's having a panic attack and knowing why his lungs won't work doesn't make them work again.

He's faintly aware of being shifted into his room, to his bed, which is still covered in the godforsaken fucking newspapers, and someone guides him onto it, and he sits down and tries very, very hard to make a list in his head.

One.

One.

One

Once upon a time, there was a young Prince, who was born in a castle. And there had never been a prince quite like him: he was born with his heart on the outside of his body.

Whereas the other princes and noble children could withstand the slings and arrows of childhood, the Prince felt everything acutely. Everything seemed to touch and threaten his unprotected heart.

Oh for Christ sake Alex, for once! I wish you could see me for who I am and not who you want me to be! Sometimes, I don't think you know me at all!

I wasn't raised by a loving, supportive family like you were!

Nothing will ever happen to you.

I don't want your protection, I want your support.

[onetruesirius]

I sit here and I watch the news about Gaza

and I think

shit, I need to get back to work;

it's toxic to just fixate on the news,

It's bad for my mental health.

I can't be irresponsible to myself

I have class in the morning.

I have exams next week...

But how can I turn a blind eye?

How can I not care

that nine thousand Gazan children are dead,

that the Israeli Occupation Force has dropped the equivalent of an atomic bomb

on a space about the size of the New York City metropolis,

that an episcopal church was bombed—

it was one of the oldest churches in the world,

that one of the oldest mosques in the region was destroyed

that hospitals are being shelled with doctors and patients still within,

that men are carrying pieces of their dead children out of houses in plastic grocery bags because there's no other way to carry that many pieces in their hands,

that over a million people were told to evacuate on bombed-out roads,

and then they were shot and bombed with USAmerican white phosphorus when trying to leave?

Do you know what white phosphorus does to a human body?????

Please google it.

And if you "don't want to see something like that"

Oh,

I want you to google it even more now.

just to be appropriately horrified.

How can I not see that the Israeli government doesn't see Palestinian people [THEIR people if we're going by statehood metrics, who were on that land when the BRITISH GOVERNMENT decided to make the state] as human beings,

that they'd do anything to slaughter Palestinians under the cover of radio silence so the world turns away?

And that men wail from minarets—

not to call their flock to holy prayer but

to speak messages of hope that god will save them,

to attempt to reach the outside world, when the information reaches the people at the edge of the strip, who have international SIM cards and can get the word out,

and to deliver news of where the bombs fall so that paramedics can know where to dig more bodies out—the bodies that aren't a bloody slurry sprayed across the streets and walls, anyways.

And that journalists are being executed en masse to hide the story.

And that men are being stripped naken and forced to sit on the ground for hours at a time, just like in Nazi Germany.

And I can't forget the fact that the United States, MY NATION, voted AGAINST a UN call for a ceasefire...

TWICE.

And that construction companies are already tearing down the old apartments to make room for new living arrangements for the colonisers, before the old buildings even stop burning.

And that settlers are coming into these abandoned homes and looting food and jewelry and desecrating prayer rugs.

And it isn't the fault of Jewish people.

I know that.

Jewish people deserve a place to be safe and free, wherever they are...

But this fact likewise does not require the creation of an ethnostate.

The implication that the only way for Jewish people to be safe is to kill everyone else... is it not in itself antisemitic?

I'm scared for the Palestinian people, and also for my Jewish diaspora friends.

They hate what's going on just as much as I do,

but they're going to get blamed by well-meaning Palestine supporters.

I know they will.

They know they will.

We all know that they will.

Another wave of antisemitism.

Another wave of islamophobia.

Another wave of killings.

Another wave of ethnic cleansing.

On it goes.

A little boy was already killed by his mother's racist landlord in Chicago. Stabbed 26 times.

Three college students were attacked and one was maimed for life.

Attacks against synagogues here in the US have only increased. Two people were shot, allegedly for a Free Palestine...

But we all know that the neonazis have been using this mess to stir the pot against Jewish people and boost their recruitment.

The Palestinian 2023/24 school year has been officially canceled going forward.

Because the enrolled students are dead or missing.

Because they were bombed with American ground-to-ground missiles.

We all know the missiles are American in origin.

Russia has its own genocide to attend to, and China doesn't care enough to give arms to anyone. And we know it's American White Phosphorus.

All the while, war profiteers in my nation get richer and richer,

richer and richer and richer,

and richer and richer and richer and richer and richer and richer—

and they'll laugh like the evil FUCKING pricks that they are

when Gaza gets bombed,

and they'll laugh like the evil FUCKING pricks that they are

when Jewish people get attacked in the streets,

because every act of violence

and every sentiment of hated

fills their pockets with more and more and more US-AMERICAN DOLLARS and GUNS and BOMBINGS and SHOOTINGS and HATRED and GOD BLESS AMERICA—

or something like that

.

.

.

I've signed petitions.

I've signed so many I've lost track of the ones I've signed and the ones I haven't, the ones for other countries that I can repost but can't sign or they might get tossed out.

I've donated money to relief organizations for when the borders re-open, because I'm an optimistic bastard like that.

I've sent emails.

I've sent... so many emails.

I've called all my Representatives in Congress.

I've spread news to as many of my friends as I can without them blocking me.

And still Gaza burns.

And still children are slaughtered, even during the fake ceasefire.

And still I have exams next week.

And still I think about how I really shouldn't fixate on this, because it affects my mood.

and it's been impacting my performance at school.

and it's been undoing months of work I've done with my therapist to try and disconnect from current events.

And still I think about how

"the current events"

rain down like hellfire on innocent mothers of dead children,

and children of dead mothers,

and sisters of dead brothers,

and brothers of dead sisters,

and fathers of dead babies,

and babies of dead fathers,

and teachers of dead students,

and students of dead teachers,

and churches and pastors,

and mosques and imams,

and hospitals and doctors,

and synagogues and rabbis,

and the fucking relief trucks that were filled with food and water.

And here I sit, and I don't know what to do about it????

And I wonder if this is all the point?

To make things worse and worse and worse and worse so that people are so unbearably exhausted from just trying to do the right thing

that they can't take care of themselves?

That they can't achieve upwards mobility?

That they can't make any difference at all for the things that matter most to them?

but I'm just one monkey...

one monkey can't solve systemic problems

that are baked into the roots of our society.

It's a first world problem, for sure. I have the privilege to be able to unplug from this and rest in my bed and not get bombed.

But I just want to make things better, for everyone...

I know that I can't do that.

But I wish I could

Oh, god—

I wish I could.

But I guess I'll just go to sleep.

After all

I have class in the morning.

[abwwia]

Susan Schapira, Prayer Rug II: Love Mercy, ca. 1995, machine pieced, reverse appliqued, machine quilted and hand-dyed cotton, 45 1⁄4 x 43 in. (114.9 x 109.2 cm), Smithsonian American Art Museum, Gift of the artist, 1998.71.2, © 1995, Susan Schapira

[rederiswrites]

The real American country experience is going to the meat processor and they sell jerky supplies, skulls, and prayer rugs, and then the African family out front tries very determinedly to buy some of your chickens.

[loneberry]

Palestinian poet Mosab Abu Toha was kidnapped by the IDF, along with 200 other Palestinians, while trying to cross the Rafah border with his family. According to a source he was beaten, interrogated, and is currently receiving medical care. He was a Harvard Scholar at Risk and was published by my friend's Harvard Divinity School literary journal Peripheries, where he edited a folio on Poems from Gaza. Apparently it was his connection to Harvard that helped secure his release. I'm relieved that he's been released and that the mobilization of poets helped, but it's so fucking depressing that it depended in part on a connection to elite American cultural spaces. How many Palestinians are buried beneath the rubble in Gaza, completely unknown to our complicit country?

We pray for Mosab Abu Toha's recovery and grieve all of those whose lives have been lost or destroyed in Gaza. We remember Abu Toha's house and recite his beautiful words.

What Is Home? Mosab Abu Toha

What is home:

it is the shade of trees on my way to school before they were uprooted.

It is my grandparents’ black-and-white wedding photo before the walls crumbled.

It is my uncle’s prayer rug, where dozens of ants slept on wintry nights, before it was looted and put in a museum.

It is the oven my mother used to bake bread and roast chicken before a bomb reduced our house to ashes.

It is the café where I watched football matches and played –

My child stops me: Can a four-letter word hold all of these?

[makethatelevenrings]

Hey! I'm jewish and I just wanted to say you're doing fine. I stand with Palestine. This situation has nothing to do with religion. You've done nothing wrong

I kept this in my inbox for a few days bc I just wanted to ruminate over this and I chatted with a lot of IRL folks and yeah. Yeah. I want to just kind of expand on this in a way I don't think people really think of but idk it's been marinating in this brain soup of mine for a few days now.

I was heavily, heavily Christian a few years ago until I hit rock bottom mentally and realized how hard the church was on my mental health. And I had to unravel so many pieces and parts of me and expose so many open wounds before I could come to terms with who I was outside of religion. Somedays I still listen to hymns when I feel the need to, but I haven't been able to pick up my Bible in two years. The Beatitudes and Psalm 23 still rests on my tongue a lot. I use religious allegory and allusions frequently in my writing.

But oh how jealous I am of the devotion I see Jewish and Muslim people have towards their religions. I hold so much jealousy and love because of all the people I've met, I have been so amazed by their devotion and also their kindness. I think of my Muslim neighbors bringing over a platter of Syrian desserts on Christmas Eve with a note that wished us a Merry Christmas and blessings into the new year and that while they didn't celebrate the same holiday as us, they hoped their prayers would mean just the same. I think of my Jewish friends in college listening to my struggles with my own faith over coffee and bagels that they insisted I had to try. I remember sitting in our campus nondenominational room with a Torah, Bible, and Qu'ran seated next to a statue of Lakshmi, a Catholic portrait of Christ, and a prayer rug.

Perhaps this is such an American formerly evangelical protestant thing for me to say but I love the way that people who love their religions have so quietly touched my life. I remember how blatantly I would tell people I would pray for them, how we would grab hands with strangers and just pray over them, how we would stand on street corners and wave signs inviting people to church, how my church shunned me for asking questions.

But then there was the quiet Muslim man who handed me a free copy of the Qu'ran at a local food festival and he bowed his head as he handed it to me and asked that, "if you have any questions, concerns, anything, please come by our mosque." There was a few days ago when I expressed interest in Jewish theology that my friend plied me with links upon links of free resources, explanations of the Torah and the Tanakh, Mishnah, Kabbalah, etc. and told me to ask questions.

Idk this is a ramble of thoughts that have been whirling around in my head for a few days now. I just find myself craving the peace that many people find in religion, especially now. I hope that, right now, that those who believe in a higher power are able to lean on that.

[helianthus-tarot]

Upon seeing ur posts relating to books, here I am! Im a bookworm but i dont read much books since i cant afford lots of books 🥲. I'll just dump whatever books i can rec, alright? Make sure to check Goodread before you buy them 🥰

These are some recs of books i've read since 2020 to today. Feel free to pick whichever fits ur challenge! (☆ mark is a memoir)

Doctor Faustus by Christian Marlowe (this is a classic btw, not sure if you'll like it 😬)

I Want to Die but I Want to Eat Tteokbokki by Baek Sehee ☆

Deaf Utopia by Nyle DiMarco ☆

Look Closer by David Ellis

Seeing Voices by Oliver Sacks

In My Dreams I Hold a Knife by Ashley Winstead

Kim Jiyoung, Born 1982 by Cho Nam-joo

A Father's Story by Lionel Dahmer ☆

The Hate U Give by Angie Thomas

The Girl with Seven Names by Hyeonseo Lee ☆

I'm Afraid of Men by Vivek Shraya ☆

The Midnight Library by Matt Haig

Threading My Prayer Rug: One Woman's Journey from Pakistani Muslim to American Muslim by Sabeeha Rehman ☆

Crying in the H Mart by Michelle Zauner ☆

True Biz by Sara Nović

One Last Stop by Casey McQuiston

They Called Me a Lioness by Ahed Tamimi ☆

Familiar Things by Hwang Sokyong

Almond by Sohn Wonpyung

Kitchen by Banana Yoshimoto

Ghosted by Jenn Ashworth

Pachinko by Min Jin Lee

A Man Called Ove by Fredrik Backman

That's a long list, you read a lot and books by authors from different backgrounds too it seems! Thanks for the recommendations 🤍🤍🤍

Recommend a book! ❤️

[elizmanderson]

Henlo :3

I'm currently reading the Remarkable Retirement of Edna Fisher, and it was bugging me that I didn't know why Amir was flinching when Edna touched him, so (based on Akida's hijab and Amir's prayer rug) I looked into customs of Islam and learned some stuff and I just want to say thanks for having so many different kinds of lives in this book (: I always appreciate learning real world stuff in fun ways.

thank you so much for reading! I had a lot of help with Amir's character from Muslim friends who kindly answered my questions and/or read early drafts and gave me feedback. I'd like to take this opportunity to recommend a couple Muslim authors and their books*!

Adiba Jaigirdar is an auto-buy author for me! three of her books are queer YA romance - The Henna Wars, Hani & Ishu's Guide to Fake Dating, and The Dos and Donuts of Love (the last one is coming out in June) - but she also has A Million to One, which is a heist story set on the Titanic. that one just released in December, so I haven't read it yet, but I'm SO EXCITED for it. check out Adiba's books on her website.

Priyanka Taslim is a fellow 2023 debut whose book I looked forward to for ages, and it did not disappoint! The Love Match is pitched as a Bangladeshi-American YA romance that will appeal to fans of Jane Austen (and also it will appeal to tea-lovers everywhere). it has fake dating, complicated family dynamics, and a love triangle that really kept me guessing. Priyanka also has an adult novel, From Mumbai With Love, anticipated to release early in 2024, so add it on GoodReads now. check out Priyanka's website here.

Kataru Yahya is another fellow debut whose book is alas not out yet, but I can't wait to read it! Home Is a Silhouette is a loose, contemporary retelling of Beauty & the Beast that is set in Ghana. If you haven't seen the cover yet, be sure to take a look, because it's ridiculously gorgeous. add the book on GoodReads now, and check out Kataru's Linktree here. (she is also a poet, and some of her poetry is linked on Linktree if you're interested!)

Aamna Qureshi is the definition of "it's about the range": if you're looking for an author who can do contemporary, fantasy, long-form, short-form - look no further. The Lady or the Lion and The Man or the Monster (a YA fantasy duology retelling of the story "The Lady or the Tiger") are out now. keep an eye out for When a Brown Girl Flees (2023), If I Loved You Less (2024), and My Big, Fat, Desi Wedding (edited by Prerna Pickett, 2024) if you prefer contemporary! see more details on Aamna's website.

Khadijah VanBrakle is another fellow debut, and her book comes out next month! Fatima Tate Takes the Cake is recommended for fans of Elizabeth Acevedo and Ibi Zoboi (um, YES) and is yet another debut with an absolutely gorgeous cover that I'm obsessed with. if you like coming-of-age stories that are gritty yet hopeful, be sure to give this one a look. see more details on Khadijah's website!

*I write adult contemporary fantasy, and you'll notice this list is like. mostly YA contemporary/YA romance with a sprinkling of YA fantasy. that is because, as much as I love adult fantasy and writing in the adult fantasy space, most of what I read in general tends to be YA, and most of what I've read since the pandemic started leans romance (because low stakes and a guaranteed HEA are exactly what I have needed since the pandemic started).

[thepastisalreadywritten]

SAINT OF THE DAY (March 23)

Catholics in Latin America and throughout the world will celebrate the life and ministry of St. Turibius of Mogrovejo on March 23.

The 16th-century bishop upheld the rights of Peru's indigenous peoples and became one of the first canonized saints of the Americas.

Turibius was born in Spain on 16 November 1538 to a noble family in the kingdom of Leon.

He frequently prayed, fasted, and gave to the poor even as a child. He eventually developed the daily habit of praying the Rosary along with the Little Office of the Blessed Virgin Mary.

He went on to study law at the University of Salamanca and eventually served as a judge for five years in the territory of Granada.

His judicial wisdom and diligence drew the attention of King Philip II, who wanted Turibius – who was still a layman – to be consecrated as a missionary archbishop for the Spanish colony of Peru.

Turibius became greatly dismayed, protesting to the king and Church authorities that he was not even a priest and could not possibly accept the charge.

In a series of letters, he pled that he was not personally capable of serving as the Archbishop of Lima – nor, he reminded them, did canon law permit a layman to become an archbishop.

Eventually, however, he had little choice but to comply. He was consecrated as a bishop in 1581 at the age of 43, then immediately left for Lima, Peru.

The new archbishop undertook to travel throughout the rugged and mountainous diocese, where he observed many of the worst effects of colonialism – both upon the enslaved and oppressed natives, and on many of the colonists who seemed to have lost their souls in the pursuit of wealth.

He responded with constant prayer and penance, as he traveled throughout his territory administering the sacraments, teaching the Catholic faith, and establishing schools, seminaries and hospitals.

To the indigenous Peruvians, the archbishop was a herald of the Gospel who held their lives as more precious than their country's supplies of gold and silver.

But to the many colonists whose behavior showed no sign of their Catholic origins, he was a prophetic scourge – whose efforts to awaken the public conscience earned him rebukes and opposition.

Turibius ultimately managed to make three visitations of his diocese, under rugged and dangerous conditions, which occupied about half of his 25 years as Archbishop of Lima.

He united the Peruvian Church at an administrative level by holding several local councils of its clergy but was also known to spend days traveling to reach a single individual with the message of Christ.

The archbishop became seriously ill in 1606.

He sensed that his death was imminent and decreed that his possessions should be distributed to the poor.

Turibius died on 23 March 23 1606. His body was found to be incorrupt the next year.

He was beatified by Pope Innocent XI on 2 July 1679. He was canonized by Pope Benedict XIII on 10 December 1726.

He is now regarded as the patron of native peoples' rights and Latin American bishops.

[theoffingmag]

Samira Idroos’ works in textile The Greatest and Fans cheekily reimagine Islamic prayer rugs with the embroidered additions of Nike and Supreme logos. The repetition of a rotated Nike swoosh reads like a calligraphic articulation of “Allah” in Arabic, while the word “supreme” makes reference to the ninety-nine words to describe Allah as the “most good” in the Quran. Idroos prompts her viewers to consider their worship of commodity and the power of slogan and icon to garner loyalty and following. With the prayer rugs hung against the wall at eye level, the Sri Lankan-American artist also demonstrates the physical impossibility of kneeling for prayer with these reimagined readymades of faith as they are installed as art objects. 

Contemporary Exhibition Inspired by the Sacred – ALTER – Leaves One Changed

[distinktionsfetzen]

Check out Nicholas Galanin, Signal Disruption, American Prayer Rug (2020), From Peter Blum Gallery