#I HATE THE INDONESIAN GOVERNMENT SO MUCH | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jesncin · 7 months ago

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Hi I love you guys' work. I know I already sent in an ask before, but I'm also a queer Indonesian creator who loves animated stories and musicals. And plans to make her own animated indie musical show on YouTube. Which is queer and based on space. And the main character is plus sized, queer, and has a non binary love interest. I wanted to ask since Indonesia is still really homophobic, how do you deal with being a queer Indonesian creator making queer content while your country is extremely homophobic. Because I often feel scared to do so because of what the government might think. Sorry for randomly asking this btw

Hello there! That sounds like a very ambitious project! Best of luck to you, I'm all for more queer space adventures.

So I'm sure to a lot of queer Indonesians looking at the work I'm doing, they're thinking "how the heck are jesncin doing all that and being so loud about it" haha. At least so far (who knows what the future holds now that my book is out) I've managed to create queer Indonesian art online for years (including smaller published work) and had very little homophobic pushback. Which I know I'm very lucky with- I've lost a lot of peers to bigoted locals and hate campaigns. It's a mix of strategies and contingencies I keep to foster as safe a space as I can.

It's a common practice among queer Indonesian activists to speak predominantly in english, something I already do because of my language barrier. Most locals don't bother interacting with an account speaking in english- weaponizing their language barrier haha. I stuck to western spaces early on, but because I drew a lot of blatantly queer Indonesian art- queer Indonesians (diaspora or otherwise) naturally flocked to my stuff. The audience filters itself. I don't interact with local discourse at all. I also stayed away from visibility events (on twidder like #artIDN or #ArtistsofIndonesia or even #tetapbangga for Malaysians) until I felt comfortable with the community I fostered to join in. It's common especially for queer tags to be monitored by bigots looking for people to pick on. Speaking of which, block and don't interact with them. Don't give into the temptation of replying to bigots because it just gives them more ammo. Their goal is to exhaust you so you lock your account and "can't spread your agenda" or whatever.

I purposefully wanted to publish my stories through an American publisher for a lot of reasons, but it certainly helps that Lunar Boy can be out and proud out there where it can't get to be in Indonesia. I notice queer authors here tend to publish either online or internationally with an independent publisher too. Still- you'd be surprised how much the local queer community is enthusiastically ready to support you. Because of the state of Indonesia as it is, everything is handled more "under the radar" for the sake of safety. My personal biggest fear is starting another moral panic incident- but the many queer Indonesian communities I've been in have their own strict rules and precautions to keep members safe. They're worried about that too, but they want to help you succeed! Once my book released, the Indonesian queer community had my back and even helped me with some author events and exclusive meetups. At least for me, it was instrumental to be connected to the local community.

That's where I am for now. I created Lunar Boy while being closeted the entire time. I've erased my queer publications from my resume when applying to author events locally. There's always some kind of assimilation that happens in the process. I'll always be scared of pushback or sparking another moral panic incident. But that's the risk this kind of representation is, isn't it? I had no one else to look up to. No other queer Indonesian graphic novelist making explicitly queer Indonesian stories. It was an isolating experience making this book. But now that I'm here, the next person who comes along won't be alone. And seeing the people who've connected to Lunar Boy, especially other queer Indonesians from all around the world, makes it so worth it.

#askjesncin #i dislike being called “a trailblazer” because of it's colonial roots and I don't vibe with that as a marginalized author #instead I propose “hellblazer” because I am in fact making deals with devils and have contingencies for everything #you have to outsmart a system designed to oppress and gatekeep you- probably lose all your friends too

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moonlitcomet · 1 year ago

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Do the other sophont cultures have marriage and if so, what are the ceremonies for it like? Are there ceremonies for divorce too?

-⭐-

Sorcerers do. According to @sugarratio1, the tradition for proposal is for the man to steal the woman away, which is quite a feat of dedication, bond, and strength considering how sorcerer men are so much smaller than their ladies. If he is successful, then the duo is to be married. I'm not sure how it works for homosexual relationships due to the fact that they were taboo for most of the existence of the culture[thanks trionfi] but I assume it's similar. Maybe someone is to take the place of the "man" regardless of their actual genders.

Their marriages and weddings are treated like a royal ceremony, where everyone [even government officials] is invited. After the oath is performed, it becomes an entertainment event with performances, buffets and feasts, and religious blessings and regards toward the married couple.

The men being married are dressed as kings and the women as queens. The guests wear formal clothing such as batik, colorful religious robes, or koko clothes [What I'm assuming is baju koko, a traditional indonesian skirt that men wear].

In sorcerer culture you need to be registered in order to officiate a marriage. Divorce rates in Khartes Trichier are extremely low and don't often happen, what with their culture being centered around the happiness and welfare of a couple rather than a supposed nuclear family. Divorce usually only happens outside of Khartes Trichier.

-🐲-

Dragons aren't known to have marriages at all, unless they are marrying humans. They are more traditional and trust-based in their courtship. Dragon culture has no legal benefits for courted individuals, especially for the more independent types of dragons out there.

Dragon courtship is more like that of birds. One will display in some way to the other, and if the display is accepted, they will stay together as a couple[or more]. It's pretty unceremonious honestly. They just never developed the cultural views around marriage and feel no need to. Same goes for divorce. If you hate your partner, you just leave. Or kill them.

-🐔-

Fauns typically live in polyamorous relationships. 3-4 individuals is the average, and a relationship of 2 is very rare, within the 0.3% of their population. Some polycules have been seen having up to 10 fauns, and the biggest one ever seen had 23!

A "marriage" between polycules is a party, often a competition. The winner of these competitions is dubbed the matriarch and by tradition is the one expected to carry on their bloodline. This is mostly just for fun, as nowadays the title doesn't mean anything in the long run. And also the fact that the competitions aren't always shows of strength anymore- a humorous development in recent years is that some of these marrying competitions are competitive video game brackets.

Divorce with fauns is... messy. They have no expectation for wed fauns to want to separate from each other, which makes escaping a relationship difficult without a long and painful legal battle. Sometimes the only way you can escape a relationship in faun culture is to defeat your matriarch, and a toxic relationship wouldn't allow it to be a friendly competition. You'd likely have to kill them.

#questions #soul rune cier #sorcerers #dragons

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b66clematis · 4 months ago

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if i say this on twitter about that lebak bulusian guy, will i get my ass beaten? i dunno... that's scary...

considering this site is shutting down, this feels like the right place to say it, and i'm just gonna say it right to the point:

i don't like the "anies baswedan fanclub" vibe in indonesian twitter lately... yeah.

look. i'm not against this guy. as someone who commutes to jakarta daily, i would like to thank him for cutting a good chunk of my transportation expenses with mikrotrans. i also enjoyed christina martha tiahahu park. he has been funny so far (see my write up about jokowi's supernaturals). we could have worse.

but... i don't know. something just feels... off. uncanny? probably due to 2 reasons:

personal reasons. i used to like a public figure. then he became cocky, failed to prove the thing he was boasting about. and that caused him to be ridiculed. it goes on for a good 4 years. it was not fun at all, and this public figure is not even a politician, nor big superstar. what he did wasn't something grave either, yet it was the worst 4 years in my fandom career. taught me to never like real life people anymore. they're imperfect, and getting attached too close to them means, it's also likely harder to deattach when they trip.

people keep on saying to never trust politicians. they all hide something bad in them, only cares for their interests, yada yada. so when you see a politician that appears to defy this rule... it's gonna stand out in a badly suspicious way. even people like, say, mahfud MD, still gets blamed for his stance on kanjuruhan tragedy and passing the omnibus law bill (he's more like an enabler than actually the cause, need to be noted). or ganjar pranowo, who still has the wadas mining site haunting him at times (although weirdly enough, i don't see conversations about this often during pemilu either on twitter).

you may object "what are you on, he has mistakes too! remember his 2017 winning speech during pilkada jakarta?" this is true. twitter also have talked about some of his "mistakes", like how his pinisi overpass have no roof (they need to put that roof), not continuing LRT (apparently another saga of "government hates anies", see this debate between ahok's guy VS anies' guy about it), or the "tiktok users are implied to have no common sense" phrasing thing*. but in the overall indonesian twitter climate... it doesn't seem to impact him greatly. there are still many people willing to defend them. unlike mahfud, which no one tried to defend his blunders, or even ganjar who still have most accounts doubting his defense. the 212 thing? it has been debunked often with a picture of prabowo in the mass event. his mistakes are overall not really prominently seen around.

he's also really the perfect recipe for what (twitter) people picture as an ideal leader. charismatic, soft and well spoken, open to criticism, interacts a lot to people both in real life (you gotta see his house, it's very open to people, both in planning and function) and the internet (kinda too chronically online lately), transparent history (i know too much about this guy at this point, thanks twitter), an overall consistent idealism, and so far has been aligning with the opposition's demands. he feels very close and reachable to the people, unlike most politicians here. someone that can give people hope in these dark times of democracy.

i don't write this to wish downfall for anies. if he is just actually that good and all of his mistakes are still arguable, then i suppose it's mostly fine. if anything, i'm actually kinda on a suspertitious doubt that he's having one anytime soon. in my belief, someone that has been disgraced so hard will one day receive the reward, and someone who is on a high place may fall soon so that no one will deify them. in the past years, anies has received a lot of blame, hoax, and defamation**. so by logic of this suspertition, this is probably god's reward for anies, for enduring such hardships.

... or is it? what if it's actually the other one, being "currently on a high place?" i don't know, this is kinda hard to gauge. anies is HELLA popular in twitter, but also HATED in the indonesian people in general. so, he is popular, but also not popular...?

but yeah. what i anticipate is, whether god will expose his fatal faults one day, or trips himself, and people end up defending him instead. creating another joko widodo. especially when every of his faults have counters that you just don't hear anyone complain about it anymore, or when some people start to say "this guy really have no weaknesses, don't he? imagine passing a leader like this." and so on. even when you preface it with "not to idolize him, but-" or "i know we have to praise the idea and not the person". it's kinda hard to buy in the current climate.

heck, i even have seen some people going "if i write down this anies criticism or scandal*** that once happened to him, i will get my ass beaten". that's... not really good indicator? if anies is open to criticism and the people are also welcome to the idea of scolding anies when he does wrong, then no people should be worried to post it. i think overall, what i want to say is that... it's kinda hard to tell how good anies actually is, because all that blow up is the good things. most criticisms are usually debated over in twitter's harsh style. it starts to give out an imagery that anies is an utopia dream.

prove me right, twitter. when the time unfortunately falls upon us****, prove that you are all here for anies' idealisms, and not anies as a person.

FOOTNOTES (tumblr, please put support for footnote formatting. thanks!)

*i'm aware that none of these is as grave as omnibus law bill, or wadas.

**he kinda did this to himself, IMO, but he appears to have been learning from that mistake and starting to reestablish his reputation.

***i, of course, also wish this to not happen, hence "unfortunately".

****something about how he become the rector in paramadina. apparently involved some insider sabotage thing (he's not supposed to be the rector), but i haven't seen any full dicussion on this other than paramadina people hearsays, and my friend who went there during his era didn't know either. so i'm not sure about how true is it.

too many footnotes...

#B18 indopol

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saturniandragon · 6 months ago

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Hello, Im Falestine from Gaza🍉🍉. . Im married and have son his name yousef , i born him in war.

Sorry if I am harassing you asking for help, I am extremely embarrassed and embarrassed of trying to ask for help.

I simply don’t want to die, I want to live I want to give Yousef a better life. Help me to escape Gaza

I lost apart of my family😭, my home, and everything I own. We are living in difficult circumstances. I hope you can help me by donating even a simple thing orو publishing 🙏🙏

My campaign was vetted by 90ghost🫂

https://gofund.me/7e05a237

Ok, um, wow, this is my first time getting this kind of message.

At this time I can't personally confirm you have been vetted and therefore I'm unable to donate to your gofundme page.

I am donating via my country's official, government-approved, Palestine donation page through Baznas (Badan Amil Zakat Nasional, a government-held Islamic zakat organization). I can only hope that their help can reach you and your family, in case this call for help turns out to be truly from a struggling family.

(I'm Indonesian, so my country's relationship with Palestine is as close as ever, and my country's relationship with Israel is absolutely fucking horrendous because we hate them that much).

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olderthannetfic · 2 years ago

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Do people in the US use bananas in desserts or cakes?

Yes.

We love our bananas almost as much as we hate commies or letting Latin America run its own governments!

The banana is actually our most consumed fruit. We pretty much only have the Cavendish unless you go to an Asian or Latin market. I'd say the average American doesn't even know bananas come in multiple types. But that one variety we have thoroughly incorporated into our cuisine for over a century.

Obviously, immigrants bring cuisines with them, so you'll see some Latin American and Asian dishes using bananas here if you're in the right part of the country, but probably the most quintessentially American uses of the banana for dessert are the banana cream pie and the banana split.

Bananas are also often added to milkshakes or used as garnish on other ice cream dishes at ice cream parlors. Pretty much any ice cream parlor will have banana splits on its menu at all times. (Though places that just serve scoops of ice cream to go in a cone or cup might not.) Banana cream pies aren't as ubiquitous, but most bakeries that make pies will have them as one of the flavors they alternate between alongside some staples they make every day, and restaurants that serve pie for dessert will frequently have this flavor.

Bananas Foster is a flambé typical of midcentury restaurants trying to be fancy (meaning 1950s) and came from New Orleans. It's not something I'd ever expect to see on menus around here in 2020s California. I'm not sure what kind of restaurant Bananas Foster would be typical of in the modern day outside of New Orleans. Event caterers might offer it as a gimmicky dessert for a special occasion. I guess I think of it as more of an impress the tourists type food than a default, but it's something I'd expect to see in a book on "American cuisine".

Banana bread and related muffins are very common. These are sweet but not overpoweringly so, and you'd typically find them in a coffee shop as a snack, maybe for breakfast or for mid afternoon. We have lots of "breads" in this genre including the very common pumpkin bread.

Banana pudding is a kind of trifle that is very typical of Southern cuisine. Growing up, the only time I ever saw it was at a particular soul food and BBQ place (there's a lot of overlap between African American traditions and Southern ones for obvious reasons).

I suppose it sometimes looks as fancy as most of the image search pics I'm finding, but my personal experience with it from that BBQ place is a lot closer to the gloopy homemade pic on Wikipedia. I've always seen it made with Nilla wafers, which I consume in no other context.

American Chinese food is ubiquitous, and restaurateurs were faced with a dilemma: American diners expect a dessert course, but Chinese Chinese cuisines don't descend from that same era of French haute cuisine that set the number of courses and their order in the eyes of Western Europe. The default ~exotic~ dessert they settled on was fried bananas. They're a version of the deep-fried banana fritter from all over the place. IDK how closely ours resemble the Indonesian ones. This is one case where you do sometimes see "baby bananas" in a mainstream American context, though fried bananas are also often made with the Cavendish.

(Baby bananas are those small, thin-skinned ones. The internet tells me they're also Finger Banana, Ladyfinger Banana, Nino Banana, Murapo, and Orito. Sorry if that's pedantic. I've got no idea which bananas you guys have over there. Something more than the shitty Cavendish, I presume.)

You wouldn't be likely to see a fried banana anywhere but as dessert at a Chinese restaurant or maybe at a Tiki restaurant on the rare occasions those still exist.

If you're not familiar, the midcentury US was obsessed with this fad for faux-tropical decor, food, and very alcoholic drinks. Supposedly, a lot of it was fueled by military men having served in the Pacific, so it has a heavy Hawaiian influence, but it's really a mishmash of incoherent memories of Polynesian things with a heavy topping of colonialism and exoticism. It's problematic trash, and I love it, especially the stupid mugs.

The frozen banana is another US cuisine thing. It's a frozen banana on a stick with a chocolate coating and usually nuts stuck to the chocolate. Apparently, this one is from California, so it may be less ubiquitous than I imagine.

Wikipedia reminds me of Hummingbird Cake, which is a Southern thing that, in my opinion, hasn't made it as far outside that area as banana pudding.

Lately, our collective boner for the Great British Bakeoff has made Banoffee pie start showing up here, but it's not really an American thing.

Wikipedia tells me there's something called a banana boat that's a classic campfire food (i.e. something you make in/on a campfire while camping). It sounds like an upgraded s'more, and I am outraged that nobody told me this was a thing.

A very regional specialty that I only recall because of a Josh Lanyon novel is buffalo milk, which is an alcoholic milkshake that's the signature drink of Santa Catalina, an island near L.A. that has a herd of bison living on it due to some filmmaking shenanigans in the 1920s. Sometimes, it only uses banana liqueur, but it can also use fresh bananas. It's a chocolate-coffee-banana concoction.

I'm quite fond of peanut butter banana sandwiches, but aside from those and fruit salad, I'd say Americans probably think of the banana more as a breakfast food, slicing it onto our cereal and onto or into our pancakes and drinking it in smoothies. Or we think of it as a standalone snack in handy packaging. But we definitely have a wide variety of banana desserts and sweet drinks too.

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medanperan · 4 years ago

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i'd like to think that everything comes with costs. honestly, aside from dirty politicians (which happens in a lot of place), i like Indonesia the way it is. the collectivism sometimes drives me crazy like i wished we'd stop minding other people's bussiness, but again this collectivism get us to think about others and help them. in this country, we let the poors live. we don't just hijack them and leave them alone. we don't let them try to uplift their SES by thei own selves, we help them. we have policies of zakat, we have this thing called sedekah, and our goverments even have the program called UMKM to help them grow businesses & healthcare and basic education is affordable for anyone. in this country, poors can survive. even the fundamental amandment said we have to protect them at all costs.

i mean, sure, this country is not perfect. but i understand this country is nothing alike. we have too many cultures and they are waaay too diverse. in this much of differences i sometimes find my self surprised how often we find common ground and feel like we belong to one nation. i've lived in northern east, nothern west, middle southern, and now in the capital city of thw country and i'm not saying all of this because of the things i imagined. all the thoughts come from what i've seen.

and sure, our government sometimes is trashy and can not be counted on. even though life seems easy here, the truth is it's not. everyone's basic needs is fulfilled, but the quality makes the best of us have to strive for more than just basic. i appreciate the effort but unfortunately it's not enough. but well, still better than none tho, considering how big the country is with a lot of islands that makes it harder to ship things and get things well distributed + we have a damn lot people here. like we have the 4th biggest population in the whole world. and so we've got a lot of problem without dirty politicians pollute the country. the craziest thing is, they're not like 1 or 2, but they are a lot and well-organized. it's sad to see all the good values held in basic constitution is reflected on corruption and all the dirty things we see as Indonesian in daily basis. for the record, i do not consider them as Indonesians. how can i? by corruption they just violated all the points in Pancasila so if anyone of their side, you better shut the f up. and honest to God, for those who benefits from their gimmick to help the poors, i hope they are burned in the darkest hell and if hell doesn't exist i hope they'll experience thing close to that in this life.

and i hope that i and all of you would NEVER get into that dirty path.

one thing more i do not like about this country is how proud we are to be colonized. honestly i hate the way people shame their folks because of their pride in sometimes because hey the our pride of this nation is what will bring us to the top. it's not shameful. we don't have to fit all of the western standards because we aren't them. we don't live the same value as them. we don't colonize and ethnic cleanse people (well, look at aborigins and indians), we're not materialistic people who'd do anything for money, we're not a nation who can't accept different shades of skin colours and different cultures. i repeat it for you, we are not them. and we don't have to be one.

honestly, i am not at that phase yet to say that i'm that proud of my country and i'd do anything for it. but i am at that phase where i'm glad to be born and raised in Indonesia.

dear my folks, i hope you do too.

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theculturedmarxist · 4 years ago

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By Gary Brecher.Republished from the Radio War Nerd subscriber newsletter. Subscribe to Radio War Nerd co-hosted with Mark Ames for podcasts, newsletters and more!. Posted with THE EXILED.

There’s a gigantic, well-organized, extremely violent fascist group with tens of thousands of active members in Germany right now.

And nobody notices.

You’d think all the fascist-hunters would have sniffed it out by now, but it goes right by them as if these guys were invisible.

Which is odd, because this group is not trying to hide, or pretending to be harmless. They’re not shy about it, and it’s not just talk. They have quite a record. They’ve been rampaging for decades, and if anything they’re stronger now than they used to be. They’re closely linked to CIA and Nazi groups; they’re very busy beating, burning, and murdering minorities of all kinds, and boast quite openly about hating literally everyone who’s not a member of their own ethnic group and sect, even suggesting that members go on “hunting expeditions” against minorities which they’d already almost wiped out back in the 20th century.

This group recently held massive, open rallies in the cities of Germany, and it’s only in the last few years that the government has even attempted to ban the public symbols and salutes of this massive fascist group.

There’s something grotesquely comic about this. We have a swarm of fascist-spotters who’ve spent the last few decades waiting for fascism to emerge in Germany when it was marching around, shouting at the top of its lungs, beating minorities, celebrating genocide, and supporting ethnic cleansing right in front of their damn faces.

I’m talking about the Gray Wolves. And I defy anyone to find a more successful, out-front, no-kidding, massive, effective, ruthless fascist organization anywhere in the world. They’re adapting quickly, and even have their own fierce Wiki defenders.

Here are a few highlights from their long, successful career:

In 1978, Gray Wolves started pogroms against Alevi Kurds in Maras (also known as Kahramanmaras) in South-Central Anatolia.

Location is important here. Maras is due north of Aleppo across the Syrian border, NW of Kobane, and above all just up the road from Gazantiep. Gazantiep is a key city for right-wing Turkish nationalists, a city dominated not just by people who are ethnically Turkish but who identify as rightwing Turks of the most intensely nationalist kind. This kind of population lives in a state of siege, glories in that feeling, and is almost always willing to lash out against the sea of minorities they imagine surrounding them. That’s why Gazantiep keeps making the news as a nice convenient safe house for IS and their Turkish allies, some of whom killed 57 Kurds at a wedding in 2016.

It’s important to emphasize that people who are ethnically Turkish are not a bloc. Some of the bravest people on earth, languishing in the Turkish state’s prisons or buried in unmarked graves, are proudly Turkish by ancestry.

And then there are the young men who join the Gray Wolves. Those men are murderous fascists, and it’s cowardice to pretend not to see that.

Violence by these men against minorities has never stopped, but it hit its peak — more like the highest peak in a mountain-range of a graph — in 1978, before the Anglosphere had any handle on sectarian violence in the Middle East.

The target of the Gray Wolves in Maras was a double minority: Alevi Kurds. Alevi Muslims are often considered heretics by Salafists and other Sunni fundamentalists. They were massacred with impunity in Ottoman pogroms. Erdogan’s AK Party, which very much wants to revive Ottoman practice and Ottoman borders, openly considers the Alevi heretics fair game for the Gray Wolves’s death squads.

Those who were killed in 1978 were not only Alevi, but Kurds — and the Turkish state, which embraced Wilsonian ethnic nationality with a vengeance, a terrible vengeance, hates Kurds simply for being Kurds. So the Kurdish Alevi of Maras were a natural target twice-over.

The campaign against them built up for weeks, as pogroms usually do, with the unpredictable pace partly a result of working with unstable, violent mobs but also part of a strategy to terrorize the victims, who never know when things will go from bad (very bad) to even-worse.

The details of the massacre are very typical, sickening but not unusual:

Witnesses to the massacre.

Seyho Demir: “The Maras Police Chief at the time was Abdülkadir Aksu, Minister of the Interior in the last AKP government. The massacre was organised by MIT (the Turkish secret service), the Nationalist Movement Party (MHP) and the Islamists together… As soon as I heard about the massacre, I went to Maras. In the morning I went to Maras State Hospital. There I met a nurse I knew…When she saw me, she was surprised: ‘Seyho, where have you come from? They are killing everyone here. They have taken at least ten lightly-wounded people from the hospital downstairs and killed them.’ This was done under the control of the head physician of the Maras State Hospital. Everyone knows that such a big massacre cannot be carried out without state involvement. In the Yörükselim neighbourhood they cut a pregnant woman open with a bayonet. They took out the eight-month foetus, shouting “Allah Allah” and hung it from an electricity pole with a hook. The pictures of that savagery were published in the newspapers that day. The lawyer Halil Güllüoglu followed the Maras massacre case. The files he had were never made public. He was killed for pursuing the case anyway. Let them make those files public, then the role of the state will become clear.”

Meryem Polat: “They started in the morning, burning all the houses, and continued into the afternoon. A child was burned in a boiler. They sacked everything. We were in the water in the cellar, above us were wooden boards. The boards were burning and falling on top of us. My house was reduced to ashes. We were eight people in the cellar; they did not see us and left.”(EZÖ/TK/AG)

All accounts agree that the massacre not only happened with state collusion but state encouragement. No one was punished. Many were, in fact, promoted, and hold high positions in Erdogan’s government today.

That’s the pattern here: the Gray Wolves as the street-fighting wing of the state. The parallel is closer to Indonesian Islamists in 1965 than the SA in 1930s Germany, but so many people have trouble taking any fascism clearly unless it can be soldered to 1930s Germany that I may as well make the analogy for, as they say in the academic biz, heuristic purposes.

The Gray Wolves ideology is very widespread and acceptable in many (not all) communities in Turkey. This leads to a lot of more or less lone-wolf killings (as it were), as when a soldier who was a member of the Gray Wolves killed a fellow soldier for being an Armenian a few years ago.

Older readers might remember the attempted assassination of Pope John Paul II back in 1979.

The assassin was one Mehmet Ali Agca, a longtime member of the Gray Wolves.

He had a track record of killing leftists and other enemies on behalf of the “Idealists” (seriously, that’s what the Wolves call themselves):

“The weapon used in the Feb. 1, 1979, murder of a Turkish newspaper editor, Abdi Ipekci, for which Mr. Agca was convicted, was supplied by a member of the Idealist Clubs, according to the Turkish authorities. Other members helped Mr. Agca escape from prison. Still others prepared a false passport for him. And on the day of the killing, he went to the National Action Party offices.”

Note the familiar pattern: Ali Agca kills a leftist editor who’s annoying the Turkish state, gets caught, and manages to escape with a lot of help from Turkish intelligence.

They hardly bothered to hide their collusion in the escape. The Turkish state was killing a lot of leftists, a lot of intellectuals, a lot of minorities — the usual suspects for classic fascists like Ali Agca.

But as you older readers might recall, nobody in the media talked about Ali Agca as a Turkish fascist. He was, for Cold-War purposes, smeared as a Bulgarian agent.

The “Bulgarian connection” never made much sense, but it served the US/UK/Israel/Saudi intelligence agencies’ PR purposes. Remember, Turkey is NATO — very, very NATO.

NATO might survive the loss of many other small European states, but it could not survive losing Turkey. So the US/UK state will always side with the Turkish state and help them cover up fascist atrocities, blaming them on the Soviets until those useful patsies took their final dive.

Blaming Bulgaria rather than the obvious suspects, the Gray Wolves to which this thug Ali Agca had been murderously loyal all his life, was especially bizarre since there was an obvious sectarian motive: the Gray Wolves hate Christians, as they hate all other minorities, ethnic or religious, and make a point of staging provocations at all occasions when the remnants of what was once a huge Christian minority dare to show themselves in public.

Orthodox Christians are the Wolves’ preferred prey. They prefer not to do anything too bloody to high-profile Western targets like a pope, but when you squirt sectarian hate into weak minds and itchy trigger fingers for generations, some of the lads are going to pick the wrong victim.

Perhaps that’s what happened when Ali Agca went from NATO-approved murderer of leftists and Kurds, to shooting the Pope. We’ll never know, because it was quickly twisted into the ridiculous “Bulgaria did it” farce by the guys who enjoy a few cocktails with their opposite numbers from Ankara at all those NATO conferences.

And we’ll never know how much daily violence this massive fascist gang inflicts. Occasionally the Turkish state gets irritated enough to send a suicide bomber or two to kill Kurdish peace demonstrators, as it did in Ankara in 2015, killing 86 demonstrators and maiming a hundred more. But that state, our NATO ally, supports a whole madhouse of Arab and Turkmen jihadis as well as its own stable of disposable Gray Wolves assassins, so it may never be clear whether it was the Wolves, precisely, who pressed the detonators.

But it’s a statistical certainty that somewhere along the long line from greenlighting an attack like this and sending red-hot ball bearings splattering into the bodies of teenagers with peace banners, many of the men involved were members in good standing of the good ol’ Wolves.

Violence by the Gray Wolves is a constant in Turkey, usually unreported — especially now that Erdogan’s party has imprisoned thousands of journalists and intellectuals, and terrorized the rest into quietism or collusion. We may never know how many Kurds are murdered daily in the southeast of Anatolia, because no one who matters, in the Turkish state or its many powerful allies in the West (e.g. the Michael Flynn story) want you to know about it. It’s rare for those stories to make the news at all, but God knows you can’t forget them once you’ve read them.

In fact the Gray Wolves are going mainstream, and winning a lot of votes.

Fascism is mainstream in Turkey, getting more mainstream all the time — and has been since the violent dissolution of the Ottoman Empire. The Gray Wolves have quite a pedigree, a classic fascist genealogy.

Fascism is often strongest in the ruins of a defeated empire, and that was the situation in the former Ottoman Empire in the 1920s. The Empire had once ruled from Central Europe to Iraq, flowing and ebbing over the centuries (with a peak in the 16th century). At its peak, it was a fearsome conquering force.

There’s a great novel by the Albanian writer Ismail Kadare detailing the unstoppable waves of special forces that the Empire could unleash on strongpoints that held out against conquest.

The Ottomans took a long time to fall from that 16th c. peak. They were still around, partly because Britain and France always supported them against the bogeyman of the late Victorian Era, the Russian Threat.

Propped up by the two big powers of Europe, the Empire managed to survive a coup in 1908 by young officers who would go on to a career in defeat and genocide, because they guessed wrong on which side would win the oncoming Great War.

The Young Turks, as these officers were called, sided with the up-and-coming, efficient military of the neighboring empire: Germany. They guessed wrong, but not before they managed to exterminate the harmless Armenians who had recently been patronized as Turkey’s “model minority” for their docility. And this genocide went so well, so quietly, that Hitler, contemplating the genocide of the European Jews, allegedly demanded of any squeamish nay-sayers “Who remembers the Armenians?”

You get a lot of horrible echoes like that in this story. At any rate, no one cared to remember or notice the extermination of the Armenians, but the winners at Versailles were typically vengeful against the former Ottoman Empire — not by any means for wiping out the Armenians, but for being German allies, and losing.

Britain and France, now joined by the US, were as vengeful toward the former Empire as they had been lenient during its bloody final years. Ottoman rule over non-Turkish territory was erased. For a few years there was some doubt whether even Anatolia would remain a Turkish state.

Then, as most of you know, came Mustafa Kemal, soon to become Kemal Ataturk, a hero of Gallipoli (a Turkish/Ottoman victory that stood out proudly in the great defeat).

Ataturk was a typical elite young officer of the early 20th c. Those were very dangerous people, those young officers. Often impressive individuals, but completely ruthless and immensely fond of violence. That goes for all of them, right across the Continent — Hell, right across the world.

Ataturk formed a nucleus of former officers from the Great War. (Again, the international echoes are clear enough; suffice to say that these guys were the most dangerous, formidable demographic in a few generations, perhaps since the emergence of the Napoleonic elite.) They fought well, and then they went about making Turkey a monoethnic state, without mercy.

For a while, that state was professedly secular, but since it had already killed or driven out most religious minorities, the monoethnic state became, under the AK party, avowedly mono-sectarian as well.

The current chant of the Wolves many, many supporters is “My heart is Turkish and my soul is Muslim!” You must be both: ethnically Turkish and orthodox, Sunni Muslim as well. No mercy for anyone who fails either test, which means that a lot of Kurds, a lot of Alevis, a lot of secular Leftists, end up dead or in prison.

The evolution of the Gray Wolves is a classic fascist Genesis story, and the behavior of its hundreds of thousands (perhaps millions) of supporters is classic fascist violence. Why don’t more people notice that?

I hate to speculate, because the range of possible answers all boils down to cowardice, conformity, and the odd Euro-centrism one finds in the strangest places. They don’t get noticed because they’re not European, maybe? Fascism of the 1930s was European, and that’s the only kind amateurs notice? Odd, because Turkey is European enough to be the cornerstone of NATO.

This would not be the first time that the interests of what you could call the NATO Deep State aligned all too perfectly with the more gullible pockets of the Left. In fact, it’s very closely related to the phenomenon of not noticing, or trying very hard not to notice, the sectarian ultra-violence of the Syrian “rebels.” But this time, since Turkey is a NATO ally, it’s the violence of the state and its fascist proxies that is ignored. I struggle to come up with any other reason that the Gray Wolves get so little attention.

All I know is that we have a massive, ultra-violent, highly effective, classically fascist movement killing minorities every single day, and there’s an odd silence about it.

I would love to ask one of the innumerable online fascist hunters why they hunt stray curs and slink silently past the cold stare of the Gray Wolves. Perhaps it’s not so much any of the excuses I suggested above; perhaps some hunters just prefer smaller, easy prey to the real thing.

Gary Brecher is the nom de guerre-nerd of John Dolan. Buy his book The War Nerd Iliad. Hear him read his comic memoir Pleasant Hell in audiobook format.

Subscribe to the Radio War Nerd podcast & newsletter!

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amjustagirl · 4 years ago

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omg seeing singlish made me all :’’’’) my home

I remember the struggle of moving back to my home country (philippines) and talking to people with a singlish accent 😭🤣

Hello Klaire! It’s so nice to meet someone here that appreciates Singlish too!

I used to grow up hating it - thinking that British or American accents sounded so much crisper, posher. But by and by, I realised Singlish and Singaporean food is the cornerstone of my cultural identity, it’s what marks home as home.

The Singapore I (and I suspect you too <3) love isn’t gleaming skyscrapers and government led social engineering - no, it’s the broken English the caifan auntie uses when she asks - “eh girl, you want what ah?’, or the taxi uncle asking - “go where ah?”. It’s the efficiency and sheer expressiveness in the dialect that allows a single word “la” to be used to bookend a question or an answer, an exclamation or a condemnation.

It’s such a distinctive accent that heck, the minute I hear it, my head swivels ‘round and I’m like - eh, Singaporean / Malaysian spotted. HAHA.

Anyways, all of this to say - welcome! Feel free to shout at me in Singlish anytime. Also, we have a South East Asian discord server for the Singaporean / Malaysian / Filippino / Indonesian / etc haikyuu fans to gather, so lmk if you’d like to join (or you can directly reach out to our head honcho, @forgetou). We’re incredibly friendly and chatty and chaotic, especially when we shriek about ah beng atsumu!!!

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purplesurveys · 4 years ago

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What would you say is your favorite food? Sushi. < Ahhh, this is a good one. My favorite is down to a tie: it’s either chicken curry or burgers.

What color eyes does the person you like / love have? Are they pretty? Dark brown. I’m not too sure what the second question is referring to but yeah, she and her eyes are both pretty.

What was the first television show you were obsessed with? Hi-5, omg. That show was my life in preschool and I always watched the 12 NN replay as soon as I got back home from school, back when I was still on a half-day sched. I was so hooked I remember having legit tantrums before starting Grade 1 because grade school meant full days in school and thus having to miss out on the show entirely.

Do you like Mexican food or any other foreign foods? For sure. All my favorites are Asian (Indian, Japanese, Indonesian, Chinese, etc.) but I also enjoy Italian, Mexican, Greek etc cuisines. I generally haven’t tried African cuisines but I really, really want to.

What color is the keyboard you are currently using? The keys are black with white lettering.

Do you own any of those ‘chunky’ and cute rings? Nope, not my style.

What are you planning on eating for dinner tonight if you haven’t already? I saw my dad cooking up something deep-fried; it was like his own version of katsu or something, or maybe it’s fish fillet? I’m not too sure what it is yet but I’m excited and will probably eat lots of it as I skipped all my meals and have only been running on coffee and vape all day - not good.

Do you own an iPod or MP3 player? If so, when did you get it? Technically I still do. Haven’t used it since high school. I got it when I was 10 back in ‘08; I was envious of the kids in school who had iPods, so I asked my dad to buy me one even though I wasn’t super into music at the time. Not the best kid in the world.

When was the last time someone took your picture? Last Saturday when my package came. Apparently online deliveries now require your photo to be taken upon receiving your package and I think it’s for the seller to keep track of their transactions. I’m not a big fan of the new procedure, but it’s whatevs.

Would you rather write a report or type it on a computer? Type.

What color was the last jacket or hoodie you wore? Gray.

Do you receive more compliments or insults on a daily basis? Neither, really. I haven’t been talking to people a lot; and when I do it’s for work, where I receive neither compliments nor insults.

Who is the lead actress / actor from your absolute favorite movie? Audrey Hepburn and Albert Finney, or Matt Damon and Ben Affleck.

Can you recite the alphabet backward? [continued from last night] Slowly, but I’m sure I can finish it.

Do you eat chili when you get a hotdog, or do you like it plain? We don’t do hotdogs with chili here. I generally don’t see chili much where I live and I wouldn’t call it a common dish.

Would you say it’s easy for people to make you smile or laugh? At first I thought it was, but I’m slowly realizing that it isn’t.

What would you say is your favorite cereal, if you even like it? Cookie Crisp is the only one I like. I don’t have cereal often.

When was the last time you went on vacation? Where was it? It was a quick weekend getaway to Tagaytay and then Cavite, if it counts.

How many states have you been to in your lifetime? Zero.

Do you and your friends normally say you love one another? Yep, especially with Andi and Angela.

Have you ever been an outcast at your school or anywhere else? I was definitely one in early grade school, and again in Grade 6 when both my closest friends migrated in a span of six months, and I spent nearly all my lunch periods alone. Looking back on it, I’m really glad I powered through and made it here because I truly wasn’t happy at the time.

Do you own any dresses? If so, what colors are they? I have lots of sundresses and little black dresses because I was into those for a very long time at one point. Some of them are black, obviously, but I also have dresses in blue, maroon, and olive.

Would you say you drink more pop / soda than you should? I never drink soda as I’ve always felt like I spend more time complaining about how drinking it feels like burning my tongue and throat than actually enjoying it.

Would you rather have orange juice or milk with your breakfast? Water.

How many different colors has your bedroom been painted? Just one. The walls have been white ever since we moved here 12 years ago.

Do you cuss? If so, do you ever cuss in front of your parents? I’ll slip in front of them sometimes but I never get in trouble for it anymore.

Would you ever tell your mom about the things you’ve done sexually? Our humor together can be raunchy sometimes but I don’t think I’d ever do this. I dunno if she wants to hear I’ve had sex with a girl either.

Is there anyone out there who can make you cry very easily? Yes.

What was the worst news you’ve heard this entire week? *In the last week, hearing about the typhoon’s effects in other cities didn’t feel good. This entire country is literally only getting by with donations from the private sector because the government isn’t doing shit for cities and families who got severely affected by the typhoon; it’s almost depressing to hear and read about.

Have you ever been in a car wreck? I’ve been in minor car accidents but it would be too much to call any of them car wrecks. They had all just been tiny bumps or thuds.

Do you have your ears pierced? If not, what do you have pierced? Yes, my mom had my earlobes pierced when I was an infant. I don’t plan on getting any more new ones as I’m not really into piercings.

Has anyone ever told you that they think you have ADHD? Nope.

What is your biggest pet peeve? When people reach out first via text/IM then even if I get back to them in 5–10 seconds, it takes them a long time to get back to me. It’s especially annoying if they classify it as urgent, I drop everything to reply quickly, then they end up disappearing. Like why?

Do a lot of people understand you completely? Who does exactly? No, I like keeping a wall up.

Would you say you’re really good at cooking and baking things? Haha no. But it’s something I want to be skilled in, definitely. I’d love to be able to make the food I usually just thirst over on the internet. I’m taking baby steps, like figuring out how to make certain sandwiches, but I have a long way to go before I can consider myself any good.

How is the weather outside right this second? It’s been a little cloudy this morning but it might start to get fair seeing how I’m beginning to see the sky turn blue. I’m just hoping there won’t be too much sun, period.

Do you have a lot of trees around your house? What about buildings? No buildings as I live in a gated village. We have a number of trees around, but I wouldn’t call it ‘a lot.’

Would you say either one of your parents are 'pack-rats?’ No. I have that title, and I believe I inherited it from my great-grandmother who was a bit of a pack rat herself, as I’ve been told.

Have you ever disowned anyone in your family? For what reasons? Kinda. I don’t associate with one of my uncles because he has a terrible drinking issue that he never got to permanently fix. Whenever I see him at family gatherings he just smells like stale gin or whatever it is he drinks, and it just ruins the essence of family reunions for me. As recent as Christmas Day last year he drove drunk and crashed into a car with an entire family, but as always his ass got lucky because 1) no one in the family got hurt, and 2) said family let go of the lawsuit they were planning to file against him.

Have you ever seen That 70’s Show? Do you watch it regularly? I tried watching the first episode but genuinely could not find it entertaining for the life of me. Sorry, Mila :(

If you could choose, what decade would you rather live in? I never really think about revisiting decades - they’re already behind, so what’s the point? As bad as the 2020s have been looking, I’m okay with staying here.

How often would you say you get sick? Once a year at most.

Is there anyone out there who has hurt you so much, you wish they’d die? I used to wish they would die, but I don’t feel that way anymore.

Has anyone ever called you a socio-path before? I don’t think so.

When was the last time you watched a movie in theaters? December.

Have you ever moved to a completely different state before? We’ve moved to different regions before.

Do you mind it when surveys ask you really personal questions? No. Isn’t that part of the point of surveys?

When was the last time you told someone you love them? Thursday or Friday I think, when Andi said it to me first and I said it back. I wasn’t having a good day and they were just looking out.

Which one would you like more: kiss on cheek / kiss on neck? Depends on my mood. Right now a kiss on the cheek sounds nice.

Does it bother you when people steal your stuff on MySpace? This never happened to me because I had Myspace for such a short time and I never caught it at its peak. Also, how do people steal your stuff over there? That’s pretty intriguing lmao

Do you have freckles? Do you like / dislike them? I don’t have any.

Who would you say is the best actor / or actress in your opinion? My biased ass would rally for Kate Winslet all the way, but some other great ones for me are Toni Collette, Emma Stone, Jodie Foster, and Natalie Portman.

How many times have you been drunk in your life? Many.

What would you do if the last person you kissed said they hated you? Be confused and ask them to give me a few concrete reasons. I don’t think too highly of myself, but I know I’ve never done anything to make me deserving of hate, especially with regard to us.

Do you ever think you might be pregnant? No, it has never been a worry of mine.

When was the last time you acted really immature? The weekend.

Do you enjoy watching comedies or horror movies more? Horror. I never watch comedies and the only subtype of it that I watch is romcom.

As a child, did you ever have an imaginary friend? Yeah but it lasted all of five minutes until I got bored with the concept.

Does anyone call you baby? Who would that be? No.

Can you rely on one or more people to take up for you? I have no idea what take up means. If this also means ‘stand up for me,’ then yeah I can.

#survey #surveys

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zahrahzubaidah · 4 years ago

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What I Hate About My Country

I had this idea that if I make myself clear about what I dislike about my country that people would understand why I often speak so much about my experience living abroad. That I had the best time of my life when I was there and that it was the best decision I ever made to come to the UK to pursue my studies. Maybe by making a clear distinction between what I like and dislike about my country will help others to understand my choice better as well as myself.

I wrote the title just to capture the attention of those who read this. Hate is an extremely strong word I must say. It’s easier to say that you hate something than to love. It only takes one to experience something that puts them off completely, or to feel disgrace, or disagree about something one might not necessarily know about and that feeling of hate will surely arise. Whereas love is more abstract. It’s a thought, a philosophy, an idea that is hard to grasp.

I get asked by a lot of people from Indonesia why I decided t o return for now (regardless the circumstances are) after having spent so many years travelling and living abroad that seems like life “is so much better there”. Questioning my own choices in life, preferences, political views and my sensibility to why I decide to return. It seems like “our” country is in such a state of chaos right now that surely someone with their right mind would say living abroad may have been a better choice. So why do you choose to come back? I think what happened today as I went for an early morning walk might have answered this question I’ve been reflecting for a long time.

I went out to get some fresh air as I normally do. I was blessed with a nice sunny weather and quite chilly morning as it rained heavily the night before in Bandung, its the kind of weather that I am more accustomed to having lived in Scotland for a number of years. Before leaving the arena where I did a light jog, I stopped by to get some food to bring home. I got some Nasi kuning, Bandung classic breakfast. Cheap and tasty not to mention very filling. The lady gave me some extra perkedel. On my way home I stopped to get some surabi. I was Rp3000 short and I told her I will come back to get the money first. She just told me not to worry about it and come back whenever to pay the remaining. That is a simple gesture of kindness that I could only find in Indonesia. The sincerity is like nowhere else I have ever been to.

This story might be insignificant to some people but to me it means a lot. It gives me some answers to the question why I am still here. It put aside my attempt to look for reasons and all the things I don’t like about this country but rather be proud and content with my decision to be here. Ateast for now. This kind of generosity and kindness that the Indonesian people have is really different. It is not the like of helping someone open the doors or carry the luggage, it comes from a genuine place, a family like kindness and generosity. That you feel like a part of. Yes Indonesia’s dysfunctional government, to say the least, may have been an obvious source of anger and outrage amongst many people and justify one’s hatred for this country but doesn’t represent all the other great things that this country has to offer.

#indonesia #country #zahrahdiary #journal #journaling #writing #diary

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kshitij1997 · 5 years ago

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Chapter 8: Childhood, stories and role models

A late evening in Midsummer, 1825, Arendelle

King Agnarr's passion for books and stories was legendary. He had been collecting books since the age of five. He had books on all subjects, be it tales of ancient times, philosophy, nature, mathematics, the skies above, the sciences that dealt with the functioning of the world. Not to mention the private histories that he had collected of various people across the world. The lives o great people who lived centuries before him from lands as far as the hermit kingdom of Korea, the isolated lands of Japan, the protectorate of India and the Dutch East Indies (Modern day Indonesia). Stories that appealed to the greater good in all humanity.

Stories of Warlords like Yi Sun Shin, the naval commander who defeated a fleet of nearly five hundred enemy Japanese warships, with only twenty-three ships under his command, using the ingenious turtleships, a fighting vessel of war centuries ahead of its time, when the Japanese invaded in 1592 to 1598, even as he was being hunted down by his own master, the king. Stories of supreme courage to fight against all odds for your homeland, be it the enemy or your own government.

Then there were stories like that of Ashoka the Great, the ruthless emperor, warlord and warmonger whose name meant 'the one who never mourned', whose expansive policies brought all ancient India under his control, save for Kalinga. Said emperor was fair to his people and cruel to his enemies. Said usurper waged war against his hundred brothers when they were between him and the throne. Said conqueror vanquished the state of Kalinga when he declared war on Kalinga, where he was defeated even in victory. The cries of the mauled, dying and mourning forever left an impression on the emperor who hadn't known sorrow ever before in his life, who spent the rest of his life shunning conquest, embracing Buddhism, taking the path of non-violence and allowing his children to abandon their royal titles and become monks to spread the faith. Stories of war, conquest and eventual repentance, sacrifice, forgiveness and redemption.

Tales of extreme dedication and unbreakable vows, like the one taken by Gajah Mada, the Prime Minister of the empire of Majapahit, who swore not to touch spice and experience pleasure until all the Indonesian islands were under Majapahit's control. It took him twenty-one years, but he did it.

Tales of Kings, queens, warlords, soldiers and even a few common people with extraordinary fates.

King Agnarr felt proud to have such stories of such people from around the world. How throughout history, people face similar problems and situations and how they rise to face them. He felt even prouder when he realized that his wife Iduna also loved stories. But the proudest moment for him was when he found out that his children had an even greater passion for reading than him. Elsa and Olva were nearly inseparable, taking great joy in reciting their favourite stories and playacting their favourite characters. The fact that Olva had an almost academic interest in Elsa's ice powers was also found to be very charming by the king. She would often challenge Elsa to make something out of ice, usually a new word or name of an object she just learned, and Elsa usually rose to the occasion and made it as if it was second nature.

'How can you make that, Elsie?'

'I don't know Olba, it just came to me.'

'Is that what a pearl looks like, Pa?' Olva asked her father.

'I'm sorry sweetheart, but it doesn't.' Corrected the king. 'This is a pearl' Said the king as he showed the corner jewel of his ring.

Elsa's face fell as she realized her crystal of ice was not the right shape for a pearl.

Agnarr asked Olva 'Well little one, where did you hear the word?'

Olva replied sheepishly a book 'In this big book, it was the only word I could get.'

Agnarr laughed inwardly as he realised that his five-year-old and three-and-a-half-year-old kids had stumbled upon a book written in middle English. Olva helpfully guided him to the place where she had read the curious word. He read the sentence in all the middle English that he could remember, which was ample in this case. It was a beautiful sentence:

'The smooth pearl doesn't pretend to shine, for it knows that it is close to the heart.'

Agnarr smiled, my kids are too precious.

He sat alongside them and said ' Well Elsa, the shape may be off, but it is a pearl for sure. Your ice is close to you isn't it?'

Elsa replied with a small voice ' I think so?'

'Yes, it is! She makes pretty things all the time. She loves it.' Olva chimed in.

Elsa blushed with a small smile 'It is very pretty, and I like doing it, so I guess it is close to me.'

'It is close to both of us, it is a pearl to us.' Olva added as she hugged Elsa from behind. Elsa didn't admit it, but she loved a good hug. She also loved to mess with Olva at times. She waved her little hands over Olva's head and declared 'I name this: vanilla on black forest.'

'Hey! Not fair Elsie!' said Olva as she brushed the thin snow frosting from her dark brown hair.

'Bahahaha, it's so much fun messing with you.' Laughed Elsa even as Olva stuck her tongue out. Elsa responded in kind with a raspberry.

'Alright girls, calm down, ma's here.' Iduna said as she entered the royal chambers with princess Anna, who had just turned two years old, and was learning to speak her first words.

'Snow!' cried the baby princess as she held her head with both her tiny hands.

'Hey Anna!' Both Elsa and Olva chimed in unison as they were beside their baby sister in no time.

'Hey Anna, want to see something?' Elsa spoke to Anna, always one to ask even though Anna never said no to her.

Elsa waved her hands to form a ball of ice, but the difference was that it glowed with a luminescence of its own, as if she had tamed a star into her hands.

'Whoa! Elsie, that's beautiful' Olva said, clearly taken in by the glowing ball of ice.

'Mine!' cried Anna as she reached out to it with her baby hands. She tried to bite into it, alas she was not prepared for the cold.

'Ow!' She yelped and started crying, as the ball of ice fell to the floor and was smashed into a thousand little pieces.

'Oh no!' Elsa wailed as she grabbed Anna and proceeded to comfort her in her arms. Olva joined in and tried to coo her and made clicking sounds with her tongue to calm her down. Eventually the redhaired princess, a quality she had inherited from her father, managed to calm down and started giggling in Elsa's arms as tears of relief ebbed from Elsa's face.

'I'm so sorry Anna.' Elsa wept quietly, even as Olva had now started to comfort her.

'She's all right Elsa, it was just a little chill.' Olva reassured the platinum blonde.

The king and queen watched the scene play out from a small distance, curious to see how they would handle it. The princesses were all right in the end, the royal couple breathed a sigh of relief.

Agnarr's thoughts drifted back to when they had first gotten pregnant with Anna; Dr. Klaus had advised the king not to conceive so quickly after Olva's birth. However, with the deed done, the good doctor advised the king to go for a caesarean operation when the time of delivery came. The king was vary about the procedure at first, but Dr. Klaus had pacified him by saying that it would be easier and safer for both the queen and the doctor. So, the third child was born and named Anna by them together. Elsa and Olva were almost immediately taken in by their baby sister and made sure to always keep her happy and entertained and make her feel loved.

Iduna's thoughts were drifting too, albeit in a different direction. Sure, this was just a small accident, but who knew what could happen with Elsa's powers. She felt foolish in that moment; there was a time when she was comforting Agnarr in his moments of doubt, and now she felt the same fears, only much, much worse. She prayed to all the gods she knew to please let her children have a normal childhood. To not panic when in moment of vulnerability, to not abandon those who believed in her, not to give in to hate when the world was against her. How could her gifted, cursed child even begin to understand these things, much less take the correct decision when the situation arose?

Well, as her mother, she could cultivate a sense of responsibility in her eldest.

'Olva' Iduna called 'Today you and Anna shall sleep with Pa, Elsa will sleep with me.'

'Aw Ma why?' Anna asked even as Olva, who held her, was already snuggled beside her father.

'I need to talk with Elsa, she needs to know something. Good night.' The queen answered quietly. With that, she left the royal chambers to sleep in her own private quarters with Elsa.

'It's okay Anna, sleep with big sister Olva tonight' Olva said, then gave a small kiss on Anna's forehead as they both snuggled close to their father.

'Are you cross with Pa?' Elsa asked nervously when mother and daughter reached their chamber.

'No sweetheart' Iduna comforted her 'I'm here to tell you a story. I promised to tell you a story when you were ready, remember? Well, I think you're ready now.'

Elsa's face lit up as she remembered 'Oh yes! This should be fun! I'm ready.'

The little princess huddled to her mother's side as the duo settled in for the night.

'So, what's the story, Ma?'

'Well, this is a slightly different story than you are used to, little one. It isn't a story of magic; or of princesses being saved by their princes. No, this is a story of survival and sacrifice. The story of a woman who battled the world to protect her family, even if it cost her everything. It might be a story based on true events.'

'Oh, a true story?' Elsa perked up; true stories were a special occasion.

'Yes sweetheart' Iduna whispered.

Iduna proceeded to tell the story of a girl like Elsa, her real name lost to time. The girl was in her late teens, had powers over water and lived with her family in Avignon, France in the 14h century, at the height of pope Innocent the third's rule in the catholic church of Rome. One year, the rains had failed, and famine threatened follow, leading to peasants dying in the thousands from thirst and rising in protest. The girl stepped forward to help the needy, using her powers of water to help those in need and to improve the scene. The pope did not approve; this girl was going to spoil the carefully laid out narrative he had created to destroy the heretic cathars by citing the drought as god's fury. How dare that pipsqueak stand in his way? To discredit her, Innocent the third branded her as a witch, and sent the papal armies and inquisitors after her. The girl had anticipated this and advised her parents and her little brother to escape as quickly as they could. As fate would have it, she was captured and tortured for weeks on end, as the inquisitors wanted the whole family to be vanquished for the crime of nurturing a witch. But the girl held strong, as her family escaped the clutches of the pope away from France with a heavy heart, the girl was sentenced to burn at the stake. The girl went to her death quite bravely, but her screams as she burnt continued to haunt the memories of the local people for centuries afterwards and in time, the girl was canonized as saint Vida of Avignon. Her parents died from the grief, however her little brother survived and found himself in Arendelle. In due course of time, he became a powerful official, and his descendants went on to inherit the crown of Arendelle.

Elsa listened to the story in stunned silence, and once Iduna was finished with the story, she asked one question 'So the little brother is my great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather?'

'Yes, most likely.'

'I wonder what the girl felt as she died, did she feel sad or happy?' Elsa mused

'Why would she feel sad or happy, Elsa? I think she was very scared.'

'Alright, but was she sad or scared that she was going to die, or happy that she saved her family?'

'I think she felt both at the same time.'

'Can you feel sad and happy at the same time, Ma?' Elsa asked. Iduna began to worry that with questions like that, Elsa was not going to go to sleep. Maybe she chose the wrong story to tell?

'You will find out on your own someday, now close your eyes snowflake.'

As Elsa settled down to sleep, she murmured 'I think, if I was in her place, I would do the same.'

Iduna thought, god forbid should the day come, I fear you might have to.

Across the North Sea towards the south, in the Southern Isles

Queen Paulina was reeling with frustration and anger after another attempt at insurgency into Russia had failed. Her trusted aide, one she had personally broken bread with and had appointed in her service, had tried to poison prince Nicholas in order to prevent him from coming to the Russian throne. If it had gone to plan, the military man would die along with the aging emperor who himself was knocking on death's door, and prince Pokhilarpov, the weakling that he was, would be her puppet as Poland would come back to Europe. Alas it was not so, as her vassal had been intercepted and caught by the prince's private guard. At least he had the decency to poison himself to death before he could be questioned, so she was safe for now. Nevertheless, it was a source of anxiety and anger.

Queen Paulina was counting her losses and planning her next move when her son, prince Hans came running and crying to her. He was wet from head to toe, his fine tunic was tattered, and his face was swollen from the beating he had received in a scuffle, blood ebbing from his forehead. In his hand, he held a torn piece of paper that once had been a paper boat. 'Ma!' cried the young prince of five years of age 'Look at what they have done!'

'What are you crying about now?' Asked the exasperated queen. This boy needs toughening up, he never ceases to cry, the insufferable coward.

'I was near the pool, playing with the boat I made, when the triplets came and pushed me into the pool!' The prince wailed.

'And?' The queen asked.

'When I climbed out to fight them, they punched me in the face, tore my clothes and, and me boat.' The prince finished and started crying again.

'So instead of taking out an eye, you came running back to me? What are you going to do in life? Hmm?' Hissed the irritated queen 'I have bigger troubles to deal with than a squabble between toddlers.'

'Please, Ma. Help me' The prince begged as big tears rolled down.

'Not until you stop crying. Even then why should I help you? This is between you and the triplets. Ask help from your elder siblings if you're so desperate.'

'They hate me, I heard them say that they wished I was dead.'

'What?!' The queen screamed, it was not enough that she had enemies all over Europe, now she had these runts threatening her own child? 'Alright, stop crying, I'll take them to task.'

It was a heated conversation between king and queen when she badgered him in front of their children and ministers, in the imperial court. The king had always avoided conflict, so it was natural that he was severely outclassed by his determined wife.

'Please calm down, Paulina, I can't discuss this here. Please understand.' The king pleaded.

The queen would not back down this time 'I'm supposed to calm down?! When YOU've ignored your children and have failed to see that they are at each other's throats?! I'm supposed to care for decorum and understand your position, when YOU plan for an early grave, while your children are waiting to be let loose and go picnicking on each other?! You nurse snakes in your garden, and cry when you get bitten, who the fuck do you think you are?!' The impossibly irate queen finished her rebuke even as the king's officials and ministers quietly bid their leave.

'Please breathe sweetheart, are they not your children as well?' The king tried to pacify and prod his queen at the same time. A spectacularly poor decision on his part.

'My children?! If they were my children, they wouldn't ever dare say such things. Admit it, you are at your wit's end, aren't you? You don't know how to raise your own children anymore, do you? Looks like I'll have to deal with them personally.' The queen finished with a growl, implying dire consequences for those who had stirred her wrath.

The king was terrified. Of all his wives, she was the only woman who had reduced him to such a quivering, pathetic state. He was scared in general of her, but there were moments like these, when he was truly frightened of her. At one point, he was formidable, unbeatable, invincible. This woman had reduced him to a scraggy, whining fool. At one point in his life, he had known how to laugh, now all he knew was fear.

'No, Paulina, please do nothing of the sort, I'll talk to them personally, I promise.' The king pleaded with folded hands.

'You better do so, lest I strip these baboons myself and have them made into shoes.' The queen relented, in her own way.

Outside the courtroom, Janus was in a corner hearing everything with an expression of horror.

An island off Northern Cyprus, the Ottoman Empire

It was a curious place to be sure, the tower was black like obsidian glass, smack in the middle of the dense forest. Who thought a small island could have such a jungle? But the tower had a treacherous secret of its own; if anyone had tried to touch the stony tower in order to climb it, the unfortunate person was reduced to ash and powder in a matter of seconds. If anyone was lucky, they may leave a skeleton behind as a terrible warning to all. At one point the six-year-old girl living in the tower wanted to remove the bones, but her mother advised against it; she may catch a curse herself if she touched the remains. So, the little girl had little in the way of distraction; Maybe paint a bit, frolic around the castle for a bit, trying not to trip over her golden blonde hair even as her hair grew longer than her body, often using the same hair to bring back to life the young birds who had been killed while perching on the tower, while telling them to avoid her mother's vegetable patch.

She loved how the hair glowed like the sun when she read the incantation in her head. She enjoyed seeing the little birds wake up as if from a deep slumber, before flying away. She also loved taking care of the vegetable patch, feeling a great sense of pride when the land produced good legumes. But her mind always wandered back to the remains, how she felt that perhaps, the people lying there didn't deserve to die. Unknown to her mother, she had tried to bring the skeletons back to life, but she fainted, and all she saw was black. When she came to her senses, she found her mother holding her on by her bundle of hair for dear life, her face wet from tears.

It was then she understood, it was too late for them, and she had nearly died in the process of reviving them. Never again would she touch the remains.

All in all, it wasn't a bad life in the tower; she had everything she needed, a soft bed, good food, and materials for creating art. Once she found out how far her mother had to travel for said materials, she appreciated them even more. However, there was one thing that wasn't there in the tower.

The only thing she wanted, was to go outside the tower, to see the world, to get out of the tower. If she was to choose the day she wanted to go, it would be the day the people in the distance let loose thousands of lanterns every year. It was a special day for another reason, the lanterns always flew up on her birthday. Oh, to experience that in person!

She was broken from her thoughts when her mother called out 'Rapunzel! Time for lunch.' The owner of the voice was a dark-haired woman with exotic features, with eyes that revealed a life lived far longer than what the face showed.

The little girl responded 'Yes, Gothel.' It felt strange calling her mother by her name, but if she preferred it that way, who was she to complain?

Oh, this was a big one, I think.

We're getting close!

As always, feel free to tell me how you feel with regards to the story. Love it or hate it, please feel free in letting me know :D

Until next time.

#frozen #frozen elsa #frozen anna #frozen agnarr #frozen iduna #frozen fanfiction #frozen fanfic #frozen hans #hans frozen #frozen tangled #tangled fandom #tangled fanfiction #tangled #tangled rapunzel

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southeastasianists · 6 years ago

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How does the Indonesia AIDS Coalition engage with the LGBT community and the issues it faces? The Indonesia AIDS Coalition (IAC) has a vision of a country without stigma and discrimination, where rights of the key affected populations (KAPs) of HIV infection – such as LGBT persons, sex workers and those who inject drugs – are being recognised and fulfilled, especially the rights of access to health services. Our mission is to create a secure environment where KAPs can access health services. The LGBT community has been a significant member of KAP due to their sexual activities that are at high risk for HIV infection. We have many LGBT people on staff and we are close to the LGBT community and organisations. IAC’s three-year work plan includes programmes that support LGBT organisations by helping them organise and advocate for an LGBT-friendly environment.

The July 2018 Human Rights Report on anti-LGBT matters in Indonesia stated that “public health outreach to such populations has become far more difficult, making wider spread of the disease more likely.” This issue has been raised in numerous national HIV response programmes, and although the number of new HIV infections is not significantly increased, the fact that outreaching is becoming more difficult is putting the country at a very high risk.

The report says Indonesian anti-LGBT rhetoric began in 2016 and included a mayor warning mothers that instant noodles and formula make babies gay. Why did this “moral” panic begin when it did, and how do you educate people about the dangers of this rhetoric? LGBT issues have been here for a long time, but just recently became extremely visible. In addition to family pressures and bullying, LGBT in Indonesia now are facing persecution and criminalisation. I believe this was triggered by some power-hungry politicians who recognise the LGBT issue as a tool or easy target to increase their popularity, just as they use the religious issues. We have identified the power of media in spreading the rumours, so we are trying to use it to get the opposite result. We also keep doing advocacy works towards related stakeholders, all the while building a response mechanism to avert LGBT-related incidents.

Are HIV and AIDS organisations in Indonesia hindered in their efforts by this anti-LGBT movement? Do you have any allies in power? Very much so. Many LGBT activists and organisations started to work underground because of threats. These took us a few steps back because a well-built community is not as strong without the LGBT organisations. We have partnerships with the government and other international partners, but most of them are fully supportive on health-related issues only, while human rights violations are more complicated for them to intervene in, mainly because they are bound by their own laws and regulations.

What advice would you give LGBT Indonesians and gay-friendly establishments in navigating this hateful environment? How can people protect themselves? Be alert all the time, especially in conducting events and travelling. Keep in contact with a lawyer, and inform at least one friend before travelling anywhere. Be careful on social media and meeting strangers, especially social media acquaintances. Avoid holding or attending LGBT parties. Get educated on laws and regulations.

#Southeast Asia #Indonesia #HIV/AIDS #LGBTQIA Issues

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everydaydaniella · 6 years ago

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BATAM Fast Ferry

No big deal, I went to Indonesia for a quick spa day. The night before, while I was booking my spa, I also booked my BATAMFast Ferry roundtrip ticket to Sekupang, Indonesia which is on the Island of Batam- one of the 17,508* that make up the archipelago.

In the photo of the terminal gate (tiled floor with red arrows) you'll notice the taped queue lines. In Singapore lining up for stuff is VERY systematic. There are queue queues drawn out on floors of the MRT as well. In Singapore, you "Queue Up!" Apparently, it's pretty much the opposite in India. Sidarth of the Huffington post wrote an article and stated, "There is something about us Indians and queues. We seem to hate it ... do not be surprised if you suddenly find the person behind you breathing down your neck or his paunch offering your lower back a lumbar massage... in short, if you are not physically touching the person in front of you in any way, then you're not considered to be standing in the aforementioned queue." (source Huff Post) BUT anyways, enough about India.

Queuing up habits in Singapore are the same for all modes of transportation; however, permission to eat and drink vary. You CANNOT eat or drink on the MRT or in the MRT stations, but it's totally fine to do in the Ferry Gate and ON the Ferry. CCTV is always watching, even on ferries, so beware! Fyi, eating/drinking on the MRT can result in a $300+ fine.

-- *WIKI FACTS ABOUT INDO ISLANDS: The exact number of islands comprising Indonesia varies among definitions and sources. According to a geospatial survey conducted between 2007 and 2010 by Badan Koordinasi Survei dan Pemetaan Nasional (Bakorsurtanal), the National Coordinating Agency for Survey and Mapping, Indonesia has 13,466 islands.[3] However, according to earlier survey in 2002 by National Institute of Aeronautics and Space (LAPAN), the Indonesian archipelago has 18,307 islands, and according to the CIA World Factbook, there are 17,508 islands.[4] The discrepancy of the numbers of Indonesian islands was because that the earlier surveys include "tidal islands"; sandy cays and rocky reefs that appear during low tide and are submerged during high tide.[5] According to estimates made by the government of Indonesia 8,844 islands have been named, with 922 of those permanently inhabited.[6]

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abnahaya · 7 years ago

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toxic small talks

Before we get to the the point, let me tell you the context of this post. So, it's a holiday season in Indonesia, Eid Al Fitr and school holiday happen at the same time, plus the government decide to give longer public holidays this year. This situation causes people to travel to their hometowns; and for us Indonesians, hometown sometimes doesn't actually mean a town, mostly it's a place(s) where our family (the big one) is originated from; so yes, it can be more than just one place. In this occasion, we are expected to reunite with our, once again, big families in order to tighten the family bond. I've been talking with my friends and also reading on the internet about this back-to-home ground experiences, and not very surprisingly, I find a lot of things in common; or should I say one big common in many forms. Annoyance, uncomfort, sometimes ill-manner which leads to the concern of the needs of new approach in small talks.

So far, I can only think of two general types of common small talks in Indonesia, specially in the family gathering context:

The Infamous "When are you getting married?" & Similar Nosy Questions

I am currently on the age when people worry so much if a person, especially a woman, doesn't have any marriage-oriented-steady relationship yet. However, even if someone is already in such relationship but not yet determine any kind of wedding plan, it's still a no-no. Marriage has long been set as a huge standard of (one of) the life goals in Indonesia, again, women are usually suffer more on this matter–because they have an expiry date, they say. It's a common knowledge that everyone my age going to their hometowns are going to be welcomed by the question of "when are you getting married?"

Note: This question usually has follow-ups or subtitutes when it is felt not challenging enough, such as: "When will you finish your study?"; "When are you getting a job?"; "When are you having kids?"; "Will there be a wedding party?"; "Don't forget to invite me on the wedding day!"; "Please send my uniform ASAP"; etc.

Normalised Sexism/Racism/Colourism/Body-shaming Comments.

I am just gonna list the most asked questions/accusations directed personally to me:

Why do you look darker?

You gain weight!

You used to date Chinese guys, how come you end up with a Caucasian?

God, not more tattoos...

Why do you dye your hair like that?

You look like a bad girl (geez, thanks!)

Girls are not supposed to...

etc

I am getting married next year, so I thought I can go through this year's gathering in a more relaxed way. But of course, there is still the second type of small talks. And you know what, I don't think anyone ever gonna pass through.

People are ranting about these small talks. But why? Aren't they supposed to mean that people (in this case, your family) care about you?

Well, first of all:

Which roughly translated: you never actually care about my whole story and reasons I do things, never once check up on how I'm doing, and probably will talk shit behind my back–DON'T TALK TO ME AS IF IT'S FINE TO DIG INTO PERSONAL ISSUES CAREFREELY AND JUDGE THEM.

And it is personal. It's not a fucking joke. Don't tell me to chillax and just ignore the question of I don't want to answer them–because in the end they're gonna keep asking when there's no satisfying answer given. Let alone suggesting me to compromise with them and stop writing this post. Bitch, I gotta rant somewhere!

In other words, it is not a matter of the small talk, it is about the true intention of the entire small talk itself.

Seriously, let's think back with rational thoughts: why did people create small talks? To make it less awkward between two people whom barely know each other. Think of it as two random strangers stuck in an elevator and try to break the silence, I'm pretty sure asking about their status or judging their physical looks would help breaking the ice. Now go back to present day and imagine the context of two distant relatives whom never see or talk to each other for a long time, why would it be "normal" to do it?

So yeah, you should know why me and the rest of the so-called snowflake generation are pissed with this kind of small talks: because they are not small at all! Small talks are supposed to be light questions, the ones you can answer without hesitation, too much thinking, and bring the sense of not-so-alone between the speakers. Yes, they sound silly and like, why would people do that? Newsflash, not everyone follows your instagram to know that you're so into the newest single of Maroon 5 or that you recently go to a vacation–therefore we do the small talks first.

First is the keyword, if the small talks goes well, you may as well proceed to a deeper discussion, such as when I am getting married. Oh I certainly will gladly tell my love story to anyone who genuinely care, not to someone who will probably forget about it the next day cause it doesn't matter anyway. Let people choose what they want to tell you about their life, let them be comfortable; because by then you won't only listen to their story, but also learn about them.

Like, why satisfied by forcing someone to answer about when they are getting married when you can learn how their parents' broken marriage failed her faith in marriage and lead her to choose not getting married? I personally would choose the second one because by then I would be able to understand her more and therefore, know how to treat her as a dear friend.

Unless of course, when you're too comfortable being ignorant. Or an asshole.

On another note, these misplaced-not so small talks are becoming more and more toxic as people keeps slipping personal intentions and unwanted opinions. Sadly, this happen so often that it is considered "normal" and "harmless", even "motivating"; so that it encourages people to keep doing it, even unconciously.

One of an Indonesian feminist influencer that I followed on instagram wrote that she hated body-shaming comments (that she received from her relatives during family gatherings) because at some points of her life, she can possibly do the same thing just to make her feel better about herself and in the end it would just hurt each other's feelings. –exactly!

I mean, come on it's 2018 and we all know that sexism/racism/colourism/body shaming is not cool.

It leaves us to the last question: what's next?

Cynical people would say that we're being too naggy and emotional. That we can't have fun and just laugh shits off because it isn't that serious. Or is it?

I think there are 4 things we can do to deal with toxic small talks:

Do actual small talks: the ones so trivial you feel like you don't need to ask, but ask anyway. And go further from there. You don't know if someone really needs to be asked about how they are doing or not. If the other person is interested enough in you to build deeper conversation, they will eventually tell things about them.

Start telling about yourself first. Talk about the things you want them to know about you. See if they can open up after you do, because maybe they don't want to feel like the only one being vulnerable. Afterall, this is a conversation, not a job interview.

Tell someone if they are crossing the privacy line. You have the right and freedom to limit your circle, your personal info, and so on; but others might have different measurements, so make sure they know yours.

If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything. I know, when we meet someone who is so much different than us, a lot of things sounds stupid. Keep it to yourself, or else it's pretty much gonna be the same cycle of toxic talks.

I have a confession: I haven't been able to apply all four perfectly. In fact, I kept silent A LOT when my family do the toxic talks towards me (and then rant about it on twitter, lol!), just because I don't want to be involved in long, endless and tiring debate with them. Sometimes, I am also still hurt when my friends make fun of my body weight but talking back at them are not always as easy.

If you do, too. That's totally okay.

We all gotta start somewhere. This world is already so cruel to you and you don't need to make it worse. Just so you know, once you apply that, you're gonna be proud of yourself because there–you just made one positive contribution to create a kinder world for the future generations. You'll get used to it.

I know right, social interactions are sooo interesting. LOL

You'll be okay, I just detoxified you ;)

#bananayue #small talks #toxic #bad habit #life hacks #social #truth

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