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sorrowfulrosebud · 2 years ago

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The Lone Wolf (again…)

Wolf! Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

Contents: in which Wolf! Katsuki royally fucks up

Genre: extreme angst

CW: this is a very dark fanfic so I can’t really put the tws without spoiling the story. I’ll try my best anyway. TWS for blood, neglect, death and etc.

This is for @vampyrsm s collaboration! I’m sorry it took so long but it’s finally here! It can also be considered an alternative AU for my papa wolf series and can be read as a stand-alone piece.

“I’m leaving you”.

These were the words that made you stop scrubbing the dishes in the basin as the muscular frame of your mate stood unbreakably behind you. Your brows furrowed at the proclamation, wondering where the hell it had come from.

You had had a slight idea that he was unhappy, being more growly and quick to trigger than usual, but you had just assumed that he was nearing his rut again. Determined to see what he had to say, you stood your ground and remained facing the stone basin. The slight trembling in your hand informed Bakugou that you had indeed heard what he had sprung on you and took your silence as a means of continuing his speech.

“I’m getting soft and weak, for god’s sake. I’m a wolf, not some sort of damn domesticated house pet that you can play with whenever you feel like it. I can feel it that staying here is making me lose my edge, and what kind of wolf would stay with some sort of weak little human like you, huh? The very idea would have you slaughtered in my pack for acting like a domesticated pet,” Bakugou spat. The way he borderline snarled the word made it seem like it was some sort of dirty slur.

But I suppose, when you are forcefully ripped from one lifestyle and thrown into another, you’re bound to feel shaken up. That’s the strange thing though. The last year and a half of your life after meeting him was the best time of your life, and judging from the endless belly rubs, walks in the woods and helping him through his ruts, you were certain he had the same feelings for you as you did him.

==================================

The way you had met was less than conventional; when checking your rabbit traps and snares in the forest, you had found Bakugou muzzled, naked and chained by a collar to one of the thickest trees with a huge gaping wound slicing his Achille’s tendon to prevent him from running away. (Not that he could have to begin with. You figured that it was to add insult to quite literal injuries).

As a twig snapped under your hunting boots, the thrashing of the chain ceased as carmine eyes pored into yours. You were mesmerised by how a well-sculpted man could seem so animalistic until you were able properly see the well hidden ash blonde ears tucked in with the rest of his hair and with a quick swish, you were also notified of a fluffy tail being raised on alert. A sharp snarl pierced the air as Bakugou tried lunging at you, secretly dying internally from the horrible humiliation of someone from the species he’s mortal enemies with seeing him in such a disgusting manner.

In Bakugou’s pack (as he explained to you), being even remotely associated with humans would mean that you were the lowest of the low; a domesticated dog who would do cheap tricks for their master. Bakugou had been found sneaking off to the local human village to observe how humans function as a society, to study what they eat, how they take care of their young and how they farm crops. The leaders of the pack (his parents) decided that the punishment should fit the crime:

First, the traitor would be stripped naked as a symbol of stripping their morals for the enemy

Next, the heels would be sliced open to prevent any further disloyalty to the traitor’s new master by running away after the disloyalty for the pack was displayed

Then the traitor would be muzzled since it is a reflection of the biggest rule in the pack: NEVER SPEAK TO A HUMAN

The most humiliating thing was next. The traitor would be collared and leashed to a tree in hunter territory since acting like a pet means that you get treated like a pet, much like a dog being chained to a kennel. If the traitor loves humans so much, they can see how much they enjoy being skinned for their fur and having their teeth torn out for jewellery.

Eager to help the handsome stranger that you found, you raised your arms in peace and ambled slowly in front of him. You were EXTREMELY aware of his claws so you sat a good three feet away. Bakugou couldn’t deny that he was intrigued by your actions; he was still highly on guard but most hunters would have raced away for a spear or bow and arrow to put him out of his misery. With a small smile, you had introduced yourself to him to try to establish some sort of relationship, only to be met with an annoyed growl and chuff of his breath. In an instant you totally remembered that he was naked and rootled through your bag for a spare pair of hunting trousers that you carried. Your soft hands held them out to Bakugou to see if he wanted them instead of sitting there with his whole body on show.

Bakugou made no move to grab them from you, thinking that you had doused them in chloroform or some other drug that would seduce him to sleep. Instead, he just glared at you with intense eyes. The yanking on the chain had stopped completely as he studied you ferociously.

“Go on, you can take them! I can’t guarantee that they’ll fit you but I’m sure it’s better than sitting out here naked and covered in your own blood,” you offered with a gentle smile. Katsuki glowered at you as you set them down for him and turned your back so he could change himself.

Internally, Katsuki was in two minds; accept the clothes and kill you at any point in time if you threatened him, or sit here bound and helpless for god knows how long…

Katsuki growled as the fabric temporarily dug into his bleeding heels. He eventually managed to shimmy them up his legs, toned calves strained against the fabric due to their size.

“Are you done? Can I turn around right now?” You asked him politely. Katsuki let out an annoyed growl at your question, but you took it as a yes. You turned back around, borderline chuckling at the size of your trousers on Katsuki’s lower half before immediately being shut up with an angered glare.

“Okay, I’m sorry. Now you’re going to have to stay still whilst I-” you fumbled in your pocket for a knife, the silver blade glinting in the sun.

You only just managed to avoid the swiping of claws against your skin as Katsuki lunged for you, hackles raised and sandy ears pulled taunt against his head. Your fingertips pressed against the wound and you audibly winced at the amount of blood; even though he nicked you, there was still 4 big slits in the side of your tunic.

“Fuck, shit that hurts! What the actual fucking hell, asshole?!” You yelled at him, “I was going to unlock the muzzle around your mouth!”

Katsuki still growls, but his ears go back to normal. His entire body feels so… sluggish.

“Woah, hey are you okay?” Your face donned a worried look as the adrenaline of his night finally floated away from him and he slumped unceremoniously at your legs.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The pops and crackling of the toasty fire surrounded Katsuki’s senses as he finally started the descent out of sleep. He had no fucking clue where he was; there were certainly no soft couches back in his cave, nor were there little carved woodworks of various woodland creatures.

A soft humming could be heard from what Katsuki would assume to have been the kitchen. You entered Katsuki’s eyesight with a carefully balanced tray of stew (lamb by the small of it), and placed it carefully on the oak coffee table next to your plush couch. Katsuki shot up from the couch, snarl in his throat, ears all the way back and hackles raised as you raised your hands once again.

“Hey, relax, please! I’m not going to do anything, I swear! I just wanted to make sure you’re alright. You passed out on me in the woods, so I took you back to my house to clean your wounds and feed you,” you lowered your hands to your waist and looked at Katsuki for his reaction. His ears slowly went back to their original position, the glint from his fangs could still be seen. His breathing was harsh, toned pecs heaving in his fear rage.

He slowly reached for the bowl of stew before sniffing it.

Well, it doesn’t smell poisoned. He thought. Might as well eat some, I’m fucking starving.

He tucked in with hesitation, but as soon as the first bite of juicy lamb hit his tongue, the bowl was next to empty. You stood dazed at how fast he consumed the bowl before offering your hand out to him. Katsuki immediately shrank back on the couch.

“Woah, I just wanted to know if you wanted seconds? You’re obviously hungry and there’s plenty more in the pot if you want some,” you spoke gently to him, almost like he was a pup, or a wild animal. Katsuki clearly thought for a second before shoving the bowl in your chest with an annoyed huff. You smiled at him widely before trotting back into the kitchen.

It suddenly dawned on him that he didn’t have any extra heaviness from that damned collar on his neck, and upon further inspection, you actually had stitched up the gaping wounds on his ankles. He still wore the trousers you had gifted him, so he was at least quietly grateful that you granted him privacy.

Well. This is going to be one hell of a summer.

=================================

“Katsuki, what the hell do you mean? You’re leaving?? When did you decide this?!” You turned around to face him properly and were instantly met with an annoyed expression.

“It doesn’t matter when I decided it, I’m fucking leaving and there’s nothing you can do about it!” He snarled at you. Deep inside, he loved you more than anything he could ever think of. He wanted to be your mate for his entire life, to wake up with you every morning and maybe if you would let him, indulge in his fantasy of having a few pups of your own. Alas, he had heard rumours around the village about a group of werewolves terrorising the local village’s cattle and he desperately wanted to see his old pack again.

“But Katsuki, please think about it! Where would you go?! You know that if your old pack were to see you again, they are more likely inclined to kill you!” You shouted at him, face crumpled up in tears.

“No they fucking wouldn’t, my pack respected and adored me! I just put my own personal interests before the safety of my pack, and that got me landed here in this shitty fucking cabin with you. A filthy human who would probably sell me to a hunter the minute I started acting like a true wolf,” he snapped back, his eyes dilating to pin pricks in his anger. Your own eyes glared back at him with tears delicately lacing your lash line.

“They. Fucking. Left. You. For. Dead. You went against your pack, and your PARENTS of all fucking people decided that they would slice their own fucking SON and LEAVE HIM FOR DEAD! I have done nothing but take care of you, through each of your ruts, each full moon, I EVEN FUCKING NURSED YOU BACK TO HEALTH.

DAY AND FUCKING NIGHT, I WAS AT YOUR SIDE HELPING YOU TO WALK AGAIN! EVERY INJURY YOU EVER HAD, I WAS THERE TO CLEAN UP AND KISS. SO DON’T YOU EVER FUCKING DARE SAY THAT I’M JUST SOME STUPID FUCKING HUMAN WHEN I WAS MORE OF A PACK TO YOU THAN YOUR OWN FAMILY!” The words were spewing like venom at this point, you couldn’t fucking breath and the tears were pouring down your face thick and fast. In an instant, Katsuki had a death grip on your wrist, carmine eyes reduced to slits and his ears were flat against his head.

“Don’t. You. Ever. Disrespect my fucking pack again. Y’know, my pack was right. Humans do nothing but brainwash you into domestic shit. This was a mistake from the start,” he spat maliciously. His claws were digging deep into your wrist, making your face screw up in pain.

“K-Katsuki, let go! You’re hurting me!” You sobbed as you tried to pry him off. It wasn’t until the smell of blood hit his nose that Katsuki realised that he had actually hurt you. With a cry of pain, you clutched your bleeding wrist to your chest. The red stained your shirt a violent colour.

Katsuki could feel his rage ebb away and was slowly being replaced by worry.

“Woah, hey are you ok-“ he tries before you flinch away from him, hitting your back against the sink behind you in an attempt to get away. Your whimpers physically hurt him in ways he never knew existed.

“Hey, don’t push me away! I’m trying to see-“ he tries again before you finally turn to him and his heart breaks further at your teary face.

This was such a stupid fucking thought, he was so fucking stupid, why the hell would he leave you for his old pack?! Katsuki finally reflected on your words before his blood felt like ice. Why would he say such awful things to you to try to prove to an old pack who left him for dead?!

“Baby, please, I want to help,” he borderline whimpers, ears twitching dolefully. Your face screwed up in anger before you stood at your full height.

“You want to leave you fucking bastard, then leave. I’m not going to fucking stop you. I hope your pack was fucking worth the one person who stuck with you these last few years. Now, get the fuck out of my house.” You snarled lowly, eyebrows furrowed in pain. Katsuki reached out for you with a trembling hand before you started borderline shrieking.

“GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE BEFORE I CALL THE DAMNED HUNTERS TO SKIN YOU ALIVE!”

Katsuki had never felt so low in his entire life. You started swaying in your rage, trying to shoo him away. He let out a whimper as he looked at you one last time before fleeing out of the house, your screams of pain and fear ringing in his head.

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1 year later…

Katsuki was miserable. Utterly, and purely miserable. He had found his old pack, and for a moment that had hope flutter through his stomach. Until of course, as you predicted, they tried to kill him for his betrayal (and the fact that he still stank of human).

Slurs of “pet” could be heard through the snarls as Katsuki had narrowly avoided claws and fangs, before tumbling down a hill and running for his life. It was against his morals to do so but he couldn’t face losing another family.

For the past year, Katsuki had tried making his own way of life; finding a small cave further into the mountain range near your cabin and stealing from the local village for meats and blankets. He made his own new home, but it didn’t feel the same without you whatsoever.

He missed you. He missed your sleepy smiles, he missed your stupid little jokes, he missed kissing you awake on Sunday mornings, he missed… you. Every night, his hands loosen the thick red collar you had given him as a joke and thumbed it carefully. Trembling hands caress the leather as small tear stains plop onto it and whimpers reverberate around his cave. It may have started as a joke, but he never took it off even after you threw him out, only to lament painfully on his regret. Most nights he substituted your soft body for his tail, clinging on to it until it hurt.

He hadn’t seen you for a year. 365 days without your cuddles, belly rubs, gentle kisses and warm smiles. Katsuki could feel himself going mad, so he made a decision.

He was going to apologise.

==================================

Katsuki checked his appearance in a puddle that had accumulated in his cave; his hair was somewhat kept better, his ears and tail were freshly groomed and he held a large bouquet of wild flowers he found in a field.

Katsuki let out a shaky breath before hardening his face.

“I just have to show her how much she really means to me. I can��t- I can’t be without her.”

And so he began the trek to your cabin.

==================================

He began to walk at dusk; it gave him a cloak of protection from hunters, plus you would be really surprised. It only took him about half an hour to find your cabin tucked snugly in the back of the woods. But the sight before him made his blood feel like ice.

The door was absolutely shredded. Large claw marks had sliced the door to oblivion, as well as the surrounding walls. Even though it was almost as thick as the trees that the wood came from, it was nearly folded in half and torn off its hinges.

Bile raised in his throat. As did his hackles.

“(Y/N?)” he tried anxiously.

No answer. However, he detected a new smell.

Blood.

He crept behind the door, immediately on high alert. Whatever did this was not fucking human.

His heart lurched dramatically at the state of your home; all of your belongings were either torn to shreds or thrown across your floors. Carpets were torn up, pillows shredded, curtains torn from their windows.

“(Y/N)! I’m not fucking joking, if you’re there then say something!” He yelled through the house. Fluffy ears twitched intensely, desperate to hear some call of validation. He was frightened absolutely shitless. The only other time he had felt so afraid was the day he lost you.

Creak…

Katsuki pinpointed the noise to upstairs. All survival instincts flew out of the window as he bolted up the stairs, only thing on his mind was to ensure your safety. He nearly fell down a few steps before reaching what was your shared bedroom.

The bile actually came out.

Your bedroom door was identical to the one downstairs; torn to shreds and laid in pieces on the ground. The soft blankets that laid on your bed had gigantic claw marks slicing through them, all the way down to your thick mattress.

Again, your curtains were brutally ripped off the window. The window itself had been smashed, shiny fragments glittering across the entirety of the room. Katsuki stepped lightly on the floor, the smell of blood poisoning his sensitive nostrils.

It was the strongest in your bedroom and-

“Oh my fucking god, no.”

Strewn like a rag doll, mangled on the floor in an inhumane position was

you.

The exact same slices on your door were buried deep into your stomach and neck. Thick, red torrents of blood seeped from your body and deep into the wooden floor. Your eyes had completely glazed over, staring back at him with gray.

Tears had crept down your face in your last few moments; Katsuki could smell the salt on your face.

“B-baby? Oh my fucking god, please no!” He screamed brokenly into your corpse. His tears dampened the dress you were wearing (the same one you wore when he tore your heart from its chest). All Katsuki could do was scream in pure, unfiltered pain at the loss of his love.

Memories of you both flittered through Katsuki’s mind. Mornings where the sunlight trickled into your bedroom as he studied your face sleepily. Memories of the sweet and shy kisses, of lazy summer days, of comfort from agonising nightmares all cursed Katsuki as he mourned your death.

He truly had nothing now. No family. No friends. No you.

So, Katsuki did the only thing his paralysed mind could think of; the same claws that scarred your wrist brought hell down on his neck, his claws shredding his gullet within seconds.

Katsuki coughed, once, twice before the metallic tang of blood seeped into his mouth and seeped down his face in buckets. Not that he could see before due to the tears in his eyes, but the quickening of the blood down his body reduced his vision greatly, black spots already swimming in and out of his peripheral.

He only managed to sink down beside you, wanting his last dying moments to be beside the very person that made him happy. The very person who changed his life. The very person who’s life he had ruined.

Through the tears, Katsuki nestled his head close to you, tears dripping on to your wounds as he found it increasingly difficult to breath. He gasped unconsciously for breath as he tried to grip on to you, feeling scared of his descent into death. As long as you were there, he would follow you and plead for forgiveness.

He started to feel content.

‘I- I’m so sorry. I’m coming,’ he thought. His face rested on your shoulder as his body started to shut down completely.

But it wasn’t until his final breath did his eyes shoot open one last time at the sound of the four small whimpers across the room.

“D-daddy?”

#bnha x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou #hybrid bnha #wolf bakugou x reader #bakugou angst #wolf Bakugou #Wolf Bakugou angst #hoo boy this took months #hybrid bnha x reader #papa wolf katsuki #major tw #bnha x reader angst #MHA x reader angst

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hauntingsofafuturespast · 9 months ago

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Temporary death experiences.

youtube

Jeffrey Mishlove, PhD - A Lifetime of Studying the Paranormal

What is an NDE?

A near-death experience (NDE) is typically a profound, life changing, intensely emotional experience that usually occurs during a clinical crisis and has common characteristics and aftereffects. It is not a dream, hallucination, or mental illness (Greyson, 1983). There are no predictive variables to identify who will have an NDE. They happen to people of all ages, religions, socio-economic groups, cultures, educational backgrounds, and belief systems. They occur under a variety of circumstances such as accidents, near-drownings, illnesses, combat, surgical procedures, and childbirth. Following an NDE, experiencers (NDErs) often display some common aftereffects. Research has established a set of common NDE characteristics and long-term aftereffects. Theories used to explain near-death experiences in purely physical terms have been proven inadequate by NDE researchers and others.

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sataniccapitalist · 10 months ago

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#thewaronyou

Another winter of death is now unfolding in the United States and across the Northern Hemisphere as the JN.1 variant of the coronavirus continues to surge globally. Wastewater data from the United States released Tuesday indicate that upwards of 2 million people are now being infected with COVID-19 each day, amid the second-biggest wave of mass infection since the pandemic began, eclipsed only by the initial wave of the Omicron variant during the winter of 2021-22.

There are now reports on social media of hospitals being slammed with COVID patients across the US, Canada and Europe. At a growing number of hospitals, waiting rooms are overflowing, emergency rooms and ICUs are at or near capacity, and ambulances are being turned away or forced to wait for hours to drop off their patients.

According to official figures, COVID-19 hospitalizations in Charlotte, North Carolina are now at their highest levels of the entire pandemic. In Toronto, Dr. Michael Howlett, president of the Canadian Association of Emergency Physicians, told City News, “I’ve worked in emergency departments since 1987, and it’s by far the worst it’s ever been. It’s not even close.” He added, “We’ve got people dying in waiting rooms because we don’t have a place to put them. People being resuscitated on an ambulance stretcher or a floor.”

Dr. Joseph Khabbaza, a pulmonary and critical care specialist at the Cleveland Clinic, told the Today Show website: “The current strain right now seems to be packing a meaner punch than the prior strains. Some features of the current circulating strain probably (make it) a little bit more virulent and pathogenic, making people sicker than prior (variants).”

Indeed, two recent studies indicate that JN.1 more efficiently infects cells in the lower lung, a trait that existed in pre-Omicron strains which were considered more deadly. One study from researchers in Germany and France noted that BA.2.86, the variant nicknamed “Pirola” from which JN.1 evolved, “has regained a trait characteristic of early SARS-CoV-2 lineages: robust lung cell entry. The variant might constitute an elevated health threat as compared to previous Omicron sublineages.”https://www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/1MGIQxPf0Ig?rel=0An appeal from David North: Donate to the WSWS todayWatch the video message from WSWS International Editorial Board Chairman David North.DONATE TODAY

The toll on human life from the ongoing wave of mass infection is enormous. It is estimated that one-third of the American population, or over 100 million human beings, will contract COVID-19 during just the current wave. This will likely result in tens of thousands of deaths, many of which will not be properly logged due to the dismantling of COVID-19 testing and data reporting systems in the US. When The Economist last updated its tracker of excess deaths on November 18—before the JN.1 wave began—the cumulative death toll stood at 27.4 million, and nearly 5,000 people were continuing to die each day worldwide.

The current wave will also induce further mass suffering from Long COVID, which has been well known since 2020 to cause a multitude of lingering and often debilitating effects. Just last week, a pre-print study was published in Nature Portfolio showing that COVID-19 infection can cause brain damage akin to aging 20 years. The consequences are mental deficits that induce depression, reduced ability to handle intense emotions, lowered attention span, and impaired ability to retain information.

Other research indicates that the virus can attack the heart, the immune system, digestion and essentially every other critical bodily function. The initial symptoms of COVID-19 might resemble those of the flu, but the reality is that the virus can affect nearly every organ in the body and can do so for years after the initial infection. While vaccination slightly reduces the risks of Long COVID, the full impact of the virus will be felt for generations.

The latest winter wave of infections and hospitalizations takes place just eight months after the World Health Organization (WHO) and the Biden administration ended their COVID-19 public health emergency (PHE) declarations without any scientific justification. This initiated the wholesale scrapping of all official response to the pandemic, giving the virus free rein to infect the entire global population ad infinitum.

A virtual blackout of any mention of the coronavirus in the corporate media accompanied the swan song of official reporting. From then on, if illnesses at hospitals or among public figures were referenced at all, it was always with the euphemism “respiratory illness.” The words COVID, coronavirus and pandemic have been all but blacklisted, and the facts about the dangers of the disease have been actively suppressed.

Summarizing the cumulative results of this global assault on public health, the WSWS International Editorial Board wrote in its New Year 2024 statement:

All facts and data surrounding the present state of the pandemic are concealed from the global population, which has instead been subjected to unending lies, gaslighting and propaganda, now shrouded in a veil of silence. There is a systematic cover-up of the real gravity of the crisis, enforced by the government, the corporations, the media and the trade union bureaucracies. Official policy has devolved into simply ignoring, denying and falsifying the reality of the pandemic, no matter what the consequences, as millions are sickened and thousands die globally every day.

In response to the latest wastewater data, there have only been a handful of news articles, most of which have sought to downplay the severity of the current wave and largely ignored the deepening crisis in hospitals.

The official blackout has given rise to an extraordinary contradiction in social life. The reality of mass infection means that everyone knows a friend, neighbor, family member or coworker who is currently or was recently sick, or even hospitalized or killed, by COVID-19. Yet the unrelenting pressure to dismiss the danger of the pandemic means that shopping centers, supermarkets, workplaces and even doctor’s offices and hospitals are full of people not taking the basic and simple precaution of masking to protect themselves. Every visit outside one’s home carries the risk of being infected, with unknown long-term consequences.

As the pandemic enters its fifth year, it is critical to draw the lessons of this world historical experience. The past four years have demonstrated unequivocally that capitalist governments are both unwilling and incapable of fighting this disease. Their primary concern has always been to ensure the unabated accumulation of profits by corporations, no matter the cost in human lives and health.

The real solution to the coronavirus is not to ignore it, but to develop a campaign of elimination and eradication of the virus worldwide. To do so requires the implementation of mask mandates, mass testing and contact tracing, as well as the installation of updated ventilation systems and the safe deployment of Far-UVC technology to halt the spread of the virus. The resources for this global public health program must be expropriated from the banks and financial institutions, which are responsible for the mass suffering wrought by the pandemic.

All of these measures cut directly across the profit motive and the real disease of society: capitalism. As such, the struggle against the coronavirus is not primarily medical or scientific, but political and social. The international working class must be educated on the real dangers of the pandemic and mobilized to simultaneously stop the spread of the disease and put an end to the underlying social order that propagates mass death. This must be developed as a revolutionary struggle to establish world socialism.

#the enemy is strong #protect yourself #protect your family

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fatehbaz · 2 years ago

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Razak Iyal and Seidu Mohammed recently celebrated becoming Canadian citizens. Their stories have been intertwined since they crossed the Canada-United States border to seek asylum near Emerson, Manitoba, on Christmas eve of 2016. Their lives nearly ended on that frigid night at the side of a rural road.

The two men survived but both lost all their fingers to frostbite.

Others have not survived. On March 31 [2023], two families perished at the Quebec-US border, including an infant and a three-year-old.

Stories like Razak and Seidu’s have captured intense political and public attention in Canada.

Why aren’t people going to official ports of entry?

The answer is that the law, specifically the Safe Third Country Agreement (STCA) between the US and Canada, deters people from using official border entry points because they will be turned away and denied the opportunity to make a refugee claim. Canada has acknowledged these crossings by erecting pop-up border stations like one at Roxham Road, facilitating the movement of migrants. Quebec’s premier and main opposition leader have called for this makeshift port of entry to be shut down. And now, as part of US President Joe Biden’s recent visit to Canada, the two countries have decided to do just that, under a renegotiated STCA that came into effect starting midnight on Friday, March 24 [2023].

Now anyone crossing any point of the Canada-US land border to make a refugee claim will be turned away.

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They will not be able to make a refugee claim and will be sent back to the US side of the border.

Until now, this agreement only applied at official land ports of entry which pushed people seeking asylum to cross at unofficial points and made the remote Roxham Road that dead-ends at the boundary line between Hemmingford, Quebec, and Champlain, New York, a legal and well-travelled option.

The newly expanded STCA now applies across the entire Canada-US land border, including areas between official ports of entry and certain bodies of water. Anyone making an asylum claim within 14 days of crossing without authorisation or valid immigration status will be brought back to a US port of entry and excluded from being able to make a claim in Canada. [...]

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Advocates argued that the agreement not only infringes migrants’ rights under the Charter of Rights and Freedoms, but also violates Canada’s international legal obligations under the 1951 Refugee Convention [...]. Rather than suspending the agreement as many refugees and their advocates have long called for, the Canadian government has instead expanded it even though its legality is in question. [...]

How many deaths and other casualties of the STCA will it take before Canada reconsiders its reliance on increasingly restrictive and short-sighted policies? For the answer is blowing in the frigid wind along the US-Canada border: the Safe Third Country Agreement offers no real safety [...].

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Text by: Jamie Liew, Petra Molnar, and Julie Young. “The new US-Canada border deal is inhumane - and deadly.” Al Jazeera. 19 April 2023. [Bold emphasis and some paragraph breaks/contractions added by me.] Liew is a lawyer and associate professor at University of Ottawa. Molnar is associate director of the Refugee Law Lab. Young is Canada Research Chair in Critical Border Studies and assistant professor in Department of Geography and Environment at University of Lethbridge.

A summary, from elsewhere:

The deal, which the Canadian government said would come into effect early on Saturday [25 March 2023], effectively extends the so-called Safe Third Country Agreement (STCA) to the entire US-Canada border. “The United States and Canada will work together to discourage unlawful border crossings and fully implement the updated Safe Third Country Agreement,” US President Joe Biden said during an address to the Canadian parliament in Ottawa on Friday afternoon. But human rights groups said the move will not deter refugees and asylum seekers [...] but instead will push them to take riskier routes. [...] “This is very dangerous,” said Frantz Andre, spokesperson and coordinator of Comite d’action des personnes sans statut, a Montreal-based group that provides support for asylum seekers and others without immigration status. [...] Why is this happening now? Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau has been under political pressure domestically to respond to an increase in crossings, particularly from conservative politicians in Quebec and at the federal level.

Text by: Jillian Kestler-D’Amours. “What the new US-Canada border deal means for asylum seekers.” Al Jazeera. 24 March 2023.

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eowynstwin · 9 months ago

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this is me asking for the monastery gelato story :)

I feel like this might be underwhelming lmao. So in May 2018, I went on a month-long study abroad trip to Florence, Italy to make art, eat pasta, and as it turned out sweat my ass off because Europe for some reason does not believe in the miracle of air conditioning.

The curriculum was VERY rigorous, not just academically but also physically by necessity of the fact that we had to walk fucking everywhere to get literally anywhere. I walked all over central Florence to get to museums, art galleries, various historical sites, and the international art school hosting us for in-studio classes.

One of the historical sites we visited was San Miniato al Monte, and I figured out the hard way that "al Monte" meant "at the top of a big fuckoff hill".

This is not my photo. The phone I took all my photos with for this trip shat itself in Venice when I left it next to a running sink. I have very few photos of this entire trip, and none of this story.

Luckily, we had a bus to drive us there! Just kidding. The bus took us from the station and deposited us at what I swear to god was the very base of the hill. We proceeded to walk up that hill for the next forty-five minutes.

Here's a fun fact about me: the heat makes my brain melt. I think it's an autistic thing. My brain also doesn't function when I'm hypoglycemic, which in Italy I always was because I'm a sensitive eater and didn't have enough time to figure out any safefoods (which I'll point out that at the time I didn't know was something I could or should do). Likely at that point in the day all I had eaten was a croissant and an espresso.

So I don't actually remember a lot about this day trip. I remember sweating like a whore in church (ha, get it, because it's a church), I remember a graveyard with old weathered statues, and getting eaten alive by mosquitos. We went inside, and I vaguely remember the interior.

Fun fact about churches in Italy, you have to cover your shoulders if you're a woman. I have a corny Venezia scarf from that trip to Venice that I had to buy last minute. But that's a story for another time!

So, after we got the tour we were set free to explore the grounds. Personally, I was not interested in exploring the grounds, on account of being near death by way of mosquitos and starvation and sweating every fluid from every pore. So I went to the gift shop. It was the only air conditioned building in the vicinity.

I remember there being a gorgeous rosebush outside the shop, heavy with pink blooms. I distinctly remember snapping a photo of the biggest of them, but that photo is lost to time and Apple products' vulnerability to singular drops of water. Before the gelato, that rose was the best part of my day--I've always loved flowers, and even when you're tired and hungry a pretty rose is going to remind you that life is not in fact horrible.

In the gift shop were displays of handmade little gifts directly from the monks that lived in the monastery. Little ceramic doodads and figurines, all hand painted and signed, lined the shelves, and in one corner of the shop was a waist-high freezer filled with plastic-capped paper cups.

I remember the pattern around the cups was green and pink and probably floral. I was of course minutes from death so I picked out the one that looked the fullest. It did not look impressive--just some chocolate ice cream, about the same size as little single serve cups you can get at Walmart or any gas station.

I paid maybe two euro for it, bought a little ceramic ewer to go with it (I don't have a picture of it but I'll post one later if I can find the thing), and found somewhere on the grounds to sit and eat.

I am an ex-Baptist and very passionate about that. I do not believe in the Christian god nor any of its associated divinity. But reader, when I took that first bite of gelato, Jesus Christ Himself floated down on a shaft of sunlight to stroke the hair away from my face and smile at me in the way a gentle parent might. The best ice cream I had ever eaten did not compare to how good this gelato was, on that hot Italian morning, in a quiet, weathered graveyard, with a rosebush swaying nearby in a breeze that finally seemed to be picking up.

I had gelato many, many times again on that trip--even from a very famous gelateria, Amorino, that you will probably find all over social media because they sculpt flowers out of gelato on a cone.

Not my picture. Venice must always have its pound of flesh. Apple products are more suicidal than lemmings.

But nothing, not a single scoop, compared to that little paper cup of gelato. I will likely never be able to find that gelato again, because to be candid I'm not even totally sure it was the San Miniato monastery we went to. Time, mental illness, and trauma have stolen a lot of memories from me. But I will never forget that little moment of piece and sweetness for as long as I live.

#answered #storytime #chocolate adventures

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dd20century · 10 months ago

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Henry Dreyfuss: Groundbreaking UI Designer Part Two

This is the second in a two-part series on designer Henry Dreyfuss. Read part one.

World War II and a Move to California

Henry Dreyfuss, Raymond Loewy, and Walter Dorwin Teague designed a series of strategy rooms for the United States Joint Chiefs of Staff at the beginning of World War II. Dreyfuss’s contribution was “four 13-foot rotating globes, one each for Roosevelt, Stalin, Churchill, and the Joint Chiefs” (1).

In February 1944, when The Society of Industrial Designers (SID) was founded Walter Dorwin Teague was its first president, and Dreyfuss served as the organization’s first vice-president. After the War, Dreyfuss moved his family to Pasadena, California, and “opened a second office near his home” (2). In 1946, William F. H. Purcell and Robert Hose became partners in the firm. (1)

Henry Dreyfuss, SS Constitution for American Export Lines (1950). Image source.

In the early 1950s, Dreyfuss designed two steamships, SS Independence and SS Constitution for American Export Lines. (3) For these ships, he developed aluminum deck chairs to replace the heavier wooden deck chairs. (5) Although his firm had done consulting work for Honeywell since the late 1930s, it wasn’t until 1953, Dreyfuss designed the most important product for that firm, the round Honeywell thermostat, “which allowed it to fit cleanly on a wall whether it was askew or not, unlike rectangular ones which frequently appeared crooked”(4).

Henry Dreyfuss, Thermostat for Honeywell (1953). Image source.

During this time Dreyfuss continued working with Bell Laboratories. “In 1949 Dreyfuss updated Bell’s Model 300 telephone with the model 500, which would become the first phone to be offered in a color other than black beginning in 1954. It would ultimately go on to be the most popular phone ever made”(4). An updated version of the wall telephone and the Princess phone were introduced during this decade.

Henry Dreyfuss, Bell Laboratories Model 500 telephone (1949). Image source.

The 1950s also saw Dreyfuss publish his seminal design book, Designing for People. “The book illustrated his ethical and aesthetic principles, [and] included design case studies, many anecdotes” (5), along with anthropometric charts. A second book dealing with ergonomics, The Measure of Man, was published in 1960. (1)

Dreyfuss’s Late Career

During the 1960s Henry Dreyfuss Associates clients included American Safety Razor Company and Polaroid Land Company, which introduced his design for the model 100 camera in 1963. Also during this time, his firm was responsible for the rebranding of American Airlines and continued to collaborate with its long-time client Deere & Company designing four new tractor models during the decade. (3)

Image source.

In 1965 several professional design organizations, including The Society of Industrial Designers, merged to form the Industrial Designers Society of America (IDSA). Dreyfuss was its first president. (7)

Henry Dreyfuss retired from the design firm that bore his name in 1969, but remained working “with top management of several clients to analyze and improve their contact with customers”(3). In 1972 Dreyfuss, along with his wife Doris, worked on Symbol Sourcebook: An Authoritative Guide to International Graphic Symbols, a reference guide “of over 20,000 symbols [that] continues to provide a standard for industrial designers around the world”(4).

Henry Dreyfuss, Cover pages for Symbol Sourcebook: An Authoritative Guide to International Graphic Symbols, McGraw Hil Publishers (1972). Image source.

The Tragic Deaths of Henry and Doris Dreyfuss

In 1972 Henry and Doris Dreyfuss had been happily married for 42 years, but Doris was suffering from terminal cancer. At one point the pain became too much for Doris to bear. On October 5 of that year, the Dreyfusses went into the garage of their home at “500 Columbia Street in South Pasadena, California”(3), got into their car, and turned on the engine. “Within a few minutes they both died. They had lived their life together and ended it together”(7). “Authorities reported the cause of death as carbon monoxide poisoning”(3). The couple was survived by their son and two daughters.

Henry Dreyfuss Associates

The firm that Henry Dreyfuss founded in 1929, continued as Henry Dreyfuss Associates for over four decades after his death”(4). “After Dreyfuss’s retirement, Donald M. Genaro served as president of the company until 1994. In the 1970s, Henry Dreyfuss Associates was responsible for designing the “interiors of nuclear-powered Trident missile submarines”(3). In the next decade, the company “added a major new client in Falcon Jet Company”(3), and was averaging about 50 new products a year. (2)

When Genaro stepped down as president in 1994, a team of several partners took control of the firm. During the 1990s a new utility vehicle was designed for long-time client John Deere, and the company designed the interiors of a line of business jets for the Astra Jet company. Projects for AT&T in 1992 included a notebook computer and a smartphone “which featured an onscreen keyboard”(2).

Henry Dreyfuss Associates relocated to Ann Arbor, Michigan in 2004. (3)

The Legacy of Henry Dreyfuss

In 1963, “Henry Dreyfuss became a trustee of Caltech,… though he had been a faculty member of the engineering division for many years, and had annually lectured on industrial design to students in Business Economics”(5).

In 1996 a major retrospective of the work of Henry Dreyfuss appeared at the Cooper-Hewitt National Design Museum in New York, the same year a book on his work was published. The Industrial Designers Society of America posthumously awarded Dreyfuss the Individual Achievement Award in 2004. (2) The Henry Dreyfuss Archives are located in the Cooper-Hewitt National Design Museum.

A second retrospective of Dreyfuss’s work was held in 2020 at the Figge Art Museum in Davenport, Iowa. Currently the Cooper-Hewitt celebrates the 50th anniversary of Symbol Sourcebook: An Authoritative Guide to International Graphic Symbols with a special exhibition that runs through Spring 2024.

Henry Dreyfuss’s genius spans product design, graphic design, user interface design, as well as business and marketing. His greatest contribution to design is emphasizing the importance of the utility and usability of a product as well as its style.

References

Industrial Designers Society of America, (2023). Henry Dreyfuss, FIDSA. https://www.idsa.org/profile/henry-dreyfuss/

Uhle, F. (n.d.). Henry Dreyfuss Associates, LLC. https://www.encyclopedia.com/books/politics-and-business-magazines/henry-dreyfuss-associates-llc

Wikipedia, (24 February, 2023). Henry Dreyfuss. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Henry_Dreyfuss

Futurama, of the city of, designed by Norman Bel Geddes for the General Motors Exhibit at the New York World's Fair in 1939. New York, 1939. [Photograph] Retrieved from the Library of Congress, https://www.loc.gov/item/2012645722/.

Dreyfuss, J. (22 October, 1972). Henry and Doris Dreyfuss. https://calteches.library.caltech.edu/2944/1/dreyfuss.pdf

Industrial Designers Society of America, (2023). Our Story. https://www.idsa.org/about-idsa/our-story/

Jones, R. A., (7 May, 1997). Our Dreyfuss Affair. La Times Website. https://www.latimes.com/archives/la-xpm-1997-05-07-me-56286-story.html

#henry dreyfuss #user experience design #product design

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niuniente · 2 years ago

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I've had an NDE before from drowning and let me tell you, I am 99% sure my brain was trying to comfort me in my dying moments. I lived, obviously. But I VERY MUCH disagree with you on the whole 'doctors being considered quacks' for it thing. During my recovery I was sent to a support group and one of the people there tried to convince me that the tings I saw were real and I had some sort of ethereal experience. Whereas my doctor told me about the chemical shifts in my brain and explained to the best of his ability why I might have seen what I saw. The doctor admitted that it is a newer field of study, and that not too much is known yet, but he assured me I wasn't alone and that if I felt concerned that he would be there to make sure I was okay. All that person at the support group did was re-traumatize me and give me a mental breakdown. I would rather trust my doctor, who instead of mocking me or calling it nonsense, spoke about it to other doctors who had seen similar things happen with their patients. Please, don't use NDE's an an excuse to discredit doctors or molecular biologists. Because that REALLY sounds like what you are doing what with bringing up the whole 'dark ages' thing.

You are free to have your opinion and view of your experience. After all, it is yours. Who am I to say that it was false?

The same way, I am free to have my views, not based on one person's experience only but thousands of experiences. Thousands of studies. I didn't come up with this just one day like BLING! This is it!

I don't like that the notion that science and "non-scientific" experiences should rule each others out but let's be real; if you tell a scientist, a doctor included, that I had an NDE (like for example, the famous Eben Alexander, who is a neurosurgeon himself, too), 95% of doctors will say "That's bollocks. Our current scientific understanding of this phenomena is X". It's dangerous to think that we already know it all. Science should always be open and hungry to know more, to study more, to go beyond what is already known. Of course, doctors doing their daily jobs are doing their daily jobs and that's good! They do what they can with the technology and understanding we've got at the moment, exactly the same way as doctors in 1823, 1532, 323BC and in 3023. If you somehow understood that as a message against doctors, well, too bad.

If we keep scientific and currently unknown scientific things which we can't understand at the moment separated, it takes longer to study different things and learn to understand them - and also, of course, to rule out things, too. All scientific fields are full of dogmas you shouldn't try to break of question. That's how it has always been and probably always will be. It doesn't mean that the scientific field COULD NOT do good while they are full of these dogmas. That's Christian fundamental belief system where only absolute good or absolute evil exists - and that doesn't work in real life.

IF you, or anyone else, wishes to learn more about NDEs, International Association of Near-Death Experiences IANDS has been studying this phenomena for decades, and it is the world's most reliable source, including scientific studies and help for scientists.

If the physical part of NDE and how brain makes it (most likely brain does have something to do with it, after all, we're psycho-physical beings), the best case is the neurosurgeon Eben Alexander's experience. He knows what he talks about, also as a doctor specialized in brains. He was in such bad condition that there shouldn't have been any experiences, no imagination, not comfort from the brain (based on our current knowledge, that is) and yet, he had such a long, vivid, strong and profound experience that he wrote a book of it.

Here's also Eben Alexander's own speech in an event about his experience, would it interest someone:

youtube

Eben Alexander: A Neurosurgeon's Journey through the Afterlife (not the only one, of course, but detailed and nice)

As a final notion: Please, always keep your experiences as yours but respect others', too. Not everything is always about US and what WE have gone through and what WE believe in. The same way as I can't (and won't) rule out your experience as yours and what it means to you, as I have no right to do it, you can't rule out other peoples' different NDEs just because you personally don't believe in them. (The same way as you can't, for example, dismiss someone having an abusive mother just because your mother adored and loved you). Give them the same respect as you want to be given to you.

#NDE #ask niu #near-death experience

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lboogie1906 · 8 months ago

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Roger Wood Wilkins (March 25, 1932 - March 26, 2017) attorney, civil rights activist, journalist, and historian was born in Kansas City, Missouri to Earl and Helen Jackson. His father was a business manager for the Kansas City Call newspaper, and his mother was the first Black president of the YWCA. After his father’s death, they moved to Harlem and lived near relatives, one of whom was his uncle Roy Wilkins, executive secretary of the NAACP. His mother remarried and the family relocated to Grand Rapids, Michigan. He earned a BA and JD from the University of Michigan. He served as an intern for Thurgood Marshall.

President Lyndon B. Johnson appointed him assistant attorney general. He joined the Ford Foundation, where he oversaw funding for drug rehabilitation, job training, and education for the poor.

He started a new career in journalism, writing for the Washington Post, the newspaper received the Pulitzer Prize for Public Service for exposing the Watergate scandal. Members of the Pulitzer board cited the investigative work of reporters Carl Bernstein and Bob Woodward and the newspaper’s editorials, many of them written by him.

He joined the New York Times. He was the first African American on its editorial board and worked as an urban affairs columnist. He served as associate editor and writer for the Washington Star. He became a senior fellow at the Institute of Policy Studies. He helped establish the Free South Africa Movement.

He served on the board of the NAACP Legal Defense Fund, chaired the Pulitzer Prize Board, and was a member of the PEN/Faulkner Foundation. He became a professor of History and American culture at George Mason University.

He wrote Jefferson’s Pillow: The Founding Fathers and the Dilemma of Black Patriotism, a widely acclaimed study describing the contradictions between the ideals of the Founding Fathers from Virginia and their ownership of Black enslaved. He published The Crisis, the journal of the NAACP, for several years.

He was survived by his wife, Patricia A. King, one son, two daughters, two half-sisters, and two grandsons. #africanhistory365 #africanexcellence

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thebardostate · 10 months ago

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A Near-Death Experience from Drowning

Near-death experience of a 18-year-old boy (from International Association for Near-Death Studies website)

As soon as I started to breathe water, my body began to slow down quickly and I realized that I wasn’t going to escape. My last thought right before my spirit left the body was “Huh! Dying’s not so bad after all!” There was just a moment of panic, then acceptance, and my spirit was out of the body, seeming to leave through the top of my head. The next thing I knew, I was in outer space. There were no stars, just me and this glowing entity (my life). I call this entity the “space slug” because it had kind of an elongated aspect. It was every experience I have ever had. We experience reality in three dimensions tied together with time, which made it a four dimensional object. I remember thinking, wow look at that…four dimensions! It should be mentioned that I was still me. I never once stopped being me, nor did I lose consciousness. All I really lost was my body. My body died; I went on, and I was still me. So I’m out in this void, looking down at my life. I noticed that I could take in everything I’ve ever experienced in my entire life– every tree, every wave, every chalkboard–all at once, and it didn’t seem like all that much. It was what it was. I had the insight that we are so much more than we think we are. In a human body, our capacity for information is extremely limited compared to what we can handle in spirit form. I also noticed that some memories, or life experiences I should say, were brighter, or stood out from the rest. This inspired another insight: We live our lives for just a few special moments and the rest is really filler.

#near death experiences #nde #paranormal experiences #the dying process #life after death #first person nde accounts #consciousness #materialism and its discontents

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nancyspsychicview · 11 months ago

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Spiritual Revelations from Beyond the Veil with DouglasCharles Hodgson

What Humanity Can Learn From the Near Death Experience" Since his retirement his passion is as a seeker of the answers and a writer of Some fabulous spiritual books. He reveals the findings from the International Association for Near Death Studies Inc. The answers we are looking for are in the words of the people who lived to tell what they saw, heard, felt and know. We talk about what happens when you die? Does God exist? Do we have a unique purpose on earth? Are we judged when we die? What the life review about? Are there beings of light, your Guardian Angel and Guides? This is a fabulous book and a wonderful interview with Douglas. Douglas Hodgson is a retired Dean and Professor of Law, and a Lawyer in Perth, Western Australia. HIs areas of expertise include International Humanitarian Law, Civil Law and Causation Law. May your 2024' be joyful, prosperous full of love and bright! Come and see me In LA In February at the Conscious Life Expo 2024' I will be conducting a workshop on Angel Communication Using Spiritual Law. https://consciouslifeexpo.com?ref=mge5otn

Love to all Nancy

#youtube

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kylemcmahonofficial · 1 year ago

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S1/E8 8: The Afterlife

In episode 8 of Death, Grief And Other Shit We Don’t Discuss, Kyle McMahon discusses the odd and seemingly unexplainable things that began to happen immediately after his Mother passed away. Then, Kyle talks once again with Dr. Jan Holden, President of the International Association for Near-Death Studies, and retired Professor Emerita of Counseling at University of North Texas (UNT). They…

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nathanielalcovendas · 1 year ago

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1.)Nearly 70 years after the establishment of the modern State of Israel, its Jewish population remains united behind the idea that Israel is a homeland for the Jewish people and a necessary refuge from rising anti-Semitism around the globe. But alongside these sources of unity, a major new survey by Pew Research Center also finds deep divisions in Israeli society – not only between Israeli Jews and the country’s Arab minority, but also among the religious subgroups that make up Israeli Jewry.

Nearly all Israeli Jews identify with one of four categories: Haredi (commonly translated as “ultra-Orthodox”), Dati (“religious”), Masorti (“traditional”) or Hiloni (“secular”).

2.)For a small country, Israel holds a place of great importance for three of the world’s major religious groups. The modern Jewish state is not only the “Promised Land” for Jews, but the only country in the world where they form a majority of the population. For Christians, Israel is the “Holy Land,” because it is the place where Jesus’ life and death unfolded. And, for Muslims, Jerusalem is the place where the Prophet Muhammad ascended to heaven.

Although Israel’s religious significance dates to ancient times, the country still receives frequent international attention due in large part to near-constant religious, ethnic and political conflicts. As part of its effort to better understand religion around the world, Pew Research Center has conducted a comprehensive study of religion in Israel, where there are major divisions not only between Jews and Arabs, but also among the major subgroups of Israeli Jews.

3.)Israel is especially popular as a destination for religious tourism, pilgrimage and education due to being situated in the historical region where many sacred sites and events are believed to have occurred. In particular, the ‘Old City’ of Jerusalem contains various historical and sacred sites that evoke strong emotional and spiritual feelings for many Jews, Muslims and Christians. The walled ‘Old City’ of Jerusalem is diverse and cosmopolitan, while simultaneously being divided into four distinct quarters: Armenian, Christian, Jewish and Muslim. Synagogues, churches and mosques in various architectural styles can be found throughout. Various sacred and spiritual sounds can be heard, such as church bells, the call to prayer from the minarets of mosques, and Jewish prayers.

4.)The majority of Palestinians are Muslim, including those living overseas. All residents in the Palestinian Territories are required to declare a religion on an identification card issued by the Israeli government. According to this record, 98% of Palestinians identify as Sunni Muslims.1 Christianity is the main minority religion, with roughly 52,000 Palestinian Christians believed to be living across the occupied territories as of 2013.2 It is believed the numbers of religiously unaffiliated Palestinians (i.e. atheist or agnostic) in the West Bank and Gaza are very low.

There is also a substantial population of Jewish Israeli settlers residing in the West Bank and East Jerusalem (see Israeli Settlements under Core Concepts).3 Jewish settlers in the West Bank are generally more religious than those living in Israel, with a higher proportion identifying themselves as ultra-Orthodox (Haredi) (26%) and religious (Dati) (36%).4 For information on the Jewish Israeli population, see Religion in the Israeli profile.

5.)Palestine, area of the eastern Mediterranean region, comprising parts of modern Israel and the Palestinian territories of the Gaza Strip (along the coast of the Mediterranean Sea) and the West Bank (west of the Jordan River).

The term Palestine has been associated variously and sometimes controversially with this small region, which some have asserted also includes Jordan. Both the geographic area designated by the name and the political status of it have changed over the course of some three millennia. The region (or at least a part of it) is also known as the Holy Land and is held sacred among Jews, Christians, and Muslims. Since the 20th century it has been the object of conflicting claims of Jewish and Arab national movements, and the conflict has led to prolonged violence and, in several instances, open warfare.

6.)Islam is a major religion in Palestine, being the religion of the majority of the Palestinian population. Muslims comprise 85% of the population of the West Bank, when including Israeli settlers,[1] and 99% of the population of the Gaza Strip.[2] The largest denomination among Palestinian Muslims are Sunnis, comprising 98–99% of the total Muslim population.

Palestine underwent many demographic upheavals throughout history. By the 4th century, the Jews, who had formerly constituted a majority in Palestine, had become a minority.[3] The Jewish population in Jerusalem and its environs in Judea suffered a heavy blow during the Jewish–Roman wars (66–135 CE) that was never fully recovered. In the following centuries, many Jews emigrated to thriving centers in the diaspora. Others continued living in the region, especially in the Galilee and the coastal plain, and others converted to Christianity.[4] Later, the failure of the Samaritan revolts against the Byzantines (484–573 CE) resulted in the decline of the Samaritan population.[4] The conversion of local populations, along with the immigration of Christians, led to the creation of a Christian majority in Late Roman and Byzantine Palestine.[5][6].

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