#just because you are seeing less news about palestine

[astraystayyh]

i dont think there is a word yet that can describe how absolutely vile israel is. they killed thirsty children by targeting a water tank.

how inhumane do you have to be to support this, to fund this, to excuse this, to ignore this and pretend as if it isn’t going on?

* news was originally shared by Ramy Abdul, chairman of Euromed Human Rights Monitor

it is also not the first time Israel has targeted water tanks . this is how some Palestinians in Gaza get water supplies since the IDF threatens to shoot them.

[thebiballerina]

I mostly concur with the above reblogger, but I wanted to add one thing:

I wouldn't say that anything you do will have zero impact. There are SOME things you can do that will have an impact, if you choose to put your time and energy into this issue. (Which you are not obligated to do, to be clear, unless you have some sort of role or job which implies that sort of responsibility.)

You aren't necessarily helpless. But subscribing to OP's mindset is a really good way to make yourself helpless.

I've seen that mindset, repeatedly. I had that mindset, at one point in time. You know what changed that, more than anything else? Becoming an actual activist.

The activists who hold on to the mindset that a mental health break is selfish? The ones that can't or won't emotionally distance themselves? The ones that don't acknowledge their right to care for themselves because someone, somewhere is suffering worse than them? They don't last, and they don't help.

The good ending for that road is to burn out, and then not be able to help anymore. The bad ending is to fall heavily into compassion fatigue, and then be so desensitized and unable to care that you cause real harm. Or there's the other bad ending, which is that you neglect yourself so thoroughly that you end up hurt, sick, or dead (and maybe hurt others while you are at it). You might even manage to do all three of these things.

If you want to make a real impact on more than a minuscule scale, you not only need to allow yourself mental health breaks (which, yes, sometimes include disengaging completely), you need to accept that they aren't selfish at all. They are sometimes the only way you'll be able to preserve your ability to help. Feeling personally affected by an issue is valid, and sometimes unavoidable, but it doesn't correlate to how much of a difference you make.

Hurting yourself doesn't automatically help others. Many of us have heard metaphor which references the airplane safety instruction to put on your oxygen mask before helping others do so. It's a good metaphor. A suffocating person isn't going to thank you for the valiant gesture of suffocating yourself alongside them, when you had the option to save the both of you.

I believe in sacrifice, in some cases. I believe in acknowledging my privilege. But sacrifice generally implies that you are giving something up to help someone else. If you are just giving something up… it's more suffering in the world, not less.

Do you want to actually help? I bet you there are activism campaigns that would love to have you, in a variety of forms and levels of commitment. Including entirely remote efforts, if you aren't in a position or location to engage in in-person efforts. That goes for any cause, not just this one.

And you'll make a lot more difference in that sphere if you prioritize your impact, instead of your devotion to the issue.

i think anyone who is genuinely worried about their mental health bc of the situation in gaza probably needs to reformat their way of thinking about it. the answer is not to take a “mental health break” where you pretend whats happening in gaza doesnt exist and stop being vocal and refuse to hear people around you who are vocal. the way to do that “mental health break” much more effectively and not selfishly would be to remove yourself from constant streams of idiotic and/or murderously evil people. stop watching tiktok debates. stop reading genocidal reddit comments and news articles from sources you KNOW want palestine dead. stop putting the focus on the murderers and keep your attention on sympathy and love for the murdered, on hope and optimism (even if naive) and activism to do your part in making things better. dont get me wrong the murderers still need to be dealt with but if you as an individual feel like you’re getting too overwhelmed with despair to be helpful, the answer is to shift your focus away from those causing the despair, not to ignore and abandon those who have to actually live through it.

[fursasaida]

This article is from 2022, but it came up in the context of Palestine:

Here are some striking passages, relevant to all colonial aftermaths but certainly also to the forms we see Zionist reaction taking at the moment:

Over the decade I lived in South Africa, I became fascinated by this white minority [i.e. the whole white population post-apartheid as a minority in the country], particularly its members who considered themselves progressive. They reminded me of my liberal peers in America, who had an apparently self-assured enthusiasm about the coming of a so-called majority-minority nation. As with white South Africans who had celebrated the end of apartheid, their enthusiasm often belied, just beneath the surface, a striking degree of fear, bewilderment, disillusionment, and dread.

[...]

Yet these progressives’ response to the end of apartheid was ambivalent. Contemplating South Africa after apartheid, an Economist correspondent observed that “the lives of many whites exude sadness.” The phenomenon perplexed him. In so many ways, white life remained more or less untouched, or had even improved. Despite apartheid’s horrors—and the regime’s violence against those who worked to dismantle it—the ANC encouraged an attitude of forgiveness. It left statues of Afrikaner heroes standing and helped institute the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, which granted amnesty to some perpetrators of apartheid-era political crimes.

But as time wore on, even wealthy white South Africans began to radiate a degree of fear and frustration that did not match any simple economic analysis of their situation. A startling number of formerly anti-apartheid white people began to voice bitter criticisms of post-apartheid society. An Afrikaner poet who did prison time under apartheid for aiding the Black-liberation cause wrote an essay denouncing the new Black-led country as “a sewer of betrayed expectations and thievery, fear and unbridled greed.”

What accounted for this disillusionment? Many white South Africans told me that Black forgiveness felt like a slap on the face. By not acting toward you as you acted toward us, we’re showing you up, white South Africans seemed to hear. You’ll owe us a debt of gratitude forever.

The article goes on to discuss:

"Mau Mau anxiety," or the fear among whites of violent repercussions, and how this shows up in reported vs confirmed crime stats - possibly to the point of false memories of home invasion

A sense of irrelevance and alienation among this white population, leading to another anxiety: "do we still belong here?"

The sublimation of this anxiety into self-identification as a marginalized minority group, featuring such incredible statements as "I wanted to fight for Afrikaners, but I came to think of myself as a ‘liberal internationalist,’ not a white racist...I found such inspiration from the struggles of the Catalonians and the Basques. Even Tibet" and "[Martin Luther] King [Jr.] also fought for a people without much political representation … That’s why I consider him one of my most important forebears and heroes,” from a self-declared liberal environmentalist who also thinks Afrikaaners should take back government control because they are "naturally good" at governance

Some discussion of the dynamics underlying these reactions, particularly the fact that "admitting past sins seem[ed] to become harder even as they receded into history," and US parallels

And finally, in closing:

The Afrikaner journalist Rian Malan, who opposed apartheid, has written that, by most measures, its aftermath went better than almost any white person could have imagined. But, as with most white progressives, his experience of post-1994 South Africa has been complicated. [...]

He just couldn’t forgive Black people for forgiving him. Paradoxically, being left undisturbed served as an ever-present reminder of his guilt, of how wrongly he had treated his maid and other Black people under apartheid. “The Bible was right about a thing or two,” he wrote. “It is infinitely worse to receive than to give, especially if … the gift is mercy.”

[arabian-batboy]

This is why Zionists spent months spreading lies and propaganda about rabid Palestinian men going on a raping spree against any innocent Jewish woman they could see on October 7th, to perpetuate this narrative that sexual violence committed by Palestinians against Israelis is a serious wide-spread issue because Palestinian men (or just brown men in general) are savage animals who breath and live solely for raping women, when in reality its the other way around.

By doing so, they embedded this caricature about Palestinian/Arab men into people's mind that makes them view them inherently as rapists, but never in a million year as a rape victim and that if they don't quickly rush to "condemn" these fake evidence-less rape allegations (not a single of each have been proven to happen by any reliable sources) then they're terrible people and rape-supporting anti-semites. Needless to say, those same people are definitely NOT in any rush to condemn these actually proven and verified rape cases by Israeli settlers.

All of which makes it easier for Zionists to continue their decades long history of sexual violence against Palestinians by having these concentration camps where Palestinian men and boys, just like Palestinian women and girls, regularly go through horrendous forms of torture and sexual abuse that don't receive a fraction of the attention, disclosure, sympathy and condemnation as all of those fake and already-debunked cases of Israeli women being brutally raped by Palestinian men, because everyone has decided that rape is something that's always committed by (brown) men and its victims are always (white) women.

This isn't anything new or exclusive to only Palestinian men, on top of the Israeli concentration camps, many innocent Muslim and Middle Eastern men over the years who have been subjugated through demeaning torture and sexual assault in other concentration camps such as Abu Ghraib or Guantanamo with no consequences for the perpetuators. Not even when we have real documented footage of those sexual crimes, that are literally posted online by the American or Israeli rapist-soldiers (often female soldiers) where they're shown smiling and laughing with their faces clearly seen as they torture the prisoners, because they know that as long as the victim is a Palestinian/Arab/Muslim man, there will be no consequences for them or any justice for their victims.

And people will just go on believing the notion that all Middle Eastern men are sexually-deprived raping machines who can't control themselves when they see a woman showing her ankle, when in reality foreigners occupiers and soldiers target them as much as they do to Middle Eastern women and subjugate them to the same level of sexual crimes, yet those foreigner occupiers and soldiers are never the ones who get associated with the words "rapist" or "terrorist" despite their long documented history of rape and other sexual crimes.

Find a protest near you here: X, X, X, X & X

Donate or join Palestine action here: PALESTINE ACTION

[cuntressgoingdigital]

BAD HABIT | abby anderson x reader - college au!!

free palestine! click this link for more info

synopsis: you catch abby's eye during class and she becomes determined to make you her's. unfortunately, she can't bring herself to just outright admit her feelings, forcing herself through weeks of yearning and agony.

notes: i have been sitting on this since early october. finally finished it up! gets kinda rambly midway through. can you tell i love writing abby as a gay loser? titled after bad habit by steve lacy :P

cw: 18+ content MDNI, reader referred to as a girl, alcohol ment, dom! reader (if you squint), inexperienced! abby, no smut technically (but def not sfw), abby doesn't know how to communicate

word count: 4.9k

it was abby’s final year of college. she was finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. the last three years had been a horrendous rollercoaster of trials and tribulations. all of her classes were rigorous and extremely involved. it felt like she never slept, ate, or had any time to herself. she had a couple friends, but nothing too serious. in reality, they were probably closer to acquaintances. she made the mistake of following her boyfriend halfway across the country to attend the same college as him. all of her friends were his friends and their breakup, while semi-amicable, set her back as far as friendships go. 

it wasn’t that she wasn’t good at making friends, she just didn’t have the time. making friends in your senior year of college was its own special beast. nobody wants to go out of their way to foster new friendships because of their temporary nature. everyone was applying for grad school, hoping to get as far away from home as possible. living off campus isolates you, ripping you away from the forced community that comes with living in a dormitory.

none of that mattered. abby was perfectly fine by her lonesome.

she had never felt compelled to establish a connection until she stepped foot into her french romantic literature class. everyone called it a gimme class. do the readings, write your reviews and reports, easy A. it was a low level class and she needed the elective credit, so why not? it was an 8AM, but she had dealt with worse. 

she was setting up her ipad and pencil when she felt someone brush past the back of her chair. she looked up and suddenly she couldn’t breathe. she swears she had never seen a girl more beautiful than you. it felt like one of those cheesy rom coms where all the sound in the room dropped out, the entire world slowed, and your smile lit up the room. 

“sorry!” you whispered, making your way a few chairs down and getting as comfortable as possible on those horrid plastic chairs. 

every day for two weeks she just watched you from afar. abby perked up every time you raised your hand to give insight on that week’s readings. you were intimidatingly smart. everything you said, she couldn’t have possibly come up with. she hadn’t missed a single day of class so far. 

but, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t think of a single thing to say to you. a simple “hi, nice to meet you” wouldn’t cut it. she didn’t want to come off as creepy or nonchalant. she needed a plan. 

one day you had left your bag open on your desk and abby caught a glimpse of a novel. it wasn’t one of the books that was required reading for class. was it a leisure read? immediately, she looked up the title and read the synopsis. 

she couldn’t fathom any way to make a book sound less interesting.

alas, at this point she was committed. 

that afternoon, during a small break between classes, she made her way to the library. after wandering on one of the floors for too long, she finally found the novel in question. the plan was to read it, hope that you left your bag open again, and ask about it after class. simple enough. 

she took the elevator down to the first floor and brought the book up to the check out desk. there was no one behind the desk and she wondered if she should come back later.

“sorry!” 

abby knew that voice. 

you sauntered out from the hidden staff area behind the desk. abby felt stupid for letting her crush affect her like this. her face was hot, she had to make a concerted effort to breathe evenly, and suddenly she forgot how to socialize. all she could do was stiffly set the book on the desk. 

“aren’t you in my class? french romantic lit, right?” you took the book in your hands and flipped it to the back cover to scan the barcode on the corner. 

“uh, yeah. i think so?” she had never felt more awkward in her life, sliding her student ID across the desk. 

“well, it’s nice to meet you…” you pick up the plastic card and read over it. “abby.”

there was a quiet beep and abby stood there awkwardly trying to think of something to say. “have you read this book before?” she blurted out. “i just…the reviews seemed to be pretty split. people either love it or hate it, y’know?”

a smile stretched across your face. you were clearly more than delighted to give your thoughts, recommendations for other books, and authors who had a similar writing style. abby thought your enthusiasm was adorable. she had absolutely no clue what you were talking about, but was happy you got to share your ideas with her. 

she cleared her throat. “i guess i’ll give you my thoughts after class one day?” 

you nod excitedly. “i would really love that.” 

abby collected her items and turned on her heel to leave the library. she felt accomplished, only to realize a few moments later,

fuck. 

she didn’t even ask for your name. 

that night abby started the novel. she was determined to finish before she saw you again on wednesday. homework was suddenly tossed onto the backburner. her childish crush took precedent. for the next day and a half she did nothing but read this novel, even going as far as making annotations and talking points for you. 

she woke up bright and early on wednesday. the sun was hanging lowly in the sky. she couldn’t go back to sleep even if she wanted to. she drug her body out of bed and pulled on a black tshirt and grey sweatpants for her early morning workout. she preferred to get her workout out of the way during the early morning hours to avoid the crowd of people in her apartment’s rec center and lower her chances of social interaction. 

her workout was a little more rushed than usual. she wanted to make sure she looked well put together when she approached you after class. she was meticulous with her shower routine, pairing the scent of her body wash with her lotions and deodorant. pine and amber with a hint of lavender. next was her hair that she braided and re-braided at least three times in front of her slightly fogged up bathroom mirror. she peeked at her phone and noticed it was way later than she thought. she ripped a black short sleeve button up and olive green corduroy pants off of their hanger and slipped on some shoes before she ran off to the bus stop.

she made it into the classroom right as the professor was reading off the first slide. the feeling of several pairs of eyes on her was unbearable. 

for the entire seventy five minutes of class she could only stare at you. you were feverishly typing on your laptop while also scribbling something down in your notebook. the clock seemed to tick slower than usual. 

“alright, that covers everything i wanted to address today. i’ll let y’all out a few minutes early. go enjoy the weather outside.” 

abby couldn’t pack up faster. she prayed you weren’t in any kind of rush. 

“hey!” 

abby spun around to see your face. thank god, you had approached her. this eliminated the possibility of her chickening out. 

“oh, hey!” this had thrown off abby’s entire script. “sorry i ran off yesterday. i didn’t catch your name?”

you chuckled at the realization. you hadn’t noticed either. after you properly introduced yourself, abby offered a “nice to officially meet you.”

you waste no time getting to your initial reason for approaching her. “did you start the book?” 

the sound of your voice had butterflies swarming about in her stomach. 

“yeah, i finished it actually.”

you slung your backpack over your shoulders. “which way are you going?” 

the two of you set off in the direction of the coffee shop on campus. abby went over her talking points and luckily you two shared a lot of the same ideas about the themes and writing style of the book. abby made a mental note to read more of your recommendations. 

the coffee shop was coming up on the horizon and abby had already completely derailed her walk to her next class. she had to wrap this up.

“did you maybe wanna study together sometime? you looked really into today’s lecture.” was that a weird thing to say? now it sounded like she was watching your every move.

she was. 

but, that wasn’t your business. 

“oh god, no. i hated this week’s reading. way too dense and the translation was clunky.” your head dropped in embarrassment. “i was actually playing sudoku.” 

god, you were the cutest thing. 

“dinner, then?” she ground her fingernails into the fabric of her backpack straps. “i just think it would be nice to have someone to talk about the homework with.” there was a beat of silence and immediately she felt the need to backtrack “it’s okay if not! i’m sure you’re busy and all.”

“dinner sounds fun! i can do tonight? maybe around seven?”

the two of you exchanged phone numbers and abby said a quick goodbye before rushing off in the opposite direction, praying she wasn’t late to her next class. 

you mentally high fived yourself. you had only made one friend during your time at college and that was your first year dorm roommate. she was great and all, but a senior with only one friend felt sort of pathetic. you were positive the two of you only ended up being friends because of your forced close proximity. you both loved each other to death, but you weren’t so sure you would have found each other otherwise. 

this time you made a friend all on your own. well, maybe you two weren’t quite friends yet, but you’d try your damndest to make your friendship status official. she was nice enough so far. 

and really pretty. 

like, really pretty. 

an hour or so later, abby sent a text with a link to a restaurant menu. you couldn’t help but open the message immediately. 

abby a.: is this good? 

you clicked on the link and your eyes grew wide. this was one of the places you would only eat at for special occasions. the cheapest entree was thirty dollars. there was no way you could afford that. you were a full time student living off of your need based scholarship and the meager wages you received from your work study job. if you looked you would probably see double digits in your checking account. 

you: this looks rlly nice but idk if i’ll be able to afford it 

you: i’m srry!!

before you could lock your phone, the grey bubble appeared again.

abby a.: don’t worry i invited you. i’ll grab the check. 

the idea of being indebted to her made you uneasy, but you couldn’t bring yourself to disagree with her. you didn’t want to seem high maintenance. 

your 8AM was your only class of the day, so in normal fashion you gallivanted around campus and sat in front of the library, people watching, until your shift started. the older woman who worked the same desk shift as you helped you on the daily crossword, forcing the time to pass faster. 

it was a little more than an hour before you and abby were supposed to meet up when your phone vibrated. 

abby a.: i’ll pick you up. send me your address.

you had fully intended to take the twenty minute bus ride over to the restaurant. you knew the bus routes like the back of your hand on account of you not owning a car. it wasn’t as bad as everyone made it out to be. 

abby pulled up at 7PM on the dot. once you received the “outside” text you grabbed your bag from it’s designated hook near the door. 

“where ya goin’?”

you looked back to see your best friend and roommate, liz. 

“dinner.”

“like a date?”

“nah. just some girl from my class.” your hand reached for the doorknob and pulled the door open. “i’ll see you!”

“have fun. make good choices!” she called out before you could shut the door behind you. 

you peered around the parking lot, trying to find her car. you pulled your phone from your bag and unlocked it, preparing to call abby to play hot and cold until you found her. then, you heard a voice call your name. 

abby was hanging out the sunroof of her car, waving at you. you approached her car and caught the brand sigil on the front grille. it was a BMW. you didn’t know much about cars, but you knew those were expensive. you opened the doors to see a custom leather interior and a high tech touch screen on the center console. it felt like you weren’t even allowed to sit down in this car. 

“hey, sorry it’s kind of messy.” 

there were maybe a dozen crumbs on the floor mats and a couple straw wrappers in the cup holder. 

“if this is messy for you, you’d hate to see my room.” you awkwardly tried to laugh off the tension you felt. “nice car.” 

abby moved the gear shift into drive and started to pull out of the parking lot. “yeah, it’s an early graduation present. i was hoping for something a little more practical. like a subaru or something.” she immediately bit her tongue. she probably sounded so stuck up right now. “i mean, this is perfectly fine! i just…what if i have some furniture to move, y’know?” 

smooth recovery.

“no, no i get it!” you, in fact, did not get it. you would kill to be able to drive yourself across town and not have to haul your groceries along with you on the bus. 

abby’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. “you can take aux if you want.” she motioned to the wire hanging out of the charging port. 

this was one of the worst things you could ever hear. now you had to carefully curate a few songs to last the duration of the short drive. shuffling your liked songs would surely end in embarrassment and you couldn’t tell what music abby would be into. you haphazardly queued a couple songs and analyzed every change in abby’s face, trying to decipher whether she liked the songs or not. to your delight she began humming along to one of the songs. 

“didn’t expect you to be into this sort of music.”

abby shrugged. “i’m full of surprises, i guess.” 

you made small talk about your major and your class load for the semester. all of the typical stuff you go over with anyone you meet in a college town. then, you discussed plans for grad school.

“i think i’m gonna take a year or two off and travel for a while. see the world and all that.” you picked up on the way abby’s eyes sparkled when she talked about it. 

“what are you gonna do about money and stuff?” finally, you had an excuse to ask how rich she was.

“my dad’s a neurosurgeon. he rolled right through undergrad into medical school with no time off. he wants me to take some time and find myself. make sure i’m committed to whatever my next step is.” 

you wordlessly nodded. the puzzle pieces fell into place. now you were almost embarrassed about not being well off. what could you possibly have in common with some uppity rich girl?

once the two of you started talking over dinner, it seemed like you actually had a lot in common. you both held a passion for the same movies, had slight overlap with your music taste, and held similar political beliefs. you had judged her a little too fast. you let her go on about her coin collection and in exchange she let you beak into a tangent about your hobbies. before you knew it one of the servers came up to your table. 

“hey folks, i brought the check over for you. take your time.”

you were mortified when you saw it was thirty minutes after close. if your server hadn’t practically run off you would’ve offered an apology. 

you instinctively peeked at the check and saw three digits. your shock must’ve been obvious as abby snatched the receipt holder from you. 

“i told you, i’ve got it.” she put down a heavy metal card and you were once again reminded about the difference in your tax brackets. 

dinner had gone so well it became a weekly endeavor. every wednesday you met up with her so she could show you a couple different spots around town. every time she paid the bill before you could even say anything. whenever you mentioned wanting to read some newly released book that the library hadn’t ordered yet, she would shyly present it to you the next time you two saw each other. weekly dinner dates turned into coffee dates between classes, which turned into study dates at home. she learned your coffee order and work schedule so she could occasionally pop into the library while you were working and deliver you a treat. you became inseparable rather quickly. often walking hand in hand across campus after your seminar. 

liz caught you smiling at your phone and peered over your shoulder. 

“hey, hey! what happened to privacy?” you scolded. 

liz looked you up and down. “what’s going on between you two? always texting, always facetiming, always hanging out.”

“nothing! we’re just friends.” 

it was clear she didn’t believe you. “there’s no fucking way y’all are ‘just friends’.” 

“i can be just friends with a girl!” 

“mhm. sure, sure.” liz left you to study (read: spend your entire night texting back and forth with abby). 

that night when you laid in bed, you finally gave your relationship some thought. were you two “just friends”? you were used to burying your semi-romantic thoughts about your female friends. that had been your MO ever since you discovered you were gay. you tried not to think about abby in that way. you were so excited to make a new friend, you couldn’t bear potentially ruining things with those thoughts. 

you two were just close friends. that’s it.

that’s all it would ever be. 

abby a.: goodnight see you in the morning <3

unbeknownst to you, abby was also spiraling about your relationship. had the little heart been too much? she was trying so hard to be subtle. either you were completely uninterested or she wasn’t being obvious enough. what was she supposed to say? “i think i have a crush on you” was way too forward. what if you didn’t feel the same way? now she would look like an idiot and have to bear the next couple months showing up to the same class as you three times a week. 

even worse, you were the first girl abby had ever properly pursued. her breakup with owen forced her to finally contemplate if she ever actually loved him. well, of course she loved him, but was she ever in love with him? after a month she had decided it had never been the latter. that had been nearly a year ago and in that time she had never actually made an effort to seek a relationship with anyone romantically. she made out with girls at parties, hooked up with one girl months ago, but this was different. she wanted your dinner dates to be real dates. to sleep with you in her arms. post you on her story with a caption that said ‘my girlfriend is so beautiful’. 

how the fuck was she going to make this work?

she laid awake drafting different text messages and formulating different scenarios where it would be appropriate for her to confess to you. 

that weekend abby invited you over for a sleepover. nothing too crazy. just wine, takeout, and a movie. the hour it took for you to respond was possibly the worst hour of her life.

you: omg sounds fun!! i’ll finish up my work at 8?

abby breathed a sigh of relief. she spent the next several hours stress cleaning. her entire house was pristine by the time she was meant to pick you up. 

confessing to you over text almost felt disrespectful. the wine would compensate for her intense fear of rejection. if you didn’t reciprocate, she’d just politely call you an uber and that would be that. the prospect of ignoring her feelings for you until the end of the semester trumped her fear of having to be in the same classroom with a girl who rejected her. 

she just couldn’t take it anymore. 

when she pulled into the driveway of your apartment she saw that you were already waiting outside, a small duffel bag in hand. 

you happily trotted over to her car and hopped in. the seat was perfectly adjusted for you as always. you took over aux without abby prompting you to. 

you always got the passenger princess treatment. 

abby listened to you tell her every intricate detail of your day. the dog you got to pet on campus, how the coffee shop messed up your order and you were too scared to tell them, and the crossword you weren’t able to finish because your usual coworker wasn’t on shift. 

while she was happy to listen to you, all she could think about was the fact that this may be the last time she got to hear your daily musings. 

“you okay, babe?” 

the hairs on the back of her neck always stood up when she heard you call her that. 

“i’m fine. just thinking about this assignment i forgot to finish.”

“i can help you when we get home. as long as it’s not your orgo chem class. you’re on your own with that.”

no matter how hard you tried to ignore it, you could feel the tension in the air. something was off, but you couldn’t tell what. abby was speaking less and just seemed out of it in general. every time you asked if she was okay it was always the same 

“i’m okay. don’t worry.”

you brush it off and carry on with the night as if all was normal. you ordered chinese food from your favorite hole in the wall restaurant and plopped down on her couch. it took you thirty minutes to decide on a movie, the two of you debating the pros and cons of every option. it didn’t take long for the food to be delivered and after abby gave you permission to eat on the couch you dug into your food.

“is this your first meal of the day?” abby knew you were terrible at taking care of yourself. not that she was much better.

“shut up.” you uttered through the food in your mouth. 

a few minutes into the movie, abby offers you a blanket which you eagerly take. you rest your legs over her lap and lay back against one of the throw pillows. abby almost felt wrong touching you. she had plans to irrevocably change your relationship before the night was over. 

would you be able to stay friends with her after?

“do you want wine? i figured rosé would be a safe choice.” 

you affirmatively hummed, prompting abby to rush off into her dark kitchen. she just needed a few moments to breathe. 

“can i ask a stupid question?” you called from the living room. 

abby felt the need to dry heave. “maybe.” was all she could offer as a response.

there was a few moments of uncertain silence before you spoke again. “liz is convinced we’re like…dating, or something? is there something going on between us?” 

you were always so forward. it was a trait of yours that abby admired. except this time. 

like the day you first spoke after class, you had completely derailed her scripts and scenarios.

“i…don’t know?” the question had her hands shaking so bad she couldn’t pull the cork out of the wine bottle. 

you hummed once more. “i don’t know either.”

the movie filled the uneasy silence between the two of you. abby was panicking and you surprisingly weren’t. 

“i think i like you.” you were the first to break the silence. “wait, that sounded really childish. i just…you know what i mean.” 

finally, abby could exhale. 

“i’m sorry. did i make things weird?” 

abby rushed back into the living room and saw you cocooned in her blanket, partially shielding your face from her.

“holy fuck. no, no!” she tripped over her words, trying to skip to whatever part of the script she intended to use for this exact moment. finally, she cleared her throat. “that’s kind of why i approached you the first time. i mean, i’m glad we became friends!” once again, she felt the need to backtrack. “when i first saw you in class i thought you were really pretty. i’ve been trying to work up the nerve to say this from the first time we met.” 

you finally met her gaze. abby was shocked to hear you giggle. “that’s sweet.” you reached out for her, beckoning her to come sit next to you. “i wish i had known. you’re always acting so mysterious about your feelings.” you teased. 

you sat up and loosely wrapped your arms around her shoulders. “so…was your plan to corner me here and bombard me with your confession?”

“okay, it sounds weird when you say it like that.” how had you read her intentions so accurately?

“i don’t hear any denial.” abby refused to answer. she had suffered enough tonight. “enlighten me, what was your plan if i said i liked you back?” 

abby shrugged. she really hadn’t expected to get this far. she spent more time planning for a rejection than reciprocity. 

you leaned into her. “well, i think you should kiss me.” 

abby had been dreaming of this moment. quite literally. whenever she had vaguely scandalous dreams it was always about you. she’d wanted this for so long and here she was awkwardly fumbling as she pressed her lips against yours. 

you delicately brushed a few fly away hairs behind her ear and leaned into the kiss. you could feel the hesitance in abby’s body language and knew you’d have to be the captain of the ship for the time being. you closed the space between the two of you, now chest to chest. 

“you don’t have to be nervous.” you whispered in her ear while you moved to straddle her lap. 

abby placed her hands firmly at your hips, finally working up the courage to just touch you. the movie was long forgotten when she lost herself in your kiss. her hand made it halfway up your shirt before she broke the kiss. 

“is that okay?” 

you giggled against her lips. “yeah, have at it.” 

the joking tone eased her mind and emboldened her. her hand found its way fully under the fabric of your shirt, cupping your left breast. her thumb brushed against your nipple, making you sharply inhale. you grinded down against her crotch and abby whimpered against your lips. 

you couldn’t tell how much time had passed. the both of you were feeling sensitive and hot all over. you were desperate to draw those sweet mewls out of her. 

“okay, fuck this movie.” all at once you pulled away from her. abby looked like she could’ve cried at your sudden absence. “do you wanna…like…”

“yeah,” she took a moment to catch her breath. “yeah. the bedroom is this way.” she took your hand and led you past the kitchen to her bedroom that was bathed in moonlight from the wall length windows. she rushed to close the curtains before she pulled her shirt off, revealing her black sports bra. you took her hand and collapsed against her bed, tugging her down with you. 

your fingers reached for the string of her sweatpants, working them down her thighs and tossing them to the side. 

“have you done this before?” you whispered in between kisses to her neck and collarbones. 

“sort of. a while ago.” 

“well i’m happy to give you a refresher course.” you flipped abby onto her back so you could be on top. “just relax.” you hooked your fingers into the waistband of her boxers and pulled her thighs apart. 

the sex lasted for an absurdly long time. for a beginner, abby was surprisingly adept. she was a quick learner. by the end of it, neither of you had the energy to go back to the movie. you slept soundly in her arms, not even bothering to redress. 

the next morning you were harshly pulled from your sleep by an alarm. it was saturday. there was no way it was your phone. 

abby shot straight up in bed and hastily pulled her phone off of the nightstand. 

“fuck. i’m sorry. i forgot i have rugby practice.” she leapt out of bed and started digging through her closet for fresh workout clothes. “for the record, i had plans to make you breakfast and everything. the whole nine yards.”

you stretched out in her bed, missing her warmth. “oh, i’m sure.”

[autumnalhalcyon]

Grow some reading comprehension. Me mentioning news outlets was a means of expressing exactly how mainstream the idea of not forgetting the Oct 7 massacre is.

As in "Tumblr Users Could Not Forget October 7th Even If They Wanted To". As in, "If Tumblr Users Were Antisemitic Enough To Disregard October 7th, Mainstream Media Would Never Allow Anyone To Forget".

I don't see how so many people find it difficult to comprehend that some people just want the fighting to stop, and that Palestinian civilians have nothing to do with Hamas, no matter how many starving refugees the IDF decide to gun down in front of an aid truck.

Some of us desperately want to see some fucking reason why Israel, a nation born from the trauma of the fucking Holocaust, would be okay with the idea of funneling millions of civilians into one corner of the city only to prep a ground assault on the very same corner they were funneled to.

Some of us are struggling to fight of the notion that the Israeli government has no intention of rescuing those hostages and just wants to use them as an excuse to wipe out gaza and kick the Palestinians out of West Bank to have the land for themselves to like their government officials keep claiming they want to do.

I can't see any other reason why Israeli negotiators would insist on invading Rafah regardless of whether a ceasefire gets negotiated. Not like they've brought back more than a handful of the Hostages anyway, the rest of em? Gunned em down, or made efforts to flood the very tunnels they claim to be holding the hostages in.

So now, how else do you intend to twist my words to suit your worldview of a website devoid of any concern for 10/7 victims? You gonna claim my sources are "hamas propaganda" despite them all being mainstream news sites? Though I guess you don't seem the type to want to actually research your claims, unlike myself. Gets in the way of mob mentality, I've heard.

[sissa-arrows]

If what’s happening in France right now was happening in the Global South there would be talks about sending troops to bring democracy in France.

The leaders and big figures of the opposition who support Palestinians are getting summoned by the police one by one for refusing to call October 7th a terrorist attack (for the record a lot of them say that it was a war crime because it targeted civilians but not a terror attack so they don’t even support what happened).

All while letting Zionist who actually called for mass murder on live TV get away with it.

But you know what? As strange as it sounds it’s actually a good sign. One of the most violent day for Algerians during the war of liberation (17 October 1961) happened less than a year before the independence just a couple months actually (the independence was on July 5th 1962 but it was signed in March 1962). Because that’s how the colonizers behave and think. The crackdown in France, the new German law forbidding the use of Arabic and Hebrew at pro Palestinian protests, the crackdown in US universities… a wounded dying beast always get more violent. They are scared so they try to silence us harder. They know that it’s a matter of time that the fall of colonialism, imperialism and white supremacy will happen in our lifetime so they try to scare us into stopping the fight.

Don’t get me wrong it will be hard and won’t happen overnight but their reactions are convincing me that we will see a Free Palestine a Free Global South a Free world in our lifetimes.

(P.S: ​tagging the post with Palestine because my previous post being positive about the outcome seemed to help some people who felt hopeless so I hope this one will help too. That being said we don’t have the right to give up the fight and we shouldn’t give up hope either. None of us is free until all of us are.)

[theroundbartable]

My position on the war in Israel/ Palestine

Below the cut, because this is my opinion, and you are, of course, not expected to share it, or even care about my position at all. You might not even like what I have to say.

This is for myself and for the people who decide whom to follow based on the flags I raise in my bio (which is none).

It's a bit long, sorry.

The war in Israel/Palestine has now been going on for over a year and I keep seeing blogs that are entirely pro palestine, and then others who are entirely Israeli, accusing each other of rape and murder and genocide, of antisemitism and zionism, etc. etc. Most of these accusations were fact checked and true. Some arguments I heard of people were quite obviously formed through what their government told them, might even lied to them about. I cannot blame these people for clinging to faith, to clinging to the vague idea that there is a sense to their suffering, or who are trying to deflect of their own guilt.

I am German. I know the arguments. I know why they exist and I cannot blame people who's life might be depending on that hope, who's sanity might depend on that faith.

So far, I have not really posted my own opinion on it and I understand that my position on this is not a common one. Nor is it one that many people will accept or find satisfying. Never the less, this is my point.

Under normal circumstances, I would never have made a post and I already am very late to the debate, but since elections in the US are up and more dangerous than ever, since the debates and the war lead to attacks on people online and world wide, since all this enables the same fascistic views that once dominated my country and are threatening to dominate the field once again, I think I should at least say something.

I need to, in order to make up the the past my grandfather took part in as a German soldier, to honor my grandmother's memory who welcomed refugees of war and "war criminals" who were stationed in the neighboring Arbeitslager in her home; in her home where she was all alone with her sick father and waited for the news of her brothers falling in the war while the polish captive cooked them dinner and taught her to read. I need to, as someone who's ancestors were both shooting and housing their enemies. As someone who carries both the guilt and the pride into the next generation.

This is not a football game.

I can't go and pick a side and root for their win. I can't go out on the street with other students and hold up "free palestine" signs, when I know that the words are war propaganda from a group of terrorists. I can't go and side with Israel and justify a genocide by telling people they are being antisemitic if they criticise the Israeli government.

It is the Israeli government under Netanjahu, it is the Hamas who are fighting this war, and to say that the people under their leadership aren't in on it is naive to a degree.

We are not talking about winning and losing here. Because there are no winners in war. I CANNOT debate on who's human rights are worth more than the other. I CANNOT ignore that the Hamas started the war, I cannot ignore that they abuse their captives, I cannot excuse that the Israeli government shoots back at hospitals and abuses their own captives as well.

I can't choose between the grays, because to me, they are the same shade.

But to say they are all supporting those leaderships, to say that not most of them are just trying to survive is terrifyingly cold. That would be like saying they deserve what is happening to them and that can never be the truth.

This doesn't mean I'm not judging between the two. I judge the obvious violence on both sides, I fear for the victims on both accounts, I hate the idea that categorises who is allowed to live where in the country, I despise the idea that Israel alone is to blame.

"You can't not pick a side."

I did. Because there is not just two sides to this war. There is three or four, perhaps even more than that.

There is the terror organisation, there is the government, and then there is the people stuck in the crossfire. I refuse to side with the criminals. I refuse to side with the abusers. They are both wrong, they are both murderous and violent, and siding with one would be - for me - like pointing the gun at the other.

That said, I do not believe that people who raise the palestine flags are wrong, neither do I judge the Israel one. Both sides deserve justice for what happend and what continues to happen. But to a German who only raises the flag once every four yeara at soccer games, worshipping the government that is doing all this, that feels wrong. I know that my view is distorted because of my family's Nazi history, but I can't help feeling that way.

If we're talking about violence, justice would mean that more violence is the answer. An eye for an eye is justice too, but this will never result in peace.

Quite honestly, I don't even think a two state solution would be the answer either. It could be, if Hamas and Israel wanted peace. If Natanjahus war wasn't a ploy to keep himself in power. As it is right now, with the war expanding, even if they managed to somewhat put down their weapons, they will continue to be neighboring enemies, they will continue to hate each other and they will continue to never forgive, to never forget, justifying future reasons to war.

Honestly, I'm not arrogant enough to say I know the solution. All I know is that I know where I stand. And I will never, under any circumstances, judge you if you live in Isreal or in palestine. Nor will I judge you for fighting for each of their rights. Because unless you wish for the complete destruction of the other, unless you justify a genocide, then I am on your side. Because you are, in this war, on your own. And I don't want to see you there alone.

And I will not raise your flag, I will not raise the flag of your enemy, I don't even raise my own flags because I'm honestly not that much into soccer. Because I separate you and your life from the system you live in.

All I can do is tell you that if you flee to Germany, I will be one of the people voting for your safety, for your right to stay, and for being properly integrated. I will not side with the right wing fascists that dominate this country. I will not side with people who simply picked their favorite oppressor. It's not enough to save you. But I'm not a hero. I can only refuse to be the villain.

This makes my position obviously debatable, to some even unacceptable, and I understand that it's not very satisfying to read this from someone who is lucky and priviledged enough to watch from the sidelines.

But I simply cannot support either of these systems. Because neither of them value human life, let alone human rights.

[cartoonistcoop]

ShortBox Comics Member Interview: Otava Heikkilä

Throughout the month of October, the Cartoonist Cooperative will be sharing interviews with members of the Co-op who have a new comic available at the ShortBox Comics Fair 2024! 

NOTE: The Cartoonist Cooperative is not affiliated, associated, authorized, endorsed by, or in any way formally connected with ShortBox.  

Today’s spotlight is Otava Heikkilä and their new comic for ShortBox, Home by the Rotting Sea 

We’d love it if you could introduce yourself and tell us about your background in comics.

Otava Heikkilä: Hey, I’m Otava, a thirty-something comic artist from Finland whose work focuses on narrative, usually historically inspired, usually dark fiction, for queer adults. I’ve been self-publishing comics online since 2010, and my works have been published by indie publishers like Iron Circus Comics and Quindrie Press from 2016 onwards. My piece for ShortBox Comics Fair 2024 will be my 14th comic to see a release. I don’t really know why I make comics, but it’s the primary driving compulsion I have in life. Sad, or awesome, or both!

Tell us more about your new comic?

OH: Home by the Rotting Sea is about two former playthings from the Human King’s harem. This world has ended after a climate event, and the ice caps have melted, and everything that’s left is this hot, rotting world without trees. The usual things still thrive there: Kings with big enough armies to confiscate land for themselves. But after the ice caps melted, humans have gotten in contact with another humanoid species who used to live behind the glaciers: the Väki, who the humans call giants, because they’re bigger than us. The territories are under dispute, and to smooth over the latest injury, the Human King sends those two former playthings, Ilta and Laulu, and a cart full of jewelry and furs, to the Väki as an appeasement. The comic itself starts here, and we see Ilta and Laulu learning to live among the Väki. It’s an existential slice of life.

Tell us about your creative process; how did you develop this comic and what are the steps you took to bring it to the final stage?

OH: While developing a new comic, I usually have a few interests that compel me, and a few more that bother me, and I end up alchemizing those together. In recent years I’ve been interested in prehistory and the other humanoid species that lived alongside us in the past. Everybody wants to make a story about how we might’ve felt about the Neanderthals, and I think I’d like to make it too. This is kind of a go at that story, but I wanted to make it fictional and unrelated to our real world relatives. Chasing historical accuracy with a story about prehistory is inherently kind of an impossible, funny thing anyway, and I’ve understood I’m not well-read enough for it (If you are, and would like me to illustrate it for you, hit me up).

So the speculative anthropology was the compelling part. The bothering part was/is the genocide in Palestine that broke into a hell on earth while I was developing the comic. I want to make it clear that my comic doesn’t matter in any meaningful way under this terrible light, but the events are inside all of us and making us sick; my comic is about the death of a people and a land because somebody at the top can’t stop eating the world until there’s nothing left. It’s impossible to make it and have it be unaffected by what’s happening. This was the hardest story to make for me because I’ve bagged so much grief inside it, and hope too.

I’ve also been through chronic pain this year, and I made a lot of the backgrounds of the comic with my left hand, which is in somewhat less pain than my right one. It’s kind of stupid to suffer for pictures, and I will try not to do it going forward, but probably I will.

Does a sense of audience, even if it’s just an audience of one, enter into your creative process? If yes, how so?

OH: Yeah, of course. It’s the need to make a connection to somebody and to feel and see the same thing with brief but great precision. It’s a kind of truth-sharing, because I find it hard to share my real self in my personal life. Or maybe those two things aren’t connected, I don’t know. I’m always thinking about the individual on the other side.

Can you talk about your visual style? How did you develop it?

OH: I think art comes to me easily and because of that I’m lazy about it. I don’t use as much reference as I should, and there’s a general ground floor chaos to everything; my work is worse for it. I’ve tried to tighten the ship and learn better fundamentals as I’ve gotten older, and the result is, I guess, interesting. I do big compositional color blocks first, then lines and detail. I went to art school for my Bachelor’s degree and retained nothing from there except a general superiority complex about having an art degree and some painting fundamentals, which make my workflow slower than it should be for digital comics. Sense of dimensions and scale, color, and clarity of the reading experience are important to me.

Read the rest of the interview HERE! And dont forget to check out the Shortbox Comics Fair to support these lovely creators!!

[nonbinarypirat]

Okay, I’ve been collecting my thoughts on the many-ears demon race and their subservient stance in the Netherworld. And I think this is a perfect time to make a post since chapter 361 just came out and we are getting the main conflict of the arch: conservative older generation vs progressive younger generation. Plus also the fact that the forming country and school still isn’t stable and all that. Spoilers for chapter 361!

So it’s becoming more and more clear that the main conflict will be changing the minds of the older more fearful generation of the many-ears race. Which makes perfect sense, a newer kid comes into this area with ideas of making them equals (something they have never been in their race’s history from what we know) and with the help of one of their own, starts influencing the minds of their children. Obviously the elders would be scared and want to shut this down. It looks like the many-ears can’t remember or see a past or future where they didn’t have this class system in place and the idea of it shifting could very much lead to pain and suffering. It kind of reminds me of the civil rights movement in America, like sure it lead to the many laws that protect marginalized people today, but it came at the cost of many injuries/deaths, fights, and years of activism. The road isn’t an easy one and similarly to the movement, many people didn’t see a point. There’s a few mindsets that you can fall into for this, either you don’t believe change is possible or you do believe it is possible but ultimately would not be worth pursuing because of the consequences. It seems like most fall into the “it’s not possible” with maybe some believing that even if it could change, why change something that has works for generations. The elder in particular seems to believe the second one, that maybe life could be better for them but refuses to change anything on a chance.

It’s understandable why they wouldn’t want change to happen, especially at the expense of their children. But at the same time, younger generations are typically the ones who are less willing to stick to the status quo (queue high school musical) and engage in activism. That’s why student activism is so prevalent, you become aware of new cultures, ideas, and history and are less willing to settle with what’s “worked.” Think about the recent college activism for Palestine or the student walkouts in Florida against the “don’t say gay” bill. A few examples of a much larger trend. However, as you get older you are less willing to see things change, you become compliant and many ways, complicit. Things that seemed like there wasn’t an issue or shouldn’t be an issue are now being questioned and that forces you to question your whole system. And many don’t want to confront that.

In the case for the many-ears, they have survived off of honing their hearing skill to careers that would best benefit from having superb hearing. However, what about many-ears who don’t have incredible hearing like Nova or you simply don’t want the jobs you are trained for like the children in chapter 360. What happens if someone wants to be a florist like the Monmo-chan that doesn’t require good hearing to succeed? If you base your value on your hearing alone, does someone who doesn’t want to base their worth on that lesser in their society? Are they seen as misguided, helpless, or even traitor to your race? It seems chapter 361 confirms that fear. If you don’t have great hearing, you do not have value or worth. And sure, we can argue that he was just saying that to get him to quit teaching the students, but no matter what, his statements were ableist. There’s no other way to slice it. He literally told Nova he has no value in their society because he doesn’t have the many-ears hearing skill. He may be able to hear like most other demons, but in reference to the many-ears, he has a disability that makes him “worthless” in their eyes.

I think another thing I find interesting is that they believe (probably based on a fact(s) of some kind) that they are weak. Weak in body and weak in magic. First, weak in body is something that we can, for the most part, can agree about because of their stature. They are very small compared to most demons and this easily makes them prey to many other demons. But why do they believe that not training your strength and combat isn’t at least worth pursing? Same for magic. Right now we haven’t seen much evidence this is true since we have only seen Nova sucessfully do magic, but let’s say this is true. Does learning some easy or basic spells not seem worth it? On some part the lack physical and magical prowess seems to be innate in the many-ears, but I believe a larger issue is them internalizing this perceived weakness and deciding it’s not worth learning to better themselves. We know that there does exist spells that doesn’t require much magic from Momonoki’s flashback when she was a newbie teacher. Demons come in many shapes and sizes, including magic. This wouldn’t be a new issue that there exists a demon who has small magic reserves (like Kirio for instance). There has to be more spells that exist that you can use if you fall into this category. And just because someone is smaller doesn’t mean that can’t learn how to fight or train athletically. Sure you may not be as strong as other demons, but you can always learn how to use a weapon. At the very least, learning the theory could protect them if nothing else.

At this point, it seems like the many-ears are just shooting themselves in the foot because they’d rather not even try to learn another skill that could benefit them in the future. Sure the jack of all trades may be the master of none, but as the end of the saying goes, it’s still better than the master of one. This really feels like home schooling verses public school debate too. Like sure, the school that the love trio made isn’t perfect by any means, but it provides them with a more well rounded education that doesn’t just focus on the one. The elder talks about how mastering magic isn’t guaranteed, but couldn’t we say the same with their hearing? Just because others have succeeded doesn’t mean the children are bound to accomplish greatness just because of their hearing. You can’t ever know that.

Children are full of potential and as a teacher you are supposed to give them a plethora of chances to do new things and learn new skills. By stifling them, you essentially are saying they don’t have any other potential to grow. And as a future teacher, it really makes me mad to see that their parents don’t also see their children’s potential. Not to mention that even if you are good at something, it doesn’t mean you are destined to be happy. In fact, I think many of the skills we have are better left as hobbies or something you do for fun. Making a career out of every little skill you’ve honed makes it just that, a job. And maybe not a fun one. They are just repeating a cycle that makes everyone miserable but “works” not for their children’s benefit but for their own because well, at least they are “safe.” Idk, I’d rather be happy but that’s just me.

This is also not to say that the many-ears’ issues are all created by them, clearly other demons are also to blame for this problem. A broken system doesn’t just sprout from no where, it is created by years of oppression and oppressive thinking. What demon wouldn’t take advantage of a race that seems powerless without the strength of the powerful? It creates a back and forth systemic issue that works in theory but is broken if you even think about it for two seconds. The many-ears cannot base their entire worth on their hearing, it just causes unaddressed pain and self worth problems. And not to mention, while it may be working out for them now, it isn’t sustainable. What if at some point demons decide they no longer want to rely on the many ears and start training others for the jobs they are known for? What if a disease or virus spreads that attaches their hearing? What if a large majority of them get hurt or injured, damaging their ears? Not to mention, on a small scale everyone can be disabled in their life time. If you become disabled with your hearing, you wouldn’t be able to fall back on anything. Because you based your entire existence on being able to hear well.

Ultimately, I think this is why it needs to be Nova or Nova in the future that needs to rule the many-ears because he’s living proof that your hearing not only doesn’t define you, but also that the system is built off ableist ideals. Nova should be seen as less valuable because he was born without excellent hearing, especially when he clearly loves and cares for his people. Change is built off the backs of not those in power but by those who’s been suppressed, who want to see change for themselves and for others like them. I hope Nova can see his own value even if his people don’t right now

[scamallach-1]

When fellow “US” settlers tell each other that they wanna learn about indigenous decolonial land back here on this land but then spend time making an issue about their time, saying they don’t really have time to educate themselves, my autistic ass is at a loss. Cus I’m stumped. You say you want to learn and then when provided with resources your regular response is that you don’t have time? I see it constantly, this excuse. In comment sections when people ask questions and then claim they don’t have time to read the answer; in my own circle when my fellows blab about things they don’t know and then when presented with correct answers and sources, they get quiet and say they just haven’t had time to look into it (yet that doesn’t quiet their mouths on shit they don’t know). We settlers need to ask ourselves right now what we are willing to change for the greater good. If you make a bed from selfishness then expect to sleep in it, I think.

I can’t make other people work decolonial edu into their schedules, I can only send them the resources directly from where I myself am learning about decolonization: the First Nations educators and historians and scholars and Black New Afrikan educators, historians and scholars. If you want to learn about this stuff - and you must - I think it does require making the sacrifices in your daily life necessary for you to be able to do that. Settler-colonialism has us in a chokehold so we need to be more than what it ‘allows’ in order to unlearn it!

I don’t know what other settlers want me to say? Do they want me to be wishy-washy with them about it? Say that whole “if you have time, please consider, sometime…” No, i am not gonna say that because I believe that is bullshit and nothing will get done with that passive attitude.

I do think we working class/poverty class/disabled settlers need to help each other be able to prioritize this education NOW. The indigenous and Black educators we learn from also have jobs, also have children they need to care for, have personal responsibilities and important things to do - and have active genocides against their people. They believe full-heartedly in working toward decolonial land back because of course they do. This is their lives, and not just individual by individual. They’re working for their people’s liberation in the face of settler-colonial genocides!

And so when we look at our work and school and family schedules - as settlers, no different in status than the “Israeli” settler occupying Palestine - and we prioritize our own overwhelm when we are asked to make the fucking space and take the fucking time for this imperative education, so we can be ready accomplices to decolonial action in the coming years, you gotta know how fucked up that is. We should no longer snap into this typical self-serving behavior!

No, I’m not going to say anything less than what I believe is factual, based on the edu ive so far learned from the indigenous and Black liberationists who are telling us, with their radical perspective and wisdom, what we need to do and how we should go about it, even as potential settler accomplices. Prioritize decolonial edu. Make fucking room.

We settlers should all help each other to accomplish this. Plenty of settlers like me with learning disabilities are out there trying to encourage others and make it easier for people to read the histories and theories. People break this information down for you so you can learn it in different ways (audiobook recordings, forum discussions, infographics that take a couple min to read, key histories in “less than 6 minutes”, YouTube interviews and discussions, podcast discussions, free book banks with PDFs, free articles). We have different ways of learning and in different stretches of time available - I really think what matters is that you work to get it done regardless of daily constraint. Show some solidarity. Working class settlers are not the center of the oppressed under settler-colonialism. We are the settler-colonialism. We must actually work to dismantle it by following FN leadership.

The idea that anything liberating and meaningful just falls into someone’s hands is a white supremacist lie.

What I wish is that in my circle at least, fellow settlers would say “I want to learn this but it’s hard and I need help, will you help me?” — to which I would do all I can in order to ensure they can learn. I have more time than others do because I work only part time due to my disability - but that is time I have to give to discuss, share, read-to others (I have dyslexia but I will fucking READ TO YOU because I know how hard it can be!) The point here is, if you begin your edu, you won’t be alone. Reach for support to make it happen and there will be people who will take the endeavor seriously with you.

But you have to be committed to learning this going forward. You have to actually want to begin learning about decolonial land back.

[moonblastbitch]

Yellow card update

Hi ya'll! So I barely use tumblr nowadays, but considering some stuff going on I thought it would be good to do a quick little come back.

So hi! I'm Kit, I write the griddlehark fic Yellow Card with my friend Starr. It's a very silly fanfiction about age difference Harrow and Gideon having an affair and raising a child together. It's pretty well known in TLT fan spaces which I'm super grateful for! It's not an understatement to call this little fic my pride and joy. I've spent the last two years working on it as my little labor of love and it's kinda grown a cult of followers! Really, it's a fun excuse for me and my friend to work on something we care about together. But lately I haven't felt inclined to work on it and I want to talk about why.

Over the last several months I've had some health stuff going on that's resulted in needing two surgeries. Along with that, I moved into a new place and my gf and I are managing some new financial stress. Plus, you know, the general state of democracy in decay all around the world. It doesn't leave me a lot of time or energy to write silly smut fic. Everyone has been very supportive of me taking the time I need to recover and I'm really grateful.

But... this is where I have to address some not great stuff. Today my friend approached me with a fanfiction making fun of my writing. And several posts from someone making fun of the tropes I use in the writing. Now, I want to make this abundantly clear. Absolutely no one is required to like my writing style or fics. I don't write for praise or wealth, just for my own personal happiness. I think everyone is within their right to complain to their friends if they dislike something they read. What I really can't tolerate however is this intense hostility toward myself or my fellow writers. Nor do I appreciate having an entire fic written mocking me or my stylistic choices.

Back when I first joined the TLT fandom in 2020 it was teeny tiny. Now it's a lot less so. It's been so satisfying to see everyone grow and change over the years, and I think I've grown a lot as a writer. Sadly though, I've seen a lot of stupid bullshit. I've seen personal friends of mine targeted in harassment campaigns because they ship the wrong ship. I've been added to public bookmarks complaining about my writing, I've been subtweeted, I've been made fun of. And I think I'm done.

I write for my own pleasure. I write to bond with my friends. I am not writing for homophobic assholes who use my work to mock me, nor make me or my co-writer the target of harassment. So, as a result, Yellow Card and all my other TLT fics are on an immidate hiatus, with the exception of one upcoming commission for the TLT for Palestine charity.

I spent a long time tonight debating if I should even write this post. It seems like by writing this I'd be giving the people making fun of me more ammo. But honestly? I don't care. My feelings are hurt. I am upset. I shouldn't have to hide that because some bullies will take bits of this statement to use in their next bitchy text post.

I want to reiterate something important. I am open to critque on my work. Anyone who has an issue with my writing style is more than welcome to come into my comments and let me know if something isn't flowing right, if there are unfortunate implications of a line I may not have considered, if there is something they personally find a bit distasteful. Sadly, the people doing this skipped right to mockery and ridicule, and that is unacceptable.

What drew me to this fandom in the first place was Muir's openness to her background in fanworks. She clearly takes such pride knowing her book series has spawned into a wild, happy fandom writing crack silliness and serious character study alike. Because that is what fandom is for. Having fun in a big beautiful sandbox, creating art with friends. And I treasure that deeply, even as I am forced to walk away from a space I love.

TLDR: TLT fandom is full of dicks. And not the kind I write about.

Thank you to everyone whose offered me kindness and support over the years! I truly appreciate you all. If you wanna stay in contact, it's easiest to find me over on twitter @moonblastbitch or discord (same name)

[jewish-vents]

first - i just want to say thank you for making this blog. it’s so important to know that we aren’t alone in the many things we’re experiencing and feeling right now, especially when so many of us have become painfully isolated as of late.

i apologize for how long this one is going to be.

i’ve been feeling so, so alone recently. my tumblr dash has been cut down to just a handful of jewish blogs that i can trust to be kind and understanding and nuanced, but it means that the majority of the content i see is about antisemitism and the war. after a while, it becomes draining to scroll through what feels like endless sadness. i turned to looking at fandom tags instead of following fandom blogs, but it makes me feel equally as insane to click on a blog about race cars and immediately see a post with 60k notes calling what’s happening in gaza “the new holocaust”. i started going back on twitter, but fan accounts on there too are only safe for a day or so before the account owner shares some awful antisemitic tweet from an account known to be an anti-jewish extremist. i went back on instagram briefly, but i was soon afraid to look at people’s stories for fear i’d see something terrible and lose yet another trusted person from my life.

in person, i have to walk by signs saying “zionism = genocide” and hastily scribbled palestinian flags with the colors in the wrong spot on my way to class every day. a wall across from my apartment says “BDS” in giant letters. i haven’t opened my curtains in months because of it. a “protest” of about 25 people stood in the center of campus and yelled and waved their fists in passing students’ faces, so jewish students didn’t go to class on any of the days they gathered. i only have one non jewish friend left at school - the rest abandoned me because i either called them out on antisemitic rhetoric or refused to go along with the idea that anyone, palestinian or israeli, muslim or jewish, is less than human. i had taken several of them along to our hillel’s seder in the past. i don’t know who i can safely go with this year. i have a few jewish friends, of course, but i love bringing goyische friends with little connection to judaism along to experience how joyful and loving jewish holidays can be.

it feels like there is no escape from this fucking war. it sickens me that it’s the only thing people pretend to care about - where is the attention for sudan, ukraine, armenia, uyghurs in china, syria, guyana? how is putting an emoji in your twitter bio or putting a translucent overlay of the palestinian flag on your tumblr icon any sort of real activism? how have we gone from “antisemitism is wrong” to “(((zionists))) control the world media”? it seems like the war is a fandom to these people. it seems like nobody cares enough to fully read and think critically about what they share, let alone do real research beyond looking at an infographic somebody shared on their instagram story. they’ll add on “don’t forget your click today!” to an unrelated twitter thread that went viral, flip the bird at the local starbucks, and put “won’t you free my palestine” on their instagram stories. they’ll anonymously tell a jew online to commit suicide. they’ll feel secure in the knowledge that they’re the perfect leftist, that this is somehow “good trouble”. all this praxis, and nothing to show for it but massive surges in hate crimes against jews. good job, guys! you singlehandedly saved every innocent person in gaza!

it’s isolating. it’s scary. jews can’t mourn. jews can’t be angry. jews can’t disagree. jews can’t suffer. jews can’t be whole, complex people with diverse beliefs and experiences. suffering is a game, and the goal is to hurt the most, scream the most, die the most, all to appease western leftists whose closest connection to war and violence was reading the hunger games in middle school.

i’m tired of it all. i want a peaceful and just resolution to the war. i want the mindless hatred everywhere to stop. i want to be able to scroll through social media and see nothing but fandom. i want to walk through campus with my magen david showing and all the friends i lost by my side on the way to the hillel seder. i want to open my curtains again. i know the experience of one diaspora jew is nothing compared to what people living in israel and palestine are currently going through, yet i still need this all to end. i don’t think any of us can go on like this, but we must, because we have. for thousands of years, we’ve gone on. that still doesn’t mean it has to be this hard all the time.

all i can think is “now we are slaves. next year may we be free.” now we are slaves to hatred and violence and suffering. next year may we all be free. next year may we all be in jerusalem.

.

[heartrobynn]

01. “The start of nothing.”

I ask everyone who interacts with this account to educate themselves, support, and donate to Palestine.

Please click to support Palestine, won’t take more than 20 seconds.

Author note: This is my first fanfic I’ve ever made, so if this is really butt I apologize on my behalf! 😥 I’d also really appreciate it if given criticism, so I can try to improve my writing!! Honestly, I was gonna scrap this because I hate how it turned out, but I would’ve felt bad since people were excited for it.

series masterlist

Word count: 1.6k

“BUZZ!! BUZZ!!”, the bulky alarm clock that sits on your nightstand sang. Mumbles escaped your lips as you slowly started to awaken from your slumber. Getting irritated from the repetitive siren, you forced yourself up and unplugged the whole device. “Fucking hell.”, you mumbled to yourself, already knowing today was gonna be a long day. Every semester, everyone’s schedule gets changed because you’re required to take 4 classes each semester, unless you have release time. Last Friday, everyone got their schedule and you came to find out you have no classes with your two closest friends, Arianna and Maia. Which you were really annoyed about because you don’t really talk to anyone else. (But hey, at least you guys have lunch with each other!!) It’s not even like you cannot make friends, you just kinda choose not to, better to keep your friend group small anyways. 

After staring into the abyss for 5 minutes, trying to gain your consciousness, you decided to do something productive and hopped in the shower. After refreshing yourself for the day, you decided to wear an oversized, multi neutral color sweater and some dull colored jeans that weren’t your exact size, but not exactly over sized either. You added some jewels to your fit, so you looked less dead. Not having the energy to put on your usual makeup routine, you decided to apply mascara to your lashes and wore your favorite lip combo. After you were satisfied by how you looked, you grabbed your headphones and headed down stairs. 

“Morning sleeping beauty, how was your sleep last night?”, voice coming from the man sitting down on the table chair, reading the latest newspaper like the old man he is. “Morning papa! My sleep was decent, wished I could’ve slept in though.”, you sigh as you’re putting on your UNIF Phoebes. “You know what happened last time I let you stay home, don’t need your mother being pissy towards me.”, your father opened his mouth to add on, but decided not to say anything else at the last second. You shift around in the kitchen, grabbing the chicken wrap you made last night and a bottle of water. Walking to the door to grab your book bag and stuffing all your items necessary for the day in it, “Alright, I’m leaving now. Stay safe, love you!”, you walk out the door to see Adrianna and Maia waiting for you.

You enter the back seat of the jet black Toyota Corolla, which belonged to Adrianna. As you enter the car, your ears immediately get blasted by the lyrics coming from the aux, however since it’s Window Seat by Erykah Badu, it's a valid excuse to be blasting music that loud at 7:15. “Hey boo, you look so adorbs today!”, your effortlessly pretty friend, Maia, tells you while staring at you through the rearview mirror. “Thanks my love, feel so shitty today, so that made me feel a little better”, you groan as you start to slouch in the car seat, dreading the fact y’all would be arriving at school in the next 10 minutes. Adrianna giggles at you, you were always the dramatic one out of the trio, “Trust and believe that you can last 3 periods without us until lunch. Plus, you could use this as an opportunity to get to know more people!” Maia nods her head agreeing with Adrianna. Even though you have Maia and Adrianna, your friends really were persistent in you meeting new people, especially since this was y’all last year, they just didn’t want you regretting missing out on so many opportunities. “Sighhh, I guess I could.”, you continue to slouch in the car seat, while Adrianna starts singing her own adlibs (that she swears up and down eats) and Maia groans in annoyance because she's gonna go crazy if Adrianna continues singing.

The first day with your renewed schedule wasn’t all that bad, but wasn’t interesting either. Well, not until your third period class. Your first period was Spanish IV, you sat in the back so you won’t gather much of your teacher’s attention later in the year. Even though you enjoyed learning Spanish, you hated when your previous Spanish teachers would randomly pick on you to read out a question or sentence they had on the board. Although, as you were seated in the back of the classroom, you noticed a certain auburn hair colored girl, she really only caught your eye because she was fast asleep during the little icebreakers your teacher showcased on the board. She was so into her sleep that you almost envied her, wishing you could sleep just like a newborn baby who just got breastfed just like she was. You whipped out your phone, not wanting to look like a creep for staring so hard and scrolled through r/AITA thread until class ended. 

When the period ended, you and your friends met up with each other so y'all could walk each other to class, even if y'all had to go separate ways. “Bro there’s this girl in my class and I swear she’s the love of my life.”, Adrianna dreamily sighs thinking about the girl’s captivating beauty and her alluring smile, while you and Maia give her the stankest side eye. “Babes.., this is like the 3rd girl you swore was the love of your life in the past 2 weeks.” Adrianna redirected her attention to Maia while you added on, “no actually, and then they be the most vile looking creatures I’ve seen.”, Adrianna rolled her eyes at the both of you raining on her parade, “Why can’t y'all ever support me? If I wanna fall in love with every woman I meet, y'all supposed to be my best wingmen.” Adrianna playfully argued with the both of y'all before the warning bell rudely interrupted. “Oh shit, we gotta go. I’m not tryna get caught up in the hall sweep again.” All three of y'all quickly scattered as y'all said your goodbyes, thankfully your class was nearby, so you weren’t late!

You walked into your calculus I class, only to find there was one seat left and it was right in the front too. You already knew you were gonna despise this class, as you sat down in the seat, your teacher began to pass out papers to the class, “To those who just walked in, I’m passing out a review paper of different pre-calculus problems to refresh your memories for next class because we’ll be getting straight into the lesson.” Students around the classroom mumbling and groaning in annoyance, all you can do is just sit in silence as you’re about to fall into your inevitable doom. Your teacher hands your own paper, you look at the first question, only to find out you’re completely cooked.

After that abominable second period, you decided to go straight to your AP Physics class rather than hanging out with your friends during the passing period because you wanted to have the opportunity to pick your seat without being limited. However, that wish got immediately crushed when you walked in the classroom just to see assign seats displayed on the board, “are you fucking serious right now.” you think to yourself trying not to crash out in the middle of class. You look at the name of the girl who sat right next to you, Abigail Anderson. You’ve heard good and bad things about the girl, but you didn’t know her yourself personally, so you didn’t really have your own opinion on her. You looked away from the board scanning the room to find y’all seats, only to see the muscular girl on her phone, paying no attention to her surroundings. You sat next to her feeling really awkward, especially since she didn’t even look up at you to acknowledge your presence. 

As the bell rings, your teacher starts to explain the reason why she has y’all in assign seats. Your seatmate is your assigned partner for any class work y’all have if it requires it and completing the study guides with each other, since the curriculum cannot be fully covered in class,  you and your partner are responsible for teaching it among yourselves. You quietly celebrate in your head, relieved from the awkwardness from having to find your own partner. However, that relief is short-lived as your partner, Abby, raises her hand up, drawing the teacher’s attention. “Is there an issue, Ms. Anderson?” Your teacher asks as she views her clipboard to make sure she addressed the girl's name correctly. “Are we allowed to request a new partner?”, right then and there, a surge of embarrassment washes over you completely. “Unfortunately no, In the real world you’re gonna have to work with people you don’t want to or don’t know, so you need to get prepared for that starting now!”, your teacher firmly says. You catch a scoff and a muttered remark from Abby, being reluctant about working with you. Normally, you’d let shit slide, but today your mouth moves before you can stop. “Alright, now you’re doing entirely too fucking much, acting like I desperately wanna work with you or something.”, Abby turns her head to face you, giving you an insulting gaze before opening her obnoxious ass mouth to speak again. “Not my fault you look like an insufferable person, I personally don’t wanna work with someone who’s gonna cause me headaches.”, as she continued to speak, the more agitated you were getting, how is she gonna label you as an insufferable person when she doesn’t even fucking know shit about you?? Fuming with frustration, you're about to respond when the teacher intervenes, “Alright ladies, calm down. I don’t need any of that happening in my class, if y’all have problems with each other y’all can solve that on your own time. Anyways back to what I said previously...” As the tension eases, your teacher returns to her lesson, though the uneasy atmosphere lingers in the air. Throughout the remainder of class, your mind could only focus on the things Abby said, unable to shake the irritation she caused. 

part 02. ??

Taglist:

@elliesactualgirlfriend @desireesfics

[mask131]

Some times ago, I posted about the vandalizing of the Wall of the Justs at the Parisian Shoah memorial. The post is here if you are interested, and it got many, many notes, so I thank you very much!

But I hope this post will also get as many notes - because we found the guilty party. We know who did it and... gosh, it sounds like a fucking joke but it is not, and it just proves how complex the situation is, and how dangerous the times we are living are.

If you recalled the obvious guilty party, the first suspects, the ones that seemed to have done that were the so-called "pro-Palestinian" activists that in fact are just antisemitic people disguising their hatred under the pretense of "fighting for Palestine". It is well-known that the pro-Palestinan manifestations, events and representatives in France have all versed at one point or another into very antisemitic comments or actions, and the movement is currently being parasited by antisemitism - ranging from actual antisemites who use "Zionist" as a way to designate all Jews, including French-Jews who never saw Israel in their life ; to people who are taking back antisemitic slogans without knowing they are antisemitic in the first place.

The reason the investigation directly was aimed at them was very simple: the red hands, or red handprints, is a symbol that many pro-Palestine manifestants have been using recently. Which, in itself, sparked a whole new debate - about whether it is an antisemitic symbol or not. Because while for some it is the universal "You have blood on your hands" symbol, for others it refers to the blood of a soldier of Israel on the hands of his murderer, during the second Infifada... And while attacking the Wall of the Justs would have been a new low and a new step for these left-leaning antisemites (because so far they only attacked Jews, now they would attack those that saved Jews and assorted Nazi victims during World War II), it was in line with a new form of radicalization of the movement - see the "Block Out" phenomenon on Internet, a cancel culture aimed at those that did not support enough Palestine... As a personal note I will say: where was all this energy and effort when the it was time to defend the Uyghurs against their wiping out by the Chinese regime? It is still time today, their suffering is still going on... But as a prominent Uyghur activist said (I think it was Rebiya Kadeer, but I do not have my notes with me so I might be mistaken) - people care less about the Uyghurs than Palestinians for one simple reason "Because it isn't Israel that is killing us..." It is China, and as a result nobody really cares...

Anyway, I digress... So while it is known, confirmed and recorded that the so-called "pro-Palestine" activists in France are slowly oscillating and sinking into antisemitism, it isn't actually them who did these red handprints. No, they're not guilty this time.

In fact it is something I talked about when I made my original post: there was another very likely suspect which would have surprised nobody. Neo-Nazis. Because while the pro-Palestinian movement is currently crystallizing in France the entire antisemitism wave that has been on the rise for a decade now among the extreme-left, the extreme-right political groups have also been gaining terran and strength for quite a long time, and now, we have actual neo-Nazi parties very vocal and active today... Due to the ungodly amount of terrorist attacks France had to face, due to the frightening strenghtening of radical and extreme Islam in France, due to the whole endless debates about immigration in France, and due to the hyper-violent civil unrests that are clearly just to cause chaos and nothing else (like the riots following the death of Nahel Merzouk, which clearly were not about the Nahel case and just to cause as much destruction and steal as much things as possible)... Well of course, when these types of problem arise, who gains the upper-hand? The extreme-right.

And so now we have far-right candidates so popular they have a good chance of being elected as the representatives of France, and we have many groups of antisemitic Christian fanatics popping up everywhere, and we have neo-Nazi movements literaly returning like some perverted phoenix from their ashes... As such, it was thought that maybe these red handprints could have been the work of a neo-Nazi movement, who would use the current situation to perform their antisemitic deeds while blaming the extreme-left for it... After all, the two movements have been currently doing the exact same thing. Before the Hamas attack, far-right groups were defacing Jewish cemeteries and soiling Simone Veil's grave with Nazi swastika ; and today far-left activists are "denouncing" Israel by... tagging on Jewish temples drawings mixing the six-point stars with a swastika...

So, you know, the typical horseshoe effect. The two extremes are literaly doing the same things, and as such we have a hard time differentiatng one from another.

But no... Turns out it isn't them either! Turns out... it isn't even French people who did this.

And here's where the dark joke comes... You know who did it? FUCKING RUSSIA OF COURSE!

We forget to so easily that Putin is literaly sending his agents in every friggin' political or social event that goes on in the world right now... And in fact that's the whole point: Putin wants us to be so obsessed with the Israel-Hamas conflict and how Gaza is trapped in it all, so that we forget about how Russia is currently destroying Ukraine.

The investigation found out that the people who painted these red hands were three men that had recently arrived in Paris from Bulgaria... They were staying at an hotel and the very day following their crime, they left France for Belgium (Bruxelles to be precise). Now... You're going to say "So they're just Bulgarians? They're not Russians, nothing proves its Russia". Except for one thing... While yes the involvment of Russia has not been "confirmed", Putin's Russia is not known for its vivid imagination... And they have literaly done the same thing some times ago.

If you recall, I posted about it before... It happened last october. Right after the Hamas attacked the music festival, causing the whole madness we are into today, blue David stars were painted on buildings where Jewish people lived, echoing the dark times of the Nazi Occupation in France... Here is the post I made back in February, and I couldn't guess how far things would go back then... While everybody was getting scared about the return of French antisemitism turned out... It was a group of people from Moldavia that was paid to paint those stars everywhere. Paid by... a pro-Russian, pro-Putin Moldavian businessman, Anatoli Prizenko.

You can read more about this on my old post, but investigation concluded it was indeed an operation where Russian forces used the Moldavians as puppets. All to cause fright and chaos in France. When you consider that Bulgaria, like Moldavia, is unfortunately today one of the "screen-countries" Russia likes to use to shield themselves when doing their dirty chores... Blue stars, red handprints... This is clearly the same thing, done all over again.

And where the "joke" part comes out even more - in the sense of a perverse, venomous, fetid joke part of some putrid dark comedy... Russia has currently been truly harassing France through all sorts of operations, each more outlandish than the next, and yet all working in their own way to cause fear and chaos... More specifically two cases are regularly being brought up.

Case 1: The Doppelgänger operation

In June of 2023, the French authorities warned about what was called the "Doppelgänger operation". A massive campaign of Internet misinformation created by Russia. The purpose was simple: create mirror-websites to the official websites of French information networks, newspapers and TV channels. They were almost identical to the official news outlet of France, to the point many mistook them for the real thing - sometimes the only difference you could spot was in the URL. ".fr" became ".ltd", and ".com" became ".cam".

And all those fake websites shared articles about the Ukrainian-Russian war, articles written purposefully to spread misinformation about Russia. Some claimed that the Ukrainian population were in full distrust of their government and wanted to see it brought down... Others wrote that all the Ukrainian operations were disasters and failures. Some invented fake tragedies and disasters in Russia to try to paint Ukrainians as the villains. And others yet wrote about how the donations of Europe to Ukraine were either wasted by the Ukrainians, or would cause economic crisis in European countries...

Case 2: The bed bugs hysteria

In september of 2023, the discovery of bed bugs on several public places in Paris was shared on social media. Some were discovered in a movie theater, the presence of others was attested in some subway lines... The social media being what they are, it became a hot topic talked about by everybody, shared by everyone - and the facts were exaggerated, and rumors started spreading, and soon an entire mass hysteria started overtaking France. It wasn't just Paris anymore, but all the big cities that were supposedly infested by "bed bugs". People claimed to find them in every public places - every theater, every subway line, every hotel, even in hospitals...

Turns out, there wasn't as much bed bugs as the social media wanted us to believe. It was mostly a sanitary mass panic, echoing the fear caused by the Covid epidemic and fed by the worries about the upcoming Olympic games. And... and also fed by Russia. Investigations revealed that there was a lot of fake accounts, troll accounts and bots created by Russian servers and Russian URLs, and who spent their entire time spreading and sharing bed-bugs articles, writing fake articles twisting the facts, and spamming everybody with news of this mass hysteria..

This is the sore and infuriating conclusion. Remember, everyone, that this isn't just about Israel and Palestine... It isn't just about the Hamas or Netanyahu... And we already knew that, because already in Europe it was clear this wasn't truly about what happened in the Middle-East - it was also about the shadows of antisemitism and the wraith of the Nazi presence, it was about the extreme-left movement spreading from the USA university down to European ones, it became a fight about the Jewish and Muslim populations in Europe rather than in Palestine and Israel - and even more, a political fight between the far-right and the far-left across the continent... But it isn't just about that anymore, because now Putin is in the dance and Russia is gleefully putting oil on the fire in hope it will burn everything... This is a fucked-up chess game with many, many players... That all look the same in the end, somehow, so it becomes hard to identify which one does which move.

But at least we know who painted the blue stars, and who painted the red hands, and who pits the extreme-left against the extreme-right, and is trying to make sure the Jewish people of France are feeling scared in their own country. Putin and what he turned Russia into.

[hero-israel]

How can you claim that Zionism was morally right, when what it was was European Jews coming to Palestine by the thousands and buying land, and when the Arabs realised what they were trying to do, i.e. steal land by making it sound reasonable to the British they should have the right to self determination, they rightfully tried to put a stop to it? If a lot of people come into a populated area and then ask for it to be given to them, since they’re so many, does it make it right for the people who were already there? And yeah, it’s true there was some Jewish presence there already but it wasn’t that much and it wasn’t them who started the Zionist movement. So how can you claim this was right?

You just said they were buying the land, and they were, so anyone thinking they were stealing it is already revealing major problems with racism, xenophobia, and conspiratorial thinking.

And by all means, let's talk about "immigrants" versus "people who were already there." From the 1850s to 1920s, the Ottoman Empire faced waves of refugee crises (the Crimean War, the Balkan Wars, the Russo-Turkish War, the Austro-Hungarian occupation of Bosnia-Herzegovina, and the beginning of World War 1) and decided to resettle OVER FIVE MILLION Muslim refugees all throughout its Mediterranean and Levant provinces. They sent hundreds of thousands of ex-Balkan and ex-Russian Muslims into southern Syria and what is now Jordan. These refugees founded the four largest cities in Jordan, including its capital Amman; of course, Jordan had been part of historic Palestine and the Palestine Mandate, and from the very first day they were able to govern themselves they passed laws banning any Jewish citizenship or inhabitation.

Am I supposed to see that as anything other than the most base, ladder-pulling racism? Do you really expect me to care that ex-Russian Muslims arriving in Jaffa in 1890 wanted to keep the ex-Polish Jews out in 1920? Between the Ottoman refugee resettlement and the large numbers of Arabs immigrating to benefit from new economic opportunities in a rapidly developing Palestine, the United Nations would later come to classify people as "refugees of the 1948 war" if they had been permanent inhabitants of Palestine any time before 1946. So many newcomers that just living there for two years made you a wizened, old-timer local, with a perfectly natural right to say nobody else can come in.

Where exactly are you starting history and whose immigration are you seeing as rightful, as just? In 1832, Egypt invaded Ottoman Palestine and established from nothing the new settler town of Abu Kabir; in 1948, Zionist militias depopulated it. Were the Arab settlers of Abu Kabir "indigenous" for the 116 years they were there? Because the major waves of Jewish immigration to Palestine started about 140 years ago....

There is no such thing as a legitimate history of the Levant that sees it as normal and morally / politically neutral for millions of Muslims to be resettled by various Muslim empires, but abnormal and dangerous for Jews to move in under their own initiative - usually out of desperation to save their lives - with no sponsoring empire at all.

Beyond that, if you took a few minutes to think of what your argument implies about the "Great Migration" of African-Americans to northern states in the early 20th century, or refugees crossing the Mexican border, and how white people responded to both, I think you would be less willing to make it, even anonymously.