#old jerusalem

[jontycrane]

Jerusalem Old City

One of the holiest and most contentious places on earth, the Old City of Jerusalem is a hugely historic area, significant to Christians, Jews and Muslims. Visiting it can be overwhelming, in terms of the maze of streets and number of people, including many tour groups. There are four main gates into the Old City, and a number of smaller gates. The Damascus Gate was the original entrance to the…

[illustratus]

The Visit of the Queen of Sheba to King Solomon by Edward John Poynter

[amone448]

📍البَلْدَة القَدِيمة - القُّدْس

[plstnyan]

Al-Aqsa mosque, Jerusalem, Palestine

[vox-anglosphere]

King Richard I met with his knights here to launch the Third Crusade

[valkyri]

NECK TATTS! NECK TATTS!

[blueiscoool]

'Exquisite' 1,700-Year-Old Lamp Bearing Temple Symbols Discovered in Jerusalem

"The exquisite artistic workmanship of the lamp, which was found complete, makes it outstanding and extremely rare."

A rare ceramic oil lamp dated to the late Roman period that bears images of items used in the Second Temple was discovered in Jerusalem, the Israel Antiquities Authority announced on Thursday.

"After the Roman emperor Hadrian suppressed the Bar Kochba rebellion in 135 CE, Jews were expelled from the city. The Mount of Olives lamp is one of the few material traces of a Jewish presence around Jerusalem in the 3rd-5th centuries CE," said Michael Chernin, excavation director on behalf of the Antiquities Authority.

The Antiquities Authority explained that the lamp was a "unique find" and that, judging by the soot marks on its nozzle, it was used about 1,700 years ago.

The Temple symbols that decorate the lamp include a depiction of the menorah used in the Second Temple, an incense shovel, and lulav (date palm branch used in Jewish ritual).

"The exquisite artistic workmanship of the lamp, which was found complete, makes it outstanding and extremely rare,” said Chernin.

Chernin also explained that the symbols on the lamp, which connected them to the Temple, were "particularly surprising" because there has been "very little evidence of the existence of a Jewish settlement in and around Jerusalem from this period."

Israel Antiquities Authority research archaeologist Benjamin Storchan said the lamp belongs to "the 'Beit Nattif' type, named after a production workshop identified in the 1930s near Bet Shemesh."

'Exceedingly rare' find

He explained that "oil lamps with menorah decorations are exceedingly rare, and only a few similar Beit Nattif-type lamps can be found in the National Treasures archive. The choice of symbols on the lamp is not accidental. This is a fascinating testimony connecting everyday objects and faiths among ancient Jerusalem’s inhabitants. It seems that the lamp belonged to a Jew, who purchased it because of its religious affiliation and memorial to the Temple.”

"It is evident that the lamp maker dedicated a great deal of time and effort to its decoration," Storchan added.

He then continued to elaborate on how the lamp was made, saying the maker "delicately and intricately carved limestone molds using drills and chisels."

"The molds were made in two parts (upper and lower). To create the lamp, the potter pressed the clay into the molds and then pressed them together. Finally, the vessel was fired, and it could be used. This method of producing lamps in molds allowed for refined designs, as well as the addition of delicate and intricate decorations," Storchan continued.

Heritage Minister Rabbi Amichai Eliyahu remarked on the correlation between the time of the finding and the Jewish holiday of Hanukkah.

"This unique oil lamp, which in an exciting manner bears the symbols of the Temple, connects the lights of the past with the Hannukah holiday of today and expresses the deep and long-standing connection of the nation of Israel to its heritage and to the Temple’s memory.”

Rabbi Eliyahu also stated that the lamp would be revealed to the public for the first time during Hannukah "alongside stone molds used to make ceramic lamps."

[i-am-aprl]

Historical photo of the day: Palestinian students at Birzeit College outside Ramallah, 1964.

Initially established as a girls school in 1924, Birzeit College would later become Birzeit University, one of Palestine's leading educational institutions today, and among the top 3 percent of universities worldwide, as of 2019 (according to the QS World University Rankings).

[postcard-from-the-past]

Via Dolorosa street in Jerusalem, Palestine

British vintage postcard

[eretzyisrael]

[remindertoclick]

Your Daily Reminder to Click for Palestine!

[webdiggerxxx]

old city, east jerusalem, palestine, 2013

[daniel-nerd]

IMPORTANT

the israeli fascism is moving on another level

the old city of jerusalem is a historic piece of land, with so much history across 4 THOUSAND years, it is illegally occupied by israel since the war of 67, was classified as ENDANGERED WORLD HERITAGE SITE since 82.

israel have NO RIGHT under international law to try and concur land from the 1600 years old armenian quarter!!

this is just another blatant violation of international law, in attempt to ethnically cleanse israel/palestine from ANYONE who isn’t jewish!! being covered by the horrific warcrimes committed in gaza.

in case you haven’t learned about WWI, armenians are also VICTIMS OF GENOCIDE, committed by the ottoman empire!!

I don’t care whats your opinion on the war in gaza, THIS IS ABOUT PROTECTING WORLD HERITAGE, PLEASE, BOOST THIS VIDEO, share the link on every platform you can, and donate as much as you can to help the armenians with the legal fight against israel!!

[amone448]

صَلَيْت على النَّبي،، جُمعة مُبارَكة 🤎

[artandthebible]

Jeremiah Dictating His Prophecy of the Destruction of Jerusalem to Baruch the Scribe

Artist: Washington Allston (American, 1779–1843)

Date: 1820

Medium: Oil on canvas

Collection: Yale University Art Gallery, New Haven, CT, United States

Jeremiah 36:32, New International Version

"So Jeremiah took another scroll and gave it to the scribe Baruch son of Neriah, and as Jeremiah dictated, Baruch wrote on it all the words of the scroll that Jehoiakim king of Judah had burned in the fire. And many similar words were added to them."

[whollyjoly]

for some reason i can't explain i know saint peter won't call my name

nothing that lives, lives forever - an immortal soldier!alton more au

(1.1k of snippets from my old guard(ish) au where alton more is old, too old, and has been living and fighting far longer than anyone should. full description/other thoughts at the bottom. tw: blood, violence, mentions of death)

Alton clicked the lighter closed, running a thumb over the silver case. The night was warm, sticky in a way that he never could get used to. He sucked in a breath from the cheap cigarette, letting his head fall back against the rough side of the barracks.

It was quiet. Typically, there would be no end to the commotion coming from the small building, one of many that littered Camp Toccoa. The wall of sound was ever-present, no matter if it was shouting or laughing or snoring. But whatever the cause, there was always noise. 

No matter if it was a blanket of noise he knew well, unchanging except for the language and the scenery. Soldiers are soldiers, and some things are a constant. It could almost be comforting, if it didn’t also mean that the need for soldiers was a constant as well.

However, tonight was a Saturday, and it was one of the few weekends that Sobel had allowed Easy the use of their weekend passes. Almost every man in the company had jumped at the chance to get off base, to travel home if they could and spend time with loved ones. The ones with farther-flung hometowns had spirited off to Atlanta, happy to spend their time drinking and dancing and fucking instead of slogging through another run, three miles up, three miles down.

Normally, Alton would have joined them in their carousing - it was easier to pass the time with the effortless camaraderie built during a training camp than bored and alone. 

But today had been a bad day. The sound of swords and the shift of sand beneath his feet followed him out of his nightmares, the humid summer of Georgia morphing itself into the baking, dry heat of the desert. 

His shouts must have been real, because when a hand came to shake him out of his dream, the first face he saw was not that of a grouchy NCO, but of a blood-caked Saracen, eyes alight with righteous fury. 

Alton didn’t think. He had grabbed the knife from under his pillow, an old thing that had been sharpened more times than he could begin to count, and was on the man in less than a breath, pressing the blade into the side of his neck. The familiar thrum of blood beat against his fingertips, the grit of sand scratched his gums. He knew what he had to do, had done it a thousand times, a thousand thousand times, what was a little more bloodshed spilled across his feet-

Alton had blinked, and came to himself in a rush.

Instead of an unnamed Saracen, the ashen face of Johnny Martin stared up at him, eyes wide behind the knife.

Alton drew back his hand, retreating almost as quick as he had lunged earlier. He mumbled a quick curse and apology as he stepped out of arm’s reach from the man. It wasn’t until Martin’s eyes widened even farther that Alton realized his tongue was slipping out Arabic of all things.

Usually, Alton was better about remembering himself, who he was almost as important as where he was. But for whatever reason, his demons had decided to catch up with him that night.

After a quick smile and some quip about the Krauts in his dreams, he managed to wave an only-slightly-mollified Martin off. The shorter man apparently hadn’t forgotten it though, if his watchful eyes during chow that morning were anything to go by.

Alton was just glad that no one else was awake to see it, at least. That was the last thing he needed.

And so, instead of joining in on a weekend of broads and booze, Alton found himself waving away the invitation by an eager Smokey and bemused Alley. When the horde made their way out of the barracks, fantasizing in bawdy terms about their planned misadventures, he felt like he could breathe easy.

Fucking finally.

~~

Alton took another drag from the cigarette. He watched the smoke curl, up and up until it faded into nothing amongst the darkening sky.

The lighter was a welcome weight in his hand, grounding him to this time, this life.

The design was worn by now, details barely visible after a half century of worrying. It still managed to amaze him, sometimes, what people could do with the smallest of canvases. Alton didn’t feel the same wonder however, wasn’t as mesmerized by the beauty man could create as he once was.

But in the quiet moments, he could still appreciate the time some French craftsman took to transform a hunk of metal into a small token carried around by a dead man.

Luz had spied the lighter one weekend, and laughed at him for using something so old-fashioned. Alton just shrugged, not caring to admit that he was still getting used to having a light at his fingertips. It wasn’t all that long ago when he was still lighting a pipe with a flintlock pistol, and not so long before that when he would carry around a flint and steel.

Time was passing all the more quickly these days, technologies changing and advancing, and everyone was obsessed with needing things to be quicker, cheaper, simpler. Alton scoffed. He could hardly find it in him to care.

He glanced down at the lighter in his hand, shifting it back and forth in a practiced motion and watched as the light skittered across the sides. 

It had shown flowers, once. A veritable garden of carnations, daffodils, and lilies of the valley, with leaves spilling across the front panel onto the back. They represent good fortune, he was told. Good fortune, luck, and hope. 

When the merchant described it to him, eyes ablaze with a passion known only to those with wares to sell, Alton didn’t try to hide the snort that escaped his throat. 

Fortune and Luck had abandoned him long ago, and hadn’t returned since waking up in a battlefield abandoned by all but the dead, sword in his chest and blood in his mouth. 

And what the fuck was Alton supposed to do with hope?

It was the quote on the back that had caught his eye, all those years ago in a street market in Reims. The beveled edges had faded with time, the familiar letters Alton traced were more memory by now than any physical mark. Une vie honorable est une vie éternelle.

An honorable life is an eternal life.

Alton couldn’t help but stare at the message, both then and now. He hated that goddamn word. Immortal. Unending. Eternal. 

They were such flowery words, used by people who craved what they couldn’t have, what they shouldn’t. The romanticized idea of the everlasting, the fountain of youth, the gift of life! Alton was sick of it.

This wasn’t life. He was a fucking dead man walking. And he sure as hell didn’t do anything honorable to deserve it.

months ago, while thinking about the absolute insanity of the almost...cavalier? attitude we see alton more have over the course of the series, an idea hit my brain: what if there was a reason nothing seemed to phase him - not panzers, not being a breath away from a car wreck, not bastogne, not speirs? what if this wasn't his first war? that thought spiraled me into a minor insanity that is this: my immortal soldier!alton more au, loosely inspired by the movie the old guard (2020). the idea is that, once upon a time, there was a soldier in a land many centuries ago. one day, he died in battle. and then, he woke up. and then he died. and then he woke up. over, and over. drawn to countless battles, conflicts, and wars, each one etching itself into the core of his soul. a never-ending cycle...until one sweltering summer, where he found himself at a training camp at the foot of a mountain. anyways. at some point, i plan on writing this as a full story, but that is admittedly a long ways away. however, in celebration of alton more's birthday today, i wanted to post my favorite scene that i've written for this au! it's set sometime at the beginning of the story, in the early days of camp toccoa. mostly, it's just a character study of this version of alton more. hope you enjoyed! and of course - happy birthday alton more!

(song insp.)

taglist: @sweetxvanixlla @coco-bean-1218 @bucky32557038ww2 @georgieluz @samwinchesterslostshoe @xxluckystrike @next-autopsy @ronald-speirs @land-sh @ronsparky @panzershrike-pretz @theredrenard @kyellin