#st furore

[snarp]

How to explain to animal that it will feel better if it lets me give it medicine so it should stop running and trying to hurt me and breaking things and such

-- question asked 1,000,000 times/day every day for millennia

[crossdreamers]

Was Jesus transgender?

Jay Hulme has written a fascinating thread about how theologians have understood the gender of Jesus. Even though no one thinks of Jesus as transgender in the modern sense, it is pretty clear that Jesus has been seen as crossing the gender binary.

Jay Hulme is a transgender poet, performer and education and you can find his web site here! Jay is currently Poet-in-Residence at ‘The Poet’s Church’, St Giles-in-the-Fields in Central London.

Recently there was some drama where news outlets got angry at a sermon which supposedly claimed Jesus was trans. Obviously the sermon did not say Jesus was trans - but it did touch on some fascinating (and very old) theology surrounding Jesus and gender. So let's talk about that.

God is not male

First I've gotta explain the Trinity... which is way too complex for twitter Suffice to say that God is not male (despite what you may have heard) and is in fact all genders and none simultaneously Jesus is God made flesh, God embodied as human. As a human man, yes, but also...

If you've been on Trans Twitter you'll have seen the "Jesus is trans" jokes. Saying his chromosomes had to be XX because he couldn't have got a Y from his Father. The meme about his side would being from top surgery But people have been playing with Jesus' gender for centuries

And the reason that people have been playing with Jesus' gender in art and theology and all that for centuries, is that Jesus gives us REASON to. So, of course, as we expand our understanding of gender in the modern world, we expand that to trans stuff too.

For all mankind

So lets talk about how, historically, the "Masculinity" of Jesus has been seen and considered, shall we?

So the whole point of Jesus is that he comes for ALL of humankind. We are told that we are all capable of, and supposed to work towards, being "christlike" - after all, Jesus is the embodiment of a genderless (or genderfull) God. The point is not that Jesus is a man, but a HUMAN.

And Jesus is clear about the fact that he didn't come as "a man" but "a human". So clear that all of the Gospel writers agree on it. In fact, throughout the Gospels Jesus never uses the word "anēr" (male/masculine) to describe himself. He always uses "anthrōpos" (human).

Jesus is the human incarnation of a God who is all genders and none, all at the same time; a God that has created each of us in their own image - all of us, of every gender - and therefore Jesus is not simply "male", but "human", and theologians have long recognised this.

Jesus as mother

Understanding that Jesus isn't merely "male", theologians have often described Jesus as a "mother" - most famously Julian of Norwich, who wrote in the 1300's, said: "Jesus Christ therefore, who himself overcame evil with good, is our true Mother."

Julian of Norwich also stated "The mother can give her child to suck of her milk, but our precious Mother Jesus can feed us with himself, and does, most courteously and most tenderly, with the blessed sacrament, which is the precious food of true life"

This idea of the sacrament as breast milk was not unique to Julian - many theologians drew the connection between these life giving things - even reflecting Rabbinic understandings of the Manna from Heaven as breast milk to create a long thread of understanding.

But one of the most "contentious" parts of the sermon that started this furore and started this thread is a particular (and long held) understanding of Jesus' side wound. Obviously, Julian has thoughts on that, too...

Julian says: "The mother can lay her child tenderly to her breast, but our tender Mother Jesus can lead us easily into his blessed breast through his sweet open side, and show us there a part of the godhead and of the joys of heaven, with inner certainty of endless bliss."

Jesus side wound

Medieval Christians were OBSESSED with Jesus' side wound. It was the highlight of artistic depictions, the focus of sermons, the content of visions. And one of the main things they saw it as, was some kind of portal...

And by "portal", I do, of course, mean vagina. And that's what the oh so contentious sermon said - "look, medieval christian art saw Jesus' side wound as a vagina. Let's talk about that."

The idea is that Jesus gives life. Like a mother giving birth. Jesus raising Lazarus from the tomb, Jesus himself rising from the tomb, they both involve the miraculous drawing out of human life from a dark cave, along a tunnel, and into the light. Sounds a lot like childbirth.

We say that Christ died so that we could live. The Bible says it a lot. Many theologians, living in a time where death in childbirth was common, and childbirth itself could be horrifically painful drew the connection between Christ's physical death on the cross and childbirth.

Theologians saw Jesus' agony on the cross as a form of 'labour' as he 'birthed' new life for all of us. And so, when the soldier pieced his side, proving he was dead, and "blood and water" came out, they saw that as the moment of 'birth'. Like blood and water come in childbirth

With that in mind, when an opening in a body brings forth water and blood, and in the midst of that water and blood comes new life... it's fair to think of it as a vagina. So medieval artists, depicting that moment, depicted Jesus' side wound as such. It was a thing.

The femininity of Jesus

There's also all the theology that surrounded Jesus' actions: theologians living in times of strict gender roles obsessed over the "femininity" of Jesus feeding and serving others. Even speaking to women as if they were equal. Of him taking the "feminine role" in his interactions

But this thread is already very long...

In summary: If you think it's heresy to see Jesus as "feminine" or "mother" or anything other than a masculine macho manly man, you're wrong. And if you think it's "modern woke nonsense", then you've not been paying attention to centuries of theology, or the Gospels themselves.

One day I'll do a whole thread on how it actually is Big Trans Vibes for God to shrink down to a single "gender" and body to walk among us as Jesus, and how weird that must have been for Jesus to suddenly be "male" and not "the genderweird vibe of God" but that's for another time

Ppl have been going BUT WHAT ABOUT 'THE SON OF MAN' and my friends, the earliest Gospels we've got are Ancient Greek and Luke 9:22 says "υἱός τοῦ ἀνθρώπου" υἱός is often translated as "male child" but regularly applies to female children ἀνθρώπου means "human / humanity"

Full twitter thread here!

Photo from the Norwegian play Jesus, the Queen of Heaven, where the Norwegian transgender pioneer  Esben Esther Pirelli Benestad played Jesus. Photo by Fin Serck-Hanssen.

[beardedmrbean]

Stood shoulder-to-shoulder in a crowd of 100,000 people in central London, a helicopter hovering above St James’s Park could be heard over the hushed crowd.

The hum was only a little louder than the rustling of winter coats and rhythm of feet along the pavement past old Fleet Street watering holes, less a march than a shuffle.

No flares were launched, no masks were worn. No vehicles were damaged and police acted as helpful hi-vis markers of the route, unburdened by the threat of violence. 

The dozens of riot vans brought in from across the South East sat unused.

The 1,000 police on duty had an easy day’s overtime compared to the demonstrations of recent weeks. 

“No, nothing at all. It’s been very calm,” one female officer told a protester who asked how her day was going.

One helped a bedraggled wayward jogger find his way out of the crowd and towards a less congested route. 

More marshal than law enforcement

Another gave a child on his father’s shoulders a high-five, before getting a pat on the back and a thanks from a Jewish man wearing a Kippah.

Their role felt more marshal than law enforcement, with only two arrests made. 

The biggest furore of the day was when Tommy Robinson appeared.

He was forced to leave by police, unwanted by the Jewish organisers of the event.

Boris Johnson, pictured above, received a much better reception, prompting cheers that broke the quiet when he arrived with wife Carrie and five-month-old Frank, chatting to demonstrators surrounding him.

David Baddiel, Judge Rob Rinder, Rev Richard Coles and Rachel Riley were all spotted in the hordes who had turned up to march against anti-Semitism along with the Chief Rabbi.

”Since Oct 7, on the streets of London, we have heard chants for jihad, for intifada and from River to the Sea,” said Sir Ephraim Mirvis. 

“But today we stand on the same streets of London and say with regard to our precious hostages: Bring Them Home.”

He headed up the mass of people moving through the Strand and towards Parliament Square.

 There was an awkwardness to the crowd’s chants. Many, on their first march, preferred to keep quiet than to join in the singing, with tunes dying out in moments.

‘It’s a bit tame! What do we chant?’

Some picked up last-minute Israeli flags on wooden sticks for £5 from outside Tube stations while others braved the drizzle wearing theirs like capes.

“It’s a bit tame, isn’t it? What do we chant?” wondered Olivia, a Jewish woman in her late 20s, there with her boyfriend and their friend.

Elsewhere, a mother pushing her baby in the pram walked her golden cocker spaniel puppy alongside.

Only when calls of “bring them home” began echoing around the streets did the heft of tens of thousands of people in mourning become apparent.

Three twenty-something men using a small megaphone led a rendition of Am Yisrael Chai. As hundreds join in, one jokes that he “does weddings too”.

They carried a banner stating “Failure to condemn Hamas is anti-Semitic”.  

Another sign saying “Give me antipasti, not anti-Semitism” became a prop for protesters to pose with, while a child was heard reading another out loud “Spread hummus, not hate”.

Jews were supported by non-Jews. Six-year-old Claudia held her mother Antonia’s hand as the family joined the rally because they were “appalled that anti-Semitism has returned to Britain’s streets”.

Mark Elliott-Smith, a  priest at Our Lady of the Assumption Warwick Street, said: “I thought I had to be here and show solidarity. I’ve been on a few of the demonstrations. When I wrote something about it [anti-Semitism], I was called ‘a Nazi priest’.”

‘I’d feel safer in Israel than in Britain’

Rev Coles, bringing up the rear of the protest, said he had joined because many of his Jewish friends now feel frightened to walk down the street. “I find that intolerable,” he said.

Rueben and Natalie, a young, Jewish, married couple with family in Israel came out to march. 

Natalie said that she would “feel safer in Israel, even as the bombs are falling, than in Britain”, her husband nodding wearily. His three brothers live there already.

“At least in Israel you feel like the state is looking after us, that the police are there to protect you, that the whole nation is with you,” he said. “It doesn’t feel like that here.”

The protest culminated with speeches from political and religious leaders. 

Anti-Semitism ‘a stain on our country’

The crowd’s reception to the speakers was muted at first, but immigration minister Robert Jenrick won over the crowd in Parliament Square, telling the thousands packed around Parliament that anti-Semitism “is a stain on our country”.

“Your government will not rest until each and every one of [the hostages] is back in the loving embrace of their families. We stand with Israel,” he went on.

Peter Kyle, there as member of the shadow cabinet and vice chairman of Labour Friends of Israel, spoke after Mr Jenrick warmed the crowds up.

“After the most shameful period in my party’s history, I am enormously proud of the leadership Keir Starmer has shown in combating anti-Semitism and standing up for the British Jewish community,” he said.

It was this that drew the biggest cheer of the afternoon, before the crowd went quiet again as they began their journey home. 

Gideon Falter, the chief executive of Campaign against Antisemitism which organised the march, said: “The voice of decency has been heard today.”

[gorbalsvampire]

On Mass Combat

There are mass combat mechanics in Dark Ages Vampire's Storytellers Guide, but...

Look at it this way. There are a few key principles to fitting mass combat into an RPG, and if you follow them all you don't really need a mass combat system as such.

0) Your players don't want to sit there and wait

This is rule 0 for a reason. I once sat through an interminable Star Wars D20 game in which the GM's particular flavour of brain worms meant he had to roll attacks and damage and reactions for every combatant in a scene before he described what happened. It's not that he had no imagination, it's just it wasn't fair if he didn't roll, and it wasn't fun if it wasn't fair. Or maybe he just hadn't thought about adapting the standard "declare, roll, describe" process of RPGs for an encounter with dozens of active participants. Either way, it was a terrible way to spend an afternoon - and I like rolling dice for attack after attack after attack, when it's a wargame. When I turned up to roleplay, it's just false advertising.

1) Only the PCs' dice really matter

You're running this scene for your players. They're rolling for their characters. Dice that have nothing to do with their characters don't need to be rolled. Really, this is an extension of Rule 0, but turned sideways so it becomes advice rather than an excuse for an anecdote. I'm a big fan of "only players roll" in general for RPGs and for the way the ST systems work, it really helps to set the players a roll against a target number and have margin of success or failure decide consequences.

2) Just because it's combat doesn't mean you have to roll combat pools

Mass combat is a chance for Leadership to shine. In V5 I would consider something like Resolve or Composure + Leadership to be the best possible roll for a player trying to command a mass battle. In older editions that don't have the good stat grid, sub in a Mental Attribute of your choice - I'd say Perception for the first round, Wits if something surprising happens, Intelligence to close the engagement favourably. If your player isn't in a leadership position I think it's better to roll a few Stamina + Melee/Brawl/Firearms/Atheletics rolls and inflict superficial/bashing damage equal to the margin of failure than to sit there modelling it all out exactly with the four rolls per attack that conventional combat needs. You could even break out a Composure + Survival for a character who just does not want to be there. Again, I have V5 brainrot and I know it, but "three and done" is such a good way to stop system creep and keep the sessions moving.

3) What are you using mass combat for in story terms?

Maybe this one should have come first, I 'unno, but this is the thing about mass combat - a lot of the time the systems seem written to simulate it happening without asking what it's doing in the story. Is it a command challenge, for PCs who are trying to command a small army for whatever reason? Is it a social challenge, for PCs who have to lead that army and keep up its morale? Is it an endurance challenge, for PCs who are built to throw hands to a degree no mortal could match? Or is it something that's happening around the PCs, a kind of environmental hazard that they need to negotiate on their way to achieve something else? (This is my favourite way to use mass combat - my Dark Ages game had, er, several city sacking sessions during which PCs were trying to traverse the fires and the furore to rescue so and so or stop such and such escaping or simply to escape.)

I hope all this has shown that you can include a mass battle in your games without needing a ton of new rules (that you won't use very often so they're a faff to learn, internalise and run at table anyway). Quite often, less is more, and you can boil down a situation into something you can represent with unusual uses of the conventional rules.

[randomestfandoms-ocs]

Itty Bitty OC Recap

this is 100% just to make my own life easier but a tiny little quick recap of new ocs!!

1. RWRB ocs

2. Troy Donahue Callisto, Gilmore Girls, fic title new romantics & shipped with Logan Huntzberger also maybe finn tbd, also fic title delicate & shipped with @the-witching-ash's Richie that's the verse that matters, face is Taylor Zakhar Perez

3. Harry Bechtel, Gilmore Girls, also in new romantics/delicate, ship tbd, face is Nicholas Galitzine

4. Topher Charming / Christopher James, descendants, chad's older brother & currently second in line for the throne, fic title tbd, ship is evander grimhilde, face is Nicholas Galitzine

5. Evander Grimhilde, descendants, fic title tbd, ship is topher charming, evie's older brother and tbh big brother to the entire isle, face is Taylor Zakhar Perez

6. Marnie Fitzwater-Hood, descendants, fic title tbd, topher's best friend, face is Ellie Bamber

7. Electra "Ellie" Jackson, pjo oc, fic title Oceanic Feeling, daughter of Poseidon & Sally Jackson, Percy’s twin sister, face is mckenna grace

8. Pyrrah Jackson, pjo oc, fic title Lighthouse, daughter of Thetis, raised by Sally Jackson, slightly older than Percy, face is Sadie Sink

9. Haz Torres, gossip girl reboot oc, max (& aki & audrey?) ship, face is Taylor Zakhar Perez

10. Nolan Van Der Woodsen, gossip girl oc, serena's older brother, blair ship, face is Nicholas Galitzine

11. Vicki St James, gilmore girls oc, sookie's daughter who moves to stars hollow start of s2, jess or oc ship, face is Ellie Bamber

12. Laura Hyde, stranger things oc, series is Things We Lost In The Fire, books are Seek (s1), Furor (s2), Albatross (s3), and Oblivion (s4), poly ronance oc probably, face is Ellie Bamber

13. glee ocs

14. Thalia Lightwood-Lewis/Thalia Lovelace, shadowhunters oc, adina lightwood & simon lewis/lovelace daughter, face is Rachel Zegler

i think that's all of them but just trying to keep track for when i suck it up and deal with masterlists rip

[onewomancitadel]

Cannot stop thinking about the idea that women represent sites of cultural anxiety, Whore of Babylon to the 'welfware queen', it's misogyny as a communicative device within society - reassuring in some ways, symbolic othering in others, scapegoating in most. I often think about the utility of misogyny (that is, incentive to be misogynistic) because I don't think its existence is arbitrary, and in this case the idea I'm very specifically interested in is its use as a narrative device. Because in their own ways, these collective archetypes represent projected cultural anxiety, not just because women are responsible for everything, but because the signifier of woman is so significant. It's a related thesis to the role of women's testimony in the Bible (the Mary Magdalene finds Jesus after resurrection) or women's speech in ancient Near Eastern texts (Epic of Gilgamesh) and even the Homeric, in that because of the absence of women's speech within society, it is significant when they speak (and potentially carries magical qualities).

I was thinking about this for a few reasons - the role of women in storytelling generally, an emergent curiosity about feminine archetypes in fiction - and I suppose what I would call a dissatisfaction with the easy position that mostly when you're talking about female characters, you're talking about the presence, or lack thereof, of misogyny. It feels limiting in its own way I suppose, because then I think that leads to the current problems we've got, which is that writing women is a feminist responsibility, and not a work in the human condition, and in which case the didactic responsibility of that depiction - have you or have you not empowered women? - effectively stymies storytelling abilities at all. It's the natural answer to the idea that the work of storytelling for 4,000 years was specifically to disempower women through depiction, and to be entirely frank I think that gives too much power to narrative. This is actually an extremely common issue encountered in the disciplines of archaeology and anthropology, that is, relying on cultural depictions through mythology to draw conclusions about that extant culture, and in which case I would say is also an ongoing source of contention, so you'll not find a definitive answer from me - I think from the get-go, a 1:1 assumption about how women (and indeed goddesses) are depicted is some sort of representation of an 'ought' model in society is probably wrong, though.

The reason I made this post just now is I was thinking about Grimes, because she just released the music video for So Heavy I Fell Through the Earth, and it made me think about how she takes on the cultural otheredness of her erstwhile romantic companion and billionaire, E/lon M/usk, and how female artists (especially trans and/or Black female artists) represent the cultural decay of celebrity, and the complicated cultural responsibility celebrities are endowed with. Just look at the furore over Taylor Swift's ability to potentially sway the vote in the next USA election, or the failure of her to speak on the I/P conflict (because if she did, this speech would be powerful). She's a site of political discourse, and worry about the emerging picture of the American Democrat voter, who happens to be female (both politically irresponsible for not voting for a third party, or not joining the communist revolution, or caring too much about abortion/trans rights/racial justice, or being one of those feminist harpies responsible for the collapse of civilisation), as it's projected that men are swerving more conversative - which women are also responsible for - including the new topic of straight men's loneliness (read: sexual/romantic loneliness) which women are responsible for and which only women can fix. Woman as site of inevitable decay!

But also that Grimes in this case represents the worst of the feminine artist - makes her own music (this is called into question by gossipmongerers), acts strangely, dares to have children mid-career and therefore compromises her artistic identity - to listen to her music is as bad as supporting her. No, I'm working towards a point here - I think there is something specifically anxiety-inducing about people choosing to consume women's art, who represent those sites of cultural anxiety, because it's considered tantamount to having the same opinions as her - that women's speech is actually dangerous because of this potent cultural symbolism. (I worked in the women's testimony thesis). The same sort of anxiety is not applicable for male artists, not generally speaking (people wouldn't ordinarily harrass you for it, or performatively demonstrate their not listening to it - Chris Brown is still charting by the way), because it simply doesn't carry the same cultural symbolism - men's political beliefs, moral actions, injurious behaviour, etc. is considered distinct from their cultural output. I'm not saying one or the other is worse - or necessarily a discrete phenomenon - women in general are expected to be both conscious creators and conscious consumers. Just look at environmentalism - more women are environmentalists, and there's a perception (I am not citing the survey here but I'd say this is generally true) that eco-friendly products are girly. Women as sites of environmental/cultural anxiety. Birth rates dropping? Thesis evolving.

The reason I think it's interesting that women carry this cultural symbolism - that misogyny here is achieving something within society, in some way, that this type of anxiety comes with a function not arbitrary, or at the very least enjoys useful application if not origin - is effectively also to say that women are models within society. That they are models of beauty, moral sensibility, the general fertility of society, the political growth of society, the decay of society, the power of women as guides in every walk of life - is actually pretty significant, and I don't really see this idea discussed when deconstructing and trying to challenge misogyny. Nowhere am I trying to suppose that misogyny is good - what I am trying to say is that if you feel despair as to why it persists, it's a much more complicated issue as to why it does at all.

I also think that there is generally an exhaustion with misogyny - the discussion of feminism's purpose, its aims, what it can achieve (which seem to be always everything and nothing at the same time) - and within the frame of storytelling, I think that the didactic aim, whilst noble (attempting to empower women?), misses the point. To identify why it doesn't work - that is, to recognise what purpose misogyny served in storytelling before - is necessary to understand how to fix it. So what do you do with that cultural symbolism and weight? What do you use it for? I introduced the celebrity element - is that even a responsibility they ought to have at all? Now, if you were to turn the thesis on its head, that is, what do male characters enjoy in storytelling - is that better or worse?

Better or worse in what sense, one supposes - because the storytelling quality of women, women's speech as magical inducement of delusion, or corruption - is in itself pretty potent, here I'm thinking of Odysseus, it seems to me that if the essence of storytelling is its humanistic quality, then you would hope that all characters would be able to enjoy this range in their own way. You're going to laugh, but I can't help thinking of the fandom belief that in RW/BY, Cinder is responsible for I/ronwood's actions in V7/8 - that his actions are depersoned by attribution to a woman's actions. Isn't that dehumanising in its own way? I'm not saying this is tantamount to violence - what I am saying is that I think it's strange how this idea of moral responsibility or lack thereof goes unchallenged.

But that is the convenience and the utility of women's culpability - because it is lazy, and useful. Sometimes, I fear that the simplest answer to misogyny - transmisogyny, misogynoir - or racism, or ableism, or homophobia, is that it's lazy. Not always, of course, but let's say you have a best friend who sexually assaulted another woman at a party (he touched her without permission), a girl you don't know, do you do the hard thing and cut off that friend, get justice for a stranger, or support the person you know? Too many people spend their time considering these situations in thinkpieces and not looking at the reality around them. This isn't just misogyny - this is Jake deciding it's too hard to stand up to his friend. If you knew Jake, you might decide just to tell him to fuck off - that's your interpersonal decision - but what I am also thinking is that Jake is spineless. This is something a lot of us go through. It's very hard being alive and trying to make the right decisions, and to decide whose testimony to trust, and sometimes I think it does us all a disservice when we only read this through the lense of [MISOGYNY 1+ / -1] and not the world in which that misogyny functions.

More specifically, how it is that storytelling interacts with, and reflects human motivations interests me, but also that it is a deep mysterious pit of the human psyche. When it comes to the question of writing a 'good' female character, the position seems to be - well, before, the bad female character conveyed the figure of women to be oppressed, now she is endowed with the opposite power. I think that this is untrue in both senses. I think that this is limiting, and not interesting, and speaks to the belief that storytelling bears social responsibility, not just is a reflection of those attitudes (of everything), which ends up with characters who are dehumanised anyway. If the empowered female character must represent every woman, bearing that cultural weight of responsibility women are already endowed with, I suspect you've not achieved much.

[lazuli-writes]

Verdict

summary: Daphne has to sit through Ron’s trial

pairing: Daphne Greengrass & Ronald Weasley

genre: angst / fluff / slice of life

estimated word count: 3300 words

a/n: Remember folks, copying other people’s works is plagiarism and that’s illegal. Don’t be that kind of person. Anyways, hope you all enjoy it :)

©little-lazuli. Do not copy, repost, or translate without permission

“Do any esteemed members of the Wizengamot wish to further question the defense of Lord Consort, Ronald Bilius Greengrass?”

Daphne smothered the immense rancor that sought to swallow her whole as she witnessed the trial before her. Her fists clenched, sitting on her lap as her knuckles shined white. Her eyes, pools of bronze fire. Thinned lips and her spine, tight and aligned perfectly. The scowl on her face was nothing more than apparent. Her breathing heavy yet silent. The ire within the witch’s soul barely contained as she watched the asinine, tedious, and irrevocably moronic excuse of a trial take place.

She wanted to be happy, joyous, hopeful at how Ron was assured of his release. Especially after the court replayed a collection of memories from herself and Percy. As well as the contrived entrance of the believed-to-be-dead, Madam Amelia Bones. Nothing could quell the fury within her however, as she looked down at the thin, iron cage. Barbed and for sure enchanted, holding her disheveled and gaunt husband. 

It had barely been a couple of minutes after being released from St. Mungo’s when the insipid fool John Dawlish, waltzed in and arrested Ron. She’d never forget that day. She’d never forget the dodgy prick that was John Dawlish, and how he was just ‘following orders’ to ‘collect all leads’ on presumed death eaters. The way Ron—heavily supported by both her own arms and that of a cane—seemed content in kissing her nerves away, caressing her worries out of her thoughts. As if she hadn’t just been told that Ron would be arrested for being a suspected monster. That he’d await his trial not in some holding cell in that blasted ministry, but in FUCKING Azkaban.

Daphne promised him something in those short and bitter moments before he was led away like some damn game waiting to be slaughtered. Promised she wouldn’t rage over him. Promised she wouldn’t exact some form of petty revenge on Dawlish, or Head Auror Robards or even that blasted excuse of a minister, Kingsley Shacklebolt for not stepping in sooner. 

Of course she didn’t keep that damned promise.

Auntie Muriel’s visit to the Ministry not even an hour after Daphne’s floo call was supposedly something of a furor if she remembered correctly. Dawlish was nearly sent running for the hills as he saw Lady Muriel Prewett lead her close friend, the Lady Augusta Longbottom, into the auror office. Dawlish’s ego and knackers still sore from being nearly obliterated when he tried to apprehend Augusta a year prior.

Daphne figured that would have been enough of a ruckus if she was out to defend a friend. Had it been for Tracey or even cousin Theo—had they survived the war—then that would have been sufficient. But not for her husband. Not for the wizard Daphne had come to love. Not for the epitome of an honorable and loving man that Daphne called her’s. 

And so some missives here, some owls there and a couple of floo calls later, had the entire Weasley clan up in arms at the atrocious behavior exacted on the youngest Weasley son. Daphne even considered bribing the Daily Prophet, but she knew better than to waste a knut on the vulture that was Rita Skeeter.

There was Arthur and Percy Weasley, Daphne’s least favorite and most favorite of Ron’s relatives, respectively. Both eager in Ron’s defense. Arthur, entering a near screaming match with Robards himself. All the while, Percy traveled to France with Audrey. Gathering testimonies and support from the refugees Daphne and Ron both aided in the past few years.

Molly had her wand out and ready, her sons William and the twins at her flanks, as they had cornered Minister Shacklebolt in the atrium. The way the Weasley matriarch’s voice reverberated in the halls of the ministry was almost intoxicating for Daphne. Watching as the tall and sturdy man called minister almost toppled, struggling to answer Molly’s bombardment of threats and questions. Enjoying as Robards had been chastised publicly amongst the crowds of the atrium by Arthur, Shacklebolt, and even Potter. She almost screamed in glee at how Dawlish fidgeted as glares from both Robards and Shacklebolt shined down upon him. Daphne could almost call it a victory.

But Ron still had spent three days imprisoned before an appropriate amount of the Wizengamot could attend and instigate a proper trial. Hence Daphne’s current predicament. Her bitterness at Ron’s treatment was intensifying as Daphne stared at him. 

Those rags they called a uniform did nothing to warm Ron. She was sure of it. Three days out of the hospital and he looked ready to spend another tenure there again. Lips chapped, cheeks gaunt, black bags beneath his eyes. Shoulders slumped, body shivering, right arm holding his stomach. Hair matted and messy, his metal arm that replaced his amputated left nowhere to be seen. His bandages that rode up two-thirds of his left leg—still healing from Bellatrix’s blasting curse and splinching from his escape of said curse—now were dirty, maroon, damp and possibly overused. Daphne seethed at the mere thought that he would have caught an infection. The shine in Ron’s right eye was no longer there. It looked almost as dull as the blinded left eye of his.

Yet he still smiled. He smiled as he caught Daphne’s brown orbs. His smile, reassuring. Genuine and so softly filled with love. Daphne only got angrier, so embittered at how someone as sweet as Ron, was forced to endure so much. It wasn’t fair.

“Seeing as there are no objections, may the vote commence.” Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt, the current overseer of Ron’s trial, commanded.

Daphne felt the woman beside her tense up, obviously filled with dread at the more negative possibilities that could happen. Molly Weasley was in the same boat as she, visibly enraged, fearing every worst possible outcome of either verdict, bitter at Ron’s continued torture in this life. Daphne couldn’t blame her, the elder witch has had a rough few months.

Daphne never thought her relationship with someone such as Molly would flourish the way that it did. The Lady of Greengrass had recognized the moment she met Molly back in fifth year, that she didn’t appreciate Daphne’s presence. Granted, Daphne did believe it may have had something to do with how rotten her connections to Fred, George and Ginevra were all that time ago. Daphne guessed however, that believing that your child was dead for some time might give some perspective.

Daphne would never admit it, but seeing Molly rush through that hospital room door, tears racing down her face, jaw shivering and eyes hopeful. It was pleasing for Daphne to see someone in Ron’s family still caring about him, with as much devotion and love as she had for the red headed wizard.

•••

“RONNIE!?”

The younger witch jumped as the door to the fourth floor room slammed open, eliciting a tiny shriek from Daphne.

Before her stood a sobbing mother, Molly Weasley. Daphne hadn’t seen her since her and Ron’s secret attendance at William’s wedding. Back then, the Weasley matriarch was the epitome of a tough and winsome mother. A witch at the possible height of her glory. Now, the Prewett daughter stood with tears racing down her face, chest heaving out quick and heavy breaths. Hair, slightly littered with grays and white, within the sea of red. Eyes large, wet and shining… glimmering with hope.

“M-Mrs. Weasley?”

Molly was stock still, staring down at the blonde witch, who sat exhausted in a chair next to the empty bed. 

“Where is he?”

Daphne barely heard her, unused to the mouse like whispers coming from the typically loud matriarch. 

“Ron?”

Molly nodded her head fiercely, wiping away at the rivers that streamed down her face.

“He’s in surgery right now.”

Molly collapsed to the ground at that, her sobs taking precedence as she shook almost uncontrollably at Daphne’s words.

Daphne shot up from her seat, ignoring the tiredness in her chest and the ache in her legs. Quickly coming to the elder's aid, Daphne tried her best to calm her down, but Molly was relentless in her eruption of emotion. Sorrow, elation, melancholy, joy. Molly was a roaring ocean of uncontrollable sentiment as the news of Ron’s life took her off her feet. 

It took a while—consistent circle rubs of the back, some hugs, some whispers and coos of comfort and relief shared amongst the two witches—before Daphne could successfully aid her unknowing mother-in-law to a chair to sit. Once the mother gathered a semblance of composure, she finally looked to Daphne.

“How…”

Daphne cocked her head in confusion.

“How… How did he survive?” Whimpered Molly. Leaving Daphne even more confused at the direction of the conversation.

“What do you mean Mrs. Weasley?” Daphne  was nothing but lost, completely and utterly perplexed at Molly’s question.

“I-I… I thought h-he-“ Molly sniffled hard, wiping away at the renewal of tears that threatened to spill. Daphne held her breath, starting to depict at what the Weasley matriarch was inferring. 

Taking another moment to regather her composure, in a painful and soft voice, Molly finished her qualm, “I thought my son was dead.”

Daphne, leaning back against the bed as she stared down at the sitting Molly, was now motionless, internalizing Molly’s words. The mere thought of such acting as knives, skinning away bits and pieces of her soul. Ron wasn’t dead. He barely survived the battle, but still he did. And now he was for sure going to survive this surgery and series of rituals to aid in his healing. Back-to-back dealings with a blasting curse, splinching and a dark magic infection was not something so easily dealt with. But she was adamant in Ron’s strength. He was gonna survive again. He will live.

“Why did you think he was dead?” Daphne couldn’t help but ask. Refocusing her attention on the woman before her, throwing any possible dark thoughts out of her mind. 

“Fred and P-Percy… they said Bellatrix had thrown a blasting curse his way. T-That he didn’t make it” Molly paused, sniffling slightly before continuing, “all they found was his wand and a crater.”

Daphne felt it all click in her mind, understanding fueling her lungs as she thought of Molly’s words. 

They didn’t see Daphne pull Ron back. Ron had barely succeeded in apparating his brother’s and himself away from that exploding wall. They weren’t expecting Bellatrix to join Rookwood in his assault on the three brothers. And so when Rookwood took his turn to duel both Percy and Fred, Bellatrix unleashed her fury on Ron. Enraged at Ron for Daphne’s role in what happened at Malfoy Manor. Daphne internally screamed at herself, still regretful for her role in Bellatrix’s miscarriage. Because of her, Bellatrix attacked Ron. Because of her,  she failed to pull Ron completely out of harm. Because of her, Ron had splinched and still suffered getting hit by some of the debris from that blasting curse. Because of her, Ron was here in St. Mungo’s, and Daphne had no clue for how long. And the guilt only culminated in that moment when Daphne realized… Molly and perhaps Ron’s entire family believed him to be dead… ever since the battle. That was a whole fortnight ago. 

“I apparated him out of the way. As the explosion happened.”

Molly closed her eyes, silently thanking all those above as she digested Daphne’s words. Her son, her baby boy, her Ronnie is alive. The terror and burden of burying one of her children was all for naught. The noose of a parents' pain was unraveled and Molly couldn’t help but feel like breathing again, if only for a bit. The fight wasn’t over in Molly’s eyes. Ron was still fighting for his life. And by everything right and good in the world over did Molly hope, pray and beg that Ron would survive. That he would come back to her. 

“Mrs. Weasley…” Daphne asked, hand on Molly’s shoulder, eyes searching for a sign that Molly was alright, “are you okay-”

Daphne was cut off by Molly’s body suddenly smothering her. Arms wrapping around brutally, bringing Daphne’s head in a soft embrace of Molly’s shoulder. The elder’s arms wrapping around in a snakelike grip. Holding Daphne close as the blonde felt wetness spill upon her hair. It took Daphne only seconds to realize that Molly was sobbing silently as she kept Daphne in a blustery hug. 

“T-Thank you Daphne!! You saved my boy!”

Daphne barely registered Molly’s words as she just simply returned the hug, trying and failing to match Molly’s ferocity in the act of hugging. If she didn’t die over her constant worrying for Ron, then Molly was sure to kill her with the way she squeezed Daphne into a mush. 

Eventually releasing one another, Daphne leaned back as Molly sat down, both regathering themselves. In that moment, Daphne’s culpable aura compelled her to apologize. 

“Mrs. Weasley… I am so sorry. Had I known I… I would have alerted at least one of you of the truth. That he was okay.”

Molly smiled as she shivered, accepting but also dismissing her words, for the mother held not a drop of ire for the blonde witch. 

And from there, the two witches sat in a comfortable stupor. Exchanging stories and thoughts that were left unsaid. Molly apologized profoundly for her coldness towards Daphne at that dinner two years ago. Daphne relayed her regret for not doing more to alleviate Ron’s stressful relationship with his family. Molly gave her condolences for Daphne’s and Ron’s loss of both family and friends—Daphne had teared up at the reminder; Astoria, Theo and Tracey were gone, Ron was all she had left. Daphne commended the elder on her defeat of Bellatrix. Molly explained how she had thought that “bitch” had stolen her son from her, and how the “bitch” attempted to take her daughter as well. Daphne revealed the truth in Bellatrix’s sudden obsession for Weasley blood and her role in it. Molly only smiled softly, taking ahold of Daphne’s hand and squeezing it in consolation.

Curiosity struck both women at the same time as they each asked the heavy questions that weighed down on each other’s minds. 

Molly queried over Ron’s surname, asking about why when she arrived, there were no one listed as a patient, under the name of Weasley. Not the way Daphne would have preferred Ron’s mother finding out the young couple married but it was what it was. Daphne was more uncomfortable having to explain why Ron took her name versus she taking the name Weasley. ‘He didn’t want to give a name he was deemed unworthy of.’ Molly had tried to hold her tears back… she failed.

Daphne inquired about Molly's discovery of Ron being.. alive. Molly simply said ‘My Clock. My clock never lies.’ leaving Daphne to fill the blanks in by herself. Of course she questioned further, leaving Molly to explain how ever since he had been disowned and thrown out, Ron’s hand had remained firmly on “Traveling” even after his false demise, it remained on the same spot. Until that day, it moved to “Hospital” as Daphne brought Ron in. This led to the blonde witch explaining that though she had healed most of the injuries he sustained, she hadn’t recognized that he was suffering from a dark magic infection that was reopening his wounds. This only furthered Daphne’s guilt at causing Ron more pain.

Hours of comforting words, innumerable questions, truthful answers and a calming peace had passed before the hospital room door opened. 

Molly gasped, shaking in her spot, new tears gathering at her eyes but not falling, as the form of her sleeping son was pushed in on a gurney. He was levitated unto his bed neatly and lightly before Molly moved forward. Laying a soft kiss and a couple of tears on his head. Gripping his right hand in her own as she held the warm flesh of her Ronnie once again.

Daphne didn’t miss the way Molly’s heart broke, trailing over Ron’s figure. His left eye, now blinded and closed, had the tiniest traces of thin scars. His entire chest, torso and left leg were wrapped in bandages, the conjoined smell of blood and healing potions releasing a stinging stench into the room. His left arm, completely lacking its defiled lower half. And still Ron lived. He just needed some time.

•••

Two months, two weeks, five days and eight hours was what it took for Ron to heal from his infection. For Ron to be able to stand on his own. To walk with little support other than another fellow or his cane. For him to adjust to having one working eye—Daphne still agreed with Molly in wanting to get him a magical glass eye but Ron had refused, and Daphne’s heart hurt too much to want to fight him on anything as of late. 

Dawlish must have thought he was lucky, cornering the young couple, the day of Ron’s release. Molly, Arthur or any of his siblings hadn’t stopped by yet for their usual visits, it was only six in the morning. Daphne wanted to hex him into the next century, but Ron kept her cool. Calmed her down. And now three days later, she watched the result of her letting Ron be taken from her.

“All those in favor of conviction, please raise your wand,” Not a single wand was held, granting a wave of appeasement to seep into Daphne’s soul. “All those in favor of clearing the defense of all charges, please raise your wand.”

Daphne figured that every single member of that Wizengamot possessed a fraction of a brain, for every person voted in Ron’s favor, solidifying the wizard as free.

“With that taken into account, I hereby pronounce the Lord Consort, Ronald Bilius Greengrass, cleared of all charges.”

Daphne didn’t wait for the closing formalities to take place, instead gathering her gown up into her hands as she sped out of the courtroom. She led herself to the auror’s department, awaiting for Ron to be released. The scowl on her face worked wonders in warning the many workers present to shove off.  Not that Daphne cared, her eyes focused itself on the fool Dawlish, escorting a limping Ron out from behind the cell hall doors. 

Enveloping Ron into her arms as soon as she could, Daphne sighed as she felt him all but sink into her embrace. With the way his head rested on her own, she’d never get over his height. The way his calloused hands held her ever so softly. Daphne could stay like that forever, and die with a smile upon her face. It wasn’t to last though, Daphne knew Ron needed help, and she’d be damned if she didn’t get it.

“I told you not to worry Daph.”

Daphne chuckled as tears began to escape, pulling back to overlook her love once again before asserting herself as his crutch. As Dawlish made his exit after retrieving Ron’s cane, Daphne helped Ron forward, heading inevitably for St. Mungo’s once again.

“How could I not Ron?”

It was Ron’s turn to chuckle, leaving a soft kiss from his chapped lips upon Daphne’s temple. 

“You know” Daphne looked up briefly, still trying her best to help Ron move forward, “I heard a rumor about a certain blonde witch… turning the ministry on its head after a certain ginger was locked up.”

“I have not the faintest recollection of what you speak.”

Daphne’s words elicited more laughs from the redhead. Daphne smiled hearing Ron’s giggles. 

“Not one? Not any at all?”

“None.”

With the way Ron laughed again, Daphne finally felt at ease. Finally allowing herself to calm down and accepting that everything might just be okay again.

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

“Two, Lost in James Bay Region Undergo Perils,” Montreal Star. November 4, 1932. Page 1. ---- Cleveland Youths Forced by High Seas to Seek Refuge in Trading Post — Missing for Month ---- CLEVELAND, Nov 4— (Star Special) — The rigors of the Canadian North have made but slight marks on Robert and Dorr Ralph, the two young sons of a Cleveland minister, who were lost near James Bay for more then a month and who now have returned home and resumed normal life. The Ralphs, the elder of whom is 21 and the younger 19, came back so unostentatiously that officials both here and in Canada were under the impression that they were still lost.

On a prospecting trip the two youths wished to cross James Bay from Rupert’s House and started on the 18-mile journey despite the advice of the old-timers who advised them that the only possible method at this season of the year was to follow the coasts. High winds and heavy seas, time after time, nearly swamped their frail canoe and they found when it was almost too late that the old timers had been right with their advice. 

TRADING POST REACHED Turning their boat and riding before the wind they finally reached a Hudson's Bay Company's port and managed eventually to make their way back to Rupert's House, the point from which they had started more than a month before. 

Meanwhile, trappers and Royal Canadian Mounted Police engaged in an extensive search for them and as no sign of them was seen as they made their way south, the search continued long after they ware safe and sound. 

The Ralphs were very modest in speaking of their exploits. They would say little that amounted to more than a mere bulletin to the effect that they had been delayed by bad weather and had been compelled to change their plans. They seemed to be unaware of the furore caused by their disappearance, a furore which in some parts may not yet have abated.

RETURNED FROM THE WILDS Robert and Dorr Ralph have gone back to their home in Philadelphia after having been lost in the St. James Bay district. RCMP and numerous trappers searched for them in vain. They found their own way home. Both grew bears while in the wilds, but Dorr had shaved his by the time this photograph was taken.

[thoughtlessarse]

Vaughan Gething is quitting as Welsh First Minister after four members of his Government resigned and demanded he left office. He said he had “taken the difficult decision to begin the process of stepping down as leader of the Welsh Labour Party and, as a result, First Minister” and will now discuss a timetable for the election of his successor. Mr Gething lost a vote of no confidence in the Senedd following rows over his decision to sack former minister Hannah Blythyn and a furore about donations he took while running to be Welsh Labour leader, while Labour’s co-operation deal in the Senedd with Plaid Cymru has collapsed.

continue reading

That Gething wasn't up to the job was evident from the start. Off the bat he faced a vote of no confidence, which he lost but refused to leave. I'm surprised he lasted longer than Truss did in Downing St.

And so ends Britain's dalliance with Brown prime and first ministers. It's gammon all round, again.

[jeonghyeseo]

WK10. Poststructuralism

Post-structuralism promotes a deep understanding of reality through diverse interpretations. In this regard, I reflected on the MBTI personality assessment, which has become popular in Korea. MBTI categorises individuals' personalities and behaviour patterns into 16 types, offering amusement and aiding in understanding oneself and others more easily. However, some people tend to overly generalise and judge individuals solely based on MBTI, forming stereotypes and prejudices.

Through this, I understood the positive impact of deconstruction on our cognition and perception. It reminds us that we can't entirely define a person by a specific type and necessitates acknowledging their flexibility and engaging with them from various perspectives. Deconstruction allows us to uncover new meanings in previously defined concepts. This broadens our perception, stimulates critical thinking, and enables richer interactions with the world.

In design as well, deconstruction plays a crucial role in problem-solving and creative activities by dismantling and recombining existing thoughts and values. By re-thinking conventional design approaches, we can generate new design ideas and, through considering various perspectives on problems and dilemmas that arise during the process, we can find deeper solutions by restructuring the relationships between design elements.

Additionally, deconstruction is crucial in design, particularly in language use and communication. It helps to deeply understand the messages conveyed by each design element and their interactions, enhancing effective communication. This provides flexibility and provides new perspectives when it is difficult to break free from the reference’s style and generate new ideas. This approach aids in identifying innovative solutions and understanding the context and significance of design work.

(257 words) 

Thomas Heatherwick's interview

Thomas Heatherwick is a renowned British designer, globally recognised in various fields such as architecture, urban planning, furniture, and product design. Rather than following the traditional academic design that only emphasises aesthetic standards or functionality, he undertakes various global projects with unique artistic approaches and design thinking.

In his interviews, I could sense his creative thinking, as he offered unexpected answers. In one interview, he responded with the ambitious idea of building a prison for things not yet attempted. Despite the negative impression that the word "prison" brings in his interview, he expressed his desire to redefine traditional architecture, from which I could sense post-structuralism.

References:

"Thomas Heatherwick Interview: The Designer Talks About the Furore Surrounding the Garden Bridge." The Independent, www.independent.co.uk/news/thomas-heatherwick-interview-the-designer-talks-about-the-furore-surrounding-the-garden-bridge-a6721861.html.

[snarp]

Mournful-eyed beast.

[amitapaul]

6/1

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#24GloPoWriMo

Prompt Dated : 2024 April 1

Response No : 1

Poem No: 6

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Prompt : A poem that recounts the plot, or some portion of the plot, of a novel that you remember having liked but that you haven’t read in a long time.

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Featured Poem :

A Sword

Grant me this in the darkness,

Stay the chattering din.

Shrug off the weighted judgment

Spark the light within.

When words are weapons of terror

When scorn is a theatre of war

Let my wit time unknit in the furor

Heart’s wisdom that came before.

The guard derelicts their duty

The magistrate strays from his word

It falls to my pals to protect me

Together we wield the sword.

For Transgender Day of Visibility

March 31, 2024

Glenn Mitchell

The Clothes have no Emperor

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Poetry Resource :

Tom Snarsky’s X account

This year, our poetry resources will focus on social media accounts (though we’ll have a few other things, too) that regularly post poems from books, magazines, and elsewhere, letting you discover new-to-you poets, and just get a quick fix of poetry from time to time. Today’s resource is the twitter account of the poet Tom Snarsky, where you will find a plethora of poems to peruse!

Is it true

that only by having first passed

through absolute despair

can we arrive at anything close

to self-knowing?

Carl Phillips

Then the War

From

Tom Snarsky’s Twitter Account

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Prompt :

Today, we’d like to challenge you to write – without consulting the book – a poem that recounts the plot, or some portion of the plot, of a novel that you remember having liked but that you haven’t read in a long time.

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Poem Title :

The Book Whose Title I Forget

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Was it a vision, or a waking dream ?

Funny thing is, I forget its name,

I mean the title of the book.

Some very ordinary word

or phrase, obviously.

It was about this girl,

this child growing up,

her mother dead,

and her father and her grandfather

fighting for her custody

perhaps also for her love

though her father is a man

of no emotion

while her grandfather

has an excess of it

with the added sadness

of her mother too

having grown up without a mother

for most of her childhood.

You find yourself identifying

with this growing child

shuttling between

the cold austere widower’s world

of her honest but vain

selfish and unemotional

strict and self- absorbed

father

and her warm angry troubled grandfather

owner of a decaying inherited estate

in North Bihar

ravaged by floods

suffering from neglect

as he struggles to come to terms

with the death of a daughter he loved

but could never understand

and a grand- daughter

whose father he hates

but whose loyalty he wants

though it hurts that she is so much

like the daughter he never understood

and the wife whom he adored

but who died too young.

That house

Those gilt sofas with their brocade covers split

and the plastic foam bursting out in places

Those crimson velvet curtains

musty with the smell of flood waters

never fully dried out

a fat grey- green- black lizard clinging

to their tasselled golden cords

That Bhutanese carpet

with a puffing Chinese dragon fading out

as mould catches hold of it

Those Burmese teak floors

and the green patina on the copper fleur de lys

adorning the black rails of the estate boundary wall

three of which, enlarged,

formed the picture on the book cover—

I remember them vividly.

And I remember speculating about who the girl was

among the real life people I know.

I often recall the story

and wonder why it stays with me

though I do not remember its title

or the name of the author,

or even the names of the characters.

I remember the name of the river : Kosi.

What compels memory

so selectively,

so strongly ?

( ASA )

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Poet : Amita Sarjit Ahluwalia

Poem 6 /1 st Day

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[miyclarheffbid1973]

fußballer max kruse

🎰🎲✨ Erhalten Sie 500 Euro und 200 Freispiele, plus einen zusätzlichen Bonus, um Casinospiele mit nur einem Klick zu spielen! ✨🎲🎰

fußballer max kruse

Max Kruse, geboren am 19. März 1988, ist ein deutscher Fußballspieler, der für seine beeindruckende Karriere und sein außergewöhnliches Talent bekannt ist. Er begann seine professionelle Karriere im Jahr 2006 bei Werder Bremen und spielte später auch für Vereine wie Borussia Mönchengladbach, VfL Wolfsburg und Fenerbahce Istanbul.

Kruse wurde in Reinbek, Schleswig-Holstein, geboren und entdeckte schon früh seine Leidenschaft für den Fußball. Als Kind zeigte er bereits außerordentliches Talent und wurde schnell von Talentjägern entdeckt. Er durchlief verschiedene Jugendmannschaften, bevor er schließlich den Sprung in die Bundesliga schaffte.

In seiner Karriere hat Max Kruse zahlreiche beeindruckende Erfolge erzielt. Er gewann den DFB-Pokal 2015 mit dem VfL Wolfsburg und erreichte sowohl mit Borussia Mönchengladbach als auch mit Werder Bremen die UEFA Europa League. Darüber hinaus wurde er mehrfach als einer der besten Spieler der Bundesliga ausgezeichnet.

Abseits des Spielfelds ist Kruse auch für sein exzentrisches Verhalten bekannt. Er ist ein leidenschaftlicher Pokerspieler und nimmt regelmäßig an großen Turnieren teil. Darüber hinaus engagiert er sich sozial und setzt sich für wohltätige Zwecke ein.

Kruse ist auch international erfolgreich und hat für die deutsche Nationalmannschaft gespielt. Obwohl er nicht Teil des deutschen Kaders für die Weltmeisterschaft 2018 war, hat er in der Vergangenheit sein Können auf höchstem Niveau unter Beweis gestellt.

Max Kruse ist zweifellos ein herausragender Fußballspieler und seine Biografie ist geprägt von Erfolgen und spannenden Geschichten. Mit seinem Talent, seinem Ehrgeiz und seiner Leidenschaft für den Fußball hat er sich einen Platz in der Fußballgeschichte gesichert und wird auch weiterhin die Fans auf der ganzen Welt begeistern.

Max Kruse ist eine prominente Figur im deutschen Fußball und hat im Laufe seiner Karriere für verschiedene Vereine gespielt. Geboren am 19. März 1988 in Reinbek, begann Kruse seine Fußballerlaufbahn in der Jugendabteilung von Werder Bremen.

Seine professionelle Karriere begann 2007, als er einen Vertrag beim FC St. Pauli unterzeichnete. Bei St. Pauli konnte er mit seiner beeindruckenden Leistung überzeugen und zog das Interesse größerer Vereine auf sich. Im Jahr 2009 wechselte Kruse zum SC Freiburg, wo er seine Fähigkeiten weiterentwickelte und sich als Torschütze profilierte.

Nach seinem erfolgreichen Aufenthalt in Freiburg wechselte Kruse im Jahr 2013 zu Borussia Mönchengladbach. Hier konnte er seine Klasse erneut unter Beweis stellen und erzielte wichtige Tore für sein Team. Seine Leistungen blieben auch dem Bundestrainer nicht verborgen, und im Jahr 2013 debütierte er in der deutschen Nationalmannschaft.

Nach seinem erfolgreichen Aufenthalt bei Borussia Mönchengladbach wechselte Kruse im Jahr 2015 zum VfL Wolfsburg. Hier konnte er seine technischen Fähigkeiten weiter verfeinern und wurde zu einer äußerst wichtigen Stütze des Teams. In Wolfsburg gewann er 2015 den DFB-Pokal und hatte großen Anteil daran.

Im Jahr 2019 wagte Kruse den Schritt ins Ausland und unterschrieb einen Vertrag bei Fenerbahçe Istanbul. Hier setzte er seine erfolgreiche Karriere fort und konnte auch international auf sich aufmerksam machen. 2021 kehrte er zurück nach Deutschland und schloss sich dem 1. FC Union Berlin an.

Max Kruse ist bekannt für sein technisches Können, seine Torinstinkt und seinen Einsatz auf dem Spielfeld. Seine Vielseitigkeit ermöglichte es ihm, in verschiedenen Positionen zu spielen und seine Torgefährlichkeit unter Beweis zu stellen. Er kann als ein herausragender Spieler in der deutschen Fußballgeschichte angesehen werden und wird auch in Zukunft sicherlich noch für Furore sorgen.

Max Kruse ist ein bekannter deutscher Fußballspieler, der in seiner Karriere zahlreiche Erfolge und Auszeichnungen errungen hat. Geboren am 19. März 1988 in Reinbek, begann Kruse seine Profikarriere bei Werder Bremen im Jahr 2007. Seitdem hat er für verschiedene Vereine in Deutschland und im Ausland gespielt, darunter Wolfsburg, Mönchengladbach und Union Berlin.

Eine seiner bemerkenswertesten Errungenschaften ist der Gewinn des DFB-Pokals mit dem VfL Wolfsburg im Jahr 2015. In diesem Wettbewerb setzte sich das Team im Finale gegen Borussia Dortmund durch und sicherte sich den Titel. Kruse spielte dabei eine entscheidende Rolle und erzielte in der Saison insgesamt fünf Tore.

Darüber hinaus wurde Max Kruse auch mehrfach für seine individuellen Leistungen ausgezeichnet. In der Saison 2012/2013 wurde er beispielsweise als bester deutscher Stürmer der Bundesliga mit dem Silbernen Schuh ausgezeichnet. Diese Auszeichnung erhält der beste Torschütze, der die deutsche Staatsbürgerschaft besitzt.

Im Verlauf seiner Karriere erzielte Kruse insgesamt über 100 Tore in der Bundesliga und etablierte sich als einer der erfolgreichsten deutschen Stürmer der letzten Jahre. Seine technischen Fähigkeiten, sein Torinstinkt und sein außergewöhnliches Zusammenspiel mit seinen Mannschaftskollegen trugen maßgeblich zu seinem Erfolg bei.

Neben seinen sportlichen Erfolgen wird Max Kruse auch für seine soziale Verantwortung und sein Engagement für wohltätige Zwecke geschätzt. Er ist ein Botschafter für die "Kinderhilfsorganisation Plan International" und setzt sich aktiv für benachteiligte Kinder ein.

Max Kruse hat in seiner Karriere zahlreiche Erfolge und Auszeichnungen erzielt und bleibt sowohl auf dem Platz als auch außerhalb des Spielfelds ein Vorbild für junge Fußballspieler. Seine Leidenschaft für den Sport, sein soziales Engagement und sein Teamgeist machen ihn zu einer wahren Inspiration für viele Menschen.

Privatleben von Fußballer Max Kruse

Max Kruse ist nicht nur ein talentierter Fußballspieler, sondern auch eine interessante Persönlichkeit in seinem Privatleben. Abseits des Spielfelds gibt es einige bemerkenswerte Aspekte, die über den Fußball hinausgehen.

Ein bedeutender Teil von Kruses Privatleben ist seine Leidenschaft für das Pokerspiel. Der Fußballspieler ist bekannt dafür, an professionellen Pokerturnieren teilzunehmen und dabei beachtliche Erfolge zu erzielen. Seine Fähigkeiten am Pokertisch haben ihm nicht nur Anerkennung eingebracht, sondern auch ein beträchtliches Vermögen.

Aber es geht nicht nur um Glücksspiele, Kruse ist auch ein engagierter Tierschützer. Er setzt sich aktiv für den Schutz von Tieren ein und unterstützt verschiedene Tierschutzorganisationen. Insbesondere liegt ihm der Schutz von bedrohten Tierarten und die Erhaltung ihrer Lebensräume am Herzen.

Des Weiteren zeigt Kruse eine Affinität zum Musikmachen. Er hat eine Vorliebe für das Gitarrespielen und nutzt seine musikalischen Fähigkeiten, um sich zu entspannen und kreativ zu sein. Es ist bekannt, dass er gerne entspannte Musikstücke komponiert und diese mit Freunden und seiner Familie teilt.

Neben diesen interessanten Hobbys ist Max Kruse auch ein Familienmensch. Er genießt es, Zeit mit seinen Angehörigen zu verbringen und sie bei bedeutenden Momenten in seinem Leben teilhaben zu lassen. Kruse zeigt sich gerne als liebevoller Vater und Partner.

Obwohl Fußball seine größte Leidenschaft ist, demonstriert Max Kruse, dass er auch außerhalb des Sports ein vielseitiges und spannendes Privatleben führt. Seine Interessen reichen von Poker und Tierschutz bis hin zur Musik und seiner Familie. Es ist inspirierend zu sehen, wie er seine Leidenschaften außerhalb des Spielfelds auslebt und sich sowohl persönlich als auch sozial engagiert.

Max Kruse, der talentierte deutsche Fußballspieler, hat im Laufe seiner Karriere einige Kontroversen erlebt. Hier sind fünf der bekanntesten:

Pokerleidenschaft: Im Jahr 2015 wurde Max Kruse kritisiert, nachdem er bei einem Pokerturnier in Berlin gesichtet wurde. Die Medien berichteten ausführlich über sein Hobby und ob dies seinen Fokus auf den Fußball beeinträchtigen könnte.

Geldbündel-Affäre: Im Jahr 2016 sorgte Kruse erneut für Aufsehen, als er sein Geldbündel in einem Taxi verlor. Dies führte zu öffentlicher Kritik an seinem Verhalten und wurde als unprofessionell angesehen.

Jackpot-Gewinn: Ebenfalls im Jahr 2016 gewann Kruse einen Jackpot in Höhe von rund 75.000 Euro in einem Berliner Casino. Dies führte zu weiterer Kontroverse, da er damit in Verbindung gebracht wurde, seine Aufmerksamkeit vom Fußball abzulenken.

Disziplinarstrafen: Während seiner Zeit beim VfL Wolfsburg und bei Werder Bremen erhielt Kruse mehrere Disziplinarstrafen wegen unprofessionellem Verhalten. Diese reichten von verspätetem Erscheinen zum Training bis hin zu öffentlichen Kontroversen mit Trainern und Teamkollegen.

Nationalmannschaftsrücktritt: Im März 2019 trat Kruse überraschend aus der deutschen Nationalmannschaft zurück. Dies führte zu Spekulationen über interne Unstimmigkeiten und Kontroversen innerhalb des Teams.

Es ist wichtig anzumerken, dass Max Kruse trotz dieser Kontroversen ein talentierter Spieler ist und in seiner Karriere bemerkenswerte Leistungen erbracht hat. Dennoch lassen sich diese Kontroversen nicht ignorieren und haben dazu beigetragen, dass er oft im Mittelpunkt von Diskussionen stand.

[kuiperguertel]

die tagesklinik für mein praktikum (am 8.4. gehts los) läuft nach dem weddinger modell. das ist nicht diesselbe "revolutionäre" klinik, wie die, in dem es im artikel geht, aber ein ableger.

zitat aus dem artikel:

TSP: Sie beide haben vor fünf Jahren im St.-Hedwig-Krankenhaus angeregt, was in Fachkreisen als „Weddinger Modell“ Furore macht. Was ist hier so anders? LM: Wir haben mit klinischen Strukturen gebrochen, die nicht hilfreich sind. Wir entscheiden nicht über die Patienten hinweg, sondern besprechen die Therapien mit ihnen zusammen. Es gibt flache Hierarchien bei allen Mitarbeitern, Ärzten, Pflege, Therapie… Die Angehörigen werden bei uns mit einbezogen. Wir gehen flexibel auf die individuellen Bedürfnisse der Patienten ein. Das ist es in aller Knappheit. TSP: Das klingt überaus vernünftig und gilt doch als Revolution. Was hat Sie denn in der traditionellen Psychiatrie so auf die Palme gebracht? LM: Nehmen wir einen alten Mann mit einer Depression, der zu uns zur Behandlung kommt. Dann kann es passieren, dass sich ein Team zusammen setzt und sagt, der hat die und die Diagnose, also muss er dieses Medikament nehmen, es wird ein Therapieplan gemacht: Er soll die Antidepressionsgruppe besuchen, die Hauswirtschaftsgruppe… Alle wollen nur das Beste für diesen Menschen, der aber nicht aktiv einbezogen wird. Es ist doch Hybris zu sagen, Therapien wirken, weil wir sie so nennen. Wenn der Mann nicht in die Haushaltsgruppe will, heißt es, der ist nicht therapiemotiviert. Ich sagte dann, Leute, wenn ich im Alter depressiv bin und muss bügeln, dann suizidiere ich mich! Ich hasse Bügeln, ich habe noch nie ein Bügeleisen angefasst. Eine Therapie kann doch nur wirken, wenn sie die Interessen dieses alten Mannes berührt, seine Ressourcen berücksichtigt.

klingt ja erstmal frech, wa. ich bin gespannt, ob der alltag den idealen dieses artikels gerecht wird. diese haltungen und das modell sind offensichtlich von antipsychiatrie-kritik geprägt.

was wohl "radikalere" menschen aus zb dem weglaufhaus zum konzept sagen würden? (hörbar: https://radiocorax.de/gehoert-die-psychiatrie-abgeschafft/) das weddinger modell ist ja keine abschaffung der psychiatrie, sondern setzt die kritik (vielleicht) sehr gut um. zitat Lieselotte Mahler aus dem Artikel:

Unser Ziel ist es, die Strukturen unter den Bedingungen zu optimieren, die wir haben.

ich finde es erstmal schön, dass in diesen kliniken im institutionellen regelbetrieb diese strukturen geschaffen werden, die also nicht nur von sehr radikalen einzelpersonen genutzt werden können, sondern auch von einer breiteren bevölkerung.

aber es ist auch noch ein fragezeichen dahinter, so lets go & find out

[chez-mimich]

“… La chiesa di St. Mark in-the-Bowery fu fondata a Lower Manhattan tramite il governatore olandese Peter Stuyvesant. La cappella di famiglia risalente al 1660 fu sostituita nel 1799, quando il complesso fu venduto alla Chiesa Episcopale. Nei decenni successivi, per mettersi al servizio del quartiere - un centro nevralgico per gli immigrati in arrivo dall'Europa e, dagli anni Cinquanta in poi, un'area prediletta dagli artisti che non potevano permettersi un alloggio nel West Village - St. Mark era diventata una parrocchia anticonvenzionale all'insegna di un grande attivismo sociale. Edna St. Vincent Millay e Kahlil Gibran facevano parte del suo comitato artistico, Martha Graham usava i suoi locali per danzare, W.H. Auden preferiva la messa tradizionale in latino, ma lavorò insieme a Michael Allen, il pastore progressista della parrocchia, per scriverne una in inglese che debuttò nel 1959. Archie Shepp organizzava concerti jazz in uno dei suoi cortili. Nell'aprile del 1966, mentre i Velvet facevano furore al Dom, proprio dietro l'angolo, Allen Ginsberg intonò «Wichita Vortex Sutra» nella sala parrocchiale durante un evento di beneficenza contro la guerra, mentre il suo amante Peter Orlovsky lesse un pezzo molto esplicito che parlava di loro due intenti a scopare. Come disse uno dei parrocchiani all'epoca, il Cristo della chiesa di St. Mark non era «il Cristo delle vecchiette che la domenica si mettono il cappello bianco, ma il Cristo vigoroso e ribelle»…”

(Will Hermes, “Lou Reed re di New York - Minimum Fax)