#what a dreadful campaign

[ilynpilled]

love to read political takes from some smug sheltered white bitch who was in middle school in 2016 and gets all her information from tumblr. and y'all wonder why no one listens to you.

lol vote for the genocide lady all u want. just be truthful about where actually she is different

[danwhobrowses]

Well Critters the year is almost up, at least for me here in England. Aside from the general pensiveness and reflection of the past year, it also means I'm about to (technically) complete my first full year of following the CR episodes as they came out; a year full of twists, turns, uprisings, downfalls, and just so much going on - only for the campaign to now be nearing its end.

We knew the end was coming sure, but since December's 4SD announced itself as the last of the campaign the number of episodes remaining has grown more finite, likely to be around 1-4 more episodes, and confronting the end is very different to acknowledging it ending. Admittedly in the confronting part I've become a liiiiittle bit of a mess, loaded with panic and worry beyond my own control; I sometimes tell myself that I'm being silly, they're fictional characters, the story's likely already recorded its end, and I never had any control or influence on the story to begin with, but as expected such attempts are both hollow and in vain. It's been a while since I was this invested in a story, or fandom for that matter, and the fact that most key and decisive moments will be determined by dice rolls continuously does nothing to soothe my nerves, or my uncertainties towards how it'll end - after all, the hardest battle has yet to be fought, the biggest decisions yet to be made, and Ludinus Da'leth is way WAY too calm about being trapped in a Force Cage for my liking.

I wonder if the fear and dread was the same for those watching the end of the previous two campaigns? If it was more or less than it is now by comparison? In hindsight, while the final stage so far feels more grounded compared to the more spectacular, massive miniature, larger-than-life endgame battles against Vecna and Lucien's Neo-Somnovem phases, it feels like the stakes are riskier for Bells Hells, on a low Level 15 with no cleric, dismal openings for additional support, and little wiggle room to get creative, especially since killing Ludinus - who continues to be touted as the 'strongest mage of our time' and could get even stronger depending on which way Matt goes with him - alone potentially won't end the overarching conflict, though he should still die nonetheless. At the very least I want the Hells (as we have for VM and the Nein) to all be free to live happily, be it settling down, embarking on new adventures, or just being the best they can be - and doing so with the people that mean the most to them - and at the very most I want them to make the best and kindest decision for the world as a whole, which I hope they get the chance and take the opportunity to do so.

It's still difficult to ready myself for it ending mind you, since I could have very easily spent another year with these idiots and still not be fully ready to say goodbye to them. On that however, I know not everyone shares my sentiment; some are truly ready for the campaign to be over and for C4 for explode (pun intended) onto the scene with brand new characters that in a few years time we'll also likely be unready to say goodbye to, and that's fine. But for all that can and will be said about Campaign 3 - positively and critically - it has very much delighted, disheveled, and deranged me for most of the year, usually at my desk of work, so trying to brace myself for the climax has, and continues to be, a lot of mental effort. Keeping myself positive and hopeful in these situations is tough especially when on the verge of a big battle; sometimes the negative thoughts creep in, Youtube videos full of pessimists and clickbait titles appearing unwantedly on my recommendations don't help, nor does the memory of what happened the last time the Hells were in a major boss battle at the tail end of their time on Ruidus, but when the campaign does end I want it to be looked upon fondly, and a lot of that does hinge on its conclusion. Obviously, I trust the group and Matt's storytelling, but that is only to an extent; defeating Ludinus is something I know Bells Hells are capable of doing - so long as the dice gods play ball and Matt doesn't inexplicably overbuff Ludinus to the nth degree like he did with Otohan - but the Predathos decision remains the root and focal point of the campaign's criticisms for good reason, often overshadowing and playing obstacle to character growth and direction. There is a satisfying and spectacular conclusion in there, but navigating it - even for a group that embraces 'when given two options, we pick option 3' more times than not - let alone achieving it is a very delicate path of fine margins, one that can indeed make or break the campaign - and a lot of my worries lie there, that and approaching/confronting an entity so voracious and eager to escape that it makes the gods terrified enough to deliberate breaking down the Divine Gate.

Without talking more to death about the god stuff and Predathos thing like we the fandom have already done aplenty, there's not much else I can say except that I'm worried but also trying to be hopeful. The campaign ending in tragedy or a pyrrhic victory is possible but it's not an outcome I personally desire or want to entertain. You could perhaps aptly translate that to my general feelings towards the new year too; having wants and wishes, hopes and hesitancies, fears and fandom, just currently a bit more compressed here than it is for the full year - and given our recent run of the years playing dystopia simulator, I'm more hopeful in one than the other right now - and perhaps it would do good to start the year with something to smile about. Right now, it's just that it's happening; it's happening, it's soon, and it's very apparent how close we are to finishing, which means I'm panicking and rambling, and panicking, and of course, rambling. I don't know what emotions will January send me through, but I do hope with all my being that they'll be positive ones.

So whether or not you reached the end of this, I wish you all a Happy New Year and, much like the end of Campaign 3, I hope it's a good one.

[vicstuf]

I have a very normal relationship with Pathfinder:kingmaker.

Silly art dump about them under the cut

[lutethebodies]

A Hero For Our Times and Perhaps All Time

On this Ides of March I'd like to shout out a reluctant but true revolutionary, someone who:

is willing to work for anyone on any project as long as he and his team are paid fairly

is willing to admit he can't do it all himself and will ask for/accept help from non-ideologues

is willing to cooperate with technocrats instead of judge them, so as to defeat a much greater evil

is willing to abandon his lifelong crush because that person has become too reactionary and reductive

is willing to accept that compromise is not the greatest of all sins and does not always equal collaboration

is willing to step up and fill the leadership void when the previous leader has become emotionally and morally compromised

...even though he'd much rather go home and tinker with his favorite projects. Barcus, my dude, you are the bomb.

[landfilloftrash]

we like our men fruity as a cake and bitchy as a dog; or more specifically hypnos does. come get yo man.

[coldgoldlazarus]

Metroid Prime Commercial: "The cold silence of space only punctuates the feeling of death that emanates from this virtually lifeless planet. Only one thing is alive and well here... evil. And it must be destroyed, decimated, exterminated. But first it must be found."

Metroid Prime Magazine Ad: "Use everything at your disposal. Dispose of everything."

Metroid Fusion Commercial: "Exterminating evil gives you strength. But are you strong enough to face your greatest fear?"

Metroid Fusion Magazine Ad: "Sometimes, the only way to defeat a predator is to become one."

Metroid Prime 2 - Echoes Commercial: "Two separate worlds: One shadow, one light. Where the difference between life and death... is a few inches of metal."

Metroid Prime 2 - Echoes Magazine Ad: "If you're not scared of the dark... you will be."

Metroid Prime - Hunters Commercial: "More bounty hunters, more ways to die."

.

If the other games in the series had been released during this time, I wonder what sort of cheesy edgy taglines they might have gotten.

[bloodwards]

when you have an incredibly stressful d&d session and come away from it frustrated and dreading the next one and two days later your DM has a Talk with you about you playing or not playing your character a certain way ✌

[six-improbable-things]

Man, it fucking sucks that the two pre-written things I'd most want to DM are two that I'm playing in right now, so I can't look at them. And also that then all my friends have already played/DM'd them so I'd have no one to do it for. (And I really don't need another group. I'm in 4-5 already.)

[soraavalon]

DM: Yeah eventually, I will say, you do manage to as you're going through books on folklore, books on fairy tales, books on this or that, you follow a trail of stories of people bargaining at crossroads kind of in margins and things like that. To more of a, okay you got a dirty 20, I'm gonna say you probably find a compendium on a lot of various devils and are able to flip through there until you find the section on the Hexweaver. Where you learn the Hexweaver is a being that is known to meet at crossroads, the very much the classic crossroads devil. Nathaniel: Hmm. DM: You go and you make an offering and make a deal to summon them and once there, the Hexweaver will offer you a favor and instead of trading in souls, the Hexweaver's known to trade in favors because the soul trade in the Hells is tangled and complicated, so a lot of devils do business with mortals will try and avoid making soul deals. Nathaniel: He did it anyway, so he can get fucked. DM: Yes. Hunt (OOC): Yeah. DM: Of course the soul is the highest commodity, so you know, there's usually the stories of the Hexweaver tend to end in tragedy if something goes wrong, there's a loophole and you know, not always it's... The weirdest comparison I almost want to give it is like to the Baba Yaga, the stories where it is very much sometimes this tragedy and this creature does just take your soul and drag you to Hell and other times enough times it's very much just trade a favor for a favor and everything works out in the end. Nathaniel: Huh. DM: Enough that there would be reasonable doubt of that, you know, 'Maybe they could help me if I play my cards right?' but it seems that the Hexweaver does tend to avoid souls so they're considered one of the safer devils if you're gonna make a deal, but you shouldn't 'cause don't deal with devils. Nathaniel: It's like despite souls being the highest commodity, the Hexweaver doesn't want to deal with them, it almost seems like I could ask for Amelia's soul as a favor. I feel like he would want to get rid of that. I also kind of don't want to fuck with that, I kind of want to punch him in the face. DM: *laughs* yeah, I mean with a dirty 20 and with what Nicholas sort of described as well, it's like the reason devils will avoid souls is 'cause it all goes back to the Smiling Prince. There's so much paperwork that ties up every devil to one another in the Hells, into this strict hierarchy basically, but technically it's trickle-up economics and the Smiling prince owns everything in the Hells through barter and deals and loopholes. Nathaniel (OOC): [in chat] the Mental Illness in my brain: I could be the next smiling prince DM: Has some to basically rise above the rat race... *sees message and laughs* Hunt (OOC): *laughs* DM: You know, hey. Marigold (OOC): [in chat] n o DM: Yeah, that's kind of the thing. With a dirty 20 I'll also say you learn too that the Hexweaver, the name comes from that they, their actual role in the Hells, is to keep track of mortal bloodlines that have been hexxed. Hunt (OOC): oh. Nathaniel: Oh fuck. I'm in his book. Okay, cool. Hmm. Shit. Okay. DM: And there you go. Nathaniel: Alright. Thank you. DM: Mm-hmm. Nathaniel: Oh that was terrifying.

[peregrineggsandham]

Just realized why that first meeting with Five Pebbles gave me chills. Not just the sheer, overwhelming, artistic presentation of the General Systems Bus (but holy shit did that make an impression) but... this quote:

"Go to the west past the Farm Arrays, and then down into the earth where the land fissures, as deep as you can reach, where the ancients built their temples and danced their silly rituals. The mark I gave you will let you through."

It has the same vibes as the Last Unicorn quote that haunted me as a child:

"Listen. Don't listen to me, listen. You can find the others if you are brave. They passed down all the roads long ago, and the Red Bull ran close behind them and covered their footprints. Listen! Listen, listen quickly."

...I cannot explain, but it feels the same.

[ruins-of-gods]

Something that I think Warhammer 40,000 storytellers miss sometimes is the sheer scale of their setting. I mean, don't get me wrong - I love the big, dramatic clashes, the characters you can buy in mini form and their convoluted, interwoven lore, the dramatic combats against unstoppable foes across a thousand ruined worlds. But that's the top of the setting, as it were - the most powerful beings in the universe, all fighting for supremacy. And at ground level, the level of the ordinary person, are so many other stories.

Did you know that a Lunar-class void cruiser has a crew of 95,000? Nearly a hundred thousand people, aboard a spaceship five kilometers long. A city, flying through outer space to wage war. Many of those people are proper trained soldiers, fresh from some academy or veterans of long, grueling campaigns, and many more are pressed into service, begrudgingly laying their lives at their Emperor's feet. But, unless the ship is currently actively involved in a really bloody campaign, most of those people were born aboard that ship. Most of their parents were born aboard it. And their grandparents. And their great-grandparents. Lineages stretching back centuries, so far that the original soldier who came aboard has been forgotten. A lot of those people probably know, on some level, that they're aboard a ship flying through space - but a lot of them probably don't, and I guarantee you almost none of them understand what that means. This ship is their world. To look out the window means madness so often that they avoid it - not that windows are readily available anyway. Most of them probably barely even understand that they're fighting. All they know is that when the readouts on their analog instruments display like so, when they hurry to obey the blared orders through the klaxon, the Emperor is pleased with them. They were born into that world. When they were children they did smaller tasks the adults couldn't. Their entire existence was winding metal corridors, laid out according to some archaic design, any logic that might dictate their layout long since degraded after millennia of ignorant maintenance, lit only by emergency lights that have long since become the default. They learned how to read an angle readout or how to relay an order perfectly the way another child might learn history or math. When they grew up, their service was flawless, born of pride and ignorance, and when they grew old and died, their legacy was remembered until it was forgotten. Many were killed in battle, but who cares? They gave their lives to the Emperor - a name whose meaning they don't understand, but whose importance they believe in wholeheartedly, all but synonymous with the commanding officers up above.

Sometimes, the klaxons sound a specific command, and every person on board who understands what it means feels a deep, awful dread as they run to their battle stations. They don't know what a warp jump is. They don't understand they're going from one place to another by the fastest way available. All they know is that, for a time, the ship dips into hell. The corridors go wrong. Things and people might not be where or what they were before. Daemons stalk the halls, and must be killed by any who can hold a lasgun. The overcrowded berths, the little nooks that families find for themselves - they are not private anymore. They are not safe. Things drift through the shift that do not care about the laws of physics, but that delight in killing and torturing human beings. Vast energies shake the ship and tear parts of it away - their home, their world, their existence, the biggest thing they can imagine, assaulted by something bigger. Is it the Emperor's punishment for failure? Is this what battle is? What's going on? They don't know, and no one who does can be bothered to tell them. The dread of those who have seen this before is even worse, because they don't know how long it will be. It might be just a few hours. It might be days, or weeks, or months, or years, or decades. It might be centuries, as the captain of the ship goes hunting daemons deep in the warp - the officers live that long, after all, and have little care for those who don't. There will be people born in hell, who spend their entire lives fighting from the day they can stand, and who die in hell, as old age and need catch up to them and they curl up in a corner to perish. To them, it isn't even hell. It's just the world. The world is death and pain and cruelty, an infinite metal box through which monsters stalk, and sometimes you must run to a battle station and do as you're ordered to do. And sometimes, as they reach forty or fifty or even a ripe old sixty, the ship drops out of the Warp, and, for the final years of their life, they are granted a life of relatively safe service better than anything they ever hoped to dream of.

Those are the kinds of stories I want to see more of. Super-soldiers fighting each other is cool, yes, but I want to see this universe explored. I want stories from the perspective of those that keep the Imperium going, or the aeldar, or the tyranids, or anyone, really. There's just so much potential in this setting. It deserves it.

[steviewashere]

Oh, oh, oh

Eddie thinking Steve is kind of a good dude, but still holding his biases after Vecna. Oh, the way he looks at Steve is with his nostrils flared and his eyes skeptical. He stomps on Steve's interests because it's just "sportsball talk" and it's "not that important"; and he holds his own interests higher on a pedestal because they're all about "giving voices to the unheard" and "making others feel at home". Having this incredible, unmissable, unavoidable hypocrisy when it comes to Steve Harrington.

He greets him with a mocking, "Harrington," but never a "Steve" or a "Stevie." It's strictly last name basis. Eddie refuses to reach out to him, unless it's truly dire. He refuses to meet-up with Steve for hangouts—even if it's a movie night with everybody or it's an arcade trip with the whole party or a late night diner call. He wants nothing to do with Steve. But he can admire the way Steve calibrates himself with others, saves them time and time again, sticks up for them.

And the real kicker?

Steve is trying to be the best for Eddie. Not for himself. Not for the party. But for Eddie. He's not sure why it matters at all that he has Eddie's seal of approval, but if he doesn't...for some reason, it brings a hard-hitting ache to his chest, a stomach dropping sort of nausea, a burn behind his eyes. It shouldn't matter to him that Eddie won't hug him, won't indulge his interests, won't call him by his name. It really shouldn't.

But he keeps pushing, keeps trying. Calls Eddie, well, Eddie. He asks Dustin for advice, how he could approach, how to appease him. Erica puts on campaigns, just so that Steve can learn how to play; maybe Eddie wouldn't mind Steve teaming along for campaigns, as long as he can play. He's offering rides. He's giving Eddie his monthly free pass at Family Video. He's trying to laugh the hardest at Eddie's jokes, keep silent when he doesn't get something. He bites back on his retorts, on his usual catty playfulness, his jokey assholery—all because Eddie got on the defense and practically snarled at him the last time he tried to joke around with Robin about her failing dates. He pulls back and he keeps himself polite and he smiles when appropriate and he tries to expand his style, his music taste, his movie likes, his nerd vernacular. And he thinks he's doing a good job, pleasing Eddie. Because Eddie doesn't roll his eyes, doesn't snap at him, doesn't sigh at him, doesn't flare his nostrils—none of that.

Until...

Steve does something, he's not sure what. Maybe made a joke at the wrong moment? Argued a little too loudly? Didn't give Eddie what he wants? It had to be something he did. Something wrong.

Because Eddie's all mad at him, beyond pissy, beyond offended. Angry in a way that scares Steve, almost. Red-faced and stomping and big. And then, as the walls begin to close in, just as the floor begins to sink at Steve's feet, just as he's ready for Eddie to just slap him or punch him or knock some screws loose—

"I hate you."

And it's not the same as a punch, but it lands like one anyway. Knocking the wind right out of Steve's sails. He's standing straight one moment, off-kilter and ready to collapse the next.

"You hate me?"

He doesn't even hear the next thing Eddie says, blood rushing to his ears, drowning out the sounds. Because with his back against a wall, in the Wheeler's empty basement (as the kids all went up for some lunch, their D&D stuff strewn about), a sick curl of dread in Steve's stomach, he makes a haunting realization:

Nothing he does will ever be enough for Eddie. No matter the battle they fought. No matter the space they shared, chuckling into each other's ears, telling each other they were better than expectations. No matter the stuff Steve learned, or the way he cleaned Eddie's vest, or the media training he's essentially done to himself. None of it will be enough for Eddie.

Because in Eddie's head?

Steve Harrington is kind of a good guy.

But one act of bravery doesn't immediately erase an image. It doesn't get rid of drilled in biases. Or a well-crafted, initially well-meaning rule set in one's head.

At the end of the day, Steve Harrington was still King Steve. He was still this jockish asshole with a bit of boyish charm.

And Eddie's not a fool, no he isn't (except yes he eventually is), flattery won't work on him this time. All it takes is one moment, one vulnerability, and Steve will be showing his true colors. Any moment now, is what Eddie is constantly telling himself, any moment, the other shoe is going to drop.

He doesn't want to admit it. That Steve is good. That he's funny and charming and smart and wonderful. That, even in his attempt to put distance, Eddie is sort of falling for this version of Steve—supposedly this real version of him.

Again, though, he isn't a fool.

Even if he has a chance.

Because Steve didn't know why it mattered, not initially. But up close, Eddie's angry flaming eyes in front of him, his soft freckles dashing across his face, the thick furrow of his eyebrows—even angry, Steve can see that Eddie is handsome. Even angry, Eddie is everything Steve's wanted. Even angry, Eddie is light. And Steve?

God, Steve's in love.

He wanted the validation because he's in love. But Eddie won't ever know that. Because he apparently hates Steve. And Steve also isn't a fool. There's no point in sticking around if he's only going to make things worse, there's no point in befriending Eddie when he's already made up his mind. There's no point trying to earn a love that's worth half a dime to even his own parents. There's no point.

Maybe the distance is good.

Maybe the distance is just what they needed.

Maybe, just maybe, the friendship was dead in the water before it had the chance to swim.

Steve dashes away from it all, from the Wheeler's, from the party, from their game, from Eddie. What's he gonna do now? He's not sure. Maybe a bouquet of flowers and a well meaning apology would mean something. Maybe some dice and an apology?

But what did he even do? What's he apologizing for?

Maybe it wouldn't mean anything, especially since Eddie seems damn set on refusing to listen.

(Do they make up? I don't know...maybe...you decide.)

(Also...parallels? Me writing parallels? More likely than you think.)

[aeclectick]

well. with s2 spoilers (that I spoiled myself on, I’m not gonna watch that stream for a while lol), this is my official love letter and goodbye to these characters/storylines that I’m pretty satisfied with. s1 or whatever they’re deciding to call it is my personal canon 🙏

Leboosh & Kavir hurt/comfort (?) fic double drop below the cut—major episode 10+14 spoilers and pre-canon headcanons abound

teen, no archive warnings, cw in author’s notes (canonical character death for both)

mr. sandman, lend us some time (2289 words)

Character Appearances: Kavir, Leboosh, Dandy, Chuckles, Rai’s, Soraya

Additional Tags: Character Study, Canon Era, Pre-Canon, Extended Scene, Backstory, Angst

Summary: In space, time can feel as endless as a satisfying morning stretch. Trying to corral it with finite timepieces sounds insulting, but Kavir has always been a master of diplomacy. Here are three of his compromises shaped like hourglasses.

it’s easy to miss the stars for the ships for the wink out of the corner of your eye (3530 words)

Character Appearances: Leboosh, Kavir, Hank, Pyke

Additional Tags: Character Study, Relationship Study, Canon Compliant, Grief/Mourning, Pre-Canon, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Non-Linear Narrative, Backstory

Summary:

“I am certain that you have an emergency termination button,” Leboosh says, “Rett would attend to this.” Hank offers him a whuffle that’s more cooling fan than speaker system, and thumps his tail against the navigator’s seat in a rhythm not dissimilar to the heartbeat that does not run through either of their frames.

Space. The end stretches so far away that you might have to find a word stronger than infinite to describe it. Leboosh can find no words or strength to describe himself after the death of his friend, but time will tell their tale as it does to all of our ends.

(bonus insane person Leboosh/The Weaver/Grimwm 2nd person fic: #copinghardorhardlycoping)

[batmanego]

DON’T SKIP! READ THE WHOLE POST!

personally, i’m already looking forward to the new year and the promises there. but i definitely understand the dread people feel, especially in regards to the US presidential election. my friend ibrahim is one of those people — he’s anxious about what effects trump’s presidency might have on the ongoing genocide in gaza. the current administration has made it difficult enough for him to survive, but now he has no idea what to expect or how much worse it could get.

his campaign is currently at €21,750/€30,000 and donations have slowed down significantly. i can’t stress enough how urgent this is and how worried i am for ibrahim every day. he’s lost relatives, seen friends and family wounded, gotten horribly ill, lost sleep, starved himself so his family can eat, and gone through hell just to survive and to give his family the chance to survive — all while he’s only recently turned 16.

please donate and share. help my friend ibrahim.

[landfilloftrash]

pov you are The Red Dragon crew realizing; this is gonna be theme.

[heritageposts]

A week ago, US President Joe Biden claimed that a “ceasefire” deal in Gaza was imminent and could take effect as soon as March 4. “My national security adviser tells me we are close,” he told reporters while eating ice cream in New York City. But ice cream or not, Biden’s actual position was not nearly that sweet. A subsequent statement by a senior Biden administration official claimed Israel had “basically accepted” a proposal for a temporary pause in fighting. But as of March 4, Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and his Mossad director were still refusing to send a delegation to Cairo, where talks with Hamas were under way. The Biden administration’s eagerness to claim victory in its search for some kind of temporary truce indicates how much it is feeling the heat of the rising global and domestic pressure demanding an immediate ceasefire, an end to the Israeli genocide, an end to the threat of a new escalation against refugee-packed Rafah, and an end to the siege of Gaza and immediate unhindered provision of massive levels of humanitarian aid. Despite Washington’s vain hopes for March 4 and the unofficial goal of a ceasefire by the beginning of the Muslim holy month of Ramadan on March 10, the deal remains elusive. Media reports indicate Biden is telling the Qatari and Egyptian leaders that he is putting pressure on Israel to agree to a truce and a captives swap. But his claim of pressuring Israel is undermined by the continuing US vetoes of ceasefire resolutions at the United Nations Security Council, most recently on February 20, as well as the continuing flow of United States weapons and money to Israel to enable its assault.

And, on the alternative resolution the Biden admin has put forth after vetoing Algeria's resolution (which called for an "immediate humanitarian ceasefire," "forced displacement of the Palestinian civilian population," and "unhindered humanitarian access to Gaza."):

[...] Linda Thomas-Greenfield, Biden’s ambassador to the UN, cast the sole veto against the Algerian resolution, and instead put forward an alternative US text, claiming it also supported a ceasefire. But the proposed US language does not call for an immediate or permanent ceasefire or an end to Israeli genocide; it does not prevent an attack on Rafah or end the Israeli siege. The proposed US resolution is not designed to end the murderous Israeli war against Gaza – nor is the deal that is currently being negotiated in Cairo. To the contrary, the provisions of the US draft resolution reflect the true intentions of the Biden administration vis-a-vis its continuing support of Israel, and reveal the limitations of the truce it is trying to orchestrate. While the US draft resolution does use the dreaded word “ceasefire” – which had been prohibited in the White House for months – it does not call for an immediate halt in the bombing, only “as soon as practicable”, with no indication of when that might be. It does not call for a permanent ceasefire either, leaving Israel free to resume its genocidal bombing – presumably with continuing US support. Virtually everything the US draft calls for is undercut by what is left out. The demand for “lifting all barriers to the provision of humanitarian assistance at scale” in Gaza certainly sounds appropriately robust. But that’s only until you realise that the text’s failure to challenge or even name the principal barrier to aid getting in – Israel’s bombardment – means that this is not a serious plan to end Israel’s deadly siege. It should not surprise anyone that “the Biden administration is not planning to punish Israel if it launches a military campaign in Rafah without ensuring civilian safety” – as Politico reported – despite claiming it wants a credible plan to ensure Palestinian safety. No one in the Biden administration has even hinted at imposing consequences for Israel’s constant rejection of the insipid appeals for restraint – such as conditioning aid on human rights standards (as required by US law) or cutting US military aid altogether. That’s what real pressure would look like. A more accurate picture of Washington’s approach to Israel’s war against Gaza is the continuing US pipeline of weapons to make Israel’s murderous assault on Gaza more effective, more efficient, and more deadly. According to the Wall Street Journal, the “Biden administration is preparing to send bombs and other weapons to Israel that would add to its military arsenal even as the US pushes for a ceasefire in Gaza.” The arms the US intends to hand over to the Israeli army include MK-82 bombs, KMU-572 Joint Direct Attack Munitions and FMU-139 bomb fuses, worth tens of millions of dollars. It is more than likely that the administration will do another end run around US Congress to send the weapons without relying on congressional approval, as it did on at least two occasions last December.

. . . full article on Al Jazeera (4 Mar 2024)