#yitzak

[appleblossompossum]

I like to believe that House seeks a conversion to Judaism as a way to antagonize Wilson and Cuddy, who then up the ante by betting that no rabbi would sponsor him for more than a month.

Thus begins an exhaustive process of finding and then disappointing, offending, or dismissing nearly every rabbi in a 100 mile radius. Until there’s one who sees through his bullshit and decides to entertain this bet in hopes of nurturing House’s spirituality.

Towards the end of an intensive month of meetings, House goes on a tirade about how ridiculous the notion of g-d is, how the work he does every day disproves the idea of a compassionate creator, the typical House behavior of being dramatic and off-putting as a way to proactively reject anyone or anything who’s getting too close to him.

Yet towards the end of his speech, House confesses that even though he doesn’t believe any of it is true, he wants it to be. He wants a world where choosing to do the right thing matters, where it makes a difference and doesn’t just get rubbed out by cruelty and monotony. He wants to believe there’s a reason, that in the end it will all be for something. He can’t say that he knows these things to be true, but he still stupidly hopes they are.

The rabbi accepts House as an official conversion candidate right then, saying he’s never seen anyone summarize Torah and Talmud so succinctly and blasphemously.

[marcsalmonds]

I do gotta hand it to life that I got a hedwig and the angry inch tattoo of the origin of love animation during the relationship where ultimately a beautiful trans woman in a punk band broke my heart

[homocausticus]

As memórias de Yitzak Rabin

Em 4 de novembro de 1995, o então primeiro-ministro israelense Yitzak Rabin foi morto por um extremista em um comício onde defendia os acordos de paz com os palestinos. Ele sofria a oposição do então líder do Likud, Binyamin Netanyahu. A reconstituição daqueles dias é feita no mais recente filme do cineasta Amos Gitai que foi lançado em 2015 e só agora chega aos cinemas brasileiros justo no…

[apoemaday]

Untitled

by Wendell Berry

To my granddaughters who visited the Holocaust Museum on the day of the burial of Yitzak Rabin, November 6th 1995.

Now you know the worst we humans have to know about ourselves, and I am sorry,

for I know you will be afraid. To those of our bodies given without pity to be burned, I know

there is no answer but loving one another even our enemies, and this is hard.

But remember: when a man of war becomes a man of peace, he gives a light, divine

though it is also human. When a man of peace is killed by a man of war, he gives a light.

You do not have to walk in darkness. If you have the courage for love, you may walk in light. It will be

the light of those who have suffered for peace. It will be your light.

[boredsoup]

Ik I have reblogged a lot of stuff about this but, I will scream this from the roof tops! LET QUEER CHARACTERS BE COMPLEX! All humans are complex including queer people, woah shocker :0. Demonizing or rejecting complex queer characters who do complex things is absolutely insane to me. Let queer characters be messy and bad people who need to grow, we need a balance. Having all queer characters be perfect just makes them feel like a cardboard cut out. Like for example is Hedwig a bad person? yes! That is what the film is about, perpetuated cycles of power abuse and being taken advantage of. But by the end of the film she grows, and makes a change, even if it’s something is minuscule as giving Yitzak her wig and letting them be themselves. This is after Hedwig previously uses the power they have over Yitzak to stop them from wearing wigs and performing drag, something which Yitzak is passionate about, as an ultimatum for their marriage. She has the ability to after the film, keep growing and stop the cycles. And that’s just one example! Anyway, I know this was long, but in conclusion, let queer characters be complex and messy and make mistakes and be bad people. Not every queer person is perfect. Nobody is so let your characters have room to be messy or a bad person and grow from those experiences and choices.

Some other great examples of complex queer characters of the top of my head:

- really any character from Falsettos

- Frank-n-Furter from Rock Horror

- PJ and Josie from Bottoms

- all of the characters from The Boys in the Band

I could elaborate on each one of them but, then this post would be an essay and ik none of y’all want to read all that.

[thollandsgirl2013]

𝐄𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐞 𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬: 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑

Parings → Danny Sullivan x Reader

Warnings → Personality disorder, 18+, violence, language, blood, angst, fluff

A/N : This fanfic series does not follow the original series.

Summary → Danny Sullivan, your best friend, who has personality disorder. After you find out about his disorder you try to help him as much as you can.

Masterlist / Chapter 4

You never thought you'd see Danny like this. The day had been tense, but it took a darker turn when word spread around school—Danny had gotten into a fight. Not just any fight, but a full-on brawl with Annabelle’s boyfriend and his two friends. Annabelle’s boyfriend had thrown the first punch, but Danny… he finished it. Badly. You couldn’t believe it when you heard the details. Danny wasn’t the type to get into fights, let alone beat up three guys. He wasn’t that strong, and he certainly wasn’t that angry. But something had changed.

By the time you made it to the scene, the fight was over, and Danny was gone. Blood stained the ground, and whispers floated around about how Annabelle’s boyfriend was being taken to the nurse. Two other guys were limping away. It didn’t make sense. How could Danny have done this? It didn’t fit the shy, gentle boy you’d known for so long.

Worried, you asked around until someone mentioned seeing Danny running out of the school grounds, heading toward the old abandoned house everyone called the Ghost House. No one lived there anymore. It was run down, creepy, and avoided by everyone—except, apparently, Danny.

You didn’t waste a second. Grabbing your bag, you left school and followed his trail, your heart pounding with worry. What was going on with him? The way he had been talking to himself, acting differently… and now this?

---

When you reached the Ghost House, you hesitated for a moment. The place was as eerie as everyone said—windows boarded up, paint peeling, and an unsettling silence hanging in the air. You pushed open the creaky door and stepped inside, the dim light casting long shadows on the dusty floor.

“Danny?” You called out softly, your voice barely above a whisper. You didn’t want to scare him, but you needed to know he was okay.

You followed the sound of faint whispers down the hall, leading you to the living room. And there he was, sitting in the corner, his clothes stained with blood, his knuckles raw and bruised. But what chilled you the most was that he was talking to someone.

Except… there was no one there.

“I'm sorry, I didn't know what to do,” Danny muttered, his voice low. “Thanks for saving me, Yitzak.”

Your stomach dropped as you watched him turn to the side as if speaking to an invisible figure. Then, his tone changed completely—softer, more feminine. “You should’ve left before it got that far,” he said, his voice now holding an edge of hesitation, a different personality. “Ariana doesn’t like bloody mess.”

You stepped closer, but Danny didn’t notice you at first. His eyes darted between the empty spaces around him, as if following a conversation between two people you couldn’t see.

“Danny?” You finally said, your voice shaking as you tried to steady yourself. “What are you doing here? How did you… how did you beat those guys?”

He flinched when he saw you, his expression shifting from confusion to fear. “Y/N? What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in school.”

You ignored his question, too caught up in your own. “How did you beat three guys? Danny, you’re not… you’re not like that.”

Danny’s gaze dropped to his hands, still stained with blood. He swallowed hard, and his voice cracked as he said, “Me? I didn’t… Yitzak beat them.”

You froze. “Yitzak? Danny, there’s no one here.”

Danny shook his head, panic flashing across his face. “No, no, you don’t understand. Yitzak is… he’s strong. He’s angry all the time, but he protects me. And Ariana… she’s the calm one. She’s right there, see?” He pointed to an empty corner of the room, where no one stood.

Your heart raced as you tried to process what was happening. This wasn’t Danny talking—it was something else entirely. “Danny, you’re scaring me. There’s no one here but us.”

He looked back at you, fear in his eyes. “You don’t believe me? I swear, Yitzak beat them. He did it for me, so I didn’t get badly hurt. And Ariana… she keeps me safe. I don’t want to go home, Y/N. I can’t go back. I don’t want him to hurt me again.”

You knelt in front of him, your hands trembling as you tried to reach him. “Danny, please. I’m here. I’m your friend. Talk to me. What’s happening to you?”

Danny’s voice wavered as he pleaded, “Please, Y/N… will you stay with me? I don’t want to be alone. I’m scared. I don’t know what’s happening to me either. I don’t want to go home.”

His words shattered something inside you. You could see the fear and confusion on his face, the way he was struggling to make sense of his own thoughts. Whatever was happening, Danny was terrified—and so were you.

Without hesitation, you nodded, pulling him into a tight hug. “Okay,” you whispered. “I’ll stay. I’m not going anywhere. We’ll figure this out together, I promise.”

Danny clung to you, his body shaking as if he was holding on for dear life. “Thank you,” he murmured into your shoulder, his voice small and fragile.

You held him, heart aching as you realized the extent of what he was going through. Something was deeply wrong, and you needed to find out what. But for now, all that mattered was that you were there for him, no matter how confusing or terrifying things became.

─── ༓･*˚⁺‧ ꕥ ༓･*˚⁺‧ ───

[tsyvia48]

Genesis 22, Good Omens style

Avraham was nervous. God had sent angels to speak with him before, but never this many. And the one in the center was frightening. He seemed to be in charge, but from his posture to his eyes—the color of a wine stain—there was nothing kind or welcoming about him.

Avraham’s eyes moved from face to face. None of them were kind and welcoming. They looked…bored? But wait, there near the back was Israfel. They met eyes and smiled at one another. Avraham hadn’t seen him since that hot day in Mamre. He’d been the only one of the three who actually ate of the cakes Sarah had labored over. Israfel had enjoyed the food heartily, and it had brought comfort to Sarah.

Avraham relaxed. If Israfel was here, surely all was well.

“Avraham” boomed the head angel with the wine-stain eyes and the sharp jaw line.

Avraham looked around. They’d been standing there for quite a long moment. Avraham was the only human there, but the angel said it as if he was commanding attention. “Here I am” replied Avraham. It was the correct answer to the divine call of one’s name.

Continues after the break.

“Take your son,” the angel continued.

“My lord, I have two sons.”

The angel looked at him, seemingly for the first time. “Your favorite one”

“Begging your pardon, my lord, I do not have a favorite,”

The angel looked a bit annoyed. Avraham tried to find Israfel’s eyes in the assembled. Israfel was looking down and wringing his hands.

“The one that you love, then,” said the angel, frustrated, looking at his companions with indignation.

Before Avraham could protest, Israfel shuffled meekly to the head angel and whispered in his ear.

“Yitzak!” Said the frightening angel as Israfel returned to his place at the back of the small formation.

Avraham nodded.

“Go to the land of Moriah, and offer him there as a burnt offering on one of the heights that God will point out to you.”

A burnt offering? Yitzak? Surely this was a mistake. God had never requested human sacrifice. Never. Avraham searched their faces. There was nothing there but cold indifference. His eyes found Israfel who averted his gaze. Avraham thought he saw tears in Israfel’s eyes.

“It is a test.” The center Angel declared. The others broke out in polite applause.

Avraham choked back a sob.

x

Aziraphale paces in the Judean night. He mutters softly to himself. “Surely Gabriel misunderstood the Almighty. Human sacrifice?”

“Alright, Aziraphale?” growls a familiar voice.

Aziraphale spins quickly, surprise and relief on his face. “Crawly! Oh, dear. You’re here. Tell me, do you know Avraham?”

“Hmm, I do. I convinced him to tell people his wife was his sister,” the demon grins. “Twice, actually.”

“You what?” The Angel stares in disbelief.

“Well, I -“

Aziraphale cuts him off. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter, look, Gabriel’s delivered a ‘test.’ Avraham is meant to offer his son as a burnt offering.”

“Ngk.” Crawly scoffs. “It wasn’t enough to send my side to kill Job’s kids. Now She’s making them do it themselves?”

“Oh, I don’t think She wants the boy killed. I can’t believe that.”

The demon looks at him, eyebrows raised over wide eyes. “I mean,” Aziraphale stammers, “I’m sure She told the host to test Avraham. Part of the ineffable plan…” he falters… “oh, Crawly, I feel just awful about it. I was the one who blessed Sarah so she could have a baby at all! She was 90 years old!” The angel meets the demon’s eyes, forehead creased in worry, “I’m supposed to accompany Avraham to Moriah. And report back on the results of the test,” the angel wrings his hands.

The demon purses his lips. “I could come along and try to thwart you, I suppose,” he says nonchalantly, looking away from Aziraphale to punctuate his indifference.

“Oh, would you?!” Aziraphale smiles, starts to reach for the other’s hand, thinks better of it, and clasps his own hands together.

“I’m a demon,” Crawly says, shrugging and suppressing a smile, “it’s what I do.”

“Quite right,” Aziraphale beamed. “Avraham will be taking two servants on the journey to Moriah. We leave in the morning.”

“Right,” says Crawly, looking around. “I’ll disguise myself. Not sure old Avi will be glad to see me again. Shall I be Bildad the Shuhite, once more?”

“Oh, yes!” Aziraphale beamed. “I quite liked Bildad.”

“Good. That’s settled, then.” With a wave of his hand, Crawly conjures a small campfire and settles himself on a small boulder, which conveniently scoots itself near the fire. “Might as well get comfortable.” He gestures for the angel to sit on a miraculously placed second rock. “I trust you don’t mind if I have some wine,” the demon is pouring wine from ceramic jug into ceramic cup, neither of which were there moments ago. When the cup is full, he sets the jug down near his feet, between himself and his companion.

“Would you like a taste?” the demon quickly glances at the angel who sits on his rock, straight-backed.

Aziraphale looks at the cup in Crawly’s hands. His own hands are clasped tightly together in his lap. He doesn’t answer.

“In my opinion, it’s better than ox meat” the demon says quietly, not looking at Aziraphale as he takes a small sip. The angel makes a barely audible “oh” and Crawly tries not to smile. He slouches into his rock, robes pooling around him, and sips again, rather more audibly than is strictly necessary. He smacks his lips in satisfaction.

“Surely it wouldn’t hurt to taste it,” the angel says quietly, “to know what the fuss is about.”

“Surely,” Crawly repeats back, seriously. “It is your job to understand humans, isn’t it, Principality?”

“Quite right,” Aziraphale nods. His face quickly clouds. “You aren’t tempting me are you?”

“Aziraphale, we’ve established angels can’t be tempted, haven’t we?” Crawly is already pouring wine into a newly-formed second cup. He holds it out to his companion. “You’re doing your job. You’re understanding humans and their experience, so you can better serve Heaven…as far as you can.”

Crawly doesn’t wink as Aziraphale tentatively reaches for the cup.

“Well, just one cup. To know what it’s about.”

“Of course,” says the demon, “just one.”

Several hours later, the fire is mostly embers. Angel and demon share conversation and silence by turns.

“What’s with the name change?” Crawly asks, apropos of nothing. “I thought Avram was a fine name.”

“Oh that!” The Angel brightens, “that was my idea, actually. I thought a new name would help really convey the new relationship between the human and the almighty.”

“But it’s so close? Why bother with such a small change?”

“My dear Crawly, sometimes the small changes are the most profound, don’t you think? It was the almighty Herself who suggested adding a letter from her NAME for Avram and Sarai’s new names. I thought that was delightfully clever.” Aziraphale wiggles happily and looks into his cup, which should have been empty hours ago, given all that he’d drunk. Finding it still half full he smiles into it and takes another sip.

Crawly brows knit together. “What did you say just then?”

“What, that the almighty is delightfully clever?”

“No, no, before that. Something about small changes.”

“Hmm, yes. Small changes can be the most profound.” Aziraphale takes another sip of his wine. “This is quite pleasant,” he says, pointing to the cup. “I don’t know why I was so averse to it.”

Crawly doesn’t respond. He is now sitting on the ground, using his rock as a backrest, and sprawling in impossible angles. His foot waves absently.

“I say, Crawly. Are you listening?”

“What? Oh.” Crawly refocuses his reptilian eyes on the decidedly tipsy Angel. “Of course I’m listening. This is Pleasant. You are Averse.”

As the sky lightens, Crawly sobers up. Aziraphale watches with bleary eyes and, after one failed attempt (and a rather loud passing of wind), the angel manages to expel the wine from his corporation.

x

With the breaking of dawn, Avraham saddles his ass and takes with him two of his servants and his son Yitzak. He splits the wood for the burnt offering, and he sets out for the place of which God had told him.

They set out in two pairs, Avraham and Yitzak flanking the donkey and Aziraphale and Bildad following behind. Yitzak tires after several hours of walking. He’s only a boy, after all, and not used to this kind of exertion. Bildad offers to carry some of the donkey’s pack so Yitzak can ride. Avraham looks at him with gratitude as the redhead shoulders a heavy pack. When Yitzak falls asleep in the saddle, Bildad helps Avraham tie the boy into his perch so he won’t fall out and get hurt. They walk on either side of the beast keeping an eye on the sleeping figure as it sways above them. Their talk about goats and sheep eventually turns to Avraham’s sons. Bildad smiles as Avraham tells stories about the boys making one another laugh and generally making mischief. Aziraphale walks quietly behind, smiling to himself.

In the evening, after Yitzak and Avraham are asleep, Aziraphale and Bildad sit by the fire and drink wine.

As the night drags on, Bildad sinks lower and lower in his slouch until he’s lying on his back looking up at the sky. Aziraphale glances over at him and then up at the night’s sky.

“They are beautiful from here.”

“Hmm? Wassat?” Crowley rolls his head drunkenly toward the angel.

“The stars,” Aziraphale says, pointing and looking up, “they’re beautiful.

“Are they?” Bildad asks, wistfully.

“Well, look at them!” Aziraphale replies, breathless, “they’re gorgeous.”

“Tell me,” Bildad turns all of his attention on Aziraphale. “Tell me, Angel? Please?” His voice is quiet, wistful.

Aziraphale stares back, incredulous. Bildad looks expectantly over the rims of the dark glasses. Aziraphale meets that golden gaze and his breath catches. “You can’t…you haven’t…all this time” he whispers, trails off, looks up at the sky and back to Bildad.

Bildad waits, watching, inebriated but patient.

“Well, I…” Aziraphale looks away from Bildad’s face again and lies back, fully prone. He discreetly wipes away tears. “There are so many of them.” He starts. Bildad settles back down, face toward the stars he cannot see. “From here they appear as white lights, twinkling and sparkling. They are pin pricks in the darkest black,” Aziraphale points, “right now I can see the Milky Way just there, and the Argo Nevis skimming along it.”

Bildad smiles and sighs. He closes his eyes and listens as the angel describes the constellations.

x

The second day of travel, Aziraphale and Avraham walk together talking quietly as Bildad and Yitzak walk ahead with the donkey, playing games and laughing.

“Surely God doesn’t want me to actually hurt him,” Avraham whispers so only Aziraphale can hear.

“Yes, well. It is not for me to know what God wants,” Aziraphale whispers back. “This is meant to be a test, but be not afraid.”

“Be not afraid? I’m afraid, Israfel. I’m very afraid,” Avraham’s whisper edges toward anger. Bildad looks back at them and quickly looks away.

“Shh,” Aziraphale places one hand on the patriarch’s arm. “It’s a test, and surely there is more than one way to pass a test. We will figure something out.”

Avraham allows himself to be placated. Israfel has that effect. He doesn’t know how this will be alright, but he trusts that the angel doesn’t want to hurt him or his son.

The afternoon is spent in silence, all four travelers tired and lost in thought.

x

On the third day, Aziraphale hears the heavenly trumpet and sees a beam of light streak on to a mountain in the near distance. He points it out to Avraham who looks up and sees the place from afar. Avraham sighs, frowning.

“You stay here with the donkey,” he says to Bildad and Aziraphale. “The boy and I will go up there. We will worship and we will return to you.”

Avraham takes the wood for the burnt offering and gives it to his son Yitzak to carry. He himself takes the firestone and the knife; and the two walk off together.

Before they’ve walked more than five paces, Yitzak says to his father Avraham, “Father!” And he answers, “Yes, my son.” And he says, “Here are the firestone and the wood; but where is the sheep for the burnt offering?”

Avraham looks back toward the two man-shaped beings with the donkey. He finds Aziraphale’s eyes as he replies, “It is God who will see to the sheep for this burnt offering, my son.” And the two of them walk on together.

Aziraphale and Bildad tie the donkey to a tree, and follow father and son. They blink themselves further up the mountain. They watch the two approach, careful to remain unseen.

“So the test is whether or not Avraham is willing to kill his kid, right? It’s about the intention, not the, um, execution?” Bildad cringes at the pun, his attention fixed on the two figures walking up the side of the mountain.

“Well…that is to say…the instructions were less than explicit” Aziraphale replies. “But, yes, one could argue, that it is the intention, the willingness, that is being tested.”

“Hmmngh” Bildad scoffs.

Between the humans and their watchers, a shaft of sunlight illuminates a spot in Avraham’s path. Avraham builds an altar there. He lays out the wood. Crying, he binds his son, Yitzak.

“Father, what are you doing?” Yitzak’s eyes are big with confusion as fear creeps in, but he does not resist his father’s hands.

“May God forgive me,” Avraham whispers as he lifts his son and lays him on the altar, on top of the wood.

With tear stains on his dusty face, Avraham picks up the knife to slay his son.

“Surely he’s passed the test!” Bildad hisses at his companion with urgency bordering on desperation, “Stop him, Angel!”

“He’ll need a substitute offering,” Aziraphale spits it out quickly and strides toward Avraham, hand outstretched “Avraham! Avraham!” He calls out.

“Here I am!” Avraham cries with relief.

With a wave of Bildad’s hand, a ram appears. As it wheels in confusion, its horns catch in a thicket. Its nostrils flare and its eyes widen with fear.

Bildad places a hand on the animal’s head. “You don’t deserve this,” he says, “I can’t save you, but I can make sure you don’t die afraid.” The animal’s breath settles. Bildad slinks away, hiding behind an outcropping of rock.

Below him Aziraphale is radiating a full body halo. He’s turned on all the theatrics.

“Do not raise your hand against the boy, or do anything to him. For now I know that you fear God, since you have not withheld your son, your favored one, from Me.”

Avraham backs away from his son who stares in disbelief at the knife. They make eye contact, and Avraham knows he and Yitzak will never be the same. He looks down, away from his son, and resists the urge to curse God.

When Avraham looks up, his eye fall upon a ram, caught in the thicket by its horns. So Avraham goes and takes the ram and offers it up as a burnt offering in place of his son.

Inspired in part by this post about the significance of Crowley’s name.

[crazykuri]

Just read the review that gave 0/100 and paused on the following:

As the writing flails about, the actors have nothing to work with. Some characters have muddled relationships that go nowhere, while others seem to be compelled to do whatever the writer needs at a particular moment, floating in and out of the story with such impunity that they scarcely seem real.

A good example: An Israeli man named Yitzak (Lior Raz) who moves in across the street from Danny and his family, takes Danny in as he escapes his abusive stepfather (Chase), and seems to only emerge when he's needed to beat the heck out of a bad guy, before disappearing again.

It’s like - that’s the whole damn point??? It shouldn’t make sense because they’re [spoilers]. That review is such a farce, and judging so harshly on only watching the same three episodes we all watched.

like i said before, some of those 🤪critics🤪 sound like ******

[deathnotewiki]

October 19, 2009: Light Yagami shares his plan to capture Mello with the US President David Hoope and Yitzak Ghazanin, leader of the Special Forces unit who will lead the attack.

[therealgchu]

a lesson in media literacy

checking out google news today, and screenshotted this:

so, how does one read this? not by reading the headline, but by looking at who the news agency is, and what sort of language they're using.

the first thing an historian is taught is to look for bias in text. there is no such thing as objective reporting; everyone uses biased language and terms, and has an agenda. it's the historian's job to root out that agenda. that said, let's analyze each:

-NBC is a network in the US (we have 3 major ones: CBS, NBC, and ABC). their news wire service, NBC News, is generally thought of as pretty objective for reporting. they generally just report the news, as it happens. the wire service generally stands apart from the news programming (like NBC nightly news, MSNBC, etc.), so no commentary, just report the news as it happens.

the language the headline uses connotes some special connection between biden and israel (which is true). it also explicitly avoids using netenyahu's name, which is also purposeful, and instead uses israel, thereby making it less personal, but also playing to the sympathies of pro-israeli sentiment. also, they explicitly use the term "war" instead of something like "conflict" or "military incursion". war has a very specific connotation, and is fairly unusually sharp language.

-The New York Times, the once lauded bastion of progressive reporting, has now has become something of a sludgy mess, and beholden to corporate greed. once again, the headline de-personalizes the issue by not using netenyahu's name; nor does it mention anything about war or military action or conflict. this might as well be a shopping cart scuffle in a whole foods parking lot, for all that the NYT seems to care.

-The National Review is a right-wing, conservative, libertarian magazine that was started by william f. buckley jr. you may remember him from such hits as thinking kissinger was amazing, and we should bomb brown people. their headline is purposefully inflammatory, stating that it's biden's proposal (which it's not), to save hamas (which it isn't). their headline is explicitly meant to rile the conservative base in an election year, not to report the news.

-The Times of Israel was founded by david horowitz, a renowed journalist. he was especially well known for his support of yitzak rabin and the peace process during the 90s. notice, he's the only one that names netanyahu explicitly, as he's a known critic of bibi.

so, what does this all mean? that's for the reader to decide. i'm only providing context on how whacky and bizarre journalism is, and always has been, frankly. to quote a much better writer than i, "truth is a three-edge sword: your side, their side, and the truth in between."

so, keep this in mind as we barrel head-long into the summer media blitz of an election year while there's war in the middle east (though, to be fair, when is there not war in the middle east), war in ukraine, houthis rebels are trying to shell NATO ships, and we just had a president convicted of felonies.

[couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name]

oh lena hall as yitzak in hedwig and the angry inch we're really in it now

[reimeichan]

The Crowded Room Episode 8 thoughts:

I'm not gonna do a whole writeup because I'm not doing very well mentally these past few days. But: there are some really good moments in this episode, particularly any scene where Danny/Ariana is interacting with Jerome (though I also liked the scene where Danny and that one random inmate are talking). And I really do not like how much Rya keeps talking about the other alters like they're not as important as Danny, saying things like Danny "created" them or that he need to stay present and prevent the others from coming out, or someshit. Like, she's the therapist and the professional so the viewer is led to trust that she knows what's best for Danny. But she has such a fundamental misunderstanding of how the alters work and that they're all just as real and valid as Danny, who is also just another alter like the rest of them. Treating him like the sole "true" personality or alter is just... damaging. And what's all this about having Danny using his "imagination" to guess how Yitzak or Ariana or Mike felt in certain situations? It's such a weird choice of words.

This isn't me saying I'm anti-integration or anti-fusion, btw. I would like it if the show presents something like functional multiplicity as a potential end goal for the system and not forcing them into final fusion. In fact, I really did enjoy watching Danny integrate those feelings of anger and accepting them as a part of himself. But... the show makes it seem like final fusion is the only option for the Danny system. And that's just... god, I wish they could show it's not the only way.

Again, the show may pleasantly surprise me and show that Rya is mistaken and learns something new about how to help Danny later in the series and how DID/MPD actually functions. But I'm just. I'm losing faith every episode that this show will show what good, healthy DID treatment looks like.

[kat2107]

I've seen some posts recently and I feel it's necessary to say this again, as someone who has been following, protesting and agonizing over this for more than 20 years:

Supporting Israel's right to exist and supporting Israeli's rights to not be raped, murdered, tied to their children and being burned alive is NOT the same as supporting Netanyahu's fascists government.

Yes. These things happened. I have friends who were direct victims and luckily survived along with their 10-month-old.

These things have been happening for a long time.

BUT

Supporting Palestinian rights to not be incarcerated in a ghetto, being carpet bombed, to not be the victims of ethnic cleansing, to not have their children shot for being angry is NOT the same as supporting Hamas either.

And yes, these things happen, and they have been happening for a long time, according to my Palestinian friend, whose family is just trapped in Gaza.

Hamas and Netanyahu are cut from the same cloth. They need each other and there are good indication that they support each other to a certain point.

Read up on how both Hamas and Netanyahu came into power, who their supporters are. Who is against them.

I still remember a time when there was hope. When there seemed to be a realistic chance of peace, stability and freedom.

We do not hear much about the thousand upon thousands who protested Netanyahu in the last years because the western press shies away from anything even remotely criticizing Israel. We don't hear about those who oppose Hamas at all, because they have been killed long ago, or struggle too much to have the energy to protest.

The leader of Hamas lives in a plush apartment in Qatar. He said it was a good thing that Palestinian women and children died (because marketing, ya know).

A state is never just the ones whose faces you know.

It's the children, the people who just want to live.

And the moment, you deny them that right, you are wrong. No matter how just your cause.

Israel and Palestine are its children, too, and they DESERVE that support. Every support they can possibly get.

There is an orchestrated social media campaign going on at the moment, headed by Russia (surprise), to make Hamas look like the fighters for freedom and happiness that they definitely aren't. But the US having to help Israel diverts their attention from Ukraine, so fuck that.

You need to get your own history, you need to look at this with a neutral gaze, beyond the videos you see online, beyond the pictures and the things you get told. Do not believe the things you get told.

Go back 30 years. Read up on PLO, Fatah, Hamas, Yitzak Rabin (who btw. pushed through LGBT equality in the Israeli army, just as an aside) Read up on who murdered whom and how that led us to the situation today. (Look especially at what Netanyahu said about the Jewish religious fanatics that murdered Rabin)

Find out who the bad actors are in this and who really are the victims. You will realize very quickly that support for Israel or Gaza and Palestine is not the clear cut black and white issue it's made out to be.

And then ask yourselves if your really, REALLY want to be someone who is ok with the death and displacement of millions of civilians.

And how you can help the victims better in this.

Because no matter how just your cause, if that's the case, you are on the wrong side.

[boredsoup]

I think the way that Headwig describes love in the song ‘origin of love’ really reflects her relationships and her philosophy towards love which we see modeled throughout the show, in the song she describes love as a pain for two people to experience, “That's the pain, That cuts a straight line down through the heart we call it love”. This reflects her relationships with Luther, Tommy, and Yitzak and how they all end with her being in emotional pain. Luther ended with her being dropped in a new place now with mutilated genitals. Tommy ended with him rejecting Hedwig due to the fact that he’s only an immature boy unable to get over her inch as well as him stealing her songs. Finally her relationship with Yitzak doesn’t really end because she refuses to let him leave, however when he does try to leave her we see this causes a argument (and leads to her ripping his passport and both of them being in pain). So when she describes love as freeing and something that can be for ones self in ‘midnight radio’ it really shows her growth from the beginning of the show “Breathe, feel, love, give, free, you know in your soul”. Anyway in conclusion I love Hedwig and can’t shut up about it.

[thollandsgirl2013]

𝐃𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬

How different personalities of Danny acted around you :

Mike

You were sitting on the couch, mindlessly scrolling through your phone when you felt an arm drape around your shoulders. You looked up and immediately knew it wasn’t Danny. The confidence in his posture, the mischievous glint in his eyes—it was Mike.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he purred, his voice low as his hand casually trailed down your arm, his fingers barely grazing your skin.

You rolled your eyes. “Mike, not now.”

He grinned, leaning in closer until his lips were dangerously close to your ear. “Why not? You like it when I touch you like this, don’t you?” His breath tickled your skin, sending shivers down your spine, even though you tried to ignore it.

“I don’t.”

“Oh, come on, babe. We could be good together, you know?” His voice was smooth, teasing, as his fingers lightly brushed over your thigh. “You, me, maybe a little house, a couple of kids. Think about it.”

You shoved his hand away, trying to keep your composure. “Stop it, Mike. You’re not Danny.”

He pulled back slightly, though the playful smirk never left his face. “I could be better than Danny. You know that, right?”

You didn’t answer, your heart racing in your chest. He always pushed the boundaries, always acted like he was your boyfriend when he wasn’t. It was confusing, and it scared you how easily he slipped into this role.

“Maybe one day you’ll see it,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear before he finally pulled away with a wink.

Ariana

Later that day, you were sitting on the edge of the bed when the door to your room creaked open. You glanced up, expecting Danny, but instead, Ariana strolled in, her black clothes clinging to her frame as she sauntered over to you with a sly smile.

“Hey, gorgeous,” she said, sitting next to you. Without warning, she leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek, making your breath hitch.

“Ariana…” you started, but before you could say anything else, she cupped your face with both hands, her lips hovering over yours again.

“Let me kiss you,” she whispered, her voice soft but insistent.

Your heart pounded as you leaned back slightly, unsure how to respond. “Ariana, you know I—”

“I know,” she interrupted, her thumb gently stroking your cheek. “But you’re so cute, I just can’t help myself.”

Before you could protest, she pressed her lips on yous, her lips lingering longer. You stiffened, unsure whether to pull away or stay still. Ariana had always been affectionate with you, but lately, she’d been crossing a line that made you uncomfortable.

“You don’t have to be scared of me, you know,” she said, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. “I won’t hurt you. I like you, Y/n.”

Her words made your stomach churn, but you forced a smile and nodded, not wanting to upset her.

Yitzak

You had just come back from the store, arms full of groceries, when you heard it—Yitzak’s voice, loud and angry, echoing through the house.

“Why are you always in my business?!” He shouted, storming into the living room where you were unloading the bags.

You flinched, your hands freezing mid-motion. “I wasn’t—”

“Don’t lie to me!” Yitzak’s fists were clenched, his eyes wild with anger as he paced back and forth. “You think I don’t see what you’re doing? You’re always watching me, always trying to control me!”

Your throat tightened, fear settling in your chest. “I’m not trying to control you, Yitzak, I swear. I’m just—”

“Enough!” He roared, slamming his fist against the wall. You jumped, your heart pounding as tears welled up in your eyes. “You need to learn to mind your own fucking business!”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice breaking. You couldn’t take it anymore. Without thinking, you turned and ran to your room, slamming the door behind you as the tears finally spilled over.

You curled up on your bed, sobbing into your pillow. A few moments later, you heard the door creak open, and you braced yourself for Yitzak’s wrath. But it wasn’t Yitzak.

“It’s okay, babe,” Mike’s soothing voice said as he sat next to you, rubbing your back gently. “Yitzak’s a jerk, but he means well.”

You wiped your tears away, looking up at him with puffy eyes. “He scares me.”

“He scares everyone, but I won’t let him hurt you, okay?” Mike said softly, pulling you into a gentle hug.

Mike kissed your forehead. “You’re safe with me.”

Jonny

One evening, you were sitting at the kitchen table when Jonny burst into the room, grinning from ear to ear. His hands were hidden behind his back, and you knew that meant trouble.

“Guess what?” He said, bouncing on the balls of his feet like an excited kid. “I’ve got a new trick to show you!”

You couldn’t help but smile. “What is it this time, Jonny?”

He pulled a deck of cards from behind his back, shuffling them quickly. “Pick a card, any card!” He said, fanning them out in front of you.

You laughed and plucked a card from the deck, showing it to him. “Okay, now what?”

Jonny’s grin widened as he shuffled the deck again, flipping it this way and that, and then—like magic—your card appeared at the top. “Ta-da!”

You clapped, genuinely impressed. “Not bad!”

Jonny beamed, looking proud of himself. “I can teach you if you want! We could be a magic duo!”

“Sure, I’d like that,” you said, smiling at his enthusiasm.

“Okay, but first…” Jonny’s grin turned mischievous, and you knew something was coming. Suddenly, a stream of water sprayed out from his hand, hitting you square in the face.

You gasped, wiping the water off your cheeks as Jonny doubled over in laughter. “Gotcha!” He cackled, clutching his stomach.

“You’re impossible!” You said, but you couldn’t help but laugh along with him.

[drifting-pieces-blog-blog]

Breaking Down the Comics: Disguises

Moon Knight, Issue # 19: Assault on Island Strange

We continue the fight! 

And he looks a little tattered there in the cover. Which... You learn that the more beat up gets the better the fight. He fights the best when he's just obliterated. 

In fact, that's a very familiar pose... Any time they want to tear him up a bit, they always rip up the knee and thigh.

The story opens with an airstrip in Lebanon where terrorist recruits are meeting up. 

Moon Knight crashes the party. 

He glides in, easily mistaken as a ghost (a common theme in early comics). They shoot at him, terrified. 

"This is the closest I've ever come to a kamikaze glide... No doubt about that... But time was running out and I coudn't figure out any other option!" - Moon Knight demonstrating his lack of forethought into his own safety. 

He is trying to figure out how to get on the plane that will take the recruits to Nimrod Strange's island so he can infiltrate it. 

Now.... He could have EASILY snuck his way in as Marc Spector. A well known Merc in the field with brutal and effective tactics.... But Marc is also not careful about his 'secret' identity as Moon Knight and his name IS starting to make its way through the circles. 

But then we wouldn’t have this lovely display of Moon Knight’s sense of humor/wit. 

Moon Knight takes care of the last of the guards then runs to the side where he meets up with Frenchie and Marlene. 

He instructs them to "give me Spector's Clothes." 

Marlene tries to warn him about something but Marc snaps that he has no time and starts to change. He assumes a fake ID (with a Lockle's mustache and some glasses). 

He assumes the I.D. of "Yitzak Topol". That's an interesting choice in name.... 

He, Marlene, and Frenchie are posing as Revolutionaries with "colorful and checkered pasts. 

They gather with the other recruits in the back of a truck before the guards return. 

One of the guards remarks that he didn't see a 'ghost' but a woman! That's what Marlene was trying to warn him about. 

The guards are too concerned about arguing amongst themselves and get in the truck. 

They eventually board a plane after having their credentials checked. They have papers given to them from the government agency that they met up with in Jerusalem in the last issue. 

Meanwhile, a well armed ship stays just outside the island's patrol range. It's the government people that sent Marc and friends in. 

The men wait anxiously and argue. One is upset about sending in civilians, one tries to reassure the others that Marc knows what he's doing. 

The first brings up the fact that Marc Spector has worked both sides of the field, both good and bad depending on who paid the best. 

The second assures them that Marc was friends with their top man, who was killed by Nimrod's men. 

The first is now double worried about Marc going in full of emotions and an eye for revenge. 

Back on the island, Nimrod Strange goes to greet the new recruits. He is, as always, flanked by his three lady bodyguards. 

He comments again that his blond one is getting too slow and needs to be replaced. 

Nimrod looks over the recruits and asks who they are and their past political affiliations. 

Marlene gives her cover story and Nimrod notes that she fits the bill to be his new body guard. 

He decides to test her and sicks his three ladies against her. 

Now this is where respect for Marlene comes from. She's always shown skill in protecting herself. Moon Knight has never had to 'rescue' this damsel. She always ends up saving him. 

She was trained with guns when she helped her father on dangerous digs. She learned self defense and then Steven insisted that she learn how to fight. She's parried with Marc countless times and she's also quite smart. 

Marlene makes quick work of her attacker and passes the test. She's now a personal bodyguard for Nimrod. 

One might imagine that the replaced bodyguard is quite bitter. 

She notes Marc and Frenchie talking together and taking interest in Marlene. She's instantly suspicious. 

Meanwhile, Nimrod reveals to Marlene that he has a new position for himself too. He has a new outfit full of weapons and the likes and calls himself "Arsenal". 

He demonstrates his new killing tools. He has the sniper weapon, the throwing knives, the nunchaks, the firearms, and the garrot that all the former leaders had (see previous issues where Moon Knight kicked ass). 

He is now his own slayer elite. 

He reveals that in two weeks the new recruits will be ready to strike against Tokyo, Lebanon, Poland, Paris, Madrid, Rome, Buenos Aires, South Africa and Manhattan. 

While the recruits are settling in, the angry former bodyguard has gotten her hands on the original recruit list. 

She takes count and notes that there are three more than there should be. Not to mention that there is no woman on the list. 

Frenchie and Moon Knight slip out at night, Frenchie to check out the planes and Moon Knight in search of the weapons. 

Moon Knight sabotages the guns and Frenchie works on all the planes. 

Moon Knight goes to check out how Marlene is doing only to find Nimrod with his tongue down her throat, celebrating her initiation. 

So he kicks their plan into high gear a little early. 

The ex-body guard has her own plan. She raises the alarm about there being two infiltrators and plans to take care of Marlene herself. 

Yeah, she can't even win in a training fight against the other two bodyguards, how's she going to beat Marlene? 

And yeah, she tries to get the drop on Marlene an Marlene kicks her ass before Nimrod notices anything strange. 

Out on the base, Frenchie sets off a detonator and blows up all but one of the airplanes. 

They plan to use the last plane to blow up the armory. 

There's a lot going on here. 

The plane takes off, Moon Knight flying. 

This...this is why Moon Knight should not be allowed near anything that flies. 

He can't get the plane working right so he decides to just.... crash the plane into the armory. 

I'm not going to count this under the tally for 'moon copter/plane crash', but.... Maybe there should be a talley for the number of times Marc/Moon Knight has used a vehicle as a weapon by crashing it into his target. 

The resulting explosion signals the government guys to move in on the island. 

Meanwhile, Nimrod, now calling himself Arsenal, believes correctly that the island is under attack. He grabs his nearest bodyguard (Marlene) and makes a run for it. 

Moon Knight drops in and confronts him. 

"You killed my oldest friend--among other things you've done to me and mine. I'm here to avenge those things." 

Not very specific there, Marc. Just there for general revenge, huh? 

Blinded by revenge, Arsenal uses the opportunity to attack. He lobs a grenade and Moon Knight deflects it but still takes a major hit. He's down for the count. 

Marlene is whisked away, attempting to keep up her secret identity, knowing she's the 'only link to Strange's future movements.' 

In the remaining rubble, they find a map of Manhattan with major bridges and tunnels marked off, implying they plan to cut off Manhattan island from the rest of New York and hold it hostage. 

End of this issue! One more to go in the saga of Nimrod Strange! 

This one was action heavy and kinda bland compared to the major themes and imagery in the previous issues. 

It served to show and highlight Marlene’s abilities to hold her own and her value. It also showed Marc’s temper a bit and how he can get so caught up in revenge that he loses sight of everything else around him. 

It could have touched on that more, but it had a very complicated plot for Marc to carry out. 

I also found it interesting that Marc’s chosen disguise had him looking a lot like a young version of his father. 

He dons the disguise easily and you have to wonder if this was something he had to do a lot back in the day or something new he’s learned to do. I’d wager it’s new. Marc Spector the Mercenary was not a man of disguises and not well known enough to need disguises. 

It wasn’t till Jake put on the mustache that Marc learned the value of changing his face. Now it’s very easy for him. 

In fact, he’s the only one that DOES put on a disguise. Frenchie and Marlene go as they are and only change their names. While Nimrod knows about Marc Spector, he has not seen his face. And even if he had done research into him, you’d think he’d know what Frenchie and Marlene looked like too. 

So the fact that Marc puts on such a disguise could be his own idea. His own way to feel more comfortable. To remind himself that he’s on a mission and can’t be Marc Spector right now. And when Marc can’t be Jake, Steven, or even Moon Knight, he has to put on a different mask. 

Marc once more needed and finding any way to not be himself. To put on a mask and not deal with everything that comes with being Marc Spector. 

And while in this issue, Marlene still insists on calling him Steven when she can, it’s almost half hearted. We haven’t seen Steven or Jake since the start of this particular run. 

At this point, Marc has to be clinging to front. He strikes me as the type that clings onto control with a death grip. There is no identified gate-keeper in the system at this point. The system is still freshly aware in many cases. So Marc holds on. 

And even if he didn’t… Jake is far from his cab and New York comfort. Steven is far too soft for the discomfort of this mission. They have stepped back and Marc is running the show. 

But you have to wonder how this is going to affect them all later. Are they going to resent him for running off and resorting to his old methods? Is he causing them harm? Diving into old trauma, bad habits, self harm… 

When they get the body back, will they be angry at him? Or will he be angry enough at himself? We know Marc does not like being himself. That he doesn’t like to front when at home in New York. Being front stuck for so long, how hard will Marc crash when this is over?