A humanitarian crisis is what happens after a natural disaster like a tsunami, or a hurricane, or an earthquake. A humanitarian crisis is when an unexpected accident happens. A humanitarian crisis is what happens to marginalized communities in a pandemic. Indiscriminately bombing a population of noncombatant civilians and then intentionally depriving them of food, water and medical access is a deliberate war crime, NOT some random act of nature. Words matter. Calling the aftermath of bombing civilians “a humanitarian crisis” is no different than using the passive voice to describe Israel’s war crimes without directly attributing them to Israel. Please do not let the well documented displacement, and the meticulously planned out ethnic cleansing and genocide of Palestinians… don’t allow that to be whitewashed and erased away into some kind of unfortunate “accident” of nature.
And don’t even get me started on the tired media trope of labeling non-white starving people, “looters” when they take food to feed their families…
About how Robin's halo isn't a closed circle, but more like a branch forming a circular shape, where the start and stem don't touch. It's also uneven in shape and splits into three flowers, like it's allowed to grow freely, unobstructed. Something about Robin having left Penacony and having escaped the confines of her cage, being able to flourish. About her being able to let people in, and connect to them.
Meanwhile Sunday stayed behind to be the head of the Oak family and conform to the strict role that's expected of him, and his halo is a perfectly symmetrical shape that's practically fully closed off. It's sharp, almost more like a crown of thorns than a halo. And it almost doesn't have any openings to let anything, or anyone, in easily. It actively discourages getting close to it.
And then if you want to get sappy about, which I will - Sunday doesn't let anyone in, with that almost completely sealed, thorny halo of his... But there's an opening in Robin's halo, and so it can fit around Sunday's. Something about him always being able to find solace in her, because there's room for him in her (halo) heart always, by design.
i never really liked the formulation that puppies and young dogs 'push boundaries' because i feel like it suggests a kind of intent i haven't seen in our dogs, and it kinda feeds into that adversarial relationship that some trainers have been shilling for decades where you're always expecting your dog to challenge your authority or whatever.
my nephew has a puppy rn, and they described it as 'throwing out behaviours and seeing what happens' which i liked a lot better?
because at least it doesn't suggest that this semi-sentient bag of bones and slop has a crystal clear picture of the laws of conduct and is hell-bent on testing them, and it doesn't suggest they already know exactly how their behaviour affects the world. they're just behaving. and learning.
So I love Kurt Vonnegut's Timequake. I'd put it in my top 20 books easily (maybe top 10, but that'd require more thought).
The premise is that the universe contracts a bit and time rewinds. Everyone is thrown back in time and they have to live out their days doing the exact same things they did the first time. They cannot change a single word or gesture. They're unable to.
And I love that idea. A thing I see go around every now and then is a post about how you never know when will be the last time you hug someone or speak to them. But in Timequake, you do. You cannot change what you've said or done, but in that moment, you know. This is it.
It reminds me also of the Borges story about Don Quixote. I forget the title. Anyway, in it, a man re-writes Don Quixote. Every single word is the same, but it is his authorship. And because of that, the book is inherently changed.
In that story, in Timequake, the moments don't change. The picture. The story. The words. None of it changes. Everything is exactly the same. But our perspective is different.
We cannot change the angry words we threw at someone not knowing they were the last ones we'd ever exchange. We cannot change the hard look in our eyes or the sneer on our lips. But we can know and still treasure that moment because it is the last.
Something about that is heartbreaking. Something about is beautiful.
"You know, he's the deer, he's the changeling boy who's the centre of all of it… He's the prey that becomes predator." — Emerald Fennell on why Oliver dresses as a stag.
SALTBURN (2023) | dir. Emerald Fennell
The only lives that matter to people like him are Israeli lives. John Kirby and Israel couldn't care less about the more than 32,000 innocent, noncombatant Palestinian civilians that Israel has murdered in Gaza 🇵🇸
I tried but not very hard to see what the anniversary date was, and i decided to just prepare myself for the 16th or the 18th... it was the former. so, as always, but this time truly by accident... happy belated 17th birthday Black Butler!! I truly hope this year is amazing for us.
this year, I decided to use an idea I had wanted to try for a while but I never thought I would be able to pull off. and I still probably couldn't in the best way.... but regardless, here is a made up last chapter scenario.
you can also see this comic on webtoon here. whatever your fancy, if you please :>
The choice to frame even Jackie's last moments as being irrevocably tied with Shauna is just. Mwah. Yes. The fact that, yes, it is probably Jackie's last flutter of consciousness--the last vestiges of her awareness before she slips away--but also: when it's over, it's Shauna jolting awake. Shauna, as if from that very same dream. Was it Jackie's at all? Or was it only ever Shauna, after Jackie was already gone? Doesn't matter. Who can say. They're one and the same where it counts.