People seem to think this is fake because it's written in English. Apart from the racism in believing that Arab doctors and nurses aren't fluent in English (a second or official language for half of Asia), Palestinians have deliberately been addressing their audience in English on every social media, from journalists to children, because they know speaking English to Westerners immediately makes people more human in their eyes. Because language is one of the ways the imperial cultural hegemony conditions us (yes, everyone in the world) to see who qualifies as "people" and who are simply a mass of bodies who were always made to suffer and die. Gazans know this deeply, which is why they have been using English to beg and plead through social media, "We're not numbers! We're not numbers! We're people like you, we speak your language, we deserve to live!" all the while they're systematically slaughtered.
Israeli forces also encircled Al Shifa Hospital yesterday and bombed it for several hours while shooting dead anyone trying to flee including medical staff moving between buildings. Not sure whether it's still continuing because WHO lost all communications with its staff there a few hours after. The last new report said that thirty-nine babies had been removed from the incubators before the power went out. It's extremely unlikely they will survive.
Please understand that these atrocities depend on the war of attrition between governments and public attention. The momentum of public outcry is difficult to sustain through repeated stonewalling and bureaucratic intractability. When we're flooded with these reports and a sense of futility and despair replaces the anger, it allows compassion fatigue to set in and the violence to become normalized. Massacring hospitals, killing sick children and openly targeting humanitarian aid workers (Netanyahu just declared the UNRWA is in league with Hamas) will become simply more news articles that fade into the background, and open genocides will soon become part of the "lesser evil".
Take care of yourselves how you can, take distance where needed, but please never tune out and give up on the two million people for whom we are the only witness and hope. Never stop boosting and sharing the news and posts you find, never stop getting out there and joining every protest you can, however small. Anger burns out, which is why activism must depend on an immovable sense of justice and uncompromising value for human life. It's not just about Gaza, it's about the kind of evil our generation will be coerced into accepting as unchangeable and inevitable hereafter.
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Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt.4
[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3][Pt.5][Pt.6][Pt.7]
Danny was sitting in the back, his backpack obnoxiously taking up the seat next to him, when the door to the lecture hall creaked open near silently.
“What are you in here for?” Danny asked the guy who crept into class. He sympathetically took his backpack off the Seat of Shame and allowed the guy to sit down. Funnily enough, they had the same hair and eye color.
“Gen Ed. Undecided. You?” The guy grunted quietly back.
“Environmental studies. I’m Danny.”
“Tim.”
With the implicit understanding of two people in a required class they could not give less than two fucks about, Tim and Danny tuned back into the lecture. When the class was assigned group work, Danny looked over to see Tim softly snoring, head slammed down on the table.
“Tim. Wake up, dude.” Danny poked his shoulder.
“Huh? Class over?”
“Nah, we got group work. Discussion board.”
“Oh shit, thanks for waking me up. Wanna team up?”
Danny shrugged. “Sure. We should aim to post it in the middle so the professor doesn’t read our answers to the class.”
“Yeah, sounds like a good idea. Any idea what we’re talking about?”
“Kind of?”
“Good enough for me.”
——
Tim Drake kept seeing Danny Fenton around on campus.
“Danny! Dude, what are you doing?”
Danny turned, gloved hands full of crumpled trash. “Picking up after the student population, apparently.”
“Didn’t think environmental studies was that serious.”
“Global warming is very serious, you jerk,” Danny smirked at him, crossing the grass to put the trash into the trash can. “Reduce, reuse, oil shouldn’t be spilled in water and all that.”
“Basic stuff,” Tim grinned. Nice, he basically had a friend past Bernard now!
They were friends, right?
“And yet humanity fails to comprehend it. Incredible. Incredibly stupid that is.”
“They get it. Major corporations just don’t care.”
Danny sighed. “True that. You on your way to your next class?” He took off his biodegradable gloves off (nitrile and nylon, baby!) and chucked them into the trash.
“I’ve got free time, actually. Prof cancelled for his daughter’s surgery.”
“Oh, shit, that’s rough! You wanna go downtown and join the strike?”
“A strike? What for?” Even as he asked, Tim hiked his bag higher onto his shoulder, ready to go. They fell into step as the two left campus.
“Apparently, Quillan Pharma was doing some shady shit at their manufacturing plants. I think it’s like killing kids, and pouring toxins into the ground.”
“Oh, shit.”
“Yeah. Oh! Poison Ivy’s gonna be there!”
Tim blinked. He casted a sideways look at Danny. Sure he’s been here long enough to know… but it couldn’t hurt to check. “You know she’s an eco-terrorist, right?”
“Okay, but like… people suck sometimes. And all she’s asking for is like don’t kill the planet. And she doesn’t do that whole mind control thing too much anymore! The Sirens are so cool. Plus, one of my best friends at home might actually kill me if I don’t try to get her autograph. Poison Ivy is like, Sam’s personal hero.”
Tim snickered. “Yeah, okay. Mind if one of my friends join? His name’s Bernard.”
“The more the merrier,” Danny nodded. “Ooo! Hot chocolate. Want some?”
Danny bought three drinks as Tim trailed behind, texting Bernard.
“He said yes.”
“Cool! We should meet up somewhere before the drinks get cold.”
Well, Danny got the autograph. Tim got a new friend, and Bernard got a drink from his crush.
——
“Oh, you’re the glowing dude that Batman always talks about!”
Danny blinked, eyes scanning the wing-like cape and the yellow emblem on the hero’s suit. Danny was indeed glowing, stars and nebulas freckling across neon green skin, and glowing hair the color of a white dwarf star, tinged with the blue from his ice core.
“I… have absolutely no idea who you are,” Danny lied, like a liar. He’s found a surprising niche of entertainment in messing with the local vigilantes and he’ll be damned if he missed this opportunity.
He heard a snicker from the comm lines as Red Robin visibly brushes it off.
“I’m Red Robin. Why are you picking up trash?”
“Picking up after you humans, apparently.”
The both of them blink, feeling a weird sense of déjà vu. A moment of awkward silence passed before they both shook it off.
“Are you here to help? No offense, but the track record for you people is terrible.” Danny strode over and grabbed a bag. He opened it, and shook it at Red Robin’s face. “See? Batarangs, these odd bird looking ones, the R’s. Seriously, pick up after yourselves!”
“Oh, woah, can we have these back?”
Danny yanked the bag back before Red Robin could get close. “Pay me. These were incredibly tedious to pick up. Especially the batarangs. I mean, I even found a whole bunch of old rusted ones in the middle of the bay. What did you do, dump an entire bag in there from the air?”
Red Robin sighed and took out a wad of cash, with tracking fluid all over it. Danny grimaced, smelling the odd scent on the money. “That’s not real cash. It smells off. Are you trying to give me counterfeits because you’re broke?”
Red Robin gaped, oddly offended. “No! They’re real!”
“Doesn’t smell like it. It’s stinkier than the trash. Go get the one with the money, the litterer. Tell him I’ll be back the next full moon. I don’t want to talk to you anymore.” Danny grumbled, disappearing on the spot to watch Red Robin flounder with the stack of cash and the piles of dead bodies on the shore.
“What the fuck even is my life these days?” Red Robin wondered out loud, stuffing the cash back into his pocket. He looked over the plastic wrapped bodies and slumped, sighing.
Oddly enough, Danny felt a sense of sympathy. Well, he’s not getting paid for sympathy. He’s not getting paid at all tonight, actually. Danny flew off, plunging once more into the depths of the significantly cleaner waters, and used his ice to scoop out oil stains.
Danny glanced around and sighed. He had a lot of work to do.
——
“So you’re saying he’s like a werewolf mermaid fae child immortal god thing, right?”
Bruce grunted.
“B, what the hell are you smoking these days? You know drugs are bad, right? Do we need Superman to give you that PSA?” Jason snickered.
Tim, massaging his arms from having to haul an ungodly amount of dead bodies, grunted. He’s so similar to Bruce that it gave the people currently in the cave hives.
“He said full moon. I don’t think we can track him with regular stuff. The bugs kept shorting out.”
“Oh boy,” Dick sighed. “Don’t fall off the spiral cliff, Tim. You’ve got midterms to think about so no stalking the guy.”
“Yet,” Tim shot back, changing out of his suit.
Bruce grunted, setting aside a huge stack of cash.
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