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nicklloydnow · 7 months

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“Who can describe these shameful acts as heroic? And yet the Democratic Socialists of America promoted the Times Square gathering and has lent its support to this rhetoric. Six sitting members of Congress—Rashida Tlaib, Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, Cori Bush, Jamaal Bowman, Shri Thanedar, and Greg Casar—belong to the organization, which sets the tone for many political intellectuals and journalists.

Accordingly, leftists on social media defended the idea that change must happen by any means necessary. Noah Kulwin, a contributing editor of Jewish Currents, compared the attacks to John Brown’s raid at Harper’s Ferry. Lake Micah, an editor at Harper’s and The Drift, hailed the attacks. “A near-century’s pulverized overtures toward ethnic realization, of groping for a medium of existential latitude—these things culminate in drastic actions in need of no apologia,” he wrote on X. It is interesting to find an editor at a prestige magazine celebrating bloodshed as a means of “ethnic realization.” And it is fortunate for him that he seems incapable of writing clearly, or he might simply have written, “Kill the Jews.” Gabriel Winant, an assistant professor at the University of Chicago, said that criticizing Palestinian tactics was “politically meaningless.”

(…)

In a 1975 interview, Harrington described how many on the left had adopted a “third-world romanticism” that spoke of the “US always being bad and the Third World always right.” Harrington lamented the fact that “some young Jewish leftists, feeling a need to prove their commitment to socialism and internationalism, had to be more anti-Israel than anyone else.” Harrington, for his part, identified with the Jewish state’s social-democratic tradition, while supporting Palestinian self-determination on peaceful terms.

Whatever can be said against this view, it is far nobler and more humane than what one currently hears from the DSA and its media and academic allies. Over time, the left’s opposition to Israel has only grown—in part because of changes in Western perceptions of the country. What was once was seen as a secular nation, led by liberals and socialists and embodied in the kibbutzim, has now come to be perceived as religious and right-wing.

People who regard Western civilization as inherently racist, violent, misogynistic, and unjust have come to see Israel as the purest distillation of the essence of that rotten civilization. Polemics against the Jewish state often double as indictments of other Western countries, particularly the United States. “From Palestine to Mexico, all of the walls have got to go,” the rallygoers chanted in Times Square.

(…)

This week, millennial socialism revealed its moral bankruptcy. While videos of atrocities circulated online, its adherents made excuses for kidnapping, rape, and the killing of noncombatants. In recent years, millennial socialists have come closer to the Democratic mainstream, but they continue to distinguish themselves by their eagerness to overlook, excuse, or embrace the crimes of Palestinian extremists. In doing so, they forfeit any right they might have possessed to speak as enemies of injustice and cruelty.”

“In recent years, the concept of “decolonization” has been swallowed up by its metaphorical potentialities. The euphemistic second meaning the term has acquired in the process—a noncommittal verbal gesture toward symbolic restitution of certain historic wrongs—has facilitated its widespread endorsement by universities, NGOs, and media outlets. But as Hamas laid waste to southern Israel, writers, activists, and academics eagerly linked the term back to its original concrete referent: the often horrifically brutal struggles over territorial control that shaped the 20th century and that now risk returning to the fore as the Pax Americana falters.

The result is an uncomfortable predicament for elite institutions that have rhetorically embraced “decolonization”—but would surely prefer to eschew its more literal implications.

(…)

Here we find an indirect clue as to the true nature of the “decolonization” project that has become a prominent part of higher education: Like much of what now takes place in elite institutions, it is ultimately a therapeutic enterprise. Battles over land and sovereignty are displaced onto the psyche; the demand for territorial restoration has become a metaphor for internal struggles over identity and belonging for which universities serve as a staging ground.

But intellectual history suggests this therapeutic function isn’t as easily detached from the concept’s violent implications as university administrators might like. The Afro-Caribbean philosopher Frantz Fanon, who is generally regarded as the originator of much contemporary thinking on decolonization, was also a practicing psychiatrist. In his 1961 manifesto, The Wretched of the Earth, Fanon argued that violence was essential to the defeat of colonialism for psychological as much as for practical reasons: Without a bloody struggle against the colonizer, the colonized can’t heal the psychic wounds imposed on them by colonialism. Out of this crucible, he prophesied in the early phase of decolonization, a “new man” would be born. For Fanon, decolonization was therapeutic only insofar as it was also real, material—and violent.

In recent days, pro-Palestinian protesters have tried to channel the cathartic effects of anti-colonial violence invoked by Fanon. But as Israel’s response unfolds with Western backing, a twin narrative has come to the surface on the other side, with some supporters of the Jewish state also seeking catharsis in the meting out of reciprocal devastation to Gaza. Relatedly, a difficulty with any one-sided application of Fanon’s account of decolonization in this context is that Israel has its own account of psychic regeneration through nation-building. Some early Zionists, too, sought to forge a “new man” through a violent struggle to overcome the psychic effects of millennia of anti-Semitism and stateless subjugation. Both narratives retain powerful appeal far beyond the territories in dispute.

There has been no more fraught subject than Israel in elite universities in recent decades. Most of them have influential constituencies on both sides of the conflict, and they have consequently acted in contradictory ways, often attracting the ire of both Israel’s supporters and its opponents. But their reluctance and awkwardness in responding to the current situation hints at a problem deeper than these divided loyalties. For years, elite colleges—and other influential institutions—have lent their prestige to once-radical concepts like decolonization, seeming to imagine that they could be kept separate from the gruesome histories out of which they emerged. Fanon, the intellectual godfather of “decolonial” thought, wasn’t so naïve. As the world becomes more dangerous again, the luxury of metaphorical radicalism may prove too costly to sustain.”

“A horrified i24NEWS journalist Nicole Zedeck told cameras near the Gaza Strip: 'I'm talking to some of the [Israeli] soldiers and they say what they've witnessed as they've been walking through these different houses... babies — their heads cut off. Families completely gunned down in their beds. This is nothing that anyone could ever have imagined.'

How is it that Hamas has defenders? How does barbarism have any place in our modern age? How could those who think the ‘Palestinian cause’ righteous ever defend this unprovoked carnage?

(…)

A post-Holocaust world that vowed ‘never again’ has, this weekend, witnessed Jews ripped from the safety of their homes and places of business.

Hamas is now threatening to execute one hostage for every strike by Israel that comes without warning — executions they vow to film and release.

Who among us hasn’t heard the pleas of mothers, fathers, siblings, husbands and wives, begging for the safe return of their loved ones and felt their abject fear?

I think especially of the women and girls of Israel, going about their day as we might in the West, and try to conjure the surreality of being snatched by armed militants, beaten and stripped and made to walk through the streets while men spit and jeer, subjected to atrocities too obscene to print.

This is ISIS-level terror, moving from hard targets — planes, buildings, stadiums, subways — to a mass extinction event, innocent civilians picked off one-by-one.

(…)

Make no mistake: This isn’t just about land control. This is about fundamentalism and a deep, centuries-abiding hatred of women. These would-be warriors, targeting society’s most defenseless, are cowards.

(…)

Tlaib actually called it Palestinian ‘resistance’, leading to swift condemnation from New York Democrat Ritchie Torres.

‘Shame on anyone who glorifies as “resistance” the largest single-day mass murder of Jews since the Holocaust,’ he slammed. ‘It is reprehensible and repulsive.’

Yet we see such sentiment thriving on the Left.

(…)

War didn’t ‘erupt.’ Israel was blindsided in an unprovoked terrorist attack on a scale and scope to rival 9/11.

The attack was further characterized in this piece as an ‘eruption of violence’ – as if both sides were to blame.

The American Jewish Committee reported that the Times never once used the word ‘terrorist’ in their Saturday coverage.

As for the supercilious female congresswomen who were so quick to excuse these atrocities — AOC especially, that self-described firebrand feminist — they should be shamed out of office.

Not least because their sophomoric, simple-minded stance is complete repudiation of what happens to women in war, a historical atrocity that dates back at least to the ancient Greeks. Rape has been used to terrorize the enemy, psychologically destabilize or to ethnically cleanse. In Rwanda in the 1990s, Tutsi women were raped by HIV-positive men recruited especially for just that purpose.

So commonplace was rape as a weapon that the United Nations didn’t declare it a war crime until 1995.

As for the shouts this weekend of ‘Allahu Akbar!’ over the naked, brutalized bodies of women, alive or dead, paraded through the streets — let us not shy away from this either, although some media outlets, the aforementioned New York Times and CNN among them, certainly are.

What a betrayal. What a cowardly refusal to report the truth. Ever since Hamas came to power in the Gaza Strip in 2006, the region has been subjected to Taliban-level repressions.

Women and girls have been forced to wear the hijab since 2007. Two years later, females were forbidden to ride behind men on scooters or to dance — ever. An Islamic group called Swords of Truth threatened female TV personalities with beheading if they refused to conform to strict dress codes.

(…)

We are now seeing such horrors writ large on the nation of Israel.

On 9/11, the world — the sane part, those nations that value freedom of thought and movement and equality for all — rallied around America and came to our aid in the face of unspeakable Islamist terror. Israel deserves no less.”

#israel #gaza #hamas #maureen callahan #Damon #franz fanon #decolonisation #theraputic #millenials #socialists #leftists #antisemitism #antisemites

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wicked-elfie · 2 years

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Time Swap (ROTMNT)

Time Swap AU created by @teetlezhere

Chapter 10

TW: minor mentions of death, really mild chapter

Beginning / Previous / Next

( Enjoy my shitty doodle for this :D This chapter was really cathartic for me. I feel like I healed a very big hole in my heart writing it. I listened to Mess by Noah Kahan on repeat the whole time I typed it out. And I know I always say I cried while writing, but that's not true, I’m just being dramatic. It takes too long for me to write to get thoroughly emotional. However, writing the park scene for this chapter actually made me have to take a moment to cry. More at the end of the chapter! Take a deep breath with this one. )

~*~*~*~*~

In the present…

“So I went out with a bang, huh?” Splinter’s belly bounces his resting hand around as he chuckles softly. He and his now equally old son are perched atop the billboard that sits several stories high above their sewer home. Leonardo dangles his legs over the edge as he takes in the view. A half smile crosses his face bitter-sweetly.

“Of course. A total Lou Jitsu move. You were always so theatrical.” His smile fell. The mutant turtle sighed and hung his shoulders. He watched a pigeon flutter below them on the street. He sits in quiet for a minute before feeling small, thin fingers reach out to his knee.

Splinter’s voice came out gently, fatherly, “Leonardo… I’m… sorry I couldn’t prepare you all for this… And I’m sorry I wasn’t there to guide you through… you know…”

Leo gulps and releases a shaky breath, “I know it’s been five years, but I just… I don’t think I’ll ever be able to believe he’s gone, Dad. They could lay his body out right in front of me and I still wouldn’t believe it…”

The rat rubs his thumb in a calming circle motion on Leo’s leg. “You two were always very close… But perhaps it’s time to let him go?”

Leonardo wrings his hands together, “I can't. I still feel him…”

“Hm?”

“Donnie… I still feel his… I’m not sure… his presence?” The tall warrior puffs his cheeks and sets his head in his hands. He covers his tired eyes with the heels of his palms and purses his lips. “When… my husband was killed; I felt it. I wasn’t there, but I could feel his… energy… dissipate? A-and when you-“ He winces, “-died, I could hear your heartbeat fade out. I was too far away to press my ear to your chest, but I knew.” He drags his fingers across his cheeks as he looks forward again. His eyes water as he stares across the city-scape. It was early fall, and the sun was just rising. He could smell the mix of baked goods and breakfast foods wafting up from the street below. He melted into the orange light and the feeling of being here, in his home, in this timeline. He never got to see this day; It was beautiful.

“I still feel Donnie. I still hear his heartbeat and I can sense him. It’s like he’s behind me constantly.” He laughs bitterly, “It’s almost worse! It’s worse than not knowing. Mikey… He called it ambiguous grief; Since I never saw his body, it may just be difficult for me to recover and accept. But I swear, Dad! I swear I hear his stupid voice sometimes! Making jokes, telling me about some smart thing he’s working on, calling me an idiot… It's like I’m stuck in believing he’s watching us from far away or- or planning to come back, but…” He runs his hands across his scalp. “But he’s gone,” his throat scratches as he utters his words, “isn’t he?” Leo’s chin and brow both scrunch as his lips sit somewhere in purgatory between a frown and a smile. “He told me that he loved me. Don told me that before he… “ He shakes his head and looks outward. After a minute he mumbles, “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

Splinter moves his hand to the back of his son’s neck and leans in, “You have been through much grief, my son… You need to heal at your own pace…” He gives his boy and side-hug and smiles up at the sun, tears dotting his vision. “I know what loss is. I understand…”

The two old men stay seated for several silent minutes. They listen to the cars below, honking and humming. The people of New York wake and get to work. Children run through the park, playing with their dogs, with loving parents watching over them. A crazed man stands upon a block and yells about the end of the world, and a couple tourists watch in humor: How ironic.

Leonardo remembers dashing over the roof of the surrounding buildings with his brothers, observing the high schoolers outside the large, brick building, chatting and messing around. Donnie would always wish he could be like them, and Mikey would try to convince them that being a turtle was more fun. They’d talk about everything from movies and memories, to their futures and how they’d eventually have families and lives apart from each other; but of course they’d stay close. Leo always wondered about moving out of the city. Even in his middle age, he never left NYC. He and Raphael always hoped to go see the mountains in the west, maybe even take a trip to Japan. Mikey wanted to go to San Francisco and paint the streets orange. Donnie, on the other hand, had his sights set on Mars; He was definitely capable. They were all so capable.

Leonardo focused on a young girl who’d fallen and scraped her knee. She clutched her leg and sobbed, probably mostly in shock. Her cry was answered by an older girl- he assumed her sister. The taller girl picked up the child and brushed her hair back. He couldn’t hear them, but he knew the words like the back of his hand. “That’s why you should be more careful where you’re running…” and “You’re okay… I’ve got you…” He grins as she even manages to get the younger sister to laugh again. His heart steadies and he thanks god that they’re alive.

His thoughts are interrupted as someone approaches them from behind.

“Hey. Mikey wants to… hang out or something.” Donnie’s arms are crossed defensively over his plastron. His eyes stay focused on a pebble nearby, avoiding Leonardo’s gaze. “Said something about a park in the Hidden City. He’s getting ready so he begged me to get the other Leonardo…”

Well, it’s an upgrade, I guess. The taller of the two turtles smiles sweetly, “Oh- sure! I’d love to hang out with you guys-“

“I’m not going. Just you, Mikey, and Raph. Maybe April if she’s free. I have stuff to do…” The teen turns and disappears as quickly as he showed up.

Leonardo frowns and looks to Splinter, who shrugs. “He’s quiet. He just needs time…”

Leo nods. I know.

—

Michelangelo drags Leonardo over to a stand selling lemonade. “It’s not as good as Todd’s, but I figured since you don’t have lemons where you’re from, you’d appreciate it anyways!” He slaps some money on the counter- definitely his dad’s- and snags a strawberry lemonade for himself, and a watermelon one for his older brother. He watches with wide eyes as Leo takes a hesitant sip.

“Damn! This is good!” The older mutant’s smile takes up his whole face. “Great pick, Michael!”

The compliment gives Mikey a great sense of pride. He decides to continue the good streak and guide his brother over toward a mystic arcade. “Glad you like it! Donnie says it’s too sweet, but I think his taste buds are just wrong. Leo never came with me. He always ran off to go do whatever when we come down here.”

Leo frowns a bit at that. He slows and looks down to the pinkish drink in his hands. “Do… Does he spend enough time with you?”

Mikey stops when he notices the red eared slider’s change of pace. His confusion is replaced with a grin. “Totally! Donnie probably spends the least amount of time with me, but I don’t take it personally. He just likes to be alone. All of my brothers are great!” He lays a hand on Leonardo’s wrist, “Especially Leo! I know I might irritate him- er- you… But he still lets me follow him around. Just last week he took me to get pizza and we pranked Raph by tying a slice to a stick, and we got him to chase it around the hideout!” He pulls his hand back and continues toward the arcade, laughing and bouncing around, “He knocked over So. Many. Shelves! Splinter and Donnie were so mad about all of the stuff we messed up!”

“I remember that.” Leonardo’s smile returns and he chuckles, “Raph and Donnie paid us back by hiding fake tarantulas in our beds.”

Mikey squawks, “So gross!”

The pair approaches the arcade, finally. “Whatcha wanna play?” Mikey lets the taller mutant make a pick as they enter.

Leo smirks, “Bet I can beat you on that one game with flying pigs.”

“Super Hog Race 3?! You can’t even remember the name; I so got this one in the bag!” He playfully shoves Leonardo to the side and races toward the game.

“Hey! That's not fair, you- What?! No! Don’t pick the hardest track!” He stumbles a bit more slowly after the youngest brother, beaming from ear-to-ear.

~*~*~*~*~

( Hey guys. I just wanted to give a little PSA. If any of you are experiencing ambiguous grief, please seek out help. It honestly usually doesn't correlate with death. For me, for example, I had a horrible falling out with a girl I consider my sister. It was that feeling of having something there for so long, and then it’s suddenly gone (sometimes it feels like As If someone died.) In the longterm, if not dealt with, it can cause severe mental distress. Please reach out to someone, write it down, read about it, and remember- I’m going through it too, I’m here if you need someone to just talk to. I know that a lot of time, the characters we latch onto and build around are so important because we relate to them so much. This story is very heavy, and I want you all to know how important it is to understand why these characters mean so much to us. Make like old Leo- give yourself time to grieve, time to recover, and surround yourself with love. Anyways, I love you all, please continue to read and enjoy. <3 )

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