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One by one, we are forced into a truck. Someone who is not moving lands on my lap. I fear that a soldier has thrown a corpse onto me, as a form of torture, but I am scared to speak. I whisper, “Are you alive?” “Yes, man,” the person says, and I sigh with relief. When the truck stops, we hear what sound like gunshots. I no longer feel my body. The soldiers give off a smell that reminds me of coffins. I find myself wishing that a heart attack would kill me. At our next stop, we kneel outside again. I start to wonder whether the Israeli military is showing us off. When a young man next to me cries, “No Hamas, no Hamas!,” I hear kicks until he falls silent. Another man, maybe talking to himself, says quietly, “I need to be with my daughter and pregnant wife. Please.” My eyes fill with tears. I imagine Maram and our kids on the other side of the checkpoint. They don’t have blankets or even enough clothes. I can hear female soldiers, chatting and laughing. Suddenly, someone kicks me in the stomach. I fly back and hit the ground, breathless. I cry out in Arabic for my mother. I am forced back onto my knees. There is no time to feel scared. A boot kicks me in the nose and mouth. I feel that I am almost finished, but the nightmare is not over. Back in the truck, my body hurts so much that I wish I had no hands or shoulders. After what feels like ninety minutes of driving, we are taken off the truck and shoved down some stairs. A soldier cuts my plastic handcuffs. “Both hands on the fence,” he says. This time, the soldier ties my hands in the front. A sigh of relief. I am escorted about fifteen metres. Finally, someone speaks to me in what sounds like native Palestinian Arabic. He seems to be my father’s age. At first, I hate this man. I think he is a collaborator. But later I hear him described as a shawish—a detainee like us, with little choice but to work for his jailers. “Let me help you,” he says. The shawish dresses me in new clothes and walks me inside the fence. When I raise my blindfolded head, I get blurry glimpses of a corrugated metal roof. We are in some kind of detention center; soldiers walk around, watching us. The shawish unrolls what looks like a yoga mat and covers me with a thin blanket. I place my bound hands behind my head, as a pillow. My arms sear with pain, but my body slowly warms. This is the end of day one.

Read the rest of Mosab's harrowing tale in here (if you don't have a New Yorker subscription)

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This is,, one of my favorite moments from the MBMBAM tv show

THIS IS JUST A PHONE NUMBER YOU CAN CALL

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I have made a pay-what-you-want zine about... How To Make Zines!

I go over my entire process, so you too can learn how to supplement your income with zines. Please give it a look, and share if you find it helpful!

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good read for teachers.

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“It is not so much for its beauty that the forest makes a claim upon men’s hearts, as for that subtle something, that quality of air that emanation from old trees, that so wonderfully changes and renews a weary spirit.”

― Robert Louis Stevenson

Source: Grow Your Garden Instagram page

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japanese game dev in the 90s: hey dude can you make some music for our game about anime girls getting fucked sloppy style

guy who's about to push the PC-98 sound card to its absolute limit and create the most heartachingly beautiful music you've ever heard: Yeah okay

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On this Land Day, we sow seeds of resistance ✊🏽

STARVATION IS THEIR WEAPON

CULTIVATION IS OURS

We are launching a campaign to revive Gaza's agricultural sector and restore local food systems.

Support us in the first stage as we plant seasonal vegetables, fruits, and leafy greens.

Donate here

Note: select Revive Gaza Farmland campaign from the list of options and from the dropdown list in the donation confirmation page.

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I was talking to my dad about renewable energy and he was like “the only problem with solar farms is they take up so much space.”

And it made me think about a city and how much sun exposure all the rooftops in a city get and…why not just make the city it’s own solar farm by putting solar panels on every rooftop?

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so like idk if anybody has pointed this out yet but Undyne’s not just a fish girl.

She’s a dunkleosteus girl.

(its the teeth that give it away.)

Anyway so the dunkleosteus was an ancient predatory armored fish from the Silurian to the Devonian period, with thick bony plates all over its head. She really is an “armor fish” monster!

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Saw that post about transmascs and how ppl need to talk more about vaginal atrophy and how it's easily treatable with estrogen cream without affecting your HRT and it got me thinking about how none of us transfems seem to talk about dick atrophy either and how it's also easily treatable with topical testosterone cream provided you're not taking a T blocker (so on a GnRH agonist, estradiol monotherapy, or have had bottom surgery). Without T you don't get that passive tissue maintenance so unless you want to get hard every other day for the rest of your life to keep it healthy you're kinda screwed and erections can become really painful, let alone the change in length/shape. So yeah ask about topical testosterone.

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Hello everybody with summer fast approaching here is your regular reminder that:

Everyone needs to wear sunscreen

SPF 50 is pretty much the best protection you can get, an SPF higher than that will have the same effect

Melanin does not protect you from skin cancer

Tanning is caused by exposure to ultraviolet radiation

Spending the majority of your life receiving regular large doses of UV radiation without any skin protection is a good way to get skin cancer

Don't use tanning beds, and don't go sun tanning

Wear your fucking sunscreen

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my heart absolutely breaks for gaza. imagine screaming for help. for someone to save you and the world ignores you for the most part. shame on anyone and everyone who supports this. where is your empathy.

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UPDATE: Dangers in North Gaza!

Our friend, journalist and photographer Mahmoud Abusalama, gives us an update about the dangers in the north of Gaza in the weeks long attack on Jabaliya refugee camp. There has been constant, brutal bombings and no water has been allowed in the North as part of Israel’s starvation campaign they induced on the people of Gaza. He himself was targeted by Israel for documenting the truth about what happens on the ground.

The situation keeps getting worse and worse for the people of Gaza and there’s no hint of stopping anytime soon. Everyday, we’re worried for our friends in Gaza and pray for this vicious onslaught to stop. Please, if you’re able, take to the streets and protest your governments for aiding and abetting the Gaza genocide, and do everything you can to help them.

Gazans continue to require basic necessities, and prices for things have only gone up. If you donate to HelpGazaChildren, Hussam sends a portion of the funds to the North to Help Mahmoud Abusalama find ways to feed the starved community of Jabaliya.

Please keep donating to HelpGazaChildren! This grassroots effort is helping so many people in Gaza when the world has abandoned them!

Donate to our GoFundMe which goes directly to Hussam, who manages camps in Rafah, with NO middleman in between!

HelpGazaChildren Notion Site || #helpgazachildren tag

GoFundMe Link

[ID: video of mahmoud abusalama speaking towards the camera as he walks through the ruins of Jabaliya refugee camp in north Gaza. There are subtitles to the video.]

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Last night during the Tent Massacre in Rafah, Palestinians couldn't find their injured loved ones and the remains of those who were murdered by the Israeli military. They only had phone flashlights to look for them. Parents were using their bare hands collecting their children's body parts.

Palestinians were trying to put out the fire using sand since the state of Israel cut access to water.

This is genocide.

(Via jewishvoiceforpeace)