Land Day - March 30th
Every year on the 30th of March, Palestinians all across Palestine, yet especially those living inside the 1948 green line (governed by the Israeli government) revive the memory of ‘The Land Day’ (in Arabic : Yawm Al-Ard), a day that first became of significance in the year 1976 when the Israeli government announced the plan that it had in mind, to take and expropriate thousands of dunams of land from Palestinian citizens for “state purposes”… this led the Palestinian citizens living under Israeli rule to take on a general strike and go out in protests and demonstrations in large number against such a decision that deprives them from the lands that they own privately.
On the protests of March 30th 1976 the IOF killed 6 Palestinians (Khadeejah Qasem Shawahneh, Kheir Ahmed Yassin, Raja Hussein Abu Rayya, Khader Eid Mahmoud Khalailah, Mohsen Hasan Sayyed Taha, Ra’afat Ali Zuheiri) while injuring and arresting hundreds more…
Many literary and artistic pieces have been dedicated to the memory of Palestinian Land Day by various authors and artists, the most famous piece being a poem written by the renowned Palestinian author and poet Mahmoud Darwish named “Al-Ard” (which translates to “The Land” in English).
The BDS movement is encouraging people from all over the world to organize huge protests and demonstrations on Land Day, as it is a day that holds a big part of the Palestinian struggle, which is the struggle to take back the stolen lands that were expropriated by the occupation’s government.
So what will you be doing this Land Day (March 30th 2024) to help raise Palestinian voices ?
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Pearl and Gem glance at each other. Then, as one, they glance back at Tango, who is, evidently, not Tango.
“Do we have an amnesiacold on our hands?” Gem asks.
“Maybe,” says Pearl, glancing back at Tango again. “Tango, buddy, you feeling alright?”
“I—” Tango opens his mouth. Closes it again. “I mean, I’m a little under the weather, to tell you the truth—I ate a South African sausage and it disagreed with me.”
Pearl hums. “And it’s messed with your memory a bit, right?”
“Yes! I mean, no—I mean, how did you—?”
“Would you say that you have a bit of an amnesiacold, Tango?” asks Gem.
“Amnesiacold?”
“You know. Amnesiacold!” Gem says. “When you get sick and forget everything and feel like somebody else?”
“Ah.” Tango pulls himself to shore. Frowns. “It’s more of an amnesia-food-poisoning, if I’m honest.”
Pearl winces. “Your poor digestive system.”
“It’s not very nice Pearl, I’ll tell you that much,” Tango says, voice low, one hand pressed against his stomach as he pulls a face.
“Okay, that’s enough, I don’t need to hear about your gut issues,” Gem interrupts. “But—you have an amnesiacold! You know, I was an amnesiacold last season.”
“You mean, you had an amnesiacold?”
“No, I was one.” Gem winks. “Like—Tango has an amnesiacold. But you? You’re the amnesiacold. You know?”
Tango’s shoulders hike up with discomfort. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m Tango. And I think you guys should—should skadoodle somewhere else. Should bother-someone-else-ificate. Begone.”
“I had an amnesiacold last season, you know,” Pearl says. “Gem was one. You can tell us, buddy, we’re not gonna tell anyone.”
“Promise,” Gem says with a nod. “This is a safe space! You don’t have to pretend to be someone you’re not with us.”
Tango stares at them for a long, long moment, then sags, face falling. He looks exhausted, suddenly, and Pearl feels a rush of sympathy. It can’t be easy, being thrown into the game halfway through, with no context for anything.
“It’s been rough, dudes,” Tango says, voice cracking. “It’s been really really rough. I forgot how hard it was to get anything done on this server! There’s so much chaos, and—”
Wait.
“Ren?”
Not-Tango grins. “In the flesh,” he says with a bow of his head. “Or… not my flesh, exactly.”
“Ren?” Gem asks, tilting her head in confusion.
“Oh, that’s right, you’ve never met…”
Gem and Ren peer at each other for a moment. “You do look familiar,” Ren says eventually.
“Yeah,” Gem agrees. “I mean, obviously you look familiar—you look like Tango!—but… yeah.”
They stare at each other for a moment more.
“Maybe we met in a dream?” Ren says at last.
Gem nods. “Sure. Makes as much sense as anything else.”
Pearl glances between them, rocking awkwardly back on her heels. She clears her throat, drawing their attentions back to her. “Welcome back, buddy,” she says to Ren. “Good to see you again.”
“I wish that I could say the same,” Ren says morosely. “I thought I was—I was done, Pearl.” Now that she knows it's Ren, she can hear his cadence in Tango’s voice, voice dropping rough and low with drama as he bows his head. “I was done. No more games, not for the ol’ diggity dog. And now… Here I am!” He laughs a little, stretching out his arms to indicate the server at large. “In a body that’s not mine, in a world I’ve never seen, in a game I do not understand.”
“Oh, Ren…” Pearl frowns. She doesn’t know what to say.
Gem jumps in. “Hey, it’s okay! It’s just one session, you know? You can do one session!”
“I suppose I must.” Ren looks up at them, jaw tightening. “If I am here—I suppose I must.”
“I’d never been in any of these games before I was Cleo for a bit last season,” Gem says. “So you have an advantage there! And, hey—maybe you can come back next season, and we can meet for real?”
Ren shifts uncomfortably. There’s something heavy hanging about him, something Pearl can’t quite understand. She remembers the last time she’d seen him, skull caved in from the dripstone spike dropped on his head. She remembers her own amnesiacold, the exhaustion that had dragged at her before it had settled in, the memories that had plagued her and just wouldn’t go away. And she wonders—
Just how exhausted would you have to be that your body would have to leave as well as the rest of your self?
Just how sick would you have to be before you didn’t want to come back?
Still, Ren steadies himself. Quirks Tango’s mouth into a smile. “Maybe,” he says, meeting Gem’s gaze. “That would be nice, to meet for real.”
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The international world is watching this bridge collapse, causing the temporary closure of a major American port, and I wonder if they're thinking about how fragile American infrastructure is because of so many decades of relentless, unchecked growth that has come at the cost of the initial safety of and future buttressing of aging infrastructure.
The United States government was created by and for human traffickers and it has operated as one would expect a government created by and for human traffickers to operate. There is little consideration of human cost. There is little consideration of human safety. People who have galvanized the populace of the country to demand things like their own safety and fair treatment are literally murdered by this government.
There was nothing around that very important, very high traffic bridge to protect it from collision. If you look at pictures of the collapsed bridge, you'll see electrical poles and towers around it, all of them are surrounded by barriers so that boats can't just careen into them and take them out. There was nothing like that to protect the bridge designed for human beings.
The fragility of this empire is on display, while this empire is supporting a pariah state that is in direct violation of international law.
Wonder what's gonna happen.
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Qui-Gon's healing room: [muffled shouting]
Obi-Wan, who just got back from the bathroom: Ani, what happened?
Anakin, on the verge of tears: I got Master Qui-Gon in trouble!
Obi-Wan, hearing Mace Strongly Say something about not reporting an exploding slave chip: No, no, it sounds like Master Qui-Gon got himself in trouble.
(Setting: Qui-Gon has survived Maul, and is recuperating in the Temple. Anakin is helping Obi-Wan "report" their adventures on Tatooine and Naboo to Mace in the waiting room of the Halls of Healing, including the bit where he snuck onto the ship heading off Coruscant in the first place... and the bit where Anakin hasn't gotten his chip out yet.)
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