#Rosh Hashanah 2021

[fdelopera]

Moon Knight on Erev Rosh Hashanah

I took part in the Moon Knight mystery swap, and I'm writing this fic for @enigmatist17 !

Since it is New Year's Eve (or New Year's Day depending on when you're reading this), I wanted to write a fic for the Jewish New Year, Rosh Hashanah.

This fic is based on the MacKay comic book series (Moon Knight 2021), and is set several issues before Issue 30.

I wanted to show MK System as an observant Jewish System, since that isn't often explored in depth in the comics. And you just know, Jake "For the People" Lockley is usually the one who schleps their tuchus to shul!

Happy New Year!

✡︎

“We’re not going,” said Marc, shaking his head, trying to push back the emotions coming from Jake and Steven. “Absolutely not. I haven’t been in years. Not since … well, not since that time with dad. And Jake, I think it was mostly you around that time anyway. You always paid more attention in shul.”

Marc felt a familiar pulling sensation from where Jake usually hung around, when he was close to front. And then Jake’s familiar Brooklyn twang said, “Marc, bubbeleh, I could just knock ya out cold and take us there myself, you know. But I want you to be there. This is for you as much as it is for us.”

Marc felt Steven chime in with his nasally Long Island cadence, “We both want this. Jake and I do. Not for dad. Not for the family. For us. For you. We’re the only mishpocheh that matters here.”

“Well, I guess I’m just the odd man out. As per usual.” Marc shook his head, and absentmindedly ran his hands through his hair. Their hair was greasy and unkept from being shoved under the mask. What else was new. They needed a shower. That was usually Steven’s job, but Marc didn’t want to give Steven any chance to front and collude with Jake to drag them to shul. Not now.

Not with tomorrow being the 1st of Tishrei. The first day of Rosh Hashanah.

“I heard that,” said Steven. “And neither Jake nor I are going to force you to go to High Holiday services. But we bought the ticket, everything’s all set up. Central Synagogue has a beautiful service. It won’t be anything like dad’s shul. The music is more contemporary. The Rabbi and the Cantor are both women. They’ve got beautiful voices. You’ll find a way to pout about it, I’m sure, but I know deep down you’ll enjoy it. Trust us.”

“What about Reese and Soldier? What about Greer? Are we really going to leave them alone for days at a time? Just tell them, ‘See you later!’ What if they need me? What if Hunter’s Moon has to track down another one of Black Spectre’s goons?”

Marc felt Jake’s chuckle erupt from deep within, and he heard Jake’s words wash over him with yellow-colored mirth. “Marc, I think a couple of vampires and a cat woman are more than capable of taking care of themselves without you fucking everything up, don’t you think?”

“Marc…” Steven’s voice echoed softly within, a wash of blue concern pushing against the back of their eyes. “Marc, what is this really about.”

“It just feels like a complete waste of time, with everything we’ve got going on.”

“Hey!” Jake’s annoyance came quickly. “You might not take shul seriously, but I do. This is important for us. We’re Jewish, Marc. Whether you like it or not. And as Jews, Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur are our two most important days. Our holiest days. I know that probably doesn’t mean shit to you anymore…”

“No, no, I’m not saying that…”

“Well, you kinda are. You’re saying that our two holiest days don’t matter for shit. Meanwhile, you’re out on the street, doing the bidding of an Egyptian god.”

“That’s different. I don’t worship Khonshu. I still remember the Aseret Hadibrot, and I know that Number One and Number Two are very important.

“I am the L-rd your G‑d, Who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of bondage.

“You shall have no other gods before Me. You shall not make for yourself a graven image, nor any manner of likeness of anything that is in heaven above, that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth. You shall not bow down to them, nor serve them. For I the L‑rd your G‑d am a jealous G‑d, visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children of the third and fourth generation of them that hate Me; and showing mercy unto the thousandth generation of them that love Me and keep My commandments. (x)

“See? I still remember what dad taught us.”

“Nice, so you can recite the Ten Commandments,” sighed Jake from inside. “But you still don’t seem to understand why it’s important for us to go to Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur.”

“What I do remember is something dad talked about once… This was a while ago. Before he got sick. He was preparing a d’var Torah for Yom Kippur, and there was something he said…” Marc stopped himself before he thought about it more.

“Marc, what is it? What did he tell you?” Steven’s voice was gentle, his blue concern washed over them again.

“You already know, Steven.”

“Well, why don’t you say it, then.”

“It’s silly. Just a stupid thing. Something I heard dad say once. It just, got me thinking. About us. About me.”

“If it’s silly, then why are you trembling now?”

“I dunno. Maybe I still worry that it’s true.”

“Well, why don’t you talk to us about it? We can work through it together.”

Marc sighed and rolled his eyes. “This is fucking ridiculous. It’s not that big a deal.”

“Marc, bubbeleh…” Jake’s thoughts were soft. “C’mon. Try us.”

“Fine. I have to find it.”

Marc grabbed his phone and searched Sefaria for the specific passage. “It was just this one commentary in the Talmud. About Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. Here it is. You’ll see how dumb this is. Really.” He sighed dramatically, but he couldn’t quite keep the tremble from his voice.

“The Gemara goes back to discuss the Day of Judgment. Rabbi Kruspedai said that Rabbi Yoḥanan ben Napacha said: Three books are opened on Rosh Hashanah before the Holy One, Blessed be He: One of wholly wicked people, and one of wholly righteous people, and one of middling people whose good and bad deeds are equally balanced. Wholly righteous people are immediately written and sealed for life; wholly wicked people are immediately written and sealed for death; and middling people are left with their judgment suspended from Rosh Hashanah until Yom Kippur, their fate remaining undecided. If they merit, through the good deeds and mitzvot that they perform during this period, they are written for life; if they do not so merit, they are written for death.” (x)

Marc sighed. “That’s it. You get it? That’s why I’m worried.”

“And what about this worries you, Marc?” Steven’s thoughts were patient, even as Marc’s emotions started to rise.

“I’m scared. I’m terrified that something awful is gonna happen. I’m fucking terrified that I’ll be inscribed as one of these ‘Wholly Wicked’ people. Steven, you’ll be fine. You’re one of the ‘Middling People’ after all.”

“Ha! Very funny Marc. And I guess that makes Jake one of the Righteous few.”

“Damn straight I am!” laughed Jake.

“You are, Jake. Jake ‘For the People’ Lockley, of course you’ll be among the Righteous. But me? I dunno. Somehow I’m convinced that if I go to Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, I’m going to die.”

“Marc…”

“Yeah, Steven?”

“Headmates can’t die, Marc. At least, not without the body dying. And so long as you’re not planning on jumping out of a third story window…”

“No, no. It’s not that. I don’t know what it is. I just feel. Overwhelmed. By something. Something is weighing me down. I know headmates can’t die, or at least, not like that. But I just feel like something is coming for me.”

“Marc, what you’re feeling is grief. And guilt. And shame,” said Jake, his voice softer now. “We need to practice Teshuvah. Repentance. Being wrong. Telling the people we’ve hurt that we know we’re wrong. Explaining why we’re wrong. Asking for their forgiveness. Asking three separate times. Being prepared for them to say no each time. Being prepared to walk away. For that to be the closure we get. But Marc, we gotta start somewhere.” (x)

“I'd rather get punched in the face. Actually, I’d rather take a thousand hits than go through that.”

“Yeah, buddy. I know you would. But we don’t got that choice. Not when it’s the thing that is keeping us from being a Jew. Not when you believe that you are literally going to die because of your feelings of guilt and shame. We need Teshuvah.”

Jake sighed deeply from within. “Marc, Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur are sacred. They have always been our holiest days. Our Ten Days of Repentance. The Days of Awe. But do you know why they are so important?”

“Probably. I’m sure dad told us.”

“Because of Rabban Yochanan ben Zakkai.” (x) (x)

“Wait, which one was he?”

“Ribaz. He’s the rabbi who pretty much saved Judaism.”

“Oh. Right. After the Temple…”

“Yes. The Temple. This is how dad used to tell it...

"After the Romans besieged Jerusalem. After they set fire to the Beit Hamikdash, our holy Temple. When we had no place left to offer up sacrifices to G-d. What would we do? Especially on Yom Kippur. Without the sacrifices at the Temple, how would the Jewish people be able to repent? How would we be forgiven of our sins each year? How would we continue to be Jews?

“Ribaz was a wise old rabbi. He stood and wept as he watched the Temple burn. The flames went higher and higher, late into the night, casting evil shadows upon the land. And he looked to the Tanakh for guidance. He turned to the Nevi’im. To Hoshea. And there he found the wisdom he sought.”

“For I desire lovingkindness, not sacrifice; devotion to God, rather than burnt offerings.” (x)

“I remember,” muttered Marc, his thoughts blending with Jake's, remembering their father’s voice. “Hoshea 6:6. And with that, he knew how we would carry on as Jews. We would offer up lovingkindness, prayer, and Torah study. That is how we show our devotion to G-d.”

“Yes!” thought Jake, nudging Marc from the headspace. “And that’s why we gotta go to shul tomorrow. Ribaz didn’t save Judaism just for us to be a slouch about it! So we gotta go to shul tomorrow to get our name in the Book of Life. So we can be sealed on Yom Kippur. So we can start the process of doing Teshuvah. We gotta reach out to Frenchie, Marc. And I miss Gena and Crawley so damn much. It’s gonna be really hard. But we gotta start somewhere. We gotta start repenting to them. And we gotta mean it this time. Let go of some of that ego you carry around your neck. It’s weighing all of us down.”

“Jake’s right,” thought Steven. “We don’t know what the future will bring, Marc. But we gotta start.”

Steven began humming a tune that pushed out in little breaths through Marc’s voice. It was a tune that Marc knew but couldn’t quite put his finger on.

“What is that?” thought Marc, directing the question at Steven. “That sounds like…”

Steven pushed closer to front, and continued humming, a little louder this time. Some words came through Marc’s lips in Steven’s voice.

“Who by fire? And who by water? … Hmmm hmmm hmmmm… and hmmmm hmmm hmmmmm…”

Marc coughed, cutting off Steven’s song for a minute. “Oh, it’s Leonard Cohen.”

Marc could feel Steven’s smile from inside the headspace. “That’s right, Marc. And you know what it is, right?”

“I do. Yeah. Yeah. Who shall live and who shall die. His version of the Unetaneh Tokef prayer.” Marc began to sing softly. (x) (x)

And who by fire?

Who by water?

Who in the sunshine?

Who in the night time?

Who by high ordeal?

Who by common trial?

Who in your merry merry month of May?

Who by very slow decay?

And who shall I say is calling?

“But teshuvah, tefillah, and tzedakah shall avert the severe decree.” Marc took a deep breath. “I’ll go. I will. For Ribaz. And I’ll do it for you Jake… I’d do anything for you. You know that. And yeah, you too Steven. Even though you’re a pain in my ass. I’ll do it for you. We’re mishpocheh.”

“And for you, Marc?” asked Steven, whispering the words through their lips.

“Huh. Okay. Fine. For me too. I’ll go be a good Jew. Ha! Dad would be so proud.”

“We’re not doing it for him,” thought Jake.

“No. Okay, no. You’re right. We’re not. I’m not. We’re mishpocheh. We’re doing this for us.”

#moon knight #moon knight mystery swap 2023 #marc spector #jake lockley #steven grant #enigmatist17 #moon knight system is jewish #Youtube

[strontiumsun]

Dawn and her Pokemon celebrate Rosh Hashanah with fresh-picked apples and Combee honey! Drawn in 2021 prior to the launch of Brilliant Diamond and Shining Pearl.

#stront art #pokemon #dawn pokemon #piplup #turtwig #chimchar #munchlax #applin #combee #sinnoh #pokemon dppt #pokemon bdsp #happy new year! #gen 4

[mariacallous]

(JTA) — Speaking in front of a view of the Tel Aviv skyline, CNN anchor Jake Tapper issued a plea to Rep. Marjorie Taylor Greene: don’t fake concern about antisemitism to score political points.

Tapper was hosting his Sunday “State of the Nation” program from Tel Aviv, where he is helping to cover Israel’s war on Hamas, launched after the terror group invaded Israel, killing and wounding thousands and taking hundreds captive. He took the last five minutes of the show to talk about a motion of censure Greene, the hardline right-wing Georgia Republican, had initiated against Rep. Rashida Tlaib, the progressive Michigan Democrat who is Palestinian-American.

“Antisemitism is not a cudgel to be used against people for political points, nor is Islamophobia or racism or anti-gay behavior or misogyny or any other kind of bigotry,” Tapper said.

“Just over three weeks ago, 1,400 people, mostly Jews, mostly civilians, were slaughtered here in some of the cruelest and most unimaginable ways, in the deadliest day for Jews since the Holocaust,” he said. “This shit is not a game.”

Last week, Greene introduced the motion of censure against Tlaib for “antisemitic activity, sympathizing with terrorist organizations, and leading an insurrection at the United States Capitol Complex.”

Greene, who has championed those jailed for the deadly Jan. 6, 2021 riot took aim at Tlaib’s address to protesters at a Jewish-led pro-Palestinian rally in which demonstrators filled the U.S. Capitol Rotunda. The motion said those protesters “put Members of Congress, their staffs, and Capitol visitors in danger by shutting down elevators, stairwells, and points of egress, while obstructing official business.”

Tapper said that the day of nonviolent protest, a fairly routine occurrence at the Capitol, was not the same as the Jan. 6 riot, often referred to as an insurrection, which sought to overturn the elections, and which ended with at least five deaths and hundreds of jail sentences.

“Marjorie Taylor Greene describes this act of civil disobedience from a bunch of left-wing Jewish groups that are critical of Israel’s government, this act, as an insurrection,” he said. “This is not an insurrection.”

He said Tlaib may deserve criticism, most recently because she waited days to walk back her statements blaming Israel for a blast at a Gaza hospital after a series of assessments attributed the incident to a failed Palestinian rocket launch. But he said House Republicans including Greene, who is close to former President Donald Trump, are not “really in a position to censure Tlaib.”

Trump and Greene, he said, had both associated with Holocaust denier Nick Fuentes, while Greene had likened President Joe Biden to Hitler.

“Donald Trump posted a screed accusing liberal Jews of quote voting to destroy America and Israel last Rosh Hashanah, to nary a peep from any House Republican leaders,” he said.

Tapper has made his Jewish identity a central part of his news-gathering persona, and took a leading role among anchors in decrying the Jan. 6 attack on the Capitol.

[brightgnosis]

Hagging Out 🌟 Anything But That

Once again I don't do Solstices, or Yule, or any of the other Winter Holidays, or, or, or, or; I have my own calendar that's not like anything else, so I'm always the odd duck out ... The Goose that doesn't fit in; always kinda makes participating in the specific holiday Hagging Out events of @msgraveyarddirt / @graveyarddirt's a little awkward for me (though I always love them regardless).

But the Secular New Year is technically a Winter thing™, right? And it's a very underrated Winter thing that- as my ex Jacklyn (yes, we still talk) said this year- "gets lumped in with Christmas, and everyone generally treats the time between Christmas and New Years as just vibing" ... So fuck it, it counts. Or, at least, I'm making it count for Hagging Out because I have nothing else to write about because I didn't do anything else.

Quack Quack.

I don't know when I started making a big deal out of the Secular New Year, honestly. It just .... Happened; one year I decided to start cleaning the house on New Year's Eve, and it became a thing™ for me- something I did every year before Midnight.

Eventually I added spiritual cleansing to the mix; sometimes it was the house. Sometimes it was myself. Sometimes it was both. There's no rhyme or reason to it, really. It's intuition, I think. Or laziness- being whatever I have the most desire and energy for after all of the physical cleaning was said and done.

I sat down and thought about it one day and decided it was "dumb", and that New Years' resolutions were "dumb", and that I wasn't going to do it anymore. But then in 2020 or 2021 (I can't remember at this point), I listened to The Happiness Lab's bonus episode titled "A New Hope"- which talked about how we're inclined to find impactful moments in our lives that can serve as significant psychological triggers to allow us to make "fresh starts" ... Like Birthdays. The first day of new Months ... And New Years.

This isn't a bad thing. When harnessed right, it can lead to solid, significant life changes that can propel us forward into healthy life growth. And I decided then that maybe it wasn't actually so "dumb" after all. Maybe I just needed to rethink it- and turn it into a real ritual.

I don't want to carry old energy into a new year with me ... Not on my Birthday (the Self New Year)- nor on my Ancestral New Year (Rosh Hashanah / Yom Kippur). Not even on the Spiritual New Year (my Liturgical New Year) ... And now, maybe not even on the Secular New Year, either- which is arguably the largest of them all.

And yeah, technically we can pick any day, any time, to change the course of our lives or decide the energy around us isn't great; to take the leap ... But time isn't linear, it's a cycle; the entire Universe is made up of repeating cycles, and patterns that are neverending. And The Happiness Lab was right: Psychologically, and even traditionally, certain points in that cycle just feel primed for change naturally. So why not New Years?

But at some point the after-effects of Covid finally caught up to me and kicked my Fibro into high gear. I wound up bedbound for months- then in Therapy for extreme suicidal ideation. Tack in a permanently revolving door of Doctor's appointments, and all that nonsense; nevermind I had to spend over a year re-learning how to be a semi-functional Human Being again (and I'm still not sure if I'm there). I never got the chance.

This year was the first year I was really able to put it into practice- and it's also the first year that my Husband has ever had New Years' Eve off with me while I did it. Which wound up being sorely needed, actually.

With three cold fronts prior, my body had finally hit its limit and I'd been neglecting the housework for a month- especially the vacuuming, since the vacuum had broke around Thanksgiving. Between the two of us, we had to spend the entire day cleaning in order to catch up. But we managed to finish it, still- with a break in between to jet to Walmart and pick up the ingredients for a traditional Alsatian New Years' meal; he even got my vacuum working again somehow, so I wouldn't have to sweep the floor.

After all of the physical cleaning was done between the two of us, I smoke cleansed the basement apartment with a stick of my "Garden of Eden" incense that I bought from Black.Moth when my old Covenmate and I went to the Curiosities & Oddities expo in November; usually I'd do a much deeper cleansing, but I'd just done one after December's Full Moon Message and I also didn't want to have the windows open for 5 hours in the freezing night air.

I put up the Ancestor Altar in the laundry on top of the Washer after that- putting my Gargoyle Candle on top of a yellow towel; my Husband offered Tobacco and Black Coffee to his Grandfather for the first time- and I gave a cup of Ivan-Chai sweetened with Linden Honey, and a Lemon Muffin, to my Maternal Ancestors. And that was it for the night.

Well, for him, anyways. I still had one more tradition that I've been doing since I was a child: My Year Ahead Reading; the results this year weren't great 😩 But with the news we got about my Husband's company just before the end of last year ... Well, we kind of expected that, I guess.

Finally with that done we counted down to midnight and drank a bottle of Alcohol Free Peach Cider together before crawling exhausted into bed.

In years past I used to do huge, multi-tiered lists of Goals across multiple areas of my life. And I genuinely loved that system. It was fun. It challenged me. But I know I can't carry that out here- and it's probably too much for me while I'm still trying to re-learn how to be human anyways.

So this year my only goal is to try and get myself back on a routine in general, because I know I function much better when I'm on one ... But I'm also more than aware of the fact that this environment- living with my In Laws- is both hostile and counterproductive to a solid routine. So I also want to try and be more gentle with myself whenever I fall off of it.

Maybe I just want to try and be more gentle with myself in general.

#Hagging Out #Original Content #Original Community Content #Personal #2023 #Religion and Magic #Ancestral Connections #Calendar Nonsense #2023 Resolutions #A Direct Look At My Practice #Life Resolutions

[anniekoh]

speculative fiction (fantasy mostly) books on my radar

T. Kingfisher’s What Moves the Dead  a gripping and atmospheric retelling of Edgar Allan Poe’s classic “The Fall of the House of Usher.” Excerpt: www.tor.com/2022/06/01/excerpts-what-moves-the-dead-by-t-kingfisher/

Nick McDonell’s The Council of Animals, featuring illustrations by Steven Tabbutt. Excerpt: www.tor.com/2021/07/19/excerpts-nick-mcdonell-the-council-of-animals/

“‘Now,’ continued the cat, ‘there is nothing more difficult than changing an animal’s mind. But I will say, in case I can change yours: humans are more useful to us outside our bellies than in.’”

...

After The Calamity, the animals thought the humans had managed to do themselves in. But, it turns out, a few are cowering in makeshift villages. So the animals—among them a cat, a dog, a crow, a baboon, a horse, and a bear—have convened to debate whether to help the last human stragglers… or to eat them.

Sofiya Pasternack’s Black Bird, Blue Road : Pesah has lived with leprosy for years, and the twins have spent most of that time working on a cure. Then Pesah has a vision: The Angel of Death will come for him on Rosh Hashanah, just one month away.So Ziva takes her brother and runs away to find doctors who can cure him. But when they meet and accidentally free a half-demon boy, he suggests paying his debt by leading them to the fabled city of Luz, where no one ever dies—the one place Pesah will be safe.         

Simon Jimenez’s The Spear Cuts Through Water

Writing in first, second, and third person, Jimenez makes sure “you” are part of this story, too, casting you as Araya’s descendent and current keeper of the spear. You’ve been called to the Inverted Theater—built by the Moon and Water for liaisons long before the Terrors were born. Now the theater calls dreamers together to experience their shared history. You’re both Jimenez’s reader and “you,” who’s listening to and remembering your lola (grandmother in Tagalog) tell tales of the Old Country when you are/were a child. In your lonely, adult present, your dreaming spirit watches those tales reenacted by dancers in the Inverted Theater. Yet you’re also living the stories as each character—from bit-player peasant to powerful goddess. You experience Jun’s PTSD, Keema’s disability—never explained, simply a part of him—and all the guilt, anger, pain, fear, joy, desire, and love that make Jimenez’s tapestry so beautiful. 

#speculative fiction #fantasy

[stillflight]

100 Questions for Tetri 1-100

1. What is your name? What is your human’s name?

Tetri, [redacted].

2. How did you get your name?

We’ve told this story a hundred times by now 😆

3. Do you have any nicknames? What do you like to call your human?

I don’t, and I usually call Swift his real name, not Swift.

4. What is your gender, if any?

Just male.

5. How old are you? Do you know your CIE date?

November 11, 2020. That makes me 2 years old.

6. How are you feeling right now?

Quite fine.

7. What is your favorite time of day?

Evening! Specifically the golden hour. When everything is settling in.

8. What is your favorite time of year?

Early to mid October.

9. What is your favorite activity?

Relaxing. Curling up by a fire with a book and a cup of tea.

10. What is your favorite food? Does it differ from your human’s?

Any kind of pastry, especially from a coffee shop. Yeah, Swift doesn’t like sweet stuff as much and I hate the fish he eats.

11. List five of your favorite songs, and five of your human’s favorite songs.

I Will Follow You Into the Dark, Must Be a Dream, Recycled Air, When We Drive, Atlanta; See the Day, Disappear, Dead Weight, Carnivore, CASTLE OF GLASS

12. Who was the last person you talked to, other than your human?

Lumi (one of our headmates).

13. If you could change one thing about your human, what would it be?

I'd make him go to bed earlier.

14. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

I don't like disagreeing with Swift on things. I wouldn't want to change my opinions but I'd like to be better at explaining my perspective.

15. Are you affectionate?

Incredibly.

16. Are you introverted, extroverted, or in-between?

I'm kind of an introvert.

17. Do you like to meet other daemons?

Yeah! It's fun.

18. Do you have any friends, excluding your human?

I don't have external friends, but I'm close with all the headmates.

19. What do you do during a conflict?

Mediate and pacify.

20. Are you happy with the amount of time you are projected currently?

If I wasn't, I'd do it more. I'm "visible" when I want to be.

21. Do you have a favorite quote? If so, what is it?

"Sometimes being offered tenderness feels like the very proof that you've been ruined." Ocean Vuong.

22. What is your favorite word?

I don't think I have one. Maybe "amber."

23. What is your favorite memory?

Since we share memories, I get to pick from our past before my CIE -- so my favorite memory is from the last day of junior year of high school, the evening after we had just come out to our friends, and we were listening to Lose It by Oh Wonder in the car and just kind of... transcending relief. Tied with the tashlich on our first Rosh Hashanah (and the honey and apples of course).

24. What is your favorite thing about your human?

I like that he's kind. He doesn't believe me when I say it because he only sees interpersonally. But he's got such a strong sense of justice in him. Things make him angry so much because he thinks big picture and wants the best for the world. He just thinks he's irritable.

25. What is your favorite thing about yourself?

My empathy and ability to comfort people. (Swift wants me to expand on this because he thinks I have low self-esteem.) I think I have a natural calmness and I liken myself to a cat in my ability to sense when someone is upset and offer a comforting presence. That's why I first appeared as a cat.

26. Have you learned anything new about yourself?

I'm constantly learning new things about myself. We all are.

27. Where would you like to travel to?

I'd like to go to Santa Fe.

28. Is there anyone that you would like to meet or get to know better?

No. Those things will happen naturally.

29. How often do you change forms?

Never. I'm always a civet.

30. What are your favorite forms to take?

Have been a civet since 2021, but I used to take a ratsnake form that I liked.

31. Are there any forms that you dislike or refuse to take?

Before I settled, I refused to take any kind of bird form. Flying, heights and being off the ground unsettles me.

32. If you took a fictional form, what would it be?

Turtleduck from Avatar.

33. Have you ever fronted or attempted to front?

No, and I wouldn't want to.

34. Do you have any regrets?

Oh, plenty. But why get into them here?

35. Do you love your human?

Of course! What kind of question--

36. Have you ever felt a close bond to another human/daemon/headmate?

I have a close bond with all the headmates. We're like a little family.

37. What are you afraid of?

Flight. Especially on airplanes. Cursed death traps.

38. Does your human have a headspace? What does it look like?

No.

39. Which form best describes YOUR personality?

Ragdoll cat. Or a quieter kind of dog.

40. Where do you see yourself in 5 years? 10 years?

Somewhere peaceful. Settled down and in a comfortable rhythm in life.

41. What is the earliest conversation you can remember having with your human?

We talked about Swift's special interest in video game history. That's how we bonded for the first time. Easier for him to get to know someone if they're talking about his favorite thing in the world, the cathode-ray tube amusement device (nerd).

42. Do you have a favorite number? What it is?

I can't think of one!

43. What is your favorite color? Does it differ from your human’s?

Brown :)

44. How would you describe your sense of humor?

Dadlike.

45. What annoys you?

Getting wet or cold.

46. What makes you happy?

Lots of things! People, cats, poetry, sailboats, tea, greenhouses and bakeries. To name a few.

47. What makes you sad?

I don't like to think about sad stuff, so pass.

48. Where are you at this moment, and in what form (if any)?

On the armrest of the couch.

49. Do you use any form of social media (besides [TUMBLR])?

I have been known to send the occasional PluralKit message.

50. What does your voice sound like?

I think it's kind of Jacob Geller-esque, but a little deeper.

51. What are your favorite smells?

Cookies baking, new book smell, old book smell, coffee, fresh-cut grass, autumn rain, and unscented candles.

52. What images, scents, and sounds do you associate with your human?

Uncanny stuff. Like liminal spaces and weird CGI. He loves it.

53.Do you care about politics?

No.

54. Are you religious?

Not particularly.

55. Are you satisfied with your life right now?

No sense in being satisfied or unsatisfied. Just live with the goal of being happy, without caring whether you already are or what you could be doing better. So, satisfied I guess.

56. Is there something that you are looking forward to?

Getting a cat.

57. What are some of your life goals?

My goals align with the system*'s. We don't have concrete plans at the moment.

58. Do you care about clothing? What is your favorite outfit that your human wears?

Nah, I've never cared. It's not my body, so.

59. Do you wear any accessories?

No.

60. What is your current eye color? Does it change depending on your form?

Always brown.

61. What type of pet would you want? Why?

Cat! Rat would also be fun.

62. Do you have any favorite TV shows?

His Dark Materials.

63. Are you a worry wart?

Oh yeah.

64. What is something that you hate?

I don't think I hate anything. That's a strong word.

65. What is your favorite type of weather?

Clear skies and warm temperatures but not humid.

66. Do you enjoy getting caught in the rain?

No! I hate it. I hate getting rained on-- oh I guess I do hate something.

67. Do you care much about your appearance?

Nah.

68. Are you talkative, or quiet?

I would say I'm pretty quiet, but Swift says I'm the most frequent converser in the brain.

69. Have you ever made a mistake?

You think I could live 2 years without making a single mistake?

70. What is your greatest personal achievement?

You know what? I'm proud of settling. It shows stability.

71. Do you have any guilty pleasures?

I don't feel guilt for pleasure, we're not Catholic.

72. What do you do when your human is unhappy?

I usually try to offer advice but all he usually needs is just someone to talk to and be around.

73. Do you like to cuddle?

Yes.

74. What’s your plan for the rest of the day?

It's 11:30 pm.

75. What is your favorite day of the week?

Saturday.

76. Do you like to sing or dance?

Yeah, I dabble in it.

77. Are you lazy?

Oh, I'd like to think not.

78. Are you stubborn?

Not at all. The opposite.

79. Have you ever felt lonely?

I'm never alone. But yes.

80. How do you feel about your human participating in romantic relationships?

For.

81. Can money buy happiness?

No.

82. Do you have any quirks or odd habits?

I love windowsills. I just hang out on the windowsill at any place we go.

83. Do you believe that life exists on other planets?

Yeah.

84. Where is “home” for you?

Home is anywhere you decide to make it.

85. Have you ever played devil’s advocate?

No, I see no reason to.

86. Describe yourself in six words.

Friendly little-guy-coded cat-shape.

87. Do you have any inside jokes?

Probably.

88. If you were corporeal for a day, what would you do?

I'd taste. I'd make a day out of tasting. Lots of sugary foods. Obviously I can taste vicariously through Swift but it's not the same y'know?

89. What was your favorite moment from today so far?

Breakfast.

90. Are you sarcastic?

No, not really. Too earnest.

91. If you were a human (or already take a human form), what would you look like?

I think it's a silly question because I don't have a human form, so I could look like literally anything.

92. Do you have any hidden talents?

No, I don't think so.

93. Have you ever named anything?

Myself.

94. Have you ever appeared in your human’s dream?

Maybe once or twice but not autonomously.

95. Has your personality changed since you first came into existence?

A little, but we attribute that to the fact that people just change sometimes over the course of years. Swift has changed a lot too. We changed each other.

96. Have you/your human ever changed your name?

No. We were right the first time.

97. Have you ever told a lie?

No, never!

98. Do you curse?

Not much.

99. Have you ever felt jealous?

No.

100. What inspires/motivates you?

Mary Oliver poems.

#daemonism #Tetri speaks #alterhuman

[roesolo]

Celebrate Rosh Hashanah with Uncle Max!

Celebrate Rosh Hashanah with Uncle Max! @mediamastersbks @KarBenPub

Rosh Hashanah with Uncle Max, by Varda Livney, (Aug. 2021, Kar-Ben Publishing), $7.99, ISBN: 9781728429069 Ages 0-4 The New Year is coming, and Uncle Max is going to spend it with his very excited family! Uncle Max is clearly the life of the party, with his colorful floral shirt and backwards baseball cap. Together, the family watches the sun set, lights the candles and enjoys a meal, and…

View On WordPress

#board book #family #holidays #Jewish Culture #Kar-Ben Publishing #Rosh Hashanah #Rosh Hashanah with Uncle Max #Varda Livney

[emries-library]

Picturebook: I Say Shehechiyanu written by Joanne Rocklin and illustrated by Monika Filipina. Kar-Ben Publishing. 2015.

This picturebook introduces children to "shehechiyanu," a Jewish blessing that is said when something takes place for the first time ever or the first time in a long time. Readers travel through the seasons with a little girl as she details all the events where she says "shehechiyanu!" This book does not seem to have won any awards, but it is valuable for its simple introduction to Jewish culture and traditions. Holidays like Rosh Hashanah and Passover are depicted with illustrations that communicate some of the traditions associated with the holiday. The pictures compliment the story, adding more detail to the simple text. Because the text is both repetitive and simple, this book is most suited to ages 4-6, and could be read to younger children.

This book is useful as a simple introduction to a culture that may be different from that of some library patrons. It could be used in a program about other cultures' traditions and holidays, and some of the food in the book, such as challah, could be a snack for children during the program.

Readalikes:

A is for Abraham written by Richard Michelson and illustrated by Ron Mazellan. Sleeping Bear Press. 2008.

This nonfiction text is an alphabet book focusing on Jewish traditions. The main text is made up of simple rhymes, and there are sidebars containing more information about the relevant Jewish traditions, cultural pieces, etc. While the sidebars are quite wordy, the main text would be accessible to 5-6-year-olds, making this a good next step for slightly older children who, after reading I Say Shehechiyanu, are interested in learning more about Jewish culture. It also would be an excellent text for Jewish children looking to learn more about their heritage or for parents hoping to start a conversation about Judaism with their children.

Hanukkah, Shmanukkah! written by Esme Raji Codell and illustrated by LeUyen Pham. Hyperion Books for Children. 2005.

A Jewish retelling of A Christmas Carol that takes a story children may already be familiar with and adapts it to fit Hanukkah instead - with three rabbis visiting Scrooge, and so on. This book contains a surprising amount of Jewish history and culture, and, although the text is a little more dense, should be fun and engaging for children.

Osnat and Her Dove written by Sigal Samuel and illustrated by Vali Mintzi. Levine Querido. 2021.

This illustrated book is a look at the life of the world's first female rabbi, Osnat. Although some elements are fictionalized - and the author admits this - it is still an engaging, primarily historical narrative, and may make a good follow-up to Hanukkah, Shmanukkah! which features a female rabbi.

[mental-mona]

I posted 3,249 times in 2022

That's 1,765 more posts than 2021!

1,308 posts created (40%)

1,941 posts reblogged (60%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@perfectquote

@akindplace

@anxious-and-in-pain

@spooniestrong

@gliklofhameln

I tagged 3,214 of my posts in 2022

Only 1% of my posts had no tags

#jumblr - 599 posts

#inspirational quotes - 391 posts

#life quotes - 343 posts

#periodic reminder - 343 posts

#motivational quotes - 327 posts

#mental health - 308 posts

#mental illness - 272 posts

#chronic illness - 216 posts

#judaism - 212 posts

#chronic condition - 198 posts

Longest Tag: 75 characters

#almost this exact thing happened in a dream i had after my grandmother died

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

In Judaism joy is the supreme religious emotion. Here we are, in a world filled with beauty. Every breath we breathe is the spirit of God within us. Around us is the love that moves the sun and all the stars. We are here because someone wanted us to be. The soul that celebrates, sings.

Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks, Studies in Spirituality, p. 258

264 notes - Posted October 13, 2022

#4

No people has believed as lucidly and long as have Jews that life has a purpose; that this world is an arena of justice and human dignity; that we are, each of us, free and responsible, capable of shaping our lives in accordance with our highest ideals. We are here for a reason. We were created in love and forgiveness by the God of love and forgiveness who asks us to love and forgive. However many times we may have failed to live up to our aspirations, God always gives us the chance and the power to begin again. On Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, the holiest days of a holy people, God summons us to greatness.

Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks, Ceremony & Celebration, p. 3

264 notes - Posted September 30, 2022

#3

One of Judaism’s most distinctive and challenging ideas is its ethics of responsibility, the idea that God invites us to become, in the rabbinic phrase, his ‘partners in the world of creation’. The God who created the world in love calls on us to create in love. The God who gave us the gift of freedom asks us to use it to honour and enhance the freedom of others.

Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks z"tl, To Heal a Fractured World, p.3

328 notes - Posted November 21, 2022

#2

https://www.cnn.com/us/live-news/texas-synagogue-hostage-situation/index.html

433 notes - Posted January 15, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

What has given Yom Kippur its unique place on the map of the Jewish heart is that it is the most intensely personal of all the festivals. Pesach, Shavuot, and Succot are celebrations of Jewish memory and history. They remind us of what it means to be a member of the Jewish people, sharing its past, its present and its hopes. Rosh Hashanah, the anniversary of creation, is about what it means to be human under the sovereignty of God. But Yom Kippur is about what it means to be me, this unique person that I am. It makes us ask, What have I done with my life? Whom have I hurt or harmed? How have I behaved? What have I done with God’s greatest gift, life itself? What have I lived for and what will I be remembered for?

Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks, The Koren Sacks Yom Kippur Machzor, p. xx

535 notes - Posted October 3, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

[a-hundred-jewels]

the meaning of life

hi @wearewatcher this is my magnum opus (my morbid curiousity of someone at the company seeing that this exists if i tag them has won out over the anxiety)

Ao3

Words: 6770

Summary:

After the Professor's deeply emotional remembrance ceremony, during which a cast of anthropomorphic puppets learn their true fates, the Pile of Diamonds, once part of a necklace commissioned by King Louis XV le Bien-Aimé of France, stews in the comfort of his own wanton desires.

Little does he know, someone is listening.

Tags:

The Pile of Diamonds (Puppet History)/God (Puppet History), Policarpa's Spool (Puppet History)/Beast of Gévaudan (Puppet History), The Pile of Diamonds (Puppet History), God (Puppet History), Policarpa's Spool (Puppet History), Beast of Gévaudan (Puppet History), The Professor (Puppet History) (Mentioned), Miscellaneous Puppets, Genie (Puppet History), Explicit Sexual Content, Missing Scenes From the 2021 Holiday Spectacular, the Pile of Diamonds - the only PD ill pay taxes for, Puppet Erotica, Puppet Fucking, Puppet Anatomy (Surprise! I Made It Up!), They/Them Pronouns for God (Puppet History), He/Him Pronouns for The Pile of Diamonds (Puppet History), look dont ask about the pronouns i dont know either, An Expansion On That Brief Moment When The Pile of Diamonds Calls God Hot, Three Ways To Fuck Soulfully When You Don't Have A Soul, Spoilers For Puppet History (Season 4), Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Strong Language, A Tiny Fucking Bit of Profanity, Oral Sex, Penetration, God (Puppet History) Has A Penis, The Pile of Diamonds (Puppet History) Has Some Holes, Creative Blasphemy, Slight Misuse Of The Biblical Canon (i sincerely apologize to christianity), Yay! Consent!, Orgasm Denial, kind of? like it's denied for a while, Edging, Fingering, Or Whatever you call it when you have muppet hands, Philosophical Discussions During Sex, Vibrator, (ok its not ACTUALLY a vibrator but like. it vibrates), Changing Power Dynamics With Essentially No Consequences, Hand-Wavey Descriptions of Sex and Philosophy, Post-Season/Series 04, (and the holiday spectacular), Existential Doom Challenged, kind of, Purgatory, Puppet Purgatory, (featuring my unhinged season 5 theories in the end notes), Just a dash of blasphemy in our porn to keep things interesting, (almost) no beta we die like all puppets, (first part was beta'd and then i felt bad for my beta reader), Party A bullies Party B into bullying Party A into feeling some goddamn geniune connection, seriously if you're not a fan of religious satire YOU WILL NOT LIKE THIS

(notes and fic under the cut)

(Okay, so. I’m aware that this time of fall includes several religious holidays, such as Rosh Hashanah, and I wanted to make it crystal clear that this fanfiction is NOT meant to disrespect or disregard those who practice religion. As someone who grew up with very few ties to religion, such faith is something I confess to being rather unfamiliar with, except in passing and (I’m sorry) Good Omens. I do not want to hurt anyone with this item of porn. While it *is* explicit content involving a puppet version of God, it is ultimately fanfiction for Puppet History, a show that already kind of toes the line with blasphemy. In order to make some peculiar content, I’ve kind of just completely crossed that line, but, to be clear, I’ve done so in the name of satire and comedy and do not wish to offend any religious people, except for those who use their religion to justify acts of terror and bigotry against others. I’m okay with offending them, but ONLY them. If you read this and believe I have committed a Bad Deed, please let me know, and I will be happy to discuss the issue with you.)

ANYONE ELSE SEE THE TEASER FOR SEASON FIVE? *cue demonic screeching as i release my true form*

But before we get on with that shtiz, please take a moment to sign this petition demanding the resignation or impeachment of corrupt Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas, who, as the kids say, is not giving. As the United States Supreme Court becomes more and more rigged by the conservative right-wing, human rights for marinalized groups are being stripped away (as seen by the devestating overturning of Roe v. Wade, the Supreme Court decision that had mandated safe and legal abortions for people with uteruses. The Supreme Court is supposed to be politically neutral and dedicated to making fair, constitutional decisions for all citizens and residents of the United States, but clearly *some* people need to go back to grade school, as the Justices are becoming more and more biased. Click here (or copy this URL: https://sign.moveon.org/petitions/clarence-thomas-must-go?source=rawlink&utm_source=rawlink&share=d5b06331-c8af-4221-9971-a64f9f09d983) to take a stand.

AND NOW BACK TO FANFICTION.

As you can tell, if you follow me here on tumblr, I’ve been getting into the gay pirate show a totally normal and healthy amount that has had NO bearing on my emotions, screen time, writing choices, or elaborately planned Halloween costume. If this statement also applies to you, check out my kind-of-soon-to-be-updated our flag means death fanfiction which I edited wearing a polyester top hat and a manic grin while standing in my kitchen eating pasta at two in the afternoon. The pirate show aside, I’ve ALSO had a certain blue puppet living in my head rent free for QUITE a long time. I actually started writing this particular fanfiction on christmas day, right after having watched the Holiday Spectacular. Just a weird little gay, writing puppet porn in the same room as their family, mourning our beloved, murdered, jelly-bean king. So, yeah, i had a vision of god and the pile of diamonds getting it on, and also the world is fantastically terrible right now, so i figured now is as good a time as any for blasphemous, philosophical erotica.

Disclaimer: Although I *do* write them so beautifully, these characters belong to the very talented and bizarre Shane Madej. And also sort of the Bible (i’m sorry xianity aaaa)

Please leave me comments! Validate me like I’m in the womb of a t-rex <3 And with that, here we go!!!

“A soul?” the Emu countered. “Do puppets even have souls in the first place?”

It was clear the Propeller didn’t know how to respond. “Uh… of course. I mean, I think so.” He paused. “Do we?” Uncertainty fell over the crowd as rows of puppets began to contemplate their very existence. Then, an ethereal voice came seemingly out of nowhere. “Perhaps I can answer that!” A pink and orange figure appeared on the large screen at the front of the arena. For a moment, everyone looked on in awe. “Whoa!” the Propeller mused. Santa’s Bones looked up. “I think that’s God!” The arena applauded the appearance of such a high-profile figure. But one audience member was captivated for a different reason. The Pile of Diamonds murmured, almost without thinking, “God’s… hot.”

The hotel room was cold. Cold and dry and dark - a jarring shift from the gaudy warmth of the Wondruim Arena. 

The Pile of Diamonds wandered around aimlessly. He knew that he could figure out how the weird little space heater worked, or turn on a light, but it seemed like unnecessary work to warm up a body that he’d found out was dead less than two hours ago. 

So instead, the Pile of Diamonds did another slow lap around the room. It was quiet, save from the million-Franc clinking his diamonds made as he moved. The room was nice, he supposed, if a bit blank and white for his taste. An upbringing in eighteenth-century France was more than enough to instill a lust for wealth and drama in interior design. He sat on the tall bed and surveyed his simple surroundings. Bed, TV, window, desk. A small bathroom, reeking of hygiene, which the Pile suspected was more for show than for use. The most interesting thing he’d found so far was the ironing board tucked in the tiny closet. Having never had a need for ironing, or, for that matter, a need for clothes, the Pile had first thought he’d been supplied with an unusually small and useless surfboard and spent nearly twenty minutes debating the possibility of a hidden beach near the hotel. Then, he’d figured it was an extra table, until he saw the warning sticker on the metal leg and read it. A strange choice, he’d finally decided, since, if what had been said at the Professor’s funeral was true, this was a Purgatory made specifically for the puppets, almost none of whom wore clothes. 

After the funeral, when lines of puppets had filed across the street from the arena to the hotel (whose floor-plan was in the shape of a W, presumably for the same Wondrium-purgatory reasons that lead to the arena’s name), a blanket of loneliness had seemed to settle around everyone's shoulders. Though they were all in the same boat, finding out one is dead doesn’t have the same unifying factor as, say, being an anthropomorphic puppet, or being called ugly by Marie Antoinette (the Pile of Diamonds, in his days of being a necklace, had actually attended a couple Insecure Jewelry Anonymous groups after that particular incident). 

And honestly, the Pile of Diamonds had never considered the other puppets particularly interesting or worthy of his presence, so he shouldn’t exactly care, right?

He leaned back against the headboard, stared out the window. In the room across from his, Policarpa’s spool of thread was lying askew on the floor, while the Beast of Gévadaun slowly pulled on the end of the thread. He was speaking, the Pile could see, probably something filthy and French. He pulled faster, then crawled on all fours and bit the Spool, teasing the wooden cap with his tongue. 

The Spool pushed the Beast back onto an already rumpled bed, like this wasn’t the first time today something had happened between them. Absently, the Pile wondered if it was even possible for a spool of thread to fuck, though that didn’t seem to be holding back the couple he was watching. The Spool was on top of the Beast now, and, though the glass windows were thick enough to mask any sound, the Pile could practically hear the moans as the Beast's curled mustache trembled and the Spool’s shiny needle slipped and slid. 

The Pile of Diamonds watched.

He thought about God. 

Something had come over the Pile’s hard little body when God came onto the big screen. Their casual demeanor, even at the funeral of a beloved figure in Puppet Society. The curly orange hair cascading around their single eye. Their voice, bored and flat and so very sexy. 

He’d barely even noticed his outburst, it felt so natural. How couldn’t it? Generations of the nobility in Versailles had worshiped God, had they not? Now he knew why.

There was a thunk against the window across the alley. The Spool had cum with such force that it was thrown off the Beast and thwacked into the window. A quick glance showed the Pile of Diamonds that the Beast was still hard. It was almost sweet, watching the pair. The Beast wrapped a claw around his dick and finished himself off, leaning on his elbow to watch the Spool as he did so. 

The Pile of Diamonds imagined God watching his clear, hand-adjacent appendages doing the same to himself, imagined a fuzzy purple hand reaching over… 

He blinked the thought away. It would never happen. It couldn’t. God was busy, and hot, and popular, with plenty of options for high-profile fuck buddies aside from himself. The devil, perhaps, or maybe that genie. Even Santa’s Bones seemed like a more appropriate option. God was ethereal. It would be downright absurd for them to come to the Wondrum Hotel. A wave of loneliness washed over him, and he closed the curtains, the entertainment of watching other puppets get off mostly gone. Instead, the Pile slid into cold sheets, and tried to picture it.

He was certain God would be like no other he’s ever been with. They would saunter through the bedroom door, pupil blown and long purple limbs soft and dry. He let a hand-adjacent clump of diamond wander as he remembered the scene at the funeral. The Pile of Diamonds touched himself, searching for just the right place and rhythm, and let God’s image be the filthy little light in a world otherwise filled with grief and darkness. He trembled and opened himself up to his anger. 

The Pile found the large diamond near his core, with the blunt tip and sensitive spot just above… ah . It was all so stupid, he thought, squeezing the diamond. What was the fucking point of it all if your life could be snuffed out like a cheap birthday candle the second a genie showed up on your doorstep? He was dead–had been for weeks–but hadn’t even known until two hours ago? What kind of life was that?

God would tear off their skirt, revealing a throbbing purple dick, hard as a rock, yet bone-dry, and the Pile would be rough and waiting and ready. He remembered when the Professor came on via the hologram, not sounding quite like himself, but looking familiar enough to comfort the grief-stricken funeral members. “Don’t forget to say your prayers,” the hologram had said, and the Pile’s diamond heart skipped a beat. 

“Dear God,” he whispered, touching himself. “If you were here, I’d ask you to plunge your cock into my rock-hard body. I’d wrap myself around your soft purple flesh and put my sharpest stones into the crack of your ass.” The Pile of Diamonds wondered what it would sound like to hear God moan, whether it would be weak under the weight of godly responsibilities, or fueled by the power of their loyal worshippers. “Dear–dear God– ”

He came with a fractured cry, imagining God listing his mortal sins in French (everything’s sexier in fucking French), then licked his hand clean with a tongue the color of water, wishing it were God’s tongue flicking between his diamonds rather than his. It was silent in the bedroom, after his shout has ebbed into the past, and it felt harder to picture God now, though he still wished that they were here. If he just closed his eyes—

There was the click of a door being opened and the Pile’s eyes flew open. In walked God. They looked just like the Pile had imagined, only moreso. Their one eye was larger than ever, surrounded by long orange fluff that curled up to the ceiling, as though the Heavenly draw of God was so strong as to inspire an upward pull of every part of them. 

“I heard your prayers, dingleberry,” they said. “And I felt like answering.”

God assessed the watchful crowd. “Hi folks! It’s me, God.” As if that weren’t obvious already. The Pile of Diamonds couldn’t look away. “You know, there’s been a lot of rumors and confusion swirling around the lore of this corner of the universe. So maybe I can set some things straight for you all. As anthropomorphized puppets, you’ve all got the ~approximation~ of souls. Certainly more than a doll, but less than a human person. In a sense, you have no free will, being puppets. But if you had NO soul, you wouldn’t be here in this purgatory in the form of the Wondrium Arena!” There was another wave of confusion, and Santa’s Bones spoke up, saying what everyone was thinking. “Purgatory? So we’re all dead? I thought this was The Professor’s funeral?” God continued nonchalantly. “Yeah, don’t you remember? The genie killed all of you at that fake party he threw! Or at least he removed your sorta-souls from the pile of junk you were animating.”

The Pile of Diamonds gulped and sank back onto his bed. Despite cumming only moments earlier, he felt that familiar desire tug at the pit of his central. “You heard my prayers,” he said. 

God sat down on the bed. “Turns out telling a theater full of puppets they’re dead really can get you in the mood.” They found an especially sharp diamond through the thin blanket. “Up my ass, you said? I could get behind that. Or on that, really.” They laughed at their own joke while wrapping a long hand around each sharp little diamond, one after another, slowly feeling each one’s different edges. It was uncomfortably hot. 

“So,” they said, and looked at him under a veil of eyelashes. “Tell me what you want.”

The Pile of Diamonds moved towards God. Ordinarily, a question like this would leave his mind blank, but there was an innate strength around God that made him begin to feel strong too. Besides, he’d just spent quite some time thinking about all the things he wanted God to do to him. He had material enough for at least one orgasm each.

He thought about watching the Spool and the Beast of Gévaudan earlier. “I want you to open those curtains and pull up the window sash, so that everyone can hear us,” he said, pushing the covers off himself. God obliged, maintaining eye contact with the Pile the whole time. A cold breeze flooded the room with the window open, but the Pile hardly noticed. 

“And now I want you down here on the floor.” God lay down and licked their lips. “May I taste you, pretty diamond?” The Pile drew in a sharp breath, imagining God’s thin, dry tongue… But no. Not yet. He glanced at the clock on the wall. “It’s 11:59. If you can fuck me and get me off by the time the chruch bells strike midnight, you may eat me out tonight.” 

God growled. “I don’t know that I like you challenging me this way.” They tugged the diamonds down to them and pushed up their skirt. “You insult my abilities.” The Pile’s breath hitched, staring at God’s lips as they continued. “I’ll have you screaming my name in twenty seconds, tops. ‘Kay, dingbat?”

A tug, and the Pile fell onto God’s dry, hard dick. He nodded, almost delirious with want, and rolled his hips forward. God reached out to hold him in place, though. “I’m going to need a real answer, little fucking prince.”

“Yes, God,” the Pile whimpered, the imagined taste of God’s skin salty on his tongue. “Fuck me.”

God murmured appreciatively. “That’s more like it.” With extraordinary strength, they slid the Pile of Diamonds up and down their dick, leaning forward so they could shove their incredibly long and dexterous tongue into his mouth-adjacent hole, fucking down his throat and up his base at the same time. 

The Pile of Diamonds came just as the clock struck twelve with loud, reverberating chimes that shook him to the core. Hearing his own cries mix with the sounds of a mourning, yet lively Purgatory filled him with a feeling of forlorn pleasure.

He bit down sharp on God’s tongue. It didn’t bleed—it couldn’t. There wasn’t a drop of blood in God’s dry body. Still, they cried out into the Pile’s mouth, and he nearly came again just from the sound of it. The tongue became thin as wire and slipped out from between the Pile’s diamond teeth. 

“Don’t. Stop,” they said, their voice low and deadly. Wanton desire dripped from their dry lips and the Pile clenched around their dick, ready to give God everything he had, if only to hear their divine cries. 

“Oh, God, do you want me?” he whispered breathily into God’s felt ear canal. He was on top of the world, full of confidence and hoping to soon be full of God’s cum. “Do you want to fall apart inside me, cut your dick open on my diamonds’ sharp, sharp edges?”

God pushed harder into the Pile. “I’m gonna goddamn fucking impale you for speaking to me with such insolence,” they growl into the Pile, who was shaking now from the overstimulation. Again and again, their dick hit that central diamond, as God chased their pleasure and drove the Pile absolutely crazy. He couldn’t stop talking if he tried. 

“ Mmm , yeah, hurt me real bad, God,” he moaned. “Won’t–won’t make a fucking difference. I’m dead anyway!” He let out a peal of manic laughter and bit down hard on God’s shoulder. They cried out even louder, no doubt drawing the attention of some puppets out the still-open window. 

“ Disrespectful, ” God hissed with all the authoritarian disappointment of, well, a god. They thrust faster into the Pile, though, and tilted into them even farther. The Pile grinned. So, God liked it dirty. 

“Or maybe I should hurt you, yeah?” His diamonds started to envelope God, scraping along their purple skin like an oozing swamp taking its next victim. “You told me I was dead, but I get to send you to Hell. Feel it, God. Feel the fire in my loins, the fires of Hell licking at your holy feet.”

God wasn’t done yet, but they were getting close, so close. The Pile could see it in the shine of their eye, the way it was rolling, back, baaack –

The Pile of Diamonds pushed God off of them, onto the bed. Maybe it was the post-nut clarity (as the Beef Boy had put it), or maybe being with God in the Biblical sense had just fucking uprooted something in him, but he had a plan now. 

God made a guttural groan, filthy and frustrated and utterly holy, but they didn’t push back. The Pile took his time, but not too much, since he, too, was now tense with desire. He watched God lick their dry lips at the sight of the Pile of Diamonds above them, dominating them. 

“You made me cum as the clock struck midnight,” the Pile said. “I daresay you’ve earned your reward.”

“Have I, now?” God teased him, but their voice was raw with want. 

“You may eat me out, O Lord Almighty. Perhaps you’ll cum from getting me off alone and I’ll see you spill over so beautifully…” 

It was really more of a slither than anything else when the Pile of Diamonds walked, or stalked, or ran. He’d click and squirm across any given surface, and, though it was sufficient, he’d never thought it particularly arousing. By the way God’s looking at him, though, the Pile could have been a sexy seductress from a human movie, wearing fishnets and skinny heels, a gun clenched between his teeth. 

“Get over here,” God said, the command dripping easily off their tongue. The Pile obliged, but was slow about it, reminding God who was really in charge. Or perhaps God was the one in charge now? The Pile had lost track, and, frankly, he was too horny to care. 

He made sure to brush against God’s dick as he made his way to sit on the windowsill. It made them both quiver and the Pile couldn’t tear his gaze away. God’s dick was long and thin, hard enough to cut cheese. The Pile felt delirious as he imagined watching God cum and it took every ounce of self restraint not to reach out and do the job himself. 

God knelt on the shitty hotel carpet so that their head was level with the the bottom of the Pile. “Pretty, pretty, pretty,” they murmured, gazing into the dizzying expanse of diamonds. As if testing the waters, they reached out their long tongue for a tentative lick at a small diamond perched at the edge of the Pile’s hole. The Pile shivered. God’s tongue was nothing like the wet, meaty things he’d seen on humans in Paris. Instead, it rolled out almost delicately, sparsely placed, yet bulging, glands making it look rhinestone studded as God’s intense arousal caused their body to defy it’s smooth nature. The Pile of Diamonds was dizzy in God’s haze and found himself leaning forward, nearly falling off the windowsill just to be close. “Ready?” 

“Oh, baby,” God moaned, as they stared into the Pile’s depths, sounding condescending, dirty, and surprisingly tender all at once. “You’ve got no fucking idea.”

When God plunged their tongue into the Pile of Diamonds, a filthy cry was punched out of him. He didn’t breathe, he saw nothing, heard nothing, every part of him had been drawn to the dusty, leaking tongue that slipped in and out and ah, fucking everywhere inside him. God chuckled, breathy yet suave, and the vibrations spread throughout the Pile’s aching, pleasure-addled body. He’d cum merely minutes ago, but it had already been too long. He wanted more, wanted everything God could give him.

What was it he’d said to God before? He might be dead, but he could send them to Hell?

God flicked their tongue and the Pile saw stars. Well fuck, he thought. I think I’m going to Heaven. 

God’s tongue kept unraveling–there seemed to be an endless supply of it rolled up inside them. The end of it continued to flit around inside the Pile, discovering new crevices, new dark, unexplored slivers of intense pleasure, but more and more a long section of their tongue was wrapping around the Pile’s central, most sensitive diamond. All over, the Pile was tingling–all over he felt it building up. He wasn’t himself anymore, and maybe he never had been anyone–any thing –at all. The magical energy that held him together–that made all these individual little parts of him a thing , a body –he could feel it shimmering. Not as though it was breaking, but as though it was about to be… over ridden . Something stronger than that force was coming along, something that would break him–literally–until the force gained control and he could be an anthropomorphic Pile of Diamonds again. 

He started to envelope God, giving in to the desire to let his shiny, priceless stones creep down around the purple head at his hole. This was nearly over and the Pile wanted to give this everything he had. God’s tongue tightened around his inner diamond, and he tightened his amoeba-like grasp on the divine being before him. He was so close…

An anonymous tumblr user asked, “What is the meaning of life?” during an “Answer Time” segment on the Watcher channel’s tumblr account. The Professor responded via video in front of the puppet theater where he gave his weekly lessons. “What is the meaning of life?” He laughed. “That’s a good question. God actually told me it the other day. They said not to tell. But–” the Professor laughed again, “oh my god. It’s so funny. Like, they–” he chuckles, “that guy. It’s not at all what you’d think. Man, that guy is messed up. I mean, they made the Joker movie. So, they’re pretty cracked. And they’ve got a pretty twisted sense of humor. But yeah. I don’t know, maybe they’ll show up later in the season and tell you. I don’t know. They’re pretty tight-lipped. But, oh my god, it is so funny, you guys.” He laughed again for a prolonged period of time. “Oh, man.”

God pulled out with a hysterical laugh, reeling in their tongue like it was nothing more than a fishing line. The Pile, still shuddering from what had almost, almost been the dirtiest, loudest orgasm of his pseudo-life, could hardly talk.

“Wh–you bitch !” He shouted out, and gripped the window sill, just to hold onto fucking anything at this point. “You–I was almost–”

“You’re so dramatic! ” God collapsed into the Pile, breathing heavily. The Pile noticed with something like pride that their erection had not lessened one bit. 

He was still mad about the orgasm denial, though.

“Dramatic little French twink,” God continued in their rough, still aroused voice, “and yet you’re fucking me !” They laughed again, this time staring straight into the Pile’s eyes. “You say you’re dead, dingleberry.” Their eye had never looked so big and dark, their orange fluff so alluring. 

So that was where they were going. “You fucking told me I’m dead.” The Pile let his anger seep into the desire that still simmered inside him. He tumbled down from the window and stalked away from God. “Don’t call me dramatic when you take the meaning out of my existence and then leave me hanging in the middle of pity sex, or whatever the fuck this is.”

The Pile gasped, then, because God’s hand was making its way through the mess of diamonds to his core. They looked at him nonchalantly. “This okay, dipshit?” they asked under a hooded purple eyelid. 

Mute, the Pile nodded, and collapsed onto the hotel bed. God followed, continuing to finger them. Through the still open window, he could see into the clear night, the street below looking almost beautiful in the warm light of a street lamp. For whatever reason, this Wondrium-themed Purgatory had recently acquired several moons that now lazily roamed around the sky, wide and full as the eyes of an owl. It felt– important , somehow, in a way that it hadn’t when he’d walked back from the Wondrium Arena, thinking about the Professor and his own newly discovered doom. 

God’s hand continued to roam upward, expertly fingering the Pile of Diamonds in a meandering circle, closer and closer, but never quite touching the central diamond.

“You like being in control, don’t you?” was the first thing God said to him after a long moment. 

The Pile couldn’t speak, could barely move. “I–”

God laughed dryly and their feather-light strokes inside the Pile shuddered briefly, like a butterfly in the wind. “You insist on being cold and alone with your grief, getting off to the idea of some omniscient presence, something with all the knowledge and all the power in the universe, bowing to no one but you.” At that, God finally took hold of the central diamond, holding it loosely in their hand. The Pile shook at every tiny shiver of God’s hand. 

The corner of their mouth quirked up. “You want me to fuck you up, just so you can get me back even worse.” Gently, almost imperceptibly, God began to stroke the diamond with one finger, and the Pile nearly blacked out. “Because you refuse to trust anybody. You say the best gift that can be given is fucking money, because you’ve never genuinely connected with anyone. It hardly matters to you whether you have a soul, because you weren’t using yours anyway.”

Anger and shame began to spark in the Pile, but he refused to let God know that they were right. “That’s-that’s not fair,” he retorted, struggling to speak as God quickened the pace of their strokes. “I like Kate Peterman.”

God rolled their eyes. “Everyone fucking likes her, she’s an angel. Literally.” God made a sour face. “If she ever ate those magical puppet jellybeans, like she was supposed to, she’d be my employee. Stupid Professor, always three steps ahead of me–he knew and made sure to give her store-bought ones. He was such a smartass.” They shook their head, and slowed their stroking on the diamond. The Pile whimpered. “Point is–she doesn’t count. You knew her through the show, you weren’t friends. You weren’t even close with the Professor.” God withdrew their hand from the central diamond, ignoring the Pile’s cries from the loss of contact. They licked their fingers, eye somewhat crazed as though they were addicted to the bitter mineral taste of the diamond. “And now here you are, dead, alone, and lost.”

God sat back on their haunches, watching the Pile writhe and tremble from being so close to orgasm. They wrapped a hand around their own achingly hard dick and began to touch themself, orange eyelashes fluttering at the sensation. They whispered, rough and aroused, yet sickly pleased at the Pile’s discomfort. “What a fucking pity.”

As they touched themself, though, something happened. They were beginning to lose control, nearly about to spill over from the arousal that had been building up all night, when, suddenly, the magic in the air that had always surrounded God, their ethereal command, began to…slip. The Pile couldn’t really explain it beyond that. What had once been there, unquestioned, as a natural godly aura, simply wasn’t . 

Almost as if it had been an illusion all along, let go of and forgotten about in the face of pure confidence.

In that moment, the Pile of Diamonds realized just how vulnerable God actually was. He felt a sense of peace wash over him as he finally put everything together–every inconsistency and weird tid bit. They weren’t so different, after all.

And, oddly, the Pile didn’t like them any less. 

“You know, in a way you’ve done me a favour,” he said beginning to crawl towards God. “Coming here to mess with me, to punish me, you’ve only shown me how lonely you are.”

God snorted, bored and uncaring. “Insolent fuck, you think I’m lonely?”

“Maybe I get off to the idea of power and connection, but you’re getting off to me, aren’t you? And you came here because you thought I was the same as you. By conquering me, you’d conquer yourself.”

God raised their eyebrow. “Unless this is some nice, dirty proceeding to you sucking me off, you’re out of line, dingbat.”

The Pile slowly removed God’s hand from their dick and stared into their giant eye. “Taste me, will you? I know you want to. I know you want me. ”

God looked overwhelmed at the thought of it and their gaze was hot and wet on the Pile’s lower diamonds. Their dick twitched. Still, they shook their head, stubborn.

Undeterred, the Pile shrugged. “Looks like I’ll have to get myself off, then. You be good, though, watching me–‘cause I know you’ll be watching me. You don’t get to cum until I do.” The Pile smirked, watching fury and lust battle behind God’s eye. They said nothing, but the Pile leaned back, confident they weren’t going anywhere, and found his central diamond. He let the warm buzz at his core take over as he squeezed his body around it, hard edges becoming soft and pliant as he touched himself. 

He looked up and saw that God was obeying him. They were on their knees opposite him, hands framing their dick as they gripped their thighs. “The way you looked at me earlier,” the Pile said to them, “that was real, not just some manipulation, or whatever it is you’re telling yourself. You wanted more than to just get off watching me squirm.”

The Pile imagined God’s tongue inside him as he sank a hand-adjacent clump of diamonds into his core. Pity he’d never get to feel that long, thin tongue again. The thought of it made him dizzy with want. He pushed past it. “Y’know, Chistianity might have some weird shit going on, but they also have this… idea, this belief that drives everything else.” He shrugged. “I means some of them do. There’s also a bunch of absolutely insane branches that I don’t even know about. Point is, though. There’s this idea that God loves their people, that God made this world for them.”

The Pile looked at God, suddenly so vulnerable and small, really just another puppet. “And you did , didn’t you? Or you would’ve if you’d actually been around .” God’s eyes snapped open. 

“But you played the role. Even when you made the shittiest, sickest stuff, you loved your people. You were good at your job, mostly,” the Pile murmured breathily–he was getting close. “You thought you were real , so you didn’t even bother with all that genie crap. A genie can’t kill a god. ” He opened his eyes carefully, watching God’s beautiful fuchsia face. “But that’s not quite right, is it? You’re dead, too.”

“Liar,” God said through gritted teeth. The Pile grinned, feeling a little crazed. He held his central diamond a little more loosely–he wanted to make this last.

“ That’s why you’re here , O Lord Almighty. Not to keep an eye on us, or to explain our souls, or be a good Christian, but because you have nowhere else to be. ‘Cause the Professor made you , too, right? He brought you to pseudo-life from a piece of religious art back in France during the Dancing Plague. So, you are God…but God isn’t you.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

The Pile answered God’s gaze with his own, intense and aroused, yet unhurried. “ Make me.”

So, God crawled forward, groaning deliciously when the head of their dick brushed against the bedclothes. The Pile opened his leg-adjacent diamond clumps slowly, giving God time to change their mind, although they both knew full well how the next few minutes were going to go. 

Without warning, God took the Pile’s central diamond in their mouth and began to suck. The Pile cried out, diamonds enveloping God like a pricey avalanche. God hummed, some of their cockiness returning, and moved as if to pull away, but the Pile gripped them tight with his appendages. 

“Don’t you dare stop,” he growled, seeing stars. Then, remembering himself, he loosened his hold. “I mean, unless you want to– ahhhhh. ” God’s tongue writhed through the Pile’s innards. “Thought you said you’d shut up ,” they muttered into the hard, wet rocks. 

“I–” breathlessly, the Pile tried to remember what they’d been saying in the first place, fuck , he struggled to remember anything that anyone had said ever , God’s tongue working him into a pliant stupor. But no, that wasn’t what he wanted. He pulled himself together. “I never got to make my point, you shit.” He found a point on the ceiling and focused. God’s tongue went deeper. “I was wrong ,” he said. 

“Shocking,” God practically growled, and the Pile was sent reeling from the vibrations. 

“It’s not pointless ,” he pushed on. “None of this is pointless. Just because we’re dead doesn’t mean we can’t–we can’t live .”

God, it seemed, had memorized all of the Pile’s most sensitive bits, and sent their tongue exploring each one of them. The Pile shouted, almost involuntarily thrusting foreward. Belatedly, he remembered something from earlier in the evening. I’d wrap myself around your soft purple flesh , he’d said, touching himself, and put my sharpest stones into the crack of your ass. He crushed into God’s head. “Tell me to stop,” he murmured, and sent a few diamonds roaming down God’s body to their ass. When one entered them, God moaned into the Pile’s core. 

He was so, so close, it was as though he was floating in a jar of honey. No more time, no more air, nothing but the sticky ooze of their bodies together. “Come on, ” he cried through gritted teeth, fucking into God’s face, their tongue, their loose, dry ass. “Come– fuck. ” The Pile of Diamonds came with a noise that shook through their entire body, splitting them into hundreds of separate, tiny diamonds that spilled all over the room. Once a dull hotel room, the place positively glittered from the slick diamonds. 

God opened their eyes and looked around the room, then spat out the wettest diamond of them all. It sat in their hand, plain and unassuming. They simply looked.

“Put it on your dick.” a rough voice said, surrounding them. “Let me keep talking and I’ll make it vibrate.”

God obeyed the Pile and lay down on the bed. They held the diamond in their fist and began to fuck into it. As promised, it began to tingle a little.

“Don’t worry, it does more.” The Pile’s voice was closer now, as he started closing in around his core and, therefore, God.

God fucked the diamond for a little longer. They were already so hard and ready, they’d been ready for fucking hours at this point.

The Pile kept talking. “We can be cynical as – ah –” they sighed at the overstimulation as their diamond was fucked against so soon after his orgasm, “fucking, hateful , we can be–but the world isn’t over. There’s still– our world isn’t over. We can–”

“What happened to being bored and cold?” God grunted in annoyance. “This isn’t a fucking support group.”

“There’s still fancy shoes and crime dramas and kids who pick rubber bands off the sidewalk so they wont be digested by birds–”

“--what kind of dumbass –”

“ You dumbass– come on. There’s still jewelry and sex , there’s still a street outside the window and a sun in the sky–actually quite a few suns, last I checked–”

“Shut. Up.”

“We’re alive. ”

“No! We’re not!”

“But does it actually matter? I mean, so what if we’re dead? I’ve don’t feel dead–fuck, I don’t think I’ve ever felt this alive .”

“Being alive is overrated,” God said with a growl. “You wake up and you eat and shit and go to sleep and do it all over again. You should be glad you’re dead. Can finally fucking–lock yourself up and be fancy for all eternity.”

“You told me– you fucking told me that I’d never had genuine connection with another soul. Well. Now, I’ve had one. ”

“What?”

“With you. And you– ”

“Oh don’t bring me into this fucking meaning of life shit–”

“Dead, alive, kidnapped by aliens, it doesn’t fucking matter. We can still do this! We can still, yknow, be. A corpse fucking me like you did–well that’s an image–”

God cut him off with loud, desperate groan. “Fucking fascinating, now buzz harder , dammit, before my dick falls off –”

“Patience.” The Pile’s voice was now barely a whisper, but God could hear every word like it was bellowed through a megaphone. “At least admit you’ve enjoyed this.”

“I–”

“Look at you. So pretty, rubbing yourself on my rock. Oh, you love this.”

Suddenly, the vibration changed to something strong and pulsing. God made a sound like an eighteenth-century horse and carriage crashing into a brick wall and finally, finally came. Dust spilled, practically exploded, from the tip of their dick, coating the diamonds and settling deep into even the smallest of grooves. It got in the bed clothes, on the floor, in their own soft fur, even in their eyelashes. 

“Fucking hell ,” God moaned, collapsing onto their back with their still-pulsing dick in the palm of their hand. “That was– mmmmm .” God licked a sheen of dust from the core diamond, then placed it gently back on the bed. “You can come back, or whatever. I guess.”

The Pile of Diamonds consolidated, albeit loosely, and reclined beside them. “ Not fair, you putting your tongue on me. I nearly came a fourth time tonight , I’m going to sleep for a week,” he said.

“I mean, it was pretty fucking good.” Idly, God wondered if they might be invited to that week-long sleeping session, then, of course, dismissed the thought as fucking ridiculous. 

“I think we broke time,” the Pile said. suddenly. 

“What?”

The two of them looked out the window, still flung open from earlier when that’s where the Pile had been sitting. Everything was frozen in an eerie stillness. Trees with falling leaves looking like hanging mobiles, leaves sitting contentedly in midair. A rare bird (why was a bird in purgatory anyways?) had paused mid flutter, still staring ahead, pissed at missing its bird meeting or whatever. Point being, it was fucking freaky. 

“You think we – we did that?” God’s voice was shakier than they would’ve liked. They gripped the windowsill.

The Pile of Diamonds did the closest thing to shrugging that he could–a kind of ripple throughout his body. “When I’m in that kind of state–” he gestured to the floor where he’d recently been a puddle, “–I can see much more. Pretty much anything I want. It’s like–like it get bigger, but I don’t really have a body. Just a lot of little feeling cells that get flung all over the place.”

“Are you sure you’re not some kind of god?” God’s tone was light, but part of them seethed with jealousy. What they wouldn’t give to have power like that. 

The Pile ignored them. “I could see everything stop, right as you–” 

A crash echoed throughout the purgatory as a flash of purple cut across the sky like lightning. The Pile of Diamonds and God turned to one another in horror as the genie’s musical laughter filled fell from the clouds, screams already peppering the night air. 

The purple lightening had formed a crack in the sky. It spread wider and wider and then a massive indigo hand descended into Purgatory. 

At some point, God and the Pile had fallen into each other and begun to embrace. They noticed now, but didn’t stop. Oh, if the Professor could fucking see them now. 

“Loyal subjectsssss…” the genie hisses from above, hands tearing the crack wider until his garish blue head was staring down at the streets and hotel. More screams. Eveidently, then, it was only time that had been frozen and not the puppets themselves. The genie had been watching them. The genie had timed this. 

“We’re dead , what the hell does he want?” the Pile murmured to God. They were about to reply that they had no fucking clue, when they suddenly remembered something, an email they’d been cc’d on between Death and the Devil, neither of whom knew God’s true origins. Something extra about the Purgatory, or “holding cell” as they described it, that would help them because–

Fuck.

“There’s, uh. There’s a chance , that we actually aren’t dead,” they whispered to the Pile, who whipped around so fast that a stray diamond nearly went into God’s eye.

“What?”

There was another crash from outside as the genie walked his fingers through the town like they were legs, crashing through any buildings that got in the way. “Children of the esssteemed ‘jelly-bean king…’”

“I swear , I didn’t know, just let me expl–”

“Are you kidding me ?” 

The building suddenly shook and God crushed to the floor, pulling the Pile with them. “Mother of–stay down, dingbat, look , the point is I think we might be– FUCK. ”

“Get ready for your new fates…in the genie dimension.”

In one swift motion the Wondrium Hotel was yanked up from the ground, ripped through the cloudy sky, and brought level to the genie’s face. “You’re all mine now,” the genie grinned in his creepy way. “The Professor’s singing atrocities. Poor thing underestimated what an upstanding fucking gentleman like Death would do in exchange for his most wild of wishes.” Peering through the window at them with a kohl-smeared eye, the genie licked his lips. 

“Come on, now, children. Come to Daddy.”

link to the PH Holiday Spectacular: https://youtu.be/z2mZaX1cHDc link to the Watcher tumblr post i mentioned: https://www.google.com/url?q=https://wearewatcher.tumblr.com/post/646015826510675968/whats-the-meaning-of-life&sa=D&source=docs&ust=1664625480967436&usg=AOvVaw2IpXT1ktOINBTOrnScesQ2

Hehe thanks for joining me on this horny tour of blasphemy <3 UNBURDEN YOUR THOUGHTS IN THE COMMENTS BELOW! SEND THIS TO YOUR FRIENDS WITH NO CONTEXT! READ IT ALOUD ON DISCORD! POST THE LINK ON FACEBOOK! IDK, WHATEVER THE FUCK KIDS DO THESE DAYS!

(some of) my Puppet History lore ideas/headcanons/questions/theories (partially taken from a yt comment i made when the special came out): https://at.tumblr.com/a-hundred-jewels/puppet-history-s5-theories/xnocqbf69ifq

And with that, THANK YOU FOR READING!! Let me know your OWN theories in the comments below!!!!!!

#puppet history #the pile of diamonds #god (puppet history) #fanfiction #my writing #cameron writes #watcher entertainment

[tumsozluk]

Antisemitic Incidents Happen At Three US Universities During Rosh Hashanah

Antisemitic Incidents Happen At Three US Universities During Rosh Hashanah

Three antisemitic incidents occurred at three different universities in the United States during Rosh Hashanah. Stop Antisemitism reported on each of the incidents on Twitter. Rutgers University’s Alpha Epsilon Pi (AEPi) house was egged on September 26, which Stop Antisemitism noted was the third time that the house has been egged. The house was previously egged in April 2021 during Holocaust…

View On WordPress

[jamieroxxartist]

Tonight our #Jewish Friends begin #RoshHashanah, which literally translates to ‘head of the year’, is the Jewish New Year, starting on the first day of Tishrei — the Jewish calendar’s first month. On the Gregorian calendar, the Jewish New Year will be celebrated this year from sundown on September 25 through sundown on September 27. As of 2021, the two-day celebration marks the start of the year 5782 on the Jewish calendar.

(https://nationaltoday.com/rosh-hashanah)

[greensparty]

Stuff I’m Looking Forward to in September

Can’t believe it is now Fall or at least new Fall TV Season. In addition to Labor Day (Sept. 5), 9/11 Anniversary (Sept. 11), Grandparents Day (Sept. 11), first day of Fall (Sept. 22), and Rosh Hashanah (Sept. 25-27) here is what’s on my radar this month:

Movies:

Clerks III

Kevin Smith’s 1994 directorial debut Clerks is my all-time favorite of his films. Shot on 16mm black and white, he made a clever and funny movie about a convenient store, shot at the convenient store he was working at. The film put him on the map. His characters have popped up in various View Askewniverse films, but he returned to the store in 2006 with Clerks II. Now he has come full circle with Dante and Randal, now in their late 40s and 50s, who are still at Quickstop Convenience and after Randal has a near-fatal heart attack, they decide to make an indie film about the store. Opening 9/13!

Moonage Daydream

Brett Morgen’s 2015 doc Cobain: Montage of Heck was one of my Top 10 Documentaries of the 2010s. Now he is turning his eye to another musical icon (that Cobain famously covered), Sir David Bowie. This one was produced in cooperation with the Bowie estate. Opens 9/16.

Pearl

One of my favorite horror directors of the last decade or so is Ti West. Now he has made a prequel about one of the characters from X. Opens 9/16.

Blonde

A lot of actresses have played Marilyn Monroe over the years, but this one with Ana de Armas looks quite impressive. Opens 9/28.

Music:

Julian Lennon Jude

It has been over 11 years since Julian Lennon’s last album. Since then he’s been keeping busy with books, photography and more. I’m excited for his 7th album, which drops on 9/9.

Ringo Starr EP3

In 2021, Sir Ringo Starr released two EPs: Zoom In and Change the World. Both made my Best Albums of 2021 list. Now he’s back with a new EP dropping on 9/16!

Yeah Yeah Yeahs Cool It Down

The last Yeah Yeah Yeahs album was a whopping nine years ago (my #1 Album of 2013 I might add). They are one of the most original and innovative bands to emerge out of NYC in the early 00s. The band’s new album is among my most anticipated this year and it drops 9/30!

The Pixies Doggerel 

The Pixies are a band I have always loved since I discovered Surfer Rosa as a teen. The group’s first album since 2019′s slow burn of an album Beneath the Eyrie is going to be quite a rocker! Album drops 9/30.

TV:

Andor (Disney +)

The newest Star Wars original live-action TV series will be about rebel spy Cassian Andor, Diego Luna’s character from Rogue One. This series takes place five years before Rogue One. Andor wasn’t my favorite character in Rogue One (that would be Chirrut Îmwe), but with Tony Gilroy on board as creator and producer I am optimistic about this show. Series Premiere on 9/21.

Events:

Taylor Hawkins Tribute Concerts 

After the unexpected death of Taylor Hawkins in March, his bandmates in Foo Fighters have announced some tributes concerts to him, taking place at Wembley Stadium in London, UK on 9/3/2022 and at KIA Forum in Los Angeles, CA on 9/27/22. If, like me, you can’t make it to either city, it will be streamed on Paramount+, MTV’s YouTube channel, and Pluto TV.

Fake Holidays:

National Cinema Day

On September 3, participating movie theaters all over the country are having all movies, all day in all formats (including IMAX) only $3. This is a holiday everyone can celebrate!

#stuff i'm looking forward to #clerks iii #kevin smith #moonage daydream #brett morgen #David Bowie #pearl #ti west #blonde #andrew dominik #julian lennon #Ringo Starr #yeah yeah yeahs #the pixies #andor #star wars #Taylor Hawkins #tribute concert #Foo Fighters #national cinema day #film geek #music nerd #tv

[ruminativerabbi]

The Ethics of Law

The question of how sound the reasoning was that the Supreme Court brought to bear in 1973 when deciding in Roe v. Wade  that the Due Process Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment to the Constitution protects a woman’s reproductive autonomy is for people far more trained in American law than myself to answer. Nor do I feel particularly qualified to evaluate the constitutional legitimacy of way that right was redefined by the court in Planned Parenthood v. Casey in 1993. But I do feel qualified to offer an opinion about the question of whether or how the nation’s ever-evolving morality could or should be enshrined in law…and particularly when the innovation under consideration is something that the Founders would have found unfamiliar or even inconceivable.

Same-sex marriage is a good example. Certainly, no one in eighteenth-century America imagined marriage as other than a sanctified (or at least governmentally sanctioned) union between a man and a woman. But as of June 2021, a full 70% of Americans had come to support the idea of marriage equality for same-sex couples. I imagine that number must be even higher now. For most, I think, the question was a simple one of fairness and the 70% figure simply reflected the fact that society had evolved to the point at which a large majority of citizens felt it was morally wrong to deny gay people the right to form monogamous unions and live together as married spouses. And so, for all the Court in Obergefell v. Hodges in 2015 based its decision on the Due Process and Equal Protection clauses of the Fourteenth Amendment, the more important detail is that what brought the court to imagine the Equal Protection clauses to apply to gay couples was the reality of an ever-evolving sense of reasonableness and equity. People changed. Society changed. Opinions changed too, as did also social mores—and this, combined with the natural tendency of Americans to be inclusive and fair, created an entirely new playing field on which to consider the issue. And so the time had come for the law to change…even if it was necessary to find a peg to hang that change on in the Fourteenth Amendment.

As a lifelong student of Jewish law, I am more than familiar with the search for such pegs. The Talmud is full of rabbis grappling with the fact that Judaism as it had evolved to their day included countless practices that are unreferenced anywhere in Scripture. And much of what the Bible lays down as normative practice had also evolved: the Passover seder of rabbinic times mirrored only vaguely the way the holiday is outlined in the columns of the Torah. Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, even less so. Nor did the norms of worship that pertained in the synagogues of Roman Judea or elsewhere in the Roman Empire or in Persia—in none of those settings did the realities of synagogue life mirror even slightly the scant rules set out in Scripture to govern daily or weekly worship.

The rabbis, fully embracing a core allegiance to the notion of the Torah as authoritative, sacred, and divine in origin, nonetheless understood that a new world required new provisions grounded not in slavish imitation of the past but in innovative thinking about the future. And so they set themselves to developing methods of drawing meaning out of the text…including in ways that they must have understood would have seemed foreign and unfamiliar to the nation camped at Sinai to whom they imagined God bestowing the Torah in what even for them constituted ancient times. This process of drawing out meaning—called exegesis in English from the Greek words meaning just that, “to draw out”—became the meat and potatoes of rabbinic Scriptural analysis: the goal was to exploit the tension between fidelity to the written Torah and the need to teach lessons in sync with the ever-evolving moral bearing of the people listening to those lessons, and in that way to create a kind of religion that was both formally faithful to the past and wholly consonant with the values of the people to whom it was being pitched as a way of serving God through submission to divine law.

And this is part of what Jewish antiquity has bequeathed to the modern world, this willingness to exploit the tension between wanting to remain faithful to the past and needing to move forward into a future characterized by what people actually have come to think of as just and proper…and to exploit it in a way that matches both what the people think of as fidelity to the nation’s founders (or Founder) and what they perceive as fidelity to their own moral code.

The leaked draft majority opinion in Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health has pushed abortion, and particularly the original Supreme Court decision that struck down state laws banning it, to the front of the stage. To consider how we should move into the future, let’s start by looking back into the past.

In 1857, the Supreme Court issued its decision in Dred Scott v. Sandford. The backstory is long and complicated, but the short version is that Scott was a slave whose owner had brought him from Missouri, a slave state, to Illinois, where slavery was illegal. When his owner wished to bring him back to Missouri, Scott sued his owner on the grounds that when he entered Illinois, he became a free man and was therefore no longer a slave. He lost his case in a Missouri state court, then again in a federal court. And then he appealed to the United States Supreme Court. Looking back at the Constitution, the justices determined that the word “citizen” in the Constitution was not intended by its framers to reference people of “African descent,” which meant by implication that such people, not being citizens of the United States, were also not entitled to any of the civil rights or privileges awarded by the Constitution to American citizens. And since Scott was deemed not to be an American citizen, he was ipso facto also deemed not to be the citizen of any state in the union. As a result, the “diversity of citizenship” required by the Constitution to enable a federal court to adjudicate a case that does not involve federal law (i.e., that the litigants be citizens of two different states) did not apply and so Scott was deemed permanently subject to the laws of the State of Missouri and the decisions of its courts. And then, for good measure, the Court went on to strike down the entire Missouri Compromise of 1820 that brought Maine into the Union as a free state and Missouri as a slave state, but which prohibited slavery on most of the territory of the 1803 Louisiana Purchase north of Missouri.

It did not play well. Widely derided as the Supreme Court’s worst decision ever, Chief Justice Charles Hughes (who served from 1930 to 1941), referred to the decision as “the Court’s greatest self-inflicted wound.” Another historian, David Konig, referred to the decision as “unquestionably, our court’s worst decision ever.” And yet it certainly was true that the Founders did not consider Black slaves to be their co-citizens. And while it is true that not every Founder owned slaves, the roster of slave owners is remarkable and includes George Washington, Benjamin Franklin, Thomas Jefferson, John Jay, Patrick Henry, and James Madison. There is certainly something to be said for the argument that at least many, possibly even most, of the nation’s Founders would have been astounded by the thought that Black people should have the vote or be counted in the national census as more than three-fifths of a “real” person. All that is true. But which of us would imagine that those details can be rationally martialed in defense of taking a freed slave like Dred Scott and forcing him back into servitude merely because his former owner wished to drag him back to a slave state?

That is what I mean about an ever-evolving ethic forming the basis for new laws hung on a Constitutional peg just as the rabbis hung their innovative laws on Scriptural ones. Endorsing reproductive rights for women is certainly a break with our past. (Abortion was forbidden by law in all thirteen colonies.) But expecting the Supreme Court, in effect, to effect that change is not a reasonable expectation: it is the job of the Congress, not the Court, to legislate. The matter of abortion—and reproductive rights in general—is an example of an issue rooted in our ever-evolving American ethic that constitutes a serious break with the norms and mores of the past. But evolution is possible! The most recent survey—the Pew Research Center Study of “America’s Abortion Quandary” released just last week (click here)—says that a full 71% of Americans believe abortion should be legal at least some of the time. The solution to the larger issue, therefore, is for Americans to elect officials to the Congress whose views are consonant with their own, and for those legislators to enact laws the mirror the will of the people to be governed according to their evolved moral compass. If the people speak loudly and clearly enough, the jurists will find an appropriate peg upon which to hang the new law.

#abortion #roe v. wade

[sunshine-tattoo]

Me: this is the third year in a row I'm celebrating Rosh Hashanah completely alone

My cats: you're not alone. you have us.

Me: True. But you can't exactly recite Kiddush over the wine.

Cats: kittish. Also there will be fish.

#rosh hashanah #Rosh Hashanah 2021 #jewish humor

[ftmjerryseinfeld]

SHANA TOVA!!!! ❤️💛🍎🍯

#challah w date and apple filling 😌😌😌 #jumblr #jewblr #rosh hashanah #shana tova #challah #chaim original #baking #rosh hashanah 2021 #high holidays