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gregor-samsung · 7 months

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" Come l'Olp, il Hamas si compone di svariati gruppi e correnti. La sua dirigenza, per esempio, è divisa tra i cosiddetti "interni", ossia i rappresentanti dell'organizzazione all'interno dei territori occupati, e gli "esterni", ossia i dirigenti in esilio, per esempio a Damasco. Gli esterni controllano la maggior parte dei fondi esteri del movimento, ossia i finanziamenti che provengono dai regimi simpatizzanti dell'area, e, di fatto, hanno in mano le leve dell'apparato organizzativo. Gli interni, invece, hanno il difficile compito di gestire quotidianamente la vita politica ed economica dei loro sostenitori e parare i colpi dei rivali politici. È interessante notare che alcuni osservatori sostengono che questa divisione del lavoro rende gli interni più pragmatici, e che un numero pressoché uguale di altri osservatori sostiene esattamente il contrario. C'è poi la divisione tra il Hamas di Gaza e quello della Cisgiordania. Secondo un certo numero di commentatori, poiché gli islamici su posizioni radicali furono oggetto di repressione all'epoca in cui l'Egitto controllava Gaza, i militanti del Hamas di Gaza sono sempre stati maggiormente inclini alla segretezza, alla disciplina organizzativa e alle trame cospirative rispetto ai militanti della Cisgiordania, dove non s'è registrata una repressione del genere all'epoca dell'amministrazione giordana. Il Hamas della striscia di Gaza s'è inoltre fatto una reputazione di maggiore inflessibilità ideologica e di zelo puritano rispetto al Hamas di Cisgiordania, dove occorre fare i conti con una cultura più laica che al Sud (in Cisgiordania, studentesse del Hamas reclutano per l'organizzazione, e qualcuno ha riferito che, per promuovere la causa, lascerebbero addirittura scoperto qualche centimetro di gamba). Allo stato, gli esiti politici concreti di queste tensioni interne sono piuttosto prevedibili: movimenti come l'Olp e il Hamas, che premiano l'inclusione e sono poco propensi, o incapaci, a far rispettare la disciplina "di partito" sul piano tattico e strategico, finiscono per essere alla mercé dei loro militanti più intransigenti. Paradossalmente […] potrebbe essere stata proprio questa intransigenza a tenere aperti gli spiragli della creazione di uno Stato palestinese effettivo a fianco di Israele. "

James L. Gelvin, Il conflitto israelo-palestinese. Cent'anni di guerra, traduzione di Piero Arlorio, Einaudi (collana Piccola Biblioteca Einaudi n° 357), 2007¹; pp. 295-296.

[Edizione originale: The Israel-Palestine Conflict, Cambridge University Press, 2005]

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michelle-is-writing · 2 months

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Wedding Mornings, Spencer Reid

Word Count: 2.2k~

As a child, I always wondered if I would ever find the right person for me. Having no luck to find such a person as a teenager, I ended up wondering if I would even find a husband, better yet, my soul mate. In years to come, I would start to believe that I would be alone forever.

However, once I moved to Washington DC and found a job at the Melvin Gelvin library, I soon befriended a man that visited there a lot. I had seen him in the research section before, but he never came up to my desk for help. I thought he was cute, in all honesty, but I didn't want to come off as too confident and go up to him to see if he needed help when I never did that with anyone else in the library.

So, the one day he did come up to me and ask me where to find a book I had seen him take out many times, I smiled and nodded before helping him find the book. He was nervous asking me his question, and I couldn't help but be a little nervous as well. Although, once we found the encyclopedia for Philosophy, he introduced himself as Spencer Reid, and I couldn't help but rejoice as my name fell from my lips in return. Finally, I got to learn the name of the man who I had shared glances with so many times, yet, we never interacted - up until then.

After that, it felt like a free-game. Anytime Spencer came into the library, he was asking me for books that I knew very well he was aware of where they would be. In spite of this, I always helped him, and after he checked out the third book I had seen him read many times before, Spencer finally asked me out for coffee.

Unfortunately, our date kept getting postponed because of Spencer's job. At first, I thought he was backing out in regret since it had already taken him so long to ask me out in first place. However, once we did go on that date, I discovered that that wasn't even a tiny fraction as to why he kept rescheduling. As soon as I found out that Spencer held such a huge responsibility with a job that relied on him to capture mass murderers and kidnappers, I found myself in complete admiration for him. Not to mention the fact that all of the science books he had been checking out weren't for class or education - he already earned his degrees in those fields beforehand.

Now that I have a dazzling ring on my finger, I'm even happier that I was patient in waiting for Spencer to finally make it to our date. I knew how long I waited for that coffee shop date he promised - six-whole-weeks. However, I never knew how long I was waiting for a man like Spencer to make his way into my life until I found out how much I truly loved him. Through saying those three words that are often said too much, I discovered that I had waited my entire life to find Spencer, and when he proposed to me in Rossi's garden one late night, I found out that Spencer truly felt the same way.

Soon enough, the months before our wedding slowly passed until the brightest week of our lives came up, and once that started, it was like everything was going at twice the speed it should have been going. All of my bridesmaids (JJ, Emily, (f/n), and Penelope) ran around like chickens with their heads cut off while Spencer's groomsmen (Derek, Aaron, and Rossi) did the same. Even during the morning of my wedding, everyone was running around to get things done while I just stayed in my bride's quarter's kitchen and did the same thing I did every other morning.

"I'm just saying," Penelope starts, watching as I pour freshly made coffee into a mug for Spencer. "It's bad luck for a groom to see the bride before the wedding!" She reminds me, causing me to smile.

"I thought that was only if the bride was wearing her dress," I point out, adding more sugar than actual coffee into the mug. "And, besides," I add, giving the coffee one last stir before placing the spoon down on the counter. I have no idea how Spencer can drink this stuff with nearly half of the mug filled with sugar.

Turning toward Penelope with the steaming mug in hand, my eyes quickly catch onto the expertly made bouquet in her hands, every flower I wanted beautifully bundled together with a gorgeous (f/c) bow wrapped around the stems. How is she so good at any creative thing she does?

"I've made Spencer his coffee every morning since our first day living together, Pen," I tell her, smiling as I think about the fond memory. Sometimes he'll make me a cup too if I haven't done so myself. "I don't want to miss a day because of some old, wise tale that's probably been taken out of its original context," I add, slightly smirking as I know that's the truth. Once the words leave my mouth, Penelope can't resist the smile the makes it's way onto her lips as she shakes her head.

"Well, I don't think anything I say is going to stop you," She notes, earning a head nod back from me. She's right. Nothing is going to make me halt in my actions of bringing Spencer his coffee - not even a silly little fairytale.

Heading out of the hotel room in only my silk pajamas that match the rest of the girls' clothes, I find myself walking across the hall with my heart pounding in my chest. It's strange to just now realize that today is the official start of my forever. It's a fantastic feeling, but at the same time, it's giving me a high that I feel like I can't come down from. It's a dangerous, yet blissful thing.

Just as I round the corner to walk to the other end of the hall, my eyes quickly catch onto a familiar figure leaving his hotel room. There's no way I could ever forget those brunet curls or the slender body of the man I love. Although, what is a bit odd is that he's currently carrying a coffee mug of his own. I guess he didn't think that I'd stick to what we've always done.

"Good morning, handsome," I greet Spencer, causing him to lightly jump before turning around and seeing me. Once his eyes land on my pajama covered figure, he visibly calms down with a small sigh and smile.

"I wanted to go and see you, but the guys wouldn't let me. So, I had to sneak out," Spencer explains with a shake of his head, making me laugh. Just as I do that, Spencer's whole demeanor changes as if he's softening up. His tense shoulders loosen while his posture relaxes a bit, another sigh leaving his slightly smiling lips as he does so. He looks calmer than any other time I can remember.

"You... you look amazing," he compliments me, causing me to blush with a wide smile. My hair is an absolute mess right now, a majority of it up in a clip as I haven't brushed it yet. Not to mention my face doesn't even have a touch of makeup on it and I'm still in pajamas - there's nothing about me that says "amazing" right now. I don't know how Spencer can say such things.

"Thank you, baby," I tell him, taking a few steps forward before planting a kiss to his cheek. Despite today being the day of our wedding, Spencer's cheeks turn to light pink in response to my lips touching them as they always do, and I can't help but smile as I see the rose color take over his skin. Despite what some people say, I truly believe there's a good chance it will always be this way.

"I made you coffee for this morning," I tell him, gesturing to the steaming mug in my hand. "But I didn't know you made your own already," I further add, watching as the corner of Spencer's lip quirks up. Is he surprised that I would do this?

"Actually," he starts, holding the cup out to me. "I made this for you - that's why I was heading out of the room so I could go and give it to you," Spencer explains, trading mugs with me as a bright smile takes over his face. "I'm glad that we both had the same idea."

Smiling back, I nod before taking a sip from the cup of coffee Spencer made me, Spencer following in suit with the cup that I made him. We both let out a small, satisfied groan as the taste of coffee reaches our lips.

"You always manage to make my coffee perfect," Spencer points out, making my heart clench. He's so adorable, and he doesn't even realize it.

"And I'll never forget it, love, not for a long time," I tell him, leaning closer to kiss his cheek. However, before I can do so, Spencer takes the chance to wrap his free arm around me and pull me against him. Now satisfied, Spencer gives off a small hum before leaning down and pressing his lips to mine. In his arms, I feel the happiest I've felt this morning, and with the events of today being added in, I am more than ecstatic right now. Making coffee for Spencer every morning for the rest of my life is only a small fraction of what our marriage is going to be, and I can't help but look forward to doing it.

"I'm so glad we're doing this," Spencer confesses, pulling away from my lips to rest his nose against mine. Smiling, I gently sigh as I feel his hand on my waist sliding underneath my pajama top and onto my skin. His touch is so gentle that I could almost mistake it for a cloud touching me. "I've waited so long for this."

"I wish we would've done it sooner," I admit, nuzzling the side of my face into Spencer's soft sleep shirt. "Then I could've been Mrs. Reid for a long time now," I point out, turning my eyes up to the smiling man holding me.

"I do like the sound of that," Spencer murmurs, smirking as he leans farther down to press his lips to my neck. "Misses Reid," He slowly says my new title, each syllable rolling off his tongue smoothly. Even before we were engaged, he would jokingly call me that, but now that I'm actually Mrs. Reid, my love for the name has only grown.

With that, Spencer and I connect our lips in another sweet kiss while holding each other close. In his arms, I feel the warmest and happiest I have ever been. Nothing could ruin this moment between us. It's simply too perfect.

"Stop making out in the hallway! You'll be doing enough of that later!" A stern voice interrupts us, causing Spencer and me to look over to the hotel room door he stepped out of a few seconds ago. Hanging out of the empty doorway is Derek who's smirking with an accusing eyebrow. "Isn't it bad luck to see the bride before the ceremony?"

"Actually, Derek, it's only bad luck if-" Spencer argues Derek just as another voice cuts in.

"What are you two doing?!" A shout sounds throughout the hall, the tone full of Penelope Garcia's typical sassiness. Immediately, both of our heads shoot toward the end of the hall where the spunky blonde stomps toward us. "What have you two been doing?!"

"Derek, help us," I beg, turning my head back to Spencer's best man. Instead of doing what I actually asked, Derek laughs and shakes his head while holding his hands up.

"Oh no," he starts, "I'm not suffering at the hands of the woman behind you."

"Yeah," Penelope states, matter-of-factly. "I would be scared too if I were you, missy," just as soon as the words leave her lips, Penelope puts her hand on my arm and practically drags me out of Spencer's arms while Derek does the same to Spencer, both mindful of the mugs in our hands.

"You can see your beautiful bride in a couple of hours," Derek assures my soon-to-be-husband while he gives me one last kiss. As soon as his lips touch mine, I realize this is the last kiss before the one kiss we get to share that marks our forever with each other. Plus, I have no doubt that our friends will be cheering and teasing us as we do so - just like Derek and Penelope do right now. Just at the single thought, I can hardly wait.

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #dr spencer reid #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #criminal minds smut #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagines #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds oneshot #Spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n

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melvinpsychoteddy · 9 days

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another gelvin moodboard for me ^^

all screenshots are from tetocu s3 e1

dm me if credits are needed!

#moodboard #george x melvin #melvin x george #george beard #melvin sneedly #captain underpants #science moodboard #tie stim

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ludcake · 7 months

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hey guys. just popping in to remind everyone that in 1917 there was an agreement between the Arab entities that rose up against the Ottoman Empire, led by the Hashemite dynasty, and the World Zionist Organization to establish a single, federal and constitutional state on the Levant that would protect and safeguard Christian, Jewish and Muslim populations at Versailles.

And then the imperial powers of France and the United Kingdom tore up the Levant piece by piece in Sykes-Picot, turned them into colonies with the white man's guilt excuse of being "mandates to civilise those lands", settled foreign populations there, enacted harsh policies of restricting movement, and when they rose up, handed it over to the UN to solve it with the threat that they'd completely pull out all presence there without a resolution if it wasn't resolved before a strict deadline.

Just some thoughts to reflect on <3

(Source is James Gelvin's The Israel-Palestine Conflict, if you're curious)

#.txt #palestine

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dib-thing-wannabe · 3 months

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Omg we can’t take this, Melvin do something take control of the situation

"How?-"

"You wanna know what I do with things I find pretty?.."

"W-what do you do?-"

*Picks Melvin up* "Take them all for myself~!"

"AAH-"

#captain underpants #chemical overdose! captain underpants au #george beard #co! captain underpants au #co! george #melvin sneedly #co! melvin #Charred Ink #george x melvin #melvin x george #gelvin

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odtherat · 4 months

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...

Gelvin?

Pls?

👁️👁️

Boom. Gelvin

#randumb asks #ask answered #george beard #melvin sneedly #george x melvin #melvin x george #gelvin

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bbaebii · 2 years

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kelvin miranda and angel guardian.

#kelvin miranda #angel guardian #gelvin #GMA Network #celebs #Filipino artists #pinoy #ship #*mine #*gifs #*gelvin #*celebs #*2022

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fatehbaz · 1 year

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[T]he late 19th century [...] was a golden age of media frenzies [...]. The fantasy [...] spread quickly throughout European and American presses. [...] The dream of creating a Saharan Sea still has clickbait value today. [...] Ridiculous schemes [...] entrenching warped understandings of the desert as a vacant land awaiting improvement.

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Captain François Roudaire (1836-1885) was convinced that a large inland sea could be created in the Sahara Desert across southeastern Algeria and southern Tunisia. The French military surveyor received funding from public and private sources in the 1870s to carry out feasibility studies on that region’s chotts or shebkas, seasonal salt lakes that are sometimes found below sea level. The centerpiece of his proposal was a long canal from Tunisia’s coast on the Gulf of Gabes to low-lying chotts in the interior. Once the Mediterranean began to flow into the desert, Roudaire believed, the Saharan climate would become cooler and the rate of precipitation in the region would increase. His announcement in the widely-read Parisian periodical Revue des deux Mondes on May 15, 1874 that French engineers could build “une mer intérieure en Algérie” stirred up the imaginations of the capital’s political, social, and scientific elite. Ferdinand de Lesseps, whose success in the Suez Canal project led him to seek similarly grandiose opportunities to remake the world (e.g. in Panama), soon joined the project and helped with funding.

Roudaire’s most prominent critic was Ernest Cosson, a senior member of the Société botanique de France and an expert on North African botany. Cosson and many of his colleagues in metropolitan scientific associations rejected the plan for several reasons: its clearly negative consequences of an infusion of salt water for native flora (particularly the date trees on which Saharan oasis agriculture depended); the engineering nightmare posed by a canal up to 150 miles in length; the highly questionable nature of Roudaire’s claims about climatic change; and the social unrest that would have followed the substantial expropriation of native land. The scientific community’s dismissal of the scheme, the state’s loss of interest when the difficulty of the project became clear, and the deaths of Roudaire in 1885 and de Lesseps in 1894 ended the Saharan Sea project.

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However, the Saharan Sea dream has lived on. In fiction, it first appeared in British journalist Louis Tracy’s futuristic An American Emperor: The Story of the Fourth Empire of France (serialized in Pearson’s Weekly, 1896-97) [...]. Jules Verne’s L’Invasion de la mer (1905) describes a future conflict between colonizers attempting to build the sea and native Saharans who opposed the European effort. [...]

Several historians have already ably examined the scheme as it relates to the history of European imperialism in Africa and the history of European understandings of desertification and geo-engineering [...]. What I find illuminating in the Roudaire affair is the important role of newspapers and journals. The power of popular media to drive scientific inquiry has become quite clear [...].

“The Age of Steam and Print,” as James Gelvin and Nile Green have dubbed the late 19th century, was a golden age of media frenzies and of international searches for the filler material that we sometimes call clickbait today. The newly cheap cost of printing in the 19th century, the revolutions in transportation and communication technology that enabled interesting stories to spread across national borders and oceans, and the competitive business environment of journalism, created strong incentives for editors and writers to prioritize quantity over quality, and to put fascination ahead of verification. The fantasy that Roudaire started in the Revue des deux Mondes, a popular avenue around the gatekeepers who controlled the publications of the traditional scientific societies, spread quickly throughout the European and American presses. Editors happily built the canals for Roudaire’s Saharan Sea dream to invade their empty column inches. “As it is today,” Hocine Bendjoudi and René Létolle wrote about the Roudaire episode, "journalists lacking copy periodically revived the affair in the opinion press."

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The dream of creating a Saharan Sea still has clickbait value today. Numerous videos on Y/outube, and articles in Co/nde Nast Traveler, Big Think, and Gi/zmodo under its ’Secret History’ tag, rehash previous work on the Roudaire scheme and its intellectual successors. The basis of European conceptions of the central Sahara changed from ignorance to fascination in the era of Roudaire, Philip Lehmann argues, and there it remains today. In our modern media environment, ridiculous schemes have lives of their own, periodically entertaining audiences for years and entrenching warped understandings of the desert as a vacant land awaiting improvement.

---

Text by: Jackson R. Perry. “Filling The Empty Space: The Saharan Sea Project and the Modern Media Age.” Published at Georgetown Environmental History blog. 9 January 2020. [Bold emphasis, some paragraph breaks/contractions, and italicized first heading added by me.]

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lung-worm2023 · 2 months

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Tetocu ship analysis. PT1 Melvarold.

Im Doing this First because I love it dearly and I can’t wait to either destroy this ship for you or convince you to ship this. Idk I haven’t wrote it yet.

They may not like eachother much canonically but they definitely have their moments.

Now you could say. “Oh! Harold was just being nice” “Well, They WERE fighting before that.” “But, Melvin was next to Harold.” And yeah those are good points.

But the scene in hackaween when Harold gives Melvin his cape. Best scene for melvarold shippers,

And with the “Melvin was next to Harold.” Argument. Melvin isn’t normally a person who likes touch. And sure he was scared. But it’s not like him to hug someone instead of backing away.

HOWEVER.

I feel Harold and Melvin still have as much as a rivalry as George and Melvin do (I’ll cover Gelvin next, don’t worry).

So I think it’s unlikely to happen but if they both become closer then maybe.

#captain underpants #tetocu #the epic tales of captain underpants #melvarold #melvin x harold #harold x melvin #I’m doing melvarold to show I’m not gonna pick favourites and say ‘OH THEYLL GET TOGETHER BECAUSE I SAY SO!’ bullshit

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queen-of-the-weenies · 10 months

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The Bandit Queen's Bride: The Marketplace (Part 1)

Part 2 coming soon, I promise

~~~

“Tch… I hate the weather here. The buildings in town block the wind from the bay, so it’ll just smell like sweaty fish.”

“Speak for yourself, Merr. The heat makes women swoon, and I quite like it. Easier to woo 'em if they're already weak in the knees.”

“Are you sure it’s not the vile stink of your unwashed ass that makes ‘em swoon?”

“Shut up!”

Jin didn’t bother resisting the urge to roll her eyes. The lads were going to bicker the whole way into town, she could feel it. Already Gelvin and Merr had stopped walking to continue arguing about whose smell was worse. Jin thought they both smelled equally terrible… Then again, chances are that she didn’t smell much better. It’d been a couple weeks since her last proper bath--wiping her body down with damp rags could only do so much.

“M’queen, should we… I’unno, stop them, or something?”

The Bandit Queen glanced sideways at tiny little Miski, then spun on her heel mid-step to begin walking backwards, allowing her to focus on the arguing men. They seemed oblivious to being left behind by the others. She considered leaving them there aside the road… But then she’d never hear the end of it from Gallum, and her head already ached too much today to deal with the grumpy old man scolding her like a child. Plus Miski was giving her that doe-eyed, pleading look… The one she hated… The one that always worked.

With a heavy, perhaps exaggerated sigh, Jin changed the direction of her steps, heading back down the road. The argument had already shifted away from arguing about body odor; they had started fighting over who’d been with the most women. Unable to resist, the queen threw her arm around Merr’s shoulders, nearly knocking the scrawny man over.

“You louts ain’t ever gonna’ top the number of women I’ve had. No point in comparin’ numbers if you’re always out of first place. Now stop laggin’ behind or I’ll string you both to Tore’s saddle and send him running.”

Both men had the sense to look contrite. Merr grumbled a halfhearted “Yes m’queen,” then he stumbled away after being pushed toward Miski. Gelvin needed no such shoving--not that she could have moved him if she tried. Where Merr was lanky and close to her own height, Gelvin was practically a mountain of a man. She could shove her whole weight against him, and he might not even notice. Still, the Bandit Queen had no need for force. He was already following Merr down the road.

They made it to town without further delay. The lads might have begun to argue again, but Miski was an expert at distraction. Every time they got heated, she chirped about how excited she was to be surrounded by strangers again, her fingers itching to slip into new pockets and relieve them of their burdensome gold. She was especially adept at distracting Merr, using his particular affection for her to great effect. By the time they reached the port town, Merr had already agreed to obtain a pretty ring and some candies for Miski.

Jin lagged behind a bit once citizens began filling the space around them. The others already knew the plan: Miski would look around, taking note of any soldiers and possible targets; Gelvin would investigate temporary job prospects on the dock; and Merr would poke around the town inns, gathering any interesting gossip that might be useful. As for the Bandit Queen… She headed right to the market square to meet up with Gallum.

The sweltering heat was at its worst in the market. Bodies crowded together in the bright summer sun, sweat and spices and fish and salty ocean air mingled together with the ceaseless din of merchants shouting their wares while customers chattered and bargained. Gallum was glad for the meager relief of shade cast by his stall canopy. He was so old that even sitting hurt his joints, and all he wanted to do was watch life pass him by. A nice, cool glass of cider to wet his weathered lips wouldn’t hurt…

He spotted Jin long before she was close enough to reach him. She cut too imposing a figure to be hidden amidst the common rabble. Her long strides were cut short by the press of bodies, leaving her visibly irritated by the time she plopped down to sit beside him on the threadbare cushion. Gallum offered her half of a tiny red apple, but she pushed it back toward him.

“Nah, you eat it. S’got your gross mouth all over it already, I bet.”

With a chuckle, he took a bite, then used the apple-bearing hand to gesture at the crowd.

“Busy mornin’. Already sold out all them apples we appropriated, and I got a gentleman comin’ back later to buy that necklace Mitski lifted from that farmer’s wife last week.”

Jin eyed him skeptically as he spoke. He could pinpoint the exact second that her natural cynicism gave way to the more rational acknowledgement that he would never lie to her. Gallum was her oldest supporter, perhaps her oldest friend… Besides, the empty stall shelf was proof enough that everything had been pawned off. He reached under the cushion to withdrawn a small pouch, handing it to the Bandit Queen for inspection. The pouch was stuffed with gold bits, far more than the apples naturally should have been worth. Jin’s smile was sly as she counted a few pieces out of the pouch.

“You never disappoint, Gallum. These dullards’ll never know how much they overpaid.”

She tucked the pouch beneath the cushion again, keeping six bits in her hand.

“I’ll buy ya’ some cider. Stay here and relax. Gelvin’ll come by once he’s done.”

Gallum doubted he’d see the giant lad before the end of the day. Even if he finished his task quick, he’d likely linger at the docks to gamble with sailors. Jin reluctantly stood and stepped out of the shade… Then she froze to the spot. His attention snapped to the queen, then followed her line of sight across the market. From his spot on the ground, he couldn’t see what she saw… But he understood her reaction when she breathed “Blessed fuckin’ stars,” before making her way to the target, face flushed a deep crimson. The Bandit Queen has spotted a pretty girl, and Gallum wouldn’t be seeing her until tomorrow morning.

#anna's story emporium #short story #writing #The Bandit Queen's Bride

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