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#put him in charge of a politically and religiously charged army! it will go great
warlordfelwinter · 2 years
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feeling normal about that tevinter mage
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World War Z was published in 2006, but takes place in 2009 at the earliest.  Late in the book, astronaut Terry Knox states that the International Space Station took over 10 years to complete; it started construction in November 1998, and Chief of Staff Karl Rove Grover Carlson says that the Republican party barely eked back into power after a disastrous 2-termer who started a “brush fire war” in the Middle East (George W. Bush).  He mentions an election year, but he doesn’t specify if it was the new president’s first or second term, so it’s either set right after 2008 or 2012.  This was written before the Nintendo Wii was announced, but one chapter mentions that people brought their GameCubes with them as they fled their homes in search of safety in the frozen Canadian wilderness.  This same chapter also mentions that they didn’t know how to pick survival gear; a park ranger finds a SpongeBob SquarePants sleeping bag frozen in the mud because its owner didn’t know the difference between a child’s indoor sleeping bag for slumber parties and a real insulated survival bag for camping.
The new president is never named, he’s just told be be pro-big business and anti-regulation, pushing a placebo zombie vaccine through the FDA to jumpstart the economy.  When shit hits the fan, he is “sedated” and his vice president takes power; we’re never told what happened to the president, whether he was bitten or had a stroke, just that he was “sedated.”  His Vice President is directly implied to be Colin Powell; he’s former military with family in Jamaica and black.  He appoints Howard Dean to be his vice president to form a bipartisan coalition; he is never referred to by name, but it is clearly supposed to be Howard Dean.  He was a rising star in the Democratic party from Vermont whose wife is a doctor and whose career imploded after he had a passionate outburst.  In 2004, Howard Dean gave a speech where he started passinately screaming about how he was gonna start sweeping state primaries and ride a wave into the White House, punctuating his point by going “HHEEUEAHHGH!!”  This was political suicide in 2004, and he was laughed out of the race.  In the book, he is referred to only as “the Whacko” because of this.  It is implied that he was Powell’s second choice for VP, his first being Barack Obama; the Whacko says that the Democrats wanted somebody else, somebody of the same skin color as the president, but that the country wasn’t ready for that.  In 2004, Obama was a candidate for senate in Illinois, so popular and so well spoken that he gave a speech at the Democratic National Convention before he even won his seat; then and there, pundits already had him pegged as the first black president, they could see the writing on the walls.  The Whacko becomes president when Powell dies of stress, but he is consistently referred to only as the wartime Vice President, out of respect for his boss.
Also, the Attorney General is implied to be Rudy Giuliani; all that is said about him was that he was the mayor of New York and once tried to give himself emergency powers to stay in office after his term.  Giuliani did exactly that after 9/11.
Other real life figures mentioned in the book
Fidel Castro; a ton of Cuban Americans flee the continent and return to the island during the zombie war, and he jumpstarts the economy by putting them to work as cheap laborers and slowly integrating them back into Cuban society.  He rehabilitates his image by stepping down as dictator and democratizing the country, voting himself out of office before the “nortecubanos” could hang him for decades of war crimes.
Nelson Mendela, referred to by his birth name Rolihlahla, the father of modern South Africa, he personally invites Paul Redekker, a former apartheid era political analyst, to solve the zombie problem; in the 80s, Redekker created a plan for the white minority government in case the black majority ever rose up against them.  In real life, Mandela lowered the temperature when he was elected president, saying that revenge against the apartheid government would do more harm than good.  In the story, Mandela uses this as justification to reuse the apartheid era plan to handle the zombie outbreak instead.  Redekker is so overcome by his compassion and forgiveness that he has a mental episode and dissociates, believing himself to be a black South African.
Kim Jong-il, the dictator of North Korea, he withdraws all troops from the DMZ and shuts the entire country down.  After months of radio silence, it is revealed that the entire country’s population has vanished; all satellite imagery shows a desolate wasteland, no zombies, but no humans either. He presumably moved everyone into subterranean bunker systems where he not only control their lives as on the surface, but now their access to food, water, and air.  He presumably became the god emperor he always wanted to be; either that, or the entire tunnel complex has been overrun, turning every man woman and child in North Korea into zombies.  The South Korean government refuses to send a expedition into the North to figure out what happened, lest they open up one of the tunnels and unleash millions of zombies onto the surface.
Martin Scorsese, mentioned in passing only as “Marty,” a friend of world famous film director Roy Elliot, who himself is a thinly veiled pastiche of Steven Spielberg.  Interestingly enough, the audio book features Martin Scorsese doing the voice of the conartist who created the placebo vaccine
One chapter has a ton of vapid celebrities hole together in a fortified mansion on Long Island, and takes great care to show each of them getting torn apart not by zombies but by regular people who storm the facility because they were stupid enough to broadcast their location on reality television.  A redneck with a “Get’er Done” hat (Larry the Cable Guy) and some bald guy with diamond earrings (Howie Mandel) blow themselves up with a grenade.  Rival political commentators, an annoying guy who talks about feminization of western society and a leathery blonde (Bill Maher and Ann Coulter) have end-of-the-world viking sex as the facility burns to the ground.  A dumb starlet (Paris Hilton) is killed by one of her handlers and her little rat dog escapes on foot.  A radio shock jock (Howard Stern) actually survives the war and restarts his show.
Michael Stipe of REM joins the army to fight the zombies
Another war veteran mentions how his brother used to have a bunch of Mel Brooks’ old comedy skits on vinyl record, and how he and his squad acted out the “Boy meets Girl” puppet skit with some human skulls.  Mel Brooks is author and narrator Max Brooks’ father.
Queen Elizabeth II, refuses to evacuate England when the island is overrun by zombies.  She intends to remain in Buckingham Palace “for the duration,” mirroring the fact that her parents refused to evacuate to Canada during World War II.
Vladimir Putin declares himself Tsar of the Holy Russian Empire, an ultra-orthodox religious state that has armed priests execute political dissidents under the guise of mercy killing people who have been bitten by zombies.
Yang Liwei, the first “taikonaut” (Chinese astronaut) has a space station named after him
While the main conflict is about government responses to the zombie pandemic, we see glimpses of a greater war torn planet.
A major plot line involves a Chinese Civil War which sees the entire communist politburo nuked out of existence by a rebel sub commander, as well as an attempted “scorched space policy” where the government planned to blow up their space station with scuttling charges to cause a cascade of space debris to encircle the Earth and prevent any other countries from launching missions in the future (this is known as Kessler Syndrome in real life, and was featured as the inciting incident of the 2013 movie Gravity).  The People’s Republic becomes the United Federation.
Iran and Pakistan destroy each other in nuclear war; everyone thought it would be India and Pakistan, but they had very close diplomatic infrastructure in place to prevent such a catastrophe; Pakistan helped Iran build a nuclear arsenal, but as millions of refugees fled from India through Pakistan to the east, Iran had to blow up some Pakistani bridges to stem the flow of zombies, which led to a border war and eventually total nuclear retaliation.
Floridians flee to Cuba, Wisconsinites flee to Canada, the federal government flees to Hawaii.  Everything east of the Rockies is abandoned and ruled by warlords until the government sorts itself out and mounts an expedition to clear the continent of zombies by literally marching an unbroken line of soldiers stretching from Canada to Mexico across the wasteland to the Atlantic.
Israel withdraws from Gaza and the West Bank to become super isolationist, building a wall around the entire country to stop the zombies getting in (they were the first country to respond to the pandemic, and the most successful), but the religious right rebels against the secular left in a civil war that sees Jerusalem ceded to a unified Palestine.
It is an amazing, multifaceted story with so much going on that nobody recognizes.  It was written as a response to the end of the Cold War and the start of the War on Terror.  It’s about a geopolitical shift, a change in the status quo, a disaster from which the world never recovers; America before 9/11 was a very different place than American after 9/11.  Iraq and Afghanistan changed everything, and we’re still feeling their effects to this day; the story uses the zombie apocalypse as the next big international disaster the world must adapt to.  World War Z is World War III with zombies, and I think it would do a lot better if it were published today, now that we’ve had several decades to respond to the fall of the Soviet Union and the endless wars in the Middle East and a global pandemic.
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Magnificent Scoundrels- On the Great Journey
Another faction intro, this time from Halo.  It should probably be noted that, obviously, I do not own Halo.
A note on timelines: This takes place in 2552, in between Halo 1 and 2.  This is after the destruction of Instillation 04, and before Regret’s invasion of Earth.  
Halo Galaxy
Earth, Capital World of the UNSC
The room was much like any typical human conference room throughout almost any galaxy.  Plain.  Utilitarian.  Very, very grey.  The table, too, was a sleek grey, matching the walls, and the chairs strung around it were typical of almost any high-class office building.  Black, comfortable enough, and with wheels.  Many an alien had and still has noted with some amusement the human fascination for chairs with wheels on them.  Even the most hardened of generals and politicians always seemed to choose them over regular chairs.  Most curious.  But none of the aliens of this galaxy had ever noticed the subtleties of humanity.  No.  Here, there was only war between humanity and the theocratic alien empire known simply as the Covenant.  This war was the reason for the meeting in this seemingly plain conference room.
Master Chief John-117 sat silently in a chair suitably enlarged for his massive frame.  If one were not aware that there was a man beneath his heavy green armor, they might have mistaken him for a statue.  He had been sitting like this, back perfectly straight, for exactly one hour, one minute, and forty one… forty two seconds now.  He had arrived first to the meeting, as a good soldier should.  The rest of the participants trickled in between then and half an hour ago.  
He was currently playing a game in his head, one that he had come up with a long time ago.  The nature of this game was simple: who is everyone at the meeting?  What, or whom, do they represent?  What do they want?  For despite the fact that Master Chief had not moved in one hour, two minutes, and ten seconds, his mind was always alert.  Always searching for threats.  
The man at the head of the table was the easiest to know.  An old face, wrinkled but still incredibly sharp, coupled with a crisp, white dress uniform and rows upon rows of medals made him a soldier.  If one was more familiar with the current state of the UEG and UNSC, one would also instantly put a name with the face.  Fleet Admiral Lord Terrance Hood, chief of naval operations and the de facto leader of the war effort, and thus humanity as a whole.  John liked Lord Hood.  Helpful.  Practical.  A soldier through and through.  
The next was another old face, wearing the white uniform of an admiral.  However, this woman did not have the reassuring eyes of Lord Hood.  These eyes were old, cold, hard, and incredibly calculating.  While Hood might have been in charge, Admiral Margaret Parangosky was probably the most dangerous person in the room.  She was the head of ONI, the Office of Naval Intelligence.  Master manipulator, master spy.  She probably had enough information to destroy anyone else in the room.  Cold, calculating, and ruthless, she was nevertheless a curt and professional leader.  
The next, and the last one the Chief recognized, was another older woman.  Greying hair framed a wrinkled face and pure blue eyes, still glowing with intelligence.  Doctor Catherine Halsey, creator of the Spartan-II’s.  Creator of Cortana.  Scientist extraordinaire.  The only thing even close to a mother figure he ever had.  Yes, she was the one who kidnapped him from an unknown family and turned him into a living weapon… but she was still a mother figure, in a way.  Master Chief suspected he had Stockholm syndrome.  It didn’t really concern him.  It was just one more problem on a list of many.  Anxiety, depression, sociopathy, paranoia, violent PTSD.  He had it all.  He ignored it.  The only thing that mattered was the mission.  
All of the other members of the meeting could fit into three groups: the soldiers, the politicians, and the spies.  
The soldiers were the easiest to understand.  Either Army or Navy, they were no nonsense (for the most part) and practical.  Soldiers.  People he understood.  They had a duty, and they did it.  
Spies were, as they probably should be, the hardest to understand.  They were all from ONI, and were, by far, the least trustworthy in the room.  Hated and feared, they were the ones who oversaw much of the UNSC’s secret projects.  It was their agents who had kidnapped him as a baby for the Spartan program.  Lord Hood didn’t trust them.  Dr. Halsey didn’t trust them.  Master Chief didn’t trust them either.  Too concerned with power plays and secrets.  It was in their nature to be untrustworthy, just as it was in Master Chief’s nature to be blunt.  
The third group were the politicians.  While they might normally be the most problem faction, these were extraordinary times.  The United Earth Governments had no power.  The United Nations Space Command had taken full control under material law to repel the Covenant.  The politicians technically had no say-so, but they were still kept in the loop so as not to cause any problems.  No one wanted a rogue politician talking too much, and here Admirals Hood and Parangosky could keep an eye on them.  
None except Hood, several of the diplomats, and Parangosky were actually required.  Most, from Dr. Hasley, to the ONI spies, to the politicians were here either as precautions, in case something came up that would require their expertise, or so that they wouldn’t cause any problems.  Hood and Parangosky were crafty enough to realize that snubbing people was probably not the best idea for fostering a united war effort.  
“And now, Master Chief John-117, please present your finds,” asked Parangosky.  Oh, shit.  This was the part he had been dreading.  He absolutely despised talking to people, but this time he really didn’t have a choice.  
“Yes, ma’am.”  His gravelly voice rang clearly through the room as everyone went silent.  “I met with the group you told me to.  Their dossiers are in my report.  They seem nice enough.”  He wasn’t quite sure if he was doing this right.  He didn’t have much practice talking to other humans.  Parangosky looked at him with an annoyed expression, but Hood held up a hand to forestall any comments.  
“I know you don’t particularly like to do this, Chief.  However, we need to know where everyone in these new galaxies stand.”  The politicians and various lower ranked officers gave sycophantic nods.  
“Yes, sir.”  A holoprojector sprang to life, displaying the various symbols of different inter-galactic powers.  “Most are either peaceful inter-species coalitions or human-supremacist empires.  From what Cortana has told me, the more human-supremacist and militaristic, the more likely they are to stand with us.”  The table broke out with murmuring.  
“Now what?” asked one of the Admirals.  “Who exactly is going to help us?  Can we actually trust them?”  
“The people I’ve seen are trustworthy,” responded the Chief.  If slightly bizarre, and, on several instances, slightly insane.  “Whether or not we can trust their governments is another problem.”  Thankfully, not my problem.  
“What about their weapons?” questioned an ONI agent.  
“Everything I’ve learned about their weapons is in my report.”  Honestly, what was the point of writing reports if no one was going to read them?
“Can we get any of these weapons?” pressed the agent.  Why are ONI agents so annoying?
“While the individuals I’ve met want to keep their own weapons, at least one is willing to sell them,” replied the Chief gruffly.  He hadn’t, and wouldn’t, tell them about Drake’s gift.  They would want to get their hands all over it, disassemble it, and he’d never get it back.  It was put to much better use in his hands.  At least it was in his opinion.  Although, Drake would probably be perfectly willing to sell anything from laser weapons to WMDs if the price was right.  The ONI agent began whining again.
“All the “militaristic” powers are fighting other things!  All the peaceful ones wouldn’t want to get involved in the Covenant War, and all the other ones would probably want to screw us over.”  Like you wouldn’t do the same thing if you were in their place, Master Chief wanted to say.  Bloody ONI.  
The Chief looked appealingly over to Hood, the question evident in his eyes.  Hood gave Master Chief a nod.
“Thank you, Chief.  You can sit down now,” he said.  Thank God.  John slumped into his seat.  He would much rather take on entire platoons of Covenant soldiers instead of doing even the most miniscule of talking, especially to these types of people.  Oh, well.  Sometimes being the greatest soldier in history had its drawbacks.  
High Charity
Capital and Holy City of the Covenant
High Charity was an utterly massive, near planetoid-sized space station, and the floating capital of the alien empire known as the Covenant.  Hundreds of kilometers in diameter, and home to billions of individuals, it was the Covenant’s religious center and practical homeworld.  High Charity was larger than moons, and more impressive than most planets, including most of those ruled by the UNSC.  It was here that, just like many a government, the leaders of the Covenant sat to discuss the current situation.  
The room itself was rectangular, and looked largely like some gladiator pit made of stainless steel.  In the “stands” were the members of the High Council, the legislative body of the Covenant.  Made up of only Sangheli and San’Shyuum, the two most respected species of the Covenant, it was their job to pass laws and rule the empire as a whole.  Lower down, at the edge of the “pit”, was an elevated dias, on which were three chairs.  The true rulers of the Covenant, the Hierarchs, sat here, in magnificent gravity thrones.  They were the High Prophets of Truth, Mercy, and Regret.  The religious leaders, and, due to its nature as a theocratic empire, the political leaders of the Covenant, it was their duty to guide the various races along the Great Journey.  Now, it was their duty to guide the Covenant into these new galaxies, to the ultimate goal of ascendance.  At the present moment, it was all they could do to keep the Council in order.
“What of the trial of Thel ‘Vadam?” shouted members from the stands.  The entire room was in an uproar, yelling at each other, yelling at the Prophets, yelling at the guards, yelling at anyone that would listen.  In fact, several of them were yelling just to yell, certain that no one really cared, but determined to add their weight to the conversation.  If, of course, the orgy of disorder could actually be called a conversation.  
“Yes!  What of the trial?” cried another.  
“Nay!  The trial is of limited importance now!  What of these new places?  What happens there?  We must know!”
“Indeed!  This is a pressing concern!  We must discuss this new development!  The trial can wait!” shouted someone else.
“No!  The trial is of immediate importance!  It must happen now!” called another Council member.
“What of the humans?  How are they affected by this?  Does the Covenant exist in these new galaxies?  Does humanity?  Do the Forerunners?”
“Enough!  There will be order in these chambers!” the shrill and somewhat warbling voice of the Prophet of Mercy called from his gravity throne.  
“Indeed!  I am ashamed of this behavior!” added the Prophet of Truth.  The voices died down to barely audibly muttering, then vanished completely as the Prophets looked around the room.  
“Good.  Now, on to the business of this session.  The High Council has convened for a special session.  While originally supposed to be for the trial of Thel ‘Vadam, it now takes a new purpose: we must discuss these new places and what exactly they mean for our future,” said Truth.  The Prophets of Mercy and Regret nodded along with him.  The voices swelled once again, murmuring, then threatening to break out in a crescendo of noise.  
“Order!” yelled Regret over the din.  The babble died down once more.  Despite the Prophets being San'Shyuum, a species that looked largely like bipedal worms with oversized craniums and were about as physically threatening as the description suggests, they were the religious leaders of the Covenant, and so their word was law.  Though the Council could technically oppose them, it rarely did so.  Those who called for the trial to take place immediately were gradually silenced, and the chamber came to order.  
“As it should be,” muttered Mercy crossly.
“Now, on to business.”  The ‘again’ in that sentence remained unsaid.  “Due to still unknown reasons, several other galaxies have appeared beyond the borders of ours.  We know not what they are.  We know not what they want.”  The Council started to murmur again.  
“Therefore, to make certain no one interferes, it is our duty to start down the Great Journey as soon as possible.  Thel ‘Vadam and his fleet, while unable to prevent its destruction, found one of the Sacred Rings.  It is but a short time when we find another.”
“Yes, indeed,” said Regret.  “We have located a Sacred Icon, needed for the firing of the Rings, on a human world.”  The Council broke out in shouting once more.
“We must retrieve it immediately!”
“Yes!  The Heretics have no right to hold such an artifact!”  
“Silence!” roared Truth once more.  He looked around at the assemblage, then continued.  “We shall retrieve this Icon as soon as possible.  The trial of Thel ‘Vadam shall happen, a fleet shall be prepared, the icon retrieved, and the Rings fired.”  The murmurings became positive.  
“Good.  Onwards, on the Great Journey, for the glory of the Covenant!”
And there we are.  As always, if you have any comments, questions, concerns, criticisms, or requests, feel free to ask!
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kevinbingham · 4 years
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The story of how white terrorists overthrew the US Government
Originally from here.
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WOW. I knew some bits of this, but not all of it with the big picture. It is well worth the read. It’s a 2000 word essay (approximately 4 pages). ________________________________________
@michaelharriot 9:24 PM · Oct 21, 2019 ------ Thread:
A lot of white people were shocked to learn about the bombing of Tulsa from HBO's "Watchmen" while most black people are familiar with the bombing of Black Wall Street.
Even historians mention these events as isolated incidents. ------- Racial terrorism is actually normal in American history but I believe we talk about in the wrong way.  These are not isolated incidents , nor are they rare.
This is the story of how a national campaign by whites terrorists overthrew the US government ------- A few weeks ago, Donald Trump tweeted that there would be a coup if he was ousted from the presidency and media outlets portrayed him as crazy. It it is NOT crazy to think that a race war is possible.
It has happened FOUR TIMES in history. ------- The first race war was the genocide of native Americans. The Civil War was the second. But I want to talk about the third one because it was actually an overthrow of the US government. ------- When we talk about racial injustice in America, we usally start with slavery and then go to the Jim Crow era. But we often forget that there was a period after the Civil War where white racists actually overthrew the government. This is not hyperbole. ------- First, we must remember that blacks were a LARGE part of Southern states right after the World War Wyipipo ((If they can call it "the War against Northern Aggression" then I can call it what I want).
Ala., Fla., Ga., & La. were more than 40% black. SC & MS were MAJORITY black ------- Because racial terrorists hadn't taken black people's right to vote SEVENTEEN black people served in Congress between 1870 and 1898.
All of these were Republicans (We'll get to what happened later). ------- In many states, including Mississippi, 90% of black eligible voters were registered to vote. Part of this was because Union troops were still in the South after the War for White Supremacy (Again, I call it what I want, you call it what you want). ------- And this "black wave" didn't just happen in Congress. It started happening on the local and state level, too. To combat this, white people enacted poll taxes, literacy tests and...
Nah, I'm just bullshitting.  
They just started killing black people. ------- Now history books often mention these incidents as "riots" or "racial violence," but the FBI defines terrorism as acts "inspired by or associated with primarily US-based movements that espouse extremist ideologies of a political, religious, social, racial or environmental nature" ------- In 1866 during the Louisiana Constitutional Convention, ex-Confederates, police officers and regular, store-brand white folks attacked black Republicans in New Orleans. They killed any women, kids & black person they could find.
238 people were killed, most of whom were black ------- Historians estimate the Pulaski, Tenn. KKK committed 1,300 murders during the run-up to the 1868 election.
The same year, in St. Bernard Parish, white Democrats dragged somewhere between 35 and 200 black people from their homes and killed them to prevent them from voting ------- In Opelousas, La.  members of the "Knights of the White Camelia" along with white Democrats killed 200-300 black people and slaughtered 27 prisoners in the fall of 1868.
It happened all over SC. Altogether, 1500 were killed to prevent them from voting ------- One of the things you must remember is that in many of these state, the Union soldiers in charge of upholding the law were black.
Can you imagine how salty white confederates must have been to fight for white supremacy and then have negroes lording over them as a reminder? ------- Not to mention the fact that these black people were now controlling politics. Remember, in many of these states, black people were OUTVOTING these traiterous-ass white supremacists.
Some of them decided to overthrow the government. ------- In Laurens County SC, THOUSANDS of white KKK sympathizers attacked black freedman after the white people's plan to stuff the ballot box failed. No one knows how many black people were killed in the resulting mass murder, but the Governor had to declare martial law in the county. ------- In NC, there was an actual 2-Year war. In the Kirk-Holden war (look it up, it's CRAZY), the army had to come in and fight the KKK.
Racist white Democrats took up arms, ARRESTED the leader of the army (Kirk), impeached NC's governor(Holden) and removed him from office. ------- Ark. had to form a militia to fight the KKK. They basically had to travel across the state fighting the Klan. But they didn't just intimidate blacks from voting, they had another plan: They just assassinated black candidates.
The Arkansas "Militia Wars" lasted almost 2 years. ------- Now, in all of these incidents, NO whites were ever charged, and white, racist Democrats managed to overthrow the will of the majority using violence and intimidation.
But none of those stories compare to what happened to the Original 33 in Georgia. ------- In 1868, a few years before Outkast had their first hit, the citizens of Georgia elected 30 black state representatives and 3 black senators to the state legislature.  
24 were ministers. Y'all know white folks weren't having this: ------- First,  they expelled 26 representatives.
Then they removed the 3 senators.
10 days later, they removed the final "mulatto" representatives from offices.
Then they started killing them. One-quarter of those black elected officials were jailed, beaten or shot. ------- Then, the Ga. Supreme Court ruled that the elected officials had no right to hold office because their  veins held" African or blood."
So the representatives decided to go on a protest march to attend a Republican convention. ------- Now this wasn't just legislators, it was supporters too. You see, a lot of these men had been enslaved, so imagine how proud those black people must have been to see these brave men fighting for their rights.
Of course, the white people were incensed! ------- Knowing this, the black people brought their guns. Of course, during this time, this was perfectly normal... Kinda.
ONE reason these men were elected into office was that, after the Great "Can-I-Keep-My-Slave" War (I call it what I want, dammit!) there was an unspoken rule: ------- Knowing this, the black people brought their guns. Of course, during this time, this was perfectly normal... Kinda.
ONE reason these men were elected into office was that, after the Great "Can-I-Keep-My-Slave" War (I call it what I want, dammit!) there was an unspoken rule: ------- So, to combat this, one of those state senators reportedly had FOUR HUNDRED armed guards with him. I guess he figured that they couldn't ask each one individually but we know the whites don't play by the rules. ------- Remember, these people were walking 25 miles to a POLITICAL rally, when they encountered a white "citizens committee."
Now, if you're white, that might not sound scary, but trust me, black people know that ANY white person who refer to themselves as a "citizen" is up to no good. ------- So the citizens committee told the black people to hand over their guns, which the black crowd refused. The white Democrats were like: "aight, we tried," and let them past.
The black people thought: "Damn, that was too easy. If I know white folks, they are up to something." ------- Of course they were.
A little further down the road, in all-white town of Camilla, the sheriff had deputized damn near all of the white "citizens" and handed out guns.
When the black legislators and marchers came through, they massacred them ------- But they didn't just stop there. For WEEKS white Democrats roamed the Georgia countryside beating, murdering, lynching and killing any black person who even looked like they might vote. ------- Some of y'all know this, and some of y'all don't but in the entire history of America, this was the ONLY non-wartime incident  that the President of the United States suspended the constitutional right to Habeas Corpus (the right to be detained without being charged with a crime) ------- That's right. A white supremacist army is the only army that ever defeated the US army.
In 1874 the FIVE THOUSAND members of the Democratic "White League" literally overthrew the Republican Lousiana Governor in the Battle of Liberty Place. ------- In Colfax, La., the same year, the White League killed 150 black people and assasinated Republican candidates
The same thing happened that year in Coushactta, La.
So why do I say the KKK won?
Is it a bit extreme to say they "overthrew the government?" -------- Well, not only did these terrorists use violence to oust democratically elected candidates from office but they changed the course of history.
In the 1876 election,  racist Democrats cheated so bad that the Electoral College was basically disbanded. ------- For instance, SC stuffed the ballot box xo bad that 101 percent of eligible voters were represented. In Fla and Georgia, they just created their own ballots. Some of the Southern states just REFUSED to give Republicans their electoral votes, regardless of the results. ------- Instead, Congress decided to let a 15-member group go into a back room and decide what to do (It's a little more complicated than this, but not really. They LITERALLY let some white men decide who would be president because of this racial terrorism) ------- And Rutherford B Hayes was declared the winner 185 electoral votes to Tilden's 184
And to make up for a Republican president, Congress and Hayes agreed to do 5 things:
1. Put a Democrat in the cabinet (Hayes did it.) 2. Remove the troops from the South (Hayes did it) -------
3. Build a transcontinental railroad through the south (It never happened) 4. Help build the south from an agrarian economy to an industrial economy (Congress didn't do it)
But the fifth item is why I say the racist terrorists overthrew the government and beat won ------- The South wanted the Congress and the president to assure them that they would not interfere in how Southern states treated its black citizens.
Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce you to Mr. Jim Crow. ------- Now, this kind of racial violence would go on for nearly a century without federal intervention, all because of "compromise" in 1876 when the racist Democrats overthrew the government.
Oh, I haven't forgotten what I said earlier. ------- You see, in 1948, Harry Truman integrated the armed forces and those Southern racists Democrats hated that. They could see that integration was coming, so they decided to form their own party: The Dixiecrats ------- By 1964, almost every Southern Democrat had switched to the Republican party. Their platform was the same as those racial terrorists from the 1860s: They believed they should be able to do whatever they wanted to black people.
Yes, the South seceded again. ------- 100 years after terrorists started their quest to overthrow the government, no Democratic presidential candidate would ever win a majority of white voters in ANY state again.
EVER. ------- So when Republicans talk about how Democrats used to be racists, they are partially correct. But I don't think of them as Democrats or Republicans,  I just refer to them as "Racist Whites."
Since the beginning of this country, they have never been on the side of Democracy ------- And these incidents have nothing to do with hate. They are an orchestrated terrorist campaign to keep power. Whether its voter suppression or mass murder, they've done it before and they are still doing it.
And that, my friend, is called "white supremacy" ------- *correction: No Democratic president has won a majority of white voters in any SOUTHERN state since 1964 ------- By the way, I’m not some kind of history genius.
I didn’t know most of this information until a few months ago when phone calls with @HenryLouisGates and @AfricanaCarr sent me down this rabbit hole.
Now THEY are geniuses -------
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olympedupuget · 4 years
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Gif Request Meme - A Musical of my Choice + a Villain:  Artois and Orléans
↳ Requested by @fallenidol-453
Philippe Égalité: The only legitimate son of the Duc d’Orléans, a prince du sang from birth, Philippe was a very unlikely revolutionary. And yet Philippe showed a strong level of compassion for the lives of the lower class, going down a coal shaft to see the conditions faced by miners, pulling a groom of his from a river with his own hands, and providing shelter for the poor during the bitter winter of 1788-89. 
He was noted for his extravagant lifestyle; a noted lover of racehorses, gambling, architecture, his various and assorted mistresses, and all things English. Despite being the richest man in France, with a truly astronomical income, he nonetheless found himself frequently in debt. That was the impetus for him to totally redesign the Palais Royal over the course of two and a half years, opening it up to shopkeepers and establishing it as a major area for counter revolutionary activity, with the police being banned from intervening. As such, an overwhelming feeling of liberty prevailed there, with people from all social classes gathering to observe the spectacles and walk along the gardens there. 
There was a certain amount of hostility to be expected between the two branches of the Bourbon family, going as far back as the first Duc’s tempestuous relationship with his brother, Louis XIV. Still, the relationship between Louis XVI and Philippe gradually deteriorated over time, despite several attempts to patch things up. Orléans blamed Louis for the loss of his naval career, with the controversial Battle of Ushant in 1778 being a major breaking point in their relationship. In 1788, he spoke up at a “Royal Sitting” where Louis tried to press the Parliament into obeying his will, saying “Sire, this appears to be illegal.” Louis responded, “It is legal, because I wish it to be so.” Orléans spent the next five months in a comfortable exile at his estate, and he returned more popular than ever. 
When the Estates General was called, Orléans sided with the Third Estate, taking his place with the other delegates rather than sitting with the Royal Family as his rank entitled him to. His name was consistently brought up alongside revolutionary activity, with his bust being paraded alongside Necker’s on July 12, 1789, when the rash charge of the Prince de Lambesc into the Tuilleries heightened the people’s fears over an armed crackdown of Paris. It would be in the Palais Royal where Camille Desmoulins would jump on a table and call the people to arms, and even though the exact impact of that statement’s been disputed, the fact that Palais Royal was a huge locus point for revolutionary activity never has been. 
Among the royalists, it was popularly thought that Orléans was behind the entire Revolution, masterminding the Storming of the Bastille, the Women’s March to Versailles, a famine, and various and assorted other disturbances, in lieu of believing that the common people themselves were discontent. However, the sources nearest and dearest to Philippe suggest that he had no intention of seizing power, and Philippe’s own action of going and staying in England at Lafayette’s suggestion between October 1789 and July 1790, when he had a strong chance of fighting back against the charges and seizing power for himself by riding off the highest point of his popularity, strongly indicates that he had no intention of seizing the throne for himself. Overall, while he was a man of undeniable courage, the popular consensus is that he was, by nature, too passive to do it on his own, generally being very diffident to those near him such as his former mistress and longtime friend, Madame de Genlis, as well as her rival for his attention, Pierre Ambroise François Choderlos de Laclos, and generally disinterested in long-form plans, preferring to throw himself into whims. It is far more likely that, if a plan existed to make Philippe king, it came from one of those brains, as opposed to anything Philippe himself considered in any detail. 
He did, however, become embittered over the increasingly chilly reception he received at Versailles, including one occasion where a courtier shouted “Do not let him touch the wine!” when he entered, with him then being spat on as he made his leave. 
In the latter half of 1792, Philippe faced a bevy of problems, both personal and political, as his long-suffering wife had filed for a separation, his daughter was put on a list of émigrés and was forced to leave the country very shortly after arriving (after Madame de Genlis, who he had instructed to take her back before her name could be added, lingered for too long, causing a final breakdown in their long relationship), his popularity was rapidly fading, and he had been called, as a Deputy of the National Convention, to sit at the trial of his cousin. According to one anecdote, found in William Cooke Taylor’s Memoirs of the House of Orléans, it was in that particular maelstrom that he changed his name, as a last ditch effort to save his daughter and prove his loyalty to the Revolution, to Philippe Égalité. Many options were considered for him to not sit the trial, and there is no reason to believe, despite the long-lasting enmity that the two of them had, that Philippe, when he went to sleep the night before the trial of Louis began on December 26, that he had any idea that when it came time to give the verdict on January 14-15, he would vote “yea,” a decision that shocked the entire room, not the least Louis himself. Perhaps it was a last ditch effort to save himself, perhaps he felt pressured to do it by everyone else in the room, perhaps in that moment he truly believed that Louis’ actions merited the death penalty. It’s impossible to truly know, but in the end that one decision, more than anything else, has defined his legacy. 
However, the Royalists would soon be able to find some comfort, as, on the 4th of April 1793, his son, Louis-Philippe, Duc de Chartres, defected along with General Dumouriez, and Philippe’s enemies had the ammunition they needed.
On 7 April, 1793, he was arrested and sent to Fort Saint-Jean in Marseilles, along with two of his sons. Throughout his imprisonment, Philippe kept up an optimistic front, constantly reassuring his sons, the Duc de Montpensier and the Comte de Beaujolais, on the rare occasions he was allowed to speak to them after they were separated, that everything would turn out well, even expressing optimism about his trial in Paris. Whether this was real or simply an attempt at keeping up morale will never be known, but on November 2, 1793, he was sent back to Paris, to be imprisoned in the Conciergerie. He was tried on the 6th and, at his own request not to prolong things any longer than necessary, he was executed on that same day. By all accounts, he met his death courageously, his composure only threatening to break when the cart he was in stopped in front of the Palais Royal, so that he could very clearly see the sign on it that said it was now national property. His last words were to stop the assistants at the guillotine from taking off his boots, saying “You are losing time, you can take them off at a greater leisure when I am dead.” 
Unlike his royal cousins, his body was never found, and to this day, he is generally considered as one of the great villains of the Revolution in media associated with it, though none of the serious charges against him (the October Days being prime) were ever proven.
Charles X- For most of his younger years, like his older cousin, Charles’ defining quality was his wild life, which was punctuated by multiple love affairs, copious gambling and alcohol, and even more copious debts, with his brother, Louis XVI, somewhat reluctantly paying the bills. He also had a close friendship with his brother’s wife, who he shared a love of high living with, the two of them often being seen together at the theatre and balls. This close friendship was much remarked upon, with Artois being a frequent subject of the pornographic pamphlets that circulated about the queen, along with Marie Antoinette’s favorite, Madame de Polignac. In the years preceding and following the Revolution, however, the two of them gradually cooled, with their later relationship being marked by political disagreements. Charles consistently pressured his brother into more conservative stances during the meeting of the Estates General, arguing against doubling the Third Estates’ representation and conspiring to get rid of Louis’ liberal finance minister, Jacques Necker. The dismissal of the Necker would end up being one of the leading causes for the Storming of the Bastille, with Charles’ temporary personal victory being quickly eclipsed by the blaze that the little spark of Revolution had turned into. In the days immediately following the Storming of the Bastille, Artois was ordered to emigrate by his brother, along with the rest of his family.
He wouldn’t see France again for decades, going from court to court in Europe asking for help and trailed by a small army of creditors (who would become some of his most frequent companions, the avid huntsman only being able to go out riding at his estate at Holyrood on Sundays, when his creditors would be unable to pursue him), but with very little materializing, even less of which was successful, with the Battle of Quiberon being particularly disastrous to any hope of a royalist win by military might. Instead, he set up his main residence in London, with his mistress, Louise de Polastron, sister-in-law of Madame de Polignac, upon whose death he swore a vow of celibacy, the former playboy becoming sober and religious in his later years. The family briefly returned to France in May 1814, with the exile of Napoleon to Elba, however his later escape and mustering of the troops led to them leaving the city in February 1815, only able to fully establish themselves back in the country shortly after Napoleon’s defeat at Waterloo. Upon his brother, the Comte de Provence’s ascension to the throne as Louis XVIII (the space between XVI and XVIII being taken up by Charles’ young nephew, Louis-Charles, who died in prison and therefore never ruled), Charles became known as a leading member of the Ultra Royalist faction, who were, as the name suggests, “More Royalist than the king.” His brother dying without a male heir, Charles took the throne in 1824, though his highly conservative policies following his more tolerant brother’s reign made him highly unpopular with the public. 
In 1830, he was forced to abdicate. His intent had been for the throne to go to his young grandson, however, it would go to Louis-Philippe, Duc d’Orléans, the son of Philippe Égalite (who would himself end up being deposed.) He spent the remainder of his life similarly to how he spent his exile, traveling from place to place, hounded by debtors.
 Eventually, he would die in Austria, on 6 November 1836, 43 years to the day of his revolutionary cousin’s execution. 
Sources: 
The Chevalier de Saint-Georges: Virtuoso of the Sword and the Bow: Gabriel Banat
A French King at Holyrood: Alexander John Mackenzie Stuart
The Journalists and the July Revolution in France: The Role of the Political Press in the Overthrow of the Bourbon Restoration 1827–1830: Daniel Rader
Memoirs of the House of Orléans: William Cooke Taylor
The Perilous Crown: France Between Revolutions, 1814-1848: Munro Price
Prince of the blood : being an account of the illustrious birth, the strange life and the horrible death of Louis-Philippe Joseph, fifth duke of Orleans, better remembered as Philippe Egalite: Evart Seelye Scudder
Revolutions in the Western World 1775–1825: Jeremy Black, ed.
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Kong: Skull Island- Bombs
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Pairing: Reg Slivko x Irene Brown
James Conrad x Irene Brown (brother-sister relatioship)
Jack Chapman x Irene Brown (brother-sister relationship)
Summary: They fly into the island and drop seismic charges, but all does not go as planned. At all.
Warnings: panic attack, cursing, crashes, etc (also bombs obvi)
Word Count: 2438
“We did ask to arm those helicopters. Shouldn’t they know why?”  I heard Houston speak to Randa as they loaded their things onto the helicopter.
I yanked on James’s wrist, pointing to my ear and then them.
“Why? And raise an alarm? Purely precaution, Brooks.” Randa hit his arm before walking ahead.
James looked at me, eyebrows furrowed. Why would they arm the helicopters? He shook his head, pulling on my arm.
“I don’t think I want you to come.” He whispered.
I shook my head, gripping the strap of the crossbow my father had given me when I was a child. “You aren’t going out there on your own, I already told you.”
He sighed.
“Look. I’ve got you taking care of me, Mason probably will too, and now I’ve definitely got Slivko watching my back.”
He chuckled. “I saw. That was quite a kiss for a girl who ‘doesn’t do soldiers’ don’t you think?”
“Yeah, I’m a goner. But if you die in there, I die in there. Deal?”
“No. If you die in there, I die in there. But if I die in there, you make it out alive, marry Slivko, kick everyone’s arses and take the money. Okay?” He clasped a hand on my shoulder.
My throat seemed to close off for a second, so I shut my mouth and I nodded. That was the least likely scenario. Chances are I would die out there, but James was practically a survivalist, so he would be fine.
“Irene.” Jack broke from his stride next to the Colonel, his demeanor softening.
“What’s up?” I asked as James subtly pulled me closer to him, hand still on my shoulder.
“We need a biological expert to direct us on dropping the explosives. Miss San needs to be with Mr. Randa and Mr. Brooks. Will you come with us?” He put air quotes around ‘biological expert’ before gesturing to his helicopter.
My eyes widened and I looked at James, who has stiffened significantly. His eyes were trained on Jack, a horrifying fire in them. Jack cleared his throat awkwardly, shifting his weight to one side. I shrugged James’s hand off. He looked down to me, eyebrows furrowed.
“Yeah, I’ll go.” I nodded to Jack.
He nodded politely before taking a few steps back, giving us space.
“You’re seventeen.” James tugged my arm back.
“I know. I’ll be fine. We’ll land and then I’ll stay with you. But I can’t exactly say no.” I scoffed.
James breathed hard, shakily. I softened, grabbing at his hand.
“Jay. I’ll be alright. Don’t worry about me. It’s fifty or so miles out there. I’ll tell them where they should drop the bombs. Jack’ll land me, Reg will land you and Mason. The four of us will stick together. Okay?”
He bit at his lip before nodding. He sighed.
“Fine. Fine. You’ll be fine.” He mumbled, more as a reassurance for himself than me.
“Yeah. I’ll be okay.” I patted his arm.
“Here, I’ll take your bow so you can talk to Slivko.” He held his hand out for it as I tugged it off.
I pushed myself into his arms for a hug. He chuckled and kissed my forehead.
“Everything’s gonna be alright.” He whispered with a soft tone.
I smiled in agreement before heading off to meet Reg. He didn’t notice as he shut his record player and shoved it into the back of his helicopter.
“Hey.”
He turned around with a grin on his face. “Hey doll.”
I smiled and took his outstretched hand.
“You riding with Chapman?” He twirled me around, pulling my back to his front and wrapping his arms around my waist.
I nodded, leaning my head back against his shoulder. He sighed, dropping his head against my neck. His breath tickled my skin. We stayed like that for a moment before he kissed my jaw, pulling away. I sighed at the loss of warmth as he turned me around, hand guiding my waist.
“I’ve gotta move, or Packard will be on my ass.” He smiled gently.
I grabbed his face between my hands and pulled him down to meet my height, “Be careful. Okay?”
He smiled again, taking my hands in his and kissing each of them. “I’ve done stuff like this a million times before. I’ll be alright, don’t worry about me.”
I sighed. “Fine.”
He grinned, ghosting his lips over mine.
“You be careful. Alright?”
I smiled. “I’ll be fine. I was practically raised in the Amazon, and I know Jack would do anything to protect me.”
“The Amazon?” He raised an eyebrow. “You’ve gotta tell me all about that.”
I grinned as I saw Packard approaching. I pressed a kiss to Reg’s lips.
“I will, I promise. But later.” I smiled.
He winked as I turned to leave. Jack smiled at me, holding out a hand. I took it and walked with him to the helicopter.
“He’s a good kid.” Jack said nonchalantly.
I shrugged. “He’s cute.”
Jack laughed and shoved me lightly.
“Alright. Get in.” He motioned, helping me up.
I settled into the seat and strapped myself in as he climbed into the front. Jack tossed me back a pair of headphones, and I slipped them on with shaky fingers. The helicopters started up and the commands came over the speakers. The noise was too much for my brain to remain attentive to. I glanced at the helicopter next to me. Mason leaned into my frame of sight and waved. James shot me a calming smile. I forced a smile back before placing my foot in the middle of my crossbow. I didn’t want it to fall out, and I needed something to focus on.
I was anxious. Incredibly anxious. I didn’t like the idea of explosives in the first place, especially since we had no idea what was on this island. But James and I could use the money, and there was at least a sixty percent chance that we would be perfectly safe.
The helicopter took off, and the thunder from the island’s storm rumbled in my ears. I looked over at the soldiers stationed on either side of me. One of them had his gun ready and the other had a pile of boxes on hand. Probably the bombs. I ran my hands over my neck, feeling my pulse become erratic. It felt like my artery would pop out from under my skin at any minute.
Jack peeked at me from the corner of his eye. “You doing alright kiddo?”
I snapped my head up, forcing another smile.
“Yeah. I’m fine.”
He gave a curt nod before diverting his attention back to piloting. I saw Mason leaning out of their helicopter, camera in hand. The helicopter began to shake harder as we got closer to the storm. My leg began to bounce up and down. I wish I could’ve ridden with James. Maybe even held his hand. I never wanted to do anything like this again.
I braced myself, gripping the sides of my seat and stiffening my legs as alarms went off and lightning cracked by us. I sucked my lower lip between my teeth and shut my eyes. If I had been religious, I would have prayed.
I begged my brain to calm down instead. I could hear Jack grunting as the helicopter rocked violently, but all the sound was muffled. I opened my eyes, but my vision was spotty. I felt sick, and my head was filled with the lightest form of air possible. My leg bounced harder as I realized that I was having a panic attack.
I could hear Packard talking about Icarus through the headset, and I wished I could’ve heard Reg instead. I wondered how he handled stuff like this. I felt like I was going to die; I couldn’t imagine doing this a million times.
“But the exhilaration was too great. So he flew higher and higher until the sun melted his wings … and he fell into the sea. But the United States Army is not an irresponsible father-”
I felt myself choke. I needed James. I needed to calm down. I was going to hurt myself if I couldn’t calm down.
“... So they gave us wings of white, hot, coal rolled, Pennsylvania steel! Guaranteed not to melt.”
My chest clenched.
And then we broke through.
The fog seemed to melt away as we flew by it. I was shaking, and it felt like each cell in my body was vibrating. I timed my breathing, wishing there was something alcoholic to take a whiff of.
One of the first times I had a panic attack around James, he opened my father’s prized bottle of whiskey and asked me to smell it. It helped snap me back to reality.
The sun shone bright, and the island below was beautiful. Smaller pieces of land sprinkled in the water below us, which looked as blue as the sky. Lush, green jungles covered what seemed to be every inch of land. My breath hitched again, but this time from the wonders of nature.
“Oh hey, that’s pretty, huh?” Jack’s voice came through the headset.
I only laughed, looking out again. Packard issued orders, and we began to get lower. I watched the trees blend together as we passed by. It reminded me of the place where I had been raised. Of the Amazon, where I had lived for the first few years of my life.
A large group of seagulls flew past us. I looked out to see if I could see James. He caught my eye and smiled softly. It was reassuring beyond belief. One the helicopters began to play music, but I didn’t recognize it. I was too awestruck to care. Packard gave the order to split up, and I watched as three of the four people I cared about flew in a different direction.
I looked down at the animals. I couldn’t see specifics, but there were a few herds of what looked like deer. Their brown heads popped up when they heard the helicopters, and they ran.
“Ready for seismic charges.” Nieves’s voice came through the headset.
I felt my heart drop again.
“Irene.” Jack broke my thoughts. “You just tell us when.”
“Okay.” I breathed out, shaking once more.
I looked down. The animals had cleared out, and it was one part of a large, empty field.
“Now.” My voice came firmer than I had thought it would.
I watched the bomb drop down, cringing when it exploded. There was probably animals down there I hadn’t seen. Smaller ones for sure. I wiped it from my mind, hearing someone cheer. I could only imagine the faces James and Mason were making at each other right now. None of us thought bombs were the best idea.
We passed a grove of smaller trees, by the edge of the river. I sighed. They had at least six bombs.
“Again.” I ordered.
It fell into the trees. There were definitely animals we were killing.
“Hey Randa, you’re not gonna believe this.” Houston spoke, and it came through. “The bedrock? It’s practically hollow.”
I wrinkled my nose and Jack stole a glance back at me, a questioning look on his face. I shrugged. I gave the order to drop the explosives a few more times, guilt washing over me with each.
“Incoming!!” The shout came through.
I looked around. A helicopter went down. I felt my chest tighten. Screams began to pour out, and my head flipped back and forth, trying to find whatever the threat was. I heard the crash of another helicopter. Packard yelled over, shouting out which helicopters had come down.
Shouts came through again, but this time they were ones of surprise. I leaned into the helicopter to look through the window.
“Holy shit.” I mumbled.
“Is that a monkey?” Jack’s voice sounded so far away.
An ape. Easily a hundred feet tall. Standing there, silhouette against the sun. He had brought down the helicopters. This was his home. We had bombed it. He was angry. The soldiers kept talking, voices frantic.
“Somebody talk to me, man.” I heard Reg’s distressed voice.
My mind spun as I tried to think of something to tell him, calm him, reassure him. Nothing came. I took in a shuddering breath. I watched the ape clench his fist. Packard shouted orders. I lowered my head and I felt the sting of tears in my eyes.
We were going to die.
“Fox leader to Fox group. Fire at will!” Packard yelled.
“No!” I shouted back.
“Excuse me?” Came his reply, above the sound of gunfire.
“Shooting him won’t help! You’re just gonna make him angrier!” My voice was frantic and I felt as if I were choking.
“What the hell is that?” Cole’s voice.
“I don’t know!” Mills.
Shots fired. The ape roared. I cried. He punched a helicopter. It exploded. He pounded his chest and roared again. Nothing felt real. I wished James were next to me.
“Pull out now! Pull out!” I could hear James yelling, but it was more muffled than the rest.
“I don’t take orders from you!” Reg yelled back.
I thumped my head against the headrest. Goddammit. Another helicopter went down. Randa shouted over the radio. Our helicopter jolted, and an immense pressure felt like it came down on us. The ape roared again. Alarms began to go off, and we spun out of control.
“Fox six, we’ve got nominal control.” Jack announced. “We are going down.”
I felt my heart crush itself to nothing. We were going to die. James and I were wrong. Nothing was alright. I could’ve sworn I heard Slivko say my name before I pulled the headset off. I didn’t want to die with other people screaming in my ears.
“Irene!” Jack yelled, and suddenly he was next to me.
I met his eyes, horrified. His eyes softened and he reached for me, pulling me into his chest.
“Jack, I don’t wanna die!” I whimpered, sobbing.
He shushed me, rubbing circles onto my back. This is how I was going to die. Come to think of it, it could be worse.
“Ira, you need to hold on. Okay?” He spoke directly into my ear.
I popped up and nodded. He gripped my arm tightly, hooking his other arm around the seat he had just been in. I ducked my head again, making a conscious effort to breathe. We hit trees. My bow had made its way up to my knee. The metal surrounding us seemed to crumple like paper.
The world went dark.
Previous: Hand Holding and Flushed Cheeks
Next: Rivers and Creatures
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After Jesus was crucified, everyone had a different understanding of what Jesus had wanted them to do...even those who had never met or heard Jesus’ teachings, like Paul. Christianity is the result of those who thought Jesus wanted them create a religion...to collect money, and side with murderous/immoral political rulers...so they could gain status and political power (to cover up their immorality and avoid legal punishments)...legally steal pagan temples and property...and replicate pagan ceremonies...
“When it comes to religious history, the list of Catholic Church transgressions makes for pretty uncomfortable reading. Despite exalting virtue and kindness in its teaching, Church leadership has spearheaded a long history of outright unforgivable Catholic actions...
Though Vatican violence goes way back, there are a number of disturbing episodes from recent history. Some of this repugnant behavior comes from Popes, some was Church-endorsed, and some, most unsettlingly, was just straight-up regular Church practice.
Dark Church history contains scandal after scandal rife with every vice and taboo you can imagine. When the Church was at the height of its power (at which point it was the most powerful organization in the Western world), it's safe to say everything went to its head. Combine that with the fact that Church leaders seem to stubbornly resist adapting to changing(improving) morality...and you've got a whole lot of unforgivable moments on our hands.
** Systemically Covering Up Tens Of Thousands Of Cases Involving Sexual Misconduct:  Remember the time there was a systematic cover up of abuse, molestation, and rape at the hands of priests that went all the way to the top of the Church? A conservative estimate says there were 17,200 victims in the US alone, and this type of mistreatment happened world-wide. When complaints came in, priests and other offenders were transferred, rather than punished. The extent of their actions will probably never be fully understood, because of the decades of cover up. But the Church isn't denying it anymore. The archdiocese of Milwaukee acknowledged the severity of the issue and agreed to pay a $21 million settlement to 300 victims. But these types of settlements are few and far between.
The molestation of children is still happening at the hands of priests, 15 years after the Boston Globe broke the story. In fact, in August 2018, a grand jury reported that internal documents from six Pennsylvanian dioceses noted that over 300 "predator priests" were "credibly accused"...of harming more than 1,000 child victims; the alleged violations go as far back as 1947.
Due to statute of limitations, only two priests were charged with abusing minors. In February 2019, however, Pope Francis publicly acknowledged the systemic maltreatment and vowed to combat the problem. He said, "I think that it’s continuing because it’s not like once you realize it that it stops. It continues. And for some time we’ve been working on it."
** The Crusades...Or, Incapacitating Jews And Muslims For 300 Years:  In 1095, when Pope Urban II made a plea for war with Muslims, armies of Christians in Western Europe took up the charge. The pope promised serfs freedom if they went, galvanizing the masses. In the First Crusade, an army of peasants led by Peter the Hermit was massacred by the Turks. When an army of knights went after them and captured Jerusalem, it was said they massacred Muslims until the streets ran with blood.This was only the beginning. Waves of the Crusades continued until 1396, marking three centuries of warfare, and incalculable human suffering. "Taking the heads of slain enemies and impaling them upon pikes appears to have been a favorite pastime among crusaders. Chronicles record a story of a crusader-bishop who referred to the impaled heads of slain Muslims as a joyful spectacle for the people of God. When Muslim cities were captured by Christian crusaders, it was standard operating procedure for all inhabitants, no matter what their age, to be summarily killed. It is not an exaggeration to say that the streets ran red with blood as Christians reveled in church-sanctioned horrors. Jews who took refuge in their synagogues would be burned alive, not unlike the treatment they received in Europe."
** Pretty Much Everything Done By Pope Boniface VIII:  Boniface VIII (1230 -1303) was guilty of many horrible crimes that, sum total, make him seem like a sadistic Roman emperor. Among other things, he oversaw the complete destruction of Palestrina, a city that peacefully surrendered. Palestrina was completely razed, and Boniface ordered a plow driven over it to prove it had been reduced to nothing but earth and rubble.  You know priests take a vow of celibacy, right? Apparently, Boniface VIII didn't take his too seriously. He once had a three-way with a married woman and her daughter, but was even more well known for saying that having sex with young boys was as natural as rubbing one hand against the other. So, obviously, he was raping (or at least fornicating with), children. To celebrate his many great accomplishments, Boniface VIII just loved erecting statutes of himself. So add hubris to his list of sins.
** Burning Joan Of Arc For Dressing Like A Man:  You may know Joan of Arc as a saint, but the Church didn't always hold her in such high esteem. In fact, at one time, she was pretty much the Catholic Church's public enemy number one. In 1429, 17-year-old Joan of Arc, believing God had spoken to her, instigated an uprising to get the English out of France, but some high-powered Catholics who sympathized with the English weren't pleased. French king Charles VII wisely accepted Joan's help in his fight against the English, and together, they won some major battles.
When Joan was captured, Charles VII, unsure of whether he trusted her as an emissary of God, handed her over to the Church, which did what Catholics do best, put her on trial for heresy with no evidence. To make things one step more ridiculous, Joan was denied counsel, which was against Church rules. Despite this, she is famed for remaining cool, calm, and dripping with integrity throughout the trial. Because there was no evidence of heresy, Joan was found guilty of one of the 70+ other charges brought against her, wearing men's clothes (shirt and pants, like every country girl today!) , for which she was burned at the stake in 1431 in front of a crowd of thousands. In 1456, Charles VII ordered an investigation into Joan's trial. The result? She was declared innocent and made a martyr. The Church followed suit and, in 1920, canonized her. Talk about a change of heart. Maybe since all male Church officials wear dresses they pretend are robes, they decided it was okay for Joan to dress a little (country!). 
** Burning William Tyndale For Making A Vernacular Bible For The Masses You'd think the Church would make the mass distribution of its core text a main priority. As it turns out, in the 16th century, this was the last thing powerful Catholics wanted.  Scholar William Tyndale, on the other hand, wanted this so badly he went into hiding to translate the Bible into English, so lay people could read it for themselves. The Church was not happy about this, and when copies were smuggled around Europe, Catholic authorities demanded they be burned. And what of Tyndale? He was captured, tried for heresy for daring translate the bible, and burned at the stake. When Church authorities decided printing Bibles in English was okay, they borrowed a whole lot from Tyndale's translation. And never apologized.
** Slaying Countless Women As Witches Because Pope Innocent VII Was Paranoid: The Catholic Church wasn't the only group involved in witch hunts, but it kicked things off with Malleus Maleficarum (Hammer of Witches), a doozy of a book written in 1487, after Pope Innocent VIII declared, by papal bull, witches were real and a threat (due to their involvement with Satan). He wanted that sh*t investigated stat, so clergymen Johann Sprenger and Heinrich Krämer (using his Latin name, Henricus Institoris) took up the call and literally wrote the book on witches, Satanists (which were invented for this book), and hunts thereof. And boy, was it a success. It was so popular that, for 200 years, it was second only to the Bible on the sales charts. The problem? Well, for one, the book was hugely sexist and focused almost only on women, promoting burning them at the stake,  a common punishment for heretics. So who knows how many deaths it inspired; its influence was too huge to quantify. The book is also filled with somewhat dubious information, such as the following facts about witches and Satanists: they stop cows from giving milk; they rode through the air on broomsticks on their way to forest orgies; they ate infants.
** Absolving Sins For Cash Payments, Including Sins Not Yet Committed:  If one bit of Catholic Church history got drilled into your mind in high school, there's a good chance it was the selling of indulgences and Martin Luther's reformation. Now synonymous with money-grubbing, the idea of an indulgence isn't so bad in theory. According to Church doctrine, "[an] indulgence is a remission before God of the temporal punishment due to sins whose guilt has already been forgiven, which the faithful Christian who is duly disposed gains under certain defined conditions through the Church’s help when, as a minister of redemption, she dispenses and applies with authority the treasury of the satisfactions won by Christ and the saints." A little wordy, but potentially inoffensive.
In the 16th century, however, indulgences got out of hand. Pope Leo X had expensive taste and wasn't above using shady means to satisfy it. Indulgences were peddled as "pay X to absolve you of Y." Basically, money gets you into heaven. To give some indication of how crazy things got, Dominican friar John Teztel was named Grand Commissioner of indulgences in Germany (so, overseeing indulgence was his only job), where he sold absolution for future sins. So: "Hey, give us some gold, it's all good if you kill that dude next week."
If you were poor and ignorant, as most poor people in the period probably were, you basically just believed you were hopelessly f*cked and did your best to prepare for an eternity spent frolicking in the torments of hell. So what happened? Martin Luther, none too pleased, wrote his 95 Theses, effectively kick starting the Reformation.
** Orchestrating The Fall Of The Knights Templar To Appease A Broke King:  ...the Knights Templar, a stateless military fraternity assembled to protect Christian pilgrims to the Holy Land, were the subject of gossip a long time ago. They were endorsed by the Roman Catholic Church in 1129, and were famous valorous service in the Crusades. They were also really good with money, which shouldn't have been a problem, but King Philip IV of France owed them (and others) a whole lot of it. Philip took advantage of growing fear of the Knight Templar's power and pressured the Church into dropping the mighty anvil of god down on them. What the Church did next wasn't great. In 1307, Pope Clement V had members arrested and tortured, gaining false confessions of heresy. In fact, he got enough such confessions to justify disbanding the order in 1312. Various Knights confessed to spitting on the cross, fraud, and secrecy (which was apparently a crime?), and nobody cared the confessions arose from torture and were recanted afterward. Archbishop of Sens Philippe de Marigny, who ran an investigation into the Knights, had dozens burned at the stake. A fine repayment for all of that fighting in the crusades. In 2007, a secret document showing Pope Clement V absolved the Knights before later deciding to disband them was published. Historians believe this document provides essential proof that the Church caved under King Phillip's pressure. Good news for the Knight's integrity, bad news for the Church's.
** Burning Someone 43 Years After He Passed Because He Upset Some Important Catholics:  As if having your enemies killed wasn't enough, Catholics gotta burn the corpses, too. What gives? Trying to outdo what the Romans did to JC and John Wycliffe (1320 – 1384), famous English theologian and vocal critic of the Church, was a forerunner of the Reformation. Among his many criticisms was a belief the Church should give up its worldly possessions. As you can imagine, not an idea the church was happy to have spread around. Wycliffe also promoted and worked on the first English translation of the Bible, hoping to give people direct access to the word of god. Again, not a fun idea for the Church, which liked its monopoly on power.
William Courtenay, Archbishop of Canterbury, made moves against Wycliffe after retiring (gotta stay busy). Wycliffe's writings were banned in certain areas, but it didn't end there. It didn't even end when Wycliffe died of a stroke in 1384. Instead, in 1415 (31 years after he died), the Council of Constance declared Wycliffe a heretic. Not only did they order his books burned, they ordered his body exhumed and burned. And it took them 12 years to do that. So, 43 years after Wycliffe died, his corpse was torched and his ashes thrown in the River Swift. So much for resting in peace.
** Executing Jan Hus For Working Out Some Tricky Theological Philosophy: The Church tends to be pretty brutal with its critics, of which the treatment of Jan Hus, born 1372, is one of the best (or worst) examples. A Czech priest, Hus felt the Church, run by humans, who are by nature flawed, must necessarily also therefore be flawed, while the Bible, the direct word of God, had no flaws. He was, therefore, openly critical of Church practices, especially the papal schism and indulgence sales. So, not very happy with Hus, the Church convened the Council of Constance and invited him to join them. Nothing to worry about, just a wee chat. Or so they said. Instead of having that wee chat, the Council arrested Hus and put him on trial (and then in jail) for, you guessed it, heresy. He was kept in a dungeon and, when he refused to recant his teachings, was sentenced to death. The Church even refused him his last rights before burning him at the stake. And to think they said they just wanted to talk.
** The Joust Of Whores Organized By Pope Alexander VI: The Joust of Whores is just one example of the corrupt and ridiculous popes of yore. In 1501, Pope Alexander VI (a Borgia, if that rings any bells), who was known to have some pretty refined hobbies, like watching horses fornicate, took things way over the top. According to historian Tony Perrottet, he invited 50 women to strip at the pope's table. Then things got weird.As Perrotet writes: "Alexander and his family gleefully threw chestnuts on the floor, forcing the women to grovel around their feet like swine; they then offered prizes of fine clothes and jewelry for the man who could fornicate with the most women."It's rumored Alexander VI was killed by his son, Cesar. Just to show how truly f*cked up Alexander was, his body was expelled from the basilica of Saint Peter. Why? He was considered too evil for sacred soil.
** The Roman Inquisition, During Which Judaism And Love Magic Were Serious Crimes: The level of the Church's involvement in various inquisitions can be argued. It's important to remember Pope Innocent IV (ironic name, that) explicitly condoned torture as an Inquisition interrogation technique in his papal bull Ad extirpanda in 1252 (which bull probably deserves its own place on this list). The Spanish Inquisition, most famous of these murder orgies, was carried by Spanish royalty and friars, who were Catholic, but not working directly for, or under direction of, the Vatican.
But wait, kids! Don't forget the Roman Inquisition, or the Supreme Sacred Congregation of the Roman and Universal Inquisition, which was 100% the church's doing. In 1542, as part of a Counter-Reformation against Protestantism (seriously, didn't these people have anything better to do than overreact to other Christians who pissed them off?), the Spanish Inquisition's gentle cousin, the Roman Inquisition, was born. Galileo and Copernicus were among those questioned. While Church staple heresy was a popular dish during the Inquisition, the menu had a number of options, including blasphemy, Judaism (which is a crime how?), immorality, witchcraft, love magic (yes please), and anything else wrathful Papists could shoe-horn in. John Bargrave, a  contemporary English writer, described how he was questioned in Latin (rather than Italian) to prevent uneducated guards from understanding what was being said. He was also prevented from carrying books "printed at any heretical city, as Geneva, Amsterdam, Leyden, London, or the like." Not as bad as the Spanish Inquisition, sure, but very much related and equally dogmatic, close minded, and power-mongering. A Church specialty
** Imprisoning Galileo In His Home For Years Because He Suggested Science Was Greater Than God:  The Church and science have a complicated relationship, to put it nicely. In 1633, Galileo Galilei, the father of, like, all science, was put on trial by the Church for saying the sun is the center of the universe and the earth moves around it, rather than the other way around. Which is, you know, true for the most part (sure, okay, the sun isn't the center of the universe, but still, he was onto something). But that didn't matter. Pope Urban VIII was having none of it, seeing Galileo's statement as horrific heresy. So, 10 cardinals sat in judgment of Galileo, who was threatened with torture, imprisonment, and even being burned at the stake. Galileo, 69 at the time and in a "pitiable state of bodily indisposition," eventually renounced his beliefs. Because of this, the church went easy on him and, rather than torture, he was subjected to house arrest until he died. What a way to treat the father of modern of science. And what does the church have to say on the subject now? "We today know that Galileo was right in adopting the Copernican astronomical theory," Paul Cardinal Poupard, the head of an investigation into the matter said in 1992. So, only 350 years too late.
** Cutting Funding For Immigrants Because Of Their Connection To The LGBTQ+ Community:  Not all Catholic faux pas come from the past; there's been some dodgy stuff in modern times, as well (see priest rape bonanza), and the church's relationship with the LGBTQ+ community continues to be a source of frustration. But here's a humdinger: For years, the Church gave thousands of dollars to Compañeros, a nonprofit helping Hispanic immigrants access healthcare, understand laws, and meet other basic needs. That is, until the Church found out Compañeros teamed up with a gay and lesbian rights group, at which point Nicole Mosher, executive director of  Compañeros, was informed their funding was in danger. Compañeros is but one example of organizations the Church threatens for not falling in line with the most strident dictates of Catholicism. The New York Times explained in 2002, "Since 2010, nine groups from across the country have lost financing from the campaign because of conflicts with Catholic principles."On the one hand, of course it's okay for the Church to withhold money from causes in contradiction with its beliefs. Like, say, an abortion clinic. But cutting off funding to aid the needy simply because of an association with the LGBTQ+ community seems extreme and unfair, especially given Church doctrine on helping the needy and feeding the poor. What's more, members of the LGBTQ+ community can identify as Catholic and go to church, but can't be helped by that Church? This is all the more more difficult to swallow when considering the Church's $1.6 billion stock portfolio...”
From https://m.ranker.com/list/most-unforgivable-things-the-catholic-church-has-done/lea-rose-emery
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urfavmurtad · 5 years
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Well folx it’s that time of year again: the Starving For Allah festival begins shortly. (I’m only gonna be fasting in public this year and will be stuffing my mouth the second I get into my room, for the record.) As a Special Ramadan Series, I’ve dug through my asks to find the most common question that I get, and the resounding answer is: sectarianism!!! People raised Sunni, people raised Shia, and non-Muslims whose knowledge of this part of history is “some people think the fourth guy should have been first” all wanna know Shaikha Urfavmurtad’s hot take on the mess that unfolded following the death of our beloved prophet (PUBG). And I will give the ppl what they want!
Let me give you a brief rundown of the sources for everything that follows. Written Islamic history began in the mid-8th century, over a hundred years after these events unfolded, though it built upon a systematized oral learning tradition. By that point, the first two dynasties of Islam had faded away, and the third, called the Abbasid dynasty, was freshly in control of the majority (but not all) of the territory conquered by the first generation of Muslims. The Abbasids were descended from a member of Mohammed’s extended family, and this fact was essentially their sole claim to rulership. They engaged in constant propaganda against their predecessors, called the Umayyad dynasty, who by this point had been reduced to a tiny stub of their former territory. The Umayyads were descended from the same tribe as Mohammed, but were not specifically descended from his family within that tribe.
For reasons that will eventually become obvious, this means that all accounts of the complete political clusterfuck that was the caliphate in the 50 years following Mohammed’s death have to be looked at with some degree of skepticism. There were reasons why authors writing in this period would feel compelled to characterize certain individuals as evil or at least misguided and others as pure souls, and they doubtlessly exaggerated and embellished some reports. And even the reports that truly do seem to go all the way back to the first generations of Islam can’t be fully trusted--these people were talking about their own lives, defending their own actions and criticizing those of their political enemies. Despite that, we have enough solid reports from enough people on different sides of each divide to put most of the story together. The main events of the story actually don’t differ that much between sources--the differences are mostly in the ways people are depicted during those parts.
Full disclosure: I was raised Sunni. I do not have the emotional attachment to certain historical figures that Shia people do. Even non-religious Shia people have a tendency to cry when they hear some of the stories that we’ll talk about, whereas I just think “lol that’s a biT much tbh”. However, given my current belief that all of these guys were dumb assholes, I feel that I can offer my fairly unbiased take on which dumb asshole deserved to be King of the Dumb Assholes.
After reading this, I believe you’ll come to agree with my thesis statement, namely that the true hero of Islam is the one who probably didn’t even believe in the damn religion.
And so I present my pre-Ramadan gift: part one of The Death of Crazy Mo.
THE CAST OF CHARACTERS
THE QURAYSH: The tribe in charge of Mecca and essentially the only relevant people in the story. Prior to this whole fiasco, they made a living primarily as merchants, traveling along caravan routes to other lands. They also catered to polytheistic pilgrims visiting their shrine, called the Kaaba. Most of Mohammed’s early followers (including Mohammed himself) were from clans of the Quraysh. Though most of the Quraysh originally strongly opposed Mohammed, they were worn down by years of conflict and “embraced Islam” following the conquest of Mecca. The leader of the Quraysh’s military prior to Mecca’s conquest was Abu Sufyan, a member of the Banu Umayya clan. Abu Sufyan is the father of one of Mohammed’s wives (Ramla) and several other children, including a son named Muawiya. He and his sons “converted” the day Mecca was conquered and have served Mohammed ever since. Muawiya currently works as one of Mohammed’s scribes.
MOHAMMED: Some old guy from the Banu Hashim clan of the Quraysh. Spends most of his time in a state of fever-induced delirium while ranting about religious minorities. Had several children, but all but one--his youngest daughter Fatima--have died of disease.
ABU BAKR: A wealthy, well-connected merchant of the Quraysh who converted to Islam early on and brought a bunch of people into the religion. He knew his fellow merchant Mohammed before Islam’s creation and grew to become his best friend. Mohammed bestowed the title of “as-Siddiq” or “the Truthful” upon him when Abu Bakr affirmed his belief that Mohammed took a round trip to Jerusalem on a magic horse/donkey in the middle of the night. As the years went on, he established himself as Mo’s closest confidante and has been vested with a great deal of political and military authority in the Muslim community as a result. His daughter Aisha was married off to Mohammed as a child and has been his favorite wife ever since.
UMAR: A belligerent asshole from a well-known family of the Quraysh who was also an early convert. He is another one of Mohammed’s fathers-in-law via his daughter Hafsa. Everyone knows that Umar is unpleasant, but they are forced to tolerate his existence because Mohammed and Abu Bakr are his buddies. Serves as The Big Guy and is good at yelling at people to whip them into shape.
UTHMAN: A wealthy merchant and old friend of Abu Bakr’s, who converted at the latter’s insistence. Went on to marry two of Mohammed’s daughters, Roqaya and Umm Kulthum, both deceased at this point in time. As such, he is also a member of Mohammed’s inner circle. He is from the Banu Umayya clan, meaning that Abu Sufyan & Sons are his relatives. This will cause drama later on.
ALI: Mohammed’s cousin (the son of his father’s brother) and son-in-law via Fatima, with whom he has two young daughters and two young sons, Hasan and Hussein. Mohammed was raised by his uncle, Ali’s father Abu Talib, after his own parents died. As an adult he returned the favor and helped raise Ali when Abu Talib was in a tough financial situation. Ali converted essentially right away as a teenager due to the fact that he lived with Mohammed and his family. He has been one of the Muslim army’s most notable soldiers since his early twenties and is one of the most prominent members of the community despite his relative youth. Like his father and cousin, he is a member of the Banu Hashim clan.
ABBAS: One of Mohammed’s uncles (his father’s brother), though the two are actually very close in age. Originally a successful spice merchant, he converted to Islam shortly before the conquest of Mecca and served in his nephew’s army. His son Abdullah ibn Abbas is only a teenager at the moment, but he will be relevant in the future. From the Banu Hashim.
THE ANSAR: The Muslims from Medina, mostly from the Aws and Khazraj sister tribes. After getting kicked out of Mecca (because the Ansar pledged to assist him in battle and the Quraysh learned of this stunt), Mohammed moved to Medina and brought a couple hundred of his followers from Mecca with him. Medina became the Muslim base of power, and the heads of the two tribes were made essentially subservient to him. Anyone who opposed him was gradually “dealt with”, and now the Ansar are more or less 100% Muslim. Whether their loyalty extends to Mohammed’s entire tribe is an open question.
MUSLIMS WHO ARE UNRELATED TO THE ANSAR OR QURAYSH AND NON-MUSLIMS IN GENERAL:
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PROLOGUE: IN WHICH THE JEWS AND/OR COCCOBACILLI BACTERIA ARE AT IT AGAIN
Mohammed falls sick with a sudden, debilitating illness. We don’t know exactly what it was, and it’s blamed on The Devious Jews in many sources, but it was clearly one of the many infectious diseases that battered the Middle East throughout the sixth and seventh centuries. Islamic sources state that Medina in particular endured some sort of plague around that the time. He’s described as becoming shaky and fever-ridden essentially overnight, and so his companions put him on bed rest.
His condition is not improving, and it soon becomes obvious to everyone, including himself, that he is probably going to die. His followers move him into the home of his youngest and favorite wife Aisha, and he is given around-the-clock care. Mohammed’s fever worsens, though he remains lucid for most of his illness. He spends most of his time in bed, but sometimes he gets up and is sort of dragged around with the help of a couple of guys.
A few things happen around this time that will be relevant later. First of all, due to Mohammed’s illness, he can no longer perform his role as the imam (leader of prayers). So he appoints Abu Bakr to fill in for him. Abu Bakr has been Mo’s bestie and a member of his inner circle for decades, so this doesn’t surprise anyone. But appointing someone the leader of Medina’s prayers has certain implications.
The immediate issue is that Mohammed serves as the head of his state’s government, military, and legal system in addition to serving as the head of its official religion, Islam. Whoever succeeds him as the leader of this state--which is in a constant state of warfare in order to extend its borders--will likewise have to serve a triple role as a religious, military, and political authority figure. This will not be easy, as the new Islamic nation includes a number of people who are not particularly happy about living under its rule, and their numbers grow every month as the attacks continue. Ibn Ishaq’s sira states that before he fell ill, Mohammed had ordered raids both south and north, into Yemeni and Syrian territory. His nation is still almost entirely located in Arabia in this era, but it is getting quite large and complex, and there isn’t really any appropriate bureaucracy to deal with it. Whoever takes over will have to come up with that on his own, and will need everyone to go along with his decisions. Mohammed’s own claim to rulership comes “from Allah”, and it looks like Allah isn’t interested in conferring the same honor on anyone else.
That brings us to the second thing, which is something that did not happen: Mohammed never actually stated who he wanted to succeed him. In hindsight, this is a puzzling decision. By this point in the story, Mohammed knows he is seriously ill and probably going to die. He is pretty old (a grandfather in his sixties). He is very sick, but he’s still able to communicate with people in a clear manner, until, like, the very last day of his life. And he’s always been more than happy to issue orders for how his followers should eat, shit, and breathe, in addition to a litany of other religious, social, and political rules. Why he not only neglected to name a successor but even a process by which that successor could be named by others is a mystery. He just evidentially made virtually no preparations for what would happen after his death. Maybe he was in denial--he obviously wasn’t planning on dying at that point, and had unfinished business related to conquest and/or ethnic cleansing. Maybe he thought he had a little more time. Maybe he believed it was obvious that he wanted Abu Bakr to succeed him. In any case, he never named his “heir”.
There is one hadith narrated by Abdullah ibn Abbas that is sometimes believed to be related to this topic:
When [Mohammed] was on his deathbed and there were some men in the house, he said, 'Come near, I will write for you something after which you will not go astray.' Some of them said, 'Allah's Messenger is seriously ill and you have the Qur'an. Allah's Book is sufficient for us.' So the people in the house differed and started disputing. Some of them said, 'Give him writing material so that he may write for you something after which you will not go astray,' while the others said the other way round. So when their talk and differences increased, Allah's Apostle said, "[Get out]." Ibn `Abbas used to say, "No doubt, it was very unfortunate (a great disaster) that Allah's Messenger was prevented from writing for them that writing because of their differences and noise." 
What was he going to write? (“Wait, I thought he was illiterate!” was he tho) Another hadith says one of his last orders related to the state was just a “remember to FUCK UP the polytheists, lads” thing, and Ibn Ishaq’s sira says that his last command was to "let not two religions be left in the Arabian peninsula". But that can’t be what we’re talking about, because everyone already knew that Operation Bring Everyone Into The Loving Embrace Of Islam was the plan. They didn’t need it written out for them. A third hadith informs us that Umar was one of the people who refused to give Mohammed something to write with, believing him to be delirious and declaring that the Quran contained all the instructions they needed anyway (lolololol). So because of goddamn Umar, we really don’t know for sure what Mohammed meant to do there.
A story involving Ibn Abbas’ father, Abbas, provides a hint as to what some people wanted him to write:
[Abbas said to Ali:] “By Allah, I think that [Mohammed] will die of this illness. I recognise death in the faces of the Banu Abdu'l-Muttalib when they are dying. Let us go to [Mo] and ask him who will have this authority. If it is for us, then we will know that, and if it is for other than us, we will know it and he can advise him to look after us." Ali replied, "By Allah, if we ask him for it and he refuses us, then the people would never give it to us afterwards. By Allah, I will not ask it from the Messenger of Allah." 
Abbas and Ali here are both from Mohammed’s clan, the Banu Hashim. (Abdul-Muttalib was Mo’s grandpa.) When Abbas says that he wants to know if Mohammed’s empire “is for us”, he means for their clan. So while Mohammed is dying, it’s clear that at least some people believe that he might keep the leadership of the state/theocracy/whatever within the family. If Mo did opt for that, Ali was a reasonable choice. He was young--like 30 years younger than Abu Bakr & Pals--but he had been vested with a great deal of military authority already, he had been given the honor of carrying Mohammed’s banner in battle, and he was the closest thing Mohammed had to a son (besides Zayd the Ignominiously Un-Adopted, but he’s dead by now so whatever). Mo was very protective of his almost-son/cousin, as evidenced in this adorable hadith involving slave rape, and described him as the Aaron to his Moses. He told everyone that they must view Ali as their ally (some of Ali’s followers would later interpret this as Ali being declared Mohammed’s heir, though it was obviously not viewed as such at the time).
But again: at this point, Mohammed’s days are numbered, and he hasn’t indicated he wants Ali or anyone else to succeed him. And Abu Bakr is the one leading the prayers. It’s easy to dismiss the whole account above as some dumb Abbasid story--the Abbasids are so named because they are descended from Abbas--but it seems like it either actually happened or was strongly believed to have actually happened by the early Muslims. That’s because there is a sort of competing hadith to the one about the would-be letter declaring Ali the rightful caliph, this one narrated by Aisha and involving a would-be letter declaring Abu Bakr the rightful caliph:
A'isha reported that Allah's Messenger (ﷺ) in his (last) illness asked [her] to call [her father] and her brother too, so that he might write a document, for he feared that someone else might be desirous (of succeeding him) and that some claimant may say: “I have better claim to it”, whereas Allah and the Faithful do not substantiate the claim of anyone but that of Abu Bakr.
So the idea that Mohammed was going to write something related to the succession seems to have truly been A Thing  in the first generation of Islam, with different camps offering different spins on what he wanted to write. Obviously, no letter was ever actually written, thus the problem. But there were plenty of reasons why Abu Bakr also made sense as Mohammed’s successor, apart from his high standing in the community and his appointment as the designated imam. He was fanatically loyal to Mohammed and had joined him in holy broship, so he was viewed as unlikely to “betray” Mo’s final wishes. Mohammed had entrusted him with increasing religious authority even prior to his illness, and in the year following the conquest of Mecca, Abu Bakr had been put in charge of the pilgrimage to the Kaaba. He had also led platoons of Muslim soldiers (more slave rape in that one jsyk!) and was treated as essentially a substitute teacher at times:
A woman came to the Prophet (ﷺ) who ordered her to return to him again. She said, "What if I came and did not find you?" as if she wanted to say, "If I found you dead?" [Mohammed] said, "If you should not find me, go to Abu Bakr."
Plus, the guy was old. Around Mohammed’s age, actually, in a society that prized the wisdom of elders. So Abu Bakr had quite a bit going for him at this juncture. The one thing he permanently lacked was Ali’s close blood relationship to Mohammed--and Ali held multiple advantages here. It wasn’t just that he and Mo were cousins, it was also that Ali was the husband of Mohammed’s daughter and the father of Mohammed’s only grandsons. Abu Bakr’s daughter was Mohammed’s wife, but neither she nor any of Mohammed’s other wives from his polygamous days had any surviving children. Fatima’s boys were the only males around with his blood. (Mo had granddaughters too, from both Fatima and one of his other daughters; the latter granddaughter also ended up marrying Ali.)
A final note is that not all Muslims were eager for either Abu Bakr or Ali to succeed Mohammed. Some weren’t interested in living under permanent Qurayshi rule. In particular, the Ansar of Medina wondered why exactly the Quraysh were seemingly destined to rule them just for being related to Mohammed, when the Ansar were the ones who sheltered Mohammed and his followers for years after the Quraysh kicked him out of town.
As people ponder all of this and the power struggles start to heat up, Mohammed is still in his bed, dying of disease. Oh, and just a teensy problem: some people have gotten word of his illness and think that now is a great time to try their luck and break away from the proto-caliphate. Some are in open revolt and refusing to pay tribute to the state, while others have even declared competing religious movements and have started building up their own armies. Mohammed’s successor, whoever he is, will have a lot to deal with. As all of these people will learn within the next two decades, it turns out running an enormous expansionist state is actually a shitty job with a lot of headaches, many of which involve being stabbed to death.
CHAPTER 1: PRESS ﷺ TO PAY RESPECTS
Despite his followers’ best attempts to cure him by using the “methods” he’d taught them, Crazy Mo dies in Medina around noon on a hot June day in the year 632. He was 62 years old, and had served as the self-declared prophet of Islam for the last two decades of his life.
The Muslims are, naturally, distraught by their leader’s death. Mohammed’s wives immediately begin hitting themselves (uhh... it was a custom) in mourning when his heart stops in Aisha’s room. The news slowly spreads. Some wail; others are frozen in fear. Some like Umar take a more denial-of-reality approach to hearing the rumors. He addresses a crowd of people and begins rambling:
When the apostle was dead, Umar got up and said: "Some of the disaffected will allege that the apostle is dead, but by God he is not dead; he has gone to his Lord as Moses went [for] forty days, returning to them after it was said that he had died. By God, the apostle will return as Moses returned and will cut off the hands and feet of men who allege that the apostle is dead."
“SO THIS MOUNTAIN, SEE?!”, exclaims Umar, who is in a state of mania. “THE MOUNTAIN IS JUST, LIKE, IN AISHA’S APARTMENT. ALLAH MOVED IT THERE, THEN SHRANK IT, THEN MADE IT BIG AGAIN, BUT YOU CAN’T SEE IT FROM HERE--LIKE THE MAP OF NI NO KUNI, YOU KNOW?--AND THE PROPHET CLIMBED IT TO GET SOME TABLETS LIKE MOSES. HE’LL BE BACK WITH THOSE TABLETS, WHICH WILL SAY ‘FUCK Y’ALL’, AND THEN HE’LL MURDER EVERYONE WHO SAID HE WAS DEAD. YOU’LL SEE!!!”
“That sounds incorrect, but I don’t know enough about mountains to say it is false,” decides an onlooker, thoughtfully.
Abu Bakr pushes through the crowd that has gathered to gawk at Umar. He visits Aisha’s room to observe Mohammed’s corpse and confirm his death. Satisfied with the deadness of the body, he returns to Medina’s center to put a stop to his buddy’s maniacal ranting:
Umar was still speaking and he said gently, "Umar, be quiet." But Umar refused and went on talking, and when Abu Bakr saw [this] he said: "O men, if anyone worships Mohammed, Mohammed is dead, but if anyone worships Allah, Allah is alive". Then he recited this verse: "Mohammed is nothing but an apostle. Apostles have passed away before him." By God, it was as though the people did not know that this verse had come down until Abu Bakr recited it that day.
(Hmmm at that last part.)
“Umar,” says Abu Bakr, gently.
“BRO! YOU’RE WITH ME, RIGHT? EVERYONE’S SAYING ‘THAT’S THE DUMBEST FUCKING THING I’VE EVER HEARD’, BUT THEY SAID THE SAME THING ABOUT THE FLYING DONKEY, YOU WERE THE ONLY ONE WHO BELIEVED!! NOW YOU’VE GOT MY BACK, RIGHT?”
“Of course,” Abu Bakr replies, sweetly. He then slaps Umar across the face.
Stunned, Umar shuts up for a moment and everyone accepts that Mohammed is, in fact, dead and had not somehow gone missing inside his wife’s bedroom.
Mohammed’s only surviving child, his daughter Fatima, is obviously among the most devastated by his passing. Fatima’s mother Khadija had died when she was still a young girl, her sisters all died of disease within the previous five years, and none of her brothers survived their childhoods. Even Zayd the Ignominiously Un-Adopted is gone. So she is the last of her nuclear family at the age of, like, 25 or younger. Her husband Ali is presumably equally distraught, but as one of Mohammed’s closest surviving male relatives, he has to deal with the burial arrangements. Abbas helps Ali wash Mohammed’s corpse, in keeping with Islamic custom. They respect Mohammed’s never-nude wishes and keep his privates covered during the process.
Meanwhile, the news that Mohammed is dead has spread throughout the entire city. The issues that people had previously been grumbling about, related to the succession to Mohammed, immediately start spilling out into the open. The Islamic empire is engaging in constant, ongoing battles--if a new leader is going to be chosen, it has to happen now. There isn’t any time to waste.
But not everyone is convinced that there needs to be a singular leader. Some of the Muslims believe that Mohammed was irreplaceable in terms of being one single authority figure to whom all Muslims were required to pledge their absolute loyalty. He “earned” that loyalty by being The Prophet, and he was The Last Prophet. He couldn’t have a real successor. People who followed this line of thinking began seriously considering the possibility of de-centralizing the new empire, so that different Muslim tribal confederations would be more or less self-governing, as they had been prior to Islam. After all, Arabs were accustomed to living in tribes, not bureaucratic nations. Why not just return to the way things were, with slightly more attacks on polytheistic shrines?
The Ansar are intrigued by this possible outcome. They know that if there is one single ruler, he is doubtlessly going to come from the Quraysh tribe, and they’ll be relegated to the back seat forever. In the interest of preserving their autonomy (or rather renewing it, now that Mo’s dead), they quietly arrange a meeting to discuss this problem. The goal of the gathering is to agree upon a leader for their community, with Saad, a chief from one of their tribes, being the current frontrunner. They invite the senior members of their tribes to the meeting and pointedly do not invite any of the Quraysh. But some of the latter get word of the gathering, and they move to crash the party immediately.
I (Umar) said to Abu Bakr, 'Let's go to these Ansari brothers of ours.' .... we reached them at the shed of (a clan of the Ansar, the) Bani Sa`da.
After we sat for a while, the Ansar's speaker said, ‘...To proceed, we are Allah's Ansar (helpers) and the majority of the Muslim army, while you, the emigrants, are a small group and some people among you came with the intention of preventing us from practicing this matter (of caliphate) and depriving us of it.'
When the speaker had finished, I intended to speak as I had prepared a speech which I liked ... Abu Bakr said, 'Wait a while.' I disliked to make him angry. So Abu Bakr himself gave a speech ... he said, 'O Ansar! You deserve all (the qualities that you have attributed to yourselves), but this question (of Caliphate) is only for the Quraish as they are the best of the Arabs as regards descent and home, and I am pleased to suggest that you choose either of these two men, so take the oath of allegiance to either of them as you wish.’ And then Abu Bakr held my hand and Abu Ubaida bin al-Jarrah's hand
“Hello friends,” Abu Bakr begins. “Y’all are great. Truly. Thanks for opening your homes to us, surrendering control of your city to our cult leader, and sacrificing your money and lives in battle on his behalf. But here’s the thing, folks: we’re better than you are. I’m sorry but these are the facts. We’re richer. We’re from a more well-developed city. Our tribe is more respected. Abraham himself built a mosque where we live. Mohammed was one of us. Frankly, we’re also better-looking. That’s very important for good PR.”
The Ansar stare blankly at him.
Undeterred, Abu Bakr continues: “Now, we’re not going to force you to follow anyone. There is no compulsion in religion. You have a choice here--between two of our tribe’s most famed assholes!” He grabs two individuals from the crowd and presents them. “On your left: Umar ibn al-Khattab, who many of you know as a short-tempered and over-emotional manchild. On your right: this other guy named Abu Ubaida, who honestly hasn’t done much beyond fight in some battles at this point in the story. I guess there was that time he killed his own father while we were trying to raid one of our tribe’s caravans.... anyway. What are y’alls thoughts?”
[Crickets.]
And then one of the Ansar said, 'I am the pillar on which the camel with a skin disease (eczema) rubs itself to satisfy the itching (i.e., I am a noble), and I am as a high class palm tree! O Quraish. There should be one ruler from us and one from you.'
“OK... first of all, what in the name of Christ is that metaphor,” Abu Bakr replies. “We’re also better at poetic imagery than you are. Forgot to add that, so thanks for reminding me. Second of all, as I just told you, we’re above you. Who the fuck lied to y’all and said you were on our level? Lmao losers”
“We’re not better than fucking UMAR?”, the Ansar retort. “Or this other guy who will remain B-tier in relevancy throughout this entire story?! YOU WOULDN’T EVEN HAVE THIS EMPIRE WITHOUT US, YOU UNGRATEFUL CLOWNS!”
Chaos erupts in the hall. People are five seconds away from throwing hands. Suddenly...!
Then there was a hue and cry among the gathering and their voices rose so that I was afraid there might be great disagreement, so I said, 'O Abu Bakr! Hold your hand out.' He held his hand out and I pledged allegiance to him, and then all the emigrants gave the Pledge of allegiance and so did the Ansar afterwards. And so we became victorious
Umar dramatically declares his loyalty to Abu Bakr in the chaos, recognizing him as the new leader of the Islamic empire, henceforth known as the caliph. Frankly speaking, it probably wasn’t that much of a shock to Abu Bakr himself, as he knew that Umar (and... basically everyone else) wanted him to be the first caliph. The whole offering Umar and Abu Ubaida as options thing was just false modesty he knew would be shot down in favor of himself, imo. But that’s my hot take, not something the sources say.
Anyway, everyone pauses for a moment to consider this. It probably seems clear to the Ansar at this point that the Quraysh aren’t gonna just leave them alone and let them do what they want; they will have to pledge loyalty to one of these guys eventually. Given that their previous options were Umar and Irrelevant Guy, Abu Bakr likely appears pretty good in comparison. So perhaps it’s not surprising that most of the Ansar present at this gathering decide: “if we gotta serve one of these assholes, might as well be this one”. They sigh and agree to recognize Abu Bakr as the caliph. (Poor Saad gets roughed up afterwards, something Umar considers punishment for daring to even consider himself for the position of caliph.)
So now the whole succession issue is behind us, right? Well... no. We have a slight problem here: Abu Bakr, Umar, and Abu Ubaida may have crashed the Ansar’s party, but zero members of the Banu Hashim were present at the impromptu coronation of their kinsman’s successor. Because they’re busy preparing his corpse for burial. Oh well!
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Team Abu Bakr has a more pressing concern, namely telling everyone else in Medina (and those hundreds of thousands of other people living in the caliphate, but who gives a shit about them?) that they have a new ruler. So the next day, Umar and Abu Bakr direct a general assembly to gather in Medina’s mosque, where the people are told to give Abu Bakr their allegiance. First, Umar gives a brief speech in which he basically says that this decision hadn’t come from Mohammed, but is nonetheless the evident “will of Allah”:
O men, yesterday I said something based on my own opinion and which I do not find in God's book, nor was it something which the apostle entrusted to me; but I thought that the apostle would order our affairs until he was the last of us alive. ... God has placed your affairs in the hands of the best one among you ... so arise and swear fealty to him.
The residents of Medina do so, and then Abu Bakr gives his own speech in which he asks the people to “obey me as long as I obey God and His apostle”. Then he leads them in prayer, acting as the caliph for the first time. The commoners apparently don’t have much of a problem with any of this, or at least none are bold enough to disagree with the leaders of their tribes after the latter swore loyalty to Abu Bakr in the hall. So that takes care of that situation.
But the larger issue, namely the fact that the Banu Hashim and their sympathizers have had basically no say in this process, is still unresolved. Mohammed’s burial occurs the day after the general oath of fealty to Abu Bakr, with the men of his extended family lowering him into his grave. They’re now ready to catch up on everything they’ve missed in the past couple of days. It probably isn’t anything important, since the people of Medina have no doubt been so preoccupied with mourning Mohammed’s death that they’ve hardly had time to do anything else.
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(On to part 2!!)
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scotianostra · 5 years
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It's not often I can combine two events in the same post, but the consequences of the first event had massive ramifications and ended in the second event two years later, stay with me it will make sense.........
On January 30th 1647 the Scottish Covenanters marched north and back to Scotland having handed King Charles I over to the English in return for a payment of £200,000. 
It was the beginning of the end for the King and had started on 5the previous spring when Charles surrendered to the Scottish Covenanter army at Southwell and the first Civil War came to an end.
The Stewarts believed in the divine right to reign, granted to them by God and having been placed on the throne by God, Charles could not envisage a world in which he did not regain his throne by either political or military means. It was an attitude out of step with the times. I won't go into all the English Civil War thing, it was a bit of a side play for us Scots, yes the Covenanter Army was asked to help the English, but they had their own agenda, Charles had forced English Book of Common Prayer on the Scottish church, widespread riots broke out due to fears that the book was Popish. When Oliver Cromwell asked the Scots to help the main aim of Alexander Leslie and his religiously devout troops, was to rid the church of this threat and separate the King from interfering in Church affairs, on surrendering Charles was taken north where the Scots implored him to sign the National Covenant which demanded a parliament and a Church General Assembly that were free from influence by the King, if he did so Alexander Leslie, the Scottish general promised his army would get behind him against the Parliamentarians, Charles refused and his fate was sealed.
The Scottish military in England were feeling uncomfortable as a mercenary army in the land of the `auld enemy`, and an unpaid one at that. They had been forced to forage and take what was needed and were reviled as stealing the bread and butter out of childrens` hands. The Scots felt sorely treated by such abuse and ungratefulness from a people they had come to liberate, and were further disappointed by the Independents being prepared to allow toleration to all sects . In practice the Solemn League and Covenant was already broken. With Charles refusing to sign the Covenant they had a bargaining chip. Leslie wanted a payment amounting to some one and a half million pounds, but was prepared to accept £400,000 in two installments. This was voted them by the English Parliament when they also declared that by English law it would be a cause for war if the king was removed from the country, meaning if he was taken North into Scotland they would pursue them. Again the King was asked to sign the Covenant and the Scots were ready to do battle for him. When Charles refused it was a foregone conclusion that he would be handed over on the understanding that the English would do him no harm. On 3 February 1647 the captive king left the Scottish camp for Holdenby House, Northamptonshire, escorted by military wearing laurel on their head pieces.
Charles had not given up hope of reaching an agreement and the Scots coming to his rescue and agreed what is known as the Engagement.
The majority of nobles in Scotland, led by the Duke of Hamilton, and the Earl of Lauderdale, were sympathetic towards Charles and determined to restore him to his constitutional position. Charles, meanwhile had been faced with new laws in England that took away his command of the forces of the Crown and his veto over Parliament. The options of the Scots were more palatable and on 26 December 1647 he had signed the ` Engagement ` under which the Scots would provide an army to invade England. The King undertook to present the Solemn League and Covenant and the National Covenant to Parliament for ratification. He also undertook to accept Presbyterian government for a three year trial. So secret was the agreement that it was wrapped in lead sheeting and buried in the garden of the King`s residence at Carisbrook Castle on the Isle of Wight, where he was under house arrest.
On 11 April 1648 an ultimatum was given the English demanding the freedom of King Charles; the army to disband, the establishment of Presbyterianism and discontinuance of the Book of Common Prayer. For the English this sealed his fate. Before this, Charles had been regarded as an essential component of any peace settlement. The Engagement precipitated the Second Civil War, the English now saw Charles as the 'man of blood' an an impediment to lasting peace, he had to go.
Under pressure from the Army, Parliament placed Charles on trial in January 1649. Once the decision to place Charles on trial had been made, the result was a foregone conclusion. The charge was high treason against the realm of England. At his trial, Charles refuted the legitimacy of the court and refused to enter a plea. Not withstanding the absence of a plea, the court rendered a verdict of guilty and a sentence of death declaring:
"That the king, for the crimes contained in the charge, should be carried back to the place from whence he came, and thence to the place of execution, where his head should be severed from his body."
And so it was to come, the second event......
January 30th, 1649 was a bitterly cold day. Charles went to his execution wearing two heavy shirts so that he might not shiver in the cold and appear to be afraid.
The following account of the event comes from an anonymous observer and begins as the doomed King addresses the crowd from the scaffold:
"[As for the people,] truly I desire their liberty and freedom as much as anybody whomsoever; but I must tell you that their liberty and freedom consist in having of government, those laws by which their life and their goods may be most their own. It is not for having share in government, sirs; that is nothing pertaining to them; a subject and a sovereign are clear different things. And therefore until they do that, I mean that you do put the people in that liberty, as I say, certainly they will never enjoy themselves. Sirs, it was for this that now I am come here. If I would have given way to an arbitrary way, for to have all laws changed according to the power of the sword, I needed not to have come here; and therefore I tell you (and I pray God it be not laid to your charge) that I am the martyr of the people. . .
And to the executioner he said, 'I shall say but very short prayers, and when I thrust out my hands - '
Then he called to the bishop for his cap, and having put it on, asked the executioner, 'Does my hair trouble you?' who desired him to put it all under his cap; which, as he was doing by the help of the bishop and the executioner, he turned to the bishop, and said, 'I have a good cause, and a gracious God on my side.'
The bishop said, 'There is but one stage more, which, though turbulent and troublesome, yet is a very short one. You may consider it will soon carry you a very great way; it will carry you from earth to heaven; and there you shall find to your great joy the prize you hasten to, a crown of glory.'
The king adjoins, 'I go from a corruptible to an incorruptible crown; where no disturbance can be, no disturbance in the world.'
The bishop: 'You are exchanged from a temporal to an eternal crown, - a good exchange.'
Then the king asked the executioner, 'Is my hair well?' And taking off his cloak and George [the jeweled pendant of the Order of the Garter, bearing the figure of St. George], he delivered his George to the bishop. . .
Then putting off his doublet and being in his waistcoat, he put on his cloak again, and looking upon the block, said to the executioner, 'You must set it fast.'
The executioner: 'It is fast, sir.'
King: 'It might have been a little higher.'
Executioner: 'It can be no higher, sir.'
King: 'When I put out my hands this way, then - '
Then having said a few words to himself, as he stood, with hands and eyes lift up, immediately stooping down he laid his neck upon the block; and the executioner, again putting his hair under his cap, his Majesty, thinking he had been going to strike, bade him, 'Stay for the sign.'
Executioner: 'Yes, I will, and it please your Majesty.'
After a very short pause, his Majesty stretching forth his hands, the, executioner at one blow severed his head from his body; which, being held up and showed to the people, was with his body put into a coffin covered with black velvet and carried into his lodging.
His blood was taken up by divers persons for different ends: by some as trophies of their villainy; by others as relics of a martyr; and in some hath had the same effect, by the blessing of God, which was often found in his sacred touch when living."
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walkthroughtheword · 3 years
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Reading for August 17th                                Judges 10&11 CHAPTER TEN
It is almost as if the editor of Judges built in a chapter for the reader to catch their breath.  Note that Tola and Jair are judges but neither fight military campaigns nor does the land enter peace.  Keep in mind, these judges are regional, not national figures. 
Next we are reintroduced to two antagonists; the Ammonites and the Philistines.  The Ammonites are pushing the tribes from Gilead (east of the Jordan) from the east and the Philistines are gaining strength from the west coast of the Mediterranean.  Their incursions are directly due to the apostasy of Israel.  God is angry and content to leave his unfaithful people to live in the consequences of their choice to reject him. 
Finally, after eighteen years the people cry out to the Lord; they are well aware of the nature of their transgressions.  The people have cried out to God before but this is different.  This time they repent, put aside foreign gods and serve God. 
That being said, Ammon is ready to attack Gilead.  At a strategy meeting at Mizpah, it is decided that whichever tribe has the courage to attack the Ammonites first will rule over the others in the region.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Israel has failed in both conquest and covenant and the people group God called to be “set apart” for the purpose of bringing salvation to the world were quickly becoming just another set of “ites” in a sea of “ites.” Chapter 2: 12 reads, “And they angered the Lord.”  Today we enter the quickly deteriorating swirl of the Judges by meeting a man named Jephthah. 
V. 1 Jephthah was a great warrior Jephthah hails from Gilead which roughly runs east of the Jordan River north and south from the Sea of Galilee to the Dead Sea.  It controlled the north/south King’s Highway trade route and was known for grapes, olives and a particular ointment called the Balm of Gilead.  He is smart, enfranchised and skilled in warfare which makes him well known in the region. His father was Gilead and his mother was a prostitute Jephthah is apparently the first born but he comes from an illegitimate mother, which the author casts more as unfortunate than nefarious.  It is the chink in an otherwise strong suit of armor but it is the chink that brings him down.
V. 2 Gilead also had several legitimate sons who drove Jephthah off the land and denied him any part of his father’s inheritance When his father dies, his younger, jealous and lesser gifted brothers make legal claims that disinherit their notable brother and strip him of position, name, power and influence.  They could have never beat him in battle so they beat him in court.
V. 3 Jephthah lived in Tob and soon had a large band of rebels following him Jephthah is forced to live on the margins of society and soon draws an army of similarly alienated men who live lives of hunters, mercenaries and raiders.  They camp in the mountains on the border of Ammon and Gilead. 
V. 4-6 When the Ammonites attacked, the leaders sent for Jephthah and asked them to lead them in a limited capacity  It appears there were no generals in Gilead with the character, strength, skills and courage to raise and lead an army, so the political leaders made Jephthah an offer(ish).  He replied:
V. 7-9 “You have stripped me of the very social standing required to lead.  So here is my counter-offer: I will come and lead you and God gives me victory, I will not only be given back my place in society but I will be your ruler.”  Jephthah does not let his pride keep him from his destiny.  Jephthah has learned, as only one can who has lost everything, that if there is to be restoration come to him, it will come from the Lord.  That however does not keep him from negotiating; rather than accept the limited title of chieftain offered him, he negotiates the role of ruler of chieftains. 
V. 10 “The Lord is our witness.” Now the deal is struck and it is sealed in the name of God.  The invocation of Yahweh is of interest here because it appears that both the people and Jephthah know God, respect God and place him as a witness to their agreement. 
V. 11 So Jephthah became their commander and took the oath before the Lord in Mizpah  With Jephthah sworn in, large and in-charge, he now begins his executive duties and surprisingly, first attempts diplomacy.  In the water of the Judges, this is seen as good leadership and the King of Moab claims an ancient boundary quarrel to be at the center of the conflict.  Jephthah shows an excellent grasp of history and disputes the claims of Ammon but verse 28 reminds us that the negotiations are a farce, Ammon is going to attack regardless of the facts.  Now that war is inevitable, Jephthah shifts from a ambassador to general and travels Israel recruiting an army. 
V. 29 At that time the Spirit of the Lord came upon Jephthah and he recruited and led an army against Ammon The Hebrew reads, “God’s spirit happened to” Jephthah and he raises an army, not by provocation like Ehud but by the Spirit like Gideon. 
V. 30-31 And Jephthah vowed that if the Lord gave him victory that the first thing that came out of his house upon his return would be given to the Lord with a burnt offering There is no need for this foolish vow, God has already promised victory and the Spirit has already rested upon Jephthah.  This literally means that the first thing that comes from my house will “belong to Yahweh.” 
V. 32-34 God gave Israel the victory and they drove Ammon from the land When Jephthah returned home, his only child, a daughter came out to meet him, dancing for joy The battle won, Jephthah now returns home, not doubt thinking of his vow.  His mistake is in thinking God gave him victory because of his vow, that is frankly superstition, but now he feels bound to uphold it.  I am guessing he was hoping a dog he really didn’t like would come out of that house first.  No such luck.  Bounding from the house is his only child and she is clearly the apple of his eye.  She is rejoicing in her father’s victory but the sight of her causes pain, not joy for Jephthah for his foolish vow is about to change everything. 
V. 35 Jephthah cried out in anguish, “My heart is broken for I made a vow to the Lord that I cannot take back” The mature dialog between father and daughter make it clear that she is not a child on one hand and not of marrying age on the other for she is denoted a virgin. 
V. 38 So he allowed his daughter to go into the hills with her friends to mourn the fact she would never bear children Most of us were taught that Jephthah’s daughter is mourning her life but that is not what the text says, it says she is mourning the fact she will never have children.  Could there be more here than we have always assumed?  Possibly. 
V. 39 When she returned home her father kept his vow and she died a virgin. There are two plausible options here.  The traditional option is that Jephthah offered his daughter to Yahweh as a burnt offering and this becomes a cautionary, utterly disturbing and tragic tale.  The other is that the girl was not sacrificed at all but given to the service of Yahweh.  And in her case, that meant she was not allowed to marry, was cloistered for religious service (like a nun) and thus died from old age but died a virgin.  The tragedy in this scenario is that Jephthah would not have children from his only child to carry on his name.  This raises the possibility that Jephthah did not lose a daughter as we so long presumed, he lost a legacy. 
And this brings me to Rule Two of Biblical Interpretation: When two equally plausible and supportable Biblical scenarios are presented, go with the one that helps you sleep.  I’ll bet Jephthah’s daughter made a fine servant to God.
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risalei-nur · 6 years
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TAFSIR: Risale-i Nur: The Letters Collection:
An Addendum to the Sixteenth Letter.Part2
The Fifth: To claim a right before those who claim a wrong to be right, and to apply to them, is a wrong. It is disrespectful towards right. I do not want to perpetrate such a wrong and show disrespect for right. And that’s that!
The Sixth: The distress and difficulty the worldly have caused me has not been due to politics, because they know I do not meddle in politics but flee from them. Rather, knowingly or unknowingly, they torment me on account of aggressive atheism because I adhere to religion. In which case, to apply to them infers regretting religion and flattering the cause of aggressive atheism.
Moreover, divine determining, which is just, would punish me through their tyrannical hand if I applied to them and had recourse to them, for they oppress me because I am religious. As for divine determining, from time to time it represses me due to my hypocrisy before the worldly, because I am deficient in religion and in sincerity. Since this is so, for the time being I cannot be saved from this distress. If I apply to the worldly, divine determining would say: “Hypocrite! Pay the penalty for applying!” And if I do not apply, the worldly say: “You don’t recognize us, go on suffering difficulties!”
The Seventh Reason: It is well-known that the official’s duty is to allow harmful individuals no opportunity to cause harm and to assist those who are beneficial. Whereas the official who took me into custody approached me, an elderly guest at the door of the grave, when I was expounding a subtle aspect of belief contained in the phrase “There is no god but God,” as though I were perpetrating some misdemeanour, although he had not been to me for a long time previously. He caused the sincere unfortunate who was listening to be deprived of the instruction, and made me angry. But there were other people there, and he gave them no importance. Then when they acted discourteously in a way that would poison the life of the village, he started to be gracious and appreciative towards them.
Furthermore, it is well-known that someone in prison who has committed a hundred crimes can meet with the official supervising him whether he be of high rank or low. But during this last year, although two people important in the eyes of the national government who were charged with supervising me have passed by my house several times, they have absolutely neither met with me nor asked after me. At first I supposed that they avoided me out of enmity, then it transpired that it was due to their fearful suspicions; they were fleeing from me as though as I were going to gobble them up. So to recognize a government whose members and officials are like them and have recourse to it and apply to it, is not sensible but a futile abasement. If it had been the Old Said, he would have said like ‘Antara:
The very water of life becomes Hell through abasement, Whereas Hell with dignity becomes a place of pride.8
The Old Said no longer exists and the New Said considers it meaningless to talk with the worldly. Let their world be the end of them! They can do what they like. He is silent, saying, we shall be judged together with them at the Last Judgement.
The Eighth Reason for my not applying: According to the rule, “The result of illicit love is merciless torment,” divine determining, which is just, torments me through the tyrannous hand of the worldly, because I incline towards them and they are not worthy of it. So saying, “I deserve this torment,” I remain silent. For in the Great War I fought as the commander of a volunteer regiment. Applauded by the Commander-in-Chief of the army and Enver Pafla, I sacrificed my valuable students and friends. I was wounded and taken prisoner. Returning from captivity, I cast myself into danger through such works as The Seven Steps, aiming them at the heads of the British, who had occupied Istanbul. I assisted those who now hold me without reason in this torturous captivity. As for them, they punish me in this way for that help. Those friends here cause me in three months the hardship and distress I suffered in three years as a prisoner-of-war in Russia. Nor did the Russians prevent me from giving religious instruction, although they regarded me as a Kurdish militia commander, a cruel man who had slaughtered Cossacks and prisoners. I used to instruct the great majority of my ninety fellow-officer prisoners. One time, the Russian commander came and listened. Because he did not know Turkish, he thought it was political instruction and put a stop to it. Then later he gave permission. Also, in the same barracks we made a room into a mosque and I used to lead the prayers. They did not interfere at all. They did not prevent me from mixing, or from communicating, with the others. Whereas my friends here, my fellow citizens and co-religionists and those for whose benefits in the form of religious belief I have struggled, have held me in distressing captivity not for three years but for six, for absolutely no reason and although they know I have severed all my relations with the world. They have prevented me mixing with others. They have prevented me from giving religious instruction despite my having a certificate, and even from giving private instruction in my room. They have prevented me from communicating with others. They have even barred me from the mosque which I repaired and where I acted as prayer-leader for four years, although I had the necessary certificate. And now, to deprive me of the merit of performing the prayers in congregation, they do not accept me as prayer- leader even for three private individuals, my permanent congregation and brothers of the hereafter.
Furthermore, if, although I do not want it, someone is to call me good, the official who holds me in surveillance is jealous and angry. Thinking he will destroy my influence, he entirely unscrupulously takes precautions and pesters me in order to curry favour with his superiors.
Who can someone in such a position have recourse to anyone other than God Almighty? If the judge is also the claimant, of course he cannot complain to him. Come on, you say, what can we say to this? You say what you like, I say this: there are many dissemblers among these friends of mine. A dissembler is worse than an unbeliever. That is the reason they make me suffer what the infidel Russian did not make me suffer.
You unfortunates! What have I done to you and what I am doing? I am trying to save your belief and am serving your eternal happiness! It means that my service is not sincere and purely for God’s sake so that it has the reverse effect. In return, you torment me at every opportunity. For sure, we shall meet at the Last Judgement. I say:
God is enough for us and the best of protectors.(3:173)
The best of lords and the best of helpers. (8:40; 22:78)
The Eternal One, He is the Eternal One!
Said Nursi
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ramrodd · 6 years
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Top 10 CRAZIEST inventions of the Roman Army!!
COMMENTARY:
Let's say you were a senior centurion, roughly the equivalent of a Sergeant Major/Chief Warrant Officer, in Caesarea when Tiberius was Emperor and Pontius Pilate was your boss. You were a hereditary member of the Praetorian Guard, aka "The Italian Cohort", because you were a natural born Italian. You were at the climax phase of your career, but you could stay on the payroll the rest of your life without doing much more but keep busy in a centurion kind of way.
You had come to Palestine with Pilate, who. like Julius Caesar, was on an executive track in the Praetorian Guard. You had enlisted in the Italian Cohort, like Fergal O'Hanlon, you wandered away to take your own part in the Patriot's Game, though you joined the occupying force of the world and spent a great deal of time spying on the rebels in town. And crucifying them when you knew what you needed to know and you caught.
One of the things that kept you busy was running Pilate's intelligence services. Your actual boss, in many ways, was the spy master of the Praetorian Guard, Theophilus, back in Rome. Theophilus reported to the Praetorian Perfect, Sejanus, and was part of the functions Sejanus installed in the Praetorian Guard as part of his plot to become Emperor at Tiberius's expense. but, at the time you were in Palestine, you were busy implementing those same reforms at the various regional headquarters all over the world. You were the leading edge of what would become the Army General Staff in the American Pentagon and what ever ambition Sejanus may have had was above your pay grade and, as it turns out, above Pilate's pay grade.
About five years into Pilate's tenure (you will retire in Caesarea and maintain a little summer villa in Sopphoris, which combined the delights of the Galilee without all the Jewish stuff cluttering up the market place and la dolce vita of the region), a couple of things happen at the same time: you begin to surveille a Jewish holy man associated with another agitator called by the soldiers and spies "The Dunker" for doing some Jewish mumbo-jumbo down by the river and half-drowning his recruits to get in to his gang and Sejanus dragged out of the Senate and executed by decimation as an enemy of Tiberius.
This Jew, who your spies identified as Jesus of Nazarus, a little hamlet just down the road from Sopphuris, was the real thing. You didn't know what that real thing was, but He was about His Duty in the same way you are and, the longer you watched Him, the less dangerous He appeared (he could put a legion of fit young men the field, organize them and feed them in the blink of an eye, but the only thing He seemed to want to do was to entertain them and give them a good meal.
And, oh yes, heal people. Your own houseboy had become sick with some wretched local contagion and, on the advice of one of your Jewish intelligence assets, the leader of a Jewish community center you were financing as a listening post, suggested you ask this guy to do his magic and get your boy back on his feet. You owned him, the boy, but you loved him as your own son and would free him at his majority. So you did and, lo and behold, this Jesus told you your love for the boy healed him and that you were first among equals among the saints of the Jews. You don't know what THAT means, but is has something to do with being a faithful servant to Tiberius and a leader of your own servants. This Jesus was not afraid of you, nor angry, but pleased to meet you. It's like He had found something in a Roman soldier He couldn't find among his own people.
That was two years ago and you kept Him in the corner of your eye while you busied your self with stringing out your intelligence network out along the trade routes running across the land bridge into Africa from Europe and Asia.  Your encounter with this Jewish faith healer has quckened your interest in the Jewish religion and your listening post allowed you to indulge this fascination with their legends and traditions and apparently God-given need to argue over stories out of the great scrolls they trotted out on their idle day.  You knew their God, this Yaweh: you had heard Her ululations over the frenzy of battle, urging you forward "Follow ME! Follow ME!" and, onward, Roman soldier, you went. There was a great deal of their lives you couldn't share or witness because, well, you had to hack off part of your dick for full membership and you were perfectly content to keep it at the level of a hobby. You like building things and you hear gossip that helps you connect the dots with the material coming in from your spies. All in all, this Jesus was something of a Will O' the Wisp, not because He was concerned about Rome but from getting stabbed in the back by religious rivals. These Jews argue about everything.
And the fallout from the Sejanus purge added the personal interest of Tiberius in everything Sejanus touched, especially the executive side of the Praetorian Guard. Tiberius wasn't concerned by the reforms, in fact , endorsed them, but there were issues of loyalty that needed to be sorted out and Pilate had received a number of directives on dealing with the Jewish authorities that somewhat blunted your own effectiveness. Sometimes, it was useful to hack up a couple hundred locals just to make sure they are paying attention. Especially in Jerusalem, where arguing was the stock in trade of their fabulus temple, something Agustus would have erected in Rome. They were touchy about everything to do with Rome all the crosses in the world couldn't discourage and Tiberius ordered Pilate to accept it.
So, when this Jesus shows up on the doorsteps of the Pratorium in Jerusalem with a Jewish lynch mob demanding a lynching from Pilate, Pilate had his marching orders to kiss the Jews' ass and do what they wanted. You had never really briefed Pilate on Jesus because he wasn't a problem and Pilate had nothing but contempt for their religion. I mean, what god expects you to remain idle one day out of 7 ?  It was enough that they had a special legal arrangement to pray for the Emperor without sacrificing to him. Having to do their wet work for them with this harmless religious entertainer was the final insult. Pilate had the last laugh when he crowned this hapless man "King of the Jews"! Those Jews did back flips and chewed their scraggly beards in rage, but complaining to the Emperor that Pilate had fulfilled their request wasn't possible.
So, you hung this guy out to dry and Pilate was able to get another little jab at the Jews by letting friends of Jesus bury Him properly instead of leaving Him for the dogs or to rot on the tree. The Jews wouldn't leave it alone, though, and demanded Pilate post soldiers to keep the friends of Jesus from stealing His body and making trouble. So, you did and figured that would be the end of it,
But the next morning, when the soldiers came back from guarding the tomb, they had an incredible story about this Jesus coming back alive and escaping with the help of angels. Sixteen soldiers and the centurion in charge all had exactly same story about this Jesus getting away. Everything they said was incredible, but a lot of strange stuff happened around this Jesus and your first thought was to cover everybodies' ass if the question of someone walking away from a crucifixion and falling asleep while on duty came up.
You sent them to the Jews in charge of the lynch mob and explain what had happened. This was their mess and they needed to protect your men by protecting their own political interests, That worked out better than you expected, when the Jews gave them a healthy chunk of change to support the official Temple version that Jesus' followers had stolen the body.
The next thing you did was to take the story to Pilate and to prepare a report to Rome explaining what had happened and what background you had and let Tiberius know this was going on, which you sent up the chain of command to Theophilus. Another difference after Sejanus' execution was that Tiberius got the report, which he took to the Senate.
The way you know that Tiberius got the report is because everyone in Rome began to call the people who were followers of this Jesus "Christians", who had already begun to show up in Rome by the time Tiberius addressed the Senate. Your report gave Tiberius the word and Tiberius gave it to Rome.
As an invention of Roman soldiers, "Christian" would come to define the empire. Now, that's some CRAZY!
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temporary-fo4-blog · 7 years
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Pre-War Companions P2
Dogmeat: This pup is a natural born guard/attack dog. When he was old enough, he was trained to be a K9 unit at the Boston Police Department. Dogmeat was eventually paired up with Canine Officer Valentine, they’ve quickly grew a bond together not only as partners but as family. Officer Valentine and his fury partner have taken down many badies and cracked many cases through the years, from tracking down illegal chems to finding missing people, this duo was inseparable. After injuring his paw, Dogmeat was now unfit for duty and had an early retirement. Luckily his old partner took him in as he was promoted to detective. Dogmeat now spends his retirement years helping his heart broken partner track down his fiancé’s murder on the down low; all while messing with detective Valentine’s cat.
Hancock: John was quite the hooligan back in the days of his youth. He was an alright kid, living in the city with his parents and his older brother. John’s brother always picked on him while John got his revenge by either pranking or embarrassing him. Their father often took them out of the city for a camping trip and go fishing, John generally had a decent childhood. When puberty started kicking in, John became quite the reckless teenager he was expected to be, whether it’s giving his professors a hard time, skipping class to go out and party, experimenting with drugs and getting high with friends, and hooking up with whom ever catches his eye; he somehow always manages to charm his way out of trouble...yup, John McDonough is the fun friend. To avoid getting drafted into the army, both he and his brother went to college, while his brother went to all his classes and studied, presuming a career in politics, while John of course, when to the frat parties. After a heated argument, John left home and stayed with a few friends in the mean time, while making money by selling drugs, making sex toys, and charging people entrance for parties. After a while, John figures he should get his shit together before his life goes down hill, in the mean time hopefully his devilish charm and that pretty face of his aids him to a better future.
MacCready: Robert never knew his parents, he grew up in a DC orphanage with a bunch of other children who’ve come to respect him for his leadership. RJ was a nightmare of a child, always starting up trouble with the other kids whether it’s picking fights with each other, starting up shenanigans, drinking beer, vandalizing public properties, or shooting the other kids with a BB gun. He wasn’t any better in his pre teen years especially with his raging hormones. He was introduced to cigarettes when he was 13 and developed a smoking habit eventually nocking up his high school sweet heart and had no way to support his new family from the looks of his grades, so he eventually enlisted into the army as a sniper paratrooper, the best of his squad, even though he wasn’t the most physically capable soldier, had a hard time following orders from his drill instructors, and didn’t get to see much action out in the field(he prefers it that way). Unfortunately MacCready was traumatized by the death of his wife when she gave birth to their son and started finding comfort on chain smoking, drinking until shit-faced, and purchasing services from prostitutes for sometime until he had to take matters into his own hands when he realized how much his new son relied on him, motivating him to get his act together. After the war, Robert worked at a office job for a while,(he hated it)so he applied for a job at a RobCo factory in order to support his son as a single parent. RJ now wakes up early in the morning to take Duncan to school and work a 10 hour shift, then heads home to pay the babysitter, tuck Duncan in for the night, and finally rewards himself with a cold beer and calls it a night then heads to bed to begin the day all over again. 
Nick: Valentine had a normal childhood with a few hardships along the way, his parents had raised him with a strong sense of morality “you help who needs help”, his family are religious folk. Growing up, Nick has gotten in a few tussles here and there, standing up for the little guy. Nick is more or less of an average student, enjoys history, English, and has proved himself quite useful using terminals but never saw himself in a office job, he prefers to be out in the field, and he’s rather fond of baseball. After high school, Nick went into the Boston Police Academy and became a K9 police unit and was paired up with a German Shepard named Dogmeat. At some point Nick met a woman named Jennifer Lands and proclaimed her as the love of his life. Life was good for Officer Valentine, he now had a place of his own, two fury pets, was recently promoted to Detective, and was going to marry his long time girlfriend, life was great for Nick. Until one of Eddie Winter’s goons murdered Jenny when they discovered Detective Valentine took up “Operation Winter’s End”, this destroyed Nick, to make matters worse “Operation Winter’s End” was disbanded and Nick was ordered to seek treatment for his PTSD at C.I.T. Nick went against the orders of his superiors of hunting down Eddie Winters, and is now dedicated to tracking him down with his fury partner, Dogmeat.
Piper: Her father was drafted into the army when she was a little girl leaving her and her pregnant mother at home in pre-war Boston. Piper was a curious little girl, always wanting to learn or find out secrets of others. Though she loved learning, the lectures easily put her to sleep in her classes growing up. She wasn’t very popular in school due to her headstrong and nosey nature. Unfortunately her mother passed away when she gave birth to her new little sister, Natalie. To make matters worse her father died in action a few years later, so Piper had to grow up to take care of herself and Nat. Having both her parents wills to support both her and her sister, Piper preferred to be self supported instead of having distant family members or a family friend take care the Wright sisters. After a while Piper was now capable of supporting both herself and Nat when she scored a journalist’s career at the Boston Bugle, now capable to afford a place of her own and afford an education for Nat. Piper was a little more than just enthusiastic about her job which almost got her killed or fired when she dived head first into dangerous or scandalous situations, she’d almost do anything for a good story. Though she had a few run ins with the law ,Piper’s main focus is corruption in the government and in politics, determined to expose the truth to the people of Boston.
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liquidsensientdeity · 5 years
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If image is censored how about words?
The banned lecture:
GILLES de RAIS
THE BANNED LECTURE
Long ago when King Brahmadatta reigned in Benares, a gentleman whose Christian names were Thomas Henry – you possible have heard of him – he was no less a personage than Grandfather of the great Aldous Huxley – once found himself threatened be a predicament similar to that in which I stand tonight.  He had been asked to lecture a distinguished group of people.
            What bothered him was this: what assumption was he to make about the existing knowledge of the audience?  He adopted the sensible course of asking the advice of an old hand at the game; and was told, “You must do one of two things.  You may assume that they know everything, or that they know nothing.”  Thomas Henry thought it over, and decided that he would assume that they know nothing.
            I think that merely shows how badly brought up he must have been; and explains how it was that he became a kirty little atheist, and repented on his death-bed, and died blaspheming.  Gilles de Raise was born sometime in 1404.  He married Catherine de Thonars on the 30th of November 1420, arrest by the Church.  He began alchemical studies under the instruction of Gilles de Sille, a priest of St. Malo. Montague Summers believes he sacrificed around eight hundred children and quotes the proceedings of ecclesiastical high court in which a Dominican priest named Jean Blouyn took over as the delegate of the Holy Inquisition for the city and diocese of Nantes.  Needless to say, Gilles “confessed”, and was put on the stake and charcoaled on October 26th, 1440 leaving his estates and untold riches to Mother Church, who, wasting no time, added them to her list of material gains.  Included in this particular catch were Gilles personal hand-painted manuscripts, which were eagerly welcomed into the Mother Lode’s vault where they sit to this day.  Unfortunately, the Vatican’s library is inaccessible to “common folk”, and will probably remain so until the demise of Mother Church herself, at which time this author will assist other interested persons in converting it into a public library.
No!  No!  That would be quite impossibly bad manners.  I shall assume that you know everything about Gilles de Rais; and that being the case, it would evidently be impertinent for me to tell you anything about him.  So that we can consider the lecture at an end, and (after the usual vote of thanks) pass on immediately to the discussion, which I think ought to be more amusing, if scarcely as informative.
It is rather hard saying--however worthy of all acceptation in a university like Oxford, where, I understand, the besetting sin of the inmates is lecturing and being lectured, but discussions are always apt to turn out to be amusing, especially if conducted with blackthorns to shotguns, where as lecturing is merely an attempt, foredoomed to failure, to communicate knowledge which usually the lecturer does not posses.
I am sure that we all recognize that an attempt of this kind is impossible in nature in nature.  No!  I am not proposing to inflict upon you my celebrated discourse on Skepticism of the Instrument of Midn.  I am not even going to refer to the first and last lecture which I suffered at a dud university somewhere near Newmarket, in the specimen of old red sandstone in rostrum began by remarking that political economy was a very difficult subject to theorize upon because there were no reliable data.  Never would I tell so sad a story on a Monday evening, with the idea of Tuesday already looming darkly n every melancholic mind.  I should like to be just friendly and sensible, though it is perhaps too much to expect me to be cheerful.
The fact is that I am in a very depressed state.  My attention was attracted by that little work “knowledge” of which we hear so much and see so little.  I don’t propose to inflict upon you the M.C.H., and demonstrate that the life and opinions of Gilles de Rais were inevitably determined by the price of onions in Hyderabad.  But I do think that in approaching a historic question, we should be very careful to define what we mean—in our particular universe of discourse—by the work “knowledge.”
May I ask a question?
            Does anyone here know the date of the battle of Waterloo?
            Pause- - (Someone - - I bet - - tells me “1815.”)
            Thank you very much.  To be frank with you, I know it myself.  I did not require information on that particular point.  What I asked was, whether anyone knows the date.  I felt that, if so it would have created a sympathetic atmosphere.
            But since we are talking about Waterloo, we may ask ourselves what, roughly speaking, is the extent of our knowledge?
            I have heard plenty of theories about why Napoleon lost the battle.  I have been told that he was already suffering from the disease, which killed him.  I have been told that he was outgeneraled by Wellington.  I have been told that his army of conscripts was underfed and not properly drilled.  I have also been told that the battle was won by the Belgians.
Now, all these things are merely matters of opinion.  There may be a little truth in some of them.  But we have practically no means of finding out exactly how much, even if our documentary support is valid to establish any of these theories.  It is, also, almost impossible to estimate the causes of any given event, if only because those causes are infinite, and each one of them is to a certain extent an efficient determining cause.
            Take a quite simple matter like the time of year.  If it had been winter instead of summer, the hens would not have been laying and Hougomont and La Haye Sainte would not have been able to nourish the contending forces.  But though it is profitable for the soul to contemplate the extent of what we don’t know, it is in some ways more satisfying to our baser natures to consider what we do know in a reasonable sense of the word.
            It is not disputable that the battle of Waterloo was fought and won.  It is not disputable that it was the climax, or rather the denouncement, of campaigns lasting over a number of years.  And there is no reason for doubting that Napoleon was born in Corsica, that he entered the French army, and rose rapidly to power by a combination of military genius and political intrigue.
            There is a vast body of indirect evidence, which confirms these statements at every point.  Taken as a whole, they would be totally inexplicable on any other hypothesis.  But when we consider the character of Napoleon, we are at once involved in a mass of contradictions.  Probably no one in history has been more discussed, and every writer gives a totally different account.  Each seeks to buttress his opinion by incidents, which we have no reason to suppose other than authentic, but seem incongruous.  So far as we can get any truth out of the matter at all, it is that the character of Napoleon, like that of everybody who ever lived, was extremely complex.  And the writers are more or less in the position of the Six Wise Men of Hindustan who were born blind and had to describe an elephant.
            Spiritually fortified by these simple meditations, we may apply their fruits to the problem of Gilles de Rais, and ask ourselves what we really know about him as opposed to what we have heard about him.
            We know that he was a gentleman of good family, because otherwise he could not have held the offices, which he did hold.  We know that he was a brave soldier, and a comrade of Joan of Arc.  We know that he had a passion for science; for the basis of his reputation was that he frequented the society of learned men.  We know finally that he was accused of the same crimes as Joan of Arc by the same people who accused her, and that he was condemned by them to the same penalty.
            I do not think that I have left out any verifiable fact.  I think that all the rest amounts to speculation.  The real problem of Gilles de Rais amounts, accordingly, to this.  Here we have a person who, in almost every respect, was the make equivalent of Joan of Arc.  Both of them have gone down in history.  But history is somewhat curious.  I am still inclined to think that “there ain’t no sick animal.”  In the time of Shakespeare, Joan of Arc was accepted in England as a symbol for everything vile.  He makes her out not only as a sorceress, but a charlatan and hypocrite; and on tope of that a coward, a liar, and a common slut.  I suspect that they began to whitewash here when they decided that she was a virgin, that is a sexually deranged, or at least incomplete, animal, but the idea has always got people going, as any student of religion know.  Anyway, her stock went up to the point of canonization.  Gilles de Rais, on the other hand, is equally a household work fro monstrous vices and crimes.  So much so, that his is even confused with fabulou8s figure of Bluebeard, of whom, even were he real, we know nothing much beyond that he reacted in the most manly way to the problem of domestic infelicity.
            A moment’s digression; in fact, the main point.  What is the most precise and most atrocious charge that is made against him?  That he sacrificed, in the course of alchemical and magical experiments, a matter of 300 children?  I submit that, a priori, this sounds a little improbable.  Gilles de Rais was the lord of a district whose population would not have been very extensive, and even in that age of slavery, dirt, disease, debauchery, poverty and ignorance, which seems to Mr. G. K. Chesterton the one ideal state of society, it must have been a little difficult to carry out abductions and murders on such wholesale principles.
            Whenever questions arise with regard to black magic or black masses, invocations of the devil, etc., etc., it must never be forgotten that these practices are strictly functions of Christianity.  Where ignorant savages perform propitiatory rites, there and there only Christianity takes hold.  But under the great systems of the civilized parts of the world, there is no trace of any such perversion in religious feeling.  It is only the bloodthirsty and futile Jehovah who has achieved such monstrous births.  Such up as-trees can only grow in the poisonous mire of fear and shame where thought has putrefied to Christianity.
            There is thus no antecedent improbability that Gilles de Rais (or any other person of that place and period) was addicted to black magical practices, for they were all Catholics.  The power of the Church was, at that time, absolute, and even research was limited by the arbitrary theology imposed upon the mind of everyone.  The abomination was at its height.  But its decline has been rapid.  True, one hundred years later it was still possible for Queens to be bulldozed by Presbyterian pulpit-eers, but the time was already predictable when their best was for undergraduates to be bluffed by homosexual ecclesiastics.  I suppose it is all in the family.
            While these profound thoughts were producing a hypochondriac obnubilation of my mental faculties, it suddenly occurred to me that after all, I had heard this story before.  And I saw the connection.
            In the pitch-dark ages, when Christianity held unchallenged sway over those portions of this globe, which it had sufficiently corrupted, the pursuit of knowledge—knowledge of any kind - - was justly estimated by the people in power as the one and only dangerous pursuit.  Even so, as late as 300 years ago, it was not considered very gentlemanly to be able to read and write.  I am not sure that it is.
            In any case, it is a great error in education to teach these things.  Grammar, we must never forget, appears in the word “Gramarye,” beloved of Sir Walter Scott, and “grimoire,” a black magical ritual - - that is to say, any written document.
            Precious little knowledge filtered through Christianity.  It was against the interests of the Church, and in those times it was much easier to suppress people and ideas than it is now, though even today we find priests - - at least in Oxford - - who appear not to have heard of a certain recent invention by a notorious Magician inspired by the Devil - - the Printing Press.
            But they feared.  So those who pursued knowledge were at the best under strong suspicion of heresy.  I need not quote the obvious names.  But there were certain bodies of people who did carry on the old knowledge, mostly by oral tradition, and who were perforce tolerated to a certain extent, because even the little knowledge that they did possess was so exceedingly useful.  The best way to make armor, or to build Cathedrals, or to heal sickness would enable the Christian to get ahead of his friends.  Therefore, although conscience evidently demanded the maximum amount of persecution compatible with the existence of villains, the Jews and the Arabs were at least allowed to live.  Besides, the Arabs saw to themselves.
            But no one was better aware than the Pope that knowledge was power.  For all he know, and he probably knew that he did not now much, the Jews and Arabs might get together and overturn the whole construction of society.  Had he not in his own records the very best example of such a catastrophe?
            There are a large number of excellent people, possessed of even less that the minimum amount of brains required to grease a gimlet, who are always boring us with the bogey of the Jew-Bolshevist peril.  But as most of them are Roman Catholic and unaware that Rome is laughing in its sleeve at them, they conveniently ignore what should be - - if they realized I - - their best argument.  What was the ultimate cause of the destruction of the great civilization of Rome?  What corrupted the spirit of a people unconquerable in arms?  What but the spread of the slave morality of Jewish communists of the period?  If you will take your New Testaments from your pockets, you will find in the fourth chapter of the Acts of the Apostles and the thirty-second verse: “and the multitude of them that believed were of one heart and soul: and not one of them said that aught of the things that he possessed was his own, but that they had all things in common.  “ Of course one of them, and he too was a Jew, tried to hold out on the kitty, and was struck miraculously dead for his pains.  Lenin and Trotsky never did as well!
            So, as Roman Catholics are always telling us, the Church has a monopoly of logic, and The Pope argued that all Jews were communists.  Anyone who had or wanted knowledge must be a Jew, and therefore a communists, and therefore - - well, the Pope too believed in preparedness, though he probably called it a program of disarmament.  When people scrap battleships in the name of peach on earth and goodwill to men, it means that they have found battleships useless and too expensive, and that they have found something cheaper and more deadly.  So the Curia kept a weapon in reserve, in order to be sure of having a nice jolly pogrom whenever they gave the word.  And what was the word to be?
            Nice quiet peasant folk, or genial hard-working hunters and fighters, are not easy to arouse to indiscriminate slaughter without reason.  In order to get them going, there are only two things which you can play on - - greed and fear.  The motive behind the Crusades was the story of the fabulous wealth of the East.  We find, in fact, that well-organized armies of buccaneers, such as the Templars, did not bring back incalculable spoils, while the honest pious mugs ruined themselves in the process.
            Now, in this particular sport of suppressing earnest enquirers, it was not much good trying to play on people’s greed.  For everyone knew that even if the Jews had wealth, the managed to hide it very successfully, and that they had a nasty way of arranging for protection with people who were too powerful to be bullied, and too good business men to be fooled into killing the goose that laid the golden eggs.  So the only motive available was fear, and in those ages where ignorance was fostered with infinite devotion, it was even easier to create a scare about bogies than our propaganda in the recent scrap found it.
            I was in Venice just before the war, when Halley’s comet was around, and although the Pope himself sprinkled holy water over the comet, and sent it his special benediction and told the people it would do no harm, in his most ex cathedra manner, the Venetians gathered themselves in panic-stricken crowds in the Square of St. Mark and waited, howling for the end of the world.
            It was accordingly easy enough to associate the pursuit of knowledge with the most abominable crimes, real or imaginary or both.  For the reason, we hear - - not as a demonstrated thesis, but as a commonplace of inherited knowledge - - that Jews were sorcerers and wizards.  In other works, they know something about grammar.  We heard that they transformed themselves into cats or bats, and sucked people’s big toes.  I have never, personally, investigated the question as to whether this form of nutrition is palatable.  But, alas!  Even in those idyllic Chestertonian times there was a little shrewd common sense knocking about; the instinct - - sometimes very splendidly described as horse sense - - which comes from intimate wordless un-intellectual communing with nature (please do not take that word “communing” in any bad sense; if it were not for Baldwin.  I would be a Conservative myself) - - the instinct of some people, who at the bottom of their hearts, did not so much believe in these phantasms.  I was not so easy to get them to go out and murder a lot of inoffensive people at the word jump.  They had to be supplied with something a little more tangible.
            You will notice how all this fort of argument is invariably of the ad captandum variety.  It is produced out of nowhere for a definite purpose; and, as the French say, does not rime with anything.  If it did, of course, it would immediately be exposed as nonsense.  It is satisfied that nobody can disprove it any more than they can prove it.
                        Take a concrete example.  A nice young gentleman the other day wanted (very properly) to earn his living, and not being peculiarly endowed by Nature in the matter of original invention, he thought he might make a story out of the idea of a Suicide Club.  In this he was evidently correct. Robert Louis Stevenson had in fact proved the point.  So he took Stevenson’s story and transferred it to Germany, and driveled on about the ace of spades, and quoted statistics of suicides, and said that I was the president of the Club and that the Berlin police were after me.
            Now, I am afraid it would be a little bit difficult for anyone to prove that I am responsible for any suicides that may take place in Germany.  But, on the other hand, it is quite impossible for me to disprove it.  So now, if you want to attack anybody without the slightest fear of contradiction, you know how to set to work.
            I omitted to mention that all these suicides were excessively beautiful and even voluptuous young women of high social position, and that the wicked president had blackmailed them out of vast sums.  You see, the people for whom this dear young gentleman was writing all get sexually excited by pictures of young women, and also by any statement about large sums of money.  For they immediately have a wish phantasm - - if they had large sums themselves, what terrible fellows they could be.
            In the Middle Ages, the art of exciting the people was not very different.  The Jew had always an immense hoard of ill-gotten wealth, and of course every penny that was exacted by Reginald Front-de-Boeuf was laid to the Jews’ account.  But there was another treasure that the peasant was afraid to lose, the dearest treasure of all, his children.  As little boys, thank God, have a habit of straying in search of adventure and getting lost in the process, which is good for their souls, the peasant naturally has moments of serious disquietude as to whether something terrible can have happened to little Tommy.  Very good, all we have to do is to play on the alarm.
            We put into his mind, that little Tommy (who turns up all right, if rather muddy, half and hour later), has almost certainly been kidnapped by the Jews for purposes of ritual murder.
            I don’t know over how many years these practices were supposed to have spread.  As I think you must all feel sure by now, I know nothing whatever of my subject.
            But scientific experiment in those days was always a very prolonged operation.  They thought nothing of exposing some unknown substance to the rays of the sun and moon for periods of three months at a time, in the hope that in some mysterious way the first stage of some dimly - - visaged operation might be satisfactorily accomplished.  And even if they sacrificed a child every day, it would have taken a matter of two and a half years to dispose of 800 children.  Besides, it must have taken more than a few minutes to kidnap a child with the secrecy obviously required.  Did the disappearance of the first 400, say put no parents on their guard?
            I think, at the best, it is a cast of little Tommy who told his mother there where millions of cats on the wall of the back garden, but under cross-examination, in the style made popular by the dialogue of Lot with Almighty God, admitted that it was “Tom and another.”
            Of course, it will be obvious to you by this time that I have been seduced by Jewish gold, and the only way that I can think of to disarm your suspicions is to bring forward another cast the same kind, little more then a century old, with which Jews had nothing to do.
            There was a poet laureate - - I am not quite sure what this species of animal is - - but his name was Robert Southey, and he lived, if you can call it living, about the time of William Blake.  He wrote a number of words arranged in some scheme connected with rime and rhythm; apparently, like golf clubs, “a set of instruments very ill-adapted to the purpose.  But, anyway, he called it a poem, and the title was something to do with the old woman of Berkeley and who rode behind her.  The person who rode behind her was Mr. Montague Summers’ friend, the Devil.  What she actually did to merit this favor is to me rather obscure, because I have forgotten the whole beastly thing.  But I do remember two lines, because I am in the same line of business myself.
                        I have candles make of infants’ fat,
                        I have feasted on rifled graves.
            Southey was an ambitious man.  He was not content with the brilliant success of this masterpiece of the poetic art.  He immediately sat down and wrote another alleged poem all about infants’ fat and rifled graves and the Devil coming for the villain at the proper moment.  This poem has nothing to do with witchcraft.  It is called “The Surgeon’s Warning.”
            I think this is the best evidence in support of my thesis - - whatever that is, I am not quite sure - - that it is possible to adduce.
            In the minds of the kind of people who believe in their neighbors making candles of infants’ fat and digging up corpses to economize on the butcher’s bill, the surgeon - - that is to say, the man in pursuit of knowledge which it is hoped may alleviate human pain - - is the same kind of animal as the witch and the ritual – murdering Jew.
            It is, no doubt, because it is a part of the old taboo complex about the corpses of one’s relatives, that the clerical attack on surgeons concentrated itself on one fact - - the fact that to learn to be a surgeon you must have corpses to dissect.  For at that time, it will be remembered, hospitals were not as flourishing as they are today, and it was very difficult to find living people whom you could cut up to see what came of it.  The surgeon was, in fact, not understood at all, except in the one way which such people were capable of understanding; i.e., as the body-snatcher.  The rest of his proceedings were perfectly mysterious to them.
            You notice that even Charles Dickens - - who may yet go down in history for having wished to prosecute Holman Hunt, of all people in the world, for painting indecent pictures - - take very much this popular view of medicine and pharmacy in Pickwick.
            I think, then, it is not altogether unfair to assume that Gilles de Rais was to a large extent the victim of Catholic logic.  Catholic logic: and the foul wish-phantasms generated of its repressions, and of its fear and ignorance.  He wanted to confer to a boon on humanity; therefore he consorted with learned; therefore he murdered little children.
            I think it is about time that somebody got after J. B. S. Haldane.  It is too late to do anything more to Fidley and Latimer, but I am quite sure that the candle they lit was made of infants’ fat.  It is no use your starting to rifle Graves, because his publishers might resent you interference.
            Those in favor of the motion will now please signify the same in the usual manner.  Any way the Lord have mercy on your souls!
The above article was a lecture given at the University Poetry Society by Aleister Crowley on Feburary 30th 1930.  Later published in Occult Digest Vol. 2 Issue 3 (1972).           
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poor-cromwell · 7 years
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Would Anne Boleyn have survived if she was less open about her political opinions? Would Cromwell and Henry VIII feel the need to kill her, if she didn't disagree with them in public, or have her almoner criticize them in church?
Thanks for the question, anon!
Anne’s personality and her politics did definitely play a role in Henry’s feeling the need to have her executed instead of just putting her in a nunnery, but to say that she would have certainly survived had she been meeker politically would disregard many other things that played into her execution and over simplify the matter entirely.
In my opinion, the beginning of the end for Anne came with Catherine’s death. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Anne was executed just five months after Catherine died. As early as the month following Elizabeth’s birth, Henry was asking Cromwell and Cranmer if he could rid himself of Anne without having to go back to Catherine. With Catherine’s death, Henry could marry without the taint of illegality. To remarry Anne after Catherine’s death was to admit that his first marriage was legal, which he couldn’t do without looking like a fool, but to remain as he was meant that all the Catholic kings and princes would never accept his issue as legitimate. Although Edward’s place as legitimate heir came into question – mostly because some wanted the very Catholic Mary as queen, it was because Jane was never crowned and anointed as Queen, not because there was any question about the legality of her and Henry’s marriage. He was already courting Jane Seymour by the December before Catherine’s death, and after her second miscarriage, Henry’s hope in Anne was disappointed again. By 1536, Henry was already 45, and only had a bastard son and two daughters.
Had Henry left Anne alive, there would also be the question the legitimacy of a subsequent marriage, even if few accepted the marriage was legal in the first place. Obviously, Henry couldn’t execute Catherine, who was a member of the Third Franciscan Order, deeply religious, and whom even Cromwell spoke admiringly of on several occasions, without giving her nephew cause for war. England couldn’t have withstood an Imperial invasion, especially with the execution of a beloved Queen like Catherine. Anne was an Englishwoman, and no one cared enough to get stirred over a Queen whose legitimacy was in question. Thus, quarrelsome politically or not, Henry had little reason to keep her alive either way if he wanted to secure the legitimacy of subsequent children, whom he hoped would be male.
Regardless, what would Henry have done with a living Anne, simply set aside with or without accusations of adultery? Especially considering most agree that the accusations were fabricated by Cromwell’s dubious methods of inquiry, which included torturing the ones who he could and taking the word of Lady Somerset, who was known to hate Anne deeply. As a result, letting her live would allow her to continuous deny the charges and assert herself as Henry’s legitimate wife. The dead can’t talk, and Henry was able to make a frightening example of Anne. Killing his own wife, someone he had once deeply loved, would let everyone know that no one was safe, and not to count of the king’s “love” if they planned on disappointing him. A living Anne would have probably continued an opposition of Henry’s, and by extension Cromwell’s, policies and all around would have made herself a nuisance. Since it was largely believed that Anne and her family had a hand in Catherine’s death, a living Anne would have posed a threat to Henry, his new wife, and all their children. Let’s not forget, Anne may not have been beautiful, but she possessed great wit and charm and when they would listen to her, could turn enemies into friends. Even if she was left in a nunnery, she no doubt could have, in Henry’s paranoid mind, found money and men. With a daughter who had those red York locks, she could have raised an army in rebellion.
Her character was, of course, a part of it. Would someone have ever imagined Jane Seymour at the head of army or poisoning her enemies? Probably not. Anne’s temper was equal to Henry’s. She was fearless and vocal. Though perhaps her actual objections to Cromwell’s and Henry’s politics may not have made them sweat, the very character that compelled her to vocally oppose Henry and his first minister may have. As Queen Consort, she had very little actual legal powers, basically only those Henry gave her. But her influence is what they feared, and why Henry would have felt resolute in having her executed and why Cromwell would have had little qualms in orchestrating the downfall of his former Patroness.
It’s important to always keep in mind that history is mostly in the nuances, and big strokes come from thousands of tiny bristles. There’s almost never one reason that one thing happens, nor one thing that could have prevented it, especially in the multifaceted world of Tudor English.
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risalei-nur · 7 years
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TAFSIR: Risale-i Nur: The Rays Collection:The Fourteenth Ray.Part56
                       The Addendum to the Sixteenth Letter
                                                     In His Name!
                       There is nothing but it glorifies Him with praise.
Without reason ‘the worldly’ became suspicious of a powerless stranger like myself, and imagining me to have the power of thousands of people, put me under numerous restrictions. They did not give permission for me to stay one or two nights in Bedre, a district of Barla, or on one of the mountains of Barla. I heard that they say:
“Said has power equal to that of fifty thousand soldiers, we cannot therefore set him free.”
So I say:
You, unhappy people, whose view is restricted to this world! How is it that you do not know the matters of the world, despite working for the world with all your strength, and govern it like lunatics? If it is my person you fear, it is not fifty thousand soldiers, one soldier even could do more than me. That is, he could be posted at the door of my room and tell me: “You can’t go out!”
But if it is my profession and my being herald of the Qur’an and the moral strength of belief that you fear, then you are wrong, it is not fifty thousand soldiers, you should be aware that in respect of my profession I have the strength of fifty million! For through the strength of the All-Wise Qur’an, I challenge all Europe including your irreligious people. Through the lights of belief I have published, I have razed the sturdy bastions they call the physical sciences and Nature. I have cast down lower than animals their greatest irreligious philosophers. If all Europe was to gather, of which your irreligious people are a part, through God’s assistance, they could not make me recant a single matter of that way of mine. God willing, they could not defeat me....
Since the matter is thus, I do not interfere in your world, so don’t you interfere in my hereafter! If you do, if it will be of no avail.
What is determined by God cannot be turned by force; 
A flame that if lit by God, cannot be extinguished by puffing. 
‘The worldly’ are exceptionally and excessively suspicious of me; quite simply, they are frightened of me. Imagining things non-existent in me, which even if they were existent would not constitute a political crime and could not be the cause of accusation, like being a shaykh, or of significant rank or family, or being a tribal leader, and influential, and having numerous followers, or meeting with people from my native region, or being connected with the affairs of the world, or even entering politics, or even the opposition; imagining these things in me, they have been carried away by groundless fears. At a time even that they are discussing pardoning those in prison and outside, that is, those that according to them cannot be pardoned, they have quite simply barred me from everything. A bad and ephemeral person wrote the following good and enduring words:
If tyranny has cannon, shot, and forts, 
Right has an untwistable arm, a constant face.
And I say:
If the worldly have rule, power, and strength,
Through the Qur’an’s effulgence, its servant
Has unfaltering knowledge, an unsilenceable voice;
He has an unerring heart, an unquenchable light.
Many friends, as well as a military commander under whose surveillance I was, repeatedly asked:
“Why don’t you apply for the release papers and put forward a petition?”
T h e A n s w e r : I do not apply and I cannot apply for five or six reasons:
The First: I did not interfere in ‘the worldly’s’ world so that I should have been convicted and apply to them. I was convicted by Divine Determining; my faults are before it, and I apply to it. 
The Second: I believe and have certain knowledge that this world is a swiftly changing guest-house. Therefore, it is not the true homeland and everywhere is the same. Since I am not going to remain permanently in my homeland, it is pointless to struggle for it; it is not worth going there. Since everywhere is a guest-house, if the mercy of the guest-house’s Owner befriends one, everyone is a friend and everywhere familiar. Whereas if it does not befriend one, everywhere is a load on the heart and everyone hostile. 
The Third: Application is made within the framework of the law. But the way I have been treated these six years has been arbitrary and outside the law. The Exiles’ Law was not applied to me. They looked on me as though I had been stripped of all the rights of civilization and even of all worldly rights. To apply in the name of the law to those whose dealings with me have been thus outside the law is meaningless. 
The Fourth: This year, the local official applied in my name for me to stay for a few days in the village of Bedre, which is a sort of district of Barla, for a change of air. How can those who reject such an unimportant need of mine be applied to? If they are applied to, it would be a futile and degrading abasement.
The Fifth: To claim a right before those who claim a wrong to be right, and to apply to them, is a wrong. It is disrespectful towards right. I do not want to perpetrate such a wrong and show disrespect for right. And that is that. 
The Sixth: The distress and difficulty ‘the worldly’ have caused me has not been due to politics, because they know I do not meddle in politics and flee from it. Rather, knowingly or unknowingly, they torment me on account of aggressive atheism because I am bound to religion. In which case, to apply to them infers regretting religion and flattering the cause of aggressive atheism. Moreover, Divine Determining, which is just, would punish me through their tyrannical hand on my applying to them and having recourse to them, for they oppress me because of my being bound to religion. As for Divine Determining, from time to time it represses me due to my hypocrisy before ‘the worldly’ because of my deficiency in religion and in sincerity. Since this is so, for the time being I cannot be saved from this distress. If I apply to the worldly, Divine Determining would say:
“Hypocrite! Pay the penalty for applying!”
And if I do not apply, ‘the worldly’ say:
“You don’t recognize us, go on suffering difficulties!”
The Seventh Reason: It is well-known that an official’s duty is to give harmful individuals no opportunity to cause harm and to assist those who are beneficial. Whereas the official who took me into custody approached me, an elderly guest at the door of the grave, when I was expounding a subtle aspect of belief contained in
There is no god but God
as though I was perpetrating some misdemeanour, although he had not been to me for a long time previously. He caused the sincere unfortunate who was listening to be deprived, and me to be angry. There were certain people here, and he attached no importance to them. Then when they acted discourteously in a way that would poison the life of the village, he started to be gracious and appreciative towards them. Furthermore, it is well-known that someone in prison who has committed a hundred crimes can meet with the person who supervises him whether the official be of high or low rank. But in this last year, although two important people in the national government charged with supervising me have passed by my house several times, they have absolutely neither met with me nor asked after my condition. At first I supposed that they did not come near to me due to enmity, then it became clear that it was due to their fearful suspicions; they were fleeing from me as though I was going to gobble them up. Thus, to recognize a government whose members and officials are like those men and have recourse to it and apply to it, is not sensible, but a futile abasement. If it had been the Old Said, he would have said, like ‘Antara:
The very water of life becomes Hell through abasement,
Whereas Hell with dignity becomes a place of pride.
The Old Said no longer exists, and the New Said considers it meaningless to talk with ‘the worldly’. Let their world be the end of them! They can do what they like. He is silent, saying, we shall be judged together with them at the Last Judgement.
The Eighth Reason for my not applying: According to the rule, “The result of illicit love is merciless torment,” Divine Determining, which is just, torments me through the tyrannous hand of ‘the worldly’ because I incline towards them, since they are not worthy of it. Saying, I deserve this torment, I am silent. For in the Great War I fought and strove as a Commander of a volunteer regiment. Applauded by the Commander-in-Chief of the army and Enver Pasha, I sacrificed my valuable students and friends. I was wounded and taken prisoner. Returning from captivity, I cast myself into danger through works like The Seven Steps, aiming them at the heads of the British, who had occupied Istanbul. I assisted those who hold me without reason in this torment and captivity. As for them, they punish me in this way for that help. Those friends here cause me in three months the hardship and distress I suffered in three years as a prisoner-of-war in Russia. And the Russians did not prevent me from giving religious instruction, although they regarded me as a Kurdish Militia Commander, a cruel man who had slaughtered Cossacks and prisoners. I used to instruct the great majority of my ninety fellow officer prisoners. One time, the Russian commander came and listened. Because he did not know Turkish, he thought it was political instruction, and put a stop to it. Then later he gave permission. Also, in the same barracks, we made a room into a mosque, and I used to lead the prayers. They did not interfere at all. They did not prevent me from mixing, or from communicating, with the others. Whereas my friends here, my fellow citizens and co-religionists and those for whose benefits in the form of religious belief I have struggled, have held me in a tortuous captivity not for three years, but for six, for absolutely no reason and although they know I have severed all my relations with the world. They have prevented me mixing with others. They have prevented me from giving religious instruction, despite my having a certificate, and even from giving private instruction in my room. They have prevented me from communicating with others. They have even barred me from the mosque which I repaired and where I acted as prayer-leader for four years, although I had the necessary certificate. And now, to deprive me of the merit of performing the prayers in congregation, they do not accept me as prayer-leader even for three private individuals, my permanent congregation and brothers of the hereafter.
Furthermore, if, although I do not want it, someone is to call me good, the official who holds me in surveillance is jealous and angry. Thinking he will destroy my influence, he entirely unscrupulously takes precautions, and pesters me in order to curry favour with his superiors.
To whom can someone in such a position have recourse other than God Almighty? If the judge is also the claimant, of course he cannot complain to him. Come on, you say! What can we say to this? You say what you like, I say this: there are many dissemblers among these friends of mine. A dissembler is worse than an unbeliever. For that reason they make me suffer what the infidel Russian did not make me suffer.
You unfortunates, what have I done to you and what I am doing? I am trying to save your belief and am serving your eternal happiness! It means that my service is not sincere and purely for God’s sake so that it has the reverse effect. In return, you torment me at every opportunity. For sure, we shall meet at the Last Judgement. I say:
God is enough for us and the best of protectors. (3:173)
The best of lords and the best of helpers. (8:40)
The Enduring One, He is the Enduring One!
S a i d N u r s I 
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