#buddhism of russia | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

irithnova · 9 months

Text

My bone to pick with shitty hetalia "Siberia" OCs

Spoiler alert, they're all terrible!

Many people who make Siberia ocs often refer to Siberia as a nation. Siberia is not a nation, it is a large geographical area which is the home to many different ethnic groups.

This excuse is often made for singular "native American" ocs too; Using the excuse that because of the Russian conquest of Siberia which resulted in the massacre and displacement of the different peoples of Siberia, this is a justification to put all of these different groups into one, singular, Siberia OC, as apparently, there's no point in doing actual research into the different ethnic groups who are native to Siberia!

This I find to be blatantly disrespectful, conflating such diverse groups into one (often whitewashed as I'll get onto later) singular OC and flippantly saying "oh well a lot of them are dead now so..." is again, disrespectful and insensitive. A Tuvan is not an Evenk is not a Yakut is not a Buryat is not a Chukchi is not a Koryak.

That list I just gave you is just a small example of the sheer diversity of the ethnic groups who are native to Siberia.

It leaves a very bad taste in my mouth when people use the Russian conquest of Siberia - an already sensitive topic because of the displacements and killings of the native people of Siberia which in turn, resulted in an ethnic cleansing, as a vehicle to then create (as I said before, often whitewashed) OCs which dismiss the unique cultures and histories of these different groups. Do people...Not see the irony in this?

Honestly, just 5 minutes of research into the native groups of Siberia would show you that trying to conflate all of these different cultures into one just does not make sense regardless. Though these cultures share similarities because of course they are North East Asian - this is not a justification to waive off the diversity of these ethnic groups!

Let's take Buryats and Yakuts for example, two ethnic groups who live in Siberia and who are considered to be Siberians. Buryats are a Mongolic people, their culture is quite similar to that of Khalkha Mongols, the majority ethnic group in Mongolia. Yakuts on the other hand, are not a Mongolic group.

The Buryats live primarily in the Republic of Buryatia, located in southern Siberia, Russia, while the Yakuts, also known as the Sakha, inhabit the Sakha Republic (Yakutia) in the Russian Far East. Both groups have historically practised nomadic herding, but the Buryats traditionally focused on cattle herding and moved with their herds across the vast steppe, while the Yakuts were known for their reindeer herding and horse breeding in the Arctic and subarctic regions. The Buryats' culture has been heavily influenced by Tibetan Buddhism due to historical connections with Tibet, and shamanism also plays a significant role in their spiritual practices. The Yakuts' culture, in contrast, reflects influences from both Turkic and Siberian indigenous elements, with some Russian cultural assimilation over time.

Geographically speaking, they also differ. Buryatia is characterised by diverse landscapes, including mountains and lakes, while Yakutia is known for its extreme cold temperatures and vast tundra. Despite their differences, both groups have rich cultural heritages and face challenges in preserving their traditions and languages amidst Russian colonisation.

Just between Buryats and Yakuts, you can already see how they differ culturally and linguistically. Of course there will be some similarities as they are both Northern Asian cultures, but we don't give Spain and Portugal a singular personification because of similar characteristics/cultures now, do we?

Another issue I have with Siberia OCs is when, not only (by default) is a Siberia OC blatantly dismissive of the diversity of the ethnic groups who are native to Siberia, but when they make their already insensitive OC... White Russian, or half Russian? Do I even need to explain why this is offensive?

Yes, a majority of people who live in Siberia now are ethnic Russias. Do you ever... wonder why that is though?

What's worse is when people know, but then use the displacement of the people of Siberia as a justification to make their Siberia OC half Russian or white. This is blatant white washing, and though many groups are Russified, this does not mean that they've completely let go of their native culture and or are extinct, nor is it an excuse to ignore their native cultures to make an insensitive oc.

There is a difference in recognising that yes, some of these groups have gone through a process of Russification/have adopted many aspects Russian culture (to varying degrees depending on the group) , and straight up white washing their cultures by making a half white-Russian or a white Siberia OC - as if each of their unique identities do not deserve the agency to be represented by an equally unique and accurate personification.

Groups in Siberia never had strong relations with ethnic Russians until the Russian conquest of Siberia. It's okay to have an oc of a Siberian ethnic group which reflects the degree of Russification that that group underwent because (unfortunately) it's true for many of them - Kazakhstan for example is a central Asian country that underwent a process of Russification and it's accurate to reflect the degree to which Kazakhstan was Russified and how this affected him in his personification. Despite it being an unfortunate fact, you can't escape it, and I am not against reflecting this.

But it's a whole different ball game when you take already marginalised groups of people, squeeze their diverse cultures into a clusterfuck of an oc, which is already bad in and of itself… but then WHITEWASH THIS OC. EVEN WORSE WHEN THEIR CULTURES WERE ACTIVELY PERSECUTED BY THE RUSSIAN STATE, AND ARE STILL BEING PERSECUTED.

Further, the idea of making the Siberia OC "young" (even an oc of a singular Siberian ethnic group) as in, born during the Russian conquest era… and make Russia some sort of father to Siberia… This just absolutely reeks of paternalistic colonialist propaganda; the idea that these groups had no culture, no right to govern themselves or the idea that they didn't have the ability to govern themselves before the Russians came and subsequently "gave them culture" and "enlightened them" in their ways.

What other actual justification is there to do something like this? Seriously? When these cultures are actually quite old and predate the Russian conquest?

As a Filipino who has to deal with this sort of trash from Spaniards, it is not appreciated.

Further, if it wouldn't make sense to make a native American group OC half white because of white settlers in America, and if it wouldn't make sense to make the Philippines half Spanish because of our colonisation under the Spanish, why then is it ok to do it to the native people of Siberia?

This is the WORST part about Siberia ocs. But people who make their Siberia ocs the representation of 2p (or BOO! EVIL!) Russia.

This is so egregiously racist and I don't even know how people can headcanon this without even batting an eye.

First of all, making Siberia the "evil Asian" side of Russia… okay I've bloody banged on about this before but I really don't care at this point. This is stepping into peddling eugenicist racial science about Russian.

The rhetoric that Russians (but this also applies to other eastern Europeans, however I'm specifically talking about Russia here seeing as it's about Siberia ocs) are not "true Europeans" because of Asiatic influence, both from the past (Mongol invasions) and present (Russian Asians who are the result of the Russian conquest of Siberia and central Asia). And because of this, this means that Russians are also a load of evil, Eastern Hordes too because of their so called "Asiatic" heritage.

There's a saying in some Eastern European countries about Russians. It goes something along the lines of "Scratch a Russian, you'll find a Tatar." This is used in an offensive manner to basically call Russians subhuman or evil because of their so-called "tatar" (Asian) heritage.

Keeping this in mind… Making Siberia… the "evil Asian side" of Russia… yeah I'm not beating around the bush with this one. You're a filthy racist if you do this.

It's even more egregious when you're using Siberians as a justification to make your cheap 2p Russia OC evil, as if SIBERIANS are the aggressors towards Russians. WHEN THEY WERE THE ONES WHO ARE COLONISED BY RUSSIA AND TO THIS DAY FACE MARGINALISATION UNDER THE RUSSIAN STATE. BUT NO. THEY'RE THE BIG EVIL AGGRESSORS TOWARDS YOUR INNOCENT WHITE BLORBO, RIGHT?

tl;dr If you have a singular "Siberia" oc it's trash no matter what, hope this helps 👍

73 notes · View notes

disgruntledexplainer · 3 months

Text

Things not to do if you do not want your civilization or ideology to be snuffed out:

invade russia or afghanistan. Unless you are Mongolia.

murder a mongolian ambassador

declare that you will wipe out or even just out-live the Jewish people or the Catholic Church. (trying to stamp out Islam or Buddhism will also fail spectacularly, but not necessarily spectacularly enough to end your civilization)

rely on mercenaries or foreign aid in place of a standing army.

use all your trees to erect giant stone heads representing your leaders.

commit human sacrifice on all of your neighbors so much that they naturally jump to rallying around a bunch of gun-wielding ruffians from across the sea the moment the opportunity presents itself despite the risks.

try to enact communism. unless you are china.

bomb the US. unless you are al-qaeda or the taliban, but even then doing so will make your life miserable for about 10 years.

exist at the same time as the Sea Peoples. sorry mate, there's nothing you can do.

edit: BTW I can actually explain most of these. except for the last one, since information about the sea peoples is rather scant. give me a number and i'll give you an explanation.

#history #history memes

11 notes · View notes

madmarchhare · 1 year

Text

I have failed to give you updates on my other stories as I took a break from them, as my brain skipped tracks onto another story I had to get down. So here is an expert in an early-ish part of that one.

It is set in 1908 norther Japan. This is a small excerpt a while after the characters have already been introduced. I hope you all enjoy it. It is called :

The Monk and the Traveller

“I shall come with you to the next town then, I have some letters to send among other things,” he declared, moving to collect all of his belongings back into his rucksack. Cherry spun round to look at Collier, a flustered expression on his face.

“W-why?!” Cherry managed to force out, at a near total loss for words. Collier swung the now packed rucksack back over his shoulder, next to his Lee Speed and Type 35, taking a moment to adjust them then strode forward, ahead of the monk.

“Not everything needs a reason my good sir! Often just being mildly interesting is enough!” he called back in a boisterous yet sagely tone, Cherry staring after the whirlwind that had just blew past him. He took a second to grumble then stormed forward to the man. Even if his company could be… interesting, he was more likely to get a bed and a meal. Collier marched forward at a confident pace, not a single item on his person rattling, near silent as he strode forward a talent he had learned on his travels. It unnerved the monk. Cherry regarded the man oddly, like one would a spirit that had sat beside you for a meal.

“By they way, Cherry,” Collier began in a curious tone, thinning rain pattering off his bucket hat, “why do you dress like a Shinto priest despite being Buddhist?” Cherry looked up at him with a plain expression, less surprised the foreigner knew the difference than he might’ve been before.

“My-the leader of my temple decided to change our vestments and some our rituals to more closely match Shinto traditions around the time the government began to favour it over Buddhism. He thought it would make our temple more appealing to officials and the locals… He was right for the most part, annoyingly,” Cherry explained drolly, a note of annoyance in his voice as he begrudgingly acknowledged the plans’ success. Or more accurately that that man’s plan succeeded. Collier looked at him with an interested but respectful expression, deciding not to pry in his acquaintances life so soon.

“What about you?” Cherry queried in a sober tone, Collier looking back at him with an enquiring expression, “How do you know so much about Buddhism and Shintoism? You are a foreigner after all,” he finished bluntly, glancing back at the man as the rain finally died away, abandoning the light breeze that had accompanied it.

Collier wore an easy expression, one that seemed to say ‘oh is that all’, “I often spend time in the Raj for hunting and other things. I spent a while at some of the old Buddhist temples and monasteries to learn their teachings. Though I went to other ones as well, I spent some time with Islamists for about a year and two with the Sikhs up in the North-west frontier. I cannot encourage you enough to travel there. Beauty beyond dreams…” Collier trailed off wistfully, staring out ahead of him as he walked, holding his hands behind his back as Cherry looked at the traveller with a stunned expression. “As for Shintoism,” he brusquely resumed, “I came here to Japan a while ago, just after your war with Russia. I mostly stayed in Hokkaido and southern Karafuto[1] hunting with the Ainu, but I also learnt a bit about the Shinto faith from a temple further north. Though I should add that I learn most of Japanese before the trip, just enough to get by,” he added flippantly taking a long stride to get past a small stream that had cut across the path, its source likely having flooded due to the rain. Cherry looked at Collier with a bewildered expression as the hunter outpaced him, leaving the monk to watch the back of his head, or more aptly his hat.

He was strange. That was what Cherry decided, influenced by his sour disposition against the man. He followed on nonetheless, he saw no reason to put much effort in avoiding the man. The journey was not long now, and having traveling companion with loose purse strings could be helpful. Especially considering how the monk was nearly always skint. The sky was grey for a while, exhausted rainclouds lingering in the sky like a now silent orchestra. When the sky broke out into sun, around quarter to eleven, the forest glowed with beauty. Though, it had been so before as well.

Collier’s eyes would dance between flowers and trees glittering from the dew like a child in a sweetshop, grinning as he saw animals busy past. He stopped every so often to pull out a book to jot something down or sketch as he observed some odd bit of flora or fauna. Cherry would begrudgingly wait nearby, taking a moment to pray, occasionally hearing the other man mumble to himself in English as he worked, along with one or two other languages he couldn’t identify. Other times he would walk while he jotted down shorthand notes, not that Cherry could read them.

He spoke in long, drawn out tangents about various animals or other things, denoting how he had seen them when he was out hunting or had gone out specifically for them. He rambled about this that and otherwise while the monk occasionally chimed in, mostly tuning the man out when he spoke. And yet, so much of the journey was silent, the golden atmosphere shining under the summer sun. It was in this silence that Cherry noticed another thing about Collier, how he seemed a presence near you. Distinct and clear. Yet, he walked silently, indeed none of his equipment rattled or made a distinct noise, bar from the swish of fabric or his deliberate steps, somehow light despite his heavy boots and height. He had the presence of a hunter, even as he stood by you smiling like you were a decades old companion, he felt like a hare watched by a kitsune.[2]

They walked for a long while until they came close to the town, encountering a pair of young men with nets draped over their shoulders, one walking barefoot while the other wore sandals. Both wore plain yukata’s the one who wore sandals having his much more finely adjusted.

“Good morning my dear sirs,” Cherry declared, bowing to them as he offered a prayer to them, Collier smiling at them as he tipped his hat to the two men, who bowed in response, the barefooted man ducking out of it before the other and staring at Collier curiously. “I am currently traveling in hope to bring aid and enlightenment to myself and any I may meet. I am looking for Aisuge, am I correct in assuming it is this way?” gesturing with his staff as he smiled at the men, a wide Cheshire cat grin once again fixed on his face.

The man in sandals nodded, pointing down the path before he spoke, “yes, if you just follow this path, you will find it shortly,” he instructed, his words stilted as if he had trouble talking, though his face seemed quite intelligent.

“Thank you for your kindness, may the Buddha bless your endeavours,” Cherry bade them, a grace like that of a priest surrounding him as he did, bowing as he offered them a prayer. He spun and continued down the path determinedly while Collier stopped to talk to the, as he discovered, fisherman. Cherry walked on while Collier chatted to the two men about fishing spots, and what they recommended as certain baits for the area or where waterfowl tended to be. The town was much larger than the last one, the streets being paved and a few western style buildings rising out of construction sites, though not many. He smiled and waived at a few people as he passed, offering brusque but sincere prayers to them as he dashed to the post office, near single minded in his search.

He found it after a while, a rather small building made of wood constructed in a western style, comparatively new compared to the buildings that pressed against it on either side. A post man was walking out of the entrance as Cherry approached, tipping his hat to greet the Monk, rushing off to his deliveries. He pushed open the door and walked in, the clerk looking up from the newspaper he was reading with a surprised expression. He was a young man dressed in a postman’s uniform, a dark blue hakama with white kanji characters on it denoting his job, a white scarf pattered with flowers at the tips wrapped around his neck seemingly his own personal touch. His hair was done in a bowl-cut but with a trimmed back fringe, pitch black like ink. “Good afternoon,” he muttered weakly, offering a nervous smile to Cherry.

“Good afternoon,” Cherry replied kindly, smiling at the man with a look of zen on his face, “do you have any mail for a Nekomata Sakuranbou?”[3] He leaned over the man as he asked, a pensive smile pulled over his features.

The clerk seemed to settle down, and nodded jerkily, “yes, I do believe we have some mail for that name. I was wondering why the address was so strange,” he replied, rifling through a assortment of letters then picking one out, “but I suppose a wandering monk wouldn’t have one would he…?” he trailed off weakly, smiling at his own joke. His voice was frail, thin, seemingly straining just to be audible though he smiled at Cherry. His face then shifted into a harder expressions he pulled the letter away, almost shielding it with his person, “you are Nekomata-san? Aren’t you?” he questioned sternly squinting at the monk.

Cherry smiled at him still, rolling his eyes underneath his eyelids, “yes, I am, why else would I ask for that name?” Cherry responded, forcing his words to sound sweet, cocking his head at the man while he gripped his hands together, balancing his staff in the crook of his arm.

“You could want to know his information so that you could rob him,” the clerk offered innocently, Cherry cursing that the man didn’t get that the question was rhetorical, “or you could be trying to steal his identity, or wanting to curse him for despoiling the shrine you work at… Or you could be a yokai!” the young man cried excitedly, smiling giddily.

“I am not a yokai! I am a monk!” Cherry snapped indignantly, waiving his staff at the young man, who flinched back in response.

“A tanuki then? Though you being a Nekomata would be more obvious…” he again muttered weakly, still recoiled like a frightened cat, his arms splayed ahead of him.

“No!” Cherry again snapped, then calming down and sighing, “I’m just here for my mail please, I’m not a yokai, I am the Nekomata the letter is mean for,” he droned exhaustedly, wanting to move past the charade quickly.

The young man blinked then relaxed, “oh, yeah sure,” holding the letter out for the monk who quickly snatched it from his hands and tore it open, pouring over it quickly, panic in his eyes. Then he saw a specific line on the letter and visible slackened, his face relaxing significantly as he read on at a more leisurely pace. When he finished the letter he lowered it, a relived expression on his face as he tucked it into the sleeve of his robe.

“They’re alright,” he muttered serenely, smiling to himself as he turned back around to the clerk, now back by his desk. “Do you happen to have a piece of paper? I need to send a reply,” Cherry asked levelly, smiling slightly at the man.

The clerk flustered for a moment, “oh, yes, sure,” he babbled quickly, sifting through shelves to grab a piece of writing paper and an envelope before shoving the former towards the holy man.

“Thank you,” Cherry replied dignifiedly, drawing the piece of paper closer while he pulled out a yatate[4] from his belt, a beautiful piece made of shakudō[5], the metal having darkened into a deep black-indigo colour. He opened it and withdrew the brush from it, the smoking-pipe shaped piece holding it in its neck, and snapped open the lid of the ink box with his little finger before he pressed the brush’s bristles into the oil-damp cotton that was sat inside it. He pulled the genkō yōshi[6] paper under his pen and began writing.Cherry’s witing was somewhat scruffy, often taking liberties in how he would form kanji or katanaka where he assumed the letters recipient would know what he meant. His prose, however, was not lacking. The words he wrote were quite eloquent, though he flip-flopped between formality and closeness depending on who he mentioned in the letter. He finished after a moment, washing and drying the brush before slotting it back into its compartment and snapping shut the ink box before hiding it back around his belt.

“Please may you deliver this,” pressing the paper towards the clerk who was ready with an envelope, “to Nekomata __ , they live at the Buddhist temple near Yamagata. If you can’t find it, give the letter to Akisei Makoto, he’ll get it to her,” he instructed dully, seemingly used to giving these orders.

The clerk flashed a cheeky smile at his customer, “a letter to a fiancé or wife?” he asked slyly, but received a look of horror and disgust from the monk in response.

“It’s for my Onee-san[7],” he responded insulted, seeming to cringe away from the clerk.

“Ah, sorry,” the clerk blurted out flustered, looking somewhat hurt at his won joke reception regardless. He sealed the letter in an envelope and pulled stamp from a drawer in his desk, “Alright, that’ll be six yen,” the clerk declared, moving the stamp and letter towards Cherry, though keeping his hands on both. The skint monk looked at him silently for a moment, before shifting his staff to his other hand.

“My dear sir,” he began darkly bowing his back to he was closer to eye-level with the man, “I have neglected to inform you until now, but I believe you may be possessed by a spirit,” he fabricated, though the other man seemed to twitch at that, his scarf fluttering from the movement longer than it should’ve, though Cherry decided to put it aside for the moment. “But, I am more than willing and qualified to aid you. I simply need six yen to begin the exorcism,” he finished grandly, again his eyes being caught by the scarf around the clerk’s neck, now seemingly tighter than before. The clerk tugged at the scarf with one finger nervously while he smiled at Cherry, and uneasy smile on his face.

“N-no, I’m fine, thank you,” he replied, stammering slightly.

“Are you sure?” Cherry replied in slight surprise. Though how much of it was a show was anyone’s guess.

“Yes! I’m quite fine, but I don’t mind paying for your stamp! It’ll be delivered as soon as the postman comes back,” he babbled out nervously, squirming in his own clothes under the monk’s gaze. Cherry looked slightly perturbed in response, narrowing his eyes at the man to study him further.

“Very well… But, I must insist that you call for me if you need help with spirits or if you simply wish to talk,” the monk offered sincerely, a stern faced look on his face.

“Thank you for the offer, Nekomata-san,” he called back nervously as the monk moved to leave, chuckling slightly, “I’ll, uh, keep it in mind.”

“Thank you…” Cherry began to say as he left, trailing off as he came to the unknown of the clerks name.

“Okade,” the clerk blurted out, trying to rush out the monk.

“Okade-san, again I am more than willing to help. May you find great fortune,” he called as he spun to leave, waving to Okade with one hand as he gave his blessing. Okade stared out after the Buddhist as he left, placing a shaking hand on his scarf which shifted under his touch.

Cherry strode calmly out of the post office, glancing down at a cluster of young children who were playing near the patio’s edge. When the first one spotted him his face twisted into the shock horror of a student seeing their teacher outside of class, turning tale and running before he even considered telling his friends. A few other boys looked up, taking on similar looks and dashing away like petty thieves who spotted a policeman. They abandoned the rest.

“Children seem to take after sparrows”, Cherry muttered to himself, sauntering over to the remaining boys, along with one girl who had not been warned. He loomed over them watching what game they were playing. Marbles, it seemed. They had quite a few, ranging from dull clay to beautiful pattered glass. After a moment, the girl seemed to notice the shadow that now hung over them and looked up at Cherry, the other boys looking up as well. They all again stiffened, worried they would be told off or cursed.

“Who’s winning?” Cherry asked simply, a deadpan expression on his face, bar a slight smile at the corner of his lips. They looked perplexed at first but seemed to brighten up once they realized he was not there to scold them.

“I am!” the girl piped up in a boisterous tone, smiling a widely, revealing a pair of missing teeth, one on the left of her top jaw, the other on the right of her bottom jaw. One of the other boys, this one with shirt cropped hair, turned to her with an irate expression.

“That’s because you’re cheating! I’m winning really!” the boy accused her, looking up confidently as he finished his retort.

“No I am not!” the girl snapped shoving her face into the boys with a snarling expression.

“Yes you are!” the boy disputed. They continued on returning shots to each other as if passing a ball while the other boys looked at them boredly, likely having seen the performance multiple times before.

[1] Japanese name for Sakhalin, an island to the North of the Japanese Island of Hokkaido and to the East of the Russian region of Siberia around Vladivostok. Fully controlled by Russia after the Second World War.

[2] Kitsune, a type of Japanese Yokai (Spirit or monster), that looks like a fox. Some may have multiple tails.

[3] Cherry’s full name. Sakuranbou, his given name, means Cherry, which he prefers to be called. But, in Kanji it literally means ‘a deranged monk’. Nekomata, his family name, means ‘Cat Spirit’.

[4] A portable Japanese writing implement

[5]

[6]

[7] A Japanese honorific used to refer to ones older sister, or a female friend you are friendly with, with their permission.

@thewormsheep @ninety-s-kid @mimigoey @https-true-egoist @httpghostface @psycho-zom-atic @jemimacatclover @sleepy-gry

@shax-lied @shandzii @shark-smuggler

#creative writing #writeblr #writing #writers on tumblr #writers and poets #fiction #japan #i'm not japanese #if i make errors please god do advise me #i'm trying my best with wikipedia #google maps #and some documents #HMAD #the monk and the traveller #Elisah P Collier #Nekomata 'Cherry' Sakuranbou

15 notes · View notes

komaljangra · 1 year

Text

#buddhism #buddha #greenland #dharma #zen #believe #karma #faith #spirtual #awakening #china #russia #chakras

#SantRampalJiMaharaj #SaintRampalJi

#satlokashram #kabirisgod

13 notes · View notes

i-do-not-mean-it · 2 years

Photo

Syakyusn-Syume khurul, Elista, Kalmykia

#elista #buddhism #Russia #kalmykia #travel #travel photo blog #sacred place #путешествия #по стране #Россия #Элиста #Калмыкия #хурул #буддизм #phone photography #my photography

17 notes · View notes

lifblogs · 1 year

Text

My mom: I care about individual people.

Me (the questions I wish I’d asked): Then why do you sexually harass queer people? Why do you think all disabled people are children no matter their age? Why do you think chronic pain patients depend on pain meds too much and aren’t actually trying their best every day? Why do you still refuse to get the COVID vaccine? Why do you want to move to a state that’s killing trans people? Why do you feel threatened by lesbians? Why do you think elementary schoolers shouldn’t be taught about gender and sexuality? Why do you think agender people are like aliens? Why do you not give a shit about triggers? Why do you hate our cats, especially now that both of them are disabled? Why do you think trans women are predators? Why do you despise the label neurodivergent so much? Why do you think indigenous people are descended from aliens? Why are you Islamophobic? Why do you care about police more than Black people? Why do you regularly listen to a book that makes excuses for violence against Jews (the Bible)? Why do you hate Buddhism for not having “the divine”? Why do you think Chinese people created COVID? Why do you think Ukraine deserves to be wiped out by Russia? Why do you think only women can be abused? Why do you only care about cishet, white, abled Christians? Yes, you CLEARLY care about individuals. It is so obvious. Wow.

#literally my mom is an idiot AND a pos #my mom

8 notes · View notes

pittoresko · 1 year

Text

"7th Century Tang dynasty painting of envoys from the Three King of Korea: Baekje, Goguryeo and Silla" by Yan Liben, Chinese architect, painter, and politician during the early Tang Dynasty.

"The earliest visual depictions of hanbok can be traced back to the Three Kingdoms of Korea period (57 BC to 668 AD).

Samhan or the Three Kingdoms of Korea refers to the three kingdoms of Goguryeo, Baekje, and Silla. Goguryeo was later known as Goryeo, from which the modern name Korea is derived. The Three Kingdoms period is defined as being from 57 BC to 668 AD.

The Book of Sui recorded: "The customs, laws and clothes of Goguryeo, Baekje and Silla are generally identical. "The three kingdoms occupied the entire peninsula of Korea and roughly half of Manchuria, located mostly in present-day China, along with smaller parts from present-day Russia.

Buddhism, which arrived in Korea in 3rd century AD from India via Tibet and China, became the state religion of all 3 constituents of the Three Kingdoms, starting with Gaya in 372 AD." [Wikipedia]

Visit Pittoresko and see our Collection of Vintage Korean Art Prints

#korean painting #south korean art #korean history #south korea #korean #chinese art #tang dynasty

16 notes · View notes

moneeb0930 · 1 year

Text

THE BLACK MADONNA.

Isis was a Black African goddess of Nile Valley civilizations whose worship eventually diffused to most of the ancient world.

Isis was worshipped by the Nubians well over 300 years before the first Egyptian dynasty.

The Egyptians then gave the Isis religion to Greece, Rome, and Western Asia.

Gerald Massey says that the religious records of all the worlds religions including Hinduism, Buddhism, and Christianity are nothing more than copies of the religious records of the Black goddess Isis, her son Horus, and her husband Osiris.

For example, Horus was the first child born from a virgin mother's Immaculate Conception, and he was said to have walked on water just as Jesus later did.

The Black goddess Isis is also credited with resurrecting Osiris after he was murdered.

The first "Black Madonna and Child" statutes and portraits were of Isis and Horus, and these were taken throughout the world by the Roman Empire.

When other religions became more popular, these statues were not destroyed, but simply had their names changed.

In India, Isis and Horus became Maya and Buddha in Buddhism or Devaki and Krishna in Hinduism.

The Chinese called Isis Kwa-yin, and the Japanese changed the name to Kwannon.

In his 1985 book entitled "The Cult of the Black Virgin", Ean Begg was able to identify over 450 images of a Black virgin and child in Europe with over 190 statutes in France alone.

J.A. Rogers says that Paris was actually named for Isis because Para-isis means "Place of Isis." He also says that Note Dame means "Our Lady" and that the cathedral is nothing more than an enlargement of the original Isis temple.

Millions of pilgrims visit the Black Madonna shrines annually because they are believed to possess magical powers, although the statues are now called Mary and Jesus.

It is believed that only the Black statues are magical and all pilgrimages stopped whenever the statues were painted white.

The Black Madonnas have been credited with healing towns of plagues, bringing dead babies to life, making infertile women pregnant, and saving nations during wars.

Many crutches have been left at the feet of the Black Madonnas, who presumably gave their owners the power to walk.

One of the most devoted pilgrims of the Black Madonna shrine in Poland is the current Pope John Paul II.

He prayed to her image while recovering from his gun shot wound.

She is credited with thousands of documented miracles including saving Poland from Russia in 1769.

In 1968 alone, the Black Madonna shrine in Poland received over 66,000 thank you letters for healing and other miracles. Pilgrims frequently leave gold watches and rings at the feet of the Black Madonnas in appreciation.

Church literature absolutely refuses to acknowledge any association of Black Madonnas with Africa.

Church officials claim that the Madonnas are Black because of smoke from candles and from dirt and old age.

Church officials would never admit that the ancient Egyptians, Greeks, and Romans made pilgrimages until 536 AD to the Isis temple at Philae, Egypt to seek the same miracles that current pilgrims seek from the Black Madonna shrines.

Isis was recognized as a supreme miracle and magic worker and is also credited with teaching mankind the art of curing disease. Isis was able to restore life to the dead as she did with her husband Osiris and later with the infant Horus, who was brought back to life after he was killed by a scorpion's sting. Isis was the goddess of corn and grain, water and navigation, and even clothing. She was also called a divine granter of salvation for souls of mankind. The ancient Black Egyptians acknowledged Isis as the source of all their prosperity, including the Nile River.

Isis worship was so strong in Europe that Roman citizens ignored Emperors Augustus and Tuberous, who outlawed Isis worship and persecuted her priests.

Emperor Caligulia finally bowed to public pressure and re-established the Isis worship.

Emperor Justinian caused an unsuccessful armed insurrection in 536 AD, when he ordered all Isis temples permanently closed.

15 notes · View notes

arthurdrakoni · 10 months

Text

The Peshawar Lancers has some of the best world building I’ve seen in any alternate history novel. This is my review.

There are plenty of books I want to listen to, but they just aren't available in audio form. It frustrating, but it is what it is. Sometimes, however, my patience is rewarded in a big way. Case in point, The Peshawar Lancers by S.M. Stirling.

The Peshawar Lancers by SM Stirling is set in a world where Earth was struck by a series of asteroids in 1878. It wasn’t enough to wipe-out humanity, but it did screw up the climate. For example, it lead to five years of non-stop winter. As such, the various Europeans empires evacuated to their colonies in the southern hemisphere. For the British Empire this meant South Africa, Australia, and especially India. By 2020, the climate has stabilized, but the world is forever changed. The world is stuck in the Victorian era, but with some slight steampunk elements. More importantly, the British Empire, now called the Angrezi Raj, is home to an Anglo-Indian hybrid culture. The story follows a wide verity of characters, including the titular Peshawar Lancers, the Raj’s first line of defense on the frontier.

Interesting that Peshawar is where the Lancers are based. In ancient times, it was part of the Bactrian Kingdoms, a place of great culture exchange between Greeks and Indians. In fact, many of these Greek Indians eventually converted to Hinduism and Buddhism, eventually lead to a very unique culture and art style. I’m very tempted to thing that this was deliberate on Stirling’s part.

There are airships, Babbage Engines, and a couple steam-powered cars, but not really anything too fantastical in terms of technology. This is explains somewhat in-universe. Humanity had to focus on rebuilding after The Fall, so that stunted technological progress. Moreover, India doesn’t have access to a lot of mineral fuels, and there isn’t much need when wood is so plentiful. It is mentioned that steamships only recently surpassed wooden sailing ships in terms of capabilities.

Like I said, I utterly adore the world building that went into this novel. There’s even an index at the end containing certain details that didn’t make it into the novel proper. I loved the Anglo-Indian hybrid cultures of the Raj, France-outre-Mer in North Africa (which actually retained its French culture), andd the balls to walls insanity of how Russia is now an empire of Satanic cannibals.

The writing is also quite good. It reminds me very much of Victorian adventure novels by people such as H. Rider Haggard and Rudyard Kipling. I went on a kick of those in many younger days, so I was all onboard for that aspect.

Stirling has stated that he very much would like to write a sequel, but the sales weren’t good enough for his publisher to greenlight one. Oh well, I guess we can always hope that one day a sequel will come. Also, the man himself was nice enough to personally leave a comment on my blog saying that he appreciates my review.

The audiobook version is, of course, the whole reason we're having this review. It is narrated by Shaun Grindell, who perfectly captures the story. I'm very happy that this amazing work of alternate history is available in audiobook form at long last.

Have you read The Peshawar Lancers? If so, what did you think?

Link to the full review on my blog is here: https://drakoniandgriffalco.blogspot.com/2018/09/book-review-peshawar-lancers-by-sm.html?m=1

3 notes · View notes