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anxious-witch · 5 months

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Inertia 7

Summary: Newton's first law expresses the principle of inertia: the natural behavior of a body is to move in a straight line at constant speed. In the absence of outside influences, a body's motion preserves the status quo.

Jan choose a direction of his life the moment he walked out of his parents house and cut all contact with them. He didn't want anything to do with them, or God anymore. Even his soulmark he wished he could leave behind. But when Nace Jordan joins the band, with a mark matching his own, can Jan keep going the same way he did? Or will the force make him change a direction?

Pairings: Jan Peteh/Nace Jordan

Warnings: None, I think? Please do tell me if I'm wrong I'll edit ot immediately

Notes: AO3 link

urprise! Early update of the last chapter. Thank you everyone who made it this far, especially people who consistently commented throughout. I have several things to say before you jump right in.

1) I am aware JO didn't actually preform at the EMA, but since this is already and au and I really liked the concept of the scene, it is here. Just roll with it 2) There will (hopefully) be two fics following this one, one with the focus on Bojan and the other on Kris. I am not sure exactly when I'll be writing and post them though, since December is quite busy, but until then, at least this is finished.

Anyway, this part is pretty much all fluff and very cheesy at the end, but I figured we all deserved it after all the angst

I believe that witness is a magnitude of vulnerability. That when I say love what I mean is not a feeling nor promise of a feeling. I believe in attention. My love for you is a monolith of try.

The woman I love pays an inordinate amount of attention to large and small objects. She is not described by anything. Because I could not mean anything else,

she knows exactly what I mean.

Once upon a time a line saw itself clear to its end. I have seen the shape of happiness. (y=mx+b) I am holding it. It is your hand.

What Space Faith Can Occupy By TC Tolbert

Jan wondered if light green walls of the therapist's office were suppose to somehow elevate the space. Made it seem more colorful.

Personally, it only reminded him more if a hospital.

Still, just as in all previous sessions, he had to remind himself he wasn't there just for himself. Kris had been genuinely worried after his breakdown. Jure and Bojan didn't know about it, but they likely suspected something had transpired.

He would need to tell Bojan about him and Nace eventually. But that, at least, was a problem for future Jan.

There was also Nace to think about. In the past three weeks, there had been slow, almost painful progress made between them. Still, he was trying. That counted for something, right?

He turned his attention back to the matter at hand.

His therapist was a young woman, Jan would guess somewhere in her thirties. She hat jet black hair and looked perfectly put together. She reminded him of Kris in that regard.

Which made sense, considering he only got a spot so quickly due to Kris' connections. Jan really, really didn't want to think about how he managed that.

"So, Jan," Nina said, "do you want us to continue on where we stopped last time, or do you have something from this week you'd like to discuss?"

Her voice was unkind, or even cold, but Jan still had to force himself to talk sometimes. His trust issues weighted heavily on him in moment like these.

"Well, no. Except that Nace and I actually went to play basketball, but I mentioned we will last week anyway."

Nina patiently waited for him to continue. When he didn't, she spoke again.

"How was it?"

Jan sighed. It was awful. Jan felt genuinely bad for even going along with it, considering how much Nace hated any sport that you had to play with the ball. It ended when Nace didn't manage to catch the ball one time Jan threw it. It hit him in the face and made his nose bleed.

Jan supposed there was a metaphor there somewhere.

"It wasn't great. Nace is...really bad at basketball."

She quickly wrote something down and Jan tried his best not to feel judged.

"And how did you feel about it?"

"Shitty, I guess. I didn't make him play, but it kind of felt like I did."

Nina tapped her pen to the notes.

"From what I have here, it seems Nace usually initiates these activities and they seem to be activities you like. Am I correct?"

Jan shrugged.

"Yes."

"And what do you think about that?"

How many times could she ask him that? Wasn't she supposed to tell him what to think about that? Jan felt increasingly annoyed.

"Why do you keep asking that? If you want to say something, then say it."

She pursed her lips.

"I am not here to tell you how to feel, Jan. I am here to help you verbalize it."

That was the dumbest fucking answer he ever heard.

"I already said I feel bad about it. What more do you want me to say?"

"Have you thought about doing the same for him?"

Jan paused. He haven't. Or well-he had, but he wasn't really sure there was an activity Nace liked that they could do together.

"I don't know if we have anything in common. Other than music, I mean. I know he is trying, but maybe this wasn't a good idea, after all."

Nina nodded, his face neutral. Always so goddamn neutral.

"Have you talked to him about it?"

"What, and break his heart? He'd just try even harder. I don't-"

I don't know what to say to make him give up on me. Jan clenched his teeth.

"I think you should consider trying one of his activity. Surely, there is something he likes that you don't hate."

Jan took in a deep breath. He was fighting the urge to mess up his nails even more, but if he started bleeding during practice again, even Bojan will notice.

"I guess. But that doesn't solve the main issue, does it?"

Nina sighed.

"Alright. How about you think about it, and we talk about something else for the rest od the session?"

Jan agreed and they moved on, but the thought stayed with him. Was he simply not putting enough effort?

The question haunted him enough for him to drive to Nace's apartment few hours later. He only sent him a text asking if he was home, and once he got a confirmation, he sat in the car and drove here.

It was probably rude, but Jan figured that if Nace had an issue with him being rude, they wouldn't be here in the first place.

It wasn't until he rang the doorbell and heard the barking did he remember Nace had a dog. Ollie.

He knew that, of course. It was just that the two of them usually met outside of Nace's apartment and several times they came here, Ollie was being babysat by Nace's sister.

Well. Jan supposed it was bound to happen to or later. If Ollie hated him, did that mean he was immediately disqualified from soulmate status?

Nace opened the door, trying to keep Ollie from rushing into the hallway. Jan felt caught off guard, despite the fact that he was the one who rang the doorbell.

Nace was wearing a tank top. Had Jan ever seen him in one before?

"Please get in before he runs out, I don't feel like trying to catch him."

Jan quickly stepped into the apartment and Nace closed the door behind him. The Nace carefully let Ollie come closer.

Jan kneeled down, offering his hand for him to sniff at. He liked dogs well enough, but he was always at a bit of a loss on what to do with them.

Cats you had to build a bond with. Usually just being in their general vicinity was enough at the start. You let them come to you. Even if you offered them treats, you had to leave them at the same distance at first.

Dogs? Dogs were unpredictable. They could love you or hate you your smell. Or whatever it was that they could feel around you.

"Dogs can always tell if a person is good or bad", his brother used to say. Jan, who had dogs both love and hate him for no clear-cut reasons over the years, couldn't quite agree.

Dogs could feel something, certainly. But that something was only a first impression and they choose that intangible thing as a base to be loyal or not.

Cats, at least got to know you first before making any judgments.

Ollie sniffed his hand and cocked his head to the side, as if trying to gauge if he was alright or not.

"Hello," Jan said awkwardly.

Ollie came closer, nudging his snout against his hand and Jan carefully petted him on the head, waiting to see the reaction. When he started wagging his tail, Jan felt relieved.

Nace's dog hating him wasn't something he wished to deal with. There were plenty of other things that made him want to turn back and run away.

"He seems to like you," Nace said softly.

One bad call he share with his owner, Jan thought grimly as he stood up.

"That's good. I think we should talk."

Nace sighed.

"As much as I love how direct you are, that sounds very ominous."

Jan simply took his shoes off and shrugged off his jacket.

Ollie followed them as they went into the living room. Jan wondered if they were creating some sort of bad karma for the place, having all their fucked up conversations here.

Or perhaps he spent too much time around Bojan and his superstitiousness was starting to rub off of him.

"Do you want something to drink first or-"

"How about we just get this over with and then after you can offer me stuff if you want me to stay?"

Nace awkwardly sank into the couch, far enough that Jan would have to stretch to be able to touch him, despite his long arms. Was it for his own comfort, or for Jan's?

They were closer physically since they talked the last time. Sitting closer, hand brushing against each other, squeezing each other's shoulders on occasion. That sort of thing.

Now, though, there was no of that. As if Nace was already getting used to the distance. Which Jan supposed was fair, even if he felt a familiar burning at the soulmark.

Before Jan could say anything, though, Ollie jumped on the couch and attempted to nuzzled at his chest. Jan felt thrown off balance a bit as he petted him, which only prompted Ollie to settle in his lap.

"I don't think I am doing this whole thing right," Jan confessed, not taking his eyes off Ollie.

"Could you please be more specific?"

Jan scratched behind Ollies ear. Matej's dog liked that. Ollie made a content sound so Jan continued.

"You keep putting so much effort into liking things that I like and trying them out. And I-I mean I can do it too, but I don't know if it's even right. Like, shouldn't we already have matching interests? Is it even healthy if we both have to change?"

He took his hands off Ollie and clenched them in frustration. He hated how his tongue always felt like lead when he was supposed to talk about these things. He harshly pulled at his hair and tied it back with the tie around his wrist.

"This works like any other relationship would, Jan."

Jan scoffed.

"Does it? I don't remember any of my friends tailoring their interests to fit me."

Nace took in a deep breath. Jan learned he always did that when he was frustrated, like he was stopping himself from saying anything before he was ready.

"Really? Kris never tried listening to metal for you? He knows you favorite brand of tea on accident? You always keep ear plugs in your car if he gets overstimulated because, what? You did that before you were friends?"

Jan felt speechless.

"That's-

"Different? Yeah, of course it is, because this is Kris we are talking about."

Nace sounded resigned. Hurt, even. Jan slowly looked at him, but now it was Nace avoiding his gaze. He was staring at his hands, his expression troubled.

"I don't mean to say discard your and Kris' friendship. I think it's amazing you have him, but I'm jealous. Not because I think there is anything going on, but because you seem to allow others to get close to you while keep me at arms length. And I don't know what to do at this point to change your mind."

Jan's heart squeezed painfully. He never heard Nace so resigned. He was always the one to try and find a solution and not give up.

He gently set Ollie on the couch, despite his small, protesting whine. Then he stood up sat closer to Nace. Close enough that their shoulders touched. This time, he was the one to take Nace's hands in his.

"I'm sorry. You are right."

Nace's head slowly rose, like he barely dared to be hopeful and look at Jan straight on.

"I was, well I am scared. We said we'll be friends, but I don't think I can be your friend. From the moment we met, I kept you at arm length and for one single moment I didn't, we ended up hooking up. You terrify me, Nace."

Nace's breath stuttered. Jan leaned his forehead against Nace's and closed his eyes.

"I had all but convinced myself everything about soulmates was bullshit, that all that was stories and people kept confirming them because they were desperate for it to be true. But that was all it was, a placebo effect. And then you came along. Shattered everything I thought I knew."

For a moment, there was silence. Then Nace's hand touched his neck, just a bit below the soulmark. Jan took in a deep, shuddering breath.

"May I?"

"Yes."

The first time Nace touched the soulmark, Jan was too terrified to even appreciate the sensation. But he did now. The feeling was warm and safe. Jan expected his heart to race, but instead it calmed down, as if soothed by Nace's touch.

Something about a gesture made something deep inside him uncoil and words just started pouring out of him.

"When I was fifteen, I started secretly listening to metal. The first time I did, I felt so guilty, I ended up crying and not allowing myself to eat for a day, as a penance. For weeks, I had been worse off than if I had never listened to it. It took me months to gather the courage to try again."

Jan hoped Nace would understand he was saying. He wasn't sure he could say it outright. Nace hummed.

"You are afraid, but you also know that doesn't mean this is bad because you are afraid."

Jan nodded, but Nace didn't say anything immediately after. When he finally spoke, he didn't say what Jan expected him to.

"When I was twelve, I was bullied a lot because of my weight. I remember being terrified of going to school. The only place I felt safe in was the church, because nobody bullied me there. I felt safe. Even if the conditions and rules weren't perfect, it was still better."

Jan opened his eyes, almost indignantly.

"I am not a church."

Nace cracked a small smile.

"No. But you are a safe space, even if the conditions and rules you impose aren't perfect."

Jan's answer was to kiss him. Not roughly, like he did before, but softly and slowly. Giving Nace time to pull away.

He didn't, instead he kissed him back and pulled him closer. One of Jan's hands curled around Nace's nape and the other reached for his wrist. He knew exact moment he touched his soulmark, because Nace shivered.

The only way Jan could describe the feeling was that the bond between them sang. Like the world slightly tilted and found a perfect balance.

Like they were perfect together.

Jan had to pull back from the kiss, fighting a near overwhelming fear that washed over him. Nace didn't let him go far this time, instead pulling him in a hug.

"It's okay."

Nace's voice was soft, and he was warm and comfortable and it was almost unbearable.

"I know it's fucking okay," Jan said, his voice breaking.

He buried his head in Nace's chest and hope he didn't feel the tears soaking his shirt. Nace didn't say anything after that, he simply held him as he cried.

Until the tears dried out and the fear slightly pulled back. Still, some doubts remained.

"What if the rules and conditions can't be improved anymore? What if this is just...who I am?"

He pulled back a bit, to study Nace's face as he answered. Unexpectedly, Nace grinned.

"Well, if a church gets a new priest-"

Jan rolled his eyes at the awful joke.

"You've been hanging with Bojan too much."

Nace was still grinning.

"A priest can also recommend new way of worship-"

Jan groaned loudly and pushed Nace back, so he landed on his back, laughing openly. He had a beautiful, infectious laugh that Jan couldn't help but laugh along as well.

"Please don't use church metaphors anymore. They are awful."

Nace stretched his arms over his head, exposing his muscles and tattoos even more. Jan couldn't help, but let his gaze linger on them.

"Make me."

Jan was never the one to avoid temptation. And Nace had always been so tempting. Almost like a red apple in a garden without color. Jan leaned down and kissed him again.

Nace melted into the kiss and reached out to him again. His hands reached Jan's hair and Jan tense slightly, but Nace gently pulled at the tie, until his hair spilled from the ponytail.

Jan was distracted enough by the kiss to let him. He wanted Nace closer and-

They were interrupted by a loud, insistent whine. Jan pulled back enough to look in the direction it came from, finding Ollie looking at them with the saddest expression he could possibly muster.

Nace burst out laughing, his whole body shaking.

"I think he doesn't like me hogging his new favorite."

Jan chuckled, sitting back up. He held his hand out and petted Ollie gently, immediately receiving a lick on his hand.

"Maybe I could have some sort of tea, if the offer still stands," Jan said, not looking away from Ollie.

"It absolutely does. I have mint tea Kris mentioned you liked."

Traitor, Jan thought, giving away my secrets.

"Nace?"

"Yeah?"

"Which one is your favorite?"

Jan turned his head to look, catching a surprise that flitted across his face before it melted in a soft smile.

"Probably chamomile."

Of course. The calming thing one always drank when they felt unwell to soothe and comfort. It fit him.

"I'll remember that."

With that Nace went into the kitchen, and Ollie brough Jan a ball he could throw for him. Jan took in a deep breath, feeling as if he just climbed a mountain. Whatever happened after this, he had a feeling he could handle after.

As terrifying as it could get.

Jan was nervously tapping his fingers against the wheel, resisting the urge to bite his nails. It was not a smart thing to do while driving.

"Are you really not going to tell me where we are going?"

He chuckled a bit at Nace's pleading tone. This really was an unusual role reversal for both of them, wasn't it?

"I told you, it's a surprise."

Nace huffed and settled back in his seat. Jan sneaked a glance at him when he stopped at the red light. Nace had his arms crossed over his chest, his warm brown jacket tightly wrapped around his biceps.

"One would think I am taking you to get shot," Jan teased, turning his gaze back to the road as the light changed to green.

Nace laughed at that, at least, his shoulders relaxing.

"No, I just-I am not used to surprises. You barely gave me any hints on what to wear!"

Jan smirked.

"I said wear something comfortable that you don't mind getting dirty."

He could feel Nace's unimpressed stare on him.

"Very helpful."

Jan chuckled and took a left turn, parking to the side. Nace immediately started glancing around, trying to gauge where they were. Jan couldn't help but think it was kind of cute.

He unbuckled his belt and got out of the car, waiting for Nace to do the same. When he did, he led him to a nearby building.

Nace was frowning, trying to piece together what they were doing. Jan decided to take pity on him.

"It's a pottery class."

His head immediately snapped towards Jan, his eyes widening.

"You are taking me to a pottery class??"

Jan swallowed, growing nervous all of a sudden. Did he misjudge? Did Jure mix something up?

"Jure mentioned you wanted to try it since your sister did pottery. I thought..."

"No! I mean, yes, I love the idea!"

He sounded so eager, so terrified that Jan would change his mind and snatch the offer away from him. Jan felt bad. Was he truly treating him in a way that made him think he'd play him like this for a joke?

"Alright then. Let's go."

There were people inside already, and their teacher quickly introduced himself. He gave them instructions on hand-building techniques with clay, saying they need to get used to that before they can move to the pottery wheel.

The process was messy and Jan underestimate just how bad he was at shaping the clay. When Nace looked over and saw his wonky cup, he doubled over laughing.

Jan side-eyed him, before taking a bit of clay and smearing it over Nace's shirt. Nace gasped.

Then he grabbed a piece of clay and smeared it over Jan's cheek. Jan slapped his hair away, trying to rub it off.

"If this gets into my hair Nace, I swear-"

Nace laughed again and someone shushed them.

"Can you two please let the rest of us work?" A blond man left of them said.

He was short, with blind hair just below his ears. He was frowning at them intently, reminding Jan of an annoyed cat.

His tall, tattooed friend-or partner, how could Jan know, really-gently pulled him by the sleeve.

"Lovro, com'on. They are just having fun. Look at this."

The man, well maybe even a boy, with how soft his features looked, immediately turned to the other man. He looked at him like...oh.

Jan looked at Nace, who was clearly eyeing the situation, seeing if Jan could handle it or if he needed to get involved.

Jan was hit by the sudden realization of how much he had come to care for him. Despite all the back and forth and his own grievances, he was-

He stopped his thoughts before any bigger words came to mind. It was still too early to think that. But maybe it wouldn't be, eventually.

Jan never thought of himself as someone who could settle down and yet that spark of hope still lived, nestled deep in his chest.

Maybe.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Nace asked, titling his head to the side.

Jan shook his head.

"Nothing. Let's try to shape these into something decent before we do that...wheel thing, yeah?"

Nace smiled, like a sudden light igniting in the dark.

"Yeah."

As Jan tried to save his clay cup, he suddenly felt bolder. He could ask, right? At worst, Nace will refuse, but when did Nace refuse him before? Jan cleared his throat.

"You could...come over after, if you'd like. You didn't meet Igor yet."

He didn't look up as he asked the question. It would be easier to take a no when he didn't have to worry about which expression he was making.

"You want me to come over?"

There was that tone again. Like Nace was shocked by this. Like Jan wasn't trying to do better for weeks now. He supposed he'd just have to keep trying.

"If you'd like to, yes. I did get some chamomile tea recently."

He sneaked a glance in Nace's direction. His eyes were soft and his mouth was lightly open, as if in wonder. Jan's heart started beating fasted.

"I would like that," Nace said quietly, looking directly at him.

Jan had to look away, but he couldn't help but smile slight. There was slight fear in his stomach still, but there was no ringing of the church bell, or an urge to reach for a necklace that wasn’t there.

He was still himself and he was still in control of it all. Simply taking steps in the right direction. It had been as if he was in inertia for very long time. After being stuck for so long, it was hard to get back into motion, but once he did, he knew it would get easier.

All he had to do was keep moving.

All Jan could hear was a drum of his own heart as they waited for the host to announce them. Thud. Thud. Thud.

It was finally time for them to preform at EMA. To try and get chosen to represent Slovenia at Eurovision. The importance, the fragility of the moment made all the colors more intense, almost as if they were in new, swirling patterns.

Jan took a look at his bandmates. Each of them in a different outfit that fit them perfectly. Bojan, in his loud combination of green shirt and pink pants, that he somehow managed to pull of regardless.

Kris, in a gold sleeves shirt and lighter pink pants that match. Of course-Kris always knew how much attention to draw to himself. Not too much and not too little.

Jure, with sky blue button up that perfectly fit his sunshine personality and darker purple pants for contrast.

All of them looked amazing, really. But it was Nace that Jan couldn't look away from.

Nace, who finally wore color. A purple suit with a silver shirt underneath. The suit had intricated details that made Jan want to run his fingers over the material and feel it's shapes.

When he arrived, he was always pale beige in their mix of chaos and color. Slowly but surely, that changed. And here they were now.

Jan shuffled closer to him, almost as if pulled by an invisible force. He could feel it, but he found it more comforting now, rather than scary.

"Ready?" He whispered, smiling at him.

"Ready," Nace answered, briefly brushing his hand against Jan's.

"And next up, we have Joker Out!"

They stepped on the stage as the people clapped and Jan could feel the adrenaline fully hitting him. He couldn't concentrate on whatever Bojan briefly said before he started singing.

All Jan could focus on was playing. His fingers slid over the strings just as perfectly as they did the very first time he nailed a song when he was sixteen.

Everything else faded away, like looking at the world through a sort of fog. Only music existed. Even Bojan's singing was slightly muted in that moment. Like Jan was alone with his guitar.

Then his gaze slid to Nace and he found him already looking in his direction. Nace, who still had the ability to be in Jan's bubble that one else could touch.

He didn't mind the company, though. Not anymore.

He sent him a little wink and watched as his cheeks turned slightly red. Then he turned back to the audience and took a deep breath. Then let the bubble snap and all the sound and sensations rush back to him.

Because there was never really a need for the bubble at all. Not when he was at the safe space.

There was no divinity here. None other than the music itself, that they shared with the audience.

When they played the last note, there was a thunderous applause and part of Jan already knew. He could feel it in their bones that they won.

The knowing of being at the right place, at the right time. With just the right people, too.

The rest od the night passed in a blur. Jan knew he talked to people, but later he'd be unable to recall what he said. He'd remember the high of the announcement that they won and all of his friends rushing into a group hug.

It wasn't until they all changed back to their everyday clothes and were waiting for Bojan in the cold, that the realization finally started to sink in.

"We won," he whispered into the night air.

"We did," Kris said, smiling.

Whatever makeup they put on him made him look more ethereal than usual. He looked more content than Jan had seen him for awhile.

"What is Bojan doing for so long?" Jure wondered, his eyes lingering on the doors they all cane through.

It was odd. As much as Bojan paid attention to his looks, he never took this long.

"I'll go check," Jan said, getting to his feet.

Jan felt slightly guilty, over how little he talked to Bojan outside of the practice in recent weeks. Being caught up in the whole soulmate dilemma, he didn't take the time to pay as much attention to his friends.

Well, that was another thing he could start fixing now.

He found Bojan in the changing room, completely dressed, but staring off through the window.

"Bojan? Is everything okay?"

Bojan flinched, as if woken up from a very deep sleep. He blinked at Jan, confused.

"Ah, yeah! Yeah, I was just a bit lost in thought. Did you guys wait for me for long?"

Jan stepped closer, putting his hand on Bojan's shoulder. Bojan leaned into the touch, breathing out slowly.

"Are you sure you are alright?"

"I-" Bojan bit his lip, his gaze jumping around the room almost frantically, never staying for long and completely avoiding Jan's face.

"I just...this is a lot. It feels enormous. And of course, of course I am happy we won. It just feels like we set a new course all of a sudden, if that makes sense. Like it feels like my life already changed."

Jan pulled him into a hug. Bojan took in a sharp breath and then relaxed, hugging him back. They just stayed like that for a moment.

"I know. It's terrifying but it's going to be okay. You have us, alright?"

Bojan's arms tightened around him for a bit.

"Yeah."

They were silent for a bit and Bojan already pulled away from the hug when Jan spoke again.

"I actually owe you an apology. With how I reacted when you brought up soulmates for all these years."

Bojan shrugged.

"It's fine. I figured it was a sensitive topic."

Jan shook his head.

"Yes but it's not an excuse. I am sorry, Bojan. You were allowed to be excited at prospect of meeting them without me putting you down for it."

He rubbed tips of his fingers against the nail of his thumb. Resisting the urge to mess it up more.

"I won't say I completely understand, even now with Nace. I still very much love being independent from him. But I am saying I understand more."

Bojan smiled, reminding Jan that if Nace was the light in darkness, Bojan was certain a sun, his rays bringing about a new day.

"Thank you for saying that. I am excited to meet her, one day. Whenever destiny decides we are ready."

Jan rolled his eyes, more for the dramatic effect than anything else. That was still extremely cheesy, but it was very on brand for Bojan.

"Sure, lover boy. Now, can we go before the rest of them freeze outside? It is December, y'know?"

Bojan laughed and grabbed his bag. He dramatically pointed to the door.

"To wherever destiny may lead us!"

Jan cracked a smile, unable to keep up the brooding persona.

"To whenever destiny may lead us," he repeated quietly.

Then he stepped over the threshold after Bojan and for the first time in many years he knew everything would be alright. As long as he had his family, soulmate included, by his side, everything would be alright.

No matter the challenges that awaited them.

#my writing #joker out #jance #inertia

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signoraviolettavalery · 8 months

Text

Finally posting what is (sort of?) the next part of vampire!Bojan and hunter Jan - I'm skipping over the bits where they're brooding and missing each other after the Big Reveal. I'll post those later but for now I just want to get this posted. It rewrites a scene from an earlier part because of the way it resonates with a later scene (this is what happens when you serialize your work and post in installments as you're writing!)

this part is dark, with trigger warnings for blood and torture, so, ya know, proceed at your own risk

[Kris has noticed the bite mark on Jan’s neck and realized that Bojan fed from his neck]

“It’s fine, I can wear a sexy little scarf,” Jan says.

“that’s not the point and you know it,” Kris snaps. “We have rules for a reason.”

Bojan starts agreeing with him, he got carried away, it was irresponsible and dangerous, he shouldn’t have – but Jan won’t hear it.

“Don’t even start,” he snaps back. “I’m an adult, I can make my own decisions. I chose to trust him, and I was right.”

Kris opens his mouth to argue but Jan plows on. “And I don’t understand why you think Bojan is a ticking time bomb in the first place! He’s never lost control, never hurt anyone, never fed on anyone without permission. Ever. He’s the most disciplined person I’ve ever met, and acting like he’s a second away from killing us all the time isn’t doing anything for his self-worth!”

A heavy silence follows this.

“Jan has a point,” Nace ventures. “I know I’m the newest to all this, but I’ve never been afraid around Bojan.”

“We’re all new to this,” Kris insists. “We don’t know everything about vampires, and we’re under so much more scrutiny now with all our success. If we make a mistake it could end very badly. I just don’t want us to lose what we’ve worked for so hard, or for anything bad to happen. I’m just trying to take precautions.”

“There’s taking precautions and then there’s treating him like he’s radioactive. Maybe let’s act like we’re all adults with self-control and the ability to make our own decisions?”

“Okay. What would you suggest?”

[following this, Bojan discovers Jan is a hunter who originally came undercover to kill him, but then came to care for him. He feels betrayed, asks for space, they're both sad and brood and miss each other].

Jure gets kidnapped, and Bojan gets a very direct message: they’re hunters, and they’ll let Jure go if he surrenders himself.

Bojan doesn’t even give it a second thought. He writes a note to the group, telling them not to come looking for him but to call Jan if Jure doesn’t return safely, and he goes where he’s told.

“Do you think your friend will come? I’d wager 50-50,” one of the hunters ask Jure.

And, as if on cue. Bojan appears. “I’m here,” he says. “Let him go.”

“Guess you lost your bet,” Jure mouths off, despite the knife that’s appeared at his neck. They’re clearly not taking any chances.

“You first. You surrender peacefully and don’t try any funny business, and then we let him go.” The hunter directs this at Bojan, pressing the knife more firmly to Jure’s throat. A bead of blood appears.

“If you kill him, you lose your leverage, and I’ll tear you two to pieces,” Bojan points out. “Let him go.”

“You’re right,” one of the hunters says. “He’s no good to us dead.” He takes the knife away from Jure’s throat – Bojan breathes a sign of relief – and plunges it into his stomach instead.

Jure screams. (It’s a sound Bojan’s never heard before and never wants to again). Bojan screams too. Wants to tear them to pieces, but knows he won’t even get close. There’s two of them, and even with his superhuman abilities, he has no chance of subduing them before the knife does something a little more permanent to Jure.

“This won’t kill him immediately. He’ll bleed out slowly, but your blood can save him. You surrender peacefully and we’ll give it to him. It’s you or him. Choose.”

“I already did!” he practically shouts. “I’m here. What else do you want from me??”

The other hunter – the one who didn’t do the stabbing – throws a pair of silver handcuffs at him. “Put them on,” he says. “Behind your back.”

He knew it was too much to hope for that they’d merely kill him and get it done with. Still, he winces as he picks up the shackles. Silver burns, and though he’s wearing long sleeves, they don’t fully protect him. It’s bearable for now, like a low-level current on his skin, but it’ll get worse with time.

It’s funny how he doesn’t feel different as he manacles click shut. Yet the silver also tempers his abilities, rendering speed and strength like those of a normal human. Practically harmless, with men as trained as these.

He turns around, showing them that he hasn’t cheated, turns back.

“Come here,” they order, and he obeys. Lets himself be shoved unceremoniously to the floor and chained to a pole. Lets them rip open his button-down – the buttons go flying, and a hysterical part of him remembers ripped sleeves and delighted screams – and a knife slices open his chest. He bites back a hiss. The hunter is holding a vial, but the wound heals itself before he gets more than two drops into it. Not nearly enough.

“Hmm. I don’t think the silver tempers healing ability. Let’s try this.”

The next knife is a silver one, and Bojan grits his teeth as it slices him open and burns. This one takes longer to heal – long enough to fill the vial with precious liquid. Which they make no move to give to Jure.

“You have me, just give it to him.” He tries to sound less pleading and more forceful.

One of the hunters shrugs. “He has a few hours left. He’s here to ensure your continued cooperation. But don’t worry, we’ll give it to him before we finish you off.”

“You fuckers. He’s human. Do you get off on this or something?”

They don’t answer, just proceed to what they probably think of as their experiments, which start with a knife in his shoulder, over and over again. It heals every time, but as soon as it does, they plunge it again into the tender, perfectly healed skin until he’s screaming.

And Jure’s still here, across the room, bleeding. Bojan can hear him trying to bite back his whimpers. Wishes he could comfort him.

“He’s dying,” he tries to reason with them. “Please. Just give him my blood.”

“Cooperate, and we will.”

“I am, what else do you want – “

He’s silenced as a silver knife replaces the regular one in his shoulder and he screams again. Soon enough, he’s going to completely lose his voice from the screaming, and the part of him that’s a singer can’t help lamenting it, while the other part of him reminds him that it doesn’t matter anyway, because soon he’ll be dead.

“How’s that feel?”

He just groans.

“You agreed to cooperate. Tell me how that feels.” And he did, and Jure is behind them, lying on the ground now, curled up and whimpering and -

“Like you’re stabbing me with a poker, how do you think it feels?” he spits out. It’s too many words, what with a knife in his chest, and he groans, the room swimming. Blissfully, it’s over for now. He leans his head back and wishes desperately for it to be over. He can feel the wounds healing, slowly, but the memory of the pain stays vivid.

“Please,” he whispers.

“Begging already?” One of them sneers.

“Please. Let him go.” If only Jure is safe, this won’t have been for nothing.

They probably exchange glances – he can’t spare the effort to open his eyes and look – but he can hear footsteps, and a body being unceremoniously shoved.

“Brought you a little treat,” the hunter tells Jure. “Drink up.” The sounds of Jure drinking, presumably healing, and of course, a knife undoing Jure’s bonds.

“Go. Walk a mile west, you’ll find a road and a rest stop. And don’t you even think about playing hero. You’ve seen what we can do. You try to get back in here, we should you in the head.”

Bojan forces his eyes open and his head up.

“Go,” he tells a wide-eyed but definitely no-longer-bleeding Jure. “Leave me. Tell the others I love them, and not to play hero, okay?”

“You fucking monsters,” Jure snarls instead. “Does that look like a monster to you?”

They only shrug. “Go. Or stay, and join him where he’s going. Your choice.”

Bojan’s relieved when Jure chooses the former option. Sinks back, both relieved and resigned. There’s nothing to fight for anymore. If only they’d end it.

“Just finish it already,” he says as they pick up another knife.

“You want a quick ending? All the people you killed didn’t get one, did they? They got to die slowly, while you drained their blood. This is justice for them.”

“I’ve never killed anyone!” he protests uselessly, because clearly his stubbornness will die along with him.

It gets him a knife in the ribs. It’s silver, like a poker inside him, sheer agony, and they leave it there. The room swims again, and he wishes he’d just pass out. He hates his fucking pain tolerance.

“I think you have. Tell me how many.”

“I haven’t – I – fuck – I haven’t.”

He twists the knife and Bojan doesn’t have it in him to be ashamed of how pathetic his scream must sound, ending in a whimper.

“How many?”

“Zero, I swear, zero, I feed but I’ve never killed anybody!”

“Maybe he’s telling the truth,” the other one pipes up. The one with the knife doesn’t seem to agree, but he at least takes it out. His body doesn’t heal, can’t heal anymore, but at least he’s no longer on fire from the inside.

He slumps sideways and wishes he were dead.

Somewhere, an alarm blares, which doesn’t make sense.

“Someone found the perimeter,” the first hunter says, before there’s footsteps and then –

“Don’t shoot. I’m one of yours.”

Jan’s voice.

Jan. Is he, finally, fully delirious? Has the pain driven him mad? And if he’s imagining Jan, why has his mind conjured up a Jan that’s on their side? Is that what his subconscious really thinks?

There is probably clarity in death, he thinks.

“What are you doing here?” one of the hunters demands.

“Heard you were having some fun with a vampire I’d been tracking. You’re having the party without me?”

“You should’ve gotten to him first,” hunter two sneers.

“Or maybe you could let me join for the last bit of fun? This one and me have a bit of a personal history.”

Bojan doesn’t even open his eyes. Doesn’t want to see him, that beloved face looking back at him with empty eyes and a look of hatred.

Why is he surprised? Jan was a hunter above all. And yet Bojan feels his heart break a second time.

It’s a shock when he feels arms shove him upright; his eyes flutter open. And there’s Jan’s face, so dear to him, those deep, dark eyes, but they aren’t dead and full of hatred like he’d feared. They’re not full of – anything.

“You’re late to the party,” he says, bitterness coloring his voice. After everything they’d shared, he wants to throw it back in Jan’s face. “Couldn’t stomach it? Or did you just come to do the honors?” It would be poetic, after all, if Jan was the one to kill him. It’s what he’d intended to from the beginning, wasn’t it?

Jan doesn’t respond. One of his hands is on Bojan’s shoulder, holding him upright as he appears to examine his injuries, but the other is slipping something cold and metallic into his hands.

The key to his handcuffs.

Bojan’s eyes widen in surprise. Surprise that seems to make Jan’s eyes cloud with pain and confusion. Because Jan – Jan thought he’d just been playing along?

He stands, turns to the hunters. “So, what’s next on the menu?”

Bojan desperately undoes the handcuffs while Jan keeps them talking. It’s blissful relief to have the silver off. It doesn’t heal all his wounds, but it gives his body the strength to heal some. Gives his body back strength.

Jan’s eyes meet his. There’s a moment of acknowledgement.

Jan takes one hunter while Bojan lunges desperately at the other with the last of his strength. Grappling with each other, they roll to the ground and stumble back to their feet. Out of the corner of his eye, Bojan sees that Jan has dispatched his opponent quickly.

Bojan’s opponent, however, has a gun that he’s pulled out.

Beyond that, it’s a blur. He registers movement out of the corner of his eye before the gun goes off, the bang too loud in the silence. Then Jan’s body is in front of him, and he’s falling, and Bojan smells blood, and –

With his last ounce of strength, he uses the seconds Jan has bought him to tackle his opponent again, and this time he doesn’t hesitate to snap his neck. Not when Jan’s life is on the line, Jan is bleeding out next to him, and Bojan has spent the last of his strength. He has this one last chance, and beyond it, neither of them will be in any state to fight back.

So, now he’s killed. Ironic, he supposes.

He makes a beeline for Jan, who is on the ground and very much bleeding from a shoulder wound. Cradles his head and mumbles nonsense, Jan’s name and “you’ll be alright, you will, why did you do that?”

“Had to – keep you safe,” Jan mumbles, head lolling.

“No no no, don’t you dare pass out on me, you’re going to be fine, you’re going to take my blood, here – “

“Can’t – need to get the bullet out first – “

“Okay, how do I – “ he looks around. This place is hardly sanitary. There’s certainly no anesthetic, no tools. If there’s an infection, can his blood heal that?

“Get me home,” Jan mumbles. “Nace – getaway car – call him.”

It turns out Jan has a phone on him, and Jan – who’s parked a mile away – is there in minutes. Bojan collapses into the backseat, holding Jan, while Nace disregards all speed limits.

“Why did you do that?” he asks hysterically, though Jan is hardly lucid enough to give him proper answers. “I can heal. You can’t.”

“Not from a silver bullet, and he’d have aimed for the heart.”

Which means – Jan saved his life. Jan threw himself in front of a bullet without thinking, and it saved his life, and now Jan might not – might not –

“You’re going to make it,” he says firmly. “You’ll be fine, we’re almost there.”

“I know,” Jan agrees. “’s just a flesh wound.”

Nace joins in with the hysterical chuckling at that.

When they arrive, it’s Nace who picks Bojan up, carrying his injured body – so small by comparison to the bassist’s tall frame – bridal style. Jan insists he can walk, stumbles out of the car, and promptly faceplants. It’s Martin who runs forward to support him.

Martin. The last thing he’d said to Jan had been “I don’t care what you do, but bring him back.”

“He’s safe,” is all Jan says to him.

Martin hums in acknowledgement, clearly distracted. He gets Jan inside, but his first priority is Bojan, who’s been deposited on the couch and is attempting to sit up while wincing. And Martin takes it all in - the unbuttoned, bloodstained shirt, and all the still-bleeding wounds scattered around his torso, the angry burns from holy water.

“Mother of god,” he breathes. He’s on his knees, Bojan’s face cradled in his hands. “What did they do to you?”

“Don’t worry, chicks dig guys with scars.” Bojan tries to give a cheeky grin that makes Martin bite back a sob.

“Here.” He offers a wrist. “You need to heal.”

Bojan shakes his head stubbornly. “Is Jan okay? I have to make sure he’s okay.” He looks over to where Jan is being held upright by Nace, while Kris collects what they’ll need to remove the bullet. “Don’t we need anesthetic?” he asks.

Jan shakes his head. “Just give me the whiskey.”

Bojan wants to cry. “You can’t be serious, that’s not – you don’t have to be the tough guy and prove anything!”

“For fuck’s sake, can we stop talking and just get this over with,” Jan growls.

Kris – of steady guitarist fingers – does it. Jan, being a fucking hunter, makes no other sound than a valiant groan, and then passes out. Bojan tries to get up and run over to catch him, but only gets as far as attempting to stand up before he falls back down. It’s Nace who catches him instead.

“He’ll be fine,” Martin insists. “Now drink, because he won’t appreciate it if all his efforts have been for nothing.” He offers a wrist again. “Take as much as you need.”

Bojan takes it, clearly too worn out for protest, though he does add “I need more than one person can give.”

“Good think you’re surrounded by snacks,” Nace grins.

“Did you just call me a snack?” Kris demands.

“In more ways than one,” Nace replies, wiggling his eyebrows.

It’s the lighthearted banter, more than anything else, that soothes Bojan enough that he allows himself to drink.

It’s been a long time since he drank from Martin – now that he’s no longer part of the band – but the taste is familiar and soothing. It’s warmth, home, safety. He wants to drink and drink, and he’s in no state to stop himself, but thankfully Martin is, with that ever-gentle voice saying his name. It takes gargantuan effort, with his body craving the sustenance, but he drags himself away from that sweetness and warmth, only to see Martin looking shaky. It hadn’t seemed like he took that much, but in his state, his ability to judge that is off. And clearly he’s been drinking for long enough that Jan has regained consciousness in that time.

“Here,” Nace is quick to offer. “One gluten free dinner, coming right up.”

Bojan laughs weakly, but isn’t that something? He’s laughing. His friends are here, around him. He’s safe. Jan is safe. They’ll be okay. He feels that hope for the first time, as he takes the proffered wrist and feasts on gluten-free blood. He doesn’t even need Nace’s gentle encouragement to pull away. His injuries have knitted together, but his body is full of the memory of pain, and he doesn’t think that’ll go away for a while. But for now, he’s at least strong enough to walk, to take care of the biggest priority: Jan. Jan, who is still bleeding, teeth gritted, watching him feed attentively.

“Here.” He offers Jan a wrist, even though they still feel raw and he wants to wince as he bites it open, and watches as the healing blood does its work. Jan’s skin knits together perfectly.

“No sexy scar for you,” he says, and Jan chuckles.

Behind them, the others have silently and tactfully made their retreat, leaving the two of them alone for a much needed talk.

“You really thought I was with them? That I’d do that to you?” Jan asks.

“I - “ Had he really? “I was a bit delirious by that point. Thought you were a hallucination at first, and when you played along – “ he shakes his head. “After what they did to Jure, I didn’t have a lot of trust or hope left over.”

Jan takes his hands. “I’ll never hurt you. I swear. I will always protect you.”

Bojan laughs weakly. "Taking a bullet is an overdramatic way to earn back my trust. Maybe let's not do that again?"

Jan smiles cheekily. “No promises.”

And Bojan cries. The weeks of missing Jan, Jure’s kidnapping, what the hunters did to Jure, what they did to him, almost losing Jan – it’s too much. He buries his head in Jan’s neck and sobs, and Jan holds him while he gets it all out. He soaks Jan’s bloodstained shirt with tears, but what does that matter? “I missed you so much,” he confesses between sobs.

“I missed you too,” Jan admits. “But I’m here, and you’re safe, you’re always safe with me, and I’ll never give you a reason to doubt me again.”

Bojan refuses to let Jan out of his sight that night. They’re all exhausted, worn out, and nothing seems more tempting than collapsing into bed. Bojan refuses to sleep without Jan next to him, curling around him and passing out into a deep, blissfully dreamless sleep.

In the morning, Jan wakes up first. Bojan is still wrapped around him, tight as a barnacle, nose buried in his neck. A year ago, he’d have been terrified by the thought of a vampire’s fangs so close to his jugular while he was unconscious, but now, all he feels is warmth and familiarity and relief. Bojan is here, safe. He hadn’t failed.

He shifts slightly, and Bojan mumbles something in his sleep and clutches him tighter. Jan smiles.

“You’re not a monster,” he tells a sleeping Bojan. “You couldn’t be if you tried. You’re the best man I’ve ever known, and I love you.”

Bojan’s lips curve in a smile. “You love me?” he repeats.

“You weren’t supposed to hear that,” Jan admits.

Bojan blinks his eyes open. “You don’t want me to know you love me?” he asks. He’s sleep-ruffled and gorgeous and how could Jan ever deny him anything?

“No, I do,” he admits.

It’s strange, to wake up here like this. As if they were simply lovers, nothing chasm between them. Like they did this every morning. The moment hangs heavy between them, and to lighten it, Jan asks “how do you feel?”

Bojan groans, stretching and wincing slightly. “Like I got to be a hunter pincushion a few hours ago,” he admits. Now that Bojan’s not curled around him, Jan can see what look like scars from where he’d been injured, over and over. Perhaps they’ll fade with time – or maybe there’s a limit to even vampire healing.

“In that case, can I offer you breakfast in bed?” Jan suggests, extending a wrist.

Bojan frowns. “You got shot yesterday.”

“And you fed me your blood, so I feel literally better than ever. But you could clearly use some help in that department.”

And for once, Bojan gives in without protest. Leans forward to bite, but by then Jan’s made his decision. He pulls his wrist away, and Bojan pauses, frowns in momentary confusion before he sees Jan tilt his head back, offering his neck.

The moment hangs heavy between them. The last time they’d done this, there were secrets between them. Now, Jan knows Bojan is a vampire, Bojan knows Jan a hunter who’d come here intending to kill him, and they both know Jan offers freely.

Jan can read his face like a book: the hope that this time, this is real. How badly he wants it to be real. He can see the moment when Bojan lets himself have what he wants for once.

He feels the fangs sink into his neck and closes his eyes, relaxing. The bite hurts – nothing a hunter can’t handle, of course, and certainly nothing compared to a bullet through the shoulder – but beyond that, he feels blissfully calm and safe. He likes this, trusting Bojan with his life. Being at his mercy. Bojan will know when to stop. He doesn’t have to worry about it, can just lie here, in the warmest bed he’s ever known, and let the vampire take.

People always think that when a vampire feeds, they’re unaware of how much they’re taking, consumed by the bloodlust until their victim is beyond saving. That’s not true. The blood in Jan’s body sings to him, and as he drinks, there is that savage bloodlust, yes, but he knows how much is still there, calling to him. Can feel the blood pumping through veins, the pulse growing sluggish, unconsciousness coming.

It’s an intimate thing, to feed on someone. The hunters never realize that.

Bojan takes Jan to the edge of consciousness. He can sense it, the lethargy of the limbs, the feeble protests of a human body trying to protect itself. Jan’s eyes are still closed, the hand in his hair making no move to pull him away.

If he kept going, Jan would let him. Would trust him with the point of no return.

That is a moment of revelation. That this is real.

He pulls away and Jan makes a sound of protest. His eyelids are sluggish, slow to open, as Bojan licks the last drops of blood from Jan’s neck– the wound closes neatly, leaving a day-old bite mark – and licks his lips. Jan just smiles dumbly at him.

“I’ve missed this,” he admits.

Bojan frowns.

“Doesn’t it hurt?”

Jan gives a small shrug. “Little bit. Worth it, though. I’ve missed being someone you trust enough to show that part of yourself to. Missed trusting you with myself in return.”

And that – that is another revelation. He’d always hated feeding on his friends, felt so guilty about it that he went too long without feeding. The fact that Jan seems to like it is almost incomprehensible to him in this moment. He’s not a burden. He’s loved, trusted – accepted for everything that he is.

“I think it’s your turn for breakfast. Get some vitamins in you after that.”

Jan makes a half-hearted protest, but Bojan’s already out of bed. “I’ll be right back,” he says, making his way to the kitchen with vampire speed.

Where he happens upon Martin, Kris, Jure, and Nace. He’s already opened the fridge and pulled out half a breakfast by the time he registers their presence.

“How are you?” Kris asks.

“Good,” he says, and feels it. Yesterday’s memories are like a fever dream, and he has no doubt they’ll come back to haunt them, but for now he’s clearly repressing them. He probably looks better, too, less pale and half-dead (ha); he can see the others take in his obviously improved appearance, the makings of breakfast he’s holding, and put two and two together.

“Ah,” Kris says. Martin just smiles.

“Yeah, I’ll just – “ Bojan gestures, then speeds out of the kitchen, blushing. Why does it feel like he’s brought a girl home without asking his roommates?

Later that day, he makes his way into the kitchen again, climbs gingerly onto a stool. It’s obvious there’s a lot to discuss, but they wait for him to broach the silence.

“I forgive him,” he says tentatively.

Predictably, Kris frowns. “You’ve been through a lot. You’re not thinking clearly – “

Bojan shakes his head. “That’s not what this is. I stopped being mad at him a long time ago. Mostly I was just grieving, because I missed him and I didn’t know if any of it had been real for him like it was for me. But now I know it was, and I don’t want to waste any more time not having him in my life.”

“Okay,” Nace agrees. “If you can trust him again, I can too.”

“I don’t think I’m capable of trusting anyone after what I’ve been through,” Jure admits softly. “But I missed him too. And I do want him back.”

“I told him to bring you home no matter what he had to do, and he did,” Martin says. “I’ve seen how happy he makes you, how it broke you when he was gone, and what he’s willing to do for you. I think you deserve someone like that in your life.”

“I know he took a bullet for you,” Kris says. “I don’t think he’d hurt you. But that’s not the same as not lying to you. In that department, as far as I’m concerned, he’s on thin ice for now.”

“That’s fair.” Jan’s voice comes from behind them. He’s appeared with catlike silence, but stands in the doorway, hunched and small. He’d clearly showered, hair damp, and is now wearing one of Bojan’s white t-shirts, which leaves the bite mark on his neck starkly visible.

Bojan can see Kris’ eyes find it, his inaudible “oh,” the shift in his expression.

“Welcome back,” Jure offers.

“It’s good to be back,” Jan says. “I missed all of you. I know I didn’t show it the right way, but you’re like family to me. And I’ll earn back your trust.”

#vampire!bojan #poor bojan I feel so bad putting him through all this #this is so rough and unpolished but i just wanna get it posted honestly

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obiternihili · 5 years

Text

Something about property rights

I felt like I needed to rant yesterday and decided to adapt the discord messages into a tumblr post.

I spent most of a class this morning thinking about the Anglo interpretations and notions of property rights, trying to actually contrast it with workable alternative notions of property rights and feeling kind of hopeless about it and finding it hard to actually come up with anything that isn't literally communism.

And in retrospect it made the whole “philosophically questioning the whole notion of property rights” feel more, idk, respectable than it had before, when it just sounded like the USSR and China opposed its inclusion in the UDHR for technical reasons or pure self interest in covering their own atrocities.

The whole thing started with thinking about the Zapatist slogan “la tierra es de quién la trabaja”. “The land belongs to those who work it.” To me, the Zapatistas were pretty cool guys, who sided with the little guy and the indigenous peoples of México. But I thought immediately about how a colonial American might react to it, and I couldn’t escape the idea that they’d hear the slogan and go, “ah, yes, we should kill the savages and steward the land correctly”.

As much as the magna carta is held up as this great precursor to democratic rights in this country, its origins are far more dismal and petty. It wasn’t really a democratic impulse, it was more like a bunch of petty-kings coordinated to overwhelm a high king. But it doubtlessly had a strong effect on feudalism and came to be a part of English identity before that even really made sense from a modern perspective. In short it came off almost as a promise that “every man is a king of his own home” and that helped to make property itself sacrosanct.

So when capitalism changed the people’s relationship with the land, the serfs were “liberated” as the commons were siezed by their de jure owners. The collapse of the commons fundamentally changed people’s relationships with property, exacerbating the whole “every man is a king of his own house” issue, and making property the be-all-end-all of basic needs like shelter. To the degree that the Magna Carta made property sacrosanct, in a literal “this is a divinely appointed right” sort of sense, the collapse of the commons codified exactly what that meant, making that sacrosanctity intrinsic to thriving.

So because of tying these issues together so deeply, it made sense to steal the lands of people “not working it” according to how you might work it. So that it made sense to go to war because the yankees were stealing your chattel, and horror of horrors not even repurposing them! So that telling South Africa “hey, no, black people are people too” was unholy, violating their sacred authority to clean their own house. So it makes sense that Australia continues to break promises to its Aboriginal communities, if, say, their homes have a potentially profitable mine to work. So it makes sense that Canada breaks promises to its indigenous population, if there’s an oil pipeline they can lay. So that it made sense, paradoxically, for the US to strong arm México into changing articles of its constitution about indigenous land rights in order to pass NAFTA and be able to threaten to go United Fruit Company on the people for not being profitable to the corporations. And the EZLN, which formed directly because of the anxieties of these moves as the Maya genocide was still very fresh on everyone’s minds, are neo-Zapatistas; the land belongs to the one who works it! The Maya who always has, or the companies that want to (exploit it)?

I remember once as a teen confronting the attitudes this bears on a small chan.

Before the BLM stuff, actually regarding OWS and those "rich punks arguing for socialism with their iphones" and shit; I'd made an off hand comment about things not being worth more than lives at some point and someone replied "I'd totally kill someone if they stole my phone".

I made a comment in utter exasperation (this was on a board that was like /pol/ before that was really what it is now and there was no reason to believe they weren't serious), saying something like "Is, what, a month's pay really worth a human life to you?" ($800 really was more money than my mom was making at the time, let alone taking out rent and shit first, and I gave them benefit of the doubt that they weren't rich first world fucks who could afford to take a hit. At that point I’d learned that most people in India, even dirt poor people who couldn’t afford water, generally had smart phones in order to help with work and things; conscientious of this, the fact that I know and knew dirt poor almost homeless people in the US who needed phones for work, I was trying to allow for “if I lose this phone, I lose my job, my home, my health, and my life” which is a reality a lot of people live with, and at least somewhere to come at this issue with).

(But) the commentators, both the user I was arguing against and several people using trips, proceeded to mock me for apparently living in a 3rd world country for thinking a phone cost more than one paycheck.

To these people a phone wasn’t even worth a week’s pay, let alone two. And yet, to them, another person’s life, no matter how desperate they were, no matter how hungry or sick or anything they were, they were worth less than that.

This exchange was about the time I started nurturing (or giving in, depending on your perspective) the idea that "maybe some people aren't just, mistaken, or seeing something I don't, or have some complex network of beliefs making them bite a bullet, but like, actually goddamn legitimately evil in terms of their fundamental values". I gather absolutely that there’s a lot going on with this; that you could understand the guy to mean “I think thieves should be killed” as opposed to ““humans”“ or whatever. But, like, still.

Traumatizing is an overly dramatic word for what that conversation all those years did to me, but maybe it was. And it’s not like a phone’s *nothing*. But the way the users undercut me, and revealed not only how worthless the phone was to them, but how little human lives were worth to them in relation to the phone just kind of knocked the wind out of me

This made the rounds recently. This is the legacy of that property is sacrosanct bullshit.

And, like, fuck, this is the whole cultural underpinning of what’s been going on with the gun shit here. It’s why guns are so important to us. Why we feel it’s absolutely justified to shoot a kid in the back for lifting a $2 bottle of beer from a convenience store and leaving him to bleed to death without so much as calling the police. The entire fucked up thing we got going on w/r/t race here in the land of the free? It’s because of our relationship to property rights.

At the same time, you get climate change from people who feel it’s their right to do whatever to their property. Oil’s money. Dairy farms, meat, cash crops like almonds. You don’t like your water dirtied? But I’m only fracking over ma plotte!

What’s going on in Brazil? Some natives won the right to their lands against farmers who wanted to clear the forest, and mysteriously within a few weeks everything’s lit on fire. 𝅘𝅥 Dark torrents shake the airs, as black clouds blind [São Paulo] ♫

You even get the nimby zoning shit out of this. How dare you let colored people into my neighborhood! That’s stealing from my property values! A tall building? That’s stealing my sunlight!

In a more mixed sort of way, you got homeless shelters, oil wells, chemical plants, industrial parks, military bases, fracking, wind turbines, desalination plants, landfill sites, incinerators, power plants, quarries, prisons, pubs, adult entertainment clubs, concert venues, firearms dealers, mobile phone masts, electricity pylons, abortion clinics, children's homes, nursing homes, youth hostels, sports stadiums, shopping malls, retail parks, railways, roads, airports, seaports, nuclear waste repositories, storage for weapons of mass destruction, cannabis dispensaries, recreational cannabis shops and the accommodation of persons applying for asylum, refugees, and displaced persons - a list i just lifted from wikipedia’s articles on nimbies. Looking at that, there’s some clearly sympathetic issues too. I mean do you really want a train cutting through your farm, no matter how well you’re recompensated, no matter how much it will objectively improve the lives of the people in the cities, no matter much better it is for the environment to commute together?

But, like, what exactly are the alternatives?

We could look at other cultures. What did Belgian property notions look like? Leopold of the Congo? What do French notions look like? Forcing Algieria to pay back the “investment” France made by colonizing them? Well, the English and the French go back a long, long ways, maybe we could look at Germany?

The first genocide of the 20th century is often recognized to be that of the Herero, in Namibia’s, Germany’s biggest steal in the struggle to carve up Africa like the Black Dahlia.

I already mentioned Brasil.

What about China? Surely they aren’t western!

By some notions they were the first feudal nation in the world, and yet only left the system really in the 20th century. That’s a lot of cultural baggage that underlays the reality the Chinese live under today.

The early republican period saw the rise of warlords and other petty bastards effectively continuing the feudal reality in much the way sharecropping and jim crow continued chattel slavery in the US. The successor states aren’t pretty either; Taiwan, continuing republican ideals, cleared out much of its indigenous population for the Han in ways analogous to what European powers did to the natives of their countries; the PRC, which was born to challenge the ideals of the old republic for its own, took back “what was theirs” with Tibet.

The PRC, explicitly rejecting property rights as the west understands it, doesn’t even have a legal analog to eminent domain, and in effect can seize property on a whim without compensation, forcibly engaging in actions like people moving, which I feel it should be known when done to a community often results in genocide.

Something else illustrative of the conflicts of interest in the problem lies with the 3 Gorges Dam project. Ostensibly to control flooding to villages downstream, over a million residents of the Chongqing area were forcibly relocated, with rumors of people who resisted the project being explicitly drowned and because everything’s just hopelessly corrupt the money actually provided for recompensation never made it to the hands of farmers now stuck in a big city without the education for work.

Similar stories to Taiwan’s play out in other capitalist countries; similar stories to the PRC’s play out in countries that reject those notions.

Generally you just reinvent the same concepts drawing from the lord and serf mentalities of old. There’s shit like this going down in the Muslim world, in East Africa, South America, South Asia, whereever. It’s not just an Anglo thing, even though I’ve let myself believe it were, because of how I was taught about history, from my culture’s perspective.

Then you have to ask yourself, when there’s no net, when you have to provide for yourself first, do the commons necessarily make sense?

Is it even viable, economically or politically, to abolish private property and return to the commons like people have advanced? Would, to enjoy the benefits of something evidentally only stable under feudalism, we have to return to some kind of practice of feudalism? Is that even worth considering?

There are more people alive today than ever before. And that didn’t happen just by accident. We really, actually, seriously have made incredible improvements to agricultural yield and safety, ensuring that the only places on the planet that starve are those that are being starved, by monsters like the Saudis. But the scale we need, the scale we want, the scale we have - is much more than just what one farmer can provide for himself. And the fact that we do have other farmers do the mass farming with their bulk fertilizers, machinery, pesticides, and such, means that most of us don’t have to spend time every week tending to our gardens making sure we have enough staple foods to survive, so we can pursue our own hopes and hobbies and dreams and undertakings and services and so on.

All of it sort of leads to the question, Who deserves the land?

The worker whose blood sweat and tears are wrought into the soil? That could lead to the issue of killing my Yokuts friends' gatherer ancestors for stewarding their lands, husbanding their ecosystem and managing burns and wild populations, instead of raping the lands, burning everything to ash to farm foreign crops that aren’t even adapted to the water issues here. And it doesn't proclude the workers from choking us with smoke, if they feel they need to. The guy on the oil rig isn’t doing it because he endorses what the oil companies do or because he thinks it’s necessarily a good thing, he does it because it makes him bread. Why would worker’s self management solve that? Shareholders and workers alike would only care about taking home what they can.

The "owners” in the English sense? Taking subsidy after subsidy, fighting actively to drain our rivers, collapse the formerly self-renewing resources entirely, bringing us droughts, feeding even the lactose intolerant among us the lie that we need fatty heart clogging cheeses to be healthy? Illegally hiring, exploiting, and deporting the vulnerable? Big farms are just any other business, their owners are the same venture capitalist vultures preying on anything else in that world. South of me used to one of the biggest lakes in North America, virtually the entire south valley was lake Tulare. It’s a bunch of cities now.

So, the people who need it?

Maybe but who decides that? War for territory is a fundamental struggle built deep into us; war is even practiced by chimps. Military ration planning like we saw in the USSR and PRC cause Holodomors. United Fruit and their entire coalition caused the Silent Genocide. Abolishing private property entirely would, what, return us to the times when the lands were unclaimed? That would just lead to petty struggle after petty struggle, like a chimp disemboweling another.

And now, having written this a second time, I’ll end with what I wrote earlier

#effort post #property rights

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smol-gay-werewolf · 5 years

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The doubles of Ouran high:the Souh duo

In and alternate universe from the one we know, there is not only our beloved but female versions of them. Only Haruhi doesn't have a counterpart. The pairs are:

Kyoya and Okami

Tamaki and Belle

Hikaru and Himari

Kaoru and Kiki

Honey and Mizu

Mori and Misa

And then of course, Haruhi

Belle was hot, everybody knew it and she flaunted it everyday. She'd even convinced Okami Ootori to be her loyal little lapdog, even she muddled before the blondes power. The only person that could speak to begin equal terms was her brother Rene, or Tamaki as everyone called him nowdays . Belle hated his he'd been so willing to leave their old life behind. Even if she was happy here.

Sure she was popular and ok maybe she was hot but she missed her mother. She hated her grandmother for making her and Rene leave France. She'd notices that Grandmother had been pressuring poor Rene a lot more recently and she hated it. Rene didn't deserve to be pressured like that but...

Rene was supposed to be heir to their dadddies money and fame, Belle wanted it all. She knew that Rene would let her have it but that wasn't her goal, she wanted to win it while causing a much animosity amongst her leaders as possible.

She hated to admit it but the best place the start would be with the second most popular people in school, Rene his friend Kyoya. Belle knew that it would bring her so much more fun to torture the already mentally unstable Ootori to the point of snapping then it would ever be to hurt her brother. So she set to work.

She sat at her computer in the room she shared with her brother and she logged on to her anonymous Facebook account that she used for spreading drama. She phoned Okami and started a new post while waiting for her to answer.

"Belle! Hi! Do you need anything."

"Heyy Okami hun, I just had the BEST thought!" Belle smiled sweetly out of reflex. Across the room, Rene rolled his eyes and continued to text Kyoya.

"Oh my god what?"

"Gurl, just imagine how funny it would be to prank your brother!" Belle giggled as Rene looked over at her. "Belle, n'ose pas le blesser." Belle simply rolled her eyes.

Okami giggled at the other end of the phone. "Oh my god Belle! You're a fucking genius!"

"Ok babes! Can you se-" At that moment, Rene spoke up angrily. "Je jure devant dieu Belle, je ne vais pas vous laisser imtimider mon meilleur ami comme ça. Tu dois arrêter!"

Belle rolled her eye and ignored him. "Okami? Love? We're gonna have to go meet up in the coffee shop down the road, my brother's being a little bitch again. M'kay?"

"Got it!"

Tamaki was worried about Kyoya, he was never actually sleeping he just knew that it was better to let his friend vent. But although Tamaki would never admit to listening that doesn't mean he can't remind Kyoya to take his pills and withhold movie night when he refuses.

But other then that, Tamaki had no worries at school. Sure his sister was a stress head but he only had to deal with that out of school, in school he was the dreamboat of Ouran. He played piano, he was half French and the ladies loved him. What more is there to life?

He was passing all his classes with a C minimum and he was pretty popular so why did Grandma have to be on his case so much. He was allowed to mess around, it didn't affect his grades and they were RICH for crying out loud. Having money is supposed to be fun.

He enjoyed music class and English Lit, he and Kyoya both took the advanced course alongside Kyoyas sister and they all sat in the corner so Tamaki spend most of the class making up Shakespearian insults while the other two both stifled laughter.

Tamaki was a popular kid but he wasn't part of the jocks and he certainly didn't hang out with the bully types, he actually preferred to protect people from bullies. Kyoya helped out as well, but he preferred to blackmail the bullies instead.

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sarenstuff · 6 years

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Israel and the Palestinians, part 2

@angrybell So, picking up from where we last left off:

The League of Nations granted mandates to the British and the French. The Mandates required them to exercise control until they could grant independence to new countries. Among those, they decided that one of the territories would be a Jewish National Home.

And what right did they have to give the ancestral homeland of the Palestinian people to people who didn’t even have any provable ancestral connection to the land? Please explain.

What we are left with is this: Israel’s control of Judea and Samaria is entirely legal.

So all of the UN resolutions passed declaring the occupation completely illegal have nothing to them, then? They’re all bullshit?

Until the Arabs and Israel arrive at a settlement on the territory Israel is willing to give to a new Arab state

There isn’t going to be any “settlement” as long as Israel chooses to exist as a Jewish state. There can’t be any settlement unless Israel agrees to respect the three basic rights of the Palestinian people as set forth by the BDS movement.

there are no de facto or de jure borders for the mythical “Palestine”, but there are for the State of Israel.

No, there aren’t. Israel has no borders. It doesn’t recognize its own borders. Doing so would mean recognizing the complete illegality of its settlements in the West Bank, the Jordan Valley and the Golan Heights.

Now, if Israel was truly eradicating all signs that Arabs had been living in the region, why would Arabic be on the road signs?

Non-Jewish Palestinian citizens of Israel don’t have the same rights as Jewish citizens do. Israel has recently been making efforts to make Arabic a lower status than Hebrew across the entire country.

And why would [the Dome of the Rock] be allowed to remain if Israel was actually destroying Arabic connections to Israel?

Because there’s only so much that even Israel could get away with. If they did that, even the US wouldn’t be able to protect them.

However, you cannot ignore that Israel is an inclusive society, despite what some fringe elements call for, which has not erased the connection of the Arabs to the region.

No, it is not an inclusive society:

Also, are you familiar with these lovely statements from Israeli leaders and founders?

“Palestinians are beasts, they are not human.” - Deputy Minister of Defense, Eli Ben-Dahan

“The Palestinians are like crocodiles, the more you give them meat, they want more.” - Ehud Barak, when he was Prime Minister of Israel

“The Palestinians are beasts walking on two legs.” - Menahim Begin, Former Prime Minister of Israel

“When we have settled the land, all the Palestinians will be able to do about it will be to scurry around like drugged cockroaches in a bottle.“ - Rafael Eitan, Former Chief of Staff of the Israeli Defence Forces

”We declare openly that the Arabs have no right to settle on even one centimeter of Eretz Israel… Force is all they do or ever will understand. We shall use the ultimate force until the Palestinians come crawling to us on all fours.“ - Rafael Eitan, Former Chief of Staff of the Israeli Defense Forces

“There was no such thing as Palestinians, they never existed.” -Golda Maier, Former Israeli Prime Minister

“We shall reduce the [Palestinian] Arab population to a community of woodcutters and waiters.” - Uri Lubrani, Former Israeli Prime Minister’s special adviser

“We have to kill all the Palestinians unless they are resigned to live here as slaves.” - Shlomo Lahat, former mayor of Tel Aviv

“We must use terror, assassination, intimidation, land confiscation and the cutting of all social services to rid the Galilee of its [Palestinian] Arab population.” -Yosef Weitz, a former director a the Jewish National Fund in the 1940s, a group that’s responsible for organizing Zionist settlements

And that doesn’t even include Ayelet Shaked’s infamous “little snakes” comment. So, yeah: please explain how it is an “inclusive society”?

But according to you, that’s stealing.

No, according to me, the Nakba was stealing (and ethnic cleansing, and mass murder).

So how good was the economic conditions? By far, the Mandate territory had the best per capita income and daily wages in the region. It was causing a flood of illegal immigration.

Palestinians are not illegal immigrants:

http://jurhfalastini.tumblr.com/post/162977518288/hey-you-know-angrybell-has-claimed-that-most

Under your thesis, Arabs and Muslims get a pass because, after blowing their chance to ethnically cleanse and create apartheid states of their own, they now seek to smear Israel with the crimes that they they attempted. And that this somehow differentiates their anti-semitism from the Nazis and others.

No, under my thesis, the Palestinians were resisting Zionist colonization, whereas the Nazis just wanted to straight-up fucking murder every single Jew in the world.

It does not matter whether the person trying to extirminate the Jews from some part of the globe wears a swastika, crescent moon, or a funky looking cross. The methods they use may be different, but in the end, they are fundamentally the same: they are antisemites.

No, they are not. Anti-Zionism will never, ever, ever be antisemitism, no matter how much you fucking screech about it!

And then there was the Secretary General of the Arab League, Azzam Pasha, who proclaimed,

“This will be a war of extermination and a momentous massacre which will be spoken of like the Mongolian massacre and the Crusades.”

Kinda sounds like they wanted to exterminate all the Jews in Israel.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Azzam_Pasha_quotation

Anti-Zionism is Anti-Semitism. Its simple.

No, it isn’t.

You are denying Jews the right to their ancestral homeland for one simple reason: they are Jews.

There’s not a Jew on the planet who can trace his or her ancestry back to the Ancient Hebrews. I think that Jews belong in the countries in which they are born. I believe that a Swedish Jew is a Swede and an American Jew is an American. You Zionists don’t. You believe that Jews will forever be strangers in their actual homelands!

You can criticize Israel and not be anti-Semitic.

Yeah? That’s exactly what I’ve been doing all along!

However, to attack Zionism is to effectively deny Judaism because so much of Judaism is wrapped up in the idea that someday all the Jews will be back in Israel. It is part of our prayers. It is part of festivals and holidays. It is part of our scripture.

I don’t care. You do not get to ethnically cleanse an entire population and steal their land based on what your religion tells you. If the Zionists had merely immigrated, that would not have been a problem. The problem is what they did to the Palestinians in 1948.

And to you, Jews exercising their freedom of speech is the same as declaring war.

No, to me, ZIONISTS committing ETHNIC CLEANSING is the same as them committing ethnic cleansing.

Then you claim that the BDS movement is the best representative of the Arab people in the disputed territories.

Yeah, it is. Without a doubt.

These are the same people who forced the closure of businesses in PA controlled territory that provided the best salaries, working conditions, and benefits by far.

Yawn! Palestinian civil society - when they called for a global boycott - already decided that this is a very small price to pay in order to achieve their freedom. Oh, and also:

https://palestinianliberator.tumblr.com/post/140378641412/the-independent-jew-jewishwarriorprincess

Anything else?

But hey, creating discontent and discord is good if you want to keep the fighting going.

Israel created discontent and discord, not BDS.

Preventing Israel from creating bridges and harmony with the Arabs is the priority.

Oh, just fuck off! The only necessary bridges already exist: the bridges leading from Jordan into the West Bank. They’re the bridges which I expect the Palestinian refugees in Jordan and Syria will use when they finally get to go home.

But I guess living in Sweden, you could care less about the plight of the Arabs because you can assuage your feelings by knowing that you are morally pure by supporting BDS.

What does me living in Sweden have to do with anything?

By the way, are you using a computer with an Intel processor? Perhaps you use Bing or Google for your searches?

All developed in Israel.

I don’t think you understand what BDS actually means. Also, would you be okay with someone throwing you out of your house and living in it instead, as long as they invented some stuff while they were there?

Then you go on to say that Hamas has suddenly decided to not want to destroy Israel because of making one statement.

They do want to destroy Israel - but not Israelis.

Well, Ras al-Naqurah is a town on the border with Lebanon. Umm al-Rashrash is Eilat, the southern tip of Israel. The River Jordan is pretty self explanatory as is the Mediterranean. So basically, Hamas is still claiming all the land that is Israel.

Yep. Because that is their ancestral homeland.

So Hamas is not in a struggle with Jews, just Zionists, but almost all the Jews who live in Israel are considered Zionists. Great. So a fraction of Israel is now safe from the depredations of Hamas.

Do you expect them to not be in conflict with the people who have been oppressing them for seven decades?

To you,the answer to all the problems is simple: Zionism is the problem. Well, does history back that up? Absolutely not. The Arabs have been regularly conducting pogroms and massacres of Jews long before Herzl ever started the Zionist movement. There was, and this is not the full list, the

1834 Looting of Safed (Arabs attack and looted Safed’s Jewish community)

1838 Safed attack (Again, the Jews are attacked and robbed)

1847 Jerusalem pogrom (started because of a blood libel rumor)

1850 pogrom Aleppo (Eretz Israel was at that time part of the Syria Vilayet)

1848 Damascus pogrom

1862 Beirut pogrom (Again, this was part of Syria Vilayet)

1875 Beirut pogrom

1875 Aleppo pogrom

1890 Damascus pogrom

But hey, Zionism was responsible, right? Or maybe its because the Arabs anti-Semites who can’t stand to live with Jews.

That was antisemitism. What has happened between the Jordan River and the Mediterranean Sea since the passing of the criminal and immoral Balfour Declaration, however, is because of Zionism.

You claim that the Arabs had access to all the land that held by the government prior to Israel’s independence. I have seen nothing that supports that. Some of the areas, probably. All of it? No. And even if you were right, which I do not believe, that did not create ownership rights for them. If it did, I would have ownership rights to several interstate highways because I travel on them regularly.

I don’t own all of Sweden. Yet I have access to the entire country - my home country (which incidentally is also the home country of about 18,000-20,000 Jews).

Furthermore, the Arabs, like every other country, wish to control who can enter their land. To that end, they have banned Jews with certain exceptions. So why then is it wrong for Israel to not allow foreign Arabs to freely roam land that is within Israel’s borders? Oh that’s right, its because they are Jews and Jews are not allowed the same rights as everyone else.

LOL, “foreign Arabs”…

Then you make the claim that Israel never existed before. To an extent, this is true. A nation called Israel did not exist. However, a Jewish political entity did. There was the confederation of the tribes. There was Kingdom of Israel. This was broken up by civil war into the Kingdom of Israel (aka Northern Kingdom of Israel) and Kingdom of Judah. Eventually it was reunited, and it was the Hasmonean Kingdom.

And the Palestinians are the direct descendants of those people - Muslims, Christians and Jews alike.

So “the State of Israel” did not exist. But as a political entity, the Jewish nation did and does exist. Hence why it is Israel’s independence is a reestablishment of the Jewish state.

I don’t follow your logic here.

And then you dodge the question of proof. You make the assertion that the reestablishment of Israel did not have the support of the Jewish community. Its a statement you have made time and again without giving any support. Prove it. Otherwise, its as false as the rest of your drivel.

Are you dense? I’ve already told you that I’m not going to prove a negative! Once again: the burden of proof is entirely on you. You have to prove that most Jews did support a Jewish state in Palestine at the point of Israel’s creation or in the preceding decades. But you won’t be able to do that, because they didn’t.

Then, because you don’t like DNA studies, claim that Jews cannot be related because we do not look like each other.

They can be related in the sense that they might have had a common ancestor, but they are not in any way, shape or form a single people. They lived thousands of kilometers apart, in different countries, on different continents, speaking different languages and eating different foods - and yes, they also looked completely different.

The Jewish people were exiled from their home in Eretz Yisrael. And quite literally we were scattered to the four corners of the planet. So yeah, I’m not going to look like a Cochin Jew. Hell, even though I am Ashkenazi, I don’t look like any other Ashkenazi Jew. But that does not matter.

Nonsense. Why would the Roman Empire have expelled an entire population after the Bar Kokhba revolt instead of keeping them on the land and taxing them? It makes no sense. A land without a people is worthless as a province.

That means “I am a Jew.” And the studies show that the Jews come from Israel. So whether I look like Jackie Mason, Paul Newman, or Peter Sellars, is irrelevant. I am Jewish. I am part of the tradition, religion, and nation that goes back five millennia, just as anyone else who joined up along the way is.

What studies? And do those same studies also show that Palestinians don’t come from that same area?

The Tsar’s subjects, the Roman soldiers, Nazis, and the Arab terrorists never cared about how far back my family goes in the community. They attacked us all the same. So I do the same when I consider whether someone is “Jewish enough”. Its an in or out thing which someone like you does not get to decide.

When did I ever try to decide that?

As far as Rafeef Ziadah is concerned, I suspect she supports terrorism. After all, this is a woman who has no trouble avoiding directly answering her family’s history.

What about her family history? Why should she even have to answer that?

She also has promoted the lie, which has long since been debunked, that the IDF regularly rapes Arab women and attempts to harvest Arab organs for sale.

Why do Palestinians have to be infallible to you in order to speak for their own liberation?

She has been calling for the repudiation of the Oslo Accords.

Of course she has. The Oslo Accords are completely unjust.

#jews #israel

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drubblernews-blog · 7 years

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New Post has been published on http://drubbler.com/2017/01/24/the-junta-will-carry-shock-ukrainization/

The junta will carry shock ukrainization

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Sergey Belov, January 24, 2017, 14:46- REGNUM

is understandable negative reactions of Russians to the attempts of Ukrainian nationalists hold total Russification policy inside Turkmenistan and banderizaciju of Ukraine. Only and should not be resent. In the end, did someone took offense at Nazis, which at that time pursued a similar policy? That’s right: in the occupied territories should be mired in another language orders of occupation, other heroes and other monuments.

the other day in the Verkhovna Rada of Ukraine has registered the Bill # 5670 “on language”. Thirty-three people chosen suggested that Ukrainian mandatory use in all spheres of State and public life. Control over the execution of the law want to entrust the special language inspectors. It planned to fine violators, and the introduction in Ukraine of official multilingualism» offer equated to an attempt to overthrow the Government.

there is nothing to say, draconian law proposed to take the people’s deputies, especially considering that half of the population of Ukraine Russian is the native language. Theoretically, any Russian person should oppose this law, but in practice everything is not so simple. Moreover, the Russians should welcome an all-out ukrainization Nezalezhnoj.

first of all, it must be recognized that Ukrainian is the State language only de jure. Be that as it may sound ironic, but the de facto language of the national minority. To better represent the full tragedy of the situation is worth mentally put themselves in the place of total supporters of ukrainization. Any resident of the province (by the way, the authors of the law in the majority of provincials) arriving in Kiev with bewildered finds that Metropolitan residents speak mostly in Russian. The representative of the titular nation is causing the same kind of shock, as if a Russian one morning out on the streets of Moscow from all sides heard “zdorovjen’ki buly” instead of “Hello”. Scary? That’s scary to Ukrainians.

Add Russian language dominance in television, where most movies and tv series made in Russia and often are broadcast in their original language with Ukrainian subtitles. Ukrainian radio station also works on Russian material. Local product in Nezalezhnoj are sorely lacking. On the one hand somehow behave sluggishly artists, on the other hand and consumers prefer unpatriotic Russian product. In such a situation, wanting to invest in the production of expensive and high-quality series, films and programs is not.

However, before such nuances supporters total ukrainization. Their business is lawmaking. Russian language dominance they have completely natural causes seizures tantrums. Because the appearance of the draft law “on language” should be viewed not only as a desire of people’s deputies zadjoshevo glorify his name, but their sincere attempt to finally make a language the official language de facto.

I’m not accidentally suggested that under current conditions it is necessary to support Russian adoption of discriminatory law “on language”. Mova should become mandatory for use in all the organs of State power and local self-government. After all, like something bad happens when unable to associate two words to “ridnoj language” officials, at the same time support the nationalist regime and its policies derusifikacii. All of them should be disqualified from their posts and replaced by representatives of the title nation.

Total ukrainization bureaucracy will benefit not only Ukraine, but also in Russia. Note to what heights climbed over the past three years the average level of intelligence and culture of senior government officials in Ukraine. If a similar tradition extended to the entire bureaucracy, it’s more “closer” Ukraine in Europe.

Not less useful the adoption of the law “on language” to Ukrainian media. At the moment, their rating (and therefore revenue owners) largely depend on the purchased product in Russia. Of course, it is a pity that the proposed law does not provide for a complete ban of Russian products, but even more ukrainization movies, tv series and programmes have a negative impact on the financial position of the broadcasters. Therefore, your tax for supporting anti-Russian regime pay oligarchs and their hired workers without different loyalty to Russia.

even more crushing blow will the adoption of the law “on language” of publishing activities in Ukraine. The requirement to print half of the circulation of the publications in Ukrainian language will lead to the fact that much of it will prove to be unclaimed by consumers. Market all put in its place. The consumer buys something, and something is a plant for the processing of raw materials.

all power bodies Nezalezhnoj also need complete ukrainization. In addition to the Medical Board in each Office must enter post “language inspector”, which will take the final decision as to whether to execute a conscript is a sacred duty counsel Nezalezhnoj? Hope so fervently support the ukrainization inhabitants of Galicia will not forget “рidnu language” to avoid mobilization and sent to the “Eastern front”.

can be a problem in Russia will total ukrainization of education? I don’t think so. Citizens of Ukraine will lose the opportunity to get a high-paying job at the Russian enterprises. But considering the de-industrialization of the power Nezalezhnoj, the chances of finding use in science and industry tend to zero.

law “on language” can be seen as another step the nationalists aimed at separation of Ukraine from the Russian world. In my opinion, it is more similar to an act of self-harm. Its adoption could be compared to the “blockade” by Ukrainian Patriots gave the inhabitants of Crimea. Those who have suffered from these actions? From the gap of trade and economic relations with Russia, they also suffered.

However, in my opinion, the likelihood of the adoption of the law “on language” is equal to zero. This is partly due to the above reasons. The truth about them in Ukraine would prefer to ignore. Most likely the law will block some defenders of the rights of the Russian-speaking population, formerly belonged to the party of regions. They, like their counterparts very ukrainizatorov like to use language problem to win the sympathy of the Russian voter. Because the povojujut languages of deputies among themselves and come to the conclusion that, for the sake of a unified Ukraine should postpone the adoption of the law.

personally I really want Ukrainian Patriots joined forces and took the Act. Ukrainian language should make not only de jure but also de facto the official language. The Russian, who, because of short-term considerations entered the Ukrainian project, seek on their own back to feel all the charm of an all-out ukrainization. In the end, it is because of the policy of “pro-Russian” forces in Ukraine that Russia itself, contributing to a “soft ukrainization” and “banderizacii”, we got that Ukraine, which exists now. Shock therapy in the economy has already opened many eyes to the true face of Ukrainians of Ukrainian Patriots. It would not hurt just as shock therapy to undertake in the field of ukrainization.

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