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bfpnola · 8 months

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definitely a longer piece so these excerpts are far from showcasing everything this piece has to offer! read the whole thing on your own time, and in general, just check out jewish currents, an educational, leftist, anti-zionist jewish magazine!

Every August, the township of Edison, New Jersey—where one in five residents is of Indian origin—holds a parade to celebrate India’s Independence Day. In 2022, a long line of floats rolled through the streets, decked out in images of Hindu deities and colorful advertisements for local businesses. People cheered from the sidelines or joined the cavalcade, dancing to pulsing Bollywood music. In the middle of the procession came another kind of vehicle: A wheel loader, which looks like a small bulldozer, rumbled along the route bearing an image of Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi aloft in its bucket. For South Asian Muslims, the meaning of the addition was hard to miss. A few months earlier, during the month of Ramadan, Indian government officials had sent bulldozers into Delhi’s Muslim neighborhoods, where they damaged a mosque and leveled homes and storefronts. The Washington Post called the bulldozer “a polarizing symbol of state power under Narendra Modi,” whose ruling Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) is increasingly enacting a program of Hindu supremacy and Muslim subjugation. In the weeks after the parade, one Muslim resident of Edison, who is of Indian origin, told The New York Times that he understood the bulldozer much as Jews would a swastika or Black Americans would a Klansman’s hood. Its inclusion underscored the parade’s other nods to the ideology known as Hindutva, which seeks to transform India into an ethnonationalist Hindu state. The event’s grand marshal was the BJP’s national spokesperson, Sambit Patra, who flew in from India. Other invitees were affiliated with the Hindu Swayamsevak Sangh (HSS), the international arm of the Hindu nationalist paramilitary force Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS), of which Modi is a longtime member.

...

On December 6th, 1992, a mob of 150,000 Hindus, many of whom were affiliated with the paramilitary group the RSS, gathered at the Babri Masjid, a centuries-old mosque that is one of the most contested sacred sites in the world. Over the preceding century, far-right Hindus had claimed that the mosque, located in the North Indian city of Ayodhya, was built not only upon the site where the Hindu deity Ram was born but atop the foundations of a demolished Hindu temple. The RSS and its affiliates had been campaigning to, in the words of a BJP minister, correct the “historical mistake” of the mosque’s existence, a task the mob completed that December afternoon. “They climbed on top of the domes and tombs,” one witness told NPR. “They were carrying hammers and these three-pronged spears from Hindu scripture. They started hacking at the mosque. By night, it was destroyed.” The demolition sparked riots that lasted months and killed an estimated 2,000 people across the country.

The destruction of the Babri Masjid was arguably Hindu nationalism’s greatest triumph to date. Since its establishment in 1925, the RSS—whose founders sought what one of them called a “military regeneration of the Hindus,” inspired by Mussolini’s Black Shirts and Nazi “race pride”—had been a marginal presence in India: Its members held no elected office, and it was temporarily designated a terrorist organization after one of its affiliates shot and killed Mohandas Gandhi in 1948. But the leveling of the Babri Masjid activated a virulently ethnonationalist base and paved the way for three decades of Hindutva ascendance. In 1998, the BJP formed a government for the first time; in 2014, it returned to power, winning a staggering 282 out of 543 seats in parliament and propelling Modi into India’s highest office. Since then, journalist Samanth Subramanian notes, all of the country’s governmental and civil society institutions “have been pressured to fall in line” with a Hindutva agenda—a phenomenon on full display in 2019, when the Supreme Court of India awarded the land where the Babri Masjid once stood to a government run by the very Hindu nationalists who illegally destroyed it. (Modi has since laid a foundation stone for a new Ram temple in Ayodhya, an event that a prominent RSS activist celebrated with a billboard in Times Square.) The Ayodhya verdict came in the same year that Modi stripped constitutional protections from residents of the Muslim-majority region of Kashmir and passed a law that creates a fast track to citizenship for non-Muslim immigrants, laying the groundwork for a religious test for Indian nationality. Under Modi, “the Hinduization of India is almost complete,” as journalist Yasmeen Serhan has written in The Atlantic.

To achieve its goals, the RSS has worked via a dense network of organizations that call themselves the “Sangh Parivar” (“joint family”) of Hindu nationalism. The BJP, which holds more seats in the Indian parliament than every other party combined, is the Sangh’s electoral face. The Vishwa Hindu Parishad (VHP) is the movement’s cultural wing, responsible for “Hinduizing” Indian society at the grassroots level. The Bajrang Dal is the project’s militant arm, which enforces Hindu supremacy through violence. Dozens of other organizations contribute money and platforms to the Sangh. The sheer number of groups affords the Sangh what human rights activist Pranay Somayajula has referred to as a “tactical politics of plausible deniability,” in which the many degrees of separation between the governing elements and their vigilante partners shields the former from backlash. This explains how, until 2018, the CIA could describe the VHP and Bajrang Dal as “militant religious organizations”—a designation that applies to non-electoral groups exerting political pressure—even as successive US governments have maintained a warm relationship with their parliamentary counterpart, the BJP.

...

The most extreme figures in the Hindu nationalist and Zionist movements were especially frank about the nature of their partnership: “Whether you call them Palestinians, Afghans, or Pakistanis, the root of the problem for Hindus and Jews is Islam,” Bajrang Dal affiliate Rohit Vyasmaan told The New York Times of his friendly relationship with Mike Guzofsky, a member of a violent militant group connected to the infamous Jewish supremacist Meir Kahane’s Kach Party.

...

In 2003, Gary Ackerman—a Jewish former congressman who was awarded India’s third-highest civilian honor for helping to found the Congressional Caucus on India—told a gathering of AJC and AIPAC representatives and their Indian counterparts that “Israel [is] surrounded by 120 million Muslims,” while “India has 120 million [within].” Tom Lantos, another Jewish member of the caucus, likewise enjoined the two communities to collaborate: “We are drawn together by mindless, vicious, fanatic, Islamic terrorism.”

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jacevelaryonswife · 10 months

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Do you need help, neighbor?

Tom Bennett was a problem you should avoid, but why was he everything you thought?

∴pairing: Tom Bennett x Fem!Reader

∴warnings and a note: kissing and flirting, also, english is not my first language. This story is a continuation of “Do you need help, ma’am?”, but I tried to make it understandable without having to read the previous part. 2,8k of words.

part one | other characters from ewanverse

It had been a short time since you moved to Manchester. Your house was nothing chic or modern, but the neighborhood was well located and quiet, everything a young woman needed. You didn’t used to leave the house much besides work and grocery store, worried about not generating rumors about your life to others, especially because you’re a woman who lived alone, without parents, husband and children. What could be worse than becoming a reason for lies and gossip?

There were worse things than that in fact, such as experiencing the war that was currently taking place, it was terribly scary for you to imagine a sudden Nazi invasion, but if it was already horrible just to think about it, imagine being present in all horror? You felt sorry for your neighbor Douglas Bennett for dealing with the constant fear of losing his youngest son to such brutality. He was a good man and a helpful neighbor, as was his daughter Lois, who became a good friend of yours over the weeks. Both facilitated your adaptation in the new home and were so kind.

That's why that day you decided to thank them for such generosity by making a dinner at your house. You knew that their financial condition wasn’t the most favorable, so you insisted that they didn’t worry about taking anything since your salary was enough to cover your expenses. But then, a peculiar event happened earlier, and his name was Tom Bennett.

When your sink had problems a few days ago you thought it would be fleeting, however, the insistence of the small leak in the lower siphon was starting to bother. Accordingly, you decided to turn to Mr. Douglas for help, but to your surprise, in front of his door — next to yours — was another younger Bennett, dressed as a sailor and holding a cage with a small bird. From then on, things became confusing, hot and daring. Tom Bennett not only solved the situation of your sink but also kissed you like no man had done before. He was a total menace!

You knew that this shouldn’t have happened, mainly because you were a respectful and single lady (and especially because you just met him), but all you thought about throughout the day was his lips on yours, hands running your body and sharp words in your ears. Unfortunately, you haven't stopped remembering what happened throughout the day...

"A pretty thing like you don't have a ring on your finger, were you waiting for me, ma'am?" he smiled maliciously.

While going to the local grocery store to buy some ingredients that were missing for dinner.

"What kind of thanks would you like to receive, Mr. Bennett?"

His smile wideened as he leaned his hand on the table behind you, very close to your waist. "One that only a man and a woman could do."

While cutting the onions and cooking the potatoes.

"This was surprising, miss, I didn't know you had all this," he provoked with his little side smile, hands, which were previously fixed on your hips now circled patterns around your waist. "But I would love to know more where this came from," he whispered close to his lips, returning the tightness in his body.

While going to the bathroom to pee (yes, you read this).

In fact, Tom Bennett was a problem you should avoid, but why was he everything you thought?

Fortunately Lois interrupted what could happen earlier, luckily for you Tom cooperated in the situation. If she suspected something she didn’t let it appear on her smiling face, but previously, in one of the many gossips in your kitchen, Lois commented on the reputation of her younger and rebellious brother, he was a problem boy with a good heart. And great lips and big hands too...

God, you were in trouble!

However, just as there was a chance of him appearing the opposite was also possible, and you counted on it, because it would be easier to pretend that nothing happened without him being present with that little shitty smile. You left the bread in the oven to keep it warmer while organizing some things in the living room and went up to take a relaxing bath on your day off. You put on a beautiful and modest blue dress with a pair of pearl earrings that matched your necklace, in addition to applying a little makeup to highlight your beauty (and for him to appreciate if he accompanied his family, which you hated!).

One wave of nervousness flooded your body after going down the stairs and sitting on the couch, waiting for them while pinching some cookies before dinner. Intentionally your mind wandered and began to imagine him on top of you right there, exchanging scorching kisses with each other.

Your thighs tightened for a second before the touches came from the door. It was them. You almost jumped off the couch and adjusted your dress before taking a deep breath and looking through the crack of the window to see if...

The bastard came! And I still had that damn smile!

How handsome he was... damn it!

You opened the door with a discreet smile, looking naturally at all three at the same time.

“Oh, hi! Lois, you didn't have to bother!" You said when you saw the medium lane she was holding, making room for the Bennetts to enter.

“I know, I know, but we didn't want to come with nothing and it's just a simple pie,” she smiled openly at you.

“Mr. Bennett, good night,” you greeted him with a handshake, then looking at the tallest (and most beautiful) Bennett without knowing how to greet him. Would Tom be too informal? Would Mr. Bennett be repetitive? You didn't know, so you decided to be simpler: "Hi, welcome."

“Thank you, miss,” he smirk with pout.

"Where do I leave that?" Lois asked, attracting your attention from the piece of bad path in front of you.

"In the kitchen," your voice failed a little, in the fortunately they didn’t seem to notice. You smoothed the dress before guiding them to the dining table, keeping yourself in front of and away from the sailor (who wore a gray sweater and pants in the same tone).

“The smell is amazing! Did you make bread?" She asked excitedly.

"Yes I did, I hope you like it." You put the soup pot in the center of the table along with the bread pan, without realizing that the moment you bowed over the stove your rebellious neighbor looked at your ass covered by the dress. A lovely and seductive little thing, according to him.

“It's nothing compared to what you did for me at that time, but thank you,” you looked between Douglas and Lois, sitting at the table after distributing the dishes and cutlery.

"Oh, it's not for that much!" She said before guiding you in a quick prayer. “Amen,” he echoed in unison.

And then, you felt a soft smoothing on your leg with a firm material like a shoe. On the other side of the table, right in front of you, he was with a cheeky and discreet smile. Bloody hell! Would be a long night.

“So, you have already met,” Douglas said to you and your son with a pleasant face.

Before Tom could reveal anything, you anticipated his answer. "Yes, he fixed my sink earlier, he was very kind."

“I'm sure so,” the eldest replied as he looked at his son, seeing his fun feature. So far the most feared Bennett was in a comfortable silence, but he decided to change things (to your concern).

“It's a sin to deny help to a beautiful lady,” he brushed your leg again under the table.

“Oh!” That's all you sketched in false animation.

"Don't mind him, Tom is very talkative, I don't know how you didn't get tired," Lois said, "and by the way, the soup is delicious."

Your response and that of the sailor were synchronized:

“Thank you!”

“Hm, I think she appreciated my company much more than you think,” he smirk.

You wanted to melt into the chair with what Douglas and Lois could think about the statement, so you pushed his leg away when he tried to reach yours again and countered: "he's pretty funny," you kicked him lightly.

Luckily for you, the silence that followed while you ate was quite comfortable, but not long lasting. A few minutes later Lois was responsible for being the magnet that brought things together. “So, how is the job with Mrs. William?”

“Good, it's close to home and the payment is good,” you replied.

“Do you work there? With the father or the son?" Tom asked, obviously curious.

It was a small accounting office run by a family, fortunately they needed extra help and ended up hiring you, but that was before you moved, which made it easier for you to get around.

“With both of them, actually, and Lisa,” you replied.

Taking advantage of the brief distraction of his family, Tom moved his lips in a dirty phrase without sound towards you: "naughty girl,"

When did your kitchen get so hot?

You hated being affected so easily by him, but how to resist those blue eyes and perfectly outlined pink mouth? What about his beautiful face and thin arms and attractive height? And the most aggravating thing: that damn uniform of before.

Another comfortable silence was established, luckily for you. Douglas and Lois spoke a few words about the bread and soup before starting a pleasant conversation about general matters. It was good to get together and entertain yourself with them — something that was needed when living alone.

Until a question made everything change.

“May I use the bathroom?” Tom asked.

"Of course, it's upstairs, but there's a problem with the door and sometimes it ends up getting stuck, if you need help just call," you said.

“Oh he knows, we were talking about the time I got stuck here the week before last,” Lois commented casually, being more revealing than Tom and you could expect.

It went unnoticed at the moment, but when a call upstairs was heard following a "I'm stuck", you were forced to go to it.

"Don't worry, I'll go there."

Poor summer child.

Going up the stairs and stopping in front of the door, you thought how comical it was for him to need your help and decided to play a little about it. “Do you need help, neighbor?”

"I think so, "He replied and you almost swore to see his little smile through the door. "Are you alone?" He asked.

“Yes?”

And so, the door magically opened, just so that your body was pulled into the small and humid room by Tom. An almost scream escaped from your throat when because of the action, your eyes more open. "What are you doing?"

"Is this all for me, miss? I liked it a lot," he smirk seductively, holding your hips and holding you against the door.

"No!" You lied out of breath, holding his shoulders. Ugh, he was so tall and handsome!

"And who is it for? My father? Aren't you too young for him? It will be strange to call you stepmother,” he provoked, making his brow frown with the thought.

"This is not funny! Let me go! Your family is below us,” you tried to keep your voice down.

But the bastard hadn't finished with you yet. The thought of being stuck against the door with his big hands on your hips was dangerous and exciting, and totally welcome at another time, but not now.

"I know, but I couldn't stop thinking about you all day, about your smell, your pretty face, your soft mouth. I know you feel the same way, doll."

He came even closer to you, hovering over your lips with your confident and attractive posture.

“You’re quite convinced, Mr. Bennett,” you murmured, determined to contradict him (well, only vocally).

"And you like that," and then he kissed you sensually, without haste or speed, containing his hands from going down to your ass. Obviously you melted in his arms and returned the slow and demanding movement of the lips, holding around his neck. You wanted this so much. You loved to hate the confidence that Tom exhaled, but what if he was like that with everyone? He had just returned from a horror show, what if he regretted it? What if he didn't want anything serious? You didn't want to be used or badly spoken!

“Stop! We can't do that!" You pushed him away scared and almost ran out of the bathroom, thinking you had left him behind.

"Why? What happened? Didn't you like it?" He murmured right behind you. "Do you have anyone?"

"No!" Before he could ask more, you anticipated back to the table.

Fortunately, your breathing more accelerated than normal went unnoticed by your neighbors who dined calmly. Tom didn't bother you again, but he was restless about what could have happened, it was noticeable. When the pie was broken, you praised Lois' culinary skills and she just said she was the family's favorite, especially Tom's. You asked for the damn recipe — not because of him, but in case things went forward...

And yes, he wasn’t a man who gave up easily, especially a pretty little thing like you, so after his sister and you washed the dishes and everyone got together to talk on the couch, he made a point of sitting next to you. He wanted to be seen by you. It was inevitable that the matter was directed to war, since not only him but Lois was in direct (in the case of himself) and indirect contact with the conflict. He didn't want to keep reliving that in his mind, he just needed a good moment of comfort in the arms of a beautiful woman. You weren't married and certainly found him attractive, so what was the problem?

Tom would do everything to find out why; so, late at night when his father and sister were further ahead on the sidewalk, he touched his pocket and pretended to miss the lighter he was carrying with him.

“I can look for it,” you calmly suggested.

To his surprise, Lois' attitude was favorable to the situation, however, it made him wonder if she would be suspicious of something. “Let's go in dad, it's cold out here,” she said, opening the door of the house next door, their house.

And then, you allowed him to enter again, but remained on your back all the time. There were two options he could venture into, the first: circle your hip and flirt with you until he was embarrassed and shy, which was a delicious sight. The second, a more mature attitude than he used to have, was properly chosen.

“I would like to apologize for what happened before, if I did something you didn't like or wanted, it wasn't my intention,” he said carefully.

“Thank you.”

"... I just wanted to know what happened in the bathroom. Do you have someone or just didn't like the kiss?" He insisted.

"It's not that," you turned to face him, "I'm a single woman, Tom, without a husband or relatives, and I'm new here! I don't need people to say things about me."

"Who cares what the others will say?" He asked.

“I do! I care about it and I don't want a reputation that doesn't fit me. It's not appropriate, and we just got to know each other." You justified it. "You're very handsome and confident, annoyingly confident, but we can't do that, I don't want to have my feelings hurt."

"Do you think I would tell someone?" He asked even more seriously than before.

"I don't know, I don't know you."

"What if you know it? What if I am nothing less than a gentleman who will invite you to dinner without ulterior motives? What if I want to meet my beautiful neighbor properly?"

Your surprised look was quite expressive when you heard his question, breathing a little deeper than before. Would you believe his intentions?

"Do you want to get to know me or is it just a way to make me give in?" You asked.

"You’re tough in the fall, I truly appreciate it in a woman," he joked, sending a look full of flirtation (it was inevitable). "Let's do the following, go meet me and draw your conclusions, nothing will happen as long as you don't want to and I promise that whoever says something about your reputation will take some soups. What do you say?"

And then his mouth opened before closing again. "Only if you behave properly."

Oh boy, you wouldn't regret it. "It's a deal, miss."

═════════════════════

I’m thinking of doing another part of this.

for this story: @inechoingsilence @bellaisasleep

general taglist: @chompchompluke @fan-goddess @kravitzwhore @partypoison00

ewanverse taglist: @aemonds-fire @partypoison00 @schniiipsel @fan-goddess

#tom bennett #tom bennett x reader #tom bennett x you #ewanverse masterlist #ewanverse #tom bennett x female reader #tom bennett x fem!reader #fluffly #flirting #kissing #world on fire #ewan mitchell

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rogersideup · 1 year

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Nice to be Kneaded

Nice to be Needed

Series Masterlist

Previous part: Inhale, Exhale Next part: Captain-what’s-his-butt

Word count: 4,465

Warnings: My blog is 18+ only. All minors or blogs without an age in bio will be blocked. Minors DNI. Descriptions of anxiety attacks and mental health issues.

Steve made sure to show up at your place at exactly 11 am. He wasn't sure what you had in mind for the day, so he settled for his usual jeans and t-shirt with a hat on his head and sunglasses in his pocket just in case.

When you opened the door, you welcomed him in with no hesitation. His first thoughts were about how trusting you continued to be. You had no more than three conversations with him. What if he turned out to be a murderer? A criminal?

Well... technically... he was a criminal. And a fugitive. And he did kill a few nazis back in his day...

But that was exactly his point. Of course he would never hurt you, but what if he was someone a little shadier, a little more rough around the edges?

As the day went on, he continued learning just how infectious that energy was. He found himself having to hold back even more personal information from you. None of what he told you to fill in the gaps of the life he once knew was a lie. He still couldn't lie to you. So instead he just gave you vague information.

And as you showed him around town, you started to learn more about him. At the coffee shop, you learned he used to serve in the military and work for the government, but a lot of the details were hidden behind walls confidentiality he couldn't break.

He told you at the earth history museum that he was a New York native, his mother and father were no longer around. At that same place he learned you recently lost your father due to an unfortunate circumstance, but your mother was still around to make sure all your choices were lining up to the big list of life long plans she made for you. You were raised in sunny California, but came here to start a life with an ex-boyfriend who had done you wrong. But you were settled, and uprooting once more seemed like too much of a burden. Greenwood sucked you in fast, and you didn't know if you could adjust to the fast paced California lifestyle again at this point in your career.

You asked more about his career as you walked him through the friendship gardens. His service was great for him for a while, but sometimes working so close to anything in the government made him question his own morals. He hated wondering if he was really doing the right thing everyday, so he left. You also learned that he was thirty-something years old.

Finally you led him to the prettiest park surrounded by even prettier views, and that's when he asked you for a rundown on everyone in the neighborhood just so he could be better prepared for when he inevitably meets the locals.

The summer sunshine on his skin was doing wonders to his mood that had been so sad and honestly depressing the passed couple of days, and you once again got this feeling that he really needed a friend. You were happy to sit in the grass with him and people watch as conversation continued to flow naturally between the two of you.

"S0, what got you into baking?" He asked sounding happier than you had heard him in the short time you've known him.

"I used to bake a lot with my grandmother when I was a kid" You explained. "My earliest memories of baking is rolling and cutting out sugar cookies with her, but if they weren't perfect she would make me squish them and try again."

"So I guess that explains why everything you make is so pretty" He pointed out, watching you run your fingers through the blades of grass.

"It's been conditioned into my brain since childhood" You agreed. "Then after that I guess I just found it interesting. There's so many different kinds of baking, and so many niche sets of skills within it that I just wanted to try and learn everything I could. If I didn't get something right, I'd squish it and try again until it came out perfect."

"Even as a hobby you'd squish the imperfect stuff?"

"Oh yeah, but that's what got me to where I am now. Plus, if you squish it in your mouth, it still counts as squishing it" You pointed out your loop hole.

"Ah, I see" He smiled. "Did this make you more afraid or less afraid of failure as an adult?"

"Let's just say my emotions get very squished when something doesn't come out right the first time" You put it gently with a giggle.

"That's such a cute way of saying you get upset" Steve laughed. "I'm going to start using that from now on. I'm no longer going to be mad, or sad, my emotions are just going to squish."

"I think that's the perfect description" You defended your choice of wording.

"I do too" Steve agreed. "Okay, so you liked to bake, and you created a whole tool belt full of different baking skills. What made you want to start the business?"

"I guess it just seemed like the obvious next step" You pondered.

"I'm sure opening up a place like that is a huge learning curve" he thought out-loud.

"If I could give up the whole business side of it, I would in a heartbeat" You giggled. "Payroll, health code standards, government regulation, employer protection laws... it's all so much to have to put into consideration when making the smallest of choices. Oh! And my taxes are a mess"

"But you're happy doing what you do?"

"It's a dream come true" You smiled. "It's stressful sometimes, but I wouldn't trade it for anything else."

"Mmm" he hummed in acknowledgment. His mind ran far away from him as a man walking his dog passed by on the sidewalk about 15 feet away from where they were sitting in the grass. His Iron-Man shirt caught Steve's eye, and his brain started to wander far away from the conversation.

Your eyes followed his gaze, and when they landed on the Tony Stark inspired street ware, the expression on his face became unreadable to you. At this point in the Captain America versus Iron-Man political split, you we're pretty good at guessing who chose which side then avoiding conversations about it like the plague.

Stating which side you supported so publicly usually elicited the reactions of strangers, either filling their faces with pride or disgust. You swore the nature of this town made the topic like a man hunt, as if someone's opinions made them a great person or a completely terrible person based on whichever side they chose. You'd never met anyone like you, willing to entertain both sides, and willing to understand that there was probably more to the situation the public didn't know and that maybe things weren't as black and white as the insufferably bored, small town and small minded folks made it out to be.

Maybe the borderline sad expression on your neighbor's face was a sign that he possibly felt similarly to you, but you were so exhausted over the constant opinions on the topic being thrown at you so you certainly weren't going to subject him to that either.

"What about you?" You questioned, causing his head to snap towards you.

"What?" He asked, trying his hardest to stay calm. Did you ask him something and he completely missed it? Please don't be about the iron-man shirt...

"Got any big career plans or are you happily retired?" You reiterated.

He visibly relaxed and thought about it for a moment. "I dunno..." he shrugged. "I guess this is the first time in my life where I've realized what I've always wanted and what I've been doing were two completely different paths."

"Well, maybe it's a sign to just enjoy life and whatever it throws at you for a bit." You suggested with a pleasant grin.

"Whatever it throws at me better be peaceful and relaxing for once" He agreed with a big lopsided smile. "Like, I don't know, a park ranger or a librarian."

"An artist! ... a baker?"

"If I was a baker there would be a significant increase of squishing happening" He shook his head.

"But you're an artist! I'm sure your creative eye could translate to something in the kitchen. Sugar cookie decorating maybe?"

"You don't even know if I'm a good artist" Steve laughed. "For all you know I could have the skill set of a toddler"

"You told me you went to art school for a year" You defended yourself. "You'd rather me assume that you had the skill set of a toddler rather than the talent of a person who studied art?"

"It's like the glass half full or half empty debate" He brought up.

"I always think the glass is half full"

"I tend think the glass is not half full, nor half empty. The glass is just is" He explained.

"I guess that's a more realistic way to view it" You pondered. "So rather than you being a beginner or an expert in art, you just are where you are."

"Sure, we'll call it that" He slowly nodded his head.

The two of you spent pretty much the entire day together, and yet when you got back home after leaving him with a friendly hug, something just felt off.

It took a warm bath and a glass of wine to figure out what was bothering you. However, once it was in your mind, you held onto it all night until the morning, all day through work, and an hour after you got home until Georgia got back from the gardening center.

She made you both a cup of sweet tea and sat with you on the porch swing as you vented. The hot summer air and warm breeze payed no mind to the setting sun, it wasn't going to allow the impending moonlight to calm the heat.

"Wait- so why were you hanging out with the hunk in the first place?" She asked, trying to digest all the information you spat at her at over a mile a minute. The slow swing of the bench beneath the two of you did nothing to calm your nerves.

"I was just trying to be friendly and show him around, I thought he could use a friend since all of this is so new to him" You justified.

"And that's the only reason?" She wiggled her eyebrows at you.

"...yeeahhh..." Your voiced raised in pitch.

"I don't believe a single second of that, but go on darlin'" She smirked.

"I dunno, every time I've seen him I get this weird inclination that I need to talk to him, and every time I do it's fine. He's easy to talk to, we have a few similar interests, he's really good about asking questions about me and seems genuinely interested in getting to know everyone here but the second I ask anything about him it's like he turns into this dull, flat, kind've lifeless creature." You explained.

"A creature, huh?"

"Okay, maybe creature is a little dramatic." You admitted. "I just don't understand how someone could go from a really outgoing chipper dude to the saddest lost puppy in the rain in the span of 2 seconds."

"Maybe he's a murderer" Georgia joked.

"Mrs. Georgia Peach, that is not very nice!" You shrieked, bumping her shoulder with yours.

"A stalker! Maybe, he's freshly divorced."

"Are you implying that a divorcee is just as bad as being a murderer or a stalker?" Your head slanted to the side.

"No, not by any means, Baby doll." She giggled. "My point is, we don't know even a fraction of what he might've been through to land him in a whole new town by himself. There are so many situations in which someone could shut down and maybe not be so trusting of people, he could just need some time. It really could be that simple."

"Maybe I just need to put my patience pants on" You sighed. "I know I probably sound crazy, but there's just something about him I can't quite grasp. I want to be his friend, and I'm trying, but he just seems so... sad?"

"If there's one thing I know it's that when you're in a bad place, you unintentionally push people away. Maybe slowly at first then all at once, but the people in your life who stand their ground and walk by your side are always appreciated. Keep trying, push him back very slowly. You'll get there eventually." Georgia brushed your hair out of your face. "But darlin' it's also important to remember that it's not your job to fix him."

Your track record of all your ex-boyfriends came flooding to mind when she gave you that reminder. Everyone who knew the insight of what your past relationship or two was like seemed to be rightfully concerned about who you chose as a partner going forward. "I know." You sighed. "But you know how I am. I love too much way too fast whether it be a stranger I just met or a dear friend of five years. I can't just let somebody that I know pass by without a second thought."

"I know, baby, and everyone who knows you is so blessed to have received a love like yours but not everyone can understand that it's a privilege and not something that they should be taking advantage of." She continued petting your hair, her hand made it to your shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. "You're sweet as pie, anyone from a million miles away could see that. Just make sure you're continuing to make yourself a priority when you're lovin' on everybody else."

"Of course I will." You gave her a reassuring grin. "Remember what I said? I'm happy on my own."

Life proceeded as normal for a few days. Quiet, but normal.

You found solace in your cozy bakery, humming along to the soft music playing over the speaker system as you sat at the decorator's long metal table, decorating sugar cookies for a custom order while your beloved employees prepared to close the store in 15 minutes.

Flooding inside the lines you made with royal icing, the cashier popped her head back in the kitchen that was only occupied by you.

"Someone is asking for you!" She chimed sweetly.

"Thank you! I'll be there in a sec" you looked up.

When you made your way out to the front, you saw Steven in his full glory. The one strand of golden hair that always seemed to have a mind of its own prevailed in it's efforts to never stay in place. Once again, his energy was low and he seemed awfully sad.

"Hey there, honey!" You smiled, even though you recognized that look in his eye. "How are you?" You asked as you walked out from behind the counter to greet him with a warm hug.

"I'm good. Sorry if this is a bad time, I know you guys are closing soon but I haven't seen you around in a few days so I figured I'd stop by real quick just to say hi." He explained.

You looked at the pastry bag in his hand, realizing he had already gotten and paid for a treat. "Not a bad time at all!" You reassured him. "Even if we're closed and you see a light on, just knock on the door and I'll let you in."

Just based off the way you were looking at him, he could tell you knew he was sad. The passed few days have been even more emotionally painful, and it was getting increasingly worse regardless of his effort to make it better.

He tried everything. He ran as far and fast as he could, numbly sat in front of a television playing romcoms, he bathed for hours, drew and painted, read and solved puzzles, but nothing was working.

After a shower, an anxiety attack, pacing around his house for about an hour while seriously considering turning himself in and making this crazy manhunt finally come to an end, he realized the one thing he hadn't tried yet was interacting with another person. So he grabbed his keys and came straight to the only place he knew he'd be warmly welcomed.

"Good to know" He attempted a smile. "What's that?"

He pointed at a big cardboard shipping box sitting on top of a wooden pallet, placed neatly along a wall.

"Oh! That's a new mid-sized stand mixer I ordered since our other one burned out. I went with one slightly bigger then the last and that's how it arrived a few hours ago." You giggled. The shipping situation really did seem dramatic for what was inside the box.

"And they shipped it like that?" He raised his eyebrows at the box.

"Unfortunately" You nodded. "I will say it's a lot heavier than it looks though. The box says 200 pounds so Michael and James from our street are going to come in tomorrow to help me set it up"

"What?" He questioned with an almost genuinely confused look on his face. "I can do it right now."

"... it's two hundred pounds, Steven." You reiterated with a giggle.

Failing to see your point, he handed you the pastry bag in his hands. "Hold my tart"

You took it from him without saying a word, and set it down on the counter before walking behind him towards the box. He bent over and put his hands on it, rocking it from side to side to find its center of balance.

"Oh gosh please be careful, don't hurt yourself" You nagged like a mom, and it actually brought a genuine smile to his face.

If only you knew the real kind've danger he put himself in on a daily basis...

He lifted the box without so much as a grunt or that silly face humans make when something is too heavy. "Holy shit... do you need help?"

"Where do you want it?" He asked, obviously amused that the two men you thought you needed to get the task done were now rendered completely useless.

"In the back, do you need help?" You asked again, and started walking to guide him to the empty counter space you reserved for the mixer.

"Nope, it's totally fine" He shook his head.

He didn't even look like he was struggling.

"Okay follow me" You shook your head in disbelief with a smile on your face as you led him into the kitchen as quickly as you could so he could set it down. "Right here, please!"

When he set it down on the designated counter and you went to grab a box cutter to get it out of the box, you came back still amazed. The two of you opened it up, and he lifted it out of the cardboard and set it where it belonged.

"Easy peasey!" He wiped of his hands.

"And I thought I needed two people for that!" You said loudly with amusement. "What the heck, man! You're ripped."

Steve laughed at your reaction. "What can I say? Moving all that furniture really got my arms in shape"

"No, there's no way that moving a couch made your arms that impressive" You shook your head with a laugh. "You're Hercules. There's no other explanation."

"You're once again giving me too much credit" He shook his head with a smile.

"No need to be humble, Superman."

"Superman isn't real" He rebutted sassily, waving a pointed finger in the air.

You stopped and thought for a second. "... I can't think of a real superhero now that isn't controversial at the moment so we're just going to settle on calling you Superman."

Even though you were being playful and happy as a clam, his mind immediately realized that you would probably hate him if you knew the truth. He couldn't just assume that your thoughts on the Civil War would side with him, and he needed to protect his heart.

Maybe coming here was a bad choice.

"Superman it is" He put on his front that everything was fine. "How about I'll get rid of that pallet in the front while you unwrap all this plastic?"

"No, honey, it's fine. We can take care of the pallet in the morning!" You denied. "You've already helped immensely"

"Please, I insist"

You sighed at the man before a shy smile smeared across your lips. "... thank you"

"I'll be right back"

He took the wooden pallet out from the store and to the dumpster in the parking lot, then made his way back into the kitchen where you had unwrapped the mixer from the plastic it came from and plugged it in. As Steve was washing his hands, you turned it on to make sure it worked, and the swirling sound brought a smile to your face.

"She works?" Steve asked.

"Like a dream" You confirmed. "Thank you so much for the help"

"Absolutely, if you ever need help with anything around here just let me know. I'm more than happy to help out whenever you need."

When you saw how his much his mood changed just from being able to do something for you, you had idea.

From that day on, Steve would come every Friday night to help unload the supply delivery. The 50 pound bags of sugar, flour, powdered sugar and brown sugar kept him occupied for at least half an hour. Especially since he insisted he would reorganize them every week to make sure the new ones made it to the bottom of the stack and the old ones would go on top.

Then it evolved into him staying with you way passed close to watch you decorate. It was fascinating to him, and he was genuinely interested. He'd sit right next to you and ask you why you did things a certain way, how you knew how to move your hand or pick out things like colors or sprinkles.

Soon there after, Friday nights turned into Friday and Wednesday nights. He'd come in after all the employees left and follow you around, you were more than happy to let him.

It was mutually beneficial, you weren't so lonely in the hours required to keep all the custom orders flowing out at the rate they were requested, and Steve finally had something to do.

Sometimes he felt a little bad just sitting there and having hours of conversation without as much as lifting his finger, so as he got more comfortable in your perfect little bakery he'd find things to do.

If you were doing something that required frosting or icing, you'd tell him exactly what color you needed and guide him through making it. He'd mix it all up and put it in the correct kind of piping bag for you, he even got really good at tying off all the ends so it didn't spill out as you squeezed.

Sometimes he'd notice a leaky pipe under the hand washing sinks or wobbling chair legs and he'd fix them up. If there were dishes in the sink that the bakers couldn't get to he'd do them no question. But when there was nothing to do, he'd chat your ear off and you happily listened. He was like your live action podcast, and you learned that Steven knew a whole bunch about a whole lot of different topics.

Nice to be kneaded became his little sanctuary away from home. He looked forward to the days he spent loitering in the shop, and when he got home he loved that his clothes always smelled like cookies.

You added Tuesdays to the mix when Steven asked you to teach him how to make something, anything really. He didn't know if it was because he actually wanted to learn how to bake or if he just wanted a reason to spend more time with you.

He grew to craving your presence on days your schedules didn't match up, and on those days his brain actually had room to think about the reality of what he was doing.

Every time he felt himself growing closer to you, he realized he was only hurting you. Eventually he'd have to go, and that day when you knocked on his door with nobody there to answer would be a hard one. You'd have to process that all the time you'd invested into him were nothing but lies. He knew this was going to end with you hating him, and he knew that would break his heart too.

As close as he was with you, he still wasn't nearly as close as he wanted to be. If his life was in order and his head wasn't always one wrong move away from being on a platter, you would've been swept off your feet by now.

Whenever you smiled and looked at him through your eyelashes, all he wanted to do was kiss it right off your lips. He craved to hold you in his arms, claim you all for himself. But for your sake and his, he stayed an arm's length away.

You deserved better than a fugitive, and you deserved better than whatever he could give to you in his current situation. You definitely deserved better than to be lied to by someone you were devoting so much time and energy to.

So given the circumstances, Steve was doing his best. Plotting ways to let you down easy when the time came for him to go. Maybe if he could fit it in whenever he inevitably needed to run, he'd find a way to tell you with his own mouth. It would be easier hearing it from him rather than a news story or a police report.

But he was sure he had at least a little while longer to figure that out, and he really hoped he did. Because if his time with you taught him anything, it's that he was happy moving around sacks of flour and mixing icing colors for you because it made both of you happy.

He'd tighten all the loose screws, reach every supply on the highest shelf, and barter with your supplier about the astronomical influx of egg prices just for you.

If he had to run as far and fast as he could to a whole different country in a far away place first thing in the morning, he'd always be reminded of the most important lesson you taught him.

It really was nice to be needed.

Next part: Captain-what’s-his-butt

Tag list: @patzammit @bemysugarbean @buckymydarlingangel @happinessinthebeing @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @differenttyphoonwerewolf @themotherof10 @talesofadragon @spikeluv84

To join the tag list, let me know 🤍🧁

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jedi-enthusiast · 4 months

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@confusledqueer apologizes for not responding sooner, it’s been a busy couple days and—honestly—I forgot for a bit.

Moving on-

—————

Me equating some of the things that anti-Jedi people say to antisemitism and, sometimes, outright Nazi-esque rhetoric is not “wild” or “a stretch,” as you’re implying.

Justification of their genocide, denial that it actually was a genocide, a belief that the genocided party “caused” their own genocide, and a belief that they genocided party were wrong or “led astray” while one person was sent to make things right- (via either making them change their ways or outright destroying them/their culture) -are all things I’ve seen people say about the Jedi…

…but they’re also things that people have actually said about Jews.

Take the example I put in the post of someone denying that the Jedi Purge was actually a genocide, and how—by changing “Jedi” to “Judaism” and “Force-religions” to “Abrahamic Faiths”—it sounds verbatim to Holocaust denial.

Or, as another example, people claiming that the Jedi “kidnapped kids to brainwash them”…don’t you see how that sounds like Blood Libel?

So me pointing out that a lot of stuff anti-Jedi people say sounds like antisemitic rhetoric isn’t a stretch, not when a lot of it sounds verbatim to what people are saying with the rise of antisemitism and stuff they have said in the past.

—————

Now, I’m not Jewish, but it’s not just me, your neighborhood White Girl™️, who’s pointing this stuff out.

Actual Jewish people have pointed out the alarming similarities between anti-Jedi rhetoric and straight up antisemitism. So, if you wanna argue about- “you shouldn’t compare real world discrimination to fictional stuff” -then you should probably take that into account.

Go ahead and try telling Jewish Star Wars fans to stop calling out antisemitic rhetoric in the fandom, I’m sure that’ll go down real well.

I also find it hilarious that you’re telling me to be careful about the rhetoric I use in a thread about how I shouldn’t point out that some of the rhetoric other people spout is basically antisemitism rebranded.

And my point in that post wasn’t- “since this is based off of a real world culture/religion, you can’t criticize it.”

My point was- “since this is based off of a real world culture/religion then you need to be careful about how you criticize it, otherwise you might unconsciously be spouting bigoted beliefs and antisemitic rhetoric because you don’t recognize that that’s what it is because you’re saying it about a fictional culture.”

By all means, I get that some people just don’t like the Jedi, that’s their prerogative and we all have our own tastes.

Criticize them, if you feel like it, but don’t go around spouting rebranded antisemitism to do it. I’m sure you can come up with plenty of things to complain about them for without doing so.

—————

Now, I can understand why you might be worried about the slippery slope from this to shit like actual censorship—which, I think we can all agree, is a bad thing. Or how you might think criticizing this could lead to the whole “fandom purity” debate.

My thing is, it all comes down to does it actually harm people?

Perpetuating harmful stereotypes via saying stuff like the Jewish based characters “steal children,” or “lost their way,” or “they caused/deserved their genocide”—that does cause actual harm.

Think about why the “angry black man” stereotype or the “cheating bisexual” stereotype are bad and people- (rightly) -push back against them. It’s the same thing here.

Shipping a problematic ship, calling a fictional serial killer “babygirl,” writing about dark topics*, headcanoning characters as gay or trans…none of that is actively harming people.

(*obviously when writing about dark topics you should tag appropriately so people can avoid triggers, but that’s another topic for another day)

That’s the difference.

And, for the record, I think letting people spout bigotry just because they’re saying it about something fictional is the more dangerous mindset than calling it out.

#star wars #sw prequels #the clone wars #pro jedi #pro jedi order #in defense of the jedi #antisemitism #fandom meta #star wars meta #fandom wank

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the-garbanzo-annex-jr · 2 months

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by Kassy Dillon

“We’re trying to get people to speak up,” Charlie Rich told Poupko when asked why the couple was on the street outside his home. “We’re advocating for peace.”

“How? By harassing Jews?” Poupko asked. “Harassing Jews is peace? What the heck is wrong with you?”

Poupko accused Thabisa Rich of engaging in “Nazi behavior,” to which Charlie Rich responded, “well, you do have a sign that says you support Israel.”

Thabisa Rich encouraged others to come back to the street with her during a livestream after she left the scene.

“You tell me when you want to come back and ask for a ceasefire and ask for this people to stop their hate because they think that they are white and privileged and that they think that their religion is superior than the rest,” she stated. “I need people to show up to this very same street. We need to find a time to come back and show up in numbers and say no, enough is enough.”

“America is a country full of hate and racism and people need to just be honest and understand that is just what it is,” she said.

Poupko said the mayor called him on Monday over concern about the incident.

“The reason he called is because there are many Jews in the neighborhood, and many were very shaken and felt targeted,” Poupko said, adding that his family recently moved to New Haven and had their first pro-Israel sign stolen last month.

Thabisa Rich invoked anti-Semitic tropes about Jewish power and said she would not condemn the terrorist group Hamas in now-deleted posts to her Facebook.

Since Hamas’s October 7, massacre of over 1,000 Israelis, Rich has frequently commented on the war, including stating on February 3 that she does “not condemn Hamas.”

On November 20, she voiced her frustration with people who are not speaking up about the war by invoking anti-Semitic tropes about Jewish money and power.

“Your silence is starting to signify complacency,” she wrote. “I promise I understand that some of y’all have your pockets lined with bosses who are Jewish.”

During the Super Bowl on Sunday, Rich said she was “sick of these Jew focused ads [sic].”

“We have been witnessing Jewish folks inflicting hate,” she said in another post the same day. “It’s not made up.”

Thabisa Rich, who often discusses her status as an immigrant, had multiple now-deleted posts to her Facebook about her disdain for the United States.

In multiple posts to her Facebook she expresses her disdain for America, despite living in the country as an immigrant from South Africa, including calling the U.S. “Amerikkka” and claiming it is run by “DICKtators.”

She commented on the situation with Poupko as well, stating that she was “insulted and intimidated by the jewish family (that just moved in 3 months ago) [sic].”

“She wrote on social media she is being harassed by a Jewish family when she is the one who showed up with a megaphone in front of my house,” Poupko said.

#thabisa rich #harassment #hamas #gaza #south africa #rabbi elchanan poupko #new haven connecticut

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power-chords · 6 months

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Often I feel very angry. It is hard to explain this even to my progressive Jewish parents – my Ashkenazi father, and my convert mother who frankly is more observant than I am – sometimes easier with fellow third generation millennials, depending on their milieu. My goyische husband, believe it or not, grasps it quite well because he grew up in Scarsdale. For the 18 years that we lived on East 70th our mezuzah was on the wrong side of the door. We never kept kosher. And yet I went to Hebrew school at Park Avenue Synagogue followed by Or Zarua which are both conservative congregations, a step up from reform and a step down from orthodox. We observed Shabbos, the high holidays; for a while I had a basic comprehension of the loshn-koydesh.

After I was bat mitzvahed I had no desire to see the inside of a temple again. This remained the case for many many years. You know what I learned about besides Torah? (Torah study, the ritual of Saturday morning services, was actually the good part.) Israel. At length. A country I felt no connection to whatsoever, that I had no desire to ever visit, that alienated me from my own Jewish identity as a diaspora New Yorker growing up in (what was, then, much more so!) a diverse neighborhood with kids from every ethnic and religious background imaginable.

You know what I learned NOTHING about? Yiddishkeyt. German expressionist cinema. Postwar American Jewish literature. Philosophy and psychoanalysis and dialectics and dialogics. Art, literature, theater, folklore. You would think that institutions theoretically devoted to the preservation of Jewish life in America would take a greater restorative interest in what the Nazis attempted to wipe from the historical record. You would be wrong.

The irony doesn’t end there. According to Dad my grandfather would not speak a word of German in the house – understandable after they've gassed your entire family to death – and he was resentful, for a little while, that on account of this he did not grow up bilingual. Why Martin refrained from speaking Yiddish around his American children had nothing to do with a rejection of Jewishness per se and everything to do with the guarantying of a more prosperous future. Metallurgy and manual labor sentenced him to a hard life and an early death. Despite chronic exhaustion and physical pain, he would bring my young father to public lectures at Yale on anything and everything related to the space program. He supported and cultivated his two sons’ every personal and intellectual interest. He ferried my grandmother to and from her performances along the Borscht Belt circuit, which back then was still a thriving scene. He was a state-raised orphan who lost everything and nevertheless managed to give everything. When she grew too old and infirm to do so herself any longer, he even cared for the cranky old bitch of an aunt who turned him away when he first washed up alone as a teenager on a totally foreign shore. I have tears in my eyes just typing this.

It is my parents and grandparents whose memory I hold sacred, the culture they swallowed or sacrificed in the hope of a new beginning – not for themselves, but for their loved ones. That a certain continuity could be transmitted and traced despite all efforts to either disguise or remake it, that there is an inextinguishable spark of recognition in language and expression and sensibility, is miraculous. It defies the nation state. And it will outlive the nation state.

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damazcuz · 2 months

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I've only had this account for about 5 years now. But I've been on tumblr for 13 years, since I was 16 and just starting to learn who I was, what transgender meant, what the world looked like at the time for a group I was swiftly realizing included me.

And for 13 years I have consistently used this site and stayed on, occasionally blog hopping when things felt stale or if things got bad. And things got bad sometimes. You'd get people calling you nasty things in your ask or replies or reblogs or tagging your username to sic their followers on you. And tumblr has always treated targeted harassment as a "Sorry you feel that way. That's not against tos though! Was this answer helpful?" issue whenever it's reported. They've never cared against abuse on their website, IN THE EXCEPTION of cases in which radfems and nazis have maliciously mass reported users for MAYBE hitting their breaking points and MAYBE snapping and saying something stupid that could be used as an excuse. Could be something today or four years ago in your archive but at some point, you had a bad day and posted something that could make tumblr say finally, we can get rid of a pest! or you were just transgender and said as much. A little too loudly in front of the wrong mod.

And this sounds so silly to say. But when you live in a website for 13 years and it's where you have your primary interactions with so many people and where you've met so many of your friends! It starts to feel like your community. Like an apartment building we all live in and visit each other's apartments and talk and decorate and laugh and play. And it's a bit of a dump and we all laugh about the crumbling peeling wallpaper and the slumlord that runs the place. We know the landlord isn't our friend, they just want us to pay rent until we're no good for it anymore. Produce the posts that make this site anything more than a hate forum, make the memes and the art and the posts that end up everywhere from your little sister's pinterest to your mom's Facebook to your uncle's meme subreddit. Keep up the garden and don't pile trash on the curb or you're out. This is "the queerest place on the net" only because queer people live here and hung on with our fingernails to stay here because if you have to leave, what's your fallback? You like your neighbors. They can't all come with you. They won't. Even the kind of crumbly parts feel like home after a while.

Like I want to clarify that Tumblr's reputation as a funny place to chill and scroll and meet people and see new things is not from the transphobes working on staff. Their job is to turn a profit or at least keep it LOOKING profitable, so the site can sell to the next moron to buy it out. The fun and joy of Tumblr is us. WE made this place. When you tear down our decorations and rip out our furnishings and toss us out on the street and look at what's left to show the next prospective tenant, it's a fucking dump. There is nothing left but the shittiest people in our neighborhood who are allowed to stay and make hate posts about us. There's the framework for "someone could make pretty posts here! It's a fixer upper!" But it's shit. It sucks.

I've been spiraling since yesterday over a couple of things I'm not taking well. One is work. "They can't fire us all!" I always joke. And people laugh. Last night my boss and I spent an hour and a half in this miserable fucking meeting, talking about the pressure pushing down on our load bearing team. We fantasized over all 8 of us being able to say "that's enough. I'm better than this. We are all walking out today and we will not come back. Don't text." And we can't. None of us can lose the stability of a full time job that pays kind of okay even though it's killing you. None of us can face that uncerainty. I left with chest pain. It was my first day back after major surgery. I went home and sat in one spot for over six hours almost unmoving, crying and just in disbelief of how unfair it is. We can't leave. But something has to give before my team dissolves and one of us puts a gun in their mouth. And then we all still have to make our shift. Who else will do all that? Who's going to cover, huh? Clock in.

And I spent the rest of my day, which ran to 4 am before I was able to sleep, wishing I could quit and hating what's happening on tumblr just as much. On a fucking blogging platform. Because this has been my fun sandbox for over a decade and it's always kind of sucked, it's full of cat shit and people throw sand at you and you're getting sunburned but it's fun here. You find your people to play with. And then it's like you remember oh yeah, other people here want me dead. The owner of this place wants me to die. He wants everyone that makes this place cool and fun to die. And he'll turn around and say "yeeeah well you shouldn't have joked about being mean to me." And it's like why am I here! Why am I making posts for YOU?

I can't leave employment. I'm only a couple of weeks, maybe a couple months away from homelessness at any given time, with how tight finances are. "Shoestring budget" would be generous. We're making it through sheer force of will. But I can't quit my job, and neither can anyone else.

But I can leave this place that I've hated and loved for so, so long. The other massive drain on my life that wants to see me shrivel and die. I can get up and go. We could all just go. Mass exodus. And I know it won't happen. Give it a week, ten days. People move along. Yeah, that sucked. Well, here we all still are. Still posting. Still tumbling. Still complaining about the landlord. But most people won't leave. How can you walk on your friends and community, knowing they won't all follow? But how do you continue to stay here watching this happen? I'm already listening to people tell me "so? that doesn't affect me. it doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things. and of course this happened, duhhhh." It's like, feel stupid for getting comfortable here. You should feel stupid for settling in and making it a home and thinking it would be fun here. If you are transgender you are not safe and you are not wanted. Not in the queerest place on the web, either.

It's not about the funny hammer car explosion """threat.""" It was never about the hammer car explosion. That was a dogwhistle through a megaphone to transphobes. Tumblr's darlings. Don't worry. I'll take care of this one that thinks she can speak up against me. And against you. And now there's a defined "REASON" for the ban. Why, Matt hardly knew he was banning a trans woman. All he knew was fear! He had no choice! And you can ignore the ACLU and the claims of systemic transphobia, that's something else. We fixed that!

I want this place to die because it is already rotting. We are scraping at the bones at this point. Walls are crumbling and there's a hole in the floor to the room below and the windows have long been knocked out and the boiler hasn't worked in years. They aren't going to fix it. It has never been the intention to fix it. They want you to leave or die. Whichever. Don't matter. Just get lost. I will find another tenant. I will find another person who will give me more ad revenue. You are replaceable in that sense. Someone else will join tumblr tomorrow. And tumblr will make a buck off them instead.

But they cannot replace the ways in which you and I have made this site livable and bearable and fun. And I want us to leave so that the husk of this place can collapse and blow away in the wind. I want tumblr to take a major hit and I want the loss of ad revenue to HURT THEM. I want a mad scramble to figure out how to fix it all. They can't. They won't. The fix has always been there and it's always been refused. Terfs will never be turned away from tumblr. Neither will nazis. "Sorry you feel that way, but that's not against our tos. Was this answer helpful?"

You know how they say, "it there are ten people at a table and one is a nazi and no one stands up, you have ten nazis"? This feels like that to me. If 20,000 of us wait a week, shrug, and resume joking and playing and say, well, yeah, it's sad that another dozen trans fems were banned last night. But I like it here...

It feels like that. Why are my trans sisters' archives of 5, 10+ years of life and joy being wiped clean? I can't even tell you how many posts I've seen from an op whose url I recognize from last week, but whose username is grey and icon default, because she posted something less than a day ago to say "yo this sucks. Fuck this place and fuck this guy." They've never ever found the terfs and nazis to ban them because they DON'T CARE. Those are the ones they prefer. That they cater to. Post about the ceo being a dumbfuck and in 12 hours, risk losing your community and the ability to look back at your life online. Clean slate. As if you never lived there. Oh, but tumblr isn't a transphobic place. We fired the one and only naughty transphobe on staff who was taking bribes to send out bans. Pay to win moderation. That person's gone. So it's okay and you don't need to worry. It's okay, I promise. It's the queerest place on the web. Get comfortable.

I love my job and I love this place. One of them is going to push me to the edge. But I can choose to leave one. You can choose to leave with me. They can't fire us all.

#and i know that i am preaching halfway to the choir and halfway to deaf ears.#you either already care or you don't.#this either affects you a lot or not at all.#you'll either walk out or you'll clock back in and get back to it.#fuck though man. something has to give or it's going to snap. you know?#and frankly i just don't want to play here right now. it sucks a lot.#and it sounds like it's going to start sucking a whole lot more very quickly.#i hope the hellsite explodes. i hope the hammers go everywhere.#have a good night and all.#see you tomorrow or whatever.

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secretgamergirl · 3 months

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I am so sick of poverty.

I am doubled over right now in my broken chair layering my clothes up because it's 20 degrees out and I can't afford heat. I haven't eaten anything tonight because I can't afford food. Things could be worse. I still have electricity. I still have a roof over my head, for now, in a bad neighborhood where I'm too terrified to ever set foot outside and I'm constantly having to deal with screaming, car alarms, and sirens. I have no real way of paying my rent, and haven't in some time. I just keep begging and getting one-off help from people and eventually that luck is going to run out. I genuinely did not expect to still be alive this month, I don't know if I'm going to be a month from now, and I genuinely cannot picture anything that can change my situation.

I'm just sitting here right now thinking to myself, "why is my life like this?" and I really hate how the answer really just is that I'm trans.

If you don't know what that means, and statistically you don't, that means I was born with a really quite boring fluke medical thing where my endocrine system makes certain chemicals in the wrong ratio which, if untreated, completely messes me up with really gross and disgusting physical symptoms and causing all sorts of awful brain issues that make it basically impossible to live... BUT, there's really cheap readily available supplements to get those where they should be and then you're fine. So in a halfway reasonable world, this would just be like how some people need glasses or a hearing aid or any other sort of medication people might need to take for something.

But, we don't. We live in this super messed up world where because being trans is such a rare and uninteresting thing, a tiny handful of weirdos, for reasons beyond my comprehension, have this all-consuming obsession with doing everything in their power to harm trans people, and have spent literally their entire lifetimes spreading utterly bonkers propaganda, lobbying lawmakers, getting onto medical boards, and just acting as traditional good old fashioned stalkers, with the net result being this swirling miasma of false information, stigmatization, mistrust, and of course, depriving people of necessary medical treatment.

One of the nastier specific effects there is that you can't just get the aforementioned medications you need to live a normal boring life as a trans person. There is this whole wild and wacky hazing ritual built into international medical standards where you're literally required to humiliate yourself in public for a good year and make damn sure everyone around you knows you're trans, and can properly make your life hell for it.

So back to my little story here. I'm trans, I decided I would in fact like to have some sort of bearable life with a functioning brain and a minimum of weird gross physical problems, and had to announce this to the world. IMMEDIATELY, I have stalkers out the wazoo. I'm getting death threats. Family isn't speaking to me. Friends aren't speaking to me. People I've worked with/for my whole life cut all ties with me. I just had to sort of start life over from nothing well into adulthood.

And you know, I managed that. I've worked as a journalist and a game designer my whole life, those skills aren't the worst for working on your own, things were starting to get off the ground. This despite/because the whole thing with neo-nazis coming out of the woodwork and attacking trans people both with life-ruining tactics and, you know, guns. But, you know, as fate would have it, some people who don't do proper research put too much stock in some cover stories suggesting that they're actually targeting journalists, and when it shakes out to the contrary, decide to absolutely crush the trans people whose lives are actually in danger and are reporting on this... while at the same time the worst TERF in America is literally getting trans journalists blacklisted, stalking people, teaming up with neo-nazis, all that good stuff.

Anyway, as it happens, basically all the people I've met in rebuilding my life care enough about staying on the good sides of some of the above people, and are all too happy to completely throw me under the bus, not only cutting all ties with me but also starting some horrible rumors and leaking my closely guarded personal details to some particularly frightening people, forcing me to flee my home with just what I can carry out in a day... multiple times. And of course, again, I've lost more or less all of my friends, my ability to find work, and I have the setbacks of sudden homelessness and someone skipping out on a joint charity project with all the donations people had made, burning down all the vital operating resources to boot.

And this of course is all before the whole bit where the site formally known as Twitter spontaneously kicked me off with no chance to exchange alternate contact info with anyone, because wouldn't you know it, the new owner has an irrational hatred of trans people and has neo-nazi stalkers of mine kissing up to him in a way he's weirdly protective of.

But wait, there's more! All these fascist stalkers monitor me at all times to make sure I can't get any work of any kind, and I'm forced to live purely off direct patreon donations and government programs. But that gets into some other fun problems. Stalking comes with identity theft, evading would-be murderers involves changes of legal name and address. These confuse a lot of government databases, so I lack a valid social security card in there somewhere. Also causes problems with paypal. And with medcab programs. And then there's good old fashioned medical discrimination. I haven't seen a dentist in years because the last couple I've been referred to outright discriminate against trans patients. I need some surgery performed, and my health plan keeps telling me I can only see surgeons who have almost no experience if I'm lucky, and a history of horribly botched procedures otherwise.

Oh, and the reason I have no food? I WAS on an assistance program, but in the yearly audit, someone noticed that my rent significantly exceeds my income. You would hope seeing that they'd realize I'm REALLY in trouble and if anything give me more money, but hey, one of those weird bits of propaganda about trans people is that we're all sex workers, so the people handling this case leaned into that bias and are insisting I must be withholding income information with some vague insinuations on what they're speculating, and denying me access to food, BECAUSE I'm losing access to shelter.

So yeah, if people could just be normal about trans people, I'd have no stalkers, still be able to work, see doctors when I need to, and if I had shortfalls still, at least be able to eat. As is... yeah I might just die in the next big cold snap while I try to beg money off people to cover my rent and buy a few cans of soup.

Sorry to be a downer. Patreon link if you want to try to help.

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stealth-liberal · 7 months

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While Jumbler on this site focuses massively on left wing issues and left wing sins (of which Jew Hatred is paramount) I live in a red area, so my life and the lives many other Jews just like me are different.

Jews like us have MAGA nutbags come up to us, apropos of NOTHING, and try to get us to agree with them about the CRAZIEST islamphobic bullshit you've ever heard in your life. For Jews like us, this is the only time right wing antisemites try to do anything other than terrify us or try to bully us out of our homes and neighborhoods, or to bully our children out of the schools. And it's so clearly a trap that they actually think we're stupid enough to fall for, that we might actually play respectability politics for them. That we'll be the "good Jew" that they can point to that they know, so as to defend themselves from accusations of antisemitism or straight being a neo-nazi.

I haven't met a Jew yet who plays along. For Sephardim, MENA, Mizrahi, and Beta Israel Jews... it's so very clear they want them to play "the good darkie" and for many Ashkenazi Jews, it's so clear they want them to twist themselves into knots to prove that they're "white like you". It's a losing game. No Jew can be "the good darkie" enough for them. No Jew can be white enough for them. They will ALWAYS toss us into the fire.

In my city, we have Jews and Muslims, and we don't have the option to tear each other apart. There is an embedded hate element here, and for the most part, we watch each other's backs. It isn't always perfect, but I don't mind watching my Muslim neighbors back, and they don't mind watching mine, and so on and so forth.

Why am I writing about this? Because since the war in Israel began, I have had some stomach churning experiences in my town. Many of them some right wing fuck nugget trying to get me to agree that we should do some sort of violent act towards Muslims in this country because... blah, blah, blah. And when I back away and vehemently don't agree, they practically turn purple with rage and yell at me. I live in a city that Marjorie Taylor Greene visited on her Jewish Space Laser tour. So it's just a day ending in Y for me. It's clear they want to scare me, but I used to be a Marine, don't let the makeup fool you, I can take care of myself easily. That kind of thing doesn't scare me.

But I want to be clear. I hate Hamas with every fiber in my body. I support Israel's right to exist and to defend itself. I do not, nor have I ever hated Palestinians. They're just people, individuals. I do not, nor have I ever hated Muslims. They're just people, individuals. No Muslim that I've ever known has made me feel unsafe, hated, or in any way fearful. I've spent too much of my adult life in areas with small or even tiny Jewish populations to turn away someone who's willing to reach out and watch my back. I think most of the Muslims I know have had the same situations.

So if one more fucking right-wing antisemite/islamaphobe comes up to me and tries to get me to agree to some Muslim hatred nonsense... I swear to G-d, they're getting my hands in their teeth. Same goes for online encounters. Though instead of hands, you'll get blocked and reported.

I have been dealing with intense antisemitism both in my real life town and online. I refuse to add islamaphobia to that shitty cocktail. Go find some other putz, I'm not the one. I'm heartbroken and enraged right now. Don't try me. I'm not your fucking pawn. Jews are not your scape goats nor your pawns.

#sl speaks #jumblr #jewish #israel #right wing antisemitism

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odinsblog · 2 years

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Appeasement does not work.

Appeasement didn’t work for Hitler, appeasement didn’t work after the Budapest Memorandum, appeasement didn’t work for Crimea and Dunbas, and appeasement won’t work now.

This is not about “denazification” of Ukraine. Remember, Russia has Nazis, and so does America and many other nations. Is Putin going to attack all of them too?

To be clear: Obviously I am NOT excusing Nazis anywhere, but much like the Jewish Holocaust survivors who were happily living in Odesa Ukraine—who do not welcome Putin’s alleged Russian saviors—as a Black man, I too would be kinda pissed if Russia started indiscriminately bombing tf outta my neighborhood to “denazify” it (and that’s despite the fact that I saw a ton of Trump flags in my hood during the last two election cycles). It’s bullshit. Russia recently used an antisemitic “argument” to disregard Zelenskyy’s Jewish heritage. It’s a bullshit argument. Putin wants to “denazify” Ukraine, about as much as George W. Bush wanted to bring “democracy” to Iraq, Afghanistan and every other country we’ve invaded.

Mikhail Gorbachev himself said that NATO expansion was never an issue. It’s revisionist history to say otherwise, but that’s not stopping Putin from using it as his current go to argument. Crimea was not a member of NATO, and Ukraine was not in NATO nor seeking membership when Putin attacked. And tomorrow, it will be some brand new bullshit excuse. But make no mistake: Putin is invading Ukraine and committing war crimes for the exact same reasons all colonizing imperialists do—for dominance, power, land and resources.

Russian imperialism isn’t good just because American imperialism is bad.

And for the “communist” tankies suddenly simping for Henry Kissinger—a U.S. war criminal they hated until last week—all I have to say is this: telling people who were peacefully minding their own business, to “just stop fighting back if you want to end the war,” has got to be some of the vilest shit I’ve seen in a good long minute. Except, I see this mentality all the time. It’s the foreign policy equivalent of telling Black and Brown people to “be peaceful” and maybe the cops will stop attacking you. It’s the equivalent of advising a battered wife to please, “just try not to provoke your abuser, and maybe he’ll stop hitting you.” It is literally endorsing “might makes right.” It’s abuser logic. It’s gaslighting. It’s bullshit advice that has never ever ever worked for anyone smaller who is being systematically harassed or attacked by a more powerful abuser.

“Just give the bully your lunch money today” is terrible advice, it only ensures that the bully will expect to keep on taking your lunch money every single day.

Obviously, no sane person wants any war to continue, but what kind of world do we want to live in if we keep telling smaller countries to just acquiesce to larger countries who invade and attack them, unprovoked?

#politics #budapest memorandum #appeasement #ukraine #tankies #russia #nato #russian imperialism #no war #russian colonialism #bullies #vladimir putin #little putler #adolph putin

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mr-president · 5 months

Note

I have a question (To be perfectly clear this is not an ask trying to strum up controversy, but just my own curiosity of your views, and I love your analysis and how you say things. But if you have nothing to say on this matter feel free to delete this ask)

There’s some controversy in the funger fandom about the writing of the Bremen army, also in Pav. Some people think it’s too sympathetic or the choices that Miro made are in poor taste. Do you have any opinions on this?

CW: fascism, Nazism, antisemitism, and what have you. also, sorry if i get things wrong, again, it’s been a while.

Yes, I do think that portraying a historical, fascist, genocidal regime in Nazi Germany as the Bremen army was in poor taste. It’s one thing to just have a fantastical, fictional totalitarian government and another to use an actual historical allegory as stand in for history. The Bremen army is an allegory for Nazi Germany, there is absolutely no denying that, and Mr. Haverinen made that conscious, authorial choice to make that connection.

However, and this is my personal opinion, I don’t think he properly understood, articulated, or represented the impact that Nazi Germany had on Europe, the world, and especially for Jewish people. And this is a problem, because Nazi Germany still has lingering influences on society and culture today, and Mr. Haverinen’s choice to not only write Nazi Germany in the story but portray it in such a way is…in poor taste.

I understand why Mr. Haverinen likely used Nazi Germany as an allegorical tool—the same reason why he uses religious allegory throughout the story. Because we are all familiar with WW2 and Nazism, we have a general idea and basic understanding of this fictional totalitarian, colonialist regime. And that is perfectly fine and is a valid shorthand storytelling device.

Additionally, the Bremen Empire is still depicted as Not A Good Thing. Like, that’s very clear within the narrative—Mr. Haverinen is not a Nazi and clearly does not support that ideology. However, I do believe that he could have done better in understanding/depicting a sensitive historical subject beyond showing how they are bad. If that makes sense.

My problems with the Bremen Empire are that it:

fails to articulate a coherent ideology as to why their influence is so vast,

gives them a somewhat “good” motive that kind of validates their existence

does not empathize with or represent the minority group (Jewish people) who were most affected by this historical tragedy.

For 1), though there are references to the Bremen army’s horrific atrocities, it’s kind of hand-wavey as to why they’re really doing it, seemingly only because Le’garde’s general bloodlust and assholeness. I’ll discuss that more in the second point, but I just want to state that Nazi Germany had a legitimate, compelling, and actual ideology behind it that perpetuated the attitude of nonchalance and “justice” that came with the atrocities they committed.

It is not merely power, it was fascism. Fascism cleans up your neighborhood, gives you jobs and school and work, gives you what made you great, and gets rid of what put you down. Fascism creates a problem and posits that the solution is to exclude the…undesirables and raise yourself up to your truest potential.

And here, Bremen fails. Somewhat.

Point 2). Their motive. The ultimate goal of Le’garde’s bullshit is for him to usher in new era of humanity, where he becomes Logic, ascends to new-Old Godhood, and helps humanity overcome the rule of the Old Gods and truly live for themselves rather than their whims.

Ultimately, it’s uncertain if this will be a positive thing, but in Ending A it’s kind of a good thing, especially with Reina becoming Logic instead of Le’garde. Of course, much like Funger 1, it begs the question of “was this suffering all worth it,” but like many people have criticized with Reina’s usage at all, that question doesn’t hit as hard as Funger 1.

And Funger 1 didn’t even need a wholeass Nazi allegory to ask that question. Was the suffering of every innocent civilian worth it to get Logic? To usher in this new era of humanity?

The question seems more on the side of “Yeah” because unlike Funger 1, Logic’s existence is depicted as a good thing for humanity. Thus, Bremen is sort of a “good thing,” that at least it was towards something positive and for the betterment of people everywhere.

Which is…a really awful thing to say when, again, this was an actual fascist regime who discriminated against, subjugated, and had a system that enforced the oppression of numerous minority groups.

Point 3). Not really interacting with the minority groups subjugated. Termina’s cast is pretty much entirely made up of minorities, and many of them do have or would have tangible interactions that conflict with the Bremen army.

Levi and Pav are perhaps the best examples of characters who were genuinely traumatized by the Bremen army, and their actions and characterization are substantial for recognizing the psychological impact colonization has on people.

However…no character or even allegorical minority group is a stand in for Jewish people, who are one of the most affected groups of Nazism.

Ok, there didn’t need to be a Jewish character who actually went through the atrocities of Nazism in graphic, Funger-grade detail. That could be very triggering, and it could also spell problems of getting the story censored. And also, misrepresentation is a genuine thing to fear when depicting something like that.

But to scrub most if not all references of Antisemitism? Isn’t that kinda fucked? I think it’s fucked. Let me know if I’m wrong.

Anyways, I need you (audience) to understand something.

It is imperative to understand that this is Fear & Hunger. These are games which depict suffering, mass, unavoidable, tragic, yet wholly unnecessary suffering. You the player suffer and understand suffering. And then Mr. Haverinen has an allegory for a fascist regime which caused so much mass, tragic, colonialist, yet entirely unnecessary suffering and chose not to depict who were those sufferers.

It’s my own opinion, but if you make Nazi germany you can empathize with the people who suffered from it if your central theses revolve around suffering.

Additionally, I understand that this story is supposed to be a fantastical retelling of history, but girl, like. You could keep the historical allegory and the historical context and just have it be vaguely referenced. But you interact with the Bremen army in the game. Le’garde acts as a stand in for fucking Adolf Hitler.

Like, you could keep the historical allegory and the historical context and just have it be vaguely referenced. But to interact with that history in such a direct manner, on the side of the oppressor? Without much depiction of the oppressed?

In my opinion, Mr. Haverinen doesn’t really have an excuse for depicting what is essentially Nazi Germany in such a strange way. He didn’t need to make an allegory to Nazi Germany. He didn’t need the game to interact directly with Nazis and their leader. He didn’t need to even depict Nazism to begin with, or have it be such a dominant force in the narrative.

For that reason, it is fucking worthy to critique his authorial choices about a major historical tragedy in a game about tragedy.

Of course, you can say “it’s fictional, people shouldn’t be stupid and believe Nazi Germany was actually like this; there are penis gods, don’t be stupid,” but guess what?? People will be stupid. Fiction doesn’t exist in a vacuum, and though I doubt actual Nazis will come about from Funger, I think Mr. Haverinen isn’t absolved of criticism for portraying Nazi Germany in such a way. It still perpetuates harmful narratives about authoritarianism, minimizes the impact of fascism, and what have you.

We unfortunately exist in a society where people could take away that authoritarianism is maybe cool because you get the internet out of it and maybe sovereigns are trying to help society.

We exist in a society where the portrayal of suffering as perhaps a necessary evil for societal gain is the standard. And for a series that seems to want to say something meaningful in portraying suffering, shouldn’t it aim to critique oppression by sympathizing with the oppressed?

Plus, fuck you if you just tell people not to be stupid and to shut up. That has always been a tactic used by privileged individuals to…talk around the issue. But I’m getting off topic—a rant about alt-right or moralist tactics to end or control a conversation is for another day.

Basically, hey. I care enough about this series to write this critique. I care enough about it that I drew it every day in June, and here I am still thinking about it.

Your art can and will be criticized. This is the right of your audience, and you should listen to their critiques. You should be afraid of potential backlash but people will love your work still despite its grievances. And you should try and do better.

And you should talk about problems in representation. That’s like, how things get better. Be a bitch. Don’t let those with the privilege to ignore continued systemic oppression control the narrative and silence you.

On the subject of Pav, I think he’s…fine? He’s basically Russian, and I think the problems with his characters have more to do with the Bremen Empire being poorly written than his character conceptually. Because I think conceptually, he’s fine—illustrates the cycle of abuse, the trauma of war, whatever, whatever.

tldr; oh yeah, it was not a good representation and we should criticize it.

#please let me know if there are any inaccuracies or if i fucked up #this was very rambley and i did not read through it #mr president interviews #fear and hunger #fear and hunger termina

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