The universe saw fit to gift my grandmother with a lovely case of covid for Christmas because of course it fucking did, so the past few days have been, uh...
The IOF are terrorists and war criminals -void of humanity. Yet another tragedy, and people still turn away from this disproportionate amount of violence Palestinian people have been and are facing. I'm beyond deeply disturbed, this is just heartbreaking.
Ahmed Saad, a Palestinian man who had to jump through an insane amount of loops to get the funds necessary for escaping Gaza, is asking us all to donate to his friend’s family fund.
Mohamed is a hemophilia patient who needs access to medicine and to do surgery on his knees, his 11-year-old daughter also needs thigh surgery (she was supposed to do it outside Gaza in November but couldn't travel due to the border issues). Mohammed’s condition is worsening rapidly and, with Israel destroying the last functional hospital in Gaza, things are looking dire.
A hospital administrator in Gaza has refused Israeli orders to evacuate, calling such a move medically “impossible” as he begged the international community to pressure Israel to dial back.
“I am refusing this because I cannot discharge our patients,” Dr Ahmed Mhanna, who manages two Al-Awda Hospital branches, said.
He explained too many patients in his care are suffering from gunshot and shrapnel wounds and cannot be moved.
In a video diary, Mhanna appealed to world political forces to persuade Israel to dial back on rockets being launched in Gaza.
“I'm asking all members, international societies, and Red Cross and WHO, and in law societies international to (put) pressure on the Israeli government to stop these procedures against the civilians and to stop that attack,” he said.
“Stop the war. Stop the bombs being against our civilians.”
here's a lil comic of my skk little prince au i made a while back to greet you all :)) I hope your new year wishes come to fruition and that your year would be a blessed one <3
we heard that you were very disappointed in us both as a generation and specifically as a generation of women (emphasis yours), how we had let ourselves go and now we were slutty and ill-tempered and holding onto notions of feminism like "having a savings account" and "equality."
we were very sorry about it, we didn't realize. it is very hard for you, in your life, because your entire definition was centered around the word providing, and that's a really vague and undulating word. it is hard to be a provider. for your purposes, the word provider here can be defined as "having a job", although it sometimes also extends to "doing yard work", "grilling on occasion," and "knowing basic car anatomy."
we had to do some reading but we divided it out. do not worry. high-value women will fill in the rest of the gaps of your life - all those silly feminine things like doing the dishes. we didn't realize we had asked too much when we asked you to pick up after yourself. we did not realize you were rendered small and scared and crying about the possibility of doing the laundry. here is a joke to lighten the sentiment: a man that listens when you talk to him.
we heard about how we had fallen from glory and it sickened us and made us very, very sad. lindsey had to cut all her hair off and tara threw up. we lit one million candles and we are going to have a vigil about it tonight. all of the people in this world that you do not approve of are going to be there and we will all be in mourning colors because we have lost your respect which is of course the only thing that any of us were looking for.
we searched around our bedrooms and our closets and for some of us it took a while but we all found the pricetag that we were originally born with, the one that gave our listing offer, the one that smells like rot and pine needles. we were horrified because many of us had taken deductions and hadn't realized it. i had scraped my knees and decided to be a lesbian so they had to take my voicebox out so i could never call home again. janice had been with too many people overall so we had to put her into the big squisher that will hopefully collapse her walls so that when you're with her, you'll feel so big and powerful. it will be like you're conquering something instead of being close with someone.
we are all going to the funeral of feminism and we will tear at our bodies and fall over ourselves. we will invite you onstage for a live recording of your podcast about the occasional minor inconvenience of self-reflection. you will talk about how we have targeted you and made you feel the sweat slick down your back, and we will teach you basic self-defense out of solidarity.
do not worry, we are seeing to all the outliers. taylor asked to be taken seriously so we have shipped her off to prison. laura asked you to accept her femininity regardless of her presentation. you will be happy to hear all women are now and forever going to have to be small and thin and pretty and white and ablebodied and quiet and unassuming and ladylike, which is different than how society has previously told us to act.
i am going to have to shave off my jawline, which is a little masculine, and they are going to have to reshape my hands, which are very square and thick - all the work i've done with them has made their veins stand out, so we're just going to have to exsanguinate me. i am horrified to have been out in public like this.
we are going to sit around the campfire and we will talk about being weird little girls that made potions in pink teacups. we will talk about the first time we made a difference. we will talk about the private lives of crickets, and then, at the stroke of three in the morning (the witching hour, obviously) - we will all promptly shut up.
and this will be your beautiful world. this silence that spans every corner of every street and every zoom meeting and every alley. i do not think you'll notice at first - it will be the same as every television show and movie and book. we will all just simply sit there in our doll dresses and smile blithely at your advances and none of us will do you the dishonor of answering and none of us will appear to be in distress and none of us will nag you or make a fuss or get hysterical about it. it will just be quiet, and you will say finally, some peace for once! and we will smell of smoke and our teeth will be white and the next day will come.
tonight we are going to bury the last little bits of our humanity. you are not invited. it is going to be ugly.
Now Bruce was not expecting to reincarnate upon his death. At least he thinks he died, he’s pretty sure he did. There wasn’t any other reason for him to be a well, literal baby. Around two he thinks, which fits well with the fact that it’s around that time that babies start forming memory recall, if he, well, remembered correctly.
But while he knew about reincarnation thanks to Shayera and Carter, he’d never exactly given it much thought towards himself. Because seriously, what were the chances of such a thing as him being given another chance?
So he was quite surprised at his situation, experimentally opening and closing pudgy hands that looked well, just a tiny bit off. He’d never been that pale before, he thinks, even back when he never went outside like, ever.
He turned his gaze towards the mobile above him with a sort of idle curiosity- a mixture of bats (ha) and other trinkets he wasn’t familiar with. It also caused him to get his first good look at his parent, asleep on a rocking chair right next to the crib.
Huh. They had the same pale skin he did, albeit in the light it looked like it was slightly tinted blue, and while their hair was white they didn’t exactly look old. They looked surprisingly well rested for raising a toddler too, unless they had a nanny or something similar… He rolled over, managing to very shakily push himself to his feet with the help of the crib.
Why was standing so hard as a toddler? And why did he have his memories of everything except how he had died anyway?
His head whipped up from where they were staring at his feet when he heard a snort, finding his parent awake and standing. Somehow silently enough that he hadn’t noticed- or he was that easily distracted by the unfamiliar giddiness bursting in his chest.
“Morning little bat,” his parent easily picked him up and held him while he inwardly sighed at the nickname. Of course his bat motif would follow him into this life. A low rumbling almost caused him to jump, his body relaxing before he could fully register the sound. The… purring?
The air is heavy with the smell of death. It’s inescapable, in every corner, and worse with every body taken out of the ground.
Every time they dig, they find more corpses, sometimes in places they never expect. Sometimes they only find parts of a person, or a corpse decomposed beyond recognition.
According to the Gaza government media office, some bodies were found decapitated, or had their skin and organs removed. Children, elderly women and young men are said to be among the dead.
Rescue workers say they found bodies with their hands tied behind their backs, which the UN human rights office said “indicates serious violations of international human rights law and international humanitarian law”.
Israel denies it buried the Palestinian bodies, claiming instead that it had “respectfully” exhumed the dead searching for Israeli captives.
There are so many tears at Nasser hospital today and so much pain. It’s hard for me to find the words to describe this scene.
The feeling of seeing someone find their relative is indescribable, the way mothers cover their dead sons in a shroud and accompany them to the cemeteries.
Every sight we capture as journalists we do so silently. We can’t speak, we cry blood as we film. Our hands are shaking so much our cameras lose focus. But we start over and try again.
Moatasim Mortaja is a Palestinian video journalist in Khan Younis, southern Gaza. Over recent days, he has been documenting mass graves uncovered in Nasser hospital, where more than 300 bodies have been discovered since Israeli forces withdrew. On Monday, his video of a woman in grey holding the recently uncovered body of her son spread across social media. This is his descriptions of the scenes at Nasser hospital.