#by your ancestors from your taxes for my ancestors who then sent your ancestors to go to die in the stupidest war™

[sissa-arrows]

A white French cop in Lagwiyann was caught in video saying to a Black woman “My family’s been there for 200 years we came in the same boat but at different level”

He was basically proudly telling that woman that her ancestors came as slaves (transported in the holds of ships) while his ancestors came as slave sellers (living in higher quarters in slave ships)

A couple days before, the cops stopped a family to check their documents and license. The family showed the paperwork and everything was fine. Then one of the cops started asking them if they paid their taxes, if they worked or if they were just waiting to be fed by the French… the mom asked how was anything related to a license check. The cops got angry. They pushed the adult son of the woman on the floor and pointed a gun at him.

The family tried to sue but they were welcomed by the same cops at the precinct who refused to fill a report and kicked them out.

A couple days later one of the children of the family is driving and she sees the same cops so she starts filming in case something else happens. The cops see her and start threatening her saying it’s illegal to film them (it’s not). The cops start arguing with the same racists comments as the first time. Saying that it’s thanks to France that they have social benefits and all (for the record these people are not even immigrants they are French because France colonized their ancestors and sent them to Lagwiyann as slaves… yet because they are black they are accused of being in France just to benefit for health care and social benefits). Anyway arguing starts. The mom says they had issues with them a couple days before too and that it needs to stop and then one of the cops has the fucking audacity to say “Do you have issues with me because I’m white? It’s because I’m white right.” The mom is like “No it’s not because you’re white it’s because of your behavior” and then the cop pulls the “my family has been there for 200 years we came in the same ship but at different levels”

This is why I say that the “French overseas territories” are colonies. White people are way too confident being racist there. Lagwiyann, Kanaky, Gwadloup, Maore, Tahiti… free all the people in this world from western imperialism and colonialism.

Source

Edit: Apparently it all happened in August but there was no consequences and the family kept being ignored so they ended up posting the video now to pressure the start of an investigation and it’s working.

[cascadianights]

If I see one more donation post openly guilting Americans into giving up their money because they are directly responsible and complicit in genocide-

I have moral ocd. I've rehashed everything I've ever done that had any potential negative affect, even perceived, on anyone. And yknow what? I'm sick of this shit. I'm sick of this shit. I'm sick of this shit. I'm SICK OF THIS SHIT!!!!

I didn't vote for my taxes to go to the military! I didn't give up 25% of my nonexistant income that has never been enough to break even instead of sinking further in debt to WAR. I am sick of every single social movement focusing on how directly responsible I, as a person who's been living on the edge of homelessness and without work for 4 years, as a person who's too disabled to go to town more than once every other fucking week, as a person who spent every part of my time when I could work doing caregiving and political activism, is directly fucking culpable for every harm that's ever been done by this shitass country. I was not in my ancestors bodies I am in MINE. I don't control any one else's fucking actions and I control very little of my own fucking life. I've spent every iota of energy I've had establishing safe spaces and laws and houses to turn around and be explicitly told by protest movements thst I'm not doing enough and my body deserves to be a shield. To be told by "leftist activists" I'm never doing enough to wash the blood from my hands and my veins, and can't I give just a little bit more - if I can afford X (I cant!) I should be! To be surrounded by groups of people who hash out the right for my body my existence to even be here and then tell me my privilege, no matter how much of it is assumed, makes me that much more responsible and you're never doing enough. Never trying enough never paying enough never talking about it enough never putting my literal body on the line enough.

Meanwhile I can't afford bread or spices. I can't afford insurance or gas. I can't afford the PO Box my voting pamphlet will be sent to. I live in a falling apart trailer because I don't have the money to work on it, on the property of abusive people using me for free labor on top of the rent everything I own including my body goes to selling for. I haven't had housing security for the next month of my life in years. I'm SURROUNDED by other people in the same awful fucking circumstances. And we're just not trying enough!!!! We need constant daily reminders that we are as culpable as the people making the laws and pulling the triggers and signing the deals to send missiles! We're at fault for every problem in this country and abroad! And if our bodies are not on the line, if my trans disabled broken body is not physically on the line for EVERYONE ELSE in EVERY SENSE, then we're just aiding and abetting genocide happily and willingly.

I understand the anger of those facing a genocide, because I've spent half my life facing one. But you pathetic little horrible gastric bypass snails of the fucking world leftists who jump on the bandwagon to use everyone else's pain to continue your crusade of pain, of catholic shame and guilt, of being above it all by simply opting out of a vote while nothing we can do frees us of the reign of blood you say came from the feeble broken steps I take, you can eat dirt and shit gravel you abusive monstrous war profiteering catholic mother FUCK E R S

[ligiaonwlz]

Immigrants (We get the job done)

https://youtu.be/qrtD9uQ9jq4?si=6_WjHORWH2_YJcNz

You know, and it gets into this whole issue of border security,

You know,

Who's gonna say that the borders are secure?

We've got the House and the Senate debating this issue, and it's...

It's really astonishing that in a country founded by immigrants,

"Immigrant" has somehow become a bad word.

So the debate rages on and we continue...

And just like that it's over, we tend to our wounded, we count our dead

Black and white soldiers wonder alike if this really means freedom...

Not yet

I got 1 job, 2 jobs, 3 when I need them

I got 5 roommates in this one studio but I never really see them

And we all came America trying to get a lap dance from lady freedom

But now lady liberty is acting like Hillary Banks with a pre-nup

Man I was brave sailing on graves

Don't think I didn't notice those tombstones disguised as waves

I'm no dummy,

Here is something funny you can be an immigrant without risking your lives

Or crossing these boarders with thrifty supplies

All you got to do is see the world with new eyes

Immigrants

We get the job done

Look how far I come

Look how far I come

Look how far I come

We get the job done

Look how far I come

Look how far I come

Look how far I come

Immigrants

We get the job done

It's a hard line when you're an import

Baby boy it's hard times

When you ain't sent for

Racist feed the belly of the beast

With they pitchforks, rich chores

Done by the people that get ignored

Ya se armó

Ya se despertaron

It's a whole awakening

La alarma ya sonó hace rato

Los que quieren buscan

Pero nos apodan como vagos

We are the same ones

Hustling on every level

Ten los datos

Walk a mile in our shoes

Abróchense los zapatos

I been scoping ya dudes, ya'll ain't been working like I do

I'll outwork you, it hurts you

You claim I'm stealing jobs though

Peter Piper claimed he picked them, he just underpaid Pablo

But there ain't a paper trail when you living in the shadows

We're America's ghost writers, the credit's only borrowed

It's a matter of time before the checks all come

But...

Immigrants, we get the job done

Look how far I come

Look how far I come

Look how far I come

We get the job done

Look how far I come

Look how far I come

Look how far I come

Immigrants, we get the job (Not yet)

The credit is only borrowed

It's America's ghost writers, the credit's only borrowed

It's America's ghost writers

America's ghost writers

America's ghost writers, the credit's only borrow-borrowed

It's Americas ghost writers, a credit is only borrowed

It's Americas ghost writers, a credit is only borrowed

It's Americas ghost writers, a credit is only borrowed

It's

Immigrants, we get the job done

Ay yo aye, immigrants we don't like that

Na they don't play British empire strikes back

They beating us like 808's and high hats

At our own game of invasion, but this ain't Iraq

Who these fugees what did they do for me

But contribute new dreams

Taxes and tools, swagger and food to eat

Cool, they flee war zones, but the problem ain't ours

Even if our bombs landed on them like the Mayflower

Buckingham Palace or Capitol Hill

Blood of my ancestors had that all built

It's the ink you print on your dollar bill, oil you spill

Thin red lines on the flag you hoist when you kill

But still we just say "look how far I come"

Hindustan, Pakistan, to London

To a galaxy far from their ignorance

Cos

Immigrants, we get the job done

Por tierra o por agua

Identidad falsa

Brincamos muros o flotamos en balsas

La peleamos como Sandino en Nicaragua

Somos como las plantas que crecen sin agua

Sin pasaporte americano

Porque La mitad de gringolandia Es terreno mexicano

Hay que ser bien hijo e puta

Nosotros Les Sembramos el árbol y ellos se comen la fruta

Somos los que cruzaron

Aquí vinimos a buscar el oro que nos robaron

Tenemos mas trucos que la policía secreta

Metimos la casa completa en una maleta

Con un pico, una pala

Y un rastrillo

Te construimos un castillo

Como es que dice el coro cabrón?

Immigrants, we get the job done

Look how far I come

Look how far I come

Look how far I come

We get the job done

Look how far I come

Look how far I come

Look how far I come

Immigrants, we get the job done

Look how far I come

Look how far I come

Look how far I come

Immigrants, we get the job done (Not yet)

[ukulelegodparent]

It is also my firm belief that any exhibition on 19th century politics and/or the leadup to WWI should be accompanied by circus music BC it's all complete and utter clown shoes

[outshinethestars]

A Tale of Barrayarans (Vorkosigan Saga)

Inspired by @tanoraqui‘s tumblr post

.

“The Vor came,” said Simon’s grandfather in tones of story-telling, “And they took our groats from us, and we could not fight them because they were Vor.  And every year they came, and every year they took, whether the year be abundant or lean, and in time they called it taxes.  Then the Cetagandans came, and they took our groats from us, and we said, “No.  You cannot have our groats,” and we fought them.  Do you know why we fought them, when we did not fight the Vor?”

“No,” Simon said.  He didn’t think “Because the Cetas were bad” was a good answer.  If he was another boy, in another little village, he might have said “because the Vor are our liege lords,” but Simon was Greekie, and Greekies didn’t think that way.

“It’s because we belong to Barrayar and Barrayar belongs to us.  Because we were born here, and died here for six hundred years, and we built the earth beneath our feet, manured it and tilled it and grew our groats in it, and our ancestors are buried in it.  And the Vor are bound to Barrayar, blood and bone, to the land and the things that grow here, born here and buried here for six hundred years.  So the groats are of Barrayar, and we belong to Barrayar, and the Vor are bound to Barrayar, and so it is not so terrible a thing to give our groats to the Vor.  But the Cetas were not bound here, they were bound far away if anywhere, and they did not know our groats, and they did not know us.  And they were beautiful and uniform, and they wished to change us, to make us into their slaves, and take our land and take our groats and take ourselves and bend them into the shape they thought was beautiful.  And when we saw the haut lords there was nothing human in them at all.’

“So the Cetagandans came, and we said “No, we will not give you our groats,” and then the Vor came and said, “Come fight with us against the Cetagandans,”—

“I thought Count Vorfolse sided with the Cetagandans,” Simon interrupted, “That’s what my history class said.”

“Yes, these were different Vor, a man by the name of Vorpatril was in charge. General Count Vorkosigan sent scouts all through the Ceta held districts and had them drum up recruits where they could,” Grandfather said, before returning to the story, “The Vor said, “Come fight with us against the Cetagandans,” and we agreed.  And so the Vor left, and took our young men away with them.  And we fought the Cetagandans, and in the end we won and freed our land of them.  But many of the young men the Vor took died, and most never came back, and those who did come back came back different.’

“Of course,” said Grandfather, breaking out of story mode, “The ones that didn’t come back mostly went to the cities, and it’s hard to tell how much of that is down to the Vor and all that pretty Ceta infrastructure, and how much is just plain better wages.  And by “came back different” I mostly mean learned to read and fly a lightflier and handle plastic explosives, leastways, that’s how it was in my case.”

“Mostly, but not only,” said Simon, because you could tell there was something a little different about Grandfather, and it wasn’t just his wartime education.

“No, not only.  And not only the war dreams either,” Grandfather said, “So if you’re serious about this notion of becoming a soldier, you’ll keep that in mind.  It’s a dangerous thing, to come too near to the Vor, and not just because you’re more likely to be shot there.”

“I know,” Simon said, “And I am serious.”  More serious than he’d been about anything in the twelve years of his short life, and he’d always been an unusually serious child.  Simon was going to see the stars someday, maybe even become an admiral.

“Well, study hard, then,” said his grandfather, “And keep us safe from the Cetagandans.  But be sure not to let some Vor girl turn your head.  That’s a sort of trouble too big for anyone.”

“I doubt there’ll be many Vor Ladies on a spaceship, Grandfather,” Simon said, blushing a little at the thought.  Ordinary girls were terrifying enough, inhumanly beautiful girls who could put you under enchantments didn’t bear contemplating.

[nevermindirah]

I've been drafting and redrafting this meta post for weeks now. It's about to be 5781 and my country that was founded on settler colonial genocide and slavery and a deeply flawed but fierce attachment to democracy might go full dictatorship in about 6 weeks and it's time for me to post this thing.

All our immortals are warriors, all have been traumatized by war. But only three of them died their first deaths as soldiers in imperial armies. This fandom has already produced gallons of meta on Nicky dealing with his shit, because Joe would not fuck with an unapologetic Crusader. But there's very rich stuff in Booker and Nile's experiences and the parallels and distinctions between them.

Nile was 11 when her dad was killed in action - that was 2005, meaning she and her dad both died in the same war that George W Bush started in very tenuous response to 9/11. Sure, Nile's dad could have died in either Iraq or Afghanistan, or in a training accident or in an off-the-books mission we won't know about for a hundred more years, but he died in the War on Terror all the same. I had to look it up to be sure because Obama "drew down" the Afghanistan war in his second term, but nope, we're still in this fucking thing that never should've happened in the first place. The US war in Afghanistan just turned 19 years old. A lot of real-life Americans have experiences like the Freemans, parents and children both dying in the same war we shouldn't be in.

I know a lot of people like Nile who join the US military not just because it's the only realistic way for them to pay for college or afford decent healthcare, but also because they have a family history of military service that's a genuine source of pride. Military service has been a way for Americans of color to be accepted by white Americans as "true Americans" - from today's Dreamers who Obama promised would earn protection from deportation by enlisting, to Filipino veterans of WW2 earning US citizenship that Congress then denied them for several decades, to slaves "earning" their freedom through service in the Union Army and in the Continental Army before it. As if freedom is a thing one should have to earn. Lots of Black Americans have the last name Freeman for lots of different escaping-slavery reasons, but it's possible that this specific reason is how Nile got her last name.

Dying in a war you know your country chose to instigate unnecessarily and that maybe you believe it shouldn't be waging is a very particular kind of trauma. It is a much deeper trauma when your military service, and your father's, and maybe generations of your ancestors', is a source of pride and access to resources for you but your sacrifice is nearly meaningless to the white supremacist system that deploys you. That kind of cognitive dissonance encourages a person to ignore their own feelings just so they can function. How do you wake up in the morning, how do you risk your life every day, how do you *kill other people* in a war that shouldn't be happening and that you shouldn't have to serve in just so that your country sees you as human?

We see Nile do her best to be a kind and well-mannered invader. Depending on your experience with US imperialism, Nile giving candy to kids and reminding her squad to be respectful is either heartwarming or very disturbing propaganda. We also see Nile clutching her cross necklace and praying. From the second Christianity arrived on this land it's been a tool of white supremacist assimilation and control, but like military service, it's a fucked-up but genuine source of pride and access to resources for many Americans whose pre-Columbian ancestors were not Christian, and it's a powerful source of comfort and resilience. This Jew who's had a lot of Spanish Inquisition nightmares would like to say for the record that it's not Jesus's fault that his big name fans are such shitty people.

Nile is a good person trying to do her best in a fucked-up world. "Her best" just radically changed. Her access to information on just how fucked up the world is has also just radically changed, because everything's so fucked up a person needs a lot of time to learn about it all and not only does she have centuries but she won't have to spend that time worrying about rent and healthcare and taxes, and because she now has Joe and Nicky and Andy's stories, and because she now has Copley's inside scoop on just what the fuck the CIA has been up to. Like, I want a fic where Copley tells Nile what was really behind the brass's decisions that led to her experiences on the ground in Afghanistan, that led to her father's death, but also I Do Not Want That.

Nile was 19 when Alicia Garza posted on Facebook that Black Lives Matter. She grew up in Chicago well before white people on Twitter were saying maybe police violence against Black people is a problem. She knows this is a deeply fucked up country, and she put on her Marine uniform and deployed with her team of mostly fellow women of color, and maybe she and Dizzy and Jay marched in the streets between deployments, maybe they texted each other when a white manarchist at a protest sneered at one of them for being a Marine. Nile's been busy surviving, and she knows some shit and she's seen some shit but she hasn't had much time to think about what it all means. Now she's got time. And Joe, Nicky, and Andy are willing to listen. (Is Copley willing to listen? I could see that going either way.)

Booker might also be willing to listen. The brilliant idea of cleaning up the rat Frenchman so that Nile can have millennia of emotional support and orgasms sent me down a Wikipedia rabbit hole, and holy shit do Booker and Nile have a lot of shared life experience as pawns of imperial wars. Obviously Booker is white and a man and that makes a very big difference. (Though G-d help me, Booker could be Jewish and France was knocking its Jews around like ping-pong balls in the 18th-19th centuries. Jewish Booker wouldn't make him any less white but it does add a shit ton of depth of common experience: military service as a way for your country to see you as a full member of society who matters, because who you are means that's not guaranteed.)

Booker was hanged for desertion from the army Napoleon sent to invade Russia as part of his quest to control all of Europe. We learn in the comics / this YouTube video that Booker was on his way to prison for forgery when he was offered military service instead of jail time. While we don't know how he felt about the choice beyond that he did choose soldier over inmate, it's unlikely he thought invading Russia was a great idea, given he tried to desert because Napoleon like a true imperialist dumbass didn't plan for how he was going to feed his army or keep them from freezing to death in fucking Russian winter.

I find it very interesting that the French Empire was at its largest right before invading Russia and fell apart completely within a few years. My country has been falling the fuck apart for a while now - see aforementioned War on Terror, growing extremes of economic stratification in the richest country in the world, abject refusal to meaningfully deal with climate change that US-based corporations hold the lion's share of blame for - but between Trump's abject refusal to meaningfully deal with the coronavirus and strong likelihood that he'll refuse to leave office even if a certain pathetic moderate I will hold my nose and vote for does manage to earn a majority of votes, ~y~i~k~e~s.

Our only immortals who have never known a world before modernity and nationalism happen to have been born of wars that were the beginning of the end for the imperialist democracies that raised them, and I think in the centuries to come that's going to give them some very interesting shit to talk about.

Nile's a Young Millennial, a digital native born in the United States after the collapse of the USSR left her country as the world's only superpower. She's used to a pace of technological change that human brains are not evolved to handle.

Napoleon trying to make all of Europe into the French Empire was a leading cause of the growth of European nationalism and the establishment of liberal democracies both in Europe and in many places that Europeans had colonized. Booker's first war produced the only geopolitical world order Nile has ever known and I just have so many feelings ok. Nile the art history nerd is probably not aware of this, and why would she be? This humble meta author is, like Nile, a product of US public schools, and all they taught me about world history was Ancient Greece/Rome/Egypt/Mesopotamia and then World War 2. Being raised in The World's Only Superpower is WEIRD.

Nile the Young Millennial is used to the devastating volume of bad news the internet makes possible. But she has absolutely no concept of a world where the United States of America is not The World's Only Superpower. In order to get up in the morning and put on her gear and point guns at civilians in Afghanistan, she can only let herself think so much about whether that American exceptionalism thing is a good idea.

She's about to spend many, many years where the only people who she can truly trust are people who are older than not only her country but the IDEA of countries.

She's got time, and she's got a lot of new information at her disposal. But there comes a point where my obsession with her friendship and eventual very hot sex life with Booker just isn't about sex at all. Nile needs someone to talk to about the United States who Gets It. Booker the rat Frenchman coerced into Napoleon's army, and Copley the Black dual citizen of the US and UK who's retired from a CIA career that he half understands as deeply problematic but half still believes in hence his mind-bogglingly stupid partnership with Merrick, are the only people on the planet Nile can talk to honestly about, and really be understood in, all the thoughts and feelings and fears and hopes of her experience as a US Marine.

And one more thing before I go get ready for Rosh Hashanah: Orientalism was a defining element of the Crusades and that legacy is painfully clear in current US-led Western military activity in Afghanistan, Syria, Israel/Palestine, you name it. Turns out memoirs by French veterans of the Napoleonic Wars are full of Orientalist language about Russia as well. I am maybe/definitely writing a fic where Booker spends his exile reading critical race theory and decolonial feminism and trauma studies monographs because he can't be honest with a therapist but maybe he can heal this way and become the team therapist his own damn self. I just really need him to read Edward Said and Gloria Anzaldúa and then go down on Nile, ok?

[jackiearbs]

things that rwrb characters have said that i will never forget, a thread:

alex claremont-diaz, giving off dumbass™ energy (he has the most on this thread, for obvious reasons) 

- "put them in my room, put them in my room, put them in my room-" 

-  “Jesus Christ, it’s like they can see into your soul. cornbread knows my sins, Henry. cornbread knows what I have done, and he is here to make me atone.”   

- "do it for the 'gram"

- "leading member of korean pop band bts kim nam-june" 

- "whatever, fine. henry is annoyingly attractive. that’s always been a thing, objectively. it’s fine.”

- "see attached bibliography"

- "i said, you look great, baby!”

- "yo there’s a bond marathon on and did you know your dad was a total babe"

- "awesome, fuckin' love doing things out of spite.”

-”Huge Raging Headache Prince Henry of Who Cares”

-”it is amazing you can sit down to write emails with that gigantic royal stick up your ass.” 

- “who names a dog David? He sounds like a tax attorney.”

-” “Do I go on your side of the cubicle and turn off your Dropkick Murphys Spotify station, no matter how much I want to?” Alex demands. “No, Hunter, I don’t.”

- “for fuck's sake, man, you just had my dick in your mouth, you can kiss me good-night.”

- “Bake Off makes Chopped look like the fucking Manson tapes.”

- “THEY KNOW. THEY KNOW I HAVE ROBBED THEM OF FIVE-STAR ACCOMMODATIONS TO SIT IN A CAGE IN MY ROOM, AND THE MINUTE I TURN MY BACK THEY ARE GOING TO FEAST ON MY FLESH.”

- “You’re from Boston, Hunter. You really want to talk about all the places bigotry comes from?” (he really hates hunter goddamn) 

-”so, what? you want me to quit politics and go become a princess? that’s not very feminist of you.” 

hrh prince dickhead😎  - "the moment you first called me a prick, my fate was sealed. O, fathers of my bloodline! O, ye kings of olde! Take this crown from me, bury me in my ancestral soil. If only you had known the mighty work of thine loins would be undone by a gay heir who likes it when American boys with chin dimples are mean to him.”

-"“I’ve been gay as a maypole since the day I came out of Mum, Philip.”

-”i will turn this car around.”

- “yes, the cocaine, alex.” 

-”i am a delight!”

-”have i mentioned lately that you’re a demon?” 

- “are you psychoanalyzing me? i don't think royal guests are allowed to do that.”

- "i can't believe even mortal peril will not prevent you from being the way you are.”

-“the phrase ‘see attached bibliography’ is the single sexiest thing you have ever written to me.”

-"i just mean to say, you know, Philip is the heir and I'm the spare, and if that nervy bastard has a heart attack at thirty five and I've got malaria, whither the spare?”

- “they wanted something less fruity than the truth, but truly, what is gayer than a woman who languishes away in a crumbling mansion wearing her wedding gown every day of her life, for the drama?”

- “You are a delinquent and a plague. Please come?”

- “fat and sexually conquered, snuffed out in the spring of my youth. Here lies Prince Henry of Wales. He died as he lived: avoiding plans and sucking cock.”

june:  “- that is a clear quartz crystal for good vibes do not @ me.” 

- “He’s just so frail, it’d only take one good push-”

- “ugh! men! no emotional vocabulary. i can’t believe our ancestors survived centuries of wars and plagues and genocide just to wind up with your sorry ass.” 

nora: 

-”sorry, are we not? did i skip ahead again? my bad. hello, would you like to come out to me? im listening. hi.” 

“prince henry is a biscuit. let him sop you up.”  

- “you’ve been, like, Draco Malfoy–level obsessed with Henry for years.”

- “i don’t know, man. I was in my junior year of high school, and I touched a boob. It wasn’t very profound. Nobody’s gonna write an Off-Broadway play about it.”

dahra: 

- “You need to get back to fucking England now, and if anyone sees you leave, I will personally end you. Ask me if I’m afraid of the crown.”

- “both sides need to come out of this looking like your little slap-fight at the wedding was some homoerotic frat bro mishap, okay? So, you can hate the heir to the throne all you want, write mean poems about him in your diary, but the minute you see a camera, you act like the sun shines out of his dick, and you make it convincing.”

-”come on, you backyard-shooting-range motherfuckers,”

ellen (should i say PRESIDENT claremont) 

- “Diaz, you insane, hopeless romantic little shit"

-  “I had Planned Parenthood send over all these pamphlets, take one! They sent a bike messenger and everything!”

- ”where? Are you hiding a turkey habitat up your ass, son? Where, in our historically protected house, am I going to put a couple of turkeys until I pardon them tomorrow?”

-“As your mother, I can appreciate that maybe this isn’t your fault, but as the president, all I want is to have the CIA fake your death and ride the dead-kid sympathy into a second term.”

PEZ !!!

- “frolic naked in the hills, frighten the sheep, return to the house for the usual: tea, biscuits, casting ourselves onto the Thighmaster of love to moan about the Claremont-Diaz siblings, which has become tragically one-sided since Henry took it up with you. It used to be all bottles of cognac and shared malaise and ‘When will they notice us’-” 

-”-and now i just ask henry, ‘what is your secret?’ and he says, ‘i insult alex all the time, and that seems to work.’” 

**extra: nicer quotes from alex and henry 

alex heartthrob diaz  - "never tell me the odds"

-"we were not afforded that liberty."

-“I hate this so much. I know. But we’re gonna do it together. And we’re gonna make it work. You and me and history, remember? We’re just gonna fucking fight. Because you’re it, okay? I’m never gonna love anybody in the world like I love you. So, I promise you, one day we’ll be able to just be, and fuck everyone else.”

- “On purpose. I love him on purpose.”

- “history, huh? Bet we could make some.”

- “But the truth is, also, simply this: love is indomitable.”

-“Take anything you want and know you deserve to have it.”

- “Someone else’s choice doesn’t change who you are.”

- “I am the First Son of the United States, and I'm bisexual. History will remember us.”

- “America: He is my choice.”

- “Give yourself away sometimes, sweetheart, There's so much of you.”

- the entire list of the things he loves about henry. i would die 

henry: 

-”i’ll be damned but i miss you.” 

- “when you rang me at truly shocking hours of the night, I loved you. When you kissed me in disgusting public toilets and pouted in hotel bars and made me happy in ways in which it had never even occurred to me that a mangled-up, locked-up person like me could be happy, I loved you. and then, inexplicably, you had the absolute audacity to love me back. Can you believe it?”

- “it sounds like you did your best.”

- “I’ve bloody well had it. I’ve sat about long enough letting you and Gran and the weight of the damned world keep me pinned, and I’m finished. I don’t care. You can take your legacy and your decorum and you can shove it up your fucking arse, Philip. I’m done.”

- “Should I tell you that when we’re apart, your body comes back to me in dreams? That when I sleep, I see you, the dip of your waist, the freckle above your hip, and when I wake up in the morning, it feels like I’ve just been with you, the phantom touch of your hand on the back of my neck fresh and not imagined? That I can feel your skin against mine, and it makes every bone in my body ache? That, for a few moments, I can hold my breath and be back there with you, in a dream, in a thousand rooms, nowhere at all?”

[tech-knowing-hillbilly]

The Hillbilly: Blair

(This story isn't going to be as good as my others, it was written under the influence of pain medication due to an incident while working on my truck, but please keep in mind that there are battles still being fought around the subject at hand)

(ONE MONTH AFTER THE EVENTS OF BLUE IN THE FACE)

The crew of the Frailing have made their way to Earth, as they are honoring their relatively new arrivals’ tradition of honoring their fallen ancestors at an old coal mine in West Virginia. As they make their way from the spaceport in Washington,D.C., Tr’thl’ia turns to John, who is staring off into space, as if he is in a trance.

“I apologize if this is a bit rude to ask,” Xe asks, “ but where exactly are we going?”

“ We are heading to the site of the largest labor uprising in the history of the United States, called Blair Mountain.” John replied. “In nineteen twenty-one, some ten thousand coal miners rose up after three years of trying to unionize and being beaten back down by the companies via eviction from the company towns and murders. Ten thousand miners stood up for what they believed in, and fought tooth and nail to get some respect The government at the time, though, wasn’t on their side and came to support the two thousand private troops, hired by Sheriff Don Chaffin by way of the Logan County Coal Operators Association, with bombers and national guardsmen to quash the uprising. The battle raged until the second of September, when more federal troops showed up to act as backup for the private army. In the end, around one hundred people died, and nine hundred miners were charged with various crimes ranging from treason to murder. The union saw membership drop, and would not see itself become fully organized in the area until nineteen thirty-five.”

“You’re joking, right? Your government brought troops to stop union workers from organizing?!”

I’m afraid not. The government, at the time, got a lot of tax dollars and bribes from the coal companies, and feared losing out on their money, so they sent in those soldiers to keep their wallets intact. But, it wasn’t all bad news for unions. The battle brought to attention the poor conditions that many workers faced across many industries, and didn’t so much as pave a path for even more unions as it burned a path. Many of the unions in place today on Earth can trace their success back to the inspiration of the early unions in Logan County. Looks like we are here.”

The buses that the crew are riding in pull up in a parking lot, looking down into a great valley. Below them, they see around one hundred markers, each in different spots, and in the center of all of them is a large marble obelisk.

(This story is a rough re-telling of the battle, and does not hold every single detail of the battle, but the tale of the battle holds a very special place in my heart, as my great-great grandfather was one of the miners who fought in the battle, and it ended up causing him to have to move out of Logan county to Guernsey County, OH where I am originally from. The monument described here is fictional, but it is a better monument than the one they have, which is simply a road sign. There is a museum of the various coal wars, and if you wish for more information on the battle and others like it, please check out this wiki article, as it has most of the battles fought throughout the US.(https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Coal_Wars))

[cxldtyrant]

Force my Muse to Spill their Secrets - OPEN!

@risingsouls​ asked: 🍻🌧🌜

🍻- For something bad/mischievous you did as a child or teen that your parents don’t know about

          “Nothing,” Cooler stated shortly, his scarlet gaze focused primarily on the reports of his soldiers as he entertained the other’s question. “My upbringing ensured strict obedience towards my parents, and I was the dutiful son who understood how to fall into line… though, I do suppose I could be quite difficult when it came to Freeza. The little brat would cry to our father whenever I tormented him with stories of the Legendary Super Saiyan that killed our ancestor… heh, he’d quiver in fear every time I told him that it would come for him as well.”

          Who knew that his taunting would turn out to be quite prophetic? In hindsight, the tyrant wasn’t sure if it was outright tragic or bleakly hilarious, but it certainly was an astonishing coincidence.

🌧- For a heavy, emotional secret

          His hand gripped the device that conveyed his army’s reports a smidgen tighter at the question, but his stoic expression refused to reveal anything as he spoke as easily as he had before. “There are days where I genuinely mourn the loss of my mother. Granted, she’s nothing more than a weak, treacherous coward for daring to turn against our family and attempting to overthrow my father… but she was not without her virtues. Her council had been valuable as I was coming into my own as a leader. She had often advised into keeping lesser beings around if they served a purpose rather than resorting to the outright extermination my father favored; and indeed, that lesson had been quite beneficial to the growth of my Empire.”

          There was a temptation to allow his features to show the weariness that he felt whenever he thought back to the late Queen Froza. While she had been just as ruthless and self-serving as Cold, between the two, she had been the better parent in terms of affection towards Cooler. He could remember in his youth, the moments where she would show her fondness towards her eldest; the subtle little smiles she sent him when they trained together, the pride in her tone when she presented him to her subjects as her heir, the placement of her hand around his shoulders as she spoke of politics and business ventures while they stared at the infinite universe together in her spaceship.

         Yet those memories, which should have brought him some measure of comfort, had become complicated and poisoned by the disdain he felt towards his family at the present. And there were even days where he would look back and think he might have hated her just as much as he did his father. But he knew that part of his anger towards her posthumously was the fact that with her death, he felt as though has nobody in his immediate family who was on his side, allowing Cold to elevate Freeza as his heir and denying Cooler his birthright. It enraged and humiliated him so deeply, to the point that his resentment burned so intensely within him.

          His feelings for her were complex but would never erase the fact that he still grieved her. He always would.

🌜- For a ‘weird’ habit or tic that no one knows about

          Ah, now this was a topic that was less emotionally taxing. His obsidian lips, which had remained in an unchanging line of neutrality, curved slightly at the question. “Among my kin, I’m quite infamous for studying other planets and their cultures. I’ve collected an untold amount of relics and literature from planets under my rule, to better understand them as I assimilate them into my Empire… but what very few know of is that I do the same for the ones I decide to exterminate. I have my own personal collection of rare books and artifacts of long forgotten civilizations that only myself and the Armored Squadron have the privilege of viewing. They make for quite the valuable mementoes.”

[thesolitarystripe]

Any World of Warcraft Fans?

This is a scene I have been sitting on for, forever. Well, since last expansion. I write a lot of lore about my guild and original character in the game World of Warcraft. While I do not own any of Blizzard Entertainment’s characters or anything else in the world of Azeroth, Tindyl’s story is absolutely my own. If anyone was curious, I dreamt up this scene while listening to this song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L7kF4MXXCoA

There is also a second part to this scene that came to mind later on and over a different song so I may write that up next, or at some point. Anyway, this was fun. It’s nice to get away from the writing prompts every once in a while and write something else. If people enjoy the Tindyl series, I have a lot of content written about her that I would be happy to share and elaborate on. Most of these characters have been written about and introduced in all the previous writings I’ve made but they are all based on actual raiders in my guild. Some are still here and some are not. If they weren’t given a name within the story, it is safe to assume they are no longer in my life but they included in the story because sometimes side characters don’t stick around forever. 

If you’re a WoW nerd too, let me know!

Let go.

That insidious voice. It spoke, it wouldn’t stop speaking.

Such a heavy burden you carry. Soon you will be free of it.

Tindyl blinked wildly, as if the words were made of acid, blistering her eyes and eyes as shadows clouded her horizon. Where was she? The voices of her allies seemed so far away. “Tindyl!” That was…who? The archdruid settled her hand against her forehead, knee coming down to the fleshy ground stained a sickening purple with hues of crimson pustules and jagged openings like wounds etched inside flesh. Ny’alotha. The Waking City. Wasn’t that where she was? Tindyl looked at the ground but saw only grass; her hand pressed flat against the blades that were no longer the emerald green of her childhood but black and charred. Swiftly, her head shot up and her skin was painted in streaks of orange. Fire. So much fire. Teldrassil! Tindyl was off her knees and running, the screams of her kin drowning out the whispering that sucked her deeper into madness. The Kaldorei leapt over a fallen branch, the limb blazing upon what was once scared ground. Their home. Two feet turned into four, claws printing in deep against the soot covered ground as the long feline body surged forward.

“An’da!” Tindyl was running toward the fleeting shadow of a male night elf. The large figure shapeshifted from elf to bear. Her father, it had to be. She could see him in the distance, tossing others over his hulking shoulders and carrying them out of the flames that engulfed their home. The smoke was suffocating, she choked on its thick plumes but didn’t dare slow her pace as she ran after her father—she had not seen him in…She had not seen him since Teldrassil fell. Tindyl stopped, body transfiguring again until she was whole and back upon two legs. A night elf. “An’da,” her voice was softer, weary eyes following the shade of her father who never looked back. She had lost him already. This was not reality.

All alone in the depths…

That voice. Tindyl covered her ears, grit her teeth and shook her head, eyes falling closed against the deceit spread before her. These visions were not her own, her father was already dead.

“Tindyl!” The night elf opened her eyes and sucked in a sharp breath. The world had returned, her present moment. The images of Teldrassil, the fallen, the smoke and blood, vanished. She knew that voice. Tindyl turned her head and saw her dearest friend, the pandaren’s hand was outstretched as if the physical contact would solidify her friend in time and space. They just needed to touch. All around them the eyes of The Corruptor sprouted out of the ground, shrieking and hideous. Tindyl’s eyes swept the battlefield, taking account of her people and those that still stood. Her guild fought bravely, fighting against their own demons surely as N’zoth infiltrated the quiet corners of their minds. She turned to Kagurah, took a single step before she staggered backward in the face of an enraged ally. Their paladin. He had succumbed to the madness.

“Highlord,” Tindyl held out a hand, but the man was charging toward her with sword drawn. “Forgive me,” she whispered as her hands pushed forward and the winds of their natural word rushed out from her fingertips. The gust knocked the paladin back but only stalled him. Kagurah summoned a totem, seeing the change in their once trusted ally who now sought to see their leader’s blood. Before the totem’s effect could stop the human, a great hammer brimming with light struck Tindyl and brought her, stunned, to her knees.

“Tindyl!” Tindyl knew that voice, even in her weakened state where her limbs would not obey her mind. Her warrior. Eyes flickered over and caught the fading vision of her lover, his black hair whipping around his face as he thrust his sword up and into one of the looming eyes; his shield was held up to block a counter assault as he looked over his shoulder just in time to watch the hammer drop and strike down the Archdruid. Tindyl wished she could have comforted him. The look of worry on his face made her heart sink. That was her last thought as she flopped backward, lying upon the ground where the paladin had stunned her. Everything grew dim, the edges of her vision blurred. There was a vague recognition of Kagurah’s magic swirling about her in attempt to heal but Tindyl was sinking, being swallowed up by the darkness. It was quiet, almost…comforting.

“Tindyl.” A new voice. No, an old voice. “Tindyl.” How much time had passed between Tindyl’s body thumping against the ground to the moment her eyes peeled open, she couldn’t say but when she opened them and the haze began to clear away, she looked up at the ethereal form of her father.

“An’da?” Her voice croaked as if it had been unused for centuries. Her father’s arms slipped beneath hers, seeming to lift her up.

“On your feet,” he commanded gently, his face more tender than Tindyl ever remembered seeing it before. There was so much left unsaid between them after she had chosen to join the Alliance. Bai’len, the Guardian druid set like thick roots in his old ways—he disagreed with her choice and more so, hated her pursuance of healing magics. Tindyl’s lips parted as if to speak but all she could manage was to stare at him, eyes glittering even in the dank lighting of the old god’s lair. “Do you not remember who you are? Where you’ve come from? Your people are with you now.” As her father spoke, Tindyl looked away only for a moment and felt more sets of hands pressing her spine upward, setting her on her feet. She saw the ghostly white fingers that held her up in tandem with the strong arms of her father.

“An’da, I’m sorry.” Tindyl wept silently, tears cascading down her cheeks as the light within her faded.

“My child,” Bai’len’s rough fingers curled around Tindyl’s jaw, dwarfing her. “Stand firm in who you are. Feel the strength of your ancestors restore you. Remember who you are and who you were meant to be, hm?” Tindyl’s brow furrowed as her father looked out to where her allies still fought, even in the wake of her loss. They were covered in blood, some brought to their knees as weapons were knocked from their grasp. N’zoth was slithering into their minds, exposing their grief over the fallen Kaldorei and sinking into their souls. “Save them.” Bai’len looked at Tindyl. “Elune makes no mistakes,” his hand shifted from her jaw to the plump curve of her cheek. “Heal them.” The permission to use her gifts from her father. It was like a door had opened within her heart. Tindyl’s arms flew up above her, eyes searching for the light that beamed down upon her like Elune herself reached down her moonlit tendrils and washed away the corruption from her favored druid’s mind. The peaceful rains of Tranquility fell over their party. Hibikami, once brought to his knee felt the renewal of his ferocity, scraped up his axe and heaved it in one mighty blow. The weapon sliced through the air and planted within the sclera of one of N’zoth’s eyes. The creature wailed and fell. The dwarf laughed, sprinted forward to collect his weapon only to chop down another crying stalk. Kagurah looked to where Tindyl’s body had rested when she felt the rain, it could have only come from their Archdruid.

All the while, Bai’len held his daughter, smiling. Tindyl’s eyes had left the spotlight that Elune shined down upon her, glued now to her father’s face. She wanted to stay in the moment for the rest of her long life. Bai’len looked down at her and their eyes met. They regarded one another for several moments before Tindyl was snatched out of her father’s arms. The druid yelped softly, tumbling across the floor and into the torso of their human priest. A life grip.

“Tindyl, are you alright?” The human was touching her shoulder, but the moment Tindyl righted herself and crawled back on her knees she was looking back toward where her father had held her. Where she’d felt the embrace of her people holding her up. They were all gone. Breath came in short, rapid puffs as she held her gaze longer, hopeful that Bai’len would return. It was nothing more than a fleeting vision sent to her by Elune, perhaps. “Archdruid!”

“I’m fine,” she said suddenly, coming to her senses and feeling the weight of her responsibility. While she grieved upon the ground her guild still fought. A quick swipe at her eyes and she was nodding. “I’m fine,” she said again as she rose to her feet. The priest stood with her; hands latched on to Tindyl’s arm. There was a lull in the fight. Everyone paused and looked to her both with relief and concern. They were taxed. Exceedingly tired. “My friends,” she panted softly, seeing the despair in their eyes. Tindyl shook her head, “do not succumb to the darkness, drown out the whispers of N’zoth. Stand firm in who you are.” The words of her father echoed within the grotesque halls, and she felt emboldened. “Do not forget why you are here, why we fight.” Tindyl bared her canines, “For Azeroth!” A rally of cries reverberated the air, sending a new pulsing energy through their party. Tindyl’s body conformed to the four-legged feline once more, she leapt through the air, claws sinking in to a newly sprouted eye. It shrieked as her fangs sunk into its bulbous head, it bled and wilted to the ground. The cat sprinted alongside Kagurah, rubbing along the Pandaren’s hip once as they exchanged a look. ‘Don’t die on me again.’ Tindyl could hear it now. The cat grinned, a growl wrapped around it before the two dove back into battle.

Back-to-back they fought. Wisps of water flowed up and out as Kagurah spread her healing rain and the leaves of Tindyl’s magic swirled around her allies, mending their wounds. Their third healer, the priest, joined them a glittering ring formed around him and pulsed outward to strengthen and heal their allies. Together, they would save their home. For the Alliance, for the horde, and for all the lives lost throughout the trials of both sides.

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

Letter from Artaxerxes

11 This is the text of the letter King Artaxerxes gave to Ezra the priest and scribe, an expert in matters of the Lord’s commands and statutes for Israel:

12 Artaxerxes, king of kings, to Ezra the priest, an expert in the law of the God of the heavens:

Greetings.

13 I issue a decree that any of the Israelites in my kingdom, including their priests and Levites, who want to go to Jerusalem, may go with you. 14 You are sent by the king and his seven counselors to evaluate Judah and Jerusalem according to the law of your God, which is in your possession. 15 You are also to bring the silver and gold the king and his counselors have willingly given to the God of Israel, whose dwelling is in Jerusalem, 16 and all the silver and gold you receive throughout the province of Babylon, together with the freewill offerings given by the people and the priests to the house of their God in Jerusalem. 17 Then you are to be diligent to buy with this money bulls, rams, and lambs, along with their grain and drink offerings, and offer them on the altar at the house of your God in Jerusalem. 18 You may do whatever seems best to you and your brothers with the rest of the silver and gold, according to the will of your God. 19 Deliver to the God of Jerusalem all the articles given to you for the service of the house of your God. 20 You may use the royal treasury to pay for anything else needed for the house of your God.

21 I, King Artaxerxes, issue a decree to all the treasurers in the region west of the Euphrates River:

Whatever Ezra the priest, an expert in the law of the God of the heavens, asks of you must be provided in full, 22 up to 7,500 pounds of silver, 500 bushels of wheat, 550 gallons of wine, 550 gallons of oil, and salt without limit. 23 Whatever is commanded by the God of the heavens must be done diligently for the house of the God of the heavens, so that wrath will not fall on the realm of the king and his sons. 24 Be advised that you do not have authority to impose tribute, duty, and land tax on any priests, Levites, singers, doorkeepers, temple servants, or other servants of this house of God.

25 And you, Ezra, according to God’s wisdom that you possess, appoint magistrates and judges to judge all the people in the region west of the Euphrates who know the laws of your God and to teach anyone who does not know them. 26 Anyone who does not keep the law of your God and the law of the king, let the appropriate judgment be executed against him, whether death, banishment, confiscation of property, or imprisonment.

27 Blessed be the Lord, the God of our ancestors, who has put it into the king’s mind to glorify the house of the Lord in Jerusalem, 28 and who has shown favor to me before the king, his counselors, and all his powerful officers. So I took courage because I was strengthened by the hand of the Lord my God, and I gathered Israelite leaders to return with me. — Ezra 7:11-28 | Christian Standard Bible (CSB) The Christian Standard Bible. Copyright © 2017 by Holman Bible Publishers. Christian Standard Bible®, and CSB® are federally registered trademarks of Holman Bible Publishers, all rights reserved. Cross References: Exodus 8:9; Numbers 15:4; 1 Chronicles 29:6; 2 Chronicles 6:2; Ezra 4:10; Ezra 5:5; Ezra 6:1; Ezra 6:4; Ezra 6:8; Ezra 6:10-12; Ezra 7:1; Ezra 7:6; Nehemiah 2:7; Jeremiah 27:22; Jeremiah 29:7; Matthew 9:9; Matthew 23:2; Colossians 1:28

[nnahry]

PALESTINE- Education/Awareness & Advocation

Withholding the option of the COVID-19 vaccine from Palestinians is one of the numerous human rights violations committed by Israeli  government. Click here for a pre-written letter to send to your local representative in Congress demanding medical equality for Palestinians living under illegal Israeli  occupation. 

Know what your tax dollars are being spent on. Click here to learn about US aid to Palestine over the years and it’s current resumptions after the termination of the Trump administration. Upon reading, keep in mind that resumption doesn’t necessarily mean things are at the level they should be. 

There is such beauty in the struggle, despite the struggle. Click here to support Palestinian artists in Palestine by ordering their work from a local gallery there. 

“We can be sure that Israel’s lobby machine is hard at work, but so are we.” Your local congressmen/women are vital in strategically advocating for Palestine. Click here for a guide on how to organize a meeting with your representative and or their staff to discuss and teach about the illegal occupation of Palestine, and how they can help. The guide includes email templates to help you word your initial contact, and bullet pointed plan to help you orchestrate the actual meeting. I suggest this tool and corse of action only for those with extensive knowledge and experience. 

SADAQAH HIGHLIGHT Islamic Relief USA (IRUSA) is my favorite organization on the ground in countries spanning the globe, one of which being Palestine. They’ve worked to support Palestinians for decades. From 2017-2020 they served 1,779,682 people in Palestine. Click here for more information on their work and to donate whatever you can. 

Click here and scroll to the bottom for a list, compiled by the United Nations, of companies that profit off of the illegal occupation of Palestine. Some company names you may find familiar such as: AirBNB, General Mills, Delta, Motorola. Click here for a research center and tool dedicated to exposing the role of private sector in illegal Israeli occupation economy. 

Click here to view the Twitter account of IfNotNow, a Jewish American organization “building a movement of Jews to end the Israeli occupation and transform our community.”

Click here for a letter written to the editor of BBC News written by one of my favorite people, Zirrar ,calling the agency out for their biased coverage of what’s going on in Palestine right now.  You can copy, paste, sign your own name (or an alias name if that makes you more comfortable), and send it out via email. 

Click here for a 213-page report on apartheid and violence against Palestinians written by Omar Shakir, a two-time ISF Law Scholar and the Israel and Palestine Director for Human Rights Watch. Shakir was the lead researcher and author of this report which will be used to influence domestic and foreign policy and build awareness about injustice in Palestine.

Is Israel really a “Homeland for the Jews” or just a homeland for Israeli Jews? Click here for statistics about Ethiopian Jews in Israel. Pay close attention to the disparities they experience in education, employment, and discriminatory practices (violent racism) compared to that of Israelis in Israel.  You’ll notice some of these things are downplayed in this article written by the Jewish Virtual Library. Always be mindful your source/author when reading. Do not forget that a few small accomplishments of a community do not erase the injustices they face at the hands of the ruling party, similarly to the experience of African Americans in America. BBC also wrote an article on this issue which can be read here. Click here for another article by Anadolu Agency, written more recently, on this topic.  Click here for an article by Forbes on the forced sterilization Ethiopian Jewish woman faced at the hands of Israeli government. Click here for more details on the issue of forced sterilization in an article by Haaretz.  

SADAQAH HIGHLIGHT Stay up to date on news concerning the children of Palestine through DCI-Palestine (Defense for Children International-Palestine.) Find there website here. The organization defends children’s rights by offering free legal aid, documenting violations of international law, and advocating for greater protections. There’s a ton of statistics on their page as well as personal accounts, and other news stories. You can subscribe to their emailing list and also donate to further their cause. 

Learn about Israel’s Mahal Program, what I call Tourism Terrorism, here From their website: “...enlistment of non-Israelis and overseas Israelis. Their actual IDF service is shoulder to shoulder with regular Israeli soldiers, even if the minimum service time is usually shorter than the regular IDF paths. Otherwise there are no major differences.The programs aim to contribute to Israel's defense and to provide experienced and enthusiastic young leaders for Jewish communities.” The program seeks out children outside of Israel ages 18-23 years old and encourages to them to join the Israeli Military (terrorist organization,) the IDF. This young population is easiest to indoctrinate. All that is required to be eligible for the program is a Jewish ancestor. For the record, I know numerous people with absolutely no Jewish ancestors who were able to participate in Israel’s Birth Right program. Meaning, anyone can participate in the Mahal Program. The site also lists numerous “achievements,” goals, and statistics about the IDF and Mahal Program.  Click here and scroll down to 03 Israel to see the rewards these kids get for their time in the IDF, one of which being tuition free education in Israel and full citizenship. The program gives kids the opportunity to taste power and commit crimes against humanity by participating in an illegal occupation in a country foreign to their own, then head home as if it never happened. 

Click here for a letter to the NYT I wrote in response to their article sent out 5/18/2021 You can read the article here: “Israel vs. Hamas” Please consider copying the letter I wrote and/or using it as a template for your own letter to the NYT. Send the letter to nytnews@nytimes.com, find more contacts to send the letter to at this link. 

Reel Palestine created an archive of a bunch of different Palestinian films for our enjoyment and educational needs. Click here to view their Reel Palestine Home Edition. Some you have to pay for, some are free. Each one is worth all your time and money! A statement from Reel Palestine: “To support our community, Reel Palestine collected a list of accessible Palestinian films and curated talks between like-minded and engaged individuals that make up the global Palestinian film community.” 

[sideblog-for-thoughts]

Things I don’t understand about the USA

Alternative titel “America, what’s wrong with you?” I’m German, so what I know about living in the US comes mostly from Tumblr. Honestly, there’s a lot that’s apparently customary that I don’t understand. And not in the “different societies are interesting” kind of way, but more in the “how are you guys still alive?” kind of way. Maybe I misunderstood some things, maybe it’s not that bad over there. In that case, feel free to explain why this does make sense. But anyway, here’s the list:

1.) Cashiers aren’t allowed to sit...honestly, do you really have the health insurance system for all that chronic back pain?

2.) Tipping is mandatory as in, depending on the state, the waiting personnel won’t be able to afford to live without it?!

3.) Why is health insurance dependant on your job? What if you loose your job and your health insurance with it and then get sick? Hope it’s not lethal? Just why no universal health care?

4.) While I’m at this topic, apparently, there are chronically ill people that carry a note saying “Don’t call an ambulance, I can’t afford the bill.” How is that okay?! 

5.) American Taxes. So, you go into a store with five dollars in your pocket and buy an item that says two dollars on the label and it could still be that you can’t afford it because taxes? What do you guys do, subtract the taxes in front of everything you buy? Are you that good at maths or do you bring a calculator to every shopping trip?

6.) Pads and tampons are apparently taxed extra as “luxury”? Who ever thought those things were a luxury instead of necessary hygiene articles? I mean, in Germany they are not free either, but they are in the same price range as other hygiene things like razors, toothbrushes or diapers. 

7.) Dress codes. Girls get sent home for wearing clothes that could “distract the boys” but boys are technically allowed to come to school shirtless? I mean, leave alone the fact it’s not a girl’s job to make sure a guy controls himself and doesn’t drool over her, stuff like showing your shoulders and knees is seen as “distracting”? I thought you were supposed to be the free progressive country, not the Victorian one? Schools here often have a paragraph saying “students must wear appropriate clothing”, but I’ve never witnessed or heard from anyone being sanctioned for wearing inappropriate clothing, so this paragraph would probably apply to arriving only in your underwear or something.

8.) Why does every psychopath who wants to own a gun can do so without regulations? How is it okay that kids have actual drills for school shootings because they are so common?

9.) Why are you charged for college applications? What do people do that can only afford one application and get rejected? Or can afford not even the application? Also, better colleges are more expensive to even apply to?  How are that equal education chances? 

10.) Seen a million times in sitcoms: Subjects (usually Arts and Music) some head staff deems “unimportant” just get cut when there’s not enough money? In general, public schools actually don’t give an education as good as private schools because of a lower budget? How does that not discriminate between poor and rich?

11.) Why do people whose ancestors immigrated from England or Ireland complain about people who immigrate from other countries now? There is no “American” culture, if anything, it would be the natives tribes’ cultures and even they are all different. Just face the fact that your family arriving at the earliest 300-some years ago doesn’t make the country “yours”. There were people there whose country your ancestors took. Being the first immigrant (which you probably not even are) doesn’t make you the country’s owner either. Also, My local church is older than the United States.

12.) You never made masks mandatory during the pandemic? Not even in public transport or in schools? And then you didn’t even freely provide them for cashier’s and staff who had to continue meeting people?

13.) Why are people allowed to freely proclaim the Holocaust didn’t happen in your country? In Germany, that’s called falsification of history and is an actual crime, so is wearing or showing nazi symbols or flags. “Freedom of Speech” is a great thing, but it shouldn’t cover hate speech and denying and veiling historical facts.

14.) A women that wants her tubes tied needs to get her husband’s permission?! I thought we were over a women needing a man’s permission for anything since the 70s? If I wanted that, I could just see a doctor and schedule the surgery. The only problem would be that my health insurance wouldn’t cover it except if it was medically necessary.

15.) Not as severe as the others but still: Who came up with your measurement systems? I could get used to Fahrenheit (although you’re the only ones to use it, I’m afraid), but miles are just weird and don’t get me started on feet and inches. How is anyone supposed to know how to convert these? 

[5lazarus]

End-of-Year Writers' Ask! 6 and 7

thanks for the ask! :) these require a lot of those T.T 6. What’s your favourite piece of dialogue you wrote this year? “Quark,” Odo growled. Quark splashed innocently. “What?” “The splashing.” “I have a right to splash,” Quark said. “If you’re humming, I can splash. There’s no law against that.” “There should be,” Odo said. “Being a public nuisance.” 7. What’s your favourite piece of description or narration? fanfic from a game you’ve never played--basically the guy who breaks into heaven tries to rip the key to what is basically Jerusalem that got locked away in a different dimension off the player character’s hand, though the character is only just starting to piece together how fucked they are. they start an avalanche and try to rejoin everyone on the other side of the mountains. it’s a long slough that they make the player drive their character through, which is very effective storybuilding on the first playthrough, a bit much on your second and third.

Everything hurt but she was hot, hot, hot on cold stone, her mother had died burning herself in her rage and half an army too, protecting the People, that is what a Dalish mage does, da’len, if you must lose yourself be grand about it, and make sure someone will sing of your name, oh mamae, your little favorite is dead, Halla’den didn’t do anything grand but I was killed by a would-be god, maybe human, Tevinter definitely, legend killed me and legend can resurrect me too, my children will not be ashamed of me, now all will know Clan Lavellan can only be killed by the gods, not mortal might. She opened her eyes and saw light trickling down a stone shaft. Not dead yet: fuck. Selfish, selfish: get the fuck up.

She touched her feet: still there, no toes broken, and her ankles and knees survived the fall too. Her ribs hurt, every breath choked, but she could move her fingers, her arms, and her eyes still saw through the dark. Falon’din had not come to claim her yet. Imladris used her staff to level herself up, and began to drag herself through. She did not let herself look back. When Antoine of Jader came to marry the Duchess of Wycombe, he brought an Orlesian guard and their prejudices. The Dalish towns that flourished within the Wycome Delta--Imladris, the Golden Wood, Ithilien--revolted them. Wycombe and its rivers belonged to the Duke, they said, and all must pay their tithe to the Chantry. It did not matter that these settlements predated the Blight, that the Dalish moved seamlessly from the city-elves and smaller towns for centuries. It did not matter that the Free Marcher inhabitants of the city-state were not fond of even more taxes levied, paid to the Orlesian Chantry and to the Duke and even to the Empress of Orlais. Wycombe remembered it had been Dalish wardens who saved the city from the Blight. Its new duke did not care. And when she was a child, he struck: to clear the Dalish out. Mamae, mamae you and Keeper burned the city to keep the shem from taking it and I would not have done that to Haven, I didn’t particularly care for an empty hut, a bathtub with no one to share it with, the only other elves wary servants, flinching every time Cassandra glanced at them, I didn’t want to die for some Chantry religion, not where Shartan was buried, not like this. They docked his ears but at least they gave him the Dales. What will they do to me, if I die? Mamae, mamae, you burned . Let me carry that anger, that heat, my magic like your magic keeping me warm. Into the snowblind whiteness Imladris stumbled out of the cave, and distantly a wolf howled. “Fen’Harel ma ghilana,” she choked. She fell to her knees, cold seeping into the blood-soaked lambswool of her leggings, why had she not let Harrit talk her into proper chainmail? Or leather? “Fenhedis lasa.” She did not want to die, ripped apart by wolves, bones cast about by the storm. Something would come back if she died like that. She clenched her hands into fists and, huffing, heaved herself back up. Breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe like the molten core under the sea. She coughed sparks into her hands and walked. Keep moving, Lavellan. You have survived worse than this. Dead in a ditch off the Ithilien River, if that farmer hadn’t found you. Starved out in the Barghello in Wycombe proper, if Sister Lucie hadn’t intervened. Dead in her own namesake, Imladris, a burnt out shell, when the guards came. Dead, dead, dead, dead and publicly executed  if Briala hadn’t gotten you and Mahanon out of Val Royeaux when you robbed the University: stupid fucking idea but how dare they. How dare. Outrage was good, outrage helped bank the fire, Halla’den had fallen to a Despair demon, but Imladris was stronger than that, older, more experienced, better trained. Nothing but the cold would nip at her mind. “Keep fucking walking,” she told herself. Breathing was difficult, like a lodestone in her chest. No pendant, nothing for them to loot, the boy had it, Cole, Varric wouldn’t let him steal it, she gave it in full of everyone, someone, who knows, it would get to her daughters and they would know they could wear her legacy, something of both of them, gone but the stone remained, in the Frostbacks only the dwarves and the Avvar eked an unlikely living, the closest Dalish clan was Boranehn, and she had met the arl that commanded them, hadn’t she? Vivienne said she had done bad. Well she was punished, if only it would be only her punished, if she died with this fucking Anchor dragging her down would that mean that creature could not take it? If she died they would all die too. She passed a hastily-built campfire, still smoldering, and stopped a second to flare the embers. Her Keeper had taught her a trick, to siphon off the heat from another’s fire, to conserve one’s own energy. She had taught it to Mathalin, but Mirwen was too young when she left. Deshanna would take over the training, she must have already begun, and Imladris shuddered as the wind kicked snow into her face, if she stopped she would freeze to death, be eaten by wolves, taken by despair. So cold it felt like her feet were burning as they were losing sensation, she lugged herself through the snow, kicked into her face like glass after the explosion, when a different Carta clan had blown up her printing press, was it the wind or the wolves or some hungry ghosts howling. Regardless the Frostbacks soared higher than her eyes could track, granite mountains older than her gods and she asked Dirthamen, you guard the knowledge lost to your children, but if you have mercy, any mercy at all, if you want this knowledge to carry on, reveal one of those lost caches the ancestors left. These mountains were old when Elgar’nan was still new, blinking into the blinding sun: show me where we carved the mountain path. Everywhere I walk I go in the steps of those who lived before. Ensure that there will be those after me. Spring down the mountain but no spring here: Imladris could not feel her feet anymore, and when she fell she wailed as she clambered on her hands and her knees, she did not want to die like this, the Dalish did not bend the knee. Thought faded as consciousness became only the snow on the mountain, the unthinking rock, the ice that cut, inch by inch, piece by piece, nothing special. Dirthamen ghilana ma : an old cry, never answered. The god of secrets kept his counsel close. A pile of snow, raised higher than the others: she tripped over it, a pot, Ferelden-style, the smell of stew still frozen to it. Imladris gasped, cutting through the pain, and wrenched herself back: there was still a chance. She coughed, sparks flying, and sent that pulse of mana back down to her feet. The pain was not a mistake: it was a reminder she was still alive. She screamed anyway. In Duke Antoine’s prison, there had been a Tal-Vashoth that had murmured to herself the Soul Canto during the worst of it, when they were left alone listening to what was being done on the other side of the world. She would say, “If you love purpose, fall into the tide. Let it carry you. Do not fear the dark. The sun and the stars will return to guide you. The sea and the sky themselves: Nothing special. Only pieces.” “Nothing special,” Imladris repeated to herself, lumbering on. “Only pieces. Nothing special. Only pieces.” Elves saw better than shem and qunari in the dark. Hallucinatory the sun creeped into the mountains, shifting steel to gold, her blood moving, Elgar’nan’s father returned by Mythal’s mercy, no secret, only pieces. Fire in the body, blood in the limbs, dawn coming she reached the top of a slope and exhausted, gazed down at a herd of druffalo snuffling amongst tents: Avvar? A bear came running and Imladris fell to her knees. Dirthamen had answered: nothing special, just pieces. “Lavellan! Lavellan! Maker, she’s alive. Cassandra, get a medic!” Not Dirthamen. Fucking Inquisition. With that realization, she let the sun take her, and melted into its warmth.

[valkyrieofthehighfae]

A collection of quotes

Thought I would do a little something fun and start up a little collection of quotes from my OCs! It’s definitely a post that’ll get updated fairly often, so be on the lookout for new quotes from the gang!

Valkyrie:

"Pff amateur. I've already started drinking again.”

“In retrospect, that was stupid. The working title of my memoir”

“I wasn’t planning on going for a run today. But then those cops came out of nowhere.”

“Don’t break anybody’s heart, they only have one. Break their bones, they have 206”

"Trust no man, fear no bitch"

"I wasn't ready for half the shit I went through, but obviously I was built for it.”

“You walked into my life when I apparently needed you most. And for that, I will always be grateful”

“Do not tell me what I can and cannot do”

“Personally I’m both fucked up and misunderstood”

“What’s a girl gotta do to get into a proper brawl around here?”

“Filled with poison but blessed with beauty and rage”

“Say a prayer to the gods friend and let’s drink like we’ll be going to Valhalla tomorrow”

“If you want change, you have to invite the chaos”

“A healer’s hands are often the most bloody. We cut out infection and tell death not today when we get a win. So raise a glass to those who do the bloody work and praise the gods for their skills”

“I had to fight like hell and fighting like hell has made me what I am”

Danica:

“What - and I cannot stress this enough - the fuck?”

“You’re stronger than you think. You’ll always be stronger than you think. Feel with your heart and do what you want”

“Everything you feel is temporary”

“I look at you, and I just love you, and it terrifies me. It terrifies me what I would do for you”

"I'm sorry, I don't take orders. I barely take suggestions"

“Some people are just born with tragedy in their blood”

“Because I’m not human, okay? I don’t work the way you do. I don’t feel things the way you do. I feel everything all the more deeply and it leaves me aching every time”

“I get lost in pretending to be human”

“I don’t like being told what to do”

Keres:

"I wear heels bigger than your dick. Move along peasant, you're not worthy of speaking to me"

“I woke up today and spun the wheel of attitude. Yep! It landed on bitch again!”

“I became a monster to survive a monster”

“I’m scared as hell to want you. But here I am, wanting you anyway.”

“You found parts of me I didn’t know existed and in you I found a love I no longer believed was real”

“And what is it you think I need? Love? Only men need to be loved, sweetheart. Women need to be wanted”

"I won't be remembered as a woman who keeps her mouth shut. I'm okay with that"

"I'm not a hero, I don't do good. It's not in me"

"The only person I've ever genuinely been afraid of is my mother"

"I'm not the good guy, remember? I'm the selfish one. I take what I want, I do what I want. I don't do the right thing. And I hurt everyone around me because it's easier to hurt people than it is to let them in and let myself be loved"

"I never had a chance to be soft. I was always bloody knuckles and shards of glass. I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me"

“Kneel before me”

“I stopped being a child the day you sent me down here to die”

“I’m afraid of what I’ve become”

“I’m everything you can’t control”

Ashlyn:

“I just know I’ll die trying to pet something that I shouldn’t”

“I am my ancestors’ wildest dream”

“You have me. Until every last star in the galaxy dies, you have me”

“How terrible is it to love something that death can touch?”

“I’m sorry that you were not truly loved and that it made you cruel”

Natalya:

“Apparently ‘spite’ and ‘vengeance’ are not an appropriate answer to ‘what motivates you’”

“I am not responsible for what my face does when you talk to me”

"I'm tough. I'm ambitious and I know exactly what I want. If that makes me a bitch, okay"

“Once I got my sight back, it’s all over for you, class acts”

“Clever as the Devil and twice as pretty”

“I am not a stranger to the dark”

“I know what I want and I’m going to get it”

“They broke the wrong parts of me. They broke my wings and forgot I had claws”

“I’m coming for my crown”

Nyx:

“My mother didn’t raise a fool. A cold-hearted bitch perhaps, but not a fool”

“I’m not just beautiful. I’m otherworldly and vaguely threatening”

"Know your worth. Then add tax"

“Anger makes you stupid. Stupid gets you killed. So be smart about going after your enemies. Goad them into making mistakes and you will slaughter them. Victory will be at hand and history will remember that you didn’t even have to raise a hand in violence to achieve it”

“A wolf is a wolf. Even in a cage. Even dressed in silk.”

“Don’t play games with me. Don’t ever, ever think you’re capable of that”

Briar:

“Maybe my mom was right all those years ago. Maybe I won’t be happy until someone loses an eye. Maybe that’s what’s been missing”

"Once again I'm falsely accused of whatever I'm being accused of. Falsely"

“Ah, there he is. That motherfucker. What a tool”

“If I can still breathe, I’m fine”

“The Fae? Fuck the Fae. Bunch of stuck up asswipes is what they are”

Rune:

“If I say ‘first of all’, run away because I have prepared research, data, charts, and I will destroy you”

“I have neither the time nor crayons to explain it to you”

“Why do you bad-touch words like that?”

“Take a deep breath and remember who the fuck you are”

“Blah, blah, blah… shut up”

Hally:

“I gotta see the candy first. Then I get in the van. I’m not stupid”

“I woke up this morning and I chose chaos”

“That’s the world. Everything you build, it tears down. Everything you’ve got, it takes. The only choices you get are to lie down or keep going. That’s as close to beating the world as anyone gets.”

“In my defense, I was left unsupervised”

“Chill, it’s only chaos”

Blade:

“I whatever'd when I should have hell no’ed”

“The big ass spider in my room is now named Cotton Eyed Joe because I want to know two things: where did he come from, where did he go”

“That’s not very punk of you”

Aurelia:

“ℐ 𝒶𝓅𝓅𝓇ℯ𝒸𝒾𝒶𝓉ℯ 𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝓂ℴ𝓇ℯ 𝒷ℯ𝒸𝒶𝓊𝓈ℯ ℴ𝒻 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝓇ℴ𝒶𝒹 ℐ 𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓋ℯ𝓁ℯ𝒹. ℳ𝓎 𝓈𝓉ℴ𝓇𝓎 𝒷𝓇ℴ𝓊ℊ𝒽𝓉 𝓂ℯ 𝓉ℴ 𝓎ℴ𝓊, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 ℐ 𝓌ℴ𝓊𝓁𝒹𝓃’𝓉 𝓇ℯ𝓋𝒾𝓈ℯ 𝒶 𝓌ℴ𝓇𝒹 ℴ𝒻 𝓂𝓎 𝓅𝒶𝓈𝓉 𝒾𝒻 𝒾𝓉 𝓁ℯ𝒹 𝓂ℯ 𝒶𝓃𝓎𝓌𝒽ℯ𝓇ℯ 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝓎ℴ𝓊𝓇 𝒹ℴℴ𝓇“

Sylvain:

“She was a child that was forced to grow up”

"I was worried that you had no humanity left inside you. That you might have actually become the monster that you pretend to be"

“If you look at what you have in life, you’ll always have more. If you look at what you don’t have in life, you’ll never have enough”

[madamlaydebug]

GESARA IS IN FULL EFFECT, THE EA VIA KING JOHN III & TRUMP NOW OWN THE COMMONWEALTH, ALL ITS STATES, INCLUDING CANADA, USA, AUSTRAILIA, ETC.

March 2019 Royal Powers were stripped. Exactly as of late Nov. 2019 all Royal Assets were seized.

On May 16, 2020 the seal at Buckingham Palace was removed the first time ever and the new King will live there soon. See www.youtube.com/watch?v=7bA5A5Ie0V4 and www.youtube.com/channel/UCX-klsnS6_X847NydCRG4lQ/videos.

GESARA is in full effect. The EA via King John III and Trump now own the Commonwealth, all Its states, including Canada, USA, Austrailia, etc.

The Aramic Christian Prayer for the New Golden Age

To That Which Gave Birth to the Cosmos,

Immerse Me in Your Fire of Creation

Render Me Wise, with Love and Equity to Share,

Free Me From Karma,

Those Around Me From Debt.

And Ensure I Have Enough to Live On,

My Hands and Heart Are Ready.

Animate the Earth Beneath My Feet,

And Set My Heart Free.

Let Your Harmony Vibrate My Will.

Immerse Me In Sound and Light,

So That I May Experience Your Breath of Life.

Let My Will Be A Fractal of Your Harmony Vibration.

Give Lively Strength To My (Your) True Purpose.

And Renew Me As A Song Of Beauty From Age to Age.

I Return My Vibrating Light and Sound Into Your Astonishing Cosmic Fire.

* * * * * * *

by Joseph Gregory Hallet, KING JOHN III.

BREAKING NEWS

WE HAVE A NEW KING. THE ENTIRE VATICAN ARE ARRESTED. THE POPE HAS ABDICATED AND IS UNDER ARMED GUARD.

ELIZABETH II IS IN PRISON.

SATAN HAS BEEN TOPPLED ALONG WITH THE NAZI, ROTTEN ROYALS. BRITAIN WILL BE RESTORED TO GREATNESS UNDER GOOD KING JOHN III

JOSEPH GREGORY HALLETT. ARMA CHRISTI. UNVEILING THE ROSE.

The rightful King of England is King John III. He previously sent his claim to 10 Downing Street who always pretended not to receive it. David Cameron came up with a plan to prevent King John claiming his rightful title. He told the queen that William must marry in order for them to have an opportunity to change the rights of succession. William swiftly chose out of his girlfriends (he had more than one).

The rights of succession were changed to allow only heirs of William and Harry. They hid this between two other changes--allowing either gender and also allowing Catholics.

David Cameron--knowing too much by that time - had to resign.

However as neither William or Harry are legitimate heirs (they are not Charles' sons) they cannot inherit and as the royal family shot themself in the foot by stating only William and Harry's children could inherit--they cannot make a claim using either Charles and Camilla's hidden child or Charles' other hidden child.

The queen herself is not the legitimate queen as her true father is Tsar Alexander of Russia. This is because the royal family by rule never have legitimate children. Diana's sons do not belong to Charles biologically. The queens' children are not biologically Philips', queen Victoria's children were not Alberts biological children, Kate Middleton's children are not prince William's biological children and so on. This rule is imposed on them by an agreement they have with the Rothschilds family.

The royal family are the mafia. They are partners in crime with the Rothschild's family--a partnership which is very lucrative for them. The queen is the worlds largest heroin trafficker. They pay for this by ensuring all heirs are illegitimate--this gives the Rothschild's control over them--they can blackmail them. So when the Rothschilds want there to be a war the queen will willingly sign off and agree to those wars, etc. All royal children are fathered by leading members of the Rothschild family.

Hitler was himself a Rothschild. The Nazis actually won the war, it's still going on and is only now ending. They then dispersed around the globe to positions of power. Hitler went to Argentina with Eva Braun and their baby Ann. In Argentina he had a further 3 daughters. His daughters are: Angela Merkel, Theresa May, Obama's mother Ann and the Prime Minister of Lithuania. As a child Merkel was sent to Europe to live with an adoptive family to enable her to attend the best schools and prepare for her future role. The 4th Reich began on Nov 22. 2005. Hitler's first daughter, Ann, gave birth to Barack Obama's baby 'Barry' when she was 19. This baby was president Barack Obama.

Closely related to these people are: the Clintons, the Bush's, Epstein, Gates, prince Andrew, the queen, Trudeau, Weinstein, Soros, LadyGaga, Comey, Podesta, Abramovic, Pelosi, Oprah, Affleck.

These people are CLOSELY related. They are all the same bloodline and near family members.

They have been hiding a lot from us.

One thing they were hiding is that we have a King:

King John III of Scotland, of all Ireland, England, New Zealand, Canada, Australia and the titular Prince Regent Duke Govenor of North America.

Our history is simply a narrative dispensed by the corrupt media and invented by the winner WWII- the nazis.

Ann Boleyn was never executed. She lived and her grandson was Walter Raleigh. Joseph Gregory Hallett is her direct descendent. He was born with the title of Christ, which he inherited from his ancestor Walter Raleigh who earned it on July 16, 1596.

He is a direct descendent of Eleanor of Acquitaine, Queen consort of France, who instigated the Christian Ministries for the Holy Grail Lineage.

The queen and the pope have certified that Ann Boleyn's 'execution' was faked.

To carry the title of King John of England you have to have be the 'Sangreal' or the 'Christ'.

Only the sangreal can carry the title: 'King John of England'.

Joseph Gregory Hallet posted his claim to the President of the US and Elizabeth II. POTUS contacted the queen throuugh diplomatic channels and said 'Is this true? Is there anything you want to deny?' The queen couldn't deny any of it. She then went in to hiding.

POTUS then took over the British Empire until King John III enters Buckingham Palace. King John III submitted his official claim in early Nov. 2019.

This put the world in a precarious position. We were at grave risk of war or terrorism. We are now in a spiritual war. The Cabal are being brought down. King John III was certified and crowned on April 6, 2020.

Buckingham Palace is currently being renovated and repainted in preparation for his arrival. This is partly because the activites within the Palace have been so monstrous that one would want to clean and repaint before living there.

The patriots and the white hats are working together to tear themselves away from the association with the treaties signed in 1720 which enslaved the American nation into slavery under the monarchy to the point where all the taxes from America were being sent to the city of London and siphoned from there to the Vatican.

Because King John III has the title of 'Christ' under the holy grail lineage he was able to execute the Nights of Malta out of the Vatican--where they were in charge of the world's money supply.

He informed Pres. Trump of this, who took note of it. This allowed Pres. Trump to absorb the Fed into the US Treasury, with him as the Head of the Treasury.

The Vatican is now no longer in control of the money supply. King John III is now confirmed and certified as the Pope of Christ by the (now ex) pope who did this in action on Easter Friday, after having closed down the whole world for Lent.

King John III is now the Pope and owns everything the Vatican does. The pope (ex) has now abdicated his title 'the vicar of Christ'.

The ex-Pope and 350 members of the Vatican staff have been arrested and charged and are currently all under licence.

The ex-pope is under house arrest at his holiday residence and is not in the Vatican. He is under armed guard.

It is no wonder Donald Trump wants to 'Drain The Swamp'.

The Royal Navy said to King John III that they're absolutely sick of transporting the queens heroin around' saying, 'it's all we do'.

The emblem has been removed from Buckingham Palace and also 10 Downing Street. New seals have been designed for 10 Downing Street and Buckingham Palace. These events will soon be made public.