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#dunks myself into a river
balkanradfem · 2 years
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ive just read your riven in january post and i wanted to say that i love every story you post but im also always so anxious for you! its something that id love to do too but im always too scared (ive done it just once in a really cold mountain lake, but it was summer so im not sure it counts xD). i admire your courage! i wish you all the best (and i also wish your seedlings all the best :D)
Yes it counts! And I think I've had my behaviour heavily enabled by watching northern youtubers do this in the middle of ice water (Isabel Paige, Jonna Jilton, Hannah Lee Duggan sometimes) and whenever I see them do it and not get sick, I'm like, this must be normal and harmless human behaviour and I crave it.
It's better to do it in summer when you'll warm right back up and not get sick from being too cold! I know people in cold regions do it, but then immediately go to a sauna to warm back up, that I think is the correct way to do it. (But I've also seen Isabel Paige do it and then just sit in the snow in her bikini for 10 minutes so, mixed reviews.)
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burning-sol · 2 years
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Guys within the first few minutes of the Rolled are you fucking kidding me. WELP time for me to binge ALL the just rolleds because nobody cares about Exandroth so *I* have to be the one to hunt down info on him.
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I have encountered issues with JVP in the past in regards to not accommodating kashrut/shabbat observance (and wheelchairs), but previously hasn’t heard about the Mikvah thing. Do you have any sources I can refer to?
Oh boy. Oh boy oh boy oh boy. The noise I made when I saw this ask.
You are probably unaware but I have literally been working on a post on this topic since February. Bless you for asking me about it and giving me a reason to share it. Genuinely. I'm delighted.
Without further ado, now that I've finally finished:
On the JVP Mikveh BS
Some of you are no doubt aware of the Jewish Voice for Peace Mikveh Guide (on JVP’s website here, and here on the Wayback Machine in case that link breaks). You may have seen the post I reblogged about it, you may have seen the post about JVP in general on @is-the-thing-actually-Jewish, or you may have heard about it elsewhere. Or maybe you’ve somehow managed to avoid all knowledge of its existence. (God I wish that were me.) Even if you know about it, even if you’ve scanned through it, you probably haven’t taken the time to read it through properly.
I have.
God help me.
I was originally looking through it to help draft the @is-the-thing-actually-Jewish post back in February, but some terrible combination of horror, indignation, and probably masochism compelled me to do a close reading, so that I could write this analysis and share it with you, dear readers. For those of you who’ve never heard of a mikvah, for those of you who’ve immersed in one, for those of you who’ve studied it intensely—I give you this, the fruit of my suffering, so you too can understand why “Mikveh: A Purification Ritual for Personal and Collective Transformation,” written by Zohar Lev Cunningham and Rebekah Erev for Jewish Voice for Peace has got so many people up in arms.
Brace yourselves. It’s going to be a long journey.
First off, a disclaimer: When I say something is “required in Jewish law” or whatnot, I’m talking about in traditional practice / Torah-observant communities; what is often called “Orthodox.” There’s a wide range of Jewish practice, and what is required in frum (observant) Judaism may not be required in Reform Judaism, etc. Don’t at me.
Second note: I myself am Modern Orthodox, and come from that perspective. I’m also very much more on the rationalist side than the mysticism side of things. I did run this past people from other communities. Still, if I’ve missed or misrepresented something, it was my error and was not meant maliciously.
Third: I am not a rabbi. I am a nerd who likes explaining things and doing deep dives. Again, I may have made errors–please let me know if you spot any, and I’d be happy to discuss them.
Now then. Before we get into the text itself, let’s give some background.
WHAT IS THIS MIKVEH THING ANYWAY?
A mikveh (or mikvah, both they and I switch between spellings; plural mikva’ot) is a Jewish ritual bath, sometimes translated as an immersion pool. Some communities or organizations that run mikva’ot will have a single all-purpose all-purpose, some have separate human- and utensil-pools, and some have separate women’s and men’s pools. The majority of the water in a mikvah has to be “living waters,” i.e. naturally collected rather than from a tap or a bucket. Some natural bodies of water can also be used, such as the ocean and some rivers (ask your local rabbi). The construction is complicated and has extremely detailed requirements. Here’s an example of a modern mikvah:
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(By Wikimedia Commons (ויקיגמדון) - Own work, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=17373540)
Whoever is being dunked (the scientific term) has to be entirely immersed, and the water has to be in direct contact with all of them. That means no clothes, no makeup, no hair floating on the top of the water, no feet touching the floor, no clenched fists. You have to be completely clean as well, so no dirt is obstructing you from the water.
In essence, a person or thing is immersed in a mikvah to change their/its state from tameh (ritually “impure”) to tahor (ritually “pure”). I use quotes because “pure/impure” aren’t really good translations—they have value judgments that tameh/tahor don’t. There’s nothing wrong with being tameh, you aren’t lesser because you are tameh—it’s just a state one enters when one comes into contact with death and related concepts. (There are also different levels of both.) As a matter of fact, technically speaking even after going to a mikvah basically all people are tameh now—the tum’ah (“impurity,” sort of) that comes from contact with dead humans can only be removed by the Red Heifer offering (see Numbers 19), which we can’t do without the Temple. (Why I say “all” even if you’ve never been to a funeral is a much much longer tangent that I’ll spare you for now.) To quote one of my editors on this, mikvah is “about the natural oscillation between states of ritual purity and impurity. Men go to mikveh after having seminal emissions. Menstruating women go to mikveh on a monthly basis (emphasis added).” It’s just states of life.
In the days of the Temple, one had to be tahor to enter it (the Temple). Archaeologists have found a ton of ancient mikva’ot in Jerusalem that were presumably used by people visiting the Temple, which personally I think is extremely cool.
Nowadays, there are three main traditionally required uses for a mikvah. First, and most importantly, observant married women will go about once a month as part of their niddah (menstrual) cycle, part of practice known as Taharat HaMishpacha, or “Family ‘Purity,’” which at its root is a way to sanctify the relationship between spouses. Until she immerses, a wife and husband cannot resume relations. And not just sex—in some communities, they can’t sleep in the same bed or even have any physical contact at all.
The second use is for conversion—immersion is a central part of the conversion ceremony. One enters the water a gentile, and emerges a Jew.
The third usage is a bit different as it’s not for people. Tableware—plates, cups, etc.—made of certain materials have to be immersed before they can be used. This isn’t what the Guide is about, so I’m not going to go into that as much, but felt remiss if I didn’t mention it was a thing. If you want to know more, Chabad has an article on it here.
Aside from uses required by Jewish law, there is a strong tradition in some communities for men to go to the mikveh just before Yom Kippur, or sometimes every week before the Sabbath, to enter the holiday in as “pure” a state as possible these days. (The things they’re “purifying” from still made them tameh, it just matters less without the Temple.) There is also a strong custom to immerse before one’s wedding. Less traditional communities have also started using mikvah for other transitional moments, such as significant birthdays or remission from cancer. There has recently been an “open mikvah” movement, which “is committed to making mikveh accessible to Jews of all denominations, ages, genders, sexual orientations, and abilities (Rising Tide Network old website, “Why Open Mikvah”).”
To quote others:
No other religious establishment, structure or rite can affect the Jew in this way and, indeed, on such an essential level. —Rebbetzen Rivkah Slonim, Total Immersion, as quoted on Chabad.org
The mikveh is one of the most important parts of a Jewish community. —Kylie Ora Lobell, “What Is a Mikveh?” on Aish.com
How important? According to Rav Moshe Feinstein, one of the great American rabbis of the 20th century, one should build a mikveh before building a synagogue in a town that has neither, and even in a town where there is a mikveh but it’s an inconvenient distance away from the community (Igros Moshe: Choshen Mishpat Chelek 1 Siman 42).
A mikveh is more important than a synagogue.
I’d say that’s pretty important.
Tl;dr: A mikveh is the conduit through which a convert becomes a part of the Jewish people. It is traditionally used to sanctify the relationship between spouses. It was required for people to go to the Temple, back when we still had it. It is extremely central to Jewish practice.
So. What does JVP have to say about it?
THE JVP MIKVEH GUIDE
The document in question is titled “Mikveh: A Purification Ritual for Personal and Collective Transformation,” by Zohar Lev Cunningham and Rebekah Erev. I am largely going to quote directly from the text and then analyze and explain it.
Now let me be clear. I’m not trying to say the authors aren’t Jewish. I’m not saying they’re bad people, or that you should attack them. I am not intending any of this as an ad hominem attack. But given the contents of this document, I do think it is fair to call this appropriative, even if it is of their own culture—in the same way someone can have internalized racism, or twist feminism into being a TERF, I would argue that this is twisting Judaism into paganism. In fact, while I use “appropriation” throughout this document, an extremely useful term that’s been coined recently is “cultural expropriation”--essentially, appropriative actions done by rogue members of the community in question. One example of this would be the Kabbalah Centre in Los Angeles, which is the source of a lot of the Madonna-style “pop Kabbalah.” It was founded by an Orthodox Jewish couple, but it and its followers are widely criticized by most Jewish communities. In much the same way, the Guide is expropriation. 
We start off with a note from the authors.
Hello, Welcome to the Simple Mikveh Guide. This work comes out of many years of reclaiming and re-visioning mikveh. The intention of this guide is to acknowledge and give some context to what mikveh is, provide resources related to mainstream understanding of mikveh and also provide alternative mikveh ideas. Blessings for enjoyment of this wonderful, simple Jewish ritual! Zohar Lev Cunningham & Rebekah Erev
This is fairly normal, though “alternative mikveh ideas” is a bit odd to say. I also find “blessings for enjoyment” to be odd phrasing, somewhat reminiscent of the Wiccan “Blessed Be,” but it could be a typo.
The first main section is titled “Intro to Mikveh,” and begins as follows:
Mikveh is an ancient Jewish ritual practice of water immersion, traditionally used for cleansing, purification, and transformation. It's been conventionally used for conversion to Judaism, for brides, and for niddah, the practice of cleansing after menstruation.
This is relatively accurate, and credit where credit is due avoids making niddah out to be patriarchal BS. I do object slightly to “purify” as a translation without further explanation, as I went into above, and “cleansing” for similar reasons—it implies “dirtiness,’ which isn’t really what tum’ah is about. Also, though this is pretty minor, a bride going to the mikveh before her wedding is actually a part of the laws of niddah. I’d also note that they entirely leave out that it was important for going to the Temple in ancient times, though given this is published by JVP I’m not terribly surprised.
For Jews, water signifies the transformative moment from slavery in Egypt, through the parted Red Sea, and into freedom.
On the one hand, I suppose it’s not unreasonable to connect the Red Sea and mikveh, though I think I’d be more likely to hear it the other way around (i.e. “going through the sea was like the people immersing in a mikveh and being ‘cleansed,’ so to speak”). Though they were, rather importantly, not actually immersed in the water. However I don’t think I’d say water as a whole signifies the Splitting of the Sea. In fact, water imagery is more often used to signify the Torah, see for instance Bava Kamma 82a.
There is also a mystical connection to mikveh as a metaphor for the womb of the divine.
A mikveh being like a womb is also not uncommon. It’s found in the Reishis Chochmah (Shia’ar HaAhavah 11,58) and the writing of Rabbi Aryeh Kaplan (The Aryeh Kaplan Anthology, vol 2., p. 382; both as quoted in 50 Mikvahs That Shaped History, by Rabbi Ephraim Meth), see also “The Mikveh’s Significance in Traditional Conversion” by Rabbi Maurice Lamm on myjewishlearning. Filled with water, you float in it, you emerge a new being (at least for conversion); it’s not an absurd comparison to draw. I’m not sure I’ve found anything for the Womb of the Divine specifically, though. (Also, Divine should definitely be capitalized.)
Entering a mikveh is a transformative and healing experience and we have long wondered why it is not available to more people, including the significant trans and queer populations in Jewish communities.
So. I am NOT going to say there’s no problem with homophobia and/or transphobia in Jewish communities. It’s definitely a community issue, and many communities are grappling with it in various ways as we speak. And I’m certainly not going to say the authors didn’t have the experience of not having a mikveh available to them—I don’t know their lives, I’m not going to police their experiences.
However, while Orthodox mikvahs are often still restricted to married women (who by virtue of the community will generally be cis and married to men) and potentially adult men (given the resources and customs, as mentioned above), there are plenty of more liberal mikva’ot these days. Some even explicitly offer rituals for queer events! The list of reasons to go to the mikvah linked up above, for instance, includes:
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(Mayyim Hayyim, “Immersion Ceremonies”)
Again, that’s not to say there aren’t issues of queerphobia in the Jewish community, but if you are queer and want to go to the mikvah, there are options out there. If you’re looking, I’ve included some links at the end.
When we make ritual, we are working with the divine forces of presence and intention. The magic of mikveh comes in making contact with water. Contact with water marks a threshold and functions as a portal to bring closer our ritual intention/the world to come.
This is…a weird way to put things. I would say this is the start of the red flags. “When we make ritual,” first of all, is, to quote @the-library-alcove (who helped edit this), “a turn of phrase that is not typically associated with any branch of Jewish practice; we have a lot--a LOT--of rituals, and while it's certainly not completely outside of the realm of Jewish vernacular, the tone here, especially in light of the later sections, starts veering towards the vernacular of neo-paganism.” One might say “make kiddush” (the blessing over wine on Shabbos and holidays) or “make motzi” (the blessing over bread), but not generally “make ritual.”
The next section is titled “Who Gets to Do Mikveh?” Their answer:
Everyone! Mikveh practice is available to all of us as a healing tool at any time.
The healing tool part isn’t the original purpose of mikveh, but there are some who have used it as a part of emotional recovery from something traumatic, by marking a new state of being free from whatever caused it, see for instance Mayyim Hayyim’s list linked above.
The “everyone” bit is a little more complicated. To explain why, we’re going to skip ahead a little. (Some of these quotes will also be analyzed in full later.)
We want to make mikveh practice available as a tool to all Jews and non-Jews who want to heal wounds caused by white supremacy and colonialism. [..] To us, a queer mikveh welcomes anyone, regardless of spiritual background or not. […] Queer mikveh is accessible physically and spiritually to any and all people who are curious about it. You don't have to be a practicing Jew to enter queer mikveh. You don't have to be Jewish. (pg. 2, emphasis added)
Now, I am told there are mikva’ot that allow non-Jews to immerse. I have yet to find them, so I don’t know what rituals they allow non-Jews to do. I also haven’t been able to find any resources on non-Jews being allowed to immerse. I have found quite a few that explicitly prohibit it. If there are any sources you know of, please send them to me! I’d love to see them! But so far everything I have come across has said that mikvah immersion is a closed practice that only Jews can participate in. (Technically, to quote the lovely @etz-ashashiot, any non-Jew can do mikvah…once. And they won’t be non-Jews when they emerge. There is also one very extreme edge-case, which is absolutely not mainstream knowledge or practice, and basically isn’t actually done. You can message me if you’re curious, but it’s really not relevant to this–and even in that case, it is preferable to use a natural mikvah rather than a man-made one.)
If there are any legitimate sources that allow non-Jews to do a mikvah ritual, I would assume said non-Jews would be required to be respectful about it. Unfortunately, this is how the paragraph we began with continues:
Who Gets to Do Mikveh? Everyone! Mikveh practice is available to all of us as a healing tool at any time. You don't need any credentials. Your own wisdom is all the power you need to be a Jewish ritual leader. (emphasis added)
This is where we really go off the rails. First of all, you need more than “wisdom” to lead a Jewish ritual. You need to actually know what you’re doing. You can’t just say “oh you know what I feel like the right thing to do for morning prayers is to pray to the sun, because God created the sun so the sun is worth worshiping, and this is a Jewish ritual I’m doing.” That’s just idolatry. Like straight up I stole that from a midrash (oral tradition) about how humanity went from speaking with God in the Garden of Eden to worshiping idols in the time of Noah (given here by Maimonides; note that it continues for a few paragraphs after the one this link sends you to).
Second of all, this is particularly bad given this guide is explicitly to Jews and non-Jews. As @daughter-of-stories put it when she was going over an earlier draft of this analysis, “they are saying that non-Jews can just declare themselves Jewish ritual leaders based on nothing but their own ‘wisdom.’”
I hope I don’t need to explain why that’s extremely bad and gross?
While we’re on the topic of non-Jews using a mikvah, let’s take a moment to address an accusation commonly mentioned alongside the mikvah guide: that JVP also encourages (or encouraged) self-conversion.
I have been unable to find a separate document where they explicitly said so, or an older version of this document that does. This leads me to believe that either a) the accusation came from a misreading of this document, or b) there was a previous document that contained it which has since been deleted but was not archived in the Wayback Machine. EITHER is possible.
Even in the case that there was no such document, however, I would point out that such a suggestion can be read–intentionally or not–as implicit in this document. This is a guide for mikvah use by both Jews and non-Jews, and includes an idea that non-Jews can perform Jewish rituals on their own without any guidance or even background knowledge, as quoted above. Why would a non-Jew, coming into Jewish practice with very little knowledge, go looking to perform a mikvah ritual?
I would wager that the most well-known purpose of immersing in a mikvah is for the purpose of conversion.
Nowhere in this guide is there any explicit statement that you can do a self-conversion, but it also doesn’t say anywhere that you can’t, or that doing so is an exception to “you don’t need any credentials” or “your own wisdom is all the power you need to be a Jewish ritual leader.” It may not be their intention, but the phrasing clearly leaves it as an option.
Even if this were from a source that one otherwise loved, this would be upsetting and disappointing. The amount of exposure this document is getting may be at least in part because it comes from JVP, but the distress and dismay would be there regardless. If there is further vitriol, it’s only because JVP is often considered a legitimate source by outsiders, if no one else–in other words, by the very people least likely to have the background to know that this document isn’t trustworthy. It’s like the difference between your cousin telling you “the Aztecs were abducted by aliens” versus a mainstream news program like Fox reporting it. Both are frustrating and wrong, but one has significantly more potential harm than the other, and therefore is more likely to get widespread criticism (even if you complain about your cousin online).
On the other hand, as one of my editors pointed out in a moment of dark humor, they do say you don’t have to be Jewish to lead a Jewish ritual, so perhaps that mitigates this issue slightly by taking away a motivation to convert in the first place.
Returning to our document:
We do mikvahs in lakes, rivers, bathtubs, showers, outside in the rain, from teacups, and in our imaginations.
At this point the rails are but a distant memory.
In case you’ve forgotten what I said about this at the beginning of this post (and honestly I wouldn’t blame you, we’re on pg. 9 in my draft of this), there are extremely strict rules about what qualifies as a mikvah. Maimonides’s Mishnah Torah, just about the most comprehensive codex of Jewish law, has eleven chapters on the topic of the mikvah (though that includes immersion in it as well as construction of it). I’m not going to make you read through it, but let’s go through the list in this sentence:
Lakes and rivers: you might be able to use a river or lake as a mikvah, but you need to check with your local rabbinical authority, because not all of them qualify. In general, the waters must gather together naturally, from an underground spring or rainwater. In the latter case, the waters must be stationary rather than flowing. A river that dries up in a drought can’t be used, for instance. (The ocean counts as a spring, for this purpose.)
Bathtubs and showers: No. A man-made mikveh must be built into the ground or as an essential part of a building, unlike most bathtubs, and contain of a minimum of 200 gallons of rainwater, gathered and siphoned in a very particular way so as not to let it legally become “groundwater.” Also, it needs to be something you can immerse in, which a shower is not.
Outside in the rain: No? How would you even do that?? What??
Teacups: Even if you were Thumblina or K’tonton (Jewish Tom Thumb), and could actually immerse your entire body in a teacup, it wouldn’t be a kosher mikvah as a mivkah can’t be portable.
In your imagination: Obviously not, what the heck are you even talking about
We will (unfortunately) be coming back to the teacup thing, but for now suffice it to say most of these are extremely Not A Thing.
Mikveh has been continually practiced since ancient Judaism. It is an offering of unbroken Jewish lineage that we have claimed/reclaimed as our own.
I find the use of “claimed/reclaimed” fascinating here, given this guide is explicitly for non-Jews—who, whether or not they are permitted to use a mikvah, certainly shouldn’t be claiming it as their own—as well as Jews. I find it particularly interesting given the lack of clarity of how much of JVP’s membership is actually Jewish and JVP’s history of encouraging non-Jewish members to post “as Jews.” Kind of telling on yourselves a bit, there.
(Once again, I’m not commenting on the authors themselves, but the organization they represent here and the audience they are speaking to/for.)
We want to make mikveh practice available as a tool to all Jews and non-Jews who want to heal wounds caused by white supremacy and colonialism. We want to make mikveh practice available for healing our bodies, spirits, and the earth.
Setting aside the “Jews and non-Jews” thing, since I talked about that earlier and this is already extremely long, I do want to highlight the end of the paragraph. While there are some modern uses of the mikvah to (sort of) heal the spirit, I haven’t heard of anyone using a mikvah to heal the body—as a general rule Jews don’t tend to do faith healing, though of course some sects are the exception. Healing the earth, however, is absolutely not a use of a mikvah. Mikvah rituals, as we’ve now mentioned several times, are about tahara of a person or an object, and require immersion. You can’t immerse the earth in a mikvah. The earth contains mikva’ot. Healing the earth with a mikvah is a very strange worship (IYKYK).
We acknowledge that not all beings have consistent access to water, including Palestinians.
This is a tragedy, no question. I don't mean to minimize that. However, it is also unrelated to the matter at hand. The Guide also doesn’t give any recommendations on how we can help improve water access, so this lip service is all you get.
A lack of water does not make mikveh practice inaccessible.
Yes, in fact, it does. Without a kosher mikvah of one variety or another one cannot do anything that requires a mikvah. That’s why building a kosher one is so important. I haven’t gone looking for it, but while I’m sure there’s lots (and lots and lots and lots) of Rabbinic responsa out there of what to do in drought situations, you definitely do need water in all but the most extreme cases. If you do not have water, AYLR (Ask Your Local Rabbi)--don’t do whatever this is.
The spirit of water can be present with us if we choose to call for water, so even when water is not physically available to us we can engage in mikveh practice.
This is just straight up avodah zarah (“strange worship,” i.e. idolatry) as far as I can tell. The “spirit of the water”? What? We’re not Babylonians worshiping Tiamat. What source is there for this? Is there a source??
Like all material resources, the ways water is or is not available to us is shaped by our geographic and social locations. The ways we relate to water, what we decide is clean, treyf (dirty), drinkable, bathable, how much we use, how much we save, varies depending on our experiences. We invite you to decide what is clean and holy for your own body and spiritual practice.
This is going to require some breaking down.
To start with, let’s define “treyf.” To quote myjewishlearning, “Treyf (sometimes spelled treif or treyfe) is a Yiddish word used for something that is not kosher [lit. "fit"]. The word treyf is derived from the Hebrew word treifah, which appears several times in the Bible and means 'flesh torn by beasts.' The Torah prohibits eating flesh torn by beasts, and so the word treifah came to stand in for all forbidden foods.”
You may note the lack of the word “dirty” in this definition, or any other value judgments. Myjewishlearning continues, “over time, the words kosher and treyf have been used colloquially beyond the world of food to describe anything that Jews deem fit or unfit.” While this does have something of a value judgment, it’s still not “dirty.” I can’t say why the authors chose to translate the word this way, but…I don’t like it.
Now, when it comes to what is kosher or treyf, food and drink are most certainly not based on “our experiences.” There are entire books on the rules of kashrut; it generally takes years of study to understand all the minutiae. Even as someone who was raised in a kosher household, when I worked as a mashgicha (kosher certification inspector) I needed special training. What is considered kadosh (“sacred” or “holy,”  though again that’s not a perfect translation) or tahor is also determined by very strict rules. We don’t just decide things based on “vibes.” That’s not how anything in Jewish practice works.
Water, in fact, is always kosher to drink unless it has bugs or something else treyf in it. And mikvehs aren’t even always what I’d consider “drinkable;” I always wash utensils I’ve brought to the mikvah before I use them.
We come to our next heading: What is Queer Mikveh?
What is Queer Mikveh? To us, a queer mikveh welcomes anyone, regardless of spiritual background or not.
As I’ve said above, I have yet to find a single source (seriously if you have one please send it to me) that says non-Jews can go to a mikvah. As one of my editors for this put it, “to spin appropriation of Jewish closed practices as ‘queer’ is not only icky but deeply disrespectful to actual queer Jews.”
Also, and this is not remotely the point, but “regardless of spiritual background or not” is almost incoherently poor writing.
As Jews in diaspora we want to share and use our ritual practices for healing the land and waters we are visitors on for the liberation of all beings.
I have tried to be semi-professional about this analysis, but. “Jews in the diaspora,” you say. Tell me, JVP, where are we in the diaspora from? Hm? Where are we in diaspora from? Which land do we come from? Which land are we indigenous to, JVP? Do tell.
Returning to the point, I would repeat that mikvah has nothing to do with “healing the land and waters.” It’s ritual purification of whatever is immersed in it. You want to heal the land and waters? Go to your local environmental group, and/or whoever maintains your local land and waters. Pick up trash. Start recycling. Weed invasive species. Call your government and tell them to support green energy. You want liberation for all beings? Fight bigotry—including antisemitism. Judaism believes in action—go act. Appropriating rituals from a closed religion doesn’t liberate anyone.
We have come up with this working definition and welcome feedback!
Oh good, maybe I won’t be yelled at for posting this (she said dubiously).
Queer mikveh is a ritual of Jews in diaspora. We believe the way we work for freedom for all beings is by using the gifts of our ancestors for the greatest good. We bring our rituals as gifts.
I have nothing in particular new to say about this, except that I find the idea of “bringing our rituals as gifts” for anyone to use deeply uncomfortable, given Judaism is a closed religion that strongly discourages non-Jews from joining us, and that has had literal millennia of people appropriating from us.
It acknowledges that our path is to live on lands that are not historically our peoples [sic] and we honor the Indigenous ancestors of the land we live on, doing mikveh as an anti-colonialist ritual for collective and personal liberation.
Again I would love so much for JVP to tell us which lands would historically be our people’s. What land do Jews come from, JVP? What land is it we do have a historical connection to? What land do our Indigenous ancestors come from??
And why does it have to be our path to live on lands other than that one?
Secondly, to quote the lovely @daughter-of-stories again when she was editing this, “Mikveh as anti-colonialism, aside from not being what Mikveh is, kinda implies that you can cleanse the land of the sins of colonialism. So (a) that’s just a weird bastardization of baptism since, mikveh isn’t about cleansing from sin, and (b) so does that mean the colonialism is erased? Now we don’t have to actually deal with how it affects actual indigenous people?”
I’m sure that (b) isn’t their intent, but I will say that once again they don’t give any material suggestions for how to actually liberate any collectives or persons from colonialism in this document, including any links to other pages on their own website*, which surely would have been easy enough. It comes across as very performative.
*I disagree strongly with most of their methods, but at least they are suggesting something.
Queer mikveh is a physical or spiritual space that uses the technologies of water and the Jewish practice of mikveh to mark transitions. Transition to be interpreted by individuals and individual ritual.
I have no idea what the “technologies of water” are. Also usage of a mikvah to mark transitions beyond ritual states is a fairly new innovation, as mentioned above.
Queer mikveh in it's [sic] essence honors the story of the water. The historical stories of the water we immerse in, the stories of our own bodies as water and the future story we vision [sic].
This just sounds like a pagan spinoff of baptism to me, if I’m being honest. Which would be non-Jewish in several ways.
Queer mikveh is accessible physically and spiritually to any and all people who are curious about it. You don't have to be a practicing Jew to enter queer mikveh. You don't have to be Jewish.
First off, once again whether or not non-Jews can use mikvah seems at best extremely iffy. Secondly, accessibility in mikva’ot is, as one of my editors put it, “a continual discussion.” We have records of discussions regarding access for those with physical disabilities going back at least to the 15th century (Shut Mahari Bruna, 106; as quoted in 50 Mikvahs That Shaped History by Rabbi Ephraim Meth), and in the modern era there are mikva’ot that have lifts or other accessibility aids. That said, many mikva’ot, especially older ones, are still not accessible–and many mikva’ot don’t have the money to retrofit or renovate. Mikvah.org’s directory listings (linked at the end of this) notes whether various mikva’ot are accessible, if you are looking for one in your area.  If you want to help make mikva’ot more accessible to the disabled, consider donating to an existing mikvah to help them pay for renovations or otherwise (respectfully) getting involved in the community. If you want to help make mikva’ot more accessible for non-Orthodox Jews, try donating to an open mikvah (see link to a map of Rising Tide members at the end of this essay) or other non-Orthodox mikvah.
Queer mikveh is an earth and water honoring ritual.
Not even a little. We do have (or had) rituals that honor the earth or water, at least to an extent–the Simchat Beit HaSho’evah (explanations here and here) was a celebration surrounding water; most of our holidays are harvest festivals to some extent or another; there are a large number of agricultural mitzvahs (though most can only be done in Israel, which I suppose wouldn’t work for JVP). (Note: mitzvahs are commandments and/or good deeds.) Even those, though, aren’t about the water or earth on their own, per se, but rather about honoring them as God’s gift to us. This description of mikvah sounds more Pagan or Wiccan–which is fine, but isn’t Jewish.
Queer mikveh exists whenever a queer person or queers gather to do mikveh. Every person is their own spiritual authority and has the power to create their own ritual for individual or collective healing.
Absolutely, anyone can create their own rituals for anything they want. But it probably won’t be a mikvah ritual, and it probably won’t be Jewish.
Do you know what it’s called when you make up your own ritual and claim that it’s actually a completely valid part of an established closed practice of which you aren’t part? (Remember—this document is aimed just as much at non-Jews as at Jews.)
It’s called appropriation.
With the next section, “Some Ideas for Mikveh Preparation,” we begin page three.
(Yes, we’re only on page three of seven. I’m so sorry.)
The most important part of mikveh preparation is setting an intention.
This isn’t entirely wrong, as you do have to have in mind the intention of fulfilling a mitzvah when you perform one.
Because mikveh is a ritual most used to mark transitions, you can frame your intention in that way.
To quote myself above, “usage of a mikvah to mark transitions beyond ritual states is a fairly new innovation.” I’d hardly say it is mostly used for marking transitions.
You can do journaling or talk with friends to connect with the Jewish month, Jewish holiday, Shabbat, the moon phase, and elements of the season that would support your intention.
If this were a guide for only Jews, or there was some sort of note saying this section was only for Jews, I would have less of a problem. But given neither is true, they are encouraging non-Jews to use the Jewish calendar for what is, from the rest of the descriptions in the Guide, a magical earth healing ritual.
This is 100% straight up appropriation.
The Jewish calendar is Jewish. Marking the new moon and creating a calendar was the first commandment given to us as a people, upon the exodus from Egypt. Nearly all our holidays are (aside from the harvest component, which is based on the Israeli agricultural seasons and required harvest offerings) based on specific parts of Jewish history. Passover celebrates the Exodus and our becoming a nation. Sukkot celebrates the Clouds of Glory that protected us in the desert. Shavuot celebrates being given the Torah.
According to some opinions, non-Jews literally aren’t allowed to keep Shabbat.
If you are a non-Jew and you are basing the collective earth healing ritual you have created under your own spiritual authority around Jewish holidays and calling it “mikvah,” you are appropriating Judaism.
Full stop.
This isn’t even taking into account the generally Pagan/witchy feel of the paragraph, with “moon phases” and “elements of the season.” Again, if you want to be a Pagan be a Pagan, but don’t call it Jewish.
Things only go further downhill with their next suggestion for preparation before you go to the mikvah.
Divination: A lot can be said about divination practices and Judaism.
There certainly is a lot to be said. First and foremost, there’s the fact that divination is forbidden in Judaism.
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(Screenshot of Leviticus 19:26 from sefaria.org)
One method of divination they suggest is Tarot, which is a European method of cartomancy that seems to have begun somewhere in the 19th century, though the cards start showing up around the 15th. While early occultists tried to tie it to various older forms of mysticism, including Kabbalah, this was, to put it lightly, complete nonsense. (Disclaimer: this information comes from wikipedia; I’ve already spent so much time researching the mikvah stuff that I do not have the energy or interest to do a deep dive into the origin of Tarot. It isn’t Jewish, the rest is honestly just details.)
I have nothing against Tarot. I think it’s neat! The cards are often lovely! I have a couple of decks myself, and I use them for fun and card games. But divination via tarot is not Jewish. If I do any spreads, I make it very clear to anyone I’m doing it with that it is for fun and/or as a self-reflection tool, not as magic. Because that is extremely not allowed in Judaism.
The authors suggest a few decks to use, one of which is by one of the authors themselves. Another is “The Kabbalah Deck,” which—holy appropriation, Batman!
In case anyone is unaware, Kabbalah (Jewish mysticism) is an extremely closed Jewish practice, even within Judaism. Traditionally it shouldn’t be studied by anyone who hasn’t already studied every other Jewish text (of which there are, I remind you, a lot), because it’s so easy to misinterpret. I mentioned this above briefly when explaining cultural expropriation. Pop Kabbalah (what Madonna does, what you see when they talk about “Ancient Kabbalistic Texts” on shows like Supernatural, the nonsense occultists and New-Agers like to say is “ancient Kabbalistic” whatever, it’s a wide span of appropriative BS) is gross, combining Kabbalah with Tarot is extremely gross. I’m not 100% sure, as the link in the pdf doesn’t work, but I believe they are referring to this deck by Edward Hoffman. For those of you who don’t want to click through, the Amazon description includes this:
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(Screenshot from Amazon)
Returning to our text:
Another practice that's been used in Judaism for centuries is bibliomancy. You can use a book you find meaningful (or the Torah) and ask a question. Then, close your eyes, open the book to a page and place your finger down. Interpret the word or sentence you pointed at to help guide you to answer your question.
Bibliomancy with a chumash (Pentateuch) or tanach (Bible) in Jewish magic is kind of a thing, but the tradition of Jewish magic as a whole is very complicated and could be its own entirely different post. This one is already long enough. This usage of bibliomancy is clearly just appropriative new-age BS, though, especially given you can use “[any] book you find meaningful.”
Also, if you aren’t Jewish, please don’t use the Torah for ritual purposes unless you are doing it under very specific circumstances under the laws for B’nei Noach (“Children of Noah,” also called Righteous Gentiles; non-Jews who follow the 7 Noachide Laws).
Sit with your general intention or if you aren't sure, pose a question to the divination tool you are using. "What should be my intention for this mikveh?" "What needs transforming in my life?" "How can I transform my relationship with my body?"
As I hope I’ve made clear, there are very specific times when one uses a mikvah, even with more modern Open Mikvah rituals. You always know what your intention is well before going—to make yourself tahor, or mark a specific event. I’m not here to police how someone prepares mentally before they immerse—meditation is fine, even encouraged. But magic? Like this? That’s not a thing. And given the fact that divination specifically is not only discouraged but forbidden, this section in particular upset a lot of Jews who read it.
Those of us already upset by everything we’ve already covered were not comforted by how the Guide continues.
How to Prepare Physically For Mikveh: Some people like to think about entering the mikveh in the way their body was when they were born. By this we mean naked, without jewelry, with clean fingernails and brushed hair. This framing can be meaningful for many people.
We went into this at the beginning of this essay (about 6500 words ago), but this is in fact how Jewish law mandates one is required to immerse. This is certainly the case in most communities, whether you are immersing due to an obligation (as a married woman or a bride about to be married) or due to custom (as men in post-Temple practice) or due to non-traditional immersion (as someone coming out); wherever on the spectrum of observance one falls (as far as I could find). A mikvah isn’t a bath, it’s not about physical cleanliness—you must first thoroughly clean yourself, clip your nails, and brush your teeth. Nail polish and makeup are removed. There can’t be any barriers between you and the water. Most mikva’ot these days, particularly women’s mikva’ot, have preparation rooms so you can prep on site. When you immerse, you have to submerge completely—your hair can’t be floating above the water, your mouth can’t be pursed tightly, your hands can’t be clenched so the water can’t get to your palms. If you do it wrong, it doesn’t count and you have to do it again. It’s not a “framing,” it’s a ritual practice governed by ritual law.
We suggest you do mikveh in the way you feel comfortable for you and your experience.
This isn’t how this works. If you have a particularly extreme case, you can talk to a rabbi to see if there are any workarounds—for example, if excessive embarrassment would distract you from the ritual, you may be able to wear clothes that are loose enough that the water still makes contact with every millimeter of skin. But you need to consult with someone who knows the minutiae of the laws and requirements so you know if any exceptions or workarounds apply to you. That’s what a rabbi is for. That’s why they need to go to rabbinical school and get ordination. They have to study. That’s why you need to find a rabbi whose knowledge and personality you trust. For someone calling themselves a religious authority in Judaism to say “you can do whatever, no biggie” with such a critical ritual is…I’m not sure what the word I want is.
The idea is to feel vulnerable but also to claim your body as a powerful site of change that has the power to move us close to our now unrecognizable futures.
The idea is to bathe in the living waters and enter a state of taharah. Though that could be an idea you have in mind while you are doing it, I suppose. I could see at least one writer I know of saying something like this to specifically menstrual married (presumably cis) women performing Taharat HaMishpacha (family taharah, see above).
For some people, doing mikveh in drag will feel most vulnerable, with all your make-up and best attire.
Absolutely not a thing. As I said last paragraph, the goal isn’t to feel vulnerable or powerful or anything. It may feel vulnerable or powerful, but that is entirely besides the actual purpose of the ritual. What you get out of it on a personal emotional level has nothing to do with the religious goal of the religious practice.
And if you are wondering how one would submerge oneself in water in full drag, don’t worry, we’ll get there soon.
For some, wearing a cloth around your body until just before you dip is meaningful.
This is just how it’s usually done. Generally one is provided with a bathrobe, and one removes it before entering. You don’t just wander around the building naked. Or the beach, if you’re using the ocean.
If you were born intersex and your genitalia was changed without your consent, thinking about your body as perfect, however you were born, can be loving.
I’m not intersex, so I’m not going to comment on the specifics here. If you are and that’s meaningful to you, more power to you.
We enter a new section, at the top of page 4.
Where To Do Mikveh: There is much midrash around what constitutes a mikveh.
“Midrash” is not the word they want here. The midrash is the non-legal side of the oral tradition, often taking the form of allegory or parable. This is as opposed to the mishna, which is the halachic (legal) side of the oral tradition. They were both written down around the same time, but most midrashim (plural) are in their own books, rather than incorporated in the mishna.
There is, however, a great deal of rabbinic discussion, in the form of mishna, gemara, teshuvot (responsa), legal codices, and various other genres of Jewish writing. More properly this could have just said “there is much discussion around what constitutes a mikveh.”
Most mikvot currently exist in Orthodox synagogues[—]
This is perhaps a minor quibble, but I don’t know that I’d say they’re generally in synagogues. They are frequently associated with a local congregation, but are often in a separate building.
[—]but there is a growing movement to create more diverse and inclusive spaces for mikveh. Mayyim Hayyim is a wonderful resource with a physical body of water mikveh space. Immerse NYC is a newer organization training people of all genders to be mikveh guides. They also work to find gender inclusive spaces for people to do mikveh in NYC.
This is true! Mayyim Hayyim is a wonderful organization I’ve never heard anything bad about, and ImmerseNYC also seems like an excellent organization. Both also only allow Jews (in which group I am including in-process converts) to immerse.
The mikveh guides thing I didn’t explain above, so I’ll take a moment to do so here. Because the rules of immersion are so strict, and because it’s hard to tell if you are completely immersed when you are underwater, most mikva’ot have a guide helping you. Depending on the circumstance and the mikvah, and depending on the patron’s comfort, who and how they do their jobs can differ somewhat. For a woman immersing after niddah, it will usually be another woman who will hold up the towel or bathrobe for you while you get in the water, and will only look from behind it once you are immersed to make sure you are completely submerged. If you are converting, customs vary. Some communities require men to witness the immersion regardless of the convert’s gender, which is very much an ongoing discussion in those communities. Even in those cases, to my knowledge they will only look once the convert is in the water, and there will likely still be a female attendant if the convert is a woman. While there are negative experiences people have had, it is very much an intra-community issue. We’re working on it.
Mikveh can be done in a natural body of water.
Again, this is true, though not all bodies of water work, so AYLR (Ask Your Local Rabbi).
Some people are also making swimming pools holy places of mikveh.
We’ve already explained above why this is nonsense.
In the Mishneh (the book that makes commentary on the torah [sic]) there are arguments as to what constitutes a mikveh and how much water from a spring or well or rainwater must be present.
The main issue in this section is their definition of the Mishneh. As I explained above, the Mishna (same thing, transliteration is not an exact science) is the major compilation of the Oral Torah, the oral tradition that was written down by Rabbi Judah Ha-Nasi so it wouldn’t be lost in the face of exile and assimilation. It’s not so much a commentary on the (Written) Torah as an expansion of it to extrapolate the religious laws we follow. It’s certainly not “the book that makes commentary on the Torah.” We have literally hundreds of books of commentary. That’s probably underestimating. Jews have been around for a long time, and we have been analyzing and discussing the Torah for nearly as long. There are so many commentaries on the Torah.
The second issue is that while there are arguments in the Mishna and Gemara (the oral discussion on the Mishna that was written down even later), they do generally result in a final decision of some sort. Usually whichever side has the majority wins. Variations between communities are still very much a thing, and I can explain why in another post if people are interested, but there usually is a base agreement.
We are of the school that says you decide for yourself what works.
The phrasing they use here makes it sound as though that’s a legitimate opinion in the Mishnah. I cannot emphasize how much that is not the case. While I myself have not finished learning the entire Mishnah, I would be willing to wager a great deal that “whatever works for you” isn’t a stance on any legal matter there. That’s just not how it works. While some modern branches of Judaism may have that as a position, it is definitely not Mishnaic.
If you are concerned about Jewish law, the ocean is always a good choice. There are no conflicting arguments about the ocean as a mikveh. As the wise maggid Jhos Singer says in reference to the ocean, "It's [sic] becomes a mikveh when we call it a mikveh." Done.
(To clarify, I don’t know if that typo was carried over from the source of the original quote or not.)
This is true. However if you are concerned about Jewish law I would very much urge you to look to other sources than this one—be that your local rabbi or rebbetzen, the staff at your local mikvah, or a reliable website that actually goes into the proper requirements. If you want to use a mikveh according to Jewish law, please do not use this document as your guide.
We recognize immersion in water does not work for every body. Therefore, a guiding principle for where to do a mikveh is: do a mikveh in a place that is sacred to you. Your body is always holy and your body is made of mostly water. Later in this guide there is more information on mikveh with no immersion required.
I cannot emphasize how much I have never once heard this before. This, to me, reads like New Age nonsense. If you are unable to immerse in a mikvah, talk to your rabbi. Don’t do…whatever this is.
Our next section is a short one.
Who To Do it With: Do mikveh with people you feel comfortable with and supported by.
This is fine, though many mikva’ot (perhaps even most) will only allow one person to immerse at a time.
Do a solo mikveh and ask the earth body to be your witness.
With this, we return to the strange smattering of neo-Paganism. The “earth body” is not a thing. Yes, the Earth is called as a witness in the Bible at least once. It’s poetic. You also, unless you are converting, don’t actually need a witness anyway. A mikvah attendant or guide is there to help you—if you were somewhere without one, you could still immerse for niddah or various customary purposes.
Do mikveh with people who share some of your vision for collective healing.
As I’ve said before in this essay, collective healing is not the point of a mikvah. If you are Jewish and want to pray for healing, there are plenty of legitimate places for this–the Shemonah Esrei has a prayer for healing and a prayer where you can insert any personal prayers you want; there’s a communal prayer for healing after the Torah reading. You can give charity or recite a psalm or do a mitzvah with the person in mind. You can also just do a personal private prayer with any words you like, a la Hannah, or if you want pre-written words find an appropriate techinah (not the sesame stuff). If you want to work towards collective liberation, volunteer. Learn the laws of interpersonal mitzvot, like lashon hara (literally “evil speech,” mostly gossip or libel). Connect fighting oppression to loving your neighbor or the Passover seder. We have tons of places for this–mikvah isn’t one of them.
Next segment.
What To Bring to A Mikveh: 1. Intentions for the ritual for yourself and/or the collective.
See previous points on intention.
2. Items for the altar from your cultural background[…] (emphasis mine)
If I wasn’t appalled by the “immersing in makeup” or the “do divination first,” this would be the place that got me. This is wrong on so many levels.
One is not allowed to have an altar outside of The Temple in Jerusalem, the one we currently do not have. It’s an extremely big deal. One is not allowed to make sacrifices outside of the Temple. Period. This is emphasized again and again in the Torah and other texts. Even when we had a Temple, there were no altars in a mikvah.
And you certainly couldn’t offer anything in the Temple while naked, as one is required to be when immersing in the mikvah.
Even when we did bring offerings to altars (the Bronze Altar or the Gold Altar, both of which were in the Temple and which only qualified priests in a state of tahara could perform offerings on), the offerings were very specifically mandated, as per the Torah and those other texts. Even when non-Jews gave offerings (as did happen) they were required to comply. You couldn’t just bring any item from your cultural background. This is paganism, plain and simple.
Now, again, let me be clear: if you’re pagan, I have no problem with you. My problem is when one tries to take a sacred practice from a closed religion and try to co-opt it as one’s own. It’s a problem when someone who isn’t Native American decides to smudge their room with white sage, and it’s a problem when someone who isn’t Jewish tries to turn a mikvah into a pagan cleansing rite. And even if the person doing it is Jewish--I have an issue when it’s Messianics who were born Jewish, and I have an issue when it’s pagans who were born the same. Either way, whether you intend to or not, you are participating in appropriation or expropriation.
Which makes the line that follows this point so deeply ironic I can’t decide if I’m furious or heartbroken.
After suggesting that the reader (who may or may not be Jewish) bring items for an altar to a mikvah, the Guide asks:
[…] (please do not bring appropriated items from cultures that are not yours).
Which is simply just... beyond parody. To quote one of my editors, “This is quickly approaching the level of being a new definition for the Yiddish word 'Chutzpah,' which is traditionally defined as 'absurdist audacity' in line with 'Chutzpah is a man who brutally murders both of his parents and then pleads with the judge for leniency because he is now an orphan bereft of parental guidance.' If not for the involved nature of explaining the full context, I would submit this as a potential new illustrative example.”
The next suggestion of what to bring is
3. Warm clothes, towels, warm drinks
All these are reasonable enough, though most mikva’ot provide towels. Some also provide snacks, for while you are preparing. They may also not allow you to bring in outside food.
4. Your spirit of love, healing, and resistance
This, again, has nothing to do with mikvah. The only spirit of resistance in a mikvah is the fact that we continue to do it despite millennia of attempts to stop us. Additionally, to me at least “a spirit of love” feels very culturally-Christian.
Our next section is titled “How to Make Mikveh a Non-Zionist Ritual.”
Right off the bat, I have an issue with this concept. Putting aside for a moment whatever one may think of Zionism as a philosophy, my main problem here is that mikvah has nothing at all to do with Zionism. In Orthodoxy, at least, Jews who are against Zionism on religious grounds perform the mitzvah the same way passionately Zionist Jews do, with the same meanings and intentions behind it. It is performed the same way in Israel and out, and has been more or less the same for the last several thousand years. It is about ritual purification and sanctification of the mundane, no more and no less.
There is a word for saying anything and everything Jewish is actually about the modern Israel/Palestine conflict, simply because it’s Jewish.
That word is antisemitism.
How to Make Mikveh a Non-Zionist Ritual: Reject all colonial projects by learning about, naming & honoring, and materially supporting the communities indigenous to the land where you hold your mikveh. Name and thank the Indigenous people of the land you are going to do your mikveh on.
If you removed the “non-Zionist” description, this would be mostly unobjectionable. We should absolutely help indigenous communities. The framing of “reject all colonial projects” does seem to suggest that there is something colonial about the usual practice of going to the mikvah, though. I would argue that the mikvah is, in fact, anti-colonial if anything—it is the practice of a consistently oppressed minority ethno-religion which has kept it in practice despite the best efforts of multiple empires. Additionally, while Zionism means many different things to those who believe in it, at its root most Zionists (myself included) define it as “the belief that Jews have a right to self-determination in our indigenous homeland.” Our indigenous homeland being, of course, the land of Israel. (This is different from the State of Israel, which is the modern country on that land.) If you are a Jew in Israel, one of the indigenous peoples of the land your mikvah is on is your own. That’s not to say there aren’t others—but to claim Jews aren’t indigenous to the region is to be either misinformed or disingenuous.
Take the time to vision [sic] our world to come in which Palestine and all people are free.
I really, really dislike how they use the concept of The World To Come here. The Jewish idea of The World To Come (AKA the Messianic Age) is one where the Messiah has come, the Temple has been rebuilt, and the Davidic dynastic monarchy has been re-established in the land of Israel. Arguably that’s the most Zionist vision imaginable. This isn’t to say that all people, Palestinians included, won’t be free—true peace and harmony are also generally accepted features of the Messianic Age. But using the phrase in making something “non-Zionist” is, at the very least, in extremely poor taste. (As a side note, even religious non-Zionists believe in this–that’s actually why most of them are against the State of Israel, as they believe we can’t have sovereignty until the Messiah comes. They do generally believe we will eventually have sovereignty, just that now isn’t the time for it.)
Hold and explore this vision intimately as you prepare to immerse. What is one action you can take to bring this future world closer? Trust that your vision is collaborating with countless others doing this work.
Having a “vision” of a world where all are free isn’t doing any of the work to accomplish it. A “vision” can’t collaborate. At least not in Judaism. This sounds like one is trying to manifest the change through force of will, which is something directly out of the New Age faith movement, where it is known as “Creative Visualization.” Even when we do have a concept of bringing about something positive through an unrelated action–like saying psalms for someone who is sick–the idea is that you are doing a mitzvah on their behalf, to add to their merits counted in their favor. It’s not a form of magic or invocation of some mystical energy.
(Once again: I have nothing against pagans. But paganism is incompatible with Judaism. You can’t be both, any more than you can be Jewish and Christian.)
Use mikveh practice to ground into your contribution to the abundant work for liberation being done. We are many.
If you will once more pardon a brief switch to a casual tone:
Nothing says liberation like *checks notes* appropriating a minority cultural practice.
The next section of their document is titled “Ideas for Mikveh Ritual,” and this is where the Neo-Pagan and New Age influences of the authors truly shift from the background to the foreground.  
We start off deceptively reasonably.
Mikveh ritual is potentially very simple. Generally people consider a mikveh to be a full immersion in water, where you are floating in the water, not touching the bottom, with no part of the body above the surface (including the hair).
Technically, most people consider a mikveh to be a ritual bath (noun) in which one performs various Jewish ritual immersions. But if we set this aside as a typo, this is…fairly true. What they are describing is how one is supposed to perform the mitzvah of mikveh immersion. However, in much the same way I wouldn’t say “generally people consider baseball to be a game where you hit a ball with a bat and run around a diamond,” I wouldn’t say it’s a case of “generally people consider” so much as “this is what it is.”
This works for some people. It doesn't work for everyone and it doesn't work for all bodies. Because of this, mikveh ritual can be expanded outside of these traditional confines in exciting, creative ways.
Once again, if you are incapable of performing mikvah immersion in the proper manner, please go speak with a rabbi. Please do not follow this guide.
Before we continue, I would just like to assure you that. whatever “exciting, creative ways” you might be imagining the authors have come up with, this is so much worse.
Method One:
Sound Mikveh: One way that's felt very meaningful for many is a "sound mikveh." This can be a group of people toning, harmonizing, or chanting in a circle. One person at a time can be in the center of the circle and feel the vibrations of healing sound wash over their body. Another method of sound mikveh is to use a shofar or other instrument of your lineage to made [sic] sounds that reach a body of water and also wash over you.
This makes me so uncomfortable I barely have the words to describe it, and I know that I am not alone in this. This is not a mikvah. If someone wants to do some sort of sound-based healing ritual, by all means go ahead, but do not call it a mikvah. This is not Jewish. I don’t know what this is, aside from deeply offensive.
And leave that poor shofar out of this. That ram did not give his horn for this nonsense.
(I could go on about the actual sacred purpose of a shofar and all the rules and reasons behind it that expand upon this, but this is already over 9000 words.)
Method Two is, if anything, worse. This is the one, if you’ve seen social media posts about this topic, you have most likely seen people going nuts about.
Tea Cup Mikveh: Fill a special teacup. If you want, add flower essence, a small stone, or other special elements. Sing the teacup a sweet song, dance around it, cry in some tears, tell the cup a tender and hopeful story, hold the teacup above the body of your animal friend for extra blessing, balance it on your head to call in your highest self. Use the holy contents of this teacup to make contact with water.
This is absolutely 100% straight-up neo-pagan/New Age mysticism. Nothing about this is based on Jewish practice of any kind. Again, I’m at a loss for words of how to explain just how antithetical this is. If you want to be a witch, go ahead and be a witch. But do not call it Jewish. Leave Judaism out of this.
They end this suggestion with the cute comment,
Mikveh to go. We’ve always been people on the move.
Let me explain why this “fun” little comment fills me with rage. 
As you may recall, this document was published by Jewish Voice for Peace. Among their various other acts of promoting and justifying antisemitism, JVP has repeatedly engaged in historical revisionism regarding Jews and Jewish history. In this context, they have repeatedly ignored the numerous expulsions of Jews from various countries, and blaming sinister Zionist plots to explain any movement of expelled Jews to Israel (“In the early 1950s, starting two years after the Nakba, the Israeli government facilitated a mass immigration of Mizrahim,” from “Our Approach to Zionism” on the JVP website; see @is-the-thing-actually-jewish’s post on JVP and the posts linked from there).
So a document published by JVP framing Jewish movement as some form of free spirited 1970s-esque Bohemian lifestyle or the result of us being busy movers-and-shakers is a direct slap in the face to the persecution we’ve faced as a people and society.  No, we aren’t “on the move” because we’re hippies wandering where the wind takes us . We’re always on the move because we keep getting kicked out and/or hate-crimed until we leave.
But there is no Jew-hatred in Ba Sing Se.
Method three:
Fermentation Mikveh: Some food goes through natural changes by being immersed in water. If we eat that food, we can symbolically go through a change similar to the one the food went through.
Again, this has no basis anywhere in halacha. We do have concepts of “you are what you eat,” specifically with reference to what animals and birds are kosher, but there isn’t any food that makes you tahor if you eat it. In the Temple days there were, in fact, foods you couldn’t eat unless you were tahor.
Jews may like pickles, but that doesn’t mean we think they purify you.
Also, the change from fermentation is, if anything, the opposite of the change we would want. Leavening (rising in dough or batter, due to the fermentation of yeast) is compared in rabbinic writings to arrogance and ego, as opposed to the humility of matza, the “poor man’s bread” (see here, for example). Is the suggestion here to become more egotistical?
As we wrap up this section, I’d like to go back to their stated reason for using these “alternative” methods (“It doesn't work for everyone and it doesn't work for all bodies”), and ask: if these really were the only options for immersion, would these really fill that same spiritual need/niche? These obviously aren’t aimed at me, but from my perspective it seems almost condescending, almost worse. “You can’t do the real thing, so we’ll make up something to make you feel better.” If any of them had an actual basis in Jewish practice, that would be one thing, but this just feels…fake, to me. Even within more liberal / less traditional streams of Judaism, there is a connection to halacha: 
“We each (if we are knowledgeable about the tradition, if we confront it seriously and take its claims and its wisdom seriously) have the ability, the freedom, indeed the responsibility to come to a [potentially differing] personal understanding of what God wants us to do… [Halacha] is a record of how our people, in widely differing times, places and societal circumstances, experienced God's presence in their lives, and responded. Each aspect of halacha is a possible gateway to experience of the holy, the spiritual. Each aspect worked for some Jews, once upon a time, somewhere in our history. Each, therefore, has the potential to open up holiness for people in our time as well, and for me personally. However, each does not have equal claim on us, on me…Portions of the halacha whose main purpose seems to be to distance us from our surroundings no longer seem functional. Yet some parts of the halachic tradition seem perfect correctives to the imbalances of life in modernity…In those parts of tradition, we are sometimes blessed to experience a sense of God's closeness. In my personal life, I emphasize those areas. And other areas of halacha, I de-emphasize, or sometimes abandon. Reform Judaism affirms my right, our right, to make those kinds of choices.” – Rabbi Ramie Arian
“[Traditional Reconstructionist Jews] believe that moral and spiritual faculties are actualized best when the individual makes conscious choices…The individual’s choices, however, can and should not be made alone. Our ethical values and ritual propensities are shaped by the culture and community in which we live. Living a Jewish life, according to the Reconstructionist understanding, means belonging to the Jewish people as a whole and to a particular community of Jews, through which our views of life are shaped. Thus, while Reconstructionist communities are neither authoritarian nor coercive, they aspire to influence the individual’s ethical and ritual choices–through study of Jewish sources, through the sharing of values and experiences, and through the impact of the climate of communal opinion on the individual. …While we may share certain values and life situations, no two sets of circumstances are identical. We hope that the Reconstructionist process works to help people find the right answers for themselves, but we can only assist in helping individuals to ask the right questions so that their choices are made in an informed way within a Jewish context. To be true to ourselves we must understand the differences in perception between us and those who have gone before, while retaining a reverence for the traditions they fashioned. If we can juxtapose those things, we ensure that the past will have [in the phrase of Reconstructionism’s founder, Mordecai Kaplan,] a vote, but not a veto.” – Rabbi Jacob J. Straub (Note: the Reconstructionist movement was founded in the late 1920s, and has gone through a very large shift in the past decade or so. I use “Traditional” here to refer to the original version of the movement as opposed to those who have shifted. Both are still called Reconstructionist, so it’s a bit confusing. This is on the advice of one of my editors, who is themself Traditional Reconstructionist.)
You may note, neither of these talk about inventing things from whole cloth. To paraphrase one of my editors, “You don’t completely abandon [halacha], because if you did how would you have a cohesive community? Even in a ‘do what’s meaningful’ framework, you’re taking from the buffet, not bringing something to a potluck. Even if you don’t see halacha as binding, there are limits.”
(Again, disclaimer that the above knowledge of non-Orthodox movements comes from my editors, and any errors are mine.)
The next section is “Prayers for Mikveh.”
As a note, I’m going to censor the names of God when I quote actual blessings, as per traditional/Halachic practice. I’ll be putting brackets to indicate my alterations.
I’m not going to go much into detail here, because frankly my Hebrew isn’t good enough, and the six different people I asked for help gave me at least six different answers, but I will touch on it a bit.
First, the Guide gives a link to an article on Traditional Mikveh Blessings from Ritualwell (here is a link on the Wayback Machine, since the original requires you to make an account). Ritualwell is a Reconstructionist Jewish website, and accepts reviewed submissions. Here is their about page. The blessings on this page, as far as I know, are in fact exactly what it says on the tin. I’m not sure the first one, asher kidshanu b’mitzvotav v’tzivanu al ha-t’vilah, is said for non-obligatory immersions (i.e. not for niddah or conversion), as it is literally a blessing on the commandment. The second blessing at that link is Shehecheyanu, which the Guide also suggests as a good prayer. This is the traditional form of the blessing, given at Ritualwell:
Baruch Atah Ado[-]nai Elo[k]eynu Melech Ha-Olam shehekheyanu v’kiyimanu v’higiyanu lazman hazeh.
Blessed are You, [LORD] our God, Monarch of the universe, Who has kept us alive and sustained us, and brought us to this season.
(As a quick note, you may notice this is not quite how they translate it on Ritualwell–I have no idea why they say “kept me alive,” as it’s definitely “us” in the Hebrew. There’s a long tradition, in fact, of praying for the community rather than ourselves as an individual, but that’s not the point of this post.)
The Guide, however, gives an alternate form:
B’rucha At y[-]a Elo[k]eynu Ruakh haolam shehekheyatnu v’kiyimatnu v’higiyatnu lazman hazeh. You are Blessed, Our God, Spirit of the World, who has kept us in life and sustained us, enabling us to reach this season.
Under the assumption that most of you don’t know Hebrew, I’m going to break this down further. The main difference between these two is grammatical gender–the traditional blessing uses masculine forms, which is common when referring to God. However, while there are often masculine descriptions of God, it is worth noting that Hashem is very specifically not a “man”--God is genderless and beyond our comprehension, and masculine is also used in Hebrew for neutral or unspecified gender. A whole discussion of gender and language is also beyond the scope of this post, but for now let’s leave it at: changing the gender for God in prayer is pretty common among less traditional Jews, and that’s fine. Some of the changes they make (or don’t make) here are interesting, though. The two letter name of God they switch to is–despite ending in a hey (the “h” letter)–not feminine grammatically feminine. I’m told, however, that some progressive circles consider it neutral because it “sounds feminine.” “Elo-keynu” is also grammatically masculine, but a) that’s used for neuter in Hebrew and b) it’s also technically plural, so maybe they didn’t feel the need to change it. Though if that’s the case I would also have thought that Ado-nai (the tetragrammaton) would be fine, as it’s also technically male in the same way. I’m also not sure why they didn’t just change ”Melech HaOlam” to “Malkah HaOlam,” which would be the feminine form of the original words, but perhaps they were avoiding language of monarchy. It’s apparently a not uncommon thing to change.
One of the responses I got said the vowels in the verbs were slightly off, but I can’t say much above that, for the reasons given at the beginning of this section.
Also, and this is comparatively minor, the capitalization in the transliteration is bizarre. They capitalize “At” (you) and “Elo[k]eynu” (our God), but not “y[-]a…” which is the actual name of God in the blessing and should definitely be capitalized if you are capitalizing.
The Guide next gives a second blessing that can be used:
B’rucha at shekhinah eloteinu ruach ha-olam asher kid-shanu bi-tevilah b’mayyim hayyim. Blessed are You, Shekhinah, Source of Life, Who blesses us by embracing us in living waters. -Adapted by Dori Midnight 
The main thing I want to note about this is that…that’s not an accurate translation. It completely skips the word “eloteinu.” “Ruach ha-olam” means “spirit/breath of the universe/world,” not “Source of Life,” which would be “M’kor Ha-Olam,” as mentioned above. “Kid-shanu,” as she transliterates it, means “has sanctified us,” or “has made us holy,” not “blesses us”--both the tense and the word are wrong. “Bi-tevilah” doesn’t mean “embracing us,” either, it means “with immersing.” In full, the translation should be:
“Blessed are You, Shekhinah, our God, Spirit of the World, Who has sanctified us with immersion in living waters.”
The Shekhinah is an aspect/name of God(dess), though not a Name to the same level as the ones that can’t be taken in vain. It refers to the hidden Presence of God(dess) in our world, and is the feminine aspect of God(dess), inasmuch as God(dess) has gendered aspects–remember, our God(dess) is One. It’s not an unreasonable Name to use if you are trying to make a prayer specifically feminine.
(Though do be careful if you see it used in a blessing in the wild, because Messianics use it to mean the holy ghost.)
“Eloteinu” is, grammatically, the feminine form of Elokeinu (according to the fluent speakers I asked, though again I got several responses).
It is, again, odd that they don’t capitalize transliterated names of God, though here there is more of an argument that it’s a stylistic choice, Hebrew not having capital letters.
The Guide then repeats the link for Ritualwell.
Finally, we come to the last section, “Resources and Our Sources:”
First, they credit the Kohenet Institute and two of its founders. I do not want to go on a deepdive into the Kohenet Institute also, as this is already long enough, but I suppose I should say a bit.
The Kohenet Institute was a “clergy ordination program, a sisterhood / siblinghood, and an organization working to change the face of Judaism. For 18 years, Kohenet Hebrew Priestess Institutes founders, graduates and students reclaimed and innovated embodied, earth-based feminist Judaism, drawing from ways that women and other marginalized people led Jewish ritual across time and space” (Kohenet Hebrew Priestess Institute Homepage). It closed in 2023.
I have difficulty explaining my feelings about the Kohenet Institute. On the one hand, the people who founded it and were involved in it, I’m sure, were very invested in Judaism and very passionate in their belief. As with the authors of the Guide, I do not mean to attack them–I’m sure they’re lovely people.
On the other, I have trouble finding a basis for any of their practices, and most of what practices I do find trouble me–again, with the caveat that I am very much not into mysticism, so take my opinion with a grain of salt.
Of the three founders, only one (Rabbi Jill Hammer) seems to have much in the way of scholarly background. Rabbi Hammer, who was ordained at the Jewish Theological Seminary (a perfectly respectable school), has at least one article where she quotes the New Testament and a Roman satirist making fun of a Jewish begger who interpret dreams for money as proof “that Jewish prophetesses existed in Roman times,” which to me at least seems like saying that the Roma have a tradition of seeresses based on racist caricatures of what they had to do to survive, if you’ll pardon the comparison. In the same article, she says that Sarah and Abigail, who are listed in the Talmud as prophetesses “are not actually prophetesses as I conceptualize them here,” (pg 106) but that “abolitionist Ernestine Rose, anarchist Emma Goldman, and feminist Betty Friedan stand in the prophetic tradition.” Given God says explicitly in the text, “Regarding all that Sarah tells you, listen to her voice” (Genesis 21:12), I have no idea where she gets this.
The second founder, Taya Mâ Shere, describes the Institute on her website as “spiritual leadership training for women & genderqueer folk embracing the Goddess in a Jewish context,” which to me is blatantly what I and some of my editors have taken to calling Jews For Lilith. Now, it is possible this is a typo. However assuming it is not, and it would be a weird typo to have, this rather clearly reads as “the Goddess” being something one is adding a Jewish context to–which is exactly what I mean when I say this guide is taking Paganism and sprinkling a little Judaism on it. If it had said “embracing Goddess in a Jewish context,” I’d have no problem (aside from weird phrasing)--but “the Goddess” is very much a “divine feminine neo-pagan” kind of thing. We don’t say “the God” in Judaism, or at least I’ve never heard anyone do so. We just say God (or Goddess), because there’s only the one. In fact, according to this article, she returned to Judaism from neo-Paganism, and “began to combine the Goddess-centered practices she had co-created in Philadelphia with what she was learning from teachers in the Jewish Renewal movement, applying her use of the term Goddess to Judaism’s deity.” The “Goddess-centered practices” and commune in Philadelphia are described earlier in the article as “influenced by Wiccan and Native American traditions, in ways that Shere now considers appropriative (“After Kohenet, Who Will Lead the Priestesses?” by Noah Phillips).” I’m not sure how it suddenly isn’t appropriative now, but taking the Pagan practices you were doing and now doing those exact same rituals “but Jewish” is, in fact, still Pagan.
Shere also sells “Divining Pleasure: An Oracle for SephErotic Liberation,” created by her and Bekah Starr, which is a “divination card deck and an Omer counter inviting you more deeply into your body, your pleasure and your devotion to collective liberation.”
I hate this.
I hate this so much.
For those who don’t know, the Omer is the period between the second day of Passover and the holiday of Shavuot, 50 days later. It’s named for the Omer offering that was given on Passover, and which started the count of seven weeks (and a day, the day being Shavuot). The Omer, or at least part of it, is also traditionally a period of mourning, much like the Three Weeks between the fasts of the 17th of Tammuz and the 9th of Av–we don’t have weddings, we don’t listen to live music, we don’t cut our hair. It commemorates (primarily) the deaths of 24,000 students of Rabbi Akiva in a plague (possibly a metaphor for persecution or the defeat of the Bar Kochba revolt). It is often used as a time for introspection and self-improvement, using seven of the Kabbalistic Sephirot as guides (each day of the week is given a Sephira, as is each week, so each day of the 49 is x of y, see here). It’s not, as Shere’s class “Sex and the Sephirot: A Pleasure Journey Through the Omer” puts it, a time to “engage…toward experiencing greater erotic presence, deepening our commitment to nourishing eros, and embracing ritual practices of…pleasure.”
The final of the founders, Shoshana Jedwab, seems to be primarily a musician. In her bio on her website, scholarship and teaching are almost afterthoughts. I can find nothing about her background or classes. She’s also, from what I’ve found, the creator of the “sound mikvah.”
So all in all, while I’m sure they’re lovely people, I find it difficult to believe that they are basing their Institute on actual practices, particularly given they apparently include worship of Ashera as an “authentic” Jewish practice, see the above Phillips article and this tumblr post.
The institute also lists classes they offered, which “were open to those across faith practices - no background in Judaism necessary.” If you scroll down the page, you will see one of these courses was titled “Sefer Yetzirah: Meditation, Magic, & the Cosmic Architecture.” Sefer Yetzirah, for those of you unaware, “is an ancient and foundational work of Jewish mysticism.”
You may recall my saying something some 5700 (yikes) words ago about Jewish mysticism (i.e. Kabbalah) being a closed practice.
You may see why I find the Kohenet Institute problematic.
I will grant, however, that I have not listened to their podcasts nor read their books, so it is possible they do have a basis for what they teach. From articles I’ve read, and what I’ve found on their websites, I am unconvinced.
Returning to our original document, the Guide next gives several links from Ritualwell, which I’ve already discussed above. After those, they give links to two actual mikvah organizations: Mayyim Hayyim and Immerse NYC. Both are reputable organizations, and are Open Mikvahs. Neither (at least based on their websites) seem to recommend any of the nonsense in this Guide. In fact, Mayyim Hayyim explicitly does not allow non-Jews to immerse (unless it’s to convert). ImmerseNYC has advice to create a ritual in an actually Jewish way. I would say the link to these two groups are, perhaps, the only worthwhile information in this Guide.
They then list a few “mikveh related projects,” two of which are by the writers. The first, Queer Mikveh Project, is by one of the authors, Rebekah Erev. The link they give is old and no longer works, but on Erev’s website there is information about the project. Much of the language is similar to that in this guide. The page also mentions a “mikvah” ritual done to protest the Dakota Access Pipeline, in which “the mikveh…[was] completely optional.” And, of course, there was an altar. The second project, the “Gay Bathhouse” by (I believe) the other author and Shelby Handler, is explicitly an art installation.
The final link is to this website (thanks to the tumblr anon who found it), which is the only source we’ve been able to find on Shekinah Ministries (aside from a LOT of Messianic BS from unrelated organizations of the same name). So good news–this isn’t a Messianic. Bad news, it also seems to have a shaky basis in actual Jewish practice at best. It is run by artist Reena Katz, aka Radiodress, whose MKV ritual is, like “Gay Bathhouse,” a performance project. As you can see from the pictures on Radiodress’s website (cw for non-sexual nudity and mention of bodily fluids), it is done in a clearly portable tub in a gallery. As part of the process, participants are invited to “add any material from their body,” including “spit, urine, ejaculate, menstrual blood,” “any medication, any hormones they might be taking,” and supplies Radiodress offers including something called “Malakh Shmundie,” “a healing tincture that translates to “angel pussy” made by performance artist Nomy Lamm” (quotes from “An Artist’s Ritual Bath for Trans and Queer Communities” by Caoimhe Morgan-Feir). The bath is also filled by hand, which is very much not in line with halacha. Which, if you’re doing performance art, is fine.
But this Guide is ostensibly for authentic Jewish religious practice.
And with that (aside from the acknowledgements, which I don’t feel the need to analyze), we are done. At last.
Thank you for reading this monster of a post. If you have made it this far, you and I are now Family. Grab a snack on your way out, you deserve it.
Further Reading and Resources:
https://www.mayyimhayyim.org/risingtide/members/
https://www.mikvah.org/directory
https://www.mayyimhayyim.org/
http://www.immersenyc.org/
https://aish.com/what-is-a-mikveh/
https://www.chabad.org/theJewishWoman/article_cdo/aid/1541/jewish/The-Mikvah.htm
https://www.chabad.org/library/article_cdo/aid/1230791/jewish/Immersion-of-Vessels-Tevilat-Keilim.htm
https://www.myjewishlearning.com/article/why-immerse-in-the-mikveh/
Meth, Rabbi Ephraim. 50 Mikvahs That Shaped History. Feldheim Publishers, 2023.
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fallhound · 3 months
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I knoooow that to have more interactions n shit on here i gotta put myself out there, but what if the comment in my reblog or reply is bad? who shall tie me to the cucking stool and dunk me in the river for my misdeeds?
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mumms-the-word · 8 months
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Settling In
Day 4 for the BG3 Fic February Challenge. The Faerûnian February challenge? The write-BG3-fic-for-29-days challenge. That challenge.
This one was tricky for me, and honestly I could have picked any Tav for it. But I chose Dani for today, with some bonus notes about other Tavs at the end.
Check out the Masterlist of my fics here.
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4. Camp chores
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Dani stretched her arms high over her head, letting every inch of the muscles in her arms find sweet relief from the tension they’d been carrying since early that morning. At least, for a brief moment. The second she dropped her arms, all the aches came back and settled in, as if they planned to stay for good.
Typical. You’d think that after nearly two weeks of adventure, her body would have gotten used to it, but no. Then again, the alternative was ceremorphosis, a fate she was miraculously escaping for some weird reason. So maybe a few muscle aches weren’t so bad, compared to the alternative.
This was her life now. Days on the road, wandering the wilderness, following leads, getting into trouble, getting out of trouble, and then setting up camp to get a good night’s rest, only to start it all over again in the morning. 
She set her hands on her hips and watched her companions a moment. Like her, they had all fallen into a kind of rhythm for camp each night. Almost without fail, everyone sort of ended up doing the same things, half-consciously assigning chores to themselves and making sure that everything that needed to get done actually got done. 
Gale was on cooking duty, as he was every night, a duty he would probably never sacrifice. Subject myself to the culinary whims of the likes of Lae’zel? Or worse, Wyll? No thank you, he’d once told her when she suggested he let someone else cook. I’d sooner attempt to sink my teeth into a live worg than suffer one of their dubious dishes.
Dani had thought about suggesting Shadowheart as a potential replacement for cooking duty, but Shadowheart probably considered a bottle of wine and half a pastry as dinner. And besides, Gale was a good cook and no one was complaining. Once, he'd turned a few smoked links of sausage, some cheese wedges, and some fruit into a damn charcuterie board. Lae'zel had mocked him for it, but Dani had never had anything so fancy in her life, even in the city.
Wyll had gotten the firewood for the fire and was already back on the prowl for more sticks and bits of wood for later that night. They’d only recently discovered that Wyll was a duke’s son—specifically Duke Ulder Ravengard’s son—and the knowledge made so much of his behavior make sense for Dani. Like the fact that when it was his turn to do the dishes, they usually came back half-clean, because Wyll’s version of a clean dish was dunking a dirty plate into the river until it came back looking free of crumbs. Or the fact that his shirt was actively unraveling and he barely seemed to notice. Or the fact that when Dani opened their drink chest—because of course she liked to keep things organized, Brann would have killed her if she let her stuff just rattle around in various containers in camp—he had to have a thorough discussion with Gale about what was on the menu before choosing his wine to pair with it.
Oh Wyll. He made her laugh. At least he could be relied upon for a good story at night, something he and Dani could talk about for hours.
Dani’s gaze flicked over to Astarion, who had already set up his tent and was lounging against his faded, embroidered pillows, reading a book with a telltale bored expression. He abjectly refused to do any camp chores on principle. He didn’t eat regular food, he didn’t need the warmth of the fire, and the one time Gale suggested he clean the dishes (since no one in camp liked to do the dishes and it was only fair that they all take turns), he threatened to toss the dishes in a wooden crate and float it down the Chionthar. Out of sight, out of mind, he’d said. Shadowheart had done the dishes that night instead. 
But he did his share, too, Dani reminded herself. As a high elf and a vampire, the man didn’t sleep. As long as he wasn’t hunting for blood to keep himself strong, he was their most reliable watchman. Strange as it seemed to trust a vampire, she slept better at night knowing he'd be keeping watching for most of it. Though she wished he would stop reading the Necromancy of Thay at night. They were all starting to hear the whispers from that damned book by now.
“Hey, Dan.” Karlach walked by with one of the camp crates hefted easily on her shoulder. Scratch followed at her heels, tongue lolling out, happy to get some exercise following Karlach around. “Where do you want this?”
“Which one is that?"
"Spare clothes, I think."
"Oh, right” She looked around the camp for a moment before shrugging. “Just set it next to the library rock. I should probably go through it. We’re low on funds.”
“You got it, soldier. Want me to do the same with the armor and weapons?”
“Sure. I’ll see what needs sorting.”
She watched Karlach walk off, Scratch once more trailing behind. Karlach set down the crate before crossing to the other side of camp to grab some other heavy thing. No matter where they set up camp, Karlach was there to heft things from one side to the other, helping everyone set up their spaces. Some of the companions had heavy belongings and Dani was glad she wasn’t the one having to haul stuff like Astarion and Shadowheart’s whole ass potted plants or Lae’zel’s whetstone or Gale’s ever growing book collection out of the magical chest of holding. Just tell me where to drop it, soldier, was her common refrain. Karlach was happy to move stuff around camp, especially if it meant escaping dish duty.
Although, the more Dani thought about it, the more she wondered why they weren’t asking Withers to just wave his hand and set everything up for them. Then again, she knew what he’d say if she asked him.
No.
Grumpy old bag of bones. She hoped he wasn’t lonely while half their camp was galavanting off on adventures. She wondered if anyone that stayed behind in camp talked to him. Half the time she sort of forgot he was there, he was so quiet. 
Pushing that thought aside for now, she went over to the library rock and sat down in the chair beside it. The big old rock served as the camp desk, more or less, heaped with books and maps and notes she (and Gale) had collected and used to plan their next move. It had sort of become her space, even though anyone could use it. 
Opening one of the crates that Karlach had set down by the rock, she started to sort the items into three piles. Stuff she wanted to keep, just to have extra supplies, stuff she wasn’t sure she wanted to do yet, and stuff she wanted to sell. She’d reorganize everything back in their respective crates once she was done, but she wanted to see everything she had to work with and plan out what needed to stay and what needed to go.
Old habits died hard. She’d learned to keep up with her belongings and travel light when she was part of the Merry Rovers. Now, out here as a ragtag band of adventurers, the last thing they needed was stuff to weigh them down. It was much, much better to have coin instead.
So every night, or almost every night, she went through all their extra stuff and made sure everything was organized in the correct boxes, crates, and chests in the camp. It made everyone's lives easier, and she found plenty of things to sell for a bit more coin in her pockets.
She could never have too much gold, after all.
As she was frowning over some of their extra weapons, daggers and javlins and the like, Lae’zel came over to stand nearby, arms cross. “What do you intend to do with all of those weapons?” she asked.
“I haven’t decided yet.” She looked up at Lae’zel. “I don’t think anyone needs a replacement weapon, do they?”
“A replacement? No. I’ve made sure that everyone’s current weapons are sharp and ready for battle in the morning,” she said. “Except for your rapier. I will take that now, if you don’t mind.” She said it not as a polite suggestion, but as if she expected no argument. She even held out her hand expectantly.
Dani reached behind her and pulled her rapier from her sheathe, handing it over hilt-first. This was Lae’zel’s preferred chore, and Dani wasn’t about to argue. T’chk, she’d say. What do you know about maintaining a sharp edge on your blades? Dani’s answer was absoutely nothing. She barely knew how the spin the grindstone. 
But Lae’zel abhorred bad weapon maintenance, and she also trusted absolutely no one with her grindstone, so she was inevitably the one who kept everyone’s weapons sharp, oiled up, and clean. She might have sharp words to say to everyone for the state of their weapons and armor, but Dani was endlessly grateful she kept them all battle-ready.
“Do you need any extra blades?” Dani asked. “If not, I was planning on just selling the lot. Maybe keep a few daggers on hand.”
“One can never have too many daggers,” Astarion said across the way, turning a page in his book. Sometimes it was uncanny how good his hearing was.
Lae’zel rolled her eyes, but otherwise ignored him. “Do what you want with your blades. I will return shortly.”
She left Dani to her sorting. Dani crossed her legs beneath her in the chair and began packing away the things she wanted to keep. As she was folding the extra shirts, Shadowheart walked up with an armful of fabric. Clothes, blankets, even tent material.
“Does any of that need washing?” Shadowheart asked. “I’m about to take this batch to the river, now that we have a bit more soap to work with.”
Dani had been surprised when Shadowheart first took on the laundry as her preferred chore. But when she’d asked Shadowheart about it, Shadowheart merely made a grimace. Is that so surprising? No one else in the camp can be trusted to do it properly, and I absolutely refuse to stay in a camp that reeks of goblin guts and swamp water. Underwear was off the table, though. Everyone still had to clean their own underwear. 
Dani had pointed out that she, Astarion, and Gale were all pretty decent at keeping up with their clothes, but Shadowheart wouldn’t be swayed. The only downside to Shadowheart on laundry duty is that once something was dry, she just tossed it into your tent without folding it. I said I’d clean it, not fold it. I’m not your housekeeper. 
Dani supposed she couldn’t complain. She hated doing the laundry. It had been her job for as long as she was tall enough to reach down into a washbasin, at least when she was living with her mother. She hated how raw it made her hands and how wrinkled her skin would be from all the water and soap. She hated the smell of lye and she hated having to wring out all the water and she hated how it made her back ache. So if anyone in camp wanted to do laundry, and all she had to do was fold her own clothes, she was happy to let them do it.
“It’s all clean enough for now,” Dani said. “You look like you have plenty to work with.”
“Suit yourself,” Shadowheart said, and disappeared toward the river. 
Dani leaned back with her elbow on the back of the chair, surveying the camp again thoughtfully. There was Gale, bending over the cookpot on the fire, conjuring a mage hand to hold the spoon. There was Wyll, coming back with an armload of branches and sticks, whistling a tune as he went. There was Karlach, setting down a straw target dummy and doing a brief bit of shadowboxing before patting the dummy on its canvas shoulder and walking away. There was Lae’zel, running Dani’s blade against her whetstone and testing the point with a finger, frowning at her work. There was Shadowheart, kneeling at the edge of the river, scrubbing suds into one of their shirts, her back to all of them. And there was Astarion, lounging at his tent like a Calishite pasha, seemingly absorbed in his reading.
Strange to think that just over two weeks ago, her entire world was held within the walls and streets of Baldur’s Gate, her family made up of a few roving bards and her mother. Now her world was expanded, exploding out into the wilderness along the Chionthar and beyond, and full of seemingly endless danger. But there were moments, like now, where everything just felt sort of…right. 
In just a handful of days, she’d come to trust these six companions with her life and more. They argued, teased, and poked at each other, but they also had each others’ backs in battle and even here in camp. They helped maintain each others’ weapons, and cooked, and washed the laundry, and kept watch, and checked in on one another, in their own little ways. 
Soon, once Gale announced that dinner was ready, they’d gather around the fire to eat. And there they’d bicker and joke and laugh and get on one another’s nerves, like they did every night. Dani and Wyll might tell stories while the others listened, or Dani might play a bit on her fiddle, assuming she had finished eating first and the others wouldn’t be too annoyed at her music. Or Karlach would try to tell corny jokes and Gale would laugh harder than anyone else at them, whether they were clever or not, and even Lae’zel would crack a smirk at one or two of them. Then they'd argue about whose turn it was to do the dishes before breaking off to go to their tents and get some sleep.
Such was the way they lived these days. Like a strange little family.
The thought gave her pause. Family. Two weeks ago that word encompassed a total of five people: her mother, Brann, Liara, Kellen, and Paraxxel. Now it included Gale, Wyll, Karlach, Astarion, Shadowheart, and Lae’zel.
Oh. And Scratch, of course. Couldn’t forget him.
As if on cue, Scratch bounded over and sat himself right by Dani’s leg, setting his head on her knee. She smiled down at him and gave him plenty of good scratches around the ears before glancing around the camp again.
Yeah, they were all family. For better and for worse. Even Withers, she decided. Maybe it wouldn’t last, she didn’t know. But she knew right now that she wouldn’t have it any other way.
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BONUS - Other Tav duties
I generally think that all the companions kind of fall into the same chores for most Tavs/Durges, with a bit of shifting depending on who is or isn't present. So with that in mind...
Ardynn's main chore would be hunting and gathering herbs for Gale to cook with. Honestly, their group probably eats the best out of all my Tavs because she also knows how to cook and she makes sure they always have fresh food, if she can manage it. Obviously the Shadow Cursed Lands make that task a lot harder.
Invi struggles to figure out what chore she's best at, so she just does whatever someone else doesn't want to do. That doesn't mean she's good at it. She's officially banned from doing laundry or dishes because her lightning magic doesn't mix well with water, and she may have ruined a few shirts or lost utensils down the river even when she keeps the lightning magic in check.
Freyr is the Firewood Guy. But in that "hauls a whole ass log into camp and chops it up while shirtless, occasionally rips wood apart with his bare hands" kind of way. Do not trust him to cook or clean.
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bonefall · 1 year
Note
How does Darkstar feel about Leopardstar? With Darkstar being the one who made Queen's Rights and Riverclan being sort of The Queen's Rights clan, what does she think about Leopardstar embracing an ideology that stands against that?
Darkstar is definitely one of the reasons Leopardstar got sent to the Dark Forest, holy mackerel, she was mAAAD
BB!Leopardstar also contributed to Crookedstar's death unlike canon, but even if she HADN'T done that Darkstar would have wanted her ass on a silver plate for allowing Stormpaw and Featherpaw to be in harm's way.
"I didn't dunk Oakstar in the river, change the code, and specifically pick my successor to keep my Clan out of the insanity that was the Crusades for you to ruin it with your poisonpaws."
BB!Leopardstar would be too proud to ever attempt pulling a 'I didn't stand up for myself :( it was Tigerstar's idea' type of defense, but if she did, it would only make Darkstar angrier. Like, "I'll peel the spots off of your cowardly body" levels of mad.
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crzyimp · 5 months
Text
Monkey May
Prompt: Staff
Featuring my jttw oc.
no warnings
“Brother, are you certain your staff should be in arm's reach of the baby? What if she hurt herself?” Zhu Bajie asks, his eyes frequently on the golden hair baby; it amazes him how one night of bender in the women’s kingdom and Pilgrim Sun feeling frisky about cutting off his head and then dunking it in the mother-child river. Strangest of all, the old severed head would crack open like an egg with a hairy baby girl inside, everyone had their jaws open until she started crying; now Xiao Sāniàowáwa was the newest addition to the party. (Everyone is still arguing on what her name will be once 100 days have passed, so far Shifu has the best name).
“Foolish Idiot, no one has been able to lift my staff since it came into my possession. The little fluff ball is no different, besides she's a baby, not like she's going to pick it up and eat it.” Pilgrim Sun with a puff up chest and a self assured smile reply.
“My dearest brothers…um..ah…Xiao Sāniàowáwa…just ate brother Sun's staff.” Sha Wujing's murmur with horror
“Are you so certain now?! She picked it up like a grain of rice and ate it, you just had to make it that size too didn't you! Shifu is going to be furious when he hears about this!” Zhu Bajie's voice booms.
“Maybe if we pat her back, she might burp it out.” Sha Wujing gently scoops the baby up, resting her stomach against his chest.
“Or! I shrink myself down to size and get it myself!” Sun Wukong said matter of factly.
“Or can someone explain to me what's going on?” The three disciples' eyes land on the owner's voice, Tang Sanzang himself standing there waiting for an answer.
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writingwenches · 9 days
Text
lol I'm jealous of everyone having ask game fun time when I have to go to work so here's what I wrote yesterday, I was feeling like I didn't get much accomplished but ngl its not too bad! everything is first draft vibes, not edited, you know the drill.
The Cinda Lannister special 😈
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There was a darkness under the water, in the bottom of the bucket, as my feet kicked and screamed for release. Cinda would always keep me under just long enough to feel spots in my vision, my arms flooding with the pain of nothing to power them upright. 
I would come out of the water gasping, I have not learned to time it right, gulping down water into my lungs and retching it back up to make way for the sweet air of the dungeonous cellar. 
“Lynora, Lynora, Lynora,” she cooed out my new name, something that wasn’t quite me. “Tell me why we’re doing this,” it was an order, no matter how sweetly her voice dripped, I knew it was just as vile as the contents of her overused dunking bucket. 
“You're a devil,” I wasn’t going to say it or play her game. 
Cinda sighed, and I felt myself being pushed back down.
“Wait—“ I was given my chance as my nose was plunged under the water, “for-for my own good, to protect me,” I repeated the words, the psalms, the hymns that had been sung to me since I arrived in the stone prison. I could taste the pile in the waters and my body screamed to rest, for relief. Just give them what they want. 
I was allowed to be thrown on the stone floor, slick with water and mess. I could finally breath and I tried to get as much air as my lungs could take. The sick still came, but the air flowed freely. The thoughts returned to my brain as I came back into the reality. 
“When you run away,” Cinda spoke, her overly tall boots protecting her fanciful gown from the darkness of the floor, “you are putting yourself in danger. Simply, anything could happen to you, and therefore anything could happen to House Lannister.” Cinda was kind enough to bend down to my level, “Think of the ransom that could be demanded for an unmarried Lady of House Lannister.” 
I wasn’t sure if a married lady would cost them more or less. 
“The Ironborn are always looking for a reason to bleed the Lannisters of their gold.” I forgot to not flinch away at her touch, as Cinda brushed away the water trails left by my soaking hair. “That’s why we have Lady Bette Harlaw in our care, she is a ward taken from the Ironborn, to keep them in line. We have grown very fond of her, and don’t want any harm to come to her.” I was sure I had met the girl before, she was waiting to spot the sea over the river hills. “Imagine if the Ironborn were to capture you, and begin making demands, we could have to watch the suffering of poor Lady Bette until they yielded. We’ve already send House Harlaw proof of our intensions with her, and she doesn’t have many fingers left, poor thing.” 
Cinda sighed, as if I were such an inconvenience, “Now go make yourself presentable, it is almost time for dance lessons. We don't want to be late, do we? What happens when we are late?” 
“You will burn the bottoms of my feet,” I say, knowing full well there was a gaggle of serving maids to make me presentable for the other woman. 
“Splendid, you remember,” Cinda smiled sweetly, “I learned to dance in such a way, my grandmother burned my feet to prepare me for the terribly uncomfortable shoes fashionable at the time.”
— 
I should have known better than to take such an easy escape route, it seemed like a blessing at the time. A door too open, a field too calling, a tree line too far. 
Cinda had made sure to explain the entire plot before the lid of my box nailed shut for the journey. She said I could think about all the ways I have failed House Lannister along the River Road, and she meant it. I lost track of the days I spent in the box, laying and crouching in the corner, not able to fully sit upright, only a few holes drilled for air. The inside was inlayed with velvet, I didn’t know the color, but I assumed it was bright red or gold.
At one stop Cordelia came to visit at the small air hole cut from the side. 
“Lynora?” she asked, knocking on the outside of the wooden box. 
“Cordelia? Cordelia?”
“Yes, am I here!” She stuck her fingers into the box to hold my hand. 
“Can you help me?” I beg, the words flowing from my mouth before knowing what I was asking.
“Oh, no—but I have this!” she young girl offered something made of paper. “It’s the steps to the dances drawn out, for you to study while you…wait.”
“Thank you Cordelia,” I reluctantly say, and accept the gift. 
I wished I had spent time studying the map of the worlds, hanging on the walls of the Septas offices. They had passed the town of Fairmarket, I had heard of such a place people have hailed from in Estermont’s markets. I had heard it was an amazing place, with every type of fish imaginable, they even had citrus fruit of brightly colored. 
I never got to see the color of my citrus fruit, the one shared with me by the Liar Prince, the True Prince? A glimmer of hope fluttered in my chest, as I remembered his promise of an endless mountain of all the fruit I could one day eat, if only I follow Cinda’s rules. 
There were times in the box, that I practiced the dancing. Cordelia had drawn them out plainly enough. I didn’t know the music, but the movements were practiceable. 
My legs ached at dance practice, stretching them out for the first time in days after the caravan of carriages pulled into the gates of yet another Keep. 
“You act like you’re the first person to be locked in a box on the road before,” the woman in all black chimed in, the other girls laughed. 
Cinda had brought out multiple ladies to fetch her from the Riverlands, as she had been informed multiple times. 
“I told you she wouldn’t make it,” the woman in purple spoke. I knew the colors had a deeper meaning in their clothing, it was part of their identity in some way, stronger than their names. “Just as soon dig a ditch aside the country road and be done with her already.”
The girls laughed again, all but Cordelia, my little cousin, the closest thing to a friend I have, She was too preoccupied with the dancing steps. It was a relief that she wasn’t speaking about my impending death with such causality. 
“You’re one to talk, Lady Margaret,” Cinda’s voice was clear and singular, even without looking, I could tell she was smiling her sickly sweet smile, “with those hooves you call feet. You might soon join her in that ditch!” 
The chime of the women’s laughter this time was different, but I couldn’t figure out why. They were answering something, saying they understood. 
Lady Margaret reminded me of Aeditya, her skin was deeper and her hair much longer, but their noses were the same, powerful and knowing, sitting in the center of their face’s, knowing who they are. 
“You tease me, Lady Cinda,” Margaret responded, “you know better than anyone I could attract any man I wish. I have won bets enough to prove it. You know I always keep my the receipts of my winnings.” 
There was no laughter to this, at least not until Cinda herself began it. 
— 
Lady Filippa Banefort was charged with sharing a room with me to keep me from running again, she apparently had experience in the way. Not that you would know from the way she acted, unless she spent the entirety of her experience was spent making the other person feel unwelcome. 
She sighed loudly every time I moved. 
“I can not believe you will be our savior,” Filippa rolled her words with spite. 
I couldn’t help but laugh, “your what?” I was laying on a cot more comfortable than anything I had ever lounged on before. 
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lacetop · 7 months
Note
ooooh :0 may we hear more about this eye kink?
presented under a readmore for cw gore, body horror, terrible things happening to eyes
eyes are hot
& less in a lost staring into the beautiful eyes of your lover way (although intense, intimate eye contact does have appeal), more in a way of: delicate. fragile. soft. vulnerable. intricate. fascinating organ. did i mention delicate. did you ever dissect an eye in biology class? shit's wild in there. contact lenses aside, most people have a visceral revulsion to getting up close and personal with eyes -- and so much of kink is about getting off on the grotesque.
the nasty
consider the overlap of monsterfucking with the appeal of eyes. consider all the weird and beautiful eyes out there in nature, then consider puttting weird and beautiful eyes on fantastical babes. really big eyes. lots and lots and lots of eyes. eyes in weird places. weird pupils, weird irises. consider kissing those eyes tenderly.
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malevolent: john/arthur, affectionately getting freaky about eye kissing
the nastier
remember how i stressed delicate, earlier
i've always loved horror stories, and many horror stories lean on our visceral feelings about eyes and the terrible things that can happen to them.
i don't remember any little mermaid-esque accidental-kink media, but the first media i read that made me say 'aw fuck i am into this, aren't i' is a magnus archive fanfic (of course, right? of course):
Was he more careful with removing Jonah’s eyes? That would only be natural, Jon reasoned, easing the first out of its socket. Jonah in his original body was so frail. And Jon needed these fully intact, after all. He held Jonah’s grey eye in his palm and wondered if he was still seeing, even now. Despite Jon closing them for him, Jonah’s eye was almost dry against his skin. Bloodshot from its unending vigil. It didn’t seem right. Something tugged at the back of his mind. Instinct? From himself, or from the Eye? Jon couldn’t tell anymore, and maybe he never had. Maybe there was no difference between the two at all. Either way, he was past denying the urges that guided him. Jon brought Elias’ eye to his mouth. He parted his lips and imagined that his breath fogged over its surface like over glass. Tentatively, he allowed his tongue to slip out, stroking it against the smooth orb. There wasn’t much of a taste, really. A bit salty. He kept searching it out, mindlessly almost, lapping at the eye between his fingers. Following the curve around its circumference, back to the tangle of vessel and nerve that he took care not to disturb. The eye was stickily damp by the time Jon was pulling James’ eyelids back again. Slotting Elias’ eye into place in that empty, yawning space. Then, he waited again. Watching. There were more theatrics this time. For all that Jon knew, all that he had learned of what Jonah Magnus had done to survive, he had never seen it happen. Not to another person, at least, rather than an empty vessel awaiting Jonah’s return.
i've written a bit of sexy eye trauma, myself, which i'm astonished to find that other people have enjoyed (even if despite themselves)
fallen london: in which a friend dunked their very chewable oc fellian into the river for my tentaclesona to snack on
malevolent: arthur/kayne, not the first pair of eyes arthur's put out but definitely the 'victim' having the most fun
& no spoilers for malevolent ch. 40, but this podcast is the gift that keeps on giving regarding horrible terrible sexy eye crimes. there is more enucleation porn to be written.
in irl play
maybe if somebody gently pressed their fingers on your eyelids, feeling your eyes roll and give slightly beneath their lids, it would be really hot. maybe if they kissed your eyelids it would be hot. maybe if they took that thin, delicate skin between their teeth it would be hot. maybe if they dug the tip of their tongue into the corner of your eye to taste your tear duct it would be really fucking hot. maybe you'd have a nice orgasm about it.
tl;dr
that's a lovely, very delicate organ you've got there. what if something bad happened to it?
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balkanradfem · 5 months
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I’m jealous of your lifestyle, how you talk about gardening and swimming in lakes and all that stuff. How are you able to do it? Do you own land? Are you rich? Do you have a job? I know that’s personal, but I ask because I want to make my life more like yours.
Gardening and swimming in lakes is not my life. It's only moments, and I choose to highlight those moments on this blog because I want to share my happy moments with someone, and hopefully inspire people to garden and to be less dependent on grocery stores for food.
It seems you only read few recent posts on my blog, but didn't find my posts where I write about health issues that are so bad that I cannot walk for more than 20 minutes, where I can't keep a full-time job because of my chronic illness, mostly can't afford to buy food and that is why I grow it in the community garden with no budget, posts where I'm heartbroken that the city where I live, with roommates, is taking down trees that are my only source of comfort.
I'm picking and choosing what to write about, and sometimes I only pick good moments because I don't want to spend my time here complaining and making people feel bad for me. And you now picked over those, to create this fictional lifestyle that nobody is having. I'm too sick to have a regular job, so I made peace with poverty and working less. So I have time for gardening, but I have to share a room, and eat just what I grow. And sometimes I can go and dunk myself into the river, which is something anyone can do who lives close to the river.
The thing is, this is what happens with anyone who showcases their light and happy moments online, it creates the illusion of a lifestyle that doesn't exist, you could pick and choose moments from anyone's life and make it seem like they're living a fictional life that feels too good to be true. People will even exaggerate to create that illusion on purpose, to create admiration or jealousy. But I purposely don't do that, I write about ruining my washing machine with moss, fixing my own toilet, despairing because my bike broke and I have no way to get to work because I can't walk, having a neck injury that doctors can't seem to help me with. It is heartbreaking to me that someone would say 'I want this lifestyle', nobody wants this.
If you have few hours of free time a week, and know of a place in a community garden, you can try to get a parcel and grow food there. If you have a body of water near you, you can try swimming in it, provided it's not polluted. If you live in an area where growing space is not accessible, and bodies of water are far away or polluted, then this is made difficult or impossible. My only luck is that the city I live in is not yet so badly polluted that air and water would be poisonous to me, so I can have my little moments enjoying the nature before the climate change gets to it.
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aita-blorbos · 11 months
Note
AITA for eating the last crystal?
I know it sounds silly, but crystals have been really scarce ever since the second sun appeared and burned the land. Me and the rest of my tribe have been doing our best to transport edible plants where they'll be protected from the burning light, but the crystals just refuse to grow anywhere that isn't mostly submerged, and the rivers are *really* exposed. As a result they're really scarce.
After going weeks without eating crystals though, everyone's started craving them really bad for some reason, myself included. So when I found a crystal growing in the shelter of some logs, I immediately bashed it open with a rock and ate it.
Well, as soon as I raised my eyestalks above the rubble, I saw that I was being watched. And apparently, that was the last crystal in the entire world. Now my entire tribe is angry at me and flashing all kinds of disapproving colors. But they knew how much I was craving crystals, because they were too! Surely I'm not the asshole for having a snack? I didn't have any way of knowing it was the last one!
But now they're gonna punish me by covering me in stickyballs and dunking me in leaves, which means they mean business, and I want to prove I'm in the right. AITA?
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hannahssimblr · 7 months
Text
Chapter Twenty (Part 2)
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We bike down to the beach together at the warmest part of the day, and because there are only three bicycles, one for Claire and each of her parents, Jude and I decide to share. We take a wobbly ride down the road, all cracked tarmac and chunks of loose rock as I balance on the handlebars. I feel free with the wind in my hair, and I’m reminded of the night that he took me to the abandoned church years ago, a bike ride I was almost sure for several moments that I wouldn’t survive. Jude isn’t like that anymore. He’s careful with me as though I’m something precious he’s afraid to break, and the only time he takes his hands off the handlebars is to join me as I stick both my fingers up at a car full of men who wolf whistle at Claire. We shout obscenities at them in every language we know, but I don’t think that anybody knows anything sufficiently offensive in Greek.
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When the sea opens up ahead of us along the coastal road I think I might start to cry. It’s like I’m in a film. Irish waters are a different blue to this. They’re greener, murkier and foamier, beautiful in their own wild and dramatic way, but this slice of the Mediterranean is so clear that I can see the pale sand at the very bottom and a shoal of fish that swims around a small sea stack like the fluid stroke of a brush. 
“Woah, don’t lean like that,” Jude warns me. “I’ll lose control and hurl us over the cliffs.” I stare ahead instead to where Claire and Shane swerve down the slope of the road and into the heart of Pissouri village, with its white brick walls and red slate roofs, where the beach opens up ahead of us like the doors of a cathedral. It’s so achingly beautiful that I could fall to my knees and pray to it. 
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Before I even unroll my towel I am stripping myself down to my swimming togs and running towards the sea like it’s calling me home. “Bit eager,” I hear Shane comment as I go, but I don’t care. I am straight in, head under the turquoise water, my fingers digging into the snow white sand on the seafloor and I watch the interesting shapes and colours of the diffused light until the salt stings my eyes too much and I need to come up for air. 
“Jesus,” Claire is saying to me, up to her thighs and no further. “You really went for it, girl. It’s a bit cold.”
“It’s lovely,” I whip wet hair away from my face and spit salt water down my chin. I feel like my enthusiasm is a bit ferocious, considering none of the locals on the beach are swimming, but I don’t really care. I wade in until the sea laps around my chin and I have to stand all the way up on the tips of my toes to touch the bottom while Jude pulls his t-shirt off and dashes to join me. At the same moment, Shane tosses a ball at him far too hard and it flies over his head and lands somewhere close to me. “I have it,” I call out, and toss to Jude, who again, misses it, falling sideways into the water with a dramatic slap in his attempt to snatch it from the air. He surfaces glossy and sleek like a dolphin with the ball in his hand, and he tosses it to Claire who shrieks when it skims the surface and sprays cold water up her torso. 
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“Let me get all the way in before getting me all wet! I’m not ready.” And then Shane comes out of nowhere with an arm hooked on her waist and dunks her in like he’s baptising her in the river Jordan. I laugh until my stomach hurts, and while she’s spluttering with outrage and Shane is experiencing instant regret and profusely apologising, I think seriously about saying something soft and emotional about how happy all three of them make me and how glad I am to be here with them. I don’t have a chance to because the ball comes for me next and I have to abandon my sentimental side to catch it. 
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An hour later, Jude and I dry off in the sun while Shane and Claire head off on an excursion to locate some bottled water. I watch them going for ages, hand in hand, laughing and bumping off one another like they’ve just started going out, not like a couple that’s approaching their fourth year together. 
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“They’re so happy together lately.” I say, flipping over on my towel to get some midday heat on the backs of my legs. 
“No need to sound so accusatory.” Jude chuckles. 
“I’m not, it’s just an observation. They’ve been so loved up the last few weeks, it’s just a pretty stark contrast after the months on end they spent arguing in the kitchen.”
“I guess they’ve just worked it out. I’m happy for them.”
“Yeah but I’m just curious about what’s changed all of a sudden. I wish they’d just tell us.”
“Well, they will in their own time, I’m sure.” He says, and picks up the can of suncream. “Do you want me to get your back? It’s been like two hours since you last put it on.”
“God, you’re so attentive.” I say. 
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“Again with the accusations,” He quips, and sprays it onto the small of my back. My eyes flutter closed at the sensation of his hand on my skin. “He’s always been obsessed with her anyway,” He continues. “I’m not that surprised that he’s compromised for her, I really think he’d do anything if it meant keeping her forever.”
“You think that’s what’s happened? He’s compromised?”
“He’s finishing his degree, right? Isn’t that a compromise?”
“What if she’s compromised?”
He moves to the skin between my shoulder blades, “What would that involve?”
“Dunno,” I tug my lip thoughtfully between my teeth, “Shane just seems too happy about finishing up that course, it made him so unhappy, and he’s just so stubborn,” I peer at Jude, “Do you think you’d give up on your dreams for a girl?”
“Hm,” A line comes between his eyebrows. “Depends on what dreams and what girl.”
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“What’s your dream right now?” He sprays sun cream onto my upper thighs and I move quickly to rub it in before he can. 
“Work-wise?”
“Yeah.”
“You know,” He sighs and leans back into his towel with a distant look out over the sea, “I’ve been thinking more and more about getting into film after college.”
“Film?” I echo, surprised. 
“Mm, like, my degree could open up some possibilities in things like props and practical effects, and honestly I really really like the sound of that. It seems like something with real purpose. I’d love all of that stuff, I’ve just been researching so much about it and watching all of these videos about the process,” He looks at me and his eyes are dancing, “You know, like the way that they make all of those specialty objects for Wes Anderson movies, I like to imagine myself doing that, I’d be so good at it. I’m so detail oriented, it just seems perfect.”
I kind of feel bad asking him my next question because he seems so thrilled by the idea of his future, but the whole point of this conversation is the ultimatum, “Would you give that up for a woman?”
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“It depends if she would ask.”
“Hypothetically, she would.”
“Is this woman you?”
I pause. “I don’t think I’d ask that of you.”
“Hypothetically.”
“Yeah, okay, this woman is me then. And I’m asking you to give up your Hollywood practical effects dream and come and live with me in Tullamore and get a job in the local insurance firm.”
‘Then yeah, I would.”
“Really?”
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“I wouldn’t be thrilled about it, but yeah, I mean, if that’s what you really wanted from me then I’d probably do it.”
“Wow.”
“Am I being too intense?”
“A bit.”
He shrugs. “Maybe I wouldn’t then. It’s an extreme scenario anyway, I really don’t think you’re going to move back to Tullamore and expect me to become an insurance broker.”
“No,” I agree, “I’m definitely not going to do that. There’s no art scene there anyway, unless I ran some sad art gallery in the town that sells boring paintings of sunflowers in big white jugs and cards made by kids in the local primary schools.”
“So realistically, where are you going? What’s the compromise?’
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“London,” I say, and the word slips from my lips too easily, a dead giveaway to the fact that I’ve thought about this before. Extensively. “I don’t know. I’ve always wanted to live there, it sounds so exciting.”
“I bet there’s a great art scene.”
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“Exactly,” I turn over to face him, and my hand reaches out to clutch on and help him to understand how much I want this. Hypothetically. “I just want somewhere bigger, and better, where you’ll never see the same person twice, not on the street or the bus or the tube, it’s just so fluid and dynamic. I’m obsessed with the idea of being unknown, and yet having this incredible space to create, surrounded by other amazing artists, and there’d be so much to do, I’d never ever be bored. I could go to exhibitions and plays and gigs every night of the week. I would be fabulous… But that’s not the point,” I add self-consciously, “If I wanted to move to London, would you give up your dream to come with me?”
“Still yes, but I wouldn’t have to give up my dream to go to London. I could do the film stuff there.”
Wild, unfettered excitement swells inside me and bursts into a million tiny stars in my chest. “You could,” I realise. “We could both be happy there.”
“Uh huh.”
“Am I being too intense now?”
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“I like intense,” He splits into a grin and we squeeze each other’s hands, and I realise that all of the things that frightened me about him are slowly dissolving, bit by bit. The fear that he will hurt me, disappoint me, leave me behind, if there is any truth of promise now to the expression on his face, I’m suddenly certain that he won’t do any of those things. “For the record, if it was Tullamore I’d be happy too.”
I roll my eyes, “My God, you wouldn’t, why say these things. Nobody is happy there. I can’t even imagine it, you’d be a complete anomaly.”
“I might visit one day and love it, you never know.”
I have an invasive thought of him standing in the low-ceilinged living room of my parents house and shaking hands with my father. I shudder. As though reading my thoughts, Jude says, “Have you told your parents about me?”
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“What? No, of course not,” I say, flipping back onto my front. “I don’t tell them things about my personal life.”
“Why not?”
“Because they’d start trying to find out things about you, and it’s none of their business. I just like to keep things separate, and like, something about having a romantic relationship seems deeply embarrassing. I don’t want them to know that I kiss.”
He laughs, “You’re so interesting.”
“Do your parents know about me?” 
“Of course, you’ve been in their house about twenty times in the last month.”
“Yes but never while they’ve been home.”
“My sister has a big mouth, she tells my mother that I’ve had a girl in my room every evening between six and eight PM.”
My face burns, “Oh God, I bet Colette thinks I’m some sort of hussy.”
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“She doesn’t, I’ve told her that I’ve met someone really special and that she means a lot to me, and she’s confused, because I’ve told her that you’re not actually my girlfriend, we just hang out, but like, in a non-platonic way.”
“Hm. Yes.” I mutter. 
“And I’m like, yeah, fair, that part confuses me too, but it’s alright because I get to make out with her on my bed for like two hours and sometimes she lets me put my hands up her top.”
I am horrified, “You don’t.”
“No, of course I don’t,” He snorts. “What kind of fucked up thing would that be to say to my mother?”
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In the distance, I spot Shane and Claire coming back from the store. Shane has a big two litre bottle of water tucked underneath his arm, but they’ve taken a pit stop to furiously kiss underneath a sun umbrella. I look at the sea cliffs instead, lit up the colour of honey and dotted with patches of dried brush. “Do you think I’m stupid for not being your girlfriend?”
“No, I don’t.”
“At times I think I am.”
“What difference does it make, Evie, it’s just a title.”
“Mm.”
“I think you’re a little afraid of doing things that go against your own personal script, though. I think you don’t like the idea of being a girlfriend, because you’ve never had to do it before, but it’s fine. What we’re doing feels like the same thing, you can call it what you want to call it.” A wounded look comes over his face. “Unless you’re actually not, like, committed to this and you’re currently seeing other people at the same time.”
“What? No, I’m not, when would I even have time? Are you?”
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“Obviously no. It wouldn’t exactly be fair, and it would negate the whole STI test, wouldn’t it? If I was just hooking up with other women.”
“You got a test done?”
“Yeah and, oh, I forgot to tell you, I have everything.”
“Everything?”
“All of the STIs. I have the full deck.”
“Oh, crazy, me too,” We join hands. “We’re so riddled.”
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“It’s worth pointing out that I’m actually clean,” He says with some worry, as though I might in some universe actually believe that he has all of the STIs. “Do with that what you will.”
“Oh, yeah. Cool. Nice,” I say, and turn my face the other way to hide this new blush that’s crept up. 
“Yeah,” He says, “Nice.” 
Beginning // Prev // Next
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effervescentdragon · 1 month
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just remembered that hetalia axis powers exists. gonna go dunk myself into a river and not come out for 4-6 months
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rainbow-nerdss · 1 year
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Forged
Written for @augustwritingchallenge day 17 (Joker prompt) - Western Buddie (pre-relationship), 1.3k Read on AO3
The sun’s high in the sky when Buck steps out for a break. There’s no relief from the heat, though, save from dunking his head in a bucket of water.  He’s just eyeing up the horse’s trough, debating whether or not it’ll be worth it, when he hears a shout coming from the edge of town.
A call for help.
“Bobby!” Buck ducks his head back inside the workshop, and Bobby looks up from the fire he’d been stoking. 
“There’s someone calling for help, I’m gonna go check on ‘em!”
Bobby waves him off, and Buck grabs his hat, setting off in the direction of the shout. He finds a man walking towards him, clothes dirty, opening his mouth to call for help again.
“Hey, whoa!” Buck holds out his hands. “What’s going on here?”
The man sags in relief when he sees Buck, but he quickly pulls himself back upright, shoulders back, not someone to be messed with. 
“What’s all the racket for?” Buck asks, leaning against a fence post.
“My horse,” the man says, a little short of breath. “Threw a shoe about two miles back, by the river, and I can’t—” The man pulls his hat off, runs a hand through his hair before putting the hat back on. He’s got a bit of a drawl, Buck notes — Texas, probably.
“You ran all this way, in this heat, shouting for anyone to hear, for a horse with a thrown shoe?” Buck raises an eyebrow.
The stranger sighs. “I’ve got a kid. A son. He’s—”
“Dad?” Buck hears the kid before he sees him. He’d been hiding behind a wall, but when he steps out, he’s got crutches under his arms. Buck suddenly understands why this guy is so worn out after walking just a mile.
“Christopher!” The stranger warns, and Buck sees the kid duck back behind. 
“Did you carry him all this way?” Buck asks. 
The man closes his eyes, grits his teeth, and nods. 
“Alright,” Buck says. “Here’s what we’re gonna do. Can you come out here, kid?”
The kid waits until his father gives the go-ahead, then hops out towards them. Buck gets down on one knee, to the kid’s eye level. 
“Christopher, right?” he asks. The kid nods. “Well, my name’s Evan, but most people call me Buck. See that building up there?” He points to the forge, then glances up at the stranger with a reassuring smile. 
“I’m a blacksmith’s apprentice,” he says. “So I know a thing or two about shoeing horses. Why don’t you and your dad go up to the workshop there, let my friend Bobby know what’s going on, and I’ll go look after your horse.”
“Bobby’s the blacksmith?” the kid checks.
“He sure is! I’m sure if you ask him nicely, he’ll let you try your hand at the bellows.” 
Buck winks, then tips his hat to the kid’s dad and starts walking towards where the horse was.
“Buck?” he hears the man call after him. Buck turns to him. “Thank you.” 
There’s an emotion in his face Buck’s not quite clear on, but the gratitude is there. 
When Buck gets back, just over an hour later with the horse limping behind him and the packs she’d been hauling on his back, he finds the two strangers sitting in the forge, Christopher laughing over something Bobby’s telling him, his dad standing off to the side, staring down at a glass in his hand like it might hold the answers to some very big questions. 
“Horse is tied up out front,” Buck says, calling attention to himself. 
“I’ll go take a look.” Bobby stands and makes for the door, warning Christopher to stay away from the flames. The kid seems happy where he is, though, playing with one of those wrought iron figurines Bobby makes for the local kids.
The stranger downs the whiskey in his glass and makes his way over to Buck. There’s a glimmer of sweat on his brow, over the red line where his hat had rested.
“I never introduced myself before,” he says. “My name’s Eddie.” 
Buck takes the hand offered to him and shakes it. 
He feels a tug, something inside of him that doesn’t want to let him let go of Eddie’s hand.
Eddie lets go first, stepping back to go check on Christopher.
Buck watches them together with a pang. He��s always wanted that, to be a father, that is. Marriage has never really been on the horizon for him, though. 
Before he can sink too far into melancholy, Bobby comes back, hands him the measurements for a whole new set of shoes for Eddie’s horse and tells him to get to work. 
He grabs his apron, rolls his sleeves up, and starts working. He can feel Eddie’s eyes on him, even as he sends Chris outside to keep him away from the sparks. Buck does call him back just long enough to let him pump the bellows, just once. 
He wraps an arm around the kid, to keep him steady, and points to how the flames bloom under the puff of air. 
“Wow!” Christopher gasps, practically bouncing in excitement. “Did you see that, dad?”
“Sure did, Chris.” Buck lets Chris go, and gets back to heating the iron to be shaped.
He loves working the metal, heating and hammering it into shape, sparks flying, creating something useful or beautiful or both from a hunk of metal.
Soon enough, he has four shoes cast, and he quenches them in a barrel, steam filling the air. He sets them aside to cool the rest of the way. When he turns to Eddie, he sees the other man look away. His face is red, probably from the heat of the forge — god knows Buck himself is about one gust of warm air away from pulling his shirt off and dousing himself in water like the hot iron.
“Ready to go!” he announces. “We’ll have you on your way soon enough.” Buck doesn’t know why he feels a pang as he says those words, why the thought of Eddie and Christopher leaving again is so hard to swallow.
“Yeah, well… We’ll see,” Eddie shrugs. 
“Where were you two headed, anyway?”
Buck leans back against a work table, wiping his brow with a cloth. Eddie’s eyes follow the cloth to where it lands on the floor when Buck tosses it aside. 
“I don’t know, honestly. Just… away.”
Buck knows a lost soul when he sees one — he’d been one for too long not to. He knows it’s probably overstepping, that it’s not really his place to intrude, but he feels like he has to.
“You know, this town has a pretty good schoolhouse. Carla, the teacher, she’s really got a way with kids. And my sister runs an inn just up the way, I can put in a word for you, if you need a place to stay while you find your feet.”
Eddie frowns, doesn’t say anything for long enough for the horseshoes to feel cool to the touch.
“Why?” he asks, finally. Just one word.
Buck shrugs, gathering the horseshoes. “I don’t know,” he says, honestly. “But you seem like a decent fella, and I think the kid would like it here.”
Eddie nods, looking a little to the left of Buck’s face. He looks like he had when Buck found him earlier, a little lost, a little hopeless, desperately trying to hold it together.
“Eddie, look at me,” Buck says, resting a hand right at the junction of his neck and shoulder, trying to emulate Bobby’s reassuring demeanor, the one he’d used to get Buck to settle when he was the one rolling into town desperate for somewhere to call home. “It’s okay. We’ve got you, here. You’ll be okay.”
And when Eddie meets Buck’s eyes — a small, grateful smile on his face — it feels like maybe he didn’t quite match Bobby’s tone, but whatever Eddie saw in his face, it was enough.
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sohannabarberaesque · 6 months
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Postcards from Snagglepuss
Tug-of-war on (and as much over) the Little Pigeon River
ALONG THE LITTLE PIGEON RIVER IN GATLINBURG, TN: On one bank ... The Banana Splits--Bingo, Drooper, Fleegle and Snorky.
And on the other ... the Cattanooga Cats--Country, Groove, Scoots and Kitty Jo.
And myself, Snagglepuss, trying not to get too caught up in the former Laff-a-Lympics personna, with Huckleberry Hound at my side. Not to mention Mildew Wolf, my old color commentary compadre from Laff-a-Lympics days.
Barely two blocks from The Parkway, Gatlinburg's main drag, but off something called the Parkway Bypass, constructed primarily for such concerned about the Corrupting Influence of Certain Touristic Distractions on the Easily-Influenced, children especially ... or wanting a quicker, less-distracting route into Great Smoky Mountains National Park, of which Gatlinburg is its gateway.
"Uh, Snag?" (It was Huckleberry Hound talking.) "I just hope you're not getting too ahead of yourself."
"Uh--apologies, Huck."
"With friends like us, what's there to apologise for?"
At any rate, the rope to be used in said tug-of-war is brought over and one end tossed to The Banana Splits' side, with Bingo catching same and getting such extended so both ends of the rope are about equal length on either side of the Little Pigeon. Which is probably more of a brook at best, but has been known to see its share of flood activity.
Now mind you, this is more or less a "warmup" for some of the other events of the Easter weekend which the Cattanooga Cats, having the artisan coffee house Cattanooga Klatsche in Gatlinburg, are hosting, to culminate on Easter Sunday with the Gatlinburg Easter Parade. A Character Convocation, in a way.
And with some of the curious wondering "what the [N4BSK] is going on here, anyway?!" on seeing such an unlikely tug-of-war in preparation, not to mention Super Snooper and Blabbermouse being brought in to inspect the rope to make sure nothing of the Dick Dastardly brand is ensuing beforehand (as in, say, cutting away at the rope to the point of near-fraying so that such breaks when the teams lest expect it) ...
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Just a little after noon ... things seem a little tense on both banks of the river as both teams await the starter's signal ... the curious can't help but wonder at the inexplicably spontaneous match about to ensue ... Mildew Wolf fires the starter's pistol--and it becomes something of a serious free-for-all, Bingo leading the Splits' side and Groove, considering his bulk, leading for the Cats.
The rope is taut across the Little Pigeon as the teams take hold of same, Snorky honking away in sheer excitement as the whole gets underway, otherwise, cries of "heave-HO! heave-HO!" can be heard from Bingo and Groove directed at their respective sides.
No wonder curious tourists can't help but notice the scene emerging on their samrt phones and record away the same, adding plenty of "WTF?!"-type rejoinders and annotation to their videos as the strain on both teams becomes evident, amusing the crowd even more even as they wonder who will come out victorious.
For some reason, Groove senses a sort of weakness on the Splits' side, and even though Bingo tries his best to lead the Splits onward--it was bound to happen: The Banana Splits lost their grip on the rope for some reason, causing all four to get a silly sort of dunking into the Little Pigeon, prompting Fleegle to indignantly ask of the Cattanooga Cats had some sort of "secret weapon" giving them unfair advantage.
(It will be of interest to note, reader, where Groove is the Cattanooga Cats' jock-type bandmember, on a par with Bingo for the Splits. But at any rate, there was nothing but good-natured jesting, hugging and handshakes between the two when it was all said and done, followed by Groove as much as the Cattanooga Cats treating The Banana Splits to barbecue as Groove cam manage to pull off. It was said the smoke from that barbecue marathon drifted over the Parkway, causing some tourists to wonder if fog or haze had suddenly drifted in along the Parkway. And just imagine Snorky chomping away on the pulled pork barbecue sandwiches in particular, and on egg buns at that!)
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@warnerbrosentertainment @theweekenddigest @artistic-octopus @funtasticworld @iheartgod175 @archive-archives @screamingtoosoftly @thebigdingle @gatlinburgvisitor-blog-blog @themineralyoucrave @thylordshipofbutts @warnerbros-blog1 @indigo-corvus @groovybribri @ultrakeencollectionbreadfan @jellystone-enjoyer @warnerbrosent-blog
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six-of-ravens · 1 year
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Went for a walk in the park this morning! Decided to go a different way than usual (usually I go to this really foresty part and just wander amongst the trees, but this time I figured I'd shake it up) which was kind of a bad idea bc the sun was in my eyes almost the whole time, but I also ended up walking a lot further from the parking lot than usual!
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Discovered the memorial forest I always see while driving but haven't actually been in. Apparently there's a tree there for my mom's friend who died of cancer a long time ago, but I don't know her full name so I couldn't find her on the memorial.
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Saw some gorgeous fall colours on the way back! And then I couldn't figure out which way to go so I passed this couple with a rowdy dog (they were trying to teach it not to react to pedestrians but it was clearly still learning lol) and went up a hill....and discovered that was the wrong way to go, but didn't want to trouble the couple again so instead of going back down the hill I decided to take this extremely sketchy bike path instead:
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My calves are not happy but I didn't fall on my ass so that's a victory!
Then the path disappeared and I was basically stuck on the wrong side of the river. At least I found some pretty moss and a wasp nest (?)
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Eventually I realized I was on the opposite side of the river I always walk past when I go through the foresty part of the park, have always wondered what was on the other side lmao. The answer is a dead-end probably decommissioned bike path and some very thick underbrush (will have to do a really thorough tick check). Couldn't find a bridge (and didn't want to crash through the brush any more than I had to) so I found this improvised stepping stone path and somehow made it across without dunking myself:
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Annnnd eventually made it back to the parking lot!
Can't believe I walked that far in like an hour round-trip, if I walked along the proper sidewalks it would take over an hour. Apparently Fish Creek Park is the secret shortcut to cover large distances through the city lmao.
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