#finance management in France

[classicointerior]

Finance management course in France

[good--merits-accumulated]

(frantically fanning the dying embers of my motivation for the anderperry chocolat au) cmon cmon cmon cmon cmon man

[biglisbonnews]

Smart Energy Finance: Funding for autonomous EV charging and GridBeyond’s acquisition of Veritone Energy Leading Smart Energy Finances: a successful Series A funding round for Rocsys, which has been developing an autonomous EV charging solution https://www.smart-energy.com/finance-investment/smart-energy-finance-funding-for-autonomous-ev-charging-and-gridbeyonds-acquisition-of-veritone-energy/

[yawarakaizai]

pm dazai and pm chuuya who constantly fight each other for readers attention... but then someone hurts reader and all of a sudden they work together so seamlessly to kill the mf who dared to touch you (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

ⵌ YOU'RE QUITE THE SAME IF LOVE'S THE GAIN

SENDER Reader (Fem) RECIPITENT PM!Dazai Osamu + PM!Chuuya Nakahara (BSD) CONTENTS jealousy, reader+chuuya+dazai are 16/17, reader is an heiress, hostage situation, fluff n cute!! (implied) torture, worried chuuya NOTE This wasn't the department you specialised in. You wanted to manage finances, and while Mori was more than happy to grant you the role - Dazai would nag for you to join him and Chuuya on missions that didn't concern you in the slightest. There's only so much patience one can have. COMPANY Tangled Up

A/N THI S WA S RLL Y C UT E !! sorr y this one was l ate ;//; i hav e a scho o l trip tmrw ^^// maybe i'l l t ry sm ut nex t ... i have a l ot of good re qs i ho pe i ca n ge t throu gh the m a ll ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱

Missions with Dazai and Chuuya always resulted in a thrilling adventure. There was never a time you'd look back on a mission you'd had with both and say to yourself, 'that was a bummer.'

You weren't supposed to work alongside them. Within the Port Mafia, Dazai and Chuuya were always to be assigned missions that were too dangerous for someone ordinary.

And, you? Well.

You possessed no ability. Your purpose in the Port Mafia was your background - your status.

Heiress to your father's wealth in your homeland of France, your parents were part of a certain elite group that made you a walking target should you venture without protection.

That is why you were always thrown as the bait.

With all respects to Dazai, that is, who introduced to Mori the idea of having you be the helpless, dumb damsel skipping merrily into danger.

You weren't happy about this arrangement and that was made clear by your sulking.

" Oh, look at me, I am an unattended woman. "

You sluggishly wandered around the dark halls of the abandoned facility, your voice just barely loud enough for the walls to echo your sarcastic jokes.

" This is serioouuuss! " The earpiece cleverly hidden in your ear crackled into life, you knew the voice belonged to Dazai. " Been chasing this guy for ages now, I think he's got some sort of phasing ability. He might appear outta no where, but Chuuya's trailing behind you, so don't worry. "

As if it could ease your nerves, it only made you regret agreeing to this further. " Great. I'm comforted. " You replied in a snarky manner.

You were dressed in lavish clothing that not even your pompous, arrogant mother would ever think of wearing. You seemed to have a distaste for reminders of the generational wealth you possess and opt to distance yourself from a 'royal' life. It proved impossible when it was the only thing that allowed you to maintain a job in the Port Mafia.

The gloomy and cold atmosphere left you hugging yourself for warmth as you traversed through complicated corridors. Although your earpiece was not connected to Chuuya's, you worried that you were walking off-course and/or Chuuya knew where you are meant to go, but could not blow his cover to correct your stupid mistakes.

Chuuya did a pretty good job at staying hidden. You could not hear a thing other than the clacking of your heels against metal flooring. " Ohh.. I'm so scared. " You pitched your voice higher, this being your best shot at luring out whoever it is the PM were after. You weren't taking this seriously, that was clear to both Dazai and Chuuya.

This wasn't the first mission you three were together, there were a few others that you'd two go through but this was the first time you were thrown a seal to a shark.

Dazai was elsewhere in the building, you weren't sure where and he gave no information when asked. With the affirmation Chuuya had your back, you knew that there was nothing to fear.

You would have appreciated some communication on his end though. You figured it must be his unnatural shyness towards you that made it hard for him to be too forward.

You easily noticed how his behaviour would change around you. And with Dazai around? Oh, boy.

Even if you could be a little air-headed sometimes, you weren't dumb to the hints in front of you.

From the day you were rescued from captivity - a story for another day - Chuuya stood out. You find it funny how he'd be unable to face you for more than a minute before looking away hurriedly. It sprung your new-found hobby of teasing Chuuya whenever you could. Of course Dazai picked up on it pretty soon after too and Chuuya has not known peace since. You couldn't help it! You weren't to blame! You giggled to yourself reminding yourself of Chuuya's little crush, fingers intertwined behind your back loosely, your back straightening from its previous hunched-over stance.

Feeling sudden confidence surge through your veins with the recollection of memories with Chuuya, you were just about to turn on your heel to address the gravity manipulator until a hand grabbed you from behind - before you had the chance to see who it was, you felt cold metal press against your temple that made you freeze up.

In front of you, Chuuya had finally revealed himself, but he too was stood as still as stone.

" Kill me 'n the girl goes too. "

They have never let it get THIS bad. Not ever have you ever even been in the hold or this close to an enemy, and here you were at gunpoint, something that was not planned.

You didn't dare break eye contact from Chuuya. This might just be your final moment. With great trust in Chuuya and Dazai's ability, you weren't sure how they'd proceed with this.

Chuuya might end up being the last thing you see. The look of fear on his face too didn't ease your nerves. They were not in the position to bargain. And funnily enough, you blamed yourself for this.

" Fine, yeah. Let her go. " Chuuya stood up from his mid-offensive position and dropped whatever weapon he had. A gun and a small knife for close-combat, he raised his arms above his head to firmly show his surrender. The hand that was previously on your lower hip raised to roughly cover your mouth, a gloved palm shoving itself in your face and that broke you down immediately. Fear took over and your knees went weak with pure fright, yet the man behind you had his fingers digging into the flesh of your cheek with such a harsh grab that it kept you standing up-right, the barrel of the gun pressing in deeper to your skull, sure to leave indents - that is if you weren't just shot dead. Then an indent would be the less of your worries.

With your back pressed against the chest of the stranger, you could feel the vibration of his confident voice as he spoke loudly, " Don't take me for a fool, Nakahara. You could easily use that ability of yours. " And that was true. You actually forgot about Chuuya's ability. Your mind was too foggy at the moment.

It was the first time you saw Chuuya Nakahara look uncertain in whether this mission would end well or not. He smiled insecurely as he let out a gruff exhale, " Wouldn't do that if I wanted her to live, yeah? Now let her go. "

Even if he kept grinning, you could see how the sweat dripped from his face even through your own teary eyes. With the palm pressing over your mouth and nose, it was difficult to breathe and steady your heart that was already beating fast enough as it is.

" Hmm.. " The gun was lowered slowly, caressing down your cheek and to your chest before being positioned at the pit of your stomach, " But do I really wanna? "

You began to squeal in protest, unable to accept your helplessness but it seemed someone else did your job of retaliation for you.

In the blink of an eye, the man holding you captive fell backwards and consequentially dragged you down with him but ended up tripping you up a bit further. You fell with your head banging on the hard floor, your captors hand slipping from your mouth and allowing you to briefly ‎gasp for air. The clattering of a gun was heard somewhere yet you were too dazed to properly do anything at this point.

The last thing you remember was the feeling of being raised from your underarms and distant shouting.

" -as if she'd be able to do-"

" No, you shut up! You could've done something easily. "

" It was your idea to use her as a fuckin' pawn, don't twist this. "

" Uhh! I'm sowwy~! I thought Chuuya Naka-fucking-hara had some balls to intercept~! "

" Zip it! She's waking up! "

Groggily, you stared at the two of them, sitting opposite each-other on the end of your bed. Judging by the bright white, you were most likely in the infirmary.

Chuuya was the first to lean in, he must have not noticed his hand coming to rest over yours which were folded nearly over your stomach. He had hope in his eyes, contrasting with the emotion you last remember them in. " Y/N? " He called out to you, taking a glimpse at the steady heart monitor.

Testing your voice, you let out a low hum before croaking out a meek, " Heya. "

Dazai was the first to break a laugh at your first words. His and Chuuya's eyes were soft.

" Don't look cute, I'm pissed at you both. " You huffed, turning your head to the side, avoiding them both.

Chuuya held your hand a little tighter, he understood if you decided to be unhappy with him. " Sorry, Y/N. I really fucked that up. Shit, I just didn't know what to do. " He explained himself with such compassion you were urged to look at him again. " I guess I discovered seein' you like that. Uh. In trouble and stuff, makes me seize up badly. "

From the corner of your eye you saw Dazai huff before standing up, but Chuuya held onto your attention as he continued speaking tenderly to you, " I thought that this loser would have planned a set-up and knew that was gonna happen but. It took too long. I realised last second he didn't plan shit. "

" Hey! Don't be so rude, Chuuya~ Besides, if it weren't for me, precious princess would've been shot. " You saw Dazai reach into his back pocket for something you couldn't quite recognise yet.

" Oh, that was you, Dazai? " You asked, alluding to the sudden drop during the action. " Yuup~ And y'know what the best part is? "

You quirked a brow and stole a shared glance from Chuuya. Dazai was unexpectable.

" Since me and Chuuya are so nice.. "

So Chuuya was in on this too?

Dazai paused his sentence and hummed in a baby-ish voice. " Kill me and the girl goes too! " He mocked, earning him an earnest giggle from you. " That wasn't funny, Dazai! I was scared! " You retorted, but still couldn't wipe that smile off of your face.

" Sorry, sorry. But, like he wanted, he's not dead. "

Dazai held the object he had pulled out in front of him. Bloodied priars.

" Technically death caused by unattended injuries is not 'killing him' on MY end, isn't that right, Chuuya? "

Chuuya nod his head before you.

They have that man locked in a fucking basement.

©yawarakaizai 2023 ﹒﹒ reblogs appreciated! requests open :3

[historia-vitae-magistras]

How do you feel about nation jobs or finances in your universe? Like are modern Matt or Alfred on government payroll even if they don’t do anything? I know you’re mentioned that Alfred is better at managing his money than Matt, is he rich??

Sorry I’m not phrasing this very well 😅

This is somewhat esoteric even for me, but I tied their abilities with money to their economic histories.

Alfred was born looking pretty pathetic next to the Spanish possessions in Mexico and South America or even British holdings in the Caribbean but, in short order, made up a significant percentage of the ships, people, and wealth of the British Empire. He became that on what was primarily the efforts of private enterprise. Alfred grows up understanding he is valuable; he represents value, and his choices create value. He's easy to love because he's a goddamn cash cow for Arthur until the Seven Years War when Britain spent a shit ton and wanted the Yanks to pay their share, and we threw a bitch fit and declared independence.

Matt, however, has the French bitching about what a money hole he is from about 20 minutes after he comes into being. The Basque, by far, made the most money initially with their fishing and whaling in the east, following what was reasonably similar to the Viking routes into Newfoundland. The fur trade that drove French settlement faced collapse about a half dozen times in his childhood, and besides a short binge economy for Ginseng and its brief boom in China, his entire existence was just fur. Dead beavers and the black market. That's it.

While the US was building ships, growing cash crops, running a fur trade economy, engaging in fishing, rope making, pitch collection, barrel making and everything and anything else, in the Caribbean, they had 90+ control over sugar production and trade routes. Canada had 10% of the population and thus 10% of the market power. We didn't do shit except freeze, fire at the British, commit war crimes against the New Englanders, ditch the farms and run off to the west to make families with indigenous women and run furs up the rivers to the point that France tried to make it illegal for people to leave the settlements of Quebec City and Montreal without permission.

So from a relatively early point, Alfred is very smart with his investments, and he's been making his investments since the early 19th century, so there's a significant but often catastrophically destroyed habit of investing. When he was younger and incredibly newly independent, he got fleeced a few times, but he's called smart and secure, especially since the 1929 crash. It's not remarkably large amounts of money because he'll never completely trust the government, and he doesn't want to attract attention or pay massive amounts of taxes, so he's very well diversified. But he's certainly not poor. All his more expensive hobbies come from a particular office in the state department that Alfred sometimes cooperates with and sometimes doesn't, depending on how anti-establishment he and the public feel.

As for Matt, having spent a lot longer as a colonial subject, it's not that he's entirely shit with money but what he knew how to do. The heart of the empire was the financial hub and was outside his control long after even the Confederation in the 1860s. The money situation has been a nightmare since the earliest days of the French Regime using playing cards to pay people. Colonial America had some similar issues. The whole concept of the US dollar originated in the 1690 invasion of Quebec when the Massachusetts Bay Colony printed its own money to fund the expedition, but Alexander Hamilton did some flash economic magic for the US in this department in the 1790s, so it got its shit together long before Canada. Matt knows what he needs to know. He was stationed in various Canadian ports, keeping an eye on his father's investments, not his own.

So, in the modern day, Alfred reads his bank statements every month, keeps track of his subscriptions and bills, and probably has an accountant. Matt is more aware of Alfred's money habits than his own. Because he's over here just kind of vaguely wondering if his debit card will work because my man cannot make heads or tails of his economy (no, seriously, Canadian economists have no idea how Canada's own shit works. Sometimes it's pretty fascinating, there's often no real consensus like the US academic economist have.) And international investors in Canada are always freaking out because the Canadian economy is always getting its shit rocked by the US economy. It's hilarious to think of people in Matt's life frustratedly trying to figure out where and what his money's doing. If their health is tied to their economies, Matt's in pretty good shape, thanks to close ties to the US, but he's randomly dying reasonably often because the US economy's tiny little ripples will randomly tear him apart. It's pretty funny (laughs so I don't sob in the Canadian job market.)

And that's pretty fitting, considering that most Canadian economic policy is boiled down to 'hope the Americans are feeling cooperative next time NAFTA comes up for debate.'

[aloneandforsakenbyfateandbyman]

will you get to see your man in France this summer? I hope so as your international adventures together are always so beautiful and look fun💕

Yess so that time is almost here! I’m going to the French Riviera next month to see my boyfriend after being apart for almost a year.

We blew a ton of cash after half a year in Southeast Asia and it took time to financially recoup but whatever I don’t regret it. Somehow we manage to bounce back from everything but I don’t recommend long distance relationships in general unless you’re super patient bc working out the logistics and finances is a pain in the ass.

Anyways it’s my 5th time in France but I still haven’t went to Paris yet! Because he lives in Nice. We’re going to Morocco and then visiting a few countries in Europe and may finally get married soo I’m excited it’s my first time visiting Africa this will be interesting! I’ll have a lot to share from next month onwards bc I’m going Indiana Jones mode again and travelling for 6+ months like a crazy person.

[rjzimmerman]

Excerpt from this story from Mother Jones:

The world’s 3,000 billionaires should pay a minimum 2 percent tax on their fast-growing wealth to raise about $313 billion a year for the global fight against poverty, inequality, and global heating, ministers from four leading economies have suggested.

In a sign of growing international support for a levy on the super-rich, Brazil, Germany, South Africa, and Spain say a 2 percent tax would reduce inequality and raise much-needed public funds after the economic shocks of the pandemic, the climate crisis and military conflicts in Europe and the Middle East.

They are calling for more countries to join their campaign, saying the annual sum raised would be enough to cover the estimated cost of damage caused by all of last year’s extreme weather events.

“It is time that the international community gets serious about tackling inequality and financing global public goods,” the ministers say in a Guardian comment piece. “One of the key instruments that governments have for promoting more equality is tax policy. Not only does it have the potential to increase the fiscal space governments have to invest in social protection, education, and climate protection. Designed in a progressive way, it also ensures that everyone in society contributes to the common good in line with their ability to pay. A fair share contribution enhances social welfare.”

Brazil chairs the G20 group of leading developed and developing countries and put a billionaire tax on the agenda at a meeting of finance ministers earlier this year.

The French economist Gabriel Zucman is now fleshing out the technical details of a plan that will again be discussed by the G20 in June. France has indicated support for a wealth tax and Brazil has been encouraged that the US, while not backing a global wealth tax, did not oppose it.

Zucman said: “Billionaires have the lowest effective tax rate of any social group. Having people with the highest ability to pay tax paying the least—I don’t think anybody supports that.”

Research from Oxfam published this year found that the boom in asset prices during and after the Covid pandemic meant billionaires were $3.3 trillion—or 34 percent—wealthier at the end of 2023 than they were in 2020. Meanwhile, a study from the World Bank showed that the pandemic had brought poverty reduction to a halt.

The opinion piece, signed by ministers from two of the largest European economies—Germany and Spain—and two of the largest emerging economies—Brazil and South Africa—claims a levy on the super-rich is a necessary third pillar to complement the negotiations on the taxation of the digital economy and the introduction earlier this year of a minimum corporate tax of 15 percent for multinationals.

“The tax could be designed as a minimum levy equivalent to 2 percent of the wealth of the super-rich. It would not apply to billionaires who already contribute a fair share in income taxes. Those, however, who manage to avoid paying income tax would be obliged to contribute more towards the common good,” the ministers say.

“Persisting loopholes in the system imply that high-net-worth individuals can minimize their income taxes. Global billionaires pay only the equivalent of up to 0.5 percent of their wealth in personal income tax. It is crucial to ensure that our tax systems provide certainty, sufficient revenues, and treat all of our citizens fairly.”

[kemetic-dreams]

Lucien Victor Alexis (1887-1981)

Not very much is known of Lucien Alexis’ early childhood in New Orleans, but what is known are the achievements he would make in later years to come. Born on July 8, 1887 to Louis Victor and Alice Saucier Alexis, he was educated in the local schools where he excelled academically. Alexis was determined to attend Harvard University. Not having the finances to do so, he began working in 1907(at the age of twenty) as a railway mail clerk, saving for the education he so desperately desired.

By the time he reached twenty-seven, he had set aside enough money for four years of college. He applied and was accepted at Harvard but was asked to attend (for one year) Phillips Exeter Academy in New Hampshire, a prestigious preparatory high school. While at Exeter, he lived in the home of Mr. H.F. Quimby and soon developed a keen interest in foreign languages and the sciences. By now he had only enough money for three years upon entering Harvard, so he managed by graduating “cum laude” a year early (1917). It was there, at Harvard, that he earned the nickname: “The Negro Einstein.”

That same year, Alexis entered Officers’ Training School in Des Moines, Iowa and was commissioned as a 1st lieutenant and assigned to the 367th Infantry on October 15, 1917. World War I was raging in Europe and Alexis sailed for service in France on June, 1918. Two months before departing, Alexis married Rita Holt in Gulfport, Mississippi and together they would have one son, Lucien Victor Alexis Jr.

Upon returning to New Orleans, Alexis took up the profession of teaching. He was assigned to McCarthy Elementary in 1921 and appointed Assistant Principal in 1923 at Willow Elementary. But his greatest reward came in 1926 when he became principal of McDonogh #35, the only public high school opened for the education of colored students in the city of New Orleans. For the next nearly 30 years, he would leave an indelible mark on this institution which is still being echoed by many of his formal students up to the present day.

“It was not unusual to spot our principal walking up and down the corridors of the Rampart Street School reading scientific works printed in German. Noted for his mastery of Latin, he often found time to instruct advanced classes in the subject.” (Class of 1936)

Other graduates affectionately tell stories of his successful administration but also his dreadful “army”. Being a former military man, Lucien was said to be strict but fair as well as famous for his method of disciplining students. Students who violated his dress or discipline code were forced to join Alexis’ “army” and ordered to march up and down the second floor of the school building.

Respect for Mr. Alexis soon extended beyond the school grounds and into the community. Since McDonogh #35 was located on South Rampart and Girod Streets, the students had to pass through a neighborhood of sleazy bars, houses of prostitution and various other vices. Often the girls were meddled by men on the way going and coming from school. Fortunately, once it was known that you were an “Alexis” girl, you were never meddled again. They respected Mr. Alexis and knew to show respect to his students.

The “Negro Einstein” did not give up his interest and love for science once he became principal. For five years he engaged in serious scientific study and soon published a 40 page brochure outlining his principles of a new theory which he termed his “ethonic” theory.

From 1929 to 1937, he published the following scientific articles: Fundamentals in Physics & in Chemistry, The Thermo-Electric Formula, The Riddle of the Magnetic Field, An Empirical Disclosure of the Fallacies of Relativity, A Counter-Deduction from Bent Alpha Tracks, Radiations-Their Loci of Travel and Their Loci of Origin, The Co-Origin of Gravity&Cosmic Rays, Simple Formulae for Measuring Atoms, Their Speed, and the Speed of Light.

Upon retirement, the brilliant educator and published author opened Straight Business School on North Claiborne near Esplanade Avenue and Mrs. Alexis basically ran it. Lucien Alexis also was president of the Supreme Industrial Life Insurance Company, founder and executive director of the School of Post-Modern Science in New Orleans, and a charter member of Sigma Lambda Chapter of Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity.

Alexis also spent a great deal of time on his favorite hobbies at home. On the 25th Anniversary of his graduation from Harvard, he told the Harvard press of these hobbies:

“Don’t interfere with my physics and chemistry, which I have raised from the ignoble position of a hobby into the dignified status of a science. Don’t interfere with my Italian which I have picked up since leaving you fellows. Don’t interfere with my German, my French, or my Spanish which I have kept plugging at. These are my near hobbies. You may interfere with my gardening and my frequent efforts at directing operettas, especially the Gilbert and Sullivan ones, for there you are in the field of real hobbies of mine.”

Lucien Alexis passed away December 18, 1981. He is buried in the family’s tomb in St. Louis Cemetery No.3.

[soon-palestine]

That Haiti was forced to pay indemnity in 1825 at the threat of French gunboat bombardment and invasion, a payment it only managed to repay in 1947, has to be the most criminally-insane thing ever done by one country towards another.

And how the National City Bank of New York (now citigroup) convinced then-US president Woodrow Wilson to invade and occupy Haiti in 1915 and take control of Haiti's finances, such that City Bank would end up controlling the ENTIRETY of Haiti's state treasury.

By 1922, Haiti was paying indemnity not to France, but to CITY BANK and a consortium of crooked American investors. 40% of Haiti's national income went into the accounts of this one bank.

[mariacallous]

Something strange is going on with Israel, writes Elie Barnavi, a former Israeli ambassador to France and a prominent historian and writer, in his autobiography Confessions d’un bon à rien: In less than a century his country “has gone through the entire sequence of European wars, but in reverse order.” 

Barnavi’s book (which has not been translated into English) was published in 2022. He could not have known at the time that a furious war between Israel and Hamas would erupt in late 2023. Even so, his analysis of Israel getting involved in Europeans wars “but in reverse order” is perfectly applicable to the war now raging in Gaza. To be sure, his vision is pitch dark: Israel’s wars are getting worse, in Barnavi’s view. Therefore, the potential for further escalation of the Gaza war in the wider region is considerable. 

What exactly does it mean to have European wars in reverse order? In Europe, religious wars raged on for most of the 16th and 17th centuries, fought between Catholics and protestants and their regional, princely or city-state backers. The situation only changed after the Peace of Westphalia, in 1648, a double peace treaty that put an end to both the Thirty Years’ War in the Holy Roman Empire and the Eighty Years’ War between Spain and the Dutch Republic. From then on, states became the predominant actors in international politics. They certainly fought terrible wars, but also managed to contain and prevent them through peace conferences—the Concert of Vienna (1814-15) for example—where European powers guaranteed non-interference in each other’s spheres of influence. Finally, interstate wars in Europe stopped altogether after the Second World War, at least among member states of what has become the European Union. 

Israel, Barnavi argues, took the opposite trajectory. Israel’s wars began as battles between states: the Jewish state against neighboring Arab states, involving one national army fighting another. This interstate warfare ended with the Yom Kippur War in 1973. After that, Israel no longer fought large-scale wars against other states and instead mainly fought Palestinian guerrillas. Even in that new phase, however, the Israeli-Palestinian conflict remained a conflict between two nations, two national movements, over the same piece of land. Because of the Israeli occupation of the West Bank and the Gaza strip, this struggle—which is raging still today—took on a colonial dimension.  

Beyond that, crucially, the war has changed in character. On both sides, politics and society are now deeply divided. Both in Israel and Palestine, the main internal division is between those who are secular and those who are religiously motivated. On both sides, the religious camp seems to be getting the upper hand. 

Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, Politico wrote recently, is “losing control” of his government because his far-right, religious coalition partners are uncompromising and pushing their way. For instance, the Israeli Minister of Finance, Bezalel Smotrich, and Minister of National Security, Itamar Ben-Gvir—who both live in Israeli settlements in the West Bank—have publicly called for “migration” of Palestinians from Gaza and building new Israeli settlements there, and have referred to Palestinians as “human animals” and “Nazis.” Despite U.S. pressure, they have also refused to transfer tax revenues that Israel routinely collects for the Palestinian Authority to the government in Ramallah, Palestine’s de facto administrative capital. Netanyahu obviously no longer controls his own ministers. His religious coalition partners know he will not fire them. If he does, the government would fall and the prime minister, who faces charges on three cases of fraud, bribery and breach of trust, would lose the immunity that currently keeps him out of reach of the judiciary. 

On the Palestinian side, things are no better. For many Palestinians, 88-year old Palestinian President Mahmoud Abbas has lost all credibility. Under his 19-year tenure, the Palestinian cause and the fight against the Israeli occupation have largely disappeared from the international agenda. Hamas puts them back on that agenda. A December 2023 poll showed that Hamas’s popularity was actually growing—even among secular Palestinians who normally do not support Hamas and condemn the Oct. 7, 2023, massacres. This result should be seen as a sign of utter political despair; they have lost hope that less extremist leaders can achieve a just peace with Israel. 

In this way, what used to be a national conflict is increasingly turning into a religious conflict. Barnavi, who has studied Europe’s religious wars extensively as a scholar, writes: “The growing power of fundamentalists on both sides drags us back to the pre-modern, pre-Westphalian era—to the religious wars in Europe of the second half of the 16th century and the first half of the 17th century.” 

This is bad news. Europe’s wars of religion were terrible. Everybody was fighting everybody, and there was no restraint in warfare. The French 16th-century philosopher Michel de Montaigne lived through them and wrote about them in his Essays. These wars led him to develop his theory of political governance and change through “petits pas” (little steps) instead of revolutionary, sweeping movements, so as to contain extremism and bloodshed. If religious lunatics have their way, he noted, compromises are no longer possible.  

Barnavi, without mentioning Montaigne, seems to come to the same conclusion. Two countries can negotiate a deal, he argues in his memoirs, with both settling for less than they originally demanded, using rational considerations. But two camps that deeply believe God has given them the land are incapable of doing this, because it requires them to renege on the fundament on which their faith and identity are based. 

The question whether Israel and the Palestinians can get their stranded peace process back on track thus depends less and less on negotiations between both sides—which was the case 30 years ago, resulting in the Oslo peace accords—and more and more on the struggle within the two camps between secular and religious parties. The more intense these internal power struggles become, the less likely the peace process can be put into motion again. This means, of course, that it also becomes more likely that the conflict will be settled militarily.  

European religious wars were eventually stopped because of the emergence of the modern, relatively secular state capable of compromise; its claims of the raison d’état eventually prevailed. The religious war in the Middle East, by contrast, is currently intensifying because the state (or the national movement, on the Palestinian side, which also used to be secular in character) is becoming weaker. 

If both sides are unable to broker a compromise, someone else needs to make sure things don’t spiral out of control, with Israel’s neighbors and other regional powers, including Iran (which is a theocracy itself), getting more directly involved. One can only hope that intensive diplomatic efforts, mainly by the United States and some Gulf states, behind the screens will eventually bear fruit. But thanks to books such as Barnavi’s, one thing is becoming increasingly clear: Compromise is now harder than ever.

[aedesluminis]

"De sable à un bâton pastoral d'argent, à la fasce d'azur brochant sur le tout, chargée de deux roses d'or"

It's with these words that Charles D'Hozier describes the family crest of Prieur de la Côte-d'Or, of which is possible to see a picture in the tome Armorial général de France - Généralité de Bourgogne:

Jacques Prieur, the great grandfather of the future member of the National Convention and Committee of Public safety, was employed as a sort of manager and tax collector for the salt warehouse in Chalon-sur-Saône.

Despite belonging to the lowest ranks, Prieur's family was indeed part of the noblesse de robe. However it's important to mention that his father, Noël, was forced in 1767 to sell his "charge de finance" in a vain attempt to repay the debts, his dissolute life was the consequence of. I'm not sure if one could still be considered a noble if they decided to sell the license that actually gave them access to the nobility though a profession in the juridic or financial field.

[my-deer-history]

Do you think Laurens would have been a good dad if he met Frances?

"Good" is such a loaded term here, because what that meant back then and what it means now differ in a few significant ways. Overall, I think John Laurens would have done all of the things that were required of him as a parent, so in that way, my answer is yes - he would probably have been a good father by the standards of his day. But let’s explore a little more deeply what that would actually have meant.

The primary duties of a father in the 18th century included financially supporting his family, providing moral or spiritual guidance, educating his children, and instilling the proper virtues and values that would guarantee a successful life. While fathers generally focused more of their attention on their sons, especially where it came to education, this was not a firm rule, and it was not unheard of for daughters to be actively raised and educated by their fathers.

John would have had a good role model for single-fatherhood from his own father. After Eleanor Laurens died in 1770, Henry took on the responsibility of raising and educating his children himself. His focus, unsurprisingly, was on his sons. But although Martha and Mary Eleanor did not join their father and brothers on the 1771 journey to England to further the boys' education, Henry also arranged tutors for them and encouraged their focus on intellectual pursuits in tandem with learning the skills and crafts that women were expected to know. Martha especially was known to be intelligent and curious.

John also had plenty of first-hand experience in some of the practicalities of raising children, since he had been assigned to manage his brothers' education, finances and living arrangements while abroad - not to mention the supervisory role he played for his cousin, Molsy Bremar, and various other young South Carolinians in the Laurens's orbit, like Jackie Petrie. This responsibility came with plenty of instructions from Henry, but John carried out these duties well, and his judgement was trusted.

But what precisely might John have done if a six-year-old Frances was delivered to his doorstep in 1783?

I highly doubt that John would have taken on the full scope of parental duties himself. For one, he would just not have had the time in between finishing his studies, getting involved in politics, securing an income stream in the wake of his family’s ruined finances, supporting his younger siblings and sick father, and so on. Additionally, he would not have felt he was equipped to provide the guidance Frances should get from her mother. So I suspect that Frances would have ended up precisely where she did - in the care of her aunt Martha - with John playing a guiding and supervisory role over critical points of her education and upbringing, while leaving the rest of the childcare to his sister. This arrangement would have been considered normal and sensible, and would have provided Frances with the stable home life she is unlikely to have found at her father’s side.

As for the emotional connection John would have felt, which certainly would have been part of the "good father" package, it's hard to speculate. John was considerate, loving and affectionate to his siblings, even to his youngest sister, whom he barely knew - but he did not always show compassion to his cousin Molsy, or to his wife. And Frances herself barely warrants a single mention in his surviving correspondence.

On balance, I do think he would have made an effort to show love and care to Frances, but whether it would have been a genuine feeling or just an expression of his duty and values is not something I think we will ever know.

[aita-blorbos]

Am I The Asshole for not telling my QPP that I (sort of) came back from the dead?

My Queer Platonic Partner (4595 M), who I'll call F, and I (~300k M) got together in the late eleventh century, and we've basically been married since the sixteenth century. (Not legally, obviously, but we lived together and pooled our finances and all that.)

While doing some spy work in France during WWII (on behalf of the Allies) I got another future vision showing me getting killed by this cult of weird supernatural obsessed rich people, and I could tell it would happen sometime in the next year or so. Now, there are ways to shift small details of the stuff I see in my future visions, but I'm pretty sure trying to change anything too major would break the fabric of spacetime, if you could even manage to make a change in the first place, so I accepted pretty quickly that my demise was inevitable and started making preparations (writing a will, etc.)

Obviously after all this time I know F pretty well, and he tends to struggle dealing with grief; most of his friends are other immortals and he only really interacts with mortals professionally. I also know there would be absolutely no way he would just accept the fact that my death is inevitable, and would end up spending the next however-long-I-had-left trying to find a solution and would probably really beat himself up about it when he failed.

On top of that, telling other people too much about my visions tends to lead to bad stuff happening (like an immortal cult leader/dictator from my home dimension, who we'll call C, massacring 60+ planets, attempting to take over Earth multiple times, and basically turning his kid into a living weapon), so I don't tend to tell people about them, a boundary which F knows about and usually respects.

So basically, I didn't tell F what I saw. I got kidnapped, he tried to rescue me but was a bit too late, I bled out after getting stabbed by a magic sword, etc., etc. Now, when people of my species die, we get reincarnated. We're reborn in an entirely new body, and with our memories suppressed, we grow into entirely new people with entirely new experiences. You keep your magic powers and basically stop aging around 20, but that's about it. It's a bit different for humans for slightly complicated deific political reasons, I think? F knows this because I told him about it at some point.

After I died, the wife (? F) of one of F's old friends showed up and told me she was Death and that C was gonna try to invade Earth again at some point in the future and my help would be needed, so she was willing to let me sort of... stick around in my reincarnation (now 78 NB)'s brain. So obviously I agreed.

My reincarnation, E, was born somewhere in the US shortly after I died. For context, F and I previously lived in the UK. I hung back for most of E's childhood because I wanted to let them live their own life, but I did help them out a few times with bullies and shitty teachers and stuff. (They're queer and neurodivergent and grew up in the 50s, so they didn't exactly have the best childhood).

There wasn't exactly a whole lot I could do to contact F when E was younger, and even when they got older, there still wasn't much I could do without fucking up their life, so basically I spent several decades only showing up when E was asleep or everyone involved was super high, so even E didn't know I existed.

Sometime around the early 80s E started getting into superhero stuff, which isn't really my cup of tea, so I ended up sorta taking a nap for a few decades. I woke up in the mid 2010s to find out that F and E had apparently become friends? Again, I don't want to mess up either of their lives, and it seemed to me like F had moved on, so I continued hiding.

Recently, C started trying to invade earth again, so I started sneaking out at night to try to stop them with the help of R (18 NB/M?), the literal only other person who knew I existed. (He accidentally ran into me getting a late night snack while breaking into E's house for prank reasons. It's a long story.) We ended up running into some other people, including F's dad (4622 F), so eventually a total of like, 4 people knew about my existence. None of them knew I was me, as in F's dead ex QPP/E's past life. Fortunately, I was able to convince everyone not to tell E or F about me.

Fast forward to a couple months ago, C launched a full scale attack on the city where basically everyone involved in this mess lives. I won't go into too many details, but during the attack E ended up getting hit with a "sleeping spell" which basically just knocked them out, leaving me in control of the body by default. My fighting style is pretty different than E's, so F recognized me almost immediately.

We ended up getting into a pretty big argument about me not telling him I was still around, during which I ended up finding out that after I died he basically lost all faith in humanity and tried to destroy the world a couple times, and he basically admitted he still wasn't over my death, but he was also really pissed at me for not telling him that I was still around. I tried to explain but F still insisted I should have told him. We're both fairly stubborn and quick to anger, so the argument ended up getting a bit out of hand, and now we aren't talking to one another. I understand why he's angry, but I still feel like I didn't have any other choice.

Am I The Asshole?

(Side Note: E is now aware I exist and is trying to act as a mediator. They understand my reasoning for not outright telling them, and had a pretty good laugh over all the signs of my existence that they missed, but F is still pissed on their behalf about me not telling them.)

[oflights]

hi allie! i love all your fics and for the prompt request i would really like something in the make this leap universe. anything, really but if it could involve more food making by draco i’d be really happy. i love food and cooking and that fic is probably one of my favorites ever. but again, it can be whatever you feel live writing! thank you!

hi!! i'm so sorry this took forever; i've started this a few different times and just never quite got going with it. i started writing this version in my head during jury duty today, though, so i was excited to get it down when i got home!!

this is 1.2k words (😭 it's not funny anymore!) of extremely sappy, domestic married fluff in the Make This Leap universe. enjoy!!

Draco finds the cookbook when he’s digging around in the Potter vault for Harry’s birthday.

Shared access to vaults hadn’t gone unmentioned when they’d first married—there were some tender memories there for Draco in particular. But they’d been successful business partners first, already mingling finances, and Harry had been very cheerful and upfront about it: “What’s mine is yours, but most of the good stuff went into the restaurant that burned down, so there’s not much there.”

Beyond gold, which Draco is lucky and successful enough to not have to care about, the Potter vault does have some interesting items that Harry had seemed to lack the emotional wherewithal to really catalog. Draco doesn’t blame him, has never pushed it, and thought it rather lucky as he was considering Harry’s birthday present. The plan was to find some heirloom he could restore, to tell him that if he ever wants to find the emotional wherewithal, Draco will be there to support him.

He finds the cookbook instead.

A good portion of it isn’t in English, which is exciting—Draco loves getting to mess about with Translation Charms—and Draco lacks cultural context for much of it, utterly unable to relate to generations of an immigrant family trying to keep traditions alive through food as much as possible even through countless changes. He still pores over it eagerly, captivated by notes in English in some of the later recipes, itching to try some.

He doesn’t know if he can get an actual birthday present out of this or if it’s just a cooking project he wants to nerd out about, but he tells himself the goal is the former to justify the latter. He stays late a few nights at the restaurant, practicing some of the simpler recipes, realizing he has no idea what he’s doing and if he’s doing anything right at the same time he realizes he doesn’t care, is just having a good time experimenting.

He feeds only some of it to Harry, not telling him what he’s doing or where the recipes are coming from, just telling him he’s trying new things and is charmed by all the vegetarian options. Harry also lacks cultural context, which is demonstrably more tragic, and Draco stops feeding him the experiments the more that tragedy reveals itself. Instead, he starts asking around for help.

In the past, Draco’s learned French cooking in France, Italian cooking in Italy, Eastern European cooking in Eastern Europe, Cambodian cooking in Cambodia—but he can’t exactly hop over to modern day Pakistan for lessons without his husband knowing about it. So he puts feelers out through his network of chefs with what turns out to be a very heartwarming story: he wants to cook the food in this cookbook for his half-Desi husband, and he has no idea what he’s doing.

It gains some traction—fucking Sebastian Quantrill has the nerve to write Draco about doing a story for it when he catches wind, resulting in some extremely colorful threats amidst his denial should Harry find out before Draco’s ready; Sebastian writes back that this is usually the point where Harry threatens to obliviate him, to which Draco responds that obliviate is the least of Sebastian’s worries from Draco, and after that doesn’t hear another word from him—and it takes time, as these things do.

But eventually Draco manages to schedule a few lessons a week with a retired chef through her daughter, who has to translate for them. The chef, a tiny Pakistani woman named Maryam who isn’t taller than Draco’s shoulder and calls him a name her daughter refuses to translate every time he asks for measurements of something, had run a hole-in-the-wall takeaway place straddling the Muggle and magical world for years with her husband, closing it up only when he’d passed.

Draco loves her immediately, and thinks the eventual real birthday present might be introducing her to Harry. Cooking with her is a genuine joy, reveling in the way she shoves him out of her path and laughs at his failed attempts at perfecting his puri after professing to be excellent at flatbreads.

They’re some of the best cooking lessons he’s ever had, if only because one of the conclusions he comes to is that he’ll never be good at this the way Maryam is, and that all he can do is give it a good enough try. “That’s what love is,” she tells him through her daughter, who is tearing up a bit. “A good enough try. As good as you can give.”

It’s the sort of lesson Draco wishes he could’ve had when he was younger, throwing himself into being the best chef he could possibly be because it felt like the only way to be as different as he possibly could be from the kid he’d been growing up.

Draco is a chef, though, so he cooks up what he thinks is a good enough try for Harry’s birthday breakfast: halwa puri (with his best puri yet, starting at sun-up to get it right) with a potato and chickpea curry he’d gotten as close to perfect as possible. These were the recipes with the most notes in English in the cookbook, the most described failures to learn from, so Draco’s excited.

Harry lights up when he comes downstairs, and Draco’s heart swells—Harry’s enthusiasm for his cooking hasn’t faded in all these years, and Draco just loves him for it. “This is all—” Harry starts, sitting down and studying dishes, blinking a bit as Draco whips out the cookbook and drops it carefully in front of him.

“The recipes are from this,” Draco says, dragging his seat around to Harry’s side of the table and leaning over the book to show him the right pages. “I took some lessons—”

“Draco,” Harry says, his voice a little wet. Draco ducks a grin into Harry’s shoulder; he loves his sappy husband who gets weepier as they age.

“Shut up, I had no idea what I was doing. I’ll introduce you to my teacher, you’ll love her—but these are fundamentally family recipes. She could teach you too, if you want, we could do it together, and use this—”

“This is my mum’s handwriting,” Harry says in wonder, looking down at some of the scribbled English notes. Draco’s eyes widen, feeling a little silly that this had never occurred to him, and he gives a short laugh.

“Well, great minds, then.”

“Wait—that bit’s my dad’s, I think.” Harry squints down at it, Draco leaning over to join him in squinting, his own reading glasses stubbornly abandoned on the bedside table for the sake of vanity.

“I should’ve known; it’s barely legible, like yours.”

“They cooked together, too,” Harry says. He looks up with a sniff, catches Draco squinting, kisses his crinkled brow and whispers “Accio Draco’s reading glasses. You vain git.”

“Nice, that’s nice—after I cooked you this amazing breakfast—”

“You’re amazing,” Harry tells him, shaking his head. “You’re—you took lessons.”

“I wanted to get it right!”

“You’re a professional chef!”

“I’m whiter than snow—” His glasses smack him in the side of the head, then, making Harry burst out laughing, making Draco join in, warm and in their kitchen, a good enough try spread out on their table.

[tanadrin]

One thing that strikes me about Roman statecraft specifically (though this applies to a lot of states of the period) is just how fragile they are. They have no extended apparatus of government; they rely on rich office holders to fund a lot of state functions (and those officeholders explicitly require spoils from what the state collects in return); officers either have tons of power or very little, and execute their functions not as a team but as, like, Judge Dredd figures entirely on their own, unless another officer happens to be nearby who can overrule them; you can't separate civil leadership from religious leadership from military command, and the latter frequently isn't just enough to give you the other two, it's almost explicitly the basis for having the other two.

Even pre-French Revolution early modern states feel more stable than this! The ancien regime in France could effectively delegate, didn't require the king to be present on the battlefield, could manage complex colonial operations, and had a robust system of public finances (well, not that robust in the end--but in theory!). If I wanted to go back in time to prevent the fall of Rome, more useful than guns or antibiotics or lead testing kits would be modern notions of bureaucracy. Maybe a notion of legitimacy of power that doesn't rely on who a gang of drunk soldiers were most recently convinced to cheer for.

And in a way I'm sympathetic to Caesar and to Augustus; the roadblocks to reform in the Roman state make the modern US look positively flexible: there are a thousand veto points, everything has to be done in person, the interest groups are even more deeply entrenched in the basic function of everything from the army to public works, and the voting system is even more crazily and arbitrarily weighted. But since this was what republicanism was to the Romans, it feels like that a lot of political actors felt like their only two options were a) this hodgepodge system that seems designed to not only not produce compromise but actively inhibit any consideration of it, or b) monarchy, or its close equivalent.

[nordleuchten]

Hello! What was Lafayette's social status at the end of his life? Didn't the French Revolution do away with the entire aristocratic system or something so was he still technically a marquis? Did he still have a huge annual income? I think Adrienne was able to reclaim their confiscated land so I assume they could collect rent that way, but how would that and their general standing in society compare to their days in the ancien regime? Sorry for so many questions, I’m just so curious haha. Thank you for being such a great resource!

Dear Anon,

no need to apologize, I like getting asks. :-) So let us get right to it!

Yes, La Fayette was, at the end of his life, still a Marquis – or rather again. The French Revolution saw the abolishment of the monarchy and of noble titles alike. This was an idea that La Fayette very much promoted and supported so he did not mind the abolishment in and on itself. Later under Napoléon and then during the Bourbon Restoration, noble titles were given back, and new ones were created. La Fayette’s son Georges inherited his father’s title and his son then in turn inherited the titles from Georges. The line ended there because the family ran out of male heirs at this point. But although La Fayette was a Marquis again, he had a marked preference for the address General La Fayette – a nod to his republican tendencies and his military career. It was moreover a title that he had earned himself and that had the same meaning for his friends all around the world.

It is true that Adrienne managed to reclaim most of the family’s property through different methods and strategies. But there was also a lot that she could not get back, especially in terms of items of value that the family had once owned. The years that Adrienne and La Fayette were in prison had cost the family a great deal of money while simultaneously no money could be generated. By the time La Fayette and his family settled in Danish-Holstein, they were deeply in debt. Although never returning to the highs of their pre-Revolution wealth, the La Fayette’s were eventually once more well off – although there were some bumps in the rode and the help of America was greatly appreciated and needed. I have spoken about La Fayette’s financial concerns during different times of his life in the past but never in a single comprehensive post that I could link for you. It certainly is somewhere one my list, but I do not know if anybody would be interested in a breakdown of La Fayette’s finances. So instead of a detailed breakdown of his finances, there is this quote about the nature of his debts:

“Enclosure: Lafayette’s Description of his Finances, [ca. 18 November 1809],” Founders Online, National Archives, https://founders.archives.gov/documents/Jefferson/03-02-02-0006-0002. [Original source: The Papers of Thomas Jefferson, Retirement Series, vol. 2, 16 November 1809 to 11 August 1810, ed. J. Jefferson Looney. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2005, pp. 10–26.] (06/04/2023)

The same report also details La Fayette’s incomes:

3d A working farm that will bring him next year, all expenses taken into account, twelve to thirteen thousand francs in net income and will increase in value in ensuing years.

4th To this landed income we must add the balance of the pension owed to his rank as general, which amounts to six thousand francs minus a slight deduction.

It follows that supposing that all the debts are paid off by the land Congress had the munificence to give him in Louisiana, each of Mr. de Lafayette’s children receiving from him 3000.₶ in annuities, all his family receiving room and board at his house, he would have an income of eighteen thousand livres in annuities, which will be successively raised to 20,000.₶

“Enclosure: Lafayette’s Description of his Finances, [ca. 18 November 1809],” Founders Online, National Archives, https://founders.archives.gov/documents/Jefferson/03-02-02-0006-0002. [Original source: The Papers of Thomas Jefferson, Retirement Series, vol. 2, 16 November 1809 to 11 August 1810, ed. J. Jefferson Looney. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2005, pp. 10–26.] (06/04/2023)

Some smaller incomes were left out and some of the numbers mentioned were at this point only estimated values. I would say, from all that I have read, that the farm at La Grange yielded eventually more than the proposed 12.000-13.000 ₶ but I have never seen any reports concerning La Grange’s actual performance. I would however say that the estimated range of his general incomes is correct.

Now to the last part of your question, La Fayette’s social standing after the French Revolution. This one is a bit tricky, because the French Revolution turned the whole of France’s social order inside out. The position that La Fayette had formerly occupied wasn’t any longer existing.

After the French Revolution, La Fayette was first imprisoned, then in exile and finally in “retirement” in France. He was during this time less a public than a private figure, but he could never again completely take off the mantle of a public persona. His engagement in the American Revolution was well known – but his actions during the French Revolution have brought his political, religious, and philosophical ideas to the home front. The French Revolution had made him enemies and had sharpened his profile. La Fayette, who never really like courtly life, used the shifted atmosphere after the French Revolution to engage more directly in politics and turn away from the court. France now had different elected political chambers and La Fayette served many years in those chambers. He took these elected positions very seriously but was also often more a silent member of said political bodies than an outspoken one. That is not to say that he could not be outspoken. He proofed during the 100 Days and during the three glorious days in 1832 that he still was one of the “big players”. As I said before, towards the end of his life La Fayette put more emphasis on his military titles than on his noble titles. He even became once more the commander of the National Guard for a short time in 1832. He was very interested in the cultural, artistical, philosophical and scientific life of the day and was a frequent guest in many of Paris foremost salons. He was not only interested in French political and social life but also in the affairs of other European and American countries. His opinions were well known, and he was respected for his adherence to his principles even by people who did not necessarily shared this principles. After the French Revolution La Fayette had moved away from the picture of the dashing young Marquis who had fought the British in America. Towards the end of his life, La Fayette was seen as more complex, more nuanced, more experienced. His life and social standing was still by far above the average but he also more and more valued a quite afternoon in the midst of his ever growing family.

I hope that answered your questions and if I missed something, do not hesitate to send a follow-up. I hope you have/had a lovely day!