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#it's not easy being a prophet. too many of them become martyrs
enslaughts · 1 year
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@huntalie. . . liked for a starter.
life had stopped making sense to laura lee the moment their plane plummeted from the sky. glimpses, maybe, here and there, shapes in her periphery, but by the second plane raining fire and brimstone upon them, she'd only kept on falling. head over heels far after she'd already hit the water. o thou of little faith. wherefore didst thou doubt ? maybe it was the moment you let us fucking sink. and yet, there is no other word for it but faith, this hellfire reflection in her eye. it devours the cabin, their home, like a lion, leaving nothing but skin and bone to pick through, blacker than black. at least it's warm. it'll be warmer in hell, something certain in her whispers, a root taking hold. a certainty of the un - seen, made seen before their very eyes. faith. the only thing that's made sense to her since the moment their plane plummeted from the sky ; this is judgment. righteous, holy fire for the blasphemers.
but the innocent were always damned with the guilty. firstborns swallowed in the plague. travis didn't deserve to lose his only home now that his brother was dead. lottie didn't deserve it either, akilah, gen, melissa, natalie. they were already suffering, half frozen, half starved, half dead. what more could it want from them, what more could it take ? what more could they give ? a home. their only home, for their only meal. maybe it was a fair trade after all. but no. no, it's only fair the taste of javi is forever turned to ash in their mouths, but not for all of them. travis, natalie— natalie tried. she was going to feed them all, despite lottie's offering, despite their heresy against it, she was going to feed them. heed the altar call and lie down upon it, and now look at her. ram in the thicket made archangel, forged in fire to light their path forward, chosen by the cards, the wilderness, lottie. who was laura lee to question it ?
so she doesn't. she has faith in lottie, and lottie put her faith in natalie. and god saw the light, that it was good : and god divided the light from the darkness. laura lee knows this, if nothing else : natalie is good. and because she's good, she will doubt herself, just as lottie did, and this is why they're good, why they're chosen. their home is in each other. “   you're not alone in this,   ” she whispers, fierce, forcing the glow in her gaze to shine on natalie's. what a way to start a reign. but light will always shine brighter in the dark. “   have faith in lottie. in yourself. we've made it this far.   ” what more could they lose ? where could they go now but up, after they'd already walked through the gates of hell ? doesn't that depend on which way you're going : out, or further in ? “   you got us this far.   ” not only your skill, but your kindness, “   you've been a faithful servant, natalie. now it's our turn. we just have to give it. . . more of the same.   ” here, cold hands find another's, slow, wary as an animal, but holding tight. “   more faith in it. trust, in each other.   ”
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anxiouspotatorants · 3 years
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Alright for those who have seen my Mal character analysis post here is part 2. For more context see the intro (and if you, want the whole thing) of said last post. But once again some disclaimers first: I haven’t read the original trilogy and use this to my advantage when analysing Alina based on her show-character alone. I do ship Malina (at least at the writing of this post), so that might influence my interpretation. This is just my opinion, so feel free to disagree. And spoilers for all of season 1 of Shadow and Bone.
Part 2: Alina
Now what I have seen so far when it comes to critiquing Alina, is that her character relies too much on Mal. She mentions him constantly while at the Little Palace, and once reunited with him practically attaches her own hip to his. Some argue that her growth was stunted by their reunion, and that we don’t get to see enough of who she is apart from Mal. And uh, yeah I disagree. It’s not that I find this argument inconceivable, just that after seeing the season twice I don’t really think that opinion holds water. Who is Alina? That is quite literally the mission statement of the season. Alina goes from an outcast cartographer with a small but somewhat reliable group of friends to finding out she’s not only grisha but a special kind of grisha. And from then on she basically has multiple identity crises only to end the season mentally preparing for a new roller coaster of identities. So let me try to map it out.
The power-reveal might happen in episode 1, but we actually find out a lot about who Alina is and was pre-reveal. She’s an orphan and social outcast due to her mixed race status (being half Shu in Ravka is not exactly easy). She’s had one friend throughout her childhood, Mal, and managed to find comradery in her cartographer team. From a young age she has had a talent for drawing, and Ana Kuya encouraged young Alina to direct this skill towards cartography, as this would provide her one of the safer roles in the army, which Alina was doomed to join from the start. As a child she was not popular, but her friendship with Mal shows a girl who was brave, loyal and determined. She was willing to up the stakes to protect her loved one (see: bully scene). As a young woman she still seems to keep that fighting spirit, but has also grown a larger sense of humour. She jokes around with Mal and their friends, but she’s also clearly insecure — repeating her question about Mal’s stories and her decision to hide her jealousy over Zoya suggest as much.
Post-reveal, Alina has to deal with a lot of different people saying a lot of different things about who she is. The grisha soldiers view her as a form of redemption for their people. Her former superiors and First Army soldiers view her as grisha-business. Mal, although Alina never finds out, tries to double down on his pre-established view of Alina until he sees the test. The king makes it clear to Alina that he sees her as a tool to reunite the two Ravkas. And the Darkling tries to create an entirely new narrative for Alina: she’s his other half, his one equal in the world, the one he has been waiting for that will right his his ancestor’s wrongs. Then there’s the Apparat who introduces her to the religious aspect of her powers, and Baghra who first treats her as unworthy of her powers and then as an unready foil to the Darkling. Alina has to navigate a lot of roles at the same time: saint, freak, saviour, tool, rival, enemy, heroine, lover, royal subject, the list goes on. It is through the combined impressions of Baghra and Mal that Alina starts to find herself again. Baghra consistently tries to get Alina to become her own person in harmony with her powers («who are you holding back for?»), but Alina initially twists this pep-talk into shifting her focus from Mal to the Darkling. Once Baghra reveals the Darkling’s true identity and motivations, Alina finally has to make the choice to go out on her own without allies. She outmanouvers the crows and gets in altercations with soldiers before running into the woods and into Mal. Mal’s presence reminds her of who Alina is at her core: an underdog with a lionheart. And the thing is, once reunited with Mal, Alina genuinely starts to change. She isn’t just returning to banter or insecurities or relying on support. She confronts Mal on his assumed silence and pre-established view of grisha. And she doesn’t give up on her new goal and run away with him — she insists on finding the stag, defeating the Darkling and destroying the Fold. She has found her goal and is following it free from the expected roles that have been thrust on her. At the end of the season, Alina might be back to her and Mal against the world, but she is a different woman. She is more confident and more goal-oriented. She has directed her stubborness towards a specific mission, and is preparing to have to battle all the roles that will be thrust upon her in future seasons (see: Zoya’s speech about Alina becoming a martyr before she becomes a saint). Who is Alina? She’s a fighter facing her new bully head on.
But there are two other elements I find important to rant about when it comes to Alina’s season 1 journey. The first is her connection to Mal. The two have been tight since they found each other as children in the orphanage. Alina suppressed her powers unknowingly for years and sabotaged her grisha test out of fear that a positive result would separate her and Mal. She makes it clear in later episodes that this fear of separation is what motivated her actions. But I don’t think it was about just Mal. I think Alina is terrified of being alone. And once Alina is brought to the Little Palace, she has no one. Not Mal, who was denied even a quick goodbye and whos letters are kept away from Alina. Not her cartographer friends, who all died either in the Fold or, in Alexei’s case, alone in a cellar at the hands of Kerch mobsters. She once again faces alienation, not just about her race but her commoner-soldier status, and quickly attaches herself to Genya, who is one of the few to show her kindness. Once she has been made to believe that Mal doesn’t care about her she also gets closer to the Darkling and recenters her world from around one man to the other. She feels pressure to perform as is expected of her to gain acceptance from what she now has to assume is her new home. Alina attaches herself to whoever seems decent enough because it is safer than being alone, especially in a world like the one she lives in. When it is then revealed that the Darkling has manipulated her the whole time, Alina starts to question everything again and journeys out on her own for possibly the first time. It is Mal who tracks her down and helps her out of a predicament, thus providing safe harbour for Alina again. Alina doesn’t just run back to him and regress as a character. As written above, her journey to episode 6 has impacted her to the point where her and Mal’s relationship changes too. The casually joking tone they used to have is much more subdued, and the two have to confront and open up to each other about revelations and feelings. They apologize to each other and show compassion. This isn’t a giant leap from their relationship pre-power reveal, but it still stands in contrast to their tense silences and evasions in episode 1. To put it this way: they bullshit each other a lot less now. And what is important to note is that Alina reunites with Mal for a reason. As implied by the last paragraph, a lot of people have a lot of expectations for Alina. Mal is (as many have pointed out before me) the one person who always sees her as a person instead of a concept. Where others see a saint or a weapon, he sees his friend. Where others see a threat or an unworthy vessel, he sees a girl who stands up to bullies and protects her loved ones. Alina and Mal bring out each others’ humanity, and that is a crucial thing to have in a world that sees them as inhuman: whether as prophetic legends on pedestals or anonymous cannon fodder.
The other point I want to bring up is that I think Alina has a second mission in season 1: navigating who to trust. We know that in the beginning the ones she trusts are Mal and the cartographers. Once in the Little Palace, she starts out by putting knives under pillows and only revealing emotional vulnerability in private. But she quickly starts to place her trust in others. She considers Genya a friend, the Darkling an ally who could be something more, and Marie, Nadia, Ivan and Fedyor as companions. She even becomes receptive to the Apparat from his lesson about Morozova. On the flip side she has an understandable feud with Zoya, and an equally understandable hot-and-cold relationship to Baghra. By the end of the season, Marie is dead and Nadia and Fedyor are nowhere to be seen. Meanwhile the Darkling is revealed as the true villain with Ivan as his underling and Genya his spy. Even The Apparat is implied to become a future enemy. Baghra and Zoya, on the other hand, have proven themselves to be more helpful to Alina — Baghra by exposing the Darkling, and Zoya by turning against him and helping Alina in the final Fold battle. And those Kerch crows who attempted to kidnap her ended up playing just as important a role in her rescue and in letting her go to continue her journey freely. Alina has spent the season learning that people really are not what they seem. Those who call themselves friends of you could be locking you in a cage, and those who wished you harm could turn out to have morals and redeem themselves. And Mal has an entire trust-arc for Alina of his own: he goes from her one friend to someone she thinks has left her behind, only to return and prove his loyalty and how worthy he is of her trust. I think this theme is something that will follow Alina in the next season, especially since she and Mal will be more vulnerable than before. She’ll need to learn when to keep her guard up and who is worthy of her softness.
So yeah, if I haven’t made myself clear enough I think Alina has a massive arc this season and that Mal doesn’t hinder this arc but rather is a reflection of it. Mal doesn’t regress her character, but rather reminds her who she is in opposition to who she is expected and told to be. And being a protagonist who interacts with a lot of characters, she is set up to have just as much of a journey (if not a bigger one) in future seasons. Is Mal going to be part of that? Probably. But he will continue to function as someone holding a mirror up to Alina reminding her of who she is. And Alina will continue to grow and deal with conflict as any protagonist should.
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basicsofislam · 6 years
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THE COMPANIONS OF THE PROPHET (PBUH) : Tulayb bin Umayr (r.a.)
Hz, Tulayb (r.a.) was an active, fiery and brave young man. His spirit was not blemished by polytheism. When he was 14-15 years old, his common sense helped him and he believed in the Prophet.
During the first years of Islam, the Prophet invited people to Islam secretly in the house of Hz. Arkam. Hz. Tulayb went to the house where the Messenger of Allah stayed without fearing anyone. He surrendered himself to the Prophet and became a believer.
Hz. Tulayb was excited. His heart became enlightened with the holy light of belief. The vast compassion of the Prophet illuminated his heart. He became very impatient and wanted to give this glad tiding to his mother. However, he did not know how his mother would react. Was she going to get angry with him? For, he became a Muslim without informing her about it.  
He arrived home. As soon as he saw his mother, he said, “O Mum! I have become a Muslim. I accepted the religion of Hz. Muhammad (pbuh) and became subjected to him.
His mother Arwa, who belonged to a noble family and who was an aunt of the Prophet, shared his joy. After congratulating her son, Arwa spoke as follows:
“O my son! There is no doubt that your cousin deserves your help more than anybody else does. If we, women, had the power to protect him from men, we would definitely resist all kinds of attacks and protect him.”
When Hz. Tulayb saw that his mother understood him, his courage increased. His mother had not become a Muslim yet but she did not want her nephew to be harmed. Making use of this nice atmosphere, Hz. Tulayb wanted his mother to be a Muslim, too. He said, “Mum! What prevents you from being a Muslim? Look! Your brother, Hamza, became a Muslim too.”
When she heard this offer, she softened a bit but it was not easy to abandon one's previous belief. She said, “I will wait a bit. I will do what my sisters do; I will be one of them.”
When Tulayb saw that his mother hesitated, he had nothing to do but to pray for her. Then, he said,
“O Mum! In that case, I will pray Allah for you until you accept Islam and utter witnessing by saying, ‘There is no god but Al­lah’.”
Arwa bint Abdulmuttalib did not want to disappoint his son and she acted in accordance with his wish; she uttered kalima ash-shahada and became a Muslim.
Hz. Tulayb struggled against the polytheists bravely though he was very young. He tried to silence the polytheists who defamed and talked against the Messenger of Allah. Once, he went to Abu Jahl, who resorted to anything to harm and trouble the Prophet, and gave him a blow that wounded his head. The polytheists who were theregrabbed hold of Hz. Tulayb. Abu Lahab, who was his maternal uncle, freed him.  
After that, some people went Hz. Arwa and complained to her about her son's behavior: “Do you not see what your son, Tulayb, does? He devoted himself to the way of Muhammad.”
Hz. Arwa gave them the following answer:
“His best days are the days when he helps Muhammad (pbuh) because Muhammad (pbuh) was sent as a prophet by Allah.”
The polytheists were astonished. In order to be sure, they asked her, “Did you believe in Muham­mad, too?” She said, “Yes, I did.”
They went to Abu Lahab and told him that his sister had become a Muslim.
When Abu Lahab was told that his sister had accepted Islam, he went to her house. He reproached her and condemned her for leaving her ancestors' religion.
Thereupon, Arwa said to him, “Stop reproaching me and go to your nephew. Help him and support him. Accept his religion.”
Thereupon ,Abu Lahab said, “Do we have the power to oppose all Arab tribes because of the religion he introduced?” He insisted on being an unbeliever and went away.
Hz. Arwa answered those who spoke against the Prophet and tried to prevent him from possible dangers. She also encouraged her son to do so. She told her not to leave the Messenger of Allah. Both the mother and the son struggled against polytheism as much as they could.
Once, Hz. Tulayb heard that Awf bin Sabra, one of the polytheists, uttered bad words about the Prophet. He found a jawbone of a camel and hit Awf on the head, wounding him. When they went to his mother to complain, she said, “Tulayb helps his cousin. He sacrifices his life and property for him.” Thus, she rejected the polytheists.
Once, Hz. Tulayb, who walked around Makkah freely since he was very young, heard from the polytheists that Abu Ihab bin Uzayr would organize an assassination to kill the Prophet by making a deal with Qurayshis. When he found out that Abu Ihab set off to kill the Prophet, he confronted Abu Ihab and wounded him on the head by throwing a stone at him. When Abu Ihab understood that his intention was heard, he gave up the idea of the assassination.”
Hz. Tulayb’s heroic acts broke the resistance of the polytheists. The polytheists, who could not resist the expansion of Islam through their ideas, were astonished when they encountered such physical resistance.
Hz. Tulayb, who was taken under custody by Qurayshis, migrated to Abyssinia with the first caravan of muhajirs. He stayed there for three months. When they heard the rumor that Makkan polytheists had become Muslims, they returned to Makkah. However, the news they heard was not true. When migration to Madinah started, Hz. Tulayb migrated to Madinah. He stayed as a guest in the house of Abdul­lah bin Salama in Madinah. Then, the Prophet established brotherhood between Tulayb and Mundhir bin Amr.
When the order to make jihad against the polytheists was given, Hz. Tulayb joined the army of the Prophet. He fought heroically at the Battle of Badr and protected the religion of Allah from His enemies. He took part in many battles after that.
After the death of the Prophet, Hz. Tulayb was among the mujahids in the War of Ajnadin against the Byzantines. The Muslims won a victory but about three thousand Muslims were martyred. Hz. Tulayb was among the martyrs, too. It was the month of Jumadal-Awwal in 13th year of the Migration. Hz. Tulayb was 35 years old then. 
May Allah be pleased with him!
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goharshahi · 6 years
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New Video: Maula Ali (as) Ne Karbala Mein Madad Kiyon Nahen Farmayi? | ALRA TV | By His Holiness @younusalgohar https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r3O_PFsHok8
Sayyidi Younus AlGohar explains why Moula Ali did not come to rescue Imam Hussain during the Battle of Karbala at the request of a viewer.
Main points:
- When Ameer Muawiya handed over control of the Islamic Sultanate to his son, Yazid, the people of Kufa wrote letters saying that Yazid was a sinner and they would not pledge allegiance to him. 'Pledging allegiance' meant to accept Yazid as the Caliph - it was their equivalent of the voting system we have today. So Imam Hussain sent  Muslim ibn Aqil to Kufa as his representative and take people’s pledge of allegiance on his behalf. 40 000 people joined him. Yazid and his government were watching this closely and feared what they saw as a rebellion. The politicians advised Yazid to get Imam Hussain to pledge allegiance to him in order to quash the ‘rebellion’. On the other hand, the religious scholars Yazid had with him brainwashed him into thinking that he was on the right path as Ameer ul Momineen and that Imam Hussain should pledge allegiance to him.
- Yazid told Ibn Ziyad and the army to forcefully take their pledge of allegiance by threatening and terrorising. But Ibn Ziyad did not threaten or terrorise. He directly declared war against them. Many Muslims of the time were among the hypocrites and Kharijites and they bore grudges against the Prophet's progeny. It is very easy for us to say that Yazid was a terrible man and he is hell-bound now - but back then they were all known as 'Muslims'. When the Prophet's Household was beheaded and their heads were brought to Yazid, Yazid began to play with their heads. And he said, 'God has granted victory to the truth.' This proves he was hell-bound and his hidden agenda was to butcher the Household of Prophet Mohammad all along.
- Now why did this incident take place and why didn't Moula Ali come to help? He did not come to save Imam Hussain because everything that happened in Karbala was done on the orders of God. When Imam Hussain and Imam Hassan were children, Gabriel came and took promises from Prophet Mohammad in regards to them. He brought two outfits from paradise. One was red and Imam Hussain was made to wear it. The other was green and Imam Hassan was made to wear it. So the one who had the wear the green outfit was killed by being poisoned. And the one who wore the red outfit was martyred in Karbala. Imam Hussain's martyrdom is the Zakat (charity) of Rapturous Love of Prophet Mohammad.
- Prophet Mohammad intensely loved Imam Hassan and Imam Hussain - and perhaps in the moments he spent with them, he forgot that he was the Leader of Prophets. Sometimes he would have them ride on his back and let them use his hair like reins. Sometimes they would jump on his shoulders while he was in prostration to God -  and lest they may fall if he raised his head, he would remain in prostration for hours on end. The love was extreme, so God said that it had become too much.
- Similarly, His Divine Eminence Gohar Shahi said, 'If I like somebody, I do not thoroughly look at them. Because whoever I look at properly, God will take that person away.'
- Hurr ibn Riyahi was the commander of Yazid's army who snuck over to Imam Hussain in Karbala and offered to help him escape. He did this for three nights but in the morning, Imam Hussain would see that despite having left under the cover of night, he and his family hadn’t left the battlefield. It was as if they were walking in circles. Then in a dream, Prophet Mohammad came to Imam Hussain and told him that he was to be martyred in Karbala. He told his family the next day and advised them to leave, but they didn’t want to leave him there alone. So they were killed one after the other. In the end, Imam Hussain had 320 sword wounds. And not a single wound was on his back. They were all on the front of his body.
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hello hello !!  i’m reyna and i’m fuelled by iced coffee. i’ll be playing the lovely molly prewett -- i adore molly and i’m very excited to write her with my own twist, and of course with all you talented people! i love to plot and honestly am down for mostly anything so!!!! feel free to reach me through IMs if you’d like to chat or cook something up. let’s get down to business!! 
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* △ — the dark lord has targeted [ MOLLY PREWETT ] !  the muggles say she holds resemblance to [ LEE SUNG-KYUNG ]. the [ 24 ] year old [ CIS FEMALE ] was [ TRUSTING & KIND ] before the war, but have now become [ OVERBEARING & PARANOID ]. though they were once a part of [ GRYFFINDOR ], they have now taken up the position of a [ HEALER ]. whispers throughout the ministry claim that the [ PUREBLOOD ] is actually [ A NEUTRAL, ORDER ALLY ], but i wouldn’t report that to the daily prophet. 
BASICS ! 
her name is molly -- just molly. try calling her margaret and she won’t give you the time of day.
born on the thirtieth of october, making her a scorpio.
gryffindor alumna.
her wand is nine inches long made of mahogany wood (strength, safety, protection), a unicorn core, and a springy build. 
golden retriever patronus ! 
the youngest of three siblings, three years behind twin brothers that are simultaneously her biggest headaches and fiercest loves. 
molly stands at five foot two inches of whoop ass. 
HISTORY ! 
TO BE LOVED. molly knew she was adopted as soon as she was old enough to understand — after all, she was starkly different from her parents and brothers, from the slant of her eyes to her stature and the way she always seemed to stand out. she doesn’t know much about her biological mother apart from the fact that she passed away not too long after her birth and the prewetts took her in soon after.  there was a fair bit of gossip that surrounded her adoption, everything from hushed whispers to biting remarks at social gatherings, questioning the legitimacy of her pureblood status because how would you know for certain after plucking your ‘daughter’ from stranger’s arms? the prewetts did their best to shield molly from these cruelties but they couldn’t shelter her from everything; for every tear shed there was a tight embrace, for every judgemental glance, they matched with proudly showing her as their bonafide and beloved daughter and sister. this was her first lesson in true, unconditional love, and she seeks to emulate it for the rest of her life.
ALL OF MY KINDNESS IS TAKEN FOR WEAKNESS. it’s easy to see molly, her stature, and baby face and think of her as all soft -- in reality, she’s a firecracker wrapped in cotton wool. unbeknownst to many, molly was a part of the duelling club in her years at hogwarts. she makes quite the formidable duellist given the chance (she insists she would rather not, laughing off her past passion with duelling as a mere hobby) — nowadays her wand work focuses primarily on healing magic and charms. 
BUT FIRST YOU MUST LIVE. molly cannot bring herself to join the order. martyrdom to a horrific war is something she just can’t justify, no matter how much she believes in the cause and loves the people out there on the front lines. every time she entertains the brave voice in her head that invites her to jump in the fray, her heart shouts i’m not strong enough, i haven’t even lived enough. there’s an entire life she has envisioned for herself; marriage, children, surrounded by all of her friends and family – safe and sound. however, molly also simply can’t put it all on the back burner, not when there’s so much at stake. she funnels her energy into being an ally to them, tending to their injuries and providing somewhere safe and warm for shelter. it frightens her to see her loved ones so willingly throwing themselves into the war, and it has become a terribly touchy subject.
AESTHETIC ! 
burning your tongue on a hot cup of tea, a house that truly feels like home, dancing barefoot on kitchen tiles, putting others’ needs before your own, standing on tiptoes, reassuring words spoken into existence, a lioness’ warning roar, clean dressings on a weeping wound, waking up to sunshine peeking through the windows, forehead kisses, tears of joy, tears of relief, tears of frustration, constant reminders to dress warm & eat well & be safe, off-tune lullabies composed on the spot, crossing fingers and toes for good luck, a white-knuckle grip, drizzling summer rain, to see the glass as perpetually half full, a love that never runs out.
inspo / associations: april kepner (grey’s anatomy), jane villanueva (jane the virgin), the goddess hestia (greek mythos), katara (atla). 
WANTED PLOTS / CONNECTIONS ! 
friends!!!!! give molly all the friends. she’ll be fussy and (s)mothering but dear god will she love you with all her might.
it’s always the ones who try to run away the farthest that get tangled up the worst. molly hates the thought of the war and what it’s done and continues to do -- she will help, she will care, but she will never get directly involved. she feels as though she has to be the one that stays grounded and clearheaded, not wrapped up in ideals of being a martyr, soldier, hero, or whatever else. molly wants to hold her own, protect all of her loved ones and keep them safe and sound. talk to her about the war, dig a little deeper -- also an open invitation for trouble to come find her. 
let her patch you up after a mission / tussle / miscellaneous injury. it’s essentially guaranteed you’ll get an earful about being more careful next time, though. 
assumed connections are also!!!!! very much welcome. friends / old friends / old flames (woot!) / person(s) of dislike / etc ! 
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8th Oct >> Daily Reflection/Commentary on Today’s Mass Readings (Isaiah 5:1-7; Philippians 4:6-9; Matthew 21:33-43) for Roman Catholics on Sunday of the Twenty-Seventh Week in  Ordinary Time, Cycle A.
Commentary on Isaiah 5:1-7; Philippians 4:6-9; Matthew 21:33-43
TODAY’S PARABLE is linked to last Sunday’s about the two sons sent to work in their father’s vineyard. One promised to go and work there but he did not actually go. The other at first refused but later relented and went. The message of Jesus is clear (especially in the context of Matthew’s Gospel).
God’s people had disappointed their God. It was the formerly sinful Gentiles who took on the task of building the Kingdom. This should not be understood as anti-Jewish. On the contrary this was being written by Christian Jews for Christian Jews and it must have been a painful thing for them to see and accept.
Poor tenants
Today we have a parable saying more or less the same thing. Strictly speaking it is not a parable but an allegory. A parable normally presents one lesson and the details are not relevant; while, in an allegory, each detail of the story has a symbolic meaning.
The message clearly is that God’s people have been poor tenants in the Lord’s vineyard. However, we read this not to sit in judgement on certain people in the past. We must be careful to be aware of the relevance of this parable for our own situation. We are not reading it for historical reasons but for reflection on our own lives and behaviour.
The Lord’s vineyard
Both the First Reading and the Gospel focus on the Lord’s vineyard, that is, the place where God’s people are to be found. At first, Jesus chose the Israelites to be his own people. He was with them on their wanderings in the desert on the way to “a land flowing with milk and honey”. “What could I have done for my vineyard that I have not done?” the Lord asks in the First Reading.
But the response of the people/tenants in the vineyard was far from the expectations of the master of the vineyard: “I expected my vineyard to yield grapes. Why did it yield sour grapes instead?”
In Jesus’ story the owner sends his servants to collect the harvest. Instead, the tenants seized, beat, stoned and even killed the owner’s messengers. This happened again and again. The message is clearly understood by Jesus’ hearers. The Lord had sent his prophets to remind his people of their duty to serve, to be a fruitful people. Yet, one by one, God’s messengers were rejected.
No respect even for the son
Finally, the owner’s own son was sent. “They will respect my son,” the owner said. But no. He also was seized, thrown out of the vineyard and killed. They could now take over the vineyard for themselves. It reminds one of the arrogance of our first parents who thought the knowledge of good and evil would give them power over God; of those who tried to build a tower that would reach right to the heavens. And the killing of the son “outside the city” is a clear reference to Jesus dying on the cross outside the walls of Jerusalem.
Called to the Lord’s vineyard
Today, we are God’s people. We are the tenants in the vineyard. Now he expects us to produce fruit, fruit that will endure. The obvious question for us to ask ourselves today is: How are we doing? How much better are we than the chief priests, the elders, the Scribes and the Pharisees? We are specially privileged, by baptism, to be called to work in the Lord’s vineyard. Each week we are invited to gather together to hear the Gospel message and to make it part of our lives. We are all called to be members, active members of the Body of Christ, the Christian community, the Church.
Many martyrs
How do we see this call? Do we find it a privilege, a blessing, or a troublesome burden? How well have we received the message of the Lord?
Over the centuries, how many prophets in our Christian communities have been rejected, abused and even killed? We think of Joan of Arc, Thomas More, Oliver Plunkett and, in our own times, Bishop Oscar Romero, Martin Luther King, the countless victims of violence in Central and South America, in Africa, not to mention Northern Ireland.
All these martyrs have one thing in common. They were killed not by pagans but by fellow-Christians, tenants in the Lord’s vineyard. We can hardly feel superior to the people Jesus is
criticising in today’s Gospel. Isaiah’s words in the First Reading are so true:
I expected justice but found bloodshed;
I expected integrity but found only a cry of distress.
In so many parts of the world we do not have to go far to see the relevance of those words.
What kind of grapes?
Even so, we may feel we have not personally been part of any of this. Yet, what kind of grapes do we as a parish community produce? Are they sweet and luscious or are they pinched and sour? Is our parish a real sign of Jesus’ presence and love in this part of our city? What kind of impact do we have?
Are we living out the words that Paul proposes to the Christians of Philippi in today’s Second Reading:
Fill your minds with everything that is true,
everything that is noble,
everything that is good and pure,
everything that we love and honour,
and everything that can be thought virtuous
or worthy of praise.
He goes on:
Keep doing all the things that you learnt from me
and have been taught by me
and have heard or seen that I do.
These last words are quite a challenge for all of us. But if we can live them out, then, says St Paul, “the God of peace will be with you.”
Parish vineyard
Our parish is our vineyard. It must not produce sour grapes that no one can eat. It must be open to the various ways the Lord speaks to it, whether those people are Church leaders or prophetic voices which may sometimes say things which are painful to hear.
There is always a temptation for a parish to become a security blanket for those who do not want to face up to the challenges facing every society. When that happens, it tends to cling to old, fixed ways of doing things and to resist change. People who propose changes that are necessary in serving a constantly changing society may be resisted and resisted very strongly. Each parish can find itself producing its core of “chief priests and elders” (who, by the way, may not be the clergy) who will make sure that prophetic voices (who may be the clergy) and people with real vision will be effectively blocked.
It is just as easy for us in these times to fail to recognise the voice of God in the messengers he sends us, just as the Jewish authorities of Jesus’ time failed to recognise the Word of God in him. It was Cardinal Newman who said more than 100 years ago that “To live is to change; and to be perfect is to have changed often.” If we are not really making sure that our vineyard produces rich grapes, not only for us but for others, too, to enjoy, then we are falling short as “tenants”. It may well happen that the Lord may ask others to come and take our place.
If our church was closed down, sold off and turned into a dance hall what real difference would it make to our district? Of course, we who come here regularly would miss it, but what of others who never step inside? Are we really concerned about that impact or do we think more of our own personal religious obligations and needs? Do we measure the quality of our parish by what goes on in this building or by what happens when we leave it? Obviously, both are important but there cannot be one without the other.
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thegnasticious · 7 years
Text
Advertisers of Death pt. 1
“Somewhere in a city you’ve only visited in dreams
lies an office stuck in the heights of a silver scooped skyscraper.
Every memory you’ll ever have ends there,
every affection, movement, possession will lie in the darkness of it’s corners someday,
tucked away in a file bin of lost people.
The only way you could navigate the corners and curves of this tower is with an intense knowledge of patterns and symmetry, alike to a prophet. The building itself is a shell. What you think happens next builds the next room before you can blink an eye. Painting it with the most beautiful and ugly people you have ever seen, fooling you so perfectly into believing you are more then that”
A tall, Black suited man stood in front of a crowd of businessmen. He rubbed his chin as he analyzed the audience. Stubbles of black hair bristled his fingers, He appeared gaunt in size on the stage; like a giant. The audience murmured and speculated as the man began to pull a rope to a giant purple curtain. As the curtain pulled at both sides, the orangish chandeliers above dimmed to a light glow. Lights illuminated from a silver cylinder attached to the floor and ceiling. A blue luminescence grew, showing the design of an immaculate skyscraper. The tall suited man blew a puff of smoke from a silver cigarette into the hologram. Smoke intwined with the lights, showing the fragments of colors.
“This is a place you come to stay. We take you in. But once you’re here, it’s not so easy to get out. We want you to know this first and foremost, no matter what you bring here, you will take something out of it in the end. It’s alike to chipping away at an old theaters intricacies to make new ones. it’s repurposing, in the end alike to remodeling a house, but if that house was you”.
The suited man paused his speech as a small hand raised from the crowd.
“Excuse me sir, but why can’t you leave this place? For the money, you should be able to be what you are, do what you want. I don’t think many people would invest in this”,
The man considered the question, rubbing the stubbles of Black hair on his five o’ clock shadow, he blew a another puff of smoke and began,
“This is a place people come to disappear. I’m not going to sell it as otherwise. If you want my real two cents on it, it’s an elaborate crematorium. The place is fully synthetic in build. The secret isn’t a furnace in the basement, but a particle accelerator built for a human. We dissimulate you and/or a loved one down to the atom and put you in a parallel universe of your preference. All it takes is a meal and one night’s rest in this digitally constructed skyscraper. Technically it acts as a gateway between universes. But once you go, you can’t come back. For those who have experienced it they have said it’s alike to the best night’s meal and rest of your life. We built this in undisclosed forest land in the outskirts of Chicago. For some it’s the only option for a continued life, as some diseases are virtually incurable, the only feasible extension of life is a synthetic one. The overseer of the Skyscraper is a digital AI, equivocal of a god as we would know it. It can make active modifications to time, environment, situation, anything, contained within the Skyscraper. It is our arbiter into this extension of our universe as we know it. After assimilating, it does gain the ability to assimilate, and follow user’s activities in what we will be calling The Parallel”,
The man took a long smoke from his cigarette,
The crowd deliberated for a few seconds,
he seemed to grow impatient with the presentation.
“You can all grab your phones on the way out,
I’m going to take this to a close for now.”
He then powered off the projection,
The lights came to an orange blaze all around.
Most of the crowd sat, confused about what they had just seen.
The man grabbed a few things from a podium, and pulled a black box from the bottom of the cylinder. He quickly headed out a side exit to two other tall suited men. They headed out the room as quick as possible. 
“Good speech Bob”, one man in a dark charcoal suit said.
He adorned dark vintage Persol glasses with a black newsboy hat, fluffs of brown hair stuck out the corners. He was a short, stubby, and over-sized man. He looked like a 90′s transplant, and for all anyone knew, maybe he was. 
Steve went far back with Bob in personal history, sort of acting as his comedic relief. They grew up in a sleepy suburb of neon-lights and part-time days. They ruined each others relationships and well being to such a point that they actually had to work together at some point. But a certain darkness seemed to follow them wherever they went, that was the 3rd man, Pete,
“I don’t think they understand what we do. Those idiots are probably still trying to find the skyscraper, wondering if we have a penthouse for them. I wish that common people could understand that death is a metaphor, a business transaction, a click of the universe. Death infects your dreams. It’s not real until you make it real.”
Bob said, hurrying his pace towards a moving floor in a giant silver skybridge.
“We want to sell the synthetic. Are you forgetting the fundamentals? That whole speech was taking us in an almost humanitarian direction. What is with your honesty lately, Bob? Are you drinking before speeches again? We aren’t here to sell empathy. Most of these people are tired doctors and law men looking for any answer short of the open classification of what is euthanasia. Maybe you need a break.”
Pete said.
Pete was a little bigger than the other two, he had jet black hair and a slender build. Even with 5-10 counts of vandalism and 1 assault on an officer, he was able to make something of himself when Steve and Bob pulled inheritances into a business they all related in. The business of death. 
Pete wasn’t always into it, not until he met his first Scavy. The Scavys were alike to a inbred infection coursing through the US. With the advancement of technology, most Scavys were able to be contained from infecting the rest of normal society. They would be given duties fit to their ailments, but these people sometimes broke out and hid amongst normal people. Feeding off the living through manipulation and guile. They were the vultures to capitalism, an infection with no seeming end.
How Pete met this Scavy was when he lost his best friend. His best friend was overdosed by an opiate related substance laced with formaldehyde. It was only later that he found out the drug had been supplied by a Scavy nick-named Buck who was sent by an even more elusive individual named ‘The General’ who organized drugs and prostitution within the community. Pete grew up seeing himself as a martyr or a hero of his hometown streets, he always tried to avoid the world when the streetlights clicked off. But when he found out about these people, he found himself walking late at night, looking for their faces in the people around him so he could get a chance to do something. But every time he came close to finding them or the truth, only more questions posed themselves, and the answers were even more obscure. He found himself looking for patterns in life rather then living it, these people truly scared him. They could possess a person from 10 miles away and you’d have little clue it was the same source but the cues would all be the same; There’s a thing to be said in deja-vu, it can be within people as well as place. Finally he decided to meet Buck in person. What he didn’t know is what that would cost him. Most of ‘The General’s’ People were refugees, sent to become the invisible cogs of American culture. Usually it was horrible offenses that tied them to this living, so bad they couldn’t stay in their own country anymore.
As he delved deeper into their community, he discovered that they were into much more then drugs. They were literally coding people’s behaviors. finding strangers to manipulate their realities with seemingly synthetic substances driving the users forward, like a little sailboat in a sea of garbage. Most of the people spun out after enough consumption, and at a certain point ‘The General’ would draw the line, stepping in and putting the individual down like an old dog before the mess got too big. Buck was one amongst many, they posed as military personnel usually, over-informed about any individual they see fit to move in or out of areas at their discretion, not the individual’s. They would infect the local parties and high schools indefinitely, stemming the culture down to the root. These people taught Pete to truly hate.
Finally one day pete got the nerve to do something about it. He would often visit his long-dead Uncle’s grave and like a god send, the door to the crematorium was open. He went to check if anyone was there, it was empty and dark. A brown amber glass jar sat on a silver tray on a shelf across the room. He approached it, and bumped a cart in the dark. He looked down to see an old lady, long dead and embalmed. He had to hold himself from vomiting as the stench was unbearable. He neared the tray and could read the words “FORMALDEHYDE”, on the dark glass. He quickly grabbed it and put it in his back pack, heading out as quick as he came in.
It wasn’t too long that he was at Buck’s doorstep with a soaking, cigarette ready for consumption. Buck asked to bum one as always right at the doorstep.
Soon enough Buck went the way of Pete’s friend. A foul stench that lingers in an occupied house of observant people. A toxic gas which lines the walls of the normalities of society. At that point though, how was Pete any better than these people? Was he becoming a Scavy himself?
And with a knock at his door, Bob and Steve found Pete like this. 
Little did Pete know, these people weren’t here to hurt, he had just done them a favor clearing Buck out. As they would soon explain to him, Buck was a thorn in the side of everyone, the advertisers had it for him, the military men, the druggies, and even the bank guys. He pissed everyone off with little to no regard of reality or effect to his actions. His life was like an annoying billboard that wouldn’t go away. He spread his existence into other people’s sense of normality to warp them just as he had been. It was at this point that Bob and Steve, were more than just friends to him. 
Or at least he thought
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