#local government tenders

[onespacetenders]

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[lovingjingyuan]

Hey, it’s me again. I want request Sunday with Foxian reader this time, please.

Sunday met reader when he was still a child, and he promised that when he grow up, he will marry Foxian reader.

Reader being old lady, just chuckle and accept it. Thinking that he’s joking, which he doesn’t.

P/s: Foxian reader is 200 years old when she met child Sunday.

Sunday name is --- cause we don't his name. I'll update it if we find out

I wanna make Masterlist but I'm lazy

Sunday x Foxian Reader

𓆪♡𓆩 - Sunday 𓆪(´◡`)𓆩

After two centuries in life you have secured an office desk position in the Sky-Faring Commission. It was assumed to be an impressive standard as being 200 years old and earning a position in the commission wasn’t exactly easy. By most Xianzhou standards, you were still quite young for a position in a commission such as the Sky-Farring.

Yukong had announced that day that a class of elementary students from Penacony would be visiting the Luofu on a field trip to observe and explore the different types of planetary governments. With the recent surge of traffic and reckless driving, the workload has become too much of a pain, causing you to ditch the responsibility to tour guide these kids around.

“Miss?” a soft voice interrupted your train of thought, followed by a soft gentle touch on your tail. Turning around you spot a kid who's clearly not a Xianzhou local, hugging your soft tail and stroking it as if it were a pet. “I can’t find my sister.”

His eyes reflected with worry while explaining that he was separated from the group when he promised to retrieve his sister’s stuffed bunny. You knelt down to his level and looked at him in the eyes expressing a deep sense of worry.

“They’re with Madam Yukong… Do you know her by any chance?” You carefully brush your tail away from his hands seemingly disappointed as you do so.

“I heard of her only. Miss Foxian can you please help me find her?” The child pleading eyes tugged at your heartstrings. Those wings by his ears fluttered. How adorable! You only heard of Halovians but never in your two centuries of life have you seen one!

“Of course. What’s your name?” You questioned the child with a tenderful smile who could be no older than eight.

His eyes sparkled with the sweetest yet sheepish smile. He was not entirely comfortable around adults. “My name is —-,” he answered, his gaze lingering on top of your head with those soft fox ears and then towards your tail. Sunday could just imagine snuggling his small body against that cozy tail of yours! “Miss Foxian I’ve never seen your kind before if you don’t mind…” his voice trails off, his cheeks flustered, too embarrassed to finish his words.

You understood exactly what he meant! He wanted to pet you. You reassured him, “I’ve never seen a Halovian before. You are truly angelic and adorable!” You pinched his cheeks softly with a gleaming smile. You can if I get to touch those wings.”

His hands immediately lung forward towards your ears. His small soft hand wandered around your head and tail petting you down like a dog. “Foxian are truly gorgeous,” he remarked.

You couldn’t help but heave out a soft chuckle ruffling his head. Slowly, reaching your hands to his wings. You pitched them between your fingers. His gaze remains on you admiring your beauty. He knew right there you were his dream girl. Even if it might be a silly little childish crush you were too kind and gorgeous.

In the end you found out his elementary was on the whole other side of the Luofu. You couldn’t leave your station you had to remain here and work! You attempted to slove this by handing Sunday to the cloudknights so they can bring him back to the group. Yet whenever you bring Sunday towards them his small arms clung around your shoulders refusing to let you hand him over to them.

He would cry on your shoulders when you did. Maybe he was just shy as he claimed but truth to be told Sunday wanted to spend more time with you!

When he had to leave he was sobbing. It broke your warm big heart! His sister held Sunday’s hands trying to comfort him. It was a rare sight to see him cry according to his sister and classmate.

“Miss next time we meet! I promise we’ll get married!” Sunday delacred with a mix of sincerity and childish innocence. He wiped his tears before reluctantly getting escorted away by his teacher.

You chuckled at his pouting and whining being carried away by his teacher.

To you those words were nothing more than a childish promise. A broken promise that you will never remember. Would you even remember him? You know you could not defy the ethics of this universe. Long life species should never love a short life.

Many years later you've looked at your office desk. You managed to climb the rankings just slightly. A letter sitting innocently on your desk waiting to be opened.

An invitation from The Family? Surprised The Family will personally invite you. You thought they would invite someone like Fu Xuan or Jing Yuan but you? Was there a catch?

Nevertheless you gladly accept it because many with spend their savings to visit. You're visiting for free and you get a VIP room. Extra special VIP! And it was personally written by Representative Sunday. The man managing the festival! How nice. Do you even remember him? He felt like a distant memory.

You immediately step foot into Penacony from your private transportation provided from The Family. How generous The Family always treats their guests so well!

“Oh the important guest Mr. Sunday mentioned! It's an honor to meet an important guest of Mr. Sunday,” the receptionist charmed in with a gleeful smile.

You stood there confused. Did the Luofu Sky-Faring Commission have an important affairs you never knew of or an important meeting? You thought to yourself. You've only heard of Sunday and seen him in the news, yet you felt like you knew him before. Even if you did it be when he was a child.

“Someone will escort you right up ahead,” the receptionist spoke to you in such great manner.

Members from the Bloodhound escorted you with great caution. So much it intimidated you slightly. Suddenly they paused in their steps at a door. This was the hotel room? So different from the others.

You stepped inside once they told you to.

“Greetings Miss Foxian it's been a while,” a calm voice came in front of you. A man sitting on a chair leg crossed staring at the many TV screens flashing in front of him and you.

He stood up and turned facing towards you waiting for you to inch closer.

“Mr. Sunday? Is there something important we need to discuss?”

“No happy smile? Oh no this just can't do. You don't remember me don't you?” He stood towering over you. “Don't tell me you erased our special memories together. That promise.”

A frown replaced the calm smile. It was a custom for the Xianzhou to erase painful or parts of their memories to prevent Mara.

“Why those memories?” He whispered in your ears tenderly stroking your fluffy ears on your head. That touch felt familiar. He smiled again. Something about the smile was unsettling. “No worries The Family is experts when it comes to regaining lost memories.”

Memories came flashing in you. This was all confusing yet familiar. Too much you passed out. Sunday swiftly got hold of your body putting you in the dreamscape.

You opened your eyes. Your body felt weird almost like you were in a dream.

“How are you my little Fox?” He kissed your cheeks. He held you on his lap. His lips formed a smirk.

“See I kept my promise til the end,” his hands traced up your thighs keeping a firm grip on your waist.

He lifted you off his lap, setting you to sit on his fancy chair. He got on one knee eyeing you as he presented a ring in a white and golden box with a beautiful shiny diamond ring in the middle! The diamond ring has angel wings on it like his to show ownership towards you.

“Will you marry me my dear Fox?”

It was more of a demand than a question. Sunday wasn't the young boy you knew before. He always kept his words even if they were a childish dream. But he lived in a dream, the dreamscape so anything is possible.

He puts the cold ring on your ring finger, leaned in and kissed you lips. Sweet and short.

[leroibobo]

when the homes in the depopulated palestinian village of lifta were originally built is impossible to tell and most likely varies from house to house. the area's been known since ancient times, including having been written about in the hebrew bible. it's retained multiple different names throughout history - lifta by romans, nephto by byzantines, clepsta by crusaders, then lifta again by arabs. in more recent times, the area saw battle in the early 19th century, when it saw a peasant's revolt against egyptian conscription and taxation policies. (egyptian-ottoman ruler muhammad ali had attempted to become independent from the ottoman empire, and sought to use the area of "greater syria" which palestine was apart of as a buffer state.)

the village was predominantly muslim with a mosque, a maqām for local sage shaykh badr, a few shops, a social club, two coffee houses, and an elementary school which opened in 1945. its economy was based in farming - being a village of jerusalem, farmers would sell their produce in the city's markets. an olive press which remains in the village gives evidence to one of the most important crops its residents farmed. the historically wealthy village was known for its intricate embroidery and sewing, particularly of thob ghabani bridal dresses, which attracted buyers from across the levant.

lifta also represents one of the few palestinian villages in which the structures weren't totally or mostly decimated during the 1948 nakba. 60 of the 450 original houses remain intact. from zochrot's entry on lifta:

israel's absentee property law of 1950 permits the state to expropriate land and assets left behind, and denies palestinians the right to return to old homes or to reclaim their property. it's estimated that there's around 400,000 descendants of the village's original refugee population dispersed in east jerusalem, the west bank, jordan, and the palestinian diaspora.

like many depopulated palestinian houses, some of those in lifta were initially used to settle predominantly mizrahi immigrants and refugees, in this case 300 jewish families from yemen and kurdistan. the houses weren't registered in their names, and the area generally saw poor infrastructure and no resources including water and electricity provided by the government. most left in the early 1970s as a part of a compensation program to move out people who'd been settled in depopulated palestinian houses - if they didn't, they were referred to as "squatters" and evicted. (holes were even drilled in the roofs of evacuated buildings to make them less habitable). the 13 families which remain there today only managed to do so because they lived close to the edge of the village.

in 1987, the israeli nature reserves authority planned to restore the "long-abandoned village" and turn it into a natural history center which would "stress the jewish roots of the site", but nothing came of it. several more government proposals on what to do with the land had been brought up since then. this culminated in in 2021 when the israel land administration announced without informing the jerusalem municipal authorities that it issued a tender for the construction of a luxury neighborhood on the village's ruins, consisting of 259 villas, a hotel, and a mall. since 2023, they've agreed to shelve and "rethink" these plans after widespread objection.

the reasons for the objections varied significantly between the opposing israeli politicians - who see the village as an exemplar of cultural heritage and "frozen in time" model of palestinian villages before 1948 - and palestinians - who largely see the village as a witness of the nakba and a symbol of hope for their return. lifta is currently listed by unesco as a potential world heritage site, a designation netanyahu has threatened to remove several times.

many palestinians who are descendent from its former residents still live nearby. like with many other depopulated palestinian villages, they've never ceased to visit, organize tours of the village, and advocate for its preservation.

[gothhabiba]

The immediate impact of the Israeli occupation was to exacerbate unemployment: service jobs for the Egyptian army and UN forces vanished, trade with Egypt halted, and the port was closed. Moreover, since the combined GNP of the West Bank and the Gaza Strip was only 2.6 percent of the Israeli GNP in 1967, they faced inevitable integration into the Israeli economy as the occuption continued. Furthermore, Israeli policies increased the Strip's dependency. These practices included permitting only certain Gaza products to be sold within Israel, flooding the Gaza market with Israeli goods, restructuring Gaza's agriculture, and encouraging Arab laborers to work in Israel.

The Balance and Composition of Trade. After only one year of occupation, 72 percent of Gaza's imports came from Israel; no imports were allowed from Egypt, and 1 percent of its imports came from Jordan (the balance came from Europe). This represented a dramatic shift, since all the prewar trade had been either directly with Egypt or with Europe and Asia through the Gaza port. [...]

A decade later the shift in trading patterns was even more pronounced. [...] 91 percent of imports came from Israel, and nothing was imported from Jordan or Egypt. [...] Dates, strawberries, and vegetables were also sold to Israel, and local industries engaged in subcontracting for Israeli firms.

Agriculture and industry were both hard hit by Israeli competition. Israeli eggs, poultry, and even vegetables sell at lower prices than local produce, and virtually all canned and bottled goods come from Israel. [...]

A 15 percent excise tax and soaring inflation erode the profits of merchants and factory owners. Gazans have no way to hedge against inflation, since the Israeli shekel is the only legal tender on the Strip.

Restructuring Agriculture. Israel has prevented farmers from exporting to Israel any items that compete with Israeli produce and has imposed restrictions on the planting of certain crops. As a result, the output of melons, onions, grapes, almonds, olives, and fish has decreased. Farmers need permits to plant trees and vegetables.

[...] The government has encouraged production of some specialized crops, such as strawberries and dates. Farmers in Beit Lahiya village say that they were ordered to grow strawberries and would otherwise have been prevented from using their land and well. These strawberries are marketed exclusively through Ashkelon port by the Israeli export firm Agrexco. No permits, however, have been given to farmers to plant such crops as mangoes and avocados, which are also grown in Israel.

Arab Labor in Israel. In 1970, 10 percent of the Gaza labor force was employed in Israel, but at present approximately 40 percent (35,000 persons) work there. This includes 25,000 workers who are registered with the official labor exchange and another 10,000 who work illegally. The high unemployment within the Strip and the fact that wages inside Israel were five times those in the Strip made such employment irresistible.

[...] Even those holding regular jobs face difficult conditions. For example, it is illegal for them to remain inside Israel from 1:00 a.m. to 5:00 a.m. But employers and workers collude in circumventing the law so that the workers will not have to spend several hours every day commuting. Farmers let laborers sleep in huts, abandoned buses, or even in the open under the orange trees. In town, workers jam into hostels, sleep on construction sites, or spread out on the floor in restaurants. There have been cases of disasters when workers locked into factories at night were unable to escape when fires broke out. [...]

The overall impact of Israeli economic policy is to turn the Gaza Strip into a large labor camp. The Strip is a source of cheap labor for Israel and its internal economic base is continually eroded.

– 1985. Ann M. Lesch, "Gaza: Forgotten Corner of Palestine." Journal of Palestine Studies 15.1, pp. 43-61. Emphasis mine.

[jbaileyfansite]

Interview with the Los Angeles Times (2024)

“This is where all the cruising happened.”

Jonathan Bailey and I are standing in Pershing Square on a bright, blustery spring afternoon, nearing the end of a homemade queer history tour of downtown L.A.: One Magazine, Cooper Do-Nuts/Nancy Valverde Square, the Dover bathhouse, the Biltmore Hotel and this, the city’s former Central Park, a haven, since before World War I, for “fairies” and “sissy boys,” servicemen on leave and beatniks on the road.

“Is it still happening now?” he asks.

“Probably not as much,” I venture.

“Well, you let me know if it’s happening,” he teases, a mischievous smile lighting up his face.

Bailey understands the uses of the charm offensive. As Sam, the handsome Lothario of Phoebe Waller-Bridge’s delightful pre-”Fleabag” curio, “Crashing”; Anthony, the romantic hero of “Bridgerton’s” second season; and John, the jerk of a protagonist in Mike Bartlett’s love triangle play “Cock,” the English actor, 36, has swaggered up to the precipice of superstardom. With roles in such studio tentpoles as “Wicked” and “Jurassic World” on the horizon, he may just break through. Yet he delivers career-best work in Showtime’s queer melodrama “Fellow Travelers,” as anti-Communist crusader-turned-gay rights activist Tim Laughlin, by leaving behind the self-assured rakes and tapping a new wellspring: soft power.

Tim may be, as Bailey puts it, “an open nerve,” but as it turns out, the devout Catholic and political naïf — who falls for suave State Department operative Hawkins “Hawk” Fuller (Matt Bomer) just as Sen. Joseph McCarthy tries to purge the federal government of LGBTQ people — is formidable indeed.

Stretching from the Lavender Scare to the depths of the AIDS crisis, in scenes of tenderness, cruelty and toe-curling sex, Bailey’s performance communicates that little-spoken truth of relationships: It takes more strength to submit than it does to control. The former demands discipline, courage, trust; the latter requires only force.

“In ‘Bridgerton,’ [Bailey] is like a Hawkins Fuller character — he is very sexy and has lots of power, has that kind of confident charisma that absolutely is not Tim at all,” says “Fellow Travelers” creator Ron Nyswaner.

But any doubt about Bailey’s ability to mesh with Bomer, who boarded the project early in development, was put to bed with the actors’ virtual rehearsal of a meeting on a park bench in the pilot. “‘Well, that’s a first,’” Nyswaner recalls an executive texting him. “I cried in a chemistry read.”

‘Am I inviting people in?’

Bailey grew up in a musical family in the Oxfordshire countryside outside London, and this, coupled with an appreciation for the morning prayers, choir practice and Mass he attended as a scholarship student at the local Catholic school, fed his precocious talents. (“I loved the performance of it,” he laughs. “Not to diminish the celebration of religious process, but I did love the idea of wearing a gown.”) By age 10, he’d appeared in the West End, playing Gavroche in a production of “Les Misérables,” an experience he now recognizes as an encounter with a queer found family — albeit one shadowed by the toll of the AIDS crisis, which peaked in the U.K. in the mid-1990s.

“When I’m asked about my childhood, there’s so much I don’t remember, and I think that’s true of anyone who’s been in fight or flight for 20 years,” he says. “I would have been in a cast of people whose friends would have died in the last seven years. I think of where I was seven years ago. I had all my gay friends then. It’s only retrospectively that I can retrofit a real gay community around me [in the theater], that I just wasn’t aware of [then].”

During the late 1990s and early 2000s, American and British culture presented queer adolescents with a bewildering array of mixed signals. As beloved celebrities came out in growing numbers, and the battle for marriage equality became a central locus of LGBTQ political organizing, the media continued to propagate harmful stereotypes of gay men as miserable, lonely, perverted or worse — and, Bailey remembers, callously turned George Michael, arrested on suspicion of cruising in a Beverly Hills restroom in 1998, and Irish pop star Stephen Gately, who revealed his sexuality in 1999, fearful he was about to be outed, into tabloid spectacles.

No wonder Bailey, like many LGBTQ people of his generation, should feel the “chemical” thrill of “validation and acceptance” during London Pride at age 18, then embark on a two-year relationship with a woman in his 20s.

“Dangerously, if you’re not exposed to people who can show you other examples of happiness, you think that’s the easiest way to live,” Bailey says. “It’s funny. You look back and you can tell the story in one way, which is that I always knew who I was and my sexuality and my identity within that. But obviously at times, it was really tough. I compromised my own happiness, for sure. And compromised other people’s happiness.”

Disclosures about his personal life have become particularly thorny for the actor since the premiere of “Bridgerton,” the blockbuster bodice-ripper from executive producer Shonda Rhimes.

“The Netflix effect does knock you off center completely,” he says, recalling the experience of finding a paparazzo waiting outside his new flat before he’d even moved in. “Suddenly, you do start having nightmares about people climbing in your windows... Even now, talking about it makes me feel like, ‘Am I inviting people in?’”

He is also critical of the media for churning out headlines about the smallest details of celebrities’ private lives, often detached from their original context. In an interview with the London Evening Standard published in December, Bailey described a harrowing encounter in a Washington, D.C., coffee shop in which a man threatened his life for being queer — and, in recounting the experience, offhandedly mentioned the “lovely man” he’d called, shaken, after it happened. Although Bailey acknowledges that the original story handled the subject with aplomb, he felt dismayed that more attention wasn’t paid to the intended warning about rising anti-LGBTQ sentiment: “The only thing that got syndicated from that story was that I had a boyfriend, and it wasn’t true,” he sighs. “It was kind of depressing, if I’m honest.”

Still, Bailey, who once turned down a role in a queer-themed TV series because it would have required him to speed along revelations about his personal life he wasn’t ready to make, is prepared to embrace the power of vulnerability when it feeds the work. Although a member of his inner circle expressed doubts about “Fellow Travelers’” steamy sex scenes, for instance, the actor intuited that they were what made the project worth doing: “I was like, ‘I’m telling you, they are the reason why this is going to be brilliant.’”

‘He’s changed my trajectory in my own life’

To those who would complain about the state of sex in film and TV, “Fellow Travelers” is the perfect riposte. All of it matters, from Tim’s first flirtation with Hawk to the finale’s closing minutes, because the series, at its core, is about the importance of soft power: the strength required to bend, but not break; to adapt, but not abandon oneself; to survive without shrinking to nothing in the process.And depicting that through sex, specifically gay sex, makes “Fellow Travelers” radical indeed.

Bailey understands that baring so much comes with certain risks. When I tell him that research for the story has filled my algorithmic “For You” feed on X (formerly Twitter) with speculation that his onscreen relationship with Bomer has a real-life element, he notes that “shipping” fictional couples and costars alike has long been part of Hollywood fantasy. But he bristles at the implication that he and Bomer are anything but skilled actors at work.

“I would love for people to know that the success of our chemistry isn’t based on us f—. It’s actually about us leaning into the craft,” he says. “It’s a vulnerable situation to be in, talking about it on record. I don’t want to rob people of their thoughts. But I do have a set of values, and as an artist, you don’t need to be f— to tell that love story.”

Underlying that craft, Bailey adds, is the confidence to speak up, as with one scene in “Fellow Travelers” that was adjusted because he said, “I don’t want to be naked today.” He learned to use his voice the hard way: In his early 20s, he recalls, he was once “bullied” on set when “someone was threatened” by him and vowed to himself, “I’m never going to do that to someone. I’m never going to allow that to happen.”

This impulse to direct his influence in support of others has blossomed further with “Fellow Travelers.” On the day of our interview, Bailey enthuses about an upcoming meeting with legendary gay rights activist Cleve Jones and shares his idea for a docuseries recording the stories of elders in the LGBTQ+ community while they are still here to tell them. He describes lying in a hospital bed on set on World AIDS Day, in character as Tim, surrounded by gay men who had lost friends and lovers during the crisis, and finding himself thinking, “What do I want to leave behind?”

“I think he’s changed my trajectory in my own life,” Bailey says.

This is, perhaps, the most common reaction I know to diving deep into queer history — the understanding that we, like our forerunners, are responsible for shaping the queer future, whether in politics, society or art. No one is going to do it on our behalf.

As we stand on the nondescript corner now named for her, I relate the story of the late queer activist Nancy Valverde, who was arrested repeatedly while a barber school student in the 1950s on suspicion of “masquerading” because of her preference for short hair and men’s clothing, and later successfully challenged her harassment by the police in court.

“What a hero!” Bailey exclaims, wondering at Valverde’s bravery. “The thing that’s so interesting with power battles is, ultimately, identity is the thing that gives you the most strength and power in your life, isn’t it?

“Because that’s one thing people can’t take away from you: who you are and how you express yourself.”

Source

[artificial-transmutations]

Army fantasies

The view from the landing plane was absolutely stunning. The tropical island was swimming in the azure ocean like a precious jewel in bright sunlight. It didn't even look that big, but it was surrounded by the whitest beach Mark had ever seen.

"Dylan, this is amazing! I can't believe that this is where we will spend our honeymoon."

Dylan grinned happily. It hadn't been easy for him to book a honeymoon on this island, mostly because the local government didn't exactly endorse gay marriage. It was not recognized here, and, although homosexuality was not illegal, most people on the island frowned upon it.

After landing and collecting their luggage, they stepped out of the airport into the bright light.

"Welcome to our tropical dream home for the next weeks, Mister Taylor!", Dylan beamed.

"Why thank you, Mister Taylor! I'm very much looking forward to it!"

Once they arrived at the hotel, they were greeted warmly by the receptionist.

"Ah, Mr. Taylor and Mr. Taylor! Welcome to our resort! I trust everything went smoothly with your superiors then?"

Dylan nodded. "Yes ma'am. Our leave request was accepted without problems."

"Excellent! We have prepared your suite already. As discussed, you will be living in the same room, sorry for the inconvenience. But we have at least arranged for separate beds."

"Thank you, ma’am, but this wouldn't have been necessary. We're used to sleep in much more cramped quarters back at the barracks.", Dylan answered.

"Haha, yes, I can imagine." the receptionist smiled warmly and handed them the keys.

As the newlywed couple entered the elevator, Mark smiled at Dylan.

"What was that about? And what's with all the ma'am?"

Dylan laughed. "Well, they wouldn't let a gay couple rent their rooms, so I just told them we were soldiers on leave."

"Really? And they bought that? What's with the last name?"

Dylan shrugged his shoulders. "I told them it's a coincidence. To be honest, until the whole thing with the beds, I thought they understood, and it was just a 'don't talk about it' thing. But apparently, they really believe we're soldiers on leave."

Mark snorted. "That's ridiculous! You don't look anything like a soldier."

Dylan chuckled. "Yeah, well, I guess people really see what they want to see."

They got out of the elevator and walked through the hallway towards their new room.

"I hope we get a good view from our window." Mark said.

"Me too. This place looks great."

The room was wonderful: Spacious and clean, with a large bed in front of the windows. A balcony opened up onto the outside world, offering magnificent views over the ocean.

"This is perfect." Mark sighed happily.

"No... We are perfect", said Dylan with a smug grin. "What do you want to do first?"

"Well..." Mark hesitated for a moment, before he pulled Dylan close and kissed him passionately. He could feel how horny his husband was and knew that he would need to take care of that soon.

"I think we should start by getting undressed."

The evening was wonderful for both of them and neither of the two happy husbands left their room that day. They had pushed their single beds together and woke up in a tight and tender embrace the next morning.

Mark kissed his husband on the lips the next morning. For some reason, even though they had made love for half of the night already.

Dylan woke up smiling. "Good morning Mr. Taylor". Then, as he looked lower, his smile turned into a grin.

"Someone is eager this morning. What are you thinking about?"

"Well... Would you perhaps up for a little role play?" Mark asked, shily.

"Sure, what's on your mind my love?" Dylan gasped a little as Mark had grabbed his cock through the sheets.

"You know how you told everyone we're soldiers? I can't stop thinking about that. How hot would that be?"

Dylan grinned and nodded, quickly joining in.

"Yeah, I can see that. We're just two army boys, bunking together in the barracks."

Dylan softly took Mark's hand from his cock and guided it to Mark's own.

"Of course, we're straight... At least on paper..."

"No, you're right!" Mark was just so horny, that fantasy really worked incredibly well. "We're straight, really straight. Boobs and all that."

Mark massaged his cock through his pants. Why was he wearing pants? It didn't matter.

"Right. Straight as an arrow. But you know, there are no girls in the barracks, so when we get horny..." Dylan continued while also kneading his hardening cock through his camo pants.

"... Which happens a lot, we're real men after all!" Mark chimed in as his hair became a short buzz cut.

" I hear you, bro!" Dylan quickly got rid of his camo vest, revealing his muscular upper body below it. All the drills had left him a perfect specimen of man, and he knew it.

"There's nothing wrong with jerking off together, right?"

Mark had already gotten rid of his shirt as well and had fished out his own ample dick from his pants. He grunted as he started stroking it and continued:

"Yeah, we're bros after all. Sometimes I even let you suck me off when I need it a lot."

Dylan pumped away at his cock full force now. The room had changed in accordance to their fantasy. No longer were they in a luxurious hotel suite, but more and more, the cheap and practical furniture of a room in the barracks materialized around them.

"Of course, I only suck you off if I can pound your ass afterwards. A hole is a hole, after all, no homo!"

"No homo!" Mark agreed, as he continued to rub one out with his bunk mate. God, it had really been too long since he had some decent pussy. The smell of sex and the slapping noise of his fellow soldier close next to him was good, but he needed the real thing once in a while

"What do you say, strip club on our next leave?"

"You bet!" grunted Dylan, already close to release.

Mark grunted heavily as well, before he came all over his chest, with Dylan following right after.

Mark used a shirt of his to clean himself up before throwing it to his mate, who caught it and used it for the same purpose.

"You know", wondered Mark, "sometimes I think those fags have it all figured out. They can have all the sex they want and don't have to deal with chicks."

"Yeah..." answered Dylan slowly. Somewhere deep inside, he wanted Mark to be more than his bunk mate and occasional fuck body, and he was pretty sure Mark was feeling the same way. But they were in the army, and they were real men, not some civilian faggots, so, as always, Dylan swallowed everything else he would have wanted to say and stayed silent, like a good soldier should.

[todaysdocument]

Address of the President in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania

Collection FDR-PPF: Papers as President, President's Personal FileSeries: Speeches of President Franklin D. RooseveltFile Unit: First Carbon Files

ADDRESS OF THE PRESIDENT GETTYSBURG, PENNSYLVANIA May 30, 1934 Governor Pinchot, Mr. Chairman, my friends: What a glorious day this is. I rejoice in it and I rejoice in this splendid celebration of it. I am especially happy to stand here on the field of Gettysburg at the side of a man, who, through all his life, has so splendidly served the cause of progressive government and the cause of humanity, Gifford Pinchot, Governor of Pennsylvania. (Applause) (The foregoing paragraph was extemporaneous and not included in the printed release to the Press.) On these hills of Gettysburg two brave armies of Americans once met in (combat) contest. Not far from here, in a valley likewise consecrated to American valor, a ragged Continental Army survived a bitter winter to keep alive the expiring hope of a new Nation; and near to this battlefield and that valley stands that invincible city where the Declaration of Independence was born and the Constitution of the United States was written by the fathers. Surely, as Congressman Haynes has said, (all) this is holy ground. It was in Philadelphia, too, that Washington spoke his solemn, tender, wise words of farewell -- a farewell not alone to his generation, but to the generation of those who laid down their lives here and to our generation and to the America of tomorrow. Perhaps if our fathers and grandfathers had truly heeded those words we should have had no family quarrel, no battle of Gettysburg, no Appomattox. As a Virginian, President Washington had a natural pride in Virginia; but as an American, in his stately phrase, "the name of American, which belongs to you, in your national capacity, must always exalt the just pride of patriotism, more than any appellation derived from local discrimination." Recognizing the strength of local and State and sectional prejudices and how strong they might grow to be, and how they might take from the national Government some of the loyalty the citizens owed to it, he made three historic tours during his Presidency. One was through New England in 1789, another through the Northern States in 1790, and still another through the Southern States in 1791. He did this, as he said -- and the words sound good nearly a century and a half later -- "In order to

[fatehbaz]

In the district of Garhwal in the Indian Himalayas, at 10,000 feet (3,048 meters) above sea level, forests of sycamore, chestnut, and rhododendron gradually give way to gently sloping grasslands.

Known locally as bugyals (from the Garhwali word bug for soft grasses), these meadows were the favored grazing grounds of communities of trans-Himalayan traders [...]. High-altitude meadows are home to musk deer, moonal pheasants, and a variety of flowers, grasses (such as the scented jambu), medicinal herbs, and roots (jadi butiyan). Garhwali villagers had long used the jadi butiyan of bugyals for household consumption and trade. Customary restrictions [...] made this usage sustainable.

The advent of [...] [colonial and institutional] forestry in the princely state of Tehri-Garhwal (the Tehri Durbar), together with the growth of an urban elite Hindu market for Ayurvedic potions, arguably transformed the social lives of Himalayan herbs. [...]

---

Works by upper-caste elites, such as the Maharaja of Gondal’s Aryan Medical Science (1895), claimed an exclusively “Hindu” provenance for the medicinal practices of Ayurveda. The nationalist reinvention of modern Ayurveda generated a market for medicinal herbs dominated by over a dozen firms by 1910. This emergent urban [...] bourgeois market for herbal medicines provides the context for the Tehri Durbar’s arguably unique project to commodify Himalayan herbs. Whereas the British government was reluctant to expand the plantation and manufacture of indigenous drugs, the Durbar established a separate department for the purpose, called the Vanaspati Karyalaya, that worked closely with the Forest Department.

Subordinated to the British government, the Tehri Durbar had begun contracting out vast swathes of pine and deodar forests to timber traders from the mid-nineteenth century onwards. In 1879 the Durbar’s Forest Department [...] restricted peasant access to common resources. Restrictions on the sale and collection of forest produce were put in place between 1878 and 1885, [...] precipitating numerous forest dhandaks (uprisings) as a consequence. Rules governing forest access changed in response to such protests and by 1930 prohibitions on the collection of and trade in medicinal herbs were lifted in certain areas.

The foundation of the Vanaspati Karyalaya prompted the systematization of the Forest Department’s initial efforts to monetize the collection of herbs through taxes, contracts, and tenders. By 1927 the department was working with the Karyalaya to carry out the sale of medicinal herbs, such as Gugal, Mashi, Atis, and Kawri, yielding an income of 18,294 rupees. [...] From the Durbar’s Annual Reports, [...] the Karyalaya’s preparation of Ayurvedic medicines seemed to have commanded “ready sale” primarily in the domestic market. Subsequently, therefore, the Forest Department focused on the overall sale and plantation of herbs while the Karyalaya specialized in the processing of herbs.

---

Anticipating an extension of markets “as demand for Himalayan medicines grows,” the Durbar charted a project of mass plantation to overcome the “expense and difficulty of searching for herbs of indigenous growth” that were “scattered among other herb plants and weeds.”

The bugyals of Garhwal were thus classified as “wastelands” from which “practically no income at present can be derived.”

This justified plans for the cultivation of aconites such as kut and atis on a projected area of 2,000 square miles (517,997 hectares) of alpine grassland. In the 1930s, the Durbar initiated the plantation of kut in the Ganga Bhillangana Forest Division, employing trained gardeners as well as “coolie” labor to transplant herbs from nurseries to enclosed meadows. Thus, bugyals hitherto controlled by villagers [...] were gradually being enclosed for herb plantations. The Karyalaya also opened a pharmaceutical works just outside the town of Rishikesh at Muni ki Reti [...]. Graduates of [...] colleges in Delhi and Calcutta [...] were hired for these operations. [...] [T]he Tehri Durbar’s move towards the mass plantation and processing of herbs risked dispossessi[on] [...] as well as eliding local knowledges related to jadi butiyan. 

The story of the Vanaspati Karyalaya arguably suggests how complex cultural associations between the Himalayas and healing were becoming commodified.

---

Image, caption, and all text above by: Nivedita Nath. "Histories of Central Himalayan Herbs: Vanaspati Karyalaya in Tehri Princely State c. 1879-1950". Environment & Society Portal, Arcadia (Spring 2020), no. 13. Rachel Carson Center for Environment and Society. doi dot org/10.52982/rcc/9018 [Bold emphasis and some paragraph breaks/contractions added by me. Presented here for commentary, teaching, criticism purposes.]

[reasonsforhope]

Gabon's debts will be reduced by $450 million thanks to an innovative debt-for-nature mechanism. Piloted on Gabon's behalf by Bank of America (BofA), the debt-for-nature mechanism enables developing countries to reduce their external debt in return for funding for their biodiversity. In return, Gabon is protecting part of its marine ecosystem. This is the second case in Africa after the Seychelles.

...Gabon is paying for its biodiversity through the debt-for-nature mechanism. The operation, for which tenders were launched on the London Stock Exchange on 25 July 2023, will enable Gabon to reduce its external debt by up to 450 million dollars (267.1 billion CFA francs). In return, the country is committed to protecting its marine environment, with the support of the US-based non-governmental organisation (NGO) The Nature Conservancy.

Financially, the operation is being led by Bank of America (BofA), the second largest US bank in terms of deposits. A debt-for-nature swap is a debt relief technique for developing countries. It involves extending payment terms, reducing interest rates, granting new loans at low rates and writing off debts. This technique, invented by the American biologist Thomas Lovejoy, considered to be the godfather of biodiversity, involves exchanging part of the foreign debt for local investment in environmental protection measures.

The largest network of marine reserves in Africa

As part of Gabon’s debt-for-nature operation, the choice to protect marine biodiversity is not an insignificant one. Over the years, the Central African country has built up the largest network of rich and diverse marine reserves in Africa. Stretching over 53,000 km2, or 26% of the country’s territorial waters, this environment comprises 20 marine parks and aquatic reserves. It is home to countless threatened marine species, including the largest breeding populations of leatherback and olive ridley turtles, as well as 20 species of dolphins and whales.

Gabon thus becomes the second African country, after the Seychelles, to benefit from the debt-for-nature swap. It’s a swap that should spread throughout Africa... explains Hamouda Chekir, a member of Lazard’s Government Advisory team.

The French bank has just assisted Ecuador with a financial package that benefits both nature and the country’s economy. In concrete terms, Ecuador has swapped its current debt of $1.63 billion for a debt of $656 million, a transaction corresponding to 3% of the South American country’s total external debt, i.e. $48.129 billion in February 2023."

-via Afrik21 (via FutureCrunch), August 1, 2023

[pompomqt]

Journey to the West Chapter 7

Sun Wukong in the Eight Trigrams Brazier:

So when we last left off in Journey to the West with @journeythroughjourneytothewest, Sun Wukong was being hauled away by heaven for execution. So how did that turn out for them? Well... they throw everything they have at him but find that known of their weapons even scratch him and setting him on fire and hitting him with lightning also has no effect. So while they are trying to figure out how to kill Sun Wukong when nothing they throw at him hurts him in anyways Laozi suggests they throw him in the Brazier of the eight Trigrams to separate Sunwukong from the heavenly peaches, wine and divine elixir which had refined in his stomach giving him a diamond body that can't be destroyed. So Laozi throws him in the braizer, but Sun Wukong crawled beneath the 'Xun' or 'Wind' compartment to stay safe from the flames. However the wind churned up smoke giving Sun Wukong his fiery eyes. Forty nine days later they open the brazier to extract the elixir, and we get to add a +1 to Sun Wukong's cry count since at the time of the brazier finally opening, he was 'covering his eyes with both hands, rubbing his face and shedding tears'. Needless to say Sun Wukong bolts out of there the second there is an opening. Sun Wukong definitely seems to be in a lot of distress as he throws off the fire tenders and guardians that try and grab him, and even shoving Laozi over. I think it's also interesting that Sun Wukong- who as we previously saw seems to mostly enjoy combat and exchanging taunts with his enemy is silent for this rampage and seems to be lashing out indiscriminately now. Eventually Sun Wukong fights his way into the Hall of Perfect Light, where Numinous Officer Wang intercepts him, they fight for a while, and eventually 36 thunder deities also jump into the fight. Sun Wukong uses some shapeshifting to transform into a creature with six arms and three heads to keep them all at bay.

With No one in heaven able to take down Sun Wukong, the Jade Emperor sends some gods to ask the Buddha to come and subdue him. So Buddha arrives and interrupts the fight, and Sun Wukong finally speaks for the first time this chapter, demanding to know who he is and why he is interrupting his battle. Buddha introduces himself and asks Sun Wukong why he is so unruly. And Sun Wukong says he is going to over throw the Jade Emperor, and that if he doesn't hand over the Celestial palace to him that there will never be peace. And with that we get to add 'Treason' to Sun Wukong's list of crime for attempting to overthrow the government. Buddha decides to make a wager with Sun Wukong, saying that if Sun Wukong can cloud summersault clear out of the palm of his hand that he will let Sun Wukong have the Celestial Palace, but if he fails it's back to the region below to be a monster for Sun Wukong.

Sun Wukong takes that bet, and cloud summersaults to five flesh pink pillars supporting a mass of green air. In order to prove that he made it here Sun Wukong signs one of the pillars and pee's on it. With that done, he summersaults back to where he started on the palm of Buddha's hand. Sun Wukong claims he made it to the edge of Heaven, but the Buddha directs Sun Wukong's attention to his hand which has been signed, and the smell of monkey pee coming from it. Sun Wukong unwilling to believe it tries to go there once more, but the Buddha overturns his hand, throwing monkey back down to earth as his five fingers becomes the five phases mountain, which manages to pin Sun Wukong down with just enough pressure to trap him. Adding +1 to Wukong's defeats. After that Heaven throws a victory Banquet and showers the Buddha with praise and gifts. Until a god makes a report that the Great Sage is sticking his head out. So the Buddha makes a seal for them to stick on top of the mountain, causing the mountain to grow roots and fuse with the ground. Before the Buddha leaves, he calls upon some local spirits to stand watch over Five Phases mountain and to fee Sun Wukong Iron Pellets when he is hungry and melted copper when he is thirsty. Which personally to me sounds worse then just going hungry and thirsty....

And so there Sun Wukong will remain until his sentence is complete and a certain someone comes to free him...

Current Sun Wukong Stats: Names/Titles: Monkey, The Stone Monkey, The Handsome Monkey King, Sun Wukong (Monkey awakened to the void), Bimawen (Banhorseplague) and The Great Sage Equal To Heaven. Immortality: 5 Weapon: The Compliant Golden Hooped Rod Abilities: 72 Transformations, Cloud-Somersault, Ability to transform his individual hairs, super strength, Ability to Summon Wind, Water restriction charm, and the ability to change into a huge war form, ability to duplicate his staff, ability to immobilize others, the ability to put others to sleep, and the Fiery eyes and Diamond Pupils Demon Kill Count: 1+ Unknown Number of Minions God's Defeated: 19 + Unknown number Defeats: 2 Crime List: Robbery, Murder, Mass Murder, Arson, Theft, Coercion, Threatening a Government Official, Resisting Arrest, Assault, Forgery, Employee Theft, False Imprisonment, Impersonating a Government Official and Treason. Cry Count: 3 Mountains Trapped Under: 1

[bracketsoffear]

The Island of Dr. Moreau (H.G. Wells) "A shipwrecked man, Edward Prendick, reaches a sinister island inhabited by notorious vivisectionist, Doctor Moreau. Prendick suspects that experiments are also being carried out on humans, resulting in hybrid forms; however, the doctor explains that he has actually been changing animals into people."

Tender is the Flesh (Agustina Bazterrica) "Working at the local processing plant, Marcos is in the business of slaughtering humans —though no one calls them that anymore.

His wife has left him, his father is sinking into dementia, and Marcos tries not to think too hard about how he makes a living. After all, it happened so quickly. First, it was reported that an infectious virus has made all animal meat poisonous to humans. Then governments initiated the “Transition.” Now, eating human meat—“special meat”—is legal. Marcos tries to stick to numbers, consignments, processing.

Then one day he’s given a gift: a live specimen of the finest quality. Though he’s aware that any form of personal contact is forbidden on pain of death, little by little he starts to treat her like a human being. And soon, he becomes tortured by what has been lost—and what might still be saved."

[softer-fatter-happier]

what is it about u.s. food that makes you so goddamn fat? i'm an international student and i've really plumped up in only two semesters. all this greasy college cafeteria food really caught up with me and i didn't even try to gain... burgers, fries, chicken tenders, all the fatty pizza... honestly, i'm one encouraging t4t roommate away from becoming a true gainer 💖 what a tragedy it would be if i found one... or, if they wanted to gain with me... we could compare our growing bellies and snuggle, getting takeout in the middle of the night, celebrating every grade with a rewarding feast... 💖💖

Ahhhh omg love that idea! But for what makes American food so fattening? Uhhh I mean all the stuff we put in it and the subsidies the government gives out supports excess production of grains and stuff. Like that and we have literal caves full of cheese because of it (not joking). America is a land of excess and indulgence.

But omg look at you go! Plumping up and enjoying yourself! Food is part of the culture so if you want the best experience I say you really give in and let loose. Get the full experience of your time overseas.

Having a t4t relationship though? 😵‍💫 I would absolutely ballon. Life would be love and bliss and food all the time. Making sure both of you have your favorite snacks… doing midnight snack runs to sheetz or whatever the equivalent is… going to American restaurants like dennys and local restaurants where portion sizes are an after thought… that sounds pretty dreamy doesn’t it? 💖

[aussiepineapple1st]

No rest for the Wicked

Leon x GN!Reader

Words: 1,560 Contains: Angst, blood, comfort, death?🤔.

Summery: You and Leon have been sent out of state to take care of some supposed BOWs. Luckily you were just at an Airbnb and the government will pay for the damages.

Standing in a line at a local coffee cart, you were about to order what you would usually have after a long night of fighting monsters and mutant beings. Leon was back at the Airbnb the government had set you both up in while you took care of the problem. You could feel the tenderness of your side, already bruised from your struggle with one particular BOW. It had pinned you under it's large foot, then booted you across the room. Any movement you made brought immense discomfort in that area, or your entire body for that matter.

You feel your phone buzz ín your pocket, pulling it out you look down to see a simple text from Leon. "hepl" There was no capital at the front and spelt wrong, you know he had sent that to you in a time of panic. You run from the line and towards his Ducati he allows you to drive. Turning the key once it was in the ignition, you take off as fast as possible, memorising the direction to the Airbnb. People were running down the street and you knew, whatever you had thought you'd finished off, had in fact NOT died. "Why can't we just get a break?" You say to yourself as you round the corner and see a large hole in the front of the house. Making sure the stand was up on the bike, you park it across the road and pull your gun from under the back of your thrown over tartan, cotton shirt. Not even stopping to observe the dangers, you heard shots being fired and that's all you needed to know. Without a second thought you needed to help your partner, you enter through the hole in the wall.

As soon as your foot steps on the wooden floorboards, you throw yourself backwards as you see something flying at you from the corner of your eye. Feeling the rush of wind as Leon was thrown passed you and through the dry wall. "Leon!" You call as you look through the new hole, Leon laying in a heap against one of the single beds in the room. Turning around you see the large, now even more mutated creature standing in the living room, it's largest of many eyes locked onto you. "Oh... Shit..." You breath out as you feel your shoulders drop, you were so tired.

Pulling out an ear piece you kept in your pocket at all times, you place it in your ear and press on it, hearing the ringing. "(Y/N)?" Hunnigan answers. "What are you ca-"

"THE BASTARD'S NOT DEAD!!!!" You shout as you dodge a small round table, running towards the kitchen and ducking behind the island bench.

"Where are you? I'll send help!"

"We're at the Airbnb, just hurry up!" You say peeking around the bench and blasting a few rounds into the large eye. You hear the call end in your ear and you look around the bench once again, seeing the creature making it's way to you. Shots ring out from the front of the house as Leon had come back around, he was standing against the threshold of the bedroom he was thrown into. Left hand on his chest as blood ran down the left side of his face, a winced expression wrinkled the bridge of his nose.

"Move!" Leon shouts over to you. Rolling to the right you narrowly miss the giant, bulbous arm, smashing down on the island bench. Water beginning to spray out everywhere as the plumbing for the sink was now crushed. The creature was momentarily stunned from the high pressure spraying into a few of it's many eyes, giving Leon time to run over with a sharp plank of wood, driving it into an eye on it's back.

This causes the creature to thrash around, it's smaller of the two hands whipping around and grabbing Leon by the shoulders, neck and head. You hold up your arm to block the onslaught of water, seeing Leon once again being hoisted into the hair. His legs kicking around, the toe of his right boot repeatedly bashing at the arm holding onto him. He starts to feel a pressure as the BOW was beginning to squeeze, his nails clawing at the hand wrapped around him. You hear a gut wrenching shout coming from him, running over to the monster you pull the pin of a grenade and shove your hand into the largest of the eyes. It releases Leon and he scrambles away holding his right shoulder. You remove your hand from the eye and rush over to kneel over Leon as the grenade goes off. Darkness.

----

After a moment Leon's eyes slowly open, the feeling of water falling on his face as he noticed the weight and warmth on top of his body. The dust had settle from the explosion quickly with the amount of moisture in the air.

"Hey.." Leon reaches a hand up and tips your side. Nothing. This caused a surge of electricity to run through his body, eyes widening as he does his best to sit up. Your body was limp, flopping to the side as his body rose. One of Leon's arms catches you before you could hit the splintered wooden floor, gently laying you on your back. He checks for a pulse. "No no no no!" He immediately starts chest compressions. "Come on! Not like this!" He shouts checking once again for a pulse after a good 30 seconds. "Stay with me!" He demands.

Hearing footsteps entering the ruined house, Leon glanced up quickly seeing a STARS squad member entering. "LEON?! (Y/N)!?" Calls an all too familiar voice.

"Chris! Over here!!" Leon responds still focusing on getting your heart pumping once again. "GET MEDICAL!" His voice cracks, it was strained and full of panic.

Chris immediately calls for his Medic and rushes into the once living room, kneeling down in the spray of water and removing a glove to press his fingers to your wrist. "I've got it." Chris says pulling Leon's hands from your chest and begins to take over. 

A silence falls between the two men as Leon holds your hand on the side he was kneeling, fingers pressed to your wrist trying desperately to find a pulse. There it was. "A pulse!" Leon says quickly and Chris stops compressions as a paramedic was squeezing a resuscitation bag connected to the mask over your nose and mouth. Letting go of the bag they see it suck in as you gasp.

Chris hearing the audible gasp scoops you up into his arms and begins to carry you out of the house, placing you on a stretcher waiting outside the ambulance. Leon was close behind, both men hopping in the back with the medic and you take off. An oxygen mask was placed on you as Leon sits on the floor of the small space, Chris kneeling down with a hand on his shoulder. ECG dots were placed on your chest and sides, now showing your vitals on screen for the three of them to see. 

"(Y/N)'s gonna be fine, Leon." He tries to assure the distressed man huddled in pain, leaning against one of the doors to the back of the vehicle. Leon wipes his eyes free of tears that had been falling silently, not stopping since he heard your gasp.

-----

You find yourself waking up in a hospital room, it was dark outside your window and you had a nice view of the city lights. Leon was seated on the window seat looking out over the bustling city. You note his right arm in a sling and other various bandaids on his cheek and forehead, with bandages wrapped around his hands. Seeing your eyes open in the reflection his head whips around to look at you, immediately on his feet and walking over to you.

"Hey, sleepy head." He said softly, his eyes flicking from you then up to the beeping monitor screen. You could see his eyes becoming glassy as he stands at your side monitoring your oxygen, and heart rate. You reach up to grab his left hand, pulling him out of his thoughts and looks down to you, a single tear escaping his eyes as gravity pulls on it. 

"I'm okay.." You assure him with a tired smile. He couldn't help himself, and leans down to wrap his left arm around you, holding you tight.

"You went into cardiac arrest, I thought I lost you." He speaks softly in your ear. It then hits you how dire the situation was for you and how stressed he would have been. Your chest aches for him as you wrap your arms around his body, you feel the bed dip down at your side a he sits down. "I'm so glad you're still alive, I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Clearly get your head crushed by a BOW." You joked, trying to lighten the mood. Leon exhaled with a breathy chuckle, still holding onto you, not wanting to let you go in case he was dreaming. He didn't want you to slip away from him. 

You lay there with the comforting weight of Leon's body on yours for a while, both basking in the feeling of the other still alive and breathing in your arms. 

🏷️: @phoenix666stuff @maehemthemisfit @greywardensaywhat

[the-garbanzo-annex-jr]

by Ben Cohen A Jewish politician who was forced to resign from her cabinet post in the government of British Columbia over remarks she made that were deemed offensive to Palestinians has announced her decision to quit the caucus of the ruling New Democratic Party (NDP) in the Canadian province, telling her colleagues that “you broke my heart” in the wake of the Oct. 7 Hamas pogrom in southern Israel. Selina Robinson, who served as minister of post-secondary education until last month, told local news outlets that she could no longer support the government, citing its indifference to antisemitism, including among her colleagues in the left-wing NDP. “That’s been my experience,” Robinson told CTV when asked about antisemitism in the NDP caucus. “There’s been history of that. I’m aware of people who have said or done antisemitic things over time. They’ve apologized or not.” Robinson added that she could not “continue to be the only voice speaking up against antisemitism and Jew hatred.” She said she had raised her concerns with British Columbia premier David Eby, but that “I continue to be the only one who is saying we have to do something differently.” “All of this has made Jewish people feel unsafe,” Robinson said. Robinson was compelled to tender her resignation from the cabinet following objections from the increasingly influential pro-Hamas lobby in Canada to a speech she made on Jan. 30, in which she pointed out that in the years prior to the creation of the State of Israel, the land was considered a relatively undeveloped backwater in the Middle East. “They don’t understand that it was a crappy piece of land with nothing on it,” Robinson said during an online panel hosted by a Jewish group, B’nai B’rith Canada. “You know, there were several hundred thousand people but other than that, it didn’t produce an economy. It couldn’t grow things it didn’t have anything on it, and that it was the folks that were displaced that came and had been living there for generations and together they worked hard and they had their own battles.” Despite apologizing for arguing a position that is held by many of the region’s historians and volunteering for Islamophobia training, Robinson said she was shunned by her colleagues, with her own anxieties about antisemitism ignored.

We need stronger Jewish politicians. "If you can't stand the heat," and all that.

[haveyoureadthishorrorbookpoll]

Have you read...

note: If you did not finish but feel you read enough to form an opinion, you may choose a ‘Yes’ option instead of 'Partly' (e.g., Yes, I didn’t like it). Similarly, if you’ve never heard of a book until now but formed an opinion from this post, you may wish to select a “no” option e.g., “No, but I want to.”

Working at the local processing plant, Marcos is in the business of slaughtering humans —though no one calls them that anymore. His wife has left him, his father is sinking into dementia, and Marcos tries not to think too hard about how he makes a living. After all, it happened so quickly. First, it was reported that an infectious virus has made all animal meat poisonous to humans. Then governments initiated the “Transition.” Now, eating human meat—“special meat”—is legal. Marcos tries to stick to numbers, consignments, processing. Then one day he’s given a gift: a live specimen of the finest quality. Though he’s aware that any form of personal contact is forbidden on pain of death, little by little he starts to treat her like a human being. And soon, he becomes tortured by what has been lost—and what might still be saved.

submit a horror book!

[stigmvtas-archived]

green farmer's market - open

Viktor leaned back in their plastic chair - feet propped against the edge of their unauthorized vendor's booth, their gaze lifting up towards whoever'd been obscuring their sunlight. "What? It's fucking - legal. Take it up with the fucking state board," They swung their legs down, leaning forward to snatch the jar of teeth off their tender's table. "They're locally sourced, ethical - probably. Fifty bucks, five for just a handful. Can't tell you whose mouth they came from - government secret."