“I’m so rational. The truth is somewhere in the middle, they’re both wrong. I’m so nuanced and enlightened with my views.”
What they actually sound like:
“History and context are things that do not exist to me. In whatever dimension I exist in, I believe that there is an equivalence between an advanced occupying army that is notorious for war crimes, and an occupied brutalized population.”
How much land was actually "given" to the Israelis by the UN, as Israelis claim?
I take it you mean the 1947 partition plan. Alright, this might be a tad bit long, but let’s talk about that, shall we?
The 1947 partition plan, was a framework proposed by the UN in an attempt to divide historical Palestine into 2 states for 2 peoples. This was to be implemented at the end of the British Mandate of Palestine. There would be as they named it one “Arab state”, and one “Jewish state”. Jerusalem would remain an international city open for all.
Unsurprisingly, the Palestinians and the rest of the Arabs, refused this. Why? Let’s go over the basics. And I mean the very bare basics, you could write a book on this, so I’m just sticking to the essentials.
A common argument I see from a lot of pro-Israelis, is that Palestinians had the chance to have peace, and have a state of their own if they had just accepted this plan. The state we could have gotten, would have been much larger and all of this fighting would have been unnecessary.
As you know, historical Palestine has always had a Jewish community. This was never contested, there never were issues with the indigenous Jewish Palestinians.
No, the root of the matter truly began with Zionism. Zionism was an ideology developed by Theodor Herzl (and others) that promoted the creation of a Jewish state. This ideology in practice is basically very heavy on the settler colonialism. If you read any of Herzl’s books you will find them chock full of “White man’s burden” mimicry, and other examples that would make any colonial proud.
There were many candidates for the location of this Jewish state, including Argentina, but in the end they chose Palestine, despite the fact that Palestine was already inhabited.
The first significant waves of European Zionist migration began at the end of the 19th century. So in the 1880s upward. The partition plan was proposed in 1947. So by the time this plan came along, the vast majority of the Zionist population in Palestine had barely been on the land for a few decades, at most.
Despite this massive immigration to Palestine, the Zionist population was still a minority. The most generous of estimates are that they made up only a third of the population, and owned land no more than 6-7% of historical Palestine.
So what exactly were the specifics of the partition plan?
The “Arab” state, despite the Arab Palestinians being the vast majority, would receive ~43% of the land of historical Palestine, relegating them to the mountainous regions, a third of the coast, and losing any access to the red sea.
The “Jewish” state, despite the Zionists being a minority with not a single district outside of Yaffa having a Jewish population majority (port city, most immigrants off the boat ended there), were given around ~56% of the land of historical Palestine. With the majority of the coastline and fertile agricultural lands.
Btw, just to show how small the Zionist population was, even the “Jewish” state would have only had a 55% Jewish population.
So, answer me this: Why should the indigenous population give up more than half of their historical homeland? What sense would that make? And not only that, they’d be giving it up for a minority of newcomers fresh off the boat. Who in their right mind would not resist this?
This is not a question of living together peacefully, the only way Zionists could have their self determination in this context was to deny Palestinians their self determination. The only way they could have a Jewish state with a vast Jewish majority (A Zionist goal), was if the Palestinians were removed from the picture. And we were.
Just so you understand what I mean by this, here is but one example of a quote from David Ben Gurion, the first Prime Minister of Israel in 1948:
"We must use terror, assassination, intimidation, land confiscation, and the cutting of all social services to rid the Galilee of its Arab population."
So when people ask me why we didn’t accept the 1947 partition plan..the only thing I can think of is this line by Ghassan Kanafani:
“They rob you of your bread, but leave you a small chunk, they then command you to thank them for their generosity. Oh their audacity.”
i dont quite understand egypts support of zionism. could you help me out?
Egyptians have always had contempt for Palestinians, even back in the 1940s. The soldiers who occupied Gaza during that time period had a saying that was a play on the Arabic name for Palestine falasṭīn›: اولها فلس وآخرها طين ‹ˀawwalha falas w ˀāxerha ṭīn› “It begins with bankruptcy and ends with mud.”
Overall, however, Egyptians largely sympathized with the Palestinian people and their plight. However, after Sadat made Egypt an ally of Israel, the autocratic regime needed to justify this state of affairs to a population that opposed that move. So over the years, Egyptians have been inundated with anti-Palestinian propaganda. In recent years, the regime before and after 2011 has taken advantage of opposition to the MB to portray Gaza as an MB base. this is why many Egyptians have actually been celebrating the deaths of Palestinians.
Incidentally, if you google the Arabic phrase I mentioned above, you get modern-day Egyptians still repeating it. This article in Arabic, which regurgitates the worst zionist lies about us, is a prime example.
Finally, I would like to note that Egyptian antipathy to Palestinians isn’t unique to them. Other Arab states have also needed to justify their pro-Israel policies to their populations by racist propaganda, too. However, only the Egyptians are directly collaborating with the Israelis to blockade the Palestinians in Gaza, so their antipathy actually crosses the line into acts of war.
Israel claims that it is merely exercising its right to self-defense, that Gaza is no longer occupied and that its recent attack was provoked by rocket fire from Hamas. Here’s what you need to know about these talking points.
1) Israel is exercising its right to self-defense.
As the occupying power of the Gaza Strip, and the Palestinian Territories more broadly, Israel has an obligation and a duty to protect the civilians under its occupation. It governs by military and law enforcement authority to maintain order, protect itself and protect the civilian population under its occupation. It cannot simultaneously occupy the territory, thus usurping the self-governing powers that would otherwise belong to Palestinians, and declare war upon them. These contradictory policies (occupying a land and then declaring war on it) make the Palestinian population doubly vulnerable.
The precarious and unstable conditions in the Gaza Strip from which Palestinians suffer are Israel’s responsibility. Israel argues that it can invoke the right to self-defense under international law as defined in Article 51 of the UN Charter. The International Court of Justice, however, rejected this faulty legal interpretation in its 2004 Advisory Opinion. The ICJ explained that an armed attack that would trigger Article 51 must be attributable to a sovereign state, but the armed attacks by Palestinians emerge from within Israel’s jurisdictional control. Israel does have the right to defend itself against rocket attacks, but it must do so in accordance with occupation law and not other laws of war. Occupation law ensures greater protection for the civilian population. The other laws of war balance military advantage and civilian suffering. The statement that “no country would tolerate rocket fire from a neighboring country” is therefore both a diversion and baseless.
Israel denies Palestinians the right to govern and protect themselves, while simultaneously invoking the right to self-defense. This is a conundrum and a violation of international law, one that Israel deliberately created to evade accountability.
I feel like I just leveled up on my geek cred. We were standing in the street talking when some guy walked by wearing a “Darmok and Jalad at Tanagra” t-shirt and I’m all “Hey, that’s Star Trek!” Thanks, Netflix.
So apparently in my sister’s class, there was a trans girl that had been on the cheerleading squad for a while. When she came out, the other girls on the squad made the agreement that whatever boy made fun of her would never get a date. And if you think that’s not the most metal girl alliance ever, you can sit down.
Academics have developed complicated theories and obscure jargon in an effort to describe what is now referred to as structural racism, yet the concept is fairly straightforward. One theorist, Iris Marion Young, relying on a famous “birdcage” metaphor, explains it this way: If one thinks about racism by examining only one wire of the cage, or one form of disadvantage, it is difficult to understand how and why the bird is trapped. Only a large number of wires arranged in a specific way, and connected with one another, serve to enclose the bird and ensure it cannot escape.
What is particularly important to keep in mind is that any given wire of the cage may or may not be specifically developed for the purpose of trapping the bird, yet it still operates (together with other wires) to restrict its freedom.
“When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives mean the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares”—Henri J.M. Nouwen (via observando)
“This is what it feels like to be black in America. It sounds like the symphony of locking car doors as I traipse through a grocery store parking lot, armed with kale chips and turkey bacon. It looks like smiling when I don’t feel like it. It’s the instinct to enunciate differently, to use acceptable methods of signaling that I am safe to engage, or at least to disregard. “We wear the mask that grins and lies,” wrote the poet Paul Laurence Dunbar. I feel that mask covering my soul, never allowing me to just freely exist.
I could argue that any negative reaction to my skin is a problem for others to grapple with and of no concern to me. I’ve tried that approach before; one memorable attempt ended with me being pulled out of my car by two police officers and handcuffed for the felonious infractions of having a blown headlight and insufficient self-abasement. It is an unspoken rule that blackness’ first and most important task is to make everyone feel safe from it. We ignore this mandate at our own peril, realizing that a simple misunderstanding is a life or death proposition.
Jonathan Ferrell ran towards police seeking help after a car accident and was given a hail of bullets for his troubles. Renisha McBride went in search of a Good Samaritan after her accident and a shotgun blast answered her knock. Teenager Trayvon Martin walked home with candy and tea and was greeted by the nervous trigger finger wrapped in an adult’s gun. Jordan Davis sat in a car outside a convenience store listening to music and a man who objected to the volume cut his life short with the boom of a firearm. The principal crime all of them committed, like countless others over the centuries, was being black and not sufficiently prostrating themselves to ensure the comfort of others.”—Theodore R. Johnson, “Black History Month Isn’t Making Life Better for Black Americans” (via thisiswhitehistory)
21 Tips to Keep Your Shit Together When You’re Depressed.
A while ago, I penned a fairly angry response to something circulating on the internet – the 21 Habits of Happy People. It pissed me off beyond belief, that there was an inference that if you weren’t Happy, you simply weren’t doing the right things.
I’ve had depression for as long as I can remember. It’s manifested in different ways. I did therapy. I did prozac. I did more therapy. My baseline is melancholic. I’d just made peace with it when I moved, unintentionally, to a place that had markedly less sunshine in the winter. I got seasonal depression. I got that under control. Then I got really, really sick. Turns out it’s a permanent, painful genetic disorder. My last pain-free day was four years ago.
So, this Cult of Happy article just set me off. Just… anger. Rage. Depression is serious – debilitating, often dangerous, and it’s got an enormous stigma. It leaves people to fend for themselves.
It’s bad enough without people ramming Happy Tips at you through facebook. There is no miracle behaviour change that will flip that switch for you. I know, I’ve tried.
A friend of mine suggested that I write something from my point of view because, surprisingly, I manage to give an outwards impression of having my shit together. I was shocked to hear this. And I find this comical, but I see her point. I’m functioning. I’ve adapted. I’m surprisingly okay. I think the medical term is “resilient”.
So, here it is.
My 21 Tips on Keeping Your Shit Together During Depression
1) Know that you’re not alone. Know that we are a silent legion, who, every day face the solipsism and judgement of Happy People Who Think We Just Aren’t Trying. There are people who are depressed, people who have been depressed, and people who just haven’t been hit with it yet.
2) Understand that the Happy People are usually acting out of some genuine (albeit misguided) concern for you, that it’s coming from a good place, even if the advice feels like you’re being blamed for your disease. Telling you these things makes them feel better, even if it makes you feel like shit. (If they insist on keeping it up, see #12.)
3) Enlist the help of a professional. See your doctor. You need to talk about the ugly shit, and there are people paid to listen and help you find your way to the light at the end of the tunnel.
4) Understand that antidepressants will only do so much. They’re useful, they’ll level you out and give you the time you need to figure out your own path to getting well. They can be helpful. There are lots to choose from. They may not be for you, and even if they are, they take some time to kick in. Conversely, they may not be for you. Work with your doctor.
5) Pick up a paintbrush, a pencil, an activity you got joy from in the past and re-explore that. Or, sign up for the thing you always wanted to try. There is a long history and link between depression and creativity. It’s a bright light of this condition, so utilize it to your best advantage.
6) Eat nutritionally sound, regular small meals. If you’re having trouble eating, try to focus on what you’d like to eat. I went through a whole six week episode of tomatoes and cream cheese on a bagel twice a day. Not great, but it was something – helpful context, I’m a recovered anorexic. Conversely, if all you want to do is scarf down crap, try to off-ramp it by downing a V-8 and doing #9 for 15 minutes, and see how you feel. Chucking your blood sugar all over hell’s half acre is going to make you feel worse.
7) While you’re doing #3, get some bloodwork done. If you’re low on iron or vitamin D, or if your hormone levels are doing the Macarena… these can all contribute to zapping your energy or switching your mood to Bleak As Hell.
8) If you’re in bed and the “insomnia hamsters”, as I like to call them, are on the wheel of your head, watch Nightly Business News on PBS. This has the effect of Nyquil. Swap out your coffee for herbal tea. If you just cannot sleep, try the next tip….
9) Learn how to meditate. Start by focusing on your breathing. Not sleep, not thoughts. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Meditation is focusing on being present in your body, not careening around in your brain. It may not be as good as sleep but it will give you some rest and recharge you.
10) Face a window as often as you can – at work, at home. Look out into the world. Watch. Observe. Try to find something you find pretty or interesting to focus on. And, handily remember that one in five of those people out there feel the way you do.
11) Cry. Better out than in. Sometimes it’s not convenient or career-enhancing to cry, so find a private place as best you can and let the tears go. Carry Kleenex and face wipes and extra concealer if you wear makeup. You can always claim allergies.
12) Any “friend” who resolutely believes that your depression is because you’re lazy, because you’re not trying hard enough, who blames you for not bootstrapping out of it- that friend needs to be cut off. Polite (#2) is one thing, but there is a limit. You don’t have to explain, you can just not respond. You feel badly enough, you don’t need their “assistance”.
13) Limit your time with people who drain you. You know who they are. Often you don’t have a choice- but you can put the meter on. And, subsequently, be aware of what you’re asking of those close to you.
14) Everyone has shit they’ve got to deal with. What you have been saddled with is your shit. Recognize, just as you’re not alone, you’re also not unique. The grass may look greener, you may be jealous or envious of others who don’t have to deal with depression, but you likely do not know everything that’s going on with them.
15) Let go or be dragged. This is an old Buddhist saying. It’s a very useful way to frame aspects of depression. Betrayal, anger, fear… letting go is a process – often a painful and difficult process - but it’s ultimately going to show you the path out of this terrible place. Repeating the mantra can help when you’re feeling gripped by these feelings.
16) Wear clothes that make you feel confident. It takes as much time to put on nice clothes as it does to put on sweatpants. You will want to wear the sweatpants. Fight the urge. The whole “look good/feel better” campaign isn’t limited to cancer and chemotherapy. Or women.
17) Avoid fictional drama and tragedy like the plague. No Grey’s Anatomy, no to The Notebook, or anything that won a Pulitzer prize. You’ve got enough going on In Real Life. Comedy only. Or trashy stuff. Old episodes of WonderWoman? I’ve got the box set. Mindless drivel, like the latest CGI blockbuster. Or clever, funny books. David Sedaris. Jenny Lawson. Fiction exists to elicit emotion, and the emotion you need to express most right now is laughter.
18) Simple exercise, if you can. It can be something as simple as taking the stairs up a flight, or walking around the block. It doesn’t have to be elaborate, it doesn’t have to involve climbing a mountain or running a marathon. Baby steps.
19) Depression will lie to you. Depression will try to tell you what others are thinking. That you are unloved and unworthy, that others think little of you or don’t care – or even wish you harm. You are not a psychic. Keep repeating that. “I am not a psychic”. Repeat. The only way to know what another person is thinking is to up and ask them.
20) If you are well and truly losing this battle, reach out to someone. I’ve been the random friendly-but-not-close person who has fielded the occasional outreach. I like to think I’m not judgemental and generally resourceful, and others have thought the same, so they called and asked. You know someone like me. And they will help you.
21) Forgive yourself. I’m writing out all these tips, and I can’t always muster the strength to even stick my nose outside, or walk up the stairs, or eat my vegetables. Today, I got outside for ten minutes. I will try again tomorrow. And I will try again the day after that.
I’m real tired of seeing skinny white kids painted as THE AVERAGE QUEER. Like please show me a curvy Indian agender kid from Brooklyn, a hispanic lesbian and her black girlfriend. A trans demisexual dude from Korea. GIVE ME SOMETHING OTHER THAN LANKY PALE PEOPLE WITH COLORFUL HAIR PLEASE GOD.
Dear young Black men. Sag your pants if you want to. Wear super tight skinny jeans if you want to. Wear hoodies if you want to. Wear your long locks, your dashiki, cover yourself in tattoos - yes even on your face. Wear all white. It is not true that if we dress the way that whiteness determine is the most ‘professional’ that you will be granted more freedom, more jobs, better salaries or will it keep you out of prison. The prison is full of generations of Black men who never sagged their pants at all. Black men have never made more than .74 for every dollar a white man makes extending as far back to 1970, when it was .69 and I imagine these men were not sagging their pants either.
When white people went all the way to the African continent to get out of doing work (only to turn around and call us lazy after African enslaved people have literally done all the work) and they saw us as kings, queens, farmers, artists, weavers and we were also not sagging our pants, they still began a genocide whose effects persist even today. If that was all it took, just to dress like they say, or speak like they say and only when spoken to, then don’t you think our ancestors would have tried that? And in fact many of them did, tried very hard to meet all the standards that were established, assimilated into their schools, adopted their religion, speaking their language and we still are not free. Black men get shot and murdered in suits, and sweaters, black boys in tshirts and hoodies. The way that they dress has NOTHING to do with the war that has been declared on their bodies. I applaud every Black man trying to stay alive, saying fuck you to #respectabilitypolitics with your braidup tight and the ones who hold their own in a suit and those wearing long robes. I will always fight for your right to wear whatever you please, and to have the self-determination to make your own choices about your bodies.
“Yesterday, I spent 60 dollars on groceries,
took the bus home,
carried both bags with two good arms back to my studio apartment
and cooked myself dinner.
You and I may have different definitions of a good day.
This week, I paid my rent and my credit card bill,
worked 60 hours between my two jobs,
only saw the sun on my cigarette breaks
and slept like a rock.
Flossed in the morning,
locked my door,
and remembered to buy eggs.
My mother is proud of me.
It is not the kind of pride she brags about at the golf course.
She doesn’t combat topics like, ”My daughter got into Yale”
with, ”Oh yeah, my daughter remembered to buy eggs”
But she is proud.
See, she remembers what came before this.
The weeks where I forgot how to use my muscles,
how I would stay as silent as a thick fog for weeks.
She thought each phone call from an unknown number was the notice of my suicide.
These were the bad days.
My life was a gift that I wanted to return.
My head was a house of leaking faucets and burnt-out lightbulbs.
Depression, is a good lover.
So attentive; has this innate way of making everything about you.
And it is easy to forget that your bedroom is not the world,
That the dark shadows your pain casts is not mood-lighting.
It is easier to stay in this abusive relationship than fix the problems it has created.
Today, I slept in until 10,
cleaned every dish I own,
fought with the bank,
took care of paperwork.
You and I might have different definitions of adulthood.
I don’t work for salary, I didn’t graduate from college,
but I don’t speak for others anymore,
and I don’t regret anything I can’t genuinely apologize for.
And my mother is proud of me.
I burned down a house of depression,
I painted over murals of greyscale,
and it was hard to rewrite my life into one I wanted to live
But today, I want to live.
I didn’t salivate over sharp knives,
or envy the boy who tossed himself off the Brooklyn bridge.
I just cleaned my bathroom,
did the laundry,
called my brother.
Told him, “it was a good day.”—Kait Rokowski (A Good Day)
“The requirement that a woman maintain a smooth and hairless skin carries further the theme of inexperience, for an infantilized face must accompany her infantilized body, a face that never ages or furrows its brow in thought. The face of the ideally feminine woman must never display the marks of character, wisdom, and experience that we so admire in men.”—Sandra Lee Bartky, Foucault, Femininity and the Modernization of Patriarchal Power (via spittingonhegel)
It’s funny how I’ve grown up hearing that the United States is the greatest country on earth only to reach adulthood and find out that many other countries handle education, healthcare, gun control, incarceration (as in less people, not more), and the overall economy better that we do and they spend less money doing it.
I feel like all this patriotism is just overcompensating.
so I had to make a lamp for pottery and sculpture II so I worked on my project all day today and every time people looked at me weird bc they were expecting like a bedazzled lampshades or some shit and I’m not about that so I got finished and went over to my teacher holding this huge motherfucker
and everyone was just staring at me like “what the fuck is this thing??? what???” and then I plugged it in