if you are unable to donate financially to help palestine, you can donate your time by protesting, boycotting, and putting up posters!
if all you have is your device and internet access, you can put your clicks to good use on arab.org. they use the advertising revenue generated by your clicks to help good causes.
and i would urge those able to spare a few dollars to donate to one or more of the following organizations:
I was today years old when I learnt about what those symbols in Aboriginal art represented I honestly can't believe we never got taught that, even when I was studying art. I always assumed they had meaning but no one [no white person] had ever bothered to mention it. I'm glad I learnt something new today.
Yeah, I think a lot of people tend to look down on Aboriginal art because they think it's a form of abstract art that is just lines and shapes but almost all of them tell a story. Sometimes it's a very obvious story, such as the emu dreaming where the waterhole flooded, and sometimes it's more symbolic.
the circle in the middle is a waterhole/dam or billabong. The squiggly lines coming out of it are small rivers. the dots represent the earth but because they are in neat lines, it almost feels as if they have been flattened by the flooded water, especially as the vector lines draw out from the waterhole in the middle. the emu tracks are heading toward the waterhole, and the three lines in the middle are marks left by their tail, implying that they are wading through the mud to get there.
It's a birdseye view of a moment just after the waterhole floods and afterwards the emus go looking for food.
It's Interesting, because the original artist D. J. Ross was from Yuendumu which is in central australia, so this would have been a rare time that there was enough rain to flood the waterhole.
Dreaming stories, kinship links, sacred rites, keeping track of biodiversity and songlines are some other topics covered by Aboriginal art.
In the same way monet painted the middle class and the local landscape in the late 1800's/early 1900's Aboriginal people also paint the average lifestyle of our people. It just looks different.
For example, this picture shows a LOT of activity. The men at the top left of the picture are doing a cultural burn near and around a sacred site, the women at the bottom left are digging for food. across the river, on the right the people are preparing food and in the center, two people (presumably elders) are preparing for a ceremony.
I wouldn't say these all happened at the same time, more that this was a common undertaking over a set of time.
it takes time to understand and not all symbols are the same in all areas, but once you do understand them it becomes easier to see the story being told.
So yeah, I hope this gives you the chance to look at Aboriginal art with new eyes
My child, who spends their entire life being transfered from home to car to school and back, and is not allowed to leave the house or talk to anyone and can only in their wildest dreams imagine a life free from constant surveillance, is very sad. Obviously they're dumb and lazy, like all kids these days.
kind of a tangent but i recently went to a bowling alley with my friend i'm 19 he's 18 and the woman at the door didn't want to let us in because there was a sign saying under-18s needed adult supervision. everything got cleared up and we were able to go bowl, but i'm still so mad about the fact that kids need adult supervision to go to a bowling alley and arcade. like okay maybe young kids should have supervision but what do you mean middle and high schoolers need to hold mommy's hand while they play video games. kids aren't just addicted to their phones because phones are addicting, we're addicted to our phones because there's nothing else to fucking do
I'm sure banning kids from online spaces while simultaneously not ensuring that they have access to offline spaces to socialize in (without having to rely on their parents who already don't have time for them) will help them feel better & less alienated from society.
And while this is happening while people are buried under rubble, while children freeze in tents, while entire families vanish overnight powerful men sit comfortably and present plans for a “New Gaza.”
Clean slides. Perfect buildings. Investment numbers. A future imagined without the people who are currently being erased.
They talk about peace while bombs are still falling. They talk about rebuilding while destruction is ongoing. They draw maps over land that is soaked with blood and call it hope.
The ceasefire is a lie.
What’s happening is ethnic cleansing, repackaged with the language of development and diplomacy. You cannot build a “new” city by destroying the people who belong to it. You cannot promise a future while actively killing the present.
This isn’t peace. It’s violence with better branding.
Today, three journalists were killed in a single airstrike.
Not soldiers. Not fighters. Journalists. People who believed that if they kept documenting, if they kept filming, if they kept writing, the world would eventually care.
In Gaza, telling the truth has become one of the most dangerous things you can do. Holding a camera is treated like holding a weapon. Every photo risks your life. Every report could be your last.
They had names. Families. People waiting for them to come home. They were not numbers, and they were not mistakes. They were silenced because truth is inconvenient, because images expose what statements try to hide.
When journalists are killed, it’s not just lives that are lost it’s evidence. It’s memory. It’s the last barrier between reality and denial.
…
Donations for GAZA
This donation campaign is for ANAS family. Not for strangers, not for a cause I’m distant from but for the people who raised me, the people I love, the people I’m terrified of losing.
They are in Gaza, trying to survive something no human being should ever have to endure. Constant bombardment, displacement, hunger, fear, and the feeling that tomorrow is never guaranteed. Every day is about staying alive one more night.
If you choose to help, you are not donating to an abstract crisis. You are helping real people with names, memories, and lives that matter to me more than anything.
🔗 This is a verified Chuffed campaign to support family:
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#genuinely: this is what further research into the famous 'marshmallow test' showed#it wasn't that kids who were able to delay gratification were more likely to be successful later on#due to intrinsic qualities#it was that kids who had a stable upbringing were more likely to be successful#and ALSO: those kids had trust that their caregivers would keep promises#which is WHY they were willing to give up one marshmallow now for the promise of two marshmallows later#kids who did NOT have trustworthy caregivers#or who were in a fundamentally unstable situation#DID NOT have that trust so they wanted their one marshmallow NOW#same deal here i think#it's not that Gen Z is bratty#it's that they have no trust in the system and no faith that promises will be fulfilled#and frankly i do not blame them -@cicerfics
"I can never get it tasting like my mom used to make" yeah, because your mom had a giant Costco-size bottle of a specific pre-mixed spice blend that was discontinued by its manufacturer in 1998 and spent your entire childhood putting it in every meal to use the stupid thing up faster – she doesn't know how to replicate it any more than you do.
The tragedy of culinary nostalgia is that most of the time, the flavours of your childhood aren't memories of lost secret recipes – they're the irreplicable accidents of folks tossing whatever happened to be cheap and available into the pot, and there are no recipes to recover because the people doing the cooking never knew them.
I am reminded of this reddit post and update, from a person seeking to recreate a dish their mum used to make based on not much more than "chicken, peaches, and it was beige".
I am a pretty competent cook, so don't worry about that bit. I just want to know if this dish sounds familiar, so someone can fill me in on the parts I don't remember.
It's a chicken dish made with flat chicken cutlets. I think she used to hammer them a bit with a kitchen mallet, dredge them in flour, and pan fry them in a little butter so they would brown nicely.
The sauce is the part I am a little lost about. She used white wine (probably chardonnay) and sour cream, that part I am sure of. There were canned peaches too, which were slightly browned and served on top. I'm sure there was something more to it than that, any thoughts?
The flavor was tangy, not particularly sweet except for the peaches, and the sauce was opaque and kind of a beige color. Does this sound like a dish you are aware of? While her food was great, her dishes were usually pretty simple. It is likely that this is not something she invented herself, but it might be something that she simplified. Does anyone know what this is or what it is called so I can look it up and try and get it right?
She used to serve it with grilled zucchini brushed with garlic butter.
Thank you.
Edit -- I am blown away with how helpful and kind you all have been. I have taken little hints from each of your posts and a lot of them have jogged my memory. I think some sort of composite from these suggestions will produce something close. I am going to try to make it when I have the chance, and I will update when I do. Thank you, reddit. <3
Update 6 days later:
My mom passed away a few years ago. I needed help trying to recreate a chicken recipe of hers that I have been craving, because I could only remember a few ingredients. You amazing people of r/recipes came through and gave me so many wonderful suggestions. With a mix of all your advice, I made it tonight.
I was nervous as I was putting it together. I felt like there had to be something more to it, but I went with using just the ingredients I knew (as suggested by Ethril). I felt like there was something I was forgetting. Something about brown specks in the sauce. I went with it anyway, and figured I would know what to add at the end by taste.
I took chicken cutlets and hammered them flat. Dredged in flour and sauteed in butter (high heat). I burned the butter a little. I remembered my mom saying that butter is the one thing that is ok to burn (as long as it is not smoking furiously) so I left it alone, and smiled at the memory. I was pleased to see the chicken brown to the color I remember. When I flipped the chicken I added the zucchini spears and browned those too. When the chicken was done (just a couple minutes) I set it aside and covered it in tinfoil to keep it warm, then turned the zucchini and browned the peaches in the same pan. It only took a few minutes to brown everything and when the zucchini and peaches were done I put them aside with the chicken.
I deglazed the empty pan with chardonnay. My mom wasn't a big wine person, so I went with the cheapest they had. I suddenly remembered that sound the wine would make when it hit the hot pan, a huge hiss. Mom used to tell me to step back before she poured it in, because it would splash a little. I felt like I was nine years old again.
I added three big dollops of sour cream and dissolved it in the hot wine. I didn't know what I was going to do next, this was all I had planned. Then I saw the little brown flecks come up. It was that burned butter! I just about cried. I tasted it, and suddenly in my mind I was standing in her kitchen as a kid watching her cook. This was it. It was that simple.
I added a couple spoonfuls of the liquid from the canned peaches to take away a little of the wine's tartness, and the sauce was perfect. Just like she used to make.
Keep in mind that I am no food stylist, but I assure you that this tasted 10x better than it looks: http://i.imgur.com/Qgk6u.jpg
The whole thing took less than 20 minutes to make. And I fucking nailed it. Thank you so, so much reddit! You brought me back, and I love you. The smell is still lingering in the house.
