
Product Placement
Not today Justin
cherry valley forever

oozey mess
Keni

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Show & Tell
Game of Thrones Daily

if i look back, i am lost

izzy's playlists!
One Nice Bug Per Day
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
d e v o n
Claire Keane
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
taylor price

Kaledo Art

Andulka
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
occasionally subtle

seen from Portugal
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seen from Canada
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seen from United Kingdom

seen from Bangladesh
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@university-adversity
[singular] y’all
[plural] all y’all
3. [alternate plural] all'a y'all
4. [possessive pronoun] y’all’s 5. [future tense] y’all’ll
6. [fuck ass texan] y'all'dn’t’ve
I don’t believe in genius. I believe in hard work.
(via coffeemuggermd)
Murtaza Hussain — Malala and Nabila: worlds apart
Unlike Malala Yousafzai, Nabila Rehman did not receive a welcoming greeting in Washington DC.
Nov. 1 2013
On October 24, 2012 a Predator drone flying over North Waziristan came upon eight-year old Nabila Rehman, her siblings, and their grandmother as they worked in a field beside their village home. Her grandmother, Momina Bibi, was teaching the children how to pick okra as the family prepared for the coming Eid holiday. However on this day the terrible event would occur that would forever alter the course of this family’s life. In the sky the children suddenly heard the distinctive buzzing sound emitted by the CIA-operated drones - a familiar sound to those in the rural Pakistani villages which are stalked by them 24 hours a day - followed by two loud clicks. The unmanned aircraft released its deadly payload onto the Rehman family, and in an instant the lives of these children were transformed into a nightmare of pain, confusion and terror. Seven children were wounded, and Nabila’s grandmother was killed before her eyes, an act for which no apology, explanation or justification has ever been given.
This past week Nabila, her schoolteacher father, and her 12-year-old brother travelled to Washington DC to tell their story and to seek answers about the events of that day. However, despite overcoming incredible obstacles in order to travel from their remote village to the United States, Nabila and her family were roundly ignored. At the Congressional hearing where they gave testimony, only five out of 430 representatives showed up. In the words of Nabila’s father to those few who did attend: "My daughter does not have the face of a terrorist and neither did my mother. It just doesn’t make sense to me, why this happened… as a teacher, I wanted to educate Americans and let them know my children have been injured."
The translator broke down in tears while recounting their story, but the government made it a point to snub this family and ignore the tragedy it had caused to them. Nabila, a slight girl of nine with striking hazel eyes, asked a simple question in her testimony: “What did my grandmother do wrong?” There was no one to answer this question, and few who cared to even listen. Symbolic of the utter contempt in which the government holds the people it claims to be liberating, while the Rehmans recounted their plight, Barack Obama was spending the same time meeting with the CEO of weapons manufacturer Lockheed Martin.
Selective Memory
It is useful to contrast the American response to Nabila Rehman with that of Malala Yousafzai, a young girl who was nearly assassinated by the Pakistani Taliban. While Malala was feted by Western media figures, politicians and civic leaders for her heroism, Nabila has become simply another one of the millions of nameless, faceless people who have had their lives destroyed over the past decade of American wars. The reason for this glaring discrepancy is obvious. Since Malala was a victim of the Taliban, she, despite her protestations, was seen as a potential tool of political propaganda to be utilized by war advocates. She could be used as the human face of their effort, a symbol of the purported decency of their cause, the type of little girl on behalf of whom the United States and its allies can say they have been unleashing such incredible bloodshed. Tellingly, many of those who took up her name and image as a symbol of the justness of American military action in the Muslim world did not even care enough to listen to her own words or feelings about the subject.
As described by the Washington Post's Max Fisher:
Western fawning over Malala has become less about her efforts to improve conditions for girls in Pakistan, or certainly about the struggles of millions of girls in Pakistan, and more about our own desire to make ourselves feel warm and fuzzy with a celebrity and an easy message. It’s a way of letting ourselves off the hook, convincing ourselves that it’s simple matter of good guys vs bad guys, that we’re on the right side and that everything is okay.
But where does Nabila fit into this picture? If extrajudicial killings, drone strikes and torture are in fact all part of a just-cause associated with the liberation of the people of Pakistan, Afghanistan and elsewhere, where is the sympathy or even simple recognition for the devastation this war has caused to countless little girls such as her? The answer is clear: The only people to be recognized for their suffering in this conflict are those who fall victim to the enemy. Malala for her struggles was to be made the face of the American war effort - against her own will if necessary - while innumerable little girls such as Nabila will continue to be terrorized and murdered as part of this war without end. There will be no celebrity appearances or awards ceremonies for Nabila. At her testimony almost no one even bothered to attend.
But if they had attended, they would’ve heard a nine year old girl asking the questions which millions of other innocent people who have had their lives thrown into chaos over the past decade have been asking: "When I hear that they are going after people who have done wrong to America, then what have I done wrong to them? What did my grandmother do wrong to them? I didn’t do anything wrong."
Murtaza Hussain is a Toronto-based writer and analyst focused on issues related to Middle Eastern politics.
Follow him on Twitter: @MazMHussain
Looking for a Cause? Help a Yakama Elder Save Her Language
Virginia Beavert, a Yakama elder from Toppenish, Washington, is working on a project that is “very important and meaningful” to her because “it will help to preserve both my culture and my language,” she says on the Kickstarter page for it.
This is my native language and it would be super cool if you guys could toss her a few bucks on Kickstarter. Or you know signal boost this. Please I am begging.
What they say: There is a skeleton inside you.
The truth: You are inside your skeleton. You are a brain.
What the fuck
im a really affectionate person once you get past my 5 layers of shyness, awkwardness, fear, vague dislike, and loneliness
I still get sad about everything that happened. Every now and then it just hits me. Sometimes, it takes days for me to get over it.
Unknown (via xyclops)
Oddly enough, it’s the storms that whisper His name, the storms that make His presence most known. So prepare yourself when the seas of life begin to grow restless, because you might be getting ready to encounter God; what a heartbreakingly beautiful thing it is to behold.
T.B. LaBerge // Go Now
This was exactly the encouragement that my soul needed.
(via godmoves)
Sometimes you’re 23 and standing in the kitchen of your house making breakfast and brewing coffee and listening to music that for some reason is really getting to your heart. You’re just standing there thinking about going to work and picking up your dry cleaning. And also more exciting things like books you’re reading and trips you plan on taking and relationships that are springing into existence. Or fading from your memory, which is far less exciting. And suddenly you just don’t feel at home in your skin or in your house and you just want home but “Mom’s” probably wouldn’t feel like home anymore either. There used to be the comfort of a number in your phone and ears that listened everyday and arms that were never for anyone else, but just to calm you down when you started feeling trapped in a five-minute period where nostalgia is too much and thoughts of this person you are feel foreign. When you realize that you’ll never be this young again but this is the first time you’ve ever been this old. When you can’t remember how you got from sixteen to here and all the same feel like sixteen is just as much of a stranger to you now. The song is over. The coffee’s done. You’re going to breathe in and out. You’re going to be fine in about five minutes.
Jesus. (via organized-clutter)
(submitted by ungoogleble)
I haven’t used this laptop since my undergrad days, and now that I’m using it for my Master’s I’ve rediscovered my bookmarks of research on language immersion & bilingual ed in the U.S.
Enjoy the readings if you’re interested!
Open-to-the-public articles:
Ovando, C. J. (2003). Bilingual…
"People who say that money can’t buy happiness never paid an adoption fee."
Kittens of The Cat House on the Kings - Via Cute Overload
And kid, you’ve got to love yourself. You’ve got wake up at four in the morning, brew black coffee, and stare at the birds drowning in the darkness of the dawn. You’ve got to sit next to the man at the train station who’s reading your favorite book and start a conversation. You’ve got to come home after a bad day and burn your skin from a shower. Then you’ve got to wash all your sheets until they smell of lemon detergent you bought for four dollars at the local grocery store. You’ve got to stop taking everything so goddam personally. You are not the moon kissing the black sky. You’ve got to compliment someones crooked brows at an art fair and tell them that their eyes remind you of green swimming pools in mid July. You’ve got to stop letting yourself get upset about things that won’t matter in two years. Sleep in on Saturday mornings and wake yourself up early on Sunday. You’ve got to stop worrying about what you’re going to tell her when she finds out. You’ve got to stop over thinking why he stopped caring about you over six months ago. You’ve got to stop asking everyone for their opinions. Fuck it. Love yourself, kiddo. You’ve got to love yourself.
unknown (via irynka)
"never use this word because it’s common, instead use all of these things that i’ll call synonyms even though they carry different connotations and will change the meaning of your dialogue if you use them" — very bad and unfortunately very common writing advice
"Do you want this sandwich?" she elaborated, acquiring the sandwich from her rucksack with a set of fingers.
His visage was set aflame with a smile. “Sure,” he postulated.
cyberworm-txt:
I SPAT RED BULL ALL OVER MY COMPUTER