1. haiweewicci:


daughterofargus:

socialismartnature:

Breaking via ABC News: UN Human Rights Council votes to open inquiry into alleged war crimes in Gaza; U.S. is the ONLY “no” vote.
That’s because the U.S. is a direct accomplice to every war crime that Israel commits.

I’m also intrigued by which countries voted “abstain.” Weird how the EU doesn’t seem to want to get involved …
#israel #Palestine #war crimes #genocide #ethnic cleansing

LMAO OF COURSE THE FUCKING US VOTED NO

    haiweewicci:

    daughterofargus:

    socialismartnature:

    Breaking via ABC News: UN Human Rights Council votes to open inquiry into alleged war crimes in Gaza; U.S. is the ONLY “no” vote.

    That’s because the U.S. is a direct accomplice to every war crime that Israel commits.

    I’m also intrigued by which countries voted “abstain.” Weird how the EU doesn’t seem to want to get involved …

    #israel #Palestine #war crimes #genocide #ethnic cleansing

    LMAO OF COURSE THE FUCKING US VOTED NO

    (via majorphaser)

    54 minutes ago  /  7,786 notes  /  Source: twitter.com

  2. Love has no boundries
Love is the answer

    Love has no boundries

    Love is the answer

    3 days ago  /  4 notes

  3. letter1418:

Last week, I was sitting with my team of editorial moderators when we realized we would soon pass 10,000 letters. I thought it would be interesting to find a statistic about a battle from WWI to link to this milestone. 10,000 seemed like such a massive number, and then I found this:
Battle of the Somme is famous chiefly on account of the loss of 58,000 British troops (one third of them killed) on the first day of the battle, 1 July 1916. 
I told this to my team. I wish I could put into words the silence that followed. But I can’t. I can only ask you: Sit with me a moment and be still. Sit with me for a moment and try to feel this.
It took a team of eight workers seventeen days to read 10,000 letters.
Multiply every letter we received by 5.8.
Every “Dear Daddy” letter in kids’ handwriting, sloppy and sloping off the page, or structured and school-tight.
Every “My Darling” letter from a beloved, with longing like perfume washed over the pages.
Every “My Son” and “My Brother” letter, filled with news of the family and with fear.
Every time someone wrote the words, "I don’t understand why you had to go."
Every time someone wrote, “I pray you will return.” 
Every time someone wrote (or wished), “Don’t die.” 
Multiply it.
Sit still with me a moment.
Six times that number of sons—gone.
Six times that number of friends—gone.
Six times that number, and every one connected. Every one with a mother, a father, perhaps sisters or wives or children of their own. Gone, in the space of one battle.
Our words stretch to the unknown, the lost—not the dead only, but the missing—our words stretch but they are weak. We are 10,000 letters that reach across time to heal or challenge wounds, but we do not even cover one day in battle.
My coworkers and I stopped and stared at each other over our laptops, our fingers still hovering above keys, the queue still filling up with more to be read.
We only get glimpses into the grief. We can only comprehend for fleeting moments, and it is gone again. It is too heavy. It is too hard to read another Dear Daddy, knowing that what this child imagines another child lived through.
I am a writer, and I believe that words have power. Though they be many, though they be few, these words are doing something. I don’t know what yet, but I feel them. I feel them changing me.
Will you let them change you?
- AlyssaEditorial Moderator | Letter to an Unknown Soldier Team

    letter1418:

    Last week, I was sitting with my team of editorial moderators when we realized we would soon pass 10,000 letters. I thought it would be interesting to find a statistic about a battle from WWI to link to this milestone. 10,000 seemed like such a massive number, and then I found this:

    Battle of the Somme is famous chiefly on account of the loss of 58,000 British troops (one third of them killed) on the first day of the battle, 1 July 1916.

    I told this to my team. I wish I could put into words the silence that followed. But I can’t. I can only ask you: Sit with me a moment and be still. Sit with me for a moment and try to feel this.

    It took a team of eight workers seventeen days to read 10,000 letters.

    Multiply every letter we received by 5.8.

    Every “Dear Daddy” letter in kids’ handwriting, sloppy and sloping off the page, or structured and school-tight.

    Every “My Darling” letter from a beloved, with longing like perfume washed over the pages.

    Every “My Son” and “My Brother” letter, filled with news of the family and with fear.

    Every time someone wrote the words, "I don’t understand why you had to go."

    Every time someone wrote, “I pray you will return.”

    Every time someone wrote (or wished), “Don’t die.”

    Multiply it.

    Sit still with me a moment.

    Six times that number of sons—gone.

    Six times that number of friends—gone.

    Six times that number, and every one connected. Every one with a mother, a father, perhaps sisters or wives or children of their own. Gone, in the space of one battle.

    Our words stretch to the unknown, the lost—not the dead only, but the missing—our words stretch but they are weak. We are 10,000 letters that reach across time to heal or challenge wounds, but we do not even cover one day in battle.

    My coworkers and I stopped and stared at each other over our laptops, our fingers still hovering above keys, the queue still filling up with more to be read.

    We only get glimpses into the grief. We can only comprehend for fleeting moments, and it is gone again. It is too heavy. It is too hard to read another Dear Daddy, knowing that what this child imagines another child lived through.

    I am a writer, and I believe that words have power. Though they be many, though they be few, these words are doing something. I don’t know what yet, but I feel them. I feel them changing me.

    Will you let them change you?

    - Alyssa
    Editorial Moderator | Letter to an Unknown Soldier Team

    (via joachimmurat)

    3 days ago  /  79 notes  /  Source: letter1418

  4. strangergirls:


oy-eld-thankee:

I love how the other one is like “whoop, heres my ride”

Get in, loser, we’re going mopping

    strangergirls:

    oy-eld-thankee:

    I love how the other one is like “whoop, heres my ride”

    Get in, loser, we’re going mopping

    (via thefuuuucomics)

    3 weeks ago  /  260,045 notes  /  Source: kittiezandtittiez

  5. Kamppi Chapel interior on Flickr.

    Kamppi Chapel interior on Flickr.

    3 weeks ago  /  3 notes

  6. Aurinkolahti beach on Flickr.

    Aurinkolahti beach on Flickr.

    3 weeks ago  /  1 note

  7. jinxamataz:

commissarcuddles:

hexane-nightmares:

Holy fuck. I never really understood how they caught birds before, I assumed they had to sneak up on them. 

How was this even caught on camera?

did that cat fucking put the thing in its mouth in midair so it could land on its feet

    jinxamataz:

    commissarcuddles:

    hexane-nightmares:

    Holy fuck. I never really understood how they caught birds before, I assumed they had to sneak up on them. 

    How was this even caught on camera?

    did that cat fucking put the thing in its mouth in midair so it could land on its feet

    (via secretlifeofamovieproducer)

    3 weeks ago  /  307,266 notes  /  Source: kittiezandtittiez

  8. Little bookshop in Stockholm on Flickr.

    Little bookshop in Stockholm on Flickr.

    3 weeks ago  /  4 notes

  9. ilovemymariachilife:

People need instructions to eat tacos; sad but true.

    ilovemymariachilife:

    People need instructions to eat tacos; sad but true.

    (via rafastarisativa2)

    3 weeks ago  /  681 notes  /  Source: ilovemymariachilife

  10. emotionslikeateaspoon:

    I feel like you should all watch this. Just persevere for a minute or so.

    (via thefuuuucomics)

    3 weeks ago  /  95,116 notes  /  Source: youtube.com

  11. photo

    photo

    photo

    photo

    photo

    photo

    photo

    photo

    photo

    3 weeks ago  /  667 notes  /  Source: translate.googleusercontent.com

  12. ndlsswntr:


“But I don’t want comfort. I want God, I want poetry, I want real danger, I want freedom, I want goodness. I want sin.”―John the Savage from “Brave New World” by Aldous Huxley

    ndlsswntr:

    “But I don’t want comfort. I want God, I want poetry, I want real danger, I want freedom, I want goodness. I want sin.”

    ―John the Savage from “Brave New World” by Aldous Huxley

    (via upperrubberboot)

    3 weeks ago  /  134 notes  /  Source: ndlsswntr

  13. (via b1sixty6er)

    3 weeks ago  /  3 notes  /  Source: kikusalmon

  14. Peace cannot be kept by force. It can only be achieved by understanding.
    Albert Einstein, 14 December 1930 (via humanoidhistory)

    (via humanoidhistory)

    3 weeks ago  /  250 notes  /  Source: humanoidhistory

  15. 3 weeks ago  /  447,327 notes  /  Source: fencehopping