Children of War | Afghanistan
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Bill piérdete una Murray
A guide to Wes Anderson’s movies: Do you want to see Bill Murray?
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Who needs feminism?
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“First World Problems read by Third World People”
if this doesn’t strike a chord with you… well, i don’t know what will.
:’(
#firstworldproblems #wakeup
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» mischa's brain farts: Street Harassment Doesn't Just Happen To Pretty Girls
I was sitting with a group of women talking about Street Harassment when this girl I didn’t know very well turns to me and says “I bet you’re glad you don’t have to deal with this.”
“Actually I do have to deal with it. Why would you say that?” I replied…
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Hazara in detention wins prestigious Human Rights Art Award in Darwin, Australia
Friday 9 December 2011, by Vikki Riley
For the first time, a Hazara has won the annual Human Rights Art Award in Darwin in Australia’s Northern Territory, presented by Mrs Tessa Pauling, the wife of the Chief Administrator, representative of Queen Elizabeth here in Darwin. Chosen from a large pool of entries that included aboriginal artists and contemporary painters and sculptors as well as other artists in detention, the exhibit My Dream Boat by Javad Javadi was the show stopper of the two works he submitted with the judges unanimously declaring him the outright winner.
Javad Javadi is a plasterer from Bamiyan Province in Afghanistan although he hasn’t been home for more than thirty years, having fled as a child to Iran like many Hazaras from the region who feared the murderous Pashtun warlords who roamed the region and eventually took power under the Taliban government, destroying the famous Bamiyan Buddhas in 2001. In 2009 he and his family found themselves in Quetta, Pakistan, after the Iranian government evicted Hazaras there in exile and it was then that he fled to journey to Australia via Indonesia . There he boarded a fishing boat, was intercepted in Australian waters and then began what is now almost two years in detention , currently in Darwin. During that time he has become a prolific and accomplished artist and model maker of astonishing skill. His attention to detail and ornamentation is legendary and his work can be enjoyed by all age groups as they exude a timeless beauty and sense of adventure and wonder. Using felt, icy pole sticks, dishcloths, discarded plastic containers, magazines and glue this boat is a cross between an Indonesian fishing boat and an Australian ferry,updated with GPS satellite,radar unit, beds, rest rooms and eating areas. Territory and ACT flags adorn the top alongside aboriginal flag colours. A quote is placed on the helm:
“Nests can’t be made in the cages. I wish I were free. I would do a lot more than this creativity”
His other exhibit, My dream house is a combination of a traditional home in Afghanistan and an Australian home complete with swimming pool, car,garage, towels on the clothes line, neat grass and people inside. Made from balsa wood, dishcloths, felt, icy pole and matchsticks and plastic, all recycled here to astonishing effect. Trees made from earbuds. Rooftop picnic tables with Afghan carpets . Like the Dream Boat many hours of precise positioning of small objects and a complex level of juxtaposition certainly won over the hearts of many small children at the event who could relate to the narrative at work in the model. Home ownership may be still part of the Australian dream for some, and that certainly includes Hazara asylum seekers who risk their lives in boats to come here in the hope of one day bringing their wives and children to settle in a safe country where the opportunity of literacy and a life without violence is golden. One can only imagine a real life scale model of a house for Mr Javadi and his family in the future as an Australian resident with incredible skills to offer our society. -
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Hmmmm, food for thought… via @stuartg: Sydney according to…
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"As you breathe in, cherish yourself. As you breathe out, cherish all beings."Dalai Lama (via collegetao) (via sweetveganista)
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America, Allen Ginsberg… via @kissability
My most favourite writer…thanks for posting this kathleenjoy.
kathleenjoy:America I’ve given you all and now I’m nothing.
America two dollars and twenty-seven cents January 17, 1956.
I can’t stand my own mind.
America when will we end the human war?
Go fuck yourself with your atom bomb
I don’t feel good don’t bother me.
I won’t write my poem till I’m in my right mind.
America when will you be angelic?
When will you take off your clothes?
When will you look at yourself through the grave?
When will you be worthy of your million Trotskyites?
America why are your libraries full of tears?
America when will you send your eggs to India?
I’m sick of your insane demands.
When can I go into the supermarket and buy what I need with my good looks?
America after all it is you and I who are perfect not the next world.
Your machinery is too much for me.
You made me want to be a saint.
There must be some other way to settle this argument.
Burroughs is in Tangiers I don’t think he’ll come back it’s sinister.
Are you being sinister or is this some form of practical joke?
I’m trying to come to the point.
I refuse to give up my obsession.
America stop pushing I know what I’m doing.
America the plum blossoms are falling.
I haven’t read the newspapers for months, everyday somebody goes on trial for
murder.
America I feel sentimental about the Wobblies.
America I used to be a communist when I was a kid and I’m not sorry.
I smoke marijuana every chance I get.
I sit in my house for days on end and stare at the roses in the closet.
When I go to Chinatown I get drunk and never get laid.
My mind is made up there’s going to be trouble.
You should have seen me reading Marx.
My psychoanalyst thinks I’m perfectly right.
I won’t say the Lord’s Prayer.
I have mystical visions and cosmic vibrations.
America I still haven’t told you what you did to Uncle Max after he came over
from Russia.I’m addressing you.
Are you going to let our emotional life be run by Time Magazine?
I’m obsessed by Time Magazine.
I read it every week.
Its cover stares at me every time I slink past the corner candystore.
I read it in the basement of the Berkeley Public Library.
It’s always telling me about responsibility. Businessmen are serious. Movie
producers are serious. Everybody’s serious but me.
It occurs to me that I am America.
I am talking to myself again.Asia is rising against me.
I haven’t got a chinaman’s chance.
I’d better consider my national resources.
My national resources consist of two joints of marijuana millions of genitals
an unpublishable private literature that goes 1400 miles and hour and
twentyfivethousand mental institutions.
I say nothing about my prisons nor the millions of underpriviliged who live in
my flowerpots under the light of five hundred suns.
I have abolished the whorehouses of France, Tangiers is the next to go.
My ambition is to be President despite the fact that I’m a Catholic.America how can I write a holy litany in your silly mood?
I will continue like Henry Ford my strophes are as individual as his
automobiles more so they’re all different sexes
America I will sell you strophes $2500 apiece $500 down on your old strophe
America free Tom Mooney
America save the Spanish Loyalists
America Sacco & Vanzetti must not die
America I am the Scottsboro boys.
America when I was seven momma took me to Communist Cell meetings they
sold us garbanzos a handful per ticket a ticket costs a nickel and the
speeches were free everybody was angelic and sentimental about the
workers it was all so sincere you have no idea what a good thing the party
was in 1835 Scott Nearing was a grand old man a real mensch Mother
Bloor made me cry I once saw Israel Amter plain. Everybody must have
been a spy.
America you don’re really want to go to war.
America it’s them bad Russians.
Them Russians them Russians and them Chinamen. And them Russians.
The Russia wants to eat us alive. The Russia’s power mad. She wants to take
our cars from out our garages.
Her wants to grab Chicago. Her needs a Red Reader’s Digest. her wants our
auto plants in Siberia. Him big bureaucracy running our fillingstations.
That no good. Ugh. Him makes Indians learn read. Him need big black niggers.
Hah. Her make us all work sixteen hours a day. Help.
America this is quite serious.
America this is the impression I get from looking in the television set.
America is this correct?
I’d better get right down to the job.
It’s true I don’t want to join the Army or turn lathes in precision parts
factories, I’m nearsighted and psychopathic anyway.
America I’m putting my queer shoulder to the wheel. -
"We tend to think animals are lower than us, but all the scientists in the world couldn’t design and operate a bumblebee’s wing. We can’t jump or run very fast, and we can’t carry vast weights like an ant can. We can’t see in the dark and we can’t fly except crammed in a noisy tube like sardines, which doesn’t count. Humans compared to animals are almost totally deaf, and we can’t smell a fart in an elevator by their standards.
We are finite and separate, and neurotic, while the consciousness of an animal is at peace and eternal. We strive and go crazy to become more important. Animals rest and sleep and enjoy the company of each other. We think we have evolved upwards from animals but we have lost almost all of their qualities and abilities.
The idea that animals don’t have consciousness or that they don’t have a soul is rather crass. It shows a lack of consciousness. They talk, they have families, they feel things, they act individually or together to solve problems, they often care of their young as a tribal unit. They play, they travel, and medicate themselves when they get sick. They cry when others in the herd die, they know about us humans. Of course they have a soul, a very pristine one. We humans are only now attempting with the recent rise in consciousness to achieve the soul that animals have naturally."Stuart Wilde (via journeytoenlightenment)Wow. Truth. What an eloquent piece. Beautiful words for a beautiful philosophy…
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"You wanna be commander in chief? You can start by standing up for the men and women who wear the United States uniform, even when it’s not politically convenient."
President Obama- Addressing all the GOP candidates, who stayed quiet as the debate crowd booed a gay soldier serving in Iraq (via cornachio)
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Vegucated
I am very excited to see this documentary, and now, I’m officially going to the premiere in New York! I am already going to be out there in the early part of October, so it was obviously meant to be. ;) Back to the film, though (from the site):
Vegucated is a feature-length documentary that follows three meat- and cheese-loving New Yorkers who agree to adopt a vegan diet for six weeks. There’s Brian, the bacon-loving bachelor who eats out all the time, Ellen, the single mom who prefers comedy to cooking, and Tesla, the college student who avoids vegetables and bans beans. They have no idea that so much more than steak is at stake and that the fate of the world may fall on their plates. Lured with true tales of weight lost and health regained, they begin to uncover hidden sides of animal agriculture and soon start to wonder whether solutions offered in films like Food, Inc. go far enough. Before long, they find themselves risking everything to expose an industry they supported just weeks before.
But can their conviction carry them when times get tough? What about on family vacations fraught with skeptical step-dads, carnivorous cousins, and breakfast buffets?
Part sociological experiment, part science class, and part adventure story, Vegucated showcases the rapid and at times comedic evolution of three people who share one journey and ultimately discover their own paths in creating a kinder, cleaner, greener world, one bite at a time.
I can’t wait to see this, and bravo to the people who put it together! You can buy tickets for different screenings around the US & Canada here. Also, I’d love to meet up with some of you readers and get some awesome vegan food in NY, so if you’re up for it shoot me a message! :D
Hope this comes to Oz!
