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thedonkeykongquestofbreadanana:

did-you-kno:

The total number of African slaves sent to all parts of the world between 1500 and 1865 was estimated to be at least 12 million. When you consider that only one in ten made the trip alive, the number of Africans who were enslaved or killed in the 350 years of the slave trade had to be no less than 120 million people.

More facts at http://did-you-kno.tumblr.com/

“capitalism never killed anyone”

That the Obama administration is now repeatedly declaring that the ‘war on terror’ will last at least another decade (or two) is vastly more significant than all three of this week’s big media controversies (Benghazi, IRS, and AP/DOJ) combined. The military historian Andrew Bacevich has spent years warning that US policy planners have adopted an explicit doctrine of ‘endless war’. Obama officials, despite repeatedly boasting that they have delivered permanently crippling blows to al-Qaida, are now, as clearly as the English language permits, openly declaring this to be so. It is hard to resist the conclusion that this war has no purpose other than its own eternal perpetuation. This war is not a means to any end but rather is the end in itself. Not only is it the end itself, but it is also its own fuel: it is precisely this endless war - justified in the name of stopping the threat of terrorism - that is the single greatest cause of that threat.
Washington gets explicit: its ‘war on terror’ is permanent | Glenn Greenwald (via theamericanbear)
hamdoullahcava: Muhammad Ali vs Ernie Terrell, 1967 ”Why don’t you call me my name, man. I never told you my name is Cassius Clay. My name is Muhammad Ali and you will announce it right there in the center of that ring after the fight, if you don’t do it now. You are acting just like an old Uncle Tom. I’m gonna punish you.” - Ali to Terrell, who refused to call him by his new name before the fight. Ali won a 15th-round decision.
Zoom
hamdoullahcava: Muhammad Ali vs Ernie Terrell, 1967 ”Why don’t you call me my name, man. I never told you my name is Cassius Clay. My name is Muhammad Ali and you will announce it right there in the center of that ring after the fight, if you don’t do it now. You are acting just like an old Uncle Tom. I’m gonna punish you.” - Ali to Terrell, who refused to call him by his new name before the fight. Ali won a 15th-round decision.
Zoom
hamdoullahcava: Muhammad Ali vs Ernie Terrell, 1967 ”Why don’t you call me my name, man. I never told you my name is Cassius Clay. My name is Muhammad Ali and you will announce it right there in the center of that ring after the fight, if you don’t do it now. You are acting just like an old Uncle Tom. I’m gonna punish you.” - Ali to Terrell, who refused to call him by his new name before the fight. Ali won a 15th-round decision.
Zoom
hamdoullahcava: Muhammad Ali vs Ernie Terrell, 1967 ”Why don’t you call me my name, man. I never told you my name is Cassius Clay. My name is Muhammad Ali and you will announce it right there in the center of that ring after the fight, if you don’t do it now. You are acting just like an old Uncle Tom. I’m gonna punish you.” - Ali to Terrell, who refused to call him by his new name before the fight. Ali won a 15th-round decision.
Zoom
hamdoullahcava: Muhammad Ali vs Ernie Terrell, 1967 ”Why don’t you call me my name, man. I never told you my name is Cassius Clay. My name is Muhammad Ali and you will announce it right there in the center of that ring after the fight, if you don’t do it now. You are acting just like an old Uncle Tom. I’m gonna punish you.” - Ali to Terrell, who refused to call him by his new name before the fight. Ali won a 15th-round decision.
Zoom
hamdoullahcava: Muhammad Ali vs Ernie Terrell, 1967 ”Why don’t you call me my name, man. I never told you my name is Cassius Clay. My name is Muhammad Ali and you will announce it right there in the center of that ring after the fight, if you don’t do it now. You are acting just like an old Uncle Tom. I’m gonna punish you.” - Ali to Terrell, who refused to call him by his new name before the fight. Ali won a 15th-round decision.
Zoom

hamdoullahcava:

Muhammad Ali vs Ernie Terrell, 1967

”Why don’t you call me my name, man. I never told you my name is Cassius Clay. My name is Muhammad Ali and you will announce it right there in the center of that ring after the fight, if you don’t do it now. You are acting just like an old Uncle Tom. I’m gonna punish you.”

- Ali to Terrell, who refused to call him by his new name before the fight. Ali won a 15th-round decision.

Jewish people speak and have spoken an array of languages, live and have lived across the world, and possess different histories that extend beyond the narrow confines of political Zionism and the nation-state of Israel.

It is contemporary political Zionism that has “othered” Mizrahi/Arab-Jews, as New York University professor Ella Shohat explains, by urging Arab Jews “to see their only real identity as Jewish,” such that their “Arabness, the product of millennial cohabitation, is merely a diasporic stain to be ‘cleansed’ through assimilation” (“The invention of the Mizhahim,” Journal of Palestine Studies, Volume 29, No. 1, Autumn 1999).

Further, Israel’s policy towards Ethiopian Jews in recent years demonstrates how the limits of Jewishness are often defined through Zionism. There is a clear tension between Birthright’s claim to promote diasporic life, and the fact that it the program is so deeply rooted in Zionism, an ideology that homogenizes the experiences and identities of Jews.

Our alleged Birthright can only exist through the suppression and erasure of many Jewish identities, histories and experiences.

Electronic Intifada - As Jews we say birthright must end

being of mizrahi descent i am feeling this article so much because i’ve dealt with a bunch of ashkenazi jews recently who have said p racist things to me not realizing i am middle-eastern/central asian. and they’ve attempted to co-opt my experiences or use what jasbir puar refers to as “single axis identity analysis” (sorry to get all academic but i don’t know a better way to put it) to try to tell me that i’m not ~actually~ iranian

including someone who went so far as to say that they were “disappointed in me” for not “embracing” my jewish side even though they know nothing about me/have not spoken to me in over a year and really don’t know anything abut the interest and research i’ve been doing via family oral histories

(via ayatollahofsass)

After learning my flight was detained 4 hours,
I heard the announcement:
If anyone in the vicinity of gate 4-A understands any Arabic,
Please come to the gate immediately.

Well—one pauses these days. Gate 4-A was my own gate. I went there.
An older woman in full traditional Palestinian dress,
Just like my grandma wore, was crumpled to the floor, wailing loudly.
Help, said the flight service person. Talk to her. What is her
Problem? we told her the flight was going to be four hours late and she
Did this.

I put my arm around her and spoke to her haltingly.
Shu dow-a, shu- biduck habibti, stani stani schway, min fadlick,
Sho bit se-wee?

The minute she heard any words she knew—however poorly used—
She stopped crying.

She thought our flight had been canceled entirely.
She needed to be in El Paso for some major medical treatment the
Following day. I said no, no, we’re fine, you’ll get there, just late,

Who is picking you up? Let’s call him and tell him.
We called her son and I spoke with him in English.
I told him I would stay with his mother till we got on the plane and
Would ride next to her—Southwest.

She talked to him. Then we called her other sons just for the fun of it.

Then we called my dad and he and she spoke for a while in Arabic and
Found out of course they had ten shared friends.

Then I thought just for the heck of it why not call some Palestinian
Poets I know and let them chat with her. This all took up about 2 hours.

She was laughing a lot by then. Telling about her life. Answering
Questions.

She had pulled a sack of homemade mamool cookies—little powdered
Sugar crumbly mounds stuffed with dates and nuts—out of her bag—
And was offering them to all the women at the gate.

To my amazement, not a single woman declined one. It was like a
Sacrament. The traveler from Argentina, the traveler from California,
The lovely woman from Laredo—we were all covered with the same
Powdered sugar. And smiling. There are no better cookies.

And then the airline broke out the free beverages from huge coolers—
Non-alcoholic—and the two little girls for our flight, one African
American, one Mexican American—ran around serving us all apple juice
And lemonade and they were covered with powdered sugar too.

And I noticed my new best friend—by now we were holding hands—
Had a potted plant poking out of her bag, some medicinal thing,

With green furry leaves. Such an old country traveling tradition. Always
Carry a plant. Always stay rooted to somewhere.

And I looked around that gate of late and weary ones and thought,
This is the world I want to live in. The shared world.

Not a single person in this gate—once the crying of confusion stopped
—has seemed apprehensive about any other person.

They took the cookies. I wanted to hug all those other women too.
This can still happen anywhere.

Not everything is lost.

Naomi Shihab Nye (b. 1952), “Wandering Around an Albuquerque Airport Terminal.” I think this poem may be making the rounds, this week, but that’s as it should be.  (via oliviacirce)
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