θύμος καὶ ψυχή

Daniel Radcliffe’s wife is from Flint and so sometimes he’s in town and you just kinda… see fuckin Harry Potter out n about. Saw him leaving Texas Roadhouse today and he nodded at my round rim glasses lol

Didn’t ask for a picture but my waitress friend did and he took a pic with the whole crew

Dan Radcliffe is Flint’s local cryptid

a lecture

So I woke up to someone having erased the “gay” out of #20gayteen

Try your homophobic bs somewhere else bitches it’s not welcome here

THESE BITCHES GON LEARN IM NOT THE ONE TO FUCK WITH

These hoes think I’m playin

Update: my board was not erased today when I got back from class and I shall take this small victory and put it to good use.

The end(?)

Two months later and I have learned that apparently it was NOT the end.

But I’m officially done playing now and I’m pretty sure I’ve finally figured out the culprit because they made a very crucial mistake

So now we wait :)

Rabbi Reuven Israel Kott was a Torah prodigy whose cleverness and chutzpah saved thousands of Jews from annihilation by the Nazis. Born in a Polish shtetl in 1897, Reuven was one of fifteen children. His family were Hasidic followers of the Ger Rebbe. Reuven’s exceptional intellect was apparent at a young age. He was a gifted scholar of Talmud and Jewish scripture, so precocious that he was given rabbinic ordination when only 17 years old. The Rebbe took a special liking to Reuven, and every Friday night Reuven sat next to the great man at his festive Sabbath gathering. Small in size - he stood only 5’1” - Reuven was known for his big brain, and big heart. Reuven was selected by his community to represent them as the Jewish voice on the local provincial council. When the Polish president died in the 1920’s, young Reuven stood at the graveside with other clergy and delivered a eulogy on behalf of the Jews of Poland. Although life seemed fairly good for Polish Jews at the time, the Ger Rebbe sensed that big trouble was coming. He urged his followers to get out of Poland and move to Eretz Yisrael (the Land of Israel), at that time British Mandate Palestine. As the Rebbe’s right-hand man, Rabbi Reuven Kott threw himself into the mission of helping Jews leave Poland and return to their ancestral homeland. The British had a quota system restricting the number of Jewish families they let in. Reuven took advantage of a bureaucratic loophole defining “family” as two parents and an undetermined number of offspring. Reuven collected money and bribed Polish authorities to get blank birth certificates. He would then “create” new families, matching people up, changing names and identities as needed. Every “family" had at least a dozen children. Reuven told those he helped that they must stick with their fake identity. Most people complied, but a few didn’t and were caught. Under threat of being sent back to Poland, somebody gave Reuven’s name to the authorities. Reuven and his brother were on a train in Warsaw when three plain-clothes officers approached. After verifying his identity, they arrested Reuven for bribery and forgery and threw him in jail. As a pious Jew, Reuven couldn’t eat the non-kosher jail food, so every day his daughter brought him a kosher meal - a two hour journey each way. After several long months, his brother finally got word that there was going to be a hearing in the case. He went to visit Reuven in jail, told him the news and asked which lawyer he wanted to hire. Reuven scribbled something on a scrap of paper, folded it up and slipped it through the bars of his cell. Outside the jail, Reuven’s brother unfolded the note. He was shocked to read the contents: “Hire me the most anti-Semitic lawyer in Warsaw!“ Reuven’s family was baffled. With so many top-notch Jewish lawyers, why would he want an anti-Semite? Had his incarceration led to a mental breakdown? Reuven’s brother assured them that he was of sound mind, and he went to Warsaw and found an attorney notorious for his fierce hatred of Jews. The day of the hearing arrived, and the courthouse was packed with hundreds of Hasids from Reuven’s community. Reuven was allowed only three minutes with his lawyer, and then the hearing began. To everybody’s shock, Reuven’s lawyer stood up, made a brilliant argument, and got the case dismissed. Back home in the shtetl, everybody wanted to know what Reuven had said to his lawyer in those three minutes. Reuven said his Talmud study had taught him that in a business deal, if you get three “Yes” answers, the deal will close. He asked his lawyer three questions: - You hate us Jews, don’t you? - Do you want to see me rot and die in jail? - Would you like all of us Jews gone from Poland? The lawyer answered yes to all three questions. Reuven immediately shot back, “What good would it do if one measly Jew rots in jail? If you set me free, I can get all the Jews out of Poland!” Reuven got what he wanted by blinding the lawyer with his own hate. He continued his work “creating” large families and helping them move to Palestine. The anti-Semitic attorney even helped him procure more blank birth certificates. People often asked Reuven when he would go to Eretz Yisrael. He said, “I’m like the captain of a sinking ship. It is my responsibility to get all the passengers out before I get in the lifeboat.” Over the course of 20 years, Reuven helped tens of thousands of Jews escape Poland. Today, almost half a million descendants of those Polish Jews owe their lives to Rabbi Reuven Israel Kott. Unfortunately, Reuven himself never made it to Israel. He was murdered at Auschwitz in 1942. For proving that one small man in three short minutes can accomplish miracles beyond measure, we honor Rabbi Reuven Israel Kott as this week’s Thursday Hero at Accidental Talmudist. This story was told to us by Reuven’s granddaughter, Ziporah Bank. She heard it from her mom - the daughter who brought kosher meals to Rabbi Kott in prison.

Accidental Talmudist

When you’re in the 1400’s Florence and your buddy starts coughing

I will never not find this funny

Who is she? Where is her vogue spread?

i’m so sorry if someone made you think it’s hard to love you

i once told my therapist, “i feel like i’m too difficult to love.” i expected her to refute me, but instead she said, “be difficult for abusers to love,” and i’ll never forget that.

quick protip: if someone is crying or freaking out over something minor, eg wifi not connecting, can’t find their hat, people talking too loud, do NOT tell them how small or petty the problem is to make it better. they know. they would probably love to calm down. you are doing the furthest possible thing from helping. people don’t have to earn expressions of feelings.

I’m just gonna put it out there that if someone’s freaking about something small, they’re really freaking out about something big that they’re trying to deal with, or something long term that’s been building up, and that little thing is the straw that broke the camel’s back.

I don’t know, try and give people the benefit of the doubt. Don’t be the next straw on their broken back.

Needed this today.

People don’t actually go from 0 to 60. If you think they did, you have failed to notice how long they’ve been at 59.

People don’t actually go from 0 to 60. If you think they did, you have failed to notice how long they’ve been at 59.

why the fuck is no one naming their children after greek goddesses? Name your fucking child Persephone?????? Bitch???????!?

If that makes you happy, my name is Demeter

In my experience, people named after Greek goddesses are some of the most ethereal, chaotic forces I have ever encountered. Our Art Department’s nude model, for example, is a woman named Hera. She’s stunningly beautiful, rides a motorcycle as apparently her only vehicle, grows all her own food, and keeps bees, turtles, and a dog named Argus, who she walks around town with a peacock feather attached to his leash. I am thoroughly convinced she is not of this realm.

I’m pretty sure you just met Hera.

More young people are leaning into the rental or sharing economy — owning less of everything and renting and sharing a whole lot more. Housing, cars, music, workspaces. In some places, such as Los Angeles, this rental life has gone to an extreme.

Steven T. Johnson, 27, works in social media advertising and lives in Hollywood. He spends most of his days using things he does not own.

He takes a ride-share service to get to the gym; he does not own a car. At the gym, he rents a locker. He uses the gym’s laundry service because he does not own a washing machine.

Johnson doesn’t even have an apartment, actually. He rents a bed in a large room with other people who rent beds, for nights, weeks or months at a time, through a service called PodShare. All the residents share a kitchen and bathrooms. Johnson also rents a desk at WeWork, a coworking space.

And he says the only clothes he owns are two versions of the same outfit.

Johnson says he owns so little that he has even been able to get rid of his backpack. “I gave that up two months ago,” he says.

He’s part of a newish group of young people. He is educated and owns his own business. He could be considered well off, but he is also, in a way, homeless. By choice.

There are two big reasons for this shift: the price of housing and student loan debt. A little more than a third of millennials currently own homes, a rate lower than Generation X and baby boomers when they were the same age.

The Affluent Homeless: A Sleeping Pod, A Hired Desk And A Handful Of Clothes

Photo: Courtesy of Steven T. Johnson

so here’s homeless and not only has he convinced himself that this is by choice but that’s he’s affluent

late stage capitalism is a disaster

No proofreading we die like mne

(source)

Pick me up like this

“That woman’s tongue can change my credit score.”

A few years back, I was a waitress at a breakfast diner. On the menus there are pictures of omelettes. The omelettes pictured are yellow.

It’s 11 at night, I get the last table before closing, and it’s a girl my age. She asks for tea and an egg white omelette. So I bring over her egg white omelette, and she starts screaming. Why? Because it’s not yellow like in the picture on the menu, it’s white, so something must be wrong. I explained that the yolk is what makes omelettes yellow, and she didn’t want egg yolks. She’s still mad, and yells again. And then realizes she could eat while she’s yelling, so she does, and I get to watch her chew with her mouth open while she rants about eggs. I’m exhausted and dying inside. She finally stops. I ask if she wants a refill of tea, and she says yes. She’s quiet for the rest of her meal, for which I am very grateful.

After she paid and left, I collected her receipt. On it, she wrote in all caps “I DON’T UNDERSTAND HOW EGGS WORK BUT IT WAS YUMMY.” She left a $20 bill on the table as a tip. She also left some pills in a bag that my manager sent to the police, which were identified as some sort of amphetamine. 

Don’t do drugs kids, you’ll forget how eggs work.

The Temple of Quechula was built in 1564 and abandoned in the 1700s because of a plague.

Source

plague church emerges from the water.  totally cool.  normal.  not an ill omen or harbinger of doom at all.  happens ever y day

Chapter 7:

Read on AO3 or FFN

Many thanks to @nancylovesreylo, @shestoolazytologin, and @lostloveisstilllove for reblogging! :)