Spanish men

Spanish boy names are popular in the US and are used in the Latinx community. There are a variety of Spanish names from the ever-present Jose to the trendy Cruz and advanced Salvatore. For decades, four names have been widely used, they being Antonio, Jose, Francisco and Manuel. Men of Spanish descent have beautiful big eyes, luscious lips and thick hair. Since they are right off the coast, they have this olive skin that keeps a natural bronzed glow all year long. Let's just say anything mixed with this breed makes for beautiful babies. Free Spanish dating site helping men and women to find online love! Our 100% free singles service offers secure and safe dating experience in Spain! The Crossword Solver found 20 answers to the Spanish men crossword clue. The Crossword Solver finds answers to American-style crosswords, British-style crosswords, general knowledge crosswords and cryptic crossword puzzles. Enter the answer length or the answer pattern to get better results. Click the answer to find similar crossword clues. Spanish men have the reputation of being tall, dark and handsome, with thick accents that can make you swoon. As with anything, it’s hard to generalize, especially when it comes to dating in Spain, because each region has a somewhat distinct culture. Four of the Spanish men convicted in 2019 of raping a woman in Pamplona have been sentenced to further prison terms for a separate case of sexual abuse that occurred months earlier. The most popular Spanish names for boys in the US include Mateo, Angel, Jose, and Santiago.Many of the most familiar Spanish boys' names end with the letter O, which in itself has been a major trend and has helped boost the popularity of baby names of Spanish origin. Along with Mateo and Angel, other Spanish boy names in the US Top 1000 include Leonardo, Diego, Luis, Antonio, Miguel, Gael ... Spanish men get in touch with their feminist side. By James Badcock Madrid. Published. 17 May 2019. image caption Pablo Llama (R) with Miguel Lázaro, who says 'every man is in need of an internal ... A: Cafepress has the best prices for Spanish Men's T-Shirts, the best selection from designers of tees, and the easiest way to create a custom men’s shirt in the color and size you are after. We carry x-small, small, medium, large, x-large, 2x large, 3x large, big and tall clothing for men, and other sizes. I present to you my Top 22 the most handsome Spanish men. It includes well-known actors as Spanish and American cinema, as well as pop singers, models, racing driver and players. I only pay attention to appearance, photogenic, charismatic and sexy, special achievements in professional and talent in the preparation the rating did not matter. 22.

Men's Rights :: Advocating for the social and legal equality of men and boys since 2008

2008.03.19 17:17 Men's Rights :: Advocating for the social and legal equality of men and boys since 2008

At the most basic level, men's rights are the legal rights that are granted to men. However, any issue that pertains to men's relationship to society is also a topic suitable for this subreddit. Men's rights are influenced by the way men are perceived by others.
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2013.01.09 16:05 friendofthecolours Exotic Lady Boners

A subreddit dedicated to sexy men of colour - be they black, Arab, Spanish, Italian, South American etc
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2011.06.13 06:27 Commandos Series

"Commandos is a stealth-oriented real-time tactics game series, available for Microsoft Windows and Mac OS X. The game is set in the Second World War and follows the escapades of a fictional British Commandos section. It leans heavily (though not always accurately) on historical events during WWII to carry the plot. The series was developed by the Spanish company Pyro Studios and published by Eidos Interactive." -Wikipedia
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2020.09.23 23:03 nikvelimirovic [BLOPS] Powermad - The Madness Begins (1988) Full EP

Toyota, Aichi, Japan

The cutthroat game of international capitalism has taken spanned thousands of miles across the world and has seen intrigue and subterfuge at all levels of society. The latest entry into the great game of business dealings that is a 21st century version of a James Bond novel comes in Aichi Prefecture in the Chūbu region of Japan. Here, late last year, a swathe of Turks descended on the Toyota corporation as if it were Manzikert. Acting on MİT orders that would become clear later, people ranging from academics to “migrant workers” attempted (and succeeded) in extracting industrial data on processes, design principles, and proprietary Toyota technology from everyone ranging from malleable Toyota employees that were swayed with discrete cash payments to literal trash in dumpsters.
Reports by Toyota HQ security guards of people digging through their trash and Turkish men being too nosy with their questions were sent first to local police and then state intelligence services, which, through an operation that was too slow for Toyota’s liking (Japan’s intelligence services delay in investigating actually allowed the Turkish agents to extract information), Kōanchōsa-chō was able to identify the MİT connection and make a positive identification and arrest of 3 MİT agents. The rest of the agents escaped back to Turkey via Singapore.

Diyarbakır, Turkey

A curious series of events that ruined numerous lives unfolded in Turkey’s Southeastern Anatolia Region in the major city of Diyarbakır. A new militant organization calling themselves the AKK (Kurdish Republican Army) carried out a series of terror attacks targeting a Turkish kebab shop, a migrant workers’ camp, and a left-wing Kurdish academic’s house. All in all 13 people were killed. The AKK styled themselves as an alternative to the PKK, advocating for a conservative Kurdish nationalism, bound to the Turkish state, and promotion of Kurdish language and education in the Southeastern Anatolian Region. Intended to serve as a counter to the policies of the PKK and Öcalan, the AKK has spread propaganda arguing that independence would FAIL and that Kurdistan would be invaded by her neighbors!
Apparently the AKK missed the 2005 memo of the shift in PKK ideology from a Marxist-Leninist Independence movement to a more anarchist inspired form of horizontal organization called “democratic confederalism” that, in the words of Abdullah Öcalan himself, would not be a state system but rather an international network of autonomous communities in Turkey, Syria, Iraq, Iran, and Armenia. In response to AKK propaganda about the folly of independence many PKK supports scoffed and said “yeah, duh lol”
However, the convoluted story of the AKK comes later, when their leader Semedar Zêrevan was arrested in Istanbul in connection with the AKK. With their leader in solitary confinement in Turkey’s notorious Diyarbakır Prison, about a dozen other AKK militants were arrested in sting operations across the country. The whole plot began to fall apart though, when photos surfaced of Zêrevan with Turkish parliament member Naci Bostancı and MİT head Hakan Fidan. Mr. Fidan, clearly, is not good at secrecy despite being head of the MİT as in 2014 he was the center of a scandal that saw plans for a false flag attack in Syria organized by himself, the foreign minister, and deputy chief of staff surfaced. Other connections were drawn between the AKK and MİT on twitter, linking financial statements from Zêrevan’s family firm (a construction company) and shell accounts linked to Turkish intelligence. It is unknown whether or not it will come to pass, but many assume that Erdogan will temporarily ban Twitter like he did in 2014 after the aforementioned scheme was revealed.
Overall, the impact of this connection has had mixed results on the AKK. Though they still exist, they’ve disbanded into a number of smaller militant groups angry at the connection to the MİT. A central militant group called the AKK-Central Command remains loyal to Zêrevan, though they are only 40% of the size of the initial organization and have lost a hell of a lot of credibility with most Kurds.

North Hamgyong Province, Democratic People’s Republic of Korea

A surprise development in the North Hamgyong provincial capital of Chongjin saw roughly a dozen agents of South Korean intelligence managed to infiltrate local WPK organs with progression paths towards the Executive Policy Bureau. Roughly 10 agents were discovered in Chongjin’s local WPK bodies and 3 of them were arrested, though the rest fled. The size of the RoK cell in Chongjin is unknown, and it is also unknown how far up the infiltration goes.

Upata, Bolívar State, Venezuela

In the sleepy suburb of Guayana City called Upata, anti-Maduro posters began to appear and local drifters began espousing the failure of the Chavista system in bars and markets. Word spread to the surrounding villages and towns and more and more people gathered to discrete anti-Chavista reading groups. It quickly became clear, whether from the accents with which the drifters and propagandists spoke Spanish, their lack of connections in the local community, or reports of similar propagandizing in every town and village along the road to the Guyanese border, that this was not an indigenous anti-Chavista movement, but a Guyanese operation to sow discontent. It’s been moderately successful in Guayana City’s suburbs though the government is now aware of this sedition.

Manama, Bahrain

Carrying the banner of E. M. S. Namboodiripad and historic Indian Communist movements, foreign workers in Bahrain organized a massive march against what they described as “conditions equivalent to slavery,” with over 1,000 Indian and Bangladeshi workers taking part. They were forcibly dispersed by Bahraini police and armed forced and three were killed. BIA1 has alleged that this foreign workers’ unrest was not a natural occurrence but fueled by foreign intelligence. They named India, Saudi Arabia, and the UAE as potential perpetrators, but said their “investigation is ongoing.”
submitted by nikvelimirovic to GlobalPowers [link] [comments]


2020.09.23 21:27 cheshirekoala CMV: It is not worth continuing to live in America if Trump wins the 2020 Election

Regardless of whether the Trump administration is able to hold on to power through election meddling or the partisan packing of the SCOTUS or the metagaming of the electoral college or a legitimate popular victory, I would no longer wish to consider myself an American or truly recognize what that means. I should preface by saying I understand I am coming from a place of privilege in this and genuinely want my view to be changed. I was born American and, despite my disagreements with the directions we've taken at times, have always felt proud to be an American. I also have a strong connection to my Spanish heritage and visit my family there often. I have means, and emigration would not be difficult for me. I know where I would live and I know where I would work.
This country has always been a contradiction in my view. The axiom that all men are created equal was written down concurrently with laws that treated people of color and women as property. The response to suffragette, civil rights and labor movements have always been brutal. We have also made great strides to fulfill that promise. The politics of neo-liberalism have threatened that momentum in my view, but not completely halted it. The politics of Trumpism are terrifying to me because of that history. I am not a fighter. I talk, I work, I love, I play, I sleep. Fighting does not interest me.
The mudslinging of US politics has lost all normalcy to me. The boldness of the strength worship, race baiting, corruption, deceit, and religious posturing all seems depressingly familiar. If the country is not willing to resoundingly reject these politics, I do not see any way the violence will not escalate. I know I am acting like a coward, and I also know that four more years of Trump does not guarantee a civil war. Even the risk currently doesn't seem worth it...
EDIT: It does seem important to note that moving to Spain was already a goal of mine to undertake eventually, however the current political climate has made me consider doing so in a more immediate timeframe.
submitted by cheshirekoala to changemyview [link] [comments]


2020.09.23 20:55 Stxbbath Questioning since...ever?

So... I’ve most recently become very uncomfortable with my body and who I am ( as in what gender role I fit in ) and I’m wondering if it’s always been a thing that I simply didn’t acknowledge. I began to dress more “masculine” about 2-3 years ago, becoming more “daring” by cutting my hair short or wearing men’s clothes ( I live in a not so liberal place so, small steps ) and have become more and more comfortable presenting as a man online, as well as the occasional “misgendering” outside. I was satisfied like that, thinking this might be a phase of mine since I went through it in my teenage years during my emo phase. I never had a “boy” cut but hair short enough to definitely trick people into thinking I was one. I passed as a boy online and liked the way I was perceived and treated by others.
The thing is... this doesn’t feel enough anymore. Conforming to passing online doesn’t feel enough and sometimes it’s outright frustrating I don’t meet people’s expectations because some even believe I’m a cis guy. I’ve just never disclosed it. That’s when I started to question myself. I’m very much the type that takes these things serious. I’ve met people claiming to be this and that, show no discomfort or be completely comfortable not passing / make no effort but still carry that title / label. I’m very aware that it could be a phase or a coping mechanisms for people, reason why I’ve been very wary of my own experience. However, as I began to question myself, I started to...connect dots? Think about myself as a child and how I always thought I should’ve been a boy.
Now, my experience wasn’t like what I’d see in videos about trans people where they always knew. No, my reasoning to that as a child was that I liked “boy stuff”, was always taller, broader than the other girls. Looking back at it, really superficial stuff that can simply be me not being comfortable with my body cause I was never a petite girl. Now, though, it makes me wonder if it’s part of something else and I just brushed aside because the term trans wasn’t known to me till... maybe when I was 19? Between my teenage years and now, there was a period of time I was comfortable being feminine and dating a guy. I had a bad experience / breakup and for a while simply took these changes as me trying to cope about it.
The thing is... now I’m standing here thinking who the fuck am I. Even my sexuality is something I don’t like disclosing and for a long time, I didn’t know why. I know I like men and women, but the idea of being with a woman as one just... it makes me extremely uncomfortable. I don’t label myself as bisexual because of that same reason, but feel as if I wouldn’t have that issue as a man if it makes sense.
I’m 25 years old and I feel I’ve reached to a point I can’t just keep conforming living like this. I envy the people who figure out way sooner, because the thought that I’ve been wasting “my best years” makes me have an existential crisis. If someone were to give me the option of becoming a man, I’d take it right away. However, it’s not as easy as that. Even if I do end up doing something about it, it will take years down the line and that both... scares me and excites me.
I recently told my mom about it after I couldn’t take it anymore. I’m not a very emotional person, but this thing hit me all at once and I felt as if my chest was about to burst if I didn’t tell someone. She didn’t seem surprised, which I haven’t questioned her about, and told me I could go to therapy to sort my head. She was really supported and assured me that no matter what, I’m her child ( although later on, she dismissed the entire thing and told me to “stop thinking about nonsense” and focus on the new job I will start ). I don’t think her intentions were bad, but simply a lack of understanding about mental health which is a major issue here.
Telling her made me feel better and even though I told her I was confused and wanted therapy to figure it out, after telling her I was almost confident that yeah, I would transition. It made me even excited to think about until I received that text message ( the one I mentioned above ) and began to question myself again.
As I said, I will look into it and I’ve read about on-late experience to try to relate, but I’ve always seen more “evident” signs in other people’s stories that make me wonder if what I thought as a child was simply me not conforming to gender roles. I think it’s also worth mentioning that as a girl, I was pretty “typically feminine” too ( skirts, pink stuff, make up, push up bras ) and I’m wondering if that was a way of me overcompensating? Because then I’d be home and wear “boy clothes” to sleep in and later down the line, started to wear boxers.
This got really long, but I’ve wanted to reach out to people and ask for what they think and possibly, share similar experiences? Could it be that it’s always been there but it just now triggered? Or could it be most likely a phase? Thank you for reading all this btw.
Addition: I also think it’s worth mentioning I’ve always struggled with fitting with people and changed my mind about what career to pursue about three times ( even now I don’t know what I want to do with my life ) and I’ve wondered if it could boil down to me not feeling like myself? Because I’m not an antisocial person contrary to what my family thinks. When I travel to Canada ( I’ve travelled about three times there to meet friends ) I’m perfectly comfortable because I can present however I want without raising any eyebrows and get addressed my male pronouns unlike back home ( my first language is Spanish and almost everything is gendered ).
submitted by Stxbbath to FTMMen [link] [comments]


2020.09.23 18:34 DanteHaxel20 Are there any books talking about feminism written with an anthropological perspective?

First things first, I'm a male who recently has been accepted in college, and I'm going to start the first semester in the Anthropology career.
Basically as the title says, I'm looking for books about feminism with an anthropological view, an since I'm from Latin America it would be a plus if I can find these books in spanish, although not necessarily, as I said, that would be just a plus.
I decided to study anthropology because I'm that career I can study the human being and the human behavior, as well as anything related with that, so, at a certain point in the career, I would like to learn more about feminism, as well as I'm interested in men's issues, because I know that is also a thing, anyway, I understand the latter is not, and was never been the subject of what feminism is about, so I will refrain from asking about that topic in this subreddit.
I want to clarify that this question has nothing to do with the fact that I'll start college or that any professor of mine asked about this. This is a genuine question I make for me to learn more about feminism, since is a topic I started to get interest since highschool, so if any of you could help me with this question I'll be more than grateful with you.
This is my first time posting a question in this subreddit, so if there's an error with my post please let me know, if the mods want to delete this post I'm ok with that as long as someone tells me what is wrong with it.
Other than that, thanks for your attention, I hope to read your answers.
submitted by DanteHaxel20 to AskFeminists [link] [comments]


2020.09.23 16:21 mtp6921 [RF] Cancun

I was a kid from divorced parents. Both of my parents got remarried and started over with their new kids.
I was the kid that both of my parents regretted and they both wished, I would just go away. Both of my parents wanted to start a new life and both of my step parents saw me nothing more than trouble.
I wound up staying at my grandmother’s house, who unfortunately passed away my first year of college in 1994.
I was basically alone in life as a freshman at East Stroudsburg University.
My desperation for a sense of acceptance and belonging really did nothing more than push people away from me.
I would drink whatever and smoke whatever as long as people would notice my existence.
I stayed in the freshman dorms. It was close to spring break and the guys in the dorm were planning a trip to Cancun through a travel agency.
The guys in my dorm had a group of 10 people, which they needed to get a discounted group rate to go to Cancun.
Of course nobody would even bother to ask me if I was interested in going.
Then, a week before they were supposed to leave, one of the guy’s couldn’t pay the required deposit.
It was a bit demeaning, but after 20 other guys declined to go, then they asked me. I had enough money from my grandmother’s passing, so I said why not.
We had a Taxi take us to Newark airport and our trip was for three days.
Even though, I was the tag along, I still had a really good time.
The last night we were there I got completely intoxicated to the point where most of the night was a blur.
I do remember that we had to catch the shuttle bus the next morning to the airport, so I made sure the alarm clock was set for 8:00 am. I shared the room with four other guys from my college.
The next morning came and I remembered being alone in the hotel room. I looked at the clock and it said 6:00 o’clock. I thought everyone had returned to the room from the night before.
I was now awake and I wanted to know where the other guys in my room went. I opened my hotel door and I could see a row of housekeeping carts.
I walked towards the other hotel room, where the other five guys were staying and I saw housekeepers had finished cleaning their room.
I think to myself that the guys probably got up early and went to the hotel lobby for the free continental breakfast.
I walk over to the lobby and I realize that it is completely empty of any tourist. I don’t see the nine other guys from my college or any other college kids.
I am now a little bit nervous because I don’t know what the hell is going on.
I go back to my room and realize that my wallet’s missing but my suitcase is still there.
I am now hyperventilating because I’m 18 years old and I have no idea what is going on.
I walk back to the lobby and I talk to the person at the front desk. She informs me that it’s 6:15 pm and everyone has checked out.
Both of my hands grab my hair on top of my head and I am totally shocked. I explain my situation to the woman at the lobby and she basically tells me that without money, I had to leave the property.
I asked her to use their phone and she pointed to the pay phone.
I tried calling first my mother and then my father and neither of them would accept my call. I also never told them that I was going to Mexico, so perhaps they didn’t know it was me calling.
So now I’m pleading with the woman in the lobby to help me. She eventually gets tired of me and gets security to escort me off the property with my bag.
It is now dark out and I’m alone with no money. I was so hung over and overwhelmed that I just fell asleep on the sidewalk in front of the hotel.
The next morning, I just started walking in a direction that I felt was north. I knew it was over a thousand miles to the Texas border and I really had no plan.
So, I walked and walked and walked. I had a water bottle and a bag of chips and no other food. My face and arms are now completely sun burnt.
I feel like a complete outsider. I get occasional looks of mistrust from the local people. I now knew what it was like to be a homeless immigrant. All I need is help and I only know a few words of Spanish.
My watch says 5:00 pm and I hear a large gathering coming from a bar. I get closer and I see that there boxing going on. I see a sign with the words that included $1000 Pesos, which I assume is the prize money for each fight.
I really have no choice, so I eventually get the organizers to understand, that I want to box. It was a small step above bare knuckles, where I was given basically two ace bandages to wrap around my fist.
I first eat the remaining chips I have left and I then wrap my hands up. I didn’t do it right, so I kept on wrapping them until it kind of looked like the other fighters wrapped hands.
I wait on the side of the ring until it’s my turn. I watch in horror as fighter after fighter pummel each other. I have been beaten up before by bullies, but I never have won a fight.
All of these fighters are short and completely ripped and I’m tall and skinny.
My thoughts were to use my reach and not let my opponent get close to me.
Each fight is one five minute round.
I get cued from the announcer that it’s my turn. I hear the word “gringo” and I couldn’t make out anything else. I am trembling in absolute fear. Everyone is yelling and screaming and nobody wants me to win. I see the crowds faces and everyone is grimacing at me.
I hear the sound of the bell and my opponent, who is about my weight but eight inches shorter than me, lunges towards me. I move backwards around the ring and continually throw punches. I don’t know if the punches are hurting him, but I continually land them.
A few times he corners me against the ropes and lands a bunch of punches to my face. My adrenaline is racing that I barely feel the punches. I kept on managing to get myself off the ropes and I kept on punching him as I moved backwards. I don’t know how much time is left but my arms get tired and I can barely keep them up. I also know that if I loose, then I starve to death. I finally hear the bell ring and I try not to show my exhaustion.
The referee consults with the side judges and then he comes to the center of the ring with my opponent. The announcer say a bunch of words that I don’t understand, then he holds my hand up in victory. Everyone in the crowd boos and the announcer gives me an envelope with the money in it.
My jaw starts to feel sore as I open and close my mouth. My arms and legs hurt from fatigue and from being sunburnt.
I fill up my water bottle from a public water fountain. I come up with a plan to drink only water and buy the cheapest food.
I decide to pass out under a tree not far from the bar. The only real motivation I have is revenge on the nine guys that left me to die and stole my money.
I’m so exhausted that I pass out. I wake up and continue to walk. I ditch my suitcase because it’s to cumbersome and heavy. I come across a church and I meet a man. I couldn’t understand a word he said but he gave me a map. I think he realized that I was trying to go to the United States. I now feel better that I have a map and I have some sense of direction.
So, I continue to walk and walk about 30 miles a day, I estimated. I fill my water bottle up at every opportunity. I start traveling at night to avoid the sun.
I am terrified of the darkness most of the time of whatever awaits me as I push forward.
I have now completed a week and estimate that I’ll probably need three more weeks to reach the border.
I’m now approaching the second week and I’m walking at about 3:00 am in the morning and a pick up truck filled with armed men force me in the back of the pickup.
They drive me to a heavily guarded compound.
They force me off the truck and into the middle of a courtyard. I see a man holding back a husky Rottweiler.
A large group of men form a circle around me. The men give money to one guy and I quickly figure out that there betting going on in a dog fight, but it’s not two dogs it’s me vs the dog.
Once the bets are settled then the man releases the dog. The dog looks like it’s possessed. It looks like it wants to eat me. The dog growls at it runs towards me. As the dog lunges at me I instinctively try to grab its neck with both hands and pin it to the ground. I pound the dog unmercifully against the ground until it stops moving.
The men stop yelling and open the door to let me exit the compound. At this point, I feel like a complete animal.
I haven’t showered in almost two weeks and I’m wearing the same clothes as well. I pass through virtual deserts in the middle of the night and I eventually come across small towns.
I hear coyotes and wolves continually throughout the night.
I don’t know if I’m starting to get delirious, but I start to see people walking with me. The only thing is the people are dead. They are dressed in tuxedos from the 1960’s.
I’m not sure if these are the images a person see’s before they die themselves. I can make them out pretty well in the moonlight.
I’ve been petrified the whole walk and seeing these figures kind of adds a new dimension of fear. They kind of walk aimlessly in my same direction. I constantly look over my shoulders and look around me to make sure their not too close.
I lie to myself and think they were sent by my Grandmother. Eventually, I convince myself there fake and they disappear.
The sun starts to come up and I see a sign for Texas and the U.S. border showing 180 miles and I figure, I can do it in six days. I find a shady spot and I pass out. I’ve been coming across avocados sporadically and I eat as much as I could as I’m running out of Pesos.
I have been buying mostly cheapest bread from wherever I can. I feel deficient of every vitamin and mineral.
I am envisioning what horrible things I’ll do to those nine guys who left me to die.
I wake up and force my legs forward. All I need to do is make it to the US border.
I’m on a desolate road and I see two cars coming from behind me. I have a sense that there trouble and I count eight men total in both of the cars.
The two cars drive in circles around me and cause a tornado of dust. They eventually stop their cars and all of the men get out.
Then, they all move towards me and just beat the crap out of me. I crawl up in a fetal position and do my best to protect my head. Eventually they stop and drive off. I am bruised all over my body and i'm certain i broke a couple of ribs.
I can’t really move so I decide to pass out on the side of the road.
I wake up as the sun comes up and I’m greeted by a lifesaver. It is an old beat up bus that asks me if I wanted a ride to the border. I jump at the opportunity, but soon realize that I can barely walk and when I do it’s extremely painful.
I head on the bus and the ride takes about four hours to make it to the border. I felt bad for the people on the bus because I must of stunk so bad.
I fill out the necessary paperwork at the border for someone who has no ID. I’m assisted by a social worker to access money from my bank account.
I get money wired to me from my bank and once I get the money, then I rent a room. I buy a bunch of candy bars and Soda. I buy whatever clothes from the tourist shop and I take an hour long shower. I then pass out for 12 hours.
I then head to the bus stop and I take four different busses to get back to a East Stroudsburg University.
I get to the University and head to my dorm room. I decide to play it off that my father helped me and I’ve been staying at his house all this time. The semester is almost over and I don’t bother with going to class and now I focus on pure revenge towards those nine guys who left me to die.
I’m still in pain and I wait a few days before I plot my revenge.
Eventually, I see each one of the nine guys and they all acted like nothing happened and shrugged it off as oh well you just missed your plane.
What I figured out was those bastards gave my ID to some Mexican kid and he taped himself up with a bunch of narcotics and flew back using my plane ticket. Prior to September 11 nobody really took airport security serious and all you had to do was flash your ID and have a plane ticket.
So, I decided to use the remaining money my Grandmother left me and I rented a house under a fake name. I played it off to the nine guys, that it was my fault for over sleeping in Mexico and that I really just wanted to be friends with them.
I then convinced them to come to this house party I was throwing. I got a bunch of ecstasy and alcohol and I also purchased a bunch of male transvestites. I let the ecstasy and alcohol work it’s magic, then I videotaped all nine of them in sexual acts with the transvestites.
I made over a hundred copies and I sent the copies to their families, to everyone in our dorm, ....
Needless to say they all dropped out from the embarrassment and at least I got a little solace.
submitted by mtp6921 to stories [link] [comments]


2020.09.23 16:17 mtp6921 [RF] Cancun

I was a kid from divorced parents. Both of my parents got remarried and started over with their new kids.
I was the kid that both of my parents regretted and they both wished, I would just go away. Both of my parents wanted to start a new life and both of my step parents saw me nothing more than trouble.
I wound up staying at my grandmother’s house, who unfortunately passed away my first year of college in 1994.
I was basically alone in life as a freshman at East Stroudsburg University.
My desperation for a sense of acceptance and belonging really did nothing more than push people away from me.
I would drink whatever and smoke whatever as long as people would notice my existence.
I stayed in the freshman dorms. It was close to spring break and the guys in the dorm were planning a trip to Cancun through a travel agency.
The guys in my dorm had a group of 10 people, which they needed to get a discounted group rate to go to Cancun.
Of course nobody would even bother to ask me if I was interested in going.
Then, a week before they were supposed to leave, one of the guy’s couldn’t pay the required deposit.
It was a bit demeaning, but after 20 other guys declined to go, then they asked me. I had enough money from my grandmother’s passing, so I said why not.
We had a Taxi take us to Newark airport and our trip was for three days.
Even though, I was the tag along, I still had a really good time.
The last night we were there I got completely intoxicated to the point where most of the night was a blur.
I do remember that we had to catch the shuttle bus the next morning to the airport, so I made sure the alarm clock was set for 8:00 am. I shared the room with four other guys from my college.
The next morning came and I remembered being alone in the hotel room. I looked at the clock and it said 6:00 o’clock. I thought everyone had returned to the room from the night before.
I was now awake and I wanted to know where the other guys in my room went. I opened my hotel door and I could see a row of housekeeping carts.
I walked towards the other hotel room, where the other five guys were staying and I saw housekeepers had finished cleaning their room.
I think to myself that the guys probably got up early and went to the hotel lobby for the free continental breakfast.
I walk over to the lobby and I realize that it is completely empty of any tourist. I don’t see the nine other guys from my college or any other college kids.
I am now a little bit nervous because I don’t know what the hell is going on.
I go back to my room and realize that my wallet’s missing but my suitcase is still there.
I am now hyperventilating because I’m 18 years old and I have no idea what is going on.
I walk back to the lobby and I talk to the person at the front desk. She informs me that it’s 6:15 pm and everyone has checked out.
Both of my hands grab my hair on top of my head and I am totally shocked. I explain my situation to the woman at the lobby and she basically tells me that without money, I had to leave the property.
I asked her to use their phone and she pointed to the pay phone.
I tried calling first my mother and then my father and neither of them would accept my call. I also never told them that I was going to Mexico, so perhaps they didn’t know it was me calling.
So now I’m pleading with the woman in the lobby to help me. She eventually gets tired of me and gets security to escort me off the property with my bag.
It is now dark out and I’m alone with no money. I was so hung over and overwhelmed that I just fell asleep on the sidewalk in front of the hotel.
The next morning, I just started walking in a direction that I felt was north. I knew it was over a thousand miles to the Texas border and I really had no plan.
So, I walked and walked and walked. I had a water bottle and a bag of chips and no other food. My face and arms are now completely sun burnt.
I feel like a complete outsider. I get occasional looks of mistrust from the local people. I now knew what it was like to be a homeless immigrant. All I need is help and I only know a few words of Spanish.
My watch says 5:00 pm and I hear a large gathering coming from a bar. I get closer and I see that there boxing going on. I see a sign with the words that included $1000 Pesos, which I assume is the prize money for each fight.
I really have no choice, so I eventually get the organizers to understand, that I want to box. It was a small step above bare knuckles, where I was given basically two ace bandages to wrap around my fist.
I first eat the remaining chips I have left and I then wrap my hands up. I didn’t do it right, so I kept on wrapping them until it kind of looked like the other fighters wrapped hands.
I wait on the side of the ring until it’s my turn. I watch in horror as fighter after fighter pummel each other. I have been beaten up before by bullies, but I never have won a fight.
All of these fighters are short and completely ripped and I’m tall and skinny.
My thoughts were to use my reach and not let my opponent get close to me.
Each fight is one five minute round.
I get cued from the announcer that it’s my turn. I hear the word “gringo” and I couldn’t make out anything else. I am trembling in absolute fear. Everyone is yelling and screaming and nobody wants me to win. I see the crowds faces and everyone is grimacing at me.
I hear the sound of the bell and my opponent, who is about my weight but eight inches shorter than me, lunges towards me. I move backwards around the ring and continually throw punches. I don’t know if the punches are hurting him, but I continually land them.
A few times he corners me against the ropes and lands a bunch of punches to my face. My adrenaline is racing that I barely feel the punches. I kept on managing to get myself off the ropes and I kept on punching him as I moved backwards. I don’t know how much time is left but my arms get tired and I can barely keep them up. I also know that if I loose, then I starve to death. I finally hear the bell ring and I try not to show my exhaustion.
The referee consults with the side judges and then he comes to the center of the ring with my opponent. The announcer say a bunch of words that I don’t understand, then he holds my hand up in victory. Everyone in the crowd boos and the announcer gives me an envelope with the money in it.
My jaw starts to feel sore as I open and close my mouth. My arms and legs hurt from fatigue and from being sunburnt.
I fill up my water bottle from a public water fountain. I come up with a plan to drink only water and buy the cheapest food.
I decide to pass out under a tree not far from the bar. The only real motivation I have is revenge on the nine guys that left me to die and stole my money.
I’m so exhausted that I pass out. I wake up and continue to walk. I ditch my suitcase because it’s to cumbersome and heavy. I come across a church and I meet a man. I couldn’t understand a word he said but he gave me a map. I think he realized that I was trying to go to the United States. I now feel better that I have a map and I have some sense of direction.
So, I continue to walk and walk about 30 miles a day, I estimated. I fill my water bottle up at every opportunity. I start traveling at night to avoid the sun.
I am terrified of the darkness most of the time of whatever awaits me as I push forward.
I have now completed a week and estimate that I’ll probably need three more weeks to reach the border.
I’m now approaching the second week and I’m walking at about 3:00 am in the morning and a pick up truck filled with armed men force me in the back of the pickup.
They drive me to a heavily guarded compound.
They force me off the truck and into the middle of a courtyard. I see a man holding back a husky Rottweiler.
A large group of men form a circle around me. The men give money to one guy and I quickly figure out that there betting going on in a dog fight, but it’s not two dogs it’s me vs the dog.
Once the bets are settled then the man releases the dog. The dog looks like it’s possessed. It looks like it wants to eat me. The dog growls at it runs towards me. As the dog lunges at me I instinctively try to grab its neck with both hands and pin it to the ground. I pound the dog unmercifully against the ground until it stops moving.
The men stop yelling and open the door to let me exit the compound. At this point, I feel like a complete animal.
I haven’t showered in almost two weeks and I’m wearing the same clothes as well. I pass through virtual deserts in the middle of the night and I eventually come across small towns.
I hear coyotes and wolves continually throughout the night.
I don’t know if I’m starting to get delirious, but I start to see people walking with me. The only thing is the people are dead. They are dressed in tuxedos from the 1960’s.
I’m not sure if these are the images a person see’s before they die themselves. I can make them out pretty well in the moonlight.
I’ve been petrified the whole walk and seeing these figures kind of adds a new dimension of fear. They kind of walk aimlessly in my same direction. I constantly look over my shoulders and look around me to make sure their not too close.
I lie to myself and think they were sent by my Grandmother. Eventually, I convince myself there fake and they disappear.
The sun starts to come up and I see a sign for Texas and the U.S. border showing 180 miles and I figure, I can do it in six days. I find a shady spot and I pass out. I’ve been coming across avocados sporadically and I eat as much as I could as I’m running out of Pesos.
I have been buying mostly cheapest bread from wherever I can. I feel deficient of every vitamin and mineral.
I am envisioning what horrible things I’ll do to those nine guys who left me to die.
I wake up and force my legs forward. All I need to do is make it to the US border.
I’m on a desolate road and I see two cars coming from behind me. I have a sense that there trouble and I count eight men total in both of the cars.
The two cars drive in circles around me and cause a tornado of dust. They eventually stop their cars and all of the men get out.
Then, they all move towards me and just beat the crap out of me. I crawl up in a fetal position and do my best to protect my head. Eventually they stop and drive off. I am bruised all over my body and i'm certain i broke a couple of ribs.
I can’t really move so I decide to pass out on the side of the road.
I wake up as the sun comes up and I’m greeted by a lifesaver. It is an old beat up bus that asks me if I wanted a ride to the border. I jump at the opportunity, but soon realize that I can barely walk and when I do it’s extremely painful.
I head on the bus and the ride takes about four hours to make it to the border. I felt bad for the people on the bus because I must of stunk so bad.
I fill out the necessary paperwork at the border for someone who has no ID. I’m assisted by a social worker to access money from my bank account.
I get money wired to me from my bank and once I get the money, then I rent a room. I buy a bunch of candy bars and Soda. I buy whatever clothes from the tourist shop and I take an hour long shower. I then pass out for 12 hours.
I then head to the bus stop and I take four different busses to get back to a East Stroudsburg University.
I get to the University and head to my dorm room. I decide to play it off that my father helped me and I’ve been staying at his house all this time. The semester is almost over and I don’t bother with going to class and now I focus on pure revenge towards those nine guys who left me to die.
I’m still in pain and I wait a few days before I plot my revenge.
Eventually, I see each one of the nine guys and they all acted like nothing happened and shrugged it off as oh well you just missed your plane.
What I figured out was those bastards gave my ID to some Mexican kid and he taped himself up with a bunch of narcotics and flew back using my plane ticket. Prior to September 11 nobody really took airport security serious and all you had to do was flash your ID and have a plane ticket.
So, I decided to use the remaining money my Grandmother left me and I rented a house under a fake name. I played it off to the nine guys, that it was my fault for over sleeping in Mexico and that I really just wanted to be friends with them.
I then convinced them to come to this house party I was throwing. I got a bunch of ecstasy and alcohol and I also purchased a bunch of male transvestites. I let the ecstasy and alcohol work it’s magic, then I videotaped all nine of them in sexual acts with the transvestites.
I made over a hundred copies and I sent the copies to their families, to everyone in our dorm, ....
Needless to say they all dropped out from the embarrassment and at least I got a little solace.
submitted by mtp6921 to DarkTales [link] [comments]


2020.09.23 15:29 thisisahardchoice 22M Looking for Friends & Maybe More 💫

Hi everyone!!
I’m in the process of starting my life over, and one of my goals is to be more social and meet new people! Quarantine isn’t helping me though 😭
A little about me:
I’m 22 in NYC, I like all music but I love having discussions about music more. Generally, I listen to a whole lot of R&B and Spanish music, but I’m super open to new genres!
I’m a college student, senior year (finally!) English major! I’m also a photographer, so if you’re into art I’m also your guy! I’m genuinely open to new experiences and new things, so even if we don’t have similar taste in anything, I’m so down to learn about the things that you love to do!
Lastly, while I’m here to make some genuine long-term friends, I’m also single and bisexual (learning heavily towards men). So if your intentions are romantic, let me know from the jump!
Really looking forward to meeting you :D
submitted by thisisahardchoice to MakeNewFriendsHere [link] [comments]


2020.09.23 14:58 rs2excelsior Question on the evolution of the Tercio

So, I’m pretty well familiar with the initial form of the Spanish tercio, with a roughly square formation of likes and sword-and-buckler men with smaller squares of musketeers in the corners. And from what I understand, over time the tercios replaces the sword and buckler armed men with more pikes, similar to how other armies were getting rid of “short” weapons like halberds and greatswords in favor of homogenous pike formations. However, the tercio seems very manpower intensive to get a limited amount of firepower in any given direction, in an era where the arquebus/musket was increasingly becoming an infantry battalion’s main way of inflicting casualties.
My question is this: did the tercio undergo similar changes to most other armies of the time, namely increasing the proportion of shot vs pike and generally becoming wider and shallower? If so, how would a tercio during the Thirty Years War (say, at Rocroi) have differed in composition, deployment, etc from a Dutch or German style battalion?
submitted by rs2excelsior to WarCollege [link] [comments]


2020.09.23 07:35 moshiyadafne What are your personal thoughts on beauty pageants?

¡Hola! It's my first time in this sub and I thought I should ask this question that has been in my head for months in this particular sub.
I am from the other side of the Pacific that used to be a Spanish colony but can't speak Spanish, and just like yours, pageants are super big and deeply ingrained in our culture. I'm a gay man who is a fan of pageants, and I have been watching a lot of pageant vlogs to destress myself from how politically messed up the pandemic situation here.
I hear a lot of opinions from so-called progressive countries about pageants, saying that they are "irrelevant" nowadays since they "objectify women" and all, but former beauty queens themselves and other hardcore pageant enthusiasts say that beauty pageants provide platform for women to voice out their opinions and thoughts on certain relevant global issues and to showcase themselves that women can do mostly anything that men can. It also provided many opportunities for winners to advance their own pre-pageant careers and explore new ones, as well as to bring into a bigger stage their personal advocacies.
So, comment down your thoughts and good day/buenos días/bom dia!
submitted by moshiyadafne to asklatinamerica [link] [comments]


2020.09.23 01:59 mtp6921 Budget Beef

I partied to much my freshman year in college and I wasn’t able to pull my GPA higher than 3.0. I graduated with a quality control degree and I wasn’t in high demand. When I went to my senior year job’s fair, just about every employer, I talked to laughed in my face, besides one employer.
The potential employer was “Budget Beef” and it was located in Matehuala, Mexico which is about 300 miles north of Mexico City
The HR representative said that the company owns four square miles of land, where they raise beef cows and sell it to emerging fast food franchises at cheap prices.
In addition to Beef cows, he told me, they get dairy cows as well, who no longer produce milk and mix it with the beef cow milk.
I really had no other choice and agreed to take the position. If I lasted a year they would reimburse me my travel expenses.
After graduation, I took a flight down to Mexico City and someone from the company drove me to Matehuala.
When I arrived at the farm / processing plant, I was amazed how big the compound was, there was thousands of cows and so much land that I wasn’t able to see it all and There were two very large processing plants.
I arrived on a Sunday and I was expected to start the next day.
Stan was my mentor and he showed me the processing plant, that I was going to be assigned.
I grew up in Denver, and had zero experience working with cows, which I fully disclosed when I interviewed for the position.
Stan told me the two plants process hundreds of cows a day. He told me the company wasn’t happy with it’s output and was looking to see if the factory, I was assigned could be more efficient.
I was assigned the beef cow plant and the other plant processed dairy cows which were brought over to my plant to be mixed with the younger more tender beef cows.
Stan and I drove in a golf cart and he showed me about two miles of land, where the beef cows graze. He pointed to the area where the dairy cows were, but we didn’t actually see them because it was to far and he didn’t think the golf cart had enough gas.
I worked six days a week. My apartment was owned by the company which was across the street from the processing plants.
I would see a continual amount of tractor trailer trucks transport the meat from the plant and then to Northern Mexico and the United States.
The compound was heavily guarded by ex military armed men, who patrolled the whole four miles of the compound.
I met the CEO of the company. He was a tough old schooled, southern millionaire from Texas. He didn’t care about anything else but numbers and how much chopped and hamburger patties, we were producing for fast food taco and hamburger joints.
I didn’t have a car and relied on the company to transport me to the local supermarket. I started putting on weight from watching too much television, so I decided to jog again.
I jogged around most of the perimeter of the compound besides some areas that were off limits.
I got used to the sun and the heat and eventually it didn’t bother me.
Everything was going good, until one night, I was woken up by a frantic Spanish speaking man who was completely naked. I had made the mistake of feeling secure and leaving my door unlocked, because of the large amount of security guards, that patrolled the compound.
I was dead asleep and all of sudden the man, who was profusely sweating came barging into my room. I was later told by Stan, that the compound was located on the migratory route for migrant workers from South America. The second he came barging into my room he kept saying “ayuadame”, which was one of the few words I understood to mean help me!
Fortunately, security knew the guy had come towards my apartment complex and their must of been 10 armed men who quickly subdued the man. The man didn’t leave without putting up a fight.
I really didn’t sleep much the remainder of the night. I didn’t know if that man was a local or one of the migrants, but seeing the absolute terror in his eyes was haunting.
As more time went on, I wanted to know everything about my company and the compound. I would watch some trucks pull up to the compound and unload cows and then other trucks would take the meat away. There was also about 100 local people who worked in various departments of the compound, who were trucked in each day by yellow buses.
On Christmas Day, the processing plant was operating at a minimal capacity and I noticed, while I was jogging that security was lax.
I decided to use this opportunity to sneak onto the more restricted part of the complex that was about three miles away.
I was stunned, when eventually I observed walls that surrounded about a half mile radius. I thought that’s what I had observed in the past but I was always too far away to be certain.
As I got closer to the wall a security car quickly approached me and asked me for security clearance. I apologized to the the man and he took me to the main headquarters, where I had never been and was where the CEO resided.
They actually put me in handcuffs and made me sit for two hours before the CEO came and met with me. He was real stern and told me “son, if you can’t follow the rules we have established here, then your going to be terminated.”
I thought to myself “What the hell is so important that it had to be done in secrecy.
The main thought I had was that the walled in area was either bring used for mining something or extracting oil from the ground.
The company was basically leasing the land with a 100 year agreement with the Mexican Government and they didn’t own the mineral rights, at least that’s what Stan eventually explained to me.
Then, I thought that perhaps the man who barged into my room was working in the mine, but I still couldn’t figure out why he was naked.
I learned that Stan had the security badges and clearances to go wherever he wanted. He was considered upper management and my boss as well.
One day, he came over to meet with me and at lunchtime he started to have a seizure that lasted about two minutes. He had told me he had epilepsy that was controlled by medication.
I remember from the first aide life guard lessons I took, was just to just keep the person safe. As, I was watching Stan finishing his seizure, I realized that he was wearing his security badges, which I removed and I put in my pocket. He was in a real stupor when he started to come out and I asked him for his security passwords and he mumbled “the cows don’t eat people” and then he fell unconscious.
Being in my early 20’s, I was starting to get bored of the job, so I really didn’t care if they fired me and I decided to use Stan’s security badges to see what was going on behind the walls.
So, while Stan was taken away to the hospital, I affixed his security badges to my shirt and then took the golf cart to the walled off area.
I approached the wall and security quickly came over to me. I showed him my clearances and they questioned me about the clearances and I told them I was promoted. Then Security asked me for the password and I said “the cows don’t eat people”. They were fumbling on their walkie talkies and they were trying to reach Stan. I don’t think they realized he went to the hospital and I basically told them in a stern tone that I didn't have time and "Stan told me that I needed to check on something behind the walls and if you don't let me in then your going to be in trouble."
Security reluctantly allowed me in and the second I got behind those walls I was completely stunned. From a distance, I saw hundreds of people walking around completely naked in a field.
They kind of were just standing, laying down, or were walking around aimlessly.
I watched them for about a half hour, then eventually a tractor came out pulling a cart, that had food and the naked people walked towards the food.
The armed guards watched over from towers. Also, I observed security woman watching radar for overhead planes and I could hear her communicating with a pilot, who worked for the company.
My mind was racing and I wasn't sure the purpose of the naked people. I thought were they prisoners? Were they being used for experiments? or was there something much worse going on?
Nobody talks, so its difficult to get answers. I decided to leave the walled off area and head back towards the processing plants.
With Stan's security clearances, I then went over to the dairy cow processing plant. The plant was equally as secured as the walled off area. The same process occurred, where I showed them my clearance with the same password and eventually they let me in.
I made my way to the upper viewing area. I really was in complete shock at what I observed.
A tractor trailer backed into the loading dock. Armed guards opened the back of the truck and naked person after naked person were instructed to walk through a walled in pathway that got narrower and narrower until only one person at a time could fit through, like a funnel. Anyone who didn’t walk or walked too slow got tased. As the people were funneled single filed into the plant, they eventually came to a doorway that was partitioned off by a non-see through plastic barrier.
As each person walked through plastic barrier, they were quickly shot in the head with something that looked like nail gun. Then, they fell onto a conveyor belt and were hoisted up by their two legs and then their meat was processed.
I was in shock in just how willingly and orderly all the naked people were hurled off the truck and went to be slaughtered. Most of the people who came off the truck were younger adults.
Then, the next truck backed in and the people on the truck were completely different. They too were all naked, but they were yelling and screaming and their ages varied. Security was beating them and the people were constantly being tased. All of them eventually, were put down and were slaughtered.
I’m not really sure how to describe what I felt watching everything unfold. I’m not sure of playing years of video games and watching horror movies just completely desensitized me. why didn't I run down and stop what was going on? The people on the last truck were yelling in terror.
I eventually left the plant and went back to my apartment. I just laid in my bed for hours and eventually I fell asleep.
I gradually woke up and had a feeling like I had taken a 100 Benadryls. When my eyes eventually focused, I realized that I was laying on my back outside and I was looking straight up into the sky. I then realized that I was completely naked. I then said "oh shit!" Because, I realized that I was within the walled off area, grazing in the field with the rest of the people, who were going to be slaughtered.
Panic started to kick in. I quickly regained consciousness. I kept circling in place trying to comprehend the gravity of the situation.
I tried walking towards the Security guards and each time I did they tased me with a prodding iron and I would fall to the floor.
I tried talking to the other people, but it was like they were never taught how to communicate with anyone. They kind of walked around aimlessly and would occasionally stop to drink water from one of the hoses or pick up scraps of food.
There must of have been thousands of naked people all spread out in a quarter mile area.
As I walked to the other end, I noticed that there was a large barbed wire fence separating two additional areas.
One area was for children and another area was for pregnant women.
I observed a tent with 100’s of cribs set up. Women would go around and bottle feed the babies. The women wouldn’t pick up the babies, they would just reach in with the bottles.
The toddlers and the older children would just sit or stand in their cribs.
The young babies would cry but no one would respond.
The pregnant women would just walk around aimlessly. I’m not sure if they even knew they were pregnant.
I couldn’t watch the children’s area it was too depressing.
As a whole, little physical activity was encouraged, with the intent to keep as much weight on the people as possible.
Everyone had a numbered GPS tag fastened around their necks.
The security guards would find a particular person, then someone would quickly evaluate the person’s weight and tone. If the evaluator thought the person was acceptable then that person would be brought to a tractor trailers. There was no arguing and no fussing the people just obeyed the guards.
The bathroom situation was revolting. There were rows of toilet spread out in different locations. The smell of shit and piss permeated the air. There were flys everywhere.
There were areas with mounds of hay, where people would sleep.
I was in the fields for days. It was absolutely the most horrifying experience, because I didn’t know when they were going to tell me to go on the truck.
Any type of physical contact was prohibited. A security guard would come around with tasers if that occurred.
About once every three days, the guards would come around with hoses and hose each person down.
The days were extremely hot and the nights were cold. The people knew to instinctively rub mud on themselves to protect their skin.
After two weeks, one of the security guards instructed me to follow him. I really had no idea what they were going to do to me. I was shaking in fright.
Eventually, I got to the wall and one of the guard’s threw a robe at me to put on.
I was then instructed to sit in a shed, which was not far from the wall.
The CEO came into the shed and I put my head down. He said to me “I know the last couple weeks have been hard on you. You have two choices. You can go back to the field or you could join the upper management of my team?”
I said instinctively “I’m in. I want to join.”
He said “Great! Are you going to run off the first opportunity you get?”
I replied “I have nowhere to run to. Nobody came looking for me in the last two weeks right?”
He nodded his head in agreement.
I then said “why do you do this?”
He replied “There are to many people in this world and not enough cows. People want their tacos and their burgers for one dollar and that’s what we provide.”
I then said “who are the people who don’t willingly go to get slaughtered?”
He responds “Those are migrant workers who were trying to escape from starvation. We pay $20 dollars per person. We have “hunters” who bring them to us. Those people would eventually die sooner than later. The rest of the meat is bread on our farm.”
Then, I was taken back to my apartment and things returned back to normal for me. Eventually, I would eat the “Budget Beef” hamburgers with of ketchup of course, because I realized that I already had been since I was a kid.
submitted by mtp6921 to SlumberReads [link] [comments]


2020.09.23 00:31 Phalanx-Spear Ærsk: The Phonology and Etymological Orthography of a Nordic West Germanic language

For ad werþe zen nýe Mannen, bez mann hæbbe allhjarted.
[ɸɔɾ ɑ ˈɰɛrːs̪ə ʃɲ̩ ˈnœʏ̯ːjə ˈmɑnːn̩ bəʃ ˈmɑnː ˈʃæbːə ˌɑlːˈʃɑrːtə]
for to become-inf the.m.sg new-def.m.sg Manne-the.m.sg be.fut.sg man.sg have-inf all-heart-def.n.sg
"To become God, you have to walk in everyone's shoes."
- Erish proverb
Erish (ærsk), an a posteriori West Germanic artlang, isn't the first constructed language I've worked on, but it is the first one I can say has come to a point where it is presentable. The concept is that, in the conworld, Erish arises from Proto-West Germanic nearby North Germanic languages as they arise from Proto-Norse, and is still in a sort of sprachbund with them. Intelligibility, particularly in speech, is hampered by Erish's own innovations, especially phonologically.
Here, I would like to provide a summary of the closest thing to a standard Erish pronunciation, as well as an account of the orthography, as its depth tells a bit about the changes that Erish has undergone. With each, I'll give a snippet about the goals I had going into them, as well as feedback questions I myself have - Erish is and will always be a work-in-progress. I am greatly indebted to a variety of resources, so I will provide several of them at the end of this post and the others that may follow it, as well as a concluding gloss.

Phonology

Most Erish speakers simply use their own dialects when speaking, up to and including the King or Queen. The pronunciation taught to foreigners, as well as the one used in national broadcasting, is that of Hamnstead, which was the city where radio broadcasting first developed in Erishland, and which is still a center of national media. The Hamnstead dialect is a Western dialect close enough to Southern dialects that its phonology is sort of a mixture of the two groups, plus its own quirks.
Goals
Personally, this phonology is my attempt at creating one reminiscent of the older stages of Germanic languages, but which feels plausibly modern and plausible in a place where North Germanic contact and influence continues into present. A bit of a summary and highlights of what that means:
Vowels
Hamnstead Erish has a rather bland vowel inventory for an Erish dialect. About the only notable feature, phonemically speaking, is that there is still a short /æ/ distinct from /ɛ/, though that's typical of Western dialects. Phonetically, though, the story's a bit more complicated - Hamnstead Erish is amongst the few dialects that can be argued to, in some limited way, preserve most of the original Old Erish diphthongs, and has re-innovated a very limited form of allophonic u-umlaut.

Front unrounded Front rounded Back
Close ɪ • iː ʏ • yː ʊ • uː
Mid ɛ • eː œ • øː ɔ • oː
Open æ • æː ɑ • ɑː
Consonants
Hamnstead Erish, like most Erish dialects, has a consonant inventory that is phonemically similar to the Nordic languages, but the allophony of these consonants is less so. Voiced stops regularly lenit to approximants that devoice and fricate word-finally; this leads to the notorious "Erish hiss". Notable aspects of Hamnstead's phonology are the merger of /ʂ/ and /ɕ/ into /ʃ/, a change which is common but still absent in Southern dialects, and that /ɣ/ is a velar approximant, instead of the labiovelar common to Western dialects.

Vclss. labial Vcd. labial Vclss. coronal Vcd. coronal Vclss. palatal Vcd. palatal Vclss. velar Vcd. velar
Nasal m n ɲ ŋ
Stops p b t d t͡ʃ (d͡ʒː) k (gː)
Cntnts. f (β) s (ð) ʃ ʝ x ɣ
Laterals l ʎ
Trill r
Phonotactics
Valid onset consonants:
Valid coda consonants:
Valid medial consonants:
All stressed syllables are inherently heavy - if there is no long vowel, the first consonant to follow is geminated. Neither long vowels nor geminates may occur in unstressed syllables.
Prosody
Like most other Germanic languages, the most common syllable to be stressed is the first (and often only) of a given word. Loanwords can follow different patterns, but a rule of thumb is that the syllable before the last consonant of a root is the one to be stressed.
Feedback Questions
Questions I personally have are:

Orthography & History

Erish is written with the standard 26 letters of the Latin alphabet and the additional letters þ, æ, and œ. Unfortunately, pronunciation cannot be succinctly described for Hamnstead Erish because the orthography is fairly etymological, essentially reflecting the pronunciation of Old Erish with a few simplifications and updates. It is, though, fairly regular, and the hope of Jugar Raskson, the father of modern Erish orthography, was that the written language would let as many people as possible derive their own pronunciation from the spelling.
Goals
Erish orthography is essentially fighting two battles: the battle to modernize spelling and keep the rules as regular as possible, and the battle to keep important cultural and religious texts from the Old Erish period as intelligible as possible. I've looked at Icelandic and Faroese for inspiration, but also incorporated principles from languages with less orthographic depth.
Vowels
The following table presents the pronunciation of vowel graphemes in Erish. Note that the "jV" digraphs are only pronounced in this way if the j is word-initial or can soften a preceding consonant:

Letter(s) a e, í, eì, aì i o, á, ú, aù, où u, ó y æ, já œ, jó, jú, ý, oì, eù
Short /ɑ/ /ɛ/ /ɪ/ /ɔ/ /ʊ/ /ʏ/ /æ/ /œ/
Long /ɑː/ /eː/ /iː/ /oː/ /uː/ /yː/ /æː/ /øː/
Consonants
To keep Erish consonants simple, and as allophony has already been covered, their transcription here is phonemic. In educational materials for Erish, consonants are generally divided into four groups, plain, strong, weak, and the letter g, which are grouped based on whether and how they can soften.
Basic rules about consonants include:
Plain consonants
Plain consonants are so-called because they cannot soften under any circumstances.

Letter(s) Hard Fricative
b /b/ binde "to bind" /ˈbɪnːdɛ/ /f/ lab "lab(oratory)" /ˈlɑːf/
f /f/ faþer "father" /ˈfɑːsɛ
m /m/ móte "must" /ˈmuːtɛ/
ng /ŋ/ wing "wing" /ˈɣɪŋː/
p /p/ "on" /ˈpoː/
r / rotte "rat" /ˈrɔtːɛ/
v /b/ virus "virus" /ˈbiːrʊs/ /f/ livte "lived" /ˈlɪfːtɛ/
Strong consonants
Strong consonants are "strong" enough it takes a j or z to soften them. Because strong consonants are long when softened and non-initial, they lack soft fricative forms. They include the coronal consonants which got palatalized to retroflex consonants, though z was retroflex for most of Erish history. The retroflex spellings tend not to occur in modern loanwords unless Henskland adopts a retroflex form; it's the only Land left that hasn't merged the retroflex consonants with the palatals.

Letter(s) Hard Soft Fricative
d /d/ dœr "door" /ˈdøː /ʝ/ bedje "to ask" /ˈbɛʝːɛ/ /s/ sæd "seed" /ˈsæːs/
l /l/ láte "to let" /ˈloːtɛ/ /ʎ/ ljúht "light" /ˈʎɔxːt/
n /n/ naht "night" /ˈnɑxːt/ /ɲ/ hænje "to hang" /ˈʃæɲːɛ/
s /s/ synge "to sing" /ˈsʏŋːɛ/ /ʃ/ sjelv "self" /ˈʃɛlːf/
st /st/ stóren "big" /ˈstuːrɛn/ /ʃ/ stjarne "star" /ˈʃɑrːnɛ/
t /t/ sten "stone" /ˈsteːn/ /t͡ʃ/ sitje "to sit" /ˈsɪt͡ʃːɛ/
z /ʃ/ meze "more" /ˈmeːʃɛ/
þ /s/ þing "thing" /ˈsɪŋː/ /ʃ/ þjúv "thief" /ˈʃoːf/
Weak consonants
Weak consonants are "weak" enough that vowels can soften them in addition to j; in instances where a soft pronunciation is used, it is either because a hard letter is used, or because there is a v "shielding" them. They include the reflexes of the Old Erish velar consonants /x,k,sk/, as well as the labiovelars /xʷ,kʷ,skʷ/. The basic principle governing their softening is that they do so before certain vowels initially, and after other vowels elsewhere. If neither of these conditions are met, they use a hard pronunciation. It is to be noted that, barring one exception, acute accented letters have the same effects as their unaccented counterparts, and so they are not treated seperately here (grave accented vowels never soften a consonant).

Letter(s) Conditions or example Softens initially Softens elsewhere Hard
h (short), ch (long) Conditions to /ʃ/ before e, i, y, æ, œ to /ʃ/ after e, i, y, æ, œ /x/ in all other conditions
Examples himmel "sky" /ˈʃɪmːɛl/ reht "justice" /ˈrɛʃːt/ hús "house" /ˈxoːs/
k (short), ck (long) Conditions to /t͡ʃ/ before e, i, y, æ, œ to /t͡ʃ/ after i, y /k/ in all other conditions
Examples kyng "king" /ˈt͡ʃʏŋː/ rík "realm" /ˈreːt͡ʃ/ bók "book" /ˈbuːk/
sk (short and long) Conditions to /ʃ/ before e, i, y, æ, œ to /ʃ/ after a (not á), e, i, y, æ, œ, or a consonant /sk/ in all other conditions
Examples skíne "to shine" /ˈʃeːnɛ/ fisk "fish" /ˈfɪʃː/ busk "bush" /ˈbʊsːk/
Erish used to be far more inconsistent in representing when exceptions to these conditions occurred, but modern spelling is extremely regular in this regard. Soft consonants in instances where a hard consonant is expected are represented in different ways depending upon if they are initial, non-initial and short, or non-initial and long.

Desired soft consonant Location and length Grapheme(s) Example
h /ʃ/ Initial hj hjarte "heart" /ˈʃɑrːtɛ/
Non-initial and short N/A
Non-initial and long hj (singular instance) hlæhje "to laugh" /ˈxlæʃːɛ/
k /t͡ʃ/ Initial kj kjúe "to chew" /ˈt͡ʃoːɣɛ/
Non-initial and short c koc "coach" /ˈkoːt͡ʃ/
Non-initial and long zk, rarely kj þækje "to think" /ˈsæt͡ʃːɛ/
sk /ʃ/ Initial skj skjá "cloud" /ˈʃoː/
Non-initial and short N/A
Non-initial and long sc broscyre "brochure" /ˈbrɔʃːʏ
Hard consonants are represented with similar treatments, with the grapheme depending upon whether the instance is word-initial, non-initial and short, or non-initial and long:

Desired hard consonant Location and length Grapheme(s) Example
h /x/ Initial hv hvint "hint" /ˈxɪnːt/
Non-initial and short x exo "echo" /ˈeːxɔ/
Non-initial and long hh, rarely hv sehve "to see" /ˈsɛxːɛ/
k /k/ Initial qu quinne "woman" /ˈkɪnːɛ/
Non-initial and short qu kliqu "clique" /ˈkliːk/
Non-initial and long kk, rarely kv republikk "republic" /rɛpʊbˈlɪkː/
sk /sk/ Initial squ squeìt "(ice/roller) skate" /ˈskeːt/
Non-initial and short N/A
Non-initial and long squ fresque "fresco" /ˈɸrɛsːkɛ/
G-Consonants
The letter g is not the only consonant grapheme of the last group of Erish consonants, but the set is essentially used to indicate hardness and softness not unlike h, k, and sk. It is grouped by itself because it represents six phonemes and has less consistency in which graphemes are used to represent hardness and softness for those phonemes. In principle, g is just the voiced counter part to h, k, and sk, with the addendum that before nasals it has a nasal pronunciation that can be hard or soft; the fricativization it experiences is expectable because it is voiced.

Letter(s) Conditions or example Softens initially Softens elsewhere Hard
g (short), cg (long) Regular conditions to /ʝ/ before e, i, y, æ, or œ, and another vowel to /ʝ/ after e, i, y, æ, or œ, and another vowel /ɣ/ in all other regular conditions
Regular examples gæst "guest" /ˈʝæsːt/ weges "ways" /ˈɣeːʝɛs/ "to go" /ˈɣoː/
Fricative conditions N/A to /ʃ/ between the vowels e, i, y, æ, and œ, and the end of a word or the consonants d, s, or t to /x/ between all other vowels or l or r, and the end of a word or the consonants d, s, or t
Fricative examples N/A ig "I" /ˈiːʃ/ dag "day" /ˈdɑːx/
Nasal conditions N/A to /ɲ/ between the vowels e, i, y, æ, and œ, and n to /ŋ/ between all other vowels or l or r, and n
Nasal examples N/A regn "rain" /ˈrɛɲːn/ Ragnar /ˈraŋːnɑ
Ideally, g should have a regular distribution of "soft in hard contexts" graphemes and "hard in soft contexts" graphemes, but the reality is that etymology means different graphemes are used in what should be regular contexts. Nonetheless, there aren't so many graphemes in use:

Desired consonants Location and length Grapheme(s) Example
Soft g (/ʝ/, /ʃ/, /ɲ/) Initial j, gj (less common) jorþ "earth" /ˈʝɔrːs/, gjos "they (f.)" /ˈʝoːs/
Non-initial and short j garaj "garage" /ɣaˈrɑːʃ/
Non-initial and long zg, gj (rare) brizg "bridge (game)" /ˈbrɪʝː/
Hard g (/ɣ/, /x/, /ŋ/) Initial w, gv gvad "what" /ˈɣɑː/, west "west" /ˈɣɛsːt/
Non-initial and short w intriw "intrigue" /ɪnˈtriːx/
Non-initial and long gg rigg "rig" /ˈrɪɣː/
Feedback Questions
Questions I personally have are:

Resources

This last section is dedicated to the resources I think have been most useful in the creation of Erish, and that are valuable to people looking to make a Germanic language, or even a conlang in general. I'm certain some of these sources will be familiar to many members of this sub, but they're there for those to whom they aren't:

Conclusion

It's been a long post, so I won't take up so much more space. Seeing as how it's a common enough translation in initial posts, though, I would like to provide the Lord's Prayer in Erish:
Written Erish:
Faþern osren, Hlárden gwen bez í Hjomn,
Be namen zín werþe heligende;
Be ríked zítt kome;
Be wiljo zí skehe pá jorþo zí som í Hjomn;
Be geve til oss í dag ossert daglige brod,
end forláte oss skuldostos osros sá som wid forláte osros skuldos;
End be bringe ick pá oss í fresnos, men frælse pá oss frá yvel.
Zítt bez ríked, end mahten end ero í œighedo.
Amen.

Hamnstead Erish pronunciation:
[ˈɸɑːs̪ɐn ˌɔs̪ɾn̩ ˈxl̥ɔrːd̪n̩ ɰn̩ bəʃ ˌɛɪ̯ ˈʃɔmːn]
[ˈbɛɪ̯ː ˈnɑːmn̩ ˌʃɛɪ̯n ˌɰɛɾs̪ə ˈʃɛɪ̯ːlɪjn̪̩d̪ə]
[ˈbɛɪ̯ː ˈrɛɪ̯ːt͡ʃə ˌʃɛt̪ ˈkʷʰoːmə]
[ˈbɛɪ̯ː ˈɰɪʎ̟ːɔ ˌʃɛɪ̯ ˈʃɛɪ̯ːʃə ˌpɔʊ̯ ˈjʷɔrːs̪ə ˌʃɛɪ̯ s̪ɔm ˌɛɪ̯ ˈʃɔmːn]
[ˈbɛɪ̯ː ˈjɛɪ̯ːβ̞ə ˌt̪il ˌɔs̪ ˌɛɪ̯ ˈd̪ɑːx ˌɔs̪ɐt̪ ˈd̪ɑːxˌlijə ˈbɾoːs̪]
[n̪̩d̪ ɸɔɾˈlɔʊ̯t̪ə ˌɔs̪ ˈs̪kʷʊl̪ːd̪ɔs̪t̪ɔs̪ ˌɔs̪ɾɔs̪ ˌs̪ɔʊ̯ s̪ɔm ˌɰi ˈɔs̪ːɾɔs̪ ˈskʷʊl̪ːd̪ɔs̪]
[n̪̩d̪ ˈbɛɪ̯ː ˈbɾɪŋːə ˌɪt͡ʃ pɔ ˌɔs̪ ˌɛɪ̯ ˈɸɾ̥eːs̪ˌnɔʊ̯s̪ mn̩ ˈɸɾ̥æl̪ːs̪ə pɔ ˌɔs̪ ˌɸɾ̥ɔʊ̯ ˈyʉ̯ːβ̞l̩]
[ˌʃɛt̪ bəʃ ˈrɛɪ̯ːt͡ʃə n̪̩d̪ ˈmɑxːt̪n̩ n̪̩d̪ ˈɛɪ̯ːɾɔ ˌɛɪ̯ ˈœʏ̯ːˌjiˌʃːɛɪ̯s̪ɔ]
[ˈɑːmɛ̠n]

Gloss:
father-the.m.sg our.incl-m.sg lord-the.m.sg who.m.sg.dir be.fut.sg in Heaven
be.fut.sbjv name-the.m.sg thy.m.sg become-inf sanctify-ptcp.prs.m.sg
be.fut.sbjv realm-the.n.sg thy.n.sg come-inf
be.fut.sbjv will-the.f.sg thy.f.sg happen-inf on earth-the.f.sg thy.f.sg as in Heaven
be.fut.sbjv give-inf to us.incl.dat in day our.incl-n.sg daily-def.n.sg bread
and forgive-inf us.incl.dat guilt-the.f.pl our.incl-f.pl so as we.excl forgive-inf our.incl-f.pl guilt-pl
and be.fut.sbjv bring-inf not acc us.incl.acc in temptation but free-inf acc us.incl.acc from evil
thine be.fut.sg realm-the.n.sg and power-the.m.sg and glory-the.f.sg in eternity-the.f.sg
amen

English translation:
Our father, the Lord who will always be in Heaven,
May it always be that thy name sanctifies itself;
May it always be that thy kingdom comes;
May it always be that thy will comes upon your Earth as in Heaven;
May it always be that thou givest us our daily bread,
and forgive our guilts for us, as we forgive our guilts;
And may it always be that thou dost not bring us into temptation but free us from evil.
Thine will always be the kingdom, and the power and the glory in eternity.
Amen.
Notes about the translation:
submitted by Phalanx-Spear to conlangs [link] [comments]


2020.09.22 17:16 CodeInMyMind 24M 🇪🇦 - Looking friends to practice English

Hi, Im a 24 spanish men looking for a friend to chat in english (only text, because i'm shy and my english is not fluent).
Im an engineer, we can talk about all and if you want you can practice with me your Spanish or Catalan (yes, Im from Catalonia).
PM me :)
submitted by CodeInMyMind to MakeNewFriendsHere [link] [comments]


2020.09.22 16:51 shmarhar Poem of the Day: "You Foolish Men"

You Foolish Men by Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz
You foolish men who lay the guilt on women, not seeing you're the cause of the very thing you blame;
if you invite their disdain with measureless desire why wish they well behave if you incite to ill.
You fight their stubbornness, then, weightily, you say it was their lightness when it was your guile.
In all your crazy shows you act just like a child who plays the bogeyman of which he's then afraid.
With foolish arrogance you hope to find a Thais in her you court, but a Lucretia when you've possessed her.
What kind of mind is odder than his who mists a mirror and then complains that it's not clear.
Their favour and disdain you hold in equal state, if they mistreat, you complain, you mock if they treat you well.
No woman wins esteem of you: the most modest is ungrateful if she refuses to admit you; yet if she does, she's loose.
You always are so foolish your censure is unfair; one you blame for cruelty the other for being easy.
What must be her temper who offends when she's ungrateful and wearies when compliant?
But with the anger and the grief that your pleasure tells good luck to her who doesn't love you and you go on and complain.
Your lover's moans give wings to women's liberty: and having made them bad, you want to find them good.
Who has embraced the greater blame in passion? She who, solicited, falls, or he who, fallen, pleads?
Who is more to blame, though either should do wrong? She who sins for pay or he who pays to sin?
Why be outraged at the guilt that is of your own doing? Have them as you make them or make them what you will.
Leave off your wooing and then, with greater cause, you can blame the passion of her who comes to court?
Patent is your arrogance that fights with many weapons since in promise and insistence you join world, flesh and devil.
Poema Hombres Necios Que Acusáis (original Spanish)
submitted by shmarhar to FemaleDatingStrategy [link] [comments]


2020.09.22 16:00 sharewithme Word of The Hour: council

English: council
  1. an assembly of men summoned or convened for consultation, deliberation, or advice
  2. a body of man elected or appointed to constitute an advisory or a legislative assembly
  3. as, a council of physicians for consultation in a critical case
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Translations
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Thank you so much for being a member of our community!
submitted by sharewithme to Word_of_The_Hour [link] [comments]


2020.09.22 12:27 CodeInMyMind 24M 🇪🇦 - Looking a friend to practise my english :)

Hi, Im a 24 spanish men looking for a friend to chat in english (only text, because i'm shy and my english is not fluent).
Im an engineer, we can talk about all and if you want you can practise with me your Spanish or Catalan (yes, Im from Catalonia).
PM me :)
submitted by CodeInMyMind to Needafriend [link] [comments]


2020.09.22 05:03 willkillme Which actress is a 10 for all Spanish men?

Cameron Diez
submitted by willkillme to Jokes [link] [comments]


2020.09.22 03:11 MadLib1998 Should I tell my ex boyfriend that I'm a lesbian so he can stop waiting around for me? Or is this a terrible idea??

So I made a post a few days ago ( here ) where I was super happy and excited about realizing I'm a lesbian! In that post I talked about how I broke up with my college boyfriend a few months ago and moved away to my family's home-country to learn Spanish and be with family.
The problem now is this: Ex-BF and I still talk several times a week, because we still want to remain friends. He's a good guy and he says he's found it helpful to be able to keep in contact with me. However, he says he wants to wait for me. The original reason we broke up, aside from issues with my sexuality which I didn't tell him, was because I couldn't get a job due to the pandemic and decided to leave the country. I'll be here for about 2 years and then I plan on going to grad school and then a PhD. This boy says he wants to wait for me for all those years. Now, I'm not delusional. I know this wouldn't happen anyways, because people don't work like that. And I don’t want that to happen. But this isn't something he said just while we were breaking up, this is something he's repetitively told me up until last week when we last spoke.
And I feel like if I told him I'm a lesbian and there's no chance of us ever getting back together, he might be able to move on faster. I've told him I don't want him to wait for me and I want him to live his life, but he says he doesn't care. He says he no longer feels heartbroken but I don't know. Am I an asshole to withhold this information that could help him move on or would I be an even bigger asshole to tell him? After 2 years of nothing but honesty and kindness from him, do I owe it to him to say something or keep my mouth shut?
I hope I don't sound insanely conceited or anything, I just don't want him to spend any time, like, pining and not being happy or thinking something might happen and it won't. Plus when I eventually begin posting stuff about being a lesbian on social media, I don't want him to get angry that I didn't tell him earlier. I don't mind keeping contact with him but I don't want to if the only reason he wants to is because he thinks something will change. I'd like to keep in some sort of contact only if he truly wants to be just friends.
Anyway, I'm so sorry for yet another long ass post. I promise if/when I make another post it will NOT be about men in any way! Thank you for your patience with my baby-dykery!
submitted by MadLib1998 to actuallesbians [link] [comments]


2020.09.21 22:01 AnglicanPrayerMan A word from Franciscan Brother Richard Rohr about these days

I wanted to share this bit that I received from Richard Rohr's daily emails. I don't often share emails I receive with others, but given the state of the world, I thought this might help some folks. Also, he's a Franciscan, so that's pretty cool.

Some simple but urgent guidance to get us through these next months.
I awoke on Saturday, September 19, with three sources in my mind for guidance: Etty Hillesum (1914 – 1943), the young Jewish woman who suffered much more injustice in the concentration camp than we are suffering now; Psalm 62, which must have been written in a time of a major oppression of the Jewish people; and the Irish Poet, W.B.Yeats (1965 – 1939), who wrote his “Second Coming” during the horrors of the World War I and the Spanish Flu pandemic.
These three sources form the core of my invitation. Read each one slowly as your first practice. Let us begin with Etty:
There is a really deep well inside me. And in it dwells God. Sometimes I am there, too … And that is all we can manage these days and also all that really matters: that we safeguard that little piece of You, God, in ourselves.
—Etty Hillesum, Westerbork transit camp
Note her second-person usage, talking to “You, God” quite directly and personally. There is a Presence with her, even as she is surrounded by so much suffering.
Then, the perennial classic wisdom of the Psalms:
In God alone is my soul at rest.
God is the source of my hope.
In God I find shelter, my rock, and my safety.
Men are but a puff of wind,
Men who think themselves important are a delusion.
Put them on a scale,
They are gone in a puff of wind.
—Psalm 62:5–9
What could it mean to find rest like this in a world such as ours? Every day more and more people are facing the catastrophe of extreme weather. The neurotic news cycle is increasingly driven by a single narcissistic leader whose words and deeds incite hatred, sow discord, and amplify the daily chaos. The pandemic that seems to be returning in waves continues to wreak suffering and disorder with no end in sight, and there is no guarantee of the future in an economy designed to protect the rich and powerful at the expense of the poor and those subsisting at the margins of society.
It’s no wonder the mental and emotional health among a large portion of the American population is in tangible decline! We have wholesale abandoned any sense of truth, objectivity, science or religion in civil conversation; we now recognize we are living with the catastrophic results of several centuries of what philosophers call nihilism or post-modernism (nothing means anything, there are no universal patterns).
We are without doubt in an apocalyptic time (the Latin word apocalypsis refers to an urgent unveiling of an ultimate state of affairs). Yeats’ oft-quoted poem “The Second Coming” then feels like a direct prophecy. See if you do not agree:
Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Somehow our occupation and vocation as believers in this sad time must be to first restore the Divine Center by holding it and fully occupying it ourselves. If contemplation means anything, it means that we can “safeguard that little piece of You, God,” as Etty Hillesum describes it. What other power do we have now? All else is tearing us apart, inside and out, no matter who wins the election or who is on the Supreme Court. We cannot abide in such a place for any length of time or it will become our prison.
God cannot abide with us in a place of fear.
God cannot abide with us in a place of ill will or hatred.
God cannot abide with us inside a nonstop volley of claim and counterclaim.
God cannot abide with us in an endless flow of online punditry and analysis.
God cannot speak inside of so much angry noise and conscious deceit.
God cannot be found when all sides are so far from “the Falconer.”
God cannot be born except in a womb of Love.
So offer God that womb.
Stand as a sentry at the door of your senses for these coming months, so “the blood-dimmed tide” cannot make its way into your soul.
If you allow it for too long, it will become who you are, and you will no longer have natural access to the “really deep well” that Etty Hillesum returned to so often and that held so much vitality and freedom for her.
If you will allow, I recommend for your spiritual practice for the next four months that you impose a moratorium on exactly how much news you are subject to—hopefully not more than an hour a day of television, social media, internet news, magazine and newspaper commentary, and/or political discussions. It will only tear you apart and pull you into the dualistic world of opinion and counter-opinion, not Divine Truth, which is always found in a bigger place.
Instead, I suggest that you use this time for some form of public service, volunteerism, mystical reading from the masters, prayer—or, preferably, all of the above.
You have much to gain now and nothing to lose. Nothing at all.
And the world—with you as a stable center—has nothing to lose.
And everything to gain.
Richard Rohr, September 19, 2020
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2020.09.21 16:00 sharewithme Word of The Hour: religion

English: religion
  1. a system of faith and worship
  2. the outward act or form by which men indicate their recognition of the existence of a god or of gods having power over their destiny, to whom obedience, service, and honor are due
  3. a manifestation of piety
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Translations
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See previous words @ https://wordofthehour.org/past
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2020.09.21 04:29 InsecureKoala 34/F/USA [F4M] - Let me try this one more time before I apply for Married at First Sight and shame my family...

I posted here a little bit ago, but the few connections I made just kind of fizzled into .... the abyss. But, hey, let's try this again, shall we? Bumble sure isn't doing me any favors.
Anyway, I'm a very tall woman (6'2), black, and curvy looking for someone to chat with. The combination of my height, race, and size often makes me fetishized by men - and I am not into it. If you are looking for someone to be your cultural experience, no thank you. I would date a little shorter than me (maybe 5'10-5'11), I don't care about race, and I don't care about size. I do care about people having a good heart and being able to carry a conversation.
I am not a gamer, and I don't watch anime, but I don't care if you are or do. I watch trash reality tv, read self help books, and fall down ALL the google rabbit holes. If you can teach me something new, I'm already in love. Okay, just kidding, but I LOVE to learn. I have hippie tendencies, so anything about astrology, energy, holistic health...all that stuff is right up my alley. Sociology and psychology are big interests of mine too, as well as music.
Working professionally, and trying to balance working on myself personally. I lost 100 pounds in the past, then put 50 back on, and am now working on losing 35 more to get back to where I was. If anyone has an Apple Watch and can help hold me accountable, that would be great. Beauty comes from within, and I am working on feeling beautiful spiritually, as well as fitting in some clothes I really like.
I used to speak Spanish fluently, but I lost it because of loss of practice. If you speak Spanish that would be awesome.
So, here is my second try. The older I get the more I realize that the #1 thing I am looking for is someone I feel safe with, and that person really could be anywhere in the world. You know when you meet someone and you just click? I miss that. :( The person you can text whenever and you always have a decent conversation...those people aren't on Bumble. All I have seen for the past month is "Hey" "How are you" "Hey" "Cool." Does anyone TALK anymore?
Let me know if you are a pretty cool dude looking for someone to bond with during quasi-quarantine! I think I'm pretty quirky, if not cool. And I have great jokes!
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2020.09.21 03:58 Artbabe33445 Looking for Fandom and Original Character Roleplays (M/M Only)

As the post title says I am looking for an RP partner. I am quite literate and have been working on Omegle and email for the last few years with a couple of friends.
I like to RP mainly within a fandom doing an m/m pair. I have one or two original characters that I would like to use. I do prefer to play in scifi/fantasy realm, more than slice of life content. I'm hoping that I can find a partner that is willing to write more than a few sentences per post and either join me on discord or over email.
Fandoms (I'm listing some of my favorites, but I am open to so many more)
The Witcher: Jaskier x Geralt, Geralt x Eskel, Geralt x Emiel
Dragon Age: Fenris x Male Hawke
Overwatch: Hanzo X McCree, Reaper x Soldier 76
Borderlands: Handsome Jack x Rhys
Teen Wolf: Stiles x Derek
Marvel: Tony X Stephen Strange, Steve x Bucky, Thor x Loki, Spiderman x Deadpool
DC: Superman x Batman, Batman x Joker (Also John Doe from the Telltale game), Tim X Kon, Dick x Jason Todd
Anita Blake Vampire Hunter : Jason x Jean-Claude(JC) JC X Nathaniel x Asher Asher x JC Jason x Richard Asher x Nathaniel
Angel/Buffy the Vampire Slayer: Angel x Spike
X-Men: Logan x Kurt Wagner, Logan x Remy
Original Pairings:
Omegaverse Vampire x Vampire Demon x Angel Demon x Demon Renaissance Painter x Model - Da-Vinci and Salai (look it up on google it is amazing!) 1950's Business men and so many more.......
I have one original characteidea that I'm going to post here.
Original character: Alexander Margil Species: Demon/Shifter Age:430….maybe older, he quit counting after his 3 century, Turned at around age 25 Sexual Preference: None Languages: English, Spanish, French, German….etc (he’s been around for a while) Birthplace: Madrid, Spain Appearance: 6’3”, Thin Muscular Build, Red Blond Hair, brown/tanned skin, Deep green Eyes. Personality/Background: He was born to Don and Doña Santos Margil. His family was very rich and Alexander wanted nothing. The boy squandered his wealth as he grew. During his teenage years Alexander had a series of torrid affairs. One such affair was with a young Duchess who was betrothed to another man. In order to save herself from ridicule and shame she claimed that Alexander raped her.
To prevent the execution of his son his father exiled him to his country estate in the free world. Unknown to his family the Americas held much more danger for the boy than if he had stayed in Madrid. The native population had overrun his families complex and were using it to lead a rebellion. Alexander was captured the moment he entered the estate.
Alexander was then taken as a sacrifice to their dark god. Instead of killing the man though the process changed him into a Monster. He became a brainless beast that the natives used to hunt down and kill the Europeans invading their land.
He had no memory of his past only the taste of the sweet blood and the echoes of their screams. None of the natives showed the beast any kindness, accept one. The young native man, Rapu.. During his days as the beast, he would revert back to his human form. Rapu would feed and wash the beast. Those were the only moments of piece Alexander knew, and even with his mind twisted and torn he fell in love with the young Rapu. Their love was due to fail though, as Rapu was destined to be sacrificed to their Gods. The chief of the tribe knew of the love between the young male and the beast and ordered Rapu’s sacrifice during the Summer Solstice.
They made Alexander watch as they slit his throat and tore out his heart. The howls that echoed through the forest that nice still haunt the people of the amazon. Alexander slaughtered the whole tribe and it is said that his howls can be heard every solstice.
Story Ideas: Modern Day → Alexander is now working as a Guide in the deep Amazon. I hope to have him meet another man that he becomes infatuated with and saves from dying in the jungle or another supernatural entity
If you find something you would like to do with me. Please hit me up in a PM. :)
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2020.09.21 01:56 SolgerYTV UGA Chances (IN-State)

I was hoping to get insight on my chances of getting into UGA (University of Georgia) for the Fall Semester of 2021.
I have a 3.8 HS GPA, 3.6 (Hope) GPA
White, Male, GA
1250 SAT (Hope to improve this coming October to at least 1300)
Involved in soccer my freshman year, cross-country the sophomore through junior
Spanish Club (Junior and Senior)
Total Person Program (Junior and Senior) (Volunteer Stuff)
BETA Club
Have taken three AP Exams, receiving two 4's and one 5.
Men's Chorus All of HS
Had a Job since Sophomore Year
Signed Up for 6 AP Classes This Year
submitted by SolgerYTV to chanceme [link] [comments]


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