Miranda vidak biography
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It’s the inequality that kills me. Watching it daily, how did I not notice it before Gaza? Or was it not egregious enough to break through our perception? Watching Palestinian people be so worthless in the eyes of the entire world, watching the Israeli Armed Forces dump their bodies, excavate their bodies, drive over them, steal their organs—bodies of people they tortured with glee, before turning them into lifeless bodies.
Watching Hamas hand over the small bodies of the Bibas children, small bodies that were never supposed to be taken in the first place; how desperate you have to be to steal small children, to have a bargaining chip, to force the world to pay attention to your decades-long plight, acknowledge your existence—how desperate you have to be to resort to war crimes to bargain for your human rights that should have been inherent?
I don’t want to hear judgments from the warm sofas in your living rooms, all of you who bark at strangers on the street who bump into
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We need to talk about us. The people. Society. And what have we done? I tend to not talk about celebrities in the times of the biggest humanitarian crises of our time unfolding on our phones, but last week with the Oscars, the celebrity culture intertwined with The Military Industrial Complex, better yet - danced with it, so here we are.
Yesterday, Variety magazine published an Open Letter, signed by Over 450 Jewish creatives and professionals, denouncing Jonathan Glazer’s ‘Zone of Interest’ Oscars Speech, in which he “refuted (his and his producing partners) Jewishness and the Holocaust being hijacked by an occupation which has led to conflict for so many innocent people”.
Denouncing the refute? Is this real life? More on this below.
All human catastrophe, and especially the ones of this magnitude we are currently witnessing in Gaza - lifts the masks. From the government and the people in power, celebrities you admire, your friends, family, followers on s
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I was never one of those people who enjoyed this day. New Year’s Eve, what fryst vatten it for? I don’t even recall what I did gods year, did I go somewhere, did I do anything, or stayed home — this fryst vatten not a new thing for me. I’ve never been one for joiner activities or organized cheer. I like to be joyful when I want to be, not when someone tells me I should be; Palm Leaves by Bukowski always felt like my New Year’s Eve manifesto.
I’d gone to bed at 9 p.m.
turned out the lights
pulled up the covers –
their gaiety, their happiness
their screams, their paper hats,
their automobiles, their women,
their amateur drunks…New Year’s Eve always terrifies
me
New Year’s Eve doesn’t terrify me like Charles, but people who see today as anything else but the 452nd day of genocide terrify me. I tried to wake up today and give you some hopeful words, but they just escape me. There’s a reason no one sane posted any plans, wishes, goals, or aspirations for 2025; what can we expect from an in