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Paul Szoldra - The FBI Goes To Disturbing Lengths To Set Up Potential Terrorists
For those of you who find it hard to believe that the FBI does infiltrate mainly Muslim communities with intents of entrapment.
(via lovenerdeen)
The whole world is now rehearsing the exotic names of the main suspects fingered as the ‘Boston bombers’: Tamerlan and Dzhokhar. The two young men have been treated with ‘celebrity’ attention by the media as the public is struggling to define the motives and circumstances that led to their recent actions.
The 19-year old Dzhokhar hasen’t spoken to investigators yet because he can’t. He is said to be ‘intubated and sedated’ with a throat wound. Boston Mayor Tom Menino voiced concerns Sunday that authorities may never be able to question him at all.
One thing remains unclear though – how the young man could walk out of the boat he was hiding in already with a throat wound that he is now almost dying from.
“Nobody is saying Tamerlan and Dzhokhar Tsarnaev didn’t do what everybody is saying they did – nor the police words of violent resistance to arrest which caused further fatalities. It’s just their action looks bizarre and illogical based on how they lived their lives.”
I still can’t get over this, he’s in the hospital and may never be able to speak again yet the picture above clearly shows him coming out of the boat unharmed. However, conflicting reports say that the throat wound was the cause of a suicide attempt “That wound to the back of the neck is very possibly a suicide attempt. They say it appears from the wound that he might have stuck a gun in his mouth, and fired and actually just went out the back of his neck without killing him” While there are other reports that say he was shot in the throat and that his “tongue was injured in a gunshot to the throat before his arrest.” Meanwhile the LA times reports a conflicting side ”The neck wound apparently did not initially silence Dzhokhar Tsarnaev, 19, who was swearing profusely in the ambulance ride after his final confrontation with the FBI, according to a source familiar with the case.” Yet now he is unable to speak?
(via nabeyaaa)
I want to give someone roses. I want to be wearing a tie, walk up to their door step. Ring the doorbell. Feel those butterflies. Think about what I’m going to say. Fix my hair quickly before they come to the door. Then when the door starts make that rickety noise because of them fussing with the door knob. Instantly my palms get clammy. I’d have the roses behind my back then when they open the door, I’d hug them with one arm around their waist. Give them the slightest kiss on the cheek. Then give them the flowers. The smile on their face would absolutely make me happy. They’d set them down, and I’d grab their hand walk them to my car…open the door for them. We’d go to dinner, take a drive through the city, eat some ice cream, laugh all night. Then at the end of the night…I’d take them back to their door. Give them the slightest kiss, and wait for them to return safely. The flowers I gave them at the beginning would be waiting their for them. When they see the roses I’d hope they would miss me until the next time we meet.
<3
holy shit.
Yeah, he’s fucking amazing!
Why cant all boys be like this?
(via yasminnnxo)
(via qingdom)
“The olive trees! What did the olive trees do? This olive tree that prays to God, what did it do?”
- Bassem Abu-Rahma in 5 Broken Cameras (2011)
(via blackstarastronomy)
(via arabarabarab)
immigrant privilege is fleeing away from a war torn country that you love with all of your heart and being forced to live in a country where everyone accuses you of stealing their welfare and their jobs and their homes. where everyone wishes you were gone. immigrant privilege is…
My vagina was green, water soft pink fields, cow mooing sun resting sweet boyfriend touching lightly with soft piece of blond straw.
There is something between my legs. I do not know what it is. I do not know where it is. I do not touch. Not now. Not anymore. Not since.
My vagina was chatty, can’t wait, so much, so much saying, words talking, can’t quit trying, can’t quit saying, oh yes, oh yes.
Not since I dream there’s a dead animal sewn in down there with thick black fishing line. And the bad dead animal smell cannot be removed. And its throat is slit and it bleeds through all my summer dresses.
My vagina singing all girl songs, all goat bells ringing songs, all wild autumn field songs, vagina songs, vagina home songs.
Not since the soldiers put a long thick rifle inside me. So cold, the steel rod canceling my heart. Don’t know whether they’re going to fire it or shove it through my spinning brain. Six of them, monstrous doctors with black masks shoving bottles up me too. There were sticks, and the end of a broom.
My vagina swimming river water, clean spilling water over sun-baked stones over stone clit, clit stones over and over.
Not since I heard the skin tear and made lemon screeching sounds, not since a piece of my vagina came off in my hand, a part of the lip, now one side of the lip is completely gone.
My vagina. A live wet water village. My vagina my hometown.
Not since they took turns for seven days smelling like feces and smoked meat, they left their dirty sperm inside me. I became a river of poison and pus and all the crops died, and the fish.
My vagina a live wet water village.
They invaded it. Butchered it and burned it
down.
I do not touch now.
Do not visit.
I live someplace else now.
I don’t know where that is.
My Vagina Was My Village, a monologue compiled from the testimonies of Bosnian women subjected to rape camps.
(Hear it recited here)
An estimated 20,000 to 50,000 women were raped during the Bosnian Genocide. Amnesty reminds that out of the tens of thousands of alleged crimes of sexual violence committed against women and girls during the Bosnian war, fewer than 40 cases have been prosecuted by either the Hague Tribunal, or courts in Bosnia. (x)
(via amaalsdrifting)
I know I want Love . I know I want YOUR love.
and maybe Love with someone else might be the same or better but I KNOW I want YOUR love .
and maybe love some other time might be better but I know I want Love with you now and forever
And maybe just maybe Love somewhere else , some other way than this way might make me feel happier but I know your Love here, just this way
I know I want love with you . And I wouldn’t want to change it because if love chose to leave I don’t think I could breathe
ساکنان دریا بعد از مدتی صدای امواج دریا را نمی شنوند
چه تلخ است قصه ی عـــــــــــــادت
After a while, the residents of the sea do not hear the sound of the waves.
How bitter it is, the story of routine.
(via blackstarastronomy)
