Jewish Artifacts Found At An Excavation Site In Tayma, Saudi Arabia. Tayma Was A Jewish Oasis During

MY violence will stop the cycle of violence

Feels so surreal that it’s October again. Last October was simultaneously just yesterday and several lifetimes ago. October used to be my favorite month, but now I’m starting to believe that it will never stop being October, and it fills me with a gnawing sense of dread.

Aurora (Arshaluys) Mardiganyan was just 14 when the sky collapsed on her head. In 1915, as the Armenian Genocide began, her village was torn apart by turkish soldiers. She watched as her father, her brothers and all the men in her family were dragged away and murdered. The women and children, including Aurora, were spared only to be marched into the desert—a death sentence of a different kind.

The march was relentless. Day after day, Aurora trudged through the searing heat, surrounded by the dying and the dead. There was no food, no water—just the constant, gnawing hunger, thirst and sexual mutilation. Those who fell behind were shot or left to die under the unrelenting sun. Aurora witnessed countless mothers cradling their dying children, their bodies wasting away before her eyes. The air was thick with the stench of death, and the ground was littered with the bodies of her people, unburied, forgotten.

According to her story, the turkish soldiers decided to nail the 17 girls of her village in the group to crosses—in a grotesque parody of their Christian faith, but they miscounted and only constructed 16 crosses; Aurora was the lucky one who was not crucified.

She endured much, being sold into a harem as a teen, for 85 cents. She was beaten, assaulted and dehumanized in ways no child should ever endure. Aurora’s spirit was broken over and over again, yet somehow, she survived.

When she finally escaped, Aurora found her way to the United States, carrying the weight of what she had witnessed. She was alone, orphaned by genocide, but she was determined to tell the world what had happened. Her story, Ravished Armenia, recounted the horrors in graphic detail—images too painful for most to even imagine. But for Aurora, they were not just stories; they were the memories that haunted her every day.

She agreed to relive her trauma once more, acting in the film Auction of Souls, where she portrayed her own suffering and the atrocities she had witnessed. But even then, Aurora was exploited. The people behind the film saw her pain as a commodity, and she was never properly compensated. She gave everything—her story, her dignity, her voice—but received little in return.

In the early 1930s, both the book and the film faded from the public’s attention. The sudden and complete silencing of the film had two explanations: the growing U.S.-turkey alliances, and an agreement between Hollywood and Germany. Aurora had written about being raped by a roving gang of german soldiers in turkey before being sold into a harem

The film that was supposed to tell her story was lost, leaving behind only fragments, just like the memory of the millions of Armenians who were massacred.

Here you can find Aurora Mardiganyan's book, "RAVISHED ARMENIA".

goyishe tumblr leftists seeing a quote from the torah: wow. i can’t believe they fucking mentioned israel. kind of problematic. fucking zionists.

Porto

you will not be surprised to learn that not only was the commercial spot in question not “about how we all need to stand with Israel”, but israel & palestine are not referenced or alluded to in any way whatsoever.

here’s the ad:

it’s not even an ad primarily about antisemitism. it’s a campaign called “Stand Up To All Hate” about standing up to racism, Islamophobia, homophobia, sexism, antisemitism, etc.—all hate, as the name suggests.

and, for a split second, there’s a kid wearing a kippah. that’s it. shaq appeared in an ad where a kid wears a kippah and that is what is getting him accused of “supporting genocide”

Young Jewish woman of Algiers | 'Demoiselle juive d'Alger,' 1842

"She wears a blue and gold djubba over a blue ghlila the short sleeves of which are tied behind her back. On her head is a mharma."

Adieu Alain Delon (1935-2024) 💔

Alain in Le Samouraï (1967).

What irks me so so much about the Pro Palestine movement and how it took place on my college campus was just how it... fizzled out.

In fall 2024, we've entered the new school year, and knock-on-wood, harassing Jews is not the go-to activism now.

Which I am elated about- we no longer have to hide the locations of events so stringently or keep our heads down in classes, fearing someone will catch us and know. And demand for us to answer for our supposed crimes.

But what stands out to me is that this activism only came from a place of anger they wanted to let out like a rabid animal. Teenagers and twenty-somethings wearing keffiyehs they bought from Amazon screamed about the evils of Zionism. They rattled their signs and beat their drums. They vandalized and attacked. There was nothing held back.

And you know what I never saw? I never saw a bake sale, or any sort of fundraising for Gazans. I never saw food drives for local refugees. There was nothing tangible. There was only a vehement rage for a cause they didn't seem to really care about.

Because they didn't care about the people suffering and dying- they just wanted an excuse to be angry at someone and that "someone" was Jews.

But they got their encampments with machine gun doodles and "glory to the resistance" on their posters. They got their yelling out and their pretty pictures they'll save for their children one day- "Look, Mommy was an activist!"

But you know what sustained me, just a bit? I tried to believe that my peers were in the end well intentioned. That they didn't mean to hurt us. That this was all an awful trick being played and that their goal at the end of the day was a more equal world and end to tangible suffering.

But now- their keffiyehs are abandoned and only taken out for a little progressive fashion statement, paired with pink go-go boots. They are so painfully apathetic, it hurts me.

And I think- I really think- the next time they'll pick up their picket signs again is when Jews get hurt, either in Israel or the diaspora. And they'll line up once more to cheer for it.

Portrait of Mary Victoria Leiter, the later Lady Curzon of Kedleston, Vicereine of India, 1887

Alexandre Cabanel