news feed history of the world

Sorry for the lack of posts over the last few months! I always fall off the studyblr scene over the holidays, no matter how hard I try to keep active! But the good news is that I started my second year of university last week, and I’ve started a studygram to keep me motivated! So feel free to check out studiousminds_ for some study inspo on your insta feed!

Look at this photo for a minute.

Set aside your political leaning or any complaint you have about the choices that various governments in Canada have made lately, and just look at this photo. It’s nearly impossible to imagine it being taken in any other country. Really look at it, because it was iconic the moment it was shot.

It shouldn’t be a surprise that Canada’s current prime minister would make an appearance in Toronto at one of the largest gay pride parades in the world - maybe he could have dressed in a natty suit and his signature tan lace-ups, and waved to the crowd while waving the flag. That alone would have been enough to make history, to feed the news cycle and to build the Justin™ brand. Maybe even snag another GQ cover.

But, no. Appreciate what is happening in this photo. This G7 leader decided to bare his hairless chest in a salmon-pink shirt, and slip into curvy white jeans (there isn’t a straight guy alive that can pull off white jeans without irony - don’t even bother disagreeing with me), and shake his baby-maker under a high, July sun while being hosed down by a hundred water pistols wielded by all manner of race and colour along the straight, L, G, B, T, and Q spectrum. And in this picture, you can just make out the guy in the hat to the right of Trudeau’s jubilant armpit. He’s a recent émigré to Canada. A 5-foot-1, gay, HIV-positive Syrian refugee, which, if you look it up, is the definition of completely fucked back in his devastated homeland. And yet, there he is, marching and dancing next to the leader of his newly-adopted country, agog in the middle of Yonge Street.

Some might say that this is simply a picture of liberalism gone wild, or of biblical deviance, or of political opportunism. Go ahead – knock yourself out. Or, you would be partially correct to see this as a photo of a minority group celebrating a wider acceptance of its claim to humanity. It is that, and a great deal more. To look at this photo and not grasp its significance is to not only succumb to shallow, jaded and isolated thinking, but also to take for granted a level of freedom that is absurdly great in comparison to the utter bleakness in other corners of the world right now. This is a photo that says, “You have the freedom to not only feel love here, but to demonstrate it, celebrate it, sing it and shine it. Don’t squander it.”

Theo Ward, July 5, 2016



Writing tips #2
  • Take a moment before each writing session, feel your universe. Become your main character(s). Taste the fruit you have described, feel the breeze in their air. Don’t just get into their shoes. Lace those bad boys up, and start doing their everyday life. Have no mercy; tell us what you feel. 
  • Let me guess, you’re midway through the depth of night. Your creative juices are surging out at the screen (or paper.) You’re in the zone, but your eyes just can’t stay open. They’re dry and weary. Don’t worry. Do this exercise. 
    • Blink a twice for every second. 
    • Have a glass or two of water. 
    • Shut your eyes for about 10-30 seconds. 
    • Put in eye drops. (Woah, you’re hardcore. You write that novel!)
  • I find that I never write dialogue when I’m writing a piece of work. I feel if I force a character to say something, I have to erase it and let it come. We aren’t writers, we are channels to the worlds we’ve created. I’m not thinking these conversations, they’re happening, they’re breathing; they’re real.  
  • “Have the courage to write badly.” I think this only scratches the surface. Don’t just write badly. Write reckless, full of emotion, stuttering over your own words on the page. Every great chapter I’ve ever written in my LIFE is never clean to start out with. I heavily edit it, vigorously, but there is something so primal about the scenes. I only clean it up enough for other people to see. I know I captured emotions that I can never channel again. That’s what writing is, it’s creating history for worlds that didn’t exist until our fingers typed it in.

I hope you guys are enjoying these writing tips tid bits. I truly love making them, I know what it means to be stuck and aimlessly scrolling through your news feed on all social media platforms. Every writer has an issue with writing; trust me. 
Much love guys, Peace Soup. 

This morning I slept through my alarm so when I finally got up I was already late. I raced around waking up my three children and my husband and chaos ensued as we all tried to get ourselves up and out the door for our typical Monday routines. I usually check my social media news feeds early in the morning but today I didn’t have the time. It was my 14-year-old son who saw the news about last night’s massacre in Las Vegas first. He is already an anxious child and worries about all the terror attacks going on in the world so I stopped what I was doing and checked the news sites. 

As of now, 58 people have died and more than 500 have been injured. The numbers are staggering and this is being called the worst mass shooting in modern US history. We don’t live in the US but as their neighbour to the North, and frequent visitors to the US, it hits close to home. In fact, I’m scheduled to fly to Vegas next week to meet a friend for a girl’s weekend. At this point we still intend to go but our excitement has absolutely been tempered with last night’s horrific attack. Those 58 people were someone’s father, mother, daughter, sister, friend. Their families are reeling right now and trying to make sense of why this happened. 

I too am finding it increasingly difficult to stay positive in the face of so much death and violence happening around the world. In the summer my husband and I took our children to Europe - it was their first time. He and I were last in Paris seven years ago. We were quite saddened by how much the recent terror attacks there have affected the city of light. There is a noticeably heightened police presence everywhere you go - heavily armed police roam the streets now. Security is tight, especially at the tourist hot spots, and you can’t go anywhere, not even into a shop on the Champs-Elysee without a bag check. It’s an unfortunate but inescapable consequence of the times we’re living in. 

So how do I talk to my children about all this? Up until recently through every horrific event I’ve reiterated that we can’t let the terrorists win, that we have to soldier on. I keep saying we are letting them win if we stop traveling, stop attending concerts and stop living our lives. But honestly I’m worried about where the world is going. I’m heart broken today because it feels like it’s an onslaught. It’s too damn much. It breeds a culture of anger, sorrow and mistrust and it’s getting harder to recover from these shocking events. 

I am only one person, what difference can I make? I can start by teaching my children to be kind and to spread kindness. I can talk to them about giving back; volunteering and doing their part in the community. I can spread love and not hate. I can be more tolerant, more patient. I can do my part to stop the cycle of hate. It’s what we all need to do now. 

The Other Carter - Part 13

Originally posted by nerdyboutnerdythings

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Carter!Reader
Warnings: None except CA:WS spoilers & mentions of death.
Summary: You’ve heard of Peggy Carter? Well this is the story of her sister Y/N Carter, and the love between her and Bucky.         
A/N: Part ­­13! Please give me feedback as this is the first series I have ever done. Love you all! I hope you like it! Message me if you want to get tagged!
Word Count: 1400+

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 |Part 11| Part 12


Bucky’s POV

Steve pulled up in front of some old gates. There was and old, rusted ‘Stop’ sign hanging from the front. We got out of the car and Natasha was using a GPS tracker to scout the area.
“This is it.” Steve announced.

“The file came from these coordinates.” Natasha stated walking up towards the gate.

“So did I.” Steve muttered. “I knew this place sounded familiar…” I whispered.

“This camp is where I was trained.” Steve told Natasha. “Change much?” She asked.

“A little…” Steve was marvelling the area. I looked over to Steve smiling at him, in which he returned.

“This is a dead end. Zero heat signatures, zero waves, not even radio. Whoever wrote the file must have used a router to throw people off.” Natasha said. I sighed in defeat. Steve looked over towards a bunker with a determined glance. “What is it?” I asked him. He started to walk towards the bunker, Natasha and I followed.

“Army regulations forbid storing munitions within 500 yards of the barracks. This building is in the wrong place.” Steve explained. We reached a big metal door, which was locked using an old padlock. Steve easily broke the lock, slicing it with his shield. We descended down some old stairs which lead us into a dark room. I could see outlined chairs and tables, almost like an office. Natasha flicked the lights on revealing that this was, in fact, an office. What caught my eye however was the eagle logo printed on the back wall.

“This is S.H.I.E.L.D.” I stated, walking down the aisle towards the sign.

“Maybe where it started.” Steve said.

We walked into a room filled with file cabinets. On the far wall was three photos. Colonel Phillips, Howard Stark and Peggy Carter. Our old friends two of which had been long dead. “And there’s Stark’s father.” Natasha said staring at Howard’s photograph, “Howard.” I confirmed. “Who’s the girl?” Natasha asked Steve. He just stared at the picture of Peggy for longer, but never answered the question. Natasha looked at me for confirmation and I just nodded. Telling her to not worry about it.

We continued walking down the empty filing cabinets. It seemed this place was abandoned years ago. I stepped onto something and heard a crack. Steve and Natasha turned to look at me, seeing what made the sudden noise. I looked down and saw I stood on a photo frame. I carefully picked up the photo carefully and observed it. It was a photo of Peggy and Y/N, presumably at a farm house. Peggy was on Y/N’s back. They were both laughing. A drop of water splashed against the broken glass, I realised I was crying slightly. Steve walked over to me and took the photo away, I looked at him with a crestfallen face. He took the photo out of the frame, folded it and handed it over to me. “Peggy would’ve wanted you to have it…” I nodded and folded the photo and placed it in my pocket. “Let’s go.” Steve nodded and continued on.

“Can I see the photo Buck?” Natasha asked me when I caught up with her. I nodded and handed her the folded up photo. She looked at it smiling. “She was gorgeous Bucky, you are one lucky guy.”

“You mean I was?” I chuckled dryly. “You’re right I was…”

“If you’re already working in a secret office, why do you need to hide the elevator?” Steve cut off our conversation. I folded the photo back together and placed it in my trouser pocket. And when to investigate the newly found opening, curtesy of Steve. He was right, there is an elevator. Natasha scanned the key pad with her scanner thingy. She presumably got the code and typed it into the door. Luckily it worked and the door opened. We stood inside the elevator and descended upwards. Once the elevator stopped, we were greeted by a room full of technology. The room was dark, and admittedly quite intimidating. The lights suddenly flickered on. Natasha was looking around the room, taking in all of the computer systems.

“This can’t be the data point. This technology is ancient.” Natasha shook her head in disbelief. That was until she saw a USB hard drive on the desk. She walked over to it sceptically and inserted the flash drive. All of the room lit up, computers were starting up and the machines were programing. The computer before us lit up. Asking us a question, initiate system? Natasha walked over to it.

“Y-E-S spells yes.” The computer powered up. Natasha looked at it in amusement. “Shall we play a game?” She asked smugly. She turned around to Steve and I, “It’s from a movie that was really…-“ “-We know, we saw it.” I dismissed. The computer started bleeping. A green silhouette appeared, and a face of a man was resembled.

“Rogers, Steven, born 1918. Romanoff, Natalia Alianovna, born 1984. Barnes, James Buchanan, born 1917.” The green face stated in a German accent.

“It’s some kind of recording.” Natasha said.

“I am not a recording, Fraulein. I may not be the man I was when the Captain and Sergeant took me prisoner in 1945. But I am.” I stiffened as the photo of Dr Zola appeared on screen. He was the man who killed Y/N. I thought he was long dead…

“You two know this thing?” Natasha questioned noticing our stiffened postures.

“Arnim Zola was a German scientist who worked for the Red Skull. He’s been dead for years.” I said walking around the table.

“First correction, I am Swiss. Second, look around you. I have never been more alive. In 1972, I received a terminal diagnosis. Science could not save my body. My mind, however, that was worth saving, on 200,000 feet of databanks. You are standing in my brain.” Dr Zola stated.

“How did you get here?” Steve asked.

“Invited.” Replied the computer.

“It was Operation Paperclip after World War II. S.H.I.E.L.D. recruited German scientists with strategic value.” Natasha recited.

“They thought I could help their cause. I also helped my own.”

“HYDRA died With the Red Skull.” Steve defended.

“Cut off one head, two more shall take its place.” A shiver went down my spine. “Prove it.” I stated boldly. The computer screen showed us many pictures, including many articles.

“Accessing archive. HYDRA was founded on the belief that humanity could not be trusted with its own freedom. What we did not realize was that if you try to take that freedom, they resist. The war taught us much. Humanity needed to surrender its freedom willingly. After the war, S.H.I.E.L.D. was founded, and I was recruited. The new HYDRA grew. A beautiful parasite inside S.H.I.E.L.D. For 70 years, HYDRA has been secretly feeding crisis, reaping war, and when history did not cooperate, history was changed.” The computer showed us photos of the Winter Soldier.

“That’s impossible. S.H.I.E.L.D. would have stopped you.” Natasha said shakily.

“Accidents will happen.” The computer showed us news articles of Stark’s car accident. It wasn’t an accident.

“HYDRA created a world so chaotic that humanity is finally ready to sacrifice its freedom to gain its security. Once a purification process is complete, HYDRA’S new world order will arise. We won, Captain. Your death amounts to the same as your life. A zero sum.” I got so angry that I punched the computer screen with my metal fist. There was a brief moment of silence until:

“As I was saying…” I groaned. His green face appeared onto the other monitor.

“What’s on this drive?” Steve demanded.

“Project Insight requires insight. So, I wrote an algorithm.”

“What kind of algorithm? What does it do?” Natasha asked hurryingly.

“The answer to your question is fascinating. Unfortunately, you shall be too dead to hear it.” We heard a clan and the doors started to close quickly. Steve launched his shield at the doors, in attempt to keep them open. I heard a phone beeping and I whipped around to look at Natasha.

“Steve, Bucky, we got a bogey. Short range ballistic - 30 seconds tops.”

“Who fired it?” I questioned.

“S.H.E.I.L.D.” Natasha said shaking slightly.

“I am afraid I have been stalling, Captain. Admit it. It’s better this way. We are, both of us, out of time.” Steve ripped out a vent and we all clambered in. He covered both Natasha and I with the shield. And then…


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This video explains what every American needs to know about Israel, Palestine and the Middle East

There is a lot of chatter from both the left and the right about Israel and Palestine.  You might hear it from the news media, from your Facebook feed, or from angry protesters in the streets.  With rockets falling on schools, suicide bombings, and people fighting for their very lives, the decades old conflict between Israel and Palestine often gets heralded as one of the most complex problems in the world today. Maybe so.

But there are some crucial facts of history that must not be ignored, and in the light of historical context, the entire conflict suddenly focuses into perspective. 

Here’s the video:

I think this video serves as a perfect starting point for a better conversation about Israel.  It doesn’t feature people yelling at each other.  It doesn’t flash photos of crying women and children at you in order to sway your emotions.  It is a call for a more honest and reasoned debate on the problems in the Middle East. 

Feel free to share this post with your friends on Facebook. It’s time we started taking a more honest look at Israel, Palestine, and the conflict in Gaza.



I never post stuff unrelated to my art, but this is a really serious issue for me and the Korean citizens. There was a protest today in downtown Seoul which was brutally suppressed by the police. The above video shows South Korean police shooting water cannon and tear gas at a 69-year-old man who has already fallen down. Contrary to the South Korean police’s argument, the protest was previously announced and approved of. This was not an illegal occupation nor were there any violence involved. What was supposed to be a peaceful march turned into mayhem. The participants were protesting President Park’s recent policies one of which was the adoption of state-produced history textbooks. Other policies included allowing businesses to lay off employees more easily for the sake of “flexible labor market.” Korean Twitter is flooding with live feeds of the violent suppression of the protest in Gwanghwamun. None of the major South Korean press has covered this so far. 

BBC offers small coverage:

NYT offers some more details, but I don’t like how it mentions 2008 protests against the FTA and “mad cow disease.” It makes it sound like the citizens are “overreacting” to the government policies. The history textbook issue is a threat against sound democracy and the new labor law threatens many workers’ livelihood. And even if the citizens’ demands had little rational grounds, the police has no right to use violence or to deter their march.

Mind that the police aren’t “spraying water” over these people. They’re using water cannons that can deal a serious damage and high-concentrate tear gas. Water cannons should not even be shot directly at people. 

I take classes right near Gwanghwamun in Jonggak area and I’ve seen posters for this demonstration before. It was clearly announced and approved by the city. It is a shame that things like these are happening in a supposedly democratic country. The police violence and suppression have been escalating since Park took office. South Korean government should be ashamed.