protest funeral

Ask Democrats if Mitt Romney should continue fighting for what he believes in, and the resulting laughter could power a city for a month. Ask Republicans the same thing about Obama, and their dumbfounded looks could only be described as “otherworldly.” See, to the opposition, those people aren’t “fighting for what they believe in.” They are the personification of evil whose only goal is the total destruction of the morally sound.

From the other side, they’re not heroes – they’re zealots, because they refuse to compromise, and compromise is what allows humanity to function. And compromise starts from recognizing that the other guy has the same “True heroes never back down!” bullshit going through his head. Even the fucking Ku Klux Klan believe that what they’re doing is morally correct. So do people who bomb abortion clinics, or protest at military funerals, or scream “God hates fags!” under picket signs that look like they were written in blood and feces. Adolf Fucking Hitler fought to the death for what he believed in, and it redefined our perception of evil.

So if you want to “never stop fighting” for something, how about going on a lifelong crusade to make absolutely sure you’re not the Hitler in this situation?

5 Common Pieces of Advice That Are Almost Always Wrong


UK. Northern Ireland. Belfast. Shankill Road. 1971. A protestant funeral during the Troubles (1968-1998).

Also known internationally as the Northern Ireland conflict, it is sometimes described as a “guerrilla war” or “low-level war”. The conflict began in 1968 and is usually deemed to have ended with the Belfast “Good Friday” Agreement of 1998.

The conflict was primarily political, but it also had an ethnic or sectarian dimension, although it was not a religious conflict. A key issue was the constitutional status of Northern Ireland. Unionists/loyalists, who are mostly Protestants and consider themselves British, generally want Northern Ireland to remain within the United Kingdom. Irish nationalists/republicans, who are mostly Catholics and consider themselves Irish, generally want it to leave the United Kingdom and join a united Ireland. The conflict began amid a campaign to end discrimination against the Catholic/nationalist minority by the Protestant/unionist-dominated government and police force.

The main participants in the Troubles were republican paramilitaries such as several Irish Republican Army (IRA) groups (particularly the Provisional IRA) and Irish National Liberation Army (INLA); loyalist paramilitaries such as the Ulster Volunteer Force (UVF) and Ulster Defence Association (UDA); British state security forces – the British Army and Royal Ulster Constabulary (RUC); and political activists and politicians. More than 3,500 people were killed in the conflict, of whom 52% were civilians, 32% were members of the British security forces, and 16% were members of paramilitary groups. 

Photograph: Bruno Barbey/Magnum Photos

friendofthe-fugitive  asked:

@bee-nerdy, I think Onision, when referring to his distaste in Christianity, is referring to those whom practice Christianity more than the messages of the religion (which are usually, not always, warped to fit the person's personal agenda). For example, protesting at funerals for LGBT+ when the bible doesn't really say anything about homophobia and being gay was actually considered to be how people has fun before they got married. Scientology is bad as a religion, but the people who practice (1

2) can be much worse in retrospect. They are more known too, where as I haven’t heard of Scientology until…well, I found this page. The view on Scientology related to Juju seems to be a bit biased, however, seeing how the conversations stem from hate - but I’ve not gotten around to doing actual research on the religion myself so I can pick a side. Also I don’t think Onision is a valid source as he just likes to talk and is mostly about negativity and bullying the nature of his topics. 

Westboro Baptist Church Protests Against Funerals for Orlando Shooting Victims

The anti-gay church — known for protesting the funerals of U.S. service members and notable gay people — said in a statement posted on its website that “God sent the shooter.”

So meet angels guard against Westboro Baptist at funerals for Orlando shooting victims

Too much hate towards gay community! These people died a tragic death. 

So I don’t understand what they are trying to accomplish by picketing at a gay funeral? I can’t understand how this cult is still able to get away with what they do. This is America, we live in a free country (that’s what they tell us), but actually this is the greatest lie!

They kill people for their sexual orientation and then don’t let to bury them with respect.

This is actual anti-gay bigotry at its prime!

We must expunge the culture of hatred

There is a culture of hatred in our midst, targeting our LGBT community. It is not some remnant of a generation soon to pass, nor merely a product of the fringe. To some degree, it is born in the halls of our own offices of government offices, and lauded by some of our own so-called leaders.

Westboro Baptist Church “leaders” have announced that they are coming to our City Beautiful, Orlando, to “protest” at the funerals of our friends and neighbors whom we lost in the terror attack/hate crime on our LGBT community at Pulse. But even their demented cries of “God hates f****” won’t be as loud as the deafening silence against such hatred exhibited by so many elected officials, and even worse, that barely-audible sound of pen on paper signing hatred into law.

Florida Governor Rick Scott, Attorney General Pam Bondi and Senator Marco Rubio have spoken out against mass murder perpetrated on the LGBT community this weekend, though often conveniently excluding the LGBT detail. But they have launched legal attacks themselves against this community for years now. They have not apologized, and they have not committed to do better. They have cried crocodile tears for the cameras. That’s all.

A few months ago, Rick Scott removed protection from discrimination for LGBT foster youth in Florida. Pam Bondi wasted $500,000 of our tax dollars fighting tooth and nail to stop marriage equality from coming to Florida – all the way to the Supreme Court. Marco Rubio dismissed same-sex couples who wanted to start a family as a “social experiment,” and fought against their right to foster children in our state.

They have attempted to normalize, and even mandate, discrimination against the LGBT community. Now they ask how a gay nightclub could be under attack, how such a horrific hate crime could happen in our home state. They should be asking who created this culture of hatred, now that more than 100 innocent people, their friends, their families, and our entire community, must pay the hefty price.

I am heartbroken. But I am also furious – not only about what has happened on Sunday morning, but about what has happened continuously to an innocent, victimized group of decent people throughout the years. I am frustrated at a society that makes members of my own staff nervous to hold their same-sex partners’ hands in public, for fear they could be shamed, hurt, or even killed. (None of them will ever be able to forget that the killer’s father suggested that the killer’s action was triggered by seeing two men showing affection in a public place.) I am frustrated at right-wing media who ask questions like “was it a terrorist attack OR a hate crime?” or “why hasn’t the President launched [yet another] attack against ISIS?” rather than reporting on the hatred and discrimination against gays and lesbians that still thrives.

Young or old, male or female, black or white, English-speaking or Spanish-speaking, gay or straight, WE ARE ALL HUMAN BEINGS. Whatever your religion, whatever your age, we have to put hatred and discrimination in the rear-view mirror. It has no more place in the 21st century than slavery, or cannibalism. It’s the year 2016. Enough, already.

Today, I ask everyone to acknowledge that this wasn’t just an attack on my home, on our beautiful city of Orlando. This was an attack on our LGBT community. Forty-nine people were murdered for no reason other than their sexual orientation. The fundamental benefit of every civilized society is a sense of personal safety. Our LGBT friends deserve that as much as anyone else. We must organize against hatred and defeat it – and anyone who would perpetuate it.

NO H8.


Rep. Alan Grayson (D-Orlando)

Angels Quietly Block Westboro Protesters at Orlando Funeral

Counter-demonstrators dressed as angels shield mourners from anti-gay protesters near the funeral service Saturday outside Cathedral Church of St. Luke in Orlando, Florida, for Christopher Andrew Leinonen, one of the victims of the Pulse nightclub shootings. (John Raoux / AP)

Straight people only care about the Westboro Baptist church bc they protest straight soldiers funerals like they wouldn’t care if they only protested lgbt activists funerals

of Bloggers & Birth Control

I’m about to risk eliminating half of my audience.

Around the world, men fall to their knees and groan in despair. Conservative mothers rip the computers out of children’s rooms and threaten to protest my funeral.

I can’t even believe I’m writing about this.

Perhaps that means I should.

The last time I saw a doctor was four months after my 12th birthday. It was a routine doctor’s appointment in which Nostradamus told me: “It won’t be long till puberty comes knocking on your door, little lady!”

I became a woman literally two hours later.

Dishonor on him. Dishonor on his family. Dishonor on his cow.

Puberty and I had a pretty uneventful relationship for the past decade. Occasional ice cream dates, late night visits, tears over Hallmark commercials. I guess you say for the most part, minus fluctuating weight loss/gain, I’ve lived a pretty dang healthy life.

Until a few months ago.

You know when something doesn’t feel right. Better said, you know when your body isn’t operating correctly.

I assumed I was dying. WebMD confirmed my suspicions. I quietly and carefully began to delegate treasured earthly possessions to those in my life whom I deemed worthy in my last will and testament. 

(He/she who inherits this computer may find said will under file name ‘Jellyfish Soup.’)

After several months of unusual behavior, I did what any self-respecting 23-year-old woman would do: I called my mommy.

“You should probably go see a gynecologist.”

I shuddered.

This wasn’t just a doctor–this was a FEMALE doctor.

I HATE going to doctors. Which explains why I haven’t been to one in the last twelve years. (Don’t even ask how long it’s been since I’ve seen a dentist…)

The morning of the appointment, I braced for impact.

Surely it’s cancer. Surely it’s spreading rapdily throughout my body. Surely my dreams are dashed. Surely I should think about my Make A Wish. Surely I’m going to die. Surely I’m not overreacting. Surely.

I get to the office early, knowing I will have six days worth of first time visitor paperwork to fill out.

Answer Each Question Honestly, it says.

“Have you ever received a tetanus shot?”

“Have you ever been abused emotionally, sexually, physically, etc?”

“How old were you when you first had sex?”

“How many sex partners have you had?”
I can’t get a guy to hold a door open for me. So…

“Have you ever been pregnant?”
Are we talking immaculate conception?

“Are you on any prescription or illegal drugs?”

“Do you drink regularly?”
My drugs, yes.

“Do you wear a seat belt?”
So am I dying or nahhh?

“Do you wear sunscreen?”
Only when I don’t want melanoma.

“Do you have any allergies?”

I finish. I wait. The sweet southern nurse calls me back. She’s basically Paula Deen. Paula gets my measurements. She pricks my finger and draws some blood. She asks me about my concerns, then steps out. The Doctor walks in. She’s an older woman. She looks like the kind of lady who would be really confused in a hipster cafe and try to order ‘plain coffee.’

We talk for a bit. She takes a deep breath.

“I’m gonna go ahead and prescribe you some birth control, Sarah.”


“I think it will help clear up the issues you’ve been describing,” she explains, “it’s perfectly normal for girls who aren’t sexually active to take it. Plus, it will clear up your skin.”

Thanks for reminding me I have acne AND nobody who loves me.

She starts the full body exam. She checks me for any sign of unusual bumps, bruises or freckles and finds none. I breathe a sigh of relief.

I’m not dying.

I’m just going on birth control.


I suddenly feel every eye in the Wal-Mart pharmacy piercing the back of my head.

‘They know why I’m here,’ I tell myself, ‘they MUST.’

As I wait at the counter for the prescription to be filled, I fully expect someone who knows me to walk up. My Pastor. My Sunday School teacher. Someone who read my blog on staying pure and WHOA LOOKIE WHAT WE HAVE HERE.

I make eye contact with the elderly lady buying a box of Ensure. I squnt, she smiles. Cheeky.

My subconscious goes all East L.A.

'You think you know me, you think you know my life, you think you know my story…’

“Sarah?” the pharmacist asks as I offer my last name.


He hands me the bag. I take the long, $4 walk of shame back to my car.

I get home, pour a glass of water, say a prayer and pop the first pill.

No turning back.

I tend to be someone who doesn’t run to a bottle of pills at the slightest inkling of a fever. Going without medical insurance most of my childhood, whenever I got sick, I was forced to learn how to suck it up and go on with life. 


So here’s what’s scary: It’s working.

All those issues I was dealing with? Gone. (You’re welcome for the sparse details.)

And heck, my skin DOES look a little bit clearer. (Suck it, Proactive.)

Yet, there was still this small part of me that felt ashamed, maybe even a tad embarrassed at the means to the end. 

‘I can’t tell people about this.’

…so I’m telling you about this. 

I fall under the category of a purity blogger. No shame. Full ownership.

It’s not like it’s something I set out to do. I didn’t wake up one morning and think, “Man, I wanna talk about sex for the rest of my life.”

I write about what I’m passionate about.

Some days, that’s life. Some days, that’s food. Some days, that’s coffee and Switchfoot lyrics.

And some days, it’s relationships and romance and marriage, and my desperate attempt to try and understand the greatest picture of the kingdom any one man and woman could possibly grasp this side of heaven.

Purity bloggers talk about purity.

Purity bloggers don’t talk about being on birth control. 

Call it intimidation, but I tend to base a lot of what I should or shouldn’t talk about based on what other bloggers are or aren’t talking about. What’s taboo, what’s not, or if what I have to say is even worth saying because it has already been said 1,000 times before me.

I want so badly to talk about the mess I am and share what I’m learning about Jesus along the journey, while the other side of me wants so badly to sit at the cool kids table with all the other bloggers who have their stuff put together.

So I follow the list of “do this, not that” blogger rules that morph my voice into an echo of religion.

All the while, God is looking for voices who are willing to be honest.

Grace allows us to be honest.

I never understood that. Not for the longest time.

But, I think I’m learning what the value of grace is.

It’s not some spiritual get out of jail free card or a coupon to partake in selfish habits. It’s the gift that tells us that we can have something more, something better than the self-destruction we’ve known.

When it comes down to it, relationship with Jesus isn’t so much idealistic religion or a set list of rules.

For me, doing things like not partying or waiting to have sex till I’m married or choosing to opt out of certain pop culture phenomenons isn’t because I want to be a good, little Christian. I mean, the point of His death was because NONE of us can or ever will be good enough. It’s because at the end of the day, following Christ means believing that I might actually be worth more than my sinful nature says I am.

It takes bravery to seek life more abundantly, because that kind of life forces us to see ourselves as loved as God says we are. Recklessly, all-consumingly, passionatly loved. Most days, I set out to understand it and end up drowning instead.

I’m trying so hard not to get caught up in dying to self that I forget that the motive of it is to live.

But what do I know.

I’m a purity blogger on birth control.
The Foo Fighters Trolled Westboro Baptist Protesters With A Rick Roll
Don't mess with the Foo.
By David Mack

You’re probably aware of a little group called the Westboro Baptist Church.

The extremist, right-wing group of Christians travel across the country protesting soldiers’ funerals and other high-profile events to rail against what they say is the moral decline of American civilization.

You’re also probably aware of Dave Grohl and the Foo Fighters, a group of badass rockers who don’t suffer fools kindly.

When the Westboro protesters decided to picket the band’s concert on Friday night, the Foo Fighters deployed the internet’s most powerful weapon: the Rick Roll!

The WB protesters had gathered with their usual collection of hateful signs outside the Sprint Center in Kansas City, Missouri, when Dave and the other Foo Fighters came (Rick) rolling in on the back of a pickup.

They held up signs saying “You got Rick Roll’d (again)” and “Keep It Clean.”

The cheers from the crowd of jostling fans soon drowned out the hateful protest and the band continued on their merry way.

Nice trolling, boys.