Does this remind anyone of the anti-Irish racism of the 'thick' Irishman jokes of the 1970s?
Are Irish people really not able to 'understand', while English people can?
💔💔URGENT – FOSTERS NEEDED IMMEDIATELY 💔💔
We are absolutely heartbroken 💔
In just ONE week, three dogs have come into our care after being cruelly neglected and abandoned.
This beautiful boy is one of them… and he is the SWEETEST soul ❤️
Despite everything he’s been through, all he wants is kindness and a safe place to rest.
We desperately need emergency foster homes NOW
Temporary foster needed
Must be able to keep him separate from other dogs (just for a short time)
He is gentle, loving, and so deserving of a second chance
💔 We are running out of options and time
Even a short-term foster could save him
Please SHARE this post, it could reach the person who saves him
We need humans willing to give him a safe space and some love
Let’s not let him down again 💔💔💔
Please text our dog manager Alex:
087 261 1463
Thank you ❤️❤️❤️
Hi guys. I’m looking for a bit of help. Unfortunately I lost my iPhone on Monday Night at Drumcondra Train Station. I think it was on the platform around 10:45pm, if anyone finds it I’d really appreciate if you get in touch. It’s in a blue case 😢 @IrishRail
#Jack's lovely owner thought when he went into hospital, he was going home to him eventually.But he has been told he has to go into a nursing home. Jack is home alone waiting for him. It was always the two of them. A neighbour is feeding him.Time is running out,pls share x
MISSING CHILD #DUBLIN💙
Eanna (15) left home in Crumlin/Kimmage this morning (Tues) to travel by 82 bus from the Ashleaf SC to School in the Wellington/Orwell/Spawell area of Templeogue D6W
She didn’t arrive in school and she hadn’t taken her phone or her ATM card
PLZ REPOST💙
Imagine her heartbreak. Imagine #Lenny looking for her, waiting for his best friend to come find him. Please keep an eye out. Could turn up in any town or city. Help bring #Lennyhome
Someone knows where #RupertandMouse is. Someone recognised the van that stole them. Their family is going through hell. Pls, let someone know. Contact here/a rescue anonymously if you don't want to deal with their family. Let them #gohome
Jessica Hauser, Alex Pretti’s final nursing student, posted this on Facebook:
“I was Alex Pretti’s final nursing student. He was my friend and my nursing mentor. For the past four months, I stood shoulder to shoulder with him during my capstone preceptorship at the Minneapolis VA Hospital. There he trained me to care for the sickest of the sick as an ICU nurse. He taught me how to care for arterial and central lines, the intricacies of managing multiple IVs filled with lifesaving solutions, and how to watch over every heartbeat, every breath, and every flicker of life, ready to act the moment they wavered. Techniques intended to heal.
Alex carried patience, compassion and calm as a steady light within him. Even at the very end, that light was there. I recognized his familiar stillness and signature calm composure shining through during those unbearable final moments captured on camera.
It does not surprise me that his final words were, “Are you okay?” Caring for people was at the core of who he was. He was incapable of causing harm. He lived a life of healing, and he lived it well.
Alex believed strongly in the Second Amendment and in the rights rooted in our Constitution and its amendments. He spoke out for justice and peace whenever he could, not only out of obligation, but out of a belief that we are more connected than divided, and that communication would bring us together.
I want his family to know his legacy lives on. I am a better nurse because of the wisdom and skills he instilled in me. I carry his light with me into every room, letting it guide and steady my hands as I heal and care for those in need.
Please honor my friend by standing up for peace, preferably with a cup of black coffee in hand and a couple of pieces of candy in your pocket, just as he would. He would remind you that caring for others is hard work, and we must do whatever it takes to get through the long shifts. Step outside with your dog, breathe in the world, hike or bike as he loved to do, and let yourself find peace in the quiet moments within nature. Stand up for justice and speak with those whose views differ from your own. Hold your beliefs with strength, but always extend love outward, even in the face of adversity.
Take one step, no matter how small, to help heal our world. Through these acts, carry his light forward in his name. Let his legacy continue to heal.”
The murders of unarmed civilians on the streets of Minneapolis, including the killing today of the intensive-care nurse Alex Jeffrey Pretti, would not come as a shock to Iraqis in Fallujah or Afghans in Helmand province. They were terrorized by heavily armed American execution squads for decades. It would not come as a shock to any of the students I teach in prison. Militarized police in poor urban neighborhoods kick down doors without warrants and kill with the same impunity and lack of accountability. What the rest of us are facing now, is what Aimé Césaire called imperial boomerang. Empires, when they decay, employ the savage forms of control on those they subjugate abroad, or those demonized by the wider society in the name of law and order, on the homeland. The tyranny Athens imposed on others, Thucydides noted, it finally, with the collapse of Athenian democracy, imposed on itself. But before we became the victims of state terror, we were accomplices. Before we expressed moral outrage at the indiscriminate taking of innocent lives, we tolerated, and often celebrated, the same Gestapo tactics, as long as they were directed at those who lived in the nations we occupied or poor people of color. We sowed the wind, now we will reap the whirlwind. The machinery of terror, perfected on those we abandoned and betrayed, including the Palestinians in Gaza, is ready for us.
Since early morning, my family and I have been living in a state of total psychological collapse.
Today we learned that our homes, our land, and our entire neighborhood, every house belonging to our family and our neighbors, have been completely erased. Bulldozed. Flattened into a barren stretch of yellow dust.
From the first light of day, we have been living the full meaning of defeat.
We have lost more than seventy members of our family. We have lost our land.
We now have no home to return to, no walls to protect us, no place left to call our own.
And then, one of Hamas’s leaders appears on television declaring that “the people have not been defeated,” that “Gaza has stood firm and fought a historic war.”
So let history record this:
I, Dr. Ezzideen Shehab, from Gaza, together with my family, my friends, and their families, did not fight any war.
We were the victims of an annihilation ignited by Hamas from within our homes, only for the Israeli army to descend upon us and unleash its full cruelty on the civilians of Gaza, while Hamas’s fighters vanished into their tunnels.
Let history record the truth: we were defeated, utterly, painfully, and completely defeated.
And it is we, the people of Gaza, who have the right to say whether we were defeated or not, not those who sit comfortably in Qatar or Turkey.
We were crushed, humiliated, and broken after our city was destroyed, occupied, and erased from existence.
We were displaced, stripped of everything we had built, left to wander through the ruins of our own lives.
And somewhere amid all this, I understood something simple and terrible:
My mother’s tears are holier than the homeland itself, and my father’s brokenness matters more to me than any flag.
Because what meaning does a homeland hold when it devours the ones you love, when it glorifies death but forgets the living?
We were not steadfast. We were held hostage in our own land.
We could not leave. We could not change those who claimed to rule us.
We were trapped between a merciless occupier and rulers who feed on our suffering.
And if there is one moment in my life when I must speak the truth, without fear, without hesitation, then this is that moment.
Let it be written clearly:
We were not soldiers in a war.
We were the bodies buried beneath it.
#GazaGenocide
Word of the day is ‘tamalou’: a French name for an older person who no longer greets their friends with ‘how was your holiday?, but with ‘t’as mal où ?’, ‘where does it hurt?’. There follows an enthusiastic account of aches and pains and doctor’s appointments.
I have lost my flute, either on a Dublin Bus or on an Irish Rail / Enterprise service from Belfast to Dublin earlier today.
I attach some images similar to my flute case.
My flute case has a gold Meitheal Irish Trad Music Summer School sticker on one side
NEW: Palestinian author Yousri Alghoul’s story from our Summer 2024 issue.
Yousri, like the story’s narrator, is living with his family in a refugee camp in Gaza. He’s currently seeking help to get his four children out of the country, away from the war.
https://t.co/TgBxSDmL0T
A million pleases for you to tag anyone you think can help or any journalist who might run a story to help this #HomeAlone sweet girl find a home for #Christmas