JOHNSTONE

Nobody say "Fuck Israel, Free Palestine." Saying "Fuck Israel, Free Palestine" is very offensive to people who think genocide is good. When you say "Fuck Israel, Free Palestine," you are hurting the feelings of the people who believe it's fine to bomb every hospital in Gaza. So you must never, ever say "Fuck Israel, Free Palestine." Reading by Tim Foley.

The Irish-language hip hop trio Kneecap is being investigated by British counterterrorism police following a controversial appearance where the group performed in front of the words "FUCK ISRAEL, FREE PALESTINE" during a music festival in the United States. Reading by Tim Foley.

We can’t keep living like this. We’ve got to wake up. We’ve got to become better. We’re never going to make it if we don’t awaken to the reality of our circumstances, both as individuals and as a collective. Reading by Tim Foley.

It's not okay to claim ignorance or uncertainty about what's happening in Gaza in 2025. You're an adult. You have internet access. If you don't know, learn. You can't just go "it too compwicated, me no understandy, googoo gaga." It's not cute and it's not okay. Reading by Tim Foley.

If you believe that all the violence and destruction in Gaza is the fault of Hamas, then by your own logic you must also accept that the coming wave of violent extremism and antisemitism which is going to ensue from the incineration of Gaza will exclusively be the fault of Israel. I said this on Twitter the other day and Israel supporters got outraged and shared screenshots of my post shrieking with indignation that anyone would say such a thing, which is funny because I’m just reading their own line of reasoning back to them. I’m not the one who says an act of violence excuses any violence done in response to it. I’m not the one who says history automatically restarts at the most recent act of aggression, thereby making any amount of retaliatory violence against civilians a justified response to an unprovoked attack for which the vengeful bear no responsibility. This isn’t my position. It’s theirs. Reading by Tim Foley.

Pope Francis has died after using his Easter Sunday address to call for peace in Gaza. I don't know who the cardinals will pick to replace him, but I do know with absolute certainty that there are some major transnational intelligence operations in the works to make sure they select a more reliable supporter of Israel. They've probably been working on it since his health started failing. Reading by Tim Foley.

Israel views journalists as its enemy because Israel is the enemy of truth. Reading by Tim Foley.

The hypocrisy of Trumpists cheerleading the president's assaults on free speech makes it clear that they have no idea why free speech ever came to be valued in our society in the first place. Reading by Tim Foley.

The US massacred civilians in Yemen with repeated strikes on a Hodeidah fuel port on Wednesday night, killing some 17 workers in the first bombing and five medical workers in the second "double tap" attack. Reading by Tim Foley.

They are sending billionaires and pop stars into space while the planet burns and Americans ration their insulin. There are companies marketing AI lovers to lonely people and harvesting their data. Last night Israel bombed a tent camp in Gaza, and women and children burned alive. This is a strange, dark place. Strange, dark times in a strange, dark world. Light a candle for those who have died. Light a candle for those who are dead inside. Light a candle for those with algorithms in their eyes. Light a candle for those with AI in their souls. Light a candle for the screaming red children. Light a candle for the silent gray children. Light a candle for the Great Pacific Garbage Patch. Light a candle for the songs of the whales. Light a candle for the hearts like cast lead. Light a candle for the hearts like wallaby roadkill. Light a candle for the hearts like incense cathedrals. Light a candle for the hearts like wet skies. Light a candle for the eggs in our chests. Light a candle for the seeds in our heads. Light a candle for the mushroom cloud on the horizon. Light a candle for the sleeping Buddhas. I stand slack-jawed and dry-mouthed at a world I do not understand, hurtling toward a future I do not recognize. Firelight dances on my wall from the candles, or maybe from Gaza, or maybe from the biosphere, or maybe from just beneath my skin. Reading by Tim Foley.