– Pedro Krüger Garcia

In the 2000s, phones had quirks and class....

Peter Parker, a.k.a. the most polite Avenger.

WICKED CITY / 妖獣都市 1987, dir. Yoshiaki Kawajiri

Eric Lacombe’s “The Weight of Silence” at Last Rites Gallery.

Currently on view at Last Rites Gallery in New York City, New York is the solo exhibition of new paintings by artist Eric Lacombe entitled “The Weight of Silence.”

A master of the absolutely nightmarish, Lacombe has dedicated “The Weight of Silence” to the moments right before death and the anticipation of what may come.  As Lacombe says, “imagine the very moment before death when life slips away and something new begins: this moment is truly precious, because everything is silent. I want to evoke that stillness, that loneliness, that sensation of fear, melancholy and happiness.”

“The Weight of Silence” is on display until April 15th, 2016.

@swsource star wars week DAY 3 – I'll Try Spin-Offs!: IMDB Top-Rated Episode of The Clone Wars (2008-2020)

assembling their philosophies

from pieces of broken memories

I feel exhausted when it comes to many human beings as of late.

Today while I was on public transit, the usual happened- every seat on the train was taken and the seat beside me was the only one that was free, but no one chose to sit there, and instead everyone stood. Nothing out of the ordinary for a turbaned and bearded guy in North America.

However, one woman put the icing on the cake. She was having difficulty standing on the moving train, so I offered the seat beside me. She looked at me, shook her head, then looked the other way. Her friend also asked her to sit down, but she refused again. As they were leaving, he asked her why she wouldn’t sit down. Her answer: “I don’t feel safe sitting next to someone that looks like that.”

As the door closed behind them, I looked on- shocked at what I just heard. Other people had clearly heard what she said, but didn’t really react or say anything. I decided to get up and stand as I didn’t want to face the same BS again.

A Punjabi Uncle Ji had seen what had happened and he came over to talk to me. I thought he would say words of encouragement, but instead he told me that I should “change my look,” tie up my beard to make it look smaller, wear a shorter gatra so my kirpan isn’t seen, and tie a more “appropriate” turban (aka the patiala shahi, not my dumalla).

Angered, I left the car at the next station and boarded the next one. The Paris attacks may be over, but the attacks on brown bodies have just begun. In the UK, someone tried to push a hijabi woman onto the tracks of an incoming train. In Ontario, a woman was attacked in public, and a Hindu mandir was vandalized.

I am tired of microaggressions. I am tired of racism. I am tired of the fact that we try to hide the fact that racism is a HUGE issue in Canada. I am tired of people in our community that cannot stand for their own people. I am tired of respectability politics.

I refuse to watch brown people continue to be demeaned, harmed, hurt, and insulted in such a manner. I refuse to tolerate this BS where something like this happens and onlookers do nothing. I refuse to change who I am, leaving behind the practices and traditions of my people to make myself more palatable for racist and xenophobic bigots.

I refuse to be a pawn for your idiotic hate.

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