Thank you, I’ll consider it!

I could do that, and I may most likely will. I would be more enthusiastic about it however if I had actually personally encountered the issues as criticized.

The users I interact with are normal people, the political differences I encounter are usually about the sensibility or implementation of certain policies, not about whether a genocide is happening in Gaza (which I find is undisputed, just to make my position clear).

What I HAVE seen (in real life) is people being unsure about whether (or how) to speak out against the Israeli war machine because they are afraid of being branded racists, but that’s a German problem due to our history and people conflating anti-zionism with antisemitism, not one specific to the instance.

We had a fantastic time, thanks. It was small but it was good to see the neighborhood come together against the fascists.

This just makes me sad. So I now have to decide now - enjoy the fantastic comms on db0 or to have access to the biggest community of my region and language but not both?

I just wanted a nice, enjoyable thing to do and engage with after reddit, practice my French, have a laugh about some innocent memes, and have some interesting interactions with like-minded people, but now I’m marked as a Nazi and Zionist just because of the instance I chose to create an account on?

It honestly hurts to read all that vitriol. To be thrown into the same pot as people I despise the most. I just came back from a protest against the AfD a few weeks ago, for heaven’s sake, and now I’m considered a Nazi myself.

Maybe I need to disengage from Lemmy, too.

This mustn’t register on an emotional level.

I listen to Bach’s “Weihnachtsoratorium”/Christmas Oratorio (BWV 248) every year. I play it specifically on December 24th when my kids, my wife and I do the decorations. I don’t even like the Christmas Oratorio that much. But at least my wife knows why I excuse myself at times.

When I was little, on the evening of Dec 24th, we used do decorate the Christmas tree and my parents were adamant on playing the Christmas Oratorio at full volume when we did so. None of us are/were religious in any way, quite the contrary, but both of them were huge classical music fans. Especially my father used to be a massive Bach fanboy.

As a child who grew up learning to sing and to play several instruments, I hated this thing of theirs with a passion. I couldn’t stand this music genre. It was so far removed from what I liked and what life entailed for me; it was the sound of getting me the fuck away from home. I couldn’t deny it was a part of me, but it was a part that I despised.

Then, when I was in my early 20s, my Dad came down with aggressive cancer. After his last Christmas, we tried one last therapy which the doctors admitted was kind of experimental because the medication hadn’t been tried on patients with cancer of that type or that far advanced.

We don’t know what exactly happened. But this dear man, who had collected several dozen CDs of his favorite versions of Bach’s pieces, who had been searching and saving for rare editions just to get all the “right” recordings, he suddenly… didn’t understand his favorite music. And if you know baroque music - it takes some understanding to fully appreciate it.

He just didn’t get it anymore. Something in his brain got rewired during those last few months. “They’re playing it wrong!” he shouted angrily. It didn’t matter that this was the same CD he had listened to for ten years. My sister tried singing folk songs with him - which he used to enjoy - and while he himself sang pitch-perfect, he was perfectly sure that “nothing was right”. Have you ever seen a bed-ridden person go beserk? He winced when he turned, but he was infuriated. Eventually, we all gave up. There was no saving his love for music, it just… up and left him. One of the things which used to define him as a person was simply gone. All joy for any of it, evaporated, poof, without a trace. Cancer finally broke him, broke us. We buried him a few weeks later.

This one, minuscule, thing that he had saved to enjoy when he was old… he couldn’t. A part of what my father was, in the matter of a few days, just vanished. There was little left for and left of him. I can’t blame him for leaving before saying goodbye.

But I will never forgive the god I had never believed in for taking that last bit of joy away from a dying man.

Verily: “Jauchzet, frohlocket! Auf, preiset die Tage! Rühmet, was heute der Höchste getan!”

To note: I’m not who you responded to.

making separate laws for separate genders is not the solution

Absolutely it is. If there is a measurable inequality towards a minority, you should enshrine the protection of that minority into law - which is one reasons why many countries specify anti-discrimination laws. This law regards the same.

The problem here is completely different

Which you have failed to specify. So… the problem is what, exactly? I don’t see one.

and requires different solutions.

Which you also failed to provide.

I’m getting a strong “but won’t anyone think of the men!” vibe from you.

🎼 “debugged the stack in anger” I heard you say… 🎶

I’m sorry. I’m pulling your chain, it’s all good. It’s supposed to be a joke on myself. I tried to give well-intentioned advice and tried to play it up by “doubling down”.

Edit: Damnit, I’m making it worse! Your joke was fine! I couldn’t handle it well! There! Gawd!

You did… What? Make me angrier? Good job! Stop interrupting an old man who’s yelling at clouds!

(… and start appreciating, for fuck’s sake. I know what it looks like.)

The post alone makes me angrier than the cooking result, and that’s saying something.

It looks like student cuisine. Is it really so reprehensible that someone improvises with limited resources? To me, it shows a lot of potential because the good will is there.

People have different skill sets and levels. So, instead of looking down on it, maybe next time you should cook with him instead of arrogantly posting a photo for praise from people who, unlike this person, have no influence on your life?

Pro tip: Cooking together is a fantastic date.

We all know you never wanted one.

Edit: I’ll note that almost every reply here is just insulting me.

No, they’re not. We all know you’re getting the reaction you wanted and expected. Stop playing the victim.

This one made me feel a lot of things.

Many of the songs I sing are ones that once made others think of me. It still hurts.

Some of the images I draw from are what others made for me. I still dream of them.

Sometimes, there’s a scent passing me by, from their kitchen, his hiding spot, her bedroom. I’m still there.

I may have to lay down for a bit.