On Sep 13, 1944, a princess from India lay dead at Dachau concentration camp. She had been tortured by the Nazis, then shot in the head. Her name was Noor Inayat Khan. The Germans knew her only as Nora Baker, a British spy who had gone into occupied France using the code name Madeline. She carried her transmitter from safe house to safe house with the Gestapo trailing her, providing communications for her Resistance unit.
Oh my God, yes. Let’s talk about Noor Inayat Khan.
- Wireless operators in France had a life expectancy of six weeks. Noor was actively transmitting for over three times as long.
- While she was in France, every other wireless operator in her network was slowly picked off until she was the last radio link between London and Paris. It was “the most dangerous and important post in France”.
- She was offered a way back to Britain and refused.
- In fact, in her transmissions to London, she once said that she was having the time of her life, and thanked them for giving her the opportunity to do this.
- She was captured by the Gestapo, but never gave up: she made three attempt escapes. One involved asking to take a bath, insisting on being allowed to close the door to preserve her modesty, and then clambering onto the roof of the Gestapo HQ in Paris.
- Her last word before being shot was, “Liberté!”
The term BAMF was coined for such persons.
Her entire life, and her mother’s life as well, are FASCINATING. A Royal, Muslim, Anglo-Indian woman in WWII… Could we have a sweeping FACTUAL movie please. Like now?
Yet another story I would like to read.
You guys! There IS A MOVIE!
Enemy of the Reich: The Noor Inayat Khan Story
WHY DO I NOT KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT THIS
“Cecil, I don’t even remember how I got to Night Vale in the first place. I mean, where is Night Vale, even? But I promise I will find a way back. It’ll just take a couple of days, a week max.
Best of luck at home. I love you.”
I FINALLY FINISHED IT! This sorta became my birthday gift to myself since it took longer than expected (wow so angst). Ugh, this part broke me okay. I think I let out a strangled sob when this happened. I can’t wait for the next episode! ;A;
I love this so much!!!
Howdy! It’s that time again… time for The Backlot’s Third Annual Slash Madness Tournament!
I have to admit that last year was loads of no fun - lots of awful commentary by the fans (usually along the lines of “we know that Destiel and Sterek are going to be in the final so why do we have to bother with the rest of these rounds”), cheating (bot voting galore), allegations of cheating, and the voting rules changing round to round (some were one vote an hour, others were vote as often as you like).
That said, the Twitter conversation I posted above from the first tournament (when The Backlot was still AfterElton) was part of what made the whole thing fun; lots of different celebs tweeting supporting their show, fans were excited to turn other fans onto their pairings/shows and it was just all hugely entertaining. It turned a bit sour last year so I’m hesitant to wade into the waters again.
July 16th marks our shows (and McShep’s) tenth anniversary and I honestly think that McShep deserves to be included in the tournament. So nominate McShep on Twitter and on Tumblr using the #slashmadness tag. Go to The Backlot and nominate them there! Make gif sets and manips, write meta, write a recommended episode or fanfic list, link to your favorite fan vids or just gush about why we still love McShep!
Thinking back, it was the first tournament that turned me on to Teen Wolf, just because the Sterek fandom was just so positive and so in love with Derek and Stiles.
We can do the same thing.
Let’s show the world just how awesome Stargate Atlantis is, because honestly if they start watching the show by the time they get to the "invulnerable" scene in the second episode they’ll get it - as they’re melting from the adorableness that is John and Rodney playing with Ancient tech.
And while sometimes I think there’s no way we can win this thing, I have to remind myself that in the first tournament we went up against Destiel and pulled in 41.35% of the vote. And that isn’t too shabby. Can we do it again? Can we do better? It’s all up to you.
Gear up people! We’ve got work to do.
On May 28th, my sister, Edna, turned 31.
Her mental age is about three years old. She loves Winnie the Pooh, Beauty & the Beast, and Sesame Street. Even though the below picture is unconvincing.
Edna and “Cookie.” I think she was trying to play it cool.
My name is Jeanie. I’m Edna’s younger sister. I’m also her guardian and caregiver.
That’s me on the left. (Hey, you never know. After a year of writing a blog about online dating - Jeanie Does the Internet - I’ve come to learn that there are A LOT of fools on the internet.)
ANYWAY, I’m not “doing the internet” anymore. I’m taking care of Edna full-time, after completing my MFA in Writing for Screen & Television at USC.
May 16, 2014. I wanted a picture. Edna wanted breakfast.
In case you’re wondering where our parents are, they’re dead. Our mom died of breast cancer when she was just 33.
Us with mom before she died. (Obviously.)
As for our dad, he peaced-out around the time my mom got sick. His loss - we’re awesome.
Here we are being awesome at the beach. Pushing a wheelchair in the sand? Not so awesome.
In case you’re wondering “What’s wrong?” with my sister - as a stranger once asked me on the street - NOTHING. Yes, Edna has a rare form of epilepsy - Lennox-Gastaut syndrome - but I don’t know if that’s anymore “wrong” than people who don’t have manners.
Basically, Edna was born “normal,” and started having seizures as a baby. They eventually got so bad that they cut off the oxygen to her brain, causing her to be mentally disabled. Or impaired. Or intellectually disabled. Or whatever you want to call it - except “retarded,” because in 2010, President Obama signed Rosa’s Law into effect, replacing that word with “intellectually impaired.”
Which is cool and all, but services for the disabled and the people who care for them are SEVERELY LACKING. Also, there’s a bunch of people working in taxpayer-funded positions who are supposed to help families like us, but don’t. (Big surprise, I know.) They just fill out paperwork (whenever they feel like it) with asinine statements like this:
YUP. I transport my sister down the stairs in her wheelchair, because that is not only safe, but TOTALLY PRACTICAL. Why doesn’t everyone in a wheelchair just take the stairs, for God’s sake? Stop being so lazy, PEOPLE WITHOUT WORKING LEGS!
But, as it says above, Edna’s legs do work. Whether or not she wants them to, is another story.
Edna refusing to go inside.
These are the stairs that I have to carry her up - by myself - on a daily basis. That is, until one of my legs break and both of us are just sitting at the bottom of the stairs, helpless.
For six months, I have begged - BEGGED - the State of California to help my sister, which they are required by law - The Lanterman Act specifically - to do so. But they’ve told me “these things take time” and that I “need to amend my expectations.” (That was said to me when I refused to place Edna at AN ALL-MALE CARE FACILITY. Because yes, that was an “option” that was offered to me.)
Prior to Edna moving in with me in my one-bedroom apartment, she was living with her amazing caregiver, Gaby, back in Tucson, where we went to high school and I did my undergrad. Edna’s reppin’ the Wildcats below.
But back in November, Gaby also died from breast cancer. (FUCK YOU, BREAST CANCER!) This picture was taken a month before she died. She never even told me she was sick because she didn’t want me to worry.
By the way, we were raised by our grandma. Edna and her were very close.
She’s dead, too. Surprise.
She died when I was 20 and Edna was 21. That’s when I became Edna’s legal guardian and Gaby stepped into the picture to help me out with Edna.
So, six months ago, after Gaby died, I moved Edna to California, where I tried to get the folks over at The Frank D. Lanterman Regional Center to help me. I’ve told them I’m worried about our safety - that one of us could get hurt on the stairs - I’ve told them I can’t afford to pay the private babysitters $15/hour because the ones social services sent me who make $9/hour were unreliable (they didn’t show up on time or at all so I could get to school and work), untrustworthy (one of them let Edna go to the bathroom in the kitchen and then took her into the bathroom because “that what I thought I was supposed to do.”)
But the people over at the FLRC don’t return my calls, they don’t file the paperwork on time - and the first caseworker that was assigned to us actually LAUGHED AT my sister when he came to our home to evaluate her. When I reported him to his supervisor, she told me, “That’s just [insert name of said jackass].”
He was one of the two caseworkers that contributed to the report I mentioned above, which also included this:
So let me get this straight - I have to feed, bathe, dress and help Edna in the bathroom and you can’t deduce whether or not she is able to vote? What in the fuck?!
Now I realize I seem angry. And you can bet your balls I am. I’m also sad. Sad for those who don’t have family to stick up from them and who waste away God knows where, monitored by no one. Or monitored by people who physically and sexually assault them.
I’m also sad for the caregivers who are SO EXHAUSTED - trying to take care of their loved ones - while also trying to take care of themselves and battling a system that is supposed to help, but does nothing of the sort. And I know a lot of people give up. They let their dreams, their marriages, their friendships slide. All while trying not to resent the very person you’re doing it all for.
Edna wanted to sit next to me the other day while I was writing. Clearly, she’s not impressed.
Here’s the thing: I REFUSE TO GIVE UP. I’M NOT GIVING UP ON HER OR MYSELF. I’m going to pursue my dreams while taking care of her, AND while ensuring that the people paid to do their jobs ACTUALLY do them.
That’s where you come in. I need you to help me get my story out there. Because I know I’m not alone in this. I want to connect with families who are in similar situations and also show people who have no idea what it’s like to care for someone with a disability (or even a loved one who is sick) that it can be rewarding. Super fucking hard. Exhausting. Painful. Isolating. But, rewarding.
I’m going to get help for my sister - and others. My hope is that by sharing our story, I can bring awareness to the lack of services and help for the disabled.
This made me cry
Really feeling sick at how little disabled people can access the care they need. This is fucked.
IMPORTANT! SO IMPORTANT!