This is an easy demonstration for the dummies why Traditional Latin Mass is not about Latin

That's slavery. 24 people in Georgia were indicted for enslaving Latin Americans. Americans have slaves in the 21st century.

her name is sine as in sine qua non in latin

Make colonialism great again! For decades Latin America condemned American intervention as a attack on sovereignty. Meanwhile one by one nations ceded their sovereignty to cartels. No longer. We will kidnap your leaders and decapitate the cartels. Submit to America or else.

Una vez más las mentiras tienen patas cortas, quedaron al desubierto que mientras decían que expulsaban a un Latin King este seguía en las reuniones por vía zoom para seguir planificando narrativas falsas. Luisa González una vez más quedó como 🤡🤡

Corazon Inmaculado latin Trap youtu.be/cdOWBnnrGJ0?si=UJru… via @YouTube

take this latin protein 😛🍼👀

We’re talking about Latin America, not Germany here

When the Latin American part of the go for it Nakamura fandom is making posts and I’m able to read them with my two years of Spanish

I'm going to add onto my post and say this, this black erasure is what ya'll Haitians get for trying to larp as Latinos; Haitians are not culturally, linguistically, or historically Latino, that's why Dominicans get recognized as Latinos but Haitians don't. The key difference is that Haiti was a FRENCH colony, so its language & culture developed around French & Haitian Creole, not Spanish. By contrast, 🇩🇴Dominicans come from the Spanish-speaking side of the same island (Hispanola), with deep Spanish colonial roots, language, and traditions. 🇨🇺Cubans was a Spanish colony for centuries; Spanish language, culture, and history tie them directly to Latin America. 🇵🇷Puerto Rico was another former Spanish colony with strong Spanish linguistic and cultural foundations (even under U.S. territory today). 🇧🇷Brazilians are included because Brazil was colonized by Portugal, even though they speak Portuguese instead of Spanish, the broader "Latino" or "Latin American" category usually covers people from countries in the Americas where Romance languages (Spanish or Portuguese) took root after Iberian colonization. The term "Latino" is mainly tied to that shared Spanish/Portuguese colonial history in Latin America, which is why Haiti with its French colonial background is typically left out of that label, even though it's geographically in the Caribbean. Latino is not a race, I’ll say it again, Latino is not a race; there are white, black, mestizo, & indigenous Latinos, but in the U.S., the term 'Latino' has gotten heavily racialized to mostly mean mestizo or 'brown' people. Afro-Latinos from places like Brazil, Cuba, Panama, and other Latin American countries are recognized as Afro-Latinos because they come from Spanish or Portuguese-speaking cultures, Haitians don’t have that, they speak Haitian Creole (with French roots), which isn’t tied to Latin culture the same way. On top of that, Latin/South America is very anti-Black, Afro-Latinos & indigenous people face heavy discrimination from white and mestizo Latinos. Haitians are still predominantly African, both genetically & culturally, a lot of Haitians are 95-99% sub-saharan African, if they pushed hard to be seen as Latino, they would run into a lot of 'mestizaje' supremacy, colorism, and anti-blackness that a lot of Haitians probably aren’t ready to deal with. Haitians might say "but Haiti is geographically in Latin America", that is true but people also focus on culture, language, & history, and Haiti is not culturally, linguistically, or historically Latino. There is a huge stigma around of African descent in Latin America, many people believe in 'mejora la raza' (better the race) & blanqueamiento, being of African descent is still largely looked down upon, so the last thing most Latin countries want to do is include or graft Haitians who are 90% African on average into the 'Latino' fold, Dominicans especially will not stand for that, that's the unfortunate truth.

Tonight marks the launch of the second US leg of the highest-grossing Latin female tour of all time: Las Mujeres Ya No Lloran World Tour. The mega-concert kicks off at the Intuit Dome in California at 8:00 PM. Tyla or Ed Sheeran—who will join the Queen on stage for the first time tonight? 🎤🔥

Bishop Barron at War with His Penis: A Dave Chappelle Joint You ever watch Bishop Robert Barron on Word on Fire? Smooth voice, sharp suit, dropping Aquinas like it’s hot fire, talking about the beauty of chastity and the sacredness of the body like he’s got it all figured out. But let me tell you what they don’t show on YouTube, folks. Midnight. The rectory. Lights low. That’s when the real theology seminar starts... and Bishop Barron is in the trenches, at war with his dick. Picture it: The man’s on his knees, not praying the Rosary, but negotiating with the one part of him that didn’t get the memo about celibacy. He’s got the holy water on standby, ice bucket ready like he’s about to baptize a demon. “Peace be with you,” he whispers to his lap. And that dick? It hits him back like, “And also with you, motherfucker. You think those medieval vows cover me? I was here before the Vatican, Bob. I’m older than indulgences.” Barron’s pacing now, muttering Latin like it’s a exorcism. “Domine, non sum dignus...” Whack! He gives it a little theological love tap. Not too hard — he’s a gentleman scholar — but enough to send the message. Then comes the cold water. SPLASH. Straight from the pitcher like he’s trying to recreate the parting of the Red Sea, but on his own personal Promised Land. “Ahhh! The mortification of the flesh!” he gasps, voice cracking like a choirboy who just discovered Pornhub. His dick just laughs at him, bobbing back up like, “Boy, you Catholic or you just cosplaying? Hashem didn’t say nothing about this in the Torah. You out here punching me like I’m a heretic!” It’s a full-on Chappelle sketch in real time. One minute he’s quoting the Catechism, next minute he’s doing the stiff-legged walk to the bathroom like he’s got a live grenade in his boxers. “This is spiritual warfare!” he tells the mirror. The mirror don’t say shit back, but his reflection’s dick is clearly team penis. And the internal monologue? Pure gold: “Think of the saints, Robert. Think of Mary. Think of... nah, don’t think of Mary like that, you degenerate!” Cold water again. Punch. Prayer. Repeat. By 3 a.m. he’s exhausted, lying there defeated, whispering, “The spirit is willing... but this flesh is on some other shit.” Then the dick gets the last word, every single night: “Tell Word on Fire I said what’s good, Bishop. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Cut to black. Audience losing their minds. Dave Chappelle voiceover: “Y’all think bishops got it easy? Nah... some of them out here fighting the good fight with one hand tied behind their back... and the other one holding an ice pack.” Welcome to the real Word on Fire, ladies and gentlemen. Praise the Lord... and pass the cold water.

GREEK spread through Hellenistic conquests LATIN spread through Roman conquests. ARABIC spread through Islamic invasions. FRENCH spread through French colonialism. ENGLISH spread through British colonialism. SANSKRIT alone spread without armies behind it. It spread via India's prestige in the ancient world; via Hindu mathematics; via Hindu religion; and via Hindu and Buddhist philosophy. It spread purely voluntarily.

Bishop Barron at War with His Penis: A Dave Chappelle Joint You ever watch Bishop Robert Barron on Word on Fire? Smooth voice, sharp suit, dropping Aquinas like it’s hot fire, talking about the beauty of chastity and the sacredness of the body like he’s got it all figured out. But let me tell you what they don’t show on YouTube, folks. Midnight. The rectory. Lights low. That’s when the real theology seminar starts... and Bishop Barron is in the trenches, at war with his dick. Picture it: The man’s on his knees, not praying the Rosary, but negotiating with the one part of him that didn’t get the memo about celibacy. He’s got the holy water on standby, ice bucket ready like he’s about to baptize a demon. “Peace be with you,” he whispers to his lap. And that dick? It hits him back like, “And also with you, motherfucker. You think those medieval vows cover me? I was here before the Vatican, Bob. I’m older than indulgences.” Barron’s pacing now, muttering Latin like it’s a exorcism. “Domine, non sum dignus...” Whack! He gives it a little theological love tap. Not too hard — he’s a gentleman scholar — but enough to send the message. Then comes the cold water. SPLASH. Straight from the pitcher like he’s trying to recreate the parting of the Red Sea, but on his own personal Promised Land. “Ahhh! The mortification of the flesh!” he gasps, voice cracking like a choirboy who just discovered Pornhub. His dick just laughs at him, bobbing back up like, “Boy, you Catholic or you just cosplaying? Hashem didn’t say nothing about this in the Torah. You out here punching me like I’m a heretic!” It’s a full-on Chappelle sketch in real time. One minute he’s quoting the Catechism, next minute he’s doing the stiff-legged walk to the bathroom like he’s got a live grenade in his boxers. “This is spiritual warfare!” he tells the mirror. The mirror don’t say shit back, but his reflection’s dick is clearly team penis. And the internal monologue? Pure gold: “Think of the saints, Robert. Think of Mary. Think of... nah, don’t think of Mary like that, you degenerate!” Cold water again. Punch. Prayer. Repeat. By 3 a.m. he’s exhausted, lying there defeated, whispering, “The spirit is willing... but this flesh is on some other shit.” Then the dick gets the last word, every single night: “Tell Word on Fire I said what’s good, Bishop. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Cut to black. Audience losing their minds. Dave Chappelle voiceover: “Y’all think bishops got it easy? Nah... some of them out here fighting the good fight with one hand tied behind their back... and the other one holding an ice pack.” Welcome to the real Word on Fire, ladies and gentlemen. Praise the Lord... and pass the cold water.

Bishop Barron at War with His Penis: A Dave Chappelle Joint You ever watch Bishop Robert Barron on Word on Fire? Smooth voice, sharp suit, dropping Aquinas like it’s hot fire, talking about the beauty of chastity and the sacredness of the body like he’s got it all figured out. But let me tell you what they don’t show on YouTube, folks. Midnight. The rectory. Lights low. That’s when the real theology seminar starts... and Bishop Barron is in the trenches, at war with his dick. Picture it: The man’s on his knees, not praying the Rosary, but negotiating with the one part of him that didn’t get the memo about celibacy. He’s got the holy water on standby, ice bucket ready like he’s about to baptize a demon. “Peace be with you,” he whispers to his lap. And that dick? It hits him back like, “And also with you, motherfucker. You think those medieval vows cover me? I was here before the Vatican, Bob. I’m older than indulgences.” Barron’s pacing now, muttering Latin like it’s a exorcism. “Domine, non sum dignus...” Whack! He gives it a little theological love tap. Not too hard — he’s a gentleman scholar — but enough to send the message. Then comes the cold water. SPLASH. Straight from the pitcher like he’s trying to recreate the parting of the Red Sea, but on his own personal Promised Land. “Ahhh! The mortification of the flesh!” he gasps, voice cracking like a choirboy who just discovered Pornhub. His dick just laughs at him, bobbing back up like, “Boy, you Catholic or you just cosplaying? Hashem didn’t say nothing about this in the Torah. You out here punching me like I’m a heretic!” It’s a full-on Chappelle sketch in real time. One minute he’s quoting the Catechism, next minute he’s doing the stiff-legged walk to the bathroom like he’s got a live grenade in his boxers. “This is spiritual warfare!” he tells the mirror. The mirror don’t say shit back, but his reflection’s dick is clearly team penis. And the internal monologue? Pure gold: “Think of the saints, Robert. Think of Mary. Think of... nah, don’t think of Mary like that, you degenerate!” Cold water again. Punch. Prayer. Repeat. By 3 a.m. he’s exhausted, lying there defeated, whispering, “The spirit is willing... but this flesh is on some other shit.” Then the dick gets the last word, every single night: “Tell Word on Fire I said what’s good, Bishop. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Cut to black. Audience losing their minds. Dave Chappelle voiceover: “Y’all think bishops got it easy? Nah... some of them out here fighting the good fight with one hand tied behind their back... and the other one holding an ice pack.” Welcome to the real Word on Fire, ladies and gentlemen. Praise the Lord... and pass the cold water.

Bishop Barron at War with His Penis: A Dave Chappelle Joint You ever watch Bishop Robert Barron on Word on Fire? Smooth voice, sharp suit, dropping Aquinas like it’s hot fire, talking about the beauty of chastity and the sacredness of the body like he’s got it all figured out. But let me tell you what they don’t show on YouTube, folks. Midnight. The rectory. Lights low. That’s when the real theology seminar starts... and Bishop Barron is in the trenches, at war with his dick. Picture it: The man’s on his knees, not praying the Rosary, but negotiating with the one part of him that didn’t get the memo about celibacy. He’s got the holy water on standby, ice bucket ready like he’s about to baptize a demon. “Peace be with you,” he whispers to his lap. And that dick? It hits him back like, “And also with you, motherfucker. You think those medieval vows cover me? I was here before the Vatican, Bob. I’m older than indulgences.” Barron’s pacing now, muttering Latin like it’s a exorcism. “Domine, non sum dignus...” Whack! He gives it a little theological love tap. Not too hard — he’s a gentleman scholar — but enough to send the message. Then comes the cold water. SPLASH. Straight from the pitcher like he’s trying to recreate the parting of the Red Sea, but on his own personal Promised Land. “Ahhh! The mortification of the flesh!” he gasps, voice cracking like a choirboy who just discovered Pornhub. His dick just laughs at him, bobbing back up like, “Boy, you Catholic or you just cosplaying? Hashem didn’t say nothing about this in the Torah. You out here punching me like I’m a heretic!” It’s a full-on Chappelle sketch in real time. One minute he’s quoting the Catechism, next minute he’s doing the stiff-legged walk to the bathroom like he’s got a live grenade in his boxers. “This is spiritual warfare!” he tells the mirror. The mirror don’t say shit back, but his reflection’s dick is clearly team penis. And the internal monologue? Pure gold: “Think of the saints, Robert. Think of Mary. Think of... nah, don’t think of Mary like that, you degenerate!” Cold water again. Punch. Prayer. Repeat. By 3 a.m. he’s exhausted, lying there defeated, whispering, “The spirit is willing... but this flesh is on some other shit.” Then the dick gets the last word, every single night: “Tell Word on Fire I said what’s good, Bishop. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Cut to black. Audience losing their minds. Dave Chappelle voiceover: “Y’all think bishops got it easy? Nah... some of them out here fighting the good fight with one hand tied behind their back... and the other one holding an ice pack.” Welcome to the real Word on Fire, ladies and gentlemen. Praise the Lord... and pass the cold water.

Bishop Barron at War with His Penis: A Dave Chappelle Joint You ever watch Bishop Robert Barron on Word on Fire? Smooth voice, sharp suit, dropping Aquinas like it’s hot fire, talking about the beauty of chastity and the sacredness of the body like he’s got it all figured out. But let me tell you what they don’t show on YouTube, folks. Midnight. The rectory. Lights low. That’s when the real theology seminar starts... and Bishop Barron is in the trenches, at war with his dick. Picture it: The man’s on his knees, not praying the Rosary, but negotiating with the one part of him that didn’t get the memo about celibacy. He’s got the holy water on standby, ice bucket ready like he’s about to baptize a demon. “Peace be with you,” he whispers to his lap. And that dick? It hits him back like, “And also with you, motherfucker. You think those medieval vows cover me? I was here before the Vatican, Bob. I’m older than indulgences.” Barron’s pacing now, muttering Latin like it’s a exorcism. “Domine, non sum dignus...” Whack! He gives it a little theological love tap. Not too hard — he’s a gentleman scholar — but enough to send the message. Then comes the cold water. SPLASH. Straight from the pitcher like he’s trying to recreate the parting of the Red Sea, but on his own personal Promised Land. “Ahhh! The mortification of the flesh!” he gasps, voice cracking like a choirboy who just discovered Pornhub. His dick just laughs at him, bobbing back up like, “Boy, you Catholic or you just cosplaying? Hashem didn’t say nothing about this in the Torah. You out here punching me like I’m a heretic!” It’s a full-on Chappelle sketch in real time. One minute he’s quoting the Catechism, next minute he’s doing the stiff-legged walk to the bathroom like he’s got a live grenade in his boxers. “This is spiritual warfare!” he tells the mirror. The mirror don’t say shit back, but his reflection’s dick is clearly team penis. And the internal monologue? Pure gold: “Think of the saints, Robert. Think of Mary. Think of... nah, don’t think of Mary like that, you degenerate!” Cold water again. Punch. Prayer. Repeat. By 3 a.m. he’s exhausted, lying there defeated, whispering, “The spirit is willing... but this flesh is on some other shit.” Then the dick gets the last word, every single night: “Tell Word on Fire I said what’s good, Bishop. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Cut to black. Audience losing their minds. Dave Chappelle voiceover: “Y’all think bishops got it easy? Nah... some of them out here fighting the good fight with one hand tied behind their back... and the other one holding an ice pack.” Welcome to the real Word on Fire, ladies and gentlemen. Praise the Lord... and pass the cold water.