Before anything else, I am a writer.

I would also call myself a singer. Or a textile artist, maybe. I could be a sibling, or a friend, or a student, or a baker, or a gardener, or a cook. There is an incredible number of labels you could put on me that would fit.

When I was a kid, I would deny so vehemently that I ever wanted to be a writer. I used to read like it was breathing, and when my relatives would interrupt me in the middle of a story to ask if I'd ever want to author one myself, I would tell them that reading and writing were two different things, thank you very much, and just because I was a reader didn't mean I was a writer.

But, through that love for reading, I ended up figuring out what the phrase "Stockholm Syndrome" meant much younger than you might expect. Think eight or nine, after reading the "Series of Unfortunate Events." Which, if you didn't know, is a notably bad place to garner vocabulary. Lemony Snicket is in the habit of explaining words in a context entirely different from what they actually mean. Still, I have a vivid memory of sitting in a corner of the living room on Thanksgiving as a nine-year-old (reading, naturally), and hearing my sister's boyfriend ask my mom for clarification on the concept of Stockholm Syndrome. I looked up from my book and told him what it was -- much to the chagrin of my parents, who were wondering where I'd learned it.

It's ironic that it was a book that introduced me to the concept of Stockholm Syndrome, and that it was one of the few phrases that Lemony Snicket ever explained correctly. I doubt you're unfamiliar with it, but it means to be trapped or held captive by something, and to grow to love it anyway.

When I think about it now, I realize that it was inevitable that I learned to love to write. I also hated learning how to read, but my dad taught me before I even started kindergarten, and I loved knowing I was better at it than the other kids. It was my way of setting myself apart. I drank so desperately from the books I read that I couldn't help but fill myself with words.

And then, just as inevitably, they had nowhere to go.

That was the first part of my own experience with Stockholm Syndrome. I was folded into myself like origami, with so much to say and no space for it. Every word I'd ever read was crammed into my lungs, and I didn't know what to do with them. It wasn't until I found other people's writing (like Broadway shows I loved, intersectional queer lit, characters that looked and felt and breathed like me, etc.) that I ever wanted to make my own.

I didn't start writing until I was 13. I found my first inspiration -- and what it was, I'll never tell because lord, is it embarrassing -- and I made something out of it. It felt like reaching down into my chest and taking hold of something I barely knew was there and turning myself out onto the page, but in a different font. Whether that be Times New Roman or the chicken scratch I had going in 4 different notebooks simultaneously, there was always something to say. I could never get away from it. And, as the Stockholm Syndrome mention might suggest, I grew to love it.

There is a part of me now that is inextricable from my writing. I put words together to get feelings out, in a way that is both authentic to myself and more beautiful than anything I have ever been. I put words together to process what I've been through. I put words together to write lives that I've never lived, and I grow vicariously through them. I know that love exists because I write it into existence. I am all that I need to be through the words I put down.

At the end of the day, yes. I am fully and completely bound to my writing. I am trapped in a way that I will never experience elsewhere. I would be nothing without it.

But fuck, I love it.

Paparazzi: Please we just want to interview you all! Korra, holding the door down: Damn it they found out about us! Kyoshi, helping her: So uhhhh what do we do? Yangchen: Sigh, we could just answer their questions. Korra and Kyoshi: Yeah no our public image isn't the best, and we really suck with that type of stuff. Aang: I'm a child. :) Kuruk: I don't deal with people. Roku: Something tells me we'll regret talking with them. So, no. Yangchen: FINE! I'll talk to them. What's the worst that can happen?

Reporter: Yangchen! Yangchen! What's it like being the only Dom in a long line of Subs? Yangchen: This panel is closed!

Robin!Jason: Gee I sure am glad to spend the weekend here uncle Clark!

Clark who is sweating a little thinking about when he would watch Dick: I’m glad you’re here too bud! So, what do you want to do first?

He was fully expecting him to say ARSON like his predecessor.

Robin!Jason: Oh I have a great idea! After I do my homework we can each read a book, write a review about what we like about it and a short summary! Then we can see if the other person wants to read that book!

Clark:… that sounds like a book report.

Robin!jason, looking incredibly excited: I know! :D

Clark: …Sounds like a plan!

I've started and deleted three drafts now trying to get my thoughts into a coherent recommendation, but there's just so much.

Let's start with the basics: You should read the graphic novel if you're a fan of the original show. You just should. It's new content of your old faves, and I'm telling you now that the art and writing are great and that you should give it a shot based on that alone.

But as for exactly why I'm losing my mind over it this much...?

It... feels like watching the show. But a version of the show unafraid to explore its own worldbuilding. A version of the show where continuity and character growth matter. A version of the show without jokes written by people far too old to understand mid-2000s teens.

And it is actually, honest-to-goodness funny. I went in fully braced for a badly shoehorned "fruit loop" one-liner, and instead I got incredible deadpan asides like this:

The art, too, manages to perfectly ride the line of looking enough like the original style to be convincing, but improving on the expressiveness of the characters' faces and actions to elevate it to something arguably better than the show:

(Like, I'm being so serious when I say the fight scenes are among the best I have ever seen in comic form. I'm the kind of person who tends to go for anime over manga because the fights are harder for me to follow in little sequential snapshots, but I can tell exactly what's happening in these battles AND they still look super cinematic and cool.)

And the story. Man, the STORY.

I won't spoil any of the plot here, but it's... really good. A little winding and goofy toward the beginning, but once things get serious, it really grabs you and refuses to let go til it's done. (Much like the best episodes of the show! Funny how that works.) It has a satisfying conclusion, but it also leaves a massive door open to continue telling more stories in the setting.

And I want more stories in this universe. The threads being dangled here might be even more enticing than those left by the original show. There is potential here for an INCREDIBLE series of comics.

We just have to prove how badly we want it.

If you can't buy the book yourself right now (it's relatively cheap for a graphic novel--I think it was about $15 even with tax from my Barnes & Noble), then please at least let other fans know it exists (I wouldn't have had any idea if not for tumblr) and keep the hype going on social media. I'm stoked to see that DP is trending on tumblr, at least, and I hope the same is true elsewhere. It's a small thing, but it's something corporate decision-makers take note of.

Fingers crossed we get to see more someday. This is one series that deserves to come back from the dead.

But, whether or not we get that continuation: welcome back, Phandom. Congrats and happy release day. 💚

Professors are so funny. "How has this book I made you read changed you fundamentally as a person?"

Lol. My dude. I will write this report and then never think of it again.

Javert, the world is not merely black and white.

[Image ID: a drawing split into three vertical diagonal panels. The top and the bottom panels are a shade of dark blue. The top panel, written in white, reads: “He gave me my life/He gave me freedom.” The bottom panel, also written in white, reads: “I should have perished by his hand.” The word “perished” is written in red.

The middle panel shows an up-close drawing of Javert’s eyes. Blood is matted across the corner of his face. His eyes are blue and looking towards the sky with a frantic look. He is crying. His skin is pale, his hair dark. He is engulfed in shadows from the night sky as well as light from the moon above. /End ID]

All the girls are together.

A Ghost Story

Raise the Black

Castiel Novak's Office, This is Dean

Rosalies love language is car

ok but the fact that "aziraphale is softening. they haven't spoken in a hundred years: he's realizing they're still friends" and "there's no need to thank me that's what...friends...are for" was in the same night is making me go INSANE

Everyone should watch Rustin – the latest Netflix film. It celebrates the life and legacy of Bayard Rustin, a giant of the civil rights movement and the architect of the 1963 March on Washington.

I am so happy his incredible story is being told finally. Bayard Rustin was incredibly smart, strategic, brave and charismatic. He is a pioneer of civil rights, nonviolence, and gay rights. We owe so much to this incredible man and we don't talk enough about him.

He did so much for us and it should be recognized.

Something that I’d forgotten until I dug the books out again, but which I think makes them a pretty fun piece of history, is that my editions of The Lord Of The Rings would be dateable down to the microsecond from looking at the covers alone even if I didn’t look them up online to confirm they were printed in 1999:

(please ignore my awful chipped nail polish I’m putting it out of its misery today)

Oh boy, a motion picture trilogy!! I hope it’s going to be good! I heard it’s being directed by that guy who made, uh, Meet The Feebles and Braindead? Weird choice, but I can try to keep an open mind…

One year ago today I put in my notice at the last corporate job I held, which was a large auto manufacturing company. It was a mess. I got hired in as a support database developer working on special projects and then on my 78th day they had a reorganization that changed my job function.

I specifically asked in my interview if there were other database developers because I didn't want to be the only one (yes) and if I would have to be on call for anything (no). That changed. I went from having 2 other people to help to no one. I hadn't even been there a full 3 months. Barely knew the code base and was expected to be able to solve any database related code issues for 3 separate internal web applications related to dealers that were a big deal. My boss asked another department if they could loan out their database developer as needed since he "had to work of three database developers and just one database developer". That manager said sure, but he owed her an ice cream sundae.

I was so fucking disgusted, among other things.

While the pay was nice, it wasn't 3 database developers worth of pay. Not even on a low end of 75K per developer, and it wasn't like they were going to revise my pay. I was also expected to be in charge of a whole nother application and be on call for it / be the Subject Matter Expert and I was also supposed to train the junior JAVA developers on how to be database developers to "help me out"

In my last one on one with my boss, I mentioned that this was no longer the job I interviewed for and he kind of laughed and said, "Yeah". I had also mentioned that I had some type of work PTSD from my past job and at first that also struck him as funny but he regrouped and attempted to be empathetic. This sounds like he was malicious but he seemed more completely clueless and awkward. Though I did get the sense that he was passive aggressive and held grudges based on some other things I observed. It was not good.

So, after talking with Unfriendly about it and our finances, I quit. Whatever fucked up cost cutting that was going to get higher ups a nice bonus surely did not affect me in the slightest. It went from being a nice place to land and get my bearings after healthcare health plan hell to just more shit.

I was disappointed because the gal who referred me really loved working there. She had wanted me to work there but at the time, their only office was in the heart of Atlanta. Later on that changed and she had gotten promoted to management herself. She was either too blind / part of the problem or she knew the shit show that was coming. We weren't close or anything. Just LinkedIn friends at that point, though we had bonded over the crap job we worked at together my first year in GA.

Today I learned that my supervisor on the team I was supporting in AZ got affected as part of layoffs that affected everyone who worked in that location. She was really nice and I could tell from her facial expressions in meetings that she was not on board with how their reorg negatively affected me. She and her team were really gracious about me leaving and they all gave me compliments and online rewards which I cashed out when I left. I hope she finds something that doesn't stress her out like this company did.

I re-read the day to day journal that's in my drafts that started the day I decided I was going to quit through my last day and I do not regret my decision at all.

Margaret of Anjou’s visit to Coventry [in 1456], which was part of her dower and that of her son, Edward of Lancaster, was much more elaborate. It essentially reasserted Lancastrian power. The presence of Henry and the infant Edward was recognised in the pageantry. The ceremonial route between the Bablake gate and the commercial centre was short, skirting the area controlled by the cathedral priory, but it made up for its brevity with no fewer than fourteen pageants. Since Coventry had an established cycle of mystery plays, there were presumably enough local resources and experience to mount an impressive display; but one John Wetherby was summoned from Leicester to compose verses and stage the scenes. As at Margaret’s coronation the iconography was elaborate, though it built upon earlier developments.

Starting at Bablake gate, next to the Trinity Guild church of St. Michael, Bablake, the party was welcomed with a Tree of Jesse, set up on the gate itself, with the prophets Isaiah and Jeremiah explaining the symbolism. Outside St. Michael’s church the party was greeted by Edward the Confessor and St. John the Evangelist; and proceeding to Smithford Street, they found on the conduit the four Cardinal Virtues—Righteousness (Justice?), Prudence, Temperance, and Fortitude. In Cross Cheaping wine flowed freely, as in London, and angels stood on the cross, censing Margaret as she passed. Beyond the cross was pitched a series of pageants, each displaying one of the Nine Worthies, who offered to serve Margaret. Finally, the queen was shown a pageant of her patron saint, Margaret, slaying the dragon [which 'turned out to be strictly an intercessor on the queen's behalf', as Helen Maurer points out].

The meanings here are complex and have been variously interpreted. An initial reading of the programme found a message of messianic kingship: the Jesse tree equating royal genealogy with that of Christ had been used at the welcome for Henry VI on his return from Paris in 1432. A more recent, feminist view is that the symbolism is essentially Marian, and to be associated with Margaret both as queen and mother of the heir rather than Henry himself. The theme is shared sovereignty, with Margaret equal to her husband and son. Ideal kingship was symbolised by the presence of Edward the Confessor, but Margaret was the person to whom the speeches were specifically addressed and she, not Henry, was seen as the saviour of the house of Lancaster. This reading tips the balance too far the other way: the tableau of Edward the Confessor and St. John was a direct reference to the legend of the Ring and the Pilgrim, one of Henry III’s favourite stories, which was illustrated in Westminster Abbey, several of his houses, and in manuscript. It symbolised royal largesse, and its message at Coventry would certainly have encompassed the reigning king. Again, the presence of allegorical figures, first used for Henry, seems to acknowledge his presence. Yet, while the message of the Coventry pageants was directed at contemporary events it emphasised Margaret’s motherhood and duties as queen; and it was expressed as a traditional spiritual journey from the Old Testament, via the incarnation represented by the cross, to the final triumph over evil, with the help of the Virgin, allegory, and the Worthies. The only true thematic innovation was the commentary by the prophets.

[...] The messages of the pageants firmly reminded the royal women of their place as mothers and mediators, honoured but subordinate. Yet, if passive, these young women were not without significance. It is clear from the pageantry of 1392 and 1426 in London and 1456 in Coventry that when a crisis needed to be resolved, the queen (or regent’s wife) was accorded extra recognition. Her duty as mediator—or the good aspect of a misdirected man—suddenly became more than a pious wish. At Coventry, Margaret of Anjou was even presented as the rock upon which the monarchy rested. [However,] a crisis had to be sensed in order to provoke such emphasis [...]."

-Nicola Coldstream, "Roles of Women in Late Medieval Civic Pageantry," "Reassessing the Roles of Women as 'Makers' of Medieval Art and Culture"

i wanna get ,,, someone pregnant