Me? Having intense feelings about Rengoku Kyojuro? Yeah you got me

[content warning: Demon Slayer spoilers up through the Mugen Train arc (season 2), descriptions of emotional abuse, death, (roundabout) suicide]

so here’s my deal with Rengoku. It’s made clear in the show that his dad did not step up to the plate. He verbally abused Rengoku. His time as a hashira meant he spent far more time defending people against demons than he spent being with his family. After his retirement, his listless parenting forced Rengoku to be both and older brother and a surrogate father for his younger sibling. Rengoku’s respect for his father is clouded for good reason. Rengoku’s respect for his father’s high-octane career, on the other hand, is pure and absolute.

That, too, is an outgrowth of Rengoku’s emotionally abusive childhood.

The hashira are the most skilled demon slayers. Their extraordinary power matches the extraordinary scope of their mission: defend humanity against demons. Not just individual people, as lower ranking demon slayers are assigned to do. The hashira have fought for and continue to fight for everybody. They fight for humanity itself.

Rengoku’s post-punch flashback shows him as a young boy, maybe 6 years old. His mother, deathly ill, looks him right in eye and gravely tells him the immense power he was born with must be used to “protect the weak.” Not weaker classmates or neighbor kids. THE weak: anyone who requires aid from “the strong,” a small group of which Rengoku is part. His mother embraces him, he clings back, and they both cry.

That. Is far, far too much to put on a child’s shoulders. Dropping expectations that heavy on one person—especially a child—is, if not outright abuse, very close to it.

Fast forward to Rengoku, the flame hashira, following in his father’s complicated footsteps. When you’re a hashira, almost every other human is less powerful than you. “The weak” includes any and every other person you run into. That means any and everyone else’s needs must be put before Rengoku’s. It’s his duty to prioritize things this way. That’s what Rengoku has been raised to believe.

Never, not fucking once, does this guy put himself first. Never. The first thing Rengoku says after receiving a fatal blow is a gentle reminder to Tanjiro; Rengoku tells him stay still so Tanjiro’s gut wound doesn’t reopen. 

Rengoku threw himself in front of the train cars full of defenseless humans because it is the right thing to do, but it’s far simpler than that. Rengoku does not have a choice here. He must protect these humans because that is his purpose. He is strong, they are not. Their lives are vulnerable and precious, so he must protect them at all costs. Even if that cost is his own precious and vulnerable life. Rengoku’s calculus is not utilitarian is what I’m saying. He’s not weighing a couple hundred human lives against his own and deciding that one life lost is better than hundreds. Rengoku would fight to the death to save one human. He would fight to the death to save the idea of humanity. He would fight to the death for a pyrrhic victory.

Rengoku’s death is a tragedy of ancient Greek proportions, as catastrophic as a tsunami and riddled with infinite aftershocks. Rengoku urges Tanjiro to pursue a hashira career. He urges Tanjiro to become him. Strip the meaning from your own life, willingly, in order to prioritize the lives of every other human in the world.

Tanjiro has one hell of a task ahead of him. Tanjiro’s dedication to his demon sister—who, according to the order of demon slayers, ought to be slain for the greater good—is the reason he’s training to slay demons at all. He wants to find a cure that will restore Nezuko’s humanity. I posit that this “cure” must also restore the hashira’s humanity.

The only way Tanjiro can reconcile his love for his demon sister and his passion for helping everyone he meets is to challenge the suicidal self-sacrifice built into the entire system of demon slaying. A truly just society cannot be built on the dehumanization of those seen as “other,” both in extremely negative and extremely positive ways: demons and hashira. The logic that labels Nezuko as dangerous and killable because purely she’s a demon—ignoring her peaceful track record—is the same contradictory logic that convinced Rengoku that he can and should gamble with his life in order to ensure the safety of other’s lives.

If you are extremely powerful or extremely dangerous, you need to (be willing to) die. So says the status quo. We, along with Tanjiro, watch Rengoku follow this idea to its gut wrenching conclusion. I think we’re gonna watch Tanjiro sever it. And I bet the water form he uses to do that will be awesome.

The truth I would say on dating apps.

Being an 80′s kid who’s been in a relationship for most of her adult life, I now feel like the mother of Goodbye Lenin who awakens from her coma: no freaking idea how to deal with dating apps. I tried a few and lasted just for half an hour each. I had fun in Alienation Nation, but I probably wouldn’t live there, you know. My pictures suck, everybody’s pictures suck, everyone’s craving for some validation and how the hell do I even know you’re interesting with those few lines of bio available. It feels like the startup Pecha Kucha pitch of your own Flesh & Mind™, just as finely organized as in a supermarket shelf. I confess I also had some troubles finding any relevant shit to write about myself. The last time I’ve inquired about my own identity so thoroughly I was a teen and the last time I thought I’d use my identity for romantic-marketing purposes was actually never.

So I spontaneously thought we might be very close to a world where we should want to directly pursue what we eventually get from online networks, i.e. disconnection. I’ve imagined the non-dating app for happily staying away from each other, where everybody markets their worse flaws in their own bio’s. I wrote mine too. And then realized it was uncool anyway, because I don’t have a spectacular sense of self-unworth the same way I don’t have a neat sense of self-worth. Damn.

So I thought about the pure, raw truth. And ended up writing a shit-ton of stuff. I’ll share it with you below. Now, find me an app where I could honestly say it. And maybe some equally awkward matches, too.

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I am a wanderer. An astrology nerd. A flea market enthusiast. A gingerbread addict. I am a listener. I own an acoustic guitar which I can't play, but it's nice to have guests who play it sometimes. I love Primitivo wine. Also coffee - but I don't drink it, because it makes me freak out. So let's say I love who loves coffee. Black. No sugar. And craft beers. And dark chocolate. I find this shit so sexy! But it makes me feel sick. So I love it in others. Talking about difficulties we're attracted to, huh? I enjoy moody, underexposed photography. Most kinds of it. I'm too broke to own a proper camera, though. Nevermind. I love weird, indie movies. Bollywood cracks me up. I used to be a decent backpacker. I roamed a lot around Europe. I've been told I have a strong accent from Chicago. That's weird, I've never been there. I find marvels in little things. And in big things, too. I am left-handed. I practice meditation, when I can.

I find sciences and arts equally mesmerizing. I'm a serious meteoropath. I may cry over beautiful things. Like sunrise and kindness. I listen to jazz when I cook. Or Bossa Nova. But I'm a terrible cook. Wild strawberries are my favorite fruit. I never find them around. Normal strawberries make me happy, too. My perfume is Hypnotic Poison by Dior. I never change it. I work in advertising, in the creative department. But I feel guilty about it. I also did cognitive research for a while. Now I may start teaching semiotics of advertising at the University of Italian Switzerland. I find Switzerland majestically boring. But I have sweet memories of it, too. I'm both a cat and a dog type. Yeah, I'm an indecisive person. I often tend to overthink. And also underreact. I used to self-harm. My favorite color is yellow. My least favorite sex positions are cowgirl and reverse cowgirl. I never feel a thing when performing them. But I'm fine with most of the others. Men often tell me I look shy at first, but then I'm surprisingly and overwhelmingly sexy. Dude, I have no idea. I'm sure shy when it comes to singing. So I'm not comfortable at karaoke's. I live in Italy, but I have several dream places: Cape Verde, Morocco, Bali, Pakistan, Canada, Oregon, India, Patagonia. I am slightly obsessed over flower essences. There are so many of them! If I fail at my job, I can become a Reiki practitioner. I could actually already do it. I don't regularly swallow cum. Anal sex is fine, as long as it doesn't last too long. My shortest relationship lasted one month and a half, my longest one lasted 14 years. I am attracted to different types of people, with typically recurring features: resilience, emotional agility, curiosity, general culture, effective problem-solving skills. But I am also attracted to more superficial shit, like beards and travel experience, driving ability, cooking skills, basketball playing skills, good taste in wine and stuff like that. I used to fall for rebels, now I just find them funny. I've had several crushes, but fell in love only twice. Both of them used to smoke the same brand of French cigarettes. Curious coincidence. I find emotionally unavailable people ridiculously unworthy of my attention. I have experienced death, illness and loss of loved ones. So I value people's ability to suffer quite greatly. I've never got pregnant, but I used plan B twice. I'm not on the pill, so wear a fucking condom. Tash Sultana's music makes my soul vibrate wild. Other than that, I'm into intimate acoustic indie pop/folk and various kinds of dreamy tunes, more or less. I have unresolved mother issues. Some unresolved daddy issues, too. Whatever. I'm working on it. I definitely can't draw. And my sense of orientation sucks. I am also generally unimpressed by trends. This makes me feel so old. I am often uncomfortable around kids, but deep inside I love them. I may want to become a mother one day, but now is just not the right time. I'm neither a morning person, nor a night one. Let's just agree I'm fucking lazy. I'm a playful type, who may look codependent in love. But I normally lead a very independent life. I wouldn't call myself jealous, either. Yeah, lucky you.

I have a weird fascination for ex-Soviet republics. I wholeheartedly enjoy sex, but I've also experienced sexual harassment and some abuse. So please, be mindful. I love French, Indian, Japanese, Lebanese and generally Mediterranean cuisines. Saffron is probably my favorite spice. I'm a social drinker. I used to smoke weed, but stayed high for four days in a row every time I tried. That made me feel miserable! But if you smoke, that's fine for me. I am a feminist, but I wish it didn't make sense to be one. My sexual orientation is often under debate. I've never had a doubt I liked men, but I sometimes also had crushes, physical attraction and some intimate experiences with women, too. This doesn't always happen, though, so I honestly don't know if I should label myself as bisexual. Frankly, I don't really care. l'm 5'28" and weight about 106 lbs. I have no STD's, genetic illnesses or physical disabilities. I'm myopic, if that counts. My family has a history of breast and cervix cancer, though, so I should be careful. I was born premature, three months in advance. I love reading as much as I enjoy writing. I used to collect crystals, but then I stopped. They're too expensive and often fake. I'm slightly more extrovert than introvert, at least according to personality tests. That's because I'm curious and inquisitive AF. Other than that, I'm pretty quiet. Also easily overstimulated. I've been raised catholic, but I don't recognize myself as one. I deeply respect spirituality in others, though, and I'm craving a religion that makes sense to me. I believe political orientation is mostly a matter of historical and cultural context, but I may have troubles speaking with you if you support any type of institutionalized human submission over others, in any possible world. I also strongly believe that Truth is never relative, but opinion is. That was unrelated, but I find it super fundamental anyway.

I don't consider myself special. I am a very average person. I find peace on sandy beaches. And I love collecting shells from the shore. It reminds me of my childhood.