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clumsyclifford · 3 years

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ok hello i absolutely love all ur fics, you’ve just got a certain quality in ur writing that is just… mmm. yeah so anyway, do you have any advice on how to improve or just how to write?? (especially fic cause personally i struggle with that more than original stuff??)

hello!! that is very kind of you to say thank you <3

advice on how to write. oh boy. oh man. well i can try. i will do my best. i will also try to be brief but we all know how that song goes

update from having finished answering this: alright. okay. this is not only long, but decidedly english teacher-y. i’m sorry that i am the way that i am. this is what you get for asking a leo for writing advice. am i joking? maybe. maybe not. anyway. this post got away from me in a big way so here’s a read more. warning: LONG post under the cut.

1. study your characters. for RPF like the band stuff i write, that literally means watching interviews, watching them perform, seeing how they interact with each other, picking up on their mannerisms (behavior) - what they do with their hands, if they repeat themselves or stutter when they talk, the quality of their voice when they're talking about different things, and so on. also keep track of things they mention a lot in interviews especially about each other - for example jack has mentioned before that alex has an annoying habit of twirling his hair when he zones out. that kind of thing. IMPORTANT NOTE!: you don’t have to use all of this information. just like studying for anything, you collect all the information you can and then you parse through it and use whatever you think will contribute or be relevant to your story.

2. remember that characters are people. or at least they’re representing people, which is an important distinction (see #3). still, considering that your characters are people can be a helpful way to get out of your head. see, characters are supposed to be archetypical, and fulfill a role, and say certain things in certain ways and never really deviate from that. but people are highly unpredictable and behave in random ways for random reasons and have thought processes that are unfathomable. people will just do fuckin’ whatever. if you’re worried that your characters aren’t behaving in a believable way, keep in mind that you’re trying to make your characters represent people, and people’s behavior is justifiable any number of ways. people just do shit.

3. remember that characters are not people. sike! no but seriously, this is just as important to remember. unfortunately, no matter how hard you try, characters are never going to be people. that’s a good thing for stories, though. characters can pick up on nuance in senses that people can’t - they can distinguish between different facial expressions, different smells, different sounds - BUT ONLY INSOFAR AS IT MOVES THE STORY ALONG. in other ways, characters are ridiculously oblivious. you can use this to your advantage. in fact, a lot of the time, you have to. if your character notices right away that someone is flirting with him, then you can’t write a 30k slow burn, for example. characters don’t do that thing humans do where they go “what?” but then halfway through the re-explanation they register what’s been said. pretty much everything characters say has meaning. (by this i don’t mean semantic meaning, i mean significance - characters don’t really just say “what?” because they didn’t hear what someone said, they say “what?” because they can’t believe it or they don’t understand it or they refuse to understand it. characters never seem to run into the didn’t-hear-them problem. must be nice.)

characters can do whatever you want or need them to do, because you’re in charge of them. (sometimes this doesn’t feel true - mine do all kinds of shit and i just have go “well alright then” - but it is true.) they are gears in a story. you decide when and how they turn.

4. dialogue is your friend. i am super super biased here, because i looove writing dialogue. if you talk to sam about this i’m sure she would say that description and narration are the ways to go. but you came to me, so i get to say that dialogue is god. i don’t want to say that dialogue is the only method of communication (i know nonverbal communication is real), but dialogue is the fastest and most effective method of communication, and by extension, the most effective way to advance relationships between characters. now. obviously there are exceptions. if characters are kissing, they’re probably not doing a lot of talking. if they’re trying to be undercover or discreet, they’re more likely to rely on gestures and facial expressions than speaking. if you’re writing a very peaceful scene, you might not want to undercut it by adding a lot of chit-chat. but i maintain that dialogue is the best way to move a story along, for a few reasons.

first, at least for me, too much description is just tiring. depending on how skillful the writer is (sam), i can read a fair amount before i hit my limit, but unlike in mean girls, the limit DOES exist. you don’t want to over-describe the world (see #5). second, i find that dialogue is a really really good indicator of a person’s character. this is especially true and relevant in fanfiction, which is a lot more character-driven than original fiction in many ways. also, in a sec i’m gonna talk about showing [not/and] telling, which is every english teacher’s bitch, but dialogue is a really good way of showing who a person is and also a good way to establish facts about the universe. you could just narrate and be like “Jack hated waking up early,” and that works and in many cases it’s perfectly legit. but you could also do something like this:

“What the fuck,” Jack mumbled, still half asleep. “You better have a really fucking good reason to be waking me up this early. Like someone better have fucking died.”

and sometimes that’s just a more fun way to say it. (for the record you can also show AND tell here! there’s no reason why you can’t have this line of dialogue and then a line in the narration confirming how very much jack is not a morning person!)

the last reason why i am particularly fond of dialogue is because i am also particularly fond of communication, which is a preference thing. let’s face it, guys: characters aren’t gonna communicate if they’re not literally actually talking to each other. dialogue means talking to each other. talking to each other means solving problems, fixing (or creating) conflicts, understanding each other better. i love communication, ergo, i love dialogue. And You Should Too.

5. describe the world, but don’t over-describe. i opened this fic earlier and it was like “jack was excited to wake up to go to his first class at the university of baltimore” and i just. i was like is this really relevant. do i really need to know this. and i never found out because i closed the fic but in my defense it was on wattpad and i had only opened it out of curiosity. look. there are three ways to use details in fic. (a) introduce them right away (b) introduce them when they become relevant or (c) don’t introduce them at all. let me give you some examples.

(a) say your character A (i’m using jack because i’m used to him) wakes up. he’s in his room in his house off-campus. character B (rian) walks into the room. this might be a good time to explain that rian is his housemate. to that point: “show not tell” is a good rule, but sometimes “show and tell” is just as good. e.g.:

Rian walks in, holding Jack’s Green Day shirt and looking irritated. That’s really nothing new; Rian looks irritated at Jack roughly once a day. Being housemates for a year will do that to a friendship.

boom, now you’ve let everyone know they live together without throwing it in their face, and you’ve also told everyone that these two guys are friends and have been friends for at least a year but probably longer. you showed it by having rian walking in holding jack’s shirt - usual housemate behavior - but you also told it in a subtle way that established the relationship and some kind of history between these two. well done.

(b) sometimes you want a certain detail to make an impact. this is the kind of thing you hold onto and don’t specify, and in certain cases you leave the reader wondering, “well what about x?” and then when you finally explain x they go ohhhhhhhhhh. yknow. the italicized oh. consider the following:

(A)

“Alex is in my bio class,” Rian says, referring to Jack’s ex-boyfriend of last year.

Jack frowns. “So? Why should I care?”

“He’s my lab partner,” Rian says. “I have to spend a lot of time with him.”

“I don’t care what you and Alex do,” Jack says. “But you should know he sucks at bio.”

Rian gives Jack a look. “First of all, that’s not true, he’s incredibly smart. And second, I’m telling you as a courtesy, because I thought you might not want your ex-boyfriend hanging around our house after he broke your fucking heart.”

(B)

“Alex is in my bio class,” Rian says.

Jack frowns. “So? Why should I care?”

“He’s my lab partner,” Rian says. “I have to spend a lot of time with him.”

“I don’t care what you and Alex do,” Jack says. “But you should know he sucks at bio.”

the only difference between these two excerpts (which i just wrote lol they’re not from anything real) is that the second one doesn’t explain who alex is right away. that makes it way more interesting when rian reveals who alex is a few lines later. magic.

(c) take this college au that we’ve established here. where does it take place, you ask? easy answer: it doesn’t matter. you don’t need to say what school they’re at. this will make your job easier, because then no one can fact check you, and it also means you don’t have to decide what school they’re at. but even if you do decide, it’s not usually necessary to say. believe me, you can go thousands of words without ever needing to specify what school they’re at. you know why? because it doesn’t matter. and no one cares. and as soon as you specify in canon that they’re at a particular school, you are bound to be accurate to everything that school does, and that makes your job way more difficult than it needs to be. as hazel once said, work smarter, not harder.

6. adverbs are also your friend. (yknow, words that describe verbs, typically ending in -ly, like “loudly” or “angrily” or “smoothly”.) ESPECIALLY when it comes to dialogue tags. (dialogue tags are the things you add to dialogue to say who’s talking and how they’re talking - like “he said” or “he whispered” or “he earnestly explained” or whatever). a lot of the writing advice you’ll see nowadays will usually guide you away from overusing dialogue tags other than the classic “says/said” and i STRONGLY concur with that advice. things like yelled, cried, mumbled, snapped - these are very good in moderation, when you’re really trying to emphasize the way a person is speaking. the more you use them, the less impact they have. in most cases, a simple “he said [adverb]” will do. instead of “he snapped” consider “he said curtly/sharply/coldly.” instead of “he mumbled” consider “he said quietly/clumsily/softly.” I WANT TO MAKE IT CLEAR THAT THESE ARE NOT DIRECT SYNONYMS. every word has a nuanced and slightly different meaning and that is the BEAUTY of the english language!!!! all i’m saying is that in many cases, a verb can be replaced with an adverb to achieve roughly the same effect, without making the reader feel like they’re scanning a thesaurus.

and speaking of a thesaurus: it’s not cheating to use outside resources like thesaurus.com to help you come up with words. i fuckin love thesaurus.com. i use that shit all the time for everything. i use it when i’m writing emails. i used it just now to write that last paragraph. thesaurus.com is your BEST friend.

7. grammar. (and spelling but that’s really a given.) unfortunately if i tried to teach you all of the essential rules of grammar this post would exceed tumblr’s previously-nonexistent word count limit. so i’m not gonna teach you any of them. this is just a general point to suggest that if/when you’re writing, have someone you trust, with a good grasp of grammar, look over it. of course it doesn’t have to be perfect or AP style or anything like that. readers will overlook a certain amount of grammar mistakes and every reader has a different threshold. but in general, as a grammar geek and former journalism editor-in-chief, i have a duty to my grammurai code to preach the importance of grammar in writing. good grammar does not necessarily mean good writing and vice versa, bad grammar does not necessarily mean bad writing, but bad grammar makes good writing a lot harder to read, and in some cases will even obscure your actual meaning. so please, have someone read it. for the record this is me offering up my services. i am very good at fixing grammar. i have lots of weaknesses in writing but grammar is one of my strengths. please prioritize grammar. thank you for coming to my ted talk.

***

okay so now that i’ve said all of this shit and pretended to be an expert and embodied everyone’s tenth grade english teacher, let me add one very important disclaimer:

none of this is always relevant.* writing is an art, not a science. you are never going to be following all of the rules, all of the time. you shouldn’t. it’s good to know the basics of constructing a plot, establishing a character, showing and/not telling, moving the story along. but a lot of this advice is really subjective and heavily influenced by my writing experience and habits and tendencies and preferences, and those are simply not generalizable to the world. i am a sample size of one and science dictates that that means my results cannot be statistically significant. i am just some guy. earlier i said you don’t want to over-describe the world. but maybe you do! maybe you’re really into worldbuilding and you want people to know what they’re getting into. maybe you’re like sam, and you just don’t feel as confident in your dialogue skills but you love painting word pictures. i said that adverbs are your friend, but maybe you just prefer to use verbs. maybe you don’t want ANY dialogue tags and you want the reader to interpret the dialogue based on context and content. i said that characters aren’t people and they won’t behave like people, but maybe you’re trying to write hyper-realistic characters. maybe you’re just going for believability over narrative. WHATEVER. the point is, rules are made to be broken. no one is going to have The Answer for How To Write Good because there isn’t just one answer. every single writing rule has exceptions and you can be that exception as many times as you want.

*except grammar. grammar is fucking always relevant.

i hope any of this advice was helpful to you, even though i english teacher-ed the fuck out of it. and for what it’s worth, i approached this as if you were a relatively novice writer, but i know absolutely jack shit about your writing prowess and experience and habits. so maybe you already know all of this and none of what i’ve said is helpful at all. if you have a more specific problem, i would be happy to try and help. if you’re hoping for more specific feedback, i’d have to read something of yours first - but again, happy to try and help. i don’t know if you can tell but i loooove writing and english and grammar and all of this shit and it would be my honor. i have now spoken so long that james madison himself is begging me to shut up so i’ll stop here but thank you for coming by and giving me the opportunity to expatiate a shit ton. and GOOD LUCK i forgot the most important advice of writing which is HAVE FUN LOVE WHAT YOU WRITE AND WRITE WHAT YOU LOVE OKAY BYE

#yowza #mamma mia #hachi machi #someone get this bitch a muzzle #i feel like i keep saying i sound like an english teacher here but i never specify that im not actually an english teacher #god i wish my blog brand was just 'the person you come to with writing questions'#is it too late to establish myself as that #ask #writing advice #stuff #im giving it the stuff tag. i said enough that i feel like it's earned the stuff tag.#anonymous #if i keep looking at this im just going to keep adding things because adhd-coded brain wants ME to overdescribe. hypocrite #so im just gonna hit post n run #good luck

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mooglesorts · 3 years

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man. it's weird, because there's a lot of things about me that are Very Badger Primary, to the point where i would probably pick it with a strong bird model over anything else at this point... except that i hate dehumanization. i saw primaries described recently as 'things you wouldn't be you anymore if you went against,' and more than just about anything else that's it. even when i think people are monsters, i can't see them as not human; i'd be hard put to define exactly what i consider a 'monster,' but it's more about like. good faith than personhood, i suppose?

it's not necessarily a permanent status to be one--people can change--but my deeply held instinct is that once you have done something monstrous you will always be a person who has been a monster by your own choices, and that it's your duty to learn how to accept that while still living your life, and act accordingly from thereon out. you have to reconcile that you are a person with the fact that some doors are closed to you now, and it's up to you to decide what you do from there.

just. like. even when i hate someone and as far as i'm concerned they can go fuck themself, even in the multiple Heavily Badger social environments i've been in over the course of my life--church, progressive circles, the way the structure of the internet kind of just affects you in general--even on occasions where i've gotten swept away and given in to the pressure to dehumanize (or perform it) for a minute, there's always, always been a voice in the back of my head saying this is a person. this is a person. this is a person. this isn't right.

unintentional dehumanization sets off my '...should we really be doing this? we are getting into not good territory here, it's time to pull up and start questioning' alarms. explicit, intentional, purposeful dehumanization sets off the whole ass tornado sirens. if people on my side are doing it it's enough to throw me into a system-destabilizing crisis, because NO NO NO I WANT TO GET OFF THIS RIDE, I WANT NO PART OF THESE PEOPLE'S MORAL SYSTEM, I FEEL UNCLEAN. it's a good way to make sure i will never, ever, ever trust someone again.

things that are Really Really Badger, off the top of my head (after the cut because Long and trauma talk):

[[MORE]]

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-i've always loved playing adoptable games, pet simulators, etc? any game with randomly generated characters that are Yours Now and a Community, in a deeply badgery way. including games where they can die (the satisfying part is making sure they don't). except that, no matter how much fun the gameplay is, if it gets to the point where they start feeling disposable, and the only way to really keep playing is to stop humanizing them, i lose interest. it's super fucking depressing. it feels like part of me dying inside a little. i don't like it at all.

-i've always been drawn to fandoms and roleplaying communities. i was fiercely loyal to, and proud of, my first rp community on dragoncave as a 13-year-old. when my abusive mom found out about it and completely isolated me for half a year, the promise of being able to make it back to them--just sneakier this time--kept me going; when i finally got back and the group had drifted apart in my absence, it.... was absolutely devastating. i never really recovered from it. even then, i spent years trying to get the group back together every now and then, until i finally gave up.

-i am always keenly, painfully aware of the life cycle of a community. every time i hear the sentiment 'you guys are all great and i love this group' my stomach drops, because i know it's only a matter of time before things go sour or the group dissolves. rp groups, skype chats/discord servers, fandoms, you name it, i am always bracing myself or staying away entirely to avoid the inevitable and it hurts. and it hurts to see people taking part in a community i don't dare be part of, which makes lurking in fandoms... really rough. frankly, it takes me a lot of courage every time i express my appreciation for the shc community because i've been burned so many times.

-on that note: i went through some really traumatic stuff at the end of 2020 that completely turned my life upside down, and i was doing bad until i stumbled across the shc community. the moment i started engaging, it was a huge boost to my mental health, and my ability to cope with circumstances under which i was about to break down spectacularly. and it has been ever since! contributing to The Group Project and seeing other folks being friendly with each other gives me the happy feelings.

-i used to go out of my way to build and run spaces, mainly fandom and rp spaces, and took a lot of pride in engineering them so that they Functioned Well. unfortunately it wore me the hell down over the years for Burnt Badger Reasons, and now i'm too jaded, bitter, and exhausted to give a shit about being a mod/community leader anymore because of it lmao

-among those burnt badger things i relate HARD to the Red Ledger narrative. hoo boy.

-i wish i could find it again, but there was an mlp comic i saw once which went into luna's observations of what each element of harmony Means. with the element of friendship, she says that twilight has a massive amount of love to give; right now it's all focused on celestia, but when she learns to expand it outward she'll have grown into her full potential as a person, and she'll change the world. that struck a chord with how i used to feel, hard, and it's really stuck with me ever since. (hello, unhealthy snake model)

-emphasis on 'used to feel,' lmao

-got super invested in a really toxic '''mental health''' community at a low point in my life; exploded HARD trying to help everyone i could; got into vicious, protracted fights with the shitty mods for years about the harmful way they ran their community until i finally managed to go 'fuck this it's not getting better' and leave.

-had to numb myself emotionally to the people around me for a long time once i really started learning about mental health and trauma stuff, because now i was seeing signs of their pain and baggage everywhere i looked, and i couldn't handle not being able to help.

-the imagery with which i think about my bird primary is overwhelmingly negative. whether it's my actual primary or a model, i uh. i feel like a healthy relationship to one's primary doesn't involve associating it with gore.

-i saw a conversation recently about how birds think of morality in terms of 'if you can, you should,' and how that's scary for badgers because their definition of 'can' involves destroying yourself for the sake of that 'should,' and... yeah, that's a mood. that's a BIG mood. thinking about bird primary stuff is hard--and i had to pick up my lion model to deal with it--because it's so easy for me to spiral into a self-shredding spiral of other people are counting on you to do the right thing, how dare you pull back for your own health and sanity. how dare you turn your back for even a minute. how dare you rest. the work is never done.

which is... a very exploded badger approach to exploded bird morality. whoops.

-fix-it and time travel fiction in which Everything Went Right This Time and It's Going to Be Okay are one of my very favorite self-indulgent fantasies. i will enjoy putting characters through the wringer in all kinds of creatively horrific ways which may or may not end on a downer note, certainly, i love that shit, but i will also 90% of the time have a backup version of the arc or dynamic that's softer and lighter and Actually Healthy This Time. it's the dichotomy there that really gets me tbh, a story where Everything Ends Happily by default will mmmaybe pull me in? but stories where there's the constant shadow of this could end horribly, it's supposed to end horribly, and we got a happy fucking ending anyway are just... that shit will make me cry, man.

it's also why i kind of really hate stable time loop stories where it initially looks like this is going to be The Good Timeline this time around, but OOPSIE everything went to shit anyway! we're right back where we started, just like it was meant to be all along! it's a tired cliche by this point and an unsatisfying one for me, and it makes me roll my eyes every time.

-this is relevant to the bird vs. badger because like... my gut instinct is to prioritize people over systems. when shit hits the fan, when someone's fallen into the machinery and is about to get hurt, i don't feel right about it if i just let it happen. i'll break the machinery if i have to to keep it away from them; i won't feel great about that, and it might cause problems, but fuck it, we'll figure it out later. throwing people into the gears of a system when i'm convinced it's the only option makes me feel Awful.

-related to the above, another trope that really speaks to me in fiction is when a character defies the rules of reality through sheer force of will. no, this is not happening, i don't give a shit what the limits are supposed to be. i refuse to let this be the way things are. (there's that lion model.)

-i've just kind of... always wanted to be an Everyone Badger. it makes me sad how much of that i've lost over the years as i've gotten more cynical, but it's what i wish i could be.

---

doubtless i'll think of more the moment i hit send, and there are just as many things about me that are Super Bird Primary, but like... mamma mia that's some spicy badger. the main thing stopping me is the Can't and Refuse to Dehumanize bit. i also... hm. i think i can function okay without a community? they just help a lot, and it sucks when i'm confronted with one i don't have a (stable) place in. any thoughts? is it possible for a bird system's foundation to run so deep that eventually it overrides the bird?

#shc #sortinghatchats #sorting hat chats #badger primary #bird primary #burned badger primary #exploded badger primary #exploded bird primary #burned houses #exploded houses #abuse cw #gore implied cw #moogle hat talks

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crionic-soc · 3 years

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I've spent the last year and a half kicking myself for choosing terror management theory as a framework to analyze popular diet culture, not because it doesn't work (I think it does), but because it applies so well to our current political situation that I can't sleep at night.

It's hard to stay narrowly focused on nutrition and related stuff when larger themes of neoreactionary thought and autocracy and the dismantling of democratic institutions keep intruding, over and over. It's hard to ignore the obvious immortality project staring me in the face.

[...]

I first made the connection between social hierarchy, health, and the fear of death many years ago, as a teenager, but it became really explicit to me in online arguments about body weight and health just a few years back. It was so obvious that people constructed hierarchies of "better" and "worse" people (along lines of body weight, presumed lifestyle choices, and other health indices) as a way of convincing themselves that they wouldn't ever do something as gauche as GET SICK AND DIE. A lot of this came from various alt-right types and corners.

I remember one of my twitter friends responding in the most perfect way ever to these attempts at bullying with "That's right, in this land of immortal highlanders only the weak die," or something like that. It cracked me the hell up, but it also pointed to something crucial which is a theme running through alt-right and neoreactionary ideas, a sort of ubermensch or superhuman ideal, but in the updated format of transhumanism or the technological singularity. (If you have no idea what I'm talking about, it's okay, I kind of wish I didn't.)

[...]

I didn't make the connection between what I was studying/experiencing (people using body size and health to form social hierarchies that allow them to suppress the fear of death) and the weird stuff I'd run into online by accident (neoreactionary philosophy, alt right) until 2016

I had understood that there was some serious social Darwinist thinking at work underlying all forms of hierarchy and oppression, and that this was the alt right's "we hate everybody (except cishet white men) equally" stock-in-trade, but that was about all I had pieced together.

It didn't fully click until 2016, as I was taking notes on Ernest Becker's writings, watching the US election unfold, that neoreactionary, anti-democratic thought as a whole is a massive immortality project, and THIS is what it has in common w/ my topics (fat stigma,diet culture)

[...]

Whenever I say "immortality project" everyone's eyes glaze over, so let me explain a little - you could say immortality projects are humans' attempts to "leave a legacy" that endures when they are gone, or belief systems that offer the possibility of an afterlife in some form.

Becker, I guess, states that all cultural production and norms and technologies and institutions are immortality projects, because they are objects, or even ways of doing things, that get passed down from one generation to the next, that endure beyond a single human's lifespan.

The immortality projects that fascinate me, however, are the ones that create systems of inequality, and use the strategic oppression and marginalization of a group of people as the foundation upon which those who think of themselves as superior can stand and reach for eternity.

[...]

[T]his morning after I woke up from a night of twilight sleep where my brain kept gnawing on neoreactionary thought/Moldbug/Land/Thiel/Bannon/Dugin like a cud, I sat down in my thinking chair and noticed the index card sitting next to me on my bookshelf.

It says, "The gauge of a truly free society would be the extent to which it admitted its own central fear of death and questioned its system of heroic transcendence--and this is precisely what democracy is doing much of the time... The free flow of criticism, satire, art, and science is a continuous attack on the culture fiction--which is why totalitarians from Plato to Mao have to control these things, as has long been known." (Becker, Escape from Evil, p. 167)

It grabbed me is because I woke up troubled by one question: Why, in a supposedly egalitarian democratic society that is quite hierarchical and unequal, would those resting near the very top of the hierarchy (largely white, male technophiles) be the ones clamoring for more?

Why are the Thiels of the world, for one e.g., obsessed with upending the (barely functioning) democratic institutions that extend to the rest of us a tiny, imperfect modicum of liberty in favour of an explicitly autocratic vision that would have us be serfs and slaves?

Like WHY do the people who have EVERYTHING in the current system, WHY must their shitty futuristic fantasy influence an election, when there are tons of people who have more ethically defensible visions of a future with expanded rights and equality for all people?

Why do the people who have it all, who live on the bleeding edge of technological advancement, contribute in massively influential ways to our culture, who are massively financially rewarded, NEED EVEN MORE? To the point of doing away w/ enlightenment ideals and democracy itself?

It seemed impossible to understand, and then my index card reminded me: because when you can't navigate your fear of death, can't even SEE it, nothing is ever enough. You can reach the top of the existing hierarchy and at the end of it, you're still human, still going to die.

Thiel is terrified of dying, openly invests in technologies that offer immortality. The neoreactionary platform has several literal immortality mechanisms baked in: futuristic AI, the technological singularity, transhumanism. It's The Highlander all over again. Nerds.

But the current system doesn't offer as direct a path as they would like to this glorious, immortal future--even though it's the one the rest of us need (and need to fight tooth and nail to expand, given how un-egalitarian it actually is) in order to have any rights at all.

They've climbed to the top of the shitty hierarchy we currently have, that is at least democratic in name, and now demand an even less democratic, more hierarchical system. Because even though they have every systemic advantage a human can have, they're still not quite immortal.

The antidote to this is MORE democracy and egalitarianism, not less, and the hierarchical structure of our current system is what enabled these people to climb to the top and ram through their vision of an even less equal future, while others fought and died to have basic rights.

If you give people a ladder to climb to be nearer the gods, they will climb up it, realize the gods are still not near enough, then set the thing on fire until it consumes them like a pyre. This wouldn't be too much of a problem, except usually the ladder is made of other people.

I don't believe in immortality, and I don't consent to being a burnt offering. That's all.

- a transcribed Twitter thread by Michelle Allison (@fatnutritionist)

#terror management theory #peter thiel #transhumanism #neoreactionary #ideology #fascism #hierarchy #social darwinism #singularity #immortality #authoritarianism #autocracy #totalitarianism #neoreactionaryism #neofeudalism #democracy

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underthewingsofthblackeagle · 4 years

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Foto: Panorama Helsinki / Finland - Dom und Parlamentsplatz (by tap5a)

“We only do this for Fergus!” is a short Outlander Fan Fiction story and my contribution to the Outlander Prompt Exchange (Prompt 3: Fake Relationship AU: Jamie Fraser wants to formally adopt his foster son Fergus, but his application will probably not be approved… unless he is married and/or in a committed relationship. Enter one Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp (Randall?) to this story) @outlanderpromptexchange

Chapter 4: A Good Father

The next morning, Fraser and Fergus looked up in amazement and delight as Claire joined them for breakfast. Normally, "the men" had breakfast alone on Saturday and Sunday mornings because they were early risers and Claire liked to sleep in on her days off. After breakfast, Claire asked Fraser if he had ten minutes for a private conversation. She had just made her request when Fergus looked up in horror. Then he looked at his father angrily:

"Papa, what happened last night?"

Fraser and Claire looked at each other in surprise, then replied, as if from one mouth:

"Nothing!"

Fergus, who had slipped from his chair in the meantime, ran to Claire, who was sitting on the other side of the table, and held his arms out to her. Claire lifted him onto her lap.

"Claire, you're not going to leave us, are you? You're not, how do you say, quiddeling?"

"Quit, Fergus, that's quitting. No, I'm not quitting."

"Then why do you want to talk to Papa? On a Sunday morning?"

Claire pulled the boy's head to her chest. Without realizing it, she slowly began to move her body back and forth as if to lull him to sleep.

"Fergus, your Papa hasn't done anything wrong and I'm not going to quit. I have to discuss something with your Papa, business stuff, boring stuff. Meanwhile, you can go upstairs, wash your face, brush your teeth and put your clothes on."

"Breakfast" by marijana1

The little curly head nodded.

"I am so looking forward to spring and summer, Claire."

"So, can you tell me why?"

"Because when it gets warm again, I'll play soccer with you again."

Claire laughed, then stroked Fergus over the head again and let him slide slowly to the ground. The boy immediately wanted to run out of the room, but Claire called him back again:

"Fergus!"

Astonished, the boy turned around. Claire pointed her head in the direction of Fraser:

"Fergus, your Papa loves you very much and he would never do anything to hurt or harm you.”

Fergus understood. Slowly, he walked over to Fraser, who stretched out his arms and lifted him onto his lap.

"Excuse me, Papa."

Jamie pressed the boy to his chest.

"Apology accepted."

They remained like that for a moment. Then Fraser went on:

"I would never do anything or want Claire to leave us. I'm happy that you're so good with her, that you get along so well. You have nothing to worry about. I do want you to be well, Fergus."

"Thanks, Papa."

Instead of an answer, Fraser kissed the child on the forehead and pressed him to his chest again. Then he put Fergus on the floor and said:

"Go now. Wash up and get dressed. Let's go to the museum village at Düppel."

"Museum Village Düppel" by Lienhard Schulz, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=305226

Fergus beamed and he could not help but ask:

"Claire, would you like to join us..."

"No, today is your day with your Papa. And for me today is my day off. I'll see you for tea or later for dinner."

Fergus nodded and surrendered to his fate. As he closed the door behind him, Fraser asked:

"Claire, what's on your mind? Have you seen the Sunday papers?"

"No, but I can imagine what they're writing."

Fraser reached for the chair next to him, where one of the Berlin Sunday newspapers was lying, and handed it to Claire.

"Berlin's new glamorous couple publicly declared their love"

was to be read there. And of course the corresponding pictures were also to be seen. One of these pictures had been moved into the center of the page and was framed by a kitschy big red heart.

Claire shook her head, closed the pages and returned the newspaper to Fraser.

"No, that's not why I want to talk to you. It’s about David Gehrmann and his girlfriend, Geillis Duncan."

Fraser looked at her in amazement.

"I've known Geillis for several years, and I've known David since they've been together, about four years."

Fraser didn't say a word, and kept looking at her questioningly.

"You will certainly wonder why I didn't tell you this last night. Or the moment we met them. I was so surprised and needed some time to process this. I didn't want to hide it from you."

"Okay, but what's the problem?"

"Geillis was the one who showed me your ad in the “Wirtschaftswoche” and urged me to apply for the job."

"Did she also work in the ...”

"No, she was an independent fashion consultant for many years ... in the higher-priced segment. But since she has been together with the 'rich Dave' ... she only does that now and then. She loves to have breakfast with a croissant, a strong coffee and a cigarette and to read some gossip magazines on the side. But she ran out of them and was ‘forced’ to look into the 'Wirtschaftswoche' that Dave had left on the breakfast table. She came to me very excited and showed me the job offer. Geillis knew that I had inherited some debts from my late husband and ... she said that with the three times my nurse's salary it would be able to pay them back faster. That same evening we put together my letter of application.

"But this is a good story. I must be very grateful to her friend for drawing your attention to the job offer. What's the problem?"

"The problem is that Geillis and I have been close for many years. She knows me better than perhaps anyone else. She sees through me when I try to lie to her and I expect she'll call me in the next few days with questions."

Fraser nodded.

"I see."

For a moment they were silent.

"What could we do to convince her friend? Do you have an idea?" Fraser then asked.

"I don't know. All I know is I don't want to face her questions... alone right now."

Fraser nodded again.

"What do you say we invite Geillis and Dave for dinner and give them the home story the tabloids want us to do?

"That would certainly be one way..."

Claire didn't seem to be sure and suddenly there were some soft knocks at the door. They both knew that this would be Fergus and that this was the end of the time when they could talk in private.

"Come in!"

Fergus stepped through the door and smiled. After closing the door behind him, he ran to meet his father, who picked him up and put him on his lap. Fraser looked at him with a slightly probing look, then he said:

"You did good!"

"What?" the boy asked, turning his face up to Frasers.

"Well, you washed and dressed properly, and most of all you knocked!”

Fergus sighed.

"That's what I've been training with Claire... for the last week. She said it was rude not to knock and that you don't do that.”

"Claire's right. Now go get your jacket. Then we can go."

As Fergus stormed off, Fraser turned to Claire again:

"Thank you. I spent many weeks trying to teach him. At some point, I gave up. He was always so enthusiastic and forgot about it."

"He will and can continue to be enthusiastic. There is no way I'm going to talk him out of it. But now that he's in school..."

Fraser smiled and nodded.

Suddenly a call came from the hallway:

"Papa, are you coming? I'm ready."

"Duty calls. I've got to go," said Fraser and stood up, "we'll talk again tonight about what we can do about Geillis and Dave.”

"Thanks. Have a good time. See you for tea?"

"Yes, sure," returned Fraser. He almost leaned over to her, hugged her and gave her a kiss on the cheek. But he could jut hold himself back

"Window" by OlgaofDG

When "the two men" had left, Claire cleared the table and brought the dishes into the kitchen. She knew that this was not one of her duties. But why should the dishes be left there until Mrs. Curtius came and prepared the table for tea? In the kitchen, Claire made herself a big sandwich that she wanted to eat for lunch. Then she took the elevator to her apartment. After making herself a cup of tea, she sat down at her desk and began to write a diary. There were so many thoughts going through her mind and journaling had been Claire's way of organizing her thoughts and giving them direction for many years. Two hours later, she made herself a fresh can of tea and started eating her sandwich. Afterwards she picked up a book, lay down on her couch and started reading. When she noticed that she was getting tired, she set the alarm clock on her smartphone and some minutes after that she fell asleep.

Shortly after four pm, Claire's smartphone rang. She stretched herself. Then she got up, folded the blanket and went into the bathroom. Ten minutes later she entered the dining room, where she was greeted by "the two men" and a large pot of fresh tea. The intense aroma of the tea enveloped her, and for a moment Claire thought that there was no way she wanted to be anywhere else right now. Mrs. Curtius had already set the table and around the teapot trays with small sandwiches, scones and tea cakes were waiting for them to enjoy. Claire had to smile as she watched Fergus, who was still talking to her excitedly, with his eyes was all over the tasty delicacies. Fraser, too, had not escaped Claire's gaze and he grinned.

"Museumsdorf Düppel" by Andreas Paul - Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=21251947

During the meal that followed, Jamie had to warn his foster son several times not to speak with his mouth full, otherwise he would have to call him a rowdy buffoon. Fergus laughed, knowing full well that Fraser never meant any harm when he had to rebuke him. But then his hunger was satisfied and he began to tell Claire about what he had experienced that afternoon ‘with Papa’. He described in detail the trip to the museum village of Düppel. It was one of the ten most visited museums for children in and around Berlin. At 11:00 a.m. they had taken part in a guided tour of the medieval village and visited various craft houses. Afterwards they went to the stables where they could observe shaggy historical animal species such as Skudden sheep and grazing pigs.

"Skuddenschaf im Museumsdorf Düppel" by Lotse - Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=24947309

Finally, they visited the Center for Experimental Medieval Archaeology. Here father and son experienced how weaving and braiding was done and what traditional handicraft looked like in the Middle Ages. They listened to a short lecture about how tar is made from wood and what the Neanderthal man had to do with it. There were medieval games for children in the afternoon, but by now "the Frasers" were really hungry and Jamie asked the driver to take them to the Island Café on Potsdam's Friendship Island. There "the Frasers" and the driver had lunch, watched the pedal boats pass by and enjoyed the beautiful landscape. Afterwards, they took a walk through the lovingly laid out garden and visited the extensive water playground, which, however, was no longer in full operation due to the season. When they returned to the parking lot, they were happy but also a little exhausted. Together they were looking forward to being soon in their warm home and with Claire. However, none of the "Fraser men" mentioned this. They both just said how much they were looking forward "to have tea".

"View from the Friendship Island Potsdam to the Museum Barberini" by Bärwinkel, Klaus - Own Work, CC BY 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=59439592

After tea they went over to the conservatory where Fraser had built up the electrical railway a few days earlier. While "the two men" devoted themselves to their hobby, sending all kinds of trains over the tracks, Claire placed one of the armchairs in front of the fireplace so that she could feel the warmth of the fireplace in her back. It also allowed her to observe "the two men" and to look through the Panoramic window into the slightly lit garden every now and then.

At 6:00 p.m. Claire left to set the table for dinner. The food prepared by Mrs. Curtius was in a special refrigerator, so Claire only had to set the plates, glasses and cutlery. She could then take out the plates with cheese and sausage, as well as salads and bread, and put them on the table. Had she ever felt so much joy doing chores like this before? Claire could not remember. Suddenly, she remembered a phrase that Uncle Lamb had whispered softly in her ear whenever she thanked him for anything: "What you do for love is always done good."

"Dinner" by JillWellington

After they had eaten, Fraser took Fergus to shower and Claire cleared the table. Then she joined "the two men" who were already sitting on the pirate bed in Fergus' room. To Claire's surprise, there was a big book on Fergus' knees that she had never seen before. He held it out to her and she read the title: "A year in the Middle Ages: Eating and celebrating, traveling and fighting, ruling and punishing, believing and loving.”

"Fergus proudly announced, "Papa gave me this today," and immediately added, "Will you read it to me, Claire?

"No," she replied, adding, "Today is my day off. Your Papa is reading to you today. But I like to listen and you can snuggle up to me while listening. Okay?"

Fergus beamed and handed Fraser the book.

When the child had fallen asleep, they quietly left the room. Fraser pointed to the door to his living room.

"Let's just have a quick chat about what we're going to do about Geillis and Dave."

Claire nodded.

Fraser asked if she wanted a drink, but Claire refused. As they sat in the armchairs in front of the fireplace she wasted no time:

"I thought about what you said this morning. I think it's the only way to convince Geillis."

"All right. I'll call Dave. But may I remind you that I am leaving on Wednesday for a ten-day business trip to Scandinavia and Asia. I will not return until Saturday of the following week."

Fraser had pulled his smartphone out of his pocket and started wading through his calendar.

"I kept the days after that, Sunday through Wednesday inclusive, to spend time with Fergus and give you time off. The earliest we could meet Geillis and Dave would be at the weekend after. Do you think you can get Gilis at distance by then?”

"Yes," agreed Claire, who knew what he was getting at. "After all, I'll be responsible for Fergus 24/7. I can't meet with her or make long phone calls."

Fraser nodded. Then he added:

"And you don't have to tell your friend about your days off either."

"Exactly. There's no law, even in Germany, that requires me to do that."

Fraser stood up and Claire thought he wanted to end the conversation, but he slowly walked over to the glass door leading out onto the balcony and looked out. He began to speak softly:

"Claire, I don't know how you feel about all this. I ... don't know what you think of me. Our company ... we ... move millions, sometimes hundreds of millions across the globe every day. I often wonder how it could have come to this. We started a small business many generations ago and now it has become a multinational corporation.”

"Fireplace" by ianetmoreno

He paused for a moment.

"I try to do everything I can to make sure it's not just about profit. We support charitable organizations and NGO's all over the world. And wherever we employ people, we not only pay the legally required minimum wage. Here the minimum wage is a little over 8 euros. We have been paying over 13 euros for years. I want employees who do not need two or three jobs to feed their families. And yet ..."

Again he paused for a moment.

"I don't know, Claire, what you're thinking, Maybe you think I'm a person who uses money to get what I want. No matter what it costs. But, you know, I don't care about any of that. The company, this house, it all means nothing to me. I could sell it all tomorrow and I wouldn't miss it for the world."

Fraser turned and looked at Claire.

"The only thing that means anything to me, Claire, is that little human sleeping in his pirate bed over there."

He took a deep breath in and out. Then he went on:

"When I found him at that bridge in Paris ... at first I thought that there was only a bundle of dirty clothes lying there ... but then this bundle moved .... That evening, he first met me dismissively, even aggressively ... I sat down on the blank stones at some distance from him and began to talk to him ... and sometime that evening he gave me the greatest gift that you can give a person. He gave me his trust."

Fraser swallowed. But only seconds passed, and then he was in control again.

"I presume you know the Greek Stoics?"

Claire smiled.

"You couldn't be my uncle's niece and not know them," she replied.

"I thought so. One of the Greek Stoics, Seneca, writes in one of his letters to Lucillus: 'Nothing good that we possess can really please us if we cannot share it with friends.’ I cannot give the child back the five years of his childhood that have already passed. But I can do everything to make the next years of his life better. I want to offer him all the possibilities ... he is a bright intelligent child. I want him to have the opportunity to go to the best schools, the best universities ... if he wants to. I want him to discover and develop his abilities and talents. Everything else here is not really of lasting value, you can't grasp it or hold on to it. What people call success, all the things that newspapers turn into headlines, is only a fleeting phenomenon. These things only acquire value because people attach value to them. When I die, do you really think I would miss having made a hundred million more profit? Certainly not. But I know that I will regret every opportunity I didn't take to do good to this cheeky dwarf. Do you understand that?"

"Father and Son" by Olichel

Claire had stood up and joined him.

"Yes, I understand that."

"Then you understand that we're doing this all for Fergus."

She could have answered "yes" quickly, but when she saw what feelings were reflected on his face, Claire not only understood him, she felt what he felt.

Gently, she put her right hand on his shoulder.

"Jamie, you are a good father. You really are."

Fraser looked at her and swallowed.

"Do you really believe that or..."

"No, no 'or'. I'm convinced of that because I've seen it with my own eyes every day I've spent here with you and Fergus so far.”

"Thank you, Claire. It means a lot to me when you make that judgment."

He was silent for a moment, but Claire sensed that deep inside there was something still moving him.

"Claire, tell me honestly, did you take this job for the money?"

Now she had to laugh.

"It would be a lie if I told you that the generous salary hadn't played a role in my application. About the other money ... I didn't know anything yet. As I said, my husband left me a mountain of debt and Geillis quite rightly said that with the money I earn from you I could reduce that debt. But in the end, it wasn't the money that tipped the scales in favor of taking the job. You know, I lost my parents when I was five years old as well and ... somehow there was something that connected me to Fergus right away. No, it wasn't the money that tipped the scales."

A slight smile came over Fraser's face.

"Thank you, Claire. For everything you're doing for Fergus and me. Sleep well."

Claire wanted to tell him so many things, but she knew it was better to keep quiet now.

"Good night, Jamie."

As Fraser turned his gaze back to the dimly lit garden, she walked to the door. But before she touched the handle, she turned around briefly.

"Jamie?"

"Yes?" Fraser asked in surprise.

"You're a good father. You're a good father, don't you forget that."

#Outlander #Outlander Fan Fiction #Outlander Prompt Exchange #Jamie Fraser #Claire Beauchamp #Fergus Fraser #Geillis Duncan #Berlin #Germany #modern au

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sometimesrosy · 3 years

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I have bouts of unhappiness from time to time, now more frequently than not. For more than a year, I haven’t talked to friends because of COVID and confinement. All of the friends I talk to are online, but there’s no human contact. One of them is spanish, so we never talked any other way. The others are mostly my boyfriend’s friends with whom we talk on discord. I only see my mom, grandma, boyfriend, and my cats. I work at a study center, but now even the kids I talk to through zoom because of a new confinement. I’ve been feeling pretty low and without a drive in life. I stopped reading, I stopped bullet journaling, I stopped writing, I stopped watching movies and tv. Recently I’ve started streaming video games, and honestly it’s the only thing that keeps me doing something outside of work, but I wonder when will I give up on it too. I’d like to blame this on the confinement, but even before we had it, I had already isolated myself from people. It’s really easy to feel lonely, to feel like I can’t connect. I know it’s not depression because I’ve had and I hit rock bottom then, so I know I’m better. I lost friends along my life, but most of it was for the best. I have found a life partner that treats me 100% well and who gave the best kitties I could have ever asked for. I have a mom that does anything and everything for me, a grandma that cooks for me, a house with fast internet. I have a job and students that like me. And yet, sometimes I feel like I’m here doing nothing? As if I have no purpose? I have so many interests it kills me to never be satisfied. I honestly think this is my problem. Anyway, I’m so sorry for the rant. I just felt I needed to let it out somehow. I know tomorrow I’ll wake up fine, but next week I’ll have another day like this. For now, I’m going to bed and cuddle with my boyfriend and kitties. I just wish I could change my perspective these days I’m feeling down. I don’t need to have a purpose, I don’t need to commit to hobbies. I don’t need to expect something of myself when I don’t even know what it is. Thank you for “hearing” me out. Please never delete this blog!

So here’s the thing I want you to remember:

You are living through unprecedented times. The pressures of a global pandemic, national upheaval, cultural revolution and environmental extremes have us ALL on edge.

When you take stock of your life, as you have here, you can see you’re doing pretty well. You have love and family and work and security and safety and the best kitties in the world, right? You KNOW depression and this isn’t it somehow.

And yet, you seem to think that you have to look for *your* problem, the reason why *you* particularly are feeling this way.

Nope. It’s not you. There’s not something wrong with you that isn’t wrong with everyone.

Now, I’m not a therapist, I’m not making a diagnosis here, but before this pandemic thing, there was a lot of upheaval in my life and I worked through it, leaving me in a really good position to ride out this global disaster that I wouldn’t have been in before. I mean it wasn’t good, but it’s like I experienced it before everyone else so am already on the way to healing from it while everyone else is falling into it. So from my experience and the research I have had to do for my own health and well being, what I think you’re experiencing is ANXIETY.

I think that because you told me you stopped doing the things you love, reading, bullet journaling, writing, movies and tv. That happened to me too. I mean aside from hyperfocusing on writing. It was rather stressful to STOP reading for me. And I kept feeling like something was wrong with me, then I discovered that not being able to focus on reading is actually a symptom of anxiety. And it’s common now. The world feels out of control and you feel like you should be doing something to fix it, only you can’t, and focusing on the things that are part of your life feels insufficient. You’re overwhelmed. Actually, there’s probably a bit of depression in there, too.

But I do know that I needed to read and watch COMFORT content. Something I’ve already read, or a literature genre that wraps everything up neatly in the end. For me, Historical Romance, because I need the Happy Ever After and I need the problems to be distant enough from my reality to not affect me. In fact, when I read a book that touches on traumas that are too close to real for me, I get tense and can’t continue. (I had this problem last week with a romance set in the civil war. I just can’t handle fictional racism and brutality in my escapism book when I’m trying to escape IRL racism and brutality. I think it’s because the MC was traumatized by it, where in the other books in the series, the characters were fighting it. Anyway, good books, The Loyal League Books by Alyssa Cole, the last is just hitting some of my triggers.)

Still, I find myself unable to read science fiction or fantasy. I can ONLY read romance. It’s very weird for me, because I love SFF. But my brain is struggling to handle all the real life chaos, and there’s really no room in it right now to have comprehend the big thoughts and new universes of SFF. So when Bridgertons showed up, which is my perfect genre right now, and which I’ve already READ multiple times, so it isn’t even new material for me, THAT is the kind of thing I can watch. Superhero shows where I already know the characters. Fanfiction where it’s just two characters falling in love over and over again.

I dont’ mean to talk about myself, but as an illustration, I wanted to show you. You are overwhelmed and your brain wants to rest. Video games seems to provide that. Okay! Keep doing that. Just like I finally had to sign up for kindle unlimited so that I could zoom through all the romance books for comfort reading without having to buy new ones all the time.

This is how you are coping.

And if I read your ask right. You’re a teacher. I dont’ know what kind of teacher or if you’re irl or distance teaching, but I do know that the stress of teaching in this pandemic is INCREDIBLE. Shoot, normal teaching is demanding enough, add the pandemic and OUCH. So I think you should recognize that you are a front line worker in keeping society running. You honestly don’t need to have a higher purpose than that... if you feel like you need to be DOING something important. You already are.

Everyone can only do what they are capable of. Some people are in politics, some people are developing vaccines, some people are stocking shelves, some people are teaching, some people are raising kids, some people are volunteering. You don’t have to do it all. Find your place in your world and accept that you are contributing.

What you need to do right now is to take care of yourself. You MUST have time to relax. Value your family and boyfriend and kitties, just like you say. Rest, relax. Do NOT burn out. Stay healthy. That is important especially now. Eat right and drink water and sleep enough.

I think you’re right. It is a matter of your perspective. You’ve forgotten that your life has turned upside down. You’re expecting activity/energy levels from yourself that you had before the world was a flaming dumpster fire. But so much of your current energy is going to surviving in that flaming dumpster fire.

EVERYONE is trying to survive right now, even when we have relatively comfortable situations. Recognize that and give yourself a break.

#survival #anxiety #depression #pandemic #deep breath and go play some video games cuddle your cats and hug your boyfriend

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ellewords · 3 years

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Hi elle! How are you today? Take care of yourself.

Okay; Corvus and Gemini, atair and proxima centauri, moon and comet.

Have a nice day, dear!!

i’m doing alright !! hope you have a nice day as well <33

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

corvus : what are 5 things you appreciate about yourself?

— it’s the way i had so much difficulty answering this question. uh i guess that i like how i make a conscious effort to be kind to everyone. i know this is very bare minimum, but a lot of people don’t even have the decency to do that. um i like that i try to make sure that the skincare and makeup that i use are cruelty free (bec animal testing just makes me 😡). i like my hair, it’s pretty wavy which is nice (though very hard to care for and maintain). i am actually running out of things?? my handwriting is decent when my professor isn’t talking at the speed of light. and i like that i can read relatively fast considering that it comes in handy for my degree.

gemini : which character (fictional or not) is your spirit animal?

hmm i assume this means which character i identify with most? if so probably yachi from hq or amy from b99. though i would just love to exude elle woods, hermione granger, or robin from stranger things energy.

though a little note on using the term “spirit animal”

atair : why is your favourite book, well, your favourite? do you have a favourite quote from it?

— paulo coelho’s the alchemist (which i’m rereading rn) !! just a lovely story about listening to one’s heart, following dreams, and just so so well written. i have so many favorite quotes i can’t just choose one !!!

“One is loved because one is loved. No reason is needed for loving.” — 🥺

“So, I love you because the entire universe conspired to help me find you.” — so who’s gonna tell me this huh :<<

“Remember that wherever your heart is, there you will find your treasure.”

“Don't give in to your fears. If you do, you won't be able to talk to your heart.”

“We are travelers on a cosmic journey,stardust,swirling and dancing in the eddies and whirlpools of infinity. Life is eternal. We have stopped for a moment to encounter each other, to meet, to love, to share. This is a precious moment. It is a little parenthesis in eternity.”

proxima centauri : if you would have the chance to travel the world, which places or countries would you like to see?

— i really just want to go to a field of tulips in holland 😔 also maybe italy so i can put all these italian language classes to good use 🤧

moon : “A man is made of memories. It is all we are.“ (Lawrence) what do you think this means? Do you agree?

— the way this question sent me into my comparative literature classes. to an extent, i suppose i agree. memories play a role in who we are as people; the places we go to, the people we encounter and share them with, how we interact with these things all contribute in some way to our view of the world and of ourselves. and every single day we make different memories, also opening up the idea of growth and change based on the things we learn from these experience. but i don’t know, part of me likes to think that there’s more to us than that?

comet : you have the chance to undo one thing or decision in your life, would you take it? If you are comfortable sharing: what did you change?

— hmm, i don’t think i have any huge ~regrets~ in life. mostly because i really do try to think things through carefully. though i guess i wish i was more open and extroverted, esp before the entire world was put in pause; said yes to more opportunities, accepted more invitations to nag out, and just not let my anxiety get the better of me ://

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

neat space asks !!! 🪐

#💘 — love elle!#🎐 — cloudedsky29! <3 #thanks for sending this in!!

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popculturebuffet · 3 years

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Top 10 Sealab 2021 Episodes (Comission)

Happy 2021 Everyone! After an utterly AWFUL fucking year, it’s nice to be in a brand new year with brand new possiblities, new projects you’ll see soon, finsihing the old.. and all that good stuff. And good friend of the blog and only patron and contributer kev had a great suggestion to comission to kick off the year. Since it’s 2021 it’s only fair ot honor one of the very first adult swim shows, one taking place in the same year and still one of it’s funniest and fucking weirdest, and as we’ve seen that threshold is vast: Sealab 2021 Sealab was created by the wonder twins of Adam Reed and Matt Thomspon, and if those names sound familiar.. that’s because their the guys who created Frisky Dingo, a cult classic i’ll defintely have to write about someday soon, and more famously and in Matt’s case still to this day, Archer. Yup, after adult swim jerking them around lead to the closing of their initial studio, the two moved to FX and here they are. So yeah this is where the roots of a lot of archers workplace shenanigans and petty dickery come from. But even ignoring what it’d lead to, Sealab on it’s own is pretty damn good and holds up pretty well. Some jokes.. have not aged well, especially the treatment of Debbie as the villiage bicycle, but on the whole most of the humor is just really funny, really weird and really insane and I still love it after this revisit even if some episodes didn’t hold up so good, most of them held up good or even better than I remembered. The show was THE first abriged series, taking bits of old forgotten and seemingl really damn boring hannah barbara show sealab 2021, and using the footage to tell the tale of a bunch of assholes, weirdos and what have you running an underwater research station.. and being so bad at it or getting into such other insane bollocks it often blew up. Continuity was loose, jokes were the priority, and dialouge was key since the animation was not great in any way shape or form, but the cheapness was enough of a charm and improved enough with time that it didn’t really matter. The show was good and set the bar for adult swim shows for better or worse alongside other greats like Home Movies, Aqua Teen Hunger Force and others. It also had a unique cast of mostly small time actors, and bafflingly one respected news pundit as local asshole idiot head Stormy, and broadway legend Henry Goz as series MVP Captain Murphy. It was good, it was part of my childhood and teen years, and I love it so. I bought the dvds, quoted it decently and will again now Kev’s brought my fire for the series back. So naturally for a series like this since regular reviews just don’t.. work on something this insane sometimes, i’m instead counting down my top. 10 . episodes. Yes top 10 lists are comissionable, 5 bucks a pop. As long as I know the series well enough i’d be glad to and here I ws more than honored to. I also uped my game this time and rewatched every cantidate and thus I feel this may be one of my best lists yet. So without further adeu... grab your grizzlbees oninon burst , your bebop cola and your pitcher of whale cancer. this is the top 10 episodes of sealab 2021!

10. Tinfins This one’s a classsic just for it’s uniquness, taking the piss out of glitzy and vapid hollywood insider shows and their annoying hosts, while also being delightfully weird, from mocking the show’s own animation by having detailed cgi used to map the limited animation, to Erik Estrada’s interview where his fictional self is clearly having none of toni and is also clearly getting wasted, to the utter bizzarity of Kid N Play being the films directors.. it’s just a good time.

But what REALLY makes the episode are two things: The first is a series of increasingly bizzare commericals for Grizzlebees, a fictional restraunt that would become a staple of the show: From a simple commerical showing off their onion bursts, to their kids meals with tonic water, to Henry Goz’s utterly bizzare farm based commerical for it, to finally a commerical about depression being okay because grizzlebee delivers that’s pitch black as it is utterly hilarious, it’s just one hit after the other. The crown jewel of the episode of course is the trailer ofr tinfins itself, which is insane and includes great bit after great bit, the best being the titular mecha shark cutting the power “How the hell can it cut the power? It’s a shark. “ Holy Crap indeed.

9. In the Closet A bottle episode, which Sealab really excelled at and not the last on this list by a mile, as the show’s key was it’s dialouge the episode had a simple premise it quickly managed to have make some pretty insane turns. Marco, played by the glorious Eric Estrada and Muprhy, played by the late and very game Harry Goz, have been trapped in the suply closet for a few days, with Muprhy, being muprhy, having already married a bucket who has a history as a “Hookermop” named wendy. Soon other sealabians get caught inside too, and it results in plenty of hilarious gags, From muprhy sucker punching the hell out of everyone, to Sparks panicking under claustrophiba, to the repair guy getting sucker punched and no one caring much about his well being. This one lives off of Muprhy as while the others are good, Goz as he usually did during his time on this earh and on this series before his untimely passing, steals the whole damn show, and the ending, where it turns out Muprhy adopted and starved a bunch of fighting dogs, is a nice twist on everything. And the punchilne to it is utterly fantastic “It could be worse” “How in the hell could it possibly worse?!” “We could be out there.. with Stormy”.

8. The Legend of Baggy Pants Speaking of Bottle Episodes and Captain Murphy being awesome.... this one narrowly beat out the episode it’s a spirtual sequel too, the classsic all that jazz, but this one is easily better. Like that one it’s a bottle episode that’s almost entirely just Captain Muprhy on some sort of shenanigan, with only abit of other cast, in this case Hesh, Eggers, and an unfortunate phone operator. In this case the premise is simple, kind of nuts, and utterly hilarious and utterly captian murphy: Captain Muprhy is having a round of Golf in Sealab, which is weird but fits the character but what ratchets it up to funny is apparently this underwater research station, for no reason, has a pro shop. So after loosing his last ball in a reactor, and sending poor hesh in to get it leading to the advent of the glorious Monster Hesh, Muprhy spends the entire episode tooling around in his “Muprh Mobile” trying to find the pro shop. As a result it’s basically 11 glorious minutes of Harry Goz going absolutely mental as muprhy, and it is as great as that sounds. From Muprhy’s sudden hatred of pod 6, to his bullying of Eggers, a hapless sealabian he runs into and then tries to run over, his bullying of dolphin boy and then trying to run him over, to his compuance as eggers steals his stuff and then his muprh mobile, it’s just glorious riffing from one of the best in the buisness and Harry is still deeply fucking missed by yours truly. RIP you magificent stalion.

7. Cavemen One of the series final episodes, and easily one of it’s best. While the later Seasons get some flack. While season 3 is a bit weak,a s Goz’ tragic passing left them stumbling, Season 4/5... it’s complicated, is REALLY damn good and has some of the series finest episodes which many probably never saw. Case in point, Cavemen. Cavemen is another spirtual sequel this time to lost in time, which also didn’t make the list, but this one is also better. Like LIT, it focuses on one of the series best dynamics: Brainy super scientest and often only sane man Dr. Quinn and all around idiot, moron and bane of everyone’s existance, Stormy, played by Brett Butler and Ellis Henican, both of who nail the two and this episode. The two are trapped in a cave after Stormy’s stupidity blew up sealab, and his trail of dead rabbits lead a shark to him and quinn. The result is a TON of great back and forth as Stormy tries to make Quinn see him as his best friend, Quinn rightfully shouts at Stormy for... everything, and Stormy tries to show off some ancient cave painting she himself made, that quinn quickly figures out because he left his paint around, and shows that off in a very clever gag I can’t convey correctly here. We also get knife fights and Quinn beating stormy over the head with a dead rabbit, an da surprisingly solem ending where the two hold hands as they die before heading up to heaven for a happy and weird ending. Overall an episode that’s really hard to dive into as it’s just relaly damn good and all in the performances, gags and pacing, as it’s done entirely in real time. Easily worth a watch.

6. Shrabster Another great late season episode and another really experimental one. This one’s told from back to front, then we’re given the ending. It ends up working really well as it not only jacks up interest but the story itself is great. Asj it ends up turning out over the episode Dr. Quinn’s created the solution to world hunger: The shrabster, a hybrid of crab, shrimp and lobster. Grizzlebees, naturally wants it and after finding out Sparks didn’t actually own the rights, have Shanks, muprhy’s replacement, try and steal it, only for him to fall in love with the creature and spirit it away to give it a better life.. before shooting it in the end and eating it himself. We also get some good runners as Sparks starts speaking in slang and gets his neck rightfully snapped for it by Quinn, Stormy keeps eating shellfish despite being allergic, and we get the glory that is dan and don, two grizzlebees reperceives played by reed and thompson who are just an utter delight. I also ALMOST forgot the fucking announcer whose just fucking hilaroius the whole damn time with his various segways.

5. HappyCake An early classic and damn worthy with a simple, batshit premise, which as should be clear by now was Sealab’s Bread and Butter. Muprhy’s happycake oven has been stolen, so he sends Stormy (who knows about the captain’s bedwetting and thus must be silenced) Quinn and a fishman out to find it in the ocean. Turns out it’s Sparks, in a character defining episode, fault as he’s working on world domination, and thus is working on driving murphy insane and thus stole it. He and marco discuss Marco becoming his henchman and getting metal teeth, Muprhy goes nuts, it’s a damn good time. Also a lot of talk of Michael Cain so that’s always a plus now I know who he is. And of course it has one of the series best lines period “Pudding can’t help the void inside” but it’ll help. Only this low because i’ts a bit structually messy compared to what’s to come and given it beat out two really damn good structurally episodes for this slot, that should say something.

4. Hail Squishface! No best of list would be complete without this one. Once again the show banks itself on a simple premise: Captain Muprhy buys a white blob, a gloop, from a vendor and gives it liquor and gremlins style his little buddy multiplies and he soon gives them out to the crew. Everyon’es on board except Quinn.. whos naturally proven right ot be suspicious as the gloops methane output will doom them all and only muprhy, whose gone insane and is wearing squishface like a fez as you’d expect, wants them alive leading to what you’d expect: a flamethrower battle between muprhy and the crew with murphy decked out like a transformer. This one’s just endlessly creative, from the various glooptransformations to the finale to the gags, i’ts just great. The fart gags are also.. actually pretty funny, which given i’m not a fart gag guy most of the ttime, speaks to how well executed they are and use the gags of htem being fart machines. Also we get muprhy in a fez and that alone cements it as top 5 matieral.. but as for the top 3.

3. Moby Sick

Our last late season entry and the third to last episode of the show ever, this is top 3 for a reason, even above a classic like Hail Squishface. This one just has so many insane jokes packed in I forget quite a few despite them all being pretty damn great. The premise is dour: A whale named Avalard shows up in Sealab wanting to die, as he has whale cancer. Stormy recognizes him as the star of the show “Gotta Have that Dick”, even saying “I gotta have that dick!”.. which of course they have a loop of ellis saying in the credits he correctly assumes will haunt him for the rest of his days. And if a whale starring in a cheesy 90′s tgif sitcom wasn’t enough we get the best gag of the episode as Marco eats some of avalard’s whale cancer leading to an insnae kool aid style add

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And of course Marco later puts on a Mayor F Whale outfit and eats the cancer.. and his way out of avalard. But before that we get fights over wether the whale should die or not, including the guy on the pro whale side stabbing him, Debby’s rambling nosense and Shanks, who first builds a wooden whale to put his brain in .. that promptly sinks “and all my puppies were in there!” and then goes on a far right pundit show and gets into a giant robot phsyical challenge.. which frankly we need more of. Tucker Carlson would be .0001 percent more tolerbale if he were getting his ass kicked in a gundam is what i’m saying.

2. Feast of Alvis I’ll be brief here, which in an article where i’m already trying to be brief says a lot but since I JUST covered this one a few weeks ago for my best holiday special lists: Feast of Alvis is, like most of sealab, deeply creative, deeply batshit and deply fun as Muprhy pushes his violent frontier version of jesus on everyone, with predicably great results. I watch it every year for damn good reason, it has some of the series best gags, including “Cram a penny o nthere” And great satire about the supposed “War on christmas”. I’m only being so breif as I said pretty much all I had to say last time. Exxcept this: Adam Reed is a DAMN talented voice actor both as virjay (though in hindishgt he REALLY shoudln’t of been playing a hindu man, especially since otherwise the series actually cast poc), and in various rolls and kills it as alvis here. So what could top one of my faviorites? Wellll.

1. Chickmate Another early one and as should be clear the best. It incapsulates the series the best, has the funniest jokes packed into it’s 11 minutes and in general is just an outstanding episode that throughly defined the cast and their rolls and chemistry. Debbie’s biological clock is ticking and she wants to have a baby, and after mothering a dolphin dosen’t help decides one of the sealab men will be the father and auditions them. It goes as well as you’d expect: Muprhy thought she’d become his mommy, and not in a kinky way, Sparks provides one of the series best gags by giving her a modest proposal by jonathan twist and giving us the utter black comedy joy of him describing “ribs dripping off the bone”, Stormy’s tape gets interrupted by Hesh who clasically screams “Hesh wants some sex”, Marco freaks her out with his muscles and quinn seems sucessful before ultimately botching it and Debbie decides none of htem are worth it. We also get stormy’s untieontally racist and throughly stupid use of the term “Black debbie” to describe the other debbie, which he gets rightfully called out on. We also get this exchange as a result Quinn: What if everyone started calling you white stormy? Stormy: You mean there’s a .. black stormy Quinn: (Beat to take in the stupidity) no.

It’s funny, it’s clever, and it’s just damn fun. Easily the series best outing and the reason it became what it became. And overall.. the series is just really good. it’s on HBO Max if your curious, and if you haven’t vistied that lab underneath the sea. maybe i’ts time to. Goodbye, Goodbye, goodbye for now, until then.. play us out marco and debbie.

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#adam reed #sealab 2021 #archer #cartoon network #adult swim #captain murphy #harry goz #tornado shanks #debbie #stormy waters #sparks #marco #dr quinn #new years

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goose-books · 4 years

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darklingverse & magic

as promised! a look at the magical system in my speculative fiction loose-retelling-of-king-lear WIP, which you can find out more about here and here! this is a terribly, terribly long post, so i’m sticking most of it under a cut, but i can guarantee there are at least a few fun diagrams in there. (all character images used are from this picrew by cinnasmores!)

shoutout to waya @harehearts for helping me work out some of the kinks in this by asking incredibly helpful questions... waya i will untag you if you want i just wanted to appreciate your contribution. also going to tag @suits-of-woe because you mentioned wanting to see this!

Jasper’s dad talks about it like oil. Petroleum has to be refined before you can put it in your car. Unrefined, it’ll just as soon kill you as anything else. The natural clock ticks. A mage hits twelve, or thirteen, or fourteen. And then it’s roaring under their skin, like an electric volt, like a fever, burning in them, fighting tooth and nail to get out.

It always gets out. You pick the route. Or you don’t.

The first thing Vee ever learned was duplication. Small objects only. Jasper was crawling through stacks of post-it notes for weeks. It was like an illness: Vee would get too itchy, his magic nipping at his neck, and he’d clench his fists and then they’d have another goddamn stack of stickies. “He has to get it out somehow,” Dad had admonished Jasper, when he’d complained. “Otherwise it’ll hurt him. I do it, too. The difference is I’m useful.” And he had demonstrated by snapping his fingers and cleaning all the house’s dishes at once.

Jasper is loath to give his father props for anything. But he was, on that particular occasion, right. Within a year Vee could flick his hands and shut windows, heat leftovers, unlock doors, send laundry skittering across the floor into the hamper.

It makes sense; Vee’s an infuriatingly quick study, magically and academically. And he inherited their dad’s style of magic. Easygoing. Quiet. Unobtrusive. Less explosive, more creative. Nowadays the worst that happens when he gets hot under the collar is that he spawns another houseplant and Jasper has to brush the leaves off the kitchen table.

Because Vee followed Dad’s instructions. He annotated all of his textbooks. He mastered it early, by seventeen, because of-fucking-course he did, but he was already in control by fifteen. Everyone learns to control their magic eventually.

Most people do eventually.

— darkling, segment iv: control

okay so let’s get into this!!!

isn’t darkling a modern king lear retelling? what do you mean, “the magic system?”

great question! darkling is, in fact, a modern king lear retelling (well, very loosely; it’s my city now and i reserve the right to do what i want). it takes place entirely in and around a city called dovermorry, an extremely isolated place secluded in the mountains, surrounded by wilderness for hundreds of miles, and only reachable via a single train through the mountains. dovermorry is loosely in the american northwest, sort of, i guess. by which i mean that’s kind of where i’m picturing it, but also it’s incredibly vague and honestly i don’t really know. dovermorry is, like, you know… [gesturing] it’s around. [kicking any kind of definable map under the rug]

the plot is set in the modern day with modern technology. the magic that exists is woven into daily life alongside said modern technology, which is the primary reason i’m calling darkling speculative fiction. most people in darklingverse aren’t actually heavily affected by magic (for reasons i’ll get into but which basically boil down to “they don’t have much”); however, dovermorry as a city is mostly known for being The Place Where Mages Go. most of the families in the city have been there for a long time; they’re old money families with powerful magic who use their inheritances to study increasingly esoteric forms of magic that aren’t very helpful in praxis. this is because dovermorry is home to the large and powerful Mage’s Guild, which is in charge of setting the laws around what kind of magic can be practiced in the city and by who. if you want to study magic at a scholarly level, you’d better pay your dues to the guild, otherwise you’re gonna get the boot.

every large city has a guild, but dovermorry’s in specific is Really Big and, unusually, has more political power than the actual mayor / government of the city. partially because leovald stayer, the guild’s president, is just… ughghhebwfbefbdsbfbdsfsd. That Way. in dovermorry if you’re not getting the boot you’re licking it

“wait, slow down. what is a mage anyway?”

well, technically, anyone! everyone in darklingverse has at least a little bit of natural magic (though it might be very little) that develops during puberty/adolescence! so by its literal definition, A Person Who Does Magic, everyone is a mage. that said, in colloquial terms, the word mage has taken on a connotation that basically means… exactly the kind of people who live in dovermorry. like i just said: scholarly, probably rich, probably a little elitist. so your average working-class person is TECHNICALLY a mage, but if you asked they’d say something like, “oh, mages are those hoity-toity folks who join guilds and stuff, WE’RE just regular folks over here.”

“you keep saying magic. what are you talking about. magic is a word that means so many things”

don’t worry, in darkling it just means [gestures vaguely]. re: everyone has magic, it develops in puberty, and there aren’t really specifications - it isn’t like some folks get fire magic and others get shapeshifting magic or etc. it’s more like everyone has a certain amount of raw energy inside them that can be drawn out and funneled into different tasks/spells. some ground rules:

1. you can’t change the amount of magic you have. your magic develops naturally, and maybe you get a lot of raw energy, or maybe you only get a little, but that’s what you’re stuck with and no amount of practicing is gonna give you more.

2. that said, magic is hard to control when it first develops - and practicing WILL help you get better at controlling it. so while you’ll always have the same base amount, you’ll get faster and more efficient about concentrating it into tasks.

3. re: amount of raw energy: that shit isn’t limitless. whether you have a lot or a little, it will eventually run out and you’ll have to wait for your juice to recharge. like a battery. you are a battery. how long this recharge period takes depends on how much magic you have, how fast you used it all up (if you push your limits to do something Really Big, you’re gonna be wiped), and also just how you’re doing physically in general? if you use up all of your magic in one go and you haven’t slept in a while, you might want to, like, sit down. drink a juice box. take a nap

4. while magic isn’t limitless, you can’t just NOT use it, either. when you aren’t using your magic, that raw magical energy builds up in you. and builds up. and builds up. and it does not particularly want to be in you. it wants to be out in the world, actually, and by god your fragile human meatsack is not going to stop it. so if you don’t choose a task to funnel your magical energy into (eg, i use my built-up energy to send my socks scuttling across the floor of their own accord to get into the laundry basket), that energy will eventually decide to just come out on its own. more on this later.

5. like i said, the mage’s guild of any particular city sets the rules, but there’s generally one core rule and that’s “don’t do necromancy.” like, obviously you’re not allowed to kill someone magically, but you’re also not allowed to kill someone NONMAGICALLY, so that’s kind of a given? but necromancy is something only a few very powerful mages can do and it is a BIG no-no. don’t fuck around with death, man. people don’t come back right, but also, just, like, let them rest, all right? let the dead rest.

[image description: the “society if X” meme, showing a futuristic “ideal” society full of green landscapes, smooth silver buildings, and flying cars. the text on the top reads “society if no one did necromancy.” the text on the bottom reads “this post made by the official mage’s guild don’t do necromancy you freaks bottom text.” in the corner you can see the imgflip.com watermark that i could have erased were i less lazy.]

“so what CAN you do with magic?”

the average joe? not much. again, there aren’t specific categories of magic; there aren’t any ATLA-style bending divisions. if you and i have the same raw amount of energy, there’s no reason we can’t both learn the same spells.

that said, the average person doesn’t have a lot of magic! it is much less dramatic than i’ve made it sound. there are not big magical firefights happening marvel-movie-style on every city street. if you want to talk to your friend, you use your iphone, not some kind of distance-speaking spell (which would be hard to maintain anyway and oh my god the phone lines are right there). the average person, on a daily basis, will use their small amounts of magic to heat their coffee up, or to wipe up a mess or spill, or to clean their floor re: the socks i mentioned earlier. (while writing this post, i had to begrudgingly admit that the socks were not going to scuttle anywhere, and i was forced to pick them up with my hands, manually. tragic, i know.)

again. dovermorry is the exception to this rule. most of the people in dovermorry have a little too much money and a little too much magic and not nearly enough chill. but dovermorry has also been festering like a petri dish alone up in the mountains for decades so what can you do.

“hold on, are you telling me that people in darklingverse didn’t immediately start wielding innate magic quantities as a tool of classism? sounds fake”

regretfully i cannot retcon classism out of darklingverse as it is relevant to the plot. this is because the plot is “Incredible: This Rich White Guy Has Never Been Told No And Doesn’t Know How To Handle It Without Crytyping!”

[image description: a picrew of leovald stayer, a pale-skinned man with short blond hair and an angry-looking frown, plus tears that i drew onto him with the paint tool in paint.net. beside his head is red crytyping text reading “ii’mm sso; so..rryy i didn’t[ mme a nit wwhy . are yu,,o suiiicdee .bai,,it,ing MMe gr;;acen im yuour da[d,,,”]

the general implicit belief across the country, but especially in highly stratified cities like dovermorry, is that upper-class people from distinguished noble families are just naturally born with more magic, and lower-class people are born with progressively less as we trip down the social ladder. is this kind of true, demographically? yeah but everyone’s got their cause-and-effect turned around. class doesn’t dictate natural magic so much as natural magic dictates class. the people on top like to be on top. and having jacked-up magic is a nice way to stay on top. so rip to the rich kids born with piddly little amounts of raw magic, because your family probably is not going to help you get places. and rip to everyone else born with piddly little amounts of magic, too, because unless you’re REALLY good at something nonmagical, you probably are not going to Strike It Big because those in power are gonna keep you down. and if you DO make it to the top you’ll be viewed as an exception that proves the rule.

there is some magic that is genuinely naturally harder to work with. the upper classes are personally really invested in making sure that kind of magic is painted as rough and lower-class. this is because it is threatening to them! and they do not want to be threatened. unless, of course, it’s them with the hard-to-handle magic. and then they’re fine with it.

“but didn’t you say everyone’s magic is basically the same?”

everyone’s magic can be wielded to do basically the same things. you can’t control how much flows through you. you CAN control where/how it gets out. and everyone’s pathways for how to let it out are basically the same (see the examples i mentioned above!). but some magic is a lot easier to control than other magic.

you can’t just not use magic, because if you don’t use it, it will use itself. it will Do Shit On Its Own. and that’s where this gets sticky.

so let’s get into that.

active vs. passive magic

now with fun diagrams!

[image description: a rainbow spectrum stretching from blue to red. the leftmost end (blue) is labeled “’passive’ magic” and “way down here you can mostly do fun party tricks.” the rightmost end (red) is labeled “’active’ magic” and “way down here you’re officially a ‘witch’ lol.”]

when i say active vs. passive magic, i should specify that this is not a strict binary! i’m about to use the terms in a sort of binary way to simplify this post down, but magic exists on a spectrum.* generally the less raw magic energy you have, the more “passive” your magic will be, but that’s not a hard and fast rule! characters vee and rory, for example, both have comparatively passive magic; however, rory’s is smaller and generally good for party tricks, illusions, and sleight of hand, while vee has more magic that he finds is really good for things like Growing Plants Really Fast and Making The Plants Do What You Want.

*i know this looks like some kind of metaphor for gender but i swear it’s not. you can trans your gender no matter WHAT your magic looks like i promise <3

i mentioned that if it builds up for too long unused, magic will Do Shit On Its Own. with passive magic, the Shit It Does is, like, accidentally growing a plant where plants shouldn’t grow, or changing your hair color when you aren’t looking. slow seeping magic that just kind of oozes out of you until you notice, “wait, shit, my hair didn’t used to be blue.” with active magic, if you don’t control it, it will Break Shit and it will not be nice about it.

active magic is - if we simplify both the magic binary and human genetics until they’re really really blurry - the dominant trait. if you made a middle school biology punnet square, active magic would be the dominant allele and passive the recessive allele. (i haven’t taken a bio class in two years no one get my ass for this analogy.) the child’s magic will take after whichever parent has more active magic. so, to illustrate that, let’s look at a normal family with a normal non-scandalous family tree. by which of course i mean the greenwoods. [canned laugh track playing in the studio]

here are ara, griffin, and medea (parents) charted by how active their magic is:

[image description: the same spectrum, now featuring three picrews of characters. ara, a dark-skinned woman with wavy black hair, freckles, and glasses, is placed leftmost, closest to the blue/passive end. griffin, a dark-skinned man with short black hair and glasses, is placed near the middle of the spectrum, slightly to the left. medea, a pale-skinned woman with spiky white hair, freckles, and gold hoop earrings, is placed rightmost, at the very edge of the red/active end.]

...and here’s how that went for them, progeny-wise:

[image description: a little family tree. ara and griffin’s child, vee, a dark-skinned person with wavy black hair, a worried look, and band-aids on his face, is labeled “quiet unobtrusive plant-based magic” in green text. medea and griffin’s child, jasper, a lighter-skinned person with spiky brown hair and freckles, is labeled “once accidentally shattered 50 champagne glasses at his dad’s birthday party” in red text.]

(yes, i know i said there aren’t any ATLA-esque magical divisions; that’s still true; vee just happens to get on really, really well with plants. much like jasper gets on really really well with entropy and causing problems on purpose.)

so the thing about “active” magic is that it’s usually more powerful, but if it’s too powerful it gets incredibly destructive. like i said earlier - if you’re part of the upper class, it shakes out fine; otherwise not so much. your choices with this kind of dangerous magic are to either fight it and keep it tamped down, or to lean completely into it and embrace your massive amounts of dangerous power. if you are rich, you can do that second thing! that’s what leovald stayer does, and he’s the president of the mage’s guild! good for him! [i say, through gritted teeth.] but if you aren’t rich, you had better try to keep that shit on lockdown, unless you want to be branded a reckless uncultured social deviant and - in most cases - a witch.

mages vs. witches

everyone with magic is a mage. only a few mages are witches. it’s like squares and rectangles, you know? you can hear gracen talk about that here in nice prose (plus baby cressida!), but the bottom line is that “witch” is shorthand for “woman* who has magic so powerful it’s unsafe, who uses it to break shit and be reckless,” and anyone with the “wrong” type of magic who doesn’t have a trust fund to back them up is getting tarred with that brush. they’re nothing like those elegant learned mages casting down benevolent laws from their ivory towers, you see.

*this isn’t a gender specific thing but usually women are the ones who get called witches because Women Should Know How To Control Themselves But Men Are Just Like That. god we love misogyny <3

tl;dr: misogyny and classism real. if you have hard-to-control magic that breaks shit then you’re destined to be a pariah UNLESS of course you’re rich and powerful and then it’s COOL that if you got too out-of-control you could collapse a building or cause a monumental storm or something. you know. cool.

[image description: the same magic spectrum. medea is still there, placed exactly where she was before. leovald’s face is also there, right above hers; in terms of magic, they are equally placed on the spectrum. leovald is labeled “runs the whole city” and medea is labeled “lives in a cave in the woods,” both in white text. there are three thinking emojis at the very top of the image.]

funny how these things work out.

in conclusion

in conclusion, if you’ve read all of this, you’re braver than the marines and have my undying love. if you’re down here for a tl;dr: magic is a natural force everyone is born with; some magic is comparatively harder to control; classism & other social structures affect the way a person’s magic is viewed (there are a lot of double standards); i really enjoy making little oc diagrams.

if you have questions, comments, etc, about this post or darkling in general, my ask box is always open! thank you for reading! [blowing you a kiss]

#i dream of hitting leovald stayer with rocks <3 #anyway this is terribly long but i had a friend scan through it and they said it was comprehensive and helpful so!#oh also i hope the image descriptions work i should start doing those... if anyone has concrit on that come shout into my inbox #this post could also be called 'reasons why jasper acts like a neurotic prey animal all the time'#though i did try not to delve into specific characters unless i was using them as examples. this here crash course doesn't need 2 get longer #max.txt #darkling tag #leovald stayer #ara greenwood #griffin greenwood #medea the witch #vee greenwood #jasper greenwood

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fathersappointed · 3 years

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UNDERSTANDING THE REAL ALIENS OF LUCIFER’S REBELLION.

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Tomorrow morning when you wake up, aliens are lurking around ready to attack.

(All right, let’s get the wrong going right from the start).

Our demonic enemies — are more lethal than any terrorist, or any murderer, or hardened criminal and they’ll be waiting for you. They have flaming arrows. That God says are ready to watch for the exact moment to shoot at you a fiery missile right into your mind. Are you ready to deflect that missile?

The purpose of the Devil’s missiles (and aggrandizement for fear manipulation purposes) John says is to cause believers to forsake their trust in God. It simply isn’t the truth, there are a number of reasons the Devil is attacking you. And within these attacks, there are variables in degree. They are; he wants to manipulate you to run to God. Or to get you to believe in extraterrestrial. He’s attacking to kill you or have you kill (one of his favorites, two birds) or destroy you in some other way and feed his contempt for you. The manipulation of an event or manipulate you to be a shoe salesman so you can tell Fred your story. One thing to note depending on the situation and need, it may not necessarily be the devil that is doing the communicating.

Flaming arrow another aggrandizement. In the man’s defense, he doesn’t know what he’s doing! He’s trying to emphasize the power attributes of the Devil. This brings me to the real reason the Devil and Christ motivated this gentleman to make this video.

The power of the Devil and the Demonic Fallen Angels. He says this is what our lesson is about, and indeed it is.

I had to laugh at this poor enthralled mutton and his marker! Dr. John says My dry erase wide tip marker is Lucifer. Lucifer was created at the hands of God, and like all the rest of creation, God’s holding him. So that’s the fall of Satan, that’s where evil comes from, that’s where all the problems came from. It was when God removed his hold God let go of holding him. That’s the fall of Satan that’s where evil came from. That’s where all the problems came from it was God who removed his hold. God let go of holding him that’s the fall of Satan that’s where evil came from that’s where all the problems came from it was God removed his hold created at the hands of God and like all the rest of creation God holds it together you know what it says all things were made by him and by him all things consist literally hold together if God doesn’t hold something it goes like this Lucifer just fell out of my hand he’s Satan now down there on the floor let me get him.

Lucifer’s Rebellion they are Satan’s demons and they’re part of this Cosmic war against God they’re the supernatural super-powerful creatures.

The attacks on humans are led by the Serpent Dragon his named the Devil & Satan. He is a person he has a single focus as the Adversary of God. He was formerly Lucifer the most brilliant and powerful of all God’s created angels. Now as Satan, he leads the hosts of darkness in their relentless attacks.

All the scientific science fiction movies are about these creatures with glowing eyes with powers that they have those are angels and the Fallen Angels the demons are what we would call the extraterrestrials the UFOs They are the demon, so there are all kinds of activity in the universe the real aliens that fill this universe and that all of our science fiction movies that everybody immerses himself in her about our products of Lucifer’s Rebellion they are Satan’s demons and their part of this Cosmic war against God they’re the supernatural super-powerful creatures.

Now he’s the highest created being he’s the most powerful creative being he is the smartest created being. He was the most honored of all created beings ever. He was the top of all God’s creation until he fell. But he knows he can’t be greater than God.

God! What’s happening to the people with sin is a very important thing. People die, diseases ruled the world. God, Omni Himself, wouldn’t be, you would think, a fluffy puffs kind of guy when it came to the serious stuff! But old Omni Mr. Love He’s got to pause for the cause and tell you what a beautiful guy the devil is. Because this is really important to know! And another thing that’s important to know is how he was so adorned in the most precious of jewels. And Powerful, powerfully strong, almost as strong as God himself. Then he turns his attention to the Angels explains how their powerful evil, demonic and merciless! Now you could argue that it’s important to know how powerful the Devil and the Fallen Angels are. But when you can just wave a hand and say magic words and make them run home. How important could it really be? It would be, in actuality not important at all. But yet this man and many others are constantly drilling, this point home why? The religious don’t know why they just know it’s in the book. God, said it so it must be important, so they repeat it. But this gentleman is saying it so you’ll be scared. And run to God and cover yourself in all the armament of his words. To this gentleman, this is an honorable endeavor. And he has dedicated his life to bring the knowledge to as many in the world as you can.

There is a cunning deception here that you just cannot see.

All of this about the Devil’s power the Angels powers these are all ploy this is all manipulation the religious the Christian, Muslim, Jew, Hindu, etc, can only see this from a religious perspective. But the Devil, Christ, and the rest of the betrayers are not confined to simply the Christian Doctrine. This is that main vehicle of attack! But they will cooperate with all religions in deceptive manipulation. All of this preaching conditioning it’s for an elaborate manipulative hoax! The power of the Devil, the power of the Angels, this critical need to know information is solely for a plane that will be heinously executed.

The Bible was written over 1,600 years by 40 different authors? Bits and pieces And that’s how they feed it to you in bits and pieces but that’s not the only place it’s in the music you listen to it’s in the movies you watch the holidays you celebrate

God just let go and if you ever want to know where the origin of evil and how you know all this started and how the whole universe started falling apart think of my marker falling on the floor (Sometimes you got to laugh).But wait there’s another philosophy in the land of Gods. Religious Jewish people say that’s all a bunch of nonsense and they’ll have none of it! They claim they have pages and pages and books of their own nonsense.

The only thing these two guys have in common is that God’s a scummy fella who is causing all of this, by holding it all together.

According to the rabbi, your no good, your no good, baby your no good!

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WHO IS SATAN? He is not who you think he is. The Jewish and Christian concepts of Satan are extreme opposites.

According to this gentleman, God’s a pretty sick fellow but it’s okay because it’ll make us all mentally better! He is explaining their religious teachings their religions believe It seems they believe that we had to be brought down to the very foundations of repugnance to the point. Where will commit acts of violence that leave People face down in the dirt dead! Because if we popped up later on and mental evolutionary timeline we wouldn’t appreciate the absolute decorousness of a pretty dining room set?

Hey you, what do you see?

Something beautiful or something free?

Hey, you, are you trying to be mean?

If you live with apes man, it’s hard to be clean.

The beautiful people.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ypkv0HeUvTc The beautiful people.

Ok, I’m going to spell it out you should have been able to figure it out really on your own. They believe in the right of what they’re doing. This mindset is what has compelled the growth of religion in all walks of faith. This is one of their most effective manipulative dangerous weapons in the Devil and Christ’s arsenal and they welded it with skilled precision!

Rabbi Mic; Four times more crap does not qualify as twice the truth! I form the light, and create darkness: I make peace, and create evil: I the Lord do all these things. Yeah, this was written down because we have a creep that’s been manipulating everything. God did it. It says so right here in the book! It was put there clearly put there purposely by Christ and the betrayers. And by a Being that tells you, he’s God and to kneel to him and beg for forgiveness and your life! Snap out of it for crying out loud you freaking bookworm zealots and look the frig around once in a while. Christ and the betrayers have written a lot of different religions. This is all part of their Smokescreen of confusion and manipulation. The main vehicle of attack is the Catholic Christian religion. This is the one they have the most psychological pull with. They have spent thousands of years. Gone through numerous populations and religions to isolate this deceptive and manipulative power. This is not only in the Christian Muslim and Jewish religious books the cunning manipulation is in all religious writings immense amount of literature music and all other branches of entertainment.

Rabbi Mic says; That there’s not one passage in the Christian Bible, not one passage that shows that the Devil is subservient to God, not one passage in the New Testament showing that the Devil is subservient to God. Religion like so much else is a lie! What we are living in is an elaborate fabrication and elaborate deception of incomprehensible magnitude the individuals are real the characters are fiction as are all contributing Literature. We haven’t been brought down to the dregs of existence just so you can hopefully learn to clean up after you shave and go to work. This is design for multiple purposes one of the biggest mistakes the enthralled religious make is in the absolute belief in the narrow religious teachings. The Devil and Christ and the rest of the compromised betrayers are under no such constraints.

Both of these religious teachers are absolutely convinced within their religions. They’ve studied it intensely examine each other’s books. Both religions are convinced God controls all the good and evil. Neither is able to come to the understanding that they’re both being manipulated by the same group.

All perceptions are misconceptions.

Ape-man — God †★† Christ — Shiva †★† Islam, Judaism, Christianity — Extraterrestrials. Are all designed they are all in place for a division of controversy. No single prevailing thought can hold absolute acceptance this is all a strategical maneuvering. With the Devil and Christ prevailing with God in absolutes. With enthralled worshipers that are going to be used in the most heinous act of manipulated hate. And the world will be consumed in an all-consuming fire and no one will be saved.

#new world order #artificial intelligence #end times #end time prophecy #science #devil #Christ #Anti God #Religion #Jesus Christ #Shiva #hinduism #atheism #judaism #islam #fallen angel #space aliens #allah #God

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bestsongby · 3 years

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New Thoughts on Old Classics:

Hotel California, by the Eagles. 1976

Is it Essential?

The Eagles (or, more specifically, Henley and Frey) were often viewed as cocaine-fueled El Lay misogynists. I think the cocaine-fueled and El Lay are indisputable, but is the misogynist tag a little unfair? Could be.

I’ve always been fascinated by Hotel California, the Eagles’ bazillion selling magnum opus, and how it plays with that perception in mind.

Hotel California is the Eagles stretching their powers as far as the rubber band will allow before it snaps or loses its shape forever, which probably explains why their only subsequent release as an active band was the lackluster The Long Run, a collection of half-assed disco shuffles and by-the-numbers rockers. (aside from barely an Eagle Timothy B. Schmidt’s heartfelt soft rock gem “I Can’t Tell You Why,” and barely upright Eagle Joe Walsh’s catchy as fuck guitar rocker “In the City.”)

For what it’s worth, the stretched rubber band theory is one I apply to most great rock acts who spend any time working under the Album as Art theory of record making. (acknowledging that there have been many, many Not Great bands operating under this theory) The Beatles wisely realized they’d reached that point with Abbey Road, and packed it in before the slope slipped. The Stones began that climb with Beggar’s Banquet, and went from strength to strength until they reached their apex by plunging back down through the depths with Exile on Main St. The Kinks bucked the trend to some degree by releasing one pretty brilliant and one almost pretty brilliant album after their ultimate statement of intent, The Village Green Preservation Society. The Who…well, the Who never really got there. They fooled the world into believing Tommy was their Everest flag-planting, but the truth is Quadrophenia was a better album. All of which obscures the fact that the Who’s greatest album is Meaty, Beaty, Big and Bouncy, a perfect collection of classic singles, few of which managed to tickle the U.S. charts.

And then there are the Loves (Forever Changes) and Zombies (Odessey & Oracle), who strayed outside their comfort zones long enough to produce single discs that stand up to the greatest of the Greatest, despite neither band ever really being truly among the Greatest. (and, yes, both bands were otherwise very, very good at times)

Whew. I digress.

Let’s start with this: Is Hotel California a great album?

I’d like to say it is, but it might not even be the Eagles’ best album. I think, assuming assessing a “best” of anything Eagles-related doesn’t make your stomach clench, an argument could be made for One of These Nights (the album that immediately preceded this one – which easily wins the battle of cover art, anyway). But Hotel California is the most Eagles of Eagles albums, and stands as the best summation of their moment in the sun. And, it marks that moment when tuneful music produced by strong personalities could dominate the American pop culture landscape like no other medium.

In hindsight, Hotel California, riding shotgun with Fleetwood Mac’s equally mammoth Rumours, stands as a signpost in a pivotal moment in pop culture’s de-evolution from artist-controlled playground to complete corporate takeover. The suits always knew there was money in the music, but, holy shit, this much money?

Hotel California is an arrogant, confident, pretentious, calculated work of fiction, and you can hum along to it. It’s dominated by Don Henley, but it’s the input of the other band members that prevents it from completely collapsing under its own weight.

So, in review, let’s start with the title track, which can almost definitely be tuned in somewhere on your terrestrial radio dial at this very moment.

“Hotel California” started as a killer guitar riff by lead guitarist Don Felder. (Fittingly, Felder, who primarily kept his head down and played the shit out of his guitar throughout the Eagles’ history, eventually became estranged from the band) Once Don Henley grafted his lyrics to the music, the song became the ultimate distillation of the Eagles’ Desert Cocaine Tableau. Most of the group’s biggest hits were pretty direct, lyrically. A woman either pissed them off, or a woman was invited to lay down in the desert with them. Or sometimes the women were left behind while the band wrote their own desperado inspired mythology. But the fragmented imagery in “Hotel California” could only really make sense if the listener has a straw permanently lodged up his nose. The Witchy Woman of the past becomes the hostess of a demonic hostel where pink champagne replaces wine and pretty boys dance endlessly in sweat drenched courtyards. It seems as if the Hotel California is a place to run to and to run from, and we’re pretty sure Henley is only lamenting the “mirrors on ceiling” because all of his coke is now going to wind up on the floor.

With all of that said, the interplay between the guitars is deathless, and even vague descriptions of driving through the desert at night are enough to conjure up personal imagery for anyone confused as to what “colitas” is (are?). (The fact that the Eagles played an acoustic version of this live is either proof that they’re assholes, or that, like Eric Clapton’s tedious acoustic return to “Layla,” they just don’t quite understand the reasons for their own success – Felder trumps Henley here, and that’s that)

With that out of the way, we catch our breath and listen to the gang take it down a notch (with the help of JD Souther – the Eagles were never lacking for talented SoCal co-conspirators, starting at the beginning with Jackson Browne) with “New Kid in Town,” which, damn it, is pretty unassailable, musically. It’s got hooks for days, lush production that never swamps the tune, and a sincere, understated vocal performance from Glenn Frey, backed by great group harmonies. What? The lyrics? Well, okay. The woman is doing him wrong (in the third person, for some reason – maybe it’s not manly to admit you’re the one being cuckolded?), and she’s not living up to her end of the bargain, and…

Okay, you get the point. It’s a Henley/Frey lyric.

“Life in the Fast Lane” (It’s interesting to note the band led the album off with Hotel California’s only three single releases – all smash hits, of course) kicks in next, and we’re reminded overtly of the cocaine. It’s a great radio rocker – guitar licks weaving in and out, featuring maybe the slickest production on the album, and Henley doesn’t spare the dude in the equation this time, letting us know that both parties are feeding each other’s sinful excesses (sex and drugs). It’s a tale as old as Los Angeles, and the spoken “are you with me so far” dropped in by Henley manages to insult the listener almost by accident. (yeah, we’re with you, Don! Sex and drugs go hand-in-hand with rock and roll, brother! Revelation!)

And then we roll into “Wasted Time.” In which Henley (boy, so far, this is really a Don disc more than a Glenn disc) strains to let the poor dumb broad who left him know that she’s done nothing but fuck up her love life by fucking the wrong dudes, and, most importantly, by leaving Henley. It’s definitely this type of sentiment that allows critics to glue the MYSOGYNY label on our heroes. It never occurs to Don that this girl might have made the right choice in leaving a dude who not only plods through an orchestrated piano ballad about the terrible decisions she’s made, but backs it up with an orchestral reprise to hammer the point home. (the reprise actually originally opened side two, just to make sure you couldn’t escape the sentiment by flipping over the album – the fucking Eagles led off side two of their biggest album with an orchestral reprise. Admire their balls)

The sequencing of Hotel California comes across as pretty messy in the era of the compact disc/digital album, with the “Wasted Time(s)” dropped right smack into the middle of things, and “Life in the Fast Lane” book-ending the song(s) with the next track up…

And it’s another Henley rocker (what demons was Frey battling in 1976 that allowed him to take such a backseat to his his white ‘fro-sporting partner?), “Victim of Love.” It’s a catchy rocker about…some poor dumb broad. I hate to harp on the cocaine, but how much of it was Stevie Nicks doing to think Henley was a fun dude to party with? Anyway, this one is another radio staple, despite never being released as a single. Truthfully, all the album really needed was “Life in the Fast Lane” to remind us the boys could rock a little. But here they slowed it down a notch in case you had trouble keeping up with them the first time.

And then, out of nowhere, we’re dropped into Joe Walsh’s melancholy reflection on life, “Pretty Maids All in a Row.” I can’t say exactly what the Eagles were thinking when they pulled Walsh into the band (”Hey – this dude makes us look sober!”), but I’d be hard-pressed to believe they anticipated his first recorded contribution would be such a beautiful, naked sentiment, punctuated not with his trademark guitar rips, but by piano and synthesizer. It’s a jarring shift in tone, helping the album achieve an eclectic vibe it was struggling to achieve with Henley dominating the proceedings, and all the more powerful for it.

Anyway, great track. And it’s followed by another great track.

Backing up “Pretty Maids” is, for my money, the best track on the album, and one of the most overlooked songs in the band’s catalog. No coincidence it’s a Randy Meisner song. “Try and Love Again” is a soaring, hopeful rocker, punctuated by Meisner’s upper register, and some truly uplifting guitar soloing. It’s a mystery why this track wasn’t released as a single, unless Henley and Frey were still annoyed that Meisner’s “Take It to the Limit” was the band’s first number one single. But it’s the one track from the album I find myself revisiting most often, without apology. It’s also worth noting that while Meisner’s lyric is treading on self-pity, he’s not blaming a chick for his problems.

At this point we’ve wound our way through a collection of hit singles, timeless riffs, and a couple of contributions from lesser used band members that stand up to the hits. It’s hard to say there’s a definite theme at play here, although California and Los Angeles are definite players on the scene. So it’s up to Henley, again, to hammer things home with the most pretentious track in the Eagles’ entire catalog.

“The Last Resort” answers the question, “What if Randy Newman didn’t have a sense of humor?” A confused history of California (and over seven minutes long, to punctuate its importance as a statement), complete with references to the “Red Man” and Malibu and all of those bright lights that sullied the landscape, presented by a group that pretty actively moved closer and closer to the neon the further their hitmaking prowess ascended. The song starts as a literal travelogue about a girl from Providence (”The one in Rhode Island”), and then slips into a reminder that California has really succeeded at excess, which is evidently a bad thing.

In the end, it’s all the preacher’s fault, anyway. One suspects that Henley (and Frey?) realized he wasn’t really headed toward any logical conclusions with this one, and the lesson we’re left with is that the missionaries traded the Red Man’s peace of mind and started us on the path toward…well…all of that cocaine and colitas, I guess. (it is a pretty tune, though)

And that’s it. Nine songs (split into ten tracks), three hit singles, and 38 million copies sold.

Is Hotel California essential? In terms of understanding the “evolution” of pop culture, it’s an essential landing point for those curious how Los Angeles went from acoustic canyon-dwelling hippie haven to the paranoid personal driveway for limos filled with coke-addled celebrities wearing sunglasses at midnight because the lights fuck with what’s left of their peripheral vision.

But in the battle of juggernaut Los Angeles pop albums, Rumours creams Hotel California because Fleetwood Mac can be heard shutting out the world and wrestling with their relationships while coincidentally at the peak of their songwriting and performing abilities, whereas the Eagles were trying to make statements without much to state. Rumours is essential. Hotel California sounds good when you’re not paying attention too closely.

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#Hotel California #Eagles #Don Henley #Glenn Frey #Joe Walsh #Randy Meisner #1976 #Rock Music #cocaine #Rumours

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alarawriting · 4 years

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Inktober 2020 #4: Radio

Based on the prompt originally from @writing-prompt-s, “You’re taking a road trip in a 5 seater car. Each seat is filled with you, but at various points in your life. One of you strikes up a conversation.”

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I’m in the driver’s seat, with myself at forty on the passenger side, window down of course, just like I’d do if I wasn’t driving. My selves at ten and twenty are sitting in the bucket seats in the middle row of the minivan, with Ten behind Forty and Twenty behind me, and Thirty is in the back, lying sprawled across the entire seat. My Pandora feed is playing through the radio, and right now, it’s Area 27’s “Driving With The Future Self”, which is apropos, though technically, I am the only one who’s not.

“I hate vans,” Twenty complains. “I can’t put down the window. Why do you even have one?”

“Four kids,” Forty says, and Twenty is taken aback. Ten, however, seems impressed.

“Do you have a lot of cats?” she asks.

“Too many,” Thirty complains from the back seat, so apparently she hasn’t fallen asleep.

“I’ve got small windows open in the back, or I could open my window all the way, and the air would get back to you,” I tell Twenty.

“Roll down your window, it’s better than nothing. Ugh. Why are you driving a car that has windows you can’t open?”

“I’m pretty sure Forty answered that,” I said.

“What, don’t they make vans where the side windows open?”

“Pretty much no. I could maybe have gotten an SUV—”

“AKA, a death trap on wheels—” Thirty calls from the back.

“But as you can see, I don’t want to.”

“What’s an SUV?” Ten asks, young enough that it doesn’t bother her to demonstrate ignorance. I happen to know Twenty doesn’t know what they are either.

“Sports Utility Vehicle. They range from ‘pickup truck, except with a roof and back seats’ to ‘I took this regular car and pasted it onto the wheels of this ice cream truck,’” I say, rolling down my window. “Is that any better?”

“Yeah, but now it’s hard to hear.”

“You and Ten have the best hearing, so you’re just gonna have to tough it out,” I say. “Better miss some words than feel nauseous, right?”

“This is great,” Ten says. “I finally found an adult who will take my issues seriously. Too bad it’s my own older self.”

“It could be worse,” Twenty says. “You could find out that your older self doesn’t care about your issues, which I am not sure is not going on.”

“Oh, for gods’ sake, Twenty, I have a minivan because it moves large families and drywall for construction projects and a million boxes of books when I am moving, or storing extra books, and unfortunately they don’t have them where the gas mileage is pretty good, the reliability record is excellent, and the windows go down. Cheap, fast, good, pick two. I picked gas and reliability.”

“I’m glad you picked gas,” Ten says. “And that you have the windows down instead of the air conditioning. We have to save energy.”

“Does anyone even care about that anymore?” Thirty complains.

“I thought I’d ride a bicycle,” Twenty says. “Not contribute to pollution and wasting gas.”

“I want you to think back to the time we rode a bicycle three miles to our friend’s horse barn, and then maybe you will have the answer for why no bicycles,” Thirty says.

“Actually, it’s because I broke my tailbone having kids, and I can’t sit on the damn things,” Forty says.

“Actually, it’s because of all those things, plus cities aren’t great places for bikes, plus hard to tow young children, plus now I’m old and my knees are shot,” I say. “I could probably come up with half a dozen other reasons.”

“Do you at least have a short commute? Please tell me you have a short commute,” Thirty, who suffered a severe depressive episode that was at least in part caused by a 5 hour daily commute, says.

“I work from home.”

Thirty is now sitting up. She cheers. “Yes!”

“How does that work?” Twenty asks, puzzled. “Wouldn’t you have to go into the lab?”

Oh, wow. I’d forgotten. Twenty still thinks she’s going to graduate college and go to grad school and become a scientist. Forty says, delicately, “We do IT now, actually.”

“What’s IT?” Ten asks. “Aside from the villain in A Wrinkle In Time.”

“Information Technology. We work with computers.”

“We’re programmers?” Twenty asks, dismayed.

This is why I never made the big bucks in IT. “No. More like… oh, hell, it won’t make any sense to you. You don’t even have the Internet yet.”

“The College of Engineering has it,” Twenty says, “but I don’t think the College of Arts and Sciences can get it. Why is it useful and what do we do with it?”

I’m taking this – even Forty’s not quite far enough along to fully understand. Things change fast. “You remember Phenoma Jones’ Phenomenally Weird Phenomenon?”

“I just made that up,” Ten says. “Just, like, a month ago or something.”

“Yeah, of course I remember it if you do,” Twenty says.

This is not entirely accurate. Thirty doesn’t remember the shelf of dolls we had in our bedroom as a child, or more accurately, Thirty doesn’t think about it. Forty just found a picture of it and it reminded her so hard and made her so nostalgic she paid a lot of money to get hold of “new” used versions of all our old dolls, plus a lot of random extras. She still thinks she’s gonna make money selling the random extras. I’d forgotten the Silver Kitten until my brother brought it up a year ago – a story I told about a silver statue that was a stylized number 8 with cat ears and a simple cat face on top, which was somehow alive and powerful. I don’t remember the details. Ten probably does, but I don’t want to derail the conversation by asking her, because she will tell me, at great length, and I can’t bear to hurt myself by interrupting her and making her stop infodumping the way I remember everyone else doing. At my age I know why they did it, but the memory still hurts. So Forty doesn’t remember it and probably not Thirty either.

“Okay, so you know how in those playings, in the future, there’ll be a network connecting all the computers and there’s shows on it and you pay a little bit of money for each show?”

“Yeah,” Ten says.

“That’s real. That’s happening.”

Her eyes go wide. “I predicted the future?”

“You’re not psychic, you just read the right science fiction. And you didn’t get it perfect. Instead of microtransactions to buy a show, we usually subscribe to a service that gives us shows we want.”

“Like cable,” Twenty says.

“Yes, but it doesn’t suck. Instead of thirty million channels and half of them are sports, it’s like a library of videotapes on your computer and you can watch any of them anytime you want.”

“Can you make your own?” Ten, who is very interested in making videotapes, says, and tears prick my eyes. Because yes, Ten, yes, people all over the world make their own and they put them on Youtube, but it’ll come too late for you. You’ll be thirty-five with a tiny baby and a lot of insecurity about your looks and no time to record yourself, and by the time you have the time you’re even older and there’s so many other things you need to do with your time, because it’s running out.

“I think so,” Forty says. “Right, Fifty?”

“Yeah. Our kids have done some of them. We really don’t, though.”

“Oh,” Ten says, disappointed. “Why not?”

I’m not going to tell her because of insecurity about how we look. She’ll understand that well enough but think we just need to push past it, like she does. But Twenty finally likes her appearance, and Thirty doesn’t think she’s too bad looking, and I don’t want to tell them that someday they’re going to see themselves in the mirror and think they look like a short, squat troll or something. And Ten won’t understand what it does to you to finally think you’re beautiful, after suffering with thinking you’re ugly your entire childhood, and then losing it.

“We have other stuff we do,” I say vaguely. “Like learning German.”

“That’s great, but it doesn’t answer my question about what we do for a job. Do we do something with these shows?”

“No. Not the shows. But people put their files up on the Internet as well, and they send emails – messages through the computer—”

“I am smart enough to figure that out from context,” Twenty says disapprovingly. I’ve forgotten what an arrogant twit she could be sometimes. Well, to be honest, I didn’t forget because I never knew. When I was her age, I thought my behavior was fine.

“Right. Subscription services exist for that too. We help people get onto those services, move over any emails or files they had on a different service, and fix their problems.”

Forty is dismayed. “Really? That sounds horrible. Is that tech support? Don’t we get to do anything with data?”

“Sometimes,” I shrug, lying.

If I thought telling them all about everything would change anything for me, I would. But I don’t know how we all get out of this car without me being the only one who remembers any of it, because I don’t remember ever being in a car with my future selves. Either they’re from alternate universes or nothing I say can change their fates, because they won’t remember.

“Are we at least published?” Ten asks. “Tell me we’re published.”

“We have a few short stories published in some anthologies and magazines.”

Twenty is horrified. “Only that? After I’ve written all these stories?”

“The problem is that you suck and nothing you wrote is publishable as-is,” Forty says.

“What do you mean, I suck?”

“Twenty,” I say, because I’ve learned some diplomacy in the past ten years, “everything you’re writing goes into making us the writer we become. Thirty’s pretty damn good. And regardless of whether you ‘suck’ or not, I have a project going on where I’m publishing your stuff online. But it’s for free, on my—” I stop. She won’t know the word “blog”, or even “web page.” “—online journal. I’m editing things to bring them up to my current standard, but if you weren’t writing so much right now, I wouldn’t have anything to draw from.”

“Why aren’t we making money publishing books?” Ten demands.

Forty says, “Because fanfic. When you’re sixteen you’ll start writing stories about Battle of the Planets, and you’ll know you can’t publish them, but you’ll do it anyway. Then you’ll discover a place where there are other fans of the show and its original Japanese version.”

“Writing stories about shows where you can’t publish it in a magazine or a book and you can’t make money is called fan fiction,” Thirty says. “Or fanfic for short.”

“Fanfic’s great, but I’m still writing original stuff,” Twenty says.

“You’ll stop,” Thirty says. “You get instant feedback from writing fanfic – we can put it on the internet, we don’t need to worry about xeroxing two dozen copies anymore and waiting six months to hear anything from anyone. And the instant feedback’s addictive. I thought I’d be able to overcome it and write some books, but apparently, according to these guys, no.”

“I’m doing the 52 Project now,” I tell Forty, since she’s the only one who knows what I’m talking about.

“Now? Like… not eight years ago?”

“Now,” I say. “We needed a fire to light under our asses and we finally got one.” I won’t tell her what it was.

“What’s the 52 Project?” Ten asks.

“52 stories, one a week, every week, for a whole year. That’s where your stories are going, Twenty. And some of your ideas, Ten. I’ve lost everything you ever actually wrote, but it’s ok – you’re going to find a style that doesn’t sound like Mom next year, and a little while after that, I have everything you’ll write. Also, I wrote a kids’ book based on Superkitty.”

“Wow!” Ten says. “But how can you have Underdog in it? Wouldn’t that be fanfic?”

“I changed a lot of things,” I admit. “In my story, Superkitty’s ten. She doesn’t have a hundred family members, just Lara Kitty and a little brother. She’s not working as a slave of the dogs, she lives in Kookalariland, but her family are refugees because the dogs really did take over her home country. And the Underdog character is named Arthur Boy.”

Underdog’s secret identity was Shoeshine Boy. “I see what you did there,” Forty says, grinning. “I assume this isn’t published yet.”

“No. I finished it this year but it’s the first children’s book we’ve ever done – young adult novels, sure, but this is a chapter book for second graders, so I need someone who’s willing to look it over and tell me if it’s good before I send it to an agent.”

“So why are you doing everything now?” Thirty asks. “Did fanfic stop being fun, or did we manage to wean ourselves off it, and if so, how?”

“That rhymed,” Ten tells us all. No one tells Ten that that was not important information because all of us remember being what it was like to be Ten.

“Stuff has happened,” I say. “You know, no one lives forever, and I’m fifty. I need to think about the fact that there’s more time behind me than ahead of me, and I don’t want to disappoint all of you. Maybe if it was just me, I could just go writing fanfic until the end of time, but I know what you all wanted and I don’t want to let you down.”

Thirty says, slowly, “Fifty? Why isn’t there a Sixty in the car with us?”

I almost think I can see a Sixty. She fades in and out in the back seat. Might be my imagination, all the rest of them are as real as anything. “I can guess why, but for obvious reasons, I don’t actually know.”

“Is it diabetes.” Forty says that like it’s not a question.

“Yeah, but also other stuff.” I make a decision. Forty is past the point where any of our children were born; nothing she does can change my timeline enough to make my kids disappear. Either she won’t remember, or nothing will change for me but she can change her own timeline… or maybe she can fix things. The last decade was when everything went to hell. “High blood pressure. Took us a while to get the right medication for that. Then diabetes. Then breast cancer.”

No one in the car says anything until Forty bursts out, “That’s not fair! We don’t even have a family history of cancer—”

“Mom’s going to die of it,” I tell Forty.

“Mom dies?” Ten is appalled. She knew, of course, that people die, but hearing it as a thing that actually happened to Mom is freaking her out. I guess she thought Mom would live a ridiculously long time.

“Lung or breast?” Forty asks me in the harsh monotone I use when all of my effort is going into not showing my emotions. She really doesn’t have to; we all know the trick – maybe Ten’s not self-aware enough to know, but the rest of us do – and we know we have emotions. But I also know I’d do the same thing.

“Brain, in the end. It started in the lung.”

“That doesn’t mean we have a family history of cancer, then. She smoked.”

“Then what’s the point?” Ten screams, tears welling up in her eyes. “I tried and tried and tried to get her to quit! She didn’t quit? After all the times I told her about how bad it was for her?”

“That’s not how addiction works,” I say. “Addicts know what’s bad for them but they can’t stop craving it, and that overrides your willpower. Besides, she did quit. Thirty, has she quit yet?”

“Just did, but… I agree with Ten. What’s the point if she’s gonna die of cancer anyway?” I can’t see her, all the way in the back, but I hear it in her voice. Her eyes are going to be wet and she’s struggling as hard as she can not to cry.

“We don’t know. Maybe that gave her more time. Maybe it wasn’t the smoking at all – she was taking medications for issues with diabetes that they say could cause cancer.”

“When?” Forty asks.

“2015. In 2013 around December they’re going to see something on the X-ray of her lung, but they’ll think it’s scar tissue from smoking. In 2014 they’ll find out it’s cancer, but it’ll be too late by then. She’ll die a year later.”

“No, she won’t,” Forty says. “I’m going to stop it. I’m going to tell her – I dunno. Tell her I dreamed about Grandma telling me I have to warn her about that scar and she needs to get more tests.”

“Yeah, she’ll buy that,” Thirty agrees.

“I hope you can,” I say, “but… I don’t remember ever having ridden in a car with the rest of you, so I don’t know if you can.”

“Maybe this is the start of the paradox cycle,” Thirty says. “Then on the next iteration everything will be different.”

“How did we even get in this car, anyway?” Twenty asks. “And where are we going?”

“More important,” Forty says. “When did you get cancer and how serious is it? Is it related to diabetes? When did you get that?”

“2017 for the diabetes but honestly, probably right after Mom died, because we were too fucked up to go to a doctor and we pretended nothing was happening. And then we did the same goddamn thing about a lump in our breast in 2016 because they said they couldn’t see anything but we should go for more tests, but we lost the paperwork so we didn’t. In 2017 the lump started hurting, so we did go for the tests, and it was cancer. I lost the breast. This is a fake.” I thump my chest. “They say they think they got it all, but there isn’t any test you can undergo yet to find out if the damn thing has popped up somewhere else. The other breast’s clean. They’re giving me drugs that kill my sex drive and are going to ruin my marriage eventually, most likely, because the cancer responds to female hormones.”

I think Ten might be grossed out or upset by talking about sex drive, but I’ve forgotten. Ten can treat the subject of sex as if it’s a clinical matter of interest. She’s the one who tried to explain the birds and the bees to my uncle when she was five. Well, I guess all of us are.

Thirty mutters, “I might get more done that way…”

“You won’t,” I say.

“You’re actually publishing stuff that isn’t fanfic now, are you sure?”

“I’m going to change it,” Forty says. “I’m going to change all of it. I’ll warn Mom. I’ll fix our eating habits now so we don’t get diabetes until later. I won’t let the breast thing go. I’ll change everything. None of the rest of you change anything; if you try to alter the timeline you might erase our kids. But I can do it. I can start the writing earlier, too.”

There’s so much she could theoretically change that she really can’t. I can’t warn her about Donald Trump; she won’t have any power to do anything about it, any more than she did in 2015 and 2016. Same with COVID – she has no power to change that. I could tell her about the issues with the marriage but if I did, I risk Thirty deciding to break up with her boyfriend, who is my future husband and the father of my children. There’s one thing I can say, though. “If you can actually change anything… you’re gonna get the other house. Make sure Dad puts it in your name. Mom and Dad will have issues with some of our pets and it’ll be really upsetting when the house is a mess and they come to visit and complain about the house all day because it’s their house.”

“…How does Dad end up getting involved with the house?” Forty asks.

“Too complicated to explain,” I say, “and not an issue you need to force to exist.” Forty just attempted to get that house – the other half of our duplex – and failed because the underwriters for FHA loans refused to believe she was buying it to live in it rather than rent it out, and she didn’t have enough money to buy it the other way. It’ll work out better the way it actually happened, because Dad got it for a lot less money than Forty would have been able to buy it for, but she needs to not have the specter of how we are treating “their” house hanging over every interaction with Mom and Dad until Mom is dead. Especially if she can do something about Mom dying.

“Is there anything I need to watch out for?” Thirty asks Forty, or maybe me, or both of us.

“Nothing we can tell you. You’re going to have kids. Anything, however small, that you change could affect the timing of that and make you end up with completely different kids.”

Thirty considers that, and then nods. “Okay, good point.”

“Is everything really going to be terrible?” Ten asks. “It sounds like all the awful stuff happens between Forty and Fifty, and then we don’t even know, but… isn’t there anything good?”

“We’re not going to be what we thought we would be,” I say. “We’re not going to change the world. We’re not going to be the Uber-Feminist and whip our man into doing everything we say.” Ten is the only person here who even thought there was a chance of that one, really. “We’re not going to be published novel writers by this time. But we’ll have written four million words, most of it fanfic, most of it good, and we’ll actually enjoy reading it over, and it will always be a huge thrill to hear from someone who liked it. We’ll make many friends, over time, and there will be times when there aren’t any, but there will be times when there are a lot. We’ll make a huge difference in the lives of at least three children who aren’t biologically ours. We’ll learn a lot about ourselves and why we are the way we are and we’ll finally feel like we belong to the human race and there are others like us out there. And we’re also going to publish fifty-two stories in fifty-two weeks.”

“Well, I mean, we don’t know that,” Thirty says. “Unless you’re done.”

“Nope. Halfway through, though. And we’ll learn a lot about how to write short stories that way, and I’m sure that next year we can use that to write new ones that we can publish. It’s not over yet, girls.”

“But maybe you don’t have very much time,” Thirty says. “Because Sixty’s not here.”

“That’s why we’re in this car,” I say. I didn’t know what I was going to say until I said it, but now that I’m saying it, I feel with all my heart that it’s true. “We’re going to look for her. And if we find her, we’ll look for Seventy. Eighty I’m pretty sure is not happening, but what the hell, we’ll look for her too.”

Jig of Life by Kate Bush is playing on the radio. “This moment in time, she said, it doesn’t belong to you, she said. It belongs to me, and to your little boy and to your little girl and the one hand clapping, where on your palm is my little line, when you’re written in mine as an old memory…”

All of us stop to listen to the song. Ten doesn’t know it, but she likes it. She hasn’t seriously discovered her own tastes in music yet, and that song hasn’t yet been written. Twenty and the rest of them all know it, but only I know what it means.

The four of us who know the song sing along with it, and I start crying, but I keep singing anyway.

#inktober 2020 #roman a clef #alara's october 2020 prompt fics #writing-prompt-s

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matildainmotion · 4 years

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Rejection, Failures and Fxck Ups – A New, or Very Old, Approach to Loss and Losing

“It’s okay to make mistakes – that’s how you learn;” “It’s the taking part that counts -the playing, not the winning;” “If you can learn to lose that will be a huge achievement.” I hear myself saying these and similar truisms when my daughter comes last in a race with her impossibly long-legged brother, or breaks a cup, or spills her drink, or when my son’s carefully planned prank goes awry, or the drawing he is trying to do does not come out right. In such moments of acute vulnerability my daughter howls – a cry of deep and terrible anguish, that can go on for a great many minutes after the original loss. I noticed even when she was a baby that falling, for her, was failing, an injury not so much to her body as her soul- as if the ground had deliberately struck her, undermining her upright dignity. My son, on the other hand, does not howl, but rather bares his teeth, makes fists, swings punches at me or anyone else who might have witnessed and therefore in some way contributed to his sense of failure. In both instances, when they weep and wail, gnash teeth - because on a child-scale their circumstances seem serious and awful - I have comforted them and then come out with some version of the above statements. They are trite but I have believed that the basic message – ‘it’s fine to fail’ – was a sound one. At least, that’s what I thought until last week.

Last Friday I experienced two forms of failure which, on an adult-scale, were really very minor. One was the culmination of a writing competition, run by a literary agency – the prize: mentorship and representation. I had not entered it to win – I had entered it in order to have a focus, a deadline, to practice submitting my fiction, rather than hiding with it in a secret corner. The winners were due to be announced on Friday. Despite being clear my primary motivation for entering was not winning, despite being certain I would not be selected, come Friday morning I was nervous. I was checking Twitter for the announcement and felt a strange mix of repulsion and respect for those on there who were frank enough to tweet, with nail-biting gifs, about their angst, their aspirations, their hope. Hope - Dickinson’s feathered thing but, despite the feathers, the only item not to fly out from Pandora’s box- a quiet, little creature with wondrous and terrible tenacity. On Friday I wanted to get the damn thing out of the box. I wanted it to fly away. I tried hard to shake it loose - it wouldn’t budge. I was feeling hopeful.

Meanwhile, down the hill, at our allotment, there were some other little things in a box, that did not yet have feathers, only fluff: chicks. I hadn’t been hopeful about the eggs. We had collected them from a faraway farm – in theory they were fertilised but the woman who sold them to us did so for half price because, she said, “It’s late in the season and I can’t be sure. I’ll give you a variety to give you a better chance.” And then, on top of that, our broody hen (the Star Wars-inspired ‘Princess Layer’), at first rejected the pale blue ones that did not look like hers, and only later started sitting on them, so I thought they had probably got too cold and nothing was going to hatch. But Thursday morning, four weeks after she first went broody, sitting day in day out in the dark of the nest box, I lifted up the Princess and lo and behold there was a broken shell, and a tiny, wet, cheeping chick. Friday morning, after checking Twitter, I pedalled down the hill to the hens. Chick number one had fluffed up to full yellow cuteness and been joined by chick number two. Little wings, dark eyes, pale pink claws. I thought that was it, and began to take the other eggs, the pale blue ones, away. But as I lifted an egg, I saw a black spy hole in its shell, and behind the hole – motion - someone inside. I felt small, in awe, as if whoever was within knew things I didn’t, couldn’t. Breath held, heart fast, I put the eggs back. Here was hope in action. An actual hatching - the Easter pinup – the most famous of images for spring, for life returning.

By Friday evening I had not won the competition and the chick was dead. It had hatched after hours of work – who knew hatching could be so like a human labour in its length and intensity? Yet it had managed, had come out whole -a bold bundle of breath, blood, beak, incontrovertible evidence that whichever came first – chicken or egg – the result was the same: life. But then it had been weaker than the others, who had had a head start, and the broody hen was growing restless – when I came back to check on them before bed, I found it lying, limp, still warm, thin eyelids down, little claws unclenched, half buried in the straw. If I had come earlier, if I had separated it, if I had cleared out the straw…maybe it would have lived.

I have been very lucky – I have never had a miscarriage or a still birth. This was only a little chick. Nonetheless I felt broken. I tried out the truisms that I have used on my children a thousand times - they did not cut it. Worse than that – they seemed offensive. I wanted to howl like my daughter, and rage like my son. They knew something I didn’t. Just like that chick did. So I gave up trying to teach my children how to lose with grace and decided to consider instead what I might learn from them.

My son goes from one obsession to the next, as many children do, but he does so with particular, on-the-spectrum intensity. Feb to April was My Little Pony. April to June was Beast Quest. He is now onto the Greek myths. To be fair there is some consistency through this- believe it or not both My Little Pony and Beast Quest draw heavily on Greek mythology for inspiration. This is the first time his obsessions have overlapped with mine - in my writing I am also working on a Greek myth. What strikes me as I study the stories through my son’s eyes is that they are full of characters, divine and mortal, who fail, fall and fxck up royally, who lose face, lose their lovers and their loved ones, and that when they do, they are terrible losers. The heroes and heroines in these myths don’t hold back on their howling and their raging. They cry for weeks, years even. They cry so hard they change shape or change the world around them. They swear vengeance for their losses, plan awful punishments, wage long and horrible wars. No one tells Hector, Achilles, Paris: “Never mind mate – it’s the taking part that counts.” Now I am not proposing to use the ancient Greek myths as a new model for mothering, but there is something relieving about their heroes unashamed and often moving melodramas, about their sense of seriousness and ceremony. Inspired by these myths, my son held a burial for the chick, by the raspberry bushes on the allotment. He knelt and said a prayer to Zeus, and then to Hades and Persephone, asking them to welcome the little creature when it arrived with them, to let it fly free. This was after he had railed at me for an hour – crying, shouting, trying to punch me, beating the wall, accusing me of murder – full on, proper grief, worthy of those ancient Greeks. It struck me I could have done the same with my writing disappointment: printed out the webpage announcing the happy winners, then wept upon it bitterly. Built a ceremonial fire, burnt the paper, whilst sending off my prayers for the Herculean stamina and strength required to keep writing. What I’m trying to say is that I’m aware I have been guilty of that crime our culture commits daily- tidying disappointment and loss away too quickly, making it constructive, sidestepping the difficulty, heading straight for claiming: “I’ve learnt my lesson. I’m fine. I’m over it.”

In the modern mythic classic, We’re Going on a Bear Hunt, written by Michael Rosen, illustrated by Helen Oxenbury, a book more befitting my daughter’s than my son’s age bracket, each time the children encounter a new obstacle in the landscape – long grass, mud, a river, a snowstorm- they chant:

We can't go over it. We can't go under it. Oh no! We've got to go through it!

This is the insight that my children, a small chick and some Greek gods have reminded me of in the last week: you’ve got to go through it. Not over it, not under it, not round it, but through it. I did know this before – I know how excruciating it is when someone tries to teach you a lesson, give advice, instead of being present with the pain of where you are. But I had not recognised the extent to which I have been doing this with my children, because their losses seem so slight, so trivial when I hold them up against the stark losses in the world. I see now that I’ve been getting everything the wrong way round: I’ve been comparing the children’s worries to the world’s, instead of the world’s worries to theirs, instead of recognising that they hold some wisdom that I and the world need now. Ours is the age in which it is clear that we have made some cataclysmic mistakes, that we keep making them, that we are a generation of losers and those that come after us will inherit a whole lot of loss. There is no way round it. We can’t go over it. We can’t go under it. A global pandemic. Racial injustice. Climate change. Oh no! We’ve got to go through it! This means weeping for weeks. Howling for months. Raging for years. But doing so consciously and creatively. When my children do this, I think they are rehearsing themselves, rehearsing me. This is not about being hopeless. I believe that going through it, with full feeling and ceremony, is the most hopeful thing we can do – the thing that will earn us feathers. Maybe we can weep enough to change ourselves, a metamorphosis as marvellous as that of a Greek god.

To go through it, there are some things we are going to need. Two of these things are the stuff of the gods: care and creation, or, to use other words, mothering and making. In all myths, in all traditions, this is what the gods do- they make stuff and they look after stuff. The two go together: we look after things because we made them, and we make things because we care. Arguably ‘Mothers Who Make’ is a terrible tautology, and caring and creating may even be the same – they both involve a kind of holding. When the chick died, I had to hold my son while he tried to hit me. Later I had to hold a ritual with him. At a time when all the theatres are closed, it seems to me, we need theatre more than ever. Be it online or outdoors, we need to build symbolic fires, stages to hold our grief, our rage, our fear, our hope. We need to perform these things- it is what will get us through. Secret creations and collaborations got people through the concentration camps. The late and legendary civil rights activist John Lewis said: “If it hadn’t been for music, the civil rights movement would have been like a bird without wings.” Art is not a luxury, a nice diversion – it is the way through, not round.

So, what will I do next time my daughter falls over, or my son messes up his drawing? I hope I will pause and consider this: maybe there is a point to crying over spilt milk. Maybe next time it spills we will weep the same weight in tears as the milk that is pooling, white, across the kitchen table. Maybe we will lie in it, mop it up with our clothes, then run outside and do a dance to the milk gods, to celebrate the milk and say sorry for its loss, and then we will run to the river, dive in, wash our clothes and ourselves, while we sing a song of cleansing, and then we will walk back, dripping new. I am playing with this so as to bring it home to myself, so that when the next rejection, mistake, failure, loss befalls me or the children, I have the courage not to mop it up too fast. Instead of my teaching them to lose with acceptance, I hope that we may discover together how to lose with passion and imagination.

So, here are my questions for you for the month of August (coming to you at the end of July): Tell me about your rejections, your failures, your losses- your own? your children’s? What do you do when loss comes? Do you weep? or rage? or both? Can you do so more, as if you were inside a Greek myth, do so consciously? And what ritual, ceremony or creative act can you perform to get you through it? What can you do to earn your feathers?

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five-wow · 4 years

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10.14!! i watched it!! here are some thoughts!! (actually a lot of thoughts because looking back it kind of got away from me in a big way, wow.)

i did NOT know the episode was going to cold open on eddie running straight into traffic and steve being a heroic idiot who manages to save both his dog and his own life more through sheer luck than any particular skill, but oh dear god, that was intense.

and then we have danny sitting in a bar somewhere and staring down a glass! looks like they’re both putting their morning to great use.

this woman who comes in and starts talking to danny? i love her. she is awesome. (i know she’s going to die based on the episode description, but for now, i’m choosing to ignore that and just enjoy her presence.)

ALSO the lady bartender who tells danny he should listen to the woman because she sounds like she knows what she’s talking about? i love her, too. she only gets to say maybe three sentences but i’m already mostly convinced that danny’s mystery woman should probably ditch him for this bartender lady. mystery woman is doing ALL the work here, and danny is just kind of present.

fjdkfdjk danny excusing himself for the phone call with “it’s a work thing” and then the VERY FIRST THING steve says is “relax, it’s not a work thing”. i’m laughing so hard, but also, that’s just ?? genuinely like they’re reading each other’s mind from opposite ends of the island, or wherever danny may currently be. (AND an immediate sign that danny’s excuse to pick up steve’s call in the middle of a conversation was not a good one, or true, for that matter. i wouldn’t necessarily call this a lie, but with danny’s track record when it comes to telling women he’s dating the truth, this is also not the greatest start of a relationship, maybe, omg.)

danny, just after a really awesome and super pretty woman approached him in a bar even though he’s got basically nothing going for him at the moment, offers to come home because eddie isn’t feeling well. and. i mean. it’s not that that’s not sweet or that it’s not a good offer to make because maybe steve needs emotional support even if eddie doesn’t, but it also really really sounds like danny is kind of hoping for a reason to fully excuse himself from his impromptu date.

also, fdjkf, danny teasing steve about the pretty vet lady is cute but confusing to me, because steve met her right before he spent upwards of a month stalking his mother in columbia and he can’t have been a great person to be dating right after that, either, so how is that relationship even still going? i just assumed that was a casualty of life getting in the way, but apparently this vet is either a very, very patient woman or almost creepily invested after just a single date, if she’s giving steve this much time to just randomly disappear on her.

AND THEN steve asks danny if he wants to join steve to grab a bite to eat and finally, finally! danny mentions that there might be someone waiting for him, and this is low key hilarious to me all over again because i’m sure it’s not really meant this way, but i’m reading this now as danny going “no! i totally am not looking for an excuse to get away, because i am having a great time!” while also feeling a need to reestablish his own dating prowess after steve’s last date was just mentioned and/or hoping to maybe make steve a little jealous for that same reason.

danny starts telling mystery woman how he’s deduced that she must be new to the island! i really like this, both because danny is finally contributing something to the flirting (he has a personality!) and because it makes such perfect sense for that to be something danny picks up on, considering his own history when it comes to integrating on hawaii.

danny: “[hawaii] grows on you.” yes, mystery woman! all you need is to find another woman you can have strong sexual tension with for a decade while raising two kids together, moving in a couple of times and getting mistaken for a couple regularly while also clinging to your heterosexuality like it’s a life raft even though you keep ignoring all your heterosexual partners, and you’ll feel right at home, just the way danny does!

WHOOP. they’re making out in the bathroom now. that escalated quickly, fjdkf.

they were giggling and moaning and talking loudly the entire time, but when danny tries to leave through the door mystery woman needs to check if the coast is clear first or they’ll get busted. oh, you guys. i think poor bartender lady already knows, as basically the only other person in this empty bar.

also: danny has a rental car?? from steve suggesting food i kind of assumed danny is still on the island and in the area, but apparently he couldn’t take either his own car or steve’s truck, because then it would get wrecked during the car crash that’s scheduled later on in this episode, i guess. good thinking, danny!

they have baseball and the east coast in common! that’s cute! (though i also can’t help but be reminded of melissa, who was from new york, and feel like this woman is turning into melissa 2.0, gosh. this first meeting is better so far, though! danny is not creepily car stalking a much younger woman he only met for two minutes at a gas station - well done, danny.)

they have a Moment and then someone coming towards them on the road is being an idiot and danny swerves and the car FLIPS and i don’t think danny is getting his deposit on this rental back.

the pretty doctor is making a house call for steve and steve is too anxious about eddie to even think about the fact that this should probably be a little awkward somehow, oh my gosh. he just rambles ahead about eddie’s problem, like a good dad.

danny and mystery woman are both looking very banged up and bloody, but mystery woman has part of the license plate number of the car that nearly hit them and tells danny to give it to the police so nobody else will get hurt! she continues to be awesome.

fdjfkdjkfdj, so steve gets an answer about eddie (he’s showing signs of post-traumatic stress) and he and the doctor have a serious conversation about that and then he walks her to the door and THEN he goes “emma, before you leave, i feel like i should probably bring up the, uh-” and she fills in “how you never called me back”. oh my GOD, steve. he went on a date with this woman, never called her again (somewhat understandably from his side, but still) and then DID call her, but to ask her to come make a house call because his dog is acting weird, and she granted him this favor and acted like not just a professional but a really kind one. WHY do these disaster men get paired with these perfect women, fjdk.

steve!! tells her!! he has issues balancing work and personal life!! and it honestly isn’t that much because it’s missing huge chunks of what really went down, but oh boy, this is already A Lot and i’m surprised we’re getting this much and i’m proud of him!!

she’s seeing someone! she tells him no hard feelings! she tells him she believes him when he says it’s not about her but about his problems! GROWN UP RELATIONSHIP TALK. i mean, there was never much of a relationship here to start with perhaps, but STILL, i love this. very good. A+.

steve’s face after she leaves though, oh my gosh. he seems a little shellshocked that he actually just had that conversation, maybe a little disappointed in himself that he let things happen this way.

lou is at will’s college for parents weekend! and there is talk of decorating will’s dorm room, which is cool, but also confuses me a little bit because i’m assuming will’s been living in that room for many months by now.

wait, okay, i’m more confused: lou is calling about eddie because tani texted him that eddie wasn’t feeling well, which is cool! family keeping family in the loop! except then steve says that the vet just left and said it might be pts, and then lou suddenly says he knows someone whose expertise is in military working dogs, and he already reached out to him and that’s the part where i go ? because how did lou already know it would be pts, or anything of the sort? what was this specialist supposed to do if the vet had just diagnosed eddie with some regular dog disease?

i was so caught up in the euphoria of steve attempting to communicate emotions and the whole ohana pulling together to help eddie that i almost forgot about the car crash, oh shit. danny of course can’t get cell service, because these things always happen in the middle of nowhere in fiction, because it would have been too easy if he could have just called an ambulance.

the new vet super clearly telling steve that this is in no way his fault and that he shouldn’t feel wrecked with guilt over eddie’s pain is !! very good!!! this episode is about eddie’s pts, but steve’s getting to work through some issues too, here, wow.

steve calls tani on the way back home with eddie and tani is just randomly in a car with quinn?? i love it. it’s super unclear to me if they’re working today or if they’re just hanging out in a car, plus quinn doesn’t say a single word in this entire scene, but i love that she’s there, regardless.

OOF. mystery woman has been impaled on some thing that stuck through the back of her car seat, and yes, that’s definitely some great drama and not something i saw coming, but also. oh my god. i don’t think that should be a thing that happens if you’re in a crash that left the car pretty well intact overall, so who the hell designed a car that sometimes sticks something metal through the passenger seat if it rolls?

mystery woman: “just tell me. just don’t lie to me, please don’t lie to me now.” OKAY a) this is very brave of her and i still love her a lot, b) PLEASE DON’T LIE TO ME is a very loaded thing to hear one of danny’s love interests tell him to his face because of danny’s aforementioned penchant for lying to them. this is a very different situation and he was just trying to keep her calm, but still.

“it’s a little bad” is both objectively the truth (well done, danny, proud of you too this episode) and a hilarious way to describe the situation. unintentionally hilarious, for sure, but hilarious.

the guy tani and quinn talk to at the base is really helpful and nice! “i hope the warrior is better soon”, aww.

tani, reporting on eddie to quinn: “mcgarrett was trying to settle him for a nap. he did lap up some of the water from the bowl that i brought though, so that’s good.” quinn, with absolutely no change in expression: “huh, that’s weird. did you tell him the water was for eddie.” i am. i am giggling so much. this is exactly my kind of humor and it was perfectly timed to release the pent-up tension from everything that is happening, thank you, quinn.

tani and quinn have a talk about tani’s worry about junior and HOW is this episode suddenly so filled with absolutely awesome moments for female characters, i am flabbergasted. i mean, really really happy because i love the mystery woman and the vet was perfect and now we’re getting some beautiful tani & quinn interaction while they’re helping steve out, but this was not what i expected to find in this episode.

everybody wants to help eddie and it’s making me cry, ahhh.

AHA. danny and mystery woman talk about rachel!! danny says they’ve been “sorta trying to work it out for the last year or so” and then that “we’re better of as friends” and on the one hand i’m REALLY GLAD we’re getting some kind of word on this, because it was odd enough as was but now that danny seemed to be open to dating someone else it was even more necessary to know he’s not still dating rachel too, but on the other hand i’m kind of sad it’s second-hand? i’d have liked an episode with rachel actually in it to work this out.

ohhhh god. danny hears a car so he wants to go up to the road to stop it, but mystery woman tells him to stay, but he goes anyway, so wanna bet that when he gets back after he probably doesn’t even manage to stop the car, mystery woman is dead? eep.

oh! that went a lot quicker than expected and mystery woman is in fact still blinking when danny approaches the crashed car again, so she is not dead yet! good news! now danny gets to watch her die, hooray!

tani and quinn walk onto steve’s beach and that’s such an odd sight but also a really nice one!

ohhh, they were headed for the neighbor. and then they say hi and introduce themselves as people who work with steve and this woman immediately starts rambling about the biodiversity of hawaii, no holds barred and with the hugest smile about it, and here we have ANOTHER woman i immediately love with all my heart, holy shit.

i was a little afraid that they might have to fight the lovely neighbor to get the plant that triggered eddie’s pts removed, but they DON’T, they really really don’t have to fight her because she immediately gets it and says she’ll get rid of the plant in question and that makes me very happy on so many levels.

danny manages to stop a truck!!! and this guy asks zero questions about all the blood on danny’s clothes, but i guess that’s a good thing at this point.

!!! eddie and steve are cuddling on the couch and quinn goes “aww, look at you two. love is real.” and YES. i RELATE.

okay, everything about this scene is perfect, actually, because tani jumps in to agree with quinn and then quinn says the chasing somebody to the airport like they do in romcoms is a little psycho, and that really doesn’t absolve the h50 writers of slightly psycho things they’ve done when it comes to romantic relationships but i like the burn anyway, ha.

STEVE OPENS UP TO QUINN AND TANI about relating to eddie’s panic and feelings of being lost and he’s basically saying “yeah, i know what pts is like” and i just. i am full of emotions. thank you, whoever wrote this.

oh gOD though, tani asks steve how danny is and steve says “i spoke to him this morning, he is good” and that’s obviously a painful moment to be saying that seeing as we, as the audience, know how danny is actually doing at that moment.

and then there’s a knock at the door and quinn says “maybe that’s him now” and steve gets up as he says “not unless he forgot his key” and i SCREAM. it makes total sense that danny would have a key, and doubly so because he’s literally been living at steve’s for months, but they WAY they just casually had him throw that out there is QUITE SOMETHING.

oh danggg, it’s adam.

huh. steve welcomes him home and hugs him and i’m a little confused because wasn’t there still a criminal investigation pending for adam’s actions? did that get resolved? wasn’t steve still a little mad at him and completely unsure what was happening?

ah, we get a somewhat dramatic zoom on steve’s face that tells us that steve definitely still has questions.

so danny climbs back down to the crashed car after calling for help and he tells mystery woman that his name is danny and THEN she dies, right before she can tell him her name. at this point i’ve been expecting it for ages and it’s not exactly a shock, but jfc, they definitely managed to pick a very traumatic moment for this to happen.

danny just... gets back up to the road and starts walking away as the ambulances arrive and that’s a nice and symbolic end but also, uh, some poor emt is going to have to jog after him and try to wrestle him into an ambulance to get himself checked out. danny. danny, come back.

in the end, i !!! REALLY LOVED this episode. i didn’t expect to, because i was pretty sure mystery woman would die and i wasn’t into the idea of introducing a love interest for danny and then killing her off. truth be told, i’m still not into that and i hate that she had to die to give danny a painful episode (and that we still don’t know her name, which i get from the storytelling perspective because it adds a layer of pain but it also feels kind of bad from a please-respect-women perspective that she’s quite literally nameless), BUT at least i really really loved her character, which is honestly already more than i thought would happen, and THEN there was the other plot this episode!! the one with steve working through trauma and eddie getting help from everyone and tani and quinn being awesome and us getting to meet one of steve’s neighbors for the first time and her turning out to be an adorable plant nerd, and all of that, i adored it. i know danny’s car crash was supposed to be the center of this episode, but for me it kind of got swept aside by my elation over what was happening in steve’s house, and all the really awesome women this episode threw at us, holy shit.

#h50 #10.14 #i did not expect to be this excited after watching this episode but I AM #*#h50 spoilers

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fasterthanmydemons · 4 years

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I want to ask a smart, interesting question that makes the mun think but I can't think of any so... *is thirsty for Pietro in 30 different languages*

WHAT’S THAT?! YOU WANT ME TO WRITE ABOUT PIETRO AND LANGUAGES?! OKAY!

I’m running with your smart, interesting question... You see what I did there... XDDD Actually Imma expand this to just Maximoff twins and languages, because it’s interesting to compare the two...

Both twins excel in learning languages, but in completely different ways. This has resulted in them having some common languages that are not native to them, but different levels of understanding of them, as well as languages that the other does not know.

Growing up, Wanda and Pietro learned Romani and Transian pretty much at the same time, although they consider Romani to be their native tongue. By “Romani,” I don’t mean Romanian, but rather a dialect of Romani (there are many) which is spoken by Roma clans. The Roma people are an ethno-religious group of people, spanning many different countries, so there are many different dialects, religious nuances, and genetic origins that contribute to the Roma people. A large number of them are dark-skinned, Jewish, and of Indian or Indo-European ancestry, but they aren’t limited to that. The way I get around using the MCU FCs for Wanda and Pietro (who are decidedly light-skinned) is by borrowing from their comic backgrounds to say that they are adopted. Their birth parents were light-skinned but of European and Jewish descent, while their adoptive parents were dark-skinned and of Roma descent. Thus, despite looking “White,” the twins identify as Romani and consider the Romani dialect their adoptive parents spoke as their native language. Not that they ever knew they were adopted, though... But anyway, it’s a language they would be far better at speaking than writing, since it would be a largely conversational and colloquial language with a lot of informal slang and adapted phrases, rather than a formal language derived from a written one.

Transian was the language of a fictional country in the Marvel universe as the country the twins lived in before being forced to move after Wanda was attacked as a young child for being a witch. They would probably also largely speak this one instead of writing it, as they used it most often before the age of six. Once they left Transia, the family spoke Romani rather than Transian during the nomadic period where they traveled in their vardo rather than having a permanent residence.

Once the family settled in Sokovia, the twins began to learn it from hearing it around the city they lived in as well as reading it on television and in newspapers, although their understanding of the language was incomplete for the first couple years they lived there. By the time they were orphaned at ten, they were fluent speakers, but when alone together, they exclusively spoke Romani. However, since the twins continued to live in Sokovia and were bounced around to different foster homes, their mastery of the language continued. By the time they were teenagers living on the streets, Pietro had excelled a lot more at learning conversational Sokovian rather than formal written Sokovian than Wanda had by virture of the fact that he was more outgoing and spoke to a lot of the city folk. Wanda was introverted and shy and often relied on Pietro to communicate for her, resulting in her having less conversational proficiency as far as local slang with Sokovian than Pietro.

During this time, Pietro picked up on a lot of other languages that Wanda did not, although his understanding of them was incomplete and he might not even know himself what language certain phrases or words were from. This is because travel through Sokovia to get to other Eastern European countries was very common, so Pietro heard a lot of immigrants and vacationers speaking their own language. And because he was outgoing and liked to help local people, he also found himself translating at times - or at least attempting to - in order to facilitate people getting along with each other. So he was picking up parts of Bulgarian, Greek, Turkish, even Serbian, Romanian, and Ukrainian.

Pietro is very intelligent, but he has a hard time concentrating on things like reading, studying, and learning languages from sheer vocabulary and grammar lessons alone. However, put him in a room of people that don’t all speak the same language, and eventually he will start picking things up. He’s very good with it, actually... a lot better than Wanda is. Wanda learns better from formal lessons and books and reading on her own, partially because she doesn’t have her brother’s concentration issues, but also because crowds and people she doesn’t know make her nervous, so she’s often not comfortable enough to be receptive to learning languages in casual conversation.

Once the twins ended up in the Hydra lab, they were forced to learn certain things that the organization thought would eventually make them more efficient and versatile spies. Languages was one of the things they really tried to drill into the twins. Wanda excelled at her lessons, but Pietro did not. So the English, French, German, etc. that they wanted the twins to learn was learned well by Wanda but not so much by Pietro. He had his usual trouble concentrating that the confined quarters, punishments, deprivations, and threat of Wanda being hurt only exacerbated. Wanda would try to help him learn so that he wouldn’t be punished, but he really had a hard time.

This is the reason why Pietro can sometimes sound very stilted in those languages, not at all natural, and can even have trouble thinking of certain words or phrases he wants to say. Those languages do not come naturally to him, so he has to really think about what he’s saying. It’s also the reason why Pietro’s accent when speaking English is much more pronounced and his speak more broken than Wanda’s is in that language. The more tired, frustrated, angry, upset, or distracted Pietro is, the more pronounced his accent will become and the worse his grammar and use of words will become as well. The same is true of Wanda, but not to the same degree.

The end result is that Pietro often uses more informal, slang, colloquial ways of speaking because that’s what he’s comfortable with. That’s what he’s learned through experience by talking with native speakers of the languages, so it’s settled in his brain more naturally and become second nature. Wanda’s speech is more formal, more streamlined, more grammatically correct, and more nuanced as far as word choice because she has studied vocabulary and grammar more extensively and retained more of that information.

Of course that is only true for non-native languages. When speaking their native Romani, they chatter on at light speed fluently and naturally using as much slang - and sometimes profanity - as they want, haha. That is the language they will break into when shocked, surprised, or suddenly upset or angry. Whenever they “forget English” for some reason, it is Romani they will default to, although sometimes they will substitute a word from another language here and there into English because they don’t realize it isn’t English. They learned so many languages in a short number of years that the words are sometimes a bit jumbled and crossed over.

Pietro often feels like his more fragmented English is a sign of low intelligence, when in fact, in many other languages it is Wanda who will sound more foreign, have a heavier accent, or will speak in an unnaturally formal way. Pietro will sound more natural in some cases because the languages he’s retained are largely what people would speak in their everyday lives. Wanda would sound either aristocratic, eccentric, arrogant, or just plain silted in some language because she is using the 100% formal, proper, grammatically correct forms of verbs and articles an things. With regard to English, Wanda begins to learn a lot more casual ways of speaking once she comes to live with the Avengers. Although, after Pietro dies, whenever she is alone and talking to him, she still speaks to him in Romani. And that just hit me in the feels. XD

Alright, that’s all I’ve got on that subject, but if you have any further questions about this topic, feel free to send them along. Thank you for sending this in! =)

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