#irrelevant brambling
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Jade giving massive "cat who Immediately detects bad vibes" here with rupert
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it actually is so bullshit that mothwing is so defined by her relationship to hawkfrost and how they grew up together and he ended up mistreating her, and that the erins just couldn’t care less about her relationship with her half siblings. hawkfrost is allowed to have some contrived half baked thing with brambleclaw but mothwing has zero family left and i guess they all just pretend shes this totally unrelated girl or something
#mothwing is alderhearts aunt. think about that#itd be interesting if like moth was estranged from bramble and tawny cause she cannot relate to them and she also hates bramble#but that isnt really. intentional ig? iirc its only briefly mentioned in mothwings secret where she says theyd never understand her#and also bramble just focusing on ‘’omg i have a BROTHER!! idgaf about sisters’’#tbh its so irrelevant that shes a tigerkid that i made a joke about hollypaw calling her aunt mothwing cause she thinks she and aunt leaf#are dating#but i completely forgot that she’s technically considered her aunt anyways cause they thought bramble was her dad#really tho its so bullshit to put the onus on the fandom for ''ignoring mothwings relationship with her half siblings''#when the books couldnt care less
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watching other peoples lore videos and immediately closing the page when they call testament "irrelevant to the story"
#bramble rambles#i think this guy is a strive only bc he called a LOT of important shit 'irrelevant'#including whole ass games like ggx and gg2#so ive decided. most people who claim to love gg lore know fuck all and only care about the bits where their blorbos are relevant#his fave is happy chaos. it checks out#if youre gonna do a lore explanation video can you at LEAST make sure its actually fucking correct before you write off entire GAMES
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honestly the brambly hedge tv series is so good. the original stories are fairly short so to make a 25 min episode the stories had to be embellished, but they're all done so well and with clear love and respect for the original story
I love this show so much
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gotta be honest, I don't think the erins are educated enough on any kind of modern feminism enough to make the sisters Actual t*rfs. Like, I think they looked at the concept of them and went "ooooooooooo evil man hating feminists I love this" instead of "these fictional cats reduce personhood to if their fellow cats have uteruses (and white features) and they're also 4channers about it" and if they did, the book still expects you not to side with them. After all squirrel is written like the "bitchy villain" of her own book (because the author of SH has gone on record to say she hates squilf, why the fuck is she writing squilf's book!) so anything that squirrel does or sympathizes with is meant to be looked at in a bad light. (this is proven by bramble being an abusive fuck and Kate going "well yea bramble's a good dude how could you think he was doing anything wrong" after SH was written. like we were meant to agree the abuse was good and honourable as long as it was committed against squilf)
tldr because I got rambly with my "fuck the erins" train: what I'm saying is is that the erins are so ideologically Stupid that they wouldn't know t*rfism well enough to praise/criticize it and even if they DID, the erins' idea of feminism is firmly stuck in the 2nd wave and Deeply irrelevant for any purpose besides south-park-style stereotyping.
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Go to the Light by Death by Bramble is surprisingly Gwen-coded
Being alone in a world that hates her, fighting to make things right (keeping the spark alive), Dark theatre being canon events, teeth like a cone being Miguel's
Feeling alone in a society and being the only alive Gwen there, surrounded by faces of her dead friend, scraping a few extra moments with Miles before her own canon event happens.
Becoming irrelevant in other spiderman stories, having to change her name in other worlds, not including twisted versions of herself.
Redeeming herself for everyone she hurt (intentionally or not)
and ofc the light here being portals
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Catching up with Les Mis Letters since I haven't really managed to keep up properly this week:
1.1.10
The sun was setting, and had almost touched the horizon when the Bishop arrived at the excommunicated spot. With a certain beating of the heart, he recognized the fact that he was near the lair. He strode over a ditch, leaped a hedge, made his way through a fence of dead boughs, entered a neglected paddock, took a few steps with a good deal of boldness, and suddenly, at the extremity of the waste land, and behind lofty brambles, he caught sight of the cavern.
It was a very low hut, poor, small, and clean, with a vine nailed against the outside.
Near the door, in an old wheel-chair, the armchair of the peasants, there was a white-haired man, smiling at the sun.
^ This is a long passage to quote but I just HAD to highlight the writing here. Hugo's way of playing with the expectation and subversion makes his text just so much fun to read. The build up to the reveal of a monster, using language that's full of connotations: lair, wasteland, cavern... and then the simple, harmless reality.
It doesn't even matter that you can see it coming, it still works, because it demonstrates Myriel's mindset without spelling it out.
I love this chapter so much and I don't even know if I have the energy to get into all the reasons why. The fact that it's such a great response to the first nine chapters, the counter-argument to Myriel. How it perfectly sets up the themes of the novel; on the one hand the message of goodness and charity, on the other the harsh fact that it will never be enough. That in fact violence and terror are inherent in society already and the present system must be destroyed to get rid of them, even if there's no peaceful way to do it. That the violence against the status quo isn't any more violent than the status quo itself.
And that is tragic, and it is difficult to accept, but that doesn't make it less true. He doesn't shy away from mentioning the painful facts about the former prince. But he also reminds you that this is not a valid argument against pursuing justice. You can and should weep for all the children, not just those who were born into privilege.
And it humanises Myriel more than any other chapter, reminds you that he has natural human flaws and biases and pettiness. He wasn't just born perfect. He had those unpleasant instincts, but he did his best to conquer them.
Then there's the tragedy of this scene! As others have pointed out, these two could have been friends, could have given each other so much, but they were kept apart by prejudice on both sides until it was too late. Myriel's slightly hypocritical prejudice that kept him away despite his belief in giving everyone a chance, including bandits! And it's understandable because it's a result of his own background, but it is what it is all the same. And on the other hand G's equally understandable prejudice against bishops, that still lead him to misjudge Myriel and never try to reach out to this person who was doing so much work that G would undoubtedly have approved of.
(Sidenote: shout out to Myriel for having the right instinct not to get defensive about G's wrongful accusations and end up arguing over irrelevant things rather than what really mattered in G's final moments. Especially since he was basically mirroring Myriel's own thoughts so it would have been one of those dumb "no I agree with you!" kind of arguments.)
Both of them isolated for their beliefs, both of them missing the opportunity to find some camaraderie and understanding in each other, even despite their differences in opinion. It hurts.
1.1.12
Don't have a lot to say right now about 1.1.12, but I have to point out that "this infectious virtue is avoided" is a great line
Also the whole speech about success has so many bangers, as others have mentioned
Is the duck reference another pun on canard btw?
1.1.13
one of those strong, thoroughly tried, and indulgent souls where thought is so grand that it can no longer be anything but gentle.
love this concept
some flowers on earth, and all the stars in the sky.
love this line
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February 19th, 2023
Hey, nice to meet you
Diagonal pass to established connection in the group
Oh cool (insert object]
I know, I got them at this store
Oh my god no way, it looks so good
What do you use it for
Oh sick, nice
I know someone that has one
It's like so hard to maintain
Oh is it, wicked
Yeah you have to try really hard
Oh my god no way
Yeah, I'll like try and then give up
Haha, yeah, so tough
So have you seen the new (insert thing)?
Meanwhile, I am dying for real
Squeezing it out, and it gets stuck in the brambles of small talk
A conversation of background noise
And one liners from television shows you don't watch twice but you might as well have
Things that come and then go having not even remotely impressed you, let alone moved you
Everyone is allergic to feeling so we keep it irrelevant
Car colours and snack crispness and shallow thoughts
So as to not offend sensibilities
Automatic talk, small thoughts in a big world
Wasted private meetings
No plots, only plans for next Tuesday
Some beers
Some punchlines
Some elevator music
Not having met you, just seen you through a filter
#small talk#thoughts#actuall autistic#ND#NT#neurotypical conversations#authenticity#connection#my writing
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Sometimes I turn my mind's eye inward, and find a fixed landscape.
There is a small cottage in a field of short green grass, near a lake. The grass extends out as far as can be seen, and there is a ring of mountains at the horizon. The cottage is small, with white paneled exterior walls and red roofing. Inside is enough space for perhaps four people to live comfortably. It is fully furnished and otherwise stocked but has clearly not been used. The lake is relatively shallow, I could wade through it without having to swim. In the center of the lake is an island, and on that island are some old ruins. Perhaps an altar or a shrine that had been lost to the ages, the original form and purpose is unknown. At the cottage-side part of the shore is an old shriveled tree. It has no leaves, and appears to be dead. There is an opening in the bark, with stone steps leading down, down.
Down.
The next area is underground a mighty fortress built around a hill. At the summit is a small tower topped with a beacon. The light reaches far beyond the walls of the fortress to a forest of twisted bramble-trees. Golden clockwork knights with crystalline prisms for heads are busy, constantly moving from one area to the next. Dragging the "wounded" when needed. From beyond the walls, horrid shrieks and snarls. Creatures made of a black, oily substance, with plates and spines and claws of stark white bone. Occasionally they intrude on the light, especially when a hulking juggernaut is around, attempting to attack the gates. And yet they are held off, at times by the deployment of an equally monstrous machine.
Next is a chamber further underground. The room is octagonal, with pillars midway from the corners. Everything is made of a red brick, with faded and worn runes on them. In the center is a well, filled with a black oily liquid, the same as the creatures from the layer above. This is a creature itself, the pool. But it is not a source of the fluid, more like an outlet from the source. It is best not to linger here, all of those creatures are hostile, but this one is especially large and old.
A separate realm, a world away. Grey, crumbling ruins floating in a void. Multiple archways, glowing portals to other places. One of them containing what could be described as a literal black light. The source. There is a being here, watching over the portals and tending the ruins. A figure in grey robes marked with similar runes. Hands are like those of a human, but of a light grey color. Despite floating, and having an otherwise human build, there are no legs. Tips of tendrils can perhaps be spotted from the bottom occasionally. The face is hooded in darkness, all that is visible is multiple yellow eyes. The being is old and,,, patient. Or more like, time is completely irrelevant to it. It would be content to be here for another two years, or two thousand years. This keeper would not care.
There are other worlds as well, but they are blurry and indistinct. They haven't been explored yet. They haven't been created yet.
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Book 68, 2023
A thing about comedy is how quickly it evolves compared to other forms of creative work. Which means, I think, that unlike in film where you can still look back to movies made in the 1930s and 1940s and recognize it as a movie and it's likely still inspiring contemporary filmmakers in in the 2020s. "Classic" in the sense of film, literature, and music implies something that has a timeless quality, that continues to resonate long after the time it was created in. You don't get that so much in comedy.
We're aware of /old/ comedy, but, perhaps because there's a reluctance to dissect the frog, we don't reflect on it critically or with the same eye to its evolution as a source of interest. I've even heard people -- funny people, people I respect and whose work I enjoy -- say that they don't really find anything pre-1980 genuinely funny. (This is wrong, as much as any objective thing can be wrong.)
All of this is a long walk to say I don't know how familiar people younger than me are with Spike Milligan. I'm not sure how familiar people /my age/ are with Spike Milligan, especially in North America. But you're probably familiar with people who were inspired by Spike Milligan -- most famously, Monty Python. And if you've never actually engaged with Monty Python, well, they inspired The Kids in the Hall. And if The Kids in the Hall are too old for you and etc. unto infinity. If you've enjoyed anything in the English language that has bumped against the idea of alternative comedy, you can do a geneological comedy tree back to Spike Milligan and his 1950s BBC radio show, "The Goon Show".
I read the first of his war memoirs, "Adolf Hitler: My Part in His Downfall", which was on my shelf for reasons of issues in the relationship with my father. It's a short little book, covering Milligan's conscription to their arrival in Algeria in January 1943. It's shambolic and irrelevant, full of scribbled cartoons, but it brushes against sincerity and personal and archival photos also feature. It's at times manic, absurdity thrown after old groaner after dick joke. It's a real spaghetti at the wall approach to comedy but the spaghetti and the plates are infinite and being thrown by a pitching machine. You get a joke about how loose all the women Milligan knew and only a few pages later you get pastoral, pre-shipping out reflections like:
No matter what season, the Sussex countryside was always a pleasure. But the summer of 1941 was a delight. The late lambs on springheel legs danced their happiness. Hot, immobile cows chewed sweet cud under the leaf-choked limbs of June oaks that were young 500 years past. The musk of bramble and blackberry hedges, with purple-black fruit offering themselves to passing hands, poppies red, red, red, tracking the sun with open-throated petals, birds bickering aloft, bibulous to the sun. White fleecy clouds passing high, changing shapes as if uncertain of what they were. To break for a smoke, to lie in that beckoning grass and watch cabbage white butterflies dancing on the wind. Everywhere was saying bethankit. It was hop picking time. In 1941 the pickers were real cockneys who, to the consternation of the A.R.P. Wardens, lit bonfires at night and sang roistering songs under the stars.
It's a strange little book, absolutely written by a man of its time who has no interest in puffing himself up, and the fact that this book ends just as Milligan and the rest of his artillery unit are being deployed means it's light. Milligan doesn't bog down his anecdotes with much in the way of dwelling on who won't be coming back from the war. He's focused in the moment of the thing.
I'm not a war guy, but I am a comedy guy, and Milligan doesn't really give you time or space to NOT enjoy his reminiscences.
#2023 books#spike milligan#adolf hitler: my part in his downfall#comedy#wra#memoirs#a long walk to a short point
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Happy Gwendoline Christie Gwednesday
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February 19th, 2023
Hey, nice to meet you
Diagonal pass to established connection in the group
Oh cool (insert object]
I know, I got them at this store
Oh my god no way, it looks so good
What do you use it for
Oh sick, nice
I know someone that has one
It's like so hard to maintain
Oh is it, wicked
Yeah you have to try really hard
Oh my god no way
Yeah, I'll like try and then give up
Haha, yeah, so tough
So have you seen the new (insert thing)?
Meanwhile, I am dying for real
Squeezing it out, and it gets stuck in the brambles of small talk
A conversation of background noise
And one liners from television shows you don't watch twice but you might as well have
Things that come and then go having not even remotely impressed you, let alone moved you
Everyone is allergic to feeling so we keep it irrelevant
Car colours and snack crispness and shallow thoughts
So as to not offend sensibilities
Automatic talk, small thoughts in a big world
Wasted private meetings
No plots, only plans for next Tuesday
Some beers
Some punchlines
Some elevator music
Not having met you, just seen you through a filter
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holy shit there are like three episodes of brambly hedge in finnish on youtube!!
nostalgia time fuckers!!!
#erina's irrelevant babbling#brambly hedge#i love the cottagecore mice#i want whatever mr and mrs apple have going on
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"Quick question, what do I do about the spores? Does this thing stop those too?"
"Oh, I didn't actually think of that. You're more vulnerable as a slime than us bugs," they pause, then shrug, "don't touch the spores I guess."
## that's not very helpful ##
"Will do. Sorry we couldn't be more help with Bramble.."
Soot stops again and sighs. "It's fine. Like you said, no sense adding void trouble on top of everything. I gotta go." They walk briskly away, the light from their little lantern growing smaller and smaller until they turn a corner and vanish.
You turn your attention to the sword. The solid chunk of crystal it’s cut from has a few scratches and nicks on the side, but the edge is immaculate and sharp. The bottom of the hilt looks like it used to have more attached to it. Perhaps it was part of a larger weapon? It’s got a solid heft to it, and you feel like if you had to you could definitely swing it, tho it’s still too heavy to handle with finesse.
##it's weird that they're just letting us borrow this, yeah? We'd better take care of it##
“Uh, hmm… You said you felt something in there?”
##Yeah, I think this sword has a mind of its own. Lemme see if I can reach out and talk to it#
You focus your thoughts on contacting the sword, allowing your consciousness to poke outwards. Something reaches back, a sensation as tho dark tendrils are wrapping inquisitively around your thoughts. It feels familiar, perhaps something you experienced in your past life?
Visions of an eye resting within a sort of shattered diamond shape fill your thoughts. It stares unblinking at you and Humphrey as you begin to converse.
$$ CONNECTION ESTABLISHED — HELLO $$
##Do you have a name?##
$$ OUR NAME IS GODRENDER $$
##That’s pretty intense. Have you rent many gods?##
$$ … THAT IS IRRELEVANT $$
“Can we use you to fight these mushrooms?” you ask.
$$ PROCESSING … YOU MAY CARRY US — HOWEVER WE TIRE OF THIS ENDLESS BATTLE $$
##What do you mean? It kind of seems like you’re made for this##
$$ WE WERE MADE TO KILL GODS — NOT MUSHROOMS $$
“Do you have an alternative?”
$$ YES — FIND A WAY TO STOP THE MUSHROOMS PERMANENTLY — DO THIS AND YOU MAY HAVE FULL AUTHORIZATION OVER THIS BLADE $$
##How do we do that?##
$$ THERE IS A HEART DEEP IN THE THICK OF THE MUSHROOMS — IT MUST BE EITHER PURIFIED OR DESTROYED — HOWEVER IT IS DONE DOES NOT MATTER — JUST GET RID OF THIS STUFF SO I CAN FINALLY GO KILL A GOD $$
$$ … A THING I HAVE DEFINITELY DONE -- MULTIPLE TIMES $$
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Just a bro and his bro’s
#theyre hens but thats irrelevant#chickens#pet chickens#clarity#celtic#golden laced wyandotte#silver laced wyandotte#erudice#bramble#ameraucana
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Whatever the next arc is really about I just hope Bramble and Squirrel are mostly irrelevant. They've been important to the story for every arc since new prophesy in some way and it got boring in the fourth arc. Ironically I think they're least important in avos but they still play a big part with the story indirectly, it being about their kits, their debut arc as leader and deputy, and getting their supereditions on either end of the arc.
On one hand with their grandson Flamepaw being a protagonist it would be weird to me for them not to be at least somewhat relevant
But on the other hand I feel like how the Erins might deal with the Bramblestar controversy could just be to shove him and Squirrelflight in the background for a bit and hope everyone forgets
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