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writingwithcolor · 3 years

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I'm writing an AU of a movie that takes place in the 1880s USA, where a travelling white character and a Jewish character are waylaid by Native Americans, who they befriend. Probably because it was written by and about PoC (Jews) the scene actually avoids the stuff on your Native American Masterpost, but I'd still like to do better than a movie made in the 1980's, and I feel weird cutting them from the plot entirely. I have a Jewish woman reading it for that, but are there any things you (1/1)

2/2 1880s western movie ask--are there things you'd LIKE to see in a movie where a white man and a Jewish man run into Native Americans in the 1880s? I do plan to base them on a real tribe (Ute, probably) and have proper housing/clothes and so forth, but right now I'm just trying to avoid or subvert awful cowboy movie tropes. Any ideas?

White and Jewish Men, Native American interactions in 1880s

I am vaguely concerned with how you only cite one of our posts about Native Americans, that was not written by a Native person, and do not cite any of the posts relating to this time period, or any posts relating to representation in media.

Sidenote: if you want us to give accurate reflections of the media you’re discussing, please tell us the NAME. I cannot go look up this movie based off this description to give you an idea of what my issues are with this scene, and must instead trust that the representation is good based off your judgement. I cannot make my own judgement. This is a problem. Especially since your whole question boils down to “this scene is good but not great and I want it to be great. How can I do that?”

Your baseline for “good” could very well be my baseline for “terrible hack job”. I can’t give you the proper education required for you to be able to accurately evaluate the media you’re watching for racist stereotypes if you don’t tell me what you’re even working with.

When you’re writing fanfic where the media is directly relevant to the question, please tell us the name of the media. We will not judge your tastes. We need this information in order to properly help you.

Moving on.

I bring up my concern for you citing that one—exceptionally old—post because it is lacking in many of the tropes that don’t exist in the media critique field but exist in the real world. This is an issue I have run into countless times on WWC (hence further concern you did not cite any other posts) and have spoken about at length.

People look at the media critique world exclusively, assume it is a complete evaluation of how Native Americans are seen in society, and as a result end up ignoring some really toxic stereotypes and then come to the inbox with “these characters aren’t abc trope, so they’re fine, but I want to rubber stamp them anyway. Anything wrong here?”. The answer is pretty much always yes.

Issue one: “Waylaid” by Native Americans

This wording is extremely loaded for one reason: Native American people are seen as tricksters, liars, and predators. This is the #1 trope that shows up in the real world that does not show up in media critique. It’s also the trope I have talked about the most when it comes to media representation, so you not knowing the trope is a sign you haven’t read the entirety of the Native tag—which is in the FAQ as something we would really prefer you did before coming at us to answer questions. It avoids us having to re-explain ourselves.

Now, hostility is honestly to be expected for the time period the movie is set in. This is in the beginnings (or ramping up) of residential schools in America* and Canada, we have generations upon generations of stolen or killed children, reserves being allocated perhaps hundreds of miles from sacred sites, and various wars with Plains and Southwest peoples are in full force (Wounded Knee would have happened in 1890, in December, and the Dakoa’s mass execution would have been in 1862. Those are just the big-name wars. There absolutely were others).

*America covers up its residential schools abuse extremely thoroughly, so if you try to research them in the American context you will come up empty. Please research Canada’s schools and apply the same abuse to America, as Canada has had a Truth and Reconciliation Commission about residential schools and therefore is more (but not completely) transparent about the abuse that happened. Please note that America’s history with residential schools is longer than Canada’s history. There is an extremely large trigger warning for mass child death when you do this research.

But just because the hostility is expected does not mean that this hostility would be treated well in the movie. Especially when you consider the sheer amount of tension between any Native actors and white actors, for how Sacheen Littlefeather had just been nearly beaten up by white actors at the 1973 Academy Awards for mentioning Wounded Knee, and the American Indian Religious Freedom Act had only been passed two years prior in 1978.

These Native actors would not have had the ability to truly consent to how they were shown, and this power dynamic has to be in your mind when you watch this scene over. I don’t care that the writers were from a discriminated-against background. This does not always result in being respectful, and I’ve also spoken about this power imbalance at length (primarily in the cowboy tag).

Documentaries and history specials made in the 2010s (with some degree of academic muster) will still fall into wording that harkens Indigenous people to wolves and settlers as frightened prey animals getting picked off by the mean animalistic Natives. This is not neutral, or good. This is perpetuating the myth that the settlers were helpless, just doing their own thing completely unobtrusively, and then the evil territorial Native Americans didn’t want to share.

To paraphrase Batman: if I had a week I couldn’t explain all the reasons that’s wrong.

How were these characters waylaid by the Native population? Because that answer—which I cannot get because you did not name the media—will determine how good the framing is. But based on the time period this movie was made alone, I do not trust it was done respectfully.

Issue 2: “Befriending”

I mentioned this was in an intense period of residential schools and land wars all in that area. The Ute themselves had just been massacred by Mormons in the Grass Valley Massacre in 1865, with ten men and an unknown number of women and children killed thanks to a case of assumed association with a war chief (Antonga Black Hawk) currently at war with Utah. The Paiute had been massacred in 1866. Over 100 Timpanogo men had been killed, with an unknown number of women and children enslaved by Brigham Young in Salt Lake City in 1850, with many of the enslaved people dying in captivity (those numbers were not tracked, but I would assume at least two hundred were enslaved— that’s simply assuming one woman/wife and one child for every man, and the numbers could have very well been higher if any war-widows and their children were in the group, not to mention families with multiple children). This is after an unknown group of Indigenous people had been killed by Governor Brigham Young the year prior, to “permanently stop cattle theft” from settlers.

The number of Native Americans killed in Utah in the 1800s—just the number of dead counted (since women and children weren’t counted)—in massacres not tied to war (because there was at least one war) is over 130. The actual number of random murders is much higher; between the uncounted deaths and how the Governor had issued orders to “deal with” the problem of cattle theft permanently. I doubt you would have been tried or convicted if you murdered Indigenous peoples on “your” land. This is why it’s called state sanctioned genocide.

This is not counting the Black Hawk War in Utah (1865-1872), which the Ute were absolutely a part of (the wiki articles I read were contradictory if Antonga Black Hawk was Ute or Timpanogo, but the Ute were part of it). The first official massacre tied to the war—the Bear River Massacre, ordered by the US Military—places the death count of just that singular massacre at over five hundred Shoshone, including elders, women, and children. It would not be unreasonable to assume that the number of Indigenous people killed in Utah from 1850, onward, is over a thousand, perhaps two or three.

Pardon me for not reading beyond that point to list more massacres and simply ballparking a number; the source will be linked for you to get an accurate number of dead.

So how did they befriend the Native population? Let alone see them as fully human considering the racism of the time period? Natives were absolutely not seen as fully human so long as they were tied to their culture, and assimilation equalling some sliver of respect was already a stick being waved around as a threat. This lack of humanity continues to the present day.

I’m not saying friendship is impossible. I am saying the sheer levels of mistrust that would exist between random wandering groups of white/pale men and Indigenous communities wouldn’t exactly make that friendship easy. Having the scene end be a genuine friendship feels ignorant and hollow and flattening of ongoing genocide, because settlers lied about their intentions and then lined you up for slauther (that’s how the Timpanogo were killed and enslaved).

Utah had already done most of its mass killing by this point. The era of trusting them was over. There was an active open hunting season, and the acceptable targets were the Indigenous populations of Utah.

(sources for the numbers:

List of Indian Massacres in North America Black Hawk War (1865-1872))

Issue 3: “Proper housing/clothes and so forth”

Do you mean Western style settlements and jeans? If yes, congratulations you have written a reservation which means the land-ripped-away wounds are going to be fresh, painful, and sore.

You do not codify what you mean by “proper”, and proper is another one of those deeply loaded colonial words that can mean “like a white man” or “appropriate for their tribe.” For the time period, it would be the former. Without specifying which direction you’re going for, I have no idea what you’re imagining. And without the name of the media, I don’t know what the basis of this is.

The reservation history of this time period seems to maybe have some wiggle room; there were two reservations allocated for the Ute at this time, one made in 1861 and another made in 1882 (they were combined into the Uintah and Ouray Indian Reservation in 1886). This is all at the surface level of a google and wikipedia search, so I have no idea how many lived in the bush and how many lived on the reserve.

There were certainly land defenders trying to tell Utah the land did not belong to them, so holdouts that avoided getting rounded up were certainly possible. But these holdouts would be far, far more hostile to anyone non-Native.

The Ute seemed to be some degree of lucky in that the reserve is on some of their ancestral territory, but any loss of land that large is going to leave huge scars.

It should be noted that reserves would mean the traditional clothing and housing would likely be forbidden, because assimilation logic was in full force and absolutely vicious at this time.

It’s a large reserve, so the possibility exists they could have accidentally ended up within the borders of it. I’m not sure how hostile the state government was for rounding up all the Ute, so I don’t know if there would have been pockets of them hiding out. In present day, half of the Ute tribe lives on the reserve, but this wasn’t necessarily true historically—it could have been a much higher percentage in either direction.

It’s up to you if you want to make them be reservation-bound or not. Regardless, the above mentioned genocide would have been pretty fresh, the land theft in negotiations or already having happened, and generally, the Ute would be well on their way to every assimilation attempt made from either residential schools, missionaries, and/or the forced settlement and pre-fab homes.

To Answer Your Question

I don’t want another flattened, sanitized portrayal of genocide.

Look at the number of dead above, the amount of land lost above, the amount of executive orders above. And try to tell me that these people would be anything less than completely and totally devastated. Beyond traumatized. Beyond broken hearted. Absolutely grief stricken with almost no soul left.

Their religion would have been illegal. Their children would have been stolen. Their land was taken away. A saying about post-apocalyptic fiction is how settler-based it is, because Indigenous people have already lived through their own apocalypse.

It would have all just happened at the time period this story is set in. All of the grief you feel now at the environment changing so drastically that you aren’t sure how you’ll survive? Take that, magnify it by an exponential amount because it happened, and you have the mindset of these Native characters.

This is not a topic to tread lightly. This is not a topic to read one masterpost and treat it as a golden rule when there is too much history buried in unmarked, overfull graves of school grounds and cities and battlefields. I doubt the movie you’re using is good representation if it doesn’t even hint at the amount of trauma these Native characters would have been through in thirty years.

A single generation, and the life that they had spent millennia living was gone. Despite massive losses of life trying to fight to preserve their culture and land.

Learn some history. That’s all I can tell you. Learn it, process it, and look outside of checklists. Look outside of media.

And let us have our grief.

~ Mod Lesya

On Question Framing

Please allow me the opportunity to comment on “are there things you'd LIKE to see in a movie where a white man and a Jewish man run into Native Americans in the 1880s?” That strikes me as the same type of question as asking what color food I’d like for lunch. I don’t see how the cultural backgrounds of characters I have literally no other information about is supposed to make me want anything in particular about them. I don’t know anything about their personalities or if they have anything in common.

Compare the following questions:

“Are there things you’d like to see in a movie where two American women, one from a Nordic background and one Jewish, are interacting?” I struggle to see how our backgrounds are going to yield any further inspiration. It certainly doesn’t tell you that we’re both queer and cling to each other’s support in a scary world; it doesn’t tell you that we uplift each other through mental illness; it doesn’t go into our 30 years of endless bizarre inside jokes related to everything from mustelids to bad subtitles.

Because: “white”, “Jewish”, and “Native American” aren’t personality words. You can ask me what kind of interaction I’d like to see from a high-strung overachieving woman and a happy-go-lucky Manic Pixie Dream Girl, and I’ll tell you I’d want fluffy f/f romance. Someone else might want conflict ultimately resolving in friendship. A third person might want them slowly getting on each other’s nerves more and more until one becomes a supervillain and the other must thwart her. But the same question about a cultural demographic? That told me nothing about the people involved.

Also, the first time I meet a new person from a very different culture, it might take weeks before discussion of our specific cultural differences comes up. As a consequence, my first deep conversations with a Costa Rican American gentile friend were not about Costa Rica or my Jewishness but about things we had in common: classical music and coping with breakups--which are obviously conversations I could have had if we were both Jewish, both Costa Rican gentiles, or both something else. So in other words, I’m having trouble seeing how knowing so little about these characters is supposed to give me something to want to see on the page.

Thank you for understanding.

(And yes, I agree with Lesya, what’s with this trend of people trying to explain their fandom in a roundabout way instead of mentioning it by name? It makes it harder to give meaningful help….)

--Shira

#platypan #genocide #native american #North America #america #history #american history #media #representation #asks

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derangedhyena-delphinidae · 3 years

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numerous issues with “The Aftermath of Seaworld”

When I get time to do so (aka when I’m done with the documentary), I’m likely going to make a video version of this going into the details.

But for right now, I’ve made this. Both as a guideline for me and so everyone can begin to get an idea of the severity of issues involved.

Researching things is time-consuming and can be very difficult - believe me, I know. But I’m of the mind that if you’re making content with the intent of educating people, you have a responsibility to perform a certain level of due diligence. It IS okay to express uncertainty or doubt if you have it. It is NOT okay to confidently assert things that you do not know with certainty.

The video has an anticap slant, and I’m obviously not disagreeing on that front. But again: if you’re gonna go through the trouble of teaching people something. Bare minimum... please make sure it’s actually correct. *** 1) x ‘founded in 1964 and based out of Florida’ - ???? Seaworld definitively began on the west coast, in San Diego, CA. And given that the first park opened in early 1964… things came together before that. Uh? 2) x ‘four people founded Seaworld [...]’ For one… it wasn’t originally conceived as a restaurant, it was originally conceived as an underwater bar/lounge. Two… calling the four guys involved in founding the place “frat brothers” is fucking ridiculous and completely overlooks a) how each was actually involved and b) the overall significance of their contributions to the field as individuals. Hint: like it or not, they were important and did a lot!

3) x If one is going to bring up SWBGCF/rescues while talking about the literal founding of SW, it gives the impression that it’s been around for that duration. It hasn’t. It’s actually a bit unclear when SW started an organized rescue program, but the Fund itself and all that it did came about much later. The rescue information and how it’s presented is actually INCREDIBLY complex, nuanced, and has a fascinating history (from a “bad company behaving badly” perspective). Oversimplifying this, to this degree and in this misinformative way, does the facts of the situation an INCREDIBLE disservice.

4) x [assertive statement about what the name Shamu means] ….Uh actually there’s several explanations for the name Shamu, and the most likely one IMO seems to be the “she-namu” one, not the “friend of Namu” one(? What is this even based on.) 4b) It’s not quite clear if she’s saying “Namu was the first ever orca to be displayed and perform shows” or or Namu was the first to be displayed and, like Shamu, performed shows. Either way, Moby Doll was the first to truly be displayed to the public, not Namu.

5) x ‘Namu died after one year in captivity and you’d think that this might deter Seaworld from doing the same thing again…’ Seaworld truly had nothing to do with Namu. And they leased/took possession of Shamu before Namu died. ‘Again’? What?

6) x “Now, PETA paints a pretty disturbing picture…” [while showing Okura’s artwork] This video segment is, and this is putting it nicely, a pile of poorly-researched BULLSHIT. -Yes, PETA talks about Shamu’s capture, re: the harpooning of her mother. This Youtuber cannot apparently be arsed to look more than 1 Google search into this, as she proceeds to dismiss the information as potentially fabricated. There are two detailed accounts of Shamu’s capture that I’m aware of - in books - and though they have some slight conflicts, it’s absolutely NOT in doubt that the female who was very likely Shamu’s mother was 1) harpooned, 2) died from her injuries and 3) this had been done to make her easier to catch/locate because there was a fucking buoy attached to the harpoon. Which she dragged around for at least 24 hours prior dying. So maybe don’t dismiss that as PETA hysteria, maybe TRY to determine the truth of the matter, which would inform one that it is both true and completely horrifying. -In addition, Okura is an awesome individual who has worked very hard to create a variety of informative artwork for our cause. Okura is NOT associated with PETA and it’s borderline libel in my eyes to use their artwork in this dismissive manner when the primary sources of it can be easily identified online, with full explanations and everything. Do I take special offense to this because of the misuse of artwork? Absolutely. Artists get disrespected enough online. I’m tired of it. This kind of laziness IS NOT acceptable.

7) x ‘timeline is fuzzy about when Shamu died’ …………… it’s…. It’s really not … newspapers are pretty clear about it…..

8) x [complete and utter oversimplification of the lifespan issue, which is not acceptable for anything published in 2020. It just isn’t. If you’re going to bring it up like this, either do the legwork and get into the weeds or stay out.] 8b) [same for reproductive ages. sigh]

9) x if we’re going to talk about when Cornell was involved with Seaworld it’s very important to specify when Cornell was involved with Seaworld and not make it seem like it’s present tense.

10) x “both were rescued by Seaworld” - uh? no. Zero orcas have been rescued by Seaworld. Literally none. The infected-jaw orca was Sandy, whose story is complex and certainly does not involve Seaworld until much later. And many of the orcas in that time period had bullet wounds, often only identified post-mortem because they didn’t seem to hurt the animals much. Also, unflinchingly blending 70s captivity ethics with modern ones is also complete nonsense?

11) x [tilikum coming from sealand] inhales I am going to make an entire video centered on this fucking subject because it’s one of the single most profound arguments for Seaworld being garbage as assessed by US government agencies in the 90s yet everyone utterly fails to mention this. Why?!

12) x what on earth is this nonsense re: quoting a quote from Zimmerman’s article - which has already been removed from its original context, so the original context is not available - and then penalizing the quote for existing as if Zimmerman’s article were the context? That is offensively disingenuous. I honestly don’t know what the original context is, either - but it’s wildly inappropriate to act as if the Zimmerman article is.

13) x this is relatively minor but ‘Paul Sprong’? You literally have his name on the screen. And then mis-reading his age too? While asserting it from a static article published years ago? Effort? Where is it?

14) x ‘another trainer, Peter’ ….. Ken Peters….

15) [weirdly glossing over the widely-available list of orca-trainer injuries/aggressions, despite it being central to the point.] 16) x This pilot whale outrage certainly happened but it was pretty clearly Blackfish that started the cascade of woes for Seaworld. Who has ever asserted this?

17) if you’re gonna just rehash blackfish, tell people to go watch blackfish.

18) x I’ve already gone over the context issue with Seaworld calling out Howard’s statement in Blackfish here (point 23). Which is to say, IN CONTEXT in Blackfish it’s clear what Mr. Garrett is talking about but, divorced from that, it sounds incorrect. But this Youtuber AMPLIFIES the issue by doubling down on the assertion with “no record of a killer whale doing any harm to anyone in the wild.” The surfer event should always be mentioned. Yes, there’s absolutely room for doubt. But there’s also a clear demarcation between an accidental attack (eg mistaken identity, as was likely for the surfer) and intentional one (eg the incidents at marine parks.) Why do people kneecap themselves on this point 18b) please stop acting like Luna represents orcas in general.

19) x “Howard, for all of his research…” … while referring to David Duffus’ b-roll and statements. Uh. 20) x Apparently this Youtuber has single-handedly resolved the dorsal fin issue. You know, the thing that hasn’t been properly researched ever, that has been subject to a ton of debate, that isn’t 100% settled for a variety of reasons, and almost everyone talks about in terms of theories and likely possibilities. 21) x Alexis Martinez wasn’t “torn to shreds.” In a space where even moderate exaggerations are often penalized harshly by the opposition, this kind of blatant nonsense is not welcome. Plus, the reality’s bad enough… you don’t have to make anything up!

22) x *sighs. points at own webpage*

23) Talking about the shows stopping without acknowledging how that’s a bit of a farce is something else. In addition to apparently just flipping to buying what Seaworld’s selling re: its ‘improved image.’

*** Tl;dr video is so unrelentingly full of errors ranging from small to egregious it makes me seriously concerned for the veracity of the rest of this person’s content. The maker of the video provided a list of their sources in their video description, which I will have time to look through in detail later. The above is solely a response to the information they present IN THE VIDEO - which, is very important because let’s be real: a lot of people are not going to look at the list of sources. People don’t even do it when citing papers (no really, you’d be surprised, fml.) For anyone who wants to whinge that I haven’t linked or asserted any sources of my own for my claims… well, remember what I said about time-consuming and ‘I’m busy’? Yhea. Getting all of that together will be part of making a video. So if you want to shrug loudly at my list here… you can, that’s your prerogative, I’m happy to say I DGAF if that’s your takeaway.

What I hope, is that if there’s anything I’ve made clear over the While of running this blog, it’s that I don’t fuck around when it comes to sources and information and do my best to provide what information exists, all of it, not just cherrypicked bits and bobs. Anyways. Here’s step 0 at least. Please don’t share that video. Pretty please.

#seaworld #grumble

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magnificent-nerd · 3 years

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Why Naqib in The Boys sucked

Image description: fictional character Naqib in Amazon Prime’s show The Boys.

(Is the fire in the background an excuse to use racist Yellow Filter to show how exotic he is? Hmm.)

I first posted this on my blog in Dec 2020, and since nothing in superhero media has changed for the better at this time (September 5th, 2021), I’m going to keep talking about it.

Because nobody else does. So, without further ado:

WHY NAQIB SUCKS.

I was a big fan of The Boys season 1; I love superheroes, I love deconstructing a genre. Sure, it has its problems, but overall I enjoyed season 1 and thought the show had potential.

(That’ll learn me for being hopeful!)

When season 1 ended with this big build up of mostly nameless brown and background characters as Muslim terrorists (deep sigh) we the audience are left thinking this one Muslim character (Naqib) whose superpower is to blow himself up repeatedly (insert another long deep sigh here) is going to be The Big Bad of season 2.

I had my misgivings about that direction. Firstly, as you can see from the image of Naqib, he is highly exoticised and is walking around bare chested with Arabic writing on his chest. He looks more like a generic western media depiction of a genie than he does a supervillain.

And yet he's the first prominent Muslim character in superhero media I've seen in YEARS.

(See my post about MENA and Muslim character good guys, including Joe played by Marwan Kenzari in The Old Guard, which is technically a comic book movie but it’s not what I’d call ‘caped and costumed’ superheroes so it’s more... superhero adjacent.)

I follow superhero content closely and as far as I'm aware the last time we saw any named Muslim characters in superhero movies WITH SPEAKING LINES was:

Instance 1) Iron Man 1 back in 2008 with The Ten Rings in Afghanistan, showing multiple Muslim characters as baddies/terrorists, but only two of them as a named character and with any meaningful lines to say. And despite one of them, Yinsen (actor Shaun Toub), being a good guy he still dies! Which is common in western media for Muslim and MENA characters.

Note: Fellow Iron Man 1 castmate, actor Sayed Badreya, makes an important point in this GQ article: "I die in Iron Man, I die in Executive Decision. I get shot by everyone. George Clooney kills me in Three Kings. Arnold blows me up in True Lies…" (x)

Instance 2) A more recent instalment in Batman V. Superman in 2016, with some unnamed 'General' character and mercenaries/terrorists in Nairomi, Africa, referred to only as "the desert" throughout the movie. All reference to the General's actual name are available in an extended/deleted scene only, so a very poor and vague depiction in the final cut.

Instance 3) The generic and badly written ‘bad guys’ in Wonder Woman 1984 (2020 movie), which was honestly such a racist depiction of Arabs and Muslims that many critics pointed out we hadn’t seen a depiction this terrible since 1994′s True Lies. (At least most critics were in agreement that WW84 movie was generally terrible, so there’s that.)

And that's it, those are the only major instances showing any Muslim actors or characters in a caped and costumed superhero movie.

Some other fleeting glimpses of Muslims onscreen:

Glimpse 1) I spotted a girl wearing a hijab among the nameless and unspeaking background characters of Peter Parker's class in Spider-Man: Far From Home (2019). A first for Marvel movies, apparently.

Glimpse 2) Disney Plus show Falcon and Winter Soldier (2021) had two nameless Muslim characters walk by in a scene that’s supposed to be Tunisia (using Yellow Filter), and ‘thank’ the present American Air Force (eye-roll).

Glimpse 3) Netflix show Jupiter’s Legacy (2021) had a nameless Muslim sailor conversing with one of the main characters in a scene, with meaningful dialogue about racism. (WOW. Really good.) Bonus: no yellow filter. It’s a pity he’s a nameless background character because this brief instance is the least problematic MENA rep I’ve seen in ages, but it is very brief.

I just wrote about Glimpses 2 and 3, and how the Netflix show outdid Disney when it comes to these nameless walk-on Muslim characters.

This is pretty pathetic overall, these small crumbs, especially compared to better rep and probably the only instance of legit MENA superheroes in a ‘costumes and capes’ style superhero show, the Tarazi siblings on DC’s Legends of Tomorrow.

Anyway, now I’ve listed what crumbs are available across the live action superhero genre, back to The Boys.

I was intrigued about how season 2 would handle Naqib and any characters relating to him, and what storyline they'd use.

Was I excited at the possibility of seeing Muslim supers onscreen? Damn straight I was. Did I mind that they were baddies? Well, yes and no. When you only ever get crumbs or no crumbs at all, you tend to get excited over one stale old crumb.

After the build up for season 2, I eagerly sat down to watch the first episode, only to have the first five minutes of episode 1 Trigon him.

Note: who's Trigon, you ask? Well if you didn't watch the DCEU's Titans show, Trigon was The Big Bad who was hyped up throughout season 1, introduced in the season 1 cliff-hanger episode as this big 'oh shit!' moment for the cast of heroes, only for him to fizzle out like a wet fart in the first episode of season 2 while the show pivots wildly in another direction.

Exactly what happened to Naqib in the first five minutes of The Boys season 2.

Erm, so, Naqib. Farewell, I guess? As a character you briefly appeared in 2 episodes, portrayed by a different actor in each (Krishan Dutt, and Samer Salem). It seems the writers used you as a plot device when they needed a cheap cliff-hanger for a direction that ultimately went nowhere.

Am I disappointed? Yeah, I am. Overall I thought season 2 of The Boys was weaker than season 1, but I'm not here to talk about the whole season: I want to talk about Naqib and this missed opportunity.

The Boys and its showrunners sell the show as being a satire of recent and well known superhero content, of all the big movies and TV shows. There's been a lot of patting themselves on the back for calling out overused tropes in superhero media (and sometimes they've done this satire well: see the LGBT marketing scene with Queen Maeve in season 2), but my issue with the show on their Muslim rep, or should I say lack thereof, is if your show has even less Muslim character rep than the content you're trying to parody, how is this a win for satire?

Naqib and that whole angle came across as a lazy, half-assed swing from the writer's room. Sure, perhaps a lot of the non-Muslim and non-MENA audience won't even notice, as we've been ignored by western media or made into nameless, generic, vacuous baddies for decades now. Non-Muslims and non-MENA just accept that we're always the baddies for no particular reason at all (which feeds into Islamophobia, by the way) and The Boys' writers could say they are simply satirising the tropes already present in media...

But, and this is a big but, the media that The Boys is satirising has already made a step toward better inclusion and representation: Ms. Marvel (Kamala Khan), Marvel comics' first Muslim superhero, is entering the MCU as a lead character in her own Disney Plus show, debuting in 2022.

Ms. Marvel/Kamala Khan is also cited to appear in upcoming Captain Marvel sequel, The Marvels (2022), which will be a major movie.

The MCU has also cast a Muslim actor (Mahershala Ali) as the lead in a reboot of Blade. That's going to be big news when it starts filming.

So to the showrunners on The Boys, I say this: now you've done this small angle of 'all Muslim characters are terrorists, yuckity-yuck!' like we've seen in major superhero movies thus far, and you've brushed that aside in favor of focusing on other whiter villains, my question is will you come back to Muslim and MENA characters again? Or is that all you got?

Because if that was ALL, then the current score is Disney/MCU:02, Netflix:02, DCEU:02, and The Boys: a big ZERO as far as Muslim and MENA rep goes.

Originally posted on my blog, magnificently nerdy.

If you, like me, are always on the lookout for onscreen Muslim and MENA characters in superhero media, and have spotted any characters in superhero TV shows I haven’t watched yet, let me know about them!

Here is my post on good guys, featuring Old Guard’s Joe, and Blindspot’s Rich Dotcom.

Here’s my post about the Tarazi siblings on DC’s Legends of Tomorrow TV show.

And, if Marvels’ Eternals gets released on schedule for 2021, we will have a MENA actor portraying a supporting character. I just hope Marvel gives him a name.

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thegrapeandthefig · 4 years

Text

The Mushroom Discourse

This is what I get for having stupid questions. Before I jump into the clusterfuck this post is going to be, let me just explain how I got there in the first place: It's fall and mushrooms are just *everywhere* currently and it came to make me wonder about the phallic shape some of them have and how curious it was that this trait hadn't been used by the Ancients in some way.

And this simple observation led me down a deep rabbithole, because clearly no one gives a fuck about the history of mushrooms in the ancient world, but everybody cares about psychoactive shrooms. As a result of that, there's very little material about mushrooms in a typical ancient Greek's life, but A LOT of speculative material from a particular side of academia that is, for the most part, not really taken seriously by most scholars.

If this is so fringe, then why mention it at all? Well, because, like with other questionable content *cough cough Robert Graves cough*, I see it being taken by pagans as fact and not being critical about it. I could be writing an actual useful post but here I am, I guess.

The Shroom Theory

What I jokingly call the "shroom theory" refers to the idea held by a handful of scholars, that the secret of the Ancient Mysteries are psychoactive mushrooms. Initially, what sparked the idea is an interpretation of the Pharsalos stele, sometimes called “The Exaltation of the Flower”, dated somewhere between 470 and 460 BC.

When the stele was discovered in 1863, scholars have interpreted the two women as being Persephone and Demeter holding flowers (poppies or roses). Recently, the interpretation of those two women being Demeter and Persephone has been re-evalued and it's more likely that the stele represents mortal women, not goddesses.

In 1911, Rufus B. Richardson was the first to suggest that those looked like mushrooms, without making any further comment. It is only in 1955 that writer Robert Graves suggested the use of mushrooms for their entheogenic properties as part of the Eleusinian mysteries. As I've stated in a post earlier this week, Graves' hypothesis know little popularity amongst historians. For the most part, this trend checks out when looking at the scholars who did stand by this theory: ethnobotanist Terence McKenna, psychedelics researcher Giorgio Samorini, ethnomycologist R. Gordon Wasson, chemist Albert Hofmann... The only actual classicist still alive today to support this theory is Carl A. P. Ruck.

Carl Ruck: a look into the theories

In all honesty, the summary of the idea he shares with Wasson is basically, and I quote "entheogens were the origin of religion". I think it's important to point this out. Wasson and Ruck especially, do not just think that entheogens have something to do with greek Religion particularly, they think religious experience at its core was created from the hallucinogenic properties of mushrooms. And so, in Ruck's bibliography, you will see him go over the Eleusinian Mysteries, the Dionysiac Mysteries, Mithriasm, Renaissance art, and the fucking forbidden apple in the Garden of Eden because at this point why the fuck not, I guess.

If there were any kind of credibility to his theories, it's definitely where he lost it. Even in his more recent articles, like the one from 2016, there are so many mistakes and jumps to conclusion that you do wonder if he wrote it high, because it sure looks like it. For example, when mentionning restina (the Greek wine with pine resin, that I have written about in the past), he completely fails to mention pine resin at all. Instead, the citation goes this way:

"Since the alcohol produced by natural fermentation is limited to around 13%, after which concentration the aqueous environment becomes too inhospitable for continued growth of the fermenting yeasts, the toxicity of the wine was due to these fortifying herbal additives. These included even deadly poisons like hemlock in sub-lethal dosages and venom milked from serpents. This tradition survives in the modern Greek folk wine of retsina and in the demotic naming of the drink not ‘wine’ ([w]oínos), but the ‘mix’ (krasi)."

That is an extremely misleading statement. Because Ruck fails at giving a proper description of what retsina is, you are led to believe retsina is composed of either a "fortifying herbal additive" or "deadly poisons". Except, retsina is no stronger than a regular wine, and pine resin isn't a dangerous substance.

This is a detail, but it shows how Ruck words his work in a way that voluntarily omits information to serve his argumentation. To conclude this long rant, I will only add that his bibliography is also concerning, as he obviously doesn't have a lot of authors to choose from to support his theories, and so, he has the tendency to either cite himself, or himself and his co-authors.

Last words This is not to say that psychoactives do not or did not have any place in ancient societies, or even ancient religions. There might be a layer of truth somewhere in all this, but Ruck et al. go too far in their speculations. We simply do not have enough evidence to make claims of this nature. Don’t just believe them blindy. Keep in mind that I’ve summarized a lot, there’s much more that is just so far-fetched that it’s just ???

If you want to read Ruck’s works and judge for yourself:

R. Gordon Wasson, S. Kramrish, J. Ott, C. A. P. Ruck, Persephone's Quest : Entheogens and the Origins of Religion, 1986

C. A. P Ruck, Mushroom Sacraments in the Cults of Early Europe in: NeuroQuantology, 2016

#hellenic polytheism #hellenic paganism #hellenic pagan #hellenic polytheist #greek gods #psychoactive #trash academia

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script-a-world · 4 years

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Do you have any existing examples of world building a future that's actually accurate and predictive of the future? Say, ones that have depicted the last 5 years with some accuracy but created over 15 years ago. Or perhaps some future ones that aren't extreme sci fi writing genetically modified humans with superpowers or time travel in the next 50 years.

Tex: The Simpsons sure did give things a go (Metro, Business Insider).

That said, I could throw out some arguments in the line of “100% predictions are plausibly from time-travellers and would skew the time-line, likely creating catastrophic effects on spacetime as we know it” or something, but that would very quickly derail your question.

More realistically, Star Trek did a damn good job on the technological front (The Portalist, Quartz), and their cultural impact has been so significant that there’s a wiki on it. In this instance, I would argue rather more that the genre of sci-fi in particular has inspired our current technological advances - when we have an idea posited to us, it no longer becomes “impossible”, merely “improbable”.

Humans have historically liked a good challenge (or on the flip-side, really dislike being told no), so I would say that eventually most sci-fi things are created by sheer stubbornness. A warp drive, for example, has been talked about since at least the 1960s, but we’re slowly getting there in terms of real-world development (ScienceAlert, Universe Today).

We might not have the superpowers thing down yet (though that might take some paradigm changes, re: quantum entanglement in the brain and related topics - let’s scale our expectations of a “superpower” gradually), but we do already have genetically modified humans. Germ-line therapies (also known as somatic gene therapy, ScienceDirect) have existed for a while, and have many ethical issues arising from it (SingularityHub, National Academy of Sciences).

I do my best to keep up with as many STEM fields as I can, but in the past decade we’ve had a boom in development - I think if you asked someone in 2000 what sort of scientific and technological developments would exist by 2020, a good half of them might be wrong due to the simple fact that many fields just didn’t exist.

Given how long it took us to posit the theory of cellphones (in 1917 by Finnish inventor Eric Tigerstedt), to how long the first commercially available mobile phone was sold (by Motorola in 1973) - never mind flip phones (first posited in 1964 by Star Trek: The Original Series, first seen in real life via the Motorola StarTAC in 1996) - I would challenge anyone to bring a concept from drawing board to production line within ten years and have it be a commercial success!

There’s approximately 46 listed fields of engineering in this wiki, the Bureau of Labor Statistics cites that seven out of ten of the largest STEM fields were computer related in 2017 - the first concept of the modern computer was by Alan Turing in 1937 (Wikipedia), the first realization of this concept was with the Ferranti Mark 1 in 1951 (Wikipedia), and the first mobile computer was the IBM 5100 in 1975 (Wikipedia) - between Alan Turing in 1937 and the job statistics of 2017, a full 80 years had passed. I won’t delve more into the details of things like the history of social media, the Dot-com bubble, or literally anything about the 2000s, but suffice to say:

Description: Exponential Growth in STEM? Articles Published Worldwide, 1900?2011. Source: SPHERE project database of SCIE publications (Thomson Reuters' Web of Science).

STEM is likely increasing at an exponential pace (ResearchGate). I don’t know whether this means we’ll see things like the Enterprise, a TARDIS, or even Spiderman within our lifetime, but I distinctly would not preclude their possibilities just because our literature and scientific experiments didn’t have a palatable success rate. We got cell phones and 3D printing! I’m sure humans might be able to see things like superpowered humans or time-travel eventually, if not in our lifetime.

Delta: I’d also recommend The Martian by Andy Weir if you haven’t read it. It’s not super advanced sci-fi, so I’m not sure if it’s exactly what you’re looking for, but it’s an extremely realistic look at near-future space travel and Mars missions (realistic in every way, that is, except for the privatization of the American space industry; Weir wrote publicly funded space travel, which is looking less and less likely to be the case).

Station Eleven, by Emily St. John Mandel, is less sci-fi and more apocalypse/dystopia fiction, but takes a realistic, hard look at how humanity would actually react to an apocalypse, and is disturbingly familiar in 2020 (the main plot is a pandemic, so read with caution). Similarly, Octavia Butler wrote a great deal of similar future dystopia fiction; I’m particularly thinking of Parable of the Sower (warnings for rape, violence, riots, looting, etc.).

Mary Doria Russel’s The Sparrow is another good one. The timeline is a bit outdated, things didn’t happen as quickly as she thought, but her ideas about everything from space travel in asteroids to continuing violence in the middle east are more or less shaping up the way she predicted. She also takes a realistic look at what “first contact” would actually be like, as well as the actual ramifications of relative time caused by space travel. (While Russel is herself Jewish, Roman Catholic Christianity plays a very important role both thematically and in the plot, so this won’t be everyone’s cup of proverbial tea).

(On a related note, the movie Arrival by director Dennis Villeneuve is another sci-fi story that’s a very realistic (if somewhat trippy) look at “first contact,” but is set in the present day, rather than the future, so it’s not necessarily what you’re looking for, but I think very highly of it because of its realism and creative restraint, so it felt worth a mention.)

#pylons #future #predictions #Anonymous

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lastsonlost · 5 years

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So I was half-right.

Instead of misogyny it's Nazis because of course it is.

If you spend a lot of time in certain Extremely Online corners of the internet ecosystem, you’ve likely stumbled onto #NoNutNovember, or just #NNN for short. An annual challenge encouraging men to refrain from masturbating (or even, for many, having any sex) for the month, No Nut November was initially created as a parody of internet-borne phenomena such as the Ice Bucket Challenge or Movember, skewering the silliness of viral internet challenges along with the more extreme claims made by proponents of NoFap, an anti-porn subreddit with half a million members. (According to one of the moderators of the NoNutNovember subreddit, /u/yeeval, the subreddit has no connection to NoFap, though the two are often conflated.)

For most participants, the challenge is essentially an excuse to shitpost, as well as tweet memes skewering some of the more exaggerated purported benefits of abstaining from masturbation. But there are many who take it seriously, with at least 52,000 people as of this writing diligently documenting their day-by-day progress (and setbacks) on the subreddit r/NoNutNovember. Per /u/yeeval, “I’d say 90% of the posts are from people actively participating and also there’s the occasional fallen member who stays on the subreddit for the community and laughs.”

On its surface, No Nut November is a fairly innocuous challenge: while it may seem silly to abstain from masturbation for virtually no reason, some of the memes are pretty funny, and a month of abstinence (whether it be from sex or masturbation) certainly isn’t going to kill anyone. u/yeeval says the goal isn’t to demonize porn or masturbation per se, but to prompt men to examine their own masturbation habits and whether or not they’re healthy. “In my opinion, most originally participate in NNN for the meme aspect of the challenge but as the days go on people begin to see how big their porn or masturbation dependency is,” he says.

"Neither of those things are bad or immoral in themselves but just like any outlet can become excessive in times of depression and loneliness.” Yet it would be naive to ignore that there’s significant overlap between the general anti-porn ideology behind NoFap — and, to a degree, No Nut November — and that of the far right, which has increasingly coopted the movement. (NoFap’s website states that, with the exception of a small number of users who may abstain for religious or moral reasons, they do not have an anti-masturbation stance.)

Because the challenge is associated with abstaining from porn, some people associated with the movement have taken the extra step of harassing adult performers on social media, giving it an additional layer of troubling implications. “In the past [No Nut November] has always been like, ‘Oh, look at this ridiculous thing some people are participating in,'” says adult performer and director Casey Calvert. “This year, people [in the industry] are talking about, ‘Oh, actually this is connected to the far right and maybe we shouldn’t just be saying hahaha, No Nut November.'”

A new meme brings these implications into sharp relief. Coomer is a reference to a meme of an unkempt, skeezy-looking bearded man in a white tank top with vaguely Semitic features, accompanied by descriptive text like “doesn’t even know anything about politics,” “extremely aesthetic right arm (huge muscle),” and “has never heard of NoFap"

It’s been circulating on 4chan for the past year, but Alex Hawkins, the vice president of the porn tube site xHamster, says he started seeing it in the replies on his company’s Twitter feed back in September, when presidential candidate Andrew Yang tweeted about limiting access to pornography. At first, “we didn’t really know what it meant and thought it was funny,” he tells Rolling Stone. Then, in late October, the coomer resurfaced thanks to a Twitter campaign led by a user named TeapotLad, in which users vowed to change their avatars to the coomer should they fail No Nut November. PewDiePie shouted out the campaign in a recent YouTube video, as did far-right YouTuber Paul Joseph Watson, who is perhaps best known for being one of the many extremist figures, including Milo Yiannopolous and Alex Jones, to be banned from Facebook. “No Nut November and the Coomer meme represent a deeper meaning,” he said in a tweet. “Porn is evil. It literally re-wires your brain and causes erectile dysfunction. Take the pledge. Don’t be a Coomer.”

The term has also been used in the context of “OK coomer,” a play on the “OK boomer” meme, in response to tweets critical of No Nut November or masturbation abstinence in general. “It’s positioned as this epic battle between the weak beta masturbators and the strong, alpha NoFappers,” says Hawkins.

Like most memes, “coomer” carries with it more than a tinge of irony, and it’s not always easy to determine whether it’s being used flippantly or to actually deride men who masturbate. But the implication is clear: masturbating is an urge that should be resisted at all costs. David Ley, PhD, a clinical psychologist and sex therapist who studies pornography and mental health, saw the meme after he tweeted his criticism of No Nut November, referring to it as “a creepy little smorgasbord of insecurity-driven hate with anti-Semitism, misogyny, and homophobia all rolled up in one,” he tells Rolling Stone. (Ley has partnered with the cam website Stripchat to do AMAs about sexual health, and plans to appear in one debunking some of the myths associated with No Nut November.)

The idea that there are significant health benefits from abstaining from masturbation is partially based on the (primarily internet-propagated) theory that semen retention is linked to an increase in testosterone and male virility, an idea that has been widely debunked. For the most part, however, the idea that masturbation is somehow feminizing is “rooted in extremely antiquated ideas of masculinity,” many of which are also promoted by far-right groups, says Ley. The Proud Boys, for instance, a far-right extremist group known for its propensity toward violence, has long advocated for its members to abstain from masturbation on the grounds that it boosts testosterone and makes them more appealing to women; indeed, founder Gavin McInnes gave a shoutout to NoFap in a 2015 article for the far-right publication Taki’s Magazine. (The organizers of NoFap have strongly refuted any connection to the Proud Boys.)

An even more extremist version of this far-right anti-masturbation philosophy has been promoted by David Duke, the former head of the Ku Klux Klan, who has propagated the conspiracy theory that Jews dominate the porn industry and use pornography as a way to control white men. On far-right threads on the encrypted messaging app Telegram, this sentiment is fairly widespread. “Jews not only control most of the pornography industry, they also rely on the goyim to maintain a routine of ejaculation in order to stay docile and non-violent,” one comment reads. Another shared a viral Pornhub tweet poking fun at viewers who’d failed No Nut November, writing, “the Jew mocks you as they poison the minds of millions.” (Pornhub is owned by the Canadian company MindGeek, the CEO of which, Feras Antoon, does not appear to be Jewish, even though there are numerous 4chan /pol/ threads speculating as such.)

This anti -Semitism is also often accompanied by healthy doses of homophobia and racism as well: on these threads, you’ll frequently see users deriding men who masturbate to heterosexual porn, on the grounds that being aroused by another man’s penis makes you gay (even if said penis is depicted going into a vagina). And because mainstream porn often features white women paired with black men, there’s also a virulently racist element to much of this discourse, such as the suggestion that interracial porn is intended to steer white women away from procreating with white men and toward men of color.

The irony of this strain of the anti-masturbation movement is that, while it’s ostensibly intended to fight the larger porn industry’s attempts to brainwash and emasculate white men, anti-masturbation ideology has historically been used as a tool by fascist figures to gain social control. Cultural stigma associated with masturbation, combined with the fact that pretty much everyone masturbates, invariably leads to a lot of men “developing a lot of internal shame,” says Ley. “And that makes them open to manipulation and social control.” As an example, he cited the National Socialist Party in 1930s Germany, which strongly discouraged Hitler Youth members from engaging in masturbation. Because anti-porn and anti-masturbation movements tend to be comprised of young heterosexual males, they could potentially be viewed by some on the far right as ideal recruitment grounds. The fact that something like No Nut November appears to be a joke on its face “appears to serve as this interesting front door recruiting kind of strategy to bring folks into this deeper, much more insidious and shaming movement,” says Ley.

Of course, it goes without saying that not everyone who participates in No Nut November or NoFap is a white supremacist or religious fundamentalist, and that the founders of these groups explicitly reject any suggestions of overlap between the two communities. u/yeeval says he has seen no hint of any anti-Semitic or misogynistic commentary on the subreddit, chalking any suggestions of Jewish porn conspiracy theories to “someone trying to make a bad / overtly offensive joke.” “NoNutNovember isn’t a political movement. We are not anti-porn. We are not anti-woman. We are not anti-masturbation or anti-sex,” he says. “In its most simple form NoNutNovember just a fun internet challenge that has grown in popularity due to many memes that circulate the internet…However, I also think that the reason that it has become so widespread is that it has given many the opportunity to look within themselves and realize that they might be relying on masturbation and porn for comfort.”

The coomer meme is also, at least inherently, apolitical, says Alice Vaughn, host of Two Girls One Mic, a podcast about porn tropes. “The concept surrounding ‘Coomer’ is neither right nor left politically. The urge to shame those with higher sex drives is nothing new, and is a subject many are uncomfortable with, especially adolescents (which is predominately 4Chan’s user base),” she says. But the rise of “coomer,” with its distinctly conservative implications about male sexuality, would seem to refute that the anti-masturbation movement is totally innocent or entirely intended in jest. The fact that it’s often used in the context of “OK coomer,” a play on a meme intended to skewer boomers’ criticism of Gen Z, also indicates that this is primarily a youth-driven phenomenon. When you consider how younger generations have typically adopted a more healthy, progressive view of sexuality than previous ones, this doesn’t make a lot of intuitive sense — but it actually tracks with current data, which indicates that younger generations are having less sex, Ley says.

Usually, this phenomenon is attributed to male millennials and zoomers (members of Gen Z) spending more time watching porn, and to an extent this may be true; when it comes to determining the effects of pornography viewing on male sex lives, research is somewhat mixed. But it’s also just as likely that sociocultural factors like economic unrest and fear-mongering abstinence-only education have also played a role in these declining sexual activity rates. “We’ve spent decades telling these young kids be afraid of sex, and that only hereto monogamous sex is OK and moral,” says Ley. “Now all of a sudden they are really conflicted about sex and their own sexuality.”

That said, there’s also an awful lot of men who are not participating in No Nut November in earnest, and many more who aren’t participating at all. In an email to Rolling Stone, Pornhub vice president Corey Price said that traffic is virtually unaffected by No Nut November, and few of the adult performers Rolling Stone spoke with said that they hadn’t seen their engagement go down considerably during the month either. Considering that annual Pornhub traffic numbers are in the tens of billions, if there is indeed a wider porn conspiracy to sap men of their virility, that conspiracy appears to be working pretty well. But for those who are participating in the challenge, and may have stumbled along the way, Calvert has a comforting message: “I personally think No Nut November is very silly,” she says. “Not masturbating for a month does not make you a better man or a stronger man.”

............

Let me see if I got this straight.

Porn is evil

And not fapping makes you a racist homophobic Nazi

Did I... Did I fucking miss something?

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songtoyou · 4 years

Text

Chapter Two: Playful Conversations

Paring: Ransom Drysdale x Fabiola Rossi (OC)

Story Rating: This story will mostly be rated 18+ as it is revolves around a relationship that is Dominant/submissive. For each chapter, I will do my best to rate it accordingly, but please know that the overall story will have very adult themes.

Chapter Rating: Rated R with a mix of 18+ towards the end.

Warnings: BDSM themes, bondage, swearing

Word Count: 3,173

Description: Huge “Ransom” Drysdale always thought of himself as a powerful man. With his family’s money and status, Ransom could get away with anything. He had the power and control others would envy. Ransom could get any woman he wanted with a snap of his fingers. He was always in charge. He commanded attention. And he hated it. Never having a job in his life (thanks to his mother, father, and grandfather always there to supplement his bank account) or any real-life goals, Ransom felt incomplete and directionless. That is until Fabiola Rossi entered his life and turned it completely upside down.

A/N: I have not seen Knives Out. This is an AU of that world. I do not own any of the characters created by Rian Johnson. I have always thought of Ransom as a sub rather than a Dominant and this idea has been on my mind constantly that I needed to write it down. Anything in italics are to represent Ransom’s thoughts.

I do not permit any of my fics to be distributed on other sites without my permission.

Taglist: @winchwm

Updated for grammar and punctuation edits.

“Just so you know, it is nothing like how ‘Fifty Shades of Grey’ portrays it. That book and movie series is total bullshit and completely disrespectful to the BDSM community,” Fabiola expressed to Ransom and continued with, “There are a lot of elements that follow under the BDSM umbrella. Have you ever looked into BDSM or been interested?”

What did Ransom know about BDSM or a D/s relationship? Nothing. Nothing at all.

“Anything that had to do with bondage entailed me being the one doing the tying up. Nothing too hardcore. No pain involved. Just light choking or spanking. But again, I wasn’t the receiver. If I do actually agree to this, then I would be your submissive? What makes you think I even classify as one?” Ransom asked.

“Oh honey, you are a total submissive. You reek of submissiveness. It oozes out of you. That is nothing to be embarrassed about. Being submissive does not mean you are weak. Never equate submissiveness with weakness in a D/s relationship,” Fabiola explained.

Fabiola suggested he should read up on the subject and even said she would send over articles that could help him understand the concept of BDSM more thoroughly. “Here, put your number in my phone,” she instructed, handing the object over to him.

Ransom obliged and put in his phone number. Fabiola immediately began to text Ransom articles about BDSM and D/s relationships.

“Those articles are good to start with. I’ll also send over this BDSM test I found on the Internet. You should take it as it will help me, and you figure out what type of sexual deviant you are. Like, are you a pain slut, do you like degradation, etcetera?” Fabiola rambled off suggestively.

Ransom leaned in more towards Fabiola and recommended, “What if I don’t know what I like? A test isn’t going to help me figure it out since I most likely never done much of anything within the BDSM realm. I think it would best if we do some hands-on practices, don’t you think?”

“So, you are saying you want to give this a try? I don’t want to force you to do anything you aren’t comfortable doing just so we are clear.”

“If I weren’t interested, I would have walked out that door. Hell, I wouldn’t even have asked you to meet me if I didn’t find you, not only beautiful but fascinating as well,” Ransom declared as he took one last sip of his drink.

“Okay. I still want you to do some research and tell me what you may be interested in, and we can go from there,” Fabiola stated as she began to put her things back in her messenger bag and suggested meeting up again next Saturday but at her place this time. “Will that give you enough time to read up on the subject more?” she added.

Ransom simply nodded his head.

Fabiola learned closer to Ransom and whispered in his ear, “Just so you know, it would in your best interest from now on to give me ‘yes’ or ‘no’ answers. You will use your words with me, Baby Hughie. If not, then a nice ball gag will fit nicely in the pretty mouth of yours since you feel no need to use it.”

Once again, Ransom was stunned. This woman truly knew how to keep him on his toes. He could feel his cock twitch in his pants when she scolded and threatened him with punishment. It was the first real excitement Ransom felt in a long time.

“Yes,” he answered softly and wide-eyed.

Fabiola kissed Ransom on the cheek and told him, “I’ll see you soon, sweetheart. Be good for me, okay.”

“I will,” Ransom replied obediently.

With a smile on her face, Fabiola grazed her hand against his cheek and said, “Good boy.”

Before Ransom was to meet up again with Fabiola, he did as he was told and read the articles she texted. He learned about hard limits and started to think about what would be off-limits for him. Ransom realized a couple of the hard limits were golden showers (or anything we urine and feces), tickling, or needle play. He read about aftercare, which occurs after a scene where the dominant helps the submissive come down from “subspace.”

After reading and researching more about the overall ins and outs of a D/s relationship, Ransom felt comfortable taking the BDSM test Fabiola requested for him to take. The answering ranking for each question was “absolutely disagree,” “neutral/no opinion,” and “absolutely agree.”

The first question asked if he liked being dominated, especially in the bedroom. With Fabiola, it was something he was more than willing to give it a try, so he answered with “absolutely agree.”

The second question was, “I like receiving pain during sex/BDSM and seeing the results of it (marks/bruises, makeup running by tears, etc.) afterward.” This one he had to give some thought. Again, he was willing to try but only put “neutral” as his response.

Other questions on the tests ranged from “The idea of being tortured sexually, is appealing” to “I like to be sexually degraded and humiliated by my partner(s) sometimes,” which Ransom selected “absolutely agree” to both.

His overall results were interesting, to say the least: 98% rope bunny, 94% degrade, 84% Submissive, 70% brat, 70% Masochist, 64% Slave, 53% experimentalist. He sent the results over the Fabiola to get an idea of what she might be working with.

Hi Ransom,

This helps. However, that does not mean that results can’t change when we eventually try things out. Again, I will make sure to go slow with you. I won’t force you to do anything you are not comfortable doing.

I look forward to seeing you on Saturday.

Take care,

Fabiola

Ransom immediately wrote back, which he found kind of funny since he never replied quickly to emails or texts. He asked her out to dinner, hoping that the two could continue to get to know one another more. Ransom mentioned Sorellina, which offered Italian-Mediterranean cuisine. It was a very upscale restaurant in the Boston area, and Ransom was hoping it would impress Fabiola that he could offer to take her to such a fancy establishment. He would go all out to impress her, hoping that she would think of him worthy of keeping around.

The two texted one another frequently throughout the week, whether it be Ransom asking Fabiola questions about BDSM or partake in the mundane topic exchange. It was nice for Ransom to have someone he could converse with that was not a part of his usual crowd or trust fund babies or party-goers. Communicating with Fabiola helped Ransom keep himself occupied. He even began to write more, which took up most of his time that he did not have the energy to party or hang out with his stoner friends.

Despite the pleading and temptations his friends offered to join in on the festivities, Ransom declined to cite that he was too busy. Instead, he continued to focus on writing as he wanted to show more of his work to Fabiola. Despite not knowing the younger very well, Ransom could not deny that he liked the compliment she gave him on his writing. He wanted her to praise him again like she did at the café. He kept fantasizing about what she would do to him the night they were to meet up again. Would she tie him up and edge him for hours? She mentioned that she wanted to meet up at her place, so that was an incentive to Ransom to wonder what she had in store for him.

The night before he was to meet up with Fabiola, he called her out of the blue. He wanted to hear her voice.

“Ransom, you okay?” Fabiola asked when she answered the phone. She was surprised to see his name come up, particularly at such a late hour at night.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Everything is good. I just wanted…just wanted to…talk. If that is okay?”

“Of course, that is okay. What do you want to talk about?” she inquired.

Letting out a deep breath, Ransom spoke, “I’ve been thinking about our possible arrangement…”

“Are you having second thoughts?” Fabiola asked worriedly.

“No! No, I’m not having second thoughts. Not at all. I have been thinking a lot about it, actually. I was just kind of hoping you could give me some insight into what I should be expected if that is okay?”

“Not a problem. Reading as many articles as you have this week doesn’t really give you the proper insight into the whole BDSM world. Also, don’t worry if you don’t understand everything your first week. You won’t be graded on anything,” Fabiola informed and continued with, “We’ll start off slow. But why don’t you tell me what you would like to try?”

Ransom shared that he did not mind being tied up but that he was a little nervous about anything pain-inducing. He also shared that his new fantasy was her denying him orgasms.

“I have a flogger that shouldn’t hurt you too badly. Don’t worry, I’m not gonna flog you until you bleed or anything. I tend to not take it that far. Thankfully, I am exceptionally good at edging my subs and controlling their orgasms. That is one of my favorite activities to play,” Fabiola teased over the phone.

The two continued to talk over the phone, where the conversations ranged from discussing BDSM to mundane. Ransom beamed over the phone when he was able to make Fabiola laugh when retelling a story about the time he got locked out of the fraternity house he was “rushing’ during freshman year while naked and smeared with peanut butter all over his body.

“I got chased by the neighborhood dogs. They were trying to eat me. To this day, I have a phobia of dogs. My grandpa has two big German shepherds who always try to jump on me whenever I visit him. They have it out for me.”

“You poor thing,” Fabiola consoled while not being able to hold back her laughter. “I had a goat headbutt me in the stomach when I was five. It hurt so fucking bad.”

“Why were you around a goat?” Ransom asked, confused.

“Because I was tagging along with my older sister to one of her friend’s house, and the girl had a pet goat. I’m telling you, Ransom, the pain in my stomach from that headbutt was unbearable. Can you imagine being five years old and getting headbutted in the stomach by a fucking goat! Now that shit is traumatic,” Fabiola shared. She still remembers the feeling of having to walk home in excruciating pain after the goat incident.

“Okay, you win. I can’t beat that regarding animal encounters.”

“I think my sister has a beat. She got chased by a peacock one time when we were visiting the zoo with our friends. For some reason, the zoo we went to just had a peacock roaming around freely. Oh God, it was so funny. Too bad I don’t have that on camera,” laughed Fabiola.

Ransom let a chuckle as well. He felt comfortable and at ease while talking to Fabiola.

“Can I ask you something personal?” asked Fabiola out of the blue.

“Only if I get to ask something personal back,” Ransom negotiated.

“Okay. What did you want to be when you grew up?”

Ransom let out a chuckle. That was not the question he was expecting. “That is a little tame. I guess…I don’t know. I can’t remember. Why do you ask? Why do you want to know?”

“I just want to get a better sense of who you are. Finding out your hopes and dreams helps to do that. I…no offense, don’t think you necessarily wanted to be this trust fund bachelor for the rest of your life. You strike me as someone who likes their independence, so I am simply confused about why you would want to be beholden to your family’s wealth for income. Aren’t you ever worried that your grandfather or parents will cut you off one day?”

“Idle threats,” Ransom responded nonchalantly. “They would never go through with it.”

With a mere hum, Fabiola did not push the topic further, knowing she would not get much from Ransom. He was clueless to think he could mooch off his family for the rest of his life. She had overheard a conversation Charlie had with Harlan about Ransom. Fabiola was able to make out from the dialogue how Harlan seemed to be perturbed by Ransom’s mindless spending. Apparently, his grandson was spending up to $10,000 to $15,000 a month. Harlan was distressed on what Ransom could be spending all that money on, whether clothes or other mundane items. The Thrombey clan’s patriarch expressed worry and fear that he coddled and spoiled, but his favorite grandchild was partaking in unsavory activities, like drugs. However, it was never brought up in fear of finding out the truth. Denial and avoidance were two of the Thrombey/Drysdale clan’s favorite coping mechanisms.

“Now, for my question,” Ransom was more than happy to change the subject. “What made you interested in BDSM?”

“I knew you were gonna ask that question,” said Fabiola with an eye roll and shake of her head, but continued, “To be honest, I have always had some fascination with seeing people tied up. I would say that started when I saw Madonna’s music video for ‘Human Nature’ where she is in a latex bodysuit and being a dominatrix to one of the dancers. She was also chained to a chair. She was so freaking hot back in the 90s. I guess that was my first time seeing BDSM imagery so out in the open. Of course, I didn’t know what it was actually referred to. It wasn’t until college when I started to learn more about it from a person who would be my first dom.”

Ransom sat up at the confession. “Wait! Hold up, you were a submissive?”

“Well, yeah. I was exploring and needed some guidance. It helped me realize that I am more of a domme than a submissive. I like being in control and having some at my complete mercy,” toyed Fabiola.

“You really are an enigma. I can’t quite get you figured out.”

“And with that, I will bid you goodnight. Sleep well, Baby Hughie.”

“Look at you, all helpless and at my complete mercy. You look so delicious spread out. All tied up nice and pretty for me,” stated Fabiola as she paced back and forth at the foot of Ransom’s bed. She had tied him spread eagle on his bed with red rope. She laughed when he tried to tug at his binds.

“You’re not going to be able to get out those ropes. This is your rightful place, isn’t it Ransom. Helpless and at my mercy.”

“Yes, it is Mistress. Thank you,” Ransom breathed out. His cock was stiffening as he tried to flex his hands and fit against the ropes. He could not remember a time when he felt so turned on and hard.

“What color are you at, Ransom?” she asked to make sure he was still doing okay.

“Green, mistress,” he replied.

“Good boy. However, I think something is missing. It does not quite feel complete,” Fabiola pondered with a head tilt. She went back to her closet of toys, took out a ball gag, and presented it to Ransom. Letting out a laugh, she got on the bed and sat between his legs. Inserting the gag in his mouth and tightening the straps to secure it in place, Fabiola sat back on her knees to look at the vulnerable man before her.

“Beautiful,” she breathed out while running her hands up and down Ransom’s bare chest. “This is exactly how I pictured you the night I first met you. I knew you would be mine. Are you happy being mine, Ransom?”

Ransom nodded and tried to speak, but all he could get out was a muffled, “Yes.”

Lying down beside Ransom, Fabiola draped her right leg over him and traced a finger against his gagged mouth. “It feels good tonight to not be in control, isn’t it, Ransom? To not have to worry about anything except to please me. To not have to make any decisions except to follow my orders. Your parents failed you, so this is where I come in to make sure you become the man you were always meant to be, Ransom.”

Giving him a wet kiss on his gagged mouth, Fabiola began to trail kisses down his neck to his stomach before stopping at his Adonis belt. She sat back on her knees once again to take him all in.

“Do you want me to suck you cock, Baby Hughie?”

Another muffled ‘yes’ from Ransom made Fabiola chuckle. “Of course, you want me to suck your cock. You are such a slut. You would probably allow me to do anything I wanted to do as long as you came. But guess what, you’re going to have to earn your orgasms from now, Baby Hughie. No more handouts. For the first time in your life, you are going to have to work for what you want,” Fabiola explained with a strong authoritative tone.

Ransom tried to concentrate, but all he could think about was how hard his cock was at that moment. Fabiola could tell that Ransom was not paying attention to her, so she quickly slapped him right across his face. Ransom looked back at the woman before with a shocked expression on his face, letting out a groan at being slapped.

“You better pay attention to me, little boy. I guess we are also going to have to work on your manners, you undisciplined little slut,” Fabiola berated him. God, he loved the degrading things she said to him. It only turned him more.

“Now, I do want to give you a little taste,” she said, getting her mouth closer to the base of his cock. As Ransom tried to push his hips closer to Fabiola, he already felt like he was about to explode his load. He could not hold it any longer. The need to release was too excruciating. It was not long before Ransom felt himself cumming all over the bed and himself.

He quickly sat up and looked around his room. No longer was he gagged or bound to the bed. Fabiola was nowhere in sight. Breathing heavily, Ransom sat up against the headboard. He checked under the covers and, low and behold, proof that it was all a wet dream.

“A wet dream. Really? What the fuck am I twelve. Jesus Christ!” Ransom berated himself as he got out of bed to discard his now soiled pajama pants and clean himself up.

He only hoped that his first night with Fabiola would be more fulfilling than the dream.

#chris evans #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x ofc

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jackdawyt · 5 years

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Following Jason Schreier's continued BioWare story, we have direct insight from many BioWare employees regarding the initial Dragon Age 4 BioWare were going to create code named 'Joplin' and envisioned by Mike Laidlaw, against the now in production Dragon Age project that has been code named 'Morrison'.

Last time we talked about both projects - Joplin and Morrison, equally named after their respected music artists who died at the age of 27, but were both known for revolutionizing their respected industry.

This latest report examines everything that Joplin was going to be regarding the future of the next Dragon Age title.

Let's now delve into the potential game that Dragon Age 4 initially was going to be, before it was rebooted for Anthem and Andromeda's developments.

As I quote:

The plan for Joplin was exciting, say people who worked on it. First and foremost, they already had many tools and production pipelines in place after Inquisition, ones that they hoped to improve and continue using for this new project.

They committed to prototyping ideas early and often, testing as quickly as possible rather than waiting until everything was on fire, as they had done the last time thanks to the glut of people and Frostbite’s difficulties.

“Everyone in project leadership agreed that we couldn’t do that again, and worked to avoid the kind of things that had led to problems,” said one person who worked on the project, explaining that some of the big changes included:

1) Laying down a clear vision as early as possible.

2) Maintaining regular on-boarding documents and procedures so new team members could get up to speed fast; and

3) A decision-making mentality where “we acknowledged that making the second-best choice was far, far better than not deciding and letting ambiguity stick around while people waited for a decision.”

(That person, like all of the sources for this story, spoke under condition of anonymity because they were not authorized to talk about their experiences.)

Prepare the tears for this next quote guys....

Another former BioWare developer who worked on Joplin called it “some of the best work experiences” they’d ever had. “We were working towards something very cool, a hugely reactive game, smaller in scope than Dragon Age: Inquisition but much larger in player choice, followers, reactivity, and depth,” they said. “I’m sad that game will never get made.”

You’d play as a group of spies in Tevinter Imperium, a wizard-ruled country on the north end of Dragon Age’s main continent, Thedas. The goal was to focus as much as possible on choice and consequence, with smaller areas and fewer fetch quests than Dragon Age: Inquisition.

(In other words, they wanted Joplin to be the opposite of the Hinterlands.) There was an emphasis on “repeat play,” one developer said, noting that they wanted to make areas that changed over time and missions that branched in interesting ways based on your decisions, to the point where you could even get “non-standard game overs” if you followed certain paths.

A large chunk of Joplin would center on heists. The developers talked about building systemic narrative mechanics, allowing the player to perform actions like persuading or extorting guards without the writers having to hand-craft every scene.

It was all very ambitious and very early, and would have no doubt changed drastically once Joplin entered production, but members of the team say they were thrilled about the possibilities.

The first big hiccup came in late 2016, when BioWare put Joplin on hold and moved the entire team onto the troubled Mass Effect: Andromeda, which needed as many hands as possible during its final months of development.

The Joplin team expanded with people who were rolling off Andromeda and kept working, prototyping, and designing the game. After spending months of their lives helping finish a Mass Effect that didn’t excite a ton of people, it was nice to return to Dragon Age.

One thing that wasn’t discussed much on Joplin was multiplayer, according to a few people who worked on the project, which is perhaps why the project couldn’t last.

By the latter half of 2017, Anthem was in real trouble, and there was concern that it might never be finished unless the studio did something drastic.

In October of 2017, not long after veteran Mass Effect director Casey Hudson returned to the studio to take over as general manager, EA and BioWare took that drastic action, canceling Joplin and moving the bulk of its staff, including executive producer Mark Darrah, onto Anthem.

A tiny team stuck around to work on a brand new Dragon Age 4, code-named Morrison, that would be built on Anthem’s tools and code base. It’s the game being made now. Unlike Joplin, this new version of the fourth Dragon Age is planned with a live service component, built for long-term gameplay and revenue.

One promise from management, according to a developer, was that in EA’s balance sheet, they’d be starting from scratch and not burdened with the two years of money that Joplin had already spent. Question was, how many of those ideas and prototypes would they use?

It’s not clear how much of Joplin’s vision will shape Morrison (at least some of it will, says one person on the game), but shortly after the reboot, creative director Mike Laidlaw left, as did some other veteran Dragon Agestaff.

Matt Goldman, art director on Dragon Age: Inquisition and then Joplin, took over as creative director for Morrison, while Darrah remained executive producer on both that project and Anthem.

In early 2018, when I first reported that BioWare had rebooted the next Dragon Age and that its replacement would be a live service game, studio GM Casey Hudson responded on Twitter.

“Reading lots of feedback regarding Dragon Age, and I think you’ll be relieved to see what the team is working on. Story & character focused. Too early to talk details, but when we talk about ‘live’ it just means designing a game for continued storytelling after the main story.”

The game is still very early in development and could evolve based on the negative reception to Anthem. Rumor among BioWare circles for the past year has been that Morrison is “Anthem with dragons”—a snarky label conveyed to me by several people—but a couple of current BioWare employees have waved me off that description.

“The idea was that Anthem would be the online game and that Dragon Age and Mass Effect, while they may experiment with online portions, that’s not what defines them as franchises,” said one. “I don’t think you’ll see us completely change those franchises.”

When asked, a few BioWare developers agreed that it’d be technically possible for a game built on Anthem’s codebase to also have an offline branch, but it’s not yet clear whether Morrison will take that approach. If it does turn out to be an online game, which seems likely, it would be shocking if you couldn’t play the bulk of it by yourself.

(Diablo III, for example, is online-only on PC yet can be played entirely solo.)

One person close to the game told me this week that Morrison’s critical path, or main story, would be designed for single-player and that goal of the multiplayer elements would be to keep people engaged so that they would actually stick with post-launch content.

Single-player downloadable content like Dragon Age: Inquisition’s Trespasser, while often excellent, typically sells only a fraction of the main game, according to developers from BioWare and elsewhere across the industry.

Yet this wouldn’t be a “live service” game if it was a repeat of Dragon Age: Inquisition, which compartmentalized its single- and multiplayer modes.

Fans in the past have grown outraged at the idea of BioWare putting a lot of emphasis on multiplayer gaming, but there are ways in which a service-heavy Dragon Age 4 could be ambitious and impressive.

For example, some ideas I’ve heard floated for Morrison’s multiplayer include companions that can be controlled by multiple players via drop-in/drop-out co-op, similar to old-school BioWare RPGs like Baldur’s Gate, and quests that could change based not just on one player’s decisions, but on the choices of players across the globe.

Maybe in two or three years, Morrison will look completely different. It’s not like Dragon Age hasn’t changed drastically in the past. In the office, BioWare developers often refer to Mark Darrah’s Dragon Age team as a pirate ship, one that will eventually wind up at its destination, but not before meandering from port to port, drinking as much rum as possible along the way.

His is a team that, in the past, has iterated and changed direction constantly—something that they hoped to cut down for Joplin, but has always been part of their DNA (and, it should be noted, heavy iteration is common in all game development).

One BioWare employee summed it up well as we talked about the future of BioWare’s fantasy franchise. “Keep in mind,” they said, “Dragon Age games shift more than other games.

”Said another current BioWare employee about Morrison: “They have a lot of unanswered questions. Plus I know it’s going to change like five times in the next two years.”

There are other questions remaining, too: With BioWare’s Austin office gradually taking over Anthem going forward, when will the bulk of employees at the company’s Edmonton HQ move to the Morrison team?

Will Morrison be able to avoid following the lead of Dragon Age: Inquisition, which took on too many people too early and wound up suffering as a result?

And, most important, will BioWare work to prevent the burnout that has led to dozens of developers leaving over the past two years, with so many citing stress, depression, and anxiety?

End of article, so my thoughts on this, of course, I have my worries especially regarding the multiplayer part, it was to my knowledge that there is a separate Dragon Age team working on the multiplayer component completely estranged from the core team.

I hope that this is still the case, however, it's EA that're the ones who plaque BioWare to incorporate multiplayer and live-service.

Honestly the biggest concern here is how much of Joplin's original vision and resources are going to be put into Morrison's production, because the description of Joplin is everything I've wanted in a Dragon Age game following from Inquisition.

To hear that this initial game has been canned is heart-wrenching, any signs of Joplin's ashes in Morrison is all I can hope for.

Hope is all we really have right now regarding the future of Dragon Age, and don't forget Mass Effect, which is also going to affected by this too.

Of course, I have my worries. But I am hopeful for what the Dragon Age team can do, and I feel to fear when we still haven't seen the game yet is a little blind-sighted. Who knows when we will see or hear anything, I imagine we may see something on EA Play's live-streams next June, just before E3, but honestly, I'm not sure!

The next Dragon Age project is expected to release within 2-3 years from now, all we can hope for next is a reveal of some-sorts, like a title or development update.

It would be incredible if BioWare could come out and share some insight on what the heck is going on with the next Dragon Age, like a development diary which they did with Mass Effect: Andromeda.

To get a glimpse of this next game and the vision for it is what we in the BioWare fandom all need right now. To know what is going on with the next Dragon Age and how true it will stick to Joplin's original vision.

But until we do hear something, like always, you're already in the right place...

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no-longer-an-alley-cat · 5 years

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‘“Asexual” Isn’t Who I Am’: The Politics of Asexuality

by Matt Dawson, Susie Scott, and Liz McDonnell

Comedic commentary that might verge on insightful by me.

Join me as I try and fucking deal with this particular hangup I have

Arright, so basically these folks are reacting to other folks who say that asexuality is the fucking cats pajamas and is going to do everything from redefining relationships to destroying neoliberalism.

Basically, they’re saying that this is telling asexual people how they ought to be, and not actually looking at what it is and how asexual people actually are. In fact, they think asexual people are a very diverse bunch and you can’t make general claims about their politicalness. Which is fair.

Anyway, they’re going to look at the politics of asexual people, and they’re doing this in an interesting way where they are committed to studying the world from the participant’s perspective. This is interesting because, generally speaking, it is impossible for a researcher to entirely remove themselves from an interpretation, because they’re human, and that’s not how humans work. It’s particularly interesting if this means they’re just going to take their participant’s word as gospel, because folks have this nasty habit of lying to researchers.

So, working through past literature now.

They got a good handle on the different parts of the spectrum though, nice, nice.

And critique essentialism, all to the good.

Then they’re saying that the establishment of asexuality as legitimate relied vision of an asexual person is the ‘gold star’ asexual (yikes yikes yikes) cause that sectioned off some people who you could still intervene with, so the social dominance of sex in society is unchallenged. This negates the ‘radical potential’ of sexuality which is to suggest the FUCKING WILD NOTION that maybe it’s okay for anyone to not want sex. Like, maybe sex could just be a thing, and not a prerequisite of being normal or intimate???

Anyway, the idea that it could suggest this buck wild idea basically spawned a bunch of articles expecting asexuality to pretty much fix everything wrong with society. We’re questioning mainstream culture, we’re rethinking intimacy, we’re desexualising identity, we’re radical (in the political sense of the word) just by existing. Also just “fundamentally anarchist” because we reclaim agency over our body by not wanting to have sex? Dunno about that one, but I might be down for an A tattoo in ace colours.

But our three musketeers say these are a bunch of claims just pulled out of a collective ass, there’s not data whatsoever. Also, all that stuff talks about ‘asexuality’ like it’s some distinct entity (like how folks talk about capitalism but good) and not a thing that people have. So there’s no discussion of how other aspects of people have (race, gender, class, disability etc) interact with asexuality. And of course they do, people are people.

And they want to see some real resistance, alright? Some proper political action and mobalisation, not just thinking radically. Or, I guess, living in a way that resists norms? Or maybe that counts as taking a political position. I guess we’ll have to wait because now it’s time for METHODOLOGY.

So right off the bat we’re talking qualitative. Interviews and a diary. Data from a study originally looking at asexual identity formation and the construction of intimate relationships, but they figure they had enough to do a little article on the politics of it too. And like they said before, they’re looking at what it is that their participants think they’re doing. They call themselves out a bit, saying that maybe their participants might not know if they’re being political, but I’m gonna add in here that this interview was probably advertised as being about the asexual identity. Folks were asked if they had ‘been an activist in the asexual community or in relation to asexual issues’ sure, but it wasn’t advertised as political so they might not be getting the political peeps!

AND ANOTHER THING (cause we’re into recruitment now), you’re not going to get the people like me. The people who care Very Much about their identity, but are also Very Scared to talk about it with pretty much everyone who hasn’t unlocked like sixth tier trust. And they don’t mention this, even while they’re patting themselves on the back for how many diverse identities they got (never mind that the sample is nearly 74% white, 76% younger than 29, and 54% had a university qualification). People who have the most issues are unlikely to be fitting into those categories, either.

But fuck it, let’s get to the analysis.

How central did the participants consider asexuality to be in their lives? You’ll be fucking astounded to know that it varied!!! Amazing, right? But mainly what they’re looking at is whether folks saw asexuality as a key factor marginalising them. (This is about where I started crying last time, but I’m channeling that into anger to try and keep it together so buckle the fuck up).

Our brave trio admits that they did “””””of course””””” find evidence of discrimination against asexual people, and say that they really don’t want to downplay it, but hey, most of the people they talked to didn’t experience it! They just talked about hearing about it! Like, NO SHIT MOTHERFUCKERS! YOU TALKED TO 50 FUCKING PEOPLE WHO WANTED TO TALK TO YOU! YOU THINK YOU’RE GOING TO FIND A TREND WITH THAT?? And also let’s not downplay what it can do to a person to hear about how others like them are threatened with rape, huh? Let’s maybe think about the effect of that, huh?

Like, yes, the participants who said that it’s not as bad as the history of oppression that homosexuality has are entirely valid. But the researchers who say multiple times that they don’t want to downplay the effect of discrimination and oppression and then ignore the instances they found in favour of talking about ways it could be worse are NOT.

And then they’re saying that it’s not significant to come out, because it’s ‘a lack’ and they cite a couple of participants who say they don’t come out on a regular basis and here is where we get to crux of my problem with their methodology. Because what they’re doing is they’re taking what these participants said and they’re going, ‘oh, yup, that must be why.’ And that’s all well and good, but if some rando I barely knew asked me why I didn’t come out to all an sundry I might also say something along the lines of ‘oh, well, you know, it’s not a huge deal, it’s not something the public needs to know.’ But Reader, it is a huge deal, at least for me. I’m fucking terrified of coming out to people. People LIE. We lie all the time, we tell people what we think they want to hear, and that means that there could very well be a reason I’m reading what these people said and hearing echoes of the tired old aphobic discourse.

Not saying that is what’s going on, just raising the possibility which they have yet to do.

Yeah, yeah, see here, heteroromantic asexual talking about how they realise their privilege and can pass as straight. Sound familiar? Maybe that is their experience. Maybe it’s what they think the interview wants to be their experience. WHO’S TO SAY?

Yeah, so they conclude that maybe asexuality isn’t very central in their participant’s lives, and we get the title quote of “asexual isn’t who I am. This is just what I am, not who I am as a person.” Which is interesting, because I was just reading another article where gay men said the same thing.

But they say this quotation shows that asexual can be a description of actions one doesn’t take rather than an aspect of a person which creates marginalisation and UM WHAT? You could just as easily say that ‘this is just what I am’ shows a deeper claiming of identity, making it a physical aspect of you which could actually lead to marginalisation. Hey, maybe the context of the quote makes it clear. Don’t know, though, BECAUSE THEY DON’T GIVE ANY.

And now we’re moving on to activism, which I don’t expect to make me as angry, but we’ll see. (Editor’s note: It did.)

Yeah, so there’s more of the drawing the line between how people would like recognition of asexuality and the activism necessary for the wider LGBT community, which, again, valid. But they say that this means that the people who say this feel less need to confront forms of discrimination, when the selfsame participant they are discussing explicitly outlined a need for better education.

APPARENTLY there was no suggestion that the educatory action people engaged in linked to a wider question of social change which, I mean, sure, had you not already called yourself out on participants maybe not being politically conscious I might allow. But you did, and what’s more, I bet you didn’t even fucking ask them if they saw it as social change. And since when was education not social change? How are folks supposed to know that it’s okay not to want sex if you don’t TELL THEM THROUGH THE EDUCATION SYSTEM???

And then they have the nerve the fucking audacity to say that while it is “of course” admirable, it doesn’t show a desire to challenge a social system. EDUCATION IS A SOCIAL SYSTEM, YOU ABSOLUTE WALNUTS.

Now, online activity

This is mainly about people’s attitudes to AVEN which I don’t really know anything about, but it’s people talking about how it feels to find a label and answers, which is some much needed wholesomeness. And I feel like people’s opinions on a particular organisation or website to use for community are much more valid to take at face value. Much less interpretation going on.

LGBT groups/politics. Oh dear.

“The relations between our participants and LGBT groups were complex and multifaceted” oh, I bet they were.

Again, they found more people talking about hearing others excluded rather than seeing them excluded themselves. Kinda idea that the political standpoints might be different, but they don’t really dwell on that, they just head on through to really ram home the idea that asexual people are all different and might not hold inherently queer political perspectives.

And finally, finally, the conclusion. People are different, political literature is wrong, asexuality is not a fucking cure all. Now, they outline a couple of responses to their argument that folks might take.

One: the idea that by being asexual, people have the potential to question society. They say this takes people out of their context, and that their way of looking at human action is better.

Two: a radical politics that hopes to transcend sexual society is the best/only way for asexuality to get social acceptance, never mind what the experiences of the participants say. They don’t want to say whether this is true or not, but say that sociologists should distinguish between arguing for the things they like and arguing that those things are what a certain group should do.

And now for my own conclusion. I know I have issues. I am very ‘sensitive’ around this topic. And, just to be clear, I don’t think there’s anything intrinsically radical in being asexual, either. I think it might inspire a person to take a radical bent on life, but that’s up to an individual.

But these folks, these silly sausages, in their eagerness to disagree with everyone fell over themselves to gleefully stab each other in the foot. They took an extremely shallow look at their data, not interrogating why people might be telling them these things at all. Additionally, they clearly didn’t want to find much evidence of social activism, and one can’t help but wonder if that is why their definition was so crushingly tight that it didn’t.

They got to an answer I agree with, but boy howdy did they make a mess doing it.

#i'm gonna have to write a proper review on this #i sunk so much time in

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dogmapod · 5 years

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01 Falun Gong

Hey everyone, welcome to the show Dogma: A Podcast About Cults, I’m your host Denis Ricardo.

This show is about cults. The origins, practices and abuses of cults. So, if you are uncomfortable with descriptions of sexual, physical and mental violence and abuse, this is not the show for you.

I’m gonna try to keep it light and fun, but this stuff can get kind of dark… so you’ve been warned.

Today we’re gonna look into a cult by the name of Falun Gong. It’s one that not a lot of people have heard of, but are surprisingly very familiar with.

It’s a fairly young cult, not more than 27 years old. It began in 1992 in the northeast of China and was founded by a guy by the name of Li Hongzhi. I’m going to apologize on the pronunciation of some of these proper nouns, I am really bad at pronouncing the tones in Chinese languages.

The cult all began with Li Hongzhi running a public qigong seminar in the city of Changchun.

Qigong is an ancient Chinese practice of meditation and slow movement for the purpose of self-healing. It was and is still used in many Chinese communities as a form of alternative medicine.

The modern qigong movement started in the 1950s, shortly after the Cultural Revolution started by Mao Zedong.

Mao was a pretty hardline atheist, and believed that superstitious practices were not good for the advancement of China and communism. So, soldiers in Mao’s army adapted qigong to just be about meditation and focus, taking out all the of the spiritual elements of it. The practice was pretty popular and remains very common to this day.

Li felt a little differently about qigong, though. He feels as though the spiritual elements should be restored. So, he did just that.

Falun Gong was actually in the Chinese Communist Party’s favor, and initially saw it as a good movement. But they quickly changed their mind after they thought the movement was getting a little too independent. The Chinese government is notorious for monitoring the religious practices in China. So, in 1999 the Chinese Communist Party branded Falun Gong as heretical and began a massive propaganda campaign against the group. It mostly focused on negative articles in state-run press, which Falun Gong was quick to protest.

In April of 1999 10,000 Falun Gong protested outside a government compound in the capital Beijing demand that the government recognize them as a religious movement and stop persecuting them.

In China there are only 5 officially recognized religions because it is an atheist state. Those are Buddhism, Taoism, Catholicism, Protestantism and Islam.

Side note, just because I’m formerly Catholic,

China’s relationship with Catholicism kind of interesting, China does not recognize the power of the Holy See’s authority to appoint bishops. So Catholics in China aren’t “Roman” Catholic or “Orthodox” Catholics they’re “Chinese” Catholics. Their relationship is contentious, but China has granted the Pope the right to reject any of the Chinese appointed bishops.

But moving on… at this point, the leader of Falun Gong, Li, was already in New York at and he was getting the cult off the ground here in the US.

But things were pretty bad for Falun Gong practitioners in China.

Reports of forced re-education, extrajudicial executions, harvesting of organs and attacks by the Chinese police at the behest of the Communist Party against Falun Gong practitioners surfaced. But, it’s not the easiest to corroborate these claims, because neither Falun Gong or the CCP are necessarily the most upfront about their practices. The New York Times has said there has been at least 2000 deaths in 2009, though Falun Gong claims that number is nearly twice that. An independent investigator, Ethan Gutmann estimates there were at least 65,000 Falun Gong members killed for organs based off of interviews. Chinese authorities do not publish statistics of Falun Gong members killed or not killed.

OK, do some less depressing stuff, Falun Gong’s main practices.

Falun Gong is a blend of traditional Chinese beliefs, Taoism, Buddhism and Confucianism.

They have three central tenants of power Truthfulness (真, Zhēn)*, Compassion (善, Shàn)*, and Forbearance (忍, Rěn)*. Thank you, Google Translate. These are achieved through meditative exercise and performance.

*these words were reproduced with Google Translate pronouncing them

Falun Gong’s teachings say that everybody is innately good and divine, but that we have descended into darkness and accrued bad karma. Reincarnation is handled by different gods for different people and ultimately the goal is to be released from the cycle of samsara and to reach enlightenment.

This sounds pretty normal for an Asian religion like Buddhism. So far so good? [With hesitation in their voice] Yeah, it gets a little weirder.

Falun Gong emphasizes traditional Chinese teachings and disregards scientific claims like evolution. This also explains why they are vehemently against communism because it is not Chinese, it’s a European philosophy.

As I said before China is an atheist state, and typically Buddhists do not have an issue with evolution and Buddhism. I couldn’t find any numbers specifically citing the public acceptance of evolution in China, however. But I have found that it is taught in school like here in American coastal elite public schools without much of a hitch.

David Ownby, a professor at the Center of East Asian Studies at the University of Montreal interviewed the leader Li Hongzhi and said that Li claims there are 10,000 supernatural powers, such as clairvoyance, precognition, levitation and transmutation and these can be achieved by humans.

Li stated at a lecture in Australia that

“…homosexuality, organized crime and promiscuous sex are not the standards of being human.”

His stance on homosexuality lead to the rescinding of a Nobel Peace Prize nomination by San Franciscan legislators back in 2001.

Li and Falun Gong have also been criticized for their teaching of mixed-marriages. A New York Times article from 2001 states

“[Li] said interracial children are the spawn of the ‘Dharma Ending Period,' a Buddhist phrase that refers to an era of moral degeneration. […] he said each race has its own paradise, and he later told followers in Australia that, 'The yellow people, the white people, and the black people have corresponding races in heaven.’ As a result, he said, interracial children have no place in heaven without his intervention.”

Many practitioners of Falun Gong have denied this and have pointed out that many of its members are in mixed-race families.

But, let’s not forget the aliens.

So Li in general seems to be against most modern things. In a 1999 TIME Magazine interview in he said:

“The aliens have introduced modern machinery like computers and airplanes…everyone thinks that scientists invent on their own when in fact their inspiration is manipulated by the aliens. In terms of culture and spirit, they already control man…the ultimate purpose is to replace humans. If cloning human beings succeeds, the aliens can officially replace humans”

Li also thinks very highly of himself. The BBC, quote:

“…he is a being from a higher level who has come to help [mankind] from the destruction it could face as the result of rampant evil.”

Having a leader proclaim to know the way to save humanity is one of the signs that the leader’s group is a cult.

So, remember when I said that another one ways to get to their three central tenants was performance? Well, you know how they do it? By selling you $150 tickets to see the spectacle of 5000 years of traditional Chinese dance while listening to anti-atheist, anti-communist propaganda… it’s Shen Yun.

So apparently Shen Yun ads popping up everywhere is now a meme, but I’ve grown up in California all my life, and I swear I’ve been seeing these things since at least 2008. These things aren’t new to me. But I guess they’re finally getting to middle America, so people can joke about it.

I said before Falun Gong was anti-Communist and anti-evolution? Well, it shows up in the performance

Here’s a sample of lyrics from a song in the show called “Awaken”

"So long ago you came down to this world For millennia you have reincarnated here Fighting to get ahead, the true you has faded Self-interested actions have cost you your purity Atheism is a pack of lies The heresy of evolution now eclipses the Divine word Amidst disaster, people complain that the gods have forsaken us Do not use science to drive humanity toward danger You came to this world for salvation, your destiny To return to heaven is your soul's deepest wish You came to this world for salvation, your destiny To return to heaven is your destiny."

And, as I said before, the group is condemned by the Chinese government. The Chinese embassy made a post on their website, calling Falun Gong an anti-communist cult, that it undermines US-Chinese relations and that Shen Yun is a political tool for this cult and is anti-Chinese agitprop. This was all in English, and I find it a little weird they’d call it “agitprop” because that’s typically reserved for communist propaganda. So I found it a little strange.

But clearly this is also propaganda, it’s a statement by a government body, and all reports on its more outrageous beliefs are from western publications so there is a bias. But straight from the horse’s mouth is the anti-evolution message and we know that these performers don’t get paid.

In the end, it’s hard to classify this as a cult. It has cult-like elements, like surveillance by a government, a savior-leader. But it lacks a hierarchy and I could not find anyone who had left the movement and faced consequences for it, which are typically signs of a cult.

It’s got some very out-there, potentially dangerous beliefs, but is it a cult? [With hesitation in their voice) Personally, I’m gonna say yes, though I don’t think it necessarily ticks all those checkboxes, so maybe it can’t really be classified as a cult.

Now comes the fun part, where I get to beg you for money. I come to you hat in hand to maybe just consider throwing a dollar or two to my Patreon. I can’t offer much right now as far as donor rewards go, but I will try my best to give you access to episodes early and maybe some other fun side projects that I have available that are still loosely related to cults. That you so much if you decide to be ever so gracious.

Thanks so much for listening, that was the first episode. I will put all of my sources in the description. Most are from Wikipedia, but I checked to see if those sources were legit, so lay off me.

New time, we’re going to be focusing on a cult a little closer to home and maybe some of you remember this cult very vividly.

All right, take care and goodbye.

Citations:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Falun_Gong

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/History_of_Falun_Gong

http://www.atheistrepublic.com/forums/atheist-hub/shen-yun

https://culteducation.com/group/1254-falun-gong/6922-is-falun-gong-a-cult.html

https://www.jewishpolicycenter.org/2010/11/30/china-conundrum/

http://faluninfo.net/category/persecution/killings/individual-cases-of-falun-gong-deaths/

https://www.amnesty.org/en/countries/

https://books.google.com/books?id=Bwqkwx4SWS0C&printsec=frontcover&dq=ownby+falun&client=firefox-a&cd=1#v=onepage&q&f=false

Song Credits:

“Frozen Jungle” and “Dreaming of You” by Monplaisir under the name Komiku (http://freemusicarchive.org/music/Komiku/)

“我们是毛主席的红卫兵 (We Are Chairman Mao’s Red Guard)” found at Songs of China’s Cultural Revolution (http://academics.wellesley.edu/Polisci/wj/China/CRSongs/crsongs.htm)

“Dies Irae” found on Archive.org (https://archive.org/details/GregorianChantMass

“Ride to the Party” by Monplaisir under the name Anonymous420 (https://chezmonplaisir.bandcamp.com/album/this-is-not-you)

Consider joining the Patreon!

#Falun Gong #Shen Yun #Cults #Cult

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english-ext-2 · 6 years

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Viva Voce (NEW)

Please note exact requirements will vary across schools, and all analysis here is based on the sample assessment/support material from the NESA website

The Viva Voce is the first formal assessment task, worth 30% of your internal mark. It’s the only assessment carried over from the old course, so some of the information here is recycled from my original post.

The Viva is a 15-20 minute panel interview where you present your Major Work to your teachers and respond to their questions. It’s basically “selling” your MW and its concept: “hey, look at how great my idea is! This is the form it’ll take, here’s the research I’ve done so far, and this is how I intend to carry it out.” You will also need to submit your Major Work Journal for review.

According to the sample assessment material on the NESA website, the presentation could include the following:

A thorough explanation of the purpose, audience, context and form of your Major Work

Acknowledgement of the sources you have used in developing the proposal and inquiry question

An outline of your plan to complete the Major Work project including a timeline

References to your journal to assist in explaining choices made and research completed.

Before I unpack the above, I want to briefly address concept. You obviously need to explain to the panel what your MW is about, but concept also underpins your understanding of purpose, audience, context and form. I have other detailed posts on developing a concept, but for our purposes here I just wanted to highlight concept as key to how you explain everything else required of you in the Viva.

Explanation of purpose, audience, context and form (+ concept) of your MW

While it’s important to explain each of these individually, it’s just as (if not more) important to link them together.

Purpose: Basically what you’ve set out to do with your MW. At this stage, it should not be something bland like “I aim to entertain my audience” or “I want to make people think”. Literally anybody could say that about their major. What is it that you want your MW to do specifically? What is the “conceptual purpose” of your MW, if you will. You might like to start out brainstorming a list of verbs, or thinking about the messages/themes you want to explore in your major.

Audience: Who is your Major Work intended for? Which group of people will respond to your major in the way you want them to? Again, broad answers along the lines of “the general public”, “high school students”, or “young people” won’t cut it. You need to delve a little deeper. Running with the last two examples, it’d be more “high school students who are highly active on social media” or “young people frustrated with their experience of the political system”. Specificity! It’s your friend.

Context: To quote the NESA glossary, context is “the range of personal, social, historical, cultural and workplace conditions in which a text is responded to and composed.” Replace “text” with “major work”, focus on “composed”, and you’ve got the gist. You need to be aware of your context (how your MW links to Advanced and Extension, for example) AND situate your MW in its context, e.g. a critical response on female journalists in WWII would require some knowledge of wartime reporting, government propaganda, censorship, attitudes towards women in journalism, etc.

Form: Most obviously, what is your form? And why have you chosen it? I’m not sure as to how detailed an answer teachers expect from the second question, but you should have some idea beyond “I like it.” This is where tying form to the other elements becomes important. What makes your form the most appropriate for your concept, purpose, and audience?

Putting it all together

Running through every permutation of purpose, audience, context and form would take far too long, so I’m going to limit this section to the relationships I personally find to be the most important. Please note that I’ve chosen to pair the elements for simplicity’s sake, but they all feed back into and overlap with one another.

Form and audience

Let’s say your major is a short story. Your intended audience would obviously not be film critics or even people who enjoy watching films. In other words, your intended audience should be directly related to your chosen form.

But there should also be a consideration of how your concept factors in: for example, why did you choose poetry to explore environmental activism on climate change? It could be because poetry is a strongly emotive form, and climate change is an issue that rouses great passion in your intended audience of green activists seeking new, culturally relevant ways to express their concerns around the consequences of failure to act on this issue.

(Btw there’s no shame in saying that you chose a form because it means a great deal to you personally! Familiarity with and fondness for a particular form is a perfectly legit reason to choose it. Just that it can’t be the only reason.)

(I pulled that poetry/climate change example from thin air, but turns out it’s a real thing.)

Audience and purpose

Your understanding of one is shaped by the other, the why of your MW informing the who and vice versa. Just as you wouldn’t buy someone a gift you know they’ll absolutely hate, you wouldn’t create a MW for an audience unlikely to appreciate it.

Say your major aims to deconstruct the Manic Pixie Dream Girl trope in science fiction film and encourage change in the way women are represented in this genre. Film critics and/or cultural studies academics might be interested, but they’re not in the best position to push for change. A better fit would be, say, directors and producers working in the sci-fi genre who are interested in subversive or transformative gender narratives.

Form obviously plays a part here too, since you may have decided a podcast is the best way to reach your affluent and online audience.

Form and purpose

Why is your form best suited to doing the thing you want your MW to do? Or to quote from the NESA description of the Major Work: “The form of the Major Work must be chosen deliberately to contribute to the authenticity, originality and overall conceptual purpose of the work.”

To go with my sci-fi example from above, deconstructions of popular tropes are very well-suited to critical responses (and academic audiences). But as I noted, the purpose of encouraging change in the film industry demands a more visible platform that you’d get with a podcast. If, however, you were more interested in deconstruction-through-satire, a short story or short film would be the better choice.

Acknowledgement of the sources you have used in developing the proposal and inquiry question

It should be self-evident, but bears spelling out in full: cite specific sources. “I read an interesting article online” isn’t as strong as “I read an Atlantic article about how teenagers use Instagram to debate the news, which informed my thinking about the ability of social media to polarise, and the evolution of news consumption among young people.” Let the extent of your independent investigation shine! Show off the knowledge you’ve accumulated! Own your research, basically. (Also ironic in that you’re acknowledging other people’s work, but you get what I mean.)

It wouldn’t hurt to link those specific sources to your proposal and inquiry question. I don’t know how thoroughly you’ll be expected to explain those links, but something like the following would be a decent example: “This Atlantic article helped to narrow the scope of my inquiry question about the impact of social media on news-gathering behaviour to young people, instead of everyone.” The key thing is to at least mention various sources and show the teachers you’ve actually been doing relevant research.

Action plan outline, including timeline

Hint: structure your plan in relation to the composition process. Obviously, the particulars are going to be specific to your major. But be realistic in your planning. Try to strike a balance between micromanagement and no time management at all: while you don’t strictly need to break the entire EE2 course up into minuscule steps like “week two: write the opening scene”, it’s also not helpful to say you’ll tackle the entire investigating stage in January. To reiterate: the points under each stage of the composition process provide a good guide for your action plan.

Be aware of your own and others’ limits too! If you know you’re a serial procrastinator, can you really crank out a first draft in three weeks? Will you be able to secure feedback from your learning community in the week before an assessment block? You also need to account for any other Major Works you’ve got and remember the workload from your other subjects. How will you fit EE2 around them? There’s nothing wrong in keeping your timeline tight, a kind of platonic ideal to which you aspire, but it shouldn’t be so unrealistic as to be impossible.

I say it in my guide to the composition process, but remember that your action plan will likely change throughout the year. Life happens! Something might happen in your personal life; you could come down with the flu; maybe a friend is late in getting their feedback to you, and you find yourself falling behind schedule. It’s not the end of the world. You can adjust your action plan as you go - working around obstacles is part and parcel of EE2.

References to your journal to assist in explaining choices made and research completed

You should be able to point to specific entries in your journal to explain why you made a decision, which is a good time to remind you to keep your journal up to date!! Back-filling entries is a pain but also procedurally unsound, since you can’t return to your state of mind and exact train of thought when you made a decision.

Preparing for the Viva

You’ll be given the questions 15 minutes beforehand, but that doesn’t mean you can’t prepare. Make sure you are familiar with and prepared to discuss your major’s concept, form, purpose, audience and context (particularly links to Advanced and Extension coursework).

If you’re still in doubt, the old English Extension 2 Support Document includes a handy list of starting questions, a sample of which I’ve copied below:

Concept

What concept have you developed for your Major Work? Describe it.

Why are you interested in this concept?

What are your sources of inspiration?

How is your concept an extension of the knowledge, understanding and skills developed in English (Advanced) and (Extension) courses?

Purpose

What are you aiming to achieve during the Extension 2 course?

How are you planning to achieve this purpose?

Form

Have you decided on the form in which you would like to compose?

Why have you chosen this particular form?

Intended Audience

Who is the target audience of your work and why?

The questions you answer in the Viva will be different and/or tailored to your MW specifically, but the list above broadly covers the things you’ll be asked. You don’t need to write an entire essay in response to each question; dot points are fine. The Viva is not a speech, so your language doesn’t need to be as formal.

Practice, practice, practice

If you’re worried or anxious about fronting up before a panel, I recommend doing a practice run with a close friend. Grab your notes, MW journal, a stopwatch, and someone you trust, then get them to pitch you the list of questions you’ve prepared for. Use the stopwatch to keep yourself within 15-20 minutes. Practicing will build your confidence and familiarity with your notes, as well as help you cut down on any waffle you might be inclined to.

During the Viva

The preparation is one thing, communicating what you’ve prepared to the panel is another. Of course, a lot depends on who the teachers are, how comfortable you are with them, your own confidence levels, etc. I can’t really help you there. All I can suggest is that you try to convey your interest and enthusiasm to the panel. It’s your project, and you want it to succeed. Channel some of that passion into the way you present your MW. You’re pretty much stopping short of grabbing each teacher by their lapels and yelling LOOK AT THIS FANTASTIC IDEA I HAVE.

The teachers will ask you questions related specifically to your MW, ones which are spontaneous and based on their understanding of your MW as you’ve presented it to them in the Viva. Again, try not to stress. The teachers are not looking for ways to trip you up, they’re helping you to think about the direction your MW could take. One of the most important things you’ll learn from the EE2 course that isn’t mentioned in the learning outcomes is taking criticism. It’s about being able to accept (reasonable) critique of your work and striving to improve those areas, as well as exercising control over your creative process, i.e. not taking absolutely every single suggestion put forward unless you truly believe they’ll all benefit you.

Post-Viva

When you get your marks back there should be comments as well, like suggestions on what you could be reading, or questions that might help you orientate the direction of your MW. Take these on board, and discuss them with your English teacher(s) as soon as possible. The assessment tasks are certainly there to assess you, but they’re also ways to keep you on track and help you to make your MW better. (Keep in mind what I mentioned above about taking criticism/feedback.)

#viva voce #assessments #my posts #hsc #english extension 2 #this got very long #im sorry for everyone on mobile

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loudlytransparenttrash · 6 years

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This Week Within Our Colleges: Part 18

Texas State University student, Rudy Martinez, is doubling down and defending his campus newspaper article ‘Your DNA is an abomination,’ which he argues “white death will be liberation for all,” and tells white people to “accept their death as the first step toward defining themselves as something other than the oppressor.” He goes on to write in his piece, “I hate you because you shouldn’t exist” and “there are only about a dozen white people” he would “consider decent.” He also claims white people have the luxury of always coming home safely and never being nervous when confronted by police officers, hence ‘white privilege.’ Although the article was condemned by the student body president, calling it “blatant racism,” Martinez sees it differently. Citing the left’s dumb, manipulated version of racism which “can only be from a position of power,’ Martinez claims he is proud of his stance against the bad white people.

SIT Graduate Institute have released a paper which encourages educators to promote “racial identity” among minority students to prevent “assimilation into the dominant culture.” The author, Hadiel Mohamed, says she “aims to answer how educators can incorporate ethnic/racial identity development in the classroom for youth of color who are driven to pursue whiteness.” “Our education system has been used as an oppressive tool for people of color.” Mohamed contends. “We see the preservation of whiteness through immigration laws. There has been a deliberate attempt at preserving the white race within the United States by racializing our borders.” She worries her fellow POC will “adapt, conform and assimilate to whiteness" and become just as complicit in all of this oppression. To avoid this, she encourages educators to help them become hyper aware of their own racial identity and develop a sense of ethnic pride early enough in the classroom before they can “conceptualize the ways expected to assimilate within white society.” How does she plan to teach these kids to be proud of their ethnicity and refuse whiteness? Lessons on the “injustices enacted upon people of color,” of course!

A University of Colorado, Denver administrator worries that white children may “forfeit their humanity” if they aren’t raised by sufficiently woke parents. She argues that parents should employ “critical race parenting” to prevent white children from committing “racial microaggressions” against their peers. She goes on to suggest that white people are “constantly wielding racial microaggressions,” and that over time these microaggressions can cause “racial battle fatigue,” noting that children of color are especially susceptible to this horror. White children, on the other hand, are especially prone to committing racial microaggressions because they “learn a complicated dance of whiteness” that teaches them not only to “maintain and defend whiteness,” but to do so while claiming to be “colorblind.” “When they learn to love their whiteness, their souls waste away as they are quietly tearing themselves from humanity and real love,” she writes. “Can we instead begin at the core with our white children and work to ward off white identity and whiteness before they succumb and forfeit their humanity in order to join the oppressor?”

University of Wisconsin-Madison is once again offering their charming course, ‘Problem of Whiteness.’ The African Cultural Studies course seeks to teach students to “understand how whiteness is constructed and experienced in order to dismantle white supremacy,” according to the online description. The professor teaching this course just so happens to be a white guy, and says it’s important to explore whiteness because “the problem of racism is the problem of whites being racist towards blacks.”

The same professor also chaired a panel discussion with the same name as his course, ‘Problem of Whiteness,’ which involved another white professor from the Florida Atlantic University, who encouraged the scholars in the audience to spend more time listening to their white, male conservative students. He goes on to argue the reason professors need to be more open-minded towards them isn’t because it’s the fair and right thing to do, but because if they don’t, it will lead these young white men to become anti-feminist and white nationalists which then leads to “the radical militarization of white men that we’ve seen time and time again, all too recently materialize in mass shootings.” The professor goes on to explain how discussions on whiteness “lets white students come to grips with their racist inheritance” and “allows students of color to talk about alternatives to a white supremacist society.”

University of Michigan held a two-day training session that aimed to encourage white employees to deal with their “whiteness” so they could become better equipped to fight for social justice causes. Participants who took part in the “Conversations on Whiteness” session were taught to “unpack their whiteness” in order for them to “recognize the difficulties they face when talking about social justice issues related to their white identity, explore this discomfort, and devise ways to work through it.”

Two New England professors have urged their colleagues to cultivate a “space free from microaggressions” by adopting a “social justice agenda” in class. Their first recommendation for professors involves requiring students to wear “name cards with gender pronouns” to avoid instant microaggressions on the first day. Their second brilliant idea is to quickly stop any conversation from turning into a debate as that allows “one student to be wrong and one to be right,” and that’s a microaggression. “Dialogue, not debate,” you see? To prevent conversation from turning into a debate, the professors suggest asking the individual pressing the other to “move out” of the discussion, which is a disabled-friendly way of saying “step out,” avoiding another microaggression, you see! They conclude by expressing hope that their recommendations will help to create an “anti-oppressive arena for learning,” declaring social justice essential to education.

University of Southern Indiana is the latest school to embrace the left’s tragically regressive push for us to go back in time and see nothing but a person’s skin color when we look at them. Students are being encouraged to “reject colorblindness,” as it’s today racist and microaggressive against racial minorities when white people say, “I don’t see color when I look at people.” A “good ally” instead identifies and “acknowledges the oppressed and disadvantaged group to which the person belongs,” and then behave accordingly around them in order to “reduce their own complicity or collusion in the oppression” of that group.

San Diego State University held a bizarre workshop which certain students were required to attend as part of their class. Organizers described the experience as “shocking” and “disturbing” but it’s all to help the students “step outside their comfort zone and into the shoes of those who are struggling with oppressive circumstances.” Students were walked through a darkened room where they were met by campus leaders acting out a series of horror scenarios non-white people supposedly find themselves in every day. The students were screamed at and told to face the wall before listing a bunch of minorities “they” have gone after. They were then confronted with “ICE agents” breaking into a home and stealing family members, while another scene acted out Nazis. The performance then showed a girl “having a problem” with her new roommate because she’s “a little too foreign.” The students were then taken into a room and debriefed by professors about how these totally realistic plays made them feel and what they should change about themselves to better combat this oppression. “It is our sincere hope that by exposing students to the oppressive systems in society they’ll take a look at how we all participate in these systems and hopefully commit to changing oppressive patterns and behaviors,” the professor says.

Reed College finance office was shut down for three days after a group of students from the ‘Reedies Against Racism’ group forced their way in and refused to leave, blocking the employees and harassing them with demands. They ordered the school to sever its ties with a bank whom they claim is funding the “mass incarceration of POC.” During planning for the protest, white members of the group were designated jobs listed on the ‘Whitey Tasks” which "did not require POC approval,” such as printing labels and carrying objects, while POC in charge dealt with the more serious stuff. The same group have also protested against the school’s Western Civilization course, demanding for it to be “reformed” and taught through the lens of oppression.

Two University of Northern Iowa professors have blasted the prevalence of "white civility" in college classrooms, saying that civil behavior reinforces "white racial power." This civility can reinforce white privilege, the professors argue, and it can even “reproduce white racial power.” To prove their point, they interviewed ten white students and asked them what civil behavior means to them. Those who mentioned “treating everyone equally" were accused of erasing the identity of POC and reinforcing whiteness. The students also became guilty of white privilege if they admitted they spoke to students of color nicely and politely when discussing race. To fight this, the professors suggest that college professors intervene, saying “it is important instructors ensure their classrooms are spaces that challenge, rather than perpetuate, whiteness and white civility.”

University of Rhode Island professors have come up with a way of helping the school’s non-white students deal with all the “racial microaggressions” they’re confronted with daily on campus. Professor Annemarie Vaccaro, the same person who came up with the term “invisibility microagressions” - which is when a ‘person of color’ “feels invisible” around white people - explains the only way these poor, victimized bastards can cope with all of this microaggression is to provide them with extensive therapy and counseling. Providing therapy to a bunch of people who have been misled into believing every slight and moment of discomfort is a coordinated attack against them? Instead of just reminding them they’re perfectly free and capable adults who are in control of their own damn lives? Sounds a lot like feminism.

University of Wisconsin-Madison social justice student group were outraged to discover the school’s football team and band spent a night in a Trump hotel during their Orange Bowl appearance. The group released a statement stating they are “disappointed” and “concerned” with this “massive violation.” “College football makes its profits off the work and talents of people of color. It is absolutely disgusting the very same people of color are being rewarded with a stay in accommodation owned by a man who is one of the biggest oppressors of people of color in this country.” They then go on to accuse Trump of more racism, “questionable working conditions” and “human rights violations” and demand the school to never stay at a Trump hotel EVER again. There’s only one problem - the retards didn’t realize Orange Bowl’s contract with the Trump hotel was set four years ago, and according to Orange Bowl vice president, the hotel not only meets their standards and requirements but exceeds them.

Professors in New York have united to sign a letter calling for New York City to remove monuments of Theodore Roosevelt and Christopher Columbus, saying the statues of the historical figures represent “white supremacy.” “For too long, they have generated harm and offense as expressions of white supremacy,” the professors say in their petition to the mayor and city commissioners. “The monuments are a stark embodiment of white supremacy, and are an especial source of hurt to black and indigenous people among them.” They go on to call for a “bold statement” to be made in removing the statues, declaring such a move would show the world that “racism won’t be celebrated in New York City.”

Ohio State held an event named “Managing the Trauma of Race,” which aimed to teach black students strategies for “self care and activism” and how to “mitigate the trauma the African American community faces from individual, systemic and institutional racism.” The school’s Multicultural Center website states that black Americans are “bombarded” with racism and that it “leads individuals to experience trauma on a daily basis.” What’s traumatizing here is teaching young Americans everything in life is either racist or microaggressive and their lives are a predetermined dead-end designed by white people.

The University of Washington professor who invented the concept 'white fragility’ has quit her job to travel the country giving seminars on ‘white fragility.’ These seminars begin with Robin DiAngelo, who just so happens to be a white woman, telling the white people in the audience to stand and walk on stage. The white people are then required to read from a projection screen, each taking turns admitting their sins, such as “internalized superiority” and “racial privilege.” When they’re finished reading, DiAngelo tells the audience to “not clap” for the white people as they return to their seats. Question-and-answer sessions are also permitted from her seminars - I’m not surprised.

UC Santa Barbara is currently dealing with one helluva internal catfight. An employee popular with trans student activists was dismissed from her position in the school’s Sexual and Gender Diversity center. What was the response from the students? Angry protests and accusations of the Sexual and Gender Diversity center “perpetuating violence against queer, transgender people and marginalized communities” and “perpetuating the systems of white supremacy,” of course! The activist students listed a set of demands during their protests, which included a new building for the center, a doubling of the center’s program budget and extra funding for the school’s queer and trans health advocate. Along with a “trans taskforce advocacy coordinator” (whatever the hell that is) they also demanded for the employee to be reinstated while demanding the center’s director and assistant dean to resign. What was the administration’s response? Heartfelt apologies and total compliance to the demands, of course!

Cal State San Marcos held an event called “Whiteness Forum,” detailing the many different ways in which “whiteness” in America oppresses people of color and society. Guests were welcomed with a large banner reading the “Whiteness Forum is about reflecting on white privilege and racism.” Several anti-Trump displays were also set up around the room. The forum kicked off with some slam poetry performed by students in the “Communication of Whiteness” class who took the opportunity to express their frustration with whiteness. One of the performers, a black female student, called Africa “the greatest country in the world” and went on to claim, “On a daily basis I am seen as a threat, but you get a pass because you’re white.” Another student offered similar sentiments in their “poetry”: “Whiteness thrives on the hate of everyone. Every day is a day to challenge whiteness.” After the performances, the professor in charge of the event encouraged the crowd to interact with her students and learn about the “white supremacy” in all its forms embedded across the country.

Evergreen State College has a new section in its student newspaper dedicated strictly to non-white students in an effort to provide a “place where POC can be us without it being overshadowed by the dark cloud that is living under white supremacy.” They gave an inspiring introduction, encouraging only POC who are united by fear of Nazis and police to get on board with submissions, before footnoting the popular, “Dear white people“ routine, explaining how having a problem with the bizarre concept of white fragility is actually evidence of white fragility, and how embarrassing it is when white people say “we need to view people through a color-blind lens.”

University of Minnesota community members were handed a memo from their Office of Equal Opportunity and Affirmative Action to warn against creating a hostile environment for students who could be offended by the joy of Christmas - I think we all know who they’re talking about here. Items the document describes as “not appropriate,” include bows, bells, Santa Claus, Christmas trees, wrapped gifts, the star of Bethlehem, angels and doves. Also included were decorations in red and green or blue and white themed colors. State University of New York, Brockport issued similar guidances, banning “culturally sensitive holiday decorations.” Life University sponsored a decorating contest, but the decorations were ordered to be “inclusive to other cultures and religions.” University of California, Irvine encouraged everyone to celebrate the winter season rather than the Christmas holiday itself while. Many other institutions omitted the word “Christmas.” University of Alabama’s student newspaper accused Trump of being a Christian bigot for returning a nativity scene to the White House.

#college

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antoine-roquentin · 7 years

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“This... thing, [the War on Drugs] this ain't police work... I mean, you call something a war and pretty soon everybody gonna be running around acting like warriors... running around on a damn crusade, storming corners, slapping on cuffs, racking up body counts... pretty soon, damn near everybody on every corner is your f**king enemy. And soon the neighborhood that you're supposed to be policing, that's just occupied territory.” -- Major "Bunny" Colvin, season three of HBO’s The Wire

I can remember both so well.

2006: my first raid in South Baghdad. 2014: watching on YouTube as a New York police officer asphyxiated -- murdered -- Eric Garner for allegedly selling loose cigarettes on a Staten Island street corner not five miles from my old apartment. Both events shocked the conscience.

It was 11 years ago next month: my first patrol of the war and we were still learning the ropes from the army unit we were replacing. Unit swaps are tricky, dangerous times. In Army lexicon, they’re known as “right-seat-left-seat rides.” Picture a car. When you’re learning to drive, you first sit in the passenger seat and observe. Only then do you occupy the driver’s seat. That was Iraq, as units like ours rotated in and out via an annual revolving door of sorts. Officers from incoming units like mine were forced to learn the terrain, identify the key powerbrokers in our assigned area, and sort out the most effective tactics in the two weeks before the experienced officers departed. It was a stressful time.

Those transition weeks consisted of daily patrols led by the officers of the departing unit. My first foray off the FOB (forward operating base) was a night patrol. The platoon I’d tagged along with was going to the house of a suspected Shiite militia leader. (Back then, we were fighting both Shiite rebels of the Mahdi Army and Sunni insurgents.) We drove to the outskirts of Baghdad, surrounded a farmhouse, and knocked on the door. An old woman let us in and a few soldiers quickly fanned out to search every room. Only women -- presumably the suspect’s mother and sisters -- were home. Through a translator, my counterpart, the other lieutenant, loudly asked the old woman where her son was hiding. Where could we find him? Had he visited the house recently? Predictably, she claimed to be clueless. After the soldiers vigorously searched (“tossed”) a few rooms and found nothing out of the norm, we prepared to leave. At that point, the lieutenant warned the woman that we’d be back -- just as had happened several times before -- until she turned in her own son.

I returned to the FOB with an uneasy feeling. I couldn’t understand what it was that we had just accomplished. How did hassling these women, storming into their home after dark and making threats, contribute to defeating the Mahdi Army or earning the loyalty and trust of Iraqi civilians? I was, of course, brand new to the war, but the incident felt totally counterproductive. Let’s assume the woman’s son was Mahdi Army to the core. So what? Without long-term surveillance or reliable intelligence placing him at the house, entering the premises that way and making threats could only solidify whatever aversion the family already had to the U.S. Army. And what if we had gotten it wrong? What if he was innocent and we’d potentially just helped create a whole new family of insurgents?

Though it wasn’t a thought that crossed my mind for years, those women must have felt like many African-American families living under persistent police pressure in parts of New York, Baltimore, Chicago, or elsewhere in this country. Perhaps that sounds outlandish to more affluent whites, but it’s clear enough that some impoverished communities of color in this country do indeed see the police as their enemy. For most military officers, it was similarly unthinkable that many embattled Iraqis could see all American military personnel in a negative light. But from that first raid on, I knew one thing for sure: we were going to have to adjust our perceptions -- and fast. Not, of course, that we did.

Years passed. I came home, stayed in the Army, had a kid, divorced, moved a few more times, remarried, had more kids -- my Giants even won two Super Bowls. Suddenly everyone had an iPhone, was on Facebook, or tweeting, or texting rather than calling. Somehow in those blurred years, Iraq-style police brutality and violence -- especially against poor blacks -- gradually became front-page news. One case, one shaky YouTube video followed another: Michael Brown, Eric Garner, Tamir Rice, Philando Castile, and Freddie Gray, just to start a long list. So many of the clips reminded me of enemy propaganda videos from Baghdad or helmet-cam shots recorded by our troopers in combat, except that they came from New York, or Chicago, or San Francisco.

Brutal Connections

As in Baghdad, so in Baltimore. It’s connected, you see. Scholars, pundits, politicians, most of us in fact like our worlds to remain discretely and comfortably separated. That’s why so few articles, reports, or op-ed columns even think to link police violence at home to our imperial pursuits abroad or the militarization of the policing of urban America to our wars across the Greater Middle East and Africa. I mean, how many profiles of the Black Lives Matter movement even mention America’s 16-year war on terror across huge swaths of the planet? Conversely, can you remember a foreign policy piece that cited Ferguson? I doubt it.

Nonetheless, take a moment to consider the ways in which counterinsurgency abroad and urban policing at home might, in these years, have come to resemble each other and might actually be connected phenomena:

*The degradations involved: So often, both counterinsurgency and urban policing involve countless routine humiliations of a mostly innocent populace. No matter how we’ve cloaked the terms -- “partnering,” “advising,” “assisting,” and so on -- the American military has acted like an occupier of Iraq and Afghanistan in these years. Those thousands of ubiquitous post-invasion U.S. Army foot and vehicle patrols in both countries tended to highlight the lack of sovereignty of their peoples. Similarly, as long ago as 1966, author James Baldwin recognized that New York City’s ghettoes resembled, in his phrase, “occupied territory.” In that regard, matters have only worsened since. Just ask the black community in Baltimore or for that matter Ferguson, Missouri. It’s hard to deny America’s police are becoming progressively more defiant; just last month St. Louis cops taunted protestors by chanting “whose streets? Our streets,” at a gathering crowd. Pardon me, but since when has it been okay for police to rule America’s streets? Aren’t they there to protect and serve us? Something tells me the exceedingly libertarian Founding Fathers would be appalled by such arrogance.

*The racial and ethnic stereotyping. In Baghdad, many U.S. troops called the locals hajis, ragheads, or worse still, sandniggers. There should be no surprise in that. The frustrations involved in occupation duty and the fear of death inherent in counterinsurgency campaigns lead soldiers to stereotype, and sometimes even hate, the populations they’re (doctrinally) supposed to protect. Ordinary Iraqis or Afghans became the enemy, an “other,” worthy only of racial pejoratives and (sometimes) petty cruelties. Sound familiar? Listen to the private conversations of America’s exasperated urban police, or the occasionally public insults they throw at the population they’re paid to “protect.” I, for one, can’t forget the video of an infuriated white officer taunting Ferguson protestors: “Bring it on, you f**king animals!” Or how about a white Staten Island cop caught on the phone bragging to his girlfriend about how he’d framed a young black man or, in his words, “fried another nigger.” Dehumanization of the enemy, either at home or abroad, is as old as empire itself.

*The searches: Searches, searches, and yet more searches. Back in the day in Iraq -- I’m speaking of 2006 and 2007 -- we didn’t exactly need a search warrant to look anywhere we pleased. The Iraqi courts, police, and judicial system were then barely operational. We searched houses, shacks, apartments, and high rises for weapons, explosives, or other “contraband.” No family -- guilty or innocent (and they were nearly all innocent) -- was safe from the small, daily indignities of a military search. Back here in the U.S., a similar phenomenon rules, as it has since the “war on drugs” era of the 1980s. It’s now routine for police SWAT teams to execute rubber-stamped or “no knock” search warrants on suspected drug dealers’ homes (often only for marijuanastashes) with an aggressiveness most soldiers from our distant wars would applaud. Then there are the millions of random, warrantless, body searches on America’s urban, often minority-laden streets. Take New York, for example, where a discriminatory regime of “stop-and-frisk” tactics terrorized blacks and Hispanics for decades. Millions of (mostly) minority youths were halted and searched by New York police officers who had to cite only such opaque explanations as “furtive movements,” or “fits relevant description” -- hardly explicit probable cause -- to execute such daily indignities. As numerous studies have shown (and a judicial ruling found), such “stop-and-frisk” procedures were discriminatory and likely unconstitutional.

As in my experience in Iraq, so here on the streets of so many urban neighborhoods of color, anyone, guilty or innocent (mainly innocent) was the target of such operations. And the connections between war abroad and policing at home run ever deeper. Consider that in Springfield, Massachusetts, police anti-gang units learned and applied literal military counterinsurgency doctrine on that city’s streets. In post-9/11 New York City, meanwhile, the NYPD Intelligence Unit practiced religious profiling and implemented military-style surveillance to spy on its Muslim residents. Even America’s stalwart Israeli allies -- no strangers to domestic counterinsurgency -- have gotten in on the game. That country’s Security Forces have been training American cops, despite their long record of documented human rights abuses. How’s that for coalition warfare and bilateral cooperation?

*The equipment, the tools of the trade: Who hasn’t noticed in recent years that, thanks in part to a Pentagon program selling weaponry and equipment right off America’s battlefields, the police on our streets look ever less like kindly beat cops and ever more like Robocop or the heavily armed and protected troops of our distant wars? Think of the sheer firepower and armor on the streets of Ferguson in those photos that shocked and discomforted so many Americans. Or how about the aftermath of the tragic Boston Marathon Bombing? Watertown, Massachusetts, surely resembled U.S. Army-occupied Baghdad or Kabul at the height of their respective troop “surges,” as the area was locked down under curfew during the search for the bombing suspects.

Here, at least, the connection is undeniable. The military has sold hundreds of millions of dollars in excess weapons and equipment -- armored vehicles, rifles, camouflage uniforms, and even drones -- to local police departments, resulting in a revolving door of self-perpetuating urban militarism. Does Walla Walla, Washington, really need the very Mine Resistant Ambush-Protected (MRAP) trucks I drove around Kandahar, Afghanistan? And in case you were worried about the ability of Madison, Indiana (pop: 12,000), to fight off rocket propelled grenades thanks to those spiffy new MRAPs, fear not, President Trump recently overturned Obama-era restrictions on advanced technology transfers to local police. Let me just add, from my own experiences in Baghdad and Kandahar, that it has to be a losing proposition to try to be a friendly beat cop and do community policing from inside an armored vehicle. Even soldiers are taught not to perform counterinsurgency that way (though we ended up doing so all the time).

*Torture: The use of torture has rarely -- except for several years at the CIA -- been official policy in these years, but it happened anyway. (See Abu Ghraib, of course.) It often started small as soldier -- or police -- frustration built and the usual minor torments of the locals morphed into outright abuse. The same process seems underway here in the U.S. as well, which was why, as a 34-year old New Yorker, when I first saw the photos at Abu Ghraib, I flashed back to the way, in 1997, the police sodomized Abner Louima, a Haitian immigrant, in my own hometown. Younger folks might consider the far more recent case in Baltimore of Freddie Gray, brutally and undeservedly handcuffed, his pleas ignored, and then driven in the back of a police van to his death. Furthermore, we now know about two decades worth of systematic torture of more than 100 black men by the Chicago police in order to solicit (often false) confessions.

Unwinnable Wars: At Home and Abroad

For nearly five decades, Americans have been mesmerized by the government’s declarations of “war” on crime, drugs, and -- more recently -- terror. In the name of these perpetual struggles, apathetic citizens have acquiesced in countless assaults on their liberties. Think warrantless wiretapping, the Patriot Act, and the use of a drone to execute an (admittedly deplorable) American citizen without due process. The First, Fourth, and Fifth Amendments -- who needs them anyway? None of these onslaughts against the supposedly sacred Bill of Rights have ended terror attacks, prevented a raging opioid epidemic, staunched Chicago’s record murder rate, or thwarted America’s ubiquitous mass shootings, of which the Las Vegas tragedy is only the latest and most horrific example. The wars on drugs, crime, and terror -- they’re all unwinnable and tear at the core of American society. In our apathy, we are all complicit.

Like so much else in our contemporary politics, Americans divide, like clockwork, into opposing camps over police brutality, foreign wars, and America’s original sin: racism. All too often in these debates, arguments aren’t rational but emotional as people feel their way to intractable opinions. It’s become a cultural matter, transcending traditional policy debates. Want to start a sure argument with your dad? Bring up police brutality. I promise you it’s foolproof.

So here’s a final link between our endless war on terror and rising militarization on what is no longer called “the home front”: there’s a striking overlap between those who instinctively give the increasingly militarized police of that homeland the benefit of the doubt and those who viscerally support our wars across the Greater Middle East and Africa.

It may be something of a cliché that distant wars have a way of coming home, but that doesn’t make it any less true. Policing today is being Baghdadified in the United States. Over the last 40 years, as Washington struggled to maintain its global military influence, the nation’s domestic police have progressively shifted to military-style patrol, search, and surveillance tactics, while measuringsuccess through statistical models familiar to any Pentagon staff officer.

Please understand this: for me when it comes to the police, it’s nothing personal. A couple of my uncles were New York City cops. Nearly half my family has served or still serves in the New York Fire Department. I’m from blue-collar, civil service stock. Good guys, all. But experience tells me that they aren’t likely to see the connections I’m making between what’s happening here and what’s been happening in our distant war zones or agree with my conclusions about them. In a similar fashion, few of my peers in the military officer corps are likely to agree, or even recognize, the parallels I’ve drawn.

Of course, these days when you talk about the military and the police, you’re often talking about the very same people, since veterans from our wars are now making their way into police forces across the country, especially the highly militarized SWAT teams proliferating nationwide that use the sorts of smash-and-search tactics perfected abroad in recent years. While less than 6% of Americans are vets, some 19% of law-enforcement personnel have served in the U.S. military. In many ways it’s a natural fit, as former soldiers seamlessly slide into police life and pick up the very weaponry they once used in Afghanistan, Iraq, or elsewhere.

The widespread perpetuation of uneven policing and criminal (in)justice can be empirically shown. Consider the numerous critical Justice Department investigations of major American cities. But what concerns me in all of this is a simple enough question: What happens to the republic when the militarism that is part and parcel of our now more or less permanent state of war abroad takes over ever more of the prevailing culture of policing at home?

And here’s the inconvenient truth: despite numerous instances of brutality and murder perpetrated by the U.S. military personnel overseas -- think Haditha(the infamous retaliatory massacre of Iraqi civilians by U.S. Marines), Panjwai(where a U.S. Army Sergeant left his base and methodically executed nearby Afghan villagers), and of course Abu Ghraib -- in my experience, our army is often stricter about interactions with foreign civilians than many local American police forces are when it comes to communities of color. After all, if one of mymen strangled an Iraqi to death for breaking a minor civil law (as happened to Eric Garner), you can bet that the soldier, his sergeant, and I would have been disciplined, even if, as is so often the case, such accountability never reached the senior-officer level.

Ultimately, the irony is this: poor Eric Garner -- at least if he had run into my platoon -- would have been safer in Baghdad than on that street corner in New York. Either way, he and so many others should perhaps count as domestic casualties of my generation’s forever war.

What’s global is local. And vice versa. American society is embracing its inner empire. Eventually, its long reach may come for us all.

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notoriousjae · 6 years

Text

72 Rules of Cat Grant || Supercat || Chapter 2

Title: 72 Rules of Cat Grant

Pairing: Kara Danvers/Cat Grant

Rating: M

Chapter Description:

“I just…” Eyes close and her skin practically vibrates when Cat steps closer. “Felt like there was more I could do.” Is what Kara settles on, focusing on the way the sun glistens off of the windows as it disappears behind the horizon instead of the way the glass reflects something dark in Cat’s eyes. Something Kara can relate to.

It doesn’t take xray vision to see underneath the makeup flawlessly covering dark circles underneath Cat’s eyes--Kara’s spent two years helping her boss check it with no mirrors available--and when she turns around, her fingers itch to gently brush along the line of it, taking cream away with them. Cat still isn't sleeping.

Survivor’s guilt.

Note: I’m catching up to what’s posted on AO3.

Chapter 1: AO3 Link | FF.Net Link | Tumblr

Chapter 2 (Current): A03 Link | FF.net Link | Below:

Rule #34. A lesson from Cat Grant: Never let attraction stand in the way of your career. And never let someone’s attraction to you be the reason for it.

“Kiera!” It’s supposed to be shrill, cutting through the office, but by the time it reaches the short distance to Kara’s ears across an empty mausoleum of CatCo desks, it sounds exhausted and frustrated. An assistant appears at the hark call a moment later, practically materializing in front of a bent Cat Grant who's hunched over a desk made of cascading paper, watching fingers press at the gates of temples to keep a migraine at bay. “I’m firing Liam at exactly 9:07 tomorrow morning.”

Kara stretches out a handful of aspirin, lips parting--

“No, I’m firing him.” Cat raises up both hands, a huff expelling from flaring nostrils, “I do not care if he’s an intern and unpaid, this level of gross idiocy is something I expect to come from the writing staff of Huffington Post. Do Millenials just not check their sources, or is it some kind of mental blight passed down from my drug-induced generation?”

It takes a couple of seconds of silence before Kara blinks, “Oh, that’s...an actual question. That you’re asking me. I...” She fiddles with her glasses, “I don’t think it’s generational, Ms. Grant. I think he just…”

“Was reckless.” Cat supplies. “Idiotic? Desperate to see his name on a bi-line?” Kara looks a little guilty at the fact that she nods, at all, answering the question regardless of the clench of her chest. “I understand that thirst, but there’s no place for him here. Which is why,” Fingers take the medicine with a pleased hum, knocking them back like shots, “I’m firing him. Unfortunately for you, you’re going to be stuck digging through those books to cite his sources for him.”

“Oh, I’m already finished.” Kara moves over to her desk, picking up the carefully-cited notes below her, coming forward to gingerly set it on an endless white plane with a nervous smile, “I made sure to properly cite them, as well, and took the liberty of editing the article to reflect them prior to publication. Since I was...already there. In the article.”

Skeptical eyes greet her, sliding on a pair of glasses to look down at the pages of notes, a blank page falling down with them. There's no ink, but indentations might be visible underneath city lights. Kara’s wince must be noticeable because Cat suddenly looks far more interested in the small tree-sliver of white--eyes flicking between both subjects before settling--turning it in her hands.

“That’s just...a page to test my pen.”

A thoughtful hum, handing it back up as she continues reading. “Well let’s not single-handedly destroy the rainforests. That’s capitalism’s job. Keep it to one page. You did all of this? In an hour.”

“I’m…” Kara shifts, “A fast reader.” That’s certainly true, but ever since Non’s release she’s been anxious to stay at CatCo for too long, the fear of her uncle a constant presence in the back of her mind. Of Non finding her friends--of finding Cat. The building is nearly abandoned, now--it usually is by the time Cat leaves--but she still can’t help the uneasiness at the back of her throat. She still hovers close--she’s been flying between Winn and James and Cat like some sort of stuck, stalker-ish circus every night--but she shouldn’t be here. Not like this. Not this late.

“A fast reader.” It’s a trademarked drawl--Cat has actually patented its execution, Kara knows because she had to figure out how to file that in their filing cabinet--skeptical and unmoving, dark eyes following fidgeting movements over the rim of glasses and Kara clears her throat. Again.

“I just...I love reading. Love it.” And it’s not a lie.

If there was one place to understand Earth’s (occasionally very-strange customs) it was the media. Movies. Shows. Scripted events of superfluous fantasy that categorized humanity’s desire with flash, razzmatazz, and a whole lot of explosions. But books were Kara’s favorite form of expedition into the eyes of humanity. “I would spend day after day propped up on my foster parent’s roof, reading. So...this was nothing.”

“All day? You didn’t go to school?” It’s a sarcastic question, but one Kara doesn’t catch until she’s already answered:

“Well, I didn’t...for a while. When I first came to th...eir house. There was a difficulty locating my papers from the...fire. I guess.” Kara shakes her head. It had taken Jeremiah a month to forge the necessary documents to keep her in the U.S and she had spent all of that time learning as much as she could to fit in. “I was too young to wrap my head around everything. Jeremiah--my foster father--he...let me read as long as I wanted. He would read with me, sometimes.” Books from cover to cover during the days--strange television shows about love and murder and mayhem in the evenings, and huddling underneath a blanket with a flashlight with Alex at night, practicing her English. Being able to read as fast as she could helped her make short work of Jeremiah’s study and, eventually, they had to get her a library card.

Learning how to read that fast without setting the pages on fire was her biggest challenge.

She read the entire library in two months. The two hundred and fifty-two pages Cat had left to her discretion didn’t take much time, at all. Normally, she has a rule about relying on her powers at work--a personal one--but these days….

A humming form leans back in an acquiescing chair. Cat's chair doesn't creak--it bends to her every will like a servant to a queen. “Interesting.” What’s surprising is that she says it in a way that isn’t sarcastic, fingers tapping at a pen. There’s nothing Cat Grant can’t do gracefully, and that apparently includes bending underneath her desk and tugging up a banker’s box full to the brim of paperwork, dropping the contents uneventfully on her desk, slinking back over to the drink counter a moment later. The long drink of water to swallow down dissolving pills doesn’t hide a smirk that Kara doesn’t need x-ray vision to see.

“And…” A sigh that she tries not to let reach her features, dutifully uncapping the top of the box when realization sets in, “Means more work for me, doesn’t it?”

“Bingo.” Ice cubes clink into the glass and Cat’s eyes are far too bright to not be enjoying this, leaning back against the bar as she watches her assistant move, “You can work right there. I’ll need to supervise you for...legal reasons.”

“Legal reasons?” Kara picks up a picture of a crime scene, eyebrows quirking. It should be something that makes someone squint or pull back, but her features just crumble in silent resolution--someone in this city she hadn’t saved--realizing which case this is from, two years ago, without vocalizing it. “I...really don’t want to know, do I?” Cat’s smile tempers itself into something curious and quiet.

“Nothing so dangerous that will have that FBI--isn't it? She wears so much black it must be FBI--sister of yours banging down the door. Just files that Livewire’s last...visit fried on our second server. These need to be categorized, read, and cross-checked for accuracy. This won’t be the first time one of the interns other than Liam tried to sneak something invalid through our system, and we need to safeguard any sources we have on file to keep our practices as reputable as possible.” Cat steps forward, gingerly taking the crime scene photo from Kara’s hands and setting it on the desk, “Go ahead. Chop-chop.”

Kara sighs, fingers curling around the box, lips parting, tired gears scraping metal against metal as she tries to think of anything--

“Unless there’s somewhere else you need to be?” The tone is sing-song at the ends--almost a challenge--and Kara squares her shoulders, closing her mouth.

“No, Ms. Grant.”

Unfortunately for the both of them, it’s a little hard to clandestinely speed-read in front of ever-knowing eyes and this stack takes significantly less time, though Cat does pat her shoulder in something close to praise when she finishes. But it’s the words that follow after--

Good job. Go home.

--that make Kara blink. And blink. And blink some more until the silence seems to make Cat’s fingers itch, rolling her eyes.

“Oh, please, Kiera let’s not do the whole...girl-talk thing. Yes, I complimented you, it’s something adults do when they’re impressed with another’s work. Please by no means let it stop you from actually being productive. If your head gets any bigger it might float out of the window on its own like that house in Up. It's just admin work.”

The remark does nothing to temper Kara’s spreading smile and Cat--who might actually seem ruffled--waves recently closed glasses in gesture as she stands, frames slim. “Thank you, Ms. Grant.”

“No, thank you. I’m aware it’s nearly midnight.” A sigh, “The news never sleeps. Something I can only hope Carter understands, someday without that contemptuous little loathing heart we all seem to develop for our parents, eventually.” The reflection--almost admittance--seems to make the mother quieter as she gathers her things and Kara dutifully grabs an elegant coat at the other end of the office when Cat says something else altogether, voice barely a dance above the hum of the desk-light still humming on the corner of finished papers. “Sentimental outbreaks are like liquorice; when first you suck it, it’s not bad, but afterwards it leaves a very nasty taste in the mouth.” Quieter, almost grumbling as she drones, “And I am a very superfluous man.”

“You’re nothing like Ivan Turgenev.” Kara argues, far louder as she crosses the office to offer the open arms of a jacket, smile kind and still far too wide. The glasses unfold in Cat’s palm once more and she watches them slide onto the bridge of a nose like Alex slides on Kryptonite armor, lately, fingers tenting on a lap as her boss once more sits in her chair, not taking the offered coat. Cat Grant searches her face for an answer Kara bows her head to give it, “Or the...Superfluous man. The quote you just said.”

It’s deja vu from hours ago as Cat leans further back in her chair, fingers skimming along the curved edge of her chair like she’s trying to find the last three words, jumbled and lost, for a word puzzle. It isn’t until Kara realizes that Cat had barely whispered the earlier sentence--barely broken the air with her tongue and breath--that she understands that Kara isn’t a lost, jumbled word puzzle, but an enigmatic one for her employer. Like a word on the edge of a tongue that no one can ever seem to recall when they need it and Kara clears her throat, mentally willing her heart to slow its rapid gallop, eyes flicking downwards to make sure a crest isn’t visible in the dim light of the office.

A breath when she realizes it isn’t. This is just her, here, right now. No Supergirl.

“As a man is living he is not conscious of his own life; it becomes audible to him, like a sound, after the lapse of time.” Kara quotes, nervously watching the way Cat’s eyes barely widen, shrugging her shoulders, gently admitting, not running from the caught action: “I told you, I loved reading. That might be all of us. But I...don’t think you’re the superfluous man. I mean, ‘That’s what children are for?’ ” She asks, quoting, familiarity curving her smile: “‘That their parents may not be bored?’ Come on, Cat. Not you. You’re not the superfluous man.” Another moment, nose wrinkling as she adds, a faint hint of distaste curling on her tongue: “Your mother might be.”

She has never heard Cat Grant--eyes widening in a hint of surprise that her assistant probably said something negative about anyone at all--laugh so hard, the noise warm as it bounces off of white walls.

Kara vows to make it happen more often, fingers warm as the woman finally stands, hands brushing shoulders as a coat finds its way home. Alien fingers fold a wrinkled page of white as she follows the click of heels like one might follow the stars to Rao, guidance needed when everything else in her life, right now, feels uncertain.

“Goodnight, Kara.” Cat murmurs, wind brushing through her hair, eyes flicking downwards as fingers slide a white page in a pocket. “I’m sure I’ll see you in the morning.” A car she’d called before they went down the elevator pulls up like well-paid clockwork and when Cat turns around Kara makes sure all that’s there to greet dark eyes will be an empty street, gone before Kara can even hope she’ll offer.

(Offer what...that’s just another question she’s not sure she has time to answer.)

The confident form of blue and red hovers out of sight until the car makes its way home--it’s been the town home since livewire, a little further outside of city’s limits--skin crawling at the expectation of her uncle’s eyes on the horizon. She watches Cat stoop down outside of her door, plucking up a package before she makes her way inside.

In the dim light of the city Supergirl sets down on a rooftop miles away from the woman that named her, thumbs flipping through an old book as she watches the light for Carter’s room flicker on and, eventually, pitch black engulf it. A faint light from a bedside table lights up Cat’s form for only a few minutes, stilling by the window like she might catch sight of someone far away before she settles at bed, flipping through a book of her own.

Maybe it’s silly, sitting here amidst a sea of open windows and lights, reading through a book she’s read through hundreds of times with her sister over the years--though they don’t have a habit of reading to each other, the older they get, lost to time like most things between siblings--because even in the middle of a city she’s sworn to save when the time comes...she feels like she’s running out of people to protect.

Cat falls asleep like that, book draped open on her lap half of a city away, and Kara settles down, for a minute, chin tipping backwards to trace constellations with her thumbs. To find the way home. Her sister is lifetimes away and blue eyes scan the sky--is Astra’s journey gentle? Quiet amidst the rocky ocean of stars above?--and she’ll only stay here for a little longer before she checks on her friends, as well.

Lucy will be her last stop at the DEO, inevitably handing her a cup of coffee with sunken eyes like coffee has an effect on either one of them.

It’s not until she’s certain that Non won’t find a knife to her heart here that Kara Zor-El stands, moon highlighting the lines of a symbol on her chest. Maybe she can’t protect her family--Alex; Jeremiah; Astra--

“Goodnight, Ms. Grant.”

But this city? She’ll protect them all, her cursed family be damned.

Rule #35. Keep all documentation of CatCo’s files on a third separate server. (If any issues, have Winn work his magic).

She doesn’t protect them all.

She loses another one and keeps a picture tucked in her chest like she keeps of all the others in her mind--a dying father stretching a trembling hand up to a powerless woman for help to stop the bleeding; a flash of green highlighting the face of her mother and aunt; a dying planet; all of the people that bizarro watched fall around them like ash.

Ethan Knox.

But this is an actual picture, crumpled at the edges, arm slung around a smiling, alive, happy young girl with the world in front of her. She keeps a picture of Kelly in the edge of her suit because this isn’t a shortcoming or a lost soul. This is a choice Kara’s made, selfish and true, two people saved for the price of one, a Kryptonian playing God like only shadows can when Light is supposed to guide them.

She doesn't feel light, anymore.

She watches Kelly fall on repeat everytime she closes her eyes and knows she’ll get less sleep the more her life goes on, conscience weighing down her shoulders far more than a crest ever could. The city is saved by hope--Cat Grant believes in her as firmly as Alex and Eliza do--but Kara finds herself lost without it as she sits on the edge of CatCo, watching the people slowly mull about the city like how Rao must watch the stars. She imagines what Kal-El might say if he was here, firm jaw and kind eyes. Like his father's.

"It doesn't get easier." She imagines, every bit the boy she didn't abandon and the man he became--imagines she squeezes his shoulder, proud and admiring, blue grateful despite the redness of her nose and the water lining the edges of her eyes. "It's important to remember the people we save, too. They're both choices, Kara."

“Choices we have to live with.” Her breath quakes against the silent air, no one there to meet her. She'd like to tell him how she thought all of this would be different--how she might be different.

"You saved me." He'd point out, if he was here.

But he's not. She's alone, here, and she hasn't fully saved him, yet, feet hanging over the edge of the roof she's come to call home. What would Cat say? Probably something just as inspirational, eyes unmoving and voice lilting at the edges:

"You'll save everyone you can, as long as you don't forget." Kara tries, but it falls a little hollow--a little flat--fingers tugging her cape into her lap like a pillow, thumbs brushing along the line of it until she finally decides it's time to comfort the real source of the voice that never quite leaves her spine. She descends the rest of the small way from the roof to a familiar balcony, touching down to see a huddled form on a couch. Kara never said goodbye, tonight, but she’s sure that’s the last thing on Cat’s mind when they're both left with a desk that will never be full, again.

Sometimes Cat will fall asleep in this very spot and Kara will gently tuck a blanket on her shoulders and habit must push her steps, because cool fingers that haven't felt cold for years are pulling up a blanket before she can think better of it, watching the way the city dances shadows along familiar cheeks.

Tear tracks Cat will never confide in her are clear, fingers curled around a picture of her own, but this picture isn't of Kelly--it's of Carter, hair mussed and smile bright in his school uniform. It's in moments like this that she's reminded that the tears that clog her own throat aren't nearly as important as the people she leaves behind.

Kara kneels, fingers gently curving Cat’s hand closed before the picture can fall to the ground, the sleeping form shifting--grumbling--lost and disoriented, for a moment--

“Kara…?” Dark eyes blink again, adjusting to the dark of the office to see what might be another face in front of her, tired and solemn--sympathetic. Supergirl, who's saved a city, tonight, but still feels the weight of the world in dirt underneath her fingertips.

“I’m afraid not, Ms. Grant.” She whispers, effortlessly tucking the sagging form up in her arms, lifting her.

“Oh. You.” But Cat doesn’t shift out of the firm embrace, arms wrapping around a neck, “Is there a reason you’re--are you kidnapping me?”

“I’m taking you home.” Kara moves out to the balcony, “It’s the least I can do, after what you did for me, tonight.”

Only one picture is tucked in her suit, not half of the city, and that’s why she tells herself that she’s here and not scouring every inch of the city for Non. Not because she’s scared--petrified--or lost, but because of the truth: she does owe Cat this.

“The least you could do is give me your number.” Cat supplies underneath the high winds, breath warm against Kara’s ear. It’s the first warmth she’s felt as strongly as the sun in a long time and a quiet laugh breaks between them as she sets down her boss on a stoop she shouldn’t recognize, not as Supergirl.

“Not happening.” Kara tosses over her shoulder, ignoring the dark circles under both of their eyes as she stretches up her arms.

“Or how you knew I lived here!” Cat yells after her, weary body sagging despite appearances, but Kara doesn’t answer, heading back towards the DEO with a goal in mind.

Rule #36. CatCo never sleeps. Neither does Cat Grant. (2 hours, she claims. Fly by and bring blankets for the days when she falls asleep on her couch).

Rule #37. Do not let Cat Grant shut herself off from the world or her family. ( She’ll do it if she has the chance )

“Adam...called me, today.” Kara shifts the glasses on her nose, “And if you think it was awkward, trust me it was way more awkward for me.” Murmuring to herself: “By a lizrhom.” Like it usually has before they could ever talk like this, the sun has set and Kara’s breath is heavy in her chest. They’re still no close to locating Non--to locating this new...web-based threat--but she finds herself back here, jaw set and eyes concerned.

The dark circles haven’t left Cat’s eyes since Myriad and Kara knows she’s lucky that it’s impossible for her to have them, because it’s with sympathy that she’s confronting an indomitable Cat Grant, at all. But the lack of circles hasn’t stopped Kara, either--she’s looked like a wreck all week, something Cat, with lingering, almost hesitant eyes like she might be contagious, has had no problem informing her time and time again--and now is no different.

“Kiera, if you don’t remember what happened last time you took it upon yourself to waltz in here with liberties you shouldn't be taking regarding my son--”

“He’s worried about you.” Kara immediately interjects, fingers twining by her lap. “And...frankly, so…” She straightens her shoulders--chin tilting up to meet an even gaze. “Am I, Ms. Grant. And before you say it isn’t my place,” Kara raises both of her hands, rushing forward at the opportunity before her boss decides to toss her out of the office. Or out of the window. (Maybe she can fly, but she doesn’t like being thrown off the top of buildings). “I spend a lot of my time watching you. It’s in my job description. Literally, on my job description in my employee handbook, one of the key duties was to--”

“I know what your job responsibilities are, Kiera. I wrote them. This does not fall in line with--”

With some form of deathwish--maybe Maxwell Lord is right--Kara cuts her off again, coming closer at the slit of eyes, “Don’t fire me, but I just...I’m just worried about you, okay? You haven’t been sleeping. Your makeup is...seriously flawless,” A hint of a laugh, “But I can tell you're not sleeping. And I just...I thought that maybe if I could help ease some of the workload on your desk, you could go home a little early and--”

“Excuse me?”

“Cat,” Kara breathes, coming closer, chest tightening in a warning she doesn’t head. They’re close--closer than she remembers being and she’s unsure how they got here, tongue darting over parched lips, “I know. How much this is affecting you and I’m just...please tell me if I’m over-stepping, but I just...want to be there for you.”

“Don’t.” Cat’s voice is harsh--warning--hand coming up between them, “Do not start something like this out of desperation or misdirection, Kara.”

“What? I don’t--” Kara’s brows knit and it’s only then that she realizes how the distance she’s crossed between them could be perceived--how she can feel Cat’s breath against her chin and smell her perfume--and embarrassment covers the righteous indignation in her chest. “You thought I was--I wasn’t going to--” It’s sputtered because she can’t deny the urge. “I’m not trying to--”

Because Kara wants to kiss her. It’s a strangling, burning urge in her chest that curls her fingers and leaves her breathless, in moments like this. She wants to push her hands through Cat’s hair and tilt her chin and kiss her until neither of them can think anything, at all, anymore. For once, Kara wants to escape, to run, because she sees somewhere she wants to run to. She’s tired of the dark circles and the constant hunt and fear in her chest. She's tired, period.

She wants to help--she only ever wants to help--

“Please, Kiera, I can see the look in your eye. I understand underhanded tactics and I’m learning to see them coming from you.” Cat’s hands are on her hips and the hurt stings--physically aches--blinking as she recoils. Blinks. Steps backwards with raised hands like she’s twelve and accidentally snapped the back of a kitten she tried to save, stranded, in a sewer, before she understood she didn’t belong here, at all.

Not without rules.

“You thought I was going to--” A breath, straightening, not bothering to hide the astonishment from her voice, “I would never…” But Cat’s eyes are level--even--and she understands in this moment that she’s ruined something between them, these past few months. Something that a couple of quotes from a book can’t fix. “Adam just asked me to talk to you because he thought you were pushing him away. He...he asked me as a friend. Cat, I’m not using your son to start an affair with you. And I--can’t believe I just had to actually say that out loud.” Her jaw barely trembles as it sets, “You really think I would--”

“No, it seems like you are.” Cat dismisses, eyes slitting, but there’s something there, in her gaze. Above the hidden dark circles and fire: “You were getting far too close for comfort, Kiera. We’re not friends, let alone lovers, and from this point forward, you’re going to keep your opinions about my family to yourself.”

Kara searches her eyes, “Of course we’re not...lovers.” That much is obvious. It’s stuttered and lost, “But I thought we were friends.” A little stronger, “We are friends. And I would never take advantage of you like that.” Firmer, “I wasn’t going to kiss you. I--” Kara steps forward, trying to get through, a powerless hand stretching towards a gun, city in chaos all around them.

But Cat just fires, anyways.

“I think you should go.” She turns around--closes off--and Kara nods, face contorting as she turns on her heel.

She pauses by the door. “I just...I was just trying to make things right before I…”

She’s not one for being melodramatic or anything but optimistic so she sucks in a shuttering breath, smile slim, eyes settled on tight shoulders as Cat watches the screen, Supergirl flying above them.

“Not everything is your place to fix.” It’s a snap--exhausted and cool--and Kara sucks in a breath at it, blinking.

But Cat’s right. It’s not.

“I’m sorry for...overstepping, Ms. Grant. I hope…” Another breath, “Goodnight.” It's short work to turn on her heel, blinking back moisture as she forgoes the elevators, slamming open the stairwell and rushing upward.

She misses Cat standing, letting out a quiet curse before she slams an office drawer shut and follows after her.

Kara doesn’t even make it to the roof before it hits her, rushing into an office that used to hold private meetings and laughter, dust settling a fine layer over desks and Winn’s electronic gizmos and gadgets (and what’s’it’s galore, as Kara likes to sing everytime he talks about them).

“Hey, Kara? I thought I saw I you coming up here, I’m about to--” It’s Winn who finds her, palm flatting on a door that creeks open, face softening at the sight. A thumb is jerked mid-air, pausing mid-whistle when he finally sees her. A hand is clutching at her chest, desperately trying to push away the panic, fingers clenching so tightly around a picture it might disintegrate. “Woah...Kara.” His voice is barely a breath, arm hesitantly sliding around shoulders before he pulls her towards him and she has to resist the urge to crumple, fingers protective.

It’s a broken sob--something that quivers and quakes in her throat and steals all of the air from her lungs--and she can’t hold it back, anymore.

“Hey--” Winn looks just as awkward as he always had, but he’s here--always here--arms immediately tugging her forward into a hug, the sob breaking against his neck as he holds her. A rule ingrained in the back of her mind keeps her from holding too tight--from tangling fingers in his skin and breaking him--and she misses the way Kal-El’s arms can wrap around her in moments like this, feeling young and small. Even without being able to truly hold her, she misses Alex, who always knows the perfect thing to say. Who doesn't make her feel guilty just from--

“I don--” It’s a breath, barely English, “I don’t want you to feel guilty.” It’s a breath, but the weight of it is suffocating as she admits, because there’s no lying about it, now--not to Winn, “I couldn’t...I couldn’t talk to you and James, because--”

“Hey, Supergirl.” Winn whispers by her ear, hand smoothing down her back, “We’re your pit crew, remember? You have to let us take care of you sometimes, too. Because you didn’t want us to feel guilty? About...” He lets out an awkward breath, "About Kelly."

“I couldn’t save her.” It’s a gasp, fingers curling in his shirt tight enough it rips, but Winn doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t say anything at all. Just holds her even when she hears his heart beat skip--can hear his breath shallow--can hear the tears at the base of his throat because he must think it’s his fault, as well. “Kelly didn’t--she didn’t deserve--”

Survivor’s guilt is a concept she knows all too well.

But she doesn’t stop crying, either. She wouldn’t be able to, even if she tried.

“I’m so s-sorry.” It breaks and breaks and breaks, “I couldn’t--I just couldn’t--”

She can hear Cat’s footsteps outside the hall--can hear her pause like she’s heard an offensive buzzing in her office, intent on stopping it--but the sight must give her pause, the door splayed open and Kara--

Cat's breathless and Kara wonders if it's from a misguided rage towards her.

It’s Rule #1. It’s sacrilege, even if it’s tucked away in an office no one checks--even if there’s no reason why Cat should be here, at all--and Kara immediately moves to pull away from a sputtering Winn. Because she knows Cat’s seen her, heard the way the tears suffocate her throat, and Alex might as well be in her earpiece begging her to stumble to a stand in the middle of a fight because that’s what she does. That’s what Kara always has to do.

Supergirl. Cat was right, there are some things that aren’t her place to fix--offloading this burden on Winn’s shoulders is one of them.

“Kara, it’s not your fault. Kelly--”

She straightens her blouse and wobbles into heels and wipes hands underneath her eyes, trying to clear her throat.

“You can’t blame yourself for--”

She lifts her jaw and walks to the edge of the office, turning to face her boss, Winn clamoring behind her but freezing a few steps behind when he sees what must have caught his best friend’s attention.

There’s Cat Grant, leaning against the edge of a doorway with an unreadable look on her face, eyes searching features of her assistant’s face like she’s trying to encapture her existence in a headline. Glasses hang limply by the leg between two fingers but Cat doesn’t twirl them--doesn’t gesture--just meets her gaze and doesn’t move.

Cat followed her.

The thought is enough to strangle the last hope of breath in Kara's chest.

“Did you need anything, Ms. Grant?” Her voice rasps--hollow even to her own ears--and for once, if Cat’s noticed that she’s been crying, she doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t point out the dark circles or the sagging cheeks--the unkempt hair or wrinkled blouse--at least not now. Not in this moment.

She pushes off the doorway, a breath from Kara’s nose, and answers, voice measured, calm, and quiet, after a moment has passed between them, the question hanging in the air. “Go home.” The dismissal is followed by a shake of the head, “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Another moment passes and it takes more than it should for Kara to keep her composure, but her eyebrows crinkle and her face crumples and her breath quivers and she has to look away for another moment, eyes wrenching shut. “Thank you.” Is all she breathes before she leaves a wide-eyed Winn, shirt wet, crumpled, and ripped at the seams, and an unusually quiet Cat Grant, who watches her until the elevator doors close.

It’s not until Kara’s three floors down that she hears Cat turn around, the muffled insistence of:

“You too, computer-gnome.” She starts walking away, then, probably calling over her shoulder but the sound of it is different without that tell-tale quirk of her lips and Kara wishes there were lead glasses for ears, because she wishes she never knew the difference in Cat’s voice, at all, in this moment: “You both look like shit.”

It’s not until days later, Non’s presence looming over her--another world hanging on the balance on the quaking balance of her breath--the office slowly filtering out on a Friday, unassuming and soon empty, that Cat mentions anything, at all.

Heels click behind her on the balcony and Kara pulls away--tries to acknowledge her with a fumble of adjusted glasses and a slim smile--but Cat just raises her hand, voice surprising in its gentleness.

“I didn’t realize you and Kelly were friends.” It’s cold outside and Kara can see the goosebumps rise up her shoulders. “Well, you’re friends with everyone in the building.” Cat corrects and she can just hear the flippant eye roll, but something far gentler follows, “But I didn’t realize…”

Survivor’s guilt.

“I should have been there for her.”

“And where were you, Kara?” Cat asks, stepping closer. The journalist in her, undoubtedly, always sniffing--always curious--and Kara isn’t sure if she’s tired of it or finds familiarity in it. Fondness curls up the back of her throat and fingers fidget with her glasses, breath heavy in her chest.

“Not there for her.” She repeats, a slim grimace tucks up lips, chin ducking.

“There was nothing you could have done even if you were.” A hip rests against the balcony, arm sliding against an assistant’s, their eyes meeting. “And even if there was, Kara.” Fingers skim upwards, curling around the north face of a shoulder like a rock climber intending on ascending up to the look in Kara’s eyes.

Even for a woman without superpowers, Kara is certain Cat could scale the mountain of her shoulders in a single bound.

“You have to accept your choices.”

“I do.” Kara admits, leaning into the touch, “I never forget them.” She leans forward so that she can see Cat clearly through the glare of her glasses--can feel the way her breath hitches against her chin, though the distance between them isn’t a mountain that’s climbed. It might never be charted. Boldly acknowledging, “I don’t think you do either, Cat. I know you don’t.”

“True.” It’s a hum and, surprisingly, Cat’s head falls to her shoulder, instead, fingers falling down to cross over her chest, warding off what's quickly becoming night air, turning around to watch the city with her. Without a word, Kara shrugs off a cardigan--thin but likely better than no armor against the cool wind, at all--wrapping it around slim shoulders. “I can’t have my assistant freezing on my account.” The protest isn’t weak--nothing Cat does ever is, is it?--but there’s no true fight in it and for the first time in weeks Kara lets a small, breathless laugh slip past her lips.

“No, it’s okay.” Her arms wrap around shoulders, eyes closing as she pulls Cat tighter--feels the way she slots against her chest--and filters out the sound of the city to focus on the soft beat of a heart, somehow settling in the knowledge that for this moment--right now--Cat won't push her away. “I’m okay.”

She hasn’t been cold in a decades.

There’s the faint sound--the hitch of Cat’s breath before it...settles, rhythm evening out into something quiet. Hairs on arms, covered by fingers and fabric, stand to attention, goosebumps raising ridges on the slim valleys below knuckles. But this time, Cat leans in closer, Kara’s nose thoughtlessly turning into her temple, listening to the building settle with no one else in it.

Instead of focusing on the city and the lights and all of the people in it, Kara focuses on one--on that one, gentle, consistent heartbeat--and the choice still weighs heavier in the back of her mind. She can still see Kelly’s body painting cement with prayers and hopelessness, but she can feel Cat’s fingers untangle from her shoulders to curl in the fabric of a sleeveless blouse, seeking out some small warmth she must find radiating from arms, and it’s...easier.

“Next time,” Cat doesn’t move, voice far gentler than it should be. Her lips turn towards Kara’s ear, breath dancing along a neck, and for the first time all night she feels a shiver up her spine. Breath dances against lips. “Don’t come out here alone.”

A flicker of a smile. She’s not Kal-El. She’s not naive, either, no matter what Alex says--and in the most selfish urge she’s ever had, she’ll hold onto this warmth as long as she can. Cat eases the knots in her chest with deft fingers and breathless lips. She makes it easier, and Kara refuses to believe that that’s the most dangerous thing, of all.

Instead, Kara hopes--maybe even chooses--to believe that she makes this easier for Cat, too.

She nods in quiet agreement, and when she turns back towards the city, she doesn’t mind seeing the reflection of Cat’s eyes in the windows, now--the sight of her arms snaking around a waist and Cat settling against her--and a quivering breath evens between them like a house finding its place at night. "If you'll join me?" Cat pats her hand in understanding, ear turning to lay above her heart, not answering the question as much as forging on.

“You were right.” Cat quietly concedes, “I was avoiding Adam. And Carter.”

“And me.” Kara murmurs but she can hear the smile in Cat’s voice:

“Don’t push it.” Cat hasn’t moved her hand, finger idly skimming along the line of a knuckle. “From the sounds of your internal war, I, the kettle, hardly want to get lectured by a pot when we’re both the same color as a little black dress.” The nail skims down and up, charting a course in a series of shivers up to Kara’s heart. It’s a sensation she won’t get used to, stomach full of lead, but soon becomes intoxicated by. “I’m sorry. About the other day. I knew you wouldn’t…” She trails off, “I know that wasn't your intent. She was my employee. I hired her. I watched it happen a few feet away and was...powerless.” It’s a heavy admission, Cat’s breath cracking along the edges despite her even tone in explanation. More of an explanation than Kara ever expected. Kara's fingers curl around biceps so that they don't wipe underneath haunted eyes.

“It wasn’t your fault, Cat.” The blame lies on her shoulders, as well. But maybe that’s more selfish than Kara ever realized, as well. “There was nothing you could have done.”

“I know.” Cat agrees, “But to feel powerless in protecting people I was charged to take care of…” A hum. “I didn’t want my sons to see the darkness that brought out.” A beat, “Or...you.” But Cat continues before Kara can comment on it, “The best thing we can ever do is move forward.”

“I am who I am today because of the choices I made yesterday.” Kara thoughtlessly murmurs, nose barely turning into a jaw as a plane passes overhead, miles away. “I guess I just...hope I’m making the right ones to be the person I want to be.”

A thoughtful hum greets her, “As long as you keep that in mind, then they’ll always be the best choices you could make in the moment. We can only ever learn from our choices, Kara. I don’t believe in failure. Only momentary setbacks and learning opportunities.” Another moment stretches, words sinking in as Kara’s hand slowly turns, memorizing the feeling of a nail tracing the rivers of her palm. The sun finally sets and when the world quiets Kara finds no small solace in it. “You know, I always preferred another quote by Eleanor Roosevelt.”

“Let me guess. Probably the one that was…” Kara’s chin tips a little up, a hint of humor breaking through the depths of her eyes, “What was it? ‘Work is always the best way to pull yourself out of the depths?’ That one?”

Cat’s laugh is faint, finger dipping up from a palm to slide between a gap, Kara gently catching it, “That a woman is like a teabag. You’ll never know how strong she is until you put her in hot water. Though that one's just as true.” The rest of their fingers twine, two black pots of boiling water in the cool night. A small smile is shared between them and Kara’s not sure how long they stand there--how long she holds Cat against her like it’s the most natural thing in the world--but it seems, for once, that time gives them a break. No newspaper emergencies. No sirens.

No plots to take over the world (for the moment).

None that Kara hears, anyways.

“Thank you,” Kara murmurs, voice thick and quiet underneath the sounds of the city. Underneath the weight of a set sun that will only rise in the morning. “For being here.” Her lips turn to breathe over an ear, sincere and gentle, "For letting me...be here. For you, too."

Cat squeezes her hand and even the Kryptonian isn’t sure she hears it, it’s so quiet, whispered against a bare neck.

“Anytime you need it, Kara.”

But Kara does hear it, lips barely parting over a temple, eyelashes fluttering closed, “You too, Catherine.”

Cat smiles and doesn’t pull away, both of them warm in the cool night air.

Days later, the last general of Fort Knox is left blinded on the ground, arm hitting the ground in a final symposium as his niece races against time to push the very thing threatening every one she loves, just as she’d feared for weeks.

But instead of fear, serenity finds what’s sure to be her last breaths, the realization of her choices taking full effect--Cat would be proud--fingers curling around the sound of her sister’s insistent voice as it fades into warmth, a small smile spreading along her lips.

She doesn’t feel her own pod push her towards the atmosphere or her body plummet through, caught by every news crew on the planet, cratering into the Earth with a resolute thud.

If she did, she’d probably recognize that it hurts.

Alex and Eliza don’t leave her small little apartment for weeks after, even when Kara makes it past crutches to a singular cast, leg propped up and cabin fever settling in her chest. She’s stocked up enough sick leave to take a large enough leave of absence--something Kara Danvers is legally eligible to take without losing her employment, thanks to the official story of her being hit by a piece of a ship as it left orbit. (Regular Kara Danvers is a particularly unlucky girl)--but it doesn’t stop her from calling Carter on Saturdays, Kara fighting to stay awake as Alex goes through theories and physics and...Science-things. It doesn't stop her from playing cards with Winn and James, who leans a little too close. It doesn't stop Kara from responding to emails from a very frantic replacement assistant, who is hoping to survive Kara's absence with their life.

And it doesn't stop her from calling her boss to wish her goodnight, even though she knows she shouldn't--even though she knows Cat's hand likely hesitates every time before she picks up the phone. Every night, Kara hobbles out to her fire escape to look out over the city, phone tucked in hand, ignoring the curious, teasing gazes Alex sends her way like clockwork.

Cat doesn’t visit--she has an empire to run--but Lucy delivers goodbyes with a small package tucked underneath her arm.

A signed copy of Diary of A Superfluous Man is tucked inside, an inscription on the front cover.

"Who's that from, sweetie?" Eliza asks, ever curious and as much of a bookworm as her husband once (and maybe still) is, Lucy giving Kara a knowing look even as Alex perks up, eyebrows raising around the edge of a kitchen as she pops the lid off of a beer.

"A friend." Kara murmurs, tucking the book in a safe spot by her bed, sun heating the skin of her shoulders in warmth. She calls Cat that night with a faint laugh on her lips, thanking her as fingers skim along raised, familiar script.

Only you would have the luck to be struck by a piece of a ship leaving the atmosphere that saved everyone else. It's a hint of irony at its finest.

Heal quickly--no one has you to protect them from being fired, anymore.

I'm certain the choices you made were the right ones, Kara.

-Cat.

It's all of the motivation she needs.

Rule #38. Keep it strictly professional.

Kara's been back for a month when it settles in her bones like that same feeling of contentment had, floating above the Earth with purpose and clarity in her veins.

She's as much of an expert as an alien can be on human culture, she thinks. Not as much of an expert as Kal-El, maybe, but close, so it surprises her when she discovers that things like this really can, just...happen. She thought it was an event that was relegated to movies or books or cheesy CW tv shows.

There’s no monumental change--no booming, orchestral music or long monologue. There’s no confession or drama-filled shouting match. No tears. No cheesy pick-up lines or heart-felt confessions. No real conversation, at all.

It’s eleven at night, Kara sifting through an endless mountain of applications at a small desk, when Cat moves to pass her, a goodnight on her lips. Kara stands out of habit to move to retrieve her coat and their shoulders brush--their fingers gently caress up the ridges of a palm--and something dark is there to greet her.

It tastes like static shock on her tongue when their eyes meet, breath heavy and office quiet enough for her to listen to the persistent kick of a drum in Cat’s chest. Kara remembers a faint warmth about the black mercy, too, right before she’d fallen underneath it, and she feels that same feeling in the heat of unassuming fingers. So she pulls away and wraps the coat around Cat’s shoulders, thumbs brushing along skin, and when elegant fingers reach up to tuck the wayward wisps of rebelling gold that have fallen out of a ponytail behind Kara’s ear--an intimate gesture that shouldn't be so intimate--Kara tells herself that she can’t--can’t--

And then it happens.

Kara leans back to move--to give Cat space and air--when hands cup the back of her neck and tug her down with the force of gravity itself and who's Kara's weak body of steel to not comply, beams of her neck melting underneath a molten fire, a gasp causing their mouths to meet in an open kiss.

An open kiss that doesn't end.

Cat tastes like fine bourbon and honey and smells like ink and perfume. Her fingers dance like electricity, supercharged life curling through the fraying fibers of an arching spine, Kara's arms immediately moving to twine around a waist--to pull Cat flush up against her, desk jostling in retaliation.

Stacks upon stacks of notebooks, blank pages littered with hastily scribbled notes should have prepared her for this. But memories of crushed bed posts from tripping at two in the morning on the way to the bathroom--several boyfriends with broken noses--Alex’s bent arm from a missed highfive when they were 13--Kal-el’s voice in her ear, fingers curling around a shoulder as he warns her that they’re dangerous as she sobs over a small, lifeless form broken underneath her fingertips--none of it deters the spreading warmth in her chest. Because in this moment she is something dangerous. It catches the breath in her throat and selfishly calls her to steal every ounce of Cat's in retaliation. Fingers ache to turn into boulders, but her fingertips curl around hips just tight enough to be vines. It churns and aches and the word is something that might be mispronounced on her tongue because she's only ever read it, never felt it in hot breaths and fingers tangling in her hair, tugging out a ponytail as Cat pins her against her desk. Her home for over two years.

Lust.

It's pure, sheer lust. Red curls up her throat husking a noise that breaks against Cat’s mouth. Lust.

A scattered breath sears from her nostrils, lungs desperate for air but a greedy mouth unwilling to compromise and when the kiss finally does break, it’s all Kara can do to think, let alone not break every rule she’s ever had.

“Cat…” The name rasps from her lungs like a prayer--a foreign sound in a language Kara couldn’t even try to understand--eyes dark as a nose brushes along the ridge of her cheek. As Cat brushes lips, imperceptibly softer, along the edge of her jaw, teeth scraping along with them. Their eyes meet again and for once she’s not surprised to see that same emotion--that same lust--shining back at her. Kara breathes her in like her lungs couldn’t possibly have enough room to fit her, and an owlish blink is the best attempt she has at straightening her thoughts. “We…” She trails off but doesn’t motion to pull away, tongue darting out over lips that still taste like the woman against her.

The same woman who lets out a simmering sigh, tossing a hairclip she’s stolen over her shoulder, the noise as it clatters ultimately forgotten in favor of memorizing the sound of Cat’s heartbeat raging in Kara’s ears. “Stop overthinking this, Kara.” It’s a request, not an order, but Kara doesn’t recognize the difference--won’t recognize the subtle difference when it comes to Cat Grant until several notebooks are filled thrice over--because Rule #11 notes that Cat will never ask, at all.

And who is Kara in this charade? Regular, ordinary, unassuming Kara Danvers--to deny anything from Cat Grant, tugging her closer and kissing her with every hint of extraordinary she was never supposed to be and everything she wishes she could, because for this moment...she longs for it. Longs for Cat.

Lusts for her in a way she never knew a Kryptonian could.

Before she truly understands what's happened, they're in a familiar office, eyes dark as she's pushed up against a bar--a nice sharp change from the desk--glasses rattling, the sound of marble cracking from the weight tickling the back of a fogged mind. Kara's fingers push off the jacket she’d just shielded a back with minutes--hours?--before, puddling along the floor as those same fingers quake from restraint, gently curving down shoulders that nails long to chart. Muscles flex from the effort to hold herself back from a consequence her mind hasn't quite caught up with, tongue smoothing a path along a lower lip.

A moan breaks the feverish pant of breaths between them, Kara's ears ringing, a flush of noises assaulting her senses, suddenly full of her. A tongue slides into her mouth and Kara's hands cup underneath clenching thighs--underneath Cat--and lift her up into something far familiar, arms wrapping fully around a waist, supporting her. Holding her up like they’re flying. Legs curl around her like a vine--like a squeezing anaconda--and before long, it's Cat's back that's pressed into the indentation that Kara's made. It's not the first crater she's made this year, and it likely won't be the last.

Cat, whose fingers slide underneath the hem of a thin shirt, nails raking along the fabric of a hidden suit that Kara has no time to hide and gives Cat no option of discovering, mouth trailing down from bruised lips to a neck, feeling the way a pulse flutters underneath a breathless kiss.

She can feel the way Cat's whole body curls up into her, shoulders arching off the wall when she pins her there, pulling back to breathe. To feel Cat's fingers brush their her hair, tugging her upwards like a magnet, nose brushing into glasses, jostling them as their mouths meet again.

But this kiss is impossibly softer--consuming--Kara’s hands slowly sliding up to anchor Cat against the wall, feeling teeth gently tug at a lower lip. A hum rumbles against her in hot breaths and white teeth and when Kara finally opens her eyes, dark and clouded, there's a pair to meet her, guiding them over to the couch and easing Cat onto it. It's overwhelming, how much Kara wants to paint light along her skin. What would Cat look like, a canvas spread out on a white couch, fingerbrushes for fingers dipped in paint trailing along her stomach?

Kara's lips part once more but familiar fingers raise, stemming the words. “Don't.” Cats voice husks, lower than she's ever heard it, silk that curls and tightens around a clenching stomach. Kara kisses the palm hovering in front of her--the finger pressed against her lips, memorizing the way Cat’s breath hitches like it's a Kryptonian prayer. It’s frightening how she feels like she’s gone from never imagining truly kissing her to never imagining how to stop. “Stop talking before whatever over-encompassing, bumbling--”

“Okay. We don't have to do the...talking. I'm bad.” A breath, trying to ease the pound of her heart. Something Cat must notice because her hand splays over her chest, somewhere over a still-hidden crest at the edge of a wild drum. “With the...talking.” Hands trail up from a waist--thighs and knees and calves--before trailing back down again, pausing at an abdomen, Cat reaching down to guide her the rest of the way, heat chasing the faintest sheen of sweat up a painting of skin, watching the fabric puddle around her wrists the higher they go.

“So don't talk.” Cat offers more than just herself on a white couch. “If you want me…” Further up and up until palms are cupping the underside of breasts and Kara feels red at the edges of her tongue. Of her eyes. “Take me.”

That same feeling of kryptonite curling her fingers. Something dark and deep. Desire and lust and--

And she could hurt Cat, right now. She could really, truly hurt her, in more ways than one.

Cat must see the conflict, fingers tugging her down, once more, breathing against her lips, curling around wrists and keeping her in place before a hero can scramble off of the couch, keeping the girl pressed here, instead. “Kara.”

That's all the argument she ever needs, pushing hands up to curl around breasts, thumbs brushing as Cat arches up into her.

It just happens, no precedent or fanfare, and with the memory of a breath moaning into her ear, arching hymns off of a white office couch, sweat coating the swell of a flattening tongue...even at her best, Kara will never be sorry that it does.

Notes:

**Kryptonian Translations**; Source

*Lizrhom* Definition: More. Many. In this case meaning "A thousand-times awkward yes"; Pronoun P: [li.ʒ͡rom] ; Kryptonian: liZRom

#supercat #supergirl #fic #fic: sc #fic: 72 rules #fic: 72 rules ch 2

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