Well I know nobody on here gives a fuck about Dutch politics, but to my fellow Dutch mutuals and stuff, good luck tonight. We're either going towards the most right wing government we've had in quite a while, or if we're incredibly lucky, still hoping for maybe the first left-wing prime minister in a long time as well.
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we should talk more about cities that are vampires. cities that are cold and wet and sink into your bones and stay there. cities that are hungry and want to live. dead cities that dont know they're dead and suck the life force of their people to maintain the delusion. cities with harbors that are actually mouths; one-way entries. cities that are devastatingly lonely and see consumption as love
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I get that calling white lotus lbh a sticky little 'sheep' is a canon translation and stuck in the fandom now anyway, but I do feel the intended spirit of the original word wasn't the sheeple/dumb herd animal that's more common in the western world, but instead something actually conveying sweetness, innocence, purity and youth - lamb.
Famous for being utterly adorable and following around their mothers, gambolling in sunny meadows, curly white wool shining.
And NOW we can talk about black sheep/wolf in sheep's clothing metaphors.
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When a true baby ghost is born— a ghost not born of dying, but rather through the desire of another ghost— they are little more than a core with wispy ectoplasm emanating from them for about a month. During said month, they take on influence from their surroundings in order to figure out the form they’ll take, hence why so many young ghosts look like their parents.
Because they aren’t fully formed until a month after their birth, the parent or parents will take on a far more aggressive, primal form in order to protect their child. The parent’s form will become incredibly monstrous, and their size will increase, with triple their normal size being most common among parents. Their mental state also becomes incredibly instinctual, higher intelligence temporarily being replaced by aggression towards anyone the ghost doesn’t consider family. They stay in this state until the baby is fully formed.
Of course, Danny “don’t worry about it” Phantom forgets to add this bit of trivia to his explanation to his fellow heroes as to why he was taking paternity leave. In his defense, he didn’t expect them to visit during that month.
And he definitely didn’t expect his brooding brain to latch onto most everyone who visited as “part of his brood.”
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it probably says something either sad or deeply unfortunate about me as a person, but I'm darkly amused to see some people react to the reveal of the ultimate permeability of souls in tlt as a triumphant thing -- the "you can't take 'loved' away!!!" side of it all -- when my first reaction was such an immediate wave of 'oh, oh so this is why this series is horror, I truly understand now' distress haha. ngl the final confirmation of the self not being inviolable in the deepest way freaks me the fuck out far more than any moment of body horror in the series has managed. (these two elements are of course the two sides of one thematic coin; it's about the horror of our bodies and minds and selves not being inviolable things, and about the effect of violence on them on so many different levels. violence psychological and interpersonal, physical, subtextually sexual, emotional, medical, political, a whole unlovely smörgåsbord of indignity and violation a person can be exposed to, and on a broader scale the spectrum of violence colonialism wields). The world and other people being capable of leaving indelible marks on us for good or ill through their presence in our lives is of course a pretty self-evident demonstrable truth in the real world, but somehow having it be proven metaphysically just uh. Fucks me up!
It also drives home to me just how perfectly Muir has captured the dilemma at the heart of human connection and intimacy: the fact that the thing that gives us life and meaning is also capable of harming us so deeply. the same thing that can be so beautiful — even in a bittersweet, violently transformative form like with the creation of Paul — when done mutually and consensually and compassionately, is the same process that means someone like John can touch someone else's soul and 'after he's put his fingers on something, you'll never find anyone else's fingerprints on it; too much noise'. I think the text itself — the whole series, because to me this is what it is ultimately about, this tension between individuation/self vs. love/connection/enmeshment — is far more ambivalent in its treatment of it than saying it’s inherently a good thing or inherently a bad thing. The only thing it says for sure is that it is always a thing, that thinking you’re ever getting away from it is the height of futility, and that through being alive (or even through being dead lol) it is something you have to engage with in some way no matter what. Contact with other people is deeply necessary — without it we sicken and die. it can be the most beautiful and meaningful thing in a human life, and the most unspeakably horrific. All of these people are searching for some way to be whole, whether in total self-contained sufficiency on their own or in melding with someone else as their ‘other half’, and stumbling around in the dark they reach for each other and score deep wounds into the thing they’re trying to touch even when they don’t mean to. Taken to horrific extremes with the form of lyctorhood John guided his disciples to when they were ‘children — playing in the reflections of stars in a pool of water, thinking it was space’, because while people hurt each other all the time with differing levels of intentionality behind it, what John did was deliberate. It weaponizes the misapprehension of what closeness must be and destroys everyone involved in the process… and all because it leaves John the one sun their ruined lives have left to orbit around, because that’s the closest thing his soul will allow to connection. He doesn’t understand that to truly touch something you have to truly let it touch you back, and then wonders why he’s never satisfied.
‘The horrors of love’ has been memed to death, I know, but… yeah. That is what it is, isn’t it.
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