X. Psalm 18: The Battle Belongs to God

Psalm 18 is a song about battle, deliverance, and praising God for overcoming our enemies. Our primary battle is let go of our old self and let Christ shape us into his image. When you read Psalm 18, and all the psalms, through the lens of our spiritual battle, it’s inspiring to see how the Trinity is present for us in our trials as a fortified wall, refuge, and strong tower. God is our strength, and we will never outgrow our desperate need for Him to step into the battle lines and fight for us.

The battlefield is our very self, and the opposing sides are conspiring to shape us into something. The world is trying to form us into the kinds of people who live and die for earthly things. While our Father is trying to conform us into the image of his Son, so we can enjoy the eternal flow of his blessed life. The world has won many of the spiritual battles in our lives since childhood, the our character and personality has been the spoils of those victories. This is why discipleship is so necessary, because we come to faith having already been discipled by the world, and Jesus has to do a lot of work to do to make us aware of our worldliness. Our “old self,” as described in Colossians 3:9, is our ego, our insecurities, our self-reliance, and our worldly and materialist identity. It is the self that judges others and wants to be judged as worthy and acceptable by the world. This old self is influenced and encouraged by three spiritual enemies: the devil, the flesh, and the world. God counters these enemies with his grace, favoring us with 1) disciplines of Jesus (spiritual practices that organize our life around abiding in the Spirit) and 2) discipling (the trials of many kinds that produce in us perseverance, character and hope).

In Colossians 3:7-9 the old self is described as having its own practices, which we must put off. The trouble with this is that the habits of sinful thinking and selfish comforts make us feel trapped, which is described as a “slavery to the flesh.” Years of surrendering the flesh (mind and body) to anger, greed, and physical cravings results in slavery to sin. The devil's message is that we have to live this way in order to become respectable and strong in a world that treats sin as righteousness. And so our flesh becomes trained for worldly pursuits, as our attitudes and cravings develop into automatic responses that we cannot resist by decision and sheer will. “What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body that is subject to death? Thanks be to God, who delivers me through Jesus Christ our Lord!” (Romans‬ ‭7:24-25‬) ‭Besides the gift of forgiveness, the good news of Jesus is that his way of life and character can be reproduced as our own spiritual life. Following in his footsteps rescues us from our body of death by training our flesh to be an ally in righteousness. This requires a transformation of our way of thinking so that we can catch ourselves when we are self-justifying sinful attitudes. If our mind is focused on God’s sense of rightness, then we can more easily notice how wrong our automatic reactions are in their anger, rudeness, and selfishness.

The Original Sin of Adam is the pattern everyone falls into, and it results in being seduced into a life and identity centered around the flesh. The Fall isn’t just a thing that happened, but something that is happening to us over and over, and it creates within us a fleshly and worldly sense of self. Like he did to Adam and Eve, the devil lies to us about who we are and what we need, while also sowing distrust in God’s motives. We can counter those lies, as Jesus did, through meditative Bible study and prayer. Filling our mind with God's values helps us to distinguish between truth and deception, so that we can examine the ways we express our objectified-self in certain circumstances and express our authentic-self in other circumstances. There is such a great temptation to find self-worth in impressing others, or pleasure in comparing ourselves to others. It’s an impulse to make ourselves an object, when in reality our worth and acceptance was determined before we were born, when God decided to uniquely fashion us in his image. A loving parent does not delight in a child because of their knowledge, strength, and how they measure up to other children. Children lack knowledge, are weak, but are uniquely lovable because they are their parent’s child. The natural response of a child that is loved, cared for, accepted, and respected, is devotion to their parents. This is what scripture wraps our mind around: “How great is the love the Father has lavished on us that we should be called the children of God.” We should wash our ego and worldliness with scripture, spending hours each week immersing ourselves in the nature of God and His loving posture towards us.

To fill our mind with God’s word, we have to discipline our mind and “take captive every thought and make it obedient to Christ.” A helpful practice to aid in quieting and purifying our mind is silence (or what’s called relational quiet) and solitude. With these disciplines, we imitate Jesus’ habit of withdrawing to solitary places, by placing ourselves somewhere for a focused and quiet time of reflection on God’s immediate presence. We should practice letting go of every thought besides this one: that God is with me and his presence is loving, merciful, and knows what best for me in every moment. The challenge is that our monkey minds resists this practice, because it is untrained in stillness. Even as we try to resist it, judgements bubble up about ourselves and others; judgments about their sin or about how virtuous we feel because our “superior” discipline. Practices like these require perseverance in continually separating the wheat from the chaff in our thinking, so that we can obey Philippians 4:8: “Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.”

The crux of a spiritual life is prayer. Really, what meditative Bible study, silence and solitude prepare us for is prayer. And what the active disciplines of fellowship, liturgy, service, and hospitality lead us to is prayer. Simply put, prayer is talking to God about what he is doing with us. What is the priority of holy people in the Bible? Prayer. We should praying as much as we can in the way that Jesus did in the Lord’s Prayer. How we pray is as important as how much we pray. Prayer should be continual, as well as fruitful in bearing within us humility, and a strong desire to worship, and increased focus on God’s good will. Scripture provides us the reflective content and inspiration for such prayers. The Lord’s Prayer ends with acknowledging our debts and trespasses, and our need for our Father to deliver us from temptation. John reinforces this practice by teaching that if anyone confesses their sin, then Jesus will forgive and cleanse them. (1 John 1:9) But we can’t pray about sins we are unaware of. In fact, the only pre-requisite for healing is reaching out and touching Jesus, but that presumes we know we are wounded. (Luke 8:43-44) And so, growing in knowledge of God requires growing in knowledge of self. Paradoxically, spiritual disciplines are both freeing and frustrating. They free us by rooting us on solid ground (life on Rock), and they frustrate us by creating stumbling stones that reveal our lack of balance and hidden sins. Perhaps this is what Jesus meant by “Anyone who falls on this stone will be broken to pieces; anyone on whom it falls will be crushed.” (Matthew‬ ‭21:44‬ ‭NIV‬‬) The old self is not good at discipleship to Jesus. We will not know how to pray until the mind of the old self falls to pieces in prayer. We will fall off the bike over and over until we learn balance; the same with prayer and the distractions that derail them; the same with feeling our feelings. I’ll admit that I’m not good at feeling anything. Contrary to popular belief, you can’t stuff one emotion without inhibiting the rest of them. And so I’m on the slow walk back to my own heart and being present to my emotions; naming them in prayer, refusing to be distracted from the negative ones, and learning to find a good word of encouragement.

Organizing our schedule around continually abiding in God is an exercise in de-centering our mind, emotions and body. Practices like fasting, meditation, solitude, and confession help us to become centered in God and his way of seeing ourselves and the world, instead of being dissipated and distracted by repetitive and unhelpful thinking and by bodily cravings. This is a way of detachment from sin and selfishness, paired with attachment to God and his Word. The major stumbling block in this endeavor, besides the devil’s lies and our flesh, is the world. The reason why John says “Do not love the world or anything in the world” is that the world is a self-perpetuating safe space for living for the flesh. Revolving all of our choices around selfish desires to the detriment of our soul, relationships, and even the environment is what the world calls righteousness. It’s also called freedom, ironically; even though it actually enslaves us to patterns we can’t resist. To transition from immaturity to maturity, we have to letting go of worldly thinking, which looks is always looking to boast in appearances or find fulfillment in pleasure. This worldly gospel of the flesh that we are surrounded by is a message of self-sufficiency that alienates us from God. To find joy in abiding in Christ requires setting ourselves apart from the world and it’s immersive messages.

The biggest challenge in doing this is busyness, which Jesus described in the Parable of the Sower. The world defines success by how much privilege, reputation, and possessions we have. So much of what overwhelms our time and energy is our attempt to keep up with the world’s standards of living. The more work, friends, and money we have, the more “successful” we are, and that translates into busyness, dissipation, and constant distraction. When God is not our Center, and his will is not our righteousness, then the world will fill us with its own sense of rightness, and the word of God will be choked out by “the worries of life and the deceitfulness of wealth.” Setting ourselves apart from the world, which is the literal definition of holiness, is how we counter the campaign of the world to make us too busy for devotion to God. I have personally replaced my addiction to hours of news and politics with reading devotional books and private practices of worship. We all have things in our lives that we need to abstain from, if not completely cut off, so we can have necessary margin and rest. Inversely, it the cutting off an appendage that causes you to sin, which leads to wholeness. Who would have thought? Jesus of course- the man who modeled wholeness. Even though Jesus was poor, we have a very hard time believing that the poor are blessed. Our culture is hostile to spiritual disciplines, especially, the private and interior one, because they disrupt they flip the script. The world says tweet, post, and talk more. But righteousness calls for taming the tongue, which can be practiced with silence and solitude. The world says to chase after relationships to cure your loneliness. But righteousness calls us into solitude with the Spirit, who can make us feel entirely seen, heard, and loved as children of God. The world says go out, stay out, be active, and consume, consume, consume. But righteousness calls us to rest, fast, abstain, and get drunk off of the Spirit. Often the spiritual way is an inverted one. It’s a Turn Around, which is what the Hebrew meaning of repentance literally meant.

Lastly, doing battle with the devil’s lies, the flesh, and the world requires humility. We can’t confuse discipline with virtue, or good judgment with judgmentalism. The more we embrace abiding in Christ, the more we should see our need for his mercy. The trajectory of the story of God in scripture is runs along streams of grace that gradually open up to an endless sea of forgiveness and compassion. It is pointed out in the book Things Hidden that what starts as an image of immersion (offering loving Presence), continues with an image of blood (offering reconciliation), and is consummated with an image of bread (offering wholeness). Putting these images together, which are book-marked in scripture over and over, we find that the loving and self-sacrificial Presence of God affirms our worth as children of God, and encourages us with continual mercy, helping us to persevere until we can become “mature and complete.” This is what God wants produced in of our lives: to become the kinds of people who are compatible with fellowship with the Spirit; people who see themselves through God’s eyes, mirroring his love back to him, as they experience their sense of self as “hidden in Christ.” This is the great victory that God is fighting for, waging war against the devil, the flesh, and world with the weapon of self-emptying love.

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✨My abusive Mother✨

The title of this entry says it all;

I have an abusive mother. And I suppose it’s rather strange to say out loud because for so many years I managed to convince myself that she was anything but. When you have a mother, you’re told a lot of things growing up, you’re told that your mother is someone who is supposed to look out for you, someone strong and dependable in your life whenever you and your family need a stern but loving guidance. Someone sturdy you want to lean on when times are tough. They are the shelter in a house, a protector. The one who has earned your respect for raising you up to be more than you thought you could be. Or in simpler terms, a mother is supposed to present a good example.

My mother was hardly a mother to me. I call her mother because that’s the only label I’ve ever given her and I respect her because I was raised to respect everyone, but making a mistake my mother often presented a poor example for her husband and child, whether she intended to or not. I can’t pinpoint when the abuse really started but I know it’s been going on for what may as well be a lifetime. She often laid her hands on me, but my mother also was and still is the type to verbally cut you down to nothing. She had a tongue like a knife. Well I know she’s been through a lot in her life and I know those experiences manifested into something foul, it hangs off my mothers back, whispering little things here and there, poisoning her mind, spirit and speech. She’s a woman that hurts, and has been hurt by people she was supposed to trust and depend on. “I have to understand that” or at least that’s what I always told myself. When family hurts you, you’d naturally feel inclined to defend their actions, you try to convince your friends that they aren’t so bad you even try to convince yourself as a means of rejecting the pain, but abuse is abuse, no matter what color you choose to paint over it. And for a while, my mother was a pitch black silhouette, a figure that I tried to touch but instead all I got to see was a cast shadow of the person she could have been but decided she wouldn’t be. Hardly the mother figure, but often the abuser. But no amount of experience can justify abusing your daughter.

Now I know I’ve been beating around the bush and holding off on explaining everything she did, but it’s hard. And that’s another thought I’m sure a lot of you in and outside my shoes have had. It’s hard to come out and talk about what’s been done to you. It’s hard to admit the truth. But that’s why I decided that I wouldn’t keep quiet anymore. No more fear or worry or talking myself out of all the strife in my mind as if that will make it vanish. I will be for you, what my mother wasn’t for me. Honest, transparent, and a good example. When I was a kid, my mother tyrannized me. Yes, the woman I was raised by had been violating and torturing me. And yes that’s something I blocked out for a long time and suspected but recently often got confirmed with. She didn’t look at me as though I were a child, she made me responsible for everything that happened and I were her punching bag whenever she needed one. She also made me responsible to take care for her broken heart. I remember those faces she made towards me, certain gestures and words that encouraged her desire of killing me. She had hands like barbed wire, everything she touched on me bled. She’d linger near my person and kept me close in a way that sincerely gave me nightmares both as a kid and as an adult, the kind that nearly made me lose sleep. I won’t give any nasty and horrifying details, they wouldn’t benefit any of us anyway but I need you to recognize that a child shouldn’t know that kind of fear and confusion, ever. It just isn’t okay.

In the years that followed my mother tried to force me into a mold. From the beginning, she wanted me to do everything she said, to be dressed in a specific way, surround myself with certain company but above all, she wanted my absolute obedience. And for a while, you could say she had it, but time changes us all and I guess it started when I recorded her torturing me so I had proof it happened, because that’s what gaslighting is. She made sure that I would never believe myself and my gut feeling. She managed to make me believe that she never hurt me which only confused me more. Eventually my mannerisms, clothes and interest took a path apart from what she laid out for me. Which is why she started to demean me at every turn. My mother would talk down to me and if she wasn’t shaming my decisions, she was shaming my very person. She talked behind my back but most times when I was around and was able to hear every word. And she knew it, so the words always found their way back to me in the end. In my mothers eyes I was an irresponsible, lazy disappointment, I was a liar that was always sneaking off to do bad things with awful people. I can’t say I was a saint I’m not perfect but not all my actions were worthy of that inconsiderate reaction to my youth. Nothing I ever did was good enough for her, things I’ve said or done would always become something of a burden on her, always something that I should have second-guessed and felt bad for and I guess, when I look at it that way it’s no wonder I started hating myself. When your own mother makes you feel like you can’t do anything right, when she makes it clear that she doesn’t trust you, you feel broken. I felt like I was falling apart because the woman that should have raised me was breaking me down. My actions didn’t matter, she never really questioned or talked through why I did things, she just judged everything I did for years. Until she trapped me in my own self doubt. And if she wasn’t insulting me, she was insulting my hobbies, if not them, my passions. She put me through hell, she made me feel trapped in that hideous inferno with her, she made me feel powerless and worthless. She made me feel, like I was nothing. Finally, she wore me down, she made me feel tiny small, she made me into an object that she pushed her sick desires and expectations onto, she made me feel unsafe, she made me feel anxious, she made me angry with how she treated me and started to ruin me. She made me fear life so much that I sought comfort and gratification in others to a point, where I clung to them to an unhealthy degree because who else would I turn to. I made food into a toxic addiction, like it was a drug and a safe haven that I didn’t want to let reality into. I took that like pills, constantly just to feel alive and when it wasn’t enough I turned elsewhere. I turned to people that didn’t care for my heart, I turned to distractions that couldn’t heal, I tried to fill my mind with meaningless nonsense just to stop the destructive voices in my head. They literally left me restless, they wouldn’t keep quiet, they wouldn’t shut up day and night, and eventually I thought those dark dark thoughts...

“I can shut them up forever” “I don’t wanna do this anymore” “make it stop”

And I almost took my life, it took me 19 years to get to the point where I felt so miserable that I didn’t want to be alive anymore. That hurt me in ways words can’t describe. However it only took a few days for me to remember it doesn’t have to be this way. If you struggle with suicidal thoughts, there is another way out, you may see that exit sign floating around the pills or the knife but don’t look at it. Don’t approach it because exiting life is not the solution to it. You may not understand it now but our time spent suffering is not even worthy of being compared to the reward and opportunity and joy that overcoming the pain can bring. I know life is hard, trust me. In the process of trying to get the help I needed I had to make a lot of sacrifices so that I could learn to grow and find strength and it was so so hard and the journey is gonna feel hard sometimes and I know you may not like the idea of life getting any harder but I promise you there are so many great things you can have and achieve when you choose to battle your anxiety and depression rather than taking it as it comes. when you choose to fight your personal demons instead of letting them in, anger, rage, sadness, loneliness they will all come, but they will also go again. None of those feelings about yourself belong in you and absolutely none of that defines you. You are more.

Look at yourself. I mean it, look at you. Look at your face, at your hands, wiggle your fingers. Look at them. You see you’re here, you’re still alive. You may be telling yourself “I’m weak, I can’t do it, I can’t keep fighting” but you are here because you’re strong and despite everything you’re going through. You’re still making the decision to get out of bed, to breathe and do something. You think that just happens, you think it’s easy, no!

That is power. That is a body in motion. A body and a spirit that are still alive and aren’t ready to go yet. That aren’t ready to give up. So don’t. Of course everyone’s situation is different and it’s easy for one person online to say life is worth living and things get better when I don’t know what you’re going through but that’s why you need to tell someone. You aren’t weak for seeking guidance and help. You aren’t weak for admitting you have a problem. Tell someone what’s wrong and pray they lift you up because you’ve been staying down for far too long and you don’t deserve it. Don’t spend so much time measuring your worth it keeping quiet because of “how important are my issues” or “ what good can someone like me even do, what can I offer and achieve when I’m like this.” Because you know what? I am someone like you too and I know I have a lot to offer even when I used to say I didn’t after all. I’m telling you my story and surely it’s gonna touch someone the right way. This words will reach someone’s heart and it will be enough to spark a positive change in at least one person, be it in a victim or a person who knows someone going through pain. Think about what you can offer. Believe me it’s not the end, it’s truly only the beginning, you still have the chance. You can still fight, you can still change and heal. Just take the first step.

Hi! I really liked your response to the tik tok question someone sent in, and I read the others you linked. I might just not be understanding it correctly, but at what point does being sexy or hot ever become for yourself and your own confidence and when does it become for men? Is there ever a point where you can like reclaim that or is sexiness at it's core just for men because of standards created for them? I'm mainly confused because I've seen a lot of responses in the past from men being like "women are just objectifying themselves when they dress slutty or sleep around it's not empowering if they can't respect themselves" so is that true then? Once again sorry if it's flying over my head, I wasn't really familiar with the tik tok trend in the first place.

I’m trying to figure it out myself! These are just some of my initial thoughts.  I think that maybe being sexy is for the male gaze when it’s presented for consumption (posted on social media or monetized, for example).  Being sexy by yourself, with your partner(s), or with your friends all seem to me like environments where it can be genuinely empowering and fun, but once it’s public/online, I think it becomes more complicated because the incentives are different.  I do think public sexiness can be reclaimed, but first, the structures that make sexiness oppressive (in this case, the male gaze) need to disappear.

I think it’s important to consider why being hot is where women are getting their confidence from.  Why is being told you’re sexy and actively chasing that validation “for yourself” and “a confidence boost”?  I think it’s telling that men don’t post videos of themselves being sexy and claiming that it’s “just for them”.  They either don’t post that kind of video (and instead post videos where they’re trying to get people to think they’re funny or cool) or they straight up admit to it being a thirst trap.  Why isn’t it being told that you’re smart, or funny, or strong, or a good friend the confidence boost that women are most frequently after?  The messages I get that I appreciate most aren’t the ones where people tell me I’m pretty.  They’re the ones where people tell me that I’ve helped them in some way.  But I’ve had to really unlearn linking confidence to attractiveness in order to get to a point where that’s true.  And unlinking those two things is hard.  Young girls spend their entire lives being bombarded with the message that the most important thing to be is hot.  And so our self-worth and our self-esteem gets wrapped up in being hot.  And who gets to decide what is or isn’t hot?  By and large, it’s men.  Somehow, there never seems to be a “bimbo” TikTok where women would say, “that’s so sexy” and men would say, “that’s disgusting,” even though those TikToks are nominally “not for men”.  It always seems to be the other way around.  Right now, I think there’s just so much cultural baggage that women are carrying around that we don’t even notice we have.

Okay, you feel confident in your body, but why?  What influences shaped your idea of what kind of body is worthy of being confident in?  What influences determined what you think of as “hot”, and who created those influences? Would you still be proud of your body if it changed?  And if you would no longer feel proud of it if it changed, why?  Where did you pick up the idea that those changes are bad and shameful?  Whose approval are you seeking when posting sexy videos, and whose approval are you afraid you’re going to lose?  

Once we get rid of that baggage, once women truly get to decide what is and isn’t sexy to them, then I think sexiness can truly be reclaimed.  But right now, we’re pretending all of that baggage doesn’t exist in order to justify our desire for male validation, often at the expense of bigger feminist issues (like healthcare, abortion rights, paid maternal leave, etc).  I want to be clear that I’m not judging people who do post sexy or “bimbo” videos online.  When you're told that being hot is the most important thing for years and years, I don’t think you can be blamed for acting on that belief.  And being “hot” does have real rewards, both emotionally and otherwise.  But it’s not a feminist statement, and to claim it is one is to be disingenuous.  I guess I just think we need to be more honest with ourselves about why we’re doing the things that we do, what we’re getting out of doing those things, and what the impact of them really is, both on ourselves and on other people.

i would love to hear abt your rococo lll

Oh my gosh, you lovely human, settle in. This production is my Ultimate Theater Pipe Dream and I apologize in advance for how little chill I’m going to have as I explain it. 

Are you ready? 

I want to start with my standard disclaimer: I am a theater artist, not a literary critic or a historian. When I’m directing a play, I extract fragments of lit crit and historical fact as I need them and leave the rest on the buffet line. This LLL in particular requires me to play fast and loose with history, so be prepared for a truckload of anachronisms. They make the vision work!

So, with that…

The sad Catch-22 of my Rococo LLL is that no theater will ever put it up:  a smaller, indie, risk-taking theater wouldn’t be able to afford the astronomical production costs of casting the 20 actors I need, to say nothing of building opulent sets and period-accurate costumes that imitate the royal courts of the late 18th century; conversely, a large, well-funded, regional theater wouldn’t be able to justify funding a 2.5-hour Shakespeare retelling that turns one of his most sparkling comedies into a dark, violent allegory about the French Revolution and casts young, privileged, light-skinned European elites as the tragic heroes brought low by proletariat Jacobean reform. Even as I type these words, I realize how irresponsible an investment that would be. My Rococo LLL is not the kind of classical theater we need in America right now. It is retrograde in terms of diversity, equity, accessibility, and social justice. It probably says something terrible about me that I even dreamt it up in the first place.

And yet.

I want to direct this production so badly it feels like I’ve swallowed a piece of the sun. If I had all the proper resources (time, money, venue, artists, designers, marketing, etc.), I would do it tomorrow. It’s my baby.

Here’s a blurb that kind of nutshells it all together:

July 1789. King Charles VI of Navarre has died, leaving his son, young Ferdinand III, to take the throne. On a tide of Enlightenment idealism, King Ferdinand commissions his three best friends to join him for a period of ascetic study at the court of Navarre. The rules are simple: no luxuries, no alcohol, and no women. For three long years.

The boys’ oath is immediately put to the test when four young ladies arrive in Navarre on a diplomatic mission from Versailles. Led by the spirited Duchess d’Albret, the Frenchwomen and their mile-high coiffures prove irresistible to the King and his companions. With the help of a motley band of scholars and servants, they set out to woo the Duchess and her friends. But when sober news arrives from Paris, will young love be enough to rewrite history?

Set against the glittering backdrop of the last golden days of the ancien regime, this bold reimagining of Shakespeare’s beloved comedy invites us to look at the most famous revolution in Western history through the eyes of the young elites who learned the truth about privilege just a moment too late.

Of all the radical things I want to do with this production, the thing that would probably cause the most controversy (and earn me a reputation for being a narcissistic, pessimistic, Shakespeare-desecrating hack) is my addition of a prologue set in Paris in June 1793. I could try to sum it up here, but honestly I think it would be a lot more effective and comprehensive just to post the excerpt from my script:

…etc.

So basically, half my audience will vomit due to the unexpected onslaught of blood, gore, and violence…and the other half will vomit from the sheer anti-progressivism of the show’s politics. And I don’t blame anyone who finds fault with this production concept. On a political level, I find fault with it. Arguably the last thing our society needs right now is a Shakespeare production that paints young, pale, overprivileged trust fund babies as the poor, helpless victims of a liberal-led revolution for social equality. 

But at the same time, I can’t help but think that the entire point of Love’s Labour’s Lost is to make us look hard at our own privilege and ego, and weigh those things that seem sooo valuable against the true gifts of love, empathy, friendship, generosity, and kindness. 

“This is not generous, not gentle, not humble!” Holofernes cries as the Crazy Eight—high on adrenaline and their own cruel wit—jeer him off the stage during his performance as Judas Maccabeus in 5.2. More than any other, this moment epitomizes the value of setting LLL in a sex-charged, champagne-fueled, pastry-laden, cream-filled, lace-drenched, satin-covered, feather-topped, Rococo landscape. There’s no way in hell the audience is meant to sympathize with the insult-flinging prep school Kens and Barbies when they humiliate Holofernes to the point of tears. Shakespeare is way too smart for that. In the final whimsical moments before the messenger Marcadé comes onstage, laden with the news that is going to change the entire genre of the play, the Bard turns a critical spotlight on the young people we’ve been rooting for since Act One, Scene One and invites us to view them—for the first time, really—through the lens of the hardworking, lesser-privileged plebs of Navarre. The portrait is revolting. However witty, cultured, and elegant the courtiers might seem, they clearly have a lot more homework to do. Marcadé’s arrival a few short lines later is the final test of their youthful ego. Is being clever worth the price of experiencing love? Is love worth the price of responsibility? Is she brave enough to admit that she’s scared to take up the mantle? Is he brave enough to give up the one person who matters for the sake of the people he once mocked, the people he now must lead?

I don’t believe the Navarre Nerds and Les Filles have survived the centuries because they end the play as sharp-tongued, entitled, and self-absorbed as they behave at the start. We wouldn’t still be making and remaking this play if the protagonists were so static. I think the young people of LLL resonate with us—or, at least, they resonate with me—because in the course of Shakespeare’s plotless little play they grow up right before our eyes. King Ferdinand learns that he can’t bury his head in his books and ignore the responsibility of ruling when he watches the love of his life choose duty to her country over the desires of her own heart. The Princess learns that the cost of being the cleverest person is human connection when she finds herself laughing alongside Ferdinand at the antics of the Nine Worthies and somehow feels happier than she ever did when she was mocking him into the earth. Berowne learns that love wins every argument: against wit, against intellect, against bachelorhood, against willpower itself. Rosaline learns that love is strength, not weakness, and that she is stronger when she allows herself to feel. Dumaine learns that love demands vulnerability. Katherine learns that love is not a game. Longaville learns that love thrives on honesty. Maria learns that love takes courage. When the Crazy Eight say their heartbreaking goodbyes at the end of 5.2, they no longer care about sounding smart or superior; in fact, they speak against their own intelligence. The erudite Ferdinand trips over his words, the cynical Berowne invokes romantic idealism, the boastful Dumaine speaks with humility, the shy Longaville puts all his cards on the table. The women are no less altered. I don’t want to fall into the trap of ascribing an easy, one-size-fits-all moral maxim to LLL, but what else are we supposed to take away from this play if not the fact that we fucking owe it to ourselves as a species to set aside our stupid pride and say, “I love you,” when we feel it because we never know when time is going to run out? What else are we supposed to feel if not pride in these young people for choosing to step up and take responsibility when they hear news that the world outside is ending? That there may be no world left? Les Filles go with their Queen. The Nerds rally around their King. They choose fidelity to their respective kingdoms over the indulgence of love. But they also learn to value love for what it is, and to call it by name…even if that love can only last for a few fleeting seconds:

“If this or more than this I would deny,To flatter up these powers of mine with rest,The sudden hand of death close up mine eye.Hence ever, then, my heart is in thy breast.”

(King Ferdinand, V.ii)

As the Crazy Eight grapple in real time with the consequences of Marcadé’s message and what it means for their role as leaders in society, Rosaline gives Berowne a task to complete in their year apart that practically hums with poetic intelligence. Her lines are so iconic, we still quote them colloquially today:

BEROWNETo move wild laughter in the throat of death?It cannot be, it is impossible.Mirth cannot move a soul in agony.

ROSALINEWhy, that’s the way to choke a gibing spirit,Whose influence is begot of that loose graceWhich shallow laughing hearers give to fools.A jest’s prosperity lies in the earOf him that hears it, never in the tongueOf him that makes it. Then, if sickly ears,Deafed with the clamors of their own dear groans,Will hear your idle scorns, continue then,And I will have you and that fault withal.But if they will not, throw away that spiritAnd I shall find you empty of that fault,Right joyful of your reformation.

(V.ii)

I think this is the moment when I would start crying if I ever watched my Rococo LLL performed live. Because of all les Filles, I think Rosaline is the only one who knows that by choosing to accompany the Duchess back to Versailles at the end of LLL, she is effectively signing her death warrant. The Jacobeans and sans-cullottes are not going to want young, eligible, Catholic Rococo princesses wafting around their new, secular state. The guillotine may not yet exist in the summer of 1789, but the there is a thirst for blood and Rosaline can smell it. And now Bastille has fallen. Paris is on fire. King Louis XVI has months to live. The world will never be the same. Rosaline’s once-ordered, once-gilded country is careening into a bloody nightmare of soured ideals and ruthless social weeding, and even though she can’t see the future, she can read men like books. Even Berowne. Even the charismatic nihilist who earned a bachelor’s degree in bachelorhood and tried to hide his heart under a bushel. She can read him and she can save him. They can’t kill her husband if she doesn’t have one. 

Rococo LLL? I don’t know. It’s a pipe dream. 

But can’t you picture it? 

Tagging my girls @harry-leroy @suits-of-woe @lizbennett2013 @dedraconesilet @exeunt-pursued-by-a-bear @henriadical in case anyone is interested :)

Thanks a million for one of my favorite asks ever! Happy holidays, friend!!

xx Claire

I was angry with Steve’s ending at first. But the more I thought about, the more I was able to justify it until I’ve finally found some peace in it. First to clear the air: Bucky definitely knew what was going on. I still don’t fully understand all of the time travel logistics of this (if he created an alternate universe, why was he already on the bench instead of coming out of the portal? Does this mean he was Peggy’s husband the whole time? Is our main continuity actually the alternate timeline that he had created?). Also, I don’t think this takes away Peggy’s autonomy in any way. Assuming the alternate timeline theory is true, her other husband and family still exist just fine in the main timeline. The main problem I had with the ending was the nagging feeling that, well, this isn’t a decision that Steve would make. Until I realized that it might be. 

To start with, let’s take Tony, as a comparison who had a pretty stereotypical hero’s arc and went, in the most general terms, from selfish to selfless (no hate on Tony’s arc lmao I love him and obviously it was more complex than this, but that was the basic transition. He went from egotistical playboy to, well, Iron Man.) Steve’s arc can be thought of as the opposite. He starts out as bright and shiny Steve Rogers, the ultimate underdog who just wants to prove his worth and help fight for the cause he believes in. He’s literally the perfect, selfless soldier. After he sacrificed himself to save the world and went into the ice, when he woke up, he did the same thing. He joined S.H.I.E.L.D. and continued to devote himself to an organization that he believed was protecting the world. He had lost everyone and everything he had ever known, so his entire life became about the mission. But that very organization and, by extension, his entire life, turned out to be a lie. And so he lost that faith in the government and institutions in general. He still hung onto the team he had built, but in Civil War, when Tony was guilt-ridden by all the destruction they had caused, Steve still acted so selflessly. Of course he felt guilty too--anyone who denies that is insane--but unlike Tony, he truly believed that the government couldn’t be trusted to regulate the Avengers. And who could blame him? And so he, more than anyone else, was willing to shoulder the crushing blame and guilt for the deaths of innocent civilians  because he knew that it was what was best for the public at large. But he was treated like a criminal despite the fact that he was just trying to do what was best. Even worse, he was treated like a criminal by one of his best friends, who on numerous occasions (especially at the beginning of Endgame) made it very clear that he still blamed Steve for the things that had gone wrong. He became a vigilante, still acting selflessly but not trusting anyone anymore except for a few people. And then Steve lost his two best friends, Sam and Bucky, for five years. Five years where he was constantly reminded of the fact that they had failed. But he still kept going, and his closest friend by far was Nat, and they kept fighting despite everything seeming more and more useless. And then Nat dies. She sacrifices herself to save the world. And so does Tony, who also sacrifices himself to save the world. Steve is still there, but he can’t shake the feeling that it should’ve been him, and after it’s all over, part of him wishes he had sacrificed himself too. Because he knows it’s a selfish thing to think, but it would’ve been easier. He would have finally saved the world and actually, genuinely helped people; he would’ve been treated like a hero; he wouldn’t have to deal with the gaping emptiness of his life afterwards. Because his entire life had been about the mission, and it was over. And sure, he had Sam and he had Bucky. He had Wanda and Clint and Maria Hill and everyone else. But he knew that if he stayed, he’d always be Captain America. And he was so, so sick of it. He was tired of losing the only people he trusted. He was tired of living life on edge, constantly fighting for other people only to fail and be blamed for it. He had seen how much Tony loved his new, quiet life, and he had seen how quickly everything could be taken away. And one thing had changed. He was no longer trapped here, in this still-somewhat-unfamiliar world that he had been trapped in for so long. He had just seen Peggy, he had seen the entire world--the entire life--that had been taken from him, and now he had the means to get there. And he knew at this point, what with the surplus of more than capable heroes and everything else that we saw, that Sam and Bucky would be okay and that the world would be okay without him. So he finally, after years and years of putting everyone in the damn universe before himself, did something that would make him happy. 

So no, this decision isn’t one that would have been made by 1945 Steve or by 2012 Steve or even by 2018 Steve. But he’s grown, he’s changed, and he’s been through a hell of a lot since then. He didn’t “go back to the beginning” like everyone’s saying, he didn’t fail to move on with his life. In fact, that’s exactly what he did. He moved on. Not in the sense of linear time, but in the sense of his purpose in life and what he had been missing this whole time. He moved on from being a superhero and became someone else instead. And sure, it would’ve been easier if he had died. It would’ve been easier if he had sacrificed himself to save the world and died a hero, exactly like how he started. But this ending is messier and more complicated, and so is Steve. He’s not a different person than we thought he was. 2012 Steve is still 2012 Steve, Civil War Steve is still Civil War Steve. And this Steve is still ours. He still fought to the end to save the world, he was still worthy of wielding Mjolnir, he still understood the importance of beating Thanos and never losing hope. He’s Steve. He’s messy and complicated, parts of him have changed and parts of him definitely haven’t. And that’s why we love him. 

there’s been a lot of change and i haven’t been able to catch up, really. i’ve been surrounded by lovely people, mostly, and the few that aren’t so lovely, never interact with me for long. i’ve been writing more, very gingerly, very secretively, and reading when i feel particularly bored, and that’s good. there’s a secret part inside of me that wants to be vulnerable and magical and everything i had to hide when i grew up and became an adult. and peeking into this cosmetology shit, i’m realizing just how all-consuming work is, when you’re constantly running from yourself.

i’ve kept myself too busy to process the emotional struggles of remembering my childhood more clearly. i know this is a bad idea, lol, because i think i’ll only remember with greater clarity as time goes on and i have to practice good coping mechanisms and letting myself think on those things. it kept coming up in drunken rambles, and i knew that my oldest and dearest friend would listen for the weekend we just spent together, but admitting to a past of molestation from my paternal grandfather has at once enlightened me and “broken” me. 

and i don’t mean broken in the way i used to mean it - useless, hopeless, never-to-be-the-same - but broken me open, broken like a crab leg, so we get to the real meat of it. 

i don’t quiet myself any more because i’m afraid of how someone will react, as much as i know that if i indulge my first instincts too carelessly i’ll never get to the point. living with this current roommate, for all the drama and petty retorts i come up with, has just been a huge reminder of all the things i tried to leave behind, and i’ve been trying to parse out exactly why, and trying to find the common ground that will let me love my roommate again, as i did before. and maybe it’s not healthy, but once someone loses my trust, they lose my respect, my warmth, and my patience. 

i think taking that warmth, trust, and patience away from someone just reminds me of The Big Hurt (TM), when i cut my father out of my life. and it’s funny too, how it’s such a different scenario, and i am far from helpless, but the same feeling of being trapped and scared and alone tries to worm its way back into my life. it’s almost comforting, because i knew how to navigate it so well, and for a really long time. climbing out of that comfort zone always leaves me with fears, too, that i’m becoming just like my father, that i’m a burden to everyone who knows me, that i’ve never done anything worthwhile, and - i think the biggest one, here - that i’m lying to everyone, including myself. 

i feel like i’ve been taking the bait, over and over again, and getting frustrated when someone’s yanking me along. yes, i’ve been pursuing these fantastic goals and really digging into who i am and where i want to go, and believe me, this post is not about dismissing that fact. i’ve also been chasing a sense of control that i don’t need, and won’t find. something about this roommate situation hits close to home and sparks up this fight-or-flight reaction in me that just... doesn’t have a place in my life, anymore. (i wonder if you can sell your adrenaline?) 

it’s interesting, too, overhearing conversations this roommate has with others about me, and the facts of our last dispute being... off. not that i think she lied on purpose, i just think she made assumptions that weren’t accurate about details that don’t affect her. and everyone needs to vent, i mean look at my fucking tumblr, but still. i was so mad at first, and wanted to go tell her she was wrong, but then i thought, “who am i doing that for? what does that benefit? do i need to justify myself to her because she needs to know the real facts, or do i just want to be right?” and i realized that’s part of the game she and i have been playing: “no, i’m right and you’re wrong!”

but who really cares? what it all boils down to is that i can’t control her or what she thinks of me. my worth is not measured by the people who like me, and while that’s a great thing to say, it’s a pain in the ass to learn. 

that’s another thing, too - i’m not a pain in the ass like everyone told me when i was growing up. i’m worthy of being here. i made it, motherfuckers. i’m generally a pretty happy person, despite all of it. and while i don’t want to surround myself with people like my father and grandfather, isn’t it funny that i’m worrying over someone not liking me, when i grew up generally not being very well liked? 

(shout out to my poor mother who did and does her best throughout all this crap.)

there’s still a lot of anger and hurt inside me, and generally, i keep a pretty even temper. i’m afraid of doing something wrong, and have been practicing gentleness with myself when i remember something that makes me cringe. but also i think this shows a lot of growth. i think it was good that i had this roommate, because i needed a reminder that i am strong, and i am doing what i think is right, and that won’t be received well by the wrong people, but that doesn’t mean i’m actively becoming a bad person. 

and who am i, the fucking king of the world, handing out crosses to bear that say “you’re good, you’re bad”? that’s way above my fucking cosmic pay grade. i’m learning, that’s enough. it can be ugly, it can be gorgeous, it can be a fucking mess and sometimes it feels perfectly aligned and right now it’s fucking all of it. 

but i’m worth this journey and i’m worth the struggle and all the hurt inside me is turning into love and kindness. 

Scattered Thoughts from a Second Viewing of Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom

Part 2 of ??? for today’s Jurassic Park thoughts.  Part 1 is here.

Aw yeah, it’s a scattered thoughts post!  That’s like a review, except lazier and harder to make sense of!  YAY

I’m gonna break this down into the Good, the Bad, and the Unnecessary Headcanons.  I’m also going to put a break because 1. this will probably get long and 2. THIS DEFINITELY CONTAINS SPOILERS

SPOILERS BELOW!  YOU WERE WARNED!  TWICE!

The Good

I should note that most of these positive points have an implied “...but...” at the end that will connect to points in The Bad.  I’m not going to put those “but”s in, though, because I don’t want to undermine the fact that these positives DO exist.

This movie is pretty solid if you only focus on Blue’s arc.  She is by far the most consistent character in the film, and is at least tied for the strongest character arc if not the outright winner.  Great for fans of monsters-as-characters. 

Maisie, the little girl, is possibly tied with Blue for best character in the film, or at least a close second.  She’s both consistent in her characterization AND develops as a character as the story goes on - something no other human character in the movie can claim!  I’d say she’s the best child character in the franchise, but that’s such a depressingly low bar that it would feel like damning with faint praise (but she is though).  So instead I’ll say that she’s one of the best child characters in film.  That’s a big statement to make, but dammit that child actress deserves some fucking props.

They rerailed Owen Grady’s character a bit - he’s much more Goofy Fun Loving Chris Pratt this time around, and much less Super Macho Tough Guy Army Man Who Trains Dinosaurs.  It makes him a bit of a mess of the character, but if we view the Owen Grady of this movie as a completely different character from the Owen Grady of Jurassic World, he’s actually pretty likable.

The cinematography and the editing of this movie is, as I said before, absolutely fucking stellar.  The chase scenes are both beautifully and creatively shot, doing great work at making dinosaurs both terrifying and wondrous to behold in a day and age where it’s very hard to wow people with special effects.  The action scenes are both interesting AND easy to follow - most movies these days have to choose one or the other.  Even the quiet moments are well shot and edited, held back only by, y’know, the dialogue.  And the characters.  And the plot.  It’s still a mess, but it’s a mess that was directed well.

There are so many clever homages to past horror films in this flick - not just the Jurassic Park movies, either.  The Indoraptor’s chase of Maisie references both Nosferatu and The Haunting (1963), for example, and while I never would have expected those movies to be referenced in a Jurassic Park movie... it actually works?  Like, really well?  It’s great and creative.  There is a genuine artistic spark behind a lot of the things in this movie and that has to be acknowledged.

That Brachiosaurus scene has immense emotional power.  If you weren’t emotionally moved by it to some degree, either 1. you hated this movie before it even began and refused to allow it even the slightest chance of being good, or 2. you’re some sort of heartless monster who feels nothing for animals.

The Indoraptor is sort of like Emperor Palpatine, in that he’s a flat character whose only motivation seems to be “I really love doing evil things,” and yet that somehow... works?  Like, the execution takes that flimsy motivation and makes something really compelling.  He’s a flat villain, but he’s so delighted by his explicitly evil actions that you can’t help but be charmed.  The Indoraptor is probably the most straight forwardly-evil character in the entire franchise, and it’s delightful to watch.

The lady playing the Paleo-Veterinarian gave a very good snarky performance despite the limitations of the writing.  I would like to see that actress in more things.

Rexie got several chances to punish the wicked, and that makes the child in me happy.

I got to see a lot of scenes of dinosaurs fighting each other and killing evil rich people, and that was satisfying on a primal level.

There are two excellent story concepts in this movie that could each make one really unique movie if they were given focus.  A movie about people rescuing dinosaurs from an exploding island has an inherent drama to it and would be like no film I can think of before.  A movie about people running from an escaped dinosaur in a spooky old mansion also has an inherent drama to it and is unlike any film I can think of.  These two concepts could each individually make for a really great movie.

The Bad

There’s a Red Letter Media video about the Alien prequel film Prometheus that just consists of one of the reviewers asking a long list of questions raised by sloppy, inconsistent, and overall bad storytelling that hampers that movie despite its fairly decent direction.  It’s really funny if you’ve seen the movie, and you can find it here.  I mention it because a voice in the back of my head was slowly assembling my own version of that video while I was giving this movie my second watch because... because damn, dude, this script is just ridiculously sloppy.

You could also... man, fuck me, but you could actually make a Cinema Sins style takedown of this movie without having to make shit up and willfully misinterpret the film like they do in 99% of their videos.  And you all know how much I fucking hate Cinema Sins, so when I say their style of criticism/”humor” can actually work here, you know I’m not speaking lightly.

I’m not going to do either of those things but I do want to focus on a couple examples of this movie’s sloppy writing because, like, it NEEDS to be addressed in detail, y’know?  Or at least I feel the need to address it.

I mean a lot of things when I say it’s “sloppy,” but the jist is that it often has characters behave not according to their own motivations, personalities, etc., but according to the needs of the plot.  So too does, like, everything else - dinosaurs, the volcano, physics, lava, you name it.  The villains get probably the worst of it, but Claire Dearing and Comedy Relief IT Guy get it pretty bad too.

Ok, so, like, Zia is a Paleo-Veterinarian, right?  What the hell makes that different than a normal Veterinarian?  It can’t be that you exclusively work with dinosaurs, because Zia explicitly says she has never seen a dinosaur in person.  Wouldn’t... wouldn’t that make her just a normal veterinarian, then?  How can she know how to heal these animals without ever, like, studying one in person?  It’s like they wanted to do some world building and so wrote that Paleo-Veterinarians are, like, a thing, but also wanted to give a heroic character a moment where they look at dinosaurs for the first time with awe, and decided to do both moments with the same character.  Like, they couldn’t do it with Comedy Relief IT Guy because his whole schtick is that he’s desperately afraid of literally everything and everyone, because a guy who’s scared of things is funny (?).  They couldn’t do it with Claire because she’s seen fucking dinosaurs before, and so has Owen.  They don’t bring Maisie to the island so she’s out, and everyone else is evil, so Paleo-Vet gets the “Holy Fucking Shit It’s a Dinosaur” moment, even though giving her that moment makes no fucking sense for a person who’s whole reason for being here is that she knows how to heal dinosaurs, which is probably pretty fucking hard to do if you’ve never fucking seen a dinosaur before.  You see?  You see what I mean when I say the characters have no consistency, that they do things as the plot demands, even when it makes no sense for their character?  This is but one of many examples.

And it’s sadly the same for the dinosaurs.  Look, I love seeing dinosaurs eat people because I’m a little demented, and I know most of you do too, because all humans have at least a small desire to see wild animals eat people we dislike.  It’s our nature.  But the emotional core of this movie’s premise is the idea that we should want to see these creatures alive - that for all the danger they present, they are worth saving.  This film needed to establish that these creatures are worthy of our sympathy.  It’s pretty sad, then, that so much of the movie shows the dinosaurs as being bloodthirsty monsters whose primary desire - ranked even above their own self preservation - is to kill and eat during every waking moment of their lives.

Take the Baryonyx’s big scene - the Baryonyx, Claire, and Comedy Relief IT Guy are trapped in a building as fucking lava drips down around them.  This would be a great moment to establish these animals are living creatures who enjoy living.  A real animal would not spend its time trying to eat two humans here - it would try to escape the room filling with FUCKING LAVA that it’s trapped in.  And that’s what should have happened, both logically AND thematically.  Our heroes see this big carnivorous dinosaur enter and are worried, but instead of attacking it tries to claw its way out of the room.  It’s as scared as they are, and even shoots them a desperate, pleading glance when they find an exit that’s too small for it to fit through.  It would establish that, terrifying as these dinosaurs are, they just want to live.  We would then feel justified in siding with the people risking their lives to save these creatures.  INSTEAD, the Baryonyx spends the whole scene trying to murder them even when there are clearly other problems that should take priority over that, namely the fact that it’s trapped in a room FUCKING FILLED WITH LAVA.

Almost immediately after this is a scene where a bunch of herbivores stampede past our heroes, with a Carnotaurus stopping mid-flight to try and eat the humans.  PRIORITIES, Carnotaurus!  The Carnotaurus then stops mid-pursuit to inexplicably attack another fleeing dinosaur, which shakes him off, and then goes back to menacing our heroes while the lava grows EVER CLOSER.  This... this isn’t how animals fucking behave, dudes.  This is a textbook case of treating a monster as a plot device rather than a character - there is no reason, not plausible motivation for the Carnotaurus to menace our heroes at this time.  It is a menace because the plot demanded it.  Why the fuck would you save creatures that would prefer to slaughter humans at the cost of dying in fucking lava mere seconds afterwards?

Also the T.rex then pops out of nowhere to kick the shit out of the Carnotaurus and save the heroes, again, WHILE LAVA IS MERE SECONDS AWAY FROM THEM.  To people who aren’t like me and thus don’t think of Rexie as a character, this would seem to be another example of dinosaurs in this movie being suicidally violent.

Later, after escaping Rexie and the Carnotaurus just in time for the fucking lava to almost catch up to them, our heroes join the stampeding dinosaurs.  An allosaurus is among them and inexplicably tries to attack out heroes and gets killed by a falling rock as a result of its inexplicable decision to pause in its escape for the sake of killing people.  FUCKING HELL.

Like... this isn’t just me nitpicking.  This actively undermines the entire fucking story.  Even Jurassic Park III gave its dinosaurs consistent goddamn motives.  Jesus Christ, this movie’s writing made me cite Jurassic Park III as a positive example!

Colin Trevorrow was clearly pissed that people rightly noted the weird and extremely prevalent sexism of both Jurassic World (which he wrote and directed) and The Book of Henry (which he only directed), because he threw in some of the clunkiest “Girl Power!” performative feminism moments I have ever seen in this movie.  And before you say “Colin Trevorrow didn’t direct this one though!” please check IMDB because while he didn’t direct it he still wrote the fucking screenplay.  The moments that “address the criticism” he received are so blatant and ham-fisted that they feel like something an Anti-SJW blogger would point out to prove that Political Correctness is killing our culture.  They’re sort of equivalent to a “I’m not racist!  I have black friends!” argument - “I’m not sexist - look, I had this character tell a man how capable is after he lightly brought up how this might be dangerous for her!”  There’s a moment like that in Jurassic Park too, to be fair, but it’s fucking subtle and understated by comparison.

There are so many great scenes and monster designs in this movie, and there are two plot concepts that would make for SUCH GOOD films if they were properly developed, and the director had a clear love for them all as well as the artistic skill to back it up. J.A. Bayona deserved to make a great Jurassic Park movie.  That Brachiosaurus death scene deserved to be in a great Jurassic Park movie.  Blue, the Indoraptor, Maisie, and the actress who played Zia deserve to be in a great Jurassic Park movie.  So much of this film deserved the right to be lauded and praised.  So it’s so, so, SO frustrating that the whole of Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom falls utterly short of the sum of its parts.

The Unnecessary Headcanons

I’ve seen some people try to explain the flaws in this movie away with their headcanon interpretations and, like... that’s not how stories work, though?  Like, that doesn’t remove the flaws that exist - at best all it does is show that the flaws could have been fixed with some thoughtful revision.  It reinforced the fact that this movie, taken on its own, needs to be fixed.

That said, here are my headcanons for some of the weird shit that happens in this movie.

We’re, like, 99% of the way to having the text of this series explicitly state that T.rexes can smell out evil and intentionally seek to destroy it.  Almost every scene Rexie has in this movie shows her coming out of nowhere to punish the wicked and inadvertently save the righteous.  It’s still in the realm of subtext but, like, if it keeps happening we’re going to have to declare Rexie a literal agent of a higher cosmic power.  Jurassic Park T.rexes can smell the sin on you.

I’m pretty sure the nonsensical blood transfusion that made Blue’s blood “impure” and thus kept Dr. Wu from using her for gene splicing also gave her Rexie’s action hero powers, like how getting bit by a spider turned Peter Parker into a superhero.  That’s why Blue instinctively knew how to safely survive an explosion via turning her back to it, and also why she got to do the Rexie thing and heroically save the humans from the evil dinosaur at the last minute.

Considering the fact that the Indoraptor is just, like, Explicitly Evil, I think Dr. Wu’s motivations may be less about weaponizing dinosaurs and making money, and more about trying to isolate the Evil Gene, a gene that makes things evil.  Sadly, the only people with money to finance this project have the Evil Gene as well, and so Dr. Wu is forced to make all these dinosaurs and monsters while secretly researching the Evil Gene on the side.  He hopes that in time he will be able to destroy the Evil Gene, and it clearly involves finding its opposite - hence the Evil Destroying T.rexes and the obsession with raising a hybrid based off of the Explicitly Benevolent velociraptor Blue.  Dr. Wu dreams of literally curing evil, and dinosaurs are the method he has been forced to use to pursue this dream.

Quality Should Not Be Binary

In my wanders through life in general - and the internet in particular - I’ve noticed a strange mindset regarding the quality of media and the people who produce it.  It’s this weird idea that something is either 100% perfect, flawless and ‘how dare you claim to be a real fan while suggesting there’s anything wrong’, or that it’s completely awful, valueless and ‘you’re a terrible person for enjoying that or thinking it has anything to offer’ - sometimes flipping from one to the other as soon as a ‘flaw’ is revealed, or a ‘bad’ work does something suitably impressive.

This mindset has never really made sense to me.  Maybe I’m a just habitual over-thinker who spends unhealthy amounts of time analysing things, but I can’t see how this sort of absolutist approach would do anything other than shut down discourse, limit the value to be had from a piece and maybe make people angry.

So in honour of that please enjoy some indulgently long navel-gazing about critical analysis and media quality.

Disclaimer: This post is going to summarise my personal philosophy. Everyone approaches life - and especially art - in their own way and far be it for me to say you’re wrong if you prefer a different approach.  You do you.

Blindness Hurts Both Ways

To an extent I get the simple yes/no mindset.  Analysis takes time and it would be exhausting to give an extensive, nuanced breakdown on your view at the start of every discussion.  Plus the whole ‘dissecting the frog’ thing can definitely apply to enjoyment of media.

However, taking it to the point where you’re denying the positive side of things you dislike or refusing to acknowledge faults in works/people you enjoy has the potential to swing around and bite you in the butt.

Why deny yourself a useful experience? I think there’s an important distinction to make between being good and being useful. Subjective, technical or, ethical ‘badness’ is not the same as having no value. Similarly, being touching, entertaining or otherwise enjoyable doesn’t preclude something from having genuine problems.

Personally, I can find it difficult to work out exactly what’s going right in a generally positive piece.  After all, ‘good’ doesn’t hinge on a single point - it’s usually the product of a lot of things working well together, and it can be hard to figure out cause and effect in a system like that. It’s much easier to look at a failed attempt and identify the specific elements that caused problems, where it had the potential to recover, and places where it might be succeeding in spite of those issues. Similarly, some works can be very strong except when it comes to ‘that one thing’, which in itself is a useful reference.  Negative examples can be just as beneficial as positive ones, and turning a blind eye to a piece’s weaker aspects just denies you that tool.

On the other hand, sometimes a piece and/or creator can be ethically awful while being technically strong or succeeding at its intended purpose. In this case, while they’re not positive it can certainly be valuable to analyse the techniques they use, and even apply those tools when selecting and creating things for yourself.

It’s important to remember that acknowledging where something is strong isn’t the same as endorsing or supporting it, and that there’s a huge difference between pointing out a genuine weakness or failing and maliciously hating on a work or creator.

Why give something that much power? Starting with the gentler side, I think it’s important to remember that a work being ‘good’ on the whole shouldn’t be an excuse to gloss over possibly troubling elements or to give creators a free pass on their actions.  Sure, even the best-intentioned artists make bad PR and creative decisions sometimes but it’s also valid to acknowledge and call out possible misbehaviour when it crops up, rather than blindly playing defence until it reaches critical mass and undermines the good of their work (or worse, actually hurts someone).

There can also be a danger to simply writing off and ignoring ‘bad works’, especially if you dislike them based on ethical grounds.  If something ‘bad’ is becoming popular it’s usually a sign that it’s getting at least one thing right - whether that be plugging into an oft-ignored hot-button issue, or simple shock-value and shameless marketing.  Attributing the success of such pieces to blind luck and ignoring any potential merits that got them there opens up the potential for other, similarly objectionable works to replicate that outcome.

Not to mention the issues that can come from letting these things spread unchecked.  Think about how many crackpot theories and extreme notions have managed to gained traction, in part due to a lack of resistance from more moderate or neutral parties who at the time dismissed them as ‘too stupid’ or ‘too crazy to be real’.  Unpleasant as it may be, I think there’s some value in dipping into the discourse around generally negative media.  If nothing else, shining a spotlight on the misinformation or insidious subtext that a work might be propagating can help genuine supporters notice, sidestep or otherwise avoid the potential harms even as they keep enjoying it.

Why lock yourself into a stance like that? Maybe it’s just my desire to keep options open, but it seems like avoiding absolutist stances gives you a lot more room to move.  Publicly championing or decrying a work and flatly rejecting any counterpoints runs the risk of trapping yourself in a corner that might be hard to escape from if your stance happens to change later.  If nothing else, a bit of flexibility can help you back down without too much egg on your face, not to mention shrinking the target area for fans or dissenters who you might have clashed with in the past.

A little give and take can also help build stronger cases when you do want to speak out.  Sometimes it’s better to just acknowledge the counterpoints you agree with and move on to the meat of the debate rather than wasting time tearing down their good points for the sake of ‘winning’.  The ability to concede an argument is a powerful tool - you’d be surprised how agreeable people become when they feel like they’re being listened to.  

Finally, from an enjoyment perspective, is it really worth avoiding or boycotting what could otherwise be a fun or thought-provoking experience just because you don’t 100% agree with it or have criticised it in the past? Sure, there are absolutely times when a boycott is justified but why deny yourself a good time just because it involves an element that’s been arbitrarily labelled ruinous.  ‘With Caveats’ is a perfectly acceptable way to approach things.

Existence vs Presentation of Concepts

A rarer argument that occasionally pops up is the idea that certain works are inherently ‘inappropriate’, ‘distasteful’, or should otherwise be avoided purely based on their subject matter.  Usually this revolves around the presence of a so-called ‘controversial’ topic; things like war, abuse or abusive relationships, sexual content, bigotry and minorities (LBGT+ relationships being a big one right now).

Personally I think this is a reductive and pretty silly way to choose your content.  No topic should be off-limits for any kind of media. (With the possible exception of holding off until the target audience has enough life experience and critical thinking skills to handle it.  There is some value in TV rating systems.)  Yes, some concepts will be uncomfortable to confront, but they are part of life and trying to keep them out of mainstream art simply stifles the valuable real-world discussions and conversations they might spark.

What we should be looking for is how a work handles the concepts it chooses to use.  There’s a world of difference between presenting or commenting on a controversial topic as part of a work, and misrepresenting or tacitly condoning inappropriate behaviour through sloppy (or worse, intentional) presentation choices.  The accuracy of research and portrayals, use of sensitivity and tact, consideration for the audience and overall tone with which a topic is framed are much more worthy of consideration than simply being offended that the idea exists in media at all.

‘Bad’ Art, ‘Good’ People and Vice Versa

I think it’s important to remember that our content creators are, well, people.  They’re going to have their own weird taste preferences, personal biases and odd worldviews that will sometimes show through in their output. They’re also going make mistakes - after all, to err is human.  Unfortunately, in the creative pool you can also find some genuine bigots, egotists, agenda-pushers, abusers and exploitative profiteers who don’t care about the damage their work might be doing.

It can be discomfiting to notice potentially negative subtext in the work or actions of a creator you like, and upsetting to realise that a work you love is the product of a person who you can’t in good conscience support.  Which of course leads to the discussion of art, artists, whether they can be separated and what to do when things go wrong.

Obviously I’m going to be talking primarily about the ethical/moral side of things, as I think most of us are willing to forgive the occasional technical flub, production nightmare or drop in outward quality from creators we otherwise enjoy.

It can also be a touchy subject so I’d like to reiterate that this is just an explanation of my personal philosophy.  My approach isn’t the only way and I won’t say you’re wrong for taking a different stance or choosing to stay out of it entirely.  

‘Bad’ art from an apparently ‘Good’ person In general, when it comes to apparent bad behaviour or negative subtext from otherwise decent creators, I favour the application of Hanlon’s Razor.

Hanlon’s Razor Never attribute to malice that which can be adequately explained by incompetence - at least not the first time.

Art is a subjective medium, with multiple readings and interpretations being possible from the same piece.  It’s definitely possible for an author to lack the  awareness or experience needed to notice when unintended implications or alternate readings have crept into their work.  Sensitive topics are tricky to handle at the best of times and seemingly harmless edits or innocuous creative choices can stack into subtly nastier tonal shifts. Similarly, being a good creator doesn’t automatically make them good at PR or talking to fans - it’s easy to get put on the spot or to not realise the connotations of their phrasing and how it may have come across.   Of course this still means someone messed up, and it’s totally reasonable to call them out for ineptness, but I’d take an unfortunate accident over malicious intent any day.

Then there are times when the negative subtext is a lot less unintentional.  In that case I think it’s important to make the distinction between creator sentiment and the sentiment of the work, character or their production team (if collaborating) before making a judgement on them as an individual.  For example, the presence of casual bigotry might be justified in historical piece that’s attempting to accurately portray the culture of the time, and a creator/actor might write/portray a protagonist with biases and proclivities that they personally disagree with for the sake of a more compelling story.  The presence of a worldview within a work doesn’t automatically translate to the opinion of it’s creator.

Similarly, when considering a problematic production or team it’s worth acknowledging which positions hold creative power, if every member is complicit and why a dissenting individual might stay silent; whether out of contractual obligation, a desire not to throw colleagues under the bus or just because they don’t have the financial security to risk rocking the boat or walking away from the role.   It’s important to figure out who the buck stops with before we start pointing fingers.

Overall, I don’t think there’s much value in passing judgement on an artist for the troublesome content in a single work.  You’ll get more mileage and a fairer assessment from looking holistically across their collection and personal/private channels for telling patterns of subtexts and behaviours.  For the most part I prefer to offer the benefit of the doubt until there’s enough supporting evidence or they do something to definitively out themselves.  Speculation fuelled witch-hunts are no fun for anybody.

‘Good’ art from ‘Bad’ people Exactly what defines a ‘bad’ creator will vary (there’s a reason I’ve been putting the terms in inverted commas).  Whether it’s a disagreement with a key opinion/ creative philosophy/ method, that they’ve done something actually heinous/ illegal, or anywhere in between, enjoying a work while being in conflict with the creator can be a difficult situation to reconcile.  Personally I think there's power to the Death of the Author argument in these cases:

Death of the Author An author's intentions and biographical facts (political views, religion, race etc.) should hold no special weight in determining an interpretation of their writing.

If you’ve found value or enjoyment in a work then you’re well within your rights to enjoy the work on those grounds, even if the message you’ve personally taken from it runs counter to the original author’s opinions or intentions.  

It’s also important to remember that a creator’s personal and/or moral failings don’t retroactively invalidate their skill and achievements in their field.   It’s possible for a person to continue offering valuable insights, observations and lessons on their chosen speciality in spite of their other behaviour or stances.  Their work can have value in isolation, although it may be worth taking the information with a grain of salt when it comes to possible biases.

This becomes a little harder when the disagreeable sentiments bleed directly into their creations but, again, there’s no reason why you can’t decide that the strengths of a work are worth looking at even if they take some squinting past uncomfortable elements to appreciate.

The question should never be ‘can I still enjoy the art?’ because that answer is always yes - if you liked it before learning about the artist then you’re allowed to keep doing so afterwards.  The new context may add caveats to the discussion but it doesn’t demerit the existing positive aspects.

However, Death of the Author runs into problems when the creator is still alive.  If the artist is out of the picture then you can engage freely without any financial support or publicity going back to them.  When they’re still around the question becomes ‘do I still feel comfortable supporting them?’ This is particularly relevant when it comes to online creators, as just interacting with their content can generate passive ad revenue, increase view counts and contribute to algorithm boosts.

I honestly don’t think there’s any one answer to this particular question.  It all comes down to a personal case-by-case judgement; weighing the severity of the conflict against how much you value their work and, in the case of creative teams, whether you think their colleagues are worth supporting despite them.  Even if you decide to pull back there are soft options before going for a full boycott; using ad-block to limit passive financial contributions, buying physical media second-hand or lending/borrowing hard copies to avoid generating any new purchases.

There are creators that I disagree with politically but continue to enjoy because their stance isn’t especially harmful or is relatively minor compared to the value of their work.  There are creators who I no longer want to support but whose pieces I like enough that I don’t regret having purchased from them in the past.  On the other hand, there’s a creative team whose content I adore in isolation but who I’ve had to drop entirely after their leader was outed as an emotionally manipulative office bully.  Where someone else would draw that line comes down to their own personal standards, and it wouldn’t surprise me if another person took a completely different approach.

Don’t be a Jerk

I feel like this should go without saying.  Rational discussion is great.  Being able to have a critical discourse - even one that’s focused on the more negative sides of a work - is wonderful.  Opinions are fun.

However, the thing with opinions is that a lot of them differ.  We aren’t always going to sync up and there are times when you shouldn’t, and won’t be able to, force someone to agree.  In that case, please don’t attack them over it.  You don’t have to like or respect their views but some basic civility would be appreciated.  You’re trying to have a conversation, not win a catfight.  Condescension, derision, high-horsing, ad hominem and otherwise getting personal doesn’t tend to win many friends or endear them to your perspective.   And to the rare few who go so far as to threaten or harass fans, creators and their families; that’s an awful, completely unnecessary, out of line thing to do. (Seriously, never do this, it won’t help and just makes you look crazy.  Also, it can be considered criminal behaviour.)

It’s also important to know when to let things go.  You’re not always going to be able to turn the tide and constantly chasing the argument, stirring the pot and fighting waves of push-back eventually reaches a point of diminishing returns.  No matter how important the issue is there’ll be times when you’re just screaming into the void.  The best you can do is make your peace, say your piece and take your leave.  After all it’s not the school playground.  And unlike the playground, we’re not obliged to stick around.

Value Judgements: It’s Good to Examine Your Tastes

At the end of the day I think you get more mileage from reaching an opinion based on a value judgement of a work’s positive and negative sides than you do from just bandwagoning into blind adoration or hate.  ‘Perfect’ and ‘Unsanctionable’ aren’t binary boxes - they’re points on a scale, and figuring out where you stand on a piece can be a useful mental exercise.  Even if your opinion ends up matching the general consensus, at least you know how you got there and can defend yourself if challenged.  

If nothing else this kind of thing can help you figure out what elements you like, dislike and prioritise in media, and where your personal boundaries lie in regard to different issues.

Still, even after all this there are plenty more factors that determine whether or not you’ll enjoy something.  I’ve dropped way more pieces for not being to my subjective liking than I have due to technical or ethical flaws.  Your tastes are your own, and if needed you can stop the conversation at ‘it’s just not my thing’.

In the end there’s no ‘correct’ way to be a fan of something.  We’re all just here to have fun.  So try not to be an ass when you run across someone who does things differently.

You left

I can only write about things when they've hurt me or they matter to me. So I didn't want to write about you. because then I'd have to acknowledge that you hurt me and for some reason you still matter to me. I didn't want to reduce you to just another sad piece that I wrote. I didn't want the only reflection of you to be words trapped on a page. I wanted to preserve the positives that I have left of you in my memories so that maybe I wouldn't grow to hate you for what you did to me. I also didn't want to accept that you have impacted my life more than I care to admit and now I can't deny it because my feelings are no longer just in my head. They've been transferred to my heart, onto my tongue and out of my lips. So now they're real. And the reality that you left me is real. You left me. Like everyone else you left. And you promised me you wouldn't. You said I was worth the wait. You said I was worth your time and the distance between us and your love and you left. And it was stupid of me to be so surprised at that since you are from California so I don't know why I expected you to be able to stand the rain. And you're not even the first person to break my heart. So I should be used to this pain. It shouldn't hurt this much but for some reason it still does. Maybe because you warped my mind and sense of reality more than any other experience. This was different. Because you were different. We were supposed to be different. I was supposed to be done with niggas playing games and re-nigging on their promises and responsibilities. I opened up to you, like I hadn't before. I told you things that I don't talk about with other people. I told you about my dad and how he left me and how that made me feel like I wasn't worthy of love. I told you how he was inconsistently present and tried to exchange his presence for presents but that my love language was quality time. I told you how I hadn't had enough quality time with him before he tried to come back into my life and act like he'd been there the whole time, and how it was unfair of him to demand respect and obedience and then when he received opposition play the "i'm your father, honour your parents" card when he'd only played at playing that position in my life. And then had the audacity to form his lips to talk about how my mother was raising me when he hadn't been there to provide an alternative. My mother always said that beggars can't be choosers and I say absent fathers can't demand results from a child they barely put into. I told you how I'd cried night after night after night but had just gotten used to dealing with the disappointment because by that point I'd gone 19 years with minimal support and I could keep on going without him if I had to. I told you how my relationship with him not only affected me but how I see my world. How I see men. How I see God. Unreliable and distant. Demanding and evasive. Irresponsible and invisible. I told you that the reason that I try to hold on to things so tightly is because I'm terrified that if I don't they'll leave me. And not come back. And I'll be left alone to drown in the thoughts of my inadequacy. And even after I told you all these things and you said you'd never be like him. That you loved me and promised to fight for me. For us. You left. But even though you leaving hurts I understand. I stumbled into your life unexpectedly. You found me before you found yourself. And you weren't mature enough to multitask our development as individuals along side our development together. So you made the tough decision to work on yourself first. To be better, for me. For us. For our relationship. And when you're ready you'll come back to me. And we'll try again but this time we'll work. Or at least that's what I tell myself, to justify why I'm still sitting, in the same place, that I was, when you left.

VIII. Blessed are the merciful

Chesed is a Hebrew word meaning covenant-love, loving-kindness, and mercy. The word in Greek is eleos, as seen in “Blessed are the merciful for they shall obtain mercy.”

Jesus lifted up outsiders like the Roman centurion, Syro-Phoenician woman, and Samaritans - people who were traditionally seen as excluded from God’s promises and blessings. Jesus displayed a kind of merciful kindness that the self-righteous people of the day would consider unmerited and unworthy. But of all the words and deeds of Jesus left unrecorded, the Gospels made sure to highlight stories of these outsiders to free us of our ego-games of self-worth and tribalism. This chesed he showed others is an invitation for us to be freed from the laws, codes of conduct and thinking that trap us in our society. We may be trapped by the Mosaic Law replaced with Christian legalism, or hustle culture and keeping up with the Joneses, or political allegiances that place the whole world on two sides of a culture or class war. These laws, which are often inflexible, demanding, and hypocritical, are designed to impart blessings and curses, and they fail to bless.

Most people reach adulthood without having received an essential blessing that who they are, outside of performance and comparisons to others, is worthy of love and acceptance. Consumerism, hyper-partisanship, cancel culture, and workaholicism disguised as hustling culture are petty attempts to bless ourselves with approval. In contrast, it is perfectly revealed in the Incarnation that God’s approval is so unmerited that he elects us to sainthood before we are born and declares us beloved children on the basis of faith. The Father was so adamant about showing humanity his chesed, that he became human. In doing so, Jesus brought us back to the original blessing - the incarnational blessing of Genesis 1:31, where “God saw all that he had made [including his created image-bearers] and it was very good.”

This is a foundational affirmation, because there is a near universal human desire to have a different body or have control over the body we have. And a lot of religion is focused on coping with the perceived and actual conflict between our bodily urges and our soulful desires. But this kind of spirituality is immature, because it is very much stuck on the level of denial of the self and “flesh,” and misses the necessity of transitioning the whole self into a deeper level of spirituality, which Dallas Willard calls, “the flow of [Jesus’] eternal kind of life.” Beyond self-denial is actual cleansing: Jesus became enfleshed so that our flesh would become enslaved by the Spirit. Or as Athanasius put it: the Son of God became man so that man might become God. This opposes mind-body dualism, because God wants to bless the whole person, and he gives us his Spirit to bring unity and order between our flesh and spirit, rescuing us from a “body that is subjected to death.” And what is required in this process is chesed, which is his gratuitous and merciful kindness.

Jesus returns to us the blessing of approval Adam had in the Garden, and he does this knowing that we continue to consciously and unconsciously resist the will of our heavenly Father. While unbelievers may desperately try to hid their true selves behind social media posts, or any kind of avenue to curate their image to others, we should pray for his mercy daily, because we’re confident in the throne of grace. We know that his gospel condemns our egos (or our objectified sense of self) but justifies our naked self, which is the divine image being reclaimed in living worship. Through faith, our insecurities fade as we receive the continual offering of God’s essential blessing, which is his approving and in-dwelling presence. There is no more appropriate word to punctuate this reality, then Jesus calling the Spirit, “the advocate.”

We live in a universe of God’s “chesed,” and so all that should make sense to us is showing merciful kindness to everyone, especially the outsider, the unredeemable, and the unworthy, or “Samaritians” of society. When we see with increasing clarity our own unfaithfulness, the truth of God’s loyalty is humbling and fills us gratitude. We return our attention to his presence like daily bread and comfort ourselves with his daily mercies. Just like how our bodies crave what we habitually eat, the mercy of God becomes a hunger for justice (more broadly, righteousness, from the word dikaiosuné), which is not a retributive justice, but restorative. It’s the justice of the Good Samaritan and the Prodigal Son’s father- a justice that relies on mercy, which the world hates because it’s dangerously inclusive and unifying. Peacemaking disrupts hierarchies that need constant conflict to sustain themselves. The rule of the world is one of possession and power, but the rule of God is one of gentleness and forgiveness. God loves cancelling debts. It humbles God, because debts are a form of power over others. And his humility is contagious. Living in God’s kingdom, under his rule, puts us on the path of powerlessness. When sued for our shirt, we hand over our coat as well, so that through our sacrifices and mercy, we may “sow peace,” and reap a righteous harvest. But being merciful is like carrying a cross. It’s painful, and it puts us in desperate need of an unbreakable foundation to stand upon- a covenantal mercy, an enduring love that can alway restore, heal, and give us confidence. The chesed of his enveloping and in-dwelling advocacy empowers us in powerlessness, and sets us apart from our cultures expressions of power and control, which are illusions. We are free to be powerless- to stop arguing, defending ourselves, and judging others.

If we are to become the kind of merciful person God blesses, then we have to overcome tit for tat interactions that tempt us to become angry over trivial interactions. We should also examine our black and white thinking when the truth is more complicated, which tempts us to be sectarian in our thinking (“God only hears me”). We need to be trained to respond to others with Christ-like impulses and not with the worldly impulse to punish and give people what they “deserve.” But how do we overcome these things? As Ronald Rolheiser has written, “When we act like God, we get to feel like God. Conversely, when we are petty, we get to feel petty. There is a clear cause and effect here: when we do bighearted things, we get to feel bighearted; and when we do small-hearted things, we get to feel small.” The continual challenge we face is: how do we deal with tensions caused by others, by their threatening differences and opposing worldviews, by a co-worker’s annoyances, or by a family member’s slights? We must submerse these tensions in the knowledge of the countless ways that God has shown us mercy. We receive the Bread enough times that we become that bread for others; a restorative presence - a peacemaker, merciful and forgiving. Richard Rohr has written, “We do not attain anything by our own holiness but by ten thousand surrenders to mercy. A lifetime of received forgiveness allows us to become mercy: that’s the Beatitude. We become what we receive, what we allow into our hearts.”

Until we are stripped down to a place of spiritual poverty (ptóchos) - fully convinced from lived experience that we cannot be the source of our own blessing, then we will not see the absolute necessity of God’s merciful kindness and covenant-love. These questions must be resolved in our hearts: if our earthly tribes are enough for us, then why should we sacrifice that allegiance to commit to a church family? If the wisdom of our families and cultures feels like satisfactory direction for our lives, then why turn away from that direction to submit to discipleship? These are the kinds of spoken and unconscious questions that define spiritual immaturity. But falling into a place of spiritual poverty (where we lack the resources to be self-sufficient) can direct us along a path that relies on God’s essential blessing of covenant-love. To be poor in spirit means that we do not feel enriched by our own efforts to bless ourselves with comfort, strength, and worthiness. That’s the paradigm of the beatitudes: if God is for us, then who can be against us? If we live in a reality defined by God’s chesed; a reality soaked into our very flesh, as we allow the Spirit to train our impulses to be righteous- then all that will make sense to us is being merciful to others.

To embody God’s merciful kindness is to bless others, and we do that through prayer and mindfulness. The tensions caused by others’ weaknesses and Otherness is absorbed into His indwelling and merciful presence. Sometimes, we feel trapped by anger and judgment over how someone has wronged us, and all we can do is pray to be healed of that anger, and then turn our focus to who God is and the reality of his presence in our lives. It is the calm and catharsis of prayer, solitude and meditation that enable us to stop conflicts in their tracks and begin reconciling with those who hurt us. Mindfulness allows us to be watchful of our reckless words and not returning insult for insult. It helps deny the impulse to withhold forgiveness and embrace spite. “See to it then that the light within you is not darkness,” for “everyone will have to give account on the day of judgment for every empty word they have spoken.” You would never know that we are saints by how some of us speak to those we are annoyed and hurt by, because in fact, we are not yet set apart from the rule and ways of the world. But by God’s mercy, we will be, if we are watchful of our thoughts, so that we can “keep a tight reign on our tongue.” Anyone who thinks this is optional has deceived themselves, “and their religion is worthless.”

Finding mercy is perhaps the entire point of the gospel: “Let us then approach God’s throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.” ‭(Hebrews‬ ‭4:16‬) It is in our time of need, in difficulties and tiredness, where our patience runs short; when we seek division and retribution instead of unity and restoration, and when we hold on to records of wrongs, instead of forgiving others like the Lord forgave us. Failing to be merciful to others exposes our disconnect with God’s heart. We haven’t grasped the gospel if we still hold on to the impulse to curse our enemies, instead of bless them. But we can be as merciful as Jesus, if God’s loyalty to us and gratuitous kindness is our reality, and we are affirmed by it daily through fellowship with our Advocate. In allowing that mercy to overflow to others, we will receive the blessed state of feeling the bigheartedness of our Heavenly Father. This was pointed out by the apostle John when he said, “But if anyone obeys his word, God’s love is truly made complete in them.“ Where there is a lack of love in all its expressions, like patience and mercy, there will be a lack of completeness in seeing, understanding, and experiencing God’s love.

God’s mercy is conditional, in that, we can’t perceive it, if we are hard-hearted and closed minded, prejudiced and unmerciful. We live in a benevolent universe shaped, held, and cherished by the Lord. This dynamic is described in scripture as chesed/eleos, and we will comprehend this reality, even through suffering and hardship, as a result of fellowshipping with the Spirit. “For love creates a likeness between that which loves and that which is loved,” as John of the Cross wrote. Simply put, we become what we love.

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A little earlier I got really upset because I know several of my friends are being witchhunted for being friends with me and got the urge to start apologizing and begging for people to think I’m not evil. I made a post apologizing for how I acted after Max & I posted about being radical feminist. A few of my friends reached out to me to talk about it (thank you so much) and I decided to try to come at this from a way more self-empathetic angle.

I usually kind of brush off what happened after we made our post to be a joke. “Yeah lol all my friends said they wanted me to die and someone tried to convince me they were going to my mom’s house to kill her but she lives on a boat.” Hilarious. It’s hard for me to talk about what happened because of how upsetting and crazymaking it was. Max, who openly expressed on her blog how shitty it was for her, was accused of being an emotionally manipulative abuser and I’m pretty sure the same thing will happen about this post.

On some circles on this site I’m often framed as this incredibly evil woman. It’s not true. I’m not going to beg you not to think that, I’m just going to openly state it as a lie and a male reversal. I definitely “acted crazy” (openly displayed trauma responses) both in public and in private. I messaged people who had posted about me and initiated conflict with them. I misremembered facts, then when confronted with that, immediately apologized, amended my statements, and have stuck to that. There are rumors about Max & I that are ludicrous: she was never really trans/faked her transition and we were just scamming transwomen with ZP the entire time, I believe Joseph Mengele created trans people/all trans people are nazis, that I’m a serial abuser of “underage transmen” or a cult leader. It’s absolutely wild. But these weren’t the things that got me labeled evil & worth of starving to death to the streets, they were just fuel on the fire.

The thing that got me labeled a TERF (worthy of death) was naming male violence. It was discovering politics that allowed me to name the 20+ years of sexual abuse from men and the ~8 total years of sexual abuse & 4 years of steadily escalating emotional/physical/sexual abuse from transwomen as male violence. It was Max & I getting tired of seeing our female friends sexually & emotionally abused by transwomen. It was watching a serial rapist man who had expressed interest in nail polish a few times suddenly vocally identifying as a twoc to deflect being outed as a rapist - and it working. It was watching transwoman figurehead after figurehead being outed as a pedophile, rapist, sexual or emotional abuser & it being excused and deflected because they were transwomen.

Making a carefully worded, diplomatic post about the reality of sex based oppression and male violence still being relevant in the radical queer community resulted in a lot of evil things. It resulted in many, many messages telling me to kill myself, insulting my appearance, insulting my genitals, denying that I was raped/abused, telling me I deserved rape/abuse, rape threats, death threats, & gendered insults. I don’t know how many. I deleted anywhere between 5 - 20, sometimes more if a post was going around, every day for months.There was one specific exchange in which someone did their best to convince me that they had my mom’s address and they were driving to her house to kill her because I was a TERF. I knew they were lying because my mom lives on a boat, and it was pretty stupid of them to continue insisting I was lying after I said that, but what if she didn’t live on a boat? What if I hadn’t known they were just trying to terrorize me and make me think they were going to kill my mom instead of, you know, actually killing my mom? There was one specific pretty pornographic exchange in which someone sent a 5+ part graphic message about how they were going to physically & sexually torture me and then when I was begging for death only kill me after I had said that “trans women are women and beautiful and valid” and meant it.

It resulted in regular accusations that other people anonymously telling me their stories of abuse & rape from transwomen were me making things up for attention & my transmisogynistic agenda. There was relentless public mocking of my trauma, appearance, word choices, brain damage/intelligence level, & boundaries by transwomen, which was really hard for me to handle in a diplomatic and calm way due to the multiple years of intense trauma of being treated that way by a transwoman I was trapped in an abusive relationship with.

When I made mistakes and acted crazy (displayed trauma responses) in ways that affected and upset other people, as soon as I was done acting crazy (having a trauma response), I immediately apologized, took responsibility for my actions, and reiterated that I was working really hard on not doing this anymore. And you know what? It’s working. I’m in recovery. Did any one who sent me any of these messages or said these things about me apologize or try to stop this behavior? No, not that I know of. If you’re going to call someone evil in this situation, why is it me?

I recently read Witchcraze: A New History of the European Witch Hunts and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. Obviously, I was not physically and sexually tortured and then tied to a stake and burned alive (or after strangling, if they were feeling generous), but the parallels are there - the pressure from patriarchal forces to confess, just admit you’re an evil woman, anything to try to make that pressure stop. The intentional destruction of women’s knowledge and women’s communities because of the threat to males. Women’s livelihoods being used as pawns in male games. Women who haven’t been branded witches yet seeing what happens to women who are and understanding that it could happen to them just as easily if they step out of line.

I am not an evil woman. I am not a bad person. I am a flawed, traumatized woman doing my best to help other women with what I have. I am committed to self improvement, self awareness, nuance, and truth. I don’t want to beg for your forgiveness anymore or continue validating the part of me that says I really am evil and I did deserve all of this I’ve said and all of the things in this post I haven’t said. I understand that I will still be condemned, but I just wanted to explain what you are justifying & excusing when you condemn me.

Flame rounds lets us fulfil our yearning passion to be Frank Skinner, taking on his role as Judge, Jury, and Executioner in Room 101. We will be presenting a case for a particular Trope/Character/Item/UI element that pisses us off and then trying to justify whether this thing should go into room 101 (get flame rounded?) Richie: And following on from last Flame Rounds, round two is all Cunzy1 1's  Cunzy1 1: Right this one might need a bit of explaining, I'd like to flames round (verb?) the grass and psychic Pokémon Exeggcute. Even if you've got only a passing familiarity with Pokémon you'll be aware that most of them are based on animals, plants, myths or household objects. Exeggcute is an egg cluster Pokémon made up of six egg-like creatures with faces. However, it's not just the whole clutch I want to flames round, specifically, it's the one which has a cracked shell. I don't like the way it's brain(?), yolk(?) is just exposed like that. Fucking disturbing dude. And each Exeggcute appears to have one as this camera trap photo shows: Exeggfuckinggross more like Richie: Right first, we need to address the elephant in the room, despite their misleading name they are not eggs, they are seeds (hence the Grass typing). That being said, I wont immediately disqualify you on grounds of incorrect reasoning here... yet. However, since they all look like that, are just meant to look like that? Its not hurting them, It may even be a good thing for it to expose itself.... Why do you want to hurt it so bad? Cunzy1 1: Explain the fucking psychic typing then? That's their brain capable of psychic waves and for the one whose head/face is broken it's yolk/brain is just out there. Open to the elements. When it rains it gets wet. You might accidentally throw a berry in there. Or touch it. It's like eyes. You shouldn't touch/lick eyes or exposed psychic brains. Especially in a fight. Pikachu used thundershock. Oh shit Pikachu, you gave 1/6 of Exeggcute permanent brain damage now. Some lightning got in the brain and now it can't taste fish or turn left.   Richie:But there are a plethora of disturbing/disgusting ones out there: The Vanillish lineage literally all of their faces/head can melt, Spoink's heart will stop beating if it ever stops hopping, and don't get me started on the ghosts! Why is a cracked seedcase more worthy of elimination than the bounty of nightmarish Pokemon existences that are out there? Cunzy1 1: Because those all make sense. This one is because someone got bored of drawing eggs with faces so drew a cracked one and now every Exeggcute out there has to live with being able to taste the wind through their brain. I bet it's this one that turns into the scary mank face in Alolan Exeggutor. Oh Christ. Look at that. It's simple. It ain't right. It looks like a Ditto trying to do a Gulpin that had a stroke halfway through. It looks like one of those too inbred dog breeds where the brain falls out the back of the skull. This is body horror. In a kid's game (it's not just for kids).  Richie: Right this is a tough one! So I wondered if perhaps there was an official reason for "the exposed brain", and as with most pokemon origins, their stories can take you on a rabbithole journey, and it seems Exeggcute is steeped in Yokai lore... Exeggcute/Exeggutor seem to have taken their inspiration from a subset of Yokai which are plants that take on human Features:   Bashō no sei - Japanese banana spirit Said to be a spirit that haunts banana groves, and takes the form of a human face to scare people near by. The most hilarious part of all this is it is also said if a woman walks by at dusk she will get pregnant... So what forms are the bananas taking? Pretty safe to say unlikely to be the origin of Exeggcute.  Ninmenju/Jinmenju - Human Face Tree This one seems to be the money for the Exeggcute line and needs a fucking trigger warning! Jinmenju trees are said to have human faces for fruit, they are constantly laughing, when one laughs too hard it falls to the ground.  The fruit has a sweet/sour taste. It is said that the seed also has a human face. I mean this is all Nightmare fuel, far beyond that of that little Exeggcute you hate so much showing off it's endosperm. And as nice as it is to know the origin of where it comes from, I am now leaning towards Flame rounding all Exeggutes, Exeggutors and Alolan forms!  Beyond this I wondered if there was any reasoning from the Pokedex for the cracked exeggcute, and there are a couple off references over the generations.  Yellow States: The heads attract each other and spin around. There must be 6 heads for it to maintain balance. This makes me sad, we can just flame round one then... as we might just tip the rest of them over the edge.... Silver States: The shell is very durable. Even if it cracks, it can survive without spilling the contents. "Spill" Ugh that is the worst word to use, and makes me think liquid/yolk again... but again I'm reminded that this is just a seed inside, and probably just a yellow endosperm. Ruby/Sapphire States: It consists of six 'eggs' that care for each other. The eggs attract each other and spin around. When cracks increasingly appear, it is close to evolution. This provide the the most compelling argument that these little guys should be left alone, in all actuality the little mingin' exposed brain is gonna be the main dude evolving to become Exeggutor, though its really worth pulling on that thread, as it's one of these Pokemon which are separate Pokemon then evolve to become one gestalt bigger one (Magnemite/ Metagross etc). With this in mind, I'm sorry, but I cant flame round Exeggcute for super effective damage, as much as it looks like his brain may be exposed, does this justify ending that poor little cracked head guys existence? How can we flame round him! I mean he is the guy that is closest to evolving, if you flame round him do you not stop it evolving completely? If you separate it from he other 5 are they just going to cave into suicidal depression?  I'm also fairly confident that that in the Pokemon universe even if his brain was exposed it wouldn't cause damage in the same way (i.e. no lasting damage, and even if there was, a super potion or a nurse joy just fixes that right up anyways).  However much this causes your OCD to flare up, when you start to apply actual biology to Pokemon you'll get so many triggers.  For instance one that gets me is, that red bit in the chest of Gardevoir/Gallade:  Assuming it goes all the way through, Imagine grabbing ahold of it and wobbling it about, surely that would generate a feeling akin to having your ribcage pried apart? How can it sleep with the constant fear of turning over? In consolation for this however I will give you a hat: 

http://www.thatguys.co.uk/2019/02/flame-rounds-exeggcute-with-exposed.html

THE 1975 - LOVE IT IF WE MADE IT [4.46] Get out your popcorn, it's time for another controversial One Nine Seven Five single...

Will Adams: What? It's just an ordinary The 1975 s- *reads lyrics* OH MY GOODNESS! [3]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: Matt Healy yelling Hot Takes™ in a wind tunnel as a warmed over INXS track plays is weirdly compelling, but not quite good. [5]

Claire Biddles: If anyone else tried this zeitgeist-quotes lyrical trick (it's barely a trick!) I would hate it, but a) I'm hugely predisposed to The 1975; and b) their inherent miraculousness somehow makes them the exception to every rule. The lyric tries to hold the enormity of the world and so does the music -- each electronic whoosh and whizz is a digital overspill from the heady whole, like even something this maximalist and ambitious isn't quite enough for them. [10]

Iain Mew: The sound is a great expansion of the omnivorous approach of the last album. Taking a beautiful twinkle and one shiny happy phrase and setting upon them with echo, reflections and a lot of noise, its sonic trip represents the overload of modernity in the compelling way that the lyrics resolutely don't. Maybe it's because I've been extremely online since way before The 1975 was a thing, but I'm already familiar with a great stream of context-free sourness and nonsense, and I'd rather not encounter any replications of it. If you're singing "poison me daddy" and "fuck your feelings" as slogans for satire, you're still singing "poison me daddy" and "fuck your feelings" as slogans. It's on a level with someone seeking out the most awful tweets to quote tweet them for clowning purposes, at best. [3]

Alfred Soto: Have these loudmouths gone and interpolated The Blue Nile? Sounds like it. "The Downtown Lights" relied on a steady pulse to put over its lovelorn message; "Love It If We Made It" relies on "The Downtown Lights" to pull a con job on fans born after 1985. I mean, why is this mix so crowded? [5]

Eleanor Graham: The 1975's music has this quality of dancing around your own mind in the stale air of Tory safe-seat mid-late teenhood in an endless cycle of UCAS and grey skies and girls and boys and club toilets with peeling paint. I don't expect anyone to be able to relate to that, but please don't equate my specificity with cosy familiarity. I'm talking about "Robbers" cutting straight to the core of everything that hurts about growing up within its first 30 seconds. Uncomfortable? Oh, god yeah! But when something so closely resembles the inside of your head, it is churlish to deny that you're a fan. All of this goes to say: I am incapable of being objective about "Love It If We Made It." Because it is essentially a dystopian "Robbers," with the same yearning indie thrum and a new urgency; because, well, you know, everything's decaying; because aren't we all thinking about the death of the republic on some level at all times, but don't we also need bangers? Of course, we should be cynical about pop songs that make half-hearted jabs at the administration and reference the deaths of children, which both 1975 singles have now done. In its defence, this one at least makes the statements "I moved on her like a bitch" and "thank you, Kanye, very cool" sound terrifying and surreal enough to remind me that "terrifying" and "surreal" should not have become platitudes. Is it toothless? Is it exploitative? Or will it be read in twenty years simply as addressing the elephant in the room? They've thrown the chorus in there -- raw, open, pleading, trailing off like a comet in the night sky -- to make all of those questions feel inconsequential. [8]

Juan F. Carruyo: A shocker in gloomtown, the song starts with a bang and it never lets up, swallowing everything in its path. The moody production suits the enveloping soundscape and it's worthy of mentioning how the bass plays against the keys in the refrain. By the time the song ends, it feels like this is the soundtrack for the rapture. [8]

Edward Okulicz: I'm massively fond of the 1975, but this is puddle-deep where it's trying to be ~meaningful~ and ~edgy~ and ~zeitgeisty~ and it's a hookless joy after the previous single's buzzy earworm. Big-name artists probably think they've earned the right to release indulgences, but we shouldn't pretend singles like this are anything more. [2]

Will Rivitz: Leave it to The 1975 to build off an earth-shatteringly good teaser single with a follow-up nearly as bad as the first was good. Look, I'm all for politically conscious songwriting, but these lyrics could have been written by any of the interchangeable and smugly ineffective liberal Facebook pages my high school friends repost material from. I can overlook the awful lyricism of "Give Yourself A Try" ("Like context in a modern debate, I just took it out," eurgh) because a) it's only occasional and b) is utterly drowned out by an ecstasy of electric guitars, but here Matty Healy's slacktivist garbage piles are given main billing. One point for the Lil Peep shoutout, one point for the glorious jangles after the second chorus reined in too soon in favor of a bridge that is somehow worse than the verses, and absolutely nothing else. [2]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: I have to give credit where credit is due: this is an evil song that utilizes its structure as a means to elevate and justify its conceptual gambit. Matt Healy reads off a list of provocative phrases that act as a simulacrum of the discouraging news headlines, ironic shitposts and self-impressed hot takes that crowd numerous corners of the internet. The pulsating beat and claustrophobic mix amplify that particular dread, and the swirling harp is the only sound that feels unstuck from it all. It hints at a hope that is later projected in the chorus, but it turns out to be nothing more than a red herring. I don't expect Healy to provide answers -- I'd argue that he took the more effective route in providing a moment of release over anything concrete -- but I don't believe him at all when he says he'd "love it if we made it." This is the sort of dude who finds joy in crassly exploiting the tragedy of others for the sake of art, and it finds its roots in how he decided on the band's name. When the chorus finally breaks free from the monotony, his voice has a smugly arrogant tone that snaps everything into place: Healy is eager to be the source of relief for the trigger warning-necessary lyrics that he doled out in the first place. He can only be a savior for the bullshit he pushes on you, and he'll cover it up by touting we instead of I. As a political statement, this has virtually no worth. As a piece of music, the bridge makes exceedingly clear that this is just an edgy "We Didn't Start The Fire." As a depiction of narcissistic manipulation, this is excellent -- perhaps the best of the year. [0]

Vikram Joseph: Even without the viral billboard advertising campaign, "Love It If We Made It" is much larger than life, but offsets its pretensions with self-aware hyperbole and a streak of pitch-black humour. The genuine venom towards a society that permits Donald Trump and "a beach of drowning three year olds" is undercut by an awareness that we're all tied up in this mess -- they can get away with railing against modern existence without sounding aloof or curmudgeonly, because they're so self-evidently part of it, and, to some extent, in love with it too. The chorus is equal parts earnest optimism and grim humour, which just about epitomises their brand. There have been a lot of "We Didn't Start The Fire" comparisons, but it actually makes me think more of a half-speed, tongue-in-cheek "Ignoreland"; The 1975 feel better having screamed, don't you? [8]

Lauren Gilbert: See, I wrote an entire blurb about how this is "New Americana" v. 2018, and then promptly deleted it to write about what it means for modernity to have failed us. Spoiler alert: Modernity has not failed us, but the specific iteration of modernity of which Healy writes is certainly Not Great. Capital M Modernity is more (and less) than drugs and borders and Trump. At the risk of sounding like the pedantic graduate student I am, modernity is characterized by industrialization, market economies, nation states, individuality, and secularism (surely not the "Jesus save us!" Healy mentions). Healy's Modernity-as-characterized-by-this-song is not that. He's writing about the dissatisfactions of a left-leaning person in the Trump/May/dear-god-why-is-Boris-Johnson-still-around era, a modernity grounded in the specific sociocultural norms and events that shaped how certain rich English-speaking countries experienced in 2018. And if we consider that particular experience of modernity as the only possibility we have, it's pretty easy to conclude "modernity has failed us" and write a "We Didn't Start The Fire" of terrible things. And I'll give Healy some credit; "Love It If We Made It" does sound and feel like living in twenty-fucking-eighteen. But modernity the concept does not imply that we must live in our specific instance of modernity; we do not have to accept Trump and income inequality and in-the-future-everyone-will-be-famous-for-fifteen-minutes Modernity. And more than that, that specific (miserable) modernity is not even the only modernity happening right now. Around the world, people are living longer, healthier lives; fewer people live in extreme poverty; there are fewer wars. Healy's Modernity may feel like a prison, where we are trapped forever in endless cars on endless roads to places we don't want to go, but it is not the only game in town. I (and many others) am alive today because of modern(ity) medicine & honestly, I'll take Donald Trump and Brexit and "thank you, Kanye, very cool" as the price of being alive. Perhaps it's too much to ask for a band known for its cynicism to consider a fuller context, and the very real positives in the world we live in, but hey, why give themselves a try? [4]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox ]

Week 6: The Slippery Slope to the Depths of My Depravity

Scholtz, F. (2017). Leadership principles and practices lecture slides: Week 6. Monash South Africa.

The world doesn't come in black and white, and often our actions and the sum total of our measure is leaning towards one side of the scale, but it is never completely tipped. The unfortunate truth is that one you get hurt or get your finger burnt, you withdraw, like an anemone. When you don’t have social support, and when you don’t make relational engagement a priority, you will always end up compromising people – because you don’t view them as people, they become obstacles, liabilities, dangers, or slave drivers. As you dehumanise them, you become more and more okay with what you’re doing. Often the road to destruction is laced with both good intention and justified reasoning.

It is hard, but also vitally necessary to be able to look yourself in the mirror, to take stock of the destructive habits you have, decisions you’ve made and to first have hope for a better future, and secondly to acknowledge that it is who you are now.

Followership doesn’t work without ownership, and this can be very difficult because sometimes there isn’t space made for adequate ownership.

There exists what is referred to as the “Toxic Triangle”, and I know I must be wary in order to guard against all of these. I know that I have the capacity for great evil and great harm to other people. I know that I can make decisions that could tear people apart, and it is exactly because I am aware of this capacity that I can better combat it. Woe to those that do not acknowledge this, for often you will be most ignorant in the wake of the destruction you have caused. Often times in relationships, our greatest damages are caused when we STOP paying attention, for to love is to pay attention, and when we stop and start focusing on ourselves, we bulldoze over others without realising it. I have been the recipient and probably the perpetrator of this more times than is ever necessary!

1.  Destructive Leadership: being self-centred, using persuasion to manipulate people, embracing an ideology of hate (even self-hate), ignoring bad habits and not embracing constant change and growth. I need to remember that what I do is magnified in my followers (I’ve learnt this the hard way). I can’t make bad decisions, propagate good ones and expect people to make good decisions. I need to let my life be an open book where I can live well, driven by hope and hoy and faithfulness, and make that the culture, not distrust and shifty calculated chess games. I need to set my mind on things above, or else I will lose my mind. I need to speak life and not death

2. Susceptible Followers:

I must be careful to not fall into as affirmation seeking trap because I so badly want to be apart of the in crowd, I need to watch that I maintain boundaries and self-esteem, that I don’t let other’s opinions determine my worth or value, and that I don’t make my able to contribute be the decider of my worthiness. I need to not tear myself down to fit in but remain steadfast in who I am, what I have learnt as well as stick to my morals and maintain my maturity that I have fought for. I do no one favours by playing dumb.

I must be careful to not grow cynical, bitter, hard, or pessimistic, I need to constantly surround myself with people that are dreamers, visionaries, people that are kind and that love compassionately, people that I can learn from, and people that embrace change, challenge and justice for all. I need to constantly re-evaluate and keep my values in check, to make sure that I value that which is good, lovely, upbuilding, and worthy, and that I act in a way that places value on those things. I need to watch what I say and how I say it. I need to watch that I don’t let my worth be derived from what I achieve, or how much people like me. Rather, being valuable as a person comes from how you treat your self and others, and how you follow what you believe in. For at the essence and core of the entire universe lies three things, faith, hope, and love. of which the greatest is love. Love is all that counts at the end of the day.

3. Conducive Environments: I must be on my guard and watch for situations and to the best of my ability walk observantly to watch for how situations of fear, instability, insecurity, threats can devolve the most esteemed of persons into tyrants (including myself). When we become scared or hurt or we feel attacked, we often respond in the worst way. I need to remember to be respectful of culture, all the while not compromising. A life of no compromise in morality and ethics is the most difficult thing, but it's what truly matters at the end of the day. Accountability is also important, so as far as I can, I will ask trusted friends and authorities to proofread, for counsel, for perspective and for an opinion. I want to give people the benefit of the doubt without prompting injustice.  

How to deal with or best avoid Destructive Leadership?

As I’ve noted in posts of the previous weeks, there is often a very valid and understandable reason as to why people are the way they are and why they respond the way they do, but it never excuses wrongdoing. I read a story about 3 boiling pots – inside one was placed an egg, in another a potato, and in the third, coffee beans. Once the water had boiled for a while, a father examined the pots with his miserable daughter.  The egg became hard, the potatoes soft, and the coffee, something completely different. The tough situations in life are trying and difficult and can either make us weak, hard or transform us into something incredible, it’s all about our management of difficulties and how we let them shape us. Read the full story here. 

The best style of leadership is to not have one particular style. There are elements of charismatic leadership where you empower people, where you motivate people to the greater good and inspire people, but it has to also be supplemented with a servant leadership that puts others first, and a moral leadership that acts ethically, as well as authentic leadership, so that you inspire them using your head and your heart. When you compromise or become too stuck in one way and start losing sight of the bigger picture, you falter. When you believe too much in your own ability and forget that the measure of a leader is the legacy the leader leads behind, you don’t embrace good followership principles (and I know I am particularly guilty of becoming frustrated with incompetence) but the truth is, there is depth and value that everyone has to offer. As a leader it is your job to make recognise, acknowledge and make space for people (letting them fail and succeed and celebrating both), never forgetting that you never have all the answers and that as soon as you stop being able to learn from everyone and everything, you forfeit your ability to grow as a person. Live graciously, with an open hand and build community, but a community that can send people out and doesn’t cling or manipulate.

I have been guilty in the past of just keeping quiet when my leaders do and say things that I vehemently disagree with. And when I physically could not stand for what they were saying according to my morals and values, I was chastised for my insubordination and my questioning and contempt for their vile treatment of other people was downplayed and ignored. I was easy then and will no longer be. I am finding better ways to cope with injustice and knowing how and when to speak out.

FC 093 ESSAY DRAFT : Is it better to see an exhibit in person?

           It is a truth universally acknowledged that most Cultured people flock together to discuss their perceived meanings in pieces of art they see. A truth that goes hand in hand with this is that those same pretentious flocks are drawn, as if magnetised, to galleries and artist showcases. They like to stand around as they clink champagne glasses and pretend to enjoy the canapes, speculating on what the artist meant to say about this sculpture, or that interpretative dance set to Prince’s “Kiss”. They would rather stand, thoughtfully stroking their beards and “interpreting” at 5 inches away, and brag that they made the trip to do so, when they could just as easily look the work up online, as though physical proximity to the paint, or foot-smelling fibreglass, makes a difference.

           It seems easy to condemn those people. It is. But one must first consider why they are the way they are. To better aid in this line of consideration, it would be helpful to think of this as a nature documentary. There are two classes in this environment, the art world and the casual observers. The art world is ruthless, cold and manipulative – it thrives off connections and controversies more than it does artistic merit. It also boasts a complex ecosystem of mutually benefiting subspecies, and the easiest way to classify them are Artiste, Spectator, and Follower. An Artiste is a creator – someone whose work is on display for the public. This can mean anything from classical painting to post-modern “anti-art”, and is always up for interpretation. Artistes are strange creatures in that their main source of sustenance is also their undoing if not phrased correctly. As such, an Artiste will prey more on the words of a Follower than those of a Spectator, though those of a Spectator will fuel them for longer. Spectators are the influential part of the art world; the critics and patrons – the higher-ups, if you will. Their words make or break an Artiste’s world, and to be worthy of consideration one must constantly and consistently toe the line between creating work solely because it is appealing to the Spectators, and spitting in their faces. Followers are more akin to vultures – they hang onto the Spectators and Artistes, hoping some of their cultural credibility will someday manifest in themselves through some sort of osmosis or black magic. They are often rich, and prefer to accumulate pieces of art and hobnob with the elite to try and further their reputations. All three of these subspecies claim to be the arbiters of art, and none are more egregious in their claims of this as the Spectators. They see it as their profession, nay, their obligation to tell the casual observers what is and isn’t worth seeing in person in museums, and if the casual observer disagrees then they just lack the capacity to Understand The Poet’s Soul. This is entirely based on their reasoning that they specialised in this at university, trust them, they know best. They absolutely do not. It is no one’s right to classify art as high art or lowbrow and therefore not worthy of critical attention, but the person in question. Opinions are everyone’s, and no one, no matter how qualified they seem to think they are, have any more say in the matter than a farmer who has never heard of Caravaggio.

           But gossiping about and lampooning the pretentiousness of certain people is not the task at hand. This essay aims to discuss whether it is particularly important that an exhibit be experienced in person, rather than just seen online in a very thoroughly compiled online gallery, and will eventually try to convince its readers that while it has its merits, physically seeing the pieces does little to change one’s perceptions and ruminations on the work, or the experience of seeing it.

           To begin with, and this is putting it mildly, most art exhibitions are very dull. There is nothing else to be said on the matter, they are. Many would argue that this means whoever finds them dull simply is not an Artistic Soul who Understands The Anguish of Existing in a Capitalist World, but this is not the case. Most people alive today understand the anguish of living under late capitalism, especially those who would not want to congregate around a splash of paint or a fibreglass hand and declare it life-changing. This is because there is nothing inherently engaging about canvases arranged on walls, or traditional statues on plinths – in order for a viewer to be interested in engaging with the artwork, the artwork itself must be an engaging piece of work, and a myriad of them are not. “Engaging” here means captivating and inviting of critique. Many artists will say they are, but really most are not.

           Moreover, many exhibits today cost a lot of money to get into. Much of the data collected for this essay was mainly extracted from a visit to Warner Brothers’ Studios in Leavesden, just shy of an hour and a half out of London, to see the sets and art direction pieces for the Harry Potter films. The cost of trip and tour was steeper than one would hope, and immediately upon entering the first room, it was easy to see that money had perhaps changed hands a little too quickly. Set pieces and costume components lined the rooms of the studio tour, but it seemed that much of the experience could have just as easily been had online, from a video tour or a photo gallery. There was very little to interact with in any way other than from a strictly spectating position, and that is immediately detrimental to the success of any such exhibit that wishes to draw in physical attendees. It is difficult to justify spending money on experiencing the “size” and “scope” of set pieces one can hardly interact with.

           Many may read this essay and wonder why the exhibit chosen here to represent all other exhibitions is one so clearly for tourists. They certainly wouldn’t be wrong to point it out, but a tourist trap is just as much an exhibit as a collection on show at the Tate. Both are slices of the artistic medium, and both are equally worthy of critique. In fact, it could be argued that, as the Harry Potter films are so fixed in our cultural lexicon, the tour invites even loftier criticism. The sheer size of the world the designers and craftsmen had to build practically invites artists, critics and designers of all trades, as well as the common everyman to turn a critical eye to it.

           Another argument heard for this is that it definitely is worth it to see these pieces at full scale, and that one cannot hope to fully appreciate them without being in physical proximity. This seems a simplistic and frankly ridiculous argument to make, as all these pieces were designed to be experienced on a screen. It was nobody’s initial intention to open this studio full of set pieces and costumes, and put them on display. They have been experienced in their intended format a million times over, thus, the assertion that they must be seen full scale and enormous is laughable.

            This circles back to the point made earlier in the essay, that there should be no divide in art; highbrow, lowbrow – it all depends on the spectator, and the opinions of those less learned in the art world should not be considered lesser because of it. The reason the Warner Brothers Studio in Leavesden was chosen for this essay was a deliberate attack on the art world’s strict hierarchy and clear love for “cerebral, conceptual” (read: “too good for the rest of the world”) art. The view of this essay was always to tear apart the conceived notion that the opinions of critics are inherently worth more than those of the common man, so the selection of the exhibit reflected that aim.

In conclusion, many may disagree, but being in proximity of the works of art does nothing to enhance the works themselves, nor the experience of seeing them. This world is no longer 100% analogue, and the world of art and design is evolving with it, that much is evident with the influx of digital media, video games, and augmented reality content that exist out there. In order for proximity to make a difference in the work, it must be inherently interactive and capable of being changed by the spectator. Otherwise, there is no point.