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suaymak · 3 months

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Embracing Imperfections: learn to accept ourselves just as we are.

Hello! I am Raizah Anggalan, and I am here to share how i "Embrace my Imperfections" So, "How can we embrace our imperfection?" Now, I will share my experiences when it comes to imperfections, In today's world, there is often a lot of pressure to be flawless in every aspect of life. Whether it's striving for the perfect body, the perfect career, or the perfect relationship, the pursuit of perfection can take a toll on our mental and emotional well-being. I know there's no perfect in this world, but imperfections we often observe are not inherent to the world itself but rather to the people who inhabit it. Many imperfections arise from the high standards that people set for themselves and others. Consequently, individuals are often judged and criticized for not meeting these unrealistic expectations. This constant judgment can lead to a decrease in self-confidence and prevent individuals from appreciating their own worth. Moreover, people tend to compare themselves to others, which further contributes to feelings of inadequacy.

This is what I experience that I want you to know and it's meant a lot to me. I experienced this past 2022 I am a senior high school students and I have this kind of classmate that everyone call her Ms. Perfect, this classmate of mine is extremely beautiful, and many people are attracted to her. She is always chosen as the muse in class. I'm not jealous because she is she is too kind for me, it looks like I am toxic but I know everyone feel this, feeling that no one knows about you even what you like, what do you want, even inviting you in some events, like birthday or "gala" I find myself comparing to her, and it hurts me because I don't have anything that she has. She always gets noticed by everyone, while I feel like I'm just there, unnoticed. I often ask myself, why am I like this? After that, It's our Arts day and There was a time when our teacher assigned us a task, and I was happy because it was very easy for me. I noticed that others were struggling, especially my girl classmate that I mean. She approached me and asked for help. I was surprised because she seems perfect and doesn't need someone like me. But it turns out she was having a hard time, and I gladly helped her, Afterwards, she suddenly shouted in our class, "Hey, she's really good!" and everyone inside started asking for my help. It made me realize that everyone noticed me. They were all focusing on me. I know that it is just because I did well in the task assigned by our teacher, but it meant a lot to me because I realized that I can do something that others can't, especially to that my girl classmate who seems perfect, that time I know is like a small thing to other but for me is not. And that's when I realized that nobody is perfect, all of us have imperfections, and we can embrace them. Why not? We can be who we are, and no one can dictate who or what we should be. After that, I stopped questioning myself. Besides, I became proud of myself because being true to who I am brings happiness. No more pretending or wearing a mask. I simply enjoy life as it is.

Now I want to share some advice or thoughts about " How can you embrace your own imperfections".

Embracing imperfections it is being kind to ourselves when we make mistakes or face challenges. Instead of being hard on ourselves, we treat ourselves with understanding and patience. This helps us to bounce back from setbacks and grow stronger. It's about accepting ourselves as we are, learning from our experiences, and being kind to ourselves along the way. It is being true to ourselves and not pretending to be perfect. It helps us build genuine connections with others because we can be honest and real. When we accept our own flaws and the flaws of others, we can understand and empathize with them better. We let go of unrealistic expectations and love people for who they truly are, which creates a more caring and supportive environment.

And what yours?

If you want some advice, and you want to share about yourself and if you are struggling right now, I can be your listener.

You can contact me in my IG account: @future123765

Your story will be share and be an inspiration to others, let's spread positivity for everyone!

Note: when I am sharing your story in this platform, I am surely to have your consent if you want to share your story.

Enjoy!

#be yourself #be your true self #be your own inspiration #positivity

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herinsectreflection · 3 years

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Season Five is essentially a slow-motion trolley problem for Buffy to solve. She can let the unstoppable oncoming train that is Glory kill millions, or she can pull the lever and kill Dawn instead. It’s the most iconic choice in a series that is pretty much all about choice. This internal dilemma is externalised with the main villains. The show uses them to take a stance on the problem. There are obviously a lot of different ways to approach this from a moral philosophy standpoint, and I’m not going to talk about what is the “correct” moral choice, but how the show presents and interprets the various standpoints. It’s also worth mentioning that I am not a philosopher, this is just what I interpret from watching the show and some base level understanding.

Glory represents the option of simply letting people die. She is presented as egocentric, narcissistic, vain, and honestly kind of lazy. I think this is what the show thinks of people who would simply walk away from the lever and do nothing to keep their own hands clean. Glory does not take a sadistic pleasure in causing the death of millions, she simply doesn’t care. She justifies this by declaring that the world sucks anyway, and everyone suffers, so it doesn’t matter.

“Funny. 'Cause I look around at this world you're so eager to be a part of ... and all I see is six billion lunatics looking for the fastest ride out. ... I'm crazy? Honey, I'm the original one-eyed chicklet in the kingdom of the blind.”

- Glory, 5x21 The Weight of the World

But this is patently self-serving, yielding her own agency and using the absurdity of the universe to justify the atrocities she will be responsible for. She refuses to actively engage with the consequences of her actions, and so exposes her poisonous egomania. To simply not make a choice and let millions die would be selfish and intellectually vapid, and so Glory is selfish and vapid, and the main villain.

The Knights of Byzantium represent the opposite, strictly utilitarian viewpoint: that pulling the lever and killing the single person is not simply morally correct, but an imperative. They are treated slightly more sympathetically than Glory, since they are working in an understandable moral framework, but the story shows the ugliness inherent in their outlook. The ultimate endpoint of it is them hunting down and trying to kill a 14 year old girl. Buffy herself points out that this is inherently horrific.

“What kind of god would demand her life for something that she has no control over?”

- Buffy, 5x20 Spiral

The show is consistent throughout its run that a moral framework based purely on a utilitarian, mathematical approach and excuses any evil action as long as the amount of good done outweighs it, is ultimately unethical. That viewpoint can be used to justify any number of awful things, as long as they are outweighed on the cosmic scale. The show does not agree. It believes that certain actions are simply wrong, that no amount of good can wash out the bad. The hypothetical lives that the Knights of Byzantium could save lend their actions a reason that Glory does not have, but ultimately it does not change the fact that a child - a child with a mother, a sister, friends, a life - would be dead at their hands. The Knights refuse to confront that, simply falling back on dogmatic imperatives and silencing independent thought. They too allow their agency to be reduced, which is what allows them to commit awful actions.

Giles represents the space between these two villainous perspectives on the problem, and the heroic one that Buffy represents. He is, of course, not a villain - he’s one of the white hats, mentor to the hero. But he does argue for the utilitarian point of view. The shows stops itself being morally narrow-minded by allowing Giles to voice opposition to Buffy without being a villain, but it also proposes that the action of killing one person to save others is inherently unheroic. It taints Giles, and he accepts that.

“She's a hero, you see. She's not like us.”

I’ve been talking about Dawn as if she is the hypothetical single person on the other track, but she might better fit this scenario if we look at the “Fat Man” variation. This version posits that a “very fat man” is next to you, and pushing him onto the track will save everyone there. Dawn is that man in this scenario. Similarly, Ben can be seen as the “Fat Villain” variant, where pushing the person responsible for tying people to the tracks would save them. Giles’ murder of Ben can be seen as justified, if still unheroic, because Ben himself has chosen selfishness and tainted his own innocence.

Ben is very much a counterpart to Buffy in S5. He too had an ancient mystical force thrust upon him when he was young, which he had no choice in. His personal and professional lives suffer because of this. He cannot pursue the life he imagined for himself because of Glory’s presence, just as being the Slayer prevents it for Buffy. And both Buffy and Ben are offered an easy way out, which they spend The Weight of the World ruminating on - to simply let Dawn die. Ben at this point has a very obvious alternate solution - the same one Buffy eventually comes to, though she hasn’t realised it’s an option yet - that he ignores. He can throw himself onto the tracks. He can stop anyone dying by killing himself and therefore Glory. But unlike Buffy, he makes the selfish choice, to preserve his own future at the cost of an innocent child. And so he is condemned, and declared a villain as he is killed.

Buffy is the one true hero in this scenario. She concludes that the only moral option is to throw herself onto the tracks. This is still, ultimately, one life given to save many. But it’s hers to give. It’s her choice to make. Glory, Ben, the Knights of Byzantium, even Giles - when they advocate for killing Dawn, they all claim ownership of her life. She becomes a lamb for them to offer up. Dawn, brave and heroic mini-Buffy as she is, actually does offer up her own life to save others too, but the point is that it’s her life to give. It’s the difference between sacrifice and self-sacrifice.

This is how Buffy reconciles “Death is your gift” with “A Slayer is not a Killer”. All the other actors we’ve considered are killers. Giles and Tara spell it out pretty well in The Gift.

BUFFY: The spirit guide told me ... that death is my gift. Guess that means a Slayer really is just a killer after all.

GILES: I think you're wrong about that.

TARA: (points to Giles) You're a killer.

A killer is not necessarily evil or a monster, as Giles as a person makes clear. But a killer will pull that lever. A Slayer will jump on the tracks. Buffy and Faith debated this idea back in Consequences, where supposed utilitarian Faith suggests that “Slayer” and “killer” are interchangeable. Buffy argues that they are not, and specifically cites the idea that they can’t decide whether the lives of others are worth saving or not.

Faith: We're warriors. We're built to kill.

Buffy: To kill demons! But it does not mean that we get to pass judgment on people like we're better than everybody else!

Throughout S5, and particularly starting in Restless she fears that Faith is in fact right, and that a Slayer is in fact a killer. But in The Gift she proves that incorrect. She ties the human part of herself represented by Dawn to the duty-bound slayer part of herself, and both lead to the same destination of self-sacrifice, and heroism.

#btvs #buffy the vampire slayer #buffy summers #dawn summers #s5 #the gift #rupert giles #glory #ben #meta

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agent-cupcake · 3 years

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Hey AC! I love your blog and was wondering if I could get your opinion on something. I've seen some people complaining that Ingrid and Hilda are treated by the fandom, with Ingrid stans saying that Hilda is also racist towards Almyrans (which, granted, she is) but doesn't get nearly as much hate about it as Ingrid does. But personally I feel like their attitudes and the way they react towards Dedue/Cyril are wildly different and Hilda generally seems less hateful/irrational about it. Thoughts?

This is... kind of a touchy topic... I like it though! It’s worth discussing, especially since I feel like it’s broke criticism to simply deflect blame onto a character in order to prop up another. Full and obvious disclosure: I very much dislike Ingrid and very much love Hilda. That said, I don’t think it’s fair to compare them for the sake of which is worse. I fall into the trap of character criticism through comparison far too often and it's not really valid unless you can fully explore each character in their own right beforehand. Which is why, while writing this, I came to the conclusion that the ways these two characters are interpreted and the reason people view their racist tendencies differently has far more to do with the characters themselves than their actual beliefs.

From first impressions to subsequent playthroughs, this is pretty much how I feel about Ingrid: she brings up her hatred of the Duscur people and Dedue unprompted and uncontested several times at the very beginning of the game, putting it front and center to her character. This is important, it sets a foundational component for how I could come to view her. According to her introduction, she is honorable and respectful, a model lady knight trope. But, as mentioned, she's really racist. Literally standing around thinking about how awful it is that Dimitri would trust a man of Duscur because they are all bad people. Yikes. And nobody calls her on it. Again, this is very important for perception. People judge Sylvain for his bad behavior in a much more harsh way than they do Ingrid for her vitriolic loathing for another classmate who we have seen as nothing but respectful. It's weird. And then, despite the fact that her close friend Sylvain was able to reason out that it’s not possible for the Duscur people to be at fault for the Tragedy, despite the fact that the prince of the country she supposedly hopes to serve with unwavering respect and loyalty has made it clear that he does not believe that Dedue or Duscar are responsible for the Tragedy, and despite the fact that Dimitri, her close friend and the one most affected by the Tragedy (seriously, she lost a guy she might have married and he lost his best friend, mother, and watched his father be killed in front of his eyes) continuously insists that neither Dedue nor Duscur are at fault, she loudly and openly believes that the ensuing massacre of Duscur was deserved and Dedue is inherently culpable simply because of his race. Her motivations for this hatred feel even more cheap considering her dogged hero worship for Glenn was born out of the fact that she was promised to him, making the fact that she’d use his death as reason enough for the destruction of countless innocent lives even more unsympathetic in my eyes. I mean, seriously, she was around 13 and he was older than her, how close could they have truly been? Dimitri says they were in love, but she was a child. Abandoning my modern sensibilities about age of consent or whatever, kids at that age don't have the emotional or mental capability. Maybe this is just nitpicking, but I have a very hard time caring about that relationship. But, if her actual justification is because of what happened to Faerghus as a result of the Tragedy and feels duty-bound as a knight to find justice through the systematic destruction of the Duscur people, then it just circles back to confusion considering the future leader of said country doesn't hold Duscur or Dedue responsible. The importance of perception comes in because despite these paper thin excuses and her seemingly willfully ignorant hatred, she is never challenged on her racist beliefs. The reason she seems to change her mind about Dedue and consider that maybe excusing a genocide is wrong stems from guilt that Dedue continuously comes to her aid in battle at the potential cost of his own life. I can understand, to a certain extent, why she might feel the way she does. But, again, I have such a hard time with any justification when nobody that she's close to is even nearly as hateful as her, there is plenty of evidence (evidence that the people close to her have found!) to provide a very reasonable counterclaim to Duscur's guilt, and that none of that even matters when it would require her to openly contradict the prince of her country to make the claim that Dedue was in any way complicit in the Tragedy. Which would be fine if she wasn't established as the model Lady Knight archetype, which also brings us into Ingrid's moral high horse. Admittedly, I hate the Lady Knight trope. I have a significant bias against these types of characters. However, I really do think that this moral crusade is where she lost me completely. Without even a shred of empathy or self awareness, she lectures Sylvain about his shitty behavior even though their circumstances are at least somewhat similar and he has his reasons (bad ones, maybe, but ones worth understanding if she actually cares about him), she lectures Felix about not being interested in knightly endeavors (an aspect of his character that is born of the trauma she has appropriated), and she lectures Claude about behavior that is befitting of a man in his position. Not because she cares about the girls Sylvain is hurting, not because she thinks there are any grave stakes from Felix choosing to do his own thing, and not because she knows that Claude's behavior affects his ability to lead, but because she doesn't like these behaviors and thinks they should be fixed. Yet, at the same time, she believes Dedue deserved to lose his family, country, and culture based on his birth and nobody ever does anything to morally correct her, it is something she eventually is forced to acknowledge on her own. It's frustrating, infuriating even, that the game lets her get away with being so grossly hypocritical. And, all the while, she is being painted as sympathetic. Again, I have a hard time feeling sympathy for her about Glenn, and I certainty don't feel sympathetic towards her issues about marriage because there's never any actual tension there. Of course she won't be forced to marry, she's a Lady Knight. Beyond being unsympathetic, I also find her massively unlikable. Awful design, poor voice direction, food-loving-as-a-personality-trait, the fact that she's written as one of those stock "feminist" characters who hate makeup and girly things until it benefits them, and constantly butting in on other characters to give her opinion without taking any criticism herself are all aspects that I just personally dislike. Ultimately, Ingrid being racist is only a symptom of the many reasons her character is one of my least favorites. Most of these points can be countered by someone who doesn't take issue with the things that annoy me and to point out that Ingrid DOES get over her racist beliefs. It's not fair to say that she doesn't change but, for me, the damage was already done by the time she became tolerable so I still have a hard time appreciating her. My assumption would be that there are a lot of other people who feel similarly to me regarding their dislike of Ingrid so they focus on one easy character flaw, her being racist at the beginning of the game, as a reason to validate their dislike of her overall.

On the other hand, Hilda's racism isn't a main trait of her character. It's related to her overarching character flaws, but she doesn't bring it up unprompted and can actually be pretty much missed without the Cyrill supports. Like you said, Hilda does seem less hateful and irrational, it doesn't take willful malice and an active rejection of reason for Hilda to dislike the Almyrans, they pose a genuine and provable threat to her family and territory, seemingly senselessly testing the borders and throwing away lives for the sake of conquest. To be clear, her "you're not like those OTHER Almyrans" schtick is legitimately nasty. Her behavior is gross and condescending and it really underscores the fact that Hilda is ignorant, lazy, inconsiderate, and incredibly comfortable in her privilege. She accepts what she's been told at face value because she's too lazy to look into it further. Cyrill does tell her she's stupid to think that way, though. Which is satisfying because Hilda in those supports is insufferable, it really highlights the worst aspects of her character, dismissive, manipulative, and very selfish. However, for me, she's also very likeable. I'm not interested in going over my opinions on her like I did with Ingrid as I don’t feel it’s as important to my point but a few reasons I really like her is because I think Hilda has a fantastic design, cute supports, amazing voice work, and is secretly sweet in a way that absolutely tickles my fancy. I am sure many people do not agree with me, which is fine. Additionally, just as Ingrid grows out of her racist beliefs, so does Hilda. They both end the game as more tolerant and caring people. Still, for the same reason a person could argue that Ingrid is actually great and I'm being unfair, they could argue that Hilda is terrible and I'm too biased. That's fair and true..... but I think the fact that Hilda is more generally appealing in conjunction with the less obvious nature of her racist attitude makes people less likely to dismiss her as a racist in the same way they do Ingrid. Unless they dislike Hilda, in which case, it’s all fair game.

Anyyyways, a main takeaway from this is that I highly doubt people are truly arguing on the individual basis of who's more racist, but that they're engaging in the age old waifu war. As with many characters in this game, it's easier to argue moral superiority when you can't quite articulate what you like or don't like about a character. Or, even worse, when you're arguing opinion. Even now, as is clear by reading this, I am arguing my opinion of why I don't like Ingrid. Not because she's racist, but because of the character traits and writing choices that make her unlikable to me. I like Hilda because, flaws and all, I find her to be compelling and enjoyable. From the people that I know, at least, that is basically how the Ingrid stans v Hilda racism argument is structured, even if they dress it up in different language.

By the by Hilda never talks about how the Almyrans deserve to be wiped out. I think that probably sours a lot of people's opinions of Ingrid no matter what happened afterward but that’s fine we can just pretend that didn’t happen

#fe3h #fire emblem three houses #mmmm i am sorry if she is your fave #you are valid but i feel like she was the bully volleyball player in highschool and i can't get over it

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luckycheesefoodie321 · 4 years

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ok...ok ok ok... ok... so I watched Mulan (2020)... spoilers + LONG POST (yo this took me an hour and a half)...

before yall scream at me for spending money on it, lemme just say i was fully intending to wait until December so that I would not have to give even more money to the Disney machine (especially in light of things that happened with John Boyega) nor endorse individuals who support police brutality or oppression... but my mum and sister nagged me to buy it so we could watch it now, and explaining the politics of supporting both Disney’s greed and the controversy around the lead actress and would’ve just frustrated us both so I paid for it -_- please don’t crucify me...

also want to preface this by saying I am not Chinese (though I am Asian), and I understand that the 1998 film and this film have inherent issues, given neither were directed by Asian directors, let alone Chinese ones... so the representation of the Chinese culture is likely flawed (and likely straight up wrong) in many ways... additionally, Li Yifei has been shown to support the actions of police in Hong Kong, so just know I’m viewing her role purely from an acting and movie standpoint...

now that’s done... general rating for the movie

when compared to the original animated film (my favourite Disney movie of all time): scrapes by on a 5/10

movie that stands on its own as I watched it (just note I’m the type of person who can enjoy pretty much anything - even if I’m hyper-critical of it): 7/10 (I’m very generous but my viewing experience was nice)

if I break it down completely into its underlying faults and wash away the Hollywood sheen and the nostalgia filter: 4/10 for themes 8/10 for cinematography and the technical aspects... (this movie was gorgeous to look at and had some really fun camera work, sue me for enjoying the visuals)

Full SPOILER review:

For the most part, my nostalgia filter from the animated film, which I dearly dearly love, basically had me ecstatic anytime there was even a hint of a reference to the animated film (see: occasional notes from the songs), and also sorely disappointed when the acting or the general pace pulled the fun or the emotion from key points (see: A Girl Worth Fighting For being abruptly cut off upon seeing the carnage would’ve been so much more impactful because they actually showed the bodies in the 2020 version but instead we got this kinda funny convo referencing the lines completely separated from that scene)...

The biggest issue I have with the film is that Mulan was naturally skilled from the beginning and was told to suppress her abilities.. making her OP from the beginning undermines the 1998 journey where we see every step of her development both in physical ability and her emotional struggles... then through her wits, intelligence, and strategy, as well as being on par and even better than her fellow soldiers, she manages to defeat Shan Yu and makes us feel her “Hero” status is very much earned... so it takes away from what the 1998 film tried to show in suggesting Mulan could just OP her way to victory at the drop of a hat.. and also implied her being dishonest about her true identity was her primary flaw? idk thematically they were trying to be super empowering of women and the capability of women, and the boxes women are forced into according to society... but then suggest Mulan was always inherently gifted/had a special power and that is why she succeeded, while the other soldiers worked hard and effectively achieved the same goal (albeit in a less flashy manner)... so the message gets very confusing...

i felt that Xian Niang (was that her name?), the Witch, had a lot of potential, but I was also really concerned they introduced her to make sure Mulan had a female enemy to defeat, and Shan Yu/Bori Khan was a minion of this female enemy... so in that sense I’m glad she served as a foil to Mulan... I would’ve liked the parallels more if the “being your true self”/”bring honor to us all” theme wasn’t so muddled... Mulan was accepted while XIan Niang wasn’t because they both had powers, but then Mulan convinces her to take the noble path and so Xian Niang died for her? idk there was a better way to fold her into the story...

Shan Yu/Bori Khan was about as much as I expected from him... I think he matched Shan Yu for skill, though idk about ferocity or intimidation power, though the actor was decent enough... but I did enjoy his and Mulan’s fight... less impactful because he didn’t even know about her and how she was the one to take down most of his army...

didn’t mind that Mushu was missing... fondly referred to the phoenix as Mushu (though I understand there may be cultural missteps in a phoenix being the spirit/ancestor/guardian)...

I also didn’t mind they removed the power imbalance between Shang and Mulan and had her love interest be a fellow soldier...I really liked Yoson An’s character actually...but the romance element was significantly dialled back, so we didn’t get the bisexual icon that is Li Shang... also Li Yifei’s emotional acting was normal but not outstanding... so her feelings for Honghui didn’t really register much except for that first time they chat in the barracks about girls, and right before she goes home... (just me being pouty about him not joining the Imperial Guards to Mulan’s home and presenting himself for matchmaking... though I understand it was to keep focus on Mulan’s journey, not her love interest)...

while it probably wasn’t the intention of the 1998 film, the positive portrayal of gender fluidity, the specific empowerment of trans and bisexual individuals through Mulan and Shang (bc let’s get real, he was just as attracted to Ping as he was Mulan), all did not ring in quite the same way in the 2020 version... again I’m not part of either community, so I can’t say for sure, but this is what I read from it...

overall the fun was taken out, with the songs... I would say this is probably on the higher end of Disney Live Action adaptations, there were some fun moments and funny dialogue even, and I didn’t mind that they were trying to do something different, unlike some of the others which made it note for note the same... but ultimately the biggest flaw of most of the adaptations are that it removes the fun and the levity in lieu of a more serious tone...

I accepted no songs (I was hopeful and then pleasantly surprised when they did pay some minor homages through the score to the original’s songs)... but the fun moments were meant to be intentionally undercut by the reality of the war... there’s a reason A Girl Worth Fighting For was cut off so abruptly in the 1998 version... it was the moment where these trainees (all of them young and having never experienced battle or war before) suddenly realised the severity of the situation before them, and it was in that moment they accepted their fate and duty to protect the kingdom...

the 2020 version just kind of had them walk through the carnage without any real build up... the grand battle sequence with the avalanche was pretty well done, the overdramatic “Hua Jun died but Mulan lived” scene notwithstanding.. i didn’t mind that Mulan volunteered to expose herself rather than be forced half-naked into the snow by the Chancellor dude... didn’t like Honghui got the “you listened to Hua Jun, why is Hua Mulan any different?” line... the “I believe in Hua Mulan” was kinda goofy, but I could see what they were going for... it was kinda undermined by the Commander saying “you dishonoured your family and this regiment but hey, you’re brave and loyal kid”...felt very patronising...

I’m not gonna lie, I kinda loved Cricket... he was adorable and I had half a heart attack when I thought he’d died...

DIDN’T REALISE MING NA WEN MADE A CAMEO UNTIL I CAME ON HERE...so that was nice..

still pissed they didn’t even put the drum beats for “I’ll Make a Man Outta You”...they were using drums during the training sequence too so would’ve been real easy to do so AND THEY DIDN’T...they did it for “Bring Honor to Us All” and “Reflection”...idk why they couldn’t even give us that much of my favourite Disney song...

again, cannot emphasise enough how gorgeous this whole movie looked...and there were so many fun camera work moments... the visuals had me dead on the floor ya’ll...

idk what else i have to say now...

tl;dr I enjoyed the experience of watching it, but hooooo boi the film is flawed as hell...

#mulan #mulan 2020 #long post #spoilers #mulan 2020 spoilers #disney #spoiler post #movie review

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blackswaneuroparedux · 4 years

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Anonymous asked: Your blog isn’t what I expected for someone who champions conservative values because it is very rich in celebrating culture and strikes a very humane pose. I learn a great deal from your clever and playful posts. Now and again your feminism reveals itself and so I wonder what kind of feminist are you, if at all? It’s a little confusing for a self professing conservative blog.

I must thank you for your kind words about my blog and your praise is undeserved but I do appreciate that you enjoy aspects of high culture that you may not have come across.

My conservatism is not political or ideological per se and - I get this a lot - not taken from the rather inflammatory American discourse of left and right that is currently playing itself out in America. For example my distaste for the likes of Trump is well known and I have not been shy in poking fun at him here on my blog. Partly because he’s not a real conservative in my eyes but a .... < insert as many expletives as you want here > ....but mainly he has no character. My point is my conservatism isn’t defined by what goes on across from the pond.

Rather my conservatism is rooted in deeply British intellectual traditions and draw in inspiration from Edmund Burke, Michael Oakeshott, Roger Scruton, and other British thinkers as well as cultural writers like Coleridge, Wordsworth, and Waugh. So it’s a state of mind or a state of being rather than a rigid ideological set of beliefs.

Of course there is a lot of overlap of shared values and perspectives between the conservatism found elsewhere and what it is has historically been in English history. But my conservative beliefs are not tied to a political party for example. I wash my hands of politicians of all stripes if you must know. I won’t get into that right now but I hope to come back and and address it in a later post.

As for my feminism that is indeed an interesting question. It’s a very loaded and combustible word especially in these volatile times where vitriol and victimhood demonisation rather than civility and honest discussion so often flavour our social discourse on present day culture and politics.

I would be fine to describe myself as an old school feminist if I am allowing myself to be labelled that is. And in that case there is no incompatibility between being that sort of small ‘f’ feminist and someone who holds a conservative temperament. They are mutually compatible.

To understand what I mean let me give you a potted history of feminism. It’s very broad brush and I know I am over simplifying the rich history of each wave of feminism so I’m making this caveat here.

Broadly speaking the feminist movement is usually broken up into three “waves.” The first wave in the late 19th and early 20th centuries pushed for political equality. The second wave, in the 1960s and 1970s, pushed for legal and professional equality. And the third wave, in the past couple decades but especially now, has pushed for social equality as well as social and racial justice. It is the first wave and bits of the second wave that I broadly identify my feminism with.

Why is that?

Again broadly speaking, in the first wave and overlapping with the second wave legal and political equality are clearly defined and measurable, but in the third wave (the current wave) social equality and social justice is murky and complicated.

Indeed the current feminist movement - which now also includes race and trans issues in a big way - is not a protest against unjust laws or sexist institutions as much as it is the protest against people’s unconscious beliefs as well as centuries-worth of cultural norms and heritage that have been biased in some ways against women but also crucially have served women reasonably well in unwritten ways.

Of course women still get screwed over in myriad ways. It’s just that whereas before it was an open and accepted part of society, today nearly all - as they see it - is non-obvious and even unconscious. So we have moved from policing legalised equality opporttunities to policing thought.

I understand the resentment - some of it sincere - against the perceived unjustness of women’s lot in life. But this third wave of feminism is fuelled in raw emotion, dollops of self-victimhood, and selfish avoidance of personal responsibility. Indeed it bloats itself by latching onto every social and racial outrage of the moment.

It becomes incredibly difficult to actually define ‘equality’ not in terms of the goals of the first wave of feminists or even the second because we can objectively measure legal, civil and political goals e.g. It’s easy to measure whether boys and girls are receiving the same funding in schools. It’s easy to see whether a man and woman are being paid appropriately for the same work. But how does one measure equality in terms of social justice? If people have a visceral dislike of Ms X over Mr Y is it because she’s a woman or only because she’s a shitty human being in person?

The problem is that feminism is more than a philosophy or a group of beliefs. It is, now, also a political movement, a social identity, as well as a set of institutions. In other words, it’s become tribal identity politics thanks to the abstract ideological currents of cultural Marxism.

Once a philosophy goes tribal, its beliefs no longer exist to serve some moral principle, but rather they exist to serve the promotion of the group - with all their unconscious biases and preferences for people who pass our ‘purity test’ of what true believers should be i.e. like us, built in.

So we end up in this crazy situation where tribal feminism laid out a specific set of paranoid beliefs - that everywhere you look there is constant oppression from the patriarchy, that masculinity is inherently violent, and that the only differences between men and women are figments of our cultural imagination, not based on biology or science.

Anyone who contradicted or questioned these beliefs soon found themselves kicked out of the tribe. They became one of the oppressors. And the people who pushed these beliefs to their furthest conclusions — that penises were a cultural construction of oppression, that school mascots encourage rape and sexual violence, and that marriage is state sanctioned rape or as is now the current fad that biological sex is not a scientific fact or not recognising preferred pronouns is a form of hate speech etc— were rewarded with greater status within the tribe.

Often those shouting the loudest have been white middle class educated liberals who try to outcompete each other within the tribe with such virtue signalling. Since the expansion of higher education in the 1980s in Britain (and the US too I think), a lot of these misguided young people have been doing useless university degrees - gender studies, performing arts, communication studies, ethnic studies etc - that have no application in the real world of work. I listen to CEOs and other hiring executives and they are shocked at how uneducated graduate students are and how such graduates lack even the basic skills in logic and critical problem solving. And they seem so fragile to criticism.

In a rapidly changing global economy, a society if it wants to progress and prosper is in need of valuing skills, languages, technical knowledge, and general competence (i.e critical thinking) but all too often what our current society has instead are middle class young men and women with a useless piece of toilet paper that passes for a university degree, a mountain of monetary debt, and no job prospects. No wonder they feel it’s someone else’s fault they can’t get on to that first rung of the ladder of life and decide instead that pulling down statues is more cathartic and vague calls to end ‘institutional systemic racism’. Oh I digress....sorry.

My real issue with the current wave of feminists is that they have an attitude problem.

Previous generations of feminists sacrificed a great deal in getting women the right to vote, to go to university, to have an equal education, for protection from domestic violence, and workplace discrimination, and equal pay, and fair divorce laws. All these are good things and none actually undermine the natural order of things such as marriage or family. It is these women I truly admire and I am inspired by in my own life because of their grit and relentless drive and not curl up into a ball of self pity and victimhood.

More importantly they did so NOT at the expense of men. Indeed they sought not to replace men but to seek parity in legal ways to ensure equality of opportunity (not outcomes). This is often forgotten but is important to stress.

Certainly for the first wave of feminists they did not hate men but rather celebrated them. Pioneers such as Amelia Earhart - to give a personal example close to my heart as a former military aviator myself - admired men a great deal. Othern women like another heroine of mine, Gettrude Bell, the first woman to get a First Class honours History degree at Oxford and renowned archaeologist and Middle East trraveller and power breaker never lost her admiration for her male peers.

I love men too as a general observation. I admire many that I am blessed to know in my life. I admire them not because they are necessarily men but primarily because of their character. It’s their character makes me want to emulate them by making me determined and disciplined to achieve my own life goals through grit and effort.

Character for me is how I judge anyone. It matters not to me your colour, creed or sexual orientation. But what matters is your actions.

I find it surreal that we have gone from a world where Christian driven Martin Luther King envisaged a world where a person would be judged from the content of their character and not the colour of their skin (or gender) to one where it’s been reversed 360 degrees. Now we are expected to judge people by the colour of their skin, their gender and sexual orientation. So what one appears on the outside is more important than what’s on the inside. It’s errant nonsense and a betrayal of the sacrifices of those who fought for equality for all by past generations.

Moreover as a Christian, such notions are unbiblical. The bible doesn’t recognise race - despite what slave owners down the ages have believed - nor gender - despite what the narrow minded men in pulpits have spewed out down the centuries - but it does recognise the fact of original sin in the human condition. We are all fallen, we are all broken, and we are all in need of grace.

Even if one isn’t religious inclined there is something else to consider.

For past generations the stakes were so big. By contrast this present generation’s stakes seem petty and small. Indeed the current generation’s struggle comes down to fighting for safe spaces, trigger warnings and micro aggressions. In other words, it’s just about the protection of feelings. No wonder our generation is seen as the snowflake generation.

A lot of this nonsense can be put down to the intellectually fraudulent teachings of critical theory and post colonial studies in the liberal arts departments on university campuses and how such ideas have and continue to seep into the mainstream conversation with such concepts as ‘white privilege’, ‘white fragility’, ‘whites lives don’t matter’, ‘abolish whiteness’ ‘rape culture’ etc which feels satisfying as intellectual masturbation but has no resonance in the real world where people get on with the daily struggle of making something of their lives.

But yet its critical mass is unsustainable because the ideas inherent within it are intellectually unstable and will eventually implode in on itself - witness the current war between feminists (dismissed uncharitably as terfs) who define women by their biological sex and want to protect their sexual identity from those who for example are championing trans rights as sexuality defined primarily as a social construct. So you have third wave feminists taking completely different stances on the same issues. For instance there’s the sex positive feminists and there’s also anti-porn, sex negative feminists. How can the same thing either be empowering or demeaning? There are so many third wave feminists taking completely different stances on the same exact topics that it’s difficult to even place what they want anymore.The rallying cries of third wave feminism have largely been issues that show only one side of the story and leave out a lot of pertinent details.

But the totality of the damage done to the cultural fabric of society is already there to see. Already now we are in this Orwellian scenario where one has to police feelings so that these feminists don’t feel marginalised or oppressed in some undefinable way. This is what current Western culture has been reduced to. I find it ironic in this current politically charged times, that conservatives have become the defenders of liberalism, or at least the defence of the principle of free speech.

To me the Third Wave feminism battle cry seems to be: Once more but with feelings.

With all due respect, fuck feelings. Grow up.

I always ask the same question to friends who are caught up in this current madness be they BLM activists or third wave feminists (yes, I do have friends in these circles because I don’t define my friends by their beliefs but by their character): compared to what?

We live in a systemic racist society! Compared to what?

We live in a patriarchal society where women are subjugated daily! Compared to what?

We live in an authoritarian state! Compared to what?

We live in a corrupt society of privileged elites! Compared to what?

Third-wave? Not so much. By vast majorities, women today are spurning the label of “feminist” - it’s become an antagonising, miserable, culturally Marxian code word for a far-left movement that seeks to confine women into boxes of ‘wokeness’.

For sure, Western societies and culture have its faults - and we should always be aware of that and make meaningful reforms towards that end. Western societies are not perfect but compared to other societies - China? Russia? Saudi Arabia? - in the world today are we really that bad?

Where is this utopian society that you speak of? Has there ever been one in recorded history? As H.L. Mencken memorably put it, “An idealist is one who, on noticing that a rose smells better than a cabbage, concludes that it makes a better soup.“

I prefer to live in a broken world that is rather than one imagined. When we are rooted in reality and empirical experience can we actually stop wasting time on ‘hurt feelings’ and grievances construed through abstract ideological constructs and get on with making our society better bit by bit so that we can then hand over for our children and grandchildren to inherit a better world, not a perfect one.

Thanks for your question.

#ask #question #feminism #personal #third wave feminism #society #culture

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savvyblunders · 4 years

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Personal Post: Imposter Syndrome, Reading Traditional Books, and thoughts about my own writing

{Just rambles regarding books, fanfiction and some of my thoughts therein.}

It’s been a terribly long time since I read any published books--aside from those written by fellow fanfiction authors. It has reached the point that I find them entirely too cringey. The plots are tame, the characters stiff, the language rote. I especially have a hard time caring if there is a supposed ‘romance’ involved. Forget about het romances, they’re so formulaic that they leave me cold. It isn’t that I have no interest in the portrayal of a relationship between a woman and man, it’s that by and large they might as well have been churned off of a factory production line.

Part of my objection is to the tired old tropes and gender roles which authors (and readers) don’t seem to realize they’re not only falling prey to, but encouraging with their work. The world doesn’t have to be turned on its head to be interesting, but you shouldn’t know from the first few scenes between characters how it will play out--and further more, not care.

I did read a rather good psychological mystery a few days ago, however. I think perhaps it was successful in part because it was so different from the usual run of stories that people publish, but also because there wasn’t a romance shoe-horned into the storyline. The narrator wasn’t particularly sympathetic, but nor were they entirely unredeemed. I don’t want to give too much away, but it explored the themes of bullying, memory, redemption and revenge, with an enjoyable twist that I didn’t see coming--I was successfully led astray by red herrings, which isn’t always the case when I’m reading mysteries. The book, should anyone be interested, was Girl Gone Mad by Avery Bishop.

{I keep on rambling after the break ;)}

I also read another which was such a stinker I deleted it from my Kindle history and couldn’t tell you the title or author. This beauty had a somewhat interesting premise of a woman who wakes from a six month coma with full amnesia and throughout the book has to struggle with not remembering anything and depending on her husband, children and neighbors for the details of her life. Frustratingly, she finds parts of her personality and tastes have changed--at least as far as they all tell her. She begins to doubt that she is who they say--an issue further compounded when certain facets of her life pre-coma are revealed. Then when the ending arrives, there is a twist and a reveal which could have been pretty neat, only it arrived at the end of such a rote story, with such clunky storytelling and unimaginative language that I kind of didn’t care. It was clear, I might add, that the female protagonist was written by a man. Although blessedly he didn’t go into raptures over her perky breasts, long hair, or other physical attributes [insert vomiting]

My reading resulted in a two-fold feeling. One, traditionally published books are by and large crap. A few months ago I tried reading a book from a famous author whom I used to be quite a fan of. It was part of a series with which I used to be enamored. I settled in, expecting a very enjoyable read. After slogging through three chapters I gave it up. The writing was generic, the characters shallow and the ‘bad guy’ was so sketchily written as to be bewildering, not mysterious.

That book left me frustrated and annoyed. But it also revealed something to me which I had somewhat accepted and understood prior to that, but not entirely absorbed. Just because a book is traditionally published doesn’t mean it’s any good. Just because an author is well known--or even on the best seller list--doesn’t mean they can write. There are more places to find interesting, funny, heartbreaking, sexy, fun, amazingly written, daring and wonderful stories than at a bookstore or through Kindle.

The second part of my two-fold feeling was that while, as a writer, I may have much room to grow, I still have valuable skills to offer. My four years of writing fanfiction have honed my talent, refined my style, and influenced my voice, perspective and ability. A good beta, or editor, is invaluable. While I used to write solo and not show it to anyone, simply edit and post, I’ve come to understand the inherent value of feedback. It can be a tricky road, as you might find yourself influenced too much by a reader into trying to suit their tastes rather than your own, but a good beta (eternal thanks to @paialovespie & @hoomhum)--that is to say, a great beta, will not only see the nuts and bolts which might need tightening, but will offer insights which blow your story from ordinary to inspired. The same goes for a ‘personal cheerleader’ (the highest of praise to @mottlemoth) or someone who reminds you at your dark times that you are capable of far more than you can conceive of in that moment. Forget nasty comments online, most of us are our own worst enemies--after all, we know our weakest spots and can zero in on them mercilessly.

Even without a beta, I believe in myself as a writer enough these days (most days) to hope that one day, with hard work, skill, great editing, and some luck, I too could be published. Not a NYT best seller, perhaps, but then, I’m not entirely certain I’d like that. I don’t say this out of any sort of pretentiousness, but because, in essence, these days, I want to write the kind of things that appeal to a more niche audience. I’d like to point with pride at my small book, nestled there on a bookshelf, or available with one click of a button, as something that helps give a voice to a community which has, and still continues to be, marginalized, ignored, fetishized and pandered to, in equal measure. Perhaps it would be for the best if what I wrote wasn’t palatable to the greater reading public.

Of course, those days when I’m full of zest and confidence don’t always last. Like any creator, I fall prey to Imposter Syndrome. Lord, I can’t believe that a time used to exist when I didn’t know what that was! I knew the feeling (oh, how I did), but had no clue that a term existed to encapsulate it. The concept that I wasn’t alone in having days (weeks, months, years) of being cast into doubt that I had anything worth saying--a voice worth listening to--isn’t a new one, but to find out that I’m not alone was unutterably comforting.

Since, like so many people, I’ve been suffering from a lack of ambition and ability to focus during this global pandemic, I haven’t written much at all, that inner voice rang loud and clear. I’m a fraud, a fake. Any ability I had was used up, clearly as shallow as a mud puddle if a little adversity was enough to dry it out. The struggle to get myself past that was, and is, one that swings from good to bad almost day by day. I had to finally give myself permission to be sad, scared, worried, tired, uninspired. Eventually I decided it was enough that I could find comfort and solace in other’s writing. And oh, how I have! Even though days and days would pass when I couldn’t even muster the interest to read, other times I would consume fanfiction fervently, feverishly.

And there was so much out there! Adventure, sex, romance, comedy, crack, fluff, hurt/comfort. It seems funny that I can rail against the ‘formulaic’ writing of published books and then turn to ‘tags’ and ‘tropes’ for comfort. But I think the difference lies in the heart that is written into those fanfiction stories. Most of us, while being somewhat influenced by friends, mutuals and fans into writing for a hungry public, are, by and large, writing for ourselves. The old tried and true ‘write what you know’ advice seemed empty and meaningless to me for years. If we only ever write what we know, then how do sci-fi, fantasy, adventure, etc., get written? My brain went to the obvious and ignored the heart of the matter--it isn’t so much what you ‘know’ as writing what you need. What makes you passionate. Even if you’ve never been on a space ship, or been part of a polyamorous, platonic communal family group, if you write it with that yearning and spirit in your heart, it will reach out to someone else.

Fanfiction, at it’s core, is self-comfort.

In my estimation, looking at traditionally published books, it seems that what most of them lack is that heart. The writers aren’t writing because they need the story, or because they are compelled to tell it. It isn’t that they had a hell of a good time writing it, or that they made themselves laugh while doing so. They had a publishing deal to fulfil, a publisher to make happy, a reading public who had certain expectations. There’s nothing wrong with that of course, but if it’s your only motivation...then the writing suffers the neglect and a percerptive reader will note the difference.

By and large, the fandom, the ship, even the trope, aren’t what captivates me most. I’m a pretty eclectic reader. I enjoy a good story more than I do the fact that it is a particular pairing. The draw is how well it is written, any chances the author took, the indulgence into style, formatting, etc. that they allowed themselves. So why should published books be any different? I’ve heard (non-fandom) people dismiss fanfiction as niche. Perhaps it is. But it is also broad, vast, uncharted territory where we’re all having a lot of fun and enjoying the hell out of ourselves.

Maybe those published authors need to spend a little time with us.

#personal stuff #savvy ponders #writing #traditional publishing #fanfiction #pandemic #depression #anxiety #self comfort #introspection

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justgottafinishthischapter · 5 years

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Writing Romance: Pining

We’ve all had crushes. We catch feelings for that cute somebody. Some people watch helplessly from afar, but others walk right up to the one they’re crushing on and ask them out. Again. And Again. And Again. No matter how many times they get rejected. So, I want to break down this romantic trope and highlight why it works in some instances and not in others.

If you looked at Fry and Leela’s relationship in Futurama and Elfo and Bean’s relationship in Disenchantment, you would assume they’d hold the same weight. Both were created by the same person, and Fry and Elfo are both losers hopelessly pining after a strong confident girl who could kick their asses. So why then do I cringe every time Elfo makes a move on Bean, but Fry’s pursuit of Leela is charming? It’s all about the execution.

In Futurama, Fry and Leela are completely separate characters. Although Fry shows an attraction to Leela in episode 1, the first time there’s a genuine display of romance between them wasn’t until season 2 when the crew went aboard the Titanic. Fry has interests and hobbies that don’t involve Leela at all. There are episodes that focus on his relationship with Bender, dealing with his feelings about being so far from his own time, and getting into wacky hijinks on alien planets. For the first few seasons, Fry’s pining took a backseat to his everyday escapades. Leela is just as fleshed-out as Fry. She is a totally independent character with her own goals, backstory, issues, and character traits. Her desire to find her planet of origins and find her place in the universe, her love of animals, her short temper, and her responsible nagginess is in no way dependent on Fry’s character even needing to be in the show to work. But more importantly, Fry didn’t just endlessly pursuit Leela on a baseless feeling of entitlement to her. It was always clear that Leela felt at least a little something for Fry, as there were many quiet moments with her showing her warming up to Fry. Whether it was bonding over their nebula on the titanic, Burning a hole in the picture of Chazz and symbolically seeing Fry as an option for the first time, deciding to forget the coin toss and just go out with Fry of her own will, Realizing that he gave up his oxygen to keep her safe, becoming enamoured with the perfect Fry created by the super worms, and wanting to hear how Fry’s opera ends, even when he lost the ability to play the music as beautifully, there is a clear and steady build-up to Leela coming around to Fry. Fry likes Leela, and he does pursuit her, but dating Fry isn’t just Leela getting fed up with turning him down, there’s a genuine development of reciprocated feelings that genuinely feels earned.

The same is not true for Elfo. Elfo serves no real purpose in Disenchantment. If Bean was not in the show, he would have no real goals or purpose. He states in episode 1 that he wants to experience things other than constant happiness, but then he shows no interest in pursuing this goal upon meeting Bean. All of his character is either pining after Bean or being Bean’s nagging conscience. The show goes out of its way to beat us over the head that Bean has no interest in Elfo. From blatantly calling the spot at her feet “The Friend Zone” and telling Elfo to sleep there, to eating what the audience is supposed to think is Elfo’s leg and saying she likes it, but only as a friend, this pairing completely misses the point of Fry and Leela that made it so charming. And while Fry could get jealous of other guys Leela had an interest in, Elfo is downright possessive, sabotaging her relationships with guys she shows interest in. Where as Fry is generally a nice guy who doesn’t act entitled to ownership of Leela, Elfo deliberately hurts and lies to Bean to manipulate her. As a result, they have no chemistry, and I wasn’t at all saddened by Elfo dying toward the end of season 1. Frankly if they left him dead or forced him to live far away from Bean for a season or two, it might help give him a personality outside of obsessive stalker.

Althought I was an avid Klance shipper, had Allurance at least been well-written I could have unenthusiastically lived with it. But Allurance was straight up toxic from every angle. First and most importantly, Allura never showed any interest in Lance. Unlike Leela who slowly warmed up to Fry and came to like him on her own gradually, Allura always looked annoyed and frustrated whenever Lance hit on her. It wasn’t until after Lotor broke Allura’s heart that she suddenly and randomly gained feelings for Lance literally out of nowhere. It wasn’t earned, there was no build up to the payoff, and Lance didn’t act any differently to change her opinion of him. The only reason Allura finally settled for Lance was because she felt betrayed, she knew Lance wouldn’t do that to her, and she used his feelings for her to validate her self-worth. The entire time they spent as a couple, she completely disregarded his feelings, his opinions, his concerns, his needs, and his help. At no point during their relationship did she put Lance first. He always had to put her needs above his own. And who did Lance turn to when he needed someone to lean on? Oh right, Keith. Someone he has actual romantic chemistry with who doesn’t use him as an emotional bandage. And Lance has Allura on this pedestal, worshiping her like some kind of goddess, to the point that he can’t see the way she’s using him. And if he can see it, he’s choosing to ignore it because he spent so long and fought so hard to win her over, he’s afraid to say anything that would risk losing someone he perceives as being too good for him, when in reality, he’s way too good for her. This entire pairing is just toxic. They’re both terrible for each other.

But a hopeless pining idiot isn’t always excruciatingly painful. In the first three volumes of RWBY, Jaune Arc is hopelessly pining after Weiss Schnee. Every time he does, she turns him down. However, while he is still on the cringy side of “can’t take a hint”, he is able to put Weiss first. When he finds out she likes someone else, he actually gives the guy a pep talk and encourages the guy to go out with her. But with Weiss and Jaune being reuinted in season 5, and team RWBY being officially back together in season 6, we saw a glimmer of this ship rear its ugly little head and frankly, it hasn’t really earned the right to sail yet. While Jaune and Weiss have both matured, nothing has really changed between them. Neither of them has really done anything to shift their dynamic from what it was when Weiss so bluntly turned Jaune down before. If this relationship is ever going to have to work, they both need to adjust their attitudes and the way they see each other. Right now, the most Jaune has is an infatuation. They don’t yet have the kind of bond where they seek one another out or turn to each other for comfort or advice. There are no seeds of trust or mature understandings of who each other are. They simply aren’t in a good place to start dating unless they can learn to be vulnerable with one another.

Of course, not all good pining ships have to end in a relationship. Pearl’s love and admiration for Rose Quartz is beautifully complex, tying into her own feelings of worthlessness and how Rose made her feel like she was more than what society told her she was. Yes, Pearl had elements of toxicity herself, being possessive, jealous toward Greg, and putting Rose on a pedestal above herself. However, a big part of her character is learning to recognize and move past these feelings of entitlement toward Rose. Learning to accept, let go, and move on from this deeply rooted pining. The show fully admits that Pearl never had a chance with Rose. She never saw Pearl that way, and while Pearl’s feelings are not inherently invalid, and there’s a good reason for her to love Rose as much as she does, it doesn’t distract from the fact that Rose never returns Pearl’s feelings and Pearl simply needs to move on with her life.

While pining is not an inherently bad trope, it’s one that’s very easy to mess up. Too often it comes in the form of a “nice guy” who can’t take a hint, making the girl he likes angry, frustrated, or uncomfortable in the process only to be rewarded by being an unrelenting stalker. It’s important that with pining, it needs to be mutual, and it usually works best as a slow burn. A girl turning a guy down and him not stopping isn’t romantic, it’s creepy and annoying. A relationship isn’t built on one person idolizing the other and having the other person settle. It’s about understanding another person better than anyone else. Having someone you can be truly vulnerable and yourself with, who understand the way you think, and cares about you enough to be able to put themselves aside to give you what you need without taking it to the extreme of neglecting themselves in the process. Pining isn’t inherently funny, the loser getting the girl isn’t automatically romantic, and a just because it takes a girl seven seasons to give in to his relentless pursuit is not guaranteed to be endearing to your audience. If you do not build it properly, it will fall apart on itself. This trope needs to be used strategically and handled well to tug on an audience’s heartstrings, but when done right can have a very satisfying payoff.

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agentrouka-blog · 4 years

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"Show yourself!” Lyanna Stark and her three Elsa Starks.

My son has been enjoying Frozen II every once in a while lately, while he’s doing his three-year-old part to containing the pandemic by staying home, and “Show yourself” is really a heart-stopping piece of music. Gorgeous. The way it builds and what it is about. And it gives me massive ASOIAF feels.

This seems a bit silly, but I have yet to come upon a song that as perfectly captures the emotional relevance of the revelation of Lyanna Stark as Jon’s mother, the relevance for all the remaining Starks. The fit of the emotional arc is amazing. Basically, if you want to feel what GRRM wants us to feel about Lyanna Stark, watch “Show yourself”.

I’m going into self-indulgent detail About how Frozen II relates to them, and what Lyanna means to Bran, Arya, Sansa and Jon, below the cut.

So, Frozen is a pretty universal story that also applies to ASOIAF.

The figure of the “always different” special child, estranged from others, who has battled to fit themselves into the world around them and now stands on the precipice of an existential challenge - that applies to all the surviving Stark children. They are all Elsa. They all vitaly need the confrontation with the hidden voice calling them (mother Iduna = Lyanna) in order to reach a balance, to achieve harmony in their world, to enable their non-magical inner Anna to reign in a living world rather than perish, abandoned in one destroyed by chaos.

They have all grown up in the non-magical “Arendelle”, caged by imposed secrecy. That’s Ned, that’s king Agnar, the regular human man. Regular, as in regulation, as in rules. No one must know Elsa’s magical (female) powers. She is locked in a room, contained, lonely. Olaf (love, spring, summer) is a suppressed memory.

Patriarchy, blind duty, the suppression of their inner selves lead to their ruin: Bran the climber who may not climb but then falls, Arya the fighter who may not fight but then murders, Sansa the artist who may not create a dream but instead becomes a liar, Jon the beloved, noble son who is kept in isolation and must be motherless, friendless and damned. Elsa’s magic is harmony but she must hide it and thus brings eternal Winter to Arendelle.

Lyanna, the way Ned refused to talk about her and kept her secret, the effect of that is perfectly illustrated in Elsa’s journey in Frozen I, she is isolated from her emotional needs (Anna, lonely, hungry for connection, full of bad judgment), she has no control over her magic, it turns into something terrible. She pays the price in loneliness and then struggles without proper guidance to “grow up”, to harness her inner strength. She does gain control but it’s chaotic and leaves her vulnerable to abuse and betrayal (Hans) and everything almost falls to ruin, until the power of love creates a last-minute save and a spot of recovery. That’s when they retake Winterfell and reconvene. They all go through this journey and meet at the stalemate.

Frozen II is about connecting to the source of that magic and reconciling with it, about validating it, returning it to its proper place. They find out that Mother Iduna had magic, too. They find out that Elsa’s magic is the key to harmony, that she is not just accepted but necessary just as she is. What was forbidden is now essential. Elsa is finally free to be herself, she applies her magic to save the world and then peacefully lives in it. Anna has a safe space to fullfil her emotional needs and bring all her own talents to life. She is no longer lonely and without purpose, she is queen, soon to be wife, likely to be mother. The other, equally valid side of Iduna.

Lyanna, the previously hidden and locked power of the female Stark magic: mother, sister, lover; lady, fool and knight, she-wolf, caged bird and the most beautiful flower grown with love from an inhospitable place. She has all the good and bad sides of Bran, Arya, Sansa and Jon, and each in their own way are healed when they follow the call and find her. Their true selves will be validated in every aspect, by being mirrored in Lyanna.

Bran: his true purpose is to uncover THIS secret while “climbing” a Broken Tower of Joy. His ability to “fly” to learn the truth from the weirdwood memory, it gives meaning to everything that happened to him. Their failure: to break the rules in secret, leading to their unprotected fall. They are ruined, broken. Their redemption: This fall later unlocks the key to saving the world. Lyanna begets her beloved son Jon. Bran discovers his greenseeing abilities. Being discovered for their true selves makes Bran the Lord of Truth, it makes Lyanna the Queen of Love and Beauty once more, they can leave the Tower the proper way, climb out of that window and fly home. Lyanna comes home, not just her bones, her true self. The truth will set you free, and it turns the potentially destructive, secretive nature of the Three-Eyed Raven into a savior, it turns Winter into Summer.

Arya: Lyanna, the beautiful Stark maiden, who rode a horse and weilded sword and lance and defended the innocent and tried to create justice. The true Lady Knight. Their failures: her impatience and anger at injustice make her heedless and lead to a dismantling of the world, others pay the price in blood (Rickard, Brandon and Lady, all of Arya’s kills). They become a source of death and destruction that eventually destroys her, too. Their redemption: They choose life by choosing Jon. (Make all the abortion jokes you want, but Lyanna LOVED Jon, she chose him in her heart.) Lyanna saves the world by giving it Jon. Arya does the same. She loves Jon first with all her heart, which enables him to love the world in turn, to free Arya by giving her Needle, which then will in turn be the instrument to Arya’s swan song, where she defends the innocent and enacts justice and saves Jon one last time. Found and validated by her spiritual mirror Lyanna, the Queen of Love and Beauty, Arya paves the way for life and the real Spring, not the false Spring. It paves the way for Lyanna’s dream. The blood red tears of the weirwood, of Lady Stoneheart, turn into the image of the Laughing Tree,

Sansa: Lyanna, the dreamer, the lover, the idealist, the mother-in-waiting, the girl who wanted it all: Life lived with emotional fulfillment. Who believed in her heart that there is worth in her dreams and that she was inherently worthy of seeing them realized. Lyanna’s desire, her love, her dreams are Sansa’s. This shared aspect is the most feminine part of all the Starks, the Summer in all that Stark Winter imagery. And Sansa is ridiculed for it because there is no counterbalance to the hypermasculity of their world. Sansa and Lyanna are both betrayed by this imbalance. The oppression inherent in their paternatlistic world takes their softness and turns it into weakness, takes their life-giving bodies and turns them into a weapon against them. Marriage for love becomes rape and birth becomes death. The Sping turns false and, as their dreams die, so does Winter kill life in the world. Their “failure”: Both rebel by turning traitor. They lie, they leave, they turn their backs on their family, they unwittingly deliver themselves into the hands of the enemy. They are made fools. As objects, they inspire the violence and death that Arya herself deals out as a “dark knight”. Their very absence means death to dreams for those who want to live them. Persephone in Hades. Their redemption: Becoming Anna, the non-magical sister. Becoming the real, worldly Queen. Taking control. Giving power to the feminine. When Sansa embraces her own self-worth, she inspires devotion, decency, nobility. When Sansa begins to actively create, she forges a world in which dreams can thrive and when they make their dreams come true, life wins out. She will leave the Tower alive, she will meet her love. Chaos is reigned in, they create stability, beauty, bounty. The true Spring happens when they come into power and preside over all their creations and children with love at their side. Happiness. Spring is coming.

Jon: He and Arya and Sansa are tied together, obviously. The sun and stars (the sun is a star, after all), and the moon of life. Jon is the “true” Elsa, the fifth spirit, her magical heir. He is Lyanna come again, fulfilling what life promised her. Their failure: Believing there is no love for them, they are pressed into a life that abnegates all feminine energy, all dreams. Where Lyanna rebels and becomes a fool, Jon, as a man, flings himself into self-denial and still becomes a fool. As a motherless Stark bastard he can never be his true noble self because the world leaves no room for all he has to offer. Like Lyanna, he is trapped by the rigid rules. Like Sansa, he is ridiculed. Like Bran, the secret in the tower is the source of his misery. This almost turns him into an ice block. It leaves him vulnerable to false love, harmful secrecy, betrayal, death. Their redemption: true love. It is Ned’s love that leads him to keep looking until Lyanna is found and to preserve her legacy. It is Arya’s love that keeps Jon from turning into a rigid, unbending Stannis, it will have her looking until Jon is found again, it will have her lay down her life for his. It will be Sansa’s love that leads Jon back to life after death every time. Real life, Anna’s life. It will be Bran’s love that uncovers the truth. This truth will melt the ice. Lyanna saves Jon when it is revealed that the mother he dreamed of all his life was real. Noble and kind and beautiful and loving him with all her heart. Not some man’s bastard but his mother’s beloved and “trueborn” son, the brightest star in our sky, the gillyflower. This will unlock his ability to fulfill his Destiny, save the world, realize his own dreams and Lyanna’s: a true Stark, the fool knight who wins the love of his Lady, saves her from a tower, marries for love, a parent to children of his own blood. Masculine in harmony with the feminine to create and preserve life.

Lyanna is the key to all of them. Like Iduna’s call leads Elsa to discover her true purpose, the fact that her life is a gift to the world, Lyanna validates the qualities of all the Stark kids. None of them can fulfill their destiny without touching upon her, not until she becomes visible. But when they do, it will be epic.

And “Show Yourself” just sort of captures the whole range and magnitude of this emotional arc. It really is a brilliant song.

#asoiaf #frozen #lyanna stark #jon snow #arya stark #bran stark #sansa stark

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tothedarkdarkseas · 4 years

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What do you think is the REAL difference between Stu and Murdoc? Is it upbringing, age, personality, or cocktail of things?

I’ve gotta tell you, of all the kind asks you sent (and what a nice thing that was of you to do, thank you, they were fun to ponder!) this is the one I’m like… jittery to answer because there’s just so much to be said. Put under a cut because it ended up kinda stupid-long.

I mean, what has to be determined first is– are Murdoc and Stu that different? I tend to think they’re not, not as much as they are alike. That’s actually what I like best about them and something I usually play to when I can, how much they both resemble a certain stereotype but with their own twist. Many of their differences are a little superficial, like Stu being a bit more geezery with his football and all, and Murdoc being less uptight with his hobbies (be it involving cheeky GTA or a gimp mask.) I joked the other day that the biggest difference between the two is just that Murdoc does uppers and Stu does downers, and that’s pretty much it. I do think on a “deeper” level, like a more innate behavioral level, they’re a lot more similar than they actually realize.

But with all that being said, of course they’re not identical, and there’s a lot that contributes to where exactly they differ. I think that everything you said is absolutely relevant to that!

Let’s start with age and upbringing. The age difference between Murdoc and Stu is actually fairly stark when you just look at the years, but it never feels quite that bad to me because Murdoc and Stu are both so emotionally stunted and immature. There’s a line in Bojack Horseman than I think is incredibly on-point here, about how “the age you are when you get famous is the age you stop growing.” I think for Stu, it absolutely damned him to become famous at around 20, it locked him mentally into an age where he should’ve been learning everything wouldn’t be given to him, and instead it was just… given to him. In excess. If you follow that reasoning Murdoc’s sort of odd though, in that he never actually achieved fame on any major scale until he was in his 30′s. It seems more like Murdoc’s exaggerated sense of self-importance (probably a response to knowing, very much knowing, that he was not in fact something towering and impressive at all, and there’s like… something absurdist in really choosing to think he is. That’s almost the ultimate form of his Humor As A Shield– what could be a bigger joke than not hating himself?! Ha! It’s funny because it’s sad!) set in way before he actually became famous. It’s more like his maturity is stalled at the time he started trying to be famous. Stu didn’t actually try to pursue music at all before, while Murdoc spent a decade absolutely convinced that it had to work and doggedly not accepting when it wasn’t. It feels like these two approaches enabled (or damaged) them in different ways, but both end up with the result of men who don’t act their age for many years and have hedonistic, stereotypically rockstarish ways of living far beyond that of their bandmates. Stu can barely claim he knows better though and is perhaps more… people are gonna yell at me for being so hard on him haha, but more spoiled and therefore more ignorant because he never actually lived a responsible adult life. (Does that mean Stu hasn’t had difficulty in that life? Absolutely not. The man has at least three counts of massive head trauma and was in a coma for an undetermined period of time, he has a permanent physical impairment that likely impacts his vision, I think he’s earned a few perks.) Murdoc on the other hand is very aware of what it was like to be a failure, to be conventionally unemployable, and to have so little to lose that he’d make incredibly stupid decisions that could’ve ended his free life. His indulgence now is frankly more extreme, but Murdoc has an even greater sense of believing he earned that and he owes nothing (whether that’s completely true or not.)

And that’s just touching on the ends of their “upbringing,” not the actual 18+ years that went into it. It goes without saying that Stu and Murdoc had very different home lives– Rachel and David Pot are suggested to be rather precious with Stu out of some probable guilt for his first head trauma, in complete contrast to Sebastian’s humiliation and neglect– but on top of that, what seems to be glossed over at times is how they grew up in very different regions at very different time periods. I’m far from an authority on this or on anything (as always I really suggest asking @elapsed-spiral if you want better information, don’t let the hiatus thing fool you, Danni’ll still talk about British Shit Innit) but I’m told the British school system Murdoc would’ve endured in the 60s and 70s was unremittingly bleak and damaging to a child’s development. Despite his immaturity and my feelings that their age difference isn’t really so pronounced, Murdoc is older than Stu and unfortunately he experienced a much colder and rougher school environment, and it’s tough to argue that didn’t have an effect. (Though on the flipside, Stu was in school during Section 28, a thing I’m also not an authority on. Go figure a working class and very closeted bisexual man in the 80s might internalize some homophobia! The go-go 80s aren’t all they’re cracked up to be.) It’s not exactly surprising that Murdoc, who grew up on the lowest end of working class, in council housing, in an unglamorous Northern town like Stoke with a neo-fascist brother and a neglectfully-abusive alcoholic father, would come away an emotionally repressed and embittered person. It’s almost a bit bold that Murdoc is as “flamboyant” as he is (even if it comes with a hefty side of toxic masculinity)– he could’ve become hateful in a more stony way, but instead he’s like a giddy-cruel showman out of spite. You can argue that Murdoc’s lack of support system results in him feeling much more unfettered. He has no one to thank for getting him out of that and no one he credits for getting him where is. He very much has the mentality of “I take what I can and do what I want, because the world owes me everything.” And in a way, I can see where that’d come from.

He’s wrong though. Because Stu’s there. And Stu owes Murdoc nothing.

I know I’m really running on here, and I think you probably already have a picture of what I see Stu’s upbringing and childhood as. Rachel Pot is the unsung best character in Gorillaz, Stu was quite coddled by his parents, and Stu admits to being largely unmotivated and rudderless. It’s notable that Stu is in fact also working class but he’s presented like he’s not, I think just as a result of looking a lot better in comparison to Murdoc and us Americans not fully knowing the details of the British class system as compared to ours. (I don’t want to condescend to you anon, you may be British and know all this a lot better than I do. But because I am American, what would be more American than assuming everyone’s American?) I would say Stu’s family places on the higher end of that though (again, council housing for Murdoc, Stu had a garden with what must’ve been a decently big tree for him to fall out of) and isn’t portrayed as struggling in the same way. His job at Norm’s seems more like something he does because he’s not allowed to sit in the house all day, and he likes messing with the keyboards and he likes having spending money because he’s too old for allowance, and girls he’s fooled around with occasionally pop in to his work and bring him a pastry from the Tesco Express she works at and they make out in her car. Stu comes away from Crawley with quite a few “tethers” that disallow him from feeling as “loose” as Murdoc– he has a good relationship with his parents, a handful of mates, probably a handful of girls he wasn’t on bad terms with, at least one who’d end up becoming his girlfriend. So why does he have some of the same “cruel showman” qualities as Murdoc? Why does his entitlement end up looking much the same? That’s all personal interpretation of course, but I’d say it’s because Murdoc drove a car into his face and stole an unspecified amount of time from his life. I’d say because he’s out of his parent’s house for the first time in his life, and he’s going full throttle into being this person now. I’d say that in one night, and many unconscious nights following it, Murdoc smashed that same embittered attitude into the front of Stu’s skull. To be clear, that isn’t writing off Stu’s faults on Murdoc; it isn’t to say Murdoc made him egotistical or promiscuous or immature. But the attitude that you are fucking owed something is really only an attitude they share because Murdoc gave Stu someone to spite where he didn’t have that before.

(I recognize this whole dynamic isn’t for everyone and I do get it, and for what it’s worth I think it’s totally correct to say Murdoc gave Stu all the best things in his life. He just also gave him the worst bits too. The reality is neither would be here without each other, for all the good and bad that implies. It’s true that Stu’s famous because of Murdoc, but it’s also true that Murdoc’s famous because of Stu. What a tangled web!)

I’m sorry, I’m so off the question now, I just love this stuff. So, personality! That’s unquestionably a factor, the answer to the nature vs nurture debate will always be a little bit of both. I think if you tallied up all of Stu and Murdoc’s traits, desires, and behaviors after they’ve been living together a few years, you’d find a longer list in the similarities column than the differences. The environmental influence doesn’t just stop at where you’re raised, I think the environment you live in and the people who inhabit it continue to have an impact on you pretty much throughout life; even if moving to a richer city doesn’t “change” you, it changes the way you look at things, understand things, respond to things. It just inherently does. Still, I recognize that’s my own characterization of them and if you just look at the characters in canon, you’d be hard pressed to say they seem like the same guy. There are things about them that are just innately different, some of it learned through their upbringing and some of it dictated by… the way they’re wired.

Which is a point I’m really hesitant to comment on too much, but– mental health. It probably doesn’t look the same between Stu and Murdoc. There are other blogs who will discuss in more depth their neurodivergent headcanons and I see nothing wrong with that, I don’t really think there is any case that can’t be made, but I’m not especially confident making those cases myself. What I’ll say is that I don’t necessarily read Stu as having any specific learning disorder, because I fear it’s a little… iffy to have so many jokes in canon about him being thick or being slow. I think it really is just that, even prior to the injuries I reckon Stu was “a bit thick.” Head trauma doesn’t help that, though. Lifelong migraines and impaired motor function came about from the brain damage, absolutely, and I do imagine he must’ve suffered some neural response slowing, but his “lower intelligence” I feel a little less comfortable casually ascribing to anything and more to just Stu being Stu. Murdoc is also a case to be careful with, but within phase 3 it seems fair to say Murdoc suffers a psychotic break and is dealing with some delusions. Dangerously, I kind of lean into thinking this isn’t something that “just happened” because of the events of El Mañana and Plastic Beach, and that Murdoc had perhaps needed to be on an anti-psychotic like lithium well before that point. Again, I don’t want to insensitively represent this so I try not to really put such a fine point on things, but… I’m a little inclined to think Murdoc went undiagnosed in his young life and still may be demonstrating some effects of that. So, y’know, make what you will of it, but there’s that.

Sorry I nattered on about this, I do really enjoy examining both characters. Jokes about the drugs and stuff aside, I’ve always felt that the biggest difference between Murdoc and Stu is that Murdoc is adaptable, and Stu is malleable. Where that stems from is probably a combination of all these things. Murdoc knows what he wants and has no loyalties, he’s been without a future, he does what he can to succeed because he’s already done what he can to survive; Stu doesn’t know what he wants and he does have “loyalties,” but he has no sense of purpose, and he’s easily nudged in the direction you need him to go. While he can be stubborn, just like Murdoc, he’s also more sincerely shaped by his experiences even later in life into multiple, sometimes disparate versions of himself– I might even wager that’s why Stu becomes such a contradictory character without any of the contradictions feeling inauthentic. The two of them “being what they need to be” is part of the reason they accomplished as much as they did. But it’s also hard to say that they really “held on” to each other through the years, or if they just melded together in parts.

#Anonymous #sorry i'm late with this but i can't shut up #headcanon posts

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glowwormsmith · 4 years

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I wanna know ALL the angst questions for Iris, my latest fascination, because I’m always a slut for Eden’s Gate ocs and her playlist is full of BOPS seriously you have excellent taste in music 👌💕

asdfds thank you!!💗 I’m glad you like the playlist for her, I worked hard on it. It’s half sad, soft girl who loves her flower girlfriend, half horror movie villain lol. I also really like talking about Iris, since she’s an unrepentant follower of Faith and Joseph and I can make a complex villain. Let’s get into the angst.

oc angst questions here for reference!

(cw for child abuse/domestic abuse/mental illness/sexual trauma mentions/self-harm/suicidal thoughts and idealization below the cut. Let me know if you need anything else tagged.)

💙 If Iris were dying near Faith or Joseph, her final words would be nothing but gratitude and love for saving her, accepting her into their family and giving her purpose. With Faith, she would tell her she was the only person she ever loved and promises she’ll wait for her in the afterlife, even if she doesn’t truly believe in such deep down. If she is dying in the presence of her enemies, she will curse their names and go down like a bitch: taunting and spitting poison at them, defiant to the end.

In my story, Iris survives the Collapse and the events of “New Dawn;” she’ll most likely die of natural causes down the road, which the Deputy and Iris’s other victims find unfair.

💧 The worst physical pain she was in was when her father brutalized and locked her up in the basement for three days when she was fourteen because she was hanging out with a girl after-school and they came across her giving the girl a kiss; she doesn’t remember much about her past that was rife with abuse, but this moment has stuck in her mind due to the fact that this was the first instance of severe abuse and when she became a prisoner within her own family.

The worst pain she was in mentally was when Faith died. She had mainly healed from her past thanks to being with Faith and the Project; even when the Project was under siege by the Resistance, it was fine because she had Faith. When she came across Faith’s body in the river, Iris had a complete mental shutdown, simply holding Faith’s body in her arms and sitting on the river bank, talking to her as if she were alive. Only Joseph was able to pull Iris away from Faith and Iris needed time alone/with Joseph to process her grief.

🔷 While Iris does not regret leaving her dysfunctional and abusive family, she notes that it was a great leap of faith that culminated in more abuse while on the road; the only reason she never tried to go back was because she could not bear to be locked up again under the grip of her cruel and sadistic father, uncaring and cold older sister, and an awful uncle, aunt and cousins who helped in the abuse.

She was abandoned by her birth mother when she was ten, who had been her only source of comfort. Her mother’s abandonment gave Iris both a feeling of low self-worth but also a desire to be as brave as that woman to leave her prison one day, even if it was into an unknown and uncaring world.

🔵 Her home life was never pleasant and it grew worse when her mother ran off when Iris was ten. She became a captive within her own family at fourteen and she developed severe depression, anxiety, severe anger problems, suicidal idealization, and even sadistic tendencies as a result. She was able to escape after killing her sister in a fit of rage, though it didn’t get better as Iris became homeless and was further exploited on the road.

It is all a blur to her and she prefers it that way, with only a few key memories standing out in her mind. She had to overcome a lot of sexual trauma to show physical affection for Joseph and Faith, and even then they are the only two she allows to touch her. She has an inherent distrust of law enforcement (her aunt was a detective that helped to keep any suspicious people away) and has developed a fear of men, dogs, sex-repulsed, sharp objects, confined spaces and loud voices. She also wonders, in her moments of self-reflection, if she would have been a better person without her dysfunctional family, or if she was always this cruel and vindictive.

❄️ She regrets having to turn to prostitution, thievery and even murder while she was homeless. While she knows it wasn’t her fault that her family treated her awfully, she feels shame and disgust over what she had to do on the road, to the point where she wonders if she should have just died instead of kept going. Faith and Joseph have to continuously remind her that no, she’s not “dirty” or “bad” for having to survive and that if she chose to die, then they would never have gotten the chance to know her. While it makes her feel better to hear this from the two people she loves, the negative intrusive thoughts refuse to go away, so she copes by projecting onto others, becoming a bully and tormentor herself.

💦 She tended to self-harm before Eden’s Gate and she still tends to do it at her lowest of lows or if no one’s around. She also has the urge to be a huge asshole to others, as a way to get her pent-up frustration and bitterness and negative emotions out. This unfortunate habit is supported by EG because, even though Joseph wants to save as many people as possible, he allows his followers to fight the Resistance and she takes the opportunity to be cruel to “sinners.”

She has become somewhat reliant on the Bliss, since being in the Bliss makes all the bad thoughts go away.

🌊 Iris is a pretty mean-spirited and petty person, but she can hide it well to put up a sympathetic and sincere front. When she’s hit her low, she drops the facade and goes hard; pray you aren’t on the receiving end of her anger or if you’re dealing with her during an episode.

If she becomes triggered or has a panic attack, she’ll dissociate and find a quiet place out in the woods to curl up and wait to settle her mind. She’ll look to Joseph or Faith for comfort and reassurance she is fine, that they won’t leave her or let anyone harm her.

☄️ She does, though it has gotten better due to healing from Joseph and Faith. She only opens up to these two, though she has enough emotional intelligence (probably due to healing from them) to understand that they are the only two she can even genuinely love at this point. She is complex: on first glance, you’d think she wasn’t affected by her past at all, but more time and learning about her history that her experience has shaped Iris into her current personality and behaviors, even if she suppresses much of her memory. By the time of “New Dawn,” she has completely forgotten her past and only knows Eden’s Gate; the only trace memory of her past life is that “monsters made me a monster.”

🔹 She has scars on her arms and thighs from both self-harm and the abuse from her family. Her family were more careful not to leave evidence of the abuse, so most of the scars from them are mental. She hates looking at the scars because she sees them as her weakness and impurity, so she covers them up when she can. Iris has gotten so good at burying her past that most of the Resistance or even regular EG members simply believe she is an asshole or monster, without realizing that her past has made her this way.

To quote Daenerys Targaryen, “If I look back, I am lost.” Iris refuses to dwell on the past, purely seeing them as monsters she had to face before she found her true family, her true father who loves and protects her, and her true love of her life. By refusing to give thought to her birth family and life on the road, she both allows herself to bury the abuse and let the trauma and hurt manifest itself in her personality, relationships with others, and behavior. It’s both good and bad, and just like the Seed family, she really needs proper counseling but will never truly get it so she copes in different, sometimes even unhealthy, ways.

📘 Theme: Meet-Cute (have an angsty drabble with a happy/hopeful ending lol)

I want to die. I don’t want to, but I do. It hurts too much to keep going, but I’m too scared to end it.

It was funny how Iris realized the folly of her desire to both live and not live, how beautiful it would be to lie down in the field of white bell-shaped flowers, close her eyes and stop breathing, rotting back into the soil and letting her bones become home to the flowers and weeds and worms.

Before she was taken out of school, her English class had read Hamlet and she had been idealizing Ophelia since, a beautiful death, and she had looked at any river she passed with a longing to enter it and not come out. But then she remembered her mother, the ghost of a woman whose only true strength came in her running away into the unknown, and any attempt to end her life was half-hearted and abandoned, with the next thought turning to how she would get her next meal, with only three dollars in her pocket.

It doesn’t matter now. Food, shelter, dying by my own hand. They’re found me. Iris had seen them when she wandered into that small town, putting up pictures of her at sixteen near a dive bar and speaking to the town’s preacher. She had frozen only briefly before he slunk back into the shadows of the forest line and kept wandering. They had been searching for her the whole time since she killed the Bitch and left the Cage; the Monsters that had the nerve to call her blood. She allowed a small, bitter chuckle that it took two years to cross her path; she always knew she was the smart one among them...And then a hysteric sob burst out as she fell to her knees, her tongue tasting iron as her lip broke. She would die easy by their hands; they probably wouldn’t even kill her as they dragged her back “home.” The memories were coming back, no matter how she tried to push them down into the darkness: the Beast’s hands and voice and evil laughter, being dragged into the Dark Room again, feeling the pangs of hunger....Iris stopped her sobs, only letting the tears form but never cry.

No. She would not let herself be drawn back there. Not after escaping, not after putting herself through cruelty on the world just for the sake of freedom. Only she had the right to her body and mind and thoughts; no one, especially those Monsters, were going to take it away. Only she would be the decider of her fate.

Just as Iris was about to reach into her pocket to pull out the switchblade and steel herself to fight against her survival instinct, she heard singing. It was soft at first as Iris looked up and around the field of bell flowers.

“H-Hello?” she called out, voice hoarse. Perhaps I’m already dead. She then stood up and walked towards it, both curious and more of her survival instinct keeping her alive as long as possible.

The singing became clearer as Iris spotted a figure twirling in the field. It was a pretty sound, but there was no lyrics, just melodious humming and chiming.

The singing belonged to a beautiful young woman and Iris felt any unease at meeting a strange ease; she only had fear and mistrust of men, and this girl...was an angel. She was clad in a pure white dress, her dirty blonde hair hanging loosely to her shoulders and she was holding a flower as she danced without a care in the field. Even her bare feet looked untouched and mildly muddied, which only endeared Iris to this wood nymph.

She then took note of Iris, who was conscious of how dirty and plain she looked compared to the lovely girl’s pristine appearance, with matted red hair, grimy face, stench and tattered clothes she pulled from Goodwill and hardly replaced. Rather than look surprise or disgusted, the angelic girl smiled kindly.

“Hello, friend. Do you need help?”

“I...” Iris was unaccustomed to speaking to anyone in such a pleasant manner since her time on the road, let alone anyone asking her for help so kindly and without any secondary motivation. She blinked in confusion then looked behind her, afraid her family would suddenly appear with their horrid faces and harsh words to drag her away. She must have looked panicked when the girl’s brow furrowed in concern, though the sweet smile was still on her face.

Iris saw the girl open her hands towards her and she feared she would be touched so she drew back, but the girl kept her hands open, waiting for Iris to take them herself. Iris felt her hands fold together and began picking her skin with her nails, her eyes drawn towards the soft, clean hands. She had no right to touch them with her own dirty ones.

“I can take you to my home. We have warm food, showers and a place to rest. You seem to have been traveling for awhile. There’s no need to be afraid of me. My name is Faith; what’s your name?”

“...I-Iris. Umm...” God, she’s so pretty and kind. Like a real angel. Can someone like me be so lucky to be in her presence?

“That’s a beautiful name. Iris, would you like to come home with me?” Faith asked. “You’ll be safe there.”

Iris felt her mouth twist into a scowl. “Nowhere’s ever safe.” She cringed and thought that Faith would turn away from her now that she showed her ugliness, but Faith nodded and gave a quiet hum in agreement.

“I know all too well how unsafe this world and people can be. But there’s no where quite as safe as Eden’s Gate,” Faith said. “I know I’m a stranger to you, but all friends start as strangers, and if you come with me, you’ll finally feel the safest you’ll ever be.”

Iris looked to Faith and noticed her brown eyes, like a doe’s. All the barriers she put up with people melted away as she looked at the open, beautiful face, the soft lips curved in a smile. Iris gulped. Who knows how long the Monsters will be in this area for. “Alright. I’ll...I’ll take a leap of faith.”

Faith let out a chuckle at that, which sounded wonderful to Iris’s ears, and the girl took Faith’s hands into her own, was lead out of the field and into a new life.

#iris #fc5 oc #oc ask meme #abuse tw #self-harm tw #suicide mention tw #hope you like it #this really got long and heavy #casino-lights

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junker-town · 4 years

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Justice for Icebox and other memorable women in classic football movies

Becky “Icebox” O’Shea (Shawna Waldron) takes the field with her cheerleading skirt still on in Little Giants. | Little Giants/Warner Bros.

Unfortunately, in this case life still imitates art.

The first time you meet Icebox, arguably the protagonist of the 1994 classic Little Giants, is at pee-wee football tryouts. “Gentlemen, suck it up!” the coach shouts at the group of disheveled 10-year-olds, until one finally lays out the ball-carrier with a satisfying thud. “Oh baby, now we’re talking,” he says with a grin, running over to the group. “Nice pop, Icebox.”

“Thanks, Uncle Kev,” she replies, her long brown hair tumbling down as she pulls off her helmet. It’s intended to be a shock. “Can you BELIEVE a GIRL is playing FOOTBALL?!” the director practically screams at the viewer. But that shorthand — the reveal that beneath the comfortable anonymity of the helmet lies a girl — and its close relative, the ponytail sticking out from beneath the helmet, have become ubiquitous to the point of cliché throughout both popular culture and coverage of girls and women playing sports society still doesn’t expect girls and women to play.

Little Giants/Warner Bros.

The viewer sees Becky “Icebox” O’Shea (Shawna Waldron) for the first time — just after she takes off her football helmet — in Little Giants.

Yet for some reason, the helmet hair phenomenon still works despite the fact the movie is almost 30 years old. It’s enough of a twist to get your attention, in the same way that girls and women playing football still garner coverage based on nothing more than their decision to suit up — though they’re just the newest of more than a century’s worth of “girl gridders.” The seemingly immutable expectation that girls don’t play football, won’t play football and aren’t interested in football, though, has been repeatedly contradicted on the silver screen just as it is in reality. In fact, some of football’s most iconic films have featured girls and women who subvert that exact expectation, even as they reinforce a whole slew of other sexist stereotypes.

The central conflict of Little Giants — ostensibly a film about the (spoiler alert) triumph of dweeby male underdogs — is sexism. (It’s currently streaming for free on IMDBTV.) Becky “Icebox” O’Shea is introduced as one of the better football players her age, more than hanging with the boys at tryouts and putting one in a headlock when he gives her guff. Yet, of course, it’s not enough to make the team, a reality that is presented to the viewer as immediately, unequivocally unfair. “What about Becky?” her father Danny asks the coach, Kevin, who is his brother and a retired football star. “She’s better than half of those boys.”

“Danny, I hate to break it to you but Icebox is a girl,” Kevin replies. “Maybe if you started treating her like a girl, she’d start acting like one.” His response clarifies that he is the central villain; soon after, his own wife calls him “pigheaded and chauvinistic” for not letting Becky on the team. Becky, disappointed but unfazed, bands together with the other rejects to form a new team (after single-handedly running off their bullies), and the Little Giants are born.

One of the more compelling aspects of the movie is that the few characters who are skeptical about Becky’s ability — mainly Kevin and a late recruit named Spike — are unsympathetic. All the other kids and adults readily accept her passion and talent for the game. Her gender is never mentioned as a potential hindrance, and when she opts out of playing, the rest of the team is not just sad but afraid to compete without her. “Without Becky, we’re cream of wheat!” laments the kicker.

The same can’t be said of 2000’s Remember The Titans, the Disneyfied version of a true story where football is presented as a foolproof way to solve racism — and the directors make a halfhearted attempt to shoehorn sexism and homophobia cures in, too (intersectionality … question mark?). In Titans (currently streaming on Disney+), Sheryl Yoast, the nine-and-a-half-year-old daughter of the assistant coach Bill Yoast, is a football fiend to the point of practically being a savant. Like Becky, she’s depicted as the only child of a single father, a similarity that was far from coincidental: the real Sheryl had three sisters, lived with her mother, and didn’t care about football at all.

The heavily-fictionalized Sheryl (played by a young Hayden Panettiere) taps into a few different clichés. She’s extremely precocious, and precocious children are one convenient way to diffuse tense scenes (of which there are plenty in Titans). Her constant presence (explained by the passion for football and the single-parent family) makes Yoast more sympathetic, when he might otherwise seem uncomfortably similar to all the other racists in town. Mostly, her presence reiterates the idea that girls who like football must be explained. Without the feminizing influence of a mother, these films argue, it’s only logical girls will deviate from heteronormative expectation and dive into sports, which are still ultimately gendered male.

Remember The Titans/Walt Disney Pictures

Sheryl Yoast (Hayden Panettiere) and Coach Boone (Denzel Washington) watch film together — with Yoast offering some harsh words for his offense — in Remember The Titans.

“Why don’t you get this little girl some pretty dolls or something?” the otherwise undeniably great Coach Boone asks Yoast at one point, as Sheryl scowls. “I tried — she loves football,” Yoast replies. By the middle of the movie Sheryl and Boone are grinding tape together.

That brief moment of acceptance is about as good as it gets for Sheryl, despite the fact she’s the one who, at the movie’s most pivotal moment, compels her father to finally collaborate with Boone to win the state title. “Mama, are all white girls that crazy?” Boone’s own daughter asks at one point — a memorable line that unfortunately once again reinforces Sheryl’s difference, which is repeatedly shrugged off until it is ultimately ignored. Her interest in the game, convincingly depicted throughout the film, is nothing more than a means to an end.

Becky’s bugaboo, in contrast, isn’t that people don’t take her interest in the game seriously. Instead, it’s the other side of the double-edged sword that women in sports have to confront: the idea that sports are inherently anti-feminine, that it is impossible to play them wholeheartedly without implicitly rejecting all the things (white supremacist, cisheteropatriarchal) society deems valuable about being a woman.

Little Giants/Warner Bros.

Icebox tries on lipstick as she debates quitting football and becoming a cheerleader in Little Giants.

It’s wrapped up in her nickname, Icebox: When “hunk” Junior Floyd joins the team (keep in mind they’re all supposed to be around 10, which makes it a little weird), Becky’s instantly conflicted. “I’m the Icebox, the Icebox doesn’t like boys … I don’t get crushes,” she says as she eats powdered donuts straight from the box (the film’s proof positive of her lack of self-conscious femininity). Even at that early age, it’s presented as a given that girls will understand playing sports is perceived as antagonistic to heterosexual romantic relationships.

That internal conflict ties her to one of the least sympathetic women in football cinema, Any Given Sunday’s owner/general manager Christina Pagniacci (played by Cameron Diaz). For how nuanced a picture the Oliver Stone classic (currently streaming on Netflix) paints of life in professional football, the portrayals of women throughout the film are two-dimensional to the point of being confusing. (Why on Earth does Cap’s wife hit him when he says he wants to retire? Even the most stereotypical gold digger presumably has a little heart.) But Christina gets the most screen time out of any of them, enough to depict her character as Icebox ... if all Icebox’s worst fears were realized.

Pagniacci’s behavior throughout the film doesn’t seem much worse than how billionaire sports team owners are prone to acting (that is to say, very badly). She wants to move the Miami Sharks to Los Angeles to take advantage of tax incentives (where have we heard that one before?). She argues with the head coach constantly, which is presented as excessively combative even when she’s right — as in her insistence that the team should invest in the passing game and stop running the ball so much (how is this movie 20 years old?). She pushes to keep players on the field even when they’re not healthy, and her involvement in the team is centered on growing profits (which, obviously — that’s how ownership thinks).

Any Given Sunday/Warner Bros.

One of many disputes between Christina Pagniacci (Cameron Diaz) and Coach Tony D’Amato (Al Pacino) in Any Given Sunday.

But it’s a lot easier to make ownership the villain when ownership is a woman. Christina was modeled after late Rams owner Georgia Frontiere, who moved the team to St. Louis and had already inspired several money-grubbing, ice-queen lady-owner characters. Pagniacci’s greed and calculation are repeatedly lamented by the other characters on gendered terms: Instead of being savvy and pragmatic she’s hard-edged and heartless, characterized as such by a bunch of people who themselves could easily be described that way.

“He wanted a son more than anything else in the world, and when you really think about it, what Christina is is just such a tragedy,” her own mother tells Coach D’Amato (Al Pacino) within earshot of Christina, who cries silently in the next room (another confusing scene). “I honestly believe that woman would eat her young,” mutters the league commissioner towards the end of the film. It’s not enough for her to merely be the bad billionaire boss, which would be easy enough to make convincing. Pagniacci has to be presented as cold and distant — intrinsically undesirable, despite the fact she’s conventionally attractive — to make her villainy irrevocable. For women, there’s no redemption from men not liking you.

That’s what Becky realizes by the midpoint of Giants. In a patently strange scene, she sits down with her sexist uncle, torn up about why Junior doesn’t seem to like like her. “He’s probably gonna want some cute girl, not some teammate,” the fully-grown man tells his 10-year-old niece. “But I don’t know about being a cute girl — I’m good at sports,” Becky replies (again, being a girl and playing sports are shown as intrinsically at odds). “You have a lot more to offer than football,” her uncle says very creepily, in another classic deflection: sports are too bad or dumb or boring for a nice girl like you. “Do you think I’m pretty?” she asks. The strings swell, and Kevin replies, “I don’t think you’re pretty … I think you’re beautiful.”

The scene is so, so odd, and deeply out of sync with the rest of the movie to that point. Kevin was an unrepentant misogynist and then, suddenly, his “guidance” (telling Becky to be a cheerleader) is shown as positive. Becky takes his advice, quits the team before the big game and only comes back late in the game with her cheerleading skirt still on. It’s visual evidence of the compromise she’s already made: it won’t be possible for her to have both of the things she wants — the attention of boys and the chance to play sports — so something’s gotta give. It would be less depressing if it weren’t so often a reality: girls drop out of sports at remarkably high rates after puberty.

Becky’s star turn and unsatisfying conclusion probably shouldn’t have come as a surprise. Of course a girl was the center of an underdog story: Who’s more of an underdog in sports than a girl? Little Giants ends with the Annexation of Puerto Rico, a problematically-titled, game-winning play that holds a beloved place in sports lore. The play begins with Becky charging down the field, drawing all the defenders to her — after all, she’s one of the best players on the team. Once the opposing players are concentrated around her, she opens her arms: no ball. It was all just one, long fake.

Little Giants/Warner Bros.

Icebox reveals the fake during one of Little Giants’ most memorable moments, the Annexation of Puerto Rico.

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juleswolverton-hyde · 5 years

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Word by Word | 01 (Bangchan x Reader)

Genre: Fluff, Romance, University/College AU

Pairing: Graphic design student!Bangchan x Literature student!/Irish!Reader

Warnings: Swearing (but what can you honestly expect when dealing with an Irish person?)

Summary: An ancient saying dictates that polar opposites attract, which is proven once again once an introverted whiskey-loving aspiring author meets a fairly extroverted boy initially proposing to survive the loneliness brought about by academic administration together.

But soon the meaning of ‘together’ expands as personal creative worlds are explored and understanding stirs up hidden emotions.

Masterlist

Next Part

For anxious people, friendly support from strangers oddly turning into companions is often needed to get through the day, finding solace in the kindred spirit of the bond has been established despite being not worth a dime. The previous semester could only be survived thanks to the small group of friends that made the seminars more bearable, huddling together and always having at least one to have as a research partner or discuss a primary source with. Withal, the university administration has different plans for the second half of the year, resulting in the complete split from familiar faces which will now only be seen on Monday for the start of the academic week with lectures.

Henceforth, yesterday was only the misleading silence before the storm, chatting and fooling around with curiously close relationships during the day. As per usual, multiple pairs of shoes found themselves to the habitual café by the canal to go for lunch together in between lectures, but a lonesome soul listening to the vivid chatter only settled for a cup of coffee since the stomach could possibly not handle more because of the all-nighter working on the next chapter of the attempted novel and composing a few more poems for a to-be-published-someday poetry bundle.

A chip off the old block, taking after the grandfather who raised a timid girl to become like this: full of too many voices and writing them down since that is the only acceptable form of schizophrenia in today’s society. Fortunately, it is while enjoying the company of Dante, a Birman with hellishly blue eyes of an extremely distrustful and arrogant nature except when being with an aspiring author rivalling with a relative. He mostly lies on the duvet on nights filled with the self-inflicted torture of bleeding behind a typewriter, occasionally jumping on the desk beneath the attic window where often a raven nicknamed Edgar settles down and demanding to be pet whenever a repose is taken for a glass o’ Irish whiskey when threatening to fall on hard creative times. Otherwise, dirty bean water is grand as well. Whatever the case, Dante conveniently though perfectly times it each time.

In the meanwhile, Virgil is likely functioning as company for Charles, who is also known as “Grandfather” during formal events of which most relate to publishing houses and to which he always has to be dragged while muttering unintelligible Gaelic profanities. Alternatively, it is the first full name whenever competing with one another or simply “Charlie” when the old balding man with a snow white moustache reviews the latest result of typing on the historic sidekick of every author. According to the in-house editor and occasional enemy, a typewriter is the sole source of ‘’pure writing’’ and imprinted the habit of working with the old school machine as soon as hands were able to write the letters formerly merely read in books.

For those unfamiliar with the cats, it is impossible to draw a distinction between the two, but those who look closer notice that Virgil does not share the same eye colour with his brother, the ocean grey betraying the fact the fluffy bastard is indeed that.

A bastard.

Exactly like his owner and the owner’s granddaughter who was also born out of wedlock.

However, even in Dante there is a trace of being not a full blood Birman since his slender skull hints at a Ragdoll influence though the selective sweetheart would never admit to it even if the ability of speech had been given to cats.

All in all, all of us are outcasts so it has become the running joke beneath the roof of the outskirts mansion we are glorious bastards. Honestly speaking, it has a nice ring to it because if being separated from others for whatever reason counts as a qualification for becoming this, then the lack of pals in primary and high school is not minded. The same goes for the adoption by a loving howbeit harshly critical grandfather because the son who should have been a proper father could not bear the sight of the offspring originating in a scandalous affair with a secretary who had no mother instinct at all, thus sharing in the shallowness with her one-time lover.

Whiskey story nights filled with almost empty pens, digits stained with ink, reading breaks and lots of swearing in frustration or joy have come to form a steady aspect of life, Charlie clearly in a better mood when settling down to shape the rough paper diamonds in each other’s company despite the exchange of insults pertaining to manuscripts or in a loving manner. An Irishman can leave Ireland, but the Irishness will never leave the individual and the island tales that at times seem mere fantastic fancies create a bond with a heritage that would otherwise have never been known.

It is because of Charles, his upbringing that has not been without it struggles, and Dante and Virgil I am still here, exerting power as an author on the Internet after creating a manuscript on the typewriter that once belonged to the moustached man’s close American friend who, too, had a taste for liquor and a talent for writing.

Apparently, one night at a party, this comrade was hit in the face by a drunken accountant who tried his hand at poetry nobody understood and insulted the boxer’s manhood, causing the offended party to strike the provoker down in drunken rage. Fortunately for the injured, the American was willing to forgive the insult after being offered an apology and the next day the papers reported the incomprehensible poet fell down the stairs, the accident resulting in a broken hip alongside other injuries, thus covering up the truth of being beaten black and blue.

When asking why nothing was done to stop the fight from escalating, the answer is always the same. ‘It was too much fun to see that idiotic sod being beaten up. Furthermore, he had it coming sooner or later because he was a fecking racist prick, Y/N. It was more of a service than a true crime.’

Basically, Granddad sat back with a bowl of popcorn and cheered his boxing buddy on.

Truly a gentleman bastard.

As proves to be an inherent characteristic, judging by the rage coming from the classically furnished writing room on the east side of the house bought with the royalties from writing pieces critical of the human condition and problems rooted in society under the guise of a cleverly composed story. ‘Virgil! For fuck’s sake, ye bloody gobshite!’

‘Charlie, how’s she cuttin’?’ Not so well, judging by the look of pure horror in fast passing stone-toned irises with elated pupils framed by deep earthy brown fur and liquid onyx paw prints creating a trail on the freshly mopped floor. What a way to leave the house before facing the horror of being left alone at the university because everyone has been placed in a different time slot. ‘Although, never mind.’

In the faux leather spinning chair behind the intricately designed baroque desk, agitated calloused fingers run through pale thin hairs while lips are pulled into a snarl at the sight of the obsidian pool of ink staining the pile of blank pages meant to be engraved with poetry. ‘Well, this is just fucking grand, isn’t it?’

‘Think about your blood pressure, ye aren’t all that spry anymore and your fans will not like it if you kick the bucket already.’ Grinning like the purple cat in the favourite story to listen to while sitting by the hearth during childhood, dark flats wander the afromosia floor to the stout big man with an irritated iron gaze that slightly softens at the sight of the lass raised as a daughter rather than a granddaughter, the pupil who has turned more and more into a peer as time went by. ‘And Virgil isn’t as graceful as Dante, prone to causing accidents yet you love him all the same.’

‘Ah, feck off.’ An eyebrow raises in question when settling down into the fauteuil in front of the bureau, casually crossing one leg over the other and endeavouring to suppress the pressing yawns as best as possible. ‘It’s yer first day of university after a week of being a dosser and you pulled an all-nighter while having to show up early. You’re not the full shilling, are ye?’

‘No. No, I’m not, but you are what you eat. I’m fine, Charlie. And I worked on a couple of poems, mind you, and also wrote two more chapters for Paper Wonderland. Furthermore, I read ahead for this block’s course so, overall, I’ve been productive.’

‘You haven’t been until I’ve seen the first drafts.’ It is a house rule: there are no actual original versions of a part of a tale unless the stern editor has seen it and given feedback. Otherwise, it is nothing more than stained paper.

‘Oi, I want to keep some element of surprise to blow you off yer socks when you read the full result. Where’s the fun in being spoiled beforehand when it can become the reason I’ll finally conquer the throne you’re currently sitting on. One day, one day I’ll finally be recognized as more than mere family.’

The mentor stands up to walk around the chaotically ruined heavy piece of furniture to put an encouraging hand on the shoulder and give it a little encouraging squeeze, which gets nullified by a comment that makes the characteristic need for rivalry flare up. ‘Keep dreaming about that day, ye wee chiseler, and maybe, just maybe you’ll manage.’

A sarcastic mirthless chuckle functions as a nullifying factor for the elder’s smugness while standing up from the oddly comfortable espresso brown chair to head for the door. ‘You really like throwing shapes, don’t ye, gramps?’

‘As much as any grand man.’ The old great man matches the pace to the young feet eventually coming to a halt at the entrance of the writing office.

At the double doors, on the edge of a casual temporary farewell, all devilishness fades away into fatherly concern due to the realization a difficult social challenge has to be faced, having had many conversations about the introverted anxiety of a mask-wearing lass who merely acts like a young professional while working as a barista to earn a little cash on the side. ‘Take that puss off yer face, Y/N. You’re gonna be grand because you’re a full-grown woman with an Irish background. We’re tough people made of iron who don’t take anyone’s intimidation.’

Two big wrinkled hands wrap themselves around upper arms clad in a neatly-ironed alabaster collared shirt as a moustached mouth places a familial hope-giving smooch on the forehead before giving the right cheek a weak playful slap. ‘Now, go, you fine thing. Maybe you’ll catch the eye of a proper laddie.’

‘Feck off.’ A playful punch on the shoulder undoes the intimacy and grants the opportunity to crack on to catch the bus towards doom after putting on a khaki trench coat and slinging the stone-grey laptop bag over the shoulder.

‘I don’t recommend effin’ and blindin’, though. Tends to give a bad image,’ is the last piece of laughingly uttered advice which is seemingly also disregarded howbeit with an absently-minded waving hand wandering down the sandstone cobblestone path towards the main road.

And before taking an immediate right out of the gate towards the nearest bus stop, the other one holds the habitual saviour in the form of a book already.

An opportunity to escape the nervousness brought about by cruel reality that is taken away when bumping into someone, an accident which still tends to happen despite the mastery of avoidance skills, and the account of the life of a bookseller falls onto the concrete.

Eyes as big as a doe’s when caught in the headlights of a rapidly approaching car stare in horror at annoyed molten chocolate irises above an admittedly adorable big nose, irritated by an ignorant daydreamer under the constant scrutiny of the world, which quickly gain a weird gentleness when truly looking back. ‘I’m so, so fe- sorry. I should watch where- no, watch my footing. Again, I’m so sorry.’

Please, don’t get mad. Grand job, Y/N. The day’s barely begun and you already messed up.

‘It’s alright.’ Bleached short locks clad in an onyx leather jacket squat down to pick up the paperback on the ground, long pale fingers dusting off the little dirt the impact of the fall has caused to stain the cover before handing it back. ‘You dropped this.’

Trembling hands accept a small piece of peace of mind, gaze averted from the small fading kind smile on the young man’s face to stare with burning cheeks and a raving heart at dark flats aching to flee the situation. ‘Thanks.’

‘Miss? Are you alright?’ The lost distant type of contact from just a second ago is futilely tried to be re-established, unable to connect thus to a soul with a thousand voices within now all rendered to a flustered whisper.

‘Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll- I need to go. Don’t want to miss the bus.’ A curt nod ends the conversation abruptly, turning away as fast as lightning while muttering a form of apologetic goodbye as the walking pace enhances to a speed barely shy of running. ‘Again, my apologies.’

However, as Fate or mere coincidence would have it, this meeting is not the last as tracks are silently retraced by foreign sneakers as blasting songs from various genres disclose the world from a never tranquil consciousness.

A few minutes more the blissful unknowing continues, reading irises stuck in the sceptic description of a man able to do what wants to be done in case becoming a writer does not work out.

A few minutes more the wind has the possibility to play freely with locks without it being noticed nor minded.

Then all changes with the approach of the awaited vehicle.

The loudness comes back with the bus.

And an ink-black leather jacket.

#Kpopwonderlandtag #Stray Kids #SKZ #Stray Kids x Reader #Stray Kids fanfiction #Bangchan #Bang Chan #Chan #Chris Bang

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animebw · 4 years

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Binge-Watching: Monster, Episodes 71-74

And so, this dark journey finally reaches its end. Let’s take stock of what was lost, what was gained, and what remains to be discovered.

The Final Escape

Despite what the Rolling Stones might lead you to believe, it isn’t always easy to sympathize with the devil. When people do objectively horrible things that unquestionably hurt people, the scars that damage leaves behind can fester like an infection long after they’ve passed through. It’s hard to forgive the people who hurt you, to make peace with the pain they’ve caused. And when you’ve caused as much damage as a certain Johann Liebert, that sympathy comes especially hard. Countless people are dead thanks to him, countless more emotionally broken, and the overall human cost of his search for the perfect suicide isn’t quantifiable. He’s an unquestionable monster, and he deserves no cover for that. So it’s confusing to me that right at the very end, Monster decides that Johann deserves a kinder end than he himself has allowed anyone else who’s gotten in his way. But even more confusing than that? The fact that it almost works.

See, as indisputably evil as Johann is, there’s always been something truly pitiable about that evil, something that’s become especially clear as we finally learn the full story of his circumstances. His family was subjected to the worst humanity had to offer, and he in turn dedicated himself to sharing that darkness right back to the rest of humanity. He’s a cruel, sociopathic murderer, but he’s also an emotionally traumatized child seeking to make the world understand his pain right before he takes his own life, because death is the only solution that makes sense to him anymore. Humanity is flawed and broken, miserable and cruel, and the only way we’re truly equal is when we’re six feet under. In a way, he sees what he’s doing as a kindness, freeing the people he rips apart from the pain of pretending they’re worth something and getting them to accept their inherent ineptitude without a fuss. Any way you slice it, there’s something deeply sad about that him, a broken boy who doesn’t even realize how deeply he’s been broken trying to break everyone around him under the belief he’s saving them. He doesn’t even know his own name, for Christ’s sake, he could wipe himself off the face of the map and leave no legacy of his true self behind. It’s no wonder Nina can’t help but feel sympathy for him; hell, feeling sympathy for him might genuinely be the most direct way to oppose the darkness he spreads. When a person can wreak so much havoc, and yet you can still find some glimmer of connection to their basic humanity underneath, then maybe mankind isn’t as hopeless as Johann believes it to be.

Whoever They Want to Be

And this final stretch of episodes is all about proving that fact: humanity is stronger than despair. Johann sees the world as a black vortex spiraling down into a singularity of entropy, and he sees his mission to be helping the world along that course. But in his blindness, he fails to see the ways that everyone around him is escaping that vortex. All the people he’s hurt, everyone who’s lost their names, everyone who’s been drawn into his game, they’re all finding ways to reject his darkness and keep faith in the light. Hell, Klaus Pope, the man responsible for turning him into a monster in the first place, completely turned over a new leaf when he fell in love with the twins’ mother and realized the horrors he was perpetuating. He slaughtered everyone who knew of their existence in the Re Rose Mansion and gave them a new lease on life, a blank slate to completely reinvent themselves and become someone better. At last, his words to Nina in the past make sense: “People can become whoever they want to be.” It’s a statement not of terror, but of hope. It’s speaking to a girl who’s been stripped of her name- her very identity- and telling her that losing who she is doesn’t have to keep her from growing into who she has the potential to become. Johann’s so obsessed with bringing closure to his dead end of a life that he doesn’t even consider the possibility that maybe living with the name “Johann” can be just as much his true self as the boy whose name was long forgotten. All he has to do is try.

And these last episodes are full of people who try- and succeed- to become whoever they want to be. Lunge lets go of his preconceptions, accepts a world far more complex than the one he initially saw, and apologizes to Tenma for hounding him for so long. And determined to make right what he set so wrong, he throws himself headfirst into the chaos and puts an end to one of Johann’s most dangerous minions. It’s a brutal, stomach-turning fight, capturing the unsteady weight of two wounded combatants fighting each other on their last fumes of energy, more a test of their endurance than an outright punch-up. But seeing Lunge embrace his inner badass and go toe-to-toe with such a dangerous man was a thrilling sight nonetheless, especially when he jams a gun straight down Roberto’s throat and roars his vision of the apocalypse into submission. Christ, man, when did he get so cool? But even that’s nothing compared to Grimmer’s final moment of glory. Fuck me with a chainsaw, I wasn’t ready to bid him goodbye. Grimmer’s always been a man tormented by everything stolen from him, but he’s never given up on reclaiming the humanity he lost. And at last, surrounded by the bodies of enemies he took down with his own two hands, accepting the cost of taking lives upon his own head instead of the magnificent Steiner, he cries for the son he lost all those years ago. He cries for the years of pain and misery he went through, for the joys he experienced, for the hope that drove him for so long and finally laid him down to rest. And as his last tears streak down his face, Wolfgang Grimmer accepts his life right as it comes to an end. Johann was wrong after all: the monster was able to become human all along.

And that’s what ultimately drives Tenma to save Johann’s life once again. After all, death is what the Monster wanted. He wanted to go quietly into that good night, erasing all evidence of his crimes and existence from the face of the earth as if he was never real at all. It was the ultimate statement of nihilism, a desire to express humanity’s complete hopelessness in a single, furious funeral pyre. But Tenma isn’t about to let him win. He saved the life of a boy 10 years ago because that boy was a person in need, and he was a doctor with a job to do. Whoever that boy was, whoever he would grow up into, the simple fact remained that he was a human life. And human life, in the end, is still created equal, with the same opportunities for triumph and despair, for good and evil, for life and death. Johann sought to destroy the world, but once his last massacre is over, it doesn’t take long to see the seeds of hope and humanity return to the survivors as they patch up the wounds and start the long, painful process of healing (”Sorry to interrupt, but I still need you ID.”) No matter how high the ashes pile, a phoenix can still find a way to shine through. And so, just as he did ten years ago, Doctor Kenzo Tenma saves the life of a dangerous criminal, someone with far too much blood on his hands. Because that criminal, at the end of the day, isn’t the monster he imagines himself to be.

All he is... is human.

And sometimes, that’s all one needs to be.

Parting Shot

Still, I can’t help but wonder if this ultimate message of moving forward was communicated as clearly as it could have been. There are still some lingering uncertainties I have about this show, questions that weren’t answered and are just left dangling awkwardly. The show’s ending scene throws an entirely new piece of the puzzle at us just when we thought the puzzle was finished, and I honestly have no idea to process what was even going on there. Was that all in Tenma’s head, or was Johann talking to him? Why was the twins’ mother grasping onto two girls in that flashback? This is now the third time we’ve gotten explicit confirmation that Johann often dresses up like Nina, both in the past and present, but for what purpose? What point is there to him not knowing which one of them his mother offered up to the authorities? Is he supposed to be trans, or is that reading entirely off base? I don’t get what it adds to the emotional tapestry, but more pertinently, I don’t even get how it makes sense. Nor do I quite understand what was going on with Nina taking in two different voices in the vampire house; was she speaking as Johann? As some “true self” that isn’t fully explained? It’s one thing to have an ambiguous ending, it’s another to muddle the waters of an ending that, up until that point, was actually pretty clear and straightforward. It just makes things needlessly confusing right as it’s far too late to make things any less confusing.

I’m also not really satisfied with the way the drunk plays into things at the end. On the one hand, props for ruining Johann’s attempt to make Tenma kill him and giving the doctor the chance to save his life and prove him wrong. On the other hand, though, this guy in no way earns the easy redemption the show gives him. Suddenly Pope’s reassuring his kid that his father “isn’t that kind of guy” when all we’ve seen of him up until this point is drunken abuse, both physical and verbal, and it’s completely disingenuous. This guy wasn’t a bad egg broken by circumstance, he was a genuinely awful human being who was presented as causing nothing but pain, and suddenly everyone just forgives him for abusing his fucking kid? Christ, anime just does not know how to effectively tackle abusive parents, does it? Your Lie in April, Symphogear, Princess Principal, and now even Monster, all far too quick to forgive the active malice of authority figures whenever they so much as hint at regretting their actions. I get the ultimate point is being supportive of humanity’s potential to be better than our worst selves, but that doesn’t mean you should just be forgiven for the damage you caused. That’s what makes me kinda leery about this whole ending; is this really making an intelligent point on recognizing the humanity of even the worst people, or is this just being far too quick to “both sides” good and evil? It’s a frustrating ambiguity that Monster could’ve easily gone without.

Tomorrow Comes

Still, for all my complaints and uncertainties, I can’t deny that I am very satisfied with the ending of Monster. Just as Tenma’s been saying all along, tomorrow has come, and it’s a far better day than what came before. Eva’s getting her shit in order and becoming a stable adult at last, Lunge’s starting to reconnect to his fractured family, and Nina’s just graduated college and is setting out on her new life. She’s taken Pope’s advice to heart; even if she’s no longer the person she used to be, she’s still able to make her new self her own, and Nina Fortner ain’t such a bad person to be. Tenma, meanwhile, has finally cleared his name and has returned to working as a highly talented neurosurgeon, once more devoted to the cause of saving lives and trusting in the inherent value of human life. And with a visit to the twins’ mother, the last surviving keeper of their legacy, he at last knows their true names. The people they once were won’t fade away as Johann wanted; they will linger on, a legacy carried on by a man who never stopped believing in mankind’s capacity to redeem itself.

As for Johann? Well, he’s just escaped police confinement after spending a good year in a coma. But who will he be now? What does his future hold in story? Will he turn right back to darkness, or will he seek a brighter path? Who will this lost, lonely boy decide to become now? We’ll never know the answers to those questions. But frankly, we don’t need to know.

Because despite everything, the boy who gave up on himself now has another chance to become whoever he wants to be.

And sometimes, that’s all that really matters.

Odds and Ends

-”You’re not going to die today, and that’s final.” In any other context, this line would be really uplifting. Here? Chills to the bone.

-I forgot how much The Magnificent Steiner reminds me of All Might. Lol.

-”As a police officer, you might say I take a professional interest in the name of the man who kills me.” When did my boy get so sassy?

-And that’s why you never trust someone with their hand hidden behind furniture. Chances are, they’ve got a gun pointed right at you.

-Roberto is Adoplh Reinhart? Grimmer’s childhood friend from way back when? Fucking sucks, man.

-Ah, of course it was Pope who visited that night. And it was only when he left that Johann decided to light the fires of hell again rather than return to him.

God damn, what a show this has been. Expect my closing thoughts later tonight, as well as what show will take its place!

#anime #the anime binge-watcher #tabw #monster #naoki urasawa's monster

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fairycosmos · 4 years

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Im in a long distance relationship with my gf and tomorrow im gonna see her after 3 months (we should have met in october for my bday but she kept putting off until now) and she's told me that "we need to talk" and im so so so scared that she wants to break up but i still love her so much even tho she kind of treats me like shit sometimes and idk im going full anxiety and idk what to do. Might be good to get out of that relationship but i dont have any friends and i tought she was the one u kno

:(( hi lovee im so sorry. while it sounds like an unhealthy dynamic, i really hope that whatever you both decide going forward is fair to you and your feelings. seems like what you want has been neglected so far, dude. my initial thought is that you don't deserve to put up with mistreatment just because it feels like a form of companionship - that it's always better to be alone than with someone who makes you feel lonely. i understand that when you have no self esteem or a troubled past it can be incredibly difficult to stand up for yourself, but there comes a point where you have to recognize that it's ok to seek what you are willing to give. by that i mean effort, kindness and reciprocation. if those things can't be found in your current partner, then that is your closure. you can't control her words or actions, they are merely a reflection of her character. but you can control what and who you allow in your life. you can't control the negative thoughts n feelings, but you can control your physical response and whether or not you attempt to help yourself through it in a healthy way. even when your brain is telling you to self destruct. of course that doesn't mean you're not allowed to be heartbroken and hurt, to feel like it's all impossible. and maybe that part of the process is inevitable. im sure you care for this girl a lot. losing a presence in your life is always fucking awful. goes beyond words. there's no rule book for how to handle it. if you need to cry, and grieve, then allow it. you're entitled to these emotions and though theyre often painful, registering them is necessary. and they do not stick if you don't hold onto them. focus on getting through one day at a time, and if that feels like too much, one hour at a time. it all counts. also, it could just be that your gf wants to talk about something unrelated, but that's honestly not as important as understanding why you inherently have worth with or without her. your mind probably won't let you accept that as an objective fact, but it is true. you're a whole person on your own. and just because you're in a tough emotional spot with a smaller social circle right now, doesn't mean you're unworthy or that have to deal with bullshit all the time. doesn't mean it's always going to be this way, either. so many people are going to treat you right in your life. they're just hard to come by, for all of us really. ultimately the circumstances you're in are not some personal failure on your part, ok? whatever your gf wants, however it turns out, i really hope you're able to approach the situation with mutual respect being a requirement, a make or break. even if feels like you're faking the confidence/ positive self talk at first. anyway sorry this got long angel, i just hope you're ok n that you know you're not as alone as you feel. a lot of people out there can relate. if you need a friend or if you want to talk about anything, i'll be here. sending warmth 💌

#anon

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neriad13 · 4 years

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Best of the Best Media Consumed 2019!

This year I had a whole lot of focus on nonfiction, film and comics. Resolution for next year: read more fiction. Seriously, I read over three times more nonfiction than fiction this year. I read a little over one novel a month. But I really do love picking up a book on something I know nothing about and coming away knowing more than something. X-P

Anyway! The list!

Books - Fiction

Out of the 17 works of fiction I read this year, the best of the best is...

The Snow Queen, by Joan Vinge

The Snow Queen was one of my absolute favorite fairy tales as a child. The 2002 film adaptation of it was one of the things I watched endlessly.

It was SO MUCH FUN picking apart this sci-fi retelling and discovering which characters are meant to represent the ones from the original story (of particular interest: the character representing the reindeer is human in this...and he has a one night stand with the character representing Gerta. Yes, I’m still cracking up about this. Yes, it actually was a pretty well written scene).

But the absolute best part of it was the masterful characterization. Every single character has ulterior motives and often heartbreaking reasons for why they are the way they are - especially including the Snow Queen herself, whose final scene is horrifying, tragic and beautiful.

I always like me some solid villain characterization.

Runner Up:

Fairy Tales: Traditional Stories Retold for Gay Men

I am not a gay man...but this very much spoke to me. It was at turns heartwarming and hilarious and the turns these fairy tales took felt so natural, like they’d been told that way all along.

There are also many allusions to AIDS in the stories - sometimes as something a character is directly dealing with whether in himself, or a loved one and sometimes under the guise of a metaphor for inevitability. These ones were my favorites (aside from The Frog Prince, which was turned into a metaphor for accepting the process of aging with grace).

Books - Nonfiction

Oh boy. There’s...definitely going to be more than one here. Of the 65 works of nonfiction I read this year, my favorites were...

Smoke Gets in Your Eyes & Other Lessons From the Crematory

A memoir about the author’s time spent working as a crematory operator and her entry into the funeral business. This book was absolutely hilarious (it contains a story about the author getting absolutely soaked with corpse fat that wouldn’t stop flowing straight out of the incinerator), tragic (a 12 year old girl is cremated and her ashes are mailed back to her parents as part of a cremation mail-in program) and extremely poignant (the author talks openly about the time she was contemplating suicide).

I love Caitlin’s youtube channel and I loved this book even more.

My Age of Anxiety

Partially the memoir of a man who has battled his extreme anxiety his entire life, a historical study of famous figures who have also endured it and a scientific look into why it exists at all.

Ultimately, it offers no answers. As of the writing of the book, the author has found no treatment that helps him for longer than a few months. But what he has found over the course of his research is that he is not alone - that anxiety has historically been a factor in scientific breakthroughs and artistic accomplishments. And that perhaps most importantly, that anxiety has been a key part of human evolution from the start, which served a vital role in the survival of the species.

Mental illness or evolutionary adaptation? Is there even a line between them?

Cassell’s Encyclopedia of Queer Myth, Symbol and Spirit

This is the only book, period, devoted to queer mythology, that I have ever been able to find. But the good news is that it’s fairly extensive (though the authors themselves admit that they had trouble finding as much information about non-western mythology as they did for western mythology), is chock full of references and is extremely thorough in the information it presents.

I’ll admit that it was a slog to get through at times, but what it’s provided has been invaluable to my conception of history and my own place in it.

Also, I can now say beyond a shadow of a doubt that almost every culture on earth has at some point in their history had a tradition of transgender shamans.

Hope After Faith

This is the memoir of a charismatic Pentecostal pastor turned atheist. It follows him from teenagerhood and the beginnings of his dream to be a preacher to a little bit after his deconversion decades later.

The eventual crumbling of his faith was something that spoke to me on a deep level. The scene that I still think about months later is the one in which he finally gives up his belief in the afterlife and accepts the finality of death by saying goodbye to everyone he ever loved who has died with the words “I love you, but I’m never going to see you again.”

I was not a huge fan of the writing style at first, but this one won me over totally and completely. It touched me immensely at the time when I needed it most.

Comics - Fiction

I read 52 fictional comics this year and 46 nonfiction. I absolutely raided my library’s graphic novel section for months. It was a good time.

Beautiful Darkness

A French graphic novel wherein tiny people survive and feud over the corpse of the child they came from. It’s...hard to explain. Kind of a fairy tale Lord of the Flies, but more subtly horrifying. It’s a story about decay and collapse - of society, of the physical form, of the dreams of a child. It has no single interpretation and different people may take something very different from it. The most inventive horror story I read this year.

My Brother’s Husband

A story about microaggressions and how their buildup over time can drive a wedge between people without them even noticing. I cried. Go read it.

Mis(h)adra

A semi autobiographical account of a college student learning how to live with his epilepsy. I also cried over this one.

The art is stunning, the metaphors are amazing (the main character’s epilepsy is visually portrayed as a set of ghostly knives that follow him around) and the ending is extremely affecting if you’ve ever dealt with any kind of chronic illness.

Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba

The absolute most fun I had reading a comic this year. Gets extremely dark and incredibly sad but never feels overwhelmingly heavy, thanks to its great sense of humor.

Edward Scissorhands: Parts Unknown + Whole Again

A series of adventures set decades after the movie, after Kim’s death, in a time when her granddaughter begins wondering if the stories about the castle on the hill are true.

It deals with such issues as the difficulties Kim had with her daughter growing up, when all she would do is tell stories about Edward rather than give her the emotional support she needed, whether removing the thing that both makes you unique and brings pain is worth it and how to stop angry villagers from burning down your house (again).

Also, seeing Edward be surrounded by a group of friends who care about him was extremely healing.

Comics - Nonfiction

My Solo Exchange Diary vol 1-2

A series of updates about the author’s continuing battle with mental illness and about how recovery is anything but a straight line.

Can’t We Talk About Something More Pleasant?

Finally, some light reading!

It’s a memoir about the decline and death of the author’s aging parents.

I found it...extremely comforting. Extreme old age, whether in one’s self or in one’s loved ones, is a scary and often obscured prospect, despite being a near-universal human experience. This book took the mystery out of aging and the fear out of taking care of aging parents. I’ve seen it done now. I’m more ready to do it myself.

The Best We Could Do

A memoir of the author’s family’s flight from Vietnam and their immigration to America, through the lens of the birth of the author’s first child. About how being a refugee changes a person in small, often unexpected ways, how trauma leaves its mark on families - and how, knowing all this, one can still keep living and raising the next generation.

Film - Fiction

I caught up on a lot of classics I’d not seen before and really got into Jidaigeki this year. Me putting only four of them on the list is a show of restraint. Of the 64 films I watched this year...

The Fall of the House of Usher

Impeccable costume and psychedelic set design. The unanswered question that bounces throughout the entire movie: is it the curse or is it the fault of human belief in the curse?

Patch your walls, dude.

A Monster With a Thousand Heads

A Mexican thriller about a woman whose husband is denied cancer treatment for seemingly no reason. The doctor gives her the runaround. No one can answer her questions. No one listens to her.

So, naturally, she and her teenage son spend a night kidnapping and holding at gunpoint every person she needs to get her husband’s cancer treatment approved. Wild and intense and timely.

Dr. Strangelove or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb

I watched a couple of Kubrick movies I hadn’t seen before and of them...I died laughing at this one. The tight plotting! The inevitable buildup to disaster over something so insanely stupid!

I did not live during the Cold War, but damn do I feel for the inherent ridiculousness of it now.

Seven Samurai

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAFGFTRTRNHUKIJUHNJNHHHHHHHHHHHHYHYHYHYHYHYHYHYHYXCVVGGERDSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!

...this movie is insanely good. I watched Citizen Kane this year. This movie’s better.

It has a plot which can be described in its totality, in a single sentence - a group of samurai are hired to defend a village from bandits - but what they do with that premise is so much more than that.

This movie is three hours long. It did not lag once.

Hara Kiri

As the Tokugawas secure their grip on all of Japan, war ceases. Great houses are dissolved and their retainers, cast into the streets. The relevance of the samurai is ending and the cities are awash in starving ronin.

Once, one of these starving ronin approached a great house, asking if he might be able to end his life honorably, in front of witnesses there. So impressed was the lord with this ronin’s resolve, that he instead hired him on as one of his retainers.

Hearing this story, other ronin, having no intention of actually offing themselves, tried the same trick in the hopes of securing a job, or at the very least, a little something to eat.

It became a common scam which, in the end, fooled no one. Most houses gave the ronin a handful of cash and sent them on their way.

But one house, seeking to preserve their warlike spirit in these peaceful times, chooses to treat one beggar ronin very differently.

This is the story of vengeance taken for that death.

Yojimbo

A ronin enters a town that is being torn apart by gang warfare and decides to play both sides in order to end the conflict. It contains such comedic gems as:

- the ronin suddenly deciding not to take part in a street battle, leaving both sides evenly matched and extremely nervous about fighting each other, while he watches it all from the top of a watchtower, laughing his ass off

- the ronin is critically injured and being smuggled out of town in a coffin. A fight breaks out while this is happening and scares away one of the people carrying the coffin. A less intelligent goon of the gang he just escaped from is cheerfully recruited to carry the coffin the rest of the way

- standing up in the coffin, declaring that he’s fine and immediately fainting

Also, you should totally bring a knife to a gun fight.

Ran

A jidaigeki reimagining of King Lear.

A visually astounding, sweeping epic with amazing acting and a complex interplay of conflicting passions which might just be more bleak than the original play.

The scene in which the main character goes mad and is cast out into the wilderness is especially haunting.

Jojo Rabbit

I don’t think I’ve EVER experienced such violent mood whiplash in a movie before. One moment you’re crying-laughing from a joke that hit with absolute perfection and the next you’re...actually crying. In the same scene. Within thirty seconds. Multiple times. It is the oddest feeling to be so elated by the best joke in the entire movie while every character we’ve come to know across the course of the movie is in the process of dying violently. It’s not a feeling everyone’s going to like, but for me it was completely new and fantastic.

The best part of the movie is the main character’s relationship with Imaginary Friend Hitler. He’s wildly funny and relentlessly charming. I got excited every time he appeared in a scene and was, oddest of all, actually comforted by his presence.

He was all of these things until, in the most terrifying scene in the movie, he was not.

This movie shows you the mechanisms through which fascism becomes an appealing idea for a lonely child by putting the audience through a version of the same process. It’s so clever, so funny and so sad.

What do you do when your world is destroyed by absurdity and there is nothing left for you to return to?

You dance in the streets.

TV Series

Good Omens

Wildly hilarious comedy, fantastic costume design, multiple androgynous characters for which NO ONE bats an eye and honestly?? the best queer love story I’ve ever seen in television or film.

The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance

I am not sure if I have ever seen a production with so much love poured into it. The dozens of painstakingly crafted sets and characters, the sheer level of artistry on display - the next thing I saw was always more amazing than the thing I’d seen before it and the amazingness just kept coming with no end in sight throughout the entirety of the show.

And the story itself! The way it deepened and played with the lore of the original movie in the most perfect and unexpected ways! It felt like I was watching the most fantastic and labor intensive piece of fanfiction ever conceived, that was written by a person with a deep passion for and knowledge of the source material.

Speaking of fantastic throwbacks...

Dororo

I’ve said a lot about this one already. While it ultimately fell kind of flat, what it did get right was phenomenal. The motherfucking FIGHT SCENES! The love between bros! The fascinating reconception of Hyakkimaru’s powers and its emphasis on a disabled character actually being portrayed as disabled! The journey of good characters going down the path of evil with good intentions!

Mwah!

Primal eps 1-5

Genndy Tartakovsky’s next big project after the completion of Samurai Jack!

It is gory. Like, extremely gory. Do you know how much gore a thing has to have before I consider it ‘extremely gory?’ It’s a lot. Like...really a lot. There’s a thirty second (or possibly longer. time lost all meaning as I watched it) sequence in which the main character punches the intestines out of a horde of hominids in loving, exacting detail. It’s like Genndy’s letting out all the pent-up gore he was forced to keep in check during the years when he was working on Samurai Jack.

But it isn’t just gore. It’s a journey about the main character’s grief over the sudden, horrific, unexpected death of his entire family. A story which is also mirrored by that of the dinosaur he joins forces with. There were parts during it in which I literally felt my heart being torn in two over the travails of these two, as well as wildly funny and completely adorable parts.

The settings, creature design and fight choreography are insanely creative, as is the decision to do it with no dialogue whatsoever.

And that cliffhanger, DAMN!! They’d better get the next five episodes out soon!

Honorable Mention:

Rick and Morty S4 eps 1-5

This one doesn’t entirely make the list proper because the latter two episodes...were rather subpar. But I can’t entirely keep it off the list because the quality of the first three episodes was off the charts. A particular shoutout to ‘The Old Man and the Seat’ and ‘One Crew Over the Crewcoo’s Morty’ - the former, which somehow managed to use toilet humor, of all things, to reach a crushingly tragic conclusion and the latter, which has a twist better than that of some of my favorite horror movies.

Games

Shogun 2

I didn’t do a whole lot of gaming at all this year. But what I did do is have a fantastic time getting into the Total War franchise. Shogun 2 was my entry point and a FANTASTIC game. The ninja animations! The tiny, exacting animations of every single person running around on a sinking ship! The way Realm Divide changes the game into something much more dangerous and the way I learned to dance on the edge of it until I was good and ready!

Plays

Love’s Labours Lost

One of two Shakespeare plays I saw this year, the other being The Tempest - which was also excellent (especially the part where it legit started raining when Ariel summoned the storm in the first scene and then that showing had to be cancelled. The second time was the charm).

Love’s Labours Lost had some excellent comedy and the usual absurd web of misunderstandings you’d expect to find in your standard Shakespeare romcom. But the thing which pushed it over the edge for me was that...it had a sad ending. It goes against the definition of comedy and has a sad ending. Because it was so unexpected, it hit unexpectedly hard and made it that much more memorable.

#jojo rabbit #akira kurosawa #rick and morty #the dark crystal: age of resistance #good omens #primal #a thought #long post

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