#'it was coined on the internet' 'it was only coined a few (read: in the case of aromanticism almost 20) years ago' true. so what?

[ilovedthestars]

A thought I’ve been having: While it's important to recognize the long history of many current queer identities (and the even longer history of people who lived outside of the straight, cis, allo “norm”) I think it's also important to remember that a label or identity doesn't have to be old to be, for lack of a better word, real.

This post that i reblogged a little while ago about asexuality and its history in the LGBTQ+ rights movement and before is really good and really important. As i've thought about it more, though, it makes me wonder why we need to prove that our labels have "always existed." In the case of asexuality, that post is pushing back against exclusionists who say that asexuality was “made up on the internet” and is therefore invalid. The post proves that untrue, which is important, because it takes away a tool for exclusionists.

But aromanticism, a label & community with a lot of overlap & solidarity with asexuality, was not a label that existed during Stonewall and the subsequent movement. It was coined a couple decades ago, on internet forums. While the phrasing is dismissive, it would be technically accurate to say that it was “made up on the internet.” To be very clear, I’m not agreeing with the exclusionists here—I’m aromantic myself. What I’m asking is, why does being a relatively recently coined label make it any less real or valid for people to identify with?

I think this emphasis on historical precedent is what leads to some of the attempts to label historical figures with modern terminology. If we can say someone who lived 100 or 1000 years ago was gay, or nonbinary, or asexual, or whatever, then that grants the identity legitimacy. but that's not the terminology they would have used then, and we have no way of knowing how, or if, any historical person's experiences would fit into modern terminology.

There's an element of "the map is not the territory" here, you know? Like this really good post says, labels are social technologies. There's a tendency in the modern Western queer community to act like in the last few decades the "truth" about how genders and orientations work has become more widespread and accepted. But that leaves out all the cultures, both historical and modern, that use a model of gender and sexuality that doesn't map neatly to LGBTQ+ identities but is nonetheless far more nuanced than "there are two genders, man and woman, and everyone is allo and straight." Those systems aren’t any more or less “true” than the system of gay/bi/pan/etc and straight, cis and trans, aro/ace and allo.

I guess what I’m saying is, and please bear with me here, “gay” people have not always existed. “Nonbinary” people have not always existed. “Asexual” people have not always existed. But people who fell in love with and had sex with others of the same gender have always existed. People who would not have identified themselves as either men or women have always existed. People who didn’t prioritize sex (and/or romance) as important parts of their lives have always existed. In the grand scheme of human existence, all our labels are new, and that’s okay. In another hundred or thousand years we’ll have completely different ways of thinking about gender and sexuality, and that’ll be okay too. Our labels can still be meaningful to us and our experiences right now, and that makes them real and important no matter how new they are.

We have a history, and we should not let it be erased. But we don’t need a history for our experiences and ways of describing ourselves to be real, right now.

[lovelessrage]

It is officially Asexual Awareness Week, so it's time to bring up one of my favourite facts that not a lot of people seem to know about.

Did you know the first appearance of aplatonic was from an asexual person? "Aplatonic" was first coined on the AVEN forums by an alloromantic asexual man in 2012. He was using it to describe the experience of only loving his friends that he would later go on to date/develop romantic feelings for. While the term was independantly coined on Tumblr a few years later, and is often associated with aromanticism, our history is linked with asexual history, and our doors have always been open to aplatonics of all kinds.

The original thread is still viewable on the Internet Archive today.

[Image ID: A screenshot of the Internet Archive. At the top is the search bar with an AVEN url entered, with a screen capture for December 2nd, 2023. There are 72 captures total. The captured post below is titled "Aplatonic". Below, it reads: "By Mr. Shuttershy, April 6, 2012 in Asexual Relationships". /End ID]

Happy Asexuality Awareness Week! Remember aces of all kinds while you celebrate, including aplatonic, afamilial, loveless, and other atertiary aces. They are always going to be a part of our community, and it's important to remember, as always, no matter how different we are, we are just as equally connected some way or another.

[theoutcastrogue]

[From a 2014 article by John Darnielle of the Mountain Goats. He's talking about how a random spam email ended up inspiring a part of his book Wolf in White Van. Later, in 2020, the album Getting Into Knives came out, and I think it inspired its artwork too.]

"It took years for me to be able to just reflexively delete spam, or filter it so that I never see it at all. I blame the spammers for this; the quality of their work took a sharp nosedive at some point. But during whatever period of the internet’s growth you’d call the early 2000s, it seemed like you’d still get some winners: things that had been typed up by a person, sent out to a bunch of email addresses they’d bought or rented for 5 or 10 bucks from the only guy who was ever going to make any money in this particular exchange. Most of them went directly, if manually, into the trash; but once in a while, there’d be one that seemed to earn, at the very least, the minute it’d take me to read it.

The one I’m remembering here was subject-lined SUPPLY OF KNIVES. [...] The subject line opened on an all-caps email that boasted, in ornate, antiquated English appealing to the reader’s more refined sensibilities, about the high quality of the knives on offer at an external website. You shouldn’t click on links in spam email. I live my life on the razor’s edge! I clicked the link.

I want to tell you about these knives: They were beautiful. They were weird. They had elaborate designs in the handles, moons or stars of wolf heads, and special grips, and a variety of points. They were made from metals whose pedigrees were described lovingly, and had been struck — smithed? wrought? — via processes I knew absolutely nothing about, but that sounded fantastic, difficult, arcane. It’s the joy of specialized language: When you’re an outsider to it, it can’t help but sound cool.

Of course this is the whole idea of any operation like this. SUPPLY OF KNIVES could well have been, and probably was, a company in Ohio who’d stumbled across an old warehouse full of knives, and knew enough about sales to describe these things in the most exotic terms they could find. I’m pretty immune to pitches: Who likes to feel like he’s being pitched? But somebody involved with SUPPLY OF KNIVES had had just enough authorial flair — that, or true faith — to caption each knife’s mysterious, blurry accompanying JPEG with a description whose constant recourse to specialized vocabularies seemed to say, “You’re not even reading this unless you already know about this sort of thing. Let us therefore speak like the fellow travelers we are.”

It was like a trade catalog for roadside bandits in need of knives.

I can’t speak for everybody, but I know that when I was a child the life of the roadside bandit seemed like a pretty romantic way to go. I looked at all these knives and read the descriptions and was just generally delighted about the whole thing, so I saved the email in a “memorable spam” folder I used to keep that had maybe two other emails in it. A few years later, Apple came out with this robotic-arm-screen iMac you never see any more, and we were long overdue for a new computer so we got that; and then, after a while, I got myself a laptop, because I was traveling all the time, and eventually both the old iMacs ended up in the basement, and they were both asleep but alive until fairly recently, as far as I knew.

But when I went to check for the email, it was gone. The old blue iMac is dead, bricked, lifeless. Searches on the term “supply of knives” on this laptop and on good old robot-arm-screen find nothing. The backup CD for the blue iMac drive is probably in a drawer around here somewhere, but that’s like saying, “The coin I had in my swim trunks’ pocket is probably somewhere in the ocean.” There is no SUPPLY OF KNIVES. There’s only the memory."

[source]

And this is the wonderful cover art of Getting Into Knives. Back cover and promo material below. Note that "Knives International" and "Knives Wordwide" are not real companies, they appear to be a callback to that elusive spam email.

[mygayshortstories]

Back before the days of the internet, when I was in my mid 20s, this was my first experience at “cottaging” in a public toilet, when I happened across Steve, a gorgeous 18 year-old, just ravenous for sex. But this turned into more than just a 'quick one'.....

Steve the Pipe-Fitter 

I had a day off from work and had gone out to Coventry to photograph the Cathedral, only to be met with a ‘no photography’ sign at the door, so I’d spent the rest of the morning taking candid photos of nice young men out in the sun instead. A bit frustrated, I got back to town about 2 o’clock.

Just under the pedestrian ramp leading out of the railway station were the public toilets.  I had heard about ‘cottaging’ and knew that this lavatory, being busy and anonymous, was such a place, so whether or not my subconscious was drawing me there today I don’t know but when I actually went down there, it was to pay a genuine call, so I duly paid and went into a cubicle.

The partitions between the cubicles didn’t quite reach the ground, so there was a gap underneath of about 6 inches. After a while, my curiosity got the better of me. Although I had never done it before, I knelt down on the floor and looked underneath. To my naïve surprise, a few cubicles away, a face was looking back in my direction. My reaction was instantaneous; I sat up quickly. However, my reaction had been so swift that I hadn’t had time to see who it was or what he looked like. For some reason though, I couldn’t pluck up enough courage to look again. I just sat there.

A short while later, I saw a young pair of shoes, at the end of jean-clad legs, enter the cubicle next door. I say ‘young’ because the shoes were new and smart, with a brass toe-strip, fashionable at the time. Clearly it was someone fairly young; probably no older than me, at any rate. He seemed to sit down but then do nothing else. I was curious and couldn’t resist the temptation, so I wrote on a piece of toilet paper, “How old?” and slipped it under the partition. The note was quickly taken up and was shortly followed by the sound of a match being struck. At first, I thought he was burning the note in disgust but then I realized that he was using the match to write with.

The note came back; “18” it read. I drew a rather deep breath. Now what?

I returned the note; “I’m 26 – can I wank you off?”  I remember thinking at the time that punctuation was probably superfluous under the circumstances and that a fairly basic vocabulary was more apt.

Another match was struck on the other side and the note came back, “Lend me your pen”. I realised that he must have seen my stainless-steel biro when I had slipped the message under the partition and I wasn’t yet ready to risk losing one of my 21st Birthday presents. As I had nothing else to write with, I returned the note saying, “No – you’ll nick it” and indicated that he should continue using a match.

There was now a bit of a delay and I figured I must have blown my chances. At best, he didn’t have any more matches. “And all for the sake of losing a stainless-steel biro!” I thought to myself as I sat there.

However, to my surprise, eventually another note came back giving his approval to my original request, provided that I agreed to “suck him off”.  Needless to say, I immediately indicated agreement and told him, “Unlock when ready”.  I flushed the toilet and opened the door.

As I emerged from the cubicle, I then thought, “What do I do if he doesn’t unlock the door and just leaves me standing there like an idiot trying to get in?” It was pretty busy outside, with people coming and going, people washing their hands or waiting for a cubicle and some even hanging around at the urinals. They may or may not have known what was going on but I knew I had to risk it and be quick about it. As I turned, I saw his lock click to ‘vacant’ and I pretended to put in a coin and entered the cubicle.

On reflection, my hasty action deserved to lead me into serious trouble but my limited experience knew no better. I don’t know who I really expected to find inside but for a start he hadn’t lied about his age. He was a fraction taller than me, lightly built with short dark hair and wearing blue denim jeans and a black leather bomber-jacket over a plain white ‘T’ shirt. But what struck me so overwhelmingly was his incredibly beautiful face. He had blue-grey eyes and soft boyish features, so clean-shaven that he looked almost as if he had never shaved and never needed to. I could hardly believe my eyes how gorgeous he was.

He also must have been reasonably pleased with me because, instead of just offering me his cock to suck, we both feverishly began undressing each other. We didn’t get far though, before we were both embracing, hugging each other tightly. This first embrace said so much without words and it seemed to last for ages; he pressed his whole body to me, burying his face against my neck, hugging me and kissing my neck. He smelt nice too; he was clearly wearing after-shave or cologne of some kind. Whatever it was, it was doing its job perfectly and I was almost overwhelmed. At best, on entering the cubicle, I had expected - I had hoped – for an ‘ordinary’ young man (like me) who wanted quick, impersonal sex but nothing had prepared me for this situation. He wanted – he deserved – far more than just a quick wank, that much was certain. Looking into those glistening blue-grey eyes, set beneath luxuriant dark eyebrows, I just cradled his face in my hands and gently kissed him on the lips.

At this point, I must have realised the danger we were both in; two men in a public toilet, half undressed and one of us under 21. I felt I had to get him out of there to somewhere safer – and a little more romantic. I whispered into his ear,

“You’re so gorgeous; what on earth are you doing here?”

He merely hugged me all the more tightly and then he kissed me for the first time; not a peck or anything half-hearted but a full-blown, sloppy kiss. Oh heavens!  His lips tasted simply delicious! Memories came flooding back of an 18 year-old boy-friend I had a few years back, as I began to melt against him. Again, I whispered to him,

“I can’t bear the thought of you being caught here. Can I take you back to my place? It’s not too far and it’ll be safer there.”

Much to my surprise, he readily agreed, just as we noticed someone spying on us from under the partition with the next cubicle. It was that face again – the one I had seen looking back at me under the partitions - only this time, he was right next door and had already noticed two pairs of feet where there should be only one.

My newly discovered treasure left the cubicle first, flushing the toilet for effect, and I followed after a moment or two. When I emerged at the top of the steps, I thought that I had lost him and that he had run off, but then I caught a glimpse of him disappearing into a telephone kiosk. I still wasn’t sure whether he was trying to avoid me but I briskly walked up to the kiosk and when he saw me, he came out. As we walked away together, he seemed more on edge than I had expected and he was nervously looking around at the people about us.

As we walked on, I managed to ascertain that his name was Steve and that he was, of all things, a pipe-fitter. To this day, I don't know if he was having me on and it was some kind of jok on his part but without warning, he suddenly hustled me in front of a queue and onto a bus. Rather taken by surprise, I fumbled for the fare he had paid and followed him upstairs to where he was sitting, looking intently out of the window. He then told me that we had been followed from the toilet and he pointed to a middle-aged, rather scruffy looking man in the crowd who I remember seeing earlier, loitering in the public toilet. It was ‘The Face’ from under the partitions again!

We stayed on the bus as it went around the City Centre; meanwhile, he sat there, pressing his leg firmly against mine. Even through my jeans, I could feel the warmth of his leg and this tenuous connection of our bodies passed an electric sexuality between us that was getting me highly aroused! The blood was pumping through my cock, tightly crushed inside my briefs, and there was an uncomfortable dampness developing in my groin as pre-cum oozed into my underwear as we sat there, our jean-clad thighs pressed warmly together.

By the time we reached the Town Hall, he seemed to be less nervous. We had lost our follower, so we changed buses and headed to my place. On the way, I tried to make ‘small talk’ and he responded chattily. He had a gorgeous Liverpool accent but said he lived locally. I learned that he had left his parents in Liverpool to find work and that he shared a flat not far from where I now lived, so he didn’t feel that he was heading into totally strange parts. The short walk from the bus seemed to take ages; my heart was beating fast and it was thumping into my throat. I was nervous that we might meet someone I knew; what would I say? But as it happened, we didn’t pass anyone.

He seemed impressed when I showed him into my flat and immediately asked how much it cost. Typical of a Liverpool ‘Lad’, I thought; winningly engaging but always straight to the point. I took his leather bomber-jacket, gave him a Coke and sat down on the couch, patting the seat next to me, indicating for him to sit beside me, which he did. As I put my arm around him, he responded straight away by doing the same and by snuggling up to me affectionately. I stroked his face and again told him how beautiful he was.

“Thank you,” he said with a coy grin. He seemed genuinely flattered.

As I moved to kiss him, he turned toward me and our lips met for the second time in a kiss of such tenderness, quite unlike anything you could imagine from an 18 year-old. His lips were full and his mouth tasted slightly of mint, as our passions roused and our tongues entwined. I began to realise that he may have been 18 but he was no novice. He certainly knew how to kiss, that’s for sure!

Eagerly, he following me into the bedroom, where I drew the curtains and closed the door. In the semi-darkness, we embraced again but this time, unlike in the toilet cubicle, we were safe and secure from prying eyes. Our whole bodies now pressing together, we kissed and hugged. He began to unbutton my shirt as I removed his t-shirt, revealing soft tanned arms and a strong chest delicately peppered with tiny hairs. Again we hugged, but this time our skins touched for the first time and passed bodily warmth between us. Feverishly, I unzipped his flies and unbuckled his belt but by now, we were both so desperate to get into bed that we both just dropped our jeans and almost leapt into bed, still wearing our underpants.

Under the covers, we fell against each other, skin against skin, and I felt the warm hardness of his organ against mine through our underwear.  Soon, however, the underwear was gone and we were fully naked, entwined, hugging and kissing in a heat of frantic passion. I could feel his organ, large and full, between our stomachs as I lay on top of him and he began thrusting upwards to me.

Looking back from today’s world of the internet and ‘porn on tap’, it’s difficult to explain but all this excitement simply proved too much for me and his eagerness tipped me over the edge; all my pent-up sexual frustrations rose within me and I came uncontrollably against his stomach and erect cock, hugging and pressing myself to him. As I clung to him, my orgasm enveloped my whole body, as my semen gushed uncontrollably in pulses between us.

I was mortified. While I did not count myself as promiscuous, I had ‘been around the block a few times’, so this sort of thing was not supposed to happen to me and I was embarrassed. I thought I had blown my chances and it was all over. Light-heartedly, I apologized and quickly mopped up the mess, as I didn’t want to disappoint him. But there was no fear of that; he rolled me onto my back and knelt astride me, holding his throbbing penis in my face, foreskin already drawn back in anticipation. Evidently, he hadn’t forgotten our bargain back in the public toilet!

I too had no intention of breaking our ‘contract’, so I eagerly took his throbbing tool in my mouth and began sucking and playing with it. He loved it. We rolled about in a number of positions, with me sucking him and tickling and licking his testicles; and him thoroughly reveling in it. But I had to keep resting my jaw; it was beginning to ache and juices were everywhere; he was a big lad for one so slightly built.

 “I’m a good stayer,” he joked, and he certainly was. I wasn’t about to give up either; he was 18, beautiful - and all mine. 

But eventually, I felt the tell-tale signs; now on his back again with me crouched between his baby-soft thighs, his organ in my mouth and gripped in my hand, his breathing suddenly changed and he began gasping and shuddering. Don’t you simply love that moment when a young man loses all self-control just before he cums? With a deep, hard gasp, he exploded into my mouth 3 or 4 times, great gushes of salty cum coursing through his organ and filling my mouth.

Some guys (girls too, I suppose) don’t like the taste of a guy’s cum, so they either spit it out or let it dribble back out of their mouth. For me though, the whole experience is a very personal one and while I don’t much like the taste, I feel that swallowing it increases that connection; it creates an even deeper bond between the ‘giver’ and the ‘receiver’. Besides which, having a man’s cum permanently inside me is very satisfying; at least it is for me, at any rate!  Consequently, as his throbbing cock subsided, I swallowed all of his slimy, slithery juices. His body then relaxing and exhausted, he breathed heavily.

“Jeez, I needed that!” he said, as we collapsed into each other’s arms, once again hugging and kissing.

At this point, I thought he would want to leave, his passion satisfied; but he hadn’t had enough, it seemed. We continued laying together, caressing and stroking, hugging and kissing, rolling about in loving passion the likes of which I had not felt in a long while. Occasionally, we would rest and just lay still in each other’s arms, softly talking, only to return to the hugging and kissing with renewed vitality. I complimented him on how passionate a lover he was. He liked that.

I said, “You’re not shy either, are you”, and he looked at me, slightly surprised, and replied, “No”, as if it had never occurred to him.

As we still lay entwined, without any warning he then said,

“Well, can I stick it up you then?”

Although the abruptness of his request came as something of a surprise, it was by no means out of character. He was direct and to the point. But I saw this as an opportunity, so in an attempt to persuade him to meet me again, I said I thought maybe we should keep that for another time. He didn’t seem to mind, except that now we began exploring each other’s bottoms.

As I played my finger around his anus, I realised that this was one of his weak spots, as it was mine in fact. He began groaning and he clasped my hand, pressing my finger into him. With the aid of a little lube, I began to finger-fuck him, massaging his prostate while he writhed about, groaning in ecstasy. For a few moments, I had his entire body sensations under my control (again) and I sensed he was going to let go again. I felt tremendous. But he had other ideas still in his mind because he gently pushed me away, grabbing the lube and following my example. Now he was the one who had me under his control and my mind soon changed regarding his request to screw me! He rolled me over and took charge.

I asked him to take it gently – he was only young and I wasn’t sure how desperate he might be. But I need have had no fears. As I lay on my front over a pillow, face to one side and one knee raised, he lubricated his now throbbing organ and my aching anus. He entered me just a little at a time, pausing when I asked, allowing me to relax. He wasn’t particularly well-endowed, as if that mattered, but he was fairly narrow too, so I was able to accommodate him with very little discomfort. However, his cock was quite long and it was terrific to feel his slender organ sliding smoothly in and out, upwards and inwards, rhythmically inside me, as he lay against my back with his arms firmly clasped around me. It was sheer bliss.

Eventually, he began thrusting in earnest, almost withdrawing in between his full, hard thrusts into me. In fact, he slipped out twice and got a bit flustered at nearly losing it – he was obviously getting near to his climax. I calmed him as he entered again easily, softly encouraging him to continue, and he began thrusting again, now desperately. As I felt his rhythm change, he thrust once or twice really hard into me as far as he could go and, reaching his climax, he grasped both my hands on the pillow and buried his face against my neck. I could feel him holding his breath, as he held absolutely still for a second or two; and then I felt his organ pulsing high inside me – 2, 3, 4, 5 times he came into me, my insides warmed by the love fluid flowing into me. Then he let out a gasp and I felt him relax his frantic grip of me, as he just lay there on top of me, his tool still slowly throbbing the last of his orgasm inside me.

Exhausted, his tool slipped out of me as he still lay against my back, sighing and breathing heavily. I sighed too – frankly, I had never had it so good!  As we rolled over into each other’s arms once again, I told him so and he was justly flattered. We must have rolled about kissing and embracing for quite some time until he finally asked if I had cum when he screwed me. I told him I hadn’t, although I had been pretty close, and to my utter amazement, he said,

“Right, well it’s your turn then – I’ll do you a blow job” and with the words, “Let me at it!” he climbed over in-between my legs and began passionately sucking my still hard penis and tickling my testicles with his fingers.

Frankly, I was speechless; this 18 year-old fantasy had just had two quite tremendous orgasms in the space and he was still as excited and, what’s more, he was interested in me. I wasn’t expecting any more than I had already experienced but I was ready for anything he was prepared to offer and I was enjoying every precious moment.

He didn’t move up and down on me much; instead, he teased me with his mouth and tongue, second by second, so slowly that as I felt myself drawing towards a climax, it was so gently and slowly done that the tension was almost agonizing in its pleasure. I began shaking what seemed like ages before I came but then I could feel the fluid rising in me, flowing on its inexorable path to the outside world. I clutched at his head, gasping for breath, and came like a small fountain into his mouth, pumping away while he eagerly swallowed every drop I gave him until I was truly spent.

I was still gasping for breath when he collapsed against me again, where he lay for another ten minutes or so until it was time for him to return to his own flat. We had been in bed together for nearly three hours and finally he was leaving. We dressed and tidied up and I asked if I could see him again. To this day, his reply still baffles me.

“What do you think?” he said.

I’ve often wondered at the double meaning in his response but at the time, I took it at face value, gave him my phone number and attempted to express sincere feeling to him as I showed him out to the road and directed him to his bus home.

A beautiful cheery face smiled back at me as I waved to him disappearing down the road. As I returned to my flat and closed the door, I was alone again and felt suddenly empty and yet at the same time rejuvenated. For me, nothing short of a fantasy had come true and it felt all the better for knowing that he had had a bloody good time too! Our afternoon had been filled with such intense passion that I thought, “Surely this was more than just another ‘one night stand’ encounter?”  But he never contacted me and I never saw him again. All I have is the memory; the image etched in my mind of that beautiful young man’s face, the warmth of his soft skin against mine and that incredible Thursday afternoon.

If you liked that story, please let me know - even post a comment under “ask me a question”. Or perhaps you’d just like to read another story?

Here’s an index of my other sordid tales, many of them taken from true-life sexual adventures of my own: Erotic Gay Stories Index

[existslikepristin]

Unexpectedly busy week, that was. Except today. Today I got home and ate ice cream

Only two options in the poll this time! Is there a secret reason?! Yes, it's because I didn't have any more ideas The poll is only going to be available for 24 hours, because I should be able to get the next part up tomorrow!

Tags: NSFW, S.M.U.T., genie, microtransactions???

(Story Index)

Anime Girls

"I wish for a harem of anime girls!" you blurt out before you can think.

Joy appears mildly shocked for a moment, but then she gives you a wry smirk. "Look at you, making a wish like that. You perverted weeb."

You frown and put up a finger of protest, but Joy quickly continues, "I know. I know. You're not the first of your kind I've come across, master. Being a weeb is an honored profession nowadays, and you're all special because of your unique waifu and/or husbando selection(s). I know the drill."

The air around you seems to contract and expand simultaneously, and everything in your line of sight briefly tints green. Except, that is, for Joy herself. Even as space bends in front of your very eyes, causing no small amount of queasiness to knot about in the pit of your stomach, Joy remains on the table, sitting up with the same smooth grace she has continuously displayed up to this point and only looking as green as usual, which isn’t all that green, really.

And then it's over. The air feels normal again, and your standard color vision has returned.

"Was that the wish?" you ask.

"Sure was!"

You look around. Nothing has changed. You see no anime girls. Not even your waifu (though, considering Joy told you she can't read your mind, you're not sure how she would have known to pick her). "So, where's the harem?"

"I figured you wouldn't be able to list each and every anime girl you've ever wanted to fuck."

Joy pauses. After a few seconds you say, "That's not a useful explanation."

"Oh. Right. Check your phone."

"My phone?" you inquire, as you reach down to take your phone from the pocket of your discarded shorts.

"Yup! I've noticed that most weebs are very heavily invested in their own tropes, which I appreciate, as you can imagine. And one of the more common tropes in harem anime I've seen is that the protagonist controls some aspect of the world around them with a supernaturally-powered smartphone."

You tap your phone out of sleep mode. "So, I have a phone… harem?"

"No, master. You have a magic app that summons anime girls into your presence, all of which are suspiciously and sexually attracted and devoted to you, of course. This will make your harem as weebly wobbly as you can possibly get!"

You exit your phone's internet browser, where, obviously, you had been reading existslikePristin fanfics, and go to your home screen. A new app does a little inflation animation to let you know of its location. The icon is a silhouette of a lithe woman on a green, circular background, and is not labeled. You tap to open it. There is no waiting on load time. You're immediately taken to a very cluttered generic fantasy town isometric view, with bubbles of text all over the place. You think the text might be Sumerian.

"It's a mobile gacha game!" Joy looks and sounds far too proud of herself. "And with my special djinnfluencer promo code, you get one thousand free shards! And that's not all! You get ten free spins, five billion gold coins, and double daily rewards for the first week!”

Options:

Okay, that was exceptionally dumb. Ask if there’s a way to undo a wish.

Whatever. A harem’s a harem. Figure out this app and summon an anime girl.

[ao3wasntenough]

Chatter here. Sam gives off cat vibes, I swear he be as unhinged as possible just to cause a problem to prove he still him. Perhaps he even snoozes in odd positions around the base making bots have to tred carefully.

He DOES! And a lot of the “weird” things the bots claim he does is just minor human things he doesn’t even control.

Like he’ll calmly be sitting reading on some bots shoulder before he violently twitches out of nowhere and spooks them bot

Bots who are more paranoid then others often get thrown off or start thinking superstitious things about Sam because he’ll be walking past a doorway/a crate/a bot/ some humans, stop dead (often causing whatever bot to trip over him) and just ominously stare, only his audials (though some report his visior blinking or looking like it’s experiencing interference) slightly moving before he bolts off. Did he see something dangerous? Did he receive an emergency ping?

He’ll “stutter” and repeat words or even just have blouts of his speech just cutting out and when prompted to seek medical attention he gets super defensive (the human urge to strangle your friend when they point out you stuttered)

He’s also always trying out his new capacity for agility and flexibility and often asks taller bots to lift him up by the servos for a “big stretch” as coined by internet studies. Where its alarmingly discovered Sam’s internal structure has a lot of bend and flex to it and he self mimics the sound of human bone air pockets poping (he doesn’t know he makes the noise but red alert has certainly never heard a bot make those noises)

Bumblebee often has to race around the base to find the tallest mech because he and a few others dared Sam to climb somewhere and now curfew is coming up and they can’t tell if he’s ignoring them or fell asleep where they cant get to him

(He gets dared to do a lot of dumb shit)

Autobots who recharge outside are prone to finding they’ve been joined by Sam sleeping on their hoods or in their trays or roof. Joining them in the sun. And bots were informed of the human rule “if a creature falls asleep on you, you cannot move” especially one as fickled and touch resistant as Sam. There’s an on going tally chart keeping score on who Sam’s fallen asleep on. Optimus has a strong lead with him often finding his trailer a good off the ground place.

Ultra Magnus felt so pressured to leave Sam asleep on his hauler he took him with him across to another base

[wolfmage553]

Firstly, Thank you @mentallyunawareofpapaya for the Tumblr post that inspired this post.

Secondly, if Axol does get revived, I think it'll go down this way.

Axol doesn't want to make everyone go into shock so he decides to sneak about the new castle and mentally decide who he wants to reunite with first.

Bob is actually the first person that finds out Axol is back thanks to Axol helping him get to bed while Bob was drunk. The thing is: Bob has been drunk so many times that his memory isn't affected by being drunk anymore so he remembers Axol helping him to bed.

Axol is scared that his plan is wrecked but nobody believes Bob when he excitedly tells them that Axol is alive again because, as SMG4 put it, "If Axol was back, Melony would be the first to know. She is his girlfriend after all."

Mario is actually the second to find out Axol is back, thanks to an incident that involved a spaghetti strainer and roller-skates.

Meggy and Melony are the only ones who believes Mario when he excitedly tells the group that Axol is back.

Axol decides, with a coin flip, to officially reunite with Meggy first. He sends an anonymous letter in the Inkling language to Meggy challenging her to a one on one terf war. Once Meggy gete there, Axol appears wearing a Annaki Polpo-Pic Tank instead of his normal blue shirt and wielding a Inkbrush. After a pretty intense one on one terf war, the two best friends fall to the ground exhausted but laughing.

Meggy helps Axol plan his reunion with Melony. Meggy gives Melony a picture showing a patch of land by a lake that reads on the back "Come here for a surprise.". Melony reaches the place, wielding her sword just in case it was a trap, only to see Axol sitting on a picnic blanket with a picnic basket beside him. Melony drops her sword and knocks over the picnic basket glomping Axol in a loving embrace.

After a lot of happy tears and kisses, the two have a wonderful picnic date by the lake.

Boopkins is kind of salty that he was among the last to find out his senpai is back but he understands why Axol went the sneaky route and that Mario and Bob finding out before he did was a total accident on Axol's part.

Since most of his friends and his girlfriend know he's back, he stops sneaking around. He joins the group activities and waits for the inevitable shoe to drop of SMG4 finding out he's back.

The thing is: Everyone forgets how oblivious SMG4 can be. He's so focused on making videos that he doesn't even register that Axol is supposed to be dead. Plus, continuity has been messed with so many times that when it finally registers that this Axol is real and not a sleep/guilt induced hallucination, he chalks it up to Axol's death being retconned.

The entire SMG4 crew finds SMG4's obviousness bloody hilarious while Axol starts losing respect for SMG4 the more time passes with SMG4 not registering that Axol got revived.

It becomes a game of "how long until SMG4 remembers that Axol's death is still canon?" to the SMG4 crew with each one of them trying to jog SMG4's memory.

Finally, after a entire month or two, halfway through a group dinner SMG4's eyes go wide as he shouts "Holy sh*t! Axol died and came back!"

Cue the most uproarious laughter from a few of the SMG4 crew while everyone else simultaneously asks "What took you so long?"

Later that day, while babysitting Karen's children, Karen reveals that she saw Axol and Melony sneak into the castle after their picnic date.

Cue Karen almost dropping her cup of coffee in shock when SMG4 reveals that Axol died (canonically) two years ago.

By the way, SMG3 knew from the start of Axol's return due to their shared connection to The Internet Graveyard.

[tamas-and-the-clowns-sol-left]

Hello, you've made it. You reached the Rubyverse.

What is the Rubyverse, you may ask??

the Rubyverse is an alternate universe for Aiden Thomas' The Sunbearer Duology that I, Tamas, have been creating since August 6th, 2024.

This is going to be more detailed after my small info bit, boundaries, and trigger warnings.

What is the point of this project??

This is my place to add as I wish and have content to my desires. From character pages, headcannons (that are subsequently cannon for this universe), or being my indecisive self, I am using this to express my creative freedom in hopes of finding some audience who cares enough about it

What are the boundaries??

My boundaries aren't designed to be difficult, but if you find them in such way than we are not for eachother's interaction.

I will not tolerate anything NSFW about myself, my characters, my ideas, or my posts in all. I am an asexual guy and my comfortability isn't with that stuff about me or my creations. Every creation of mine has some of me in them.

Feel free to ask questions, but think before you speak. I'll respond as much as I can and when I can, but I am a human, I'm going to be treated as such. Creating and sharing my creations doesn't lessen or add to my humanity and that's something I see many people struggle with.

No discrimination against me or my characters. this includes use of: Slurs, homophobic/transphobic comments, racism, ableism. If you are grown up enough to be on the Internet you should be grown up enough to not discriminate and keep your inside thoughts inside.

Use tone tags for sarcasm and jokes at minimum. I struggle with tone often and take everything at face value especially the less there is for me to analyze. I speak at face value, I don't use jokes or sarcasm without clarification that it is such so others can know. /j means joke and /sar means sarcasm.

What can you expect from this series??

You can expect characters that are more than just beauty standards and stereotypes. I may fall into some tropes or pairing types(such as loser boyfriend x absolutely stunning girlfriend) but my characters all have some sort of difference. They're not all perfect beings.

You can expect many, many spoilers for both The Sunbearer Trials and Celestial Monsters, aka the whole Sunbearer Duology.

You can expect changes to the trials and to the world building. Fear not, I haven't wrecked too much chaos upon this world's setup.

You can expect even more queer and trans characters, as well as some more disabled characters!! Not only do they have a soft spot in my heart, and I find representation largely important, I myself am a disabled queer trans person and love having characters like me.

Be prepared for some art style inconsistency and some writing that will *hopefully* get better over time. I'm not the most beginner of all beginners but I'm definitely not what I'd call a very seasoned artist and writer. (I also use a few different mediums for art, I stick to pencil to paper, watercolor, and digital art more often than not but I still like trying new things and having fun.)

Be prepared to read tags as this gets posted onto Ao3(And ONLY will I post on Ao3) and be prepared to read the trigger/content warnings for any thing I post here, especially writing.

Many things are based off of my own experience!! They may not be your experience, they may never be your experience, quite a few I truly hope aren't amongst anything anyone must experience. However on the flip side of the token coin I have put forth research to make anything and everything that is not written with my own experience is going to be as authentic as I can make it.

What are some trigger and content warnings I can give right off the bat??

For the sake of separation, each one is a bullet list instead of a paragraph, and I added everything planned that is something I think could risk triggering anyone.

Spoilers for all of The Sunbearer Duology!!

Major character death

"Human"(semidiós) sacrifice

Injuries

A character with hypermobility that experiences real struggles (aka not dumbed down to "oh I'm super flexible!!")

depersonalization/dissociation

self put pressure

Symbolization of needing accommodations for a disability and how society will reject or even mock thoes needs and overall will refuse to accommodate without harassment

Forced Assimilation (forcing a culture to rid their culture in order to fit into the other culture)

bullying/discrimination

abuse(parental)(physical and possible mental/emotional)

war and past war of high significance

manipulation/deception

this gets religious seeming as all main characters are dióses and semidióses (gods and demigods) however it is not a place to spread religious beliefs, no matter how good or ill intentioned

unsafe binding

Past self harm/self harm scars/non graphic current self harm

Struggles with eating (Arfid sensory type in specific)

I MUST EMPHASIZE. IF ANY OF THESE MAY BE TRIGGERING FOR YOU, KNOW YOURSELF. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED BY ME NOW, YOU WILL BE WARNED EVERY TIME ANY TRIGGER WARNING IS APPLICABLE. If you choose to skip triggering chapters or sections that's up to you, if you're looking at this and going "oh this may be not for me" feel free to keep scrolling because your health is more important than one more reader will ever be to me.

Welcome to the Rubyverse

In the world there are three godly races, The Golds, the Jades, and the Obsidians.

The Obsidians and their monsters are trapped in the stars, Jade and Golds now are the only Dióses in Rino De Sol. Right??

What if I told you there's one more set of Dióses??

Ruby red blood, the "weakest" of Sol and Tierra's godly children.

Follow eight dióses and their semidios children through their rediscovery, their "grand reveal" to all of humankind.

[cursed-man-prayers]

Ever since Kit Connor was forced to out himself due to accusations of queer-baiting, hetlors love to bring it up as a take-down against gaylors. They'll come into TikTok comments and Tumblr asks and be like, "what about that kid from Heartbreakers?" (they do not seem to care enough about Kit to learn his name or the show he is known for). They've hear, from a distance, that an 18-year-old was outed because of Twitter discourse and assume that this is the same thing that gaylors are doing to Taylor Swift.

But it's not. It's not the same thing. At all.

If the people bringing up Kit Connor took the time to understand the context of what happened and why, it would be glaringly obvious that these things are not at all the same. They're virtually opposites.

Kit was accused of queer-baiting, and while definitions of words change (I know about linguistics), queer-baiting was coined as a word to describe pieces of media whose creators purposefully hint at queer relationships in order to retain their queer fanbases (think Supernatrual/Destiel, Teen Wolf/Sterek, etc.). People (mainly youths on Twitter) accused Kit of queer-baiting because he played a bisexual character in a TV show and was then seen with a female friend. These absurd claims were the result of fundamentally misunderstanding queer experiences and identities outside of the internet. Most of these accusers were likely too young to have witnessed clear examples of queer-baiting or understand why it's harmful and why queer people call it out. Kit wasn't queer-baiting. He was an actor who hadn't labeled his sexuality (something he discussed in interviews). He was 18, in his first major role, getting a slew of unanticipated media attention, and his privacy was violated. He was forced to out himself because people refused to listen to him, refused to consider that choosing to not label their sexuality (especially a young person!) is a thing that queer people do sometimes (frequently).

So how does this relate to Taylor Swift? (Spoiler alert: it doesn't.)

Taylor Swift has been releasing music since she was 16. She is currently 33 years old, more than twice the age she was when she started. She has been massively famous for the majority of her career. Taylor is rich. Taylor is powerful. Yes, she's a human being, but we (the general public) typically only see what Taylor chooses to show us (there are few exceptions to this, though they definitely do exist). Taylor encourages analysis of her music, public appearances, and promotional material. She has a highly skilled PR team (shoutout Tree Paine).

Kit Connor was outed because people cling to the belief that straight is the default. If someone doesn't explicitly come out in a way that is fully comprehensible to non-queer people, they are assumed straight. This is a belief rooted in homophobia. "Speculating on someone's sexuality" isn't gross. It's been a necessary part of queer life since the inception of homophobia.

Queer flagging isn't new. There are documented codes and symbols and phrases that have been used for decades to identify yourself as queer without making it obvious to straight people and homophobes. Friends of Dorothy, hairpin dropping, a variety of flowers (violets, carnations, lavender).

Queer artists have been encoding their queerness into their work. Emily Dickinson likely coined the term bearding by using bearded pronouns—using masculine pronouns for herself or her female lover in poetry. She wrote "from the male perspective." Reading her poems about Sue Gilbert Dickinson, it's glaringly obviously gay—romantic, sexual, queer. And yet, to this day, her queerness is erased from the narrative. It even happens to Sappho. And all these years later, the presumption of heterosexuality dominates analysis of art and music.

The "hetero until proven homo" philosophy has lead to queer erasure for centuries. Taylor Swift has consistently used known queer codes since the 1989 album (see: New Romantic, Wonderland, the I Know Places tour performance, How You Get The Girl). When these songs, etc. have been pointed out as being literally queer-coded, Taylor hasn't backed down. She's stepped it up. She wrote "you could hear a hairpin drop" in Right Where You Left Me, queer people pointed out that "hairpin drop" has implications involving important queer history, and then she did it again in the Great War ("your finger on my hairpin trigger"). She intentionally subverted a common phrase, and it wasn't accidental. Queer people claimed Dress as a sapphic song, and Taylor used excessive bisexual lighting in her performance and then dedicated that performance to Loie Fuller, a queer artist. She wore a blue, purple, and pink wig in the You Need To Calm Down music video, on a production set drowning in LGBTQ folks perfectly qualified to tell her those were the colors of the bi pride flag.

There are countless examples of Taylor Swift using historical queer symbols and pride flag colors. These are symbols she actively chooses to use. She isn't stupid.

You know what Taylor Swift hasn't done? She has never said she is straight. At most, she has implied it. She hasn't said people saying she's gay makes her uncomfortable. She hasn't stopped using queer symbols or themes.

Before I really became a gaylor, I spent a lot of time wondering if it was weird or invasive or gross. But is it weird to read her lyrics? Is it invasive to look at publicly available photos of her? Is it gross to think that Taylor Swift isn't straight?

No. Obviously.

We're not trying to "force her out of the closet." We barely think she's in a closet. She is so loud to the people who are listening, who understand what she's saying, to other sapphics.

I'll end with this: When Taylor Swift and Karlie Kloss were photographed at the 1975 concert, I refused to believe they were kissing. The only reason I didn't believe it is because I was a homophobic 15-year-old. I clung to her being straight because of my internalized homophobia, because I needed the one non-Christian artist I listened to to be morally pure. And that's what this is about. Homophobia, internalized or otherwise.

tl;dr: Taylor Swift is speaking loudly about her queerness to the people that are listening. She has made queer references and doubled-down on them when people pointed them out or claimed it must've been accidental. Assuming people are straight until explicitly stated otherwise is rooted in homophobia. She is a fully grown adult who controls the narrative of how people see her. What if I told you none of it was accidental?

[transmutationisms]

would luv to hear more abt body fascism on the internet

on the entire internet?!! truly this is endemic to like, all social spaces i have ever been in including online lol. brian pronger popularised (maybe coined entirely?) this term in his book 'body fascism' to refer to the valorisation of the muscular and physically fit body in the west in the second half of the 20th century, and what he argued was an increasing tendency to seek moral salvation in the technological management of the body. i actually dislike a few major things about this book: i think his argument is insufficiently historicised and misleadingly periodised; specifically, he's wrong about what 'postmodern' means and signifies, and he's wrong to overlook the many and varied historical examples of cultural valorisation of fit / muscular bodies; he's largely unwilling to connect his commentary on the 'fit' body to ideals of the thin body; his proffered answer to a perceived over-reliance on bodily technologies is a kind of hand-wavey theory about 'the body's energy'; this entire topic begs to be analysed with more attention to race, class, and disability. but like, i don't disagree with everything he says about fitness and the technological management of the body lol.

anyway you definitely see these attitudes all over the internet lmao. for me the only real 'fitness' spaces i go on anymore are a few running groups so that's where i most often see this but it's really fucking everywhere. it's in the assumption that a fit body (fit to do what?) is better, that it signifies self-control, that it will ensure health and longevity, etc. again i would extend these arguments to point out this is part of a larger valorisation of thinness, and part of what's happening there historically is the european colonial construction of an imagined dichotomy between thin, controlled, 'managed' white bodies vs fat, unruly, disruptive black ones (pulling here from sabrina strings's 'fearing the black body'). you'll notice too that images of praised, fit, thin bodies are overwhelmingly white, whether we're talking outright anorexia forums or, like, fitness influencers who present themselves as promoting health and 'wellness'. that whiteness and thinness and fitness have such visual and rhetorical overlap is not a coincidence.

uh i could scrape my zotero and throw together more reading recs if anybody cares but off the top of my head i would also recommend mark greif's essay 'against exercise', helen zoe veit's book 'modern food, moral food', and probably like, foucault's 11th lecture in 'society must be defended' (1975–6 i believe).

[chrome-barkz-aac]

Hello! I saw your post the other day about verbal levels and you offered to give advice about where someone lays on the verbality spectrum and I was wondering if you could help me. If you don't feel comfortable answering this, feel free to delete.

Anyways, I've always had pretty bad speech issues (speech impediment, stutter, and recently just figured out that roughly 45% of the time I speak it sounds like garbled nonsense to the listener) and I can talk most of the time but like verbalizing words always has felt difficult to me, like I can't make my brain move my mouth properly or there's a brick wall in my brain that won't let me speak. Like if were physically speaking right now, I probably would have only been able to say a few sentences. And i feel like it's gotte harder, not easier, as I've gotten older (though psychotic disorders run in both sides of my family so that probably doesn't help). Though if I'm reading off of a well-rehearsed script (like for a presentation) I can usually speak just fine and that's a bit confusing also.

So, what do you think? Verbal with difficulties or semiverbal?

hi anon!

as i have said before, i am just one guy on the internet. i cannot tell you where you lie on the verbality spectrum with ne degree of certainty. im not a doctor or an SLP.

i do relate to your struggles though and understand where you're coming from and wanting to know how you fit in to this whole shebang.

i WOULD however recommend that you look into the word "demiverbal". it was coined here on tumblr and may suit what youre looking for. this is NOT me saying that you are definitively demi, semi or nonverbal. only you (and maybe with input from your care team) can determine where you lie on this spectrum.

i hope soemthing good happens to you today! i hope you figure this out with ease.

best of luck my friend!

chrome

[zephywolf0]

Very Long update!

hi to esteemed followers and (mostly) mutuals!

looks like i've done one of those things again where i leave my blog for months, convinced i'll never post anything again, only to return later with my art vastly improved. the only thing different this time is that i'm openly discussing it and not just quietly slipping an image onto someone's dash.

if you followed me for art - firstly, thank you kindly, secondly: how!? god some of this old stuff looks downright terrible!

and thirdly, you can expect at least some crumbs!.. unless i start forgetting to post again.

in my last personal update post i announced making this an "everything blog" which in hindsight was aributary because i still draw... mostly just greasers and psychobilly stuff with a few exceptions. i think when i posted that i was having one of my annual Vampire - the Masquerade fixations and expected most of my art to be centered around the game for much longer than it actually was. in the end, this remains The Blog of What I Was Gonna Draw Anyway.

i even actually got into making the comic i've been wanting to make forever (since like 2021 lol) and it's super exciting! i actually got the story kind of ironed out and i feel like i can maybe really stick to it this time? back then i constricted myself too much w composition and also just didn't have the skill to pull most of it off and now i actually can!!!!! i'm seriously surprisngly proud of myself! look at this compasion of march vs a few days ago!

march on the left new on the right lol

now into some actual personal stuff - mostly just because i seriously need to get this off my chest and for anyone interested in why i've been gone to get a little context, so tread the next couple paragraphs carefully as it is just a whole lot of complaining. unless you love reading internet strangers' woes it's not for you hahaha

things for me for the past couple of months aside from a few bright spots have been whatever the opposite of rock n' roll is (stand still and shuffle maybe.)

i graduated - obviously this was a lot of stress; i'm an animation major and crammed an about two and a half minute music video into a couple months, which was uhh hard. the band subsequently left me on read which i'm both mortified by and also can't blame them for cuz it did turn out ass. the entirety of my time after graduation was spent trying to find a job: as a non-citizen, getting into university didn't exactly seem in the books for me if i can't pay for it myself as i seriously didn't wanna put that additional stress on my parents. this was mostly fruitless as the job market is in the absolute crapper right now.

then i finally got covid after avoiding it for literally the entirely of the pandemic; the illness itself went surprisingly fine, but what came after is the actual disaster i live today. my immune system was completely destroyed and my chronic illnesses spiked. this caused me to lose the job that i did manage to get (let's go somehow below minimum wage!!!!) as i had an inflammation in my spine and was fired cuz i couldn't go into work.

right now my time is spent being sick ever since i got covid in august and also trying to get some documentation sorted. i need a citizenship and i need a disability status cuz if my health keeps on going this way i seriously can't see how i'll have a "real job" and even the measly hundred coin that the goverment can provide would be a massive help.

now this is where we circle back to one of the reasons this blog was started in the first place: being an immigrant really sucks! while yes, every day i'm grateful i'm here and not back there there are still some major fallbacks that can't exactly be ignored - mainly the fact that my current country may not want to let me in while my home country may not want to let me go. this is not something i have control over.

and speaking of my country, some big changes have been happening here that have definitely affected me hard. i mentioned in a previous textpost some long while ago that i'm no stranger to xenophobia and being stereotyped, and that has lately been blown way the hell out of proportion. PEOPLE ARE GETTING MEANER. PEOPLE ARE GETTING MORE CLOSE MINDED.

i don't really wanna disclose where i'm from in this post, i think i've mentioned it before, but if you're familiar you'll catch on.

yes, i understand this is an issue that affects all immigrants everywhere. yes i understand i'm super lucky to be where i am. but i am human and i can hurt and by god i am hurting right now. there's been a massive effort on my country's behalf to remove my first language from media; all schools that taught in my first language have been transformed to, well, not do that; there's a massive stained hole at the main train station where a sign in my first language was hanging. and i feel it. a child born here will no longer be of whatever family they belong to but they will be of the country and it hurts me.

again, i understand that this is a universal experience for migrants but to see it happen in real time is terrifying and absolutely discouraging. people see this change as a nice excuse to become absolutely horrible to those around them, and it's separating us instead of one country into two communities - "us" and "them," and i don't see the benefit. nobody i personally know sees the benefit, and yet somehow nobody who chooses to actually speak out on it seems to find this objectionable in any way at all - in fact, most outlets and spokespeople, whether they are from here or not, see this as a good thing, that those like me should just suck it up, "be more like them," that this is common sense. sure, in the vacuum of historic context, it might be, but we aren't living in history, we are living in the present and real people are affected and hurt by this. our great-great grandfathers don't give a shit. they're dead.

i'm alive and i breathe and i have a family i want to speak to and celebrate with in the way we are comfortable. i can keep moving, i can keep going, but i can't outrun my face which i feel gets more and more foreign the longer i look at it in the mirror.

all of the things above combined have been a massive strain on me psychologically and social media was seeeeeeriously the last thing on my mind. i gotta be honest i don't know WHAT force is holding me together rn but it's doing a damn good job because recently i actually started enjoying existence again. maybe it's cuz i learned not to be so depressed indoors; usually i couldn't go a few days without going outside without completely breaking down, but now sometimes i completely forget that going outside is something you Need To Do and just enjoy indoor hobbies. i know people usually say the opposite but i'm very sporty and active and enjoying being inside the whole day is kind of nuts. i've been loving my space more and more and i guess found a way to adapt my energetic nature to a constricting situation. i'm proud of myself for that too.

thanks for reading if you stuck it out this long and look forward to more drawings, hopefully.

[lmaoitsyuuji]

Nah I’d meme

(Do memes (as it is popular in Malaysian politics) provide a useful way of understanding politics?)

Even politics aren’t safe from being ‘meme’d’.

Meme?

The term ‘meme’ (from the Greek word “mimoúmai”, meaning ‘to imitate’) was coined by a British evolutionary biologist, Richard Dawkins in his 1976 book ‘The Selfish Gene’ (Benveniste 2022). A meme is a piece of media that is repurposed to deliver a cultural, social or political expression through humour and can be in the form of a picture or a video.

Quirk: Meme-ify

Memes exists in every social media platform you can think of—Instagram, TikTok, X and even WhatsApp. Do you know what meme format that is popular nowadays? Cat memes >^•-•^<

Cat memes, that had died down in 2010, has risen back from the ashes and are the hype nowadays. Honestly, I laugh at most, if not all, cat memes cause I’m a loser and that’s how I roll.

Behold, the thousand yard cat stare.

When meme meets politics

There seems to be an ongoing trend of people creating memes of political figures/parties in their countries. Trump is likely the most ‘meme’d’ political figure in history—just scrolling through the internet makes that pretty clear!

Political memes have become a common way for people to be exposed to political content and express their political views online (Halversen & E.Weeks 2023). Political memes’ purpose is to make fun of the political state of a country—however, it can educate people about politics as well. It is a good way for information to be spread around as it attracts netizens to engage with political memes. People no longer want to read but prefer to take a few seconds to view a meme and make a simple comment or adjustment to it and resend it to other platforms (Kasirye 2019, p. 45).

“Meme-laysia”

We usually see a surge of new memes online whenever election is around the corner or when a political figure messes up in their job (which they OFTEN do) and Malaysia is no stranger to political memes. In fact, Malaysian netizens strive in creating political memes. The distinguished gentleman above is probably the most well-known ‘meme’ in Malaysia. Memes about him cursing in the Malaysian Parliament garnered attention from locals and foreigners alike—talk about going viral for the wrong reason!

Additionally, memes were used extensively during the 15th General Election in Malaysia across many social media platforms and the influence of memes among young people in the social media sphere succeeded in altering Malaysian politics once more (Mohd Nizah et. al 2024, p.120). Political memes affect Gen-Z voters that participated in the PRU 15 election where over 4.5 million of them are under the age of 21. Memes act as a tool that distils complex political issues, making them more relatable and easier to understand to the younger generations.

Aside from that, there is an example of a popular Malaysian political meme that happens to be about our former Malaysian Prime Minister, Muhyiddin Yassin. To recap everything, Muhyiddin Yassin announced his resignation on August 16, 2021, on live TV after serving only one year in office. This caused confusion amongst Malaysians and they took to social media to share their confused reactions to the news (Lee 2021). You might be asking—what’s wrong with that? You see, the problem about this is that Muhyiddin resigned from being a Prime Minister… to a ‘caretaker’ PM (until there’s a new successor comes). So, he basically resigned from being the Prime Minister of Malaysia… to the Prime Minister of Malaysia. This political issue has birthed many funny memes and here are some memes to prove it:

Source: Mashable SE Asia

Meme-ocracy

Now, do memes (as it is popular in Malaysian politics) provide a useful way of understanding politics? Yes, I do think they provide a useful way for people to understand politics. The younger generations use memes to understand and learn about the political state of Malaysia, especially during elections, as it is easier to consume than traditional news source. Memes simplify complex issues and make them more relatable, helping young people engage with the political landscape in a way that feels more accessible and entertaining. Seeing as how the young generations are becoming voters now, political figures use memes as a political marketing strategy to relate to the younger generations as well as to spread their propaganda to citizens. They also use memes to cope with the current trends of the world and to communicate with the younger generation as memes are less formal, straightforward, humorous and easily comprehended (Nieubuurt 2021).

Thoughts

I do believe people, especially Malaysian citizens, can understand politics through memes. People relate to memes and some memes, even political ones, can be hilarious. I like memes and so should you :).

(773 words)

References

Benveniste, A 2022, The Meaning and History of Memes, The New York Times, viewed 3rd October 2024,

<https://www.nytimes.com/2022/01/26/crosswords/what-is-a-meme.html>

Halversen, A & E.Weeks, B 2023, Memeing Politics: Understanding Political Meme Creators, Audiences, and Consequences on Social Media, Sage Journals, viewed 3rd October 2024,

<https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/full/10.1177/20563051231205588 >

Kasirye, F 2019, The Effectiveness of Political Memes as a Form of Political Participation amongst Millenials in Uganda, pp.44-52, Journal of Education and Social Sciences, Vol. 13, Issue 1, viewed 3rd October 2024

Lee, J 2021, Confused Malaysians make sense of country’s political crisis through memes, Mashable SE Asia, viewed 3rd October 2024,

<https://sea.mashable.com/culture/17175/confused-malaysians-make-sense-of-countrys-political-crisis-through-memes>

Mohd Nizah, MA, Abu Bakar, AR, Zahran, MA & Mohd Mokhtar, MA 2024, The Influence of Political Memes on Political Marketing Strategy in Malaysia, pp. 118-131, Journal of Public Administration and Governance Vol.14, ResearchGate, viewed 3rd October 2024.

Nieubuurt, J 2021, Internet Memes: Leaflet Propaganda of the Digital Age, Frontiers, viewed 3rd October 2024,

<https://www.frontiersin.org/journals/communication/articles/10.3389/fcomm.2020.547065/full>

[sketch-pencilpoint]

Little robots: the little city

S1 E3: the little city part 3

Summary: Now in haybaile, the other robots have a lot to do and learn if they want to live in this little city. Not to mention, new lifestyle changes, new homes (aside from the ones they took with them) and even building careers.

*it took a while, but eventually, all of the little robots were now in the small town of haybaile. Tiny was so excited to show all of his friends this exciting new place. As gadget takes noted on who wants what transported (if they decide to stay, that is), tiny begins to act as a tour guide for the other little robots. It took until sundown, but eventually, even stretchy was convinced. They were going to move to haybaile to see what this new life would bring. Of course, there's a few things they would need to know first. So once they robots get settled into their temporary homes, tiny gets to teaching

Tiny: So! The first thing you need to know is how to read! Here they have written communication to help convey information and to send messages at long distances with ease.

*sporty raises his hand

Tiny: Sporty?

Sporty: How do they do that?

Tiny: they have these things called 'phones' and this thing called the 'internet'. These phones can be used to send either audio calls or written texts and messages to communicate information easily.

Everyone: *murmers and chatter about how ingenious that is*

Tiny: and as you can see *he flips his board, now showing diagrams of currency and how it/jobs work* here they also have this thing called 'bot coin'. It's used to get things and services like help building things

*Once again, everyone mutters in wonder over the amazing advances of these robots

*Meanwhile, Gadget and some of the other residents in haybaile are busy moving the desired belongings of the little robots. In order, tiny (and to an extent messy) spoke with the mayor, and the nut and bolt tree will replace the broken statue in the middle of town. Sporty only wanted his sports equipment kept, alongside his hoop, trampoline, and treadmill. Stretchy predictably wanted his junk and junk shoot moved (they found a way to ensure it still gave him regular deliveries). Rusty only wanted her furniture and decor. Stripey decided to keep only his garden and all of his flowers. Noisy at first wanted to only move her instruments, but when she really wanted to keep her plinky plonky stairs, she just had the whole house moved. Spotty, similarly, had her whole house moved. If she didn't have to have her first lesson in literacy, she would have supervised. Scary wanted to move his props, costumes, mirror and, his pride and joy, the ghost train. And the sparkies only were able to keep their roller planks and roll alongs. Plus, the sparky mobiles. All this while our little robots were learning how to read.

*a few days later

*now that the robots have settled in, a lot has happened. Let's start with tiny and make our way from there. Once settled, tiny began wondering what kind of job he'd pursue. That's when gadget comes over to his new home.

Gadget: hey tiny. You have a minute

Tiny: of course! What's the problem

Gadget: no problem... but the mayor wanted me to give you this

*he hands over a piece of paper. Despite only being here for a few days, tiny is already literate (to an extent)

Tiny: this... is an invitation to medical school...

Gadget: Yeah. Lightbot spoke to your friends and learnt that you fixed them when they broke, so he decided to offer for you to train to get an official medical licence. You see... we have a lack of a proper doctor at our local medical centre. Plus, the nearest hospital is a long way away for those who need some quick but not complicated fixes. So he wanted to know if you wanted to go to med school and become our new doctor.

Tiny: I'd... be honoured

*Meanwhile, noisy is being... herself. As she belts with all of her heart, she fails to notice that the crowd around her are just... annoyed at her racket. If you couldn't guess, she's singing her very noisy song. Still, she remains unaware, for now. But this scene will be important for later.

* Back to a more quiet area, we go to the diner. Run by a robot known as Mr. Diner. It's unknown if that was a coincidence, or he renamed himself when he wanted to run the diner. Never the less, rusty walks through the doors of this place. As it happened, diner himself was visiting as he often does, this time to see his daughter, who worked there. As for her motivation, she was only looking. But instead

Diner: and who might you be?

Rusty (letting out some steam in surprise): o..oh! I'm... Rusty.. I'm new here and was, um, looking around.

Diner: well, you certainly are a new face. Say, you wouldn't happen to be looking for a job would you?

Rusty: oh, not exactly, but it would be nice.

Diner: Well, how about you come work here! A pretty face like yours would be great here. And at the very least it will be some good experience.

Rusty: you... would hire.. me? Oh I'd be honoured, sir!

Diner: Great. Meet me here tomorrow at 9 am sharp, and we can start your training to see if you'd do well here.

* Again, we move to someone else. This time stretchy. If you recall, haybaile has a large, mostly unused scrapyard. As you could expect, stretchy, with some advice and encouragement from the mayor, is opening a workshop and scrap selling/trading unit. Of course, however, spotty has to roll in as he's trying to build up one of the main walls.

Spotty (spends a second dusting herself before speaking): stretchy! How good to run into..

Stretchy: Spotty, I'll be blunt, I have not moved from this area in an hour. You came up to me.

Spotty (now flustered): So.. so what if I did. I.. I.. oh, I just wanted to see you. I was.. I was visiting everyone to see how they were doing, yes.

Stretchy: Are you now? Well can't you see I'm trying to work on my soon to be shop?

Spotty: so you are. You are a clever bot aren't you?

Stretchy (with a hint of suspicion): I am... don't you have someone else to bother?

Spotty (taken aback) well I.. no I.. you're the last robot that was on my list, yes. So you were the last of my friends I had visited.

*stretchy groans. He's not falling for whatever spotty is trying to accomplish. But as she dribbles on and he continues building, he can't help but wonder what those motivations are.

*that evening

As the sun slowly set, something tiny was now getting used to, he and messy sit in front of the new resting place of the nut and bolt tree. Despite everything, he still loved his old home. He and his friends had worked together to make it. They have lived there for so long, it feels weird to have left. But in the end, this place is better. Right..

* Gadget notices tiny sitting with his dog messy, and even he can tell that tiny is upset. There are no words to be said, though. All he does is sit down on the other side of tiny, to offer his support. This continues. First rusty, who at first wanted to tell tiny about her job offer. Then sporty, who was following rusty to ask for some advice on getting a job. Then scary, who wanted tiny to help convince the mayor to let him keep his ghost train. Then noisy, who was only walking by but decided to join her friends. Then the sparkies, who wanted tinys help fixing their roll alongs. Then stripy, who was having a nice walk. Even mayor lightbot, who was looking for gadget but found this more important. Then spotty. But before she reached tiny, she noticed stretchy rolling towards the crowd of his friends. Being spotty, she assumes he wants to see her, so she waddles up to him

Spotty: Oh, stretchy, look. All of our friends are huddled up together. How about we go for a little walk together to take our minds of things, hm?

* At this point, stretchy was annoyed. He wanted to join his friends. He could tell what they were doing at this point. So he decided to do something. Something that ruined the illusion that this series is for the same demographic. A single action that causes this thing to become only for adults. Better here than now. What he did was say a simple phrase towards his least favourite robot before joining all of the others. And this was...

Stretchy: fuck off, spotty

[tvmigraine]

FORGOTTEN LIVES: Graeme Harper

Before we begin! Remember to get a copy of the Forgotten Lives Omnibus at this link! We're six Doctors in now, if you're interested, then preorder at the link before the end of August - that's only a few more days!

One Doctor is down for the day, we're onto the Doctor I shamelessly admit to find the most fascinating. By this point we've started in a supernatural world and taken a walk back into stories like we'd expect from Doctor Who, returning to sci-fi. Aditya Bidikar takes us back to the fantasy genre that the Barry Doctor started us in through more than just the setting, but through a Doctor that walks in the realm of fables and grandiose concepts... and comic books.

Graeme Harper (1945) is currently the one and only director for Modern and New Series Doctor Who. With his earliest credits being The Caves of Androzani and Revelation of the Daleks before returning for the RTD era for events like Rise of the Cybermen / The Age of Steel and The Stolen Earth / Journey's End, no doubt we're all familiar with their work in some way.

Aditya Bidikar brings a unique side of the Doctor out, I'd argue one of the more standout incarnations overall. While still noticeably and clearly the Doctor, there is a presence that I haven't seen since Sylvester McCoy's portrayal. The Harper Doctor very well may be the other side of the coin that McCoy portrayed - where one is a dark trickster in an unsuspecting from, the other is a wanderer in the unknown that marvels at every step. The pair are the only Doctors that I could picture being able to talk to higher concepts such as Death, which both incarnations prove to do.

While I've focused a lot on the main authors in these posts, I have to give great credit to Cody Schnell and their story - "Scene to Uncover" steps up to Bidikar's universe flawlessly, showing a moment we don't often get to see in Doctor Who while feeling right at home. They take full opportunity of the themes and fairy-tale like stories to paint their own fascinating glimpse of greater beings at work.

Even the TARDIS, designed as always by Paul Hanley, perfectly captures what this era could be. The darker blues and purples of the interior make it feel relaxed and cosy, while the library at the back could practically sum up this entire Doctor. Their adventures feel exactly like what "Forgotten Lives" should be, stories pulled off of a dusty shelf that haven't been read in so long that it's like you're experiencing them for the first time all over again.

One interesting note of design involves the Doctor's ambiguous gender. There are multiple references throughout their era about how this Doctor must be a man because they've got a beard (which may not be entirely accurate). Apart from just adding some well needed variety to the Morbius lineup and unwittingly making Graeme Harper a gender non-conforming icon for the book, this feels very in line with what could've been done at the time. Considering the disgusting reaction that Jodie Whittaker's debut as the Doctor caused from certain corners of the internet, having a woman debut as the Doctor over sixty years ago could've led to an equally gross reaction. One way that it might've been worked around is by simply implying the Doctor had become a woman while presenting as a man, an implication carrying a hundred words and a dozen queer readings as a result (I personally love how older media would get around harsher reactions by simply implying what they wanted, so this detail grabbed my interest quick).

Graeme Harper was a fun roadbump when it came to the Morbius Doctors as his photos wasn't taken with everybody else, instead being retrieved from elsewhere. What went into designing this Doctor is too much for me to shorten and sum up in a single post - Paul Hanley managed to crack the long standing mystery of where Harper's Morbius photo originally came from and you can find that in his post detailing how he made the outfit. Of course, the outfit of this Doctor would've ended up quite different if they had used the one in the actual photo - an Adjudicator costume. So instead, Paul Hanley had the unique chance to design his own outfit befitting of this Doctor specifically. This, of course, leading to the ultimate addition to an outfit - a psychic beard.

For more insight into the creative process of every author that worked on Forgotten Lives, you can go to @forgottenlivesobverse and find interviews from everyone involved across the books. If you're looking for the incredible journey of finding an obscure photo of Graeme Harper, you can go to Paul Hanley's Patreon and find what went into designing each Doctor.

Prepare to watch the Doctor embrace the birth of the known universe and choose to go against Death itself in the following stories.

VALHALLA MUST FALL! by Aditya Bidikar

IN THE LAND BEYOND THE RIVER by Aditya Bidikar

RETROGENESIS (Part Six) by Philip Purser-Hallard

SCENE TO UNCOVER by Cody Schnell

Our next Doctor will be Robert Holmes, with a series of stories that best shows how cruel the Time Lords can really be when they want to. Enjoy a darker period of the Doctor's life when we dive into this next time!

[afpwestcoast]

The Social, Orlando, FL, 6/18/23

Before the show I ran into Brian on the street and asked him what the new song (which had been dubbed Tom’s New Favorite Song at last night’s show) was actually called. He said it’s called ‘Boyfriend in a Coma’ and was actually written about 19 years ago but had only recently been arranged as a Dresden Dolls song. It’s based on her then-boyfriend Brendon suddenly collapsing during a load-out after a show, developing Guillain–Barré syndrome, and going into a coma for like 6 months, during which time Amanda hardly left his bedside. You can hear a demo of it here. It will always be Tom’s New Favorite Song to me.

When my nephew was 12 or 13 years old he googled Amanda Palmer to find out why his uncle kept jetting around all over the place to see her. Afterwards, due to the number of pictures that came up of Amanda in various stages of undress, he asked, “Is she a porn star?”

When I told Amanda this story she inscribed a copy of ‘Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance’ for him: “To Dylan - I am not a porn star. No really. Love, -Amanda.” I gave him the book for his 18th birthday.

He’s now 26, and he lives in Orlando, so I brought him to the show. When I planted him in the front row against the stage I said, “Just so you understand: there are thousands of people all over the world who would kill to be standing where you are right now.” At the time I’m sure there was some eye rolling, but by the end of the evening I think he understood.

Unfortunately, guest bassist Tilley Komorny had come down with COVID in the past 24 hours, so we were not able to fight for our right (to party!). Despite this the band torched through another stellar set, with only minimal property damage.

Annotated Set List:

Good Day (featuring Brian on guitar to start)

Sex Changes

Gravity

Backstabber - Due to a “band miscommunication” they actually started playing different songs. I kinda think they shoulda just gone with it, but they restarted and both played Backstabber.

Modern Moonlight - Once again Brian led the crowd in the backing-vocal part before diving into the song.

My Alcoholic Friends

There was a pause in the set to introduce the band, tape down the piano pedal, and, of course, say GAY!

Rock and Roll Part 2 (aka The Hey Song - Gary Glitter cover) - Brief excerpt with the shout of “Hey!” replaced with “GAY!”

“If you’re looking for a gay band, look no further!”

Boyfriend in a Coma - By way of introduction Amanda said, “I’ve been sitting here for the last few nights thinking ‘I wouldn’t want to break up with me.’ Just warning you: I’m like the goth Taylor Swift. If you go out with me, and we break up in a bad way, you’re fucked. You’re SO fucked! This song is not quite really like that, but it lives in that dimension.”

Merch commercial

Welcome to the Internet (Bo Burnham cover)

Bad Habit

Missed Me

Amsterdam (Jacques Brel cover) - During her rampage up and down the bar tonight Amanda actually broke one of the lighting fixtures. “We broke that light, which means we’re gonna have to pay for that light. Buy more merch!”

Delilah (featuring Veronica Swift)

After taking a huge swig of wine straight from the bottle, Amanda said, “The truth is I stopped being as much of a lush when I had a child cause it just didn’t work. I don’t know if anybody has ever tried to have a small child and be hungover, but it’s fucking impossible.”

Whakanewha (pronounced Fuckin-A-Fa)

Mrs. O

Twenty Years Ago, Part 2 - Another impromptu composition about a song about climate denialism being more true now than when it was written 20 years ago. Conclusion: That’s fucked up.

They then welcomed to the stage Father Nathan Monk, who told the story of why he left the priesthood. Bottom line: The conservative (read: ignorant, bigoted, and, frankly, unchristian) dictates of his church were incompatible with his progressive world view.

Mandy Goes to Med School

Coin-Operated Boy - At the start of the song instead of singing the lyrics Amanda just sang, “Gay, gaygaygaygaygay” to the tune. Then at the end she changed the line to “Gay and to the point.”

Half Jack

——

War Pigs (Black Sabbath cover)

Girl Anachronism - At this point, at the end of the third night in a row, I was exhausted and could barely stand. In a fit of wishful thinking, I actually thought they were going to close with “Sing,” and I would have a nice, calm denouement - I even took out my earplugs. Instead, I got a face full of Girl A. I managed to power through … and then collapsed on the stage.

Photo Gallery:

Dylan’s final few moments of pre-Dresden Dolls innocence (photo by Laurie Steiger)

Merch commercial; I was too enthralled through the first part of the set to take pix

Welcome to the Internet!

Grrrrrr!

Amsterdam

One of those light fixtures will not survive

Delilah

Let’s see how fast this thing can go!

Brian: You know what you did. Amanda: I know tee-hee!

Father Nathan Monk

The many faces of Brian Viglione

Really dude?

I remain convinced that Amanda’s stare can shatter glass

The end!

I’m not the only one who collapsed on the stage afterwards