#Cap has some identity drama

[billybatsonbrainrot]

Has anyone asked about “gods body swap” yet?

Hello! :) You're the first to ask about "Gods Body Swap"! It's an identity reveal fic.

It starts off with the Justice League fighting a villain with magical psychic powers. The villain, about to lose, decides to body swap the whole justice league. However, Captain Marvel always had mental barriers strong enough to cause headaches to anyone who tried to enter his mind. Or at least Billy's, because their power goes past Billy and onto the six gods that gave him his powers.

Now the gods have been body swapped with the justice league and Billy stays the same. But the justice league is now in his head where the gods are supposed to be, and everyone is freaking out. The gods and Billy are able to defeat the villain because their powers transferred over with their consciousness. They find out after the fight that the effects will last a week at max.

This of course, causes more freaking out among the league. They didn't even know Cap had literal voices inside his head. And they belonged to gods!? They're not even in anyone's physical body, just floating around Cap like ghosts.

At least there's some good news. The gods, since they're gods and weren't physically here just more of an astral mind projection that come and go as they please, can actually go back into their original bodies. None of the members have to worry their reputation or relationships in their personal life being ruined. And Billy won't have to worry about looking after them.

They leave the JL members' bodies in the med bay.

The Justice League, however, are not gods. Something is blocking them from entering their own bodies.

Which means Billy is left with:

Batman as Soloman

Superman as Hercules

Green Arrow as Atlas

Wonder Woman as Zeus

Green Lantern as Achilles

Flash as Mercury

And Billy wants to find a way to help them right away. But first-...well first he has to go home and have dinner because he promised Rosa he'll be home by 7. And he actually has a test tomorrow, so he can't miss school. He's actually busy the whole week, so finding a faster way won't even matter in the end.

The justice league is left with no other choice but to follow him around as spectators, only allowed to make commentary.

At first, they were intrigued when Cap said he had a personal life to get back to. Now they can do nothing as they come to the horrifying realization that their coworker is a legitimate child. And then they find out that his siblings are too.

They are also interested in Billy's school life. Who said high school drama isn't entertaining? At least his grades aren't slipping.

[tobi-smp]

I'm breaking my silence:

beeduo was never actually a good duo name, we were just used to it because that's what everyone called it.

alliumduo is tied to ranboo and tommy's first meeting, where ranboo gave tommy his first gift and tommy Kept It. with it coming back around after tommy's death, with ranboo Finding It and realizing how meaningful it was (thinking about how tommy cared for him, and how he should've done more to show his care for tommy).

it's a 10/10 for being something obviously relevant to both characters and their relationship to each other (and Meaningfully so) + something directly and majorly plot relevant so most people are aware of it.

clingyduo comes directly from tubbo and tommy (with tommy playfully accusing tubbo of being clingy when he's obviously just as, if not more so), while Also being a statement on their relationship As Characters. the fact that they Are tied at the hip, how their connection to each other is a major part of their identities. they come together, and some of the biggest moments of drama on the server are those events that drive them apart.

I'd say that alliumduo is a Little stronger, just in the sense that it's connected to two major events that are outwardly acknowledged in the text as being symbolic for their relationship (which makes it easier to point towards as the Specific origin of the name), but it's still a solid 9/10 from me

benchtrio is a Doozy for me. on the surface it sounds a little silly, but it's Significant because of what it represented In The Moment. tubbo and tommy sitting on Their bench to listen to Their music discs has been a Theme in clingyduo. it's how they've capped off major arcs of the series, it's representative of Them. so the first moment that tommy invited ranboo to sit with them Was Significant. it was tommy inviting ranboo into that dynamic he'd built with tubbo, even as he'd felt insecure In that relationship.

no notes, 10/10 from me boys

and then beeduo is !

it's !!

well, I'm sure there was a moment where ranboo gave tubbo a bee or perhaps beefarm, or maybe ranboo Also expressed a liking for bees. I don't remember what that moment was and I doubt I've ever heard of it before and I've never seen anybody else talk about it Either.

they're literally married and have a child together, tubbo killed Multiple people after ranboo died, he's haunted by the literal ghost of his husband. they have a mansion in the tundra, they have a commune, they built a home together, ranboo was his minutes man and tubbo was his president, I Dunno ! there's just so much symbolism you Could work with

and beeduo is just that tubbo likes bees

I dunno, 4/10 at least pickleduo was weird and specific enough that people remember where it came from

[lilithess]

ASTRO OBSERVATIONS IV

capricorn suns are super wild (!!!) and easy to click with. nowhere near the boring capricorn stereotype. they are hardworking, reliable and tough people, but FUN! they have this motherly aura, more so than cancers. a capricorn to me is like a middle aged woman who decided to go wild after a few glasses of wine. and they’re not as judgmental as people claim them to be. the judgy rigid part that everyone talks about goes more for cap moons and mercuries.

aquarius loves a bit of drama (especially men) and wants attention (especially women), but not in a “in your face” way, not in a desperate way. they will keep their cool at all times, it’s like they’re constantly trying to maintain a persona. but if you read between the lines, you’ll notice the competitivness and ego trips. they all have a little “notice me” sittin inside. leo is just more open about it. aquarius men are highly unbothered. aquarius women remind me of closeted scorpio women.

comparing virgo men and virgo women. i don’t know a single nitpicky virgo man. they’re actually all so different. if i met a virgo man, i’d had never guessed it’s him because there’s nothing really that stands out as a common trait. women share the intensity and are incredibly smart and shrewd. i think this sign’s intelligence goes unnoticed. it gives such a “quality” person, even tho the nitpicking can be annoying

geminis can lack a backbone and boundaries a lot, especially at young age. not sure what’s with the “player” stereotype bc i can’t imagine being manipulated by a gemini (especially a guy). they’re honestly kids. however, the gemini as in the sign itself and what it represents has a sort of dangerous potential. they can really be indifferent about matters that i’ve seen no one else be so indifferent about. sort of like “who cares so why not?” lifestyle. they’ll laugh at their own pain like it’s nothing so why not at yours? they have a troll like nature to them and their curiosity has no limits. can be a very dark sign who, for some reason, is considered a light social butterfly.

no one attracts jealousy as well as a leo placement, especially leo rising, venus, and preferably leo stellium. i know a leo rising and that energy ate up her whole chart. no mind her virgo or 12H placements, she’s just OUT THERE in the spotlight always stealing the show. however, i think leo’s intelligence should be apreciated more bc these people are really more than just a diva in a leopard crop top. i’ve seen leo placements dumb themselves down (very annoying) and honestly they can be very naive. the sun shines light at every other planet in our solar system, not the other way around. i think people forget that no matter how much leo seeks attention, they are also the ones giving it to others.

i know mutables are rumored to change the most, but scorpio’s ability to just… change their entire life, identity and being can make you wonder wheather you even knew the person or not. i had a scorpio sun, mercury, mars and ascendant bestie who went from being a rebellious femme fatale who wouldn’t leave the house without make up; wore heels to high school and messed with other people’s relationships for fun - to a stay at home “wifey” with no social life and a man who’s probably not even going to marry her. no one even hears from her anymore. scorpios really die and reborn a completely different person. it’s not the little changes that mutables do on a daily base or just mid conversation. it’s a whole other person.

[yaeggravate]

just wanted to quickly share my thoughts on ronova's possible parallels to the character kundry, from wagner's opera parsifal

when the lord of the night talks about ronova she has this to say about her:

Yohualtecuhtin, Lord of the Night: The one you wish to know about... I call her "The Ruler of Death." She helped Natlan establish the rules. It was also under her guidance that I created the Night Kingdom... Yohualtecuhtin, Lord of the Night: It was an expression of love, as well as an act of reparation. She was seen as having significantly overstepped her authorities as a Shade, which quite displeased the almighty... Mm, Heavenly Principles. Yohualtecuhtin, Lord of the Night: She succumbed to self-pity as a result, and no longer cared if others discussed her identity. Even so, her existence remains unknown to all but a select few.

in the memory of xbalanque, we find out ronova has little freedom to do as she pleases. (though it's unclear what this means exactly)

Ronova: Very well. I shall agree to help you. But I am merely a Shade, and I do not have as much freedom to do as I please as you might think.

because i have anfortano on the brain, all of these bolded tidbits immediately reminded me of the sorceress kundry. in wagner's version, kundry was an (unwilling) accomplice in getting amfortas (spelled with an "m" here) cursed. kundry was wrecked with guilt over what she had done and tried to help amfortas and the grail knights despite her being under her master's control.

PARSIFAL Gurnemanz: Methinks a curse may still be on her life,—She is so wild and strange, so sad her very eyes. But now, whate'er the past, she is with us, And serves us to atone for earlier guilt. Perchance her work may shrive her of her sins. Surely she does full well to serve us well, And in the serving-help herself and us.

kundry was cursed herself to reincarnate over and over again for eternity. (because she laughed at jesus while he was being crucified lol.) she went under several names, one of which stood out to me; gundryggia. this name seems to be an invention by wagner himself that he gave his own meaning to:

In Act 2 of Wagner's music-drama, one of the names by which Klingsor addresses Kundry. Cosima's diary relates, "... at lunch he tells me: "She will be called Gundrygia (sic), the weaver of war", but then he decides to keep to Kundry" [14 March 1877]. Although it has been speculated that the name was that of a Valkyrie, the author has not been able to find the name Gundrygia or Gundryggia in any of the Old Norse sources, which contain many Valkyrie names. There is, however, a resemblance to the name Gunnr (meaning strife or battle), one of Odin's principal Valkyries, and this might have been the inspiration for Wagner to transform Kundry into Gundryggia.

at the end of the story, kundry dies and is freed from her suffering after parsifal saves amfortas.

back to capitano, it's said that ronova sent him on a long journey and that cap has a final foe to face. it's not explained yet what this means and can be interpreted several ways but when you consider possible kundry parallels perhaps ronova is helping cap break the curse which could potentially defeat her too or release her from her own torment/guilt over the Crimes™

anyway just something to think about, even if ronova isn't kundry, it would still be interesting to see her character implemented in the story in some way.

[georgiapeach30513]

Mrs pasta here checking in on you peach 🍑

Glad to see you doing well and as always, keeping positive and away from the drama.

I also see operation manufacturing an internet bf has some people in a tiff. 😂

I myself don’t mind the carbon copy, I think he’s cute and somewhat charming, but what I don’t love is seeing the sudden bandwagon jump as always.

I have always side eyed fair weathered fans. Jumping to whoever is “hot” at the moment and then piling on someone else when they are “down.” I have no issues with carbon copy having his own fans - I just resent a comparison being used to put one down over the other. There’s no need for that. Especially when some are doing it on purpose to get a rise out of others.

I also have a feeling some people will be crawling back in the near future. I’ve always thought Ramen wasn’t meant to go the commercial route of big blockbuster movies and beefcake persona. I think his innate nature (at least publicly) has shown he tends to thrive when he follows his guns and picks a risky or unique project with a director that has a specific vision. I think this is where he will continue to find inspiration and return on investment.

If money isn’t an issue for him anymore, I think these smaller but more original/different projects may carve him a future in character acting that I think he still has a chance to succeed in.

He doesn’t need to be a top shelf A lister or even awards darling to do it. He is talented and he will find an audience somehow, I am sure of this.

Remember - art is subjective. And what makes a good movie isn’t necessarily how many awards it gets or how big the box office numbers are. If you are someone’s favorite actor in a movie they watch religiously and they can quote every line, or you are an actor whose opened a person up to a new genre or franchise simply because they enjoyed you on screen - then in my books, you’ve succeeded. I think Ramen has done that for many people in this world and I don’t think he needs to prove anything to anyone. I myself have seen multiple men wearing cap America tshirts this month alone (it’s 2024!) - white, Asian, Black, Latinx, older, middle aged, teenaged, child. Both Ramen and his friend Buldak (three guesses who I’m referring to 😉 AM) have created a legacy that won’t be going away anytime soon. Ten years ago, I used to mainly see batman and superman t shirts. I don't think all these new fans are just people who like comic books.

Be well, peach. Until next time!

Mrs. Pasta!! I welcome you back, it’s been awhile, but glad to see you around these neck of the woods again.

I actually think Chris’ career was heading out of the internet boyfriend for a while, and now here we are. I’ve tried to remain out of this discourse because I never want to yuck on someone else’s yum, but of course people want to push him and his projects on me, or want to talk about him, and eventually I do, and they don’t like it. When I’ve stated multiple times that the man does absolutely nothing for me in looks and I don’t enjoy his movies, and that’s being generous given his list of projects. Everyone has their time to come up, but his has been quick, since working on Top Gun. Almost like he has someone who wanted to invest in his career. Good for him. Now go away and create a new identity 😂

As you talk about the fair weathered fans, it just proves it was more about the looks and persona than about the talent. Which is fine, but we don’t have to kick him when he’s down to lift another up. I have been a fan of his since 2001. I became a fan for his looks, yes, and stayed because I enjoyed him. I enjoyed his body of work, meaning projects. I enjoyed his public persona, etc. You don’t stay a fan for over 20 years on looks alone. Although his looks to me are a bonus.

Chris’ career is fine, despite what some people believe. It is not of the height as it was when he was in Marvel, but neither is RDJ’s, Scarlett’s, or anyone’s. Marvel is a wheelhouse, and is in a league all of its own, so it’s silly to compare the two. However, Chris has had movies since Not Another Teen movie where he was the lead, and had a character name. It was a slow, but steady climb to his peak in 2018/2019. But he has officially announced three projects for this year alone. People don’t even know what he could be planning for 2025. He is an attractive white man that has a reputation for an excellent work ethic. He’ll be okay.

And you’re right. I would wager most actors aren’t A-List anymore. I seriously get tired of this conversation because it goes around in circles. But this age of celebrities are not the ones from the past. And that’s okay. Things change. As long as he is happy with his career and the way it’s going, and he’s being fulfilled it shouldn’t matter if he’s in huge box office successes.

Buldak! I love this!! I think the spicy ramen suits Mackie 😉 And you’re right. Superman was the superhero of the past. Now, it’s Captain America. Nobody can ever take Steve Rogers from Chris, or the fact that he was the face of Marvel for years. But I don’t even consider Steve to be one of my favorite characters. However, he was perfect for it, and nobody could have done it better.

As always, Mrs. Pasta, thanks for dropping in!

[thebibliomancer]

What If? Vol. 2 #5: “What if the Vision had destroyed the Avengers?” and “What if Wonder Man hadn’t died?”

You can’t have both, book.

The thing here is that this issue is more about What If Wonder Man hadn’t died? and the events then lead to a big change in the story where Vision was introduced.

Some What Ifs tell a story. Other What Ifs show the long term ripples one change could have.

This is one of the latter.

It explores how changing the outcome of Avengers #9 would reverberate all the way through Avengers #58.

A frankly huge amount of story that the issue skims through.

So I’ll just summarize some of the bigger changes.

So starting off, instead of luring the Avengers into an ambush from the Masters of Evil, Wonder Man comes clean about how he was being extorted into working for Zemo.

With Wonder Man’s help, the Avengers clean the clocks of the Masters. Hank doesn’t go to the fight, instead consulting with Reed Richards to make a cure for Wonder Man’s condition.

With the Masters thoroughly trounced, they don’t come back for another confrontation in Avengers #15.

The original roster still disbands and even earlier, right after the Count Nefaria thing in issue 13. Hank Pym had been getting insecure about his place in the team when Wonder Man was so cool so when Wasp gets injured during the Nefaria incident, he talks her into leaving the team. But the other founders want to leave too, leaving Captain America and Wonder Man to form a new Avengers with Hawkeye, Quicksilver, and Scarlet Witch.

I don’t like Wonder Man’s original costume but I have to admit that it looks okay next to this blend of costumes and colors.

As it ever was, Hawkeye and Quicksilver squabble with Cap over who should be in charge but in this version Wonder Man speaks on behalf of Cap.

Scarlet Witch is so impressed by his passion, that she decides if Cap wasn’t leader, Wonder Man should be.

Wanda choosing another man over him puts a mighty bee in Quicksilver’s bonnet.

Geez Pietro, he was willing to make it a threesome!

When Cap leaves, he makes Wonder Man the new leader. Quicksilver threatens to quit and take Wanda with him unless she promises to bury any romantic feelings she has for Wonder Man.

Because Pietro isn’t actually a robophobe, he’s just an overly controlling jackass.

With Wonder Man leading the team, several villain plots just don’t come about. Doom decides not to lure the Avengers to Latveria. And Swordsman refuses to infiltrate the team, to the Mandarin’s murderous disapproval.

When Hank Pym comes to the Avengers for help with the Wasp being kidnapped, Wonder Man doesn’t make him sizeshift to prove his identity.

Hank doesn’t get stuck in his Goliath size, doesn’t go through all the heart ache and drama, doesn’t un-retire at all even when Wasp joins the team. Without all that messing with his mind and body, Hank marries Jan without having an emotional breakdown first and their relationship is more solid.

He happily takes the job as the team’s science guy while Jan does her superhero thing.

The wedding is so romantic that Wanda and Wonder Man find their feelings rekindling. Pietro quits in a huff, runs off, and ends up rejoining Magneto to get revenge on the human that “corrupted” his sister.

For some reason, this leads Magneto to create the Grim Reaper identity for Pietro.

This is one of the moments where the sequence of events feels less thought out and more arbitrary to hit an iconic thing.

Somehow in separate timelines Ultron and Magneto create the same Grim Reaper costume and equipment for different overly clingy brothers.

Then in what would have been issue 53, where Magneto pit the Avengers against the X-Men. Instead of both Wanda and Pietro being with Magneto, only Pietro is.

Magneto tries to kill Wanda, Pietro sacrifices himself to save her, and a supremely pissed Wanda makes Magneto blow up.

In the aftermath, Wonder Man proposes to Wanda and they get married.

Aww.

This is the only Wanda/Simon ship I accept. I can’t buy them as a couple otherwise because Byrne tried to shove them together while Wanda was grieving her husband being disassembled by the government.

Anyway. That’s the entire first half of the issue, summarizing through the issues between 9 and 58 so the rest of the book can slow down and just look at how everything discussed impacts Vision’s introduction.

The big thing is that since Wonder Man never died, there was no spare tape of his brain laying around Pym’s lab for Ultron to steal.

Without one readily at hand, the evil and impulsive robot dismisses the idea that anyone else get to move into this cool new robot he built.

Things then start how they did but then diverge sharply.

VisionUltron attacks Wasp but then passes out for mysterious reasons.

Hank and Jan takes the unconscious Vision to Avengers Mansion where he reactivates and starts whupping all their asses. Thor, Iron Man, and Captain America show up and also get their asses whupped.

Hank puts two and two together from this mysterious robot calling him daddy and runs off from the battle to finally un-retire and suit up as Ant-Man.

VisionUltron realizes the people he beat up keep getting back up again and fists Wonder Man in the heart.

Thor and Iron Man abandon battle to try and save Wonder Man’s life. And thankfully, Ant-Man shows up with thousands of ants.

While the ants distract VisionUltron, Hank takes a fantastic journey inside and unplugs Vision’s brain.

Alas, the battle is won but Simon is lost. Perfectly Normal Doctor Donald Blake showing up isn’t enough to save him.

But Hank has an idea.

Hank makes a recording of Simon’s brain patterns while he’s still alive and puts them in the vacant Vision body.

And a heroic Vision, based on the brain patterns of Simon Williams and married to the Scarlet Witch, joins the Avengers.

Like Pietro becoming Grim Reaper, this feels like a major “in spite of a nail” moment.

And I’m much more okay with it here than with the Grim Reaper thing.

It feels like an example of everything turning out the same despite major changes but it’s not. Not quite.

This Vision is not the Vision we know. Where Simon’s brain recording was just used as a framework to build a mind.

This is Simon. It’s Simon or a mental clone of him, anyway, poured into a full body prosthetic.

He’s going to have his own angsts and dramas and feelings about that, not just go through the motions of Vision’s.

For example, he’s already married to Wanda. He won’t have to go through an arc where he thinks he can’t love and acts all moody about it.

Just like Simon’s first survival, this second one is another huge change that’s going to send ripples throughout a huge swathe of issues.

I would love a sequel to this What If? that skimmed through another bunch of comics to explore what would change.

Will Eric become the second Grim Reaper in this timeline, furious at the Avengers for turning his brother into a robot?

We’re not going to get a Wonder Man zombie arc!

Will Beast still become besties with Simon?

Does some part of Ultron still exist within Vision’s brain?

Mantis probably isn’t showing up. Swordsman died.

Magneto and Quicksilver are dead!

Hank and Janet’s relationship is probably solid!

So many things are different now!

What Ifs don’t usually get follow-ups. I’m bummed.

You can probably guess from my excitement but this is my favorite of the What Ifs I’ve covered so far.

[here-lies-the-sillies]

Cecilia Schwann is a Persona/Danganronpa OC, she/her, lesbian, autistic, and is 14/15 at the events of the Persona part of her story. She loves to give nicknames to everyone she is friends with (with herself prefering to go by the nickname Ceec), they are often quite dumb. She is quite overprotective of her close friends and family, often willing to stretch her limits to save the ones she holds dear. Ceec has a habit of putting up ‘masks’ (haha) to avoid being seen as someone unworthy, which has caused some identity crisies in the past. She will sometimes, if she is in a high state of stress, will isolate herself from the world like she would do when she was younger. She often writes in a journal to try and combat her pretty shoddy memory. Shes an actress and a pretty damn good one too. She has 2 best friends, Kasumi (Sumi) and Elias (Eli). She can speak in 4 different languages, and had won the national spelling bee the year before she moved

She often wears a trenchcoat that she has embroidered many patches on over the years over a graphic t-shirt and sweatpants with heeled boots. Her curly hair is cut short during her time in New York. Her eyes are dark brown. She is pretty pale on account of her keeping inside most of the time. She wears a friendship bracelet with her best friends approximate eye color on string around her wrist.

In the Dreamverse, her code name is Drama, but everyone tends to call her Cap-Cap. She wears a black trenchcoat over a blue shirt and black pants. Her hat is blue with black accents. Cecc’s mask is a happy drama mask, obscuring half her face. She cannot see through that side unless she rips the mask off. Her shoes still reflect her real world shoes, just with shorter heels

she lives in new york in the persona part of the story, she is there because she is supposed to act on broadway (im probably going to make up a musical at some point, but for now, the show itself is tbd) She herself is quite unsure of her acting abilities, even though she loves acting and so many people praised her in her hometown, and the fact that “You’re going to be on fucking BROADWAY, Cecil! Lighten up!!”

On the first night in New York, she texts her best friends Eli and Sumi in a bit of a panic. They both manage to calm her down enough for her to go to sleep.

She expects to be in a dream, but instead is met with a subway station and 2 people (Igor and the Velvet Room Atendent Theo) Ceec demands to know where she is and how she ended up here, but Igor just laughs in her face, telling her to pipe down. Igor then explains what the Velvet Room is, who Theo is, and all the functions of the Velvet Room

Cecilia woke up the next day feeling somthing akin to “a floppy piece of cheese”

But, what will she end up ecountering on this bizarre quest. Find out next time i update this damn thing!

[blindrapture]

I will have to take pictures sometime, but WHILE I WAS AWAY I PICKED UP

an unlicensed Mario hat (red fisherman's hat, bunch of pictures of Mario on it. including Paper Mario!)

a plushie of Toad

a black baseball cap that says "The Big One," which was the name of the rollercoaster I rode that fucked me up. I feel like I conquered it, so I wanted a hat.

a new trilby! black, of course. :3

a photograph of me riding The Big One, face frozen in the clearest expression of fear I have ever mustered

a collection of writings by Jorge Luis Borges, titled Labyrinths! renewing my love for Borges, reminding me that he is my absolute favourite writer of short stories. I want more Borges. will have to get some sometime. (I have The Aleph, and Shakespeare's Memory. I used to have Fictions, don't know what happened to that copy.)

a collection of Lovecraft! because why not. in all this time, I've never actually owned a single book with Lovecraft in it. it doesn't have "Azathoth" in it, unfortunately, so obviously I'll have to look for a book that does. I like "Azathoth." I love that it is nothing like what the title suggests.

another copy of Ulysses. hardcover! the text inside is identical to the text of my softcover, even has the same Introduction, but that's fine! it's a smaller hardcover than my Big Beloved Blue hardcover! that is its value!!! it's a hardcover Ulysses I can just carry around with me!

there was a bookstore, a great bookstore, that had so many interesting books. it had a special little book that just contained the Inferno in it. it had a whole section for poetry!!! it had Ibsen's dramas!!! it had the Garth Marenghi book!!! it had hardcovers of Moby Dick!!! (though my hardcover of Moby Dick is absolute perfection, so I was okay with not picking that up.) I was annoyed to have run out of money, simply because I wanted to buy MORE BOOKS

[flowerbeddd]

Culmination

This is me. This is my Thought Cabinet. My biases on full display, the building blocks of this piece. This is me, naked with my skin peeled open, my chromosomes on record. It is the gripes I have with others, the parts of myself that I hate, it is the good parts of myself that come from horrible places. Read it. Look at me. Witness me. Rush towards Heaven, or succumb to Hell. We already lost. So let's rock this world.

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Different Playing Field

Problem: Ever since you were younger, you always thought there was something off with you. You didn't know when to speak in conversations, you would look down instead of up. Your eyes were too big. You were too smart for your age, but so unable to work. You were gifted, but you burnt out. Fast. You were a little adult, now you are an adult that is so little. There must be something deeper down, some reason for all of this. Because if not, then it just means you're just a weirdo with wasted potential.

Solution: You are autistic. There, that's your solution. If it wasn't obvious already.

Completion: -2 Savoir Faire (You feel so awkward around them), -3 Authority (like a child, waiting to speak), -6 Esprit De Corps (They never stop to let you talk), -4 Suggestion (If they did, your ideas would be too big to fit through your mouth), +2 Inland Empire (but you have amazing ideas, ideas that are wholly new), -3 Drama (and they would love to hear them). Learning cap on all INT and PSY is 14.

Transexual Underground

Problem: Maybe you should stop obsessing about other people's gender identities? Feels like it’s about time to do that. You’ve thought about this for, 9 years? Not only should you stop, you should tell Diego, Kyle, Hannan, that twinky girl in your class, and everyone else you’ve ever met that you've stopped obsessing about other people's gender identities too. I'm sure they'd appreciate it. 

Solution: You do not look because you are lost, because you need to connect with others in a way you can't with cisgender individuals, you do not look because you want to talk to someone about the transgender experience in college. It is not from something internal, it is not from wanting to share your unique experiences and unique perspectives with others, you simply want to know. And that is the worst thing, that you are simply just curious about how they see themselves within the framework of gender, of sex, you are just curious about what’s in their pants. You are not simply no better than a chaser, you are no better than a transphobe.

Completion: -2 Savoir Faire (they’re all looking at you the way that you look at them, searching for something to prove that you are different.), +2 Inland Empire (its EVERYONE!), -1 Visual Calculus (you’re starting with the solution, and working back from there.). You may ask people if they are transgender. It will go poorly.

Self-Appointed Protagonist Syndrome

Problem: You went to an Episcopalian school for 6 years, give-or-take. You went to catechism for what felt like longer. You read the bible, and it has stayed with you. You questioned the church, deep down, especially as you got older, you started to understand it. You were a reddit atheist as a child, but, once that cooled down, you started to accept and internalize that doctrine. After all, it was already encoded into your brain, from the media you consume, from the culture you exist in, from your family. So, how has it affected you?

Solution: You figured out that in this book, this strange piece of . . . art? It is political doctrine. Changed year-to-year to speak towards different messages for different times, a group of fables loosely bound together in paper and leather. There is barely a message. There are mixed signals, things that say “love thy neighbor” and at the same time “scorn thy neighbor”. Most of what people get out of it is what they want to see. Conspiritic thinking is what you call it, starting with the solution and then searching for evidence to prove it. If they read it and want to use it to prove bigotry, there is enough material there to prove it. If they read it and want to use it to prove we should love each other, there is enough material there to prove it. And you . . . you want to prove yourself. You see yourself as the second coming of Christ, as a gift to the world. Maybe not on the surface, maybe not for a few years, but it is still something you could be tricked into believing. Something you considered as a child. “Would you know if you were the next Innocence? I don’t think you would. You would have to live like you were, just in case”. Maybe it's better for the world, for everyone to think this, to think that they should be the example for the next thousand years, but God, it just shows you really are a narcissist.

Completion: +1 Inland Empire (Is this seriously something you believe?), +1 Empathy (It made you kind . . . even if you are an insane prophet), -1 Visual Calculus (There may be some logic here, but it is so disconnected from material reality)

Name Brand School

Problem: You failed. You failed out of Hopkins. You couldn’t get into Yale, no matter how much money you had, how much legacy supported you, how intelligent you were. You didn’t fail totally, you rode it out for a while, you survived. And that’s good. You didn’t throw all of your hopes and dreams away, it was just that your path was not at Hopkins. It’s okay, there's nothing wrong about it, it's simply a life different than the one you planned. And hey, you wouldn’t want to go to Hopkins or Yale with all those pretentious, stuck-up, incestuous, narcissistic, idiotic tech-bros searching for the next big Ponzi scheme. Then why are you still so caught up on it?

Solution: You tell yourself it's okay to soften the blow, that it's okay that you’re no longer there, part of that world. But that’s not what you want. You didn’t want to leave. You WANT to go back, you WANT to stay, you WANT to be part of the Wompty-Dompty Dom crowd, you WANT to prove your intelligence, all you need is a little more time and a little more effort. Yes, a degree is nice, but from ‘The University Of Hartford’? That gives you no street-cred in your circles. Everyday you think ‘What if it went differently? What if I was stronger?’. Oh my god. You still have trauma from leaving Hopkins, don’t you? You’re still that scared little child, focussing on regrets. Yeah, what if you make the wrong choice? Doesn’t it scare you? You look at your classmates, your peers, and you see future leaders, future stars. And what are you doing? Writing a manifesto no one will see? Failing out of a backwater University? All that work, all that pride, all that legacy, all that fate, all that potential: all for naught. There are two truths: the first is that it is okay. It is okay that you couldn’t stay there, that you couldn't get into Yale. Maybe you’ll do it in another life, maybe you won’t. But would you trade all the experiences you’ve had at Amity, at UHart, with all those true friends, true colleagues, true connections? Would you really exchange everything here for fake friendships and prestige? Now here's the second truth: You would. In a heartbeat. You're still that pretentious rich little snob, and you’re proud of it.

Completion: -2 Suggestion (pretentious wanker), Encyclopedia passives give +10XP and +2 real

General Intelligence And The Protestant Work Ethic

Problem: No one wants to work anymore. Capital has cut so many corners that the world is in scraps. It has damaged our culture, it has damaged our art. But no one cares. Why do they not care? Why do they not care that they have been watching shows dictated by market trends instead of artistic merit and Heart? Are they blind or is their Conceptualization truly that low? You read their work, and it too is slop. Mistakes. Without Heart. You could go on and on with adjectives about how shit it is. You can see they did not wish to write it well, they just wanted to get it done. There are interpolations and data-moshing in the script. From the slop they come, to the slop they return. You must prove you are different.

Solution: When capital first started, the protestants succeeded because they saw work as its reward. There is a 'General Intelligence,' a G-Factor that improves all intelligences. This is work, the ability to try your best at something and then use it to help things completely unrelated. Playing League helps you type, climbing helps your Anatomy and Physiology, reading helps you understand politics. They, your peers, do not know this. They rush through their projects with AI doing the grunt work as they watch a slop-show beaten to death by corporate interests. Copy, paste, plagiarize. Work is not a reward, work is punishment. We have lost our ability to work, our ability to walk the earth and savor the ground beneath our feet. But you, you have not. Maybe, maybe if you are skilled enough, your own 'Renaissance Man', you can show them the error of their ways.

Completion: -2 Interfacing (Technology is sin), Thoughts take *1.5 to complete, +1 to all Attributes if at least 6 thoughts took over 6 hours to complete.

The Game Master Frequency

Problem: There is something, an original piece of media that has affected everything. No, it is not the bible, it is not The Communist Manifesto, it is Dungeons and Dragons. The original game. A grand game, a language of a game, that has stretched so far it has evolved into new languages. And you, with too much Conceptualization, Encyclopedia, and time to learn, you are born of media. It is inside of you.

Solution: You wrote your own stat sheet to understand your biases better, because you thought it would be ‘fun’. You, yourself, are born from that game. The skills you have gained are directly because you decided to sit down on a Discord call with some friends and have fun. The way you teach others you learned because you had to teach your strange system. The way you improv is because you had to go off script. The way that you write is because you had to describe a scene so well that your players could imagine them in it, picture themselves there. You write with strong emotion because there is no other way to show the world. Parallel process. Skills from hanging out with friends at dusklight that you carry with you to this day. It helps you understand the world. Start with the movement you see when you enter the room, then what you hear, then what you feel (How does it affect you? Is there a shiver down your spine? Is the room cold, or are you afraid?), then what you smell, then what you taste. Bring it out, then bring it back in. Bring it in, then bring it back out. Understand the world. Show it to others. They are your players and you are their game master. Write something they will enjoy, write something they will love, write something grand that will teach them and stay with them forever.

Completion: +2 Shivers (feeling the room), +2 Conceptualization (describing the room)

In Another Life

Problem: In a world of Artificial Intelligence, it's hard for you to trust. This is literally 1984. The internet is dead. You are unsure if there is a real person behind that screen, behind that paper, behind that song, behind that piece of media. Simulacrum, AI, is built on lies. To find the truth, to protect yourself, to protect the institution of art itself, you must weaponize your Conceptualization. Look deep into the thesis, comb through the words, search for the interpolations. They are there if you look hard enough. There are signs, read it out loud, that’s not how it should sound, look at the mouth, see if it speaks like a real person would, look at the noises in the background, do they make sense? You have enough understanding to do the job, to look deep enough into the media. You can find it, figure out what is AI-generated slop and what is true, beautiful art. You simply need the right service weapon to finish the job. Here, let me help you. Let me show you how to punish those art-killing degenerates:

Solution: Derivative, boring, bland, would go well with a 'Made With AI!' sticker on the side of it, I can see the interpolations on the mouth that its viewers don't have enough eyesight to see, marvel-movie quality, perfect to sleep to, cowardly, beta, great for a first draft, belittled me, called me a slur, degrated me, the subtext told me that it didn't exist, that I shouldn't look underneath the hood, facistic, a facist could do a better, a centrist could do better, lacking in knowledge of politics, lacking in knowledge of psychology, lacking in the basic knowledge of what letters are in the alphabet and how to combine them to form words, brought me out back to shoot me, but forgot to bring a gun, betrays humanity, shitstain, would rather try to derive meaning from a literal shitstain, not bad enough to read ironically, ode to the instution of hate-filled, loveless, heterosexual marrige, should have used more effort, more Crypto-Conveyant Phenomina, uninspired, lack of Heart, designed to watch with half your brain, I may enjoy it if I had less than half a brain, revisionist, pedestrian, should be thrown out of all artistic institutions and shamed, this should be a way to teach how NOT to write, diluted variation of whatever half-bred idea it started out as. There, that is your arsenal. Use it without remorse.

Completion: -1 Hand/Eye Coordination (Your body rejects reality). Conceptualization passives heal +1 Morale and give +10XP

Male Socialization

Problem: You are a climbing instructor who cannot climb. You speak with people who don't trust your knowledge because of the flab on your stomach and arms. Women don't love you because you're ugly. Men don't speak to you because you don't have the same muscle they do. But it's not simply external. You want to get better at climbing, no? You want to look better, correct? You want to defend yourself from the creatures of the night? You know there are things, things that want to kill you. Words hurt, but so do punches, knives, and bullets. You know you can hit hard, but they can hit harder. You have to beat them. Now, how are you going to?

Solution: You are going to climb more, you are going to go to the gym more, you are going to run more, you are going to stop playing those stupid games in your room and you are going to stop lying in that fucking bed your entire life. This is what your father, and all the men that came before him taught you. All the time in the plains, needing to remain strong, provide for others. Your body proves your degeneracy, but it can also prove your worth. You want to change your worth? Start by changing your body. And isn’t it amazing that you have the best personal trainer, right there, inside your ears, always telling you you’ll never be enough? Coach Physical Instrument has got it all covered! You want it? Go and get it. Also, maybe cut down on those carbs.

Completion: -6 Endurance (Its healthy that the ex-bolemiac doesn't eat), +1 Half-Light (Let's use this thing), Learning cap on Physical Instrument raised by 3

Drugless Queer Art Student

Problem: You have a type. You want to talk to more artists, more intellectuals, more people who will stimulate those neurons in that little brain of yours. You want to talk to more women, or whatever the women who are artists call themselves nowadays, but there is a rift between you, something in the way. What is it? How is the way that they create different from the way that you do? Maybe if you understand that, you can get into their pants.

Solution: It is background. Background and self-expression. They create because of an internal drive to express themselves. They were born in a run-down town where the only thing to do for fun was drugs and art. Through drugs, they improve their art. You create because you wish to understand the world around you, how it impacts the self. You read, you consume other pieces of media to improve your art, and to express your high-end, renaissance life. One expresses the internal, the other expresses the external. You are both artists, you may use similar mediums, but you have different ways of honing your craft. Maybe you are the same. Maybe thought is all wrong (it probably is). But anyways, if you want to get with them, if you want to be in that crowd, you must prove you are an artist, show them your generosity, be one of them, and maybe, just maybe, one of them will buy it.

Completion: -6 Electrochemistry (Actually tired in high school), +1 Conceptualization (Artist, of a type), +7 Esprit de Corps with artists

The Wrong Job For The Right Person

Problem: It was the summer of '23, you were just out of high school. You have a job working as a camp counselor. The only camp counselor. With no support. You have experience, but not experience in this. Why did they hire you? Why do they keep you on? You love going up the wall, you love pushing yourself harder, but you know for a fact that you suck at it. V2 on a good day. You know you have trouble with kids, you have trouble with planning, you have trouble with everything. What are you doing here? Why do they keep you here? Why were you even here in the first place?

Solution: It was fate. Fate brought you to that gym. Your father was a climbing instructor, your mother was a teacher. You have experience working with queer kids, with autistic kids, with people of different cultures, with people who don't want to climb, with people who do. Life is chaos, and in that chaos, you found stability. It all feels right, like the last piece of the puzzle coming together. You did not choose the job, the job would have chosen you one way or another. There was a reason they hired you. No matter which road you went down, no matter which path you chose, you would have ended up there, ended up here. They will love you, they will hold you no matter what. Isn't that a comforting thought?

Completion: +1 Hand-Eye Coordination (Dyno, baby!), +1 Visual Calculus (You know the beta). +7 Esprit de Corps with climbers. +3 Savoir Faire with lesbians.

It’s A Precarious World. So Keep On Rockin'

Problem: You were beat. Hard. A combo that went on until the timer ran out, what felt like an hour of air juggling, and too many supers to count. How can they simply get back up after each round and continue fighting? It doesn't make sense. Does your ego not hurt?

Solution: No more bruises, no more blood. The announcer says his line. He doesn't give you a chance to even consider any other option. Your character gets up. It is simply that simple. The only way to keep going, is to keep going. You’re going to get up. You’re going to do it. Just keep on rockin'.

Completion: +1 Volition (The hourglass does not turn upside down on its own). You may retry Red Checks an additional time. +1 for each time you have failed a check.

“It all seemed so good, until you came along”

Problem: You’re in a family therapist’s office. He says the line, the line burned into your memory.

Solution: You tell yourself that you are a bad person, that you failed the entire world. Each thought here is a moment in time, trapped in amber paper, ones that you have laid out to prove your biases, your hatreds, your sin. Bring it out, then bring it back in. Start with the past, then work forward from there. Understand where the wheel was before, how we got here, then push it forwards. Different Playing Field is about autism, about how you felt ostracized from everyone at a young age, how you still feel that today, and about how it gives you a ‘unique perspective’. Name Brand School is about how you are still a pretentious anachronism filled with complex feelings of self-hatred and self-love, about how you have regrets about your life, and everything that flows from it. In Another Life is about how you’ll never be pleased with art, about your hatred of AI (a lot of this is about your hatred of AI). General Intelligence And The Protestant Work Ethic and The Game Master Frequency are about how amazing and cool you are for being able to write, about how it is your ‘gift to the world’, about how you got these skills, your tactics, your stylistic choices, about how you plan to utilize them in your war against Simulacrum. Male Socialization, Transexual Underground, and Drugless Queer Art Student are about your sexual insecurities, about your internalized classism, about your internalized transphobia, about all the little problems you have with how you view yourself, how others view you, how you view others, how you perceive how others are viewing you. The Wrong Job For The Right Person is about self-esteem, about how to deal with your self-esteem you believe in fate. Self-Appointed Protagonist Syndrome is about how you are “gifted” and it is your “gift” to heal the world, to save us all. I would say ‘God, you are so pretentious, there is so much back and forth, so much internalized struggle. You’re such a mentally-disturbed artist, a true Harry DuBois’ and continue from there. But here’s the thing: You’re normal. You tell yourself that you are an amazing person, truly one of the best, that you are a new creature, a never-before-seen organism with supranatural abilities. You tell yourself that you are the worst individual in history because of all the horrible harm and suffering you have caused because you could have done so much more, but haven’t. Because you had so many resources, so many people on your side, but you failed nonetheless. Because you squandered life’s gifts and because of this you have failed the entire world. Neither is true. You have your flaws, you have your vices, but you have worked through them. You continue to work through them. You are not the protagonist, you are not the antagonist. You are not a character. You are a human. You have your strengths, amazing strengths, but so do so many others. People. You are normal, average. Maybe slightly-above average, if you want to believe that, but so is everyone else. There is so much beauty when you walk, so many faces and people each with their own, unique, flawed, sinful, beautifully sparkling human soul.

Completion: +3 Volition (Life takes time), Your Health and Volition are the same stat.

We open in 201X. You sit in the bleachers of a pretentious school. A poet talks to you. He tells you that he picks up phrases as he moves through life and places them into a bag. When he doesn’t know what to write, when he doesn’t know the next line, he takes one out and uses the scrap to keep on going. You don’t know it then, but you are going to do the same in the future.

I am a communist.

There is no way for me to get around this.

I can use subtext, I can try to dance around it, nod at it, put it just below the surface enough that there is plausible deniability, but close enough that you can make out its image.

But I’m not a coward.

I know who I am.

And the person who I am,

is a communist.

The next question is why am I a communist. There are a few answers, none of which are that simple. 

When I was younger, I would say that I am a communist because of the school I went to, because I saw students trying their best to succeed in a system designed to fail them, to pit our time against us, to pit us against each other, and to pit us against ourselves. We were beautiful, intelligent stars being sacrificed on the altar that is our resume. Social life falls apart, club sports become jobs, writing is for a grade, there is no Love Of The Game.

RHETORIC [Medium: Success]- Intelligent youth overworking themselves, losing themselves in pursuit of better grades and better futures. Beautiful proletariat overworking themselves in pursuit of survival. It is a different context, but it is the same, shared, struggle.

I would say that I am the child of the Spanish Revolution, of Catalonia, that anarchy runs in my veins, written in the fissures of my brain speaking to my grandfather and looking at art from a young age. My heritage is understanding and revolt, of understanding the conventions of law, of society, of art, and asking: ‘Why do these need to exist, what purpose do they serve? Which must be retained, and which thrown back to the sea?’. With that understanding, revolting. Waves of nature and time and love and art and pain and suffering and consequence rise above the sea wall to snatch the rulers from their castle, thrusting them back into the primordium, tossing them away into the past. Pushing the wheel forward.

This is, partially, true. But it is also a fable I like to tell myself. We like to believe that life has meaning, that we are protagonists in some heroic journey, but we are not characters. The stars are not a map, they are giant balls of plasma falling, falling forever, falling through the cosmos along the rails made by other stars, by other dead stars. I did not die and get reborn as a communist, I did not have a revelation that turned me into a communist, communism is not my gift to the world, it is simply a byproduct of the socioeconomic, geopolitical moment I was born into.

But maybe they are a map. Maybe the way that the stars were affixed when I was born, the systems of economics and the cultural context I was born in does decide my fate. Maybe there is a journey written for me. I was born to an upper-middle class semi-liberal family. I enjoy games, I enjoy understanding the systems which make them run and how they affect the player. When my brain started functioning, once the machinery had been constructed and started to turn, it was only obvious that I would stumble across these ideas. It was preordained. It was fated. I was on YouTube during the time of political discourse, the time of Thought Slime and easy to access BreadTube video essays, a time when I could dip my toes into these ideas without having to fully read Marx, Kropotkin, Rand, or any other political theorist. When the pandemic broke, it was only logical that these were pieced together. More political unrest, more instability, more political figures failing, fascism, anti-semetism rising, capital failing itself, an increased understanding of political theory, class consciousness, and shared struggle. A state run by idiots and a people, a proletariat, who had intelligence. The reason that the system is failing is not simply because we need to replace the people in power, it is because of the design of capitalism. We are falling, falling forever, not because of some bug in the world, but because of how this world is designed. 

The goal of a company is to generate profit. Let’s say that you have two companies, A & B, both of which are competing for the same market. We can start out with both of the companies making a product that costs $5 to make and selling it for $10, turning a profit of $5. Now, let's say that company B wants to undercut the first by selling their product for $7, but they still want to make a $5 profit. They can reduce the labor cost to $2 by using worse materials, cutting safety regulations, all that sort of thing. Most nefarious of all, they can do this by cutting the wages of the workers: paying them less. This means that the workers have less spending power, they have less of an ability to choose the $10 option, forcing them to buy the $7 product. Great. Now you’re forcing the original, $10 product out of the market. You’re building brand loyalty. And once you have enough, you can start raising that price back up. Yes, it's $8 now, but that’s just because it's such a good product. I’ve used this product all my life, am I really going to stop buying it because it's an additional dollar? Maybe, if you really make it bad enough, people will have to buy it twice. There, you can cut the price to $5, $6, and still turn a crazy profit because they will have to buy two. What are they going to do, buy a different product? Company A is still selling that high-quality $10 product? Right?

Yes, and no. 

They may have tried to continue with that product, or they may have raised the price even more to try to convince you it's higher quality. A $10 product sold at $15 because it's just that good. But at the end of the day, all companies are company B. They all want to trick you, to squeeze as much money out of you as they can, to keep you subservient and coming back for more, begging for a taste of that sweet, simulacrum syrup.

RHETORIC [Challenging: Success]- Competition does not lead to making a better product, it leads to a race to the bottom, to make the worst product and sell it for as much as you can, all to line the pockets of shareholders.

You don’t believe me? You think that this system works?

Look up ‘forced obsolescence’, look at AI, look at inflation in all its various forms. Look at outsourcing labor, look at outsourcing costs, look at what we have done to the third-world. Look at climate change, at zoning laws, at the world that we are burning. Look at the trash piling up on the street, look into the eyes of the poor, look at the computer of a type that you are reading this on. Or maybe this is in paper, think about the paper. Think about deforestation.

SHIVERS [Medium: Success]- Think about when you were younger, first snowfall. The air was cool and crisp, your breath was steam rising from a dragon’s mouth. Think about skiing with your father, spending time with your mother and your dog by the fire. That beautiful cold is why you love Connecticut. Think about spring, a long February, a winter that never wants to let go, but who will let Persephone leave the kingdom and walk back home in the monsoons of March. It's October 22nd, 2024 and a hot, summer-like fall. You have to keep the AC running at night, or sleep in the nude to retain a sense of comfort. ‘I enjoy this weather to the cold’.

LOGIC [Medium: Success]- He must have low Logic, low Conceptualization, he must not be connected to The City. A warm Connecticut, a Connecticut that is balmy in the fall, means that Florida will sink into the ocean. More than it already is. It means that South America will flood. It means that Connecticut’s winters, its beautiful winters, will never return. It means our coastline, yes, Connecticut’s coastline, will fall into the water. Two weeks ago, it was winter. Where has that gone?

RHETORIC [Easy: Success]- The ruling class will kill nature. Our falls are short, a hasty gear-change from summer to winter. It is boiling hot one day, and freezing cold the next. Our winters are-

CONCEPTUALIZATION [Heroic: Success]- A strained face unable to cry. Cloudy skies and nights that whisper,

SHIVERS: ‘Snow is coming tomorrow’. But the clouds are barren. It is flowers, blooming in a hot flash, before dying with the frost the next day. It is animals with broken hibernations. You studied this, studied animal patterns in this state. We have eternal summer, a rising heat from the ground that will never let go. Can you smell the sulfur? Our planet is dying. They are damning us to hell.

Alright. You still with me? That's the why, now here's the what:

Fascism is about separating and compartmentalizing humanity. Breaking humanity into bits and killing the bits off slowly.

Capitalism cuts corners, makes a worse product and charges a million bucks for it. Capitalism has the same core as fascism, but instead of the state doing violence directly, capital outsources it. Yes, cops beat people to death, people rot in prison, immigrants are detained in detention facilities, but the mask is still on. Capitalism has plausible deniability. It is their choice to be beat, not our choice to beat them.

Centrism is nothing. It is cold comfort. It is ahistorical. It is capitalism that lies to you, tells you that this is ‘human nature’. It's where political theory goes to die. It’s ahistorical revisionism.

Communism . . . Communism is . . . 

RHETORIC [Medium: Success]- Failure. It's about failure. Yes! Abject failure. Total, irreversible defeat on all fronts! Absolutely vanquished, beaten, curb-stomped and pissed on — until *you* came along! *You* will reverse the fortune of the workers of the world. You alone, against every living thing, against every human alive: eight hundred trillion reál in the hands of an *impossibly* well organized ruling class; towering city blocks of bank-men who have the ears of prime ministers; million-headed armies of nations and the love of your own mother! You — against the atom, the charm and the spin. Where the whole world failed — matter failed to bend to human will; human will failed to get out of bed and tie its laces — you alone, single-handedly, will rebuild the dreams of the working class. You are The Last Communist. Now get to work, comrade.

We must move forward. We must try our best to build a new society, one where those who can work give to those who cannot. One where humanity, one where care is at the center of our society. One where people have agency, have democracy. One where those who cannot work are given aid and shown how to work. Life takes time, they will figure it out. They are human, we can trust them. We will figure it out. We must open our doors to the downtrodden, to the immigrants, instead of pushing them away. We are one humanity, we should treat ourselves with kindness. We must be good to nature, for we are nature. Yes, people are imperfect, yes the system will have flaws, but I would rather try and fail than not try and watch the world fail anyway. I was told to make this world a better place . . .

So let it begin with me.

RHETORIC [Formidable: Success]- Capitalism will continue to cut corners. It will cut corners in manufacturing, making a worse product, one that breaks, one that you are forced to buy despite how much you hate it. It will cut corners in nature, covering the world in trash and blaming you on you, outsourcing the job of caring for the natural environment unto the consumer, giving them the wonderful choice between a product which kills the environment, versus one that (supposedly) doesn’t kill it as much. It will cut corners in love, nurses overworked and running from one patient to the other, public health emergencies dealt with by the private sector, medicine a product to be bought and sold. We have come so far in the past hundred years. Our medicine is amazing, but we keep it locked behind a paywall because a dying man will do anything to live another day. It will cut corners in art, funds pushed down the drain, artificial “intelligence”, Simulacrum, big posters which cover nature: An ad for the military in the middle of your movie. A movie made to be a military ad. It will cut us down, slash this world into two, break it all to bits to extract a higher, an infinitely higher amount of profit. 

To be fair, I’m not entirely sure how we make this society. I think that having these ideals, these ideals of care, kindness, and humanity, and putting them into politics and praxis will make a better society, and a better world, even if it is not truly communist. My flavor of communist is anarcho-communist, because I believe that other communist projects have failed because they expected those at the top to retain communist ideology and implement it perfectly while benefiting from hierarchical systems at the same core of capitalist institutions. To explain more simply: other communist projects have failed because they were using poor organizational structures. Then again, how can we institute a government on a large scale without using larger organizational structures, ones where certain people are representatives of larger swaths of individuals? We can focus on making policies to minimize the harm that companies do, things like raising the minimum wage, setting the cost of products, environmental regulations, increased taxes on the wealthy, using those taxes to do something other than bombing the Middle East, making sure that our borders are-

ENDURANCE [Trivial: Failure]- But the immigrants are scary!

EMPATHY [Medium: Success]- It is our own fault. The United States has destroyed their nations in the name of profit. CIA assassinations. We pluck money straight from their pockets. We have removed their self-actualization and agency. We must repent.

LOGIC [Challenging: Success]- Immigrants don’t actually do many crimes, they are actually less likely to than individuals born here. Think about it, if you spent so much time, so much money, so much effort to get to this great nation, would you really commit a crime if it meant that all that work went for naught? And, if we have an easier immigration system, it is easier for us to check who is coming in. If it is easier to enter illegally than it is legally, then people will be more inclined to enter illegally. If we make the legal pathway easier, then we can check more people, make sure they aren’t actually scary, which again, the vast majority isn’t.

RHETORIC [Medium: Success]- The idea that immigrants cause crime is an idea perfectly crafted by think-tanks then placed into your head by capital to distract you from the one, true struggle. An idea to feed off of your insecurities, your fear, your hate, your flawed heuristics, your great, terrible country’s racism. We are supposed to grow, we are supposed to change, we are supposed to turn that wheel forward. We are not in high school, we are not here to laugh at people who look different than us while crying at ourselves in the mirror. We are one humanity, one proletariat. There is no difference between workers of Mexico, China, the United States, Palestine, Russia, anywhere else in the world. All are workers. There is no difference between a company which is owned in the United States versus one in another nation. They both want to fuck you over. It doesn’t matter if the person oppressing you looks like you, they are still oppressing you, they still think you aren’t the same as them, no matter how close you think you are to them. To the proletariat, the bourgeois are gods. To the bourgeois, the proletariat are dogs. Neither sees the other as human. If 0.000% of communism has been achieved, then the entire world is under the control of those evil, child-murdering billionaires and their shit-eating grins. If everything is capitalism, then everything is the same. One shared struggle. Workers. Owners. Money. No adjectives, no difference between a worker of another nation and a worker of ours. There are no nationalities required here. All the same spirit, all the same material.

EMPATHY [Medium: Success]- I wonder, why do people commit crime?

ENDURANCE [Trivial: Failure]- It is a stain on their soul, the mark of Cain. Something is fundamentally wrong with them, so they lash out at society.

RHETORIC [Challenging: Success]- No. It is because we have not cared enough for them. If you had a militarized police force, a militarized citizenship, and you still choose to commit a crime, then you must not have any other options. It is not the fault of the man for stealing bread, it is the fault of whoever made the only option be for him to steal it. We live in a surplus society, one where we can care for everyone. Even I can thank Capitalism for the creation of this technology, but we have it now. It’s time to feed the world, not starve it.

Look at this world. I have to argue against Great Replacement theory, I have to argue for empathy. This paper was written originally to express myself to a coworker, a coworker who (I fear) holds some of these beliefs. But I shouldn’t judge. I think that he’s a fundamentally good person, I actually think he's actually really cool. I just worry. Politics is about economics, but right under that, it’s about emotion. Love, conformity, greed, hate. There are forces of this world, systems in power and people wielding capital which seek to corrupt the love within our body. Conformity becomes love for the status quo, greed becomes love for progress, hate becomes love of one’s race. All different viewpoints for different people, different lies about reality. It’s 1984, not in the political sense, but in the social sense. Julia and Winston trusting O’Brien, saying something true to their heart, then him turning it against them. This is the anxiety I felt with adding Transexual Underground to this piece. It is a part of me, it is who I am. It’s something I can’t hide, no matter how hard I try. I want to put this all under the subtext. I still am putting it under the subtext because I’m a coward. I’m worried about the world, about telling it to someone and them going into Trans Panic, I’m worried about my medication and my friends wilting as we are turned to scapegoats and martyrs, but, honestly, what I’m worried about most is telling someone I trust and them looking at me in a different way for the rest of my life. I’m worried about telling it to a future partner, because what if that means our relationship can never go back to normal, that I’m always seen as some freak. “When would you tell your partner that you are a vampire?” I would never tell them. And I would worry every day that they found out.

SAVOIR FAIRE [Medium: Failure]- You were drunk. You sent her voice mails about how you loved her. You read them over, sober, and it was all subtext. You didn’t say anything. You still hid below the meaning, right between the lines. Even under the effects of alcohol, even without that shell, there is a second one. You’re too cautious. That’s why no one will ever love you.

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT [Medium: Success]- You gotta go all out. It’s about making a gambit and running with it. If you don’t try your best, if you don’t go all out, then you’ll lose either way. Break things. Break yourself to get what you want. The world is trying its best to break you. Break it before it can break you. Don’t melt in the world, find your own way.

I want to hide, but I can’t. I must accept it. This is who I am. This is the world we live in. It’s easy to sink away, to make the world out to be something that it isn’t. It’s easy to make the problems of the world simply because of immigrants, or a Jewish cabal, or aliens, or metaphysical changes, or the fault of individuals within the system instead of the system we live in. It’s easy to run away, it's hard to look at reality.

There is no easy solution. We will never achieve communism in my lifetime, I can just hope to create a world for my children, for the people who walk in my path, for the people in the next cycle, that sucks incrementally less for them. There is no heaven, only hell. A soft hell, dancing below your eyelids, bubbling up in your veins. It is the cognitive dissonance in your soul. You know it is there, but it hides so well. There is . . . plausible deniability. And Simulacra. So much Simulacra.

RHETORIC [Heroic: Success]- None of this is real.

You know you are caring, you know you are a kind person. When you see someone on the street, down on their luck, you feel a pull to help them. A car is broken down on the side of the road, you can help them. There is a pull to aid, but it is socially unacceptable. You have been taught to be afraid of them, to scorn thy neighbor. An experiment done just down the road proved this. 

SHIVERS [Medium: Success]- In an eternal city . . .

If you speak to them, they will keep coming back for more because they aren’t hard enough to pick themselves up by their bootstraps. Of course they’re going to come back for more! Of course they will! It's because they need help, specifically yours. 

ENCYCLOPEDIA [Challenging: Success]- ‘Why can not a man lift himself by pulling up on his bootstraps?’An old expression. A very old expression. It is supposed to be taken sarcastically. A man cannot ‘pick himself up by his own bootstraps’ no matter how hard he tries. 

I want to make sure you understand. Look at my skills, do you think I can use Suggestion to convince you of my ideas, do you think I can use Drama to lie? No. I must Conceptualize and use Rhetoric. Art and communism. Supertext and Subtext. Let me break down the options one more time, make sure that the supertext is as clear as a blue, winter sky:

Dive to the 9th layer. Turn the wheel back, as fast as you can. Betray your humanity. This world is a machine. It would be so much easier to let it keep running. You’re at the top, you can close your eyes. You will die last. Write propaganda, write more lies. You are not built on greed, you are built on Half-Light. Break all those who scare you, all who challenge you, uphold the status quo. Stay on top. (Opt Out)

Dive to the 4th layer. Turn the wheel back. Let greed consume you. You know that it will pull you down further, for you have you use war machines to crush those darn socialists in Villalobos, you have to crush competition, laissez faire, you have to use the police at home to crush the working class, you have to make your product worse to reduce costs, to cut corners, to hire children, to hire slaves, to cut the world down until there is nothing but barren desert and soil with no life. You will fall to the 9th layer, but not for a while. You will make a product, a product designed to be watched and consumed with half a brain. You will betray your humanity. But it will not be today, it is in the future. Don’t worry about it. Don’t worry about the world you are burning. (Opt Out)

Do not dive. Keep the wheel as it is, incrementally moving backwards, excited to jump and skip to 9. Stay where we are. These options are all stupid. Close your eyes and forget about these “political thoughts”. (Opt Out)

Rush towards Heaven, for there is nothing else to do. Turn the wheel forward. TURN THAT GODDAMN WHEEL FORWARD! You can feel your humanity deep inside, roaring to get out. You know something is wrong with society, you know there must be change, but you don’t know what to do. You are falling. We are all falling. We have no agency. It's always getting worse, always getting worse faster. Above you, there is the sun, the past. It feels so warm, but its warmth is fading. You look to the horizon, and it all feels the same. You look down, wishing for an end, for the ground to finally come. But it won’t. We’re falling. Falling forever. But we will flap our wings, no matter how fruitless it is. They said you had a mouth, they said you had a voice and political agency, but you can’t hear anything when you scream. It all just gets caught up in the wind. You must construct a tower as fast as you can, with crumbling support and hap-hazard railings. Pierce the heavens, break capital, kill the cop inside your head. Yes, you will fail, but it will be beautiful. Rush towards Heaven, or succumb to Hell. We already lost. So let's rock this world. (Opt In)

Great. You understand political theory now. Congratulations, it only took you your entire life to relearn basic human empathy. But that’s just the start. The purpose of this essay, of this manifesto, is to describe my visceral, primal, boiling hatred of “AI”. I haven’t done that yet. I laid the seeds, I set up the shot, now it's time to bring it home.

We were the only two real beings in a sea of the semi-real. A sea of hands with fingers that looked like cardiac muscle fusing and pulsing together. Words without Heart. To the layman, it may seem normal, but when you look at it for more than a moment you begin to realize: it's horrific. I told them reminded me why I never wanted to have kids, that something terrible would happen to the world. But, in the middle of that Pale, of simulacrum that would never challenge the status quo, that would never show you something new, something that you did not want to see, of fake-sex to run from human connection, of high-school anxieties of failure and misery, in perpetuating bias and incestuous machines, in the middle of a dead internet, I sat with them. They are my Dawn Of Revival. I wonder, maybe Crypto-Conveyant Phenomena is what destroys the Pale, not what creates it. If maybe, the act of creation, of pushing towards an enlightened, loved, fated Humanity is what lets us fight against the Pale. Maybe that is true communism. If I want to initiate the Dawn Of Revival. I want to destroy technology, I want to punch whoever runs Big Technology. And kick him. And castrate him. Each for different reasons. I want my hands to hit him so hard that I can feel the plastic under his face cracking, I want to watch that smile on his face break. I want to feel my leg in his stomach, feel the softness of his body, feel his muscle and bones, feel the desperation in his eyes. I want to castrate him, so that he may not have any more horrible spawn, that he may not treat women in the way that he does, that no one will follow in his footsteps ever again. Violence, unending violence. One CEO after the next, more rising the ranks all to be toppled down by my hands. One woman standing on a pile of broken bodies. They are impossibly strong, but the revolution is immortal. It is cathartic violence. And it never ends. It never ends because through all this violence we never end it. We are simply trimming the weeds, not plucking it out. And deep down, I tell myself, deep down even after all of the violence and hatred and destruction, they are still human like me. This is catharsis, a fantasy, but it is also a horrible, inhuman fantasy. Half-Light disguising itself as Rhetoric, Conceptualization, and Empathy. There are better options.

I stand alone on the stage. The curtains raise. I wanted to go last, because I know I will bring the house down. Within every artist, there is a little bit of narcissism. I play the fool ‘I’m not that good!’ but deep down, I know I’m the shit. I’m going to rock them.

But I rock them more than I imagined. Faces break with tears. Red eyes. I didn’t know I could do this with my words, I mean, I did, I just forgot. I’m going to increase the Conceptualization, go another level deeper. 2 weeks ago, but it seems like a little shy of two months. Two months of pining, of savoring those memories. You look into their eyes, for just a moment, and you can look past the simulacra into the person underneath.

It is 2024. I came back by chance. The phasing out has begun, slowly, and I am stressed from my life. I am stressed because I overwork myself, because I want to fix the world, but I forgot to take care of myself. I am stressed because I cannot cut corners, but I am trying to compete at the same level as those who do. Not that I can’t beat them, just that they care more about the quantity over the quality. I can feel Shivers talking to me, telling me where we are. We are in the middle of a burning world, on the middle of a continent of graves, in the middle of a nation-engine who is driving this planet to Hell, in the middle of a state which we both feel has the bubblings of fascism, of apathy, of fear deep in its blue soul. In the middle of the night, in the middle of an ancient city which I feel so disconnected from despite walking here my entire life, in the middle of a new city for them (qui transtulit sustinet), in the middle of a college that churns out Innocences (such an ironic name. Maybe, it is because they do not know their own faults. They are Innocent to their crimes, and so are we), in the middle of a high-school social circle filled with cheaters and narcissists, in the middle of dead-end relationships, in the middle of a coffee shop that we imagine is a painting, in the middle of a conversation, in the middle of their face, straddling their nose, I can see them. There is a spark. They are chivalrous. They pay for me, walk me back to their dorm. We discuss children, vampires, Magic The Gathering, relationships, future plans, then they walk me back, despite the night, despite that I am supposed to protect them, not the other way around. They are flipping the script, playing my role. They are a true gentlemen. A true citizen of the world. A true human being. Someone who is so far out of my league, so out of my level, but who I can look at in the eye nonetheless.

SAVOIR FAIRE [Easy: Success]- Easy, play it cool. Don’t fuck it up, lovergirl.

INLAND EMPIRE [Medium: Success]- We can be cool? Yeah, we’re super cool. Totally cool.

I must prove that I cannot simply do better than any machine, I must make the machine look like a fool.

Diego, here is why AI is bad.

If you ever manage to read this piece (which I don’t really want you to). Not simply glance over it with your eyes, but truly let the words seep into your soul. 

Don’t let me say the next line. Don’t force me to become a solipsist.

Firstoff, AI is bad for the environment. When I was checking resources, the google AI assistant said it itself. Funny. Reminds me of when Trudaeu went to a climate change rally, or something like that. Don’t think about it too much. BLOOM, a Large Language model, used the equivalent of 24.7 tonnes of CO2 to be created (estimating the carbon footprint of bloom). This is about a shitton of CO2eq (enough to power a home for about 16 years). Using AI to look something up uses a little less than 10 times as much energy as using google (Electricity 2024 - Analysis and forecast to 2026), at least if you don’t count Google’s new AI-whatever. This is a lot of energy. An obscene amount for no gain. This is a bombing of Revachol, just to let the Pale consume us.

HALF LIGHT [Medium: Success]- By the way, why are you so apathetic?

VOLITION [Godly: Success]- It doesn’t matter. And he isn’t. 

There is work, work that one must do to improve their craft. You think I came out of the womb writing like this? No. I learned how to type by playing League of Legends. I learned how to imagine by roleplaying on discord. I learned how to plan stories, to understand the flow of a piece from idea A to idea B by being a Dungeon Master. I learned commas, I learned periods, and I learned style. I learned voice through trial and error. There is no throughline, no class that can teach life. But, there are many classes that can, if you understand what I’m saying. These are skills I have stumbled upon and hobbled together to form the piece you are reading right now. It took me many classes to learn how to write, how to express myself, how to trap my emotion and voice in amber, how to understand what is going on in your head when you read, when you walk, when you think, when you speak, in all the little moments just before you play that next card. You are denying yourself this, denying your ability to have General Intelligence, denying your ability to improve in ways you could never imagine.

The models that AI is built on (and again, I am using the colloquial definition of AI) take pieces of work from artists without giving them compensation. If I remember correctly, you once said that non-Mexican people who own Mexican restaurants should have to pay a fine to Mexican people for using their culture, or something like that. AI is profiting off of artists without giving them compensation. Do you ever wonder why Dyani, why Jasper, why Wheatley, why Hannan, why I care so much about this? There is a line drawn in the sand: the artists versus the world. They are stealing art to try to undercut artists. Capital is taking our culture and using it to drive us out. This is why I say AI is sin. It is theft. It will send you to hell.

VOLITION: [Impossible: Failure]- Oh no . . . here it comes

HALF-LIGHT: [Easy: Success]- Say it. Conceptualization will love that. Kill him. Take some time for yourself and let ‘er rip. Rip. Him. Apart.

At the end of the day, what is the fucking point? You save what, maybe a generous second per sentence written by AI if you are actually going back and checking to make sure that what it said isn’t crap? You save a few extra minutes reading the snippet google gives you instead of reading an article? Are you actually willing to sacrifice the world so you can get a few extra minutes in your life? Are you willing to cause hurricanes and natural disasters to wipe out your Floridian, your Colombian family so you have a minute, or, let me be generous, an hour more of college per year? ‘I like this weather better.’ Idiot.

‘I want to have a playlist that is JUST AI songs’. Are you goading me, or do you just love the feeling of the Pale consuming you? Is your Conceptualization truly that low? Maybe you just can’t sense the Heart in a piece, so you don’t realize when it's gone. You don’t look deeper, so when there isn’t meaning, you don’t notice.

You want to know a dirty secret? Art is, by definition, simulacrum. I am making something up, I am not literally speaking to you right now. Now here’s another: I am. I am inside this piece, I am inside your head. Inside every piece of art, every word someone plucked from their world and experiences, every note someple played, every motion generated by your mouse and keys, there is a piece of someone. You are reconstructing them every time you consume it. You are finding them. This is Heart. This is why AI will never replace us, because they cannot replicate Heart. A large language model will never walk down the street and stumble on the perfect word, it will never be emotionally affected by something it read, it will never cry when it is trying to write its own stories. I could get ChatGPT to write a story like Disco Elysium, but it will never be as Disco as this. Because this is not simply a copy of Disco, this is me, talking to you, through the metaphors I enjoyed in Disco Elysium, from other metaphors from other games and experiences I have had throughout my life. It is a story being written, not simply a button being pressed. This is not from the ether, this is from my biased view of reality. There is a beating heart in the center of this page: and it is mine, bloodied and left on the paper. Writing is therapeutic, it is joyous. It is not supposed to be easy, it is supposed to feel like ripping your heart out and placing it onto the page. It hurts when you cry, it hurts on purpose. It is supposed to hurt so much, hurt so much showing it, explaining it to another person. But when that other person looks and says “There is blood, sweat, tears, and so many other bodily fluids on this piece of paper. I can see you in them. I can see myself in them. Everything you wrote, all that subtext and emotion and voice, I can see it inside here. And through this, I can see myself. I can understand you more through this piece, and because I can understand you more, I can also understand me.” it makes it so much more than worth it. 

There is something permeating modern society: the love of sleep, the love of nonexistence. I understand, you simply want to slip away into the Pale, into apathy, so that you don’t have to deal with the facts of reality. Some of us have to live in this reality, to see it. You have to live here too.

No. I don’t think it's that, I don’t think it’s simply a want to cut corners. I think you want to run away, I just don't think you've thought about it at all. At first, I thought this was different than apathy, but that's all it is. You don't want to care, you just want to push it all away and never think about why you feel so much pain, never look deeper into the cognitive dissonance between your ears. I’ve seen the way you read, the way you argue. When I said you argue like a Republican, I meant that as an insult. You don’t listen, you don’t want to listen. You just pretend you know what is going on and run with it. Mr. Vice President, the adults are speaking, so it's time for you to shut up and sit down. I think you simply don’t care. Apathy takes a certain amount of effort, a certain amount of effort to distance yourself from reality. I see you exert that work ethic every day when I talk to you, to not see the crystal clear solutions I hand-feed you. Yes, relearning empathy is hard, but your life will be harder if you don't. But you don’t want to. You just want to look at the people walking in commons and make fun of them, then look in the mirror and make fun of yourself. You don’t care about the quality of your work, you don’t care about the quality of your education, you don’t care about the consequences, you don’t care to put in the time, effort, thought, empathy, humanity into what you do: You just care that you didn’t have to work as hard. Have you ever realized that I always apologize first? It's because I care about you. Listen, I can improve myself, I can heal, I can learn from my mistakes and do better. I’m honestly not sure if you can, not because you can’t do it, but because I’m not sure that you want to. You say that you’re going to be more kind, so be more kind to me. Start with being kind to others. Turn the other cheek.

You know what? Fuck it. Here's what I've realized: Different Playing Field. I'm autistic. Sometimes, people (Type B) will want to hear what I say, look past how fucking weird I am at all times. "She's weird, but she's the goat". Other times, they won't bat an eye, will turn their gaze away from me. Maybe it's because of my autism, maybe it's because of something else, maybe I'm making it all up. But sometime in highschool, I realized that that second group of people (Type C) will always hate me no matter what I do, always look at me just to laugh, start with the assumption that I suck and look for anything that they can use to prove it. If it doesn't matter what I do, if they'll always see me that way, then why should I give them my thought or effort? They are wasting brainpower on me, why should I waste brainpower on them? And honestly, this is Guilty Gear. Every character in that game is autistic to a certain extent. Every story is about autism, about how finding yourself and knowing yourself gives you strength. There, that's why I love it so much, and that's why you think it's stupid. Because I can see myself in Sol, in Bridget, in Potemkin, in Ramlethal, in Elphelt, in Sin, in A.B.A, in I-No, in That Man, in Millia, in Chipp, in Slayer, in Venom, in Zato-1, in Bedman, in Dizzy, in Delilah. I could find something about every character in that game and tell you how I relate to them, about how looking at them and seeing the Heart within a piece. A piece that has given me confidence, community, and strength. One that told me that I am scorned by society but still beautiful, and that to love oneself gives one strength. I told this to Professor Alderette and she told me it was the best presentation she had ever seen. I would tell you the lyrics, the mantras, but you can find them yourself. I hope you're Type B, I really do, but, honestly, sometimes I think you're still type C, keeping me around not as an advisor, but as a jester. I play games with you, you don’t try playing games with me. “It’s too hard! I won’t understand it!”

After this piece was done, written while I am pruning it, I got excited. A very artistic moment. Two characters talking about choice, one saying you do have choice, that you can change things, and the other saying you can’t. Then, the game asks you to choose between “You can always choose” and “You always have a choice”. I got excited. I wanted to share it with him, to share it with you . . . but then I decided not to. I’m always inside my head, picking the next dialogue option, even if you don’t realize it. I think you do, your Reaction Speed is much higher than mine is, so I think that you can sense my pauses and hesitations. ‘Is it something from that game? Yeah.’ . . . ‘Why won’t you play it with David?’ ‘Because I want to play it with you.’ It sounded like the tape of a tape recorder slotting into place. I think it hit him then. ‘We can play it together sometime in the future.’ Change isn’t instant. In this world, it’s incremental. I want to believe that in that moment he has changed, that he has changed over the month, but I’m not sure. I don’t think he really has, or will. In 2039 he will still be running on high-school software.

I want to share my life with you. I don’t care that it's hard. If you cared, you would figure it out. I try so hard in my classes, in everything I do. I stay up late at night and you what? You ask me to give YOU time the next night, instead of letting me take some time for myself. I don’t care if it's hard for you to try my interests. If you truly cared for me, then you would. You know these are things I care about and you call them ‘stupid’. Last night, I told you you should drink water, that you were too drunk. You partied while I watched. A self-isolationist, a Deserter. You snapped some retort back at me, and it was then I realized how you worked. You are my lookout, the person who stands up for me, who tells me when other people are bullying me and I don’t realize it. The person who tells me that there is someone behind my back laughing. And the only way that you can do this is by hyperanalysing everyone we meet, looking for some break in them to prove your suspicion that they are trying to destroy your social life. It’s all self-defense, until you’re building a weapon. But you’ll never know where that lyric is from because you will never listen to Charli or Lorde, and then never listen to them the way that I do. You believe that everyone is out to get you, so you desperately have to get them first. You are afraid. You are not striking back at your enemies, standing your ground against a world that hates you, you are lashing out, turning your own insecurities against you. It is not simply that Sam enables you, you and Sam are the same. It is morning now. We are talking about last night. When I told you this that you hurt me, you made a cheap shot. You proved my point for me. ‘You said something stupid’ . . . ‘Like ‘Guilty Gear’ is a good game?’.

 I know I can do the same, but I’m trying to tone it down. You told me I need to learn to stop talking when I debate, so I took that to heart. Hell, I already learned that from ‘Different Playing Field’, I just forgot it because I felt so close to you. I need to put it into practice, read the dialogue options before I pick them. There's this idea: a web of care. I scratch your back, you scratch mine. I do your job, you do mine. If I help everyone without getting anything back, I will get burnt out and then the font will run dry. Then, you won’t receive help from me. You won’t have someone to realize how you are hurting yourself.

But maybe this is selfish, asking for things in return. Social ‘honor’. Maybe it's just my archetype. Maybe I just love life more than you do. I think that might be what it is, deep down, a want to stop existing. A want to crawl back into that primordial darkness. For the Pale to consume all. Yeah, life sucks. it probably sucks more for you than it does for me. But you know what we do, we dust ourselves off, we pick ourselves up, and we keep on rockin’.

HALF-LIGHT [Medium: Success]- That felt good, didn’t it? Now keep on going. You have more to say. 

You just told me you want to try to go to a frat. Really? Seriously? You’re looking for love in a frat? You’re looking for sex, and you’re going to be hurt sexually, emotionally, and you will end up with more social scars than you already do. Do you know who's going to have to comfort you, in the middle of the night, when you show up to my door drunk? It’s me. At the end of the day, I’de say it isn’t my choice. I’de say it's your personal choice to use AI or not. It's your life. But it really isn't. This isn't your life, make sure you emphasize that your. It’s shared between us, between all of humanity, between the rocks and the trees and the animals and the plants and the sky and the clouds and the water and the thoughts running in your head and the computer and the sticks and technology and life and death and heaven and hell and everyone and everything that will exist ever and everyone and everything that does not exist and everyone and everything that should be brought into existence. It’s a story.

It's a story that started when I lost an election. It started when I stood up during an orientation and they told me to join SGA. It started when I looked for colleges with my parents knowing I wanted to be a nurse, knowing I wanted to help people. It started before that, when I dropped out of Hopkins. It started before that, on a cold mountain where my memories fade and all I can feel is his hand on my breast. It started before that, as a child playing board games over and over with myself because I had no one to share them with. It started somewhen 20 years ago when each of us was born, and years beyond that when our parents first met. It started when factories and smog clouded up that sky, causing butterflies to adapt and change. It started when we discovered America, when the Spanish sent ships here; when I sent ships here. It started when we looked up to the stars. It started when we looked inside our bodies. It started when Romans conquered, rose and fell. It started ages beyond that, when your ancestors walked across the world just to end up here to truly discover America. It started with a great lie: that the anarchy, the art in my veins, it is stolen. It is not mine. It was smuggled and then grafted onto the self for a party trick, a joke. That the great men, the Picassos before me, were all horrible, pedophilic, narcissistic men. The fame and power went to their heads, and they were corrupted by it.

But that’s not where it started.  It started when the first building was built, when the first primordial human got an idea and when we got up and began to walk. It started when we walked out of the water, used our willpower to get out of bed and change the course of this planet’s history. It started when the first microscopic piece of life jolted awake. It started when water came to this planet. It started when the planet cooled down. It started so far back that we have trouble remembering which events happened first. It started with the sun, with the sun before the sun, with all the suns that came before the sun that we have now. It started with the metal in our bones, with the elements in our bodies. It started when, by chance, by hope, by willpower, by fate, by the unknown, matter came into existence. It started just before love was written into the universe. It started just after it all began.

And it never stops. It will never stop, not after we leave this university, not after we go our separate ways, not after I do whatever I do and when I burn out and when I reconsider and reconfigure and keep falling through my life. It will never stop, not after you do whatever you do, and you succeed in that. You are on television, you have all your wildest dreams, you are a household name. It will never stop, not after we fade away from each other's lives, not after we make peace with the other, not after we meet again with different faces and different names: It will never stop. It will never stop, not after we find love and our stories start to close, not after the people who follow in our cycles meet again, not after the sun begins to set on our lives, not after we realize that it is all over. And while our lives were going, it wasn’t stopping. Because it will never stop, not after the plains burn and the sea, filled with trash, rises to conquer the land. It will never stop, not after the third-world breaks and burns. 8,000 years of recorded history and 4.6 billion people, and we failed them all. It will never stop, not after we huddle in cities and in the memories of forests. It will never stop, not after the last non-human animal dies, not after we realize this planet can’t cradle us any further and make a rush towards the stars, for we can stop deforestation by going to Mars. It will never stop, not after this planet is devoid of life, not after it starts all over again, on the ruins of humanity. It will never stop, not after the cycle begins anew, a new form of life going back over our mistakes and following along the rails we constructed for them. It will never stop, not after the sun explodes and this planet is finally gone. it will never stop, not after our atoms are caught up in some other planet, in some other sun, in some other story and decide to do it all over again. It will never stop, not when our atoms finally break, when they decay into nothingness and the concept of light in the universe ends. It will never stop, because even after it ends, there will still be a ringing, still be a difference we made in the world. Light, there will always be light running away from us, the past running naked in the town, always somewhere out there. When it is all over, when it finally stops, the universe will be a painting, a story of our lives. And we will see that it never, really, stopped.

Heaven or Hell! Romeo F. Neumann and Chipp Zanuff From the Hit Game Guilty Gear XRD Revelator 2 Discuss Death, Reincarnation, and Such (Spoiler Alert: They Both Die in the End)

There was a glint of cold red light out there, on the other side of the lake. Maybe a machine from the house had a power light flickering on and off, refracted through the window of its room, or it was a mechanical light from Chipp’s phone reverberating off the sliding door to our porch behind me.

I turned to the phone, seeing if there was something red flashing on the screen, some bit of light that could be causing that disturbance all the way on the other side of the river. The only thing that was flashing was the videos flashing by. He scrolled quickly, judging each video on sight. Sometimes he would mutter to himself ‘Too long; I’ll watch that later.’ He clicked on a weird video of a modded fighting game. I watched as the superfluous sound effects and lights of the video filled the atmosphere. The game itself was one we both enjoyed. I enjoyed it in its base form, not adding any additional modifications. On Chipp’s PC he had added tons of mods to every part of the game, every character so that when you pressed a button a million bells and whistles went off. It was funny watching it all in motion, at least for the first few moments, until it degraded into something unrecognizable.

Below was a video called ‘Afterlife tier list.’

“Wait, I want to watch that one.”

“36 minutes? There’s got to be something shorter . . .”

“I really want to watch it. It’s going to be interesting.”

Chipp thought for a second, then clicked on the video. He put it on x2 speed.

I tried to catch what was going on in the video. “Do we continue to exist after the deatlh of the body? lets take a look. IYou die. thats it. nothing this is the most straightforward scenario. nbut to an extent its unavoidable. Is death bad? asdfkljhsadfkjhasdfujnawe lets say your best friend in the whole world asdflkjh fdsjkfsdalkfjhasdk jfor the rest of life sakjdfhsadkfjhsdaflkj habit now, i.l,ets say shtat insteafdalsjhkfkljadhfadfs.”

The guy mumbled so quickly it was hard to understand him. I could hear individual words, individual sentences getting crammed into my ears, but the concepts rushed by too quickly for me to truly understand them. As soon as one entered my brain, I had to pay attention to the next one coming down the pipeline.

As my attention waned from the video, it transitioned to the river Lethe swirled around my legs. I don’t think others saw it as clear as I did, but they could feel it. It is a thin, beautiful cloud, its tendrils pulling you away from the earth, tempting you towards your second death. I knew it had taken important things from me, I knew it had taken people and places and ideas from me, but I could never remember exactly what I had lost. The Lethe almost fully enveloped Chipp, his lanky form covered in clouds. He relished in it, the billowing steam coming off of him as he rushed through life, new experiences rushing in as the old evaporates off of him.

I turned back to his phone. He had gotten bored and was looking at shorter-form content. It was so easy for him to scroll from one to the next. A video would flash in front of him before he moved on to the next. Nothing ever stayed long enough for me to grab onto it. All of a sudden, a video came on about an Afterlife tier list. It was saying the same things as the previous one, just in a shorter form. Chipp was about to move to the next video.

“Wait, I still want to watch this. We didn’t finish the last one”

“That was because it was too long”

“Well this one is shorter.”

“You weren’t paying attention to the last one.”

“To be fair, you haven’t been paying attention to anything you have been watching.”

“I have! I just get the point of it before you do. I don’t have to see the entire thing to get what they’re saying.”

“What's the last video we watched?”

Chipp paused to think, trying to remember. I saw more of the river billow off of him, as if he had forgotten he was lost in thought. He turned back to the video. It seemed to be saying the same things as the other one, but without as much information. Things were cut out. I thought that it seemed more edited, mainly because of all of the lights and sounds that Chipp would like, but I’m not sure that's true. There was more stuff going on; it was faster, but there wasn’t as much heart put into it.

“That was pretty interesting,” Chipp admitted.

“Yeah, but I have more questions. I think there were more rankings in the other video.”

He started to grumble, not wanting to waste more time than necessary.

“It will take longer to argue with me and rewatch shorter videos than to simply watch the other one at a normal speed.”

Chipp continued to grumble, but complied nonetheless.

According to the video, Nietzsche asked in “The Gay Science” (Chipp laughed at the name): that if a demon came to you telling you you would repeat your life for an eternity, what would you do? It's not supposed to be an actual afterlife, just a thought experiment. Would you be content to live your life for eternity, or would it scare you. At the end of your life, what if, instead of dying, it all started once more? You died, then you were born again, not into a new body, but back into your own. The light at the end of the tunnel was not some God welcoming you to an afterlife, but a doctor preparing to hear that aggravating scream of life. 

“I think . . . Reincarnation sounds fun! I just like the idea of being able to experience life all over again.”

“What about heaven, that would let you experience more things.”

“But that's not as fun. Life isn’t fun without risk. This is what you don’t understand, Romeo, if there’s no risk, there's no reward. Danger makes it all the more fun.”

“I don’t think that's true.”

“Ok, ok, you’re into all this mythology stuff. What about that fat guy from that religion, the one about reincarnation and stuff. He lived in a palace and he didn’t like it so he went out and experienced life and it was a lot more fun for him and he loved it! That's your proof right there.”

“That's Buddhism and you’re wrong.”

“Ok, but I’m close enough!”

“No you’re not. You were wrong every step of the way. You misremembered and misunderstood the story so much its-

“Ok, fine, let's test it out.” He looked around the night and pointed to the red blinking light on the other side of the lake. “Wandering over there will be fun. There’s got to be something good over there.”

I didn’t want to go out into the woods. They were dark, and I didn’t think I needed any other reason than that to stay by the house. But, when Chipp perked up, spoke about leaving the sanctity of the cabin, the river Lethe seemed to let go of him.

It was strange, walking in darkness. My eyes searched the scene for movement, but the only movement was Chipp walking before me. The humid air tasted like pine, moss, and the wonderful smell of dew pooling under trees and nature, the taste that candlemakers and brewmasters alike try so hard to contain in their concoctions. Maybe it was Chipp’s natural gait, or maybe he simply moved quickly, but I noticed the ever-growing distance between us nonetheless. It was not that he was simply everso-slightly faster than me; it is that I stopped before I took every step, tentatively feeling the ground in front of me. Would my next foot touch a squelchy, slippery pile of leaves, warning me to be careful on their surface, or the hardness of a root, telling me in earnest that he will trip me when I move next? The smells of the lake wafted into my nose, amplifying the taste of the wood. It was a smell, not of nothingness, but of roundness, of a prepared canvas for the creatures of the deep to paint a picture of their lives. I heard Chipp laughing to himself as he tripped and slipped on the ground he refused to look at. My eyes adjusted and I could see the world in a blue light with my friend moving farther and farther away from me.

“So, what do you want to happen when you die?” Chipp asked, breaking the calm silence of the nightly ecosystem.

“I like the thought of reincarnation, but . . . ”

“But what?”

When I was younger, I wanted to be an embalmer. I thought working with the dead would bring me some sort of solace, that my fascination and fear of the beyond would somehow be quelled if I could grow accustomed to it. But when I saw a dead body, a truly dead body, I could only see how much the Lethe had waterlogged it, flushing their self away. It was a husk, a terrifying husk. There was nothing to be fascinated about, just the absolute horror of the end of a life. This experience, this question, led me to my response.

“Does it really matter? If you reincarnate, you wouldn’t be the same person. You wouldn’t remember being the same person. I understand the appeal, about being able to do it all over again, but I want to last. If you go to heaven or hell, you’ve left the world. If you die and come back, you get to stay in a familiar place, but you’re no longer the same person.”

“So you want to last? How are you going to do that?” Chipp asked inquisitively.

“I want to make an impact in the world, I want to make it so that even when I die, I will still be changing the world. If I can do something to change someone else's life, change their trajectory, it means I get to live through that new version of them.”

“What if you did something negative, something so atrocious that you forced the world to cave as a consequence of your actions? That would make you eternal.”

“Why would I want to do that? That’s stupid.”

We had almost reached the other side of the lake, and I could see that the blinking light was not a reverberation from the house, but instead a strange spacecraft. The blinking came from a cockpit filled with flashing red lights, all moving in sync. I started to feel dizzy, leaning on the side of a tree for support, its bark pressing patterns into the palm of my hand as my other covered my mouth, worried for what scream or substance would come out. The smells of the woods were cut by the smells of metal, a tinge in the air that playfully stabbed into my nose and throat. I heard angry words, cursing coming from inside the cockpit; Looking towards the noise, I saw that something was moving inside, something that looked like a man in sleek gold-plated armor. 

“Wow! This is SO COOL!!!!!” Chipp yelled like an idiot.

The man turned to us, his face covered by a helm. There were no eyes there, just insignia. He walked out of the ship.

“CREATURES! HATEFUL CREATURES! LIFE-PURGERS, YOUR SIN IS SO FAR BEYOND THE MERIT ALLOTTED TO YOUR KIND THAT YOU WOULD MAKE THE RULERS OF THE HEAVENS FLEE, THAT YOU WOULD MAKE THE SIMPLE GOAL OF GLORIOUS ETERNITY IMPOSSIBLE, YOUR SINS MAKE EVEN MAKE THE DEVIL CRY!”

The man continued yelling like this. Chipp looked to me with a wide, stupid smile on his face. I knew that he wanted to rush towards the man, to do something brash and stupid. I could barely hear my words over the the man yelling out his anger, but I looked to Chipp. My emotions took over me in a difficult to process blur, I was unsure of the exact words I said, the exact actions I took in the moment, but I know that I grabbed him by the face and told him life only comes to a person once. And then we kissed, but it didn’t stop him from running off filled with glee.

As Chipp ran out of the cover of the night-woods into the clearing of the ship, I jumped from behind the tree, staring as he left. I watched the blade of the metal creature rush towards Chipp and words, true words fell out of my mouth:

“Can you chill?”

They both stopped mid swing, pausing for a moment. I didn’t think it would be that easy. The man from the ship cooled off, his red coating turning into the previous soft metal blue.

“Yeah, sorry about that. I guess I just got annoyed, you know, ship breaking and all. I guess we all forget our humanity sometimes!”

He laughed, a strange metallic laugh. 

“I mean . . .” I paused, unsure what to say. “I can try to help you, if you so want.”

“Sure!” said the man. I imagined him smiling under the helm, but I wasn’t quite sure what it would look like exactly. I was quite unsure of his form, if the blue-gold plating surrounding his body was some type of armor for a very human body, if the armor was his body and he was a type of post-Human robot, or if maybe he was some sort of bug and this was his carapace. Nonetheless, he was built the same way we were, as if we were made in the same image.

Chipp and I wandered towards the ship, following the man. When we got in, he started spewing technobabble about how his ship operated and how we would have to fix it. I understood some of it, but not enough to convey. Chipps' eyes glazed over and he got on his phone. The man continued to ramble as the gears in my head slowly turned, trying to understand his words. It was hard to put them together, but the more I pieced the more it made sense.

“Um, this may be a dumb question, but have you tried cooling the Asphidelian transmission before turning it back on? I just think that may be a way to fix some of your issues.”

The man seemed dumbfounded, yelled out a curse and a fallacy, before doing it. The lights of the machine turned off, then the red was replaced by blue and purple. He gave us a thumbs up.

“Thank you guys so much! You’re the best mechanics on this realm!”

Chipp and I got out of the ship. The man inside the cockpit waved at us. I felt strange, a warm, complete feeling of contentment in my soul. The river Lethe was washing off of me, at least for the moment. I smiled at Chipp, trying to give him some of this feeling, but he seemed to still be distracted by something.

I heard the ship rumble before taking off, and in a burst of flames, it left the ground.

And then we died. I looked into Chipp's eyes just before the river took him, the only thing they told me was that he was unfulfilled. I felt the river swallowing me, but I still felt as if some part of my body was above water, as if I was leaving something behind on the Earth.

Bring it out, then bring it back in.

Alright. You got all that? I am an artist, I am a citizen of the world. When you use AI, you are slowly, bit-by-bit killing me. Think about the world you’re creating. This is why I wanted to play Oath, to give us that experience. But we never will.

When it's all said and done, when my fists are bloodied and my arms are shattered, skin more scar tissue than not, when your tongue runs out of your mouth, when you have no more bullets in your chamber, when Half-Light kicks in, we know who will betray the other. I will be standing there, bloodied, with a first-aid kit in hand and open arms, whereas you will turn your back towards me, cast me away forever, deem me unredeemable. That weapon, that high-school weapon turned against me. You are no better than Devonicka Powell.

DRAMA [Challenging: Failure]- If he wrote an essay about you, about how you treated him, how long do you think that would be? He said he wouldn’t be able to write a page. You said you could write 9. 44. This is currently 44 pages.

CONCEPTUALIZATION [Medium: Success]- No. This is different. There is a clear path towards redemption written in here.

DRAMA- Do you really believe that? Sire, you are lying.

Have you realized that I always apologize first?

SHIVERS [Formidable: Success]- I am dying. I am art and I am dying. Continue, speak about work, about cutting corners, about AI. Whatever. I don’t have time to speak in prose. It is the year 2000, you get a shiver in your spine that something will happen. 22 years, in less than 22 years, a shot will be fired. Not a shot from a gun, not a shot that rings out, but a cold phasing out. The death of art. The death of culture.The death of music that we have brought from campfires to the stage and then back to the ground. It will level all of me. All of me. So list all the organs, list all the senses, and say how each of them will slowly atrophy and fail. See how frantic I’m speaking? I don’t have time to turn my life into a . . . whatever the word is for art and communism. I’ve already wasted too much time. I have things to do.

VOLITION [Legendary: Success]- Calm down. You’re overworked. This isn’t you. You love Diego. This is why you wrote so much about him. You don’t want to break the relationship. Write your thesis, then move on.

Diego, if you ever read this, I want you to know, despite all the mean things I’ve said, despite how angry I’ve been at you, I truly love you. You’re a perfect foil, the Harry DuBois to my Kim Kitsuragi (or maybe we’re the other way around), the Ky Kiske to my Sol Badguy (or maybe we’re the other way around), the person who helps me understand social skills and social cues, the person who affirms my humanity, the person who challenges me, the person who has stayed with me, the person who works so well with me despite us being so different. I am stressed. I have ideas that manifest as little marbles in my head that I need to get out one way or another. You didn’t think that a relationship this long would have strain? I’m stressed from SGA, from my degree, from the world, from life, from work. I need to get it out. To a certain extent, you are an easy target. To a greater extent, you are a metaphor.

And to the greatest extent, I am a contrarian. I am someone who critiques, someone who questions, someone who will never accept perfection. I go back to old pieces when I have new ideas, as I am doing now. What I create must be as close to perfection as it can be, as close of a reflection of my current soul as it can. My writings must be perfect, for I too run on high-school software. I scour conversations, I remember conversations, I look at every fault I have, every fault this piece has. Every comma that could be changed, every word that could be changed, when a list should be 2, 3, or 5 topics long. It can never be good enough, I can never be good enough, you can never be good enough. I guess, I guess people aren’t characters. People aren't pieces of art. They’re people. To one extent, I shouldn’t have written this. I shouldn’t have indulged.

VOLITION [Legendary: Success]- To the other, this has been on your mind. You needed to let it out. This is you, your thoughts, everything. No holding back, no time constraints, unbridled creativity and Conceptualization. If you didn’t write this, it would break you.

And Diego, if you are reading this, if you are truly reading this, it is because I needed to share it with you. Because the strain was too much for me and for the relationship. It is a last resort at understanding, a hail mary; It is Hellfire. This was on my chest and I had to let it out, something was straining our relationship and if I didn’t let it out, we would bend so much we would break.

Alright. Time for the conclusion. Here’s what I think about AI:

It is bad for the environment,

It is bad for artists,

It is plagiarism,

It is sin,

Either it will get better, and it will slowly take your life away. Everything you do, automated. You will go back to your couch to enjoy a game, only to realize there are no more games, for there is no more art. You will never find a job, for you will no longer have a niche that AI cannot serve. Yes, AI can write, but can it write like this? Can it connect on a human level? No it can’t. Remember, it doesn’t have Heart. I’de dare it to try, but it's impossible. Each word here is handpicked, the perfect way to describe what I am feeling. This is why I write and re-write, because I better understand my thoughts, learn new words, think of new phrases. Art is alive, see how the pages rise and fall, how the computer hums? My heart is here. Art is bonsai. I come back to my pieces when I get new thoughts and I recontextualize. This is why I show it to others, to bounce ideas off of them, see how it affects them. Esprit De Corps. Understanding the initial event based on the outcome. I am the furnace of creation, a fission reaction in the largest of stars, an undying engine which never fully fits into the world around it, an unsatisfied, unfulfilled maw. Burning, heat rising off of my body. I am the fire within me. I am the antagonist and the protagonist, action and reaction, the writer and the audience. For I am understanding, I am Heart. I am the Culmination of 20 years of work and 3.7 billion years of trial and error to end up with me: Perfect imperfection. I am all the media I have consumed, all the people who have taught me, everyone who ever cared for me and ever believed in me. AI is not. AI is 22 years old, pretending to hold all of human knowledge. It is a lie. I personify it, other’s personify it, but it is dead and twitching, but it is twitching in a manner that's pleasing to you.

I was going to write a counterargument, that maybe there are things that AI can do. But even if you fixed the faults of the LLMs that it’s built on (which, let’s be honest, we never will), you still have the problem that it cannot choose its actions. A human can have an epiphany, can have a new idea and understand how to add it into their project, all from some random event that sparks a conflagration in their mind. An AI cannot. It is simply guessing what comes next, not choosing. An AI could never build a city, because it does not know what it's like to live in one, it can’t look at a blueprint and imagine walking down the street, it can’t think about the terrain, how walking uphill would affect you, how it would affect people with disabilities. It cannot have a drive, it cannot have Heart, it is not a furnace with an eternal desire to build something grand. When I walk around Yale, I see history on each of the buildings. A man who decided ‘This is my magnum opus’ and made something oh-so beautiful and strange. Look at the church-library, look at the mish-mash of streets, I see someone in them. I see her in them. And oh my god is it AI apathetic. I wonder why the most apathetic people in the world love AI. And those people are so biased. We will never be able to remove the bias from AI until we remove it from ourselves. And because all AI does is guess, it will guess with bias. One of the original faults, one which sticks with ChatGPT today, is how it deals with race in stories, how all those AI-image generations are incredibly biased with the things they make. If I wanted an ‘AI is actually good’ counter argument, it would be this: we could use AI to understand our biases better. But at what cost? At what worth? And at the end of the day, can’t we do the same thing just by looking in a mirror, or into the eyes of another person, or looking around us? It is still outsourcing, still cutting costs, still bullshit.

Or, AI will get worse. Inbreeding will make its answers useless, lawsuits will destroy it, break it until it is dead. Against all odds, art will win. And then you will be lost. The parts of your brain that relied on it have atrophied; an even lower Conceptualization than before. You will see that I was right. You will be lost, and I will cry for you. Simple as that.

There is more, but if you want to find that out, try reading this again. This is my preliminary apology. Me saying that I am sorry that this piece will hurt you, hoping it did a good enough job to hurt you, but hoping that you will take a closer look. Take a pen, take a red pen, and look deeper. If I did a good job, which my narcissism tells me I did, then there should barely be subtext. It's easy, it just requires your brain and a little bit of work.

It is 2021, or 2022. You have one more year at Amity Regional High School, or maybe you have two. You love your English class, you carry it. You will learn in the future that this class is not designed to teach, it is designed for you to interact with other students, to not be afraid of going to class. But that is the joy of it. No matter what you write, it will be met with flying colors. It is your first creative writing class, your first class before Mr. Rainey tells you that you need to focus more on the thesis, reign yourself in (a very important lesson that you have forgotten when writing this piece). You write something, a piece obviously about anarchy, and the slacking-senior tells you something that you only remember now, when working on the culmination of all those original pieces:

“I have never loved something [I have never been moved by something] I disagree with so much.”

[pashterlengkap]

Was Miss Universe’s first pageant under trans ownership a revolutionary night? Fans are mixed.

There were high hopes that this weekend’s 72nd Miss Universe pageant in El Salvador – the first one produced completely under a trans woman’s ownership – would signal a new era of inclusivity and empowerment for an event that’s long been mired in questions over its relevance in today’s society. But following a year-long cycle of drama, including sexual misconduct and rigging allegations, complaints of mental health impacts for contestants as well as revelations of financial woes days before the finale, it’s unclear whether that message really came through. Related: Nothing can destroy me: Trans tycoon Anne JKN is a hopeless romantic with a knack for making history The Miss Universe owner spoke with LGBTQ Nation about her traumatic childhood, her glorious transition, and juggling work and single motherhood. Miss Universe remains true to its identity as a classic beauty pageant, Hilary Levey Friedman, a sociologist, beauty pageant expert, and author of Here She Is: The Complicated Reign of the Beauty Pageant in America, told LGBTQ Nation. “It’s still a short interview, it’s still swimsuits, it’s still evening gowns. There’s not a new segment of the competition added… but the messaging is certainly more inclusive,” she said. Get the Daily Brief The news you care about, reported on by the people who care about you: Subscribe to our Newsletter The Miss Universe Organization (MUO) was founded in 1952 by a clothing company in California, designed to rival Miss America and champion female confidence. The yearly international beauty pageant has since had several owners, including former US president Donald Trump.  Fast forward a decade and despite claims the entire premise embodies the objectification of women, one of the world’s richest trans women, Anne Jakkaphong Jakrajutatip, decided MUO would be the feminist feather in her entrepreneurial cap. Jakrajutatip is a Thai media mogul whose company, JKN Global, umbrellas a range of beauty and beverage companies as well as three TV channels. At the end of 2022, it snapped up MUO from events company IMG for $20 million. Despite sharing that her company was in financial difficulty days before the finale, Jakrajutatip still opened the event explaining that Miss Universe’s mission is to empower women and that mission would be taken forward.  The televised pageant, which saw Sheynnis Palacios of Nicaragua crowned 2023’s Miss Universe, was one of the first opportunities to see Jakrajutatip’s intentions in action. And viewers say the pageant did indeed feel different.  “Transgender woman (Portugal) plus-sized (Nepal) mother (Colombia) and of course, Philippines in the Top 20!!!!!! Hello, inclusivity! Hello, Universe!!!!! #MissUniverse2023,” Filipino actress Jervi Li wrote on Twitter. Some praised it as the one of the “best editions” yet. Others said it had “lost the vision,” failed to implement better interview questions, and even accused the show of unfairly blocking Miss Philippines from placing in the top five in favor of Thailand. The most obvious change was the presence of a more progressive range of delegates. One of the first moves under Jakrajutatip’s leadership earlier in the year was to remove the ban against contestants being married, divorced, or mothers. Michelle Cohn as Miss Guatemala and Camila Avella of Colombia were the first mothers to compete. Avella made it to the top five finalists.  “I think that rule changes allowing more women to compete makes for a more welcoming environment for everyone,” Jakrajutatip, a mother of two herself, told LGBTQ Nation prior to the finale. The hosts this year were also all female while the event’s selection committee had a female majority. 2023’s iteration also marked the first time multiple trans delegates, Rikkie Kolle of the Netherlands and Marina Machete of Portugal, took part. The first transgender contestant, Angela Ponce competed in 2018’s Miss Universe representing Spain. All of this shows that there is greater… http://dlvr.it/SzLJ25

[chong02]

Week 5: Reality TV and Fandom in China 

Reality TV is a form of television programming that documents normal people in unscripted real-life situations, and often presented to the audience in an entertaining way. Reality TV has been dominant for the past 20 years, it attracts massive audiences because of its broad genre that includes dating programs, docusoaps, talent contests and celebrity-based programs (Murray and Ouellette 2009). In China, one of the Chinese online video platforms, iQIYI has produced a lot of reality TV shows, whereby some of them are reproductions of Korean reality TV shows. For example, Korea's Produce 101 series and Show Me the Money (SMTM) series are compared with the Youth with You series and the Rap of China series. Today, I'll be discussing about the impacts of the Youth with You series and its fandom towards the Chinese society. 

Youth with You is a reality group survival show where 100 trainees showcase their vocal, dancing and rap talents on stage, in order to debut in an idol group at the end of the show. There are currently a few mentors and trainees from the show who became famous in China's media industry, such as Lay Zhang, Cai Xukun and Fan Chengcheng. This show has been viral in China mainly because of the participants, their private lives have been amplified as their behaviour and emotions during training are recorded. Any drama or interesting facts in the show have led to the creation of digital publics on social media for people who seek for a sense of entertainment. Social media has created a new market and audience for the show, which increases the exposure of the reality stars and interactions with their fans. 

The show has a huge fandom because fans can interact with the participants, as the final debut group is decided based on the votes of the participants by their fans. Instead of being a consumer of the show, fans have a sense of participation as they can affect the outcome of the group. Participatory culture facilitates the forming of a group-identity for the fandom community, whereby fans can share information and their emotions among each other. With the emergence of the Internet and social media, fandoms are enlarged with fans from worldwide that neglects the limitations of time and space. 

However, this show has been suspended in China for its fandom's behavior. Mengniu, which was the biggest sponsor of the show, provided QR codes on their bottle caps, whereby fans can buy the bottled milk and vote for their favorite trainees. It started to be unethical when fans buy large amounts of the milk just for the votes, and disposing the milk into sewers afterwards (Ji & Zhang 2021). The show received complaints from the public and it was suspended immediately by the Beijing Municipal Radio and Television Bureau. After the incident, the Chinese government has published stringent guidelines towards celebrities to behave professionally and ethically in public. This shows that the Chinese government plays an authoritarian role that filters information and perpetuate their rule through censorship (Luo & Li 2022). 

In conclusion, Reality TV and fandom have a huge impact on society, and it is important to have positive values in the digital community. 

References

Ji, Y & Zhang, H 2021, Hit variety show suspended after competition causes tons of bottled milk to be wasted, Global Times, viewed 11 May 2023, <https://www.globaltimes.cn/page/202105/1222703.shtml#:~:text=The%20mechanism%20led%20young%20fans,April%2C%20which%20was%20widely%20criticized.>. 

Luo, Z & Li, M 2022, ‘Participatory censorship: How online fandom community facilitates authoritarian rule’, New media & society, SAGE Publications, London, England. 

Murray, S & Ouellette, L 2009, Reality TV: Remaking Television Culture, NYU Press, JSTOR. 

[butterfliesonthewall]

Ooh, these are really good. (Prepare for one answer to be ridiculously long, though; sorry.)

I'm not sure I'm a fan of any of the games it'd be very "controversial" to like, but I guess CLK is the most qualified?

GTH.

WAC, and ideally I would have made one, and only one of the twins the culprit, specifically Kim, and I'll get to why momentarily. But I just found the original culprit choice to be not an interesting one, with solid but otherwise very basic motives. However, the potential for drama in making just one of the twins the Black Cat? My headcanon is this: Kim and Rachel are identical enough that hardly anyone, save those who are observant like Nancy, can tell them apart. Like a lot of twins, they've probably spent their whole lives being treated as a "matched set," which can lead to feelings of insecurities around being one's own person and being on equal level with one another. Naturally it irked Kim when her double got accepted into Waverly but she didn't, making her feel inferior. This is not helped when she has to go around school hiding her identity and sleeping in the walls, feeling even more erased as everyone addresses her by her twin's name. Itching for some form of individuality, she subconsciously develops the habit of tucking her hair back behind her ear, instead of just letting it hang the way Rachel always does. Finally, Kim gets sick and can't attend class one day, so Rachel goes in her stead and botches the grade, ruining their chances at the scholarship, and that completely tears it for Kim. She's desperate now to find some way to both distinguish herself from her twin, who is now viewed as a "failure," a thought that chafes Kim every time someone calls her Rachel, and take out the remaining competition. Kim blackmails Corine to leave the notes, because GASP Nancy's own roommate is helping the culprit? She even has Corine leave a note for Rachel so as to keep her twin from getting suspicious. During the final sequence, Nancy confronts Kim over what she's done to her fellow classmates, and Kim erupts about how they all deserved what they'd gotten because of how much they'd picked on both her and her sister. She bemoans that all of her efforts were ultimately for nothing, though, because even if she took out all the competition the scholarship would still be in Rachel's name only. She then muses that, inevitably, once she's left Nancy to her doom, she'll have to find some way to take Rachel out as well so she can assume her place and claim the scholarship. Nancy tries to reason with her, pointing out that the reason they wanted the scholarship in the first place was so the sisters could stay together, but Kim is beyond listening, too filled with months, maybe even years of resentment towards her twin, and strikes anyway: stealing the book and fleeing the scene. Thanks for coming to my TED Talk.

Renate from CAP. The fact that you do snoop through her stuff in that game, and getting caught results in such an unsettling, abrupt cut to the Game Over sequence... shudders.

SSH. This game has a more linear playthrough than most of the early entries in the series, and personally I find it very easy to get stuck and not know what I'm supposed to do next. I can't imagine how many hours running back and forth to the hotel to call Bess and George for hints has added to my total playtime.

MHM.

Gotta go B, but it was a hard pick between B and C.

Getting eaten by the plant in CUR. Top notch comedy.

That Shorty, a criminal with lackeys and full capacity for murder, was just casually sharing the same lodgings as normal people like the Rawleys, the other ranch hands, Nancy, and if it hadn't been for the foul weather delaying their flight: Bess and George, too. They were all sleeping under the same roof as someone who would've been totally down to kill all of them in the name of treasure, if dealing with the homicide charges afterwards wouldn't have been an issue.

I'm autistic, so probably Nancy.

TMB. It's always the one I can be counted on to forget.

Nope. No clue how to fix the problem, either; it's tangled in there pretty deep. Can't go with her being a real ghost because that's just not the kind of universe these games have been building so far, but at the same time: gods if I'm not sick of watching them stretch for explanations way more convoluted than it just being an actual ghost.

No. None thoughts, because thinking about it hurts.

Deep hurting. Deep hurting.

Yes, I believe in a variety of spiritual phenomena.

Scopa.

Dinner.

This is a blog that believes in Loulou superiority.

SAW.

TRT.

Francy.

CLK. It's got its problems, but I don't think it's the worst in the series by any means.

DED. I find it boring and confusing, and Ryan annoys me. There, I said it.

CRE. Trying to remember what even is the plot is like trying to recall a fever dream.

MHM. I'm not saying it's impossible for ghosts to do those things, but one or two of those are absolutely impossible for Louis or even Abby to do, and they clearly want to favor a logical, material world explanation rather than a ghostly one, so...

Lori Gerard literally being willing to resort to murder for positive publicity.

What happened to Bob after Shorty ran him off. It's the best mystery because it's STILL UNSOLVED.

Anywhere in Blackmoor Manor at night.

Via traumatic brain injury, thanks to a rough game of fetch with a killer whale.

Frass-sorting. No, I'm not joking.

SPY.

I honestly can't think of any games I want to both erase AND combine together.

I always assumed it was her magnifying glass, but a part of me likes to think it was her own mugshot, just to be petty.

Absolutely not.

5 hours of games with Jane; at least there's some variety there.

Necklace-making.

CRE. It just kinda... stops.

Mitch Dillon from the original SCK.

Mitch Dillon from the SCK remaster.

ICE. On a totally unrelated note, who was responsible for the ice floe minigame? I just wanna talk.

ND themed ask game with (hopefully) more rare questions

Most controversial game you like

Most controversial game you don’t like 

If you could change the culprit of a game, what game would you pick and you would you make the culprit be?

Character you least want to catch you snooping in their stuff

Game that takes you the longest to play

Game you can finish the fastest

Choose a phone contract: a) Ned  b) Frank & Joe  c) Bess & George

Favourite second chance

Something you find scary in an ND game that people don’t talk about

Character you are most similar to

Most utterly mediocre game that you have very little opinion about 

Do you like the explanation of the ghost in GTH? If no, what would you rather the explanation have been?

Have you played MID? if so, thoughts?

Thoughts on Fox & Geese?

Do you believe in ghosts?

Favourite non-food related mini game?

Favourite meal to make in ICE?

Loulou or Coucou?

Favourite ND soundtrack?

TRT or MHM?

Francy, Nedcy, or neither?

Most underrated game

Most overrated game

Most confusing plot

Least realistic game

Most stupid motive

Best mystery

Favourite place to snoop (I.e. dwayne’s office, brenda’s van, etc)

Favourite way to stop a culprit

Favourite chore

LIE or SPY?

If you had to get rid of one game and instead combine it with another one, which games would you combine and why?

What did Nancy put in the time capsule in ASH?

Would you Vote 4 Holt?

Would you rather be sentenced to 5 hours of snowball fights with Freddie (ICE) or 5 hours of games with Jane (CUR)?

Fishing or necklace-making? (CRE)

Most disappointing ending

Most pointless/irrelevant (in person) character

Most pointless/irrelevant phone contact?

In which game do you have to use the most second chances?

[korpikorppi]

The Untamed costumes extra:

Waist ornaments

We all know the beautiful, tasseled ornaments the Twin Jades wear hanging from their belts:

So, I thought an extra costume post looking at these and other waist ornaments seen in the Untamed might be called for.

Various kinds of waist ornaments, yaopei, have tradionally been worn with hanfu. The long tasseled jade waist pendants often seen in historical c-drama (and in the Untamed), are the type of yaopei called jinbu that were originally worn to hold down the hanfu skirts; @ziseviolet who runs an amazing blog on hanfu has this excellent post that provides more information.

So, in addition to the esteemed Lan brothers, who else wears a jinbu in the Untamed? Let's start with... him.

Jin Guangshan is wearing what to me looks like the most traditional style of jinbu among those seen in the Untamed. It comprises a carved nefrite jade (hetian jade?) piece that looks like it might be a variation of double dragon head huang (the lower picture is a piece from Han Dynasty era, shamelessly stolen from the net). From the jade are hanging three pendants of various yellow gemstones, perhaps yellow topaz and amber?, each adorned with a golden yellow tassel.

And we have more Jins wearing jinbu. No, not Jin Zixuan, who actually dresses rather modestly to be called a Peacock, but his half-brother.

Chief Cultivator Jin Guangyao wears not one but two identical waist ornaments hanging from his jade-decorated belt. The pieces comprise tassels of the same yellow as Jin Guangshan's, and beads of silver and various gemstones in red (ruby or garnet?), yellow (topaz?) and dark gray (that's a tough one... translucent black jade?), but I have not managed to find a good close-up shot of them. Do you know how many in-focus below-the-waist close-ups the are in the Untamed? Not bloody nearly many enough! Also, a little side note here! I have been watching the Monarch Industry / Rebel Princess, and just noticed that Emperor Ma Zitan wears rather similar double waist ornaments with one of his outfits. So this is probably a specific style of jinbu?

And we have Jin Ling, who wears the Jiang Clarity Bell hanging from his waist (the only one seen to wear it thus in the Untamed).

Jin Ling's waist ornament is quite interesting, because in addition to the small silver bells (two instead of one) it has two carved Bodhi Root beads (one depicting a lotus bud), a carved lotus pendant in what looks like white nephrite jade, and pale yellow double tassels with silver caps; identical to the ornament Jiang Yanli drops onto a stone, breaking the jade pendant, while waiting for news from Lotus Pier after the Wen attack.

So, do all Jiang Clarity Bells have the same construction? Are they all identical? It doesn't seem to be the case: at least the one Jiang Yanli gives to Wei Wuxian in Yiling before her wedding is different, with a different kind of large lotus bead:

So it seems that the waist ornament Jin Ling wears is the one that belonged to his mother, with the broken jade pendant repaired or, perhaps more likely, carved anew at some point before Jiang Yanli's death. If that is the case, Jin Ling has something from both of his parents: his father's sword and his mother's clarity bell. I do not remember if that was mentioned to be the case in the novel?

Talking about Jiang Yanli, she is the only woman in the Untamed seen wearing a jinbu. This takes place during the Phoenix Mountain hunt and when she stays at Jinlintai afterwards, and both her outfit and the jinbu are clearly Jin in style.

The jinbu comprises various silver beads together with a red, a yellow and a dark grey gemstone bead (similar combination as later worn by Jin Guangyao) and what seems to be a flower of some kind (not a peony, though), also in silver. And the Jin-yellow tassel.

Let's get back to the jinbu that the esteemed Lan brothers wear, which are quite distinctive. In addition to the two jade rings, they have some additional beads in silver and gemstones, and a long tassel.

The jade rings in Lan Wangji's jinbu are, I think, the finest white mutton fat hetian nephrite. Zooming in on the left image, it seems that the rings are not smooth, but might actually have carvings on them. If that is the case I'm guessing it could be a cloud motif of some kind, perhaps something similar as on the jade rings in the bottom image (again, found in the net). The additional gemstones seem to be either blue or colourless, perhaps topaz and aquamarine. The tassel is grey, similar to the tassel on Bichen.

Lan Xichen's jinbu has jade rings of what seems like translucent moss-in-snow type of jadeite, similar to the bangle in the bottom right image. Similar to Lan Wangji, Lan Xichen has additional silver as well as blue and clear gemstone beads in his jinbu, including a rather large blue stone above his tassel. It also seems there is a reddish bead, close to the top (seen in the uppermost image). Lan Xichen's tassel is very dark blue, nearly black, a similar shade as also found in Shuoyue's and Liebing's tassels.

In addition to the Twin Jades, Lan Qiren also wears a jinbu, but his is somewhat different from those worn by his nephews: instead of the distinctive two jade rings, Lan Qiren's jinbu has a large, flat medallion of white, carved nephrite jade and a decorative chinese knot. Unfortunately, I was not able to find any clear close-up shots of either one, so I'm not able to say anything more precise about them... If I come across any later, I'll update this.

The additional beads in the Grandmaster's jinbu are quite small, and seem to be rather dark (blue?) in colour, but it is quite impossible to see what stone they might be made of (lapis lazuli might be one option). The tassel of his jinbu is also grey, or perhaps bluish grey.

To end this, I should perhaps point out that even if I've made the assumption that the additional beads would be gemstones, I've understood glass beads were also traditionally used, so coloured glass might also be a feasible option, also in-universe.

But what would I give for a few clear closeups!

[weclassybouquetfun]

THE DARK KNIGHT still has G.O.A.T status but THE BATMAN is pretty excellent. After Christopher Nolan's Dark Knight trilogy someone pointed out that to them his trilogy wasn't a comic book film. Instead they were gritty dramas no different than Michael Mann's "Heat" or Curtis Hanson's "L.A. Confidential". Matt Reeves takes the same grounded sensibilities with THE BATMAN but instead of giving crime noir, he's giving us a thriller. This is David Fincher's "Se7en" or "Zodiac" or ("Forget it, Jake. It's) "Chinatown".

Just ignore the cap and cowl and envision Bruce in a trench coat. While the film does tap into comics' history, this is a true detective film (not, like, "True Detective" the HBO series that screwed the pooch in the second series.). This film put the "detective" back in "Detective Comics". Matt Reeves was the perfect choice to tackle this film- just look at his work with "Dawn of the Planet of the Apes" and "War for the Planet of the Apes".

He took a film series that was beloved despite it being ridiculous and instead of copying the original set of films as Tim Burton had with his 2001 adaptation. Instead Reeves brought real world sensibilities to the film so that audiences wouldn't laugh at the idea of apes on horseback with guns, instead leaving audiences to see the universal reaction of an oppressed class fighting back. It's inescapable for this film to not be compared to other Batman films and Robert Pattinson to other Batmans, but with 82 years of story there's a Batman for everyone's taste and whether it's in-canon or an elseworld, it's all valid so people should keep an open mind if this Batman doesn't feel like *their* Batman; especially considering this film retains the basic element that makes Batman Batman: Posho with dead parents who is emotionally scarred and dresses like a Bat. SPOILERS like Stephanie Brown.

THE GOOD

- He has a face like a parking meter and I couldn't get past one "Twilight" but I have always given Robert Pattinson credit where credit is due. He's a great actor. He spends so much time in the cowl so he has to rely on eye-acting but his eyes tells so much, the way he holds himself in some scenes just conveys the weight that Bruce is carrying. In making him a new-ish crimefighter (he's been Batman for two years) this film gives a chance to see that this Batman is still an extension of Bruce, whereas in other characterizations where he's older he has clearly divorced Bruce Wayne from himself and only dons him as a disguise while Batman is his true identity. He is still close to his childhood pain that it is always just lurking next to him despite the distance he has tried to put from it. This gives the character room to grow. - The Bat and the Cat. Chemistry through the roof (with the convenient skylight).

It's very subtle how he reacts to her. He's still self-assured but there is a pull that he's resisting. This resistance isn't a Tim Drake type of resistance where he turns his back on romantic entanglements because he's too focused on the job. This resistance is just he's in unknown territory with her. Someone who is not Alfred that he can share this part of himself with? Selina thought he was joking when she asked him what's under the suit and he told her he's "horribly scarred". He was being 100% honest. Which brings me to Alfred.

-In the scheme of things Andy Serkis' Alfred had very little to do in this 2 hour and 56 minute film but everything he did count and served to give insight on him and his relationship with Bruce. First off, not just SAS, but SAS working with MI6 (his reference to working with The Circus). I like that this depiction he was a guardian but not a father figure. Though I ankled "Gotham" in S2, there was a similar vibe with that Alfred and Bruce. The very first episode when Bruce's parents are killed Alfred collects him from Crime Alley and after hugging him tells him, "Don't look. Eyes front, don't let them see you cry." Maybe a child who just saw his parents get murked in front of him deserves a good cry without worrying about onlookers. I can see THE BATMAN's Alfred being the same way. He can't handle big emotions and he loves, but it's distantly and that has left him with a Bruce who has adapted that as a way of keeping possible hurt at bay and has also employed that type of love towards Alfred. Total aside: Serkis' son Louis was great in the recent ITV mini-series NO RETURN playing a teenage boy arrested while in holiday in Turkey for the accused sexual assault of another teen boy.

-Influences: a bit of "Zero Year" (the flooding of Gotham), Earth-One, Year One,a bit of "Gates of Gotham" (the Edward Elliott mention, with a brief shout out to "Hush", Elliott's great-great grandson; a bound at the feet Oswald having to waddle around. When the film opens on Halloween I thought we were actually getting "The Long Halloween", but this is close enough. -Since I hated Max and Charlie Carver's characters on DESPARATE HOUSEWIVES, I loved each time their characters got beat up in this.

-It's not surprising that Paul Dano can play deliciously unhinged. Just see THERE WILL BE BLOOD or PRISONERS for proof of that.

I get people wanted to see him don the classic Riddler onesie or something that alludes to his classic look

but that's too camp for the character as it exists right now. Love that like The Joker Nashton does not know who is underneath the cape and cowl but knows that Batman is the truest expression of whoever he is.

-Shaking up the mythos. Like Uncle Ben dying and Krypton blowing up, Thomas and Martha Wayne must always meet their fate in Crime Alley. But I love that they gave more insight into them. While Martha has always just been boiled down to a broken string of pearl necklace, Thomas has had a meatier second life in comics. I love that they fleshed them out more in this in a way that makes perfect sense. Martha with mental issues?! A Thomas who momentarily adapts the behaviour of criminals and hires Falcone to strong arm Edward Elliott? Good stuff.

THE BAD -The whole hot potato over who killed Thomas and Martha Wayne was a bit clunky. "So it was Maroni? So it was Falcone? So it was really Maroni?" I'm glad it's still open-ended. It's like the origin story of The Joker -it's whatever you deem the truth to be. THE OTHER -I cannot stand Peter Sarsgaard so I am amazed this film made him tolerable. Maybe it was easier seeing him because I knew he would meet a horrible fate. But he was quite good. -I was hoping that Jay Lycurgo would turn up again. I thought the film focused too much on him and his hesitancy in joining in with the gang to assault that man, as well as him stepping in to keep Bruce from being shot to just have him ending up being a random character. But it is too much to hope for that he would be a sidekick in the future film as he's already Tim Drake in TITANS.

-Barry Keoghan. It was reported that Keoghan was cast as Gordon's partner. Several months ago it was reported that after test screenings Keoghan's role was going to be cut. Then it was reported that he was actually playing The Joker. While the film never comes out and says that "Unnamed Arkham Prisoner" Matt Reeves confirmed he was. He also confirmed that he cut an earlier scene between Keoghan and Pattinson where Bruce, in trying to figure out the identity of The Riddler, decides to profile another serial killer: Unnamed Arkham Prisoner who is not yet The Joker. -I love that Gotham is not the only place bombed out and depleted. The Wayne Terminus and tower is a mess! It's so fitting! It's like families who come from old money that is long gone but they still have their ancestral homes that they want to retain but just can't afford the upkeep. The difference is Bruce can afford the upkeep but as he tells Alfred he only cares about his name in regards to how it will help his parents' legacy. He's not interested in keeping up appearances. Which is obvious because his wardrobe is busted. And not the expensive busted like Yeezy clothes. The actual "I'm still wearing this Gap shirt from 2004 that is stretched out from when I pulled it over my knees as I rocked back and forth crying while thinking about my dead parents" busted. -Colin Farrell was unrecognizable.

The only time you get any sense that it's Farrell is when he's shouting while being chased by The Batman. Other than that nothing - not the eyes, not the voice to that point, gives him away. He did a great job but I don't see his HBO Max Penguin series being very interesting. If it was about his battle between Falcone, yes (and how great was John Turturro?) but just him and the Iceberg Lounge, etc. etc? No bueno. -Is it any wonder Bruce (depending on which canon) forms the JLA? Man just had to stand there and watch Gotham get flooded. Wally and Clark on hand would never let that happen. I can see him after getting the brakes beaten off him for the umpteenth time just deciding, "You know...I need a couple of aliens. I need an Amazonian. Is there someone who can run really fast? Yeah, Imma need that too. I need whatever Hawkman has going on. Someone with a magic ring? Yes, please. Magic wielders? That too. An archer isn't helpful, but it's good to have another mere mortal on hand to share in getting beaten....spread them out a bit more evenly because this is a bit too much for me."

But I like he goes out as an army of one. And how smart is he to have a cut out in his body armor so he can give himself adrenaline shots? So smart.

[thebibliomancer]

Essential Avengers: Avengers #126: All the Sounds and Sights of Death!

August, 1974

The shit is that on Iron Man’s face.

Is that a nose?

Is that a blush on his metal cheeks?

Oh. Er. Also: cover is misleading as hell but its still cool. I like Klaw asking where Black Panther is when T’Challa is close enough to give him a noogie.

Of course the actual events would make a better cover because it is ridiculous.

At least there’s a ridiculous splash page as a consolation prize. And its only half made up instead of entirely bullshit.

So we start on a gorgeous day that Swordsman is spending beating up robots trying to prove to Mantis that he’s a cool badass kind of guy. Because he worries her attention is drifting towards the Vision.

And he may be right? She stares right at Vision while she’s kissing Swordsman.

These two need couple counseling but this is the Avengers so that probably doesn’t exist.

Meanwhile, Scarlet Witch is also paranoid about losing her love. She feels outclassed by Mantis. That Vision may prefer her. And also that all the arguments they’ve had have been her fault?

Also I guess this is officially the death of my hope that Mantis and Wanda would be bffsies. They started so well!

Anyway, instead of crying like a romance heroine apparently would, she’s going to fight for her love. Because she’s an Avenger, dangit!

Also check out this picture Vision gave Wanda. That’s the Spockiest glare I’ve ever seen. I know you’re not photogenic, Vision, but you could have tried. That’s a bedside love photo. She’s going to look over and see your smouldering glare.

Meanwhile, its not just the weird love rectangle of Vision, Mantis, Scarlet Witch, and Swordsman that are feeling drama.

Downstairs, Captain America has just told Thor and nosy Iron Man that he’s quitting being Captain America. Thor tries to talk (or yell, really) him out of it but Cap insists on being left alone to think.

Iron Man tells him to give Cap some space. See, all of America is disillusioned by the Watergate scandal Secret Empire thing but Cap more than most.

Also meanwhile, even Black Panther is feeling the drama. He’s been receiving telegrams from Wakanda passive aggressively inquiring how long he’ll be gone this time.

One gets the impression that Black Panther doesn’t leave anyone in charge when he leaves anymore. Since they end up being supervillains or dead. So they really want him to come back and actually rule them.

But Black Panther feels himself torn between the Avengers and his responsibility to Wakanda. The Lion God taught him that evil may strike anywhere and the Avengers would have been screwed if they hadn’t had his help during the Troglodyte Caper.

And then Ronald Sherling, ambassador of Rudyarda shows up. Rudyarda is basically South Africa. Apartheid and the whole deal. Named after Rudyard Kipling for some reason. Rudyarda also borders Wakanda, at least at this time and threw Black Panther in jail once for being black without a license.

The Fantastic Two helped bust him out. This was in Fantastic Four #119, which appears relevant to this issue.

Anyway, Ambassador Sherling refuses to shake a black man’s hand and demands the Avengers help him. Black Panther finds the man exceptionally distasteful but summons the Avengers with a Blue Summons.

Iron Man and Thor are still busy watching Cap brood so they ignore the summons. That still gets you Swordsman, Mantis, Scarlet Witch, and Vision. In addition to Black Panther its a good group.

With some Avengers available, Sherling reveals that the Rudyarda Embassy staff have been receiving death threats and that the gardener was found burned to a cinder. So clearly, they need Avenger protection.

Vision promises that the Avengers will investigate but when they go outside they are captured with a loud ZZAAPP that attracts the Cap watch to come outside and see this ridiculousness:

Ambassador Sherling and the Avengers trapped in a bubble of pure sound (???) with another bubble on top containing Solarr, MAN OF SUN POWERS, while a giant laughing Klaw, MASTER OF SOUND, stands by.

Oh and apparently artist Dave Cockrum drew himself in a cameo as Shocked Bystander.

Also also: a narrative box points out the absurdity of Klaw teaming up with Solarr when they’ve never met before but invites readers to submit plausible ways they got together. The best answer could receive a coveted no-prize.

Since Marvel Unlimited doesn’t reproduce the letters page, I’ll never know why Solarr and Klaw were teamed up. Alas.

Anyway, Thor immediately tries to hammer giant Klaw but its just a sound hologram (???) with the real Klaw hiding somewhere else. The bubbled Avengers are his hostages to see that his demands be met.

What are his demands? Some context: the Rudyardans beat the shit out of Klaw and threw him in jail after he was taken down by the Thing in Fantastic Four #119.

And, get this:

Klaw: “If you think they treat black people badly -- consider the plight of the man who is red!”

I have no doubt that the assholes of Rudyarda would treat an aboriginal person poorly. But you, Ulysses ‘Wore Muttonchops and a pith helmet and was the son of a Nazi war criminal’ Klaw really do not get to talk.

Anyway, now he wants revenge on Rudyarda. But before that, he wants diplomatic immunity like the cool kids (Dr. Doom, Namor) and to get diplomatic immunity he wants to become the dictator of Wakanda.

So here’s his demands: T’Challa to abdicate the throne of Wakanda in favor of Klaw or else Solarr will start killing hostages.

And to prove he’s super serious he blasts the ambassadors with his heat rays. T'Challa has an hour to meet Klaw’s demands or one of the women will be next.

Vision immediately rushes over to check on the ambassador. He still has a faint but steady heartbeat so he’s alive. But without medical attention...

But Wanda has something she wants to try. Her hex power alters probability so what if she used it to make the ambassador not dead?

And hey, it works! The ambassador regains consciousness.

But no time to dwell on Wanda getting better with her powers. They have to burst Klaw’s bubble, in multiple senses of the word.

But it remains sturdy no matter what the Avengers throw at it. Its apparently been specially designed so that only Solarr’s sunbursts can pass through. Also light, since you can see through it. But not Vision’s Solar Beam. Somehow...

Iron Man and Thor try to dig under the bubble but nope. The bubble goes all the way underneath too.

Wanda decides, hey, she disrupted that alien force field in space that one time. Maybe she can do that again here.

Mantis’ empathy with nature senses detect that it will be useless.

Wanda tries but it was useless.

Vision suggests that maybe Wanda should have rested longer after literally saving a life but she blows up at him.

Scarlet Witch: “That’s right! Stand up for Mantis! Only talk to me when I’m wrong!”

Ambassador Sherling tells T’Challa that he should surrender his throne to save them all but specifically him.

T’Challa refuses.

Now based on his experience, Klaw should be in a twenty-block radius to control his solidified sound so well. And it just so happens that Iron Man has audio-analects at his Long Island plant that should be just what they need.

Also, it seems a large crowd has gathered to watch this bubble drama. The Marvel public...

Iron Man, Thor, and Cap all scan using the audio-analects within the twenty-block radius to try to find a sound signature that matches the one from the bubble. With twelve minutes left in the countdown they get a matched reading off First Avenue. But all they find is a trap! SOUND PANTHERS!

Turns out that sound panthers are no match for a guy in a flying tank with a nose, a god, and a super-soldier. They beat up the sound panthers.

But now there are nine minutes and there’s no further leads.

Back at the bubble, Ambassador Sherling is again yelling at Black Panther and at the Avengers.

Ambassador Sherling: “You surely can’t let us die on the whim of a black man!”

Vision tells him to chillax and mentions to Wanda that maybe he should talk with Black Panther, see how he’s holding up.

But Wanda thinks that maybe Vision should talk to her. She might die in eight minutes and she doesn’t want to die without knowing the truth about what’s between Vision and Mantis.

Vision insists that there’s nothing to know and that he was just as amazed at Swordsman’s outburst during the Thanos War as she was. And frankly he’s amazed at her outburst now.

But Wanda isn’t done. Isn’t Mantis his type? If he felt love once for one woman, why not twice for another?

Vision doesn’t have a type, he says. (He later develops one and goes on a date with Carol Danvers) But now Wanda is saying maybe he would like to have a type because that’s what human males do and he wishes he were human!

Vision is going to have to cut her off there. They do need to have a discussion later but right now, Wanda is apparently not in the mood to listen, only to talk. His words. Paraphrased.

Here’s how desperate Vision is to get out of this conversation.

Thor returns saying “Alas, Avengers, we bring bad tidings!” and the caption box says “Just then, fortunately--.”

Relationship drama. Apparently imminent death is preferable to it??

Anyway, Thor reports that they couldn’t find Klaw anywhere within the twenty block radius.

And then Black Panther epiphanies. 

He also disarms Ambassador Sherling.

Surprise, Sherling was really Klaw in disguise! His briefcase clutching hand was really a false hand concealing Klaw’s sonic device. That’s why Sherling never dropped the briefcase, not even while injured.

Klaw is flummoxed. He has never expected the Avengers to unmask him what with faking an assault on himself.

Which means you have to wonder how much he panicked when Wanda ‘healed’ him. I get the impression that he intended to play gravely injured the whole time so he didn’t have to stay in character but then Wanda messed up that plan accidentally.

Anyway, while all the Avengers just watch from off-panel without helping, Black Panther and Klaw have a little scrum which ends when T’Challa SOCKO!s Klaw and then smashes his briefcase, reasoning that it was secretly a hidden power source for the sound bubbles.

He guessed right.

Which leaves Solarr standing in midair. And then falling to konk himself out on the pavement. Gravity is a harsh mistress.

T’Challa explains to the other Avengers that his big clue was that Klaw in disguise as Sherling made too much of a big deal of not shaking his hand. That made him start thinking about Sherling never letting go of his briefcase. That plus if Klaw wasn’t anywhere else in the twenty-block radius that left one place they didn’t search. Plus, right when T’Challa was thinking about returning home, this douche shows up and starts insulting him. T’Challa took it for an omen. And it kinda was!

So with the dangers Wakanda is facing, T’Challa requests a leave of absence to actually go and do some kinging.

And because its not an Avengers issue unless it ends with someone brooding, the issue ends with Cap musing on the kinship he feels with T’Challa and how just as he is leaving the Avengers, so must Cap.

Which presumably leads into Cap becoming Nomad. With that scandalously dipping neckline and the cape.

Except that’s in Cap’s book. In Avengers, we need to take a detour into Giant-Size Avengers #1 before we attend a wedding.

Oh, and regarding the nose thing. Around this time in Marvel, Stan Lee was barely involved with the comics anymore. He’d stop by every now and again to look at some upcoming issues. He saw an Iron Man cover and asked either “Where’s the nose?” or “Shouldn’t there be a nose?” What he meant was that Iron Man’s helmeted head was drawn so small it didn’t look like a nose would fit under the faceplate.

What everyone took it as was Stan Lee saying that the helmet should have a nose.

So for a while, Iron Man’s helmet had a nose. A year later, Stan Lee happened to see another Iron Man cover and wondered why Iron Man’s helmet had a nose. And thus it was written out.

The moral of the story is either ‘ask clarifying questions’ or ‘look at your dang product more often, Stan.’

Or so the legend goes.

Hey, you should follow @essential-avengers. I’ve been cleaning up and reposting older posts from this liveblog. More pictures. Too many pictures. Plus, a new old post every weekday until I get caught up. And then I’ll start primarily posting these liveblog posts from there.

[sil-and-seals-blog-something]

(Don’t worry, I’ve only sought out and read spoilers for AGIT-)

Danny just messing with everyone is great. Vlad might get convinced that it has something to do with Danny’s black lantern ring though (side note. Black Lantern rings are charged whenever ANYONE in the corp kills someone {if my info source is correct}. Energy left over from death basically. Which, that sounds a lot like ectoplasm. Ectoplasm, as far as I’m aware, can be a by product of death. I’m also pretty sure that Danny emits ectoplasm. So, he’s just charging his own ring without killing, me thinks)-

Goodness, Danny just full on committing to the bit that Amorpho gave him must be making Amorpho so so proud-

I just imagine that some of those not in the know know assume that Billy Fathom is Danny’s way of releasing his frustrations from his identities as Fenton and Phantom. Also, I would like to note that, when I first read Fathom, I just assumed that you combined Fenton and Phantom with some letter reshuffling and mixing (and Fathom and Fenton have the same amount of letters-).

-I truly love Johnny being the only one not freaking out from the start because he straight up cannot see the difference between red and green + Danny not acting different until everyone gave him a prompt to do so. I just imagine Johnny eventually asking Danny why everyone is acting like Danny is close to snapping-

I love the dramatic setup with Billy Fathom’s name and appearance. Billy is just Danny’s over the top, dramatic, theatrical persona. Anyone who thought that Danny’s other two identities were dramatic would just dread meeting Billy “Amorpho’s My Teacher and DRAMA is My Middle Name, Yes in All Caps” Fathom.

What would make the shenanigans even funnier is if, somehow, Amorpho and Billy Fathom became accidental mercenaries, making Billy Fathom to Danny what Matches Malones is to Bruce.

(Edit- I meant to put this down before posting, but brain is what brain is. A good place to learn random stuff about DC is thepandaredd on YouTube and TikTok and other platforms that I don’t remember)

DP x DC prompt #78

There's a reason why the black lantern ring turns all who encounter it into mindless, crazed zombies. It's because the black lantern ring wasn't designed for living people, it was designed for ghosts. Enter Danny Fenton, the newest member of the Black Lantern Corps.