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ironyscleverer · 26 days ago

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Doctor Who as a Post-Colonial Metaphor

Recently I've been thinking a lot about how beautifully Doctor Who reflects the state of post-colonial British identity, and tumblr seems like the appropriate place to share my ramblings. So let’s see if I can explain in a way that makes sense.

I must start by putting on my obnoxious little film degree hat and reminding everyone that sci-fi is one of those genres that is highly political (as most things are, but scifi even moreso). It turns out it's pretty easy to get a sense of people's fears and anxieties by asking them to envision the future, and that's what sci-fi media does; it uses contemporary cultural standards and ideas to create a vision of what futuristic/advanced science and technology might look like, and how people might respond to it. In doing so, it ends up taking the social and political temperature of the time and place in which it's created.

As such, it's very, very common for scholars to analyze sci-fi media through this lens; even Frankenstein, arguably the first science fiction novel ever written, is often interpreted as reflecting cultural fears regarding swiftly advancing science and technology during the early stages of the industrial revolution. The Day The Earth Stood Still (1951) is another great, very blatant example of how sci-fi and politics can interact. In this movie, a Jesus-like alien ascends to Earth during the Cold War to warn the human race about their imminent nuclear annihilation. It seems corny to us now, but it's actually a great movie and I would highly reccomend it. It's rumored that the US Department of Defense read the script and Did Not Like It because the themes were too anti-war.

In other words, despite often being viewed as too “pop,” too goofy, and too unserious to have any deep meaning, pretty much any scifi story can be analyzed within an inch of its life using a meta social/political lens. It's not the only way to interpret sci-fi, but it's by far the most common. One must simply ask, “what does this vision of science, technology, and/or the future say about us as we are now?”

But anyway. Doctor Who. Disclaimer: I haven't watched the classic series so I'll focus on 2005 onward (still post-colonial so it still holds up, lol). If you've seen Classic and you'd like to chip in, please do.

Genre-wise, Doctor Who is more-or-less a space-western, a subgenre of sci-fi that incorporates Western elements—exploring new frontiers, engaging with unfamiliar civilizations, rogue figures, etc. Star Trek is the peak example of this, but there are many, many others.

Of course, the Western genre is dripping with colonialism due to its historical setting of the American West, and the racist depictions of Indigenous peoples. Space-westerns, consequently, also tend to address colonial topics. Sometimes space westerns are just as racist as normal westerns, but sometimes they use the genre reflexively, to question colonial ideals. A more progressive space-western might be more willing to “humanize” the alien cultures they meet, asking questions like, "how does one ethically engage with foreign societies?" or "When is it appropriate to intervene in a conflict?" etc.

Althought these kinds of questions come up regularly in Doctor Who, especially regarding its anti-war messaging (Time War etc.). These themes become doubly interesting when you use them to inform your interpretation of The Doctor, both as a character and as a symbol.

Consider this: The Doctor is the embodiment of an ancient and immensely powerful being with a bloody history. Their kill-count is quite literally somewhere in the quadrillions. Although they are a self-proclaimed pacifist, they are still constantly a perpetrator of death and destruction throughout the series. The Doctor, despite repeatedly and loudly choosing peace, can never seem to keep their hands clean of chaos and suffering. Doctor Who is about an entity that destroys everything they touch, sometimes on purpose, sometimes not. As an allegory for grappling with the legacy of British imperialism, I'd say it's pretty on the nose.

In this sense, not only is Doctor Who a show about colonialism, it is also a show about identity in the wake of colonialism. It's even in the name: "Doctor Who?" Who is the Doctor? What is their responsibility to the universe? What does it mean to be ancient and powerful and drenched in the blood of millions? How do they move on, become better, without falling into the same traps? What does it mean to be British?

These questions come up over and over throughout the new series, from the destruction of Gallifrey, to the Timelord Victorious, to A Good Man Goes to War, the Flux (arguably), and many, many other smaller plotlines I could mention. Even in the latest series with Ncuti Gatwa, the focus on adoption and family is in a similar vein—where does the Doctor come from? What does it even mean to be “from” a place? How much do your origins truly contribute to who you are and who you become?

How the companions fall within this framework is also interesting; if the Doctor is a stand-in for the nation as an entity, then the Doctor's companion, the everyday British person, is the stand-in for the populace. The companions are ever-changing, ever-evolving, constantly renegotiating their relationship with the Doctor. The companion's ultimate challenge is to find how they fit into the narrative of the Doctor's life, and try their best to come out the other end with a happy ending (ha).

Of course, Doctor Who is owned by the BBC, meaning it is quite literally nationally subsudized TV. As a result, althought the show is actually VERY critical in some places, the Doctor is usually ultimately sympathetic; their good intentions tend to forgive a lot of the problems they've caused. The companion is usually charmed by the Doctors' seemingly endless tragedy of a life. This is a country's state-owned media company working with it's own self-image--it's inherently a work of self-reflection, and perhaps of self-obsession, too.

It would be easy to be cynical about Doctor Who as a product of the BBC, which is state-funded (but notably not owned or directly controlled by the government!). However, I tend to think that just writing it off as propaganda because of this is doing the show a disservice. Yes, there is an inherent privilege and self-centeredness to endlessly forgiving the Doctor, but that's also kind of the whole point; it's a show about coming to terms with one's horrible past. It's a show about learning to formulate a new sense of self. To demand that Doctor Who to be less self-obsessed, to not be about British identity when it is in fact a British show for Brits about Brits, is just a bit unrealistic.

Instead, I choose to believe that Doctor Who can and does use its privilege for good more often than not. The creators tend to be very progressive (as sci-fi so often is) and they can get away with a lot of very progressive messages in the guise of a silly sci-fi show for families. Most recently, I would point to s14e3: Boom, s14e5: Dot and Bubble as examples of thinly veiled rants about the evils of capitalism, war, racism, social media, etc. To ignore or dismiss Doctor Who because it has some form of institutional backing would be doing the actual stories and writers a disservice.

Finally, let me leave you with one last point; One consistancy throughout the new series that I find very charming is the positive effect the companions always have on the Doctor. Companions come and go, which is sad, but they're each special in their own little way, and they each change the Doctor, wearing them down a little at a time. The Doctor is consistently at their worst when they are alone, removed from the people that make them want to be better.

Very often the companion's parting message for the Doctor is "don't be alone.” This can be extrapolated to mean: don't forget we exist. Don't forget to be kind. Even if you can't help your legacy, even if you can't wash the blood off your hands, you can always keep striving to be better. Keep someone around to remind you to be better. And the Doctor, more often than not, does. Because ultimately it is the companions, us the people, that make the Doctor who they are.

It’s this special brand of relentless optimism, this indomitable belief in the goodness of people and the power of that goodness that always brings me back to Doctor Who, one way or another, despite all its flaws.

Edit 11/29: corrected some info about the BBC per the comments!

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dreamwatch · 5 months ago

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Computer Love

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest

Ok, I wasn't going to write for today, but I was sitting on a work call and it made me think of the IT Crowd and that made me think of our beloved idiots. And honestly, I've been writing so much angst I thought I should try and redress the balance!

Steve wasn’t exactly over the moon about working for his dad, but one failed retail job after another and a few unpaid bills is all it took to have him crawling back to Harrington Senior. He didn’t want to be an office gopher, or work in the mail room, not at his age, but he’d suck it up.

Head of IT. His dad was making him Head of IT.

So far he’s told two friends. Robin, who stared at him like he had two heads before saying “Is he joking? Is it— is it like an April Fools thing?” And Dustin who was even less polite:

“What the fuck do you know about information technology?”

“Is that what it stands for?”

“Jesus Christ, Steve.”

He heads to the bank of elevators looking for his department. Harrington Industries is spread over twenty floors. He wonders if he’ll get a corner office. God the views…

Steve runs his fingers down the list until he finds IT. Basement. No view then. Shit.

He exits the elevator into a dingy hallway, discarded PCs and printers stacked everywhere, and trips over a cable almost immediately.

Finally he finds his department. And… well…

Fuck.

Yeah. It’s all making sense now.

It looks like a frat house. There are two guys on a ratty couch playing video games, and another two at desks; one mop top making cat memes, and an admittedly cute guy with long hair with his feet up on his desk. There are phones ringing and no one seems bothered by them, until eventually Long Hair lets out an exasperated sigh and picks up.

“IT Support, have you tried turning it off and on again? Uh huh. Yeah it’s the button on the front of the… yup, big grey button… can’t miss it… you know what, let me send someone up. What’s your floor? Uh huh, and name? Melanie. Melanie in Marketing. Well, I’m going to be sending my best guy up—“

And, finally someone has noticed he’s there.

“Uh, he’s on his way, bye.” Long Hair drops the phone. “Guys, we have company.”

“Hi, I’m Steve,” he says, smiling at the four faces now firmly fixed on him. “I’m your new boss.”

“Not for long,” snarks one of the guys on the couch.

“Matty, be nice!” says Long Hair, and god he has beautiful eyes. Shit, fuck, no, don’t go there. “I’m Eddie, that’s Matt, who is just about to head up to Melanie on four—“

“Oh for fu—“

“—That’s Jeff sitting next to him,” Jeff raises a hand, “and this is Gareth.” Gareth just scowls at him.

Steve finally gets a good look at them all. Ratty band shirts and sneakers, ripped jeans, totally unprofessional, they look like they’re in a band not an office. He’s going to be making some serious changes around here.

“Well it’s good to meet you all,” he says and finally catches sight of a small office. He points at it, “Take it this is mine.”

“Sure is,” says Eddie. “We didn’t know exactly when you were coming so you’re not set up yet, but Jeff will get that done this afternoon for you.”

“Why this afternoon?”

Jeff stares at him like he has two heads. “It’s Minecraft Monday.”

“Yeah, I have no idea what that is.”

Eddie laughs. “It’s fine, I’ll come in a few minutes get you hooked up. Why don’t you make yourself comfortable. Boss.”

His office is small and cluttered with more junk, and definitely no window. God, this sucks.

There’s a knock at the door and he turns to find Eddie leaning against the door frame, arms crossed against his chest.

“How d’ya like the place?”

Steve runs his hand through his hair, pushing it back off his face.

“Uh, yeah, it’s, you know…”

“A shit hole?”

“Yeah, a shit hole.”

“I take it Donny didn’t exactly fill you in on the details.”

Steve drops into the torn office chair. “Not really,” he sighs. “He has a habit of that.”

Eddie straightens up. “You’ve worked with him before?”

He laughs. “Better than that. He’s my dad.”

“Oh shit.”

Gareth barges in. “Wait, Donny the Dick is your Dad?”

“Donny the— hey, that’s—he’s the guy that pays your salary, a little respect.”

“Pretty sure that’s Karen in finance.”

“What…? You know, never mind. Point is, this department is a mess and there’s going to be some changes around here. Starting with the way you answer the phones, you can’t just tell people to turn the computers on and off—“

“—off and on,” Jeff cuts in.

“Whatever, you can’t do it. You need to ask what’s wrong.”

Eddie laughs. “I mean, we could, but the answer would still be to turn your PC off and on again so…”

Jeff and Gareth nod along like those stupid plastic toys. God, is it too late to go back to Family Video?

“Well, that’s as maybe, but for now you’re… ah, dismissed.”

He doesn’t miss Eddie’s amused smirk, as he gestures for his troops to leave. But then he’s perching himself on the edge of the desk, leaning into Steve’s space, those big brown eyes pinning him in his seat.

“So, just between us, you don’t actually know anything about IT, do you?”

“I mean… I know… uh, like mice, you know and uh… oh!” Steve snaps his fingers and points, triumphantly. “HTNL!”

Eddie’s biting his lip, god he has beautiful lips. “It’s HTML, but you were close. Do you do a lot of coding, Steve?”

He flops back in the chair, defeated. “Up until last week I was working in Family Video.”

“In their IT department?”

“No, in their ‘this is due back in two days department.’” He groans. “What the fuck am I going to do?”

Eddie laughs. “Don’t sweat it, you’ve got a lot more going for you than the last guy.”

“I have?”

“Oh yeah. At least you’re pretty,” he says with a wink.

Yeah, Steve’s totally screwed.

#corrodedcoffinfest #corroded coffin #corroded coffin au #steve harrington #eddie munson #gareth stranger things #jeff stranger things #matt (unnamed freak stranger things)#fluff and nonsense #it crowd au

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eyeodyssey · 1 year ago

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The Post-Futurist Fossils of LITCHI HIKARI CLUB In a somewhat recent research tangent, while considering the possible “genealogy” of the Tokyo Grand Guignol’s themes and aesthetics, I made an interesting personal discovery regarding Litchi Hikari Club. Specifically some distinct thematic parallels that the play shares with the Italian futurist movement, less in relation to the art of the movement itself, but rather the ideologies of the movement’s controversial founder, Filippo Tommaso Marinetti, and his relation to the Italian fascist party. This is all of course in the context of understanding Litchi as a transgressive/dystopian horror story. This is less of an absolute statement than it is a sort of open train of thought, so take things with a fair grain of salt. This is more or less just my own personal analysis of all the materials I could gather of the original play. Beyond inspecting the play as a possible allegory for futurism, there's also just a lot of general analysis of the play in relation to Ameya's overall body of work, both with the Tokyo Grand Guignol and also as a performance artist. I rarely put a 'keep reading' tag on these things since I'm an openly shameless product of the early days of blogging, but this one's a doozy (both in the information but also just the gargantuan length). Hopefully others will find it just as interesting. The full essay is below...

The futurist movement itself was nothing short of an oddity. In their time, the futurists were pioneers of avant-garde modernist aesthetics, with their works ranging from deconstructive paintings to reality-bending sculptures and even early pathways to noise music with the creation of the non-conventional Intonarumori instruments of Luigi Russolo. Russolo’s own futurist-adjacent manifesto, The Art of Noises, would go on to influence such artists as John Cage, Pierre Henry, Einstürzende Neubauten and the openly left-wing industrial collective Test Department. When visiting the MOMA in New York City as a child, I was fascinated by Boccioni’s Unique Forms of Continuity in Space, a sculpture that appeared to be a spacetime malformation of the human figure encapsulated in a continual state of forward motion while in total stillness. Despite this, the futurists were also a social movement of warmongering misogynists, with their own founding manifesto by Marinetti describing the bloodshed and cruelty of war as being “… the only cure for the world”. Their manifesto would also feature quotes such as “We want to demolish museums and libraries, fight morality, feminism and all opportunist and utilitarian cowardice”. They would originally pin anarchism as being their ideological ground in the manifesto, but shortly thereafter Marinetti would pick up an interest in fascism along with the politics of Benito Mussolini, going on to be a coauthor for the Italian fascist manifesto alongside the futurist manifesto. In consideration of how throughout most of World War II, modernist and post-modern works were considered “degenerate” forms of art in contrast with traditionalism, a whole avant-garde movement founded from fascist ideals is paradoxical. But for a period of time, that parallel wasn’t only in existence, but backed by Mussolini himself with there being a brief effort by Marinetti to make futurism the official aesthetic of fascist Italy. One of the draws of futurism for Marinetti was an underlying sense of violence and extremity. According to Marinetti, his initial inspiration for the movement was the sensations he felt in the aftermath of a car accident where he drove into a ditch after nearly running over a band of tricyclists. He conceived his works to be acts of social disruption, intending to put people in states of unrest to cause riots and similar bouts of violence. “Art, in fact, can be nothing but violence, cruelty, and injustice”. He sought to destroy history to pave the way for a rapid acceleration to futuristic technological revelation.

“As shown in Edogawa Rampo’s Boy Detectives Club, young men like to hide from a world of girls and adulthood to form their own secret societies.” - June Vol. 27 In Litchi Hikari Club, a group of middle school-aged boys are faced with a crisis on the brink of puberty. At the twilight of their childhoods, they form a secret society known as the Hikari Club (or Light Club), a collective that’s devoted to the active preservation of their shared youth and virginity. The boys naively mimic an authoritarian organization and its hierarchy as they seek a means to preserve their boyhood, which they see as being idyllic in contrast to adulthood, a dreary state of existence that they call old and tired in the Usamaru Furuya manga version of the story. Similarly, in the Litchi Hikari Club-inspired short manga Moon Age 15: Damnation, the boys go on to liken their hideout with the paradisiacal garden of Eden. In said story, Zera would directly name the poem Paradise Lost in reference to the discovery of their hideout by adults (arriving in the form of ground surveyors) and the wide-eyed daughter of a land broker, with their contact to the virgin industrialized land being an ideological tainting of the sacred lair. In their mission, they seek refuge in technological inhumanity by having their penises replaced with mechanized iron penises, symbolic devices of power and violence that can only procreate with other items of technology. Working in absolute secrecy, they collectively manufacture a robot known as Lychee. The purpose of Lychee, previously only known to Zera, isn’t revealed to the other club members until its completion. It’s when they unveil their “cute” robot in a scene that parallels the 1920 German expressionist film The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari that Zera tells the other members of Lychee’s purpose as a machine that would kidnap women for them. The robot's efforts are assisted by the girl capturing device, a strange rice cooker-shaped mask that’s laced with a sleeping drug. When questioned about the fuel source for the robot, Zera explains how it will run off the clean fuel of lychee fruits rather than an unsavory yet plentiful substance like electricity or gasoline as a means to further match the robot’s perceived beauty.

While the club share a general disdain for adulthood, they hold a special hatred to girls and women. Going off the dogmatic repulsion to sexuality that Kyusaku Shimada shows as the teacher in the Tokyo Grand Guignol’s prior play, Mercuro (1984), it could be assumed that the Hikari Club hold a similar dogmatic viewpoint about the vices of sex. In this context, it’s likely that they would’ve perceived women as being parasitic by nature as spreaders of the “old” and “tired” adult human condition through pubescent fixation and procreation. Sexual thoughts are inherent to aging for most people, given the process of discovering and exploring your identity throughout puberty. It’s that exact pubescent experience the club seek to eradicate. Further insight is given to the Hikari Club’s dystopian psyche through their open allusions to nazi ideology. While Zera travels out to gather lychees from a tree he planted, the club get a special visit from a depraved elderly showman known as the Marquis De Maruo, performed by none other than Suehiro Maruo himself in the 1985 Christmas performance. Despite the club’s disposition to adults, they hold an exception for the Marquis for his old-timey showmanship and open pandering to the children’s whims. He always comes with autopsy films to show the young boys, and as they watch the gory videos he hands out candies that he describes as being a personal favorite of the late Adolf Hitler. He was said to also be the one to convince the boys to name their robot after the lychee fruit. It isn’t until Zera returns that the Marquis is removed from the hideout on Zera’s orders. Just before his exiling, he foretells to Zera the prophecy of the black star as both a promise and a warning to the aspiring dictator. It should be noted that there is a fascist occult symbol known as the black sun.

Suehiro Maruo as the Marquis De Maruo. On the right side is a caricature of Maruo as drawn by a contributor to June magazine, excerpted from an editorial cartoon in June Vol. 27 covering Litchi's 1985 Christmas performance. In addition, the Marquis’ role alongside Jaibo’s appearances in the play (which I’ll get to later) show distinct parallels with the presence of the hobo in the Tokyo Grand Guignol’s first play, Mercuro. In Mercuro’s case, the hobo (performed by Norimizu Ameya, who would go on to also act as Jaibo) visits the classroom in secrecy to lecture the students his depraved ideologies. Whilst the hobo in Mercuro was a figure of perversion that existed in contrast to the teacher’s paranoid conservatism, in Litchi both Jaibo and the Marquis are enablers of the club’s fascistic leanings, with the Marquis being a promoter whereas Jaibo is a direct representation of the underlining perversions of fascist violence. Though completely omitted from the Furuya manga, the element of the autopsy films shines a unique light on Zera’s death at the end of the story. In both the play and the manga, Zera is gutted alive by Lychee when the robot undergoes a meltdown after being forced to drown Kanon (Marin in the original play) in a coffin lined with roses. In the manga, Zera appears deeply unsettled when realizing his intestines resemble the internals of an adult. It’s unknown if this aspect is present in the theater version, as the full script remains unreleased to this day. It would fit however knowing not just the club’s repulsion to adulthood, but also how they retreat to technological modification to eradicate the human aspects they associate with adulthood. What is described of Zera’s death in the theater version has its own disquieting qualities as, from what’s mentioned, when confronted with his own mortality he appears to regress to a state of childlike delirium, a demeanor that’s drastically different from his usual calm and orderly presentation. Upon seeing his intestines, one of the responses he is able to muster is “I’m in trouble”. He says this as he questions whether or not he can fit his organs back inside the cavity before eventually telling himself that he’s just tired, that he “need(s) to sleep for a while”.

While never directly stated, it’s heavily implied that the club’s ideologies and technological fetishism ultimately root back to Jaibo, an ambiguously European transfer student who secretly manipulates the club’s actions from behind the scenes. Referred to by Hiroyuki Tsunekawa (Zera’s actor) as the “true dark emperor” of the Hikari Club, he was said to haunt the stage from the sides, closely inspecting the Hikari Club’s activities while keeping a distance. The iron phallus was first introduced by Jaibo through a monologue where he reveals how he fixed one to his own person, carefully describing its inner mechanisms and functionality before demonstrating its inhuman reproductive qualities by using the phallus to have sex with a TV. A television that he affectionately refers to as Psychic TV Chan, in reference to the post-industrial band fronted by Genesis P’Orridge. In the same scene, he promises the other members that they would all eventually get their own iron penises just like his own. In a subsequent scene, he reveals the iron phallus’ use as a weapon when, arriving to the club’s base with a chained-up female schoolteacher who accidentally discovered the sanctuary, he uses the device to brutally kill the teacher through a mocking simulation of sexual intercourse. Just before raping her, he likens her to a landrace, bred for the sole purpose of reproducing and being processed into meat for consumption. He menacingly tells her that he will make her as “cut and dry” as her role in society before carrying out her execution. While there was some confusion on whether or not the iron phallus was a machine or solely a chastity device, it was found in bits of dialogue that the iron phallus at least shares the qualities of a pump with a described set of rubber hinges. The teacher’s death gruesomely reflects the death of Kei Fujiwara’s character in the later film Tetsuo: The Iron Man (1989), with the iron phallus mangling her insides as blood splatters across the stage. While the club treats adult sexuality as a plague, they manage to find through the iron phallus a way to convert their own states of chastity into a form of violence, stripping all humanity away from the penis and rendering it to a weapon of absolute power through desolate mechanized cruelty.

JAIBO: “Length, 250 mm, with a weight of 2.4 kilograms. Arm diameter, 30mm. Cylindrical thrust, 170mm… With pins, plates and rods of die-cast alloy. And hinges of rubber… the rest is pure iron. It is the iron phallus.” - June Vol. 27 In the same interview, Tsunekawa would go on to recall how the members of the Hikari Club were effectively Jaibo’s guinea pigs. In both the play and the manga, an after-school night of the long knives ensues with the slow collapse of the Hikari Club as Jaibo influences the exiling of certain club members, with Zera left ignorant to the social engineering as a mere extension of Jaibo’s elaborate puppeteering. Left embittered by a chess match where he lost to Zera, Tamiya is easily tricked by Jaibo into burning the lychee field as a way to get vengeance. Upon being caught, Tamiya is castrated of his iron phallus, resulting in his exiling from the club as a traitor while also being mockingly likened to a woman in the process. In another scene, it’s recalled that Jaibo and Zera exchange a conversation about the Hikari Club’s loyalty to Zera as they observe the outside world through their periscopes. By all contemporary recollections, Jaibo was the club’s puppet master. He would’ve been the likely source of the club’s ideologies, the underlining hatred to women and fixation on technological violence, replacing mankind with a race of humanoid weapons. Zera would be a shell without his influence. The presence of futurism could arguably even be rounded down to Lychee’s presence in the story. Beyond his theoretic work, Marinetti was also a playwright. He would be most well known for his futurist drama La donna è mobile, a story riddled with similarly perverse renditions of sexual violence. The play notably featured the presence of humanoid automatons a full decade before the term “robot” would be coined by Czechoslovakian author Karel Čapek in the play R.U.R., with the French version of Marinetti’s script referring to the machines as “puppets” for their visual similarity to humans.

All of this plays out over a soundscape that’s dominated by unnatural electronic frequencies and synthesized percussion. The sound design was arguably one of the most important aspects of Ameya’s plays, with Ameya at one point describing the Tokyo Grand Guignol productions as being an ensemble of his favorite sounds. The setting further compliments the atmosphere, made to resemble the internal of a junkyard or factory warehouse where heaps of technical jump decorate the stage around the monochrome cabinet that would eventually birth Lychee. Some of the featured artists in the play’s first act include Test Department, The Residents, 23 Skidoo and Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft. The play’s opening, which depicts the capturing and subsequent torture of a student named Toba through a so-called “baptism of light”, is underscored by the S.P.K. song Culturcide, a grim primordial industrial dirge that paints the image of a dystopia where the genocide of ethnic cultures is likened to the infection of human cells by parasitic pathogens. Instead of being hung with a noose, Toba is suspended by a meathook, left as a decoration amidst the heaps of mechanized excrement. He would eventually be joined by the lifeless bodies of various women the Hikari Club abduct as they’re steadily gathered in a small box at the back of the stage. “Membrane torn apart, scavenging with the nomads. Requiem for the vestiges. Dissected, reproduced. The nucleus is infected with hybrid’s seed. Needles soak up, the weak must destroy. Cells cry out, cells scream out. Culturcide! Culturcide! Culturcide! Culturcide!” - Culturcide (from S.P.K.'s Dekompositiones EP)

“We are now entering an era which history will come to call ANOTHER DARK AGE. But, in kontrast to the original Dark Age, defined by a lack of information, we suffer from an excess of information, which has been reduced to the repetition of media-generated signs. Through this specialization, it is no longer possible for an individual to attain a total view of society. Edukation is struktured to the performance of a limited number of funktions rather than for kreativity.” “Kommunications systems are designed for the passive entertainment of the konsumer rather than the aktive stimulation of the user’s imagination. Through the spread of the western media, all kultures come to stimulate one another. By the end of the millennium, this biological infektion will have penetrated the heart of the most isolated traditions - a total CULTURCIDE.” “Yet in every era, a small number of visionaries rise above the general malaise. Those who will succeed, will resist the pressure to become kommercialized “images”, demanding identifikation and imitation. They will uphold their principles in the face of impossible odds. By remaining anonymous, they will be free to develop their imagination with maximum diversity. For this is the TWILIGHT OF THE IDOLS, - the end of the proliferation of the ikons and the advent of a new symbolism.” - From the back cover of S.P.K.’s Dekompositiones EP (released under the moniker SepPuKu) Over the course of the play, the story undergoes a drastic tonal shift as the focus moves from the Hikari Club’s hierarchical order and internal conflicts to the relationship between Lychee and Marin. Marin (performed by synthpop musician Miharu Koshi) was the first girl the Hikari Club successfully kidnap through Lychee after implementing the phrase “I am a human” in Lychee’s coding so it can understand the concept of human beauty. This small implementation causes a full unraveling in Lychee’s personality as it quickly forms a close bond with Marin, convinced that it is also a human like Marin. The soundscape changes alongside the overarching atmosphere, going from cold industrial drones and percussive electronica to ambient tracks. Some of the major scenes play out over moving piano-focused pieces and music box tunes from Haruomi Hosono’s soundtrack for Night on the Galactic Railroad. Originally created a weapon like the iron phalluses and the girl capturing device, Lychee is eventually defined in how he transcends from being a weapon to a conscious being with feelings. In this context, the play can be read as a juxtaposition of human emotion against inhuman futurist brutality.

This split was likely the product of the radically different creative ideologies of Norimizu Ameya (the Tokyo Grand Guignol’s founder and lead director) and pseudonymous author K. Tagane (the playwright for the group from Mercuro to Litchi). Ameya had come into the group with radical intentions, holding Artaudesque aspirations to transgress the literary limits of modern theater to achieve something deeply subconscious. Meanwhile, Tagane was a romantic who was known for their poetic and lyrical screenplays. Ameya purportedly sought out Tagane’s screenplays specifically to find a literary base he would “destroy” in his direction, deconstructing the poeticisms in his own unique style. He describes it briefly in an interview regarding the stage directions of Mercuro, stating how he took elaborate descriptions of a lingering moon and ultimately deconstructed them to the moon solely being an illusion set by a screen projector, mapping out the exact dimensions of the projection to being a 3-meter photograph of the moon rather than a “fantastic moon”. It’s believed by some that the Tokyo Grand Guignol’s formation and ultimately short run were the product of a miraculous balance between Ameya and Tagane’s ideologies. It’s possible that Litchi could’ve been a last straw between the two artists. After Litchi, Tagane left the group, with Ameya having to write the troupe’s final screenplay on his own. LYCHEE: “Marin is always sleeping… all she does is sleep. She doesn’t eat anything. Why does Marin sleep all day?” MARIN: “When you’re asleep, all the sadness of the world passes over you.”

"The second half of Litchi was predominantly driven by the sounds of Ryuichi Sakamoto and Haruomi Hosono. During a scene that featured a piece from the Galactic Railroad soundtrack, Miharu Koshi sang to Kyusaku Shimada while dancing like a clockwork doll to the sounds of a twisting music box. The scene lasted for a while and was very romantic, the interactions between Lychee and Marin were all very sweet and cute. The second act of Litchi was all a product of Tagane’s making. By the time of the following play, Walpurgis, I was told by a staff member that Ameya had written the screenplay by himself because Tagane had left.” “… While the first half was filled with repeated mantras and the unfolding aesthetics of an aspiring militia, the second half was immersed in the world of shoujo manga. It did appear that through the intermission, much of the junk and rubble around the podium was sorted out.” “… The Tokyo Grand Guignol’s plays were always defined by a strong nocturnal atmosphere. But in Litchi’s second half, it wasn’t a dark night, but a brightly lit one under the moonlight and plentiful stars in the sky shining through an invisible skylight. Marin doesn’t forgive Lychee immediately for his actions, responding to him harshly in a way that would confuse him and make him sulk. It came across as a somewhat bitter reimagining of a French comedy like Louis Malle’s Zazie dans le Métro or Jean-Pierre Jeunet’s Amélie, it was different that way in how it wasn’t only Maruo’s inferno.” - From a Twitter thread by user Shoru Toji regarding the 1986 rerun of Litchi Hikari Club Some questionable qualities do exist in the relationship between Lychee and Marin. What should be a peaceful retreat from the dystopian corruption still has a sinister undertone in the disparities between Lychee’s cold masculine features in contrast with Marin’s childlike girly innocence. It doesn’t help that Zazie dans le Métro (one of the mentioned films in the recollection) was directed by Louis Malle, who while known for such films as My Dinner With Andre and Black Moon was also responsible for the infamously discomforting Pretty Baby. Then again, Litchi was the product of a confrontational transgressive subculture, so the sinister undertones could be intentional. Keep in mind the contents of Suehiro Maruo’s prolific adaption of Shōjo Tsubaki and how it unflinchingly depicts abuse and manipulation through the eyes of a confused child. It could be possible that Lychee himself was intended to be childlike in its mannerisms. Throughout the existing descriptions, Lychee was shown as speaking in fragmented sentences while struggling to understand basic concepts. Zera was mentioned to also use certain phrases like “cute” when referring to the robot when it was unveiled. And it’s through Marin that Lychee learns morality like a child. The robot’s masculinity could be passed off as the cast all being adults. Hiroyuki Tsunekawa for instance shows distinctly sculpted features from certain angles when performing Zera.

In his aspirations to become a human, Lychee eventually “dies” like a human. With the burning of Zera’s lychee tree, the robot is left with a finite limit on its remaining energy before it totally loses consciousness. After his rampage, Lychee attempts to reunite with Marin, but he runs out of fuel. Before what should be a moment of resolution, things are cut short as the stage goes black, eventually illuminated to show an unpowered Lychee cradling Marin’s corpse in his arms. Zera reemerges to observe the remnants of Lychee and Marin. He speaks of how Lychee will crumble into nothingness alongside Marin for foolishly giving into human emotion, further implying the club’s views on humanity. After this, recollections of the play’s final lines differentiate somewhat. It was said that in the original Christmas performance, Zera calls out to Jaibo, posing the corpses of Lychee and Marin as being his seasonal gifts to Jaibo. Whereas in most popular recollections, it’s described that after his monologue, Zera shouts “Wohlan! Beginnen!” (German for “Now! Begin!”) before prompting the decorations across the stage to collapse, revealing a set of stepladders from behind that the remaining previously deceased club members stand, all drenched in blood with spotlights illuminating their faces from below. ZERA: “And with that, our tale of a foolish romance between woman and machine reaches its conclusion. It ends before me as I stand here, watching. Lychee, the machine, will rust away into dust. And Marin, a young girl, will rot away leaving behind only her bones, which too will crumble…”

Multiple readings can be deciphered from this conclusion. The most established theory is in relation to the Hikari Club’s aspirations for eternal youth, with the members technically achieving their goal through the stagnation of death. They will remain eternal children since they died as children, unable to ever grow into adulthood. In the context of futurism and mechanized fascism however, it could be read as a bitter observation of a lasting dictatorship. With how the Hikari Club members had rendered themselves less human than their own robot, they survive death to continue their work, seeking to one day eradicate humanity in favor of a race of sentient childlike weapons. “To admire an old picture is to pour our sensibility into a funeral urn instead of casting it forward with violent spurts of creation and action. Do you want to waste the best part of your strength in a useless admiration of the past, from which you will emerge exhausted, diminished, trampled on?” “… For the dying, for invalids and for prisoners it may be all right. It is, perhaps, some sort of balm for their wounds, the admirable past, at a moment when the future is denied them. But we will have none of it, we, the young, strong and living Futurists! Let the good incendiaries with charred fingers come! Here they are! Heap up the fire to the shelves of the libraries! Divert the canals to flood the cellars of the museums! Let the glorious canvases swim ashore! Take the picks and hammers! Undermine the foundation of venerable towns! The oldest among us are not yet thirty years old: we have therefore at least ten years to accomplish our task. When we are forty let younger and stronger men than we throw us in the waste paper basket like useless manuscripts! They will come against us from afar, leaping on the light cadence of their first poems, clutching the air with their predatory fingers and sniffing at the gates of the academies the good scent of our decaying spirits, already promised to the catacombs of the libraries.” - from the 1909 Futurist Manifesto by Filippo Tommaso Marinetti

I forgot what exactly first caused the parallel to cross my mind. I do recall it being reignited when having a closer look over the poster and flyer for Litchi’s Christmas performance in December 1985. The flyer in particular is really a wonderful thing to look at. Predominantly featuring an art spread by Suehiro Maruo, a suited man with Kyusaku Shimada’s likeness is shown caressing a girl in front of a modernist cityscape with spotlights shining up to a night sky. Other suited men in goggles fly in the air with Da Vinci-reminiscent flying apparatuses between the beams of the metropolis’ spotlights. A student in full gakuran uniform flings himself into the scene from the far left side of the image with a dagger in hand, and a larger hand comes from the viewer’s perspective holding a partially peeled lychee fruit. While not based on any direct scene from the play, it perfectly instills the play’s atmosphere with an air of antiquated modernity, like the numerous illustrations of the early 1900s that show aspirational visions of what a futuristic cityscape might resemble. The bizarre neo-Victorian fashions of the future and its post-modernist formalities. The term futurism came to mind somewhat naively from this train of thought. It was a movement I recalled hearing about, but my memory of it was hazy. It wasn’t until I went in for a basic refresher that I felt the figurative lightbulb go off in my head. That was when the pieces started to come together, but then also strain apart from each other into tangents. Granted, many of these parallels could be read as coincidental. Many of them can even be passed off the play being a work of proto-cyberpunk, knowing how Tetsuo: The Iron Man would subsequently explore similar themes of cybernetics and human sexuality. It should still be noted however that in contrast with many of the Japanese cyberpunk films, Litchi was explicit in its connotations between technological inhumanity and fascism, with the machinery itself being the iconography of a dictatorship rather than a product of it. In addition, with Tetsuo the film has strong gay overtones, with the technology being an extension of the sexual tensions between the salaryman and the metal fetishist. For a period of time, efforts were made to make futurism the official aesthetic of fascist Italy, and modern fascism as we know it is in the same family tree of Italian philosophy as futurism. The Hikari Club are explicit in drawing from German aesthetics rather than Italian however, speaking in intermittent German and predominantly using German technology. The spotlight that they used when torturing Toba in the first act, for example, was a Hustadt Leuchten branded spotlight. And if that isn’t a German name I don’t know what is. It was also said that Jaibo’s outfit in the play was modeled after German school uniforms. Though then again, the Tokyo Grand Guignol’s works were a bit of a cultural slurry. Jaibo’s name for example is Spanish (derived from Luis Buñuel’s Los Olvidados), while the character is implied to be German.

Similar to the cited origins of futurism, Ameya stated in a 2019 tweet regarding the June 9th, 1985 abridged Mercuro performance on Tokumitsu Kazuo’s TV Forum that in the following August of that year, an airplane accident occurred that led to the conception of Litchi’s screenplay. The exact nature of the accident was never specified, but the affiliates he was communicating with all appeared to be familiar with it and expressed concern when it was brought up. This was however one of an assortment of influences that were cited behind Litchi’s production, with the two more established theories regarding the then-contemporary mystique around lychee fruit in Chinese cuisine along with the play being a loose adaption of Kazuo Umezu’s My Name is Shingo. For what it’s worth, the themes of Litchi, along with the Tokyo Grand Guignol’s other works, were closely tied with certain concepts that Ameya personally cultivated throughout his career. A frequent recurring topic Ameya would bring up in relation to his works was the nature of the human body in relation to foreign matter, need it be biological or unnatural. With Mercuro the students taught by Shimada are made into so-called Mercuroids by having their blood supplies replaced with mercurochrome, a substance that is referred to as the “antithesis of blood” by Shimada while in character. In an interview for the book About Artaud?, Ameya cites an interest in Osamu Tezuka’s manga in how certain stories of Tezuka’s paralleled Ameya’s observations of the body. He directly names Dororo and Black Jack, observing how both Hyakkimaru and Black Jack reconstructed their bodies from pieces of other people, going on to bluntly describe Pinoko as a “mass of organs covered in plastic skin”.

A section from June Vol. 27 highlighting some of the more established performers from Litchi's 1985 Christmas performance. The actors from left to right are Norimizu Ameya as Jaibo, Naomi Hagio as the female school teacher (best known in cult circles for her role as Kazuyo in the 1986 horror film Entrails of a Virgin), Suehiro Maruo out of costume and Miharu Koshi as Marin. During his temporary retirement from theater, Ameya would take up performance art, with some of his performances revolving around acts with his own blood. While my memories of these works are a bit hazy, I remember one action he performed that involved a blood transfusion, with the focus being on the experience of having another person’s blood coursing through your veins. While I didn't have much luck relocating this piece (probably from it not being covered in English), I did find on the Japan Foundation’s page for performing arts an interview where Ameya discusses being in a band with Shimada where Ameya had blood drawn from his body while he played drums. He would also describe an art exhibition where he displayed samples of the blood of a person infected with HIV. “After 1990 he left the field of theatre and began to engage himself with visual arts - still proceeding to work on his major topic - the human body - taking up themes like blood transfusion, artificial fertilization, infectious diseases, selective breeding, chemical food, and sex discrimination, creating works as a member of the collaboration unit Technocrat.” - Performing Arts Network Japan (The Japan Foundation) There are still an assortment of open questions I��m left with in regards to the contents of the original Litchi play. One of the most glaring ones is Niko’s eye. In consideration of Ameya’s interest in the body, the detail would fit perfectly with his ideologies. A club member who, to show his absolute loyalty to the Hikari Club, has his own eyeball procedurally gouged out to be made a part of the Lychee robot. Despite this perfect alignment, none of the contemporary recollections mention this element. While Niko does have an eyepatch in certain production photos, it never seems to come up as a plot point. He isn’t the only one to bear an eyepatch either, with Jacob also being shown with an eyepatch in flyers. More questions range from Jaibo’s motives in causing the dissolution of the Hikari Club to the true nature of Zera’s affiliation to Jaibo. While Tsunekawa has stood his ground in the relationship between Zera and Jaibo being totally sexless, in the cited volume of June the editor playfully refers to Jaibo as being Zera’s “best friend” in quotes.

A side-by-side comparison of the cast listings on the back of the flyers for the December 1985 performance of Litchi Hikari Club alongside its 1986 rerun. The 1985 run's lineup is at the top while the 1986 run is at the bottom. Much speculation is naturally involved when looking into the original Litchi Hikari Club since it is in essence a cultural phantom. There’s a reason I used the term genealogy in relation to my research of the Tokyo Grand Guignol’s works. It is an artistic enigma as while its presence lingers in subculture, the original works are now practically unattainable due to the inherent nature of theater. As Ameya himself would acknowledge in another interview, theater is an immediate medium that can only be perceived in its truest form for a very short span of time before eventually disintegrating. So with the Tokyo Grand Guignol’s plays, you are left to scour through the scattered remnants and contemporary recollections alongside the figurative creative descendants of the plays. You analyze the statements of both the original participants and the people they openly dismiss, as even those people were original audience members before reinterpreting the plays to their own unique visions. Despite the apparent differences, I still feel that Furuya’s manga gives a unique perspective to the story when viewed under dissection. That is if you want to see it in strict relation to the play. Outside that, I feel it firmly stands on its own merits. I like the manga no matter what Tsunekawa says, that’s what I’m trying to say. Ameya approved it anyway. It took me a full day to write all this out, and like the first time I went down this train of thought, I’m pooped. During that first excursion, after excitedly spiraling through these potential connections, I noticed in passing mention something about Marinetti’s cooking. You see, later in his life Marinetti aimed to apply futurism not just to art and theater, but cuisine also. As an Italian, Marinetti openly despised pasta, seeing it as being an edible slog that weighs down the spirits of the Italian people. Just further evidence that I would never get along with the man, no matter my liking of the Boccioni sculpture I saw at MOMA all those years ago. Well, outside of him being a fascist and all obviously. I like pasta. Either way, he was on a mission to conceive all-new all-Italian cuisines that would match the vision he had of a new fascist Italy. Nothing could prepare me though for when I saw an image of what would best be described as a towering cock and ball torture meat totem. It is exactly as it sounds, a big phallic tower of cooked meat with a set of gigantic dough-covered balls of chicken flesh on the front and back where you have to stick needles through the thing to hold it together. Words cannot express just how big it is. The thing was damn well near falling apart from how unnatural its shape was, and you’re expected to eat it while it has honey pouring from the tip of the tower. I genuinely winced watching its assembly, I instinctively crossed my legs somewhat when it was pierced by wooden sticks and then cut into sections to reveal the plant-stuffed interiors. As a person with no interest whatsoever in cooking shows, I was on the edge of my seat watching a PBS-funded webisode of someone preparing futurist dishes. Seek it out for yourself, it’s an excessively batshit culinary freakshow. That is more than enough talk about penises for the rest of the week. I’m going to spend the next few days looking at artistic yet selectively vaginal flowers to balance things out, equal opportunity symbology.

#litchi hikari club #lychee light club #norimizu ameya #suehiro maruo #tokyo grand guignol

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cyberstudious · 4 months ago

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An Introduction to Cybersecurity

I created this post for the Studyblr Masterpost Jam, check out the tag for more cool masterposts from folks in the studyblr community!

What is cybersecurity?

Cybersecurity is all about securing technology and processes - making sure that the software, hardware, and networks that run the world do exactly what they need to do and can't be abused by bad actors.

The CIA triad is a concept used to explain the three goals of cybersecurity. The pieces are:

Confidentiality: ensuring that information is kept secret, so it can only be viewed by the people who are allowed to do so. This involves encrypting data, requiring authentication before viewing data, and more.

Integrity: ensuring that information is trustworthy and cannot be tampered with. For example, this involves making sure that no one changes the contents of the file you're trying to download or intercepts your text messages.

Availability: ensuring that the services you need are there when you need them. Blocking every single person from accessing a piece of valuable information would be secure, but completely unusable, so we have to think about availability. This can also mean blocking DDoS attacks or fixing flaws in software that cause crashes or service issues.

What are some specializations within cybersecurity? What do cybersecurity professionals do?

incident response

digital forensics (often combined with incident response in the acronym DFIR)

reverse engineering

cryptography

governance/compliance/risk management

penetration testing/ethical hacking

vulnerability research/bug bounty

threat intelligence

cloud security

industrial/IoT security, often called Operational Technology (OT)

security engineering/writing code for cybersecurity tools (this is what I do!)

and more!

Where do cybersecurity professionals work?

I view the industry in three big chunks: vendors, everyday companies (for lack of a better term), and government. It's more complicated than that, but it helps.

Vendors make and sell security tools or services to other companies. Some examples are Crowdstrike, Cisco, Microsoft, Palo Alto, EY, etc. Vendors can be giant multinational corporations or small startups. Security tools can include software and hardware, while services can include consulting, technical support, or incident response or digital forensics services. Some companies are Managed Security Service Providers (MSSPs), which means that they serve as the security team for many other (often small) businesses.

Everyday companies include everyone from giant companies like Coca-Cola to the mom and pop shop down the street. Every company is a tech company now, and someone has to be in charge of securing things. Some businesses will have their own internal security teams that respond to incidents. Many companies buy tools provided by vendors like the ones above, and someone has to manage them. Small companies with small tech departments might dump all cybersecurity responsibilities on the IT team (or outsource things to a MSSP), or larger ones may have a dedicated security staff.

Government cybersecurity work can involve a lot of things, from securing the local water supply to working for the big three letter agencies. In the U.S. at least, there are also a lot of government contractors, who are their own individual companies but the vast majority of what they do is for the government. MITRE is one example, and the federal research labs and some university-affiliated labs are an extension of this. Government work and military contractor work are where geopolitics and ethics come into play most clearly, so just… be mindful.

What do academics in cybersecurity research?

A wide variety of things! You can get a good idea by browsing the papers from the ACM's Computer and Communications Security Conference. Some of the big research areas that I'm aware of are:

cryptography & post-quantum cryptography

machine learning model security & alignment

formal proofs of a program & programming language security

security & privacy

security of network protocols

vulnerability research & developing new attack vectors

Cybersecurity seems niche at first, but it actually covers a huge range of topics all across technology and policy. It's vital to running the world today, and I'm obviously biased but I think it's a fascinating topic to learn about. I'll be posting a new cybersecurity masterpost each day this week as a part of the #StudyblrMasterpostJam, so keep an eye out for tomorrow's post! In the meantime, check out the tag and see what other folks are posting about :D

#studyblrmasterpostjam #studyblr #cybersecurity #masterpost #ref #I love that this challenge is just a reason for people to talk about their passions and I'm so excited to read what everyone posts!

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just-another-josh · 1 year ago

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Kara

Today is a good day.

No, today is a great day.

Lena continued to remind herself of that over the course of the last two hours.

It was an incredibly important day for her and her wife. Not just that, it was an important day for their family’s legacy. Today was one of those milestone days, the type that signified potential fully realized, the recognition of years of hard work and achievement. A cause for celebration with champagne, victory speeches, and overindulgent parties.

Lena knew this, she believed this.

And yet, all she wanted to do right now was punch Cat Grant in her stupid, Botoxed face.

Four months ago, Cat pulled Kara aside after a CatCo staff meeting and informed her EIC that she intended to run for president in the next election. “If a Cheeto-skinned, glorified game show host can become President of the United States, I should be a shoo-in,” she had reasoned with her. In order to avoid any blind trust complications and because presidential campaigns are very expensive, Cat decided to put CatCo Worldwide Media up for sale.

Lena was greeted by an ugly-crying Kryptonian when she arrived home that night. Cat’s departure was a double blow to her wife: Not only was Kara losing her mentor, but now she had to contend with a new owner who may or may not share the same journalistic integrity as Cat. Nightmares of another Andrea Rojas or Morgan Edge-like monster lording over the bullpen kept the hero up into the early morning hours after Cat dropped her bombshell.

Lena made a solid effort to reassure her wife that everything would work out for the best but when the company was put on the market the next Monday morning, the announcement quickly led to Lena’s assurances becoming hollow promises.

By the end of the week, the bidding war for the media giant had been whittled down to three frontrunners:

Roland Daggett: owner of Daggett Industries with reported ties to organized crime in Gotham.

Simon Stagg: owner of Stagg Enterprises who was currently involved in no-less than a dozen federal investigations for improper disposal of waste generated from his chemical plants.

The final bidder was no stranger to National City or the Superfriends; Maxwell Lord: owner of Lord Technologies and an all-around asshole, who appeared to have crawled out from whatever rock he’d been hiding under.

Lena knew that none of these parasites gave a damn about the fourth estate, nor would they want Supergirl watching over their shoulders while they engaged in whatever reprehensible activities men of their caliber got up to. Lena had no doubt that they’d use CatCo to steer whatever narratives that would profit them the most; much like Morgan Edge intended to do six years prior.

Bottomline, Kara was going to be out of a job if any of those criminals got their hands on CatCo.

Kara did everything she could to talk Cat out of selling to any of them, but Cat had no other viable candidates to sell to. Kara spent the better part of ten days straight trying to get Cat to see reason but was met with failure at every turn. Lena watched Kara sink further into depression as the days passed and it broke her heart.

On day eleven, Lena had had enough of watching her wife suffer. She had Jess arrange an emergency meeting with her finance and mergers/acquisitions department heads. There was only one item of business on the agenda, did L-Corp have enough in its coffers to purchase CatCo. She knew acquiring the media giant was going to cost a lot more than it did when she stole it out from under Morgan Edge. Luckily, the answer was a resounding yes. Since regaining her position as CEO of L-Corp, Lena had led the company to an unprecedented level of profitability. A proposal was quickly drafted. The minutia of the proposal was almost identical to the last time L-Corp purchased the conglomerate, save for one big difference: Kara, not Lena, would be named CEO of CatCo Worldwide Media; not just the print media, but TV, streaming, and online content.

Proposal in hand, it took Lena the better part of the evening (and early morning) to convince her wife that she was fully capable of doing the job. Hell, she’d been doing it for the last eighteen months as Cat became less involved in the day-to-day operations. Kara’s objections to Lena spending Lena’s money to save Kara’s job were quickly shot down, “You forget darling, it’s not my money, it’s our money. We’re married, what’s mine is yours and what’s yours is mine, you dork.” Finally seeing the light, Lena sent her wife to deliver the proposal directly to Cat; it took her less than twelve hours to accept their offer and approve moving forward with the sale. To say that she was relieved that L-Corp, and by extension Lena and Kara, would be running the company that she built with her own blood, sweat, and tears would be an understatement.

Now, Lena sat in CatCo’s executive conference room. Kara seated to her right, Jess to her left, and half of L-Corp’s legal department bracketing them. On the other side of the table, Cat, and her legal team. Lena had been fortunate enough to avoid attending the negotiation meetings in person; instead choosing to have her attorneys there as her proxies. Occasionally, she’d join the proceedings remotely whenever her two cents was needed. Today, however, was the big day. All the principles needed to be on-hand to sign the final contracts. Lena was initially excited to finalize the deal; if for no other reason than to see the beaming smile her wife had been sporting all day turn brighter than the sun.

Her excitement was quickly tempered when they stepped into Kara’s office and were greeted by Cat with a “Good morning, Mrs. Luthor. Good morning, Kiera.” Lena would have done a spit-take had she been drinking anything at the time. For a moment, she tried to convince herself that she had misheard her. That theory was quickly thrown out the window when Cat called Kara “Kiera” three more times before they reached the conference room. By the time they sat at the conference table to go over the final details before signing, Lena was seething.

After taking several deep breaths and getting her blood pressure under control, Lena tried to mentally talk herself down from doing or saying anything rash. It wasn’t the first time she’d heard Cat address Kara by that name, but it was the first time that it got under her skin. Why? Hormones. She was five months pregnant with twin Kryptonian girls.

For the most part, the pregnancy had been uneventful; after the hell that was first trimester, of course. She’d adjusted to the rollercoaster of emotions, eating 15,000 calories a day to keep her and her baby girls nourished, and the near constant fatigue. Most days, she basked in the experience of being an expectant mother; the flutter of kicks throughout the day, impeccable hair and skin, an insatiable libido, and a doting wife that would fly anywhere in the world to satisfy her food cravings. Yep, without a doubt, the second trimester had been treating Lena well.

Except for today.

Today, her lower back was killing her.

Today, her ankles were obscenely swollen.

Today, the twins were using her bladder as a trampoline.

Today, she felt like a swollen, bloated, beached whale.

Today, Lena had a short fuse, and Cat had no idea how close she was coming to lighting it.

As was standard practice for Lena with all business-related deals, she insisted on reading the final contract cover-to-cover before signing. Although she trusted her legal team, she refused to agree to any contracts that she herself hadn’t personally vetted. Her lawyers had been with her long enough to take their boss’ anal retentiveness in stride, fully understanding that it did not reflect on the quality of their work. While Cat herself remained non-plussed by the delay, her attorneys did a poor job of hiding their impatience. Picking up on the tension in the room, Lena’s senior attorney suggested that both legal teams take an early lunch and after receiving nods of approval from both Lena and Cat, the two teams exited the conference room.

Shortly thereafter, Jess received a text that appeared to be of an urgent nature. After receiving an ‘OK’ from Kara to use the Kryptonian’s office, she swiftly exited.

Kara and Cat continued to make small talk while Lena scoured the sales agreement line-by-line; occasionally securing her black, thick-rimmed glasses when they inched down her nose. Reading the contract had managed to curb her murderous thoughts; allowing her to convince herself that she was overreacting to Cat’s flippant disrespect towards Kara. She reminded herself that this was something Kara found perfectly acceptable, and if the time came when her wife did have a problem, she was more than capable of speaking up for herself. Lena took a deep breath and consigned herself to let bygones be bygones and drop the matter altogether.

Until…

“So, Miss Grant, I assume that once you’re elected, you’ll be giving us an exclusive post-election interview?” Kara playfully asked.

“Now, now, Kiera. As the president-elect I am obligated to give equal time to all media outlets. I mustn’t show any favoritism,” Cat said in a patronizing tone as she waved her finger at Kara as if she were chastising a small child.

Fuse officially lit.

“Darling, I am simple starving. I could really go for a Philly cheesesteak sandwich from that place we found in mid-town,” Lena said through a strained smile; trying her best to hide the anger coursing through her veins.

“D’Elia’s?” As Lena had predicted, Kara was predictably excited by the suggestion.

Lena nodded. “Yes, that’s the one.” She locked yes with her wife for the briefest of moments before averting her gaze back to the contract in front of her.

Kara’s face shifted from excitement to suspicion quickly, now focusing intently on her wife. Lena knew the Kryptonian was probably using her enhanced senses to see or if something was up. Lena cursed herself for thinking she was going to be able to hide her agitation, knowing full well that her wife would hear her increased heart rate and her uneven breathing. Lena blushed under Kara’s scrutiny and offered up her best smile.

Kara clearly wasn’t buying it. “Nahn rraop voi?” she asked with concern in her voice.

“Ju nim voi,” Lena reassured her. She leveled Kara with a look that told her to drop it.

Appearing to take the hint, Kara subtly nodded. “Funyuns too?”

Lena stared at her wife incredulously with a raised eyebrow. “Is that a legitimate question?”

Kara held up her hands in mock surrender. “A thousand pardons.” She turned to Cat. “Can I get you anything, Miss Grant?”

Cat rolled her eyes and scoffed, “Please, Kiera. In all the years you were my assistant, did I ever order anything as vile as a cheesesteak sandwich?”

Lena had to suppress the growl bubbling in her throat. She removed her glasses and massaged her temples in the vain hope that she could stave off the headache that could feel coming.

“A salad with a cheeseburger on top of it is somehow different?” Kara leveled Cat with a snarky smile. A deadpan look settled on Cat’s face. Kara shook her head. “They have salads…yogurt dressing and all.”

Cat seemed to perk up at this news. “Well, in that case, I’d love a salad.”

Kara nodded and turned her attention to Lena. She bent down and placed a chaste kiss on her wife’s forehead before super-speeding out of the room; Lena anchoring the papers in front of her to keep them from scattering.

As the breeze from Kara’s speedy departure subsided, Lena let out a long breath. After quickly organizing her thoughts, she straightened her posture and locked eyes on the woman across the table, sizing her up like a lion would a gazelle. Cat shifted uncomfortably in her chair, clearly unnerved by the intense look in Lena’s eyes, yet defiantly maintaining eye contact.

“Penny for your thoughts, Mrs. Luthor?” Cat said pointedly.

Lena folded her hands on the table, leaned forward, and using her well-honed CEO voice said, “I was just thinking about the remarkable difference in CatCo’s current market value compared to what I paid for it in 2017. Remarkable considering you purchased it from Andrea no less than three years ago for $250 million less than I paid for it.”

“The last three years have been very successful,” Cat said, clearly gloating. “And in all honesty, CatCo’s dismal market value three years ago was a direct result of Miss Rojas’ incompetence. The woman had no business being a journalist, she’s better suited to run some kind of multi-level marketing scam.” Cat scrunched up her nose like she’d smelled something foul.

Lena couldn’t argue, she wholeheartedly agreed with Cat’s assessment of Andrea. The woman had no concept of ethical business practices, let alone journalistic integrity. Lena was well aware that Andrea would run CatCo into the ground when she offered to sell it to her. Lena was more concerned with pissing Kara off at the time. A brief surge of guilt overcame her for the briefest of moments. Although she and Kara had long ago forgiven each other for their respective transgressions during their year-long schism, Lena still promised herself she would do something nice for the hero when they got home this evening as an unspoken “I’m sorry”; most likely something that would make her wife’s toes curl.

“Still, it’s amazing what you’ve been able to accomplish in such a short amount of time.” Lena praised.

“Thank you.” Cat seemed pleased with the compliment…and herself.

Lena leaned in closer to Cat. “So, tell me, owner to owner, what’s the secret? How in the hell did you turn a sinking ship worth $500 million into what Kara and I are shelling out $1.4 billion for?”

The question clearly threw Cat for a loop, her eyes flitted around the room as she considered her response. “Well, you can’t be afraid to ruffle a few feathers. People don’t like the truth sometimes, but that’s the responsibility of a free press, exposing people to the ugly truths that surround them.” Cat’s smile regained its cockiness. “Accuracy is more important than expediency; being right is always better than being first.”

“I have firsthand experience in that regard,” Lena sighed bitterly.

A look of recognition passed over Cat and she nodded benevolently. “That’s right. Your mother’s escape.” Cat shook her head and snorted in disgust. “I should have fired both Snapper and Jimmy for their incompetence.” Cat quirked her head questioningly. “I must say I was quite shocked when I heard you and Jimmy were an item at one point given his…negative opinion of you in those early days.”

“I still am shocked at my utter stupidity.” Lena grimaced. “Luckily it wasn’t a permanent affliction.”

Cat said nothing in response to Lena’s lamentation and the two sat in comfortable silence. Cat’s features softened and her lips slid into a warm smile. “That whole mess perfectly illustrates why competent leadership is so important. A good EIC would have put a stop to their recklessness.”

Thankful for the opportunity to shift the focus away from her relationship with James, Lena quickly replied, “I heard Kara tried to stop them.”

Cat’s smile took on a thoughtful appearance, a glimmer of fondness shown in her eyes. “That’s what makes her so remarkable. Even then, with only a few months’ experience under her belt, she still stood up to those jackasses. Her internal compass told her that something wasn’t right, and she refused to let her inexperience stop her from speaking up.” Cat’s look of pride was matched by Lena’s. “That’s what a competent leader does, sticks to their guns even when those in power tell them they’re wrong.”

“So, you think Kara a logical pick for CEO?”

“Absolutely,” Cat responded passionately. “Credit where credit is due, she’s been singlehandedly running the company for over a year now. She’s been performing tasks well beyond her job title and doing a damn fine job in the process.”

“So, would you say Kara has earned your trust and respect?” Lena set her trap.

“Unequivocally,” Cat said with no small amount of adoration, but her features quickly took on an aura of incredulity. “If I didn’t know any better Mrs. Luthor, I’d say you’re having doubts about putting your wife in charge.”

A feeling of pure satisfaction and anticipation surged through Lena as she now had Cat cornered, though she showed no signs of it, her poker face was impenetrable. (There’s a reason poker had been banned from Game Night, Lena could out-bluff everyone)

She almost felt sorry for the older woman.

Almost.

“No, Miss Grant, I have no doubts regarding Kara’s ability to run CatCo. I’m just confused.”

“About what?” Cat asked with an annoyed tone.

“I’m glad you asked.” The smile that spread across Lena’s face could only be described as sinister. “You compliment Kara’s leadership skills. You say that she is the best choice to run CatCo. You say that you trust her. You even go so far as to say you respect her.” Cat nodded, a look of absolute confusion on her face. “And yet, you continue to disrespect her on a daily basis, both privately and publicly.”

Cat sat silently, eyes the size of saucers and her mouth agape.

“What’s my wife’s name, Miss Grant?” Lena asked in an even tone.

Cat stared at Lena as if she was speaking a foreign language. Lena continued. “’Kara’. Say it with me, ‘Kara’.” Lena enunciated phonetically, making no attempt to hide the disdain in her voice. “K-A-R-A. If you’d like, I’d be happy to write it down in crayon for you.”

Cat was clearly flabbergasted, evidenced by her complete lack of response.

Lena took a deep, centering breath; her anger ebbing away ever so slightly. “Miss Grant, I don’t know you that well. When I met Kara, she spoke almost to the point of reverence about you. It became very clear early in our friendship that you were very important to her, so when you came back into her life, I viewed it positively.” Cat seemed to relax at the shift in Lena’s mood, her features loosened as she followed Lena with rapt attention.

Lena continued, her voice tinged with melancholy, “My opinion soured the first time I met you.” Cat looked at her questioningly, Lena rolled her eyes in response. “Our bridal shower,” Lena deadpanned. Cat gave a slight nod. Lena shook her head and continued, “As I was saying, our bridal shower was the first time I heard you call Kara ‘Kiera’. I just assumed I’d misheard you and let it go. When you called her ‘Kiera’ at our bachelorette party, I figured you’d had too much to drink. When you called her ‘Kiera” at our wedding, the only reason I didn’t cast a spell that would make all your hair fall out is because…well…it was our wedding, and I wasn’t going to ruin the day.”

Cat seemed to sink a little further into her seat as Lena listed off each slight, her face stoic.

“My favorite was the night Kara was awarded her second Pulitzer. You did such a beautiful job during her award presentation. Hell, you even introduced her using her proper name,” Lena paused, a look of mock astonishment on her face. “But no more than two seconds after she stepped off the stage, you called her by that goddamn name again!” Lena, face dusted pink, slammed her fist on the conference table, startling Cat.

Her anger rising, Lena gave Cat no time to recover as she leveled her index finger at the clearly unsettled blonde. “Kara is an extraordinary woman. She has saved this planet both as a writer and Supergirl. For fuck’s sake, she saved the universe from being wiped out of existence! Do you have any idea the enormity of something like that? I assure you, you do not.” Lena slowly rose from her seat and leaned over the table, hovering over a floored Cat. “She is a daughter, a sister, an aunt, my wife, the mother of my unborn children, and goddamn superhero for Christ’s sake! You will show her the respect, grace, and compassion that she is owed. You will commit to me right here and now that you will never, EVER, call her ‘Kiera’ again.” Lena picked up the contract and shook it in Cat’s face. “And if you fail to agree to that, I will burn this and piss on the ashes!” Lena mic-dropped the stapled papers.

Cat, wide-eyed and mouth agape once more, stared blankly at the discarded contract. Lena, satisfied with her tirade (for now), gently lowered herself into her seat. She retrieved her glasses and put them on. After grabbing the contract from its resting place on the conference table, she thumbed through the pages until she found where she left off and resumed her reading.

Lena was content to sit in silence while Cat continued to process what had transpired. She felt a great deal of satisfaction being able to defend her wife, even if it meant the deal might fall through. Lena knew that Kara would be devastated if she had to leave CatCo, and as much as Lena wanted to spare her wife from a broken heart, there was no way in hell she was going to let anyone disrespect her. If worse came to worst, they could buy a smaller publication and build from there; Lena feeling confident that any media organization run by Supergirl would garner a sizeable following, not to mention Kara’s skills as a publisher.

“Have you ever met Perry White?” Cat’s passive voice broke through the silence.

Lena set the contract back on the table, removed her glasses, and studied Cat for a moment. As far as Lena could tell, there was no trace of hostility or arrogance in Cat’s appearance. Lena had no idea why Cat was bringing up the former Daily Planet editor. Her curiosity peaked, she decided to follow Cat down whatever rabbit hole she was leading her. “No, I can’t say I’ve had the pleasure. Though I’m not too broken up about it seeing as how he was more than happy to label me as the anti-Christ after Lex was sent to prison.”

“The man was a pig,” Cat said, a slight tremble in her lips. “When I first started at the Planet as his assistant, he insisted on calling me ‘Caity’.” Cat paused, apparently waiting for some type of response from Lena; a raised eyebrow was all she received. “This went on for weeks. ‘Caity! Coffee, black! Caity, where’re my cigars? ‘Caity, get off your ass and get me some lunch!’. Until one day, I psyched myself up enough to correct him. He told me that he knew what my name was, but he didn’t care. From that point on, he started calling me ‘Caity-Cat’.”

“Did you report him to HR?” The look on Lena’s face was ice-cold, but the hint of warmth in her voice belied a touch of sympathy.

Cat scoffed, “God no. Filing a complaint against the EIC for one of, if not the largest newspaper in the United States would have been career suicide.” Lena could only shake her head in disgust, Cat nervously fiddled with her fingers and huffed, “It was a barbaric time. The entire industry was run by a bunch of testosterone-laden animals.” Cat chuckled quietly. “It’s unfortunate Perry retired before the Me Too movement, I would have loved to have watched him get skinned alive.”

Lena couldn’t help the snort that escaped her. Cat grinned brightly at her reaction. Lena quickly regained her composure and dramatically cleared her throat. “So how did you deal with it?”

“I used it,” Cat said confidently. “Every time I heard the name ‘Caity-Cat’, I used it as motivation to push for a better career. I made a vow that I would make such a name for myself that that son of a bitch would have no choice but to show me the respect I deserved.” Lena could see a flash of steely determination in Cat’s eyes. “Come hell or high water, I would prove that I was worthy of his notice.” Cat swallowed thickly, her eyes becoming glassy.

Lena picked up on the bitterness in Cat’s voice. She could see how much the memories of her time under Perry White pained her. She couldn’t help the swell of sympathy generated by Cat’s remembrances. Whether she liked it or not, Lena felt a kindred spirit in Cat. Both had navigated a world heavily dominated by misogynistic, deplorable men who did everything in their power to ensure their failure. She understood Cat’s motivation to prove that she belonged in that world, no matter its futility.

“Did you ever accomplish your goal?” Lena asked, already knowing the answer.

“In a way.” Cat thinned her lips, a far off look on her face. “A year after I got CatCo off the ground, I ran into Perry at some awards dinner. By happenstance, serendipity, or whatever the hell you want to call it, we went to get a drink at the bar at the same time. I said hello, and he grunted out ‘Catherine’.” Lena shrugged her shoulders and shook her head, unsurprised by the man’s apparent apathy. Cat grinned playfully, clearly feeling like she swallowed the canary. “But by then it didn’t matter. I’d grown far beyond needing his respect or approval. By that time, I had already accomplished more than that sack of shit ever could. I didn’t want, didn’t need a damn thing from him.”

Lena let Cat relieve her triumphant moment, happy in the knowledge that Cat was able to realize her self-worth without needing validation from anyone else.

“So, is that why you scall my wife ‘Kiera’? In some misguided attempt to motivate her?” Lena’s gaze bore into Cat with an intensity greater than Kara’s heat vision. “Because from where I’m sitting, it seems history repeating itself.”

Cat blanched at Lena’s assertion; a barely perceptible shiver ran the length of her spine. Cat let out a long breath before meeting Lena’s probing stare before answering wistfully. “When she started as my assistant, maybe…but I think it got to the point where I wasn’t even aware I was doing it.” Cat looked away from Lena, clearly angry with herself. She fell back into her chair with an unceremonious thud, her shoulders sagging defeatedly. “But it really doesn’t matter, still makes me a hypocrite.”

Lena answered Cat’s unasked question with a raise of her eyebrow and a slight tilt of her head.

Cat folding her hands on the conference table and leaned closer to Lena. “Please understand, I am so proud of Kara. She has exceeded every expectation I could possibly have of her. She has grown into a remarkable woman; and it has nothing to do with the cape and tights. She engenders trust and respect to a level I have never seen before. I’m used to my staff going above and beyond because they’re scared of me, but her, they do it because they adore her.” Cat’s eyes were glassy with unshed tears.

Lena’s features softened at Cat’s admission, a warm sense of satisfaction blooming in her chest. She started feeling the slight sting of welling tears in her eyes after hearing such kind words about her wife. Stupid pregnancy hormones.

There might be hope for Cat yet. At the very least, she’d avoid tasting Lena’s fist.

“Have you considered telling her that?” Lena pointedly asked.

Cat grinned sadly through trembling lips. “I feel like that ship’s sailed,” Cat said with a shaky voice. “How…when…I mean…I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

Lena didn’t even try to hide her enjoyment watching Cat ramble. “One, it’s never too late, two, use your words, and three, there’s no time like the present.” Lena motioned towards the closed door leading to the bullpen. Cat looked at the door confused. “Kara, I know you’re listening. You can come in now,” Lena said quietly.

Before Cat could react, the door opened and a sheepish looking Kara entered the conference room, two flimsy cardboard boxes filled with wrapped sandwiches and bags cradled in her arms. She set the boxes down and turned to face her wife. “I wasn’t listening.” Lena leveled Kara with an arched eyebrow in response, Kara quickly folded under her wife’s stare. “Well, I didn’t listen to everything.”

“Do tell, zrhemin.” Lena suppressed a grin.

Kara made to adjust glasses that weren’t there, quickly shifting to scratch her cheek. “Fine. I’ve been listening since ‘piss on the ashes’”. But in my defense, I could hear your heartrate was elevated and I got worried.”

Satisfied, Lena shrugged. The color had seemed to drain from Cat’s face after Kara’s confession, her eyebrows hitting her hairline. An awkward silence followed. Cat and Lena appeared to be in a stare down while Kara tried to avoid looking either one in the eye. Lena emerged as the victor of the silent battle; Cat turned to face Kara. Kier…Kara, I owe you an apology…”

“Miss Grant, you don’t have to apologize,” Kara cut her off with a wave of her hand.

“No, Kara, I do.” Cat took a focusing breath and swallowed thickly. “Your wife is right; I haven’t always been very nice to you. I’ve been disrespectful, callous, and sometimes, downright abusive; none of which you’ve deserved.” Kara was beaming as Cat spoke, now the third person in the room being brought to tears. “Sufficed to say, I will work harder to…be more positive with my feedback…and, at the very least, call you by your given name.”

Cat hesitantly approached Kara and after an awkward amount of positioning, embraced her in a tight hug. The floodgates opened and all three women had tears streaking their faces: Cat and Kara for obvious reasons, and Lena…well…goddamn hormones!

Kara and Cat pulled back from their embrace and messily wiped away their tears, a few sniffles coming from both women. “Thank you, Miss Grant. I accept your apology,” Kara said, a slight tremble in her voice.

Cat smiled at her warmly. “Kara, I think at this point you can call me Cat.”

Kara gasped in shock before devolving into clapping and squealing excitedly. “Ok…Cat,” she said with an overdramatic swagger.

Cat and Lena exchanged an eyeroll but didn’t comment on the Kryptonian being a spastic dork.

Cat leveled Kara with her best boss-stare, quickly pulling the hero out of her giddiness. “That is until I win the election. Then you’ll have to address me as Madame President.”

#supercorp #supercorptober2023 #kara danvers #lena luthor #cat grant

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jeraldnepoleon · 2 months ago

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Hospital Management Software: Transforming Healthcare with Grapes IDMR

Author : Jerald Nepoleon

In the dynamic healthcare landscape, technology plays a crucial role in streamlining operations, improving patient care, and reducing administrative burdens. Grapes IDMR, a leading provider of hospital management software, offers cutting-edge solutions designed to elevate hospital efficiency and ensure seamless management across departments. With the rise of digital transformation in healthcare, implementing a robust hospital management system (HMS) is no longer an option but a necessity. Let's explore how Grapes IDMR’s software stands out and drives excellence in hospital administration.

Why Hospital Management Software Matters

The primary objective of any healthcare facility is to provide superior care to patients while maintaining operational efficiency. Managing multiple departments, scheduling, billing, inventory, and patient records manually is time-consuming and prone to errors. Hospital management software simplifies these processes, offering a unified platform for tracking every aspect of a hospital’s operations, from patient registration to discharge.

In an era where patient care and experience are paramount, hospital management software optimizes workflows and ensures that healthcare providers can focus more on patients and less on administrative tasks. Here's where Grapes IDMR makes a remarkable difference.

Grapes IDMR Hospital Management Software: A Game-Changer

Grapes IDMR’s hospital management software is a complete, integrated solution tailored to meet the unique requirements of modern healthcare institutions. By bringing together various modules such as appointment scheduling, patient management, billing, reporting, and inventory control, Grapes IDMR offers a seamless and intuitive platform. Here are the key features that make it a preferred choice:

1. Patient Information Management

Managing patient records, histories, test results, and appointments can be challenging, especially for large hospitals. Grapes IDMR's hospital management software provides a central database for storing and retrieving patient data with ease. This ensures timely access to critical information, improving decision-making and patient care.

2. Appointment and Scheduling

With a highly intuitive scheduling system, Grapes IDMR helps hospitals reduce waiting times and optimize doctor appointments. The system allows real-time updates, ensuring that doctors, staff, and patients are aligned, reducing chances of overbooking or under booking.

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Hospitals deal with multiple payment methods and insurance claims on a daily basis. Grapes IDMR simplifies the entire billing process by providing automated invoicing, payment reminders, and integration with third-party insurance systems. This reduces billing errors and accelerates the payment cycle.

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Efficient management of hospital inventory is vital for preventing shortages and ensuring that essential medicines and supplies are always available. Grapes IDMR’s hospital management software offers an automated system that tracks inventory levels, alerts on reorders, and ensures that the right supplies are always stocked.

5. Data Security and Compliance

One of the critical concerns in healthcare is data security. Grapes IDMR takes this seriously by offering state-of-the-art encryption and security measures that protect sensitive patient data. Additionally, the software is fully compliant with healthcare regulations, ensuring that hospitals adhere to industry standards and legal requirements.

6. Reporting and Analytics

Having access to real-time data and analytics is crucial for making informed decisions. Grapes IDMR offers a comprehensive reporting module that provides insights into hospital performance, patient outcomes, financial metrics, and more. This allows hospital administrators to track key metrics and identify areas for improvement.

Benefits of Implementing Grapes IDMR Hospital Management Software

Integrating hospital management software like Grapes IDMR into your healthcare facility comes with a wide array of benefits:

1. Improved Patient Care

By automating routine tasks, doctors and healthcare professionals can focus more on delivering high-quality care. Grapes IDMR ensures that patient data is accessible at the click of a button, allowing for quicker diagnoses and treatment plans.

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With automated scheduling, billing, and inventory management, hospitals can optimize their operations, reduce redundancy, and increase staff productivity. This not only saves time but also cuts operational costs.

3. Enhanced Communication

Grapes IDMR enhances communication between departments and medical staff, ensuring that everyone is on the same page. This is especially useful in critical situations where time-sensitive decisions are required.

4. Cost Savings

By automating various administrative tasks, hospitals can significantly reduce overhead costs. Billing errors, scheduling conflicts, and inventory issues are minimized, leading to overall cost savings.

5. Data-Driven Decisions

Grapes IDMR’s powerful reporting tools enable hospitals to make data-driven decisions, improving both patient outcomes and financial performance. The software provides valuable insights that can help in resource allocation, process improvement, and patient care management.

Why Choose Grapes IDMR?

When selecting hospital management software, it's essential to choose a system that is reliable, scalable, and adaptable to your facility's needs. Here’s why Grapes IDMR is the ideal solution for hospitals:

Customizable: Grapes IDMR can be tailored to suit the specific needs of any healthcare facility, whether it's a small clinic or a large multi-specialty hospital.

User-Friendly Interface: With an intuitive and easy-to-navigate interface, the software is designed for seamless adoption, even by staff with minimal technical expertise.

Comprehensive Support: Grapes IDMR offers 24/7 support and training for hospital staff, ensuring smooth implementation and continuous operation.

Future-Proof Technology: Grapes IDMR stays updated with the latest technological advancements, offering hospitals a future-proof solution that can scale as the facility grows.

Final Thoughts

In today’s healthcare environment, hospitals need to adopt digital solutions to stay competitive and deliver exceptional patient care. Grapes IDMR’s hospital management software provides the perfect blend of innovation, efficiency, and reliability. By automating administrative tasks, enhancing communication, and ensuring data security, Grapes IDMR empowers healthcare providers to focus on what truly matters: patient care.

If your hospital is looking to boost efficiency and improve patient outcomes, Grapes IDMR’s hospital management software is the solution you need.

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dreaminginthedeepsouth · 3 months ago

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* * * *

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

September 19, 2024

Heather Cox Richardson

Sep 20, 2024

Yesterday morning, NPR reported that U.S. public health data are showing a dramatic drop in deaths from drug overdoses for the first time in decades. Between April 2023 and April 2024, deaths from street drugs are down 10.6%, with some researchers saying that when federal surveys are updated, the decline will be even more pronounced. Such a decline would translate to 20,000 deaths averted.

With more than 70,000 Americans dying of opioid overdoses in 2020 and numbers rising, the Biden-Harris administration prioritized disrupting the supply of illicit fentanyl and other synthetic drugs. They worked to seize the drugs at ports of entry, sanctioned more than 300 foreign people and agencies engaged in the global trade in illicit drugs, and arrested and prosecuted dozens of high-level Mexican drug traffickers and money launderers.

In March 2023 the Biden-Harris administration made naloxone, a medicine that can prevent fatal opioid overdoses, available over the counter. The administration invested more than $82 billion in treatment, and the Department of Health and Human Services worked to get the treatment into the hands of first responders and family members.

Addressing the crisis of opioid deaths meant careful, coordinated policies.

Also today, markets all over the world climbed after the Fed yesterday cut interest rates for the first time in four years. In the U.S., the S&P 500, which tracks the stock performance of 500 of the biggest companies on U.S. stock exchanges, the Nasdaq Composite, which is weighted toward the information technology sector, and the Dow Jones Industrial Average, an older index that tracks 30 prominent companies listed on U.S. stock exchanges, all hit new records. The rate cut indicated to traders that the U.S. has, in fact, managed to pull off the soft landing President Joe Biden and Treasury Secretary Janet Yellen worked to achieve. They have kept job growth steady, normalized economic growth and inflation, and avoided a recession.

As they have done so, the major U.S. stock indices have had what The Guardian's Callum Jones calls “an extraordinary year.” Jones notes that the S&P 500 is up more than 20% since the beginning of 2024, the Nasdaq Composite has risen 22%, and the Dow Jones Industrial Average has gone up 11%.

Bringing the U.S. economy out of the pandemic more successfully than any other major economically developed country meant clear goals and principles, and careful, informed adjustments.

And yet the big story today is that Republican North Carolina lieutenant governor Mark Robinson frequented porn sites, where between 2008 and 2012 he wrote that he enjoyed watching transgender pornography; referred to himself as a “black NAZI!”; called for reinstating human enslavement and wrote, “I would certainly buy a few”; called the Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. a “f*cking commie bastard”; wrote that he preferred Adolf Hitler to former president Barack Obama; referred to Black, Jewish, Muslim, and gay people with slurs; said he doesn’t care about abortions (“I don’t care. I just wanna see the sex tape!” he wrote); and recounted that he had secretly watched women in the showers in a public gym as a 14-year-old. Andrew Kaczynski and Em Steck of CNN, who broke the story, noted that “CNN is reporting only a small portion of Robinson’s comments on the website given their graphic nature.”

After the first story broke, Natalie Allison of Politico broke another: that Robinson was registered on the Ashley Madison website, which caters to married people seeking affairs.

Robinson is running for governor of North Carolina. He has attacked transgender rights, called for a six-week abortion ban without exceptions for rape or incest, mocked survivors of school shootings, and—after identifying a wide range of those he saw as enemies to America and to “conservatives”—told a church audience that “some folks need killing.”

That this scandal dropped on the last possible day Robinson could drop out of the race suggests it was pushed by Republicans themselves because they recognize that Robinson is dragging Trump and other Republican candidates down in North Carolina. But here’s the thing: Republican voters knew who Robinson was, and they chose him anyway.

Indeed, his behavior is not all that different from that of a number of the Republican candidates in this cycle, including former president Trump, the Republican nominee for president. Representative Virginia Foxx (R-NC) embraced Robinson’s candidacy, and House speaker Mike Johnson (R-LA) welcomed “NC’s outstanding Lt. Governor” to a Republican-led House Judiciary Committee meeting “on the importance of election integrity.” “He brought the truth with clarity and conviction—and everyone should hear what he had to say!” Johnson posted to social media. Robinson spoke at the Republican National Convention.

The difference between the Democrats and the Republicans in this election is stark, and it reflects a systemic problem that has been growing in the U.S. since the 1980s.

Democracy depends on at least two healthy political parties that can compete for voters on a level playing field. Although the men who wrote the Constitution hated the idea of political parties, they quickly figured out that parties tie voters to the mechanics of Congress and the presidency.

And they do far more than that. Before political thinkers legitimized the idea of political opposition to the king, disagreeing with the person in charge usually led to execution or banishment for treason. Parties allowed for the idea of loyal and legitimate opposition, which in turn allowed for the peaceful transition of power. That peaceful exchange enabled the people to choose their leaders and leaders to relinquish power safely. Parties also create a system for criticizing people in power, which helps to weed out corrupt or unfit leaders.

But those benefits of a party system depend on a level political playing field for everyone, so that a party must constantly compete for voters by testing which policies are most popular and getting rid of the corrupt or unstable leaders voters would reject.

In the 1980s, radical Republican leaders set out to dismantle the government that regulated business, provided a basic social safety net, promoted infrastructure, and protected civil rights. But that system was popular, and to overcome the majority who favored it, they began to tip the political playing field in their direction. They began to suppress voting by Democrats by insisting that Democrats were engaging in “voter fraud.” At the same time, they worked to delegitimize their opponents by calling them “socialists” or “communists” and claiming that they were trying to destroy the United States. By the 1990s, extremists in the party were taking power by purging traditional Republicans from it.

And yet, voters still elected Democrats, and after they put President Barack Obama into the White House in 2008, the Republican State Leadership Committee in 2010 launched Operation REDMAP, or Redistricting Majority Project. The plan was to take over state legislatures so Republicans would control the new district maps drawn after the 2010 census, especially in swing states like Florida, Michigan, Ohio, Pennsylvania, and Wisconsin. It worked, and Republican legislatures in those states and elsewhere carved up state maps into dramatically gerrymandered districts.

In those districts, the Republican candidates were virtually guaranteed election, so they focused not on attracting voters with popular policies but on amplifying increasingly extreme talking points to excite the party’s base. That drove the party farther and farther to the right. By 2012, political scientists Thomas Mann and Norm Ornstein warned that the Republican Party had “become an insurgent outlier in American politics. It is ideologically extreme; scornful of compromise; unmoved by conventional understanding of facts, evidence and science; and dismissive of the legitimacy of its political opposition.”

At the same time, the skewed playing field meant that candidates who were corrupt or bonkers did not get removed from the political mix after opponents pounced on their misdeeds and misstatements, as they would have been in a healthy system. Social media poster scary lawyerguy noted that the story about Robinson will divert attention from the lies about Haitian immigrants eating pets, which diverted attention from Trump’s abysmal debate performance, which diverted attention from Trump’s filming a campaign ad at Arlington National Cemetery.

When a political party has so thoroughly walled itself off from the majority, there are two options. One is to become full-on authoritarian and suppress the majority, often with violence. Such a plan is in Project 2025, which calls for a strong executive to take control of the military and the judicial system and to use that power to impose his will.

The other option is that enough people in the majority reject the extremists to create a backlash that not only replaces them, but also establishes a level playing field.

The Republican Party is facing the reality that it has become so extreme it is hemorrhaging former supporters and mobilizing a range of critics. Today the Catholic Conference of Ohio rebuked those who spread lies about Haitian immigrants—Republican presidential candidate Trump and vice presidential candidate J.D. Vance were the leading culprits—and Teamsters councils have rejected the decision of the union’s board not to make an endorsement this year and have endorsed Democratic presidential candidate Vice President Kamala Harris. Some white evangelicals are also distancing themselves from Trump.

And then, tonight, Trump told a Jewish group that if he loses, it will be the fault of Jewish Americans. "I will put it to you very simply and gently: I really haven't been treated right, but you haven't been treated right because you're putting yourself in great danger."

Mark Robinson has said he will not step aside.

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

#Letters From An American #Heather Cox Richardson #Trump lies #Biden Administration accomplishments #support for Harris/Walz #political parties #gerrymandering #REDMAP #Teamsters #Mark Robinson #opiod overdoses #American History #Radical Republicans

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