#Got a good grade in corporate slave I suppose. But at least I have one

[itsbeginningtostart]

Guess who forgot to update their blog. lol. My job closed up so I have more time!!! This isn't a negative tho. My boss pointed me toward a place his friend owns so like.. it's just a matter of waiting for an opening.

[forthelulzy]

Heaven By Violence: Chapter 3

Such are promises! All lies and jests Still a man hears what he wants to hear And disregards the rest — “The Boxer”, Simon & Garfunkel

“Varric Tethras. I knew I had heard that name.”

The dwarf in question glances up from the fire, gesturing with his flagon. “Really, Stormy? You didn’t recognize me immediately? You wound me.”

The bags under Irene’s eyes could carry an Orlesian’s powder kit, he sees, but at least she’s still standing. Her hands are on her hips, and she’s blinking at him, clearly taken aback by his jest. She’s been cloistered in with the advisors too much of late, he supposes. Today, two meetings. The rumor is they’re trying to figure out a way to get Chantry support in the wake of Roderick’s denouncement of the Inquisition. It’s all above Varric’s pay grade, but he is curious how it will turn out. He’s already taking notes, after all.

“I don’t read a lot of fiction,” she says at last.

“Okay, most of my stuff is fiction, yeah. But Tale of the Champion? All true! Mostly true.”

“Tale of the Champion…” she repeats, rolling the title around in her mouth. Varric is tempted to joke about her literacy, but that would probably be a bad idea. “That was the one about Hawke, right? Cassandra mentioned something about him.”

“Yep. Seeker was looking for him before the Conclave, wanted him to lead this Inquisition. Until I said I had no idea where he was, and then you fell out of the sky.” He would go into more detail about Cassandra’s rough treatment, but there will be plenty of opportunities for that.

Irene’s eyes narrow. “Until you said you had no idea where he was.”

“Shit, Stormy! Not you too!” he deflects. He reminds himself that though Irene looks like nothing but a thug, he still needs to be careful. “Look, even if I did know where he was, I’d rather have you than him any day. I respected the man, sure, but he and I weren’t exactly the best of friends. He got shit done, but he left a lot of bodies in his wake. Allies’ bodies.” Varric still doesn’t know why Cassandra was so eager to find Hawke; it was all in the book. He spared no one, and Hawke had — has — a lot to answer for.

“He killed his own allies?”

Varric sighs, gulps the rest of his ale. “Not directly, but yes. He sold an escaped slave back to his magister master, after leading him on for years. I thought they had a nice romance going on, right up until the betrayal. He did a lot of backstabbing, towards the end. The only person he didn’t stab — literally, or figuratively — was the guy who blew up the Chantry.” The sick smile on Hawke’s face as it had all unraveled… Practically congratulating a resigned Anders, encouraging him to run. No one had seen it coming. Meredith wasn’t the only lunatic in Kirkwall, she was just worse at hiding it.

Irene’s face has gone through an interesting array of emotions while he’s been talking: disbelief, surprise, anger, disgust. He’s grateful she’s so bad at hiding them. “I can’t… Why?”

It’s not a rhetorical question, but he can only shrug and look down into his empty flagon. “I’ll need a lot more ale to even begin to speculate. Join me if you like?”

She twitches, like he’s just suggested drinking literal dragon piss, says her goodbyes quietly and continues on her way down to her cabin. Varric shakes his head. Irene Trevelyan may be unstable, especially with so much pressure on her, but she is no Garrett Hawke and for that, he could almost thank the Maker.

~o~O~o~

The Hinterlands are huge and strangely boring for a battlefield. Varric wants nothing more than to get what they need — Mother Giselle — and go, but Irene rallies further as the days pass, and he can’t complain about her wanting to help people. Solas complains, mentions the Breach and Val Royeaux more frequently as they linger. He’s only slightly mollified with the discovery of some artifact that is supposed to measure the Veil.

Then he is back to complaining.

Varric thought he had Irene figured out — that she would argue with Solas over her leading them up and down and around the countryside while the Breach was still visible in the distance — but she mostly ignores the elf. She is, for once, in a good mood, though sometimes he catches her staring off into the distance with that expression. The one when she remembers something both fondly and with crushing grief. That one. He thinks about how to describe it in his book, but it will never suffice when compared to seeing it with his own eyes. Such is the nature of writing from life.

(There were some things he left out of Hawke’s tale, for the sake of the story. Things that may better explain how he should never be a choice for leader of anything. One day, maybe, he will write them down. Sod the plot. Sod the flow.)

~o~O~o~

He leaves the tent in the middle of night, Solas still breathing deeply and undoubtedly doing… something Fade-related, to find Irene still sitting alone by the embers of their campfire. He shakes his head at her pensive profile, and wanders off into the woods.

When he comes back some minutes later, she is, unsurprisingly, still there. He sits down next to her. “If you don’t mind me asking, Stormy, isn’t it time you woke up Cassandra?”

“Yes,” she replies. It is a simple statement of fact; she doesn’t sound remotely guilty. She breathes deep and keeps her eyes on the horizon.

“Right. If you, again, don’t mind me asking, is there something you’ve been avoiding? Something important?”

He means sleep, but she turns her head sharply and says, “I am not avoiding meeting with the Mothers! I need to help these people, and time to… Time to… Bullocks.” She turns away again, hands clenching. The mark flares in her left fist, and she hisses and punches the ground.

All right then. “It’ll be fine. Look, you may not be the sweet-talking negotiator Ruffles wanted, or the steady leader Curly wanted… or really, who any of us expected.” She scowls at him, but he shrugs and keeps talking. This is, for once, what he’s good at. “But you are far from incapable. Like she said,” he hooks his thumb over his shoulder in the vague direction of the Crossroads, though Mother Giselle is probably in Haven by now, “you don’t need them to agree with you. What you need is doubt. They think you murdered the Divine. Show them you want justice for her real killer. Just… try not to let them under your skin. They win that way.”

Something in her posture loosens at his words: she lets out a long breath and leans back on her hands, looking up at the stars. She studies them, that expression creeping back across her face. Varric lets her think. He’s said all he wanted to say, and though he could say more, no more is needed.

“Thank you,” she says when the embers have long become cold ashes. “You… remind me of someone. I haven’t seen him in years, but… I hope he’s okay, wherever he is.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You’re friends with another handsome dwarf with irresistible charm and impressive chest hair? What a coincidence.”

She barks a surprised laugh, wiping at her eyes. “No! I’m afraid you’re the only one I know quite like you. He’s almost twice your height, for one.”

“My dear Herald, was that a joke?”

Her smile cracks a bit at the title, but her voice is still teasing when she says, “No joke. He’s taller than me. Only by a fingerwidth, but still. He’s my… my brother. Half brother. One of my father’s many bastards. But he was the only one who let me be myself, when we were young.”

“Sounds like a good brother.” He does not mention that he wishes he had a brother now. It would ruin the mood, and it is not about him, besides.

“He will be so worried that I haven’t written. Everything has happened so fast. I don’t have the last letter from before… before the Conclave, anymore. I don’t remember where he was.”

“Don’t worry.” He pats her arm. “If anyone can find him, it’s our Sister Nightingale.”

He helps her with the first draft that night, and the next day Irene finally turns back toward the Crossroads to ask Corporal Vale if there is anything more that can be done.

He stares at her like she’s bloody Andraste come from on high.

And that is the day she looks back at them, exhausted, blistered, and smelly from days out on the road, and says, “Well then. Suppose it’s time to go.”

~o~O~o~

Brother,

I don’t know how much you’ve heard, wherever you are. Everything has been happening so fast, I can barely keep up myself most days.

And I’m in the thick of it. I was at the Conclave. I’m the only survivor — Colm is dead. I’m the one they’re calling the Herald of Andraste, brother. Symbol of the reborn Inquisition, closer of the rifts, a bloody Chosen One. I’m having enough trouble just trying to stay sane in all this, I can’t begin to live up to their dreams. I can’t begin to live up to my own.

I am going to Val Royeaux. My advisors — I have advisors! — insist that I need to get the support of the Chantry, or at least divide and conquer. I hope you don’t believe their stories about me. I didn’t kill the Divine.

I miss you.

Irene

~o~O~o~

Irene’s mood does not sour as they near Val Royeaux, but she does grow tense. The four of them haven’t stopped in Haven for more than a day to rest before they are out on the road again with the advisors’ blessings. Whatever they’d said in that war room, Irene holds herself like a giant is pressing down on her shoulders.

Her mood does sour when they enter Val Royeaux. A Mother grandstands in the square, decrying the Inquisition for all to hear. Worse, she recognizes their party immediately, and confronts Irene. She, however, dregs up the past she seems determined to escape — daughter of a Bann — for the confrontation, and remains surprisingly tactful. Varric wouldn’t blame her, really, if she got into a shouting match with anyone and everyone who still thinks her a murderer. But they have not seen what he, what the whole Inquisition, has seen. The Mother isn’t anywhere close to doubting, but the Sisters nearby are, and the templar with them wears it openly on his face. Herald of Andraste.

Then the other templars arrive and it all goes to shit.

She lives up to her nickname on the ride home — though only Solas and Cassandra seem truly comfortable on a horse, they are pressed for time after gallivanting around the Hinterlands for weeks — quietly building up a storm. The other elf they’ve picked up, Sera, keeps sending the rest of them quizzical looks, but she doesn’t leave, at least. Irene found someone else, ‘the First Enchanter of the last loyal mages’ (that part is said with contempt), but he hasn’t met this Lady Vivienne yet. He is told she needs to wrap up unfinished business before joining them in Haven. Probably involving an entourage and about seventy-three suitcases, if she’s a true Orlesian.

He chats with Sera, trying to distract her from poking at the Herald literally and figuratively. She is… an odd duck, but she’s funny at least. He’s glad she hasn’t run screaming into the hills yet.

They reach the valley without incident, and arrive at Haven to find the Commander waiting for them. He is tenser than usual. No wonder; Cassandra has sent word ahead.

“Herald!” he calls as Irene swings off her horse with all the grace of a druffalo. “I heard… that is… are you all right?”

She stumbles getting off, but bats his hands away when he reaches to steady her. Interesting. She brings her shoulders back, and though they are of similar height he seems so much smaller in the moment. “Fine, Commander. I’m fine. Val Royeaux won’t be. I did get approached by Grand Enchanter Fiona, though. Seems we have a better alternative to your precious templars,” she snarls.

He reels back as if struck. Varric winces. It’s a low blow, and the long road between Orlais’ capital and Haven has done nothing to soften her fury. A crowd is gathering, too, whispering among themselves.

Irene huffs and shoulders past him, heading for the gates, but stops short when Leliana, waiting on the steps, speaks.

“It’s more complicated than that,” she says calmly, voice ringing. She produces a folded paper. A report? “Your letter bore fruit. We have received a reply. You should read it before deciding.” She saunters back inside.

Irene takes a deep breath, then sprints after her.

~o~O~o~

Sister,

I believe a lot of things, true enough, but I could never believe that you would harm a hair on Colm’s head. He was a good man and I am sorry.

We hear very little, but what gets through is worrying. The rumors are vicious and I fear the Lord Seeker has done his best to promote them. What goes on outside fills me with dread, but what is happening here is worse. It is a thousand times worse. I do not wish to alarm you, but it is difficult to overplay the situation.

I am at Therinfal Redoubt, sister, with the remaining templars. The loyal templars, as we called ourselves at the start of the war. Oh, how arrogant we were. Our loyalty has been twisted. I don’t know what’s happening, but something stalks these halls.

I am sorry.

Julien

[ryanmeft]

Star Wars: The Last Jedi Movies-at-Home Review

Star Wars: The Last Jedi completely changes everything about the franchise, a fact which some will love and some will hate. One thing I feel confident in saying is that if you think the previous sentence is true, the odds of you being a middle-aged fanboy who still believes busy adults should be thinking more about the term “Midochlorians” are high. The reality of Rian Johnson’s entry into the once-iconic toy-generation engine is less dramatic: a few insignificant background details have been altered, once-thrilling space opera has been replaced by a plot revolving around running out of gas, and otherwise the movie is the same old Star Wars. Like The Force Awakens, it is still tied firmly to the original trilogy. Unlike The Force Awakens, it’s not very much fun.

I don’t honestly remember how part seven ended, and before you rush off to remind me, you should know I don’t remember because I’ve had better things to do since 2015. I don’t think it left off with the rebel fleet, led by the now departed Carrie Fisher as Leia, running out of oomph, but that’s where we start this entry. Actually, correction: we start with hotshot space pilot and bad Han Solo impersonator Poe Dameron (Oscar Isaac) lobbing grade school insults at Imperial Commander somebody-or-other (Domnhall Gleeson) to distract him from the fact that he wants to blow up their ships. I know people who were personally offended by the glib tone of this scene, but I didn’t mind, because quite frankly it was still more polite, mature and useful than trying to have a conversation about the franchise these days. He does blow up the ship he wants, loses 95% of the Rebel ships in the process, and wonders why they don’t declare him a hero.

If you somehow like Poe, don’t worry: the other characters eventually fawn all over him, because this movie has so many gaps of logic it is officially a registered Libertarian. Witness the scene in which Leia is temporarily unable to command. An officer prepares to announce her replacement. The camera pans around the room, lingering on familiar faces, right before the new commander is announced as…a supposedly legendary Admiral who we’ve never seen or heard of before this exact moment. Sure, she’s played by Laura Dern, and having Laura Dern in a movie is usually a good enough motivation for anything (see Downsizing for another example), but the film is riddled with such random and inexplicable introductions and asides. During the opening space battle, the cameras of longtime Johnson collaborator Steve Yedlin linger on the protracted heroic death of a woman whose importance is not explained, and who is later revealed to be a foil for terrible new character Rose (Kelly Marie Tran). Rose is also there to be Finn’s (Jon Boyega) pointless love interest. They have a mildly interesting subplot on a planet where the locals made their bones by double-dealing weapons to both sides, and Boyega once again proves he’s got the most interesting character of the three new stars, but his story is robbed of any pathos by a moment so ridiculously stupid that I’ll let you discover it for yourself. I never, ever question the logic of a movie about magic sword knights in space, but The Last Jedi is, in this regard, ambitious. 

Throughout all of this, the dialogue is so vapid and empty that it could only have been written by corporate committee. Compare it to the original Star Wars, which I re-watched afterwards for the first time in over a decade. The dialogue there was hokey and at times a bit workmanlike, with stilted delivery, and is mostly quotable through cultural accretion rather than any inherent quality. What it has is the sense it was written by a bunch of big kids who grew up on Flash Gordon and were having a ton of fun. The Last Jedi feels dictated by people whose primary interest was in appealing to as many demographics as possible, and as anyone experienced with spinning a good yarn knows, stories that are made for everyone are really made for no one.

Where the film comes alive is when Luke Skywalker is on screen, and I can honestly say I never expected to write those words. For all that he’s iconic, he was the dullest of the three main heroes in the old films. Here, he turns out to be the one and only part of the movie that feels like anyone really believed in it. Played again by the now obviously aged Mark Hamill, he resides in exile on a planet with only one island, inhabited by a frog-like race that seems to live to maintain it. Here are the remains of the first Jedi temple, a fact which could really be spun out into something fascinating if Disney were remotely interested in things that are fascinating. Luke has given up on the Jedi Order for reasons that are, if not really gripping, then more compelling than anything else the story offers, but like a true believer he still carefully guards the original religious texts. I wondered through most of the film how much better it would have been if the rest of it were this inspired. Unlike Harrison Ford’s obligatory, phoned-in final outing as Han Solo, appreciated somewhat by me at the time but which I have since recognized as pure fan service, Luke’s return feels like it adds something not just to this film but to the franchise.

It’s just too bad Johnson had to nearly foul it up by taking Rey’s story to the least interesting place possible. Rey is, if you recall, the new Force-wielding hero of the series, and she travels to the Skywalker Cosmic Bachelor Retreat to try and get Luke to train her. Their scenes together have zip, including a particularly funny moment, and for a while we think the movie will really go somewhere with Rey’s temptation toward darkness. It does not, because that would cut into merchandise sales. Instead, Rey heads off to confront Kylo Ren (Adam Driver) and his boss Supreme Commander Snoke (Andy Serkis), whose head looks like someone did something very painful to another part of their anatomy. Back in my review of The Force Awakens, I called Kylo and Rey the new additions with the most potential. I also said I could not give the series credit for future movies, and I have been proved right. Almost every bit of interest the two characters had has been flushed in favor of completely generic paths for their stories to take. The one revelation I thought added something new to Rey will doubtless be retconned for something duller when J.J. Abrams takes the reins back with the next installment. I think Daisy Ridley has a bright career ahead of her, and after seeing her in two Star Wars movies, let’s just hope it’s still ahead of her.

The new Star Wars series has schizophrenia. On the one hand, it wants to hew so closely to the original films that it refuses to break from them even in spin-offs. On the other, it seems determined to give fans what they have long desired by all but erasing George Lucas from the series he created. There is none of his life here, or his boyish, innocent wonder. There are no Mos Eisley cantinas, no strange alien jazz bands aboard floating slave ships, no underwater cities or rolling droid armies. There is nothing to match them, either. This latest entry neither moves the series forward nor captures the boundless magic of the past. No one could come in on The Last Jedi and ever think this was a series born from a crucible consisting of Kurosawa, Robin Hood and Joseph Campbell. In the quest to make it inoffensive to anyone not obsessed with continuity, it has finally been made lifeless. For all the complaining people still do about the prequels, they were at least films a human being wanted to make, done how he wanted to do them, with influences and ideas and innovations. The words “A Long Time Ago, in a Galaxy Far, Far Away” feel like farce now, applied as they are to a film with very little of the all-too-human emotions that generations of wide-eyed children invested them with.

Verdict: Average

Note: I don’t use stars but here are my possible verdicts. I suppose you could consider each one as adding a star.

Must-See

Highly Recommended

Recommended

Average

Not Recommended

Avoid like the Plague

[callmedrviper]

Okay, I know this is all my headcanons and me being an idiot and reading too much into a kids cartoon, but has anyone else ever thought about how terrible it would be to live in the Swat Kats’ society? Here’s just a couple of examples:

The corruption and nepotism rampant in the Enforcers. Everyone knows about the whole origin story of the Swat Kats and what Feral did to save his own tail, but lieutenant Steele is so incredibly incompetent that there’s no way he could have made the lieutenant rank on his own merit. Then there’s Felina, the only female officer EVER shown on the show. While the real reason is probably early 90s sexism in cartoons, the fact that she is the only female and just happens to be Feral’s niece also helps highlight the benefit of family ties within the Enforcers’ ranks. (Never mind the fact Feral BASICALLY ADMITS THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT’S HAPPENING AND WHY HE CAN’T THROW HER OFF THE FORCE EVEN THOUGH HE RECOGNIZES HE SHOULD.) She’s most definitely not the first Kat to benefit from this kind of nepotism if logic follows.

The fact that the Enforcers seem to be completely unchecked in their operations and can get away with using deadly force no matter what the situation is. As much as Feral likes to complain about the damage the Swat Kats do, it certainly doesn’t stop him or other Enforcers from using heavy, military grade weapons within city limits putting civilians in the line of fire. Heck, the fact that the Swat Kats exist helps prove how unregulated they are. Had an independent investigation or if Jake and Chance had sued the Enforcers for what happened, they might have been cleared or at least not have been forced into poverty like they were. If the Enforcers were regulated more tightly, then the first example I gave above might not have even been a problem to begin with.

Treatment of the mentally ill and citizens convicted of crimes is DEPLORABLE. Just look at Mad Kat’s introduction, or more accurately Mad Kat’s host’s introduction. Ringtail was being kept in an insane asylum (an institution that no longer exists in our ‘world’ thank goodness) because he ‘went mad’ after a new comedian took his place. And what does the guard who’s supposed to be keeping an eye on him do? That’s right, he WATCHES THE COMEDIAN WHO REPLACED RINGTAIL RIGHT OUTSIDE RINGTAIL’S CELL EVEN THOUGH RINGTAIL BEGS HIM TO TURN IT OFF! Ringtail is literally trying to hurt himself in his cell because he can’t stand to be reminded of why he’s there in the first place. And not only does the guard not turn it off, he MOCKS Ringtail for getting so worked up about it! This treatment of the mentally ill is what got those kinds of facilities shut down in the real world and many survivors are still living with the damage from the abuse to this day. Then there’s anyone who’s been convicted of a crime in MegaKat city. It’s very obvious that this world has strict, black-and-white views on ‘good’ and ‘bad’. And if you fall even slightly in the ‘bad’ category, you might as well kiss your dignity and any hope of fair treatment goodbye. Look at the conditions at the maximum security prison Rex Shard was at before the whole crystal thing. They fully admit in the episode that the prison is getting it’s funding from prisoners mining gems from the surrounding mountains. And while they say ‘volunteer’, the fact that the warden is actually taking the money made on the gems left over from paying basic prison expenses for himself and not for improving conditions within the prison or helping the prisoners really gives me the impression it’s much less ‘volunteer’ than forced labor. And no one other than Callie questions this for one second. Also, the warden does say ‘the prisoners’ and not ‘the volunteers’ so it sounds more like he’s forcing at least a majority of them to participate in this. THEN they even reveal in the next sentence that the warden is actually using a prisoner to test out a piece of equipment that is brand new and no one knows how safe it actually is in the mine right then and there. (Greenbox never once actually answers Callie or Manx on whether or not his machine was safe. He just skirted the issue by saying it was ‘real simple to use’.) So we have a someone convicted of a crime being used for basically intense, manual, slave labor now given a potentially dangerous device and sent into a freaking MINE- one of the most dangerous places for someone to be-, and really? NO ONE CARES. Not even Callie! She’s ready to leave and seems to have already put the whole thing behind her the next scene we see her in. No one cares that this warden is risking citizens lives and health, just because they were convicted of a crime and serving their time.

There doesn’t seem to be a union or worker’s rights or even occupational safety regulations for the more ‘blue collar’ industries. I have two reasons for saying this. First is actually the fact that Jake and Chance constantly have to put up with Burke and Murphy dumping HEAVY SCRAP METAL AND SPARE CAR AND OTHER VEHICLE PARTS RIGHT IN FRONT OF THE GARAGE. This doesn’t seem like much, but hear me out. Jake and Chance not only run the salvage yard, but they also are car and vehicle mechanics and work within the garage using a variety of hazardous chemicals (oils, battery fluids, paints, etc.) plus welding and other power tools. If something like a fire or a violate chemical reaction were to occur in the garage, they would need an exit from the building and not one that takes them the long way around and delays their escape. The area immediately outside the garage should be clear BECAUSE of these hazards and need for an escape. Also, that pile of metal could disrupt air flow and ventilation depending on where it is that day and could cause a build of hazardous fumes and or vapors within the garage depending on what’s being done. See what I mean? If there was a worker’s union or occupational safety regulations, Jake and Chance could report this behavior and have it stopped or Burke and Murphy fined or even fired. But it keeps happening throughout the show. The second example is the mining industry displayed in Caverns of Horror. The miners had to call in the Enforcers-the freaking military!- just to get something done about the fact MINERS WERE DISAPPEARING WHILE THEY WERE WORKING! Once again, a union or worker’s rights or safety regulations would have made this largely unnecessary as they would have more power to stop the operation and get an investigation into the safety of the mine before resuming work. But they couldn’t do that, and they even risked their jobs just because they weren’t going to continue work in a mine they felt unsafe in. All of this signals to me that working citizens really don’t have a lot of protections in this society.

We never really see issues like homelessness or poverty within the city being addressed. This is a little more just me nitpicking, but almost every program or project Manx directs the city’s funding towards are ones that benefit more of the middle or upper classes of the city (the ones who can afford to spend money at museums or spend the money on public transportation, or large corporations that would then ‘give back’ by renting the property), or benefit other areas which do need the funding but don’t directly affect someone’s life (scientific research, military weapons research, etc.). There are some that in theory could help bring jobs into the city, but even these are rare and seem more focused on a specific demographic that isn’t the homeless or ‘uneducated’ citizens. Again, this is more me nitpicking given it is a kids’ cartoon and that kind of stuff isn’t very interesting, but...eh.

The whole environmental issues I mentioned before. This world just does not seem like a great place to live to me. It’s either all developed or barren with very few natural environments left. Plus, the chemical pollution that even the society I’m rambling about recognizes as a problem. (How is cancer not a common thing in this world? Or maybe it is and we just never hear about it...)

Those are just a couple of examples I could think of.