#I am so glad for the choice of having Crowley wear a blue shirt you have no idea

[fragiledewdrop]

I had noticed this choice and I loved it, but I am reblogging this addition in particular because it highlights something that's been bothering me for a while.

I am not an historian, although I have studied my fair share of history, so take what I say with a grain of salt, but I'd be very thankful if those who see this would stop a moment to read.

It seems that a lot of people are learning about the camicie nere from this post. While I am glad there is a link for further reading here, I want to point out the black shirts were not nazis. They were fascists.

I have noticed that people, especially non-europeans, tend to conflate the two, but I think it's important to know that nazism and fascism are two different things. There would be A LOT to say about this, but the short version is that nazism is very much tied to the political and social climate of Germany during the 30s. Fascism was born in Italy - way before nazism- and had very different characteristics. It was also, obviously, a fruit of the time and circumstances, but the term also has a wider meaning that can be applied to different political movements. Umberto Eco explained it quite well (I have seen this essay reccommended a lot on tumblr, but it's for good reason. Eco lived through Mussolini's dictatorship. As an Italian who has had the same things described in similar tones by several family members, I urge you read it).

I don't say this to be nitpicky.

Nazism, as an ideology, was a specific cocktail of nationalism, revanschism, extreme racism, eugenetics, violent anti-bolschevism and of course antisemitism (it's important to note that the latter two where conflated: communism was thought to be a direct creation of "the jews"). It harkened back to Germany's traditional pagan past, and was often tied to forms of mysticism.

Fascism was very different. Fascists were also (still are) firmly anti-communists. They were nationalists. But, for example, they were not raging antisemites (no more than the rest of Western society at any rate). Mussolini and the camicie nere did not base their ideology on racism, which Hitler very much did. Racial laws were passed in Italy, yes, but only after Mussolini and Hitler became allies: in almost 20 years of regime until then, it had never been an issue.

Do you see why that's important? A fascist may not come to you saying he hates jewish people, or any other racial group for that matter. That doesn't mean they are not dangerous in other ways, or that they, given the chance, won't turn on the first convenient target without remorse.

Crucially, Mussolini did launch a brutal colonial campaign in Etiopia. There was of course racism there, and it was significant- but again, it was not the driving force behind any political decision, and honestly? It wasn’t worse than what democratic governments from England and France had been doing around the world for two centuries. That's a whole other kettle of fish.

So if you are looking for blatant, in your face racist or antisemitic ideology as a warning sign for fascism? Think again. Look closer. That's not all there is. It's not how it starts.

It starts with the systematical intimidation and eradication of political enemies. It starts with the loss of freedom- the freedom to vote, to express dissent, the freedom of press, of assembly. It starts with the formation of a militia. It's power based on raw strength. And it's not only socialists being beaten and killed. It's every party being dissolved, including the moderates, the catholics, the conservatives who supported the fascists's rise to power. It's workers being deprived of their unions. Those are the signs. That's what leads to utter control over every aspect of society, of individual life. It leads to artists and scientists being silenced, to children being systematically brainwashed, to history being censored. It leads to the kind of society that will follow its "duce" into a suicidal allegiance with the worst dictator you can immagine. A kind of society that won't bat an eye when that results in the deportation and murder of innocents citizens.

Hitler also started like this, but he already had all his plans in mind, and they were known. He had talked about the "jewish problem", and the stab in the back, and the Volk, and the Lebensraum before seizing power. In Italy, in Spain, in Hungary, there was nothing of the sort. Fascist dictators still rose to power.

You won't spot burgeoning fascist ideology if you are looking for nazism. You won't. And that's dangerous, because I honestly do not think there are a lot of actual nazis in the world today. There are, however, a lot of fascists. More than you would think, if you are looking only for Goebbels 2.0, or for the progammatic madness of Hitler's speeches after the Munich Putsch.

Another key difference: the nazis were not connected with any form of organized religion. As I hinted above, they had their own kind of spirituality that often went against Christianity in many ways.

On the other hand, it could be argued that Mussolini's most long lasting heritage is his pact with the Catholic Church. He couldn’t have come to power in Italy with the church working against him, with the pope opposing him in his own country, and he knew it. He seeked a deal, and turned it into an ideological weopon. Franco in Spain was also supported by many members of the church.

So fascists have and will use religion for their gains, especially if they can convince you they are the last barrier against the godless degenerates that want to destroy your way of life.

The nazis very much DID NOT.

I haven't been able to stomach reading all of Mein Kampf, but I have read several passages during the years. I have been studying nazism since I was a teenager, because it terrifies me like little else. From what I have been able to understand, that ideology would have been doomed in any other country, in any other time. Fascism, on the other hand? That's an export product, and a successfull one at that.

It's an endemic illness that lurked through all post WW2 Europe and of which Nazism was but one manifestation. It's a beast that evolves, and it survives. It's "twenty centuries of stony sleeped/vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle". It's been fed, and continues to be fed, by the fear of radical reform and the fear of 'the other'. Except radical reform is no longer the Comintern, and 'the other' is no longer the socialist and the jew (although I am not trying to say antisemitism isn’t still an issue. At all)

And one last thing. Dictators in general, and fascists in particular, rarely care about ideology beyond a certain point. They want power, and they'd do anything to obtain it and mantain it.

Mussolini started out as a socialist. He was kicked out from the party when he advocated for Italy to break neutrality to fight in WW1. He was still, however, an anticlerical republican. In the Programma di San Sepolcro, the first program of the Fasci, the fascists say they want, among other things, the requisition of the church's property, a tax on capital aimed at the "partial requisition of wealth", and the right to vote for women.

They did not hesitate one second to throw all that to the wind when they realized they needed the church, the king, and the borgeoisie. Ideology was negotiable to them. That's incredibly dangerous.

The nazis, on the other hand, tended to be fanatical to the point of utter lunacy. When it was clear the war was lost Hitler killed himself. Goebbels and his wife reportedly also killed themselves and their children because they didn't want them to live in a word without nationalsocialism.

What did Mussolini do? He fled.

My grandfather, who was 14 at the time and had been raised the perfect little fascist, who trusted Mussolini more than god, once told me that that flight was the greatest betrayal of his life. Much like Umberto Eco, he had to deal with the fact that all he knew was a lie.

Not all people his age share his perspective. I still can't help wishing that those who feel the appeal of fascist leadership would listen to what he has to say.

To be clear: I am not saying nazism isn’t dangerous, nor that there aren’t aspects of it that have survived. But to conflate nazism and fascism is to miss a lot of much needed context and nuance.

Sorry for the long post. This probably lacks depth- there's a lot more to be said, and I am not an expert. It's also coloured by my own personal opinions and experiences, especially because I have been feeling a lot of rage about these topics lately. To be blunt, you do not grow up where I did without having a few openly fascist relatives, aquaintances, teachers and family friends. The current political situation does nothing to defuse tensions, so forgive me if I lost control a little.

I do hope, however, that it can be a starting point for looking into this. And that if you do, you'll remember Crowley's choice of shirt as the thing that prompted you to. That, and the fact that you got to see a Nazi devoured by a spider for eternity.

hi! i hope you’re having a good night! i was wondering what the significance of crowleys blue shirt and red tie in the 1941 flashbacks mean? they usually wear all black, so i was just wondering if it meant something :)

It meant that Crowley was not going to let anyone mistake him for a Blackshirt during WW2.

[suvroc]

Ok well crap I went and did it. An attempt to compile the songs mentioned throughout the fic and in the comments of @omgmussimm​ ‘s Good Omens fic Tabula Rasa. 

Abandon all hope -- song titles and some choice lyrics under the cut. 

1. Hozier’s Shrike “I couldn't utter my love when it counted Ah, but I'm singing like a bird 'bout it now I couldn't whisper when you needed it shouted Ah, but I'm singing like a bird, 'bout it now” <yes the whole song>

2. Orville Peck's Hope To Die “Take me back to the time I was yours and you were mine Take me back, the words I'd say I had to whisper Because you liked it that way”

3. Elle Fitgerald's 'The Nearness of You'  "It's not the pale moon that excites me That thrills and delights me, oh no It's just the nearness of you"

4. Big Thief - Mary More a mood than the actual lyrics. The voice. I don't usually listen to female singers because they affect me too much? It actually was the first song in this playlist that made me cry. "What did you tell me Mary When you were there so sweet and very Full of field and stars You carried all of time Oh and, heavens, when you looked at me” - “But now you're out of sight And you'll kiss me like you used to in the January night” - “The sugar rush The constant hush The pushing of the water gush”

5. boygenius - Bite the Hand “I can't touch you, I wouldn't if I could I can't love you how you want me to”

6. Dorothy Moore - Misty Blue - 1976 "Oh honey, just the mention of your name (just your name) Turns the flicker to a flame Listen to me good, baby I think of the things we used to do And my whole world turns misty blue (misty blue)” - “Ooh baby, I should forget you Heaven knows I tried (heaven knows I tried) Baby, when I say that I'm glad we're through Deep in my heart I know I've lied”

7.  Ella Fitzgerald - Angel Eyes “Angel eyes, that old Devil sent They glow unbearably bright Need I say that my love's misspent Misspent with angel eyes tonight”

..... Damn I'm not going to get through this am I?

8. Billie Holiday - I'm a Fool to Want You “I'm a fool to hold you Such a fool to hold you To seek a kiss not mine alone To share a kiss the Devil has known”

9. Under the Gun by The Killers “Because heaven sends and heaven takes Crashing cars in his brain Keep him tied up to a dream And only she can set him free And then he says to me ...kill me now kill me now kill me now kill me Stupid on the streets of London James Dean in the rain Without her it's not the same The same, the same, but it's alright”

<Crowley/Esther - and Fuck yeah, the whole song.>

10. Haley Heynderickx - The Bug Collector “And there's a praying mantis Prancing on your bathtub And you swear it's a priest From a past life out to getcha And I digress 'Cause I must make you the perfect evening I try my best To put the priest inside a jam jar”

Fucking love the imagery of this

11. Homebody - Nai Palm "You don't have to bury all of the memories Hold on love" FUCKING WATCH THE VIDEO!!!!!! ! !!

quote from the comments we must...’ramble or explode’

12. (All of a sudden) My Heart Sings - Duke Ellington / Joya Sherrill- 1945 dAMN IT... “Your little laugh and handsome cries The star light gleaming in your eyes Remembering all those little things All of a sudden my heart sings”

13. #726 Glen Hansard - My Little Ruin (Session Acoustique)

“Come on, my little sorrow Won't you sing yourself a different song The melody that made you Is now a worn out sing along Every body's looking at you But I can't stand to watch I've seen this scene come and go too much” <YES THE WHOLE SONG...shit... cried the second time you are better than they are> CRAP

14. It's Happening Again - Agnes Obel “I took a day or two To exile from the light To unfold that prisoner They call a mind And for a brief moment We could stop the time But with the stars and the moon I woke up in the night”

15. "Unchained Melody"

“Time goes by so slowly And time can do so much Are you still mine? I need your love I need your love God speed your love to me”

16. (not in the comments but this one struck me for chapter 22) The Boy Done Wrong Again - Belle and Sebastian “On Saturday I was an angel shining fair You shone louder, longer You put my shine to shame Put me to shame now Put me to shame What is it I must do to pay for all my crimes? What is it I must do? I would do it all the time.”  

17. Landslide by Fleetwood Mac - 3x - 1975

“Oh, mirror in the sky, what is love? Can the child within my heart rise above? Can I sail through the changin' ocean tides? Can I handle the seasons of my life?”

(... How long is it going to take YOU to get over Tabula RAsa?)

18.  Sibylle Baier - Forget About 

SOOOOOOft “You made me forget about Have, want and exert And all of a sudden, I found out Oh, it's beautiful, the way you wear your shirt”

19. I Lost Something in the Hills  “Oh, I yearn”  😭

20. Phoebe Bridgers - Garden Song

21. Kishi Bashi - Manchester “The very last breath of the hero of our tale Would you only to guess Did he truly prevail In the the sequel? I guess I'll have to write a sequel

My favorite part's when I die In your arms like a movie It's tragic, but now the story has its proper end” - oh you guys sobbing

“Oh hello, Will you be mine? I haven't felt this alive in a long time”

XOXOXOXOXOX

(P.S. - there are two bonus tracks -.-)

[mattzerella-sticks]

Silly Bands (Dean/Cas, M, 7.8k, Misunderstandings in the Club)

Dean isn't sure what kind of club hands out wristbands. But he's not going to admit he's confused. He'll keep his head down, try to have a good time and hope it doesn't have anything to do as the night wears on.

And it doesn't... so he thinks. But when the truth of the wristband is revealed, he freaks. Did he make a mistake in which color he chose? Or will he discover it was the right choice after all?

It all depends on how he feels after one dance.

           Dean thought the night was going to be a wash. Visiting Sam over in sunny California, he resigned himself to a fate of hanging around Stanford’s campus like some creep. His brother had always been more of the ‘stay-home-and-study’ kid than the ‘out-until-4-am’ kind. So the first night there Dean readied the couch for the Netflix marathon he knew Sam prepared. Cut to Sam coming out of his room in a light blue button-down and dark wash jeans, glaring at Dean in his hoodie and sweats. “What?” he barked.

           “I thought I told you to get ready?”

           He scoffed, “Yeah, I am.”

           “Ready for what? A Netflix marathon?”

           “…Exactly that. What did you think I was getting ready for?”

           Sam threw his hands to the sky. “The bar!” Dean’s response was a simple blink. “You know,” he continued, “The bar I told you we were going to, tonight with my friends? Weren’t you listening?”

           “Uh��” Dean used to give Sam his undivided attention. However, in the lead up to college and after the big move, most of his conversations revolved around school and the law. “Sorry if I assumed you meant that bar test thing-y you’re always complaining about!” His misplaced foot tasted better than the intense look of disappointment Sam served him. “Fine, fine! Give me a few minutes – I won’t be long!”

           They were on the road in seven minutes.

           On the way, Sam chattered on about whom they were meeting and what bar they were going to. Again, Dean didn’t pay attention. Normally he would be an active participant, at times even lead their car conversations. Except after a serious run-in with a police officer on his way into Palo Alto, Dean focused on the road more than any class he sat through in high school. He breathed out in relief when he noticed they made it with no flashing red-and-blue lights in his rearview.

           Letting Sam out, Dean circled the block for a parking spot. He slid in between a yellow bug and a pale, beige truck. Then walking the blocks back, he snuck into the line right behind Sam as he was flashing his ID to the bouncers.

           One of the men stopped him, “Hey, where do you think –“

           “Sorry, sorry, he’s with me,” Sam said, “he was parking.”

           They conferred silently with drawn brows and snarled lips. Dean flashed a cheeky grin their way, winking with his patented Winchester charm. The bouncer who held him back dropped the hand from his chest. “Do you need me to explain the rules –“?

           Sam shook his head, “Nah, I already did that on the way in.”

           Dean doesn’t remember anything Sam said, but nodded along. ‘Besides,’ he thought, ‘What kind of bar has rules? The one that Sammy frequents, obviously…’ So he showed his ID and followed Sam inside.

           The pounding bass line reverberated in the dark hallway. Dean stared at the black vinyl walls, where neon paintings hung one after the other. The actual bar was hidden behind another door, each swing freeing the full blasting song of some club remix Dean never heard before. He glanced down at his outfit, unsure if it would fit in. Acid washed jeans, his favorite purple plaid shirt and a brown leather jacket.

           He didn’t stew long on it, the girl behind him pushing him forward. Right before the door, a woman with a high ponytail sat behind a desk littered with wristbands. When Dean stepped up, he was unsure of what to do. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sam grab a pink one and roll it onto his wrist. Dean rolled his eyes. ‘Of course he’d choose pink, probably to show how sensitive he is.’

           Sam tried handing him a wristband of the same color, only for Dean to wave him off. Instead he plucked a purple one from between a row of blues and greys and put it on. Sam stared, stone-faced, blocking his path like a statue. “Dude,” Dean asked, “what is it?”

           “You… are you sure?”

           “Uh, yeah, Sam? Purple’s my color.” He then shimmied his wrist between them for emphasis.

           Then, in a turn of events that set Dean’s nerves on edge, Sam swallowed back a sob. “Wow, Dean I… I never knew. Have you always known or did you just find out recently?”

           “Uh I mean, I don’t…” More people started shoving past them, yelling at them to move. “Listen, we’re kind of a fire hazard so could we…?”

           “Oh, right, right… I was just – never mind.” They entered, Dean putting the strange encounter behind him as a screech tore through his ears. He glanced around, taking in the bar’s atmosphere while he waited for the ringing to end.

           There was a large space in the center where most of the people were congregated. Dancing on top of a lit floor, different colors lighting up in time to the beat the DJ yards away controlled from his laptop. To his right there was a bar painted in navy, with a lit vanity behind it displaying the different types of alcohol they had to serve. Two bartenders wove around each other, dressed like Williamsburg transplants that had been air lifted out of the East Coast and parachuted into the West. Finally to his left, a series of tables and a row of booths that ended at a staircase that led to a second level.

           Sam raised his long arm, sweeping it up towards one of booths on the second floor. “C’mon,” he said, guiding them through the crowds to find his friends.

           After a detour through a spilled drink and past a very handsy woman, they made it. “Finally!” a small red head in a yellow jacket, black jeans, and a pink wristband said, “We thought you got lost!”

           “Nah, just got sidetracked,” Sam said, clapping Dean on the back, “Anyway, this is my brother Dean. Everybody be nice.”

           Dean offered them a salute and a “Howdy!”

           “Dean,” the redhead reached across the table, grabbing his hand in a firm shake, “my name is Charlie. It’s so nice to finally meet you!”

           “Nice to meet all of you as well…”

           As Sam left to get them beers, the group kept introducing themselves to Dean. He leaned in close, trying to hear over the music. And while he learned everyone’s names, he also found himself taking note of their wristband colors. After Charlie, Kevin Tran waved hello with his pink wristband. Then Mick Davies, a transfer student from England, shook his hand as well, showing off his blue wristband. Rounding out the group were twins Alicia and Max, in grey and blue wristbands respectively.

           “Y’know, Dean, Sam told us a lot, but not… this,” Max said, fingering his purple wristband, “Not that we’re unhappy – we’ve finally collected all the colors in this four-striped rainbow.”

           “Yeah, well you’re a lot calmer than my brother,” Dean snorted, “Nearly had a stroke when he saw me pick it up.”

           “Wait, so Sam didn’t know…”

           “Uh… don’t know why he didn’t.”

           Charlie chuckled. “Well you know how he is… sometimes he doesn’t notice the most obvious things.”

           “Yeah,” Mick chimed in, “Remember how he didn’t realize why we were in San Francisco until the day of the parade?”

           “Oh I know!” Charlie said, “Like we were dressed for it and everything – and he said that he wanted to ask but didn’t want to assume anything!”

           “Well remember Alex?” Mick asked, “We could’ve been making out in front of Sam and he still would have tried setting me up with that girl in his Ethics class!” They clinked their glasses together, the entire table roaring alongside them.

           Dean, unsure how that had anything to do with a purple wristband, was glad when Sam returned with two glasses from the tap to change the conversation. He sat on the fringe as the college kids discussed classes, tests, and clubs. It was interesting, having not gone to college himself. Dean doesn’t regret the choice, even now drinking with all of them. Hearing their horror stories reminded him how much he hated school, preferring to learn what he wanted on his own time.

           Although he wished he visited sooner. Sam was in the middle of his final fall semester now, and the last time he saw him when it wasn’t a holiday or through a filmy laptop camera was freshman move-in day four years ago. He was playing catch-up with the added disadvantage of loud, crappy music. “It’s not like I could leave, really,” Dean explained when someone asked, “Bills to pay… and our Uncle barely hired anyone else to pick up the slack. He only caved this summer when his disk slipped and he couldn’t get onto a creeper anymore.”

           Sam chuckled. “That sounds like Bobby. How did it happen again?”

           “Some rich douche got annoyed that his BMW wasn’t ready when he wanted, so he kicked over a can of oil that he slipped on after chasing him out.”

           “Jesus,” Charlie muttered, “He’s suing right?”

           Dean nodded. “Insurance even sent over some big-shot lawyer from their company, once they heard how deep the pockets of the douche were.”

           “I think I remember Bobby talking about him when I called,” Sam said, “Fergus… something. Whatever it was, he sounded real sour. Must not be getting along.”

           “Actually you’d be surprised,” Dean told him, “They look like opposites: Bobby in his dirty flannel and Crowley – Fergus Crowley, that’s his name – in all black suits. But they’ve gotten real chummy the longer the case has gone on.” He didn’t get into details of how close they were. Dean wasn’t supposed to work overtime that one night in October, and they forgot to lock the door. ‘He’ll tell Sam in his own time.’

           “So, besides your Uncle,” Mick said, “Do you have any other family in Kansas?”

           Dean drew his lips into that classic white person look. It was a loaded question, and he wasn’t sure how much Sam told them. He shrugged, “Just a dad. Mom passed away young.”

           “Yeah, Sam told us about that.”

           “First time we’re hearing about a dad though,” Alicia said.

           He looked to Sam, his brother leaning against the table with a rigid back. “There’s nothing to say, really. Retired, and spends a lot of his time at home.” Dean kept other details to himself, sure that tales of an emotionally distant, easy-to-anger, alcoholic would kill the mood.

           The DJ called out for everyone to get on the dance floor, shifting into an upbeat number as sugary as a pink drink he saw a guy carry. Charlie squealed, “Get out! I love this song!” She dragged Kevin and Mick away, hopping down and towards the brightly lit center.

           That was the beginning of the group’s break-up. Alicia joined the others on the first floor after Charlie waved to her from the writhing mass. And then a blonde in a skin-tight green leather dress, complimented by the blue wristband, pulled Sam away. Max stayed for a while, he and Dean chatting over their drinks. He enjoyed it, both sharing the same taste of music and books. But for some reason, Max left him. It was strange. He had moved in, fully facing Dean and laughing at a joke. Then Dean made a comment about a girl’s ass that passed them, and like a switch he lost interest.

           He wasn’t lonely for long. Now that he wasn’t surrounded by buzzed undergrads, different patrons descended to chat. It was as if Dean set up near a revolving door, a variety of men and woman checking in on him. Dean hardly had time to breath between all his new ‘friends’.

(Link to Rest of Fic)