#I am so tired of living in a dystopian movie | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

werezmastarbucks · 4 years

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boston

honeymoon masterlist

word count: 2538

music: savage streets by perturbator, you’ll only be safe with me by tuff turf, dark all day by gunship

You stood on one knee, feeling Kai’s fingers under your belt as he held you. You shoved out of the window half way, and yelled,

“I’m good!”

He pushed the gas pedal into the floor, and the car roared angrily, tearing through the night mist.

The black shadows surrounded you, floating out of the metal and brick twilight of the street so suddenly fear shot through you like lightning. You held up your shotgun and aimed, trying to balance with your hip on the frame of the window. Falling out of the window would mean imminent death: zombies were everywhere. They were waiting on the corners, in the windows of the buildings, hiding in the shade, behind the smelly dumpsters and in the middle of the road. As the city lights died out, and the car raced deeper into the district, golden and silver changed into cold blue and electric, the colors of docks and warehouses.

“I got them!”

“Shoot!” Kai yelled.

You exhaled and did not inhale, because the best snipers don’t breathe when shooting. As the monster truck passed by the cluster of black silhouettes, you fired three rounds into them, scaring the gathering and hitting one of them. Then you fell back into your seat and pulled your hair away from your face. It will be a bitch to try and brush after. The car drove out into the narrow quay where black water lay like glistening dirty skin, and Kai’s face was yellow in the passing bleak lights.

“What the hell is that?” he asked, poiting at the figure on the roof on the left. He slowed down a little, and you looked back to make sure nobody’s following you. You set the shotgun on your right.

“It’s Jeepers Creepers”.

“Wha... Y/N. What is Jeepers fucking Creepers doing at our zombie apocalypse?”

“I don’t know, Kai”, you snarled, “maybe he launched it. How am I supposed to know?”

“You’re driving me crazy”.

“I am afraid of Jeepers Creepers, okay? He’s gonna be the final boss”.

“I’m gonna tear his balls off”, Kai mumbled.

“He’ll take yours. That’s what he does”, you reminded him.

Kai snored.

“Get up. There’s more. They must have circled the parking lot. Look”.

Right in the middle of the road, where yellow fog was floating in the air like phantom veil, and the asphalt glistened, sweaty after 10PM rain, the black shadows barricaded the road. Kai stopped the car, and the low grumble slowly faded into the quiet, monotnous howl of the city. Somewhere, trains were moving to and fro on the rails, colliding with each other, creating noise. The factories were working, sending black smoke into the opaque sky, clogged by unwilling cigarrette clouds. The river itself, it seemed, hummed something very low, like a deadly lullaby. This world was a hostile and lonesome place. The only warm thing in here was Kai’s body sitting next to you, radiating humanity. You jerked your shotgun. You knew he was seeing exactly the same thing as you did - a bunch of zombies swaying slowly in your direction. He turned up the music a little.

“Ready?”

“Yeah”.

“Aim better or else we’re gonna drive in circles all night”.

“Don’t tell me how to kill zombies, Kai”.

He mimicked you, starting the car.

Next night, it was his turn, and you did the same thing, racing through the night city, crashing into cardbox fortresses and blowing up the glass forts, shooting the heads off the zombies, until you both have had enough of that zombie apocalypse world. It has been some time until you got tired.

(To get into the right mood, you have occupied the Columbus Movie Theatre for like a week, rewatching zombie movies. Turned out, you can’t just walk into a movie theatre and find all the zombie films piled up neatly in the movie room - or whatever it’s called. You have argued about them again and again, Kai insisting on Evil Dead being immortal classic, but the Day of the Dead was his all-time favorite. You nearly got into a fistfight with him over the Return of the Living Dead.

“Of course”, he puffed and laughed out, condescending as hell.

“What’s that laugh?!” you demanded. Kai shrugged.

“It’s such a girly thing. Return of the Living Dead. The third part is also your favorite, isn’t it?”

And he gave you the nastiest look. You narrowed your eyes.

“You bigot. You absolute fuckface. The first one is my favorite”.

He was enjoying himself too much, obviously agitated by the topic, not entirely there.

“Okay, okay”.

“But for the record, yes, I do think that the third part is the best love story I’ve ever seen on screen. It’s incredible”.

Kai nodded, the smile never leaving his face.

“She managed to fight off her cannibalistic instinct not to hurt the person she loved. She tore herself with needles and hooks to fight the urge to kill him and actually managed to keep him safe although she was literally a flesh eating zombie. How cool is that?”

Kai sighed and looked you in the eye.

“Very cool’, he said, with the tone that screamed ‘you’re silly and I adore you’.

“What other movies came out this year?”

“Not many, it’s only May”, he replied, digging deep into the box with films.

“Is Dream Lover out yet?”

“Yep”.

“We should watch it”.

“Later”, Kai said, throwing a film across the room and allowing it to crash into pieces. You hoped to hell it wasn’t Dream Lover.

“And Freddie Krueger?”

“No, not yet”.

“Damn it”, you looked over his shoulder.

“No Freddie Krueger!” he announced, “that’s it, she draws the line at Freddie. We’re leaving now”.

You laughed.

In the dark movie room, you could choose any row, any seats. You nested against each other, honoring the sacred cinema theatre tradition to gently touch in the twilight. While the action unfolded on screen, you had to shove popcorn into Kai’s mouth because it was the only way you could make him stop talking. When you ran out of popcorn, you had to shut him up with your mouth. It was a great week.)

You looked around the street and then, at Kai. How lucky he was, to find himself in this wretched place with someone as willing to play zombies as you were. You should do it more often. Maybe you should act out Mist next, somewhere in Houston.

You pulled your backpack up, and your eyes darted towards the black tower, ominous, insidious without any light, like a gigantic grave stone. Before Parker cut all the electricity, it was the Hancock Tower, now, it was just Tower. And the path to it lay through the dangerous city filled with brain craving monsters, bloodthirsty, dumb and ferocious, and you were running out of bullets. Besides, earlier on, you fell through one of the cardboard box forteresses and bruised your knee so badly, together with your left hand which you landed on. This adventure would be the death of you.

Kai twitched.

“I hear something”, he said, cocking his gun. You stood behind him, one-handed, unable to shoot. You closed your eyes. Lo, if they attack from all directions, you won’t be any help. A wounded companion is worse than an enemy in this world. You wondered if Kai would leave you alone to be eaten and stall them, or whether he’d shoot you in the head first, to spare you.

He walked on a little, entering a small square, and the black outlines of hairless, clotheless humans frightened you like you weren’t the one who had put them there ten hours earlier. They spooked you every time.

Kai shot three times, hitting each mannequin with one bullet.

“On the roof!” you pointed, turning back. You bowed as he threw up his shotgun, and fired. Heavy plastic body hopped and rolled down, falling on the ground. Kai could see in the dark so well you had to remind yourself he was human. Sometimes you would forget that fact completely. He was so different from everybody else.

He led you towards the tower where you stabbed one of the zombies in the throat. He was good at shooting, but you were very gifted with stabbing. You never missed.

“God damn”, Kai panted, as the mannequin swayed and collapsed on the asphalt just next to the glass door he was holding for you, “you saved my life”.

He took you in the movie gesture, pulling you into a long kiss. Your wrist started swelling and you had to take off your electronic watch temporarily. In the bleak room, it shone with green thin neon light from the bedside table while you had sex on the matrass.

In the middle of the night something fell off the roof, and scared the hell out of you - for real this time. You did not put anything on the top of the Tower since it was your fort. In the morning you came up on the top, while Kai went down and examined the object. Turned out, on the tenth of May, 1994, one single bag filled with files and staplers fell off the roof of the Hancock Tower. There was no way of knowing why.

“Wake up”.

You opened your eyes and rubbed your neck, aching from sleeping on the single mattrass on the floor. You looked out of the window. It has just stopped raining, which meant it was already close to midnight. In the dystopian Boston, you have switched to night regime of living completely because in the daylight, mannequins randomly standing in the streets looked simply stupid.

“The Titans”, he said. Kai’s face was so close to yours, you could feel the words on your skin. His eyes shone nervously.

“What Titans? It’s zombie apocalypse, Kai”.

He frowned.

“And what was Jeepers Creepers doing there then?”

“Oh my god”, you groaned, “let go of it already! You killed him like a week ago”.

“Come on, see for yourself”, he pulled you up, and you walked to the window, and gasped, instantly feeling for Kai’s hand. It couldn’t be happening.

That’s it! This madness finally drove you... mad.

There was an actual silhouette, the one you didn’t put there, and possibly couldn’t. The one that could not be put there for the life of you. The one of proportions too great for anyone to put it in the middle of the city, one foot on the right side of the river, and the other, on the left.

“What the fuck!” you yelled, your fright real as ever. Kai grinned happily, but then his face changed back to the philosophical expression of impending doom.

“This is it, Y/N. The zombies... and that dude... were just omens, but that’s it. The sky people have come to destroy us. It’s the end“.

“Seriously, Kai, how did you put it up... there?”

The sky was blackish-bordeaux, like usual. The river was seen just fine from here, from the top floor of the Tower. You had a pretty good look on the gloomy city and all its post-war industrial charm. The figure was so big it stood almost above the Tower itself; he reminded you of the Colossus of Rhodos, the Bronze Man, or one of the mythical golden gods of ancient times. You could actually feel your heart trying to break the hell out of your ribcage in a desperate attempt to kill itself. You couldn’t breathe for a second, mortified by the size of that thing. It was one of the deepest nightmares of your childhood, one of the visions haunting you from when you were little and kept dreaming about the end of the world.

You told Kai about those, and he now used them against you, but you appreciated the performance. It was all almost like art. It was horrifying and great, but you hated it.

“He came down from the clouds”, Kai said quietly, like a dispassionate narrator. Who already knows what’s coming, and doesn’t give a shit, because he’s already dead.

“To press the earth into the core of the planet, and make all life perish. He shall walk the land... waging his wrath on all that breathes. Including you and me”.

You made an effort to turn away, mesmerized by the statue, and looked at Kai.

“How much magic have you wasted on it?”

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t break the character, it takes me a lot of concentration”.

“Sorry”, you whispered.

“How do you feel about facing the end of the world with me?” he asked.

It was a damn good question. Parker really did ask all the right questions. After all the time in post-apocalyptic Boston, surrounded by enemy, living in a dark den and barely seeing the sun, it was very easy to actually sense the end coming. You clutched your own elbows, thinking. Strangely, you weren’t scared anymore.

A part of his face was in the shadow. He blinked the way you’ve only ever seen Kai blink, just a little, as if he didn’t want to lose visual even for a split second.

“I’m okay with it. I have lived a fine life, in my totalitarian city, guarded by robots and...”

“...zombies...”

“Hunted down by Harrison Ford...”

“You just jumble together all the movies, it’s actually insane, stop it”.

“But now as Cthulhu has sent its warriors...” (Kai rolled his eyes), “I’m ready to go”.

A lonely honk of a train cut through the distance making you feel melancholic. The trains were just crawling there day and night, filling the air with their lonesome cries occasionally. It would make any reasonable person go crazy, too.

“What will be the last thing you do before you die?” he whispered, his nose almost touching yours. You gave in, hot slow lava crawling up your body. You took Kai’s waist, trying to feel his ribs through three layers of clothing.

“You”.

He probably wore three or four shirts just to see you go nuts as you tried to undress him every time. His street jacket goes, then, a pullover, then a shirt, then another shirt, and you groan with anger as he chuckles at you, his hands snaking under your clothes at once. Your skin went shivering, covered with goose bumps under his fingers, like by magic.

As he pushed you against the wall, the gigantic Titan started melting above the river, looming shadow stepping away from the city, which was flattering. Kai’s whole mind was directed at you now.

You thought about how one loves at the brink of extinction; is it passionate, like when Kai grabbed your shoulder, your hair, pounding you into the floor, or is it gentle and thoughtful, like when you only moved your hips slowly, pressed against each other like two halves of Oreo, or is it impatient, breathless and vile, like when he was fucking you against the wall, talking all the way through your whimpering?

It took the end of the world for you to end up on his dick.

#kai parker #kai parker imagine #kai parker x reader #vampire diaries imagine #tvd #vampire diaries

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carrieeve · 4 years

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tagged by @together-is-my-favourite-place @bookwormforalways

Name/nickname: Karolina/Carrie

Gender: female

Star sign: aquarius

Height: 165 cm

Birthday: 17th of February

Favourite bands/artist: Metallica, the band previously knows as Dixie Chicks, Apocalyptica, Jelonek, Hunter, Luxtorpeda, Mariza, Joe Bonamassa,

Song stuck in my head: Kurier - Krzysztof Zalewski, No Regrets - Magic!

Last movie: original Ghost Busters

Last show: Bridgerton is the last one I binged, M*A*S*H is what I’m rewatching right now and there’s a Polish cult series from the 70s that I’ve been casually watching--07 zgłoś się

When did I create this blog: 10 years ago (sweet mother)

How it’s going: not brilliantly, to be honest. i’m just--tired. this last year was one disaster after another and i’m sick and tired of opening the news just to watch one bad situation trying to one-up another

What I post: Bellarke, still; the good old the 100 and whatever momentary hyper-fixation i get struck with at any given moment, as it’s always been

Aesthetic: chaos, my darlings, chaos;

Last thing I googled: online yarn shops with good prizes; i’m into crocheting lately, i need material

Other blogs: pah! i barely have the focus to keep up with this one blog

Following: fantastic people

Followers: yes, i have some.

Average sleep: anywhere between 5 and 8 hours; i’ve had several days off lately, i was able to catch up on some

Lucky number: not sure if it’s any lucky but 7 is my favourite

Instruments: they tried to teach me to play the flute in school--for 11 years. but i’m so beyond un-talented it was futile;

What I’m wearing: pink shirt, black leggings

Dream job: panda hugger

Favourite animal noise: when my cats jumps into my bed in the morning and makes this funny little chirping sound to check if i’m awake because she wants cuddles

Random :i finished my second jumper yesterday and i’m already thinking about another project

Favourite song: just the one? well, Nothing Else Matters by Metallica; it’s literally been in my ear my entire life

Last book: i reread the Witcher series lately and i got my self Kass Morgan’s new(ish) book - Light Years. now all i need is the mental capability to actually read it;

Top 3 fictional universes I’d like to live in: i don’t really know; some of my favourite stories happen in dystopian hellscapes and i think i’d just rather stay where i am;

tagging @pendragaryen @burninghoneyatdusk @poppykru @sallysimpsons @marauders-groupie @bellamyblake @craniumhurricane @kindclaws @kinetic-elaboration @useyourtelescope @thetravelerbewithyou @julibernardo @excuseyouclarke @nakey-cats-take-bathsss @kombellarke

#tagged

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denotday · 3 years

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Maybel Rhodes: Protectress

Itchy arms. My armbumps bumps take over life and chew my head off like a black mother. Even the sleeves of this sweater craddle these potholes as an english muffin craddles butter. But I'm more than my bumps and I'd make a quip on Fergie, but I'm no Joan Rivers. I'm small, meager. At eighteen, trying to find myself, live my own life. Typical teen drama, boring narrative, sob story. bored already. But know what isn't boring? I like strawberry shortcake and cheeseless pizzas. I have hopes of becoming a journalist and actually leading a career as moreof a Clark Kent than a Mary Jane or whatever the fuck that bitch's name is. Mary Anne? That used to be the name of one of my teachers. Going off; just thinking these thoughts while skateboarding to highschool.

Stay on the sides, away from cars, on the sidewalk, not too close to the white kids. White kids mean white mess, white messes mean cops who sweep the streets and take all the black kids with them in the process. I'm not a racist, just a black kid trying to stay alive in white america. Thank god I'm a weak bitch, one who cries for black men, one who doesn't face real issues like projected aggression. I'm a butterfly, something that men swat away and don't care about until MeToo movements. Gotta be careful but not too careful, kind but not too kind, firm but not a bitch, bitch but not a faggot. faggots suck.

No one thinks to ask these questions, here this thoughts. They see a black woman, better yet, a black female child. Worse thing to live in a ghetto. Sike; I say that I'm black and in a ghetto and get sob points. Fucking racist. I'm skating to one of those Fresh Prince schools. Didn't move on up, I'm simply moving; parents are mid class well grounded and guess what? My parents are still together. Probably breaking up soon but still breaking barriors of broke baby daddies and black slutty whore mothers who don't believe in abortion.

That's humor in of itself. A black kid skates into a white neighborhood with white sidewalks and doesn't have a nigger daddy and nigger mommy. What can be said by those PTA suburban soccer moms who want to demonise me and my own? Or am I palatable and a token black?

Making good grades, going to class on time. Only thing is, I don't have any friends to call. Even if I had one of those top quality iPhone 411s, I still wouldn't want to burden myself with filling up those high-techy contact lists. It's all bullshit after all, just capitalistic bilge. Something to fill the void without actually trying to let the public know that the void they're filling chalks up to capitalism. But again, those little tangents? "What does this have to do with having friends?" Everything. I don't give a shit, I accept shit. I tell things like it is, speak with lisps or change it up by sounding like an oxford professor.Not going to just abandon stream of consciousness 'cause class just started. This aint sims 4 and life ain't something that can be controlled; sped up or slowed down for the sake of an other's pleasure. I'm learning about shit that I'll never use like economics. That's shit that the government gives the state to teach, a little but not enough for highschoolers to overwhelm the system and decide "fuck student loans".

Not too bad here, though. Not all just "fuck hyschool" and teenaged angst. I go to the library, read books, go on my computer, listening to some Biggie and MFDoom and Tribe. Guess I am a nigger. Nigger-me and my nigger music. Even tththough it's they inspiration for they cracker music. Hate on us enough to keep us down but keep us up enough to steal from us. Today I'm reading some teen dystopian fantasy novel that I don't feel inclined to share with you guys. And no, it's not Hunger Games. It's Gunger Hames, the cousin of the franchise. Whoops just gave ya'll the name sorry. Either way I'm into that. Idea of a not-so-distant-future; humans making mistakes that fuck up the planet---disregarding that fact long enough so that the white main character can get it on with someone from the other side. Modern day Romeo and Juliett.

End of lunch, going back to class. It's back to back all day; boring teen shit that nobody cares about. Raising hands, answering questions, not understanding anything by the end of the day. Getting by is my motto. Long enough to get an A in the class and be on those ivy league watchlists. Even if I have to bust my ass to pay for student loans. Leaving highschool after all that non-work---no friends to lie to, no one to walk with, just me and my skateboard. These white paths not dirtied by brown except for my dirt body moving at the speed that a skateboard will go. Shift right here and there. Move away from rocks so that I don't fall headfirst. It's good shit. Here and there there are stone pebbles, blunts from---ironically enough--- the white kids and sharp object that I can't identify. FUCK. I don't have time to move around it and I can't just run offf. My leg'll get cut by it. Gotta just build up enough speed to roll over. Rolling...rolling...here it comes. Crouch down, focus, focus, pump speed anddddd....it stops my speed and loosens one of my bearings. Now I gotta walk the rest of the way back to my white little house with a white picket fence. Man screw--haha pun---this object. I have to use my 20/20 vision to find some small silver bolt that'll practically blend in with this bright ass sidewalk. Fuck white America.

In a little patch of weeds growing like black fists raising in the air I see the bolt and the responsible party for tossing me off the board. I raise my foot to crush this sonnofabiscuit like a bug so that some white kid's bike tire doesn't get licked---mind you this should be considered community service---and I figure that I won't ruin my rubber soles on the glass, so I'll just pick it up and toss it into the sewer. I put the bolt in my sweatpants pocket to keep it safe. I bend over again to peer at the crack in the sidewalk that I'll punt to the other side of the street where the other half of the street lives. It has tribal markings on it and must be, gasp, an ancient arcane ruin that'll give me superpowers. Kidding, you dumb bitch. "Why am I talking to myself this way? Jeez, some self-improvement classes would be nice". It's a bracelet made of some sort of beads. Kindof pretty but caked up with dirt and sand like no-one's business. I'm no Rocket Racoon so I just leave it. Even if I felt that it was interesting enough, I'd have to clean it off and disinfect it. It would just ruin the material underneath. Hm. Hm. Hm. Hm. Hm. Hm. Lemme stop; for real, in this white bread neighborhood, I might be able to get it appraised and pawn it off for some money or at the very least, see if it's worth keeping. I know; "this is the start of every horror movie", every tv show. I get it, but I'll cleanse the jewelry before wearing it. It's fine. It's fine. Hope it's fine. Jeez.

I put the bracelet in my other pocket away from the bolt and walk back home. The soles of my feet hit the white pavement and my feet move in the fashion of jubillee ferris wheels. Slowly rise in a circle, fall in perfect arch. Walking is divine poetry in of itself. Not too long now. A little further. Feels like the day is stretching. Still light outside and the summer-brink of fall--air is warming my rectum. "Oh god, what's with gays and their rectums". You know your g-spot is in your ass, men. It feels good for us too you know. Nice coolness for the butthole----rectum is for men, butthole is for women. I think. See? Not a Cliff Huxtable type; don't know everything. Not an Urkle. Conversations with myself like this are truly golden (ponyboy).

Fondle the silver piece, twist it in lock, get somewhere new. Novel design, simple concept. My rubber soles give me cat-walking abilities and I edge up the stairs. Hear shuffling downstairs in the kitchen. But the smell of musky forest wood with a hint of olive tells me that it's just my father. I'd announce my presence but this isn't a sitcom and I have a phone that I can use to text. Who talks nowadays?

On the table near the keyrack, I scoop into my pockets in search of the goods. The warm cotton touches the cool silver bolt. Set it aside to attach it to the skateboard later. "Why not now?" That'll be a problem for me to solve tomorrow. "Procrastination isn't good" Yeah I know. I've read the same 1990's health pamphlet that the health teachers give out. I hug my side to reach around for the other pocket. Same warmth, same feeling of comfort except...it's a new sensation. Hollow and porous. It's either bone carved into beads or plastic. Hope to...Well, not God, maybe I hope to goodness? Goodness? What am I? A preacher? Maybe that's why I like 16 year old boys. Anyway. It's too white over here for it to be bone. Unless it's some cracker who brought over some hoodoo shit and dropped it somewere. Great. Gonna burn some incense to cleanse it. Then gonna toss it somewhere so that it can't hurt anyone. Wait. It doesn't FEEL menacing. No darkness, no coldness, there's a comfort to be had. I don't see any visible engravings, no bite marks no arcane symbols. It may be safe. Just to be sure, I'm keeping it downstairs for it to curse someone else in the house. I rise up the stairs into the wide landing. Step, rise, step, rise, step, rise. Before I get to the top, I feel funny. Not sick funny or CURSED funny, but someone-is-in-my-presence funny. Strech my neck to look over my shoulder. Not too far to show interest but far enough to see what's going on---it's my dad handling the bracelet.

I whip my body around and I suppose this gives him a start.

"Hey, just got back from school. I'm pretty tired which is why I didn't want to talk. Found that bracelet in the sidewalk cracks before my skateboard broke. I wouldn't touch it if I were you. Don't know if it's cursed or not."

"Cursed? Bee, this is a genuine Sudanese artifact."

"Huh? When'd you turn into a archeologist? Or are you just nerding out about a 'special interest'"

"Har har. Nothing like that. This area used to be an auction town for slaves shipped from Sudan. Martinsville, Pennsylvania wasn't necessarily known for it's 'clean hands' you know. Gentrification made the area look nicer but its history is still pretty shit-covered."

"Ah, I remember now. I heard about this in history class" No I haven't. I don't even have history. Just want to stop talking to him about some dumb bracelet. "Can it sell for big bucks at a pawnshop?"

"I mean, sure if you'd like to get rid of it. Better to give it to the local museum though! It looks to me like it's made out of elephant tusks. Pretty well preserved too! The wearer must've been some warrior. They only wear these types of jewelry if they're the village's protectors. That's what I've read online anyway. You know how the interweb is though. Could be false."

"Oh wow. Ivory? That's a pretty dirty trade. Don't want to give something like that up to white people who continue to promote the trade. This'll just make the ivory market worse. I may keep it; I just wonder if it's cursed or something. I'll ask a local witchcraft practitioner to check it out tomorrow. Can I have thirty bucks for an appraisal along with an after-school snack?"

"Thirty? What're you going to buy? A salmon dinner with asparagus and steak? I'm not giving you Carabbas money. I can do 18. Enough for some street food."

"Not enough for the appraisal!"

"I'm sure the person will be able to work something out for you. You look twelve. You can play the 'Uwu I'm a baby who has no money, please help me out adult!' card. Or, how about this: pretend to be doing a research project for school on Sudanese slaves in the area. Just act like the school lent you the bracelet for the project"

"So lie?"

"I call it embellishment."

"I see"

I reached into his calloused palm and stole its contents, As a thief, I ran upstairs away from the site of the crime, away from the demons that lurked beneath the stairs. That's customary practice when going up stairs, right? To haul ass like there's no tomorrow like we're that black chick from Scary Movie? Sounds about right. I heaved and ho'd swinging my body back and forth up the stairs. Snaking my way into my room where I burrow for my after-school nap. That's what I tell my parents anyway. What I really do is blaze up in my room and turn on the fan. Gotta keep the smoke minimal. "Such a typical teen". Yeah, whatever. Like your generation wasn't popping ass and drinking bathtub wine when ya'll were young, Get outta here.

It's a good high. Kind where you'd listen to lofi and eat peanuts just for the fun of it. Another bong hit. Satisfying. I'm just leaning back on my sofa; it's firm and uncomfy but when I'm blazed, don't none of it matter. I could lose all of my words...give up....let....go.....

"...."

"What is this energy I'm feeling? So warm and electric. Is this love? Am I so sexually frustrated that I'm in love with a bong? Shit, I fuck with that. That's pretty words. 'I'm in love with my bong'. Such nice love. haha."

I'm hungry and it's four am. The weed has worn off. So tired man. Gotta go downstairs for some chips or something. Hungry to the max. Munchies munchies munchies for the weed monster. What a drug.

I creep down the stairs and up once more. My bare footpads cling to the hardwood and leave sweat prints in the shape of my stompers. During my ascent I leave crumbs. Have the house feeling like a Brother's Grimm story. I satisfy my snack desires as I prepare for school in the next hour.

Running water on my arms. Three passes of lotion on arms and legs. Can't be the ashy black kid that look like they an African living in a dirt house. Ain't able to help the rough patches that coat my body but I can help keep my skin moisturized.

A'ight. Got my fit got my board. Just have to screw the bolt back on and find the bracelet. Shit. Left it upstairs. I'm already late as hell. Rushing up the stairs. Search for the bracelet, find it, get out house. Objectives objectives. I spot it from afar and gravitating toward it, put it gingerly in my pocket. Kindof like someone would with a used tissue. Aren't humans gross? I mean, snot? Bacteria-filled snot? Nasty. Thoughts gone, make brain go from thinking to doing. descending now. Board in arm, door opens with the flick of the wrist and just like that, I'm outty. Deck on ground I put my best foot forward and ram it onto the hard cement to push myself forward. Sorry foot, betrayals sure do suck.

School begins, in class siting in a chair. All day, several hours. Ah, the beloved system at work. Great to know that there are adults who "work" all day by keeping kids seated in a chair. Very progressive, America. Library break? I think so. On my laptop, I pull out webpages on the pocketed---the word reminds me of 'closeted---bracelet. NOW I'm imagining a gay bracelet. hilarious. Great. Typing 'Gay Bracelet' into the search bar and am getting rainbow plastic bands. Ya know, the ones that they sell at Hot Topic during pride month.

"Damn, I'm getting sidetracked" She mutters to herself. Imagine if life were a story being told by some omnipotent force? omnipresent? Think that's the word.

With a bit of typing and a bit of focus. Swift movement of hunched fingers. All is complete, then some. Ogdle: "common of the Azande warriors were pieces to signify their status such as septum tusks, mouth disks, necklaces and other adornments. Bones and tusks were common materials of such articles."

Crazy how this history is hidden. Power was taken from us and buried so deep. We're the originals but every piece of history buried underground. Hidden, secretive Big Bad America. Tale fit for young people all over. Democracy, boo yah.

Train whistle blowing through the air. No train nearby, just the sound of a change in the block. I put it all away, sweep it into my bag. Everything is so messy, so fast. On schooldays like this, it feels hard to even take time to breathe. But I get by since the system wants me to. Think I'm going to skip. Not that the next two classes even matter in the long run. "Such a poor black baby, representing her race so poorly". Yeah yeah. Not the black chick that highschools would put on a recruiting card.

Just another push....door after door falling at my fingertips. The same once that touch the coarse sandpaper of my board. Foot on, foot off. kick once, twice, thrice, now we surf the cement. Now it's time to visit good the kind old black woman who practices witchcraft on dolls. That's what you'd think right? No, they're native and keep old customs within the community. Everyone calls them---agender--- Sage. Nonbinary native americans are actually more common than people think.

Before selling the bracelet to some old rich white drudge of society, I wanna be sure that the bracelet can be cleansed first. I mean. To give away black history to the white man? Hellll no with multiple "l's". It is a pretty long ride there, even on a board. Rumbly road. Pebbles everywhere. Thousands of little rocks acting as smaller wheels vying to fling me off. It's too much.

Mumbling of my own. "Where's gentrification when you need it?" Alright, yes I get it. It's a bad joke. Of course gentrification is bad. Blah blah. Time to pick up my skateboard I guess. Walking on this ground feels just as bad as suicide. Feaful of getting my ass flung into the afterlife. Few yards left....or at least fifty feet. Forty eight, forty five, forty-however-long.

Ended up reaching it after twenty minutes. This trip better be worth it.

"Hi there, Miss Sage. Mind checking out this bracelet for me? I need to check it for a curse or evil energy. My cheap father didn't give me enough for a full appraisal but what can you do with nine dollars?"

"For nine? Not much, doll? What was your name again? You look young, do you have an adult's approval for this?"

"Oh, right. You've got me. It's for a school project. School each student a historical object to research. I figured you'd be able to help me get an 'A' on the project, you know?"

"Your manners are lacking but you seem young, so I'll let you pass. Allow me to take a look at it, if you please?"

God. Full-fledged adults really are something else. I'm only eighteen, not eight. Guess I look younger than I am----

Sage starts burning this wood that's tied with string. Incense maybe?

"That incense?"

"It's a closed practice really, so I don't want to expose anything. But it is a form of incense that I prefer to use to cleanse the spirit of objects and areas."

"Ah, didn't mean to intrude. I'm glad that there are still practices that you keep to yourself. Nothing like the White Man stripping us of our culture."

I got a soft chuckle out of them. Glad that they're able to lighten up a bit.

"..."

"OK, so here's what I've found. There's immense energy here; the power coming off of this thing is tremendous. There's nothing negative about this piece. How'd you ever come across it, again? School, you said? Shame that you'll have to give it back. Something like this would provide a large power surge to spirituals. I'd pay a pretty penny for this."

"Mhm"

"Wonder how the school even came across this. I tell you what. Ask your school where I can find something like this and perhaps I'll give you a little something for your intel, huh?"

"Oh. Sure. I'll just--uh---"

"Right, right, right. The bracelet, I'm sorry. Really, it's more an anklet truly, but--ya know what? I'm sorry. Here ya go"

"...take it from ya. Thanks."

"No problem. Come back with more info on the anklet. That'll be your payment for my time"

Got 'caught in a lie it seems. Don't know how I'll snake my way out of this one.

"Brrrrrzzzzz"

Shit, it's five. My dad's probably looking for me.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter two:

" You skipped class? Bee, I know that you're better than this."

God moms bitch too much. Must be the nursing job coupled with her daily acting gigs that make her so aggro.

"I hear ya, mom. I just had some research to conduct after school..."

"Research? Which kind---?"

"The school kind. I don't know what else you want me to say. I'm sorry for skipping lasses. I got too overzealous and went in over my head. It won't happen again."

"Tskk. Better not. I know that I'm gone almost every hour of the day, but please give me a break, baby. Please just listen to your father and follow the rules. All I ask."

"Mhm, even though he-----you know what, nevermind. Am I dismissed? I have to write up today's school report to type"

Phew. Gonna hit the bong now to calm down from this encounter.

Fuck homework. .... ..... Mhm.

Five minutes passs. Fifteen, twenty. Maybe not minutes. hours? seconds? Time is too funny. With LEDs on, the vibe is fatallll. Still have to open a window to let out the smoke but gosh is this magical.

Mhm magic. Does it even exist? Doubt it. It's all science, right? ....

.....

Right. Like, this anklet. Not real power. Not real magic. Just something people believe in. Like God. It's all faith.

"So, theoretically, I could even put it on my person and nothing would even happen"

"And, so it begins"

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT VOICE" and why am I screaming?

Get off, get off, get off! Something's dripping on me.

"Tears, they're tears"

Oh god, I fucked up. I knew that I shouldn't have smoked that much. Knew it'd bite me in the ass one day. Now I'm fear-crying. I NEVER FEAR CRY.

It's all a dream maybe. Go to sleep, Bee. Just take a weed nap.

"Ba ba bang"

A booming voice raspy from coffee withdrawal.

"Everything OK in there Bee? You're about to be late for school."

Shit!

No time for conversation. Move it move it move it.

"'Cmon Bee. I'll drop you off at school on my way to the college".

Bookbag? Check. Board? Check.

I feel the rush of air against my cheeks as I fly out the door and jump into the getaway car. Fast, but atleast I'm not Furious. Dad and I chat it up all the way until the tires cross the smooth pavement of school grounds. Departing words are exchanged along with "I love you's" and "knock 'em deads".

That familiar sound. Principal as the school conductor. "Chooo". Just as it drones, my body moves to the steps of teens dragging their feet toward their dreaded first classes of the day. The light of morning cradles the marble arches of the school entrance until the sun starts to suck in the morning cold to blow out midday warmth.

"So, who are you, voice? What's your angle? Typing ensues. The screen watches my fleeting pupils; left, right, side, side. Wouldn't be surprised if the computer got whiplash from me. One scroll, two, three. Read a page. Nothing. Another website. Up and down; my fingers are cramped now. Nada. New Oogdle search: "Can I hear voices with weed smoking." Now I have a hit; "yes weed can have you seeing voices. Many aren't even your own. Maybe lay off the TV for a while."

"Thanks 'BouncyNina29'. Quora is one hell of a place." Guess it must've just been the drugs then. Hilarious, me hearing some voice. "Gotta lay off the bong smoking".

"Shhh!!" Some nerd in a striped beanie raised a finger to pursed lips.

Sorry, sorry....Jeez. "My bad" You know what? Maybe I can visit----

the train whistle interrupts my 11pm "ball" with myself. "Dammit". OK. Maybe I can bribe one of the delinquents behind the school to take my place in English. Teacher's not there anyway; the sub won't know the difference. Time to go pay someone off.

"..."

"Here ya go, five dollars."

"A'ight and you said what room that English class in?"

"301 B man. It's at the end of the third floor, right wing. Hard to miss and---remember---my name is Maybel Rhodes. Just fake like you're doing some work and no one will even notice that you're not me. I'm a loner, so, that'll work."

"Mhm hmm. I hear ya Maple"

"MayBEL"

"Yeah, that's what I said"

Scoff. In a smooth curvular motion, I plant my feet on the board and race to Sage's before their store closes.

As I approach, they're putting a silver key in a lock. Gah! The store closed.

"Miss Sage---"

"Gah! Don't do that!! Scaring me and sh--I mean, 'crap'. Scaring me and crap. Look kid, I'm closed right now but we open tomorrow. By then, I'll have the energy to discuss your school's anklet with you. Actually, about that. Do you have intel on where the-----"

"Yes, yes. About that, see...I lied. I didn't really get it from the school. I found it on the ground somewhere."

"'Found it on the ground somewhere' is code for 'I don't have money to pay nor do I have anything else to provide'? Am I getting warmer?"

"Look Miss Sage, I'm really sorry. Hey---look at it this way. I'm in debt to you. If you'll just help me with one teensy little thing, I'll ask my dad for some food money and will give you every cent he gives, alright?"

"Kid, that's not how an adult runs a business. Call what I gave you yesterday a 'freebie'. You're banned from the store. Good night."

Wait. "Wait" Their stride is aimed toward their silver camry. Yeah, I know a camry. Did you expect them to be riding a horse? Racist. Sage acts as though they don't hear and gets into their seat, key in ignition. One twist away before exiting the rocky parking area.

"IT SPOKE TO ME" Yup. That is how I yelled it. All caps, woke some birds up even. Just like in those Loony Toon cartoons. Is that why they're called "Loony Toons" 'cause they're loony cart----

Now they exit their car, slamming the heavy metal door. "What did you say? It...SPOKE...to you? What do you mean 'it'?"

Mhm Mhm. Just prepping my throat. "I wore it on my ankle and I heard a voice that has never existed before in the chasms----"

"Stop the theatrics"

"....Chasms of my mind. It was a male. Around your age in old-timey-ness."

"Har har."

"But it's the truth!" Why won't they believe a magical voice but insist that sage, a random plant, purifies the air?

Their chest contracts and expands in a sigh. Sage closes their eyes for a second. I could practically smell the gears turning. Need some WD-40, really. "Fine. Come by the store Saturday. That way, no one will be in to eavesdrop."

"Deal!"

"And bring actual MULA this time or else we won't have our little discussion". Crud.

"...."

"What are you thinking Sage?" No response. I paid one hundred fifty dollars for this after BEGGING both my folks (who think I'm using it to enroll in some after school sport) to slide me some cash so that I can 'better myself as an individual and actually do something with my time as well'. Lies are no good.

"Shh! Let me think, please!" Sage subverts their attention from me back onto the tarot cards laid in front of them----exactly where the bone anklet (bonklet) lay in silence

Ten minutes pass before Sage gives me the break down. "So, as I've said before. The anklet carries some heavy energy, something similar to passion and justice. Very potent stuff. That's what the spirit realm is saying, anyway. When you were---ahem--- HIGH----"

At this point I look away

"...You honed into that energy and that's why you heard the voice"

"Hm. So, how do I hone in on that energy now? Is it something I can control conscious?"

"Look, I dunno kid. Just, be safe. Meditate beforehand so that you are actually able to chime into the anklet's power source. Don't want to darken the talisman's power or anything."

"Sure, sure" I am literally out the door before Sage utters the second part of their sentence. I buzz with excitement at the opportunity and the best part is? I'm basically a super! Hoo ho. This is awesome.

There's an empty industrial facility near by Hawesome Li Cosmetics. It went bankrupt several decads ago. I'm pretty much the only one who knows about the place. Excellent ground to skate on---smooth as butter. Either way, it's empty and no harm will come to anything or anyone nearby. Any damage that I do will be to the building nearby, which no one cares about anyway. "So, it's just me and you buddy." Blunt in hand, I blaze it up. "Time for the magic to happen."

It's a slow high. The high takes as long as a flame reaching the wooden stick of an incense rod for the high to hit. Upwards of thirty minutes. So I wait. It feels like time warps. So I meditate. So I clear my thinking and reach out to the anklet.

"Mhm, Anklet, tell me who you are?"

"What?? You can hear me?"

"Yeah man. Who are you, why you speaking to me?"

"Why would I tell you? I don't even know yer name"

Tiring. It's like talking to a wall.

"Hey, I heard that!"

"Maybel. My name's Maybel. What's yours? Let's start there."

"Nat."

"Like Nat Turner? The rebel slave?"

"Don't know who that is, this 'Nat Turner'. Just knew my master gave me the name." How progressive. "So...I suspect that I'm dead."

It's not easy news. I get it. But hey, the north won. That's something, right?

"Well, I guess it is....you know, I had a name before all of this...."

"......"

"......??"

"......."

So, are you going to tell me?

"You may call me 'Asim'."

"I'll call you Ase."

Don't call me 'Ase'. Too late, Ase. Hey, how old are you anyway? 12? 11? My name is ASIM, nothing else. Fine, grumpy. ASIM. I'll call you Asim, Asim. Where'd that name come from anyway? What does it mean?

"Let's find out, shall we?"

"...It feels electric! (Boogy woogy woogy). Such power, this wade in...glory."

Are you a God?

"Blasphemy!" Then what are you? How are you able to lay such energy unto me?

Look, I don't know either, alright? But what I do know is...we're both negr---

Black. We don't say that word anymore.

"Black, then... Perhaps I'm connected with you due to our shared skin?" We stopped being related millenia ago. Millenia? Not familar with that word.

"Long, long ago. We don't share any common ancestors. It was all a lie." A lie? You don't believe in a God? I'm moreso spiritual; creation is a possibility not something I'm invested in. I believe in forces of the universe. "But not a God? So, this can't be some spiritual connection. We're too different." So perhaps a soul connection? A link between our spirits.... What else do we have in common? A slave and a black kid?

"Hatred of the white man? Wanting justice against them?"

"War. Destruction"

"Yes."

"No, I don't want that. I'd prefer peace." There may be no PEACE without WAR.

"A lie. Violence is not the answer. Kindness is."

"'Kindness' doesn't resolve problems. 'Kindness' doesn't end racism. 'KINDNESS' was the one that slept at my feet while I was lashed! "

"..."

Asim?

"..."

Andddd you're gone. Great. Well, I'm going to head back home, then. We can hang out again tomorrow. "Head back" means leave. All right, see you.

#fiction #original story #writer #writing #tumblr #writers on tumblr #BLM #Politics #Teenagedom #Teen angst #superhero #comicbook writing

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curious-minx · 4 years

Text

A ranking of four 200 Hundredth Episodes: Bob’s Burgers’ recent victory lap stands above the rest

The Bicentennial. How many among us get to be a part of something that get’s broadcasted for over 200 episodes? In the world of animated sitcoms it is a small, Fox dominated burrow. Bob’s Burgers is the latest series to become bestowed with this particular honor, and is possibly the best of the Fox line-up to do so. Family Guy’s 200th episode, Season 11 - Episode 12, is the only Fox series to be given a full blown on-air anniversary treatment. The episode is a Valentine themed Brian and Stewie lark and like all of the other entries on this list celebrates it’s 200th episode anniversary in a more casual, blithe fashion. Family Guy is the only show Fox has bothered to air an entire half hour special, but months before the actual airing of the 200th episode in Februrary. I am deliberately skipping over Family Guy and South Park’s 200th episodes. In the former’s stead I chose to watch American Dad’s 200th episode, because McFarlane is such a titan in adult animation that deserves recognition. The South Park episode is too exhausting for me to get into. South Park’s 200th episode, Season 14 - Episode 05, is the one that evoked the wraith of a New York based Radical Muslim organization that would soon be “shut down” (i.e. members arrested) a few months after the episode aired on April, 2010. The 200th episodes of South Park and the Simpsons are the only two series to have received Emmy nominations, and in Simpsons case a win, due to their 200th episodes. Here’s hoping for Bob’s Burgers to get a similar recognition, because I think its 200th episode is pretty special and straight to the point.

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1.) Bob’s Burgers - “Bob Belcher and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Kids”

Out of all the 200 episodes is episode the most consciously in conversation with itself. The 200th episode has been treated with a reasonable amount of respect with The A.V. Club bringing their Bob’s Burgers coverage out of retirement and Variety and Salon also got into the mix. Gotta be honest a part of me over at The Curious Minx would prefer if the Bob’s Burgers recap lane was kept on the narrower side, but on the other hand this is a fabulous series that should be written about by as many different publications.

In a recent tired and routine zoom Variety interview (https://variety.com/2020/tv/news/bobs-burgers-remote-recording-200th-episode-1234830796/) BB’s creator Loren Bouchard touches upon how this 200th episode is supposed to serve as something of a pilot. An episode so fully realized that even if you are someone with no active bank of knowledge about the Bob’s Burgers minutiae of the Belcher family dynamics and still enjoy this episode as much as a full blown series fan. The episode is written by Steven Davis, a producer and writer with an extensive amount of episode writing and producing credits on Bob’s Burgers. The quality of a Bob’s Burgers script in the pandemic era is becoming more relevant, because of the diminished role of improv, and this episode definitely feels crafted by a creative team fully in touch and aware of their characters and how to put them in satisfying situations.

Compared to any of the other animated sitcom families, the Belchers are noticeably the more lower middle class. There is a pervading sense of an overall struggle for survival and prosperity that is cooked right into the series pilot debut. Season 1 - Episode 01 “Human Flesh” sets the tone of the series, despite the overall writing and characters being sharper, the stakes have not changed much. Bob’s Burger’s like any American restaurant not under the protective aegis of a Big Franchise is in a state of perpetual turmoil. In the pilot episode the difficulties of running a standard American restaurant are made even more complicated by dysfunctional family hijinks.

The 200th episode differs from the pilot in one dramatic way and that is the presence of the extended Belcher family member Teddy. In the original pilot Teddy is completely absent, whereas in the 200th episode Teddy’s role as surrogate family member is made even most distinct by having Teddy being invested above and beyond in helping save his pal’s Bobby’s restaurant. The return of the ornery and quirky Health Inspectors Ron and Hugo are serving as the most obvious form of echoing of the pilot. I highly recommend rewatching the pilot after viewing this episode, because I had completely forgotten that the Belcher’s saving grace is that Hugo and Linda were once in a relationship together. The pilot is noticably very contained setting wise, focusing exclusively in and around the Belcher family restaurant. Whereas, the 200th episode explores more settings with the Belcher children going across town to find a replacement for Bob’s broken oven part, an oven that they feel they are entirely to blame for destroying. A couple of celebrity guests Stephanie Beatriz and SNL’s Kyle Mooney that true to Bob’s Burgers spirits are usually just playing characters of little to no consequence. Unlike the other Fox family in this list that really leans in on having celebrities playing themselves, the best celebrity guest appearances on Bob’s Burgers tend to be the most anonymous, and Kyle Mooney’s put upon hardware store clerk is a great example of this.

Finally, I’d be remiss if I didn’t dwell on the satisfying Linda contribution of the episode. Linda makes the critical set piece that ignites the restaurant fire. Linda’s gnarly mermaid sculpture is a great visual metaphor for the series. Especially when the Mermaid Statue is used to build up a very well constructed song-based gag. The whole episode made me feel really good about the state of the series and especially the Movie (And Loren Bouchard backs this up by giving interviewers the impression that the film’s delay has only improved its quality). As far as 200 episodes of long running animated sitcoms go, you certainly can’t go wrong with this one!

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2. King of the Hill - Hank’s Bully

By all accounts the most unremarkable episode on this list. An episode that also has a trollish spirit that gets a sadistic glee in tormenting the fuddy duddy Hill patriarch. This is the also the 200th episode with the lowest stakes, the least of a spectacle, and most unassuming 200th episode. While trying to research anything of note to include in my review of the episode all I could find was this reddit post (https://www.reddit.com/r/KingOfTheHill/comments/bpl235/hanks_bully_was_near_impossible_to_watch/) where a user is criticizing the way in which Hank it mistreated. When I was rewatching this episode my partner also found this episode hard to watch and sympathized with Hank’s plight against a Clifford-like malicious imp of a hateful child who’s sole purpose is to make the lives of everyone else around him more difficult.

To me what most stands out about this episode is the fantastic direction by longtime King of the Hill animator, former Bob’s Burgers animator, and current Rick and Morty director, Kyoung Hee Lim. A seemingly badass woman working in a field that is not particularly kind to women or to women of color. I am pretty shocked that no one in all of her years as a director on some pretty important shows has brought her up or did an interview piece on her. Maybe this is something the good folks at The Curious Minx can aspire to? I am definitely going to be taking a further dive into the 22 episodes of King of the Hill that she directed and revisit the 15 episodes of Bob’s Burgers to see if I can discern what makes a Kyoung Hee Lim episode.

One major ploy detail that I noticed in this episode, a detail that is also oddly prevalent on the other two 200th episodes, is the trash talk. And by that I do mean literal trash talk. The B-plot of this episode is what makes the episode pop for me in that the pairing of Dale and Peggy is a really successful one. The episode finds Dale frustrated with the Arlington Waste department and how they won’t take his refrigerator full of dead squirrels and his freeze full of dead crow. Dale then takes advantage of this dead blessing in disguise by getting into the world of competitive taxidermy with Peggy’s creative eye complimenting Dale’s gruesome technical prowess. Both of these characters operate on such an oddly similar wave lengths that watching the two of them embark on a taxidermy journey together was strangely touching and fun to watch. And I am a vegan that feels weird about killing animals in video games, but the ending visual gag of the episode is especially inspired. My one complaint is that the episode is severely lacking in Bobby Hill. Probably because I just recently finished watching Better Things and basically want every show to be the Pamela Adlon show all the time.

/////

3.) American Dad - “The Two Hundred”

Visually and conceptually this 200th episode really impressed me. As previously mentioned at the start of the post, I am not someone that is particularly warm to the McFarlane brand of comedy, but American Dad really is where he saves his best work for. This 200th episode got the complete opposite treatment of Family Guy. Airing on a Monday night on TBS this episode was pretty much given a shrug, but that does not tamper down any of its ambitions. The whole episode is basically a pastiche of Apocalyptic Dystopian alternative timeline tropes centering around an alone and traumatized by his past Stan. The episode has one of the most clever ongoing visual gags I have seen on a show where flash backs are teed up by Stan’s ridiculous new post apocalyptic tattoos. The core family and ancillary characters of American Dad are all given terrific moments to shine in this heightened post apocalyptic hellscape, and the key to any enduring series success if whether or not you can tell that the creatives involved respect and enjoy the characters that they are writing for. This being a McFarlane project there are a couple of embarrassing lines of dialogue from the show’s respective gay and Black characters and an over indulgence on Rodger based humor, but overall this 200th episode left me with more appreciation for this series as a whole. I will still always make sure to appreciate whenever a long running creative property takes stylistic swings and risks.While there is nothing particularly fresh or novel about a cannibal laden post apocalyptic wasteland this 200th episode managed to find some find fun character beats to subvert tropes or double down on them. The visual of a consistently on the move runaway train that is also mysteriously always on fire was also especially well executed. This episode could easily have been a series finale if the series hadn’t already played around with alternative timelines like in their Christmas specials.

This episode also features more trash talk! One of Stan’s tattooed regrets revolves around Francine failing to get the trash picked up on trash day because Stan had purposely neglected to take it out. This rather odd pattern is about to make a whole lot of sense with the fourth and my least favorite 200th episode by the Simpsons.

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4.) The Simpsons - Trash of the Titans

How many more times can I impress upon you that the 200th episode of your animated sitcom is an an occasion for trash talk? One more time. This 200th episode of The Simpsons is by far the most trash centric 200th episode of them all. The first animated adult sitcom to get over the 200th episode hump, the 200th episode “Trash of the Titans” has some fun real-world trivia attached to it, but other than that this is one of the lesser “Golden Era” Simpsons offerings by a long shot.

My primary source on contention with the episode lies in the direction Homer takes in most of the episode. A 2016 Uproxx (https://uproxx.com/media/simpsons-donald-trump-hillary-clinton/) article gained traction and a Wikipedia citation by comparing Homer’s antics to that of possible former rising Dictator Donald Trump. The episode involves Homer acting at his absolute most abhorrent in an election to boot, and his behavior in this episode is some of the most irredeemable Homer has ever been. The article oddly neglects to make note of the fact that Homer in this episode also makes similar slights against Mexico, referring it to an inherently “dirtier” country. The episode ends on a truly groan inducing aged as fine as old socks in the cheese drawer with a crying Native American gag. Ah 1998 when we could pretend that the Crying Native American commercial was just silly social commentary and not racial minstrelsy.

There is also one other instance that didn’t sit well with me and that’s when Homer is seen physically assaulting a woman working the booth at a U2 concert. I could handle the bullish descent into crooked politician, but watching Homer violently push a woman out of the way felt out of place. A retread of all the growth and development we’ve seen him go through over the course of 200 episodes. Of the other three patriarchs discussed on this list a Homer Simpson centric plot tend to not work as well for me especially if you compare him to the other animated TV fathers.

The episode also features two celebrity guest spots. One made by Steve Martin who does a good job becoming more or less unrecognizable as the original Springfield Sanitation Commissioner Ray Patterson. The other celebrity guest appearance is more of an ill-portent of signs to come with U2 playing themselves. Whenever a celebrity is playing themselves on The Simpsons it usually does not work out. Not everyone can be used to advance a plot as seamlessly as Barry White. Although it is funny, funny in a “oh, we were so much simpler” sort of way that this episode garnered controversy and a ban on UK television over U2 and Mister Burns’ use of the word, “wanker.” Flash forward to 2009 and Bono is once again throwing around his favorite cheeky pejorative this time in reference to fellow earnest bland frontman Chris Martin (https://www.music-news.com/news/UK/24741/Read).

Resting Wanker Face

The other fun factoid about this episode once again is not related to the show, but the show’s influence spilling out into the real world. In the late 80s and throughout the 90s, Adams Mine was an abandoned pit located somewhere in Ontario situated in a term I’m learning for the first time, the “Canadian Shield.” An exactly similar proposal is made by Homer Simpson during his reign of Sanitation Commissioner. This sweeping of trash under the rug does culminate into a satisfying visual gag as a climax that feels like a Garbage Pail Kid/Toxic Avenger version of Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs. More bizarrely and unfortunate, this episode also aired a week after the passing of Linda McCartney. How messed up is that? Couldn’t they just have waited at the end of the season or at least on an episode that doesn’t involve wallowing in filth?

The episode features another developing bad habit in terms of the inclusion of songs and song parodies. There is virtually no connection to Willy Wonka in this episode other than the fact that both “Candy Man” and “Trash Man” have share a similar pronoun. Unlike the use of songs in Bob’s Burgers where they tend to be unique to the character’s reaction to dramatic consequence, on the Simpsons it’s more often than not a a song for the sake of a song. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, but why not go for a joke about parodying real musical trash titans, The Cramps, or even trash up a U2 song? On the episode’s Wikipedia entry in the Production section Matt Groening is quoted to saying that the visual gag of a department store sporting the slogan, “Over a Century Without a Slogan,” wasted a lot of man hours. So much effort and reach for a joke with a fraction of a minimal of pay off is essentially the Simpsons ethos in one visual gag.

Once again, it bears repeating that this episode is also rewarded for an Emmy. If you break down the episode as starting off as a satire of Holiday Commercialism with the creation of the cynical Love Day holiday and ending the episode as a foreboding parable about the very real ecological repercussions of improper waste management. This clearly sounds like classic Simpsons reverse engineering management. Instead this is a classic case of an episode of the Simpsons being more interesting to think about than it is to actually watch. This is also the 200th episode that least honors its central cast of characters. Marge and Lisa are both afforded meager moments of wisdom and decency, but Bart is more or less even more irrelevant to the plot than Bobby Hill was on his 200th episode.

As for today it seems like the only Simpsons anniversary that will likely rouse any more attention it’s way will be the 1,000th episode.. Think how much more trash we as a collective species will have made by the time that milestone roils around!

////

In Conclusion:

When you start to make 200 episodes of anything the one feeling that seems to creep up is one of, “taking out the trash,” or you’re making art out of trash. Trash being a metaphor for the entire medium of Television. The TV market is an ever growing landfill, one of America’s Rapiest Dads made a whole cartoon about kids living and learning life lessons in a junk yard. So much of Television is only a means of mass marketing ground up pieces of detritus. Then you’re supposed to be grateful that your detritus gets to be a bumper for advertisements and the occasional merchandising. You’re an adult, you’re not supposed to take cartoons seriously. They are empty calories, brain noise, and at best background noise. Yet they are the only types of shows that can consistently manage to get over well over the 200 episode mark. At least back before the Netflix business model of show’s only deserving 1.5 seasons.

Bob’s Burgers is reaching its 200th episode in an unfathomable media landscape, one that is completely demolished and in the process of being rebuilt from the aftermath of the coronavirus. The 2020s could be a turning point for animation going forward, animation is a severely grueling and technically difficult sector. This newfound interest in the medium may finally be the financial boost and support that it dearly needs in order to properly pay artists for their work. The creators of these series may not think of what they do as art and to keep themselves afloat have to think of the act of bringing an animated sitcom into the world as necessary as taking out the trash. Our trash is a mirror. Inside the landfill we see our own morals and values reflected right back at us. Bringing forth life means a lot of shit. With every year you keep an infant human alive that means (x) amount of disposable diapers piled up. I suggest we make like the Belcher children and try to salvage our trash, put a wig on our trash, put a crop top on our trash, paint some lashes on your trash, because we’re all in the end up going to be put into the ground (beef).

#Bob's Burgers #The Simpsons #American Dad #King Of the Hill #TV #TV Review #TV Series #Animation #Cartoon #Anniversary #200

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siriusist · 4 years

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tagged by @anathenma WOO GIRL <3

rules: tag 10 followers you want to get to know better

name: Lauren

gender: Female

star sign: Virgo Sun || Leo Moon || Leo Ascendent, which basically means I have the usually quiet reserved personality of an analytical, organised virgo on the fact of things, am usually the goofy, chill friend amongst my friends, and don’t like to take anyone’s shit, but if I am disrespected, I’m a sensitive six foot flower and withdraw from the world until I can get over it. xD I don’t like conflict.

height: 183cm/6 feet

age: 27 (YIKES XD)

wallpaper on my phone: (I had to check XD) A calendar of May 2020 stylistically arranged around ribbons

house: Slytherin

ever crush on a teacher: Both my parents and my uncle are teachers and consequently I knew every teacher in my school as actual human people and not ‘crushes’ growing up. So no. XD

coolest halloween costume: I went as the Starbucks logo one year when I was eight, a gigantic Lady Luck die one year with a top hat covered in poker chips and cards. I had some good ones I made: I was creative as fuck when I was 9-11 especially, and I had to be, because I was already around 5′7 and people assumed I was just some weirdo dressing up to get candy (Hearing ‘AREN’T YOU A LITTLE OLD TO BE TRICK OR TREATING’ at eleven CRUSHED me XD)

Favorite 90s tv show:

Okay. So there’s one’s I watched actually as a child of the 90s, and ones that were just always ON in the 90s that I ended up watching. It’s debatable whether these are actually good NOW. XD

That being said, the background ones were Saved By the Bell (ZACH MORRIS IS TRAAAAassssh~~), Boy Meets World, Seinfeld, Everybody Loves Raymond.

As a kid, I loved the Aladdin Animated Series, The Hercules Animated Series, CHIP AND DALE RESCUE RANGERS (Which didn’t really hold up sadly but still has the best theme song of all time, fight me), and Timon and Pumbaa.

One I rarely caught but really liked was All That, The Wonder Years, Sabrina the Teenage Witch- occasionally Fresh Prince.

Out of all of these, I still have a super fond spot for Saved By the Bell, especially with the ‘Zach Morris is Trash’ series on Youtube (Seriously, go watch it. It’s fucking hilarious and basically breaks down how much of a serial killer in the making Zach Morris is XD). The clothing is ridiculous and no one really dressed like that in the early 90s outside of commercials and TV (unfortunately). Maybe one shoddy item out of the bunch. Meanwhile Saved by the Bell is like LETS PUT IT ALL ON. XD It was terrible once they got to college, but it was stupid and fun and made me feel ‘cool’ watching it because I was like three and being like, “YEAH, IT’S BRIGHT AND THESE PEOPLE ARE COOL AND I CAN FOLLOW THE PLOT. I’M MATURE.” XD It’s literally still the only one of these I actively watch now in the form of Zach Morris is Trash, so I’ll go with it. xD

Last kiss: Never had a consensual kiss. Make of that what you will. xD

Have you ever been stood up: Nope.

Favourite pair of shoes:

I have terrible plantar fasciitis from sports, so I’m a shoe snob, and have to have properly fitting/constructed shoes. It depends on what I’m doing in them, really. I got a pair of trail running shoes for trail running during COVID, but they’re not the most aesthetically pleasing. I’d say the best mixture between comfort and style are either a good ol’pair of black ankle boots with a slight heel (so I can be 6′2 and intimidate people with my height muhahahaha), or more practically on a day to day basis, I have a pair of Reeboks that are 90s-styled with pastel pink and blue triangles on the side. They’re pretty dope. xD

have you ever been to vegas: No, but my parents have. Basically, they said you tire of shopping after two days, and then you’re just stuck inside hotels and shopping malls there. If you’re not a gambler, drinker, or have a ton of money to splash out on stage shows, I don’t think it’s particularly worth going.

favorite fruit: Mango or raspberry, but they’re super-expensive in the land of Maple Syrup so I usually don’t get them any other way other than frozen in smoothies.

Favourite book:

I could never choose a favourite book. It’s literally like choosing between children. It’s my microcosmic version of Sophie’s Choice. xD Tasteless joke aside, it’d honestly depend on the occasion. There’s a huge difference between entertainment reading, literary exploits, and educating yourself through books as a whole.

My ‘plane’ book (which I’m terrible at flying, so that was a joke), as in, an easy, fun, instantly rereadable read to read on the plane when I used to have super long fifteen hour flights to Australia, was always Mario Puzo’s ‘The Godfather,’ because I also had a huge crush on Michael Corleone.

But it’s also not the ‘best’ book and literally spends an inordinate and honestly disturbing amount of time on the fact that this poor woman in the story (which thankfully in the film, it gets cut down), but the bridesmaid Sonny Corleone has sex with, and how you see his wife indicating his ‘size’?

THAT’S LITERALLY AN ENTIRE SUBPLOT OF THIS BROAD’S STORY I SHIT YOU NOT BECAUSE NOTHING IS ‘BIG’ ENOUGH FOR HER AFTER HIM AND THEN YOU FIND OUT SHE HAS A MEDICAL CONDITION AND GOOD FOR HER SHE’S ABLE TO FIND LOVE AGAIN BUT WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK MARIO PUZO XD IT WAS A LOT OKAY.

(Footnote: I also suffered through his horrific sequels because I love Michael Corleone and will take him in any form he comes in, even horrifically written Sicilian backhill exploits that were never told to us in the original book and were clearly just written because Puzo needed another pay check but I digress.)

Horrific subplots aside, I really enjoy The Godfather for its sheer pulpiness. The book is essentially what Andrew Lloyd Weber is to musicals. xD (Yes, I come with musical theatre burns. Fight me.)

In terms of a piece of literature that I think is amazingly well done? Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe, or Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury.

Stupidest thing you ever done:

Um, maybe when I was at Cambridge I tried to dye my roots to match the rest of my ‘blonde’ hair at the time, and it turned out bright orange? And because it’s Cambridge, they had this super-strict attendance policy, so I was literally trying not to hyperventilate because it was running close to class (which was across campus) and I was trying to find some way to remedy my hair without it falling out/ someone asking about it. So, I grabbed a toque-cap-thing despite it being literally one of the hottest summer on record in the UK (It was like 35 degrees, it was MENTAL), and had to sprint to class all the way on the other side of campus from my college dodging dodgy tourist groups blocking the sidewalk while I went. Then when I sat down inside, I had to be weirdly rude and wear my hat inside the lecture hall even though the professor was looking at me (it was a specialised program in German Literature) like, “Are you going to take that shit off?” xD THEN I tried to dye it back to brown, and it literally looked like mud mixed with a runny egg had exploded on the top of my head; it was AWFUL. XD So FINALLY I did my research and found a salon, but by THAT point I had done 250 pounds worth of damage to my hair (WHICH IS LIKE 400 DOLLARS CANADIAN AT THE TIME), and I almost had a heart attack and thanked my lucky stars that I had money put away so I could give my parents the ‘parent price’ when they asked why they hadn’t seen me on FaceTime or Skype for like, three weeks, and I replaced my face with a photo of John Cleese from Fawlty Towers, which they tease me about to this day. xD

The other dumbest thing I ever said was when I was so desperate for friends in grade six when I moved to a new school (and because being American was ‘cool’ at the time, apparently), I told everyone I was a dual citizen because my mother LITERALLY GAVE BIRTH TO ME ON THE BORDER CROSSING WHAT. XD And bless this poor bespectacled girl named Mara (who was actually a little class friend of mine), who just said timidly in the back, “That’s not how citizenship works.” xD It basically came out of attempting to be cool and failing, but I’m still SO embarrassed about THAT one that I’d never admit it to ANYONE besides shouting it out into the Tumblr black hole. xD I’m still embarrassed to THIS DAY.

All time favorite shows:

I’ll go for the original run of The Twilight Zone, which has some schmaltzy episodes (I’m really not a fan of any of the episodes entirely dedicated to the Space Race or the weird cowboy fanaticism of the fifties/ sixties, or anything that’s overtly like “ALIENS DID IT SO THERE”), but I LOVE their psychological horror episodes or Dystopian episodes. It’s when Rod Serling’s writing and narrative voice is the strongest and most prophetic, and the twists are usually the best. Other shows have tries to imitate it, or reboot it, but I really think the original, due to Rod Serling’s unmatchable voice, in every sense of the word. There’s lists of some of the greatest episodes, but I remember LOVING the episode ‘A Stop at Willoughby.’ The twist literally made me clap my hands in horror and delight, it was amazing. xD

Other than that? Off the top of my head, Mad Men and Band of Brothers, even though I haven’t rewatched either in ages.

last movie you saw in theaters:

Oh God, before all THIS hit? Probably Rise of Skywalker. I get agoraphobic and itchy if a movie theatre is too busy, and we only have really pokey sort of ones nearby that you’re guaranteed to see someone you went to high school with (terrible), so now that I can properly drive I go out to the big redneck theatre out in the boonies. I miss living in Montreal though, because when you live in a big city like that downtown (and can actually afford to live there), you could see blockbuster movies at like ten in the morning. xD Which would be AMAZING because I’d go to see any of the early Avengers/Marvel movies when they opened, the day of opening, and it was literally me, one old man who fell asleep halfway through and sat near the back, and maybe an elderly couple on a morning date to the movies. xD I get really annoyed with obnoxious movie-goers, and I’m really picky about just being completely absorbed in the movie, so I tend not to go unless I’m guaranteed that space.

tagging: Anyone who wishes to tag me back so I can learn about them <3

#meme #well god this was embarrassing #still hope you found something of interest in there though xD #personal #I indented the longer answers so this was somewhat cohesive

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shanastoryteller · 6 years

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have some queer writing tips because i’m fucking tired

i have just scrolled by yet another one of those “how to write queer characters if you’re straight” posts and they fucking exhaust me. because they’re almost always just a list of things not to do, and most of it is fucking wrong. and they always put in this caveat ‘you can do these things if you’re not straight :)’ and it makes me want to flip a table, because guess what, i don’t look up an author’s sexuality because i don’t give a fuck, and someone shouldn’t be required to out themselves in order explore certain themes.

so let’s go through some common advice that i fucking hate, and what i, personally, would suggest instead. i am one person, and do not speak for the whole community, just like no one person of any group ever speaks for the whole community. note that i use gay as an umbrella term for not straight

bad rule: don’t have a gay character have close friends who are all straight

in my group of seven very close friends, i am the only one who’s not straight. the idea that is is unrealistic and ridiculous and means the character is a throwaway is stupid. i went to a notoriously gay school and have lived in multiple major cities, so it’s not like i lacked opportunity. it just turned out that all my really close friends are straight. it happened to me, it’s happened to others, sometimes it just happens.

better rule: don’t have your gay character be the only gay character in the story.

what is unrealistic is when the gay character is the only gay character. just because they don’t hang out with other gay people, and so other gay people aren’t in most of the story, doesn’t mean they don’t exist. the pretty lady at the bus stop is waiting for her girlfriend, someone’s dad is gay, two girls on a date past them in the street, the history teacher talks about his husband, they’re playing a game of spin the bottle and a girl plays on both sides because she’s attracted to multiple genders. unless part of the queer character’s story is that they feel like the only gay person on the planet, they shouldn’t be portrayed the only gay person on the planet.

bad rule: never kill gay characters

sometimes, people die. we are all so, so sick and tired of watching ourselves die on screen and in books, but the idea that we don’t die is silly.

better rule: try and only kill gay characters in the same percentages as straight characters

i think it’s important to think in percentages rather than just numbers. the thing is if you have eleven major characters in a story, and only one of them is gay, and then you kill them and one straight character? you have killed 100% of the gay characters, and only 10% of the straight ones.

so say you have two gay characters, and eight straight characters. if you kill one gay character, and four straight characters, you have killed 50% of the gay characters, and 50% of the straight characters.

think about the movie mad max. there was a lot of women in that movie, and so when some women died, it didn’t feel like the end of of the world. because there were more women. in your writing, don’t let death come off as a “punishment” for being gay. if death happens, it should happen indiscriminately. so if you’re doing a dystopian novel, and lots of people are dying, but you’re killing off a much, much higher percentage of gay characters then straight, it doesn’t look great.

this is not a perfect system, but hopefully by keeping it in mind you avoid falling into the trope where the gay characters always die.

bad rule: don’t show problematic gay relationships, fighting within a relationship, or characters who have “too much” sex

we are not all pure uwu babies, and every time i see someone telling people to portray us this way i want to scream. we have shitty relationships, we’re shitty people, we like having sex, and some of us like having it a lot. who we’re attracted to doesn’t change the fact that we’re people, and even people with the best of intentions are far from perfect.

better rule: do not reduce characters to their faults, or to their sex lives

if all we’re told about a character is that they’re gay and in a shitty relationship, or that they’re gay and have a lot of sex, then those two things become muddled together. write well rounded characters!

first of all, sometimes people in perfectly healthy relationships fight, or have disagreements, and accidentally hurt each other. there is nothing wrong with portraying this, because most relationships are’t one hundred percent happy and peaceful all the time.

moving on. yes, the roommate brings home someone new every night and has loud sex with guys and gals and whoever, but they also bake pies and hate the taste of cilantro and have a boss they like and coworkers they want to fling into the sun.

he’s too controlling, and he looks through his partner’s phone, and he gets mad when he doesn’t know where his bf is. his bf isn’t financially stable enough to leave him, but hates feeling constrained. it’s just not going to work. he's an exec at a hedge fund, bf is a barista, he hates his job, bf loves his, they have mutual and different friends, they watch movies, and he went straight to college, and bf spent a year roadtripping instead.

bad people are still people. don’t reduce people to bad and gay. bad and gay and a shitty boss and rich and a sore loser gives your audience more to work with, and then you haven’t drawn a clear line between gay and abusive. as long as you’re writing well rounded and complex characters to begin with, this shouldn’t be a problem.

you should take care when portraying sensitive subjects, and do your best to portray it well. but that’s true regardless of the gender or sexuality of your characters.

i would note that having only abusive/abused gay characters is probably not great. remember, gay people are everywhere! try and include them in small, casual ways in other parts of your story if possible. this is easier with longer fiction, but if you’re doing a shorter piece where the only characters are the couple in question, then it’s not option, and that’s okay too. just try and be careful that you’re giving people more to work with than gay and abuse.

if you want to portray happy and pure love, that’s totally fine!! sometimes all we want is to sink into a story of happiness and comfort. but if you don’t want to write that, and want to explore darker themes, that’s okay too.

bottom line:

giving people a list of things not to write isn’t helping them to write better. it’s just telling them not to write.

also, don’t demand that authors out themselves to you so you can “decide” if they’re allowed to write about certain things. either something is poorly written and offensive, or it isn’t, and i don’t get to know personal and private details of people in order to decide if they’re allowed to do something. it’s none of my fucking business, or yours.

as writers, we write about things that we’ve never experienced and will never experience. the only way to get better at things is to keep doing them. will you mess up and write something insensitive or upsetting?

probably.

i sure have. but the answer here is to learn how to do it better, to be more authentic in our stories, and be willing to listen and learn from people who know more than we do.

the answer is to write more and write better, not to not write at all.

#writing advice #me: hates dealing with drama #also me: has had Enough #look none of us are perfect and we're all learning #i hate the whole idea of having to write something perfectly true because we all have different experiences so that's fucking impossible #and also because it sounds like anti bs in a new hat #i very much hope this doesn't cause drama but that's Unlkely

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purplesurveys · 5 years

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494

Do you own a pink toaster? No, I don’t. I probably won’t get one either even though I like the color pink. Do you live by yourself? No. I still live with my family at home and would probably live like this until a couple years into my first job when I can afford to move out. Do you shower everyday? If I have to be in school, yes. But on my off days I let myself skip a day. Is English your native language? No. I was raised in a Filipino-speaking home, so I learned English in school, by reading, or from cartoons. Do you like cleaning? If it doesn’t feel like a chore.

Who is your favorite character from Harry Potter? Do you hear any music now? Nope, I just hear my really loud aircon. Do you watch PewDiePie? He’s my go-to channel when I’m upset and need lots of cheering up, but right now I’m not as updated with his material. Are you married? Nope, that’s quite a long way from here my friend hahaha. Do you like Despacito? I never really liked songs I couldn’t understand. Do you drink coffee? As much as I can. It’s my bloodstream. Do you know any Swedish words? Only cuss words because PewDiePie used to swear in Swedish in his old videos lmfao. He did also use to say “sluta,” which I think he translated to “stop” or “stop it.” Maybe @badsurveyshit can help me out! Hahaha. Do you play Pokemon Go? Only when it was like crazy popular three years ago. My phone died soon after that and when I got a new one, I couldn’t be bothered to revisit it. Do you think you're fat? No, but I think I’m too thin. Did you ever color your hair pink? I haven’t and I dunno if I would. Do you press Caps Lock or hold Shift for capital letters? I do Caps Lock. I never did get used to just holding Shift. Do you own any pop figures? Nope. But I’ve given it as a gift. All of the possible spaces in my room are just kinda filled up at the moment and I’m not sure if a Funko will stand out here. Do you like Dr. Phil? I like his show, mostly because PewDiePie will sometimes do reaction videos to ridiculous bratty guests from the show. Do you prefer to be inside or outside? Depends on my mood. I can be both, really. Do you drink energy drinks? No. They smell like pure sugar and it’s super sticky and I feel like my body would implode if I drink a bottle lmao. Do you eat meat? Yep. Do you need to do the dishes? Nope. Do you have any posters in your room? I have one. But I also have several frames of Audrey Hepburn and one painting that Gabie bought me me, and another painting that she herself made. How old were you in 2010? I was 12. Are you scared of clowns? I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen one IRL...they always seem to be like a Western media thing. We don’t have circuses or anything like that, and parents don’t usually get clowns for their kids’s parties. Who is your favorite youtuber? Probably Shane Dawson because he’s so goddamn versatile and is great at being it. He’s managed to evolve from comedy skits to watching things explode in the microwave and making giant pumpkin spice milkshakes to explainers for conspiracy theories and alien sightings to casual vlogs to full fucking length documentaries about real-life people and said conspiracies. Do you have any subscribers on YouTube? No. I don’t want to have any, I just use my channel so that YouTube knows what material I’m into haha. Do you believe in ghosts? I do. Do you salt your popcorn? Yessssss. The more the better. Do you like McDonalds? I can take it or leave it. They have a really boring menu. Do you have a Steam account? I don’t. Is the sun shining right now? It’s a little cloudy at the moment but I’m sure it’ll peak out in a minute or two. What time is it? 8:59 AM while I’m typing this down. How much battery do you have on your phone? 16%, oops. What device are you using while taking this survey? I’m always on my laptop when taking surveys. Do you brush your teeth everyday? Yes, but I’ll occasionally forget. Do you bite your nails? Only if I’m starting to get increasingly anxious or overwhelmed over something. Do you like gaming? I like *watching* people play (which stems back to my childhood when ALL the boys and men in the house knew how to play video games and it would always be a bonding thing for us), but I can’t figure out video games myself to save my life. What's the first word that comes to your mind if I say: Boop! Hannah Hart. What month is it? It’s already July, what the hell? Do you like reading books? I used to...I think I mostly got disinterested because there was a time when the popular books that kept coming out were all fantasy or dystopian, e.g. Percy Jackson, I Am Number Four, The Hunger Games. By the time the more IRL-based fictional works came out, like the John Green works, reading had already become a little boring for me. Have you ever played Five Nights at Freddy's? Nope. And I don’t think I would want to lol. Watching people play it is enough. Do you like horror movies? Love them, it used to be my favorite genre until the industry just kept making a bunch of remakes of already-great horror flicks. Is your favorite animal a dog? Yes. Do you have a pet cat? My sister does, but since she’s living in a dorm for college all of us have at home have to take care of her. Do you like chicken nuggets? Meh, I can also take it or leave it. I like chicken fingers better. What color is the ceiling in the room? White. Do you own a car? I drive one, but my parents bought it. What age do you turn on your next birthday? 22. Do you like religion? Not really. Have you ever tried Akinator? Yes. I used it a whole lot when it was new. Tbh I’d still pass by it sometimes these days if I was in the mood for it to guess what I was thinking. Do you like Grand Theft Auto V? Yes, there’s always something to do on that game haha.

Are you wearing socks right now? I am not, but I probably will later when I head out to school.

Do you have a headache? Not right now. Do you cry a lot? Hahahaha yep, I really do. Can you twerk? I never tried. Do you like dabbing? Nope. Name four things in the room. An electric fan, a pack of microwavable popcorn, a plate of sisig, and a glass of water. Can money buy you happiness? It definitely could. What was the last country you visited? China. Do you like fishing? I’ve never fished before. Do you want to be famous? It’s a nice thought, but I don’t actively want it. Do you have any siblings? Yes. Have you ever been to a funeral? No. I’ve been to wakes though. Do you have a Spotify account? I have my own, but I stopped using the one meant for me because Gabie lets me use her premium account. Have you heard of Blizzard Entertainment? I’ve heard of it, but I don’t know much about them. Do you drink milk? I can’t drink milk. Are you tired? A little bit, yes. Do you like bananas? I don’t like fruits. Are you addicted to anything? Nope. Are you in love? Sure. What's the temperature outside? It looks like it’ll be humid today. Do you like snow? I’ve never seen it. Where are you from? Manila. Would you rather Play, Pause, Rewind, Fast Forward or Stop? Fast forward. Do you know your phone number? ??? Yes I do. What do you think of Fifty Shades of Grey? Never cared for it. Do you swear in front of children? Nope. Is my grammar fine? Sure.

#survey #surveys

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petrichara · 6 years

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My favourite book recommendations!

These books have all impacted me for a certain reason, each in a different way. I cannot recommend them enough.

1- ‘Falling Into Place’ by Amy Zhang

Blurb:

‘One cold fall day, high school junior Liz Emerson steers her car into a tree. This haunting and heartbreaking story is told by a surprising and unexpected narrator and unfolds in nonlinear flashbacks even as Liz's friends, foes, and family gather at the hospital and Liz clings to life.’

Why this impacted me:

I cried. I cried for Liz, for myself, for everyone in the world. I cried and I cried and I cried. It’s such an unusual book- it’s written in a non-linear style, and told by a narrator with an unknown identity. For so long I refused to tell anyone about this book because it was ‘mine’, but it really is beautiful. The prose is stunning, the plot is incredible, and it definitely gives you a new perspective. It does deal with many sensitive topics so a content warning is in place, and it’s a mature book, but it’s done well. It gave me hope, and it has stuck with me for that reason ever since.

Quote that stayed:

‘I watched her carve her mistakes in stone, and they arranged themselves around her. They became a maze with walls that reached the sky. Because she learned from so few of them, she was lost. Because she didn’t have faith in anything, she didn’t try to find a way out. I watched her try to face her fears alone, too proud to ask for help, too stubborn to admit she was afraid, too small to fight them, too tired to fly away.’

2- ‘We Were Liars’ by E. Lockhart

Blurb:

‘We are the Liars.

We are beautiful, privileged and live a life of carefree luxury.

We are cracked and broken.

A story of love and romance.

A tale of tragedy.

Which are lies?

Which is truth?’

Why this impacted me:

The goddam plot twist. I got to the last page, in tears, and had to go right back to the beginning and read it again. Beautifully written with an incredible, awakening plot with such an amazing message. ‘We Were Liars focuses on the theme of self-acceptance, family morals, and the possibly-deadly consequences of one's mistakes.’ The prose is exquisitely written and absolutely gorgeous- almost poetry. I love all of the main characters; they’re multidimensional, real, flawed and loveable. Easy to emphasise with and love. Just such a well-written book that I come back to time and time again.

Quote that stayed with me (one of dozens):

‘Now, he was free to go forth and make a name for himself in the wide, wide world.

And maybe,

just maybe,

he'd come back one day,

and burn that

fucking

palace

to the ground.’

3- ‘The sky is everywhere’ by Jandy Nelson

Blurb:

‘Beautiful, funny and heartfelt, The Sky Is Everywhere is about love and forgiveness. Seventeen-year-old Lennie Walker spends her time tucked safely and happily in the shadow of her fiery older sister, Bailey. But when Bailey dies abruptly, Lennie is catapulted to centre stage of her own life – and suddenly finds herself struggling to balance two boys. One boy takes Lennie out of her sorrow; the other comforts her in it. But the two can't collide without Lennie's world exploding...’

Why this impacted me:

It understood how I was feeling. The walls of Lennie’s life collapsed around her when her sister died, and she perfectly describes what it is like to be lying in the wreckage of the destruction of a life. So how do you rebuild yourself? This book describes it accurately. The poetry this book contains is also just remarkably astonishing. It grounded me when I felt like I was going to float off and join Icarus as he floated to the sun.

Quote that stayed:

‘How will I survive this missing? How do others do it? People die all the time. Every day. Every hour. There are families all over the world staring at beds that are no longer slept in, shoes that are no longer worn. Families that no longer have to buy a particular cereal, a kind of shampoo. There are people everywhere standing in line at the movies, buying curtains, walking dogs, while inside, their hearts are ripping to shreds. For years. For their whole lives. I don't believe time heals. I don't want it to. If I heal, doesn't that mean I've accepted the world without her?’

4- ‘Love Letters To The Dead’ by Ava Dellaira

Blurb:

‘It begins as an assignment for English class: write a letter to a dead person - any dead person. Laurel chooses Kurt Cobain - he died young, and so did Laurel's sister May - so maybe he'll understand a bit of what Laurel is going through. Soon Laurel is writing letters to lots of dead people - Janis Joplin, Heath Ledger, River Phoenix, Amelia Earhart... it's like she can't stop. (..) But much as Laurel might find writing the letters cathartic, she can't keep real life out forever. The ghosts of her past won't be contained between the lines of a page, and she will have to come to terms with growing up, the agony of losing a beloved sister, and the realisation that only you can shape your destiny.’

Why this impacted me:

It made me feel something. Yes, I cried. And yes, it had me staring at a wall for over an hour after reading it because I was feeling too much. It’s very real about the struggles of grief, homophobia, growing up, loss, and finding who you are after your world is destroyed. It’s just very real. That’s all I need to say, it’s real. And I think everyone who is dealing with personal demons will relate to the story this book wonderfully told. (Again, content warning is needed.)

Quote that stayed:

‘What I told you about saving people isn't true. You might think it is, because you might want someone else to save you, or you might want to save someone so badly. But no one else can save you, not really. Not from yourself. [...] You fall asleep in the foothills, and the wolf comes down from the mountains. And you hope someone will wake you up. Or chase it off. Or shoot it dead. But when you realize that the wolf is inside you, that's when you know. You can't run from it. And no one who loves you can kill the wolf, because it's part of you. They see your face on it. And they won't fire the shot.’

5- ‘Shatter Me’ by Tahereh Mafi

Blurb:

‘I have a curse

I have a gift,

I am a monster

I'm more than human,

My touch is lethal

My touch is power,

I am their weapon

I will fight back.

Juliette hasn’t touched anyone in exactly 264 days.’

Why this impacted me:

Guys. This is my favourite book series of all time. I have cried just talking about it because I love it so much. The prose? The plot? The characters? The dialogue? The description? The twists? The message? The diversity? The representation? Absolute perfection. My OTP is in this series. My whole life is this series let’s be honest. It’s such a refreshing read. A dystopian series and the best dystopian series I’ve read. Read it. Read it. Read it.

Quotes that stuck with me (three of too many to count because I can’t choose just one):

‘The truth is a painful reminder of why I prefer to live among lies.’

‘His smile is laced with dynamite. "Go to sleep"

"Go to hell."

He works his jaw. Walks to the door. "I'm working on it.”’

‘Hope in this world bleeds out of the barrel of a gun.’

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aromantic-official · 6 years

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Hi:) i kinda have a favor to ask. I am currently writing a book& one of the characters is aromantic. I myself do not identify on the spectrum& only have one friend who does. I already consulted her but I want to hear about other peoples experiences too in order to get a better grasp of things. I love the character& I want him to be authentic& not some half-assed representation. I was hoping that maybe you could direct me to some resources? Or if you or any of your followers feel comfortable ++

++telling me about your/their own experience that would also be greatly appreciated!! I would love to hear about the process of realizing and/or accepting it, about any family related issues and also about how it possibly affects someones daily life (e.g. how does it feel if someone keeps asking why u still aint got a partner etc.) I know that all experiences are individual but i would love to hear about some. If this is rude in any way I m very sorry. Also dont feel obligated to publish this :)

That’s a very good attitude to take about writing an aro character, and I’m very glad you have an arospec person to consult as well, since it should help a lot. Here’s an ask we answered about a non-aro person writing an aro character, with many resources and basic tips. Here’s another, this one covering important tropes and pitfalls to avoid.

The question isn’t rude, but asking someone about how it feels to be out or how being aro affects their daily life can be very personal, so be careful and tactful if you choose to do so. Realizing you’re aro is going to be different for everyone, just like any other LGBTQIA+ identity. You may not be able to apply some of these scenarios to the world your character is in (ex. not having the internet in a fantasy book, or no aspec communities exist in a dystopian realm).

Some of the most common experiences I’ve seen for realizing you’re aromantic go along these lines:

“I found the term aromantic through asexual communities, both near the same time, and it clicked. The relief I felt was immense and I’m happy to have words to describe myself.” Most often for aroaces.

“I was exposed to the term aromantic years before I realized it fit me. I was in deep denial, both from other factors (could be sexual attraction, past relationships, trauma, wanting to be in a relationship, etc.) and amatonormativity.” Often for aro allosexuals and/or people who have tried to force themselves to have romantic feelings.

“It was very hard me for me to find a place for myself. The labels were small, hidden, and mocked/belittled/invalidated, and the journey to find something that fit me was long, but I’m glad I made it.” For people on the aromantic spectrum.

“I always knew I was different. I explored queer communities for a long time, switching between many different labels, but never feeling anything quite fit, before finding the term aromantic.”

“I never knew I was different. By finding the aromantic community, I became aware of the small things about myself I had pushed aside or ignored, because I didn’t believe it was possible to be the way I am.”

“I feel romantic attraction under certain conditions/rarely/in a certain way, so I didn’t believe it was possible for me to be aro, and felt alienated from the community. Later, I found labels that described my experience, and a group of people that understood what I went through, and I embraced my identity.” For arospecs.

“I knew of the term aromantic for a long time before I realized it was me. I questioned it, but due to incorrect/negative mindsets and amatonormativity, identified as many queer and arospec labels once I realized I wasn’t straight. Eventually, I pushed my denial aside, and embraced by aromantic identity.”

“I can’t be aromantic! I had a crush in 2nd grade!/There’s a person I think is cute!/I have sex!/I have strong feelings towards people! (usually squishes)/I want to date!/whatever bullshit excuse my mind threw at me during questioning. Eventually, I pushed through it, realized many of these were common experiences with names/labels in the aromantic community, and concluded I was aro.”

Family-related issues can be a bit more complicated. Just like any other LGBTQIA+ identity, it’s a personal choice to come out or not, with all kinds of factors contributing to the decision. I’ve seen many who have successfully done it, those who have been rejected, and those who will never come out. Fighting heteronormative and amatonormative stereotypes, ideals, and issues is fully individual and based on the family and the aro. Not to mention homophobia, transphobia, aphobia, or any other bullshit an aro’s got to deal with. Safety levels upon speaking up also vary; not everyone can be an activist. Handle this issue carefully.

As for daily life… being aro affects much of it, for many of us. It can affect which friends we have, what jobs we take, how we interact with people, what kind of partners and relationships we have, if any… everything, even in the smallest of ways. We know we’re different, we’re Others in the eyes of society. Romance is constantly marketed as something everyone always wants, must have, needs, and only the monsters, the aliens, the villains, the cold and broken and ugly don’t get a love interest at the end of the movie. The boy gets a girlfriend because he did a good job saving the world, right? Heteronormativity, misogyny, and amatonormativity intersect pretty neatly that way. This takes a toll on your mind over the years, the same way other anti-minority attitudes do.

The best way I can describe it is as a fundamental disconnect. It’s hearing people talk about their crushes and realizing you’ll never have a staple of the human experience, of growing up, of fitting in, that is so basic and ingrained it’s not even questioned. It’s realizing your friends will always value a romantic partner over you, no matter how close you are. It’s seeing wedding clothes and feeling sad, instead of hopeful or happy. It’s trying to find a song not about love, in vain. It’s watching a movie and not understanding why these two characters that stood next to each other are being shipped. It’s starting to loathe Valentine’s Day, for the constant reminders you’re different, so different no one even knows you’re here. It’s being so, so tired when people ask you why you haven’t kissed/dated/married yet, looking at you like you’re sad, or a child, or disgusting, or broken, or perverted. It’s realizing you don’t have the future everyone else sees as the ideal, and you don’t really know what kind of future you’ve got at all.

So yes, it can be depressing, but it can also be nice and fun, as shown in one of the asks I linked at the beginning. So don’t forget we’re not all gloomy discourse-plagued hermits, we’ve got personalities and stories and lives with many happy spots, just like any other person. One last thing, our resources page may help you as well!

Good luck writing your character; I hope they’re amazing!

- Mod Harley

#asks #mod harley #aro #aromantic #arospec #long post #aro characters

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laissez-fire-oh · 3 years

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zinc white; how are you really feeling today? no one-word answers please!

bright blue; what does your dream family look like? any kids or pets? how many of each?

oxide of chromium; what’s your favorite book?

burnt umber; what’s something you plan to do before the day is over to take care of yourself?

mars brown; what’s a movie that always puts a smile on your face/makes you laugh?

You are always soo amazing adding all the questions I am so sorry I am this lazy and I don't TT

zinc white; how are you really feeling today? no one-word answers please!

Sleepy, tired and... a bit confused. Very moody tbh. But hey, it’s okay, days like this are useful and important as well.

bright blue; what does your dream family look like? any kids or pets? how many of each?

Maybe two kids and one/two dogs. A cat or an aquarium as well maybe, but I’d be fine with just dogs. Hmm... yeah that’s it

oxide of chromium; what’s your favorite book?

As a book lover, it’s a bit difficult to say only one (not to mention I tend to forget titles and authors... :’) ). Despite my soft spot for dystopian stories and Mr. J.G. Ballard, this time I’ll go with The Impossible Lives of Greta Wells by Andrew Sean Greer

burnt umber; what’s something you plan to do before the day is over to take care of yourself?

I’ll take a shower, stay a bit under the running water and try to meditate. Then apply some body lotion, put on my pj and maybe watch a movie or some videos/listen to music.

mars brown; what’s a movie that always puts a smile on your face/makes you laugh?

Same problem that I have for books aside, I’d say The Emperor’s New Groove.

Thank you for asking❣️

#itsdeelovely #angelguides #asks #ask game reply

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monstersinthecosmos · 6 years

Text

Eleven Things!

RULES Always post the rules Answer the questions given by the person who tagged you Write 11 questions of your own Tag 11 people (or however many you want)

Tagged by: @justsomespacedust

Tagging: @justsomespacedust (you tagged me but it was like 6 months ago or something and I found it in my drafts so I’m tagging you BACK), @superhiki @theraphaellus @lestvt @scriptedwithprecision @misfitapplication @tartara-to-eto @theballadofmrslovett @i-want-my-iwtv @sheepskeleton @yureiyume @hedonisttrash @punkrockaryastark @auburnandamberangel @morganeskylar @houseofromanus @redversaillesrose @mntyaggrssn @wicked-felina @ineffablelexicon @secret-les-mis-blog-ooo @dianysus @fairytalesgoneawry @nightfreaks @vampiricmusicaltheatre @xlilvamp @amadeo-child-of-the-renaissance @pandoras-crocs THIS WAS MORE THAN 11 IDK I wanna tag everyone but I have to do adult things now, I’m genuinely curious for you to answer my questions so plz feel free LOL

Questions I’m answering:

1. What is one show or movie that you will watch over and over and never get tired of?

I have like an obsessive/addictive personality so when I like stuff I have no problem watching them over and over and over and over. Off my head, a few movies that I can and will watch twice a fucking day for a week when I have the chance: The Departed, Interview with the Vampire (lol), Shutter Island, the miniseries of The Shining, An American Werewolf in London!!!!!!!!!!!!!, Forgetting Sarah Marshall. For shows shdjgkal I’ve watched Six Feet Under all the way through so many times I know a lot of the words and can tell you episode titles and quote it back to you. I’ve watched the first half of Dexter so many times it’s also shameful. AND I MEAN BANSHEE, like the first time I binge watched Banshee I finished it and marinated for a day and then started it over. I’ve never done that before. Binged a show twice a row. Goddamn.

2. If you didn’t have to sleep, what would you do with the extra time?

LIKE I’D TRY TO KNOCK OUT ALL THE CREATIVE ENDEAVORS I DAYDREAM ABOUT? Being creatively productive is big on my life goals but I still only scratch the surface of the ideas I have.

3. Do you have any uncommon vices or habits?

Everything that comes to mind doesn’t seem all that uncommon in Tumblr land, where everyone is excessively candid about their weird bullshit and poor mental health. =P I mean I would say probably that I read so much fanfiction but I’ve surrounded myself with like minded people so in this space it doesn’t feel all that uncommon. I also have a thing like every time I’m super fucking broke and have less than $30 to my name I’ll go buy myself a Starbucks drink cause I have this feeling like I MEAN WHAT DIFFERENCE DOES IT FUCKING MAKE AT THIS POINT LMAO and it feels good to have a sugary overpriced coffee as the world burns.

4. If you had to pick one food or type of food to eat for the rest of your life, what would it be?

Sobe Liz Blizz with probably like bánh mì sandwiches.

5. If you could pick a fictional universe to live in, which one would you pick and why?

I feel like all the fictional universes I like are sort of dystopian and wouldn’t be a good time LMAO. I love the Francesca Lia Block version of Los Angeles though, even though it’s like, the real world. I just always loved how she wrote about LA and now that I live here I find it really helps contrast when I get frustrated with it cause I can see what she means.

6. Which pokemon is your favorite?

I DON’T KNOW SHIT FROM FUCK ABOUT POKEMONS BUT I THINK EEVEE IS REALLY CUTE?

7. Who was your celebrity crush when you were a kid/teenager?

Scorpion from Mortal Kombat, does that count? Obsessed.

8. Do people assume you are older than, younger than, or close to your actual age?

I am consistently mistaken for being 19. Not 18, not 20. 19. Always 19. I had to get an epidural last month and as the nurse was putting my IV I had mentioned that I just turned 30 and she’s like “Oh my god I thought you were a teenager.” I get carded a lot lol.

9. Do you have any pets? Describe them.

NO I CAN’T HAVE ANY IN MY APARTMENT but one of my cats from high school is still alive. She lives with my parents. Her name is Pajamas and she’s very pretty!

10. If money wasn’t an issue, describe your ideal house. Would it be a mansion or a compact house? Ultramodern or antique? In a city or out in the country?

I would love to live in the mountains/woods but then I also always feel like if I’m out in the middle of nowhere I wouldn’t be able to go to metal shows enough, and tbh I love living walking distance from 711 so I do like being in denser areas, too. I always imagined just having enough space, maybe a two bedroom so that I could have a room as an office. I’m not interested in having a giant place. Brenda’s house on Six Feet Under would be perfect, or Carrie’s apartment in Homeland? Goals.

11. What sights/sounds/smells do you find relaxing?

SIGHTS: The North Shore of Long Island when you’re driving the back roads that curl along the coast with all the tiny little harbors and inlets and bays and it’s this amazing balance of feel like you’re in the woods but then opening out onto the beach but it’s like that rocky LI North Shore kinda beach with all the rocks and the water is so fucking still and barely moves and you can see all the marsh grass and all those roads are so windy so it’s like you’re just taking all these insane curves through the woods and then suddenly you’re at the waterfront and then suddenly you’re back in the woods again.

SOUNDS: I LOVE THE SOUND OF RAIN and I never hear it anymore cause I moved to LA, whoops, gotta listen to those ambient white noise YouTube tracks.

SMELLS: Sandalwood candles, unburnt boxes of incense, summer asphalt in the rain.

Questions for you to answer:

01. Put your favorite album on shuffle and tell me a memory that comes to you with the first song that comes on. (Obviously tell me what song it is lol)

02. What’s the first movie you ever saw in the theatre?

03. How old were you when you first read your favorite book? (OBVIOUSLY ALSO TELL ME WHAT BOOK!)

04. The worst job you’ve ever had!

05. Look up your fav movie on IMDB and list 3-5 of its keywords and we’re gonna try to guess what it is LOL.

06. Is there a meme that pops into your head at random that makes you laugh out loud, like even when you’re in public?

07. Describe your fashion sense.

08. Tell me about the most fun thing you did last month.

09. What’s your favorite chain restaurant and what do you like to order there?

10. What’s your favorite song to sing at the top of your lungs in the car/shower/empty house/whatever?

11. Tell me something you’re looking really forward to!!!!!

#old school lj type shit #me af #LAWN GUYLAND

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worldssmallestbookclub · 6 years

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The Diamond Age by Neal Stephenson

The future is small. The future is nano…

And who could be smaller or more insignificant than poor Little Nell? An orphan girl alone and adrift in a world of Confucian Law, Neo-Victorian values and warring nano-technology?

Well, not quite alone. Because Nell has a friend, of sorts. A guide, a teacher, an armed and unarmed combat instructor, a book and a computer: the Young Lady’s Illustrated Primer is all these and much much more. It is illicit, magical, dangerous.

And it isn’t Nell’s. It was stolen. And now some very powerful people want to get their hands on this highly desirable object. Nell is about to discover that the world can feel very small indeed…

My friend and I had a bit of difficulty with this novel, to be honest. We both found it quite interesting and engaging for the first two-thirds, with plenty of neat concepts and strong characters. After that point, however, the book went a bit off the rails, and we were each left with a good deal of confusion by the time the novel ended. I might still recommend it if you are big into hard sci-fi and also have a soft spot for Victoriana and/or steampunk, since the first part of the book really was an interesting read that I just wish had continued in that same vein.

In an interview with Medium, Neal Stephenson remarked, “I am old enough to remember when some of the very first dystopian SF movies came out. They wouldn’t have been called that at the time, other than by film critics writing for an elite audience. At the time it was refreshing, and extremely hip, to see depictions of futures that were not as clean and simple as Star Trek. Now, the dystopian future is the only future that is allowed to be presented in new SF films and television, and it has become so ubiquitous, and so tired, that Apple TV is deploying it as a mass marketing term right up there with ‘Romantic Comedies’ and ‘Superheroes.’” Consider recently distributed novels you’ve read or films that you have seen depicting the future. Do you agree with Stephenson’s comment? Explain.

Lord Finkle-McGraw holds the opinion that “while people were not genetically different, they were culturally as different as they could possibly be, and that some cultures were simply better than others. This was not a subjective value judgment, merely an observation that some cultures thrived and expanded while others failed. It was a view implicitly shared by nearly everyone but, in those days, never voiced.” Do you agree with this opinion? What are the features your own ideal culture would have? How much does your ideal culture reflect the culture you were raised in—either as a continuation of features that have benefitted you or as a rejection of features that have negatively impacted you?

When Finkle-McGraw is speaking with Hackworth about social models and childhood development, he says, “You yourself said that the engineers in the Bespoke department—the very best—had led interesting lives, rather than coming from the straight and narrow. [...] That implies, does it not, that in order to raise a generation of children who can reach their full potential, we must find a way to make their lives interesting.” Do you agree that someone who leads a “boring” life is unable to be innovative and creative? Try to use real life examples to support your argument for or against. Consider also addressing the way in which mental illness has often been romanticized when it comes to artistic ability.

In The Diamond Age, much is made of the fact that there is an actual human who loves Nell behind the face of the Primer. Various characters suggest that this caregiving figure is what allows Nell to develop into a well-adjusted, inquisitive, and confident adult. However, I found this assertion dubious, as last year I read the excellent book Love at Goon Park by Deborah Blum about psychologist Harry Harlow’s experiments in the 1950’s exploring childhood development and the importance of “contact comfort” from a caregiver. Infant rhesus macaques had serious developmental challenges when they were denied a soft, warm, welcoming caregiver presence, and a caregiver who does not offer physical touch and comfort creates a psychologically stressful environment for a developing child. In this novel, who did you see as counting among Nell’s caregiver figures? What specific comforts did they offer her? Which of these comforts do you think are most important to the development of a grounded and intelligent adult? Did you find the development of the different girls throughout the novel—Nell, Elizabeth, Fiona, and the girls of the Mouse Army—to be believable based on the circumstances described?

When Dr. X is speaking with Hackworth about Seed technology, he asserts there is a distinct difference between how technology is used in Western and Eastern cultures. Specifically, in Western culture, “there is no respect for order, no reverence for authority,” thereby requiring them to “enforce order through control of the Feed.” In contrast, Eastern cultures “are disciplined, we revere authority, we have order within our own minds [...] In our hands the Seed would be harmless.” The key problem is that Chinese culture has “struggled to absorb the yong of technology without importing the Western ti.” Consider the ways in which colonialism restructured other countries economically and technologically in order to force those countries into becoming dependent on their colonizer. Now consider the modern-day globalizing force of the internet, spreading corporations and conversations and ideas worldwide at lightning speed. What are possible similarities between the globalization of the internet age and the effects of past iterations of colonialism? Is the internet a strictly Western technology with a Western ideology required to make use of it? Or is it a technology that can be molded to shape the ideology of whoever is currently using it?

Personally, I felt that the book took a sudden turn in Part Two that confused me, rather than delighting me. The Drummers, Seed technology, and the Fist were all (as far as I remember) suddenly introduced in this section, and left me rather bewildered, since I didn’t feel like I fully understood what any of them were or what their place was in the story that I’d been reading up to now. Do you agree or disagree with my opinion? If you agree, explain how you think Stephenson could have better integrated the content of Part Two with Part One so that the book felt more cohesive. If you disagree, explain why I’m wrong, and what you think Stephenson was trying to say by the end of the novel about technology, culture, and the development of individual creativity and intellect.

#the diamond age #neal stephenson #discussion questions #book club

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