#Not a Nice Man

[petermorwood]

That aged less than well.

I picked up a few common-subject books (The 1936 Abdication of Edward VIII, and what came after) from the library a couple of weeks back, and after reading several non-fictions, started on the single example of fiction.

It's "To Catch A King", a thriller by Jack "The Eagle Has Landed" Higgins, and Hoo-Boy, the opening made me roll my eyes:

The Higgins novel was first published in 1979.

The non-fiction books all came out much later.

"Much later" meant post-Charles / Diana / Camilla / Andy / Fergie / Harry / Meghan etc, and thus also meant "Much Less Deferential".

They used research material unavailable* when Higgins wrote his novel.

* That said, every single non-fiction writer commented about how many documents were Not Yet Available, or Lost, or Withheld, or Heavily Redacted, etcetera, etcetera.

Even without that excuse there's an unsavoury brown-nosing feel about the novel which seems very un-Higgins.

IMO, of course, and YMMV.

By contrast, one of the non-fiction books - this one by Andrew Lownie - was entitled "Traitor King". Make of that what you will.

Considering what came from the documents which WERE available, and wondering what might be in the ones kept out of reach - also WHY they're so out of reach - leaves me thinking there's a lot of "no smoke without fire" about the Duke of Windsor's doings before and during WW2.

And terms like "credit", "gallant", "honourable", even "gentleman" may be at best less than accurate, at worst completely false.

The show will, no doubt, go on.

Right now I'm turning attention to some novels from my TBR pile - including at long last a few "Redwall" titles - because after that other lot, fiction has a less dodgy flavour...

[pocketss]

mmm soob

[jabberwick]

Human Bill Cipher

(Based on Alex Hirsch's "canon" design)

And just to be clear, writing dissertations at me justifying why he should instead be a conventionally attractive twink will involuntarily cause me to draw him with even fewer teeth.

[chez-cinnamon]

What if Pomni seeks out comfort from Kinger bc of the last episode?? Finale !!

It is DONE !!

Everyone is so fun to draw I cannot.......... /pos

[chloesimaginationthings]

You know Henry’s final speech went hard in FNAF

[superm4ks]

‘Guys this is not good now they’re gonna paint the left as dangerous and violent and use this to make themselves the victims and characterize everyone else as criminals’ y’all really been white in this country. It’s insane to me

[ceilidho]

Reader accidentally being kind to a stranger and not knowing that Johnny is months into a deep spiralling depression because of his head injury and medical discharge…..honey, you’ve got a storm coming

[isawthismeme]

She’s brown and a democrat, gotta get that birth certificate, that we’ll call fake news anyway. Apparently, if you can’t win in a fight, you gotta at least try to get your opponent disqualified.

Sad and weird.

[egophiliac]

Malleus' bday is coming up, thoughts on what his sleepwear might be?

anticipating that reveal any time now, so gotta get my predictions in real quick (aka extremely fast drawings) (I'm sorry)

[turtleblogatlast]

Leo learns something about himself 🏳️‍⚧️

Based roughly on this old post.

Bonus:

[Leo is taking the fact that he was born biologically female simultaneously very well and also not so well but overall he’s mostly coping with the fact that it was Draxum that just essentially gave him the turtle equivalent of ‘The Talk’.]

[hansoeii]

GOOD OMENS SEASON 3 IS HAPPENING SO I SHALL REPOST ALL OF MY GOOD OMENS ART IN CELEBRATION!! 🥳❤️

WAHOO!!!

[frownyalfred]

love how Gotham goons are like "awh, it's the nice, quippy one" when they see Nightwing and then Dick shoves his fucking escrima stick down their throats until they choke on it and almost die

[hattersarts]

drew some book!husbands. they feel like they've taken more traits from each other than the show.

[tiger-grace]

I think Alfred is constantly dreaming about retirement but is shackled by the knowledge that he is the glue holding this barely functional family together

Alfred: sir I really don’t think

Bruce: why not. why should I not invest millions into funding a therapy corporation that Jason will ACTUALLY be able to trust

Alfred: quite honestly sir I think if it says “wayne” on it he’s 10 times less likely to go

Tim and Damian kicking the hell out of eachother rolling around on the floor: (unintelligible screaming, glass breaking, various cartoon crashing sound effects)

Alfred: (stares into batcamera like he’s in an office episode with several decades worth of exhaustion)

[adrift-in-thyme]

There’s something terribly poetic in the inevitability of events in EPIC. The choices Odysseus is given lead to no win situations. They aren’t really choices at all.

Kill a foe’s child or witness the death of your own. Sacrifice six men or sacrifice them all. Allow your crew to starve or watch as they slaughter sacred cattle.

Sacrifice your friends, your brothers, or give up your last chance at reaching home.

In the end, the result is always the same. He destroys himself

[inkskinned]

you know, you know. no gods, no masters, no kings on pedestals. everyone is fallible. death of the author. you know! you are balanced about your intake of media - you allow the wiggle room, the grace, the gratitude, the skepticism. nobody above criticism.

but still. a weird gut-punch feeling, something akin to betrayal. you read the article. surprise! an author you love is actually: a serial fucking predator.

well, shit. what now. no, you knew he was a person (all people are), but now you're wondering - what have i overlooked by accident? what messages have i internalized that are strange and cruel? and also, like, what the fuck?

his actions lay a thick glaze on top of everything. like each place is now ruined, opaque in a new way. but okay, fine, you've done this before. you knew better, right? you've been betrayed by many a cherished childhood author.

still, this stickiness. fuck. can you pick up that book again. will you read it to your children. you've recommended it to others - will you ever do that again? and of course, of course, no parasocial relationships. you were theoretically above this kind of sentiment. but the artist informs the art, right.

so it's not something as clear-cut as feeling he owed you, specifically (a stranger) better behavior - just that you kind of, in a distant and odd way... sort of trusted him to do better. it's not like a real trust or something speakable, just the faint hope that the product (good books) was a thin representation of the soul. now it feels like the product (good? books?) was a mask. in some small or insignificant way, your previous support of this person lent them power. your money and your time and your laughter.

and the thing is - you have this terrible, echoing sensation. how many times will this happen? over and over. you find out that the singer you love is actually a predator. you learn over drinks that your favorite high school english teacher is in jail for what he did to her. you listen to the news idly and suddenly discover that a woman you used to idolize has been abusing her kids for an actual eon.

what can you touch without the static melting off. you can't even really complain about it too much (you were supposed to know better, and besides, you don't want the same re-split "it's not your fault, love what you love" basic advice), but now it's here. somehow, it feels like - you let him into your life.

it's not that things need to be pure or an artist has to be like, endlessly perfect, mindful. demure. it's more just this terrible truth that has been replayed through your veins so often it feels criminally vain. power corrupts, absolute power corrupts absolutely. did you want any one person to be worth that power?

it's just that he wrote books where he seemed to understand that. he seemed to know about hierarchies and unfair systems and bigotry and privilege. you thought they were books about what it means to struggle. you thought they were about having power and still using it for good rather than for control. he spooned you a narrative of being a good guy, a kind soul. you fucking bought what that fucking monster sold.

maybe that's why they were fantasies, after all.