#Providence Group of Gold Mines

[providencegoldmines]

Providence Gold Mines Inc. Engages with Prominent Financing Group

Providence Gold Mines Inc. Engages with Prominent Financing Group

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[theunholyvirginemilyprentiss]

THE BAU PLAYING MINECRAFT:

JJ: Is busy filling in the map—no one has seen her for days but she has pillaged 3 villages and has an inventory full of saddles and gold bars. Has not spoken for 30 minutes and has left Cheeto dust prints all over Penelope’s white controller.

EMILY: Will never finish building that mob spawner because she is too busy trolling everyone on the server, especially Morgan—he keeps falling into her TNT traps.

ELLE: Is the one supplying Emily with the TNT, and switches between doing that and helping Spencer make a farm in the corner. Keeps disappearing to the nether and won’t tell anyone why.

SPENCER: Making a detailed inventory system in the base storage room and leaves everyone instructions on little wooden signs.

PENELOPE: Spends all her time dying sheep pink and collecting flowers, is ‘decorating’ their base, and has tamed 6 animals.

MORGAN: Running from Emily by day, by night, is down in the mines ‘providing’ for the group and killing mobs. His death count (thanks to Emily) stands at 9.

HOTCH: Thinks it’s called ‘Mein Kraft’ and leaves game night after 10 minutes to take work calls.

ROSSI: “When were you guys gonna tell me my controller wasn’t connected?!”

Check out my Masterlist for more BAU scenarios!

[ragingbookdragon]

Part of her duties required her to hear the calls of her people. Simon’s words rang true when many of her subjects blessed her at the foot of her throne and thanked her for the food and help she provided. Other times, she was forced to listen to the nobles and children of nobles boast and puff their chests like birds attracting a mate. One moment has stuck out to her when a group of rough looking men entered the hall and she felt a sickening feeling gather when she watched John and Kyle stand up straight from the windows they were leaning on; more so, when she felt Simon and Jonathan come to the left and right of her throne side and stand.

The leader, she assumed from the way he swaggered up to her throne, gave a showy bow. “Your Majesty,” he greeted with a disgusting tone and look in his eye. “It’s a pleasure to be in such a glorious and dignified hall.”

She ignored the desire to have them thrown out on their rears, and lifted her chin, replying calmly, “The pleasure is mine. Might I ask what you’ve come to me in request of?”

“Well,” he drawled out. “My men and I,” he gestured to the men behind him and then himself. “Have been doing an excellent job of keeping your border on the west end clean of ruffians and bandits.”

“I wasn’t aware I had commissioned a new squad of knights,” she answered, arching an elegant brow on her forehead. “Might I ask who your captain is?”

The man’s chuckle was anything but amusing. “Oh, we’re not knights. We’re simply concerned...citizens.”

“Ah, I suspect I shall see more armed citizens soon, then?”

“Perhaps,” he smiled. “My Lady.”

“So, what do you require of me?”

He took another step up but stopped when Kyle and John appeared and held out their arms, effectively blocking him. “Quite the group of knights you command, Your Majesty.”

“They are,” she affirmed. “What do you want from my kingdom? Gold? Land? Titles?”

“Well, if we are going to continue to protect the border, we’d like to know it’s going to be repaid.”

“I’ve never heard of your group before. Why would I repay such?”

“We are good. Better than even your knights.”

She hummed low and waved a hand; a young woman appeared with a golden cup and a pitcher, and she took the wine goblet. “Thank you, Laeneris.”

“Your Majesty,” the woman bowed and stepped down with the pitcher.

“I will offer amnesty, but I will send my own knights to see how you protect my kingdom. You will fight for my kingdom and my people. You will fight for me.” She took a sip of her wine. “I will give you one day to decide.” Waving a hand, she said to a man in the side hall, “Amnie, a few rooms in the inn in town for our…guests.”

The leader gazed at her as the men behind him laughed and cheered with one another; he regarded her with a curious and lewd expression. “Show me your cunt. I want to see if it’s worth fighting for.”

Simon was already drawing his long sword and down a half step when she simply raised a finger. “You are in my throne room. In my castle. And are going to be staying in my inn. You do well to remember as such.” She looked behind his men. “You have a decision to make, and I have more subjects to hear.”

He smirked and nodded his head. “Of course, Your Majesty. I thank you for your hospitality.” He turned and walked past Laeneris, pausing to slap her rear hard; she jumped and made a face as he muttered, “I’ll find you tomorrow evening.”

As they walked off, she leaned back in her throne. “Ser Simon?” she narrowed her gaze on the man’s back. “When you meet them on the border…kill that one first.”

Simon’s gaze darkened behind the visor as he sheathed his sword, and he assured, “Gladly, Your Grace.”

[zvaigzdelasas]

The governor of the South Kivu province in eastern Congo on Friday ordered the suspension of all mining activities to “restore order” in the mineral-rich region, which is plagued by violence from armed groups.

Mining activities are suspended until further notice because of “the disorder caused by mining operators,” Gov. Jean-Jacques Purusi Sadiki said in a statement, without providing further details.

The statement said the aim of the decision was to “restore order to mining throughout the Province and to preserve not only human lives, but also the traceability of mineral production in these sites."

The local authorities gave 72 hours to “all mining companies, businesses and cooperatives to leave the sites and places of exploitation,” the statement added.[...]

Bienvenu Mapendo, president of the Federation of Congolese Enterprises in the province of South Kivu, told The Associated Press that this decision will have a negative impact on economic activities in the province.

“It is certain that the decision will have a negative impact in the province with all the communities that make a living from mining activities," he said over the phone. “We would like to have a meeting with the provincial authority to find out the motivations for this decision."

19 Jul 24

[mistydeyes]

Cigarette smoke w ghost ?

Thank you sm for submitting! This just screamed Simon (ngl half of the prompts are just made for him)

link to the prompt list and 1k celebration!

prompt: cigarette smoke - you share a cigarette (and exchange indirect kisses) while on patrol

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x gn!reader (codename: Nightshade)

warnings: swearing

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

"Ghost, Nightshade, you're up," Gaz said as he sat on the safehouse's ratty couch and closed his eyes. Soap followed soon after and went into the makeshift kitchen to prepare some lackluster dinner. You nodded to Ghost as he grabbed his freshly cleaned weapon. "Cleaning time is over, Lt." you commented as he shook his head. You grabbed your weapon off the table and followed the tall man out the door. Night patrol was one of the worst tasks. You would rather clean the entire weapons cache over walking around and checking the tree line. The continuous security was more a formality at this point but still, your Captain made sure everyone had the opportunity to get some fresh air.

You walked in step with Ghost, minimizing the amount of conversation and providing an extra set of eyes around the darkened home. Patrol usually lasted about an hour which gave the next group enough time to rest, eat, or just do anything else besides remaining vigilant. By your fifth lap, you were essentially over the whole thing. You reached into your tac vest and pulled out your last cigarette and flicked your lighter. Ghost's eyes flew to yours as he gruffly commanded, "Night, put that shit out." "Lt. we walk in the same pattern, if anyone were to ambush us I'm sure you'd subdue them before I could even drop my cig," you replied and blew a puff of smoke in his face. The air smelled of smoke and pine as he looked at you in vague annoyance. You continued walking as you could feel his eyes follow the slow pull of the cigarette from your lips and the exhale of smoke. "Hand it over," he said almost in a whisper and you smiled as your fingers brushed in the passing.

You scanned the tree line and through the corner of your eye, you could see him roughly push the edge of his balaclava up and hold the cigarette in between his pale lips. Something was intimate about the moment, seeing him inhale and hold the smoke in his mouth. "Watch the trees and not me, Sgt." he corrected and you could feel your cheeks slightly warm. "Here," he said and passed it back over to you. As you put it up to your lips, you could almost taste his lips on yours as you inhaled the tobacco. You smiled as you blew out into the cold night air, there was something so cliche about sharing an indirect kiss like this. Eventually after a few more passes and vigilant glances, you had finished the cigarette and allowed Ghost to scorch it out with his calloused hands. You continued in silence as the hour was almost up before someone spoke again. "Was that one of mine?" he asked and this time it was more of a question instead of a sarcastic accusation. "Contrary to popular belief, Ghost," you said as he looked at you under the glow of the moonlight, "other people can purchase Marlboro Golds."

[youryurigoddess]

Maggie’s pendants and good omens

Yes, you’ve read it right. This post is going to deal with some literal good omens, not just title drop! But first things first, let’s take a closer look at the topic of this analysis.

A toucan

The top necklace is a lovely design involving a crowned toucan — believed to be a messenger of gods able to travel between the spiritual and the physical world, often associated with rain and rainbow (a Christian symbol of divine love, grace, and mercy, a reminder of the covenant between God and humanity to spare the latter from future trials like the Flood) — encircled by a gold band (a symbol of infinity, eternal love and promise) spun by a small butterfly (a symbol of transformation, hope, and rebirth). All three symbols combined seem to deliver a divine message of hope for rebirth, possibly resurrection, and the eternal life. Very fitting in the context of the Second Coming.

The fact that toucans were revered by the native South Americans as rainbringers strengthens the symbolic meaning of another type of bird we can spot on Maggie’s clothes in the very first episode, as her character introduction — a swallow. Swallows flying low are also believed to be harbingers of rain and bad weather. If you see one close to Earth or a building, it means that there’s a storm — or a certain biblical tempest — on the horizon.

In Ancient Greece and Rome swallows were representing Aphrodite, goddess of love. In Christianity they were considered to be of God and symbolized hope, awakening, and revival of life as messengers of spring and protectors from winter colds. Also helped Jesus on the Cross — according to a Christian legend, a group of swallows was supposed to take out the thorns from the Crown of Thorns and alleviate His Passion on the Cross. Humans banding together in the name of good have been a big theme in the series ever since The Them made an appearance, and from what we already know about the unpublished Good Omens sequel, we can assume that Jesus is going to take the spotlight in the upcoming season.

Maggie definitely attracts sudden inexplicable weather changes, like a thunderstorm with weirdly localized lightning strikes or a sudden downpour. And we’re still waiting for some vavooming (and the following happy ending) to happen in S3.

A heart with an eye

Now, the more nuanced clue hidden in the bottom necklace. I know that some of us were trying to tackle the concept of Maggie’s eye in a heart pendant suggesting her Masonic connotations, but this symbol (or the Eye of Providence in general) isn’t strictly Masonic, it isn’t even limited only to Judeo-Christian art. And while it is used a lot in Christian iconography, we should focus on a very specific example of it already referenced in the show.

Buckle up, we’re making a parachute dive into S1.

It seems like our old friend, Agnes Nutter, still has our backs.

Prophecy 4020:

Let the wheel of fate turne, let harts enjoin, there are othere fyres than mine; when the whirl wynd whirls, reach oute one to another.

If you look closely at the bottom right corner of this frame, you will see that as an illustration for the above prophecy the production team chose a 1611 engraving titled The Minde should have a fixed Eye On Objects, that are plac’d on High first found in Gabriel Rollenhagen’s Nucleus emblematum selectissimorum.

In 1635 it was published in A Collection of Emblemes, Ancient and Moderne Quickened With Metrical Illustrations, both Morall and Divine, Etc by George Wither with the accompanying hymn:

A Heart, which bore the figure of an Eye

Wide open to the Sunne; by some, was us'd,

When in an Emblem, they would signifie

A Minde, which on Celestiall Matters mus'd:

Implying, by the same, that there is nought

Which in this lower Orbe, our Eyes can see,

So fit an Object for a manly thought,

As those things, which in Heav'n above us be.

God, gave Mankinde (above all other Creatures)

A lovely Forme, and upward-looking Eye,

(Among the rest of his peculiar Features)

That he might lift his Countenance on high:

And (having view'd the Beauty, which appeares

Within the outward Sights circumference)

That he might elevate above the Sphæres,

The piercing Eye, of his Intelligence.

Then, higher, and still higher strive to raise

His Contemplations Eyes, till they ascend

To gaine a glimpse of those eternall Rayes,

To which all undepraved Spirits tend.

For, 'tis the proper nature of the Minde

(Till fleshly Thoughts corrupt it) to despise

Those Lusts whereto the Body stands inclin'd;

And labour alwayes, upward to arise.

Some, therefore, thought those Goblins which appeare

To haunt old Graves and Tombes, are Soules of such,

Who to these loathsome places doomed were,

Because, they doted on the Flesh too much.

But, sure we are, well-minded Men shall goe

To live above, when others bide below.

And hey, guess what 4020, i.e., the number of the prophecy, symbolizes in Strong’s Concordance? Periergazomai, a Greek word meaning “to waste one's labor about something” — to meddle, going beyond proper boundaries (where a person doesn't belong); to fixate on what others are doing, instead of doing what the person himself is supposed to do.

It appears only once in the Bible:

2 Thessalonians 3:11: We hear that some among you are idle and disruptive. They are not busy; they are busybodies. Such people we command and urge in the Lord Jesus Christ to settle down and earn the food they eat. And as for you, brothers and sisters, never tire of doing what is good.

To make things slightly more interesting, in the Hebrew version of Strong’s Concordance 4020 has another meaning — migbaloth, meaning “twisted things, i.e. cords”. Which doesn’t make much sense until we read the actual passage:

Exodus 28:24 and two chains of pure gold, twisted like cords; and you shall attach the corded chains to the settings.

And compare it to the most recent post on the topic published directly by Word of God:

What if all these clues didn’t apply to Maggie and Nina, but Aziraphale and Crowley instead? What if Maggie served as a messenger — consciously or not — just like the toucan, delivering the prophecy to those who need it most?

“When the tempest comes and darkness and great storms, and the dead will leave their graves and walk the Earth once more and there will be great lamentations for the end is near, don’t lose hope, hold hands and look up.”

Basically what Aziraphale and Crowley already did when they performed the 25 Lazarii miracle, only with no interference from Gabriel this time around.

And, if both Strong’s Concordance and Maggie’s personal addition to her second pendant are to be believed, with a wedding band somehow involved in the process.

[post-futurism]

Australia NEEDS to be paying attention to this. In essence the Liberal party is going to use the tears of a massive gold mining company not being able to get their way with destroying a significant Aboriginal area to stir up racist and classist aligned votes under a new Liberal Party banner somehow claiming that the party is speaking for the working class.

ICYMI McPhillamy's Gold Mine has gone through the planning process and received development approval for their site near Blayney, NSW, on Wiradjuri land. The mine would be facilitated by the construction of a tailings dam on the Belubula River around which are identified Aboriginal archaeology. Because the dam would have required the destruction of these objects, the planning process included consultation with Registered Aboriginal Parties (RAPs), including the Orange Local Aboriginal Land Council (Orange LALC), and Wiradyuri Traditional Owners Central West Aboriginal Corporation (WTOCWAC).

Despite having planning approval, Tanya Plibersek, Labor's Environmental Minister, made a rare approval of an Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Protection Act Section 10 application which enables the protection of an area provided that the minister can be satisfied that the land is a significant Aboriginal area and is under threat of injury or desecration. This Act is separate to the planning process and is available to Aboriginal people to use where they consider that the planning system has failed to protect cultural sites.

This is exactly what the WTOCWAC did. During the assessment process, the WTOCWAC gave advice to the Orange LALC who were the identified Aboriginal persons to comment on the project in Blayney (because Blayney does not have a LALC). It originally did not support the proposal, the same as the WTOCWAC, however, the Orange LALC changed its final position to neutral. Despite the WTOCWAC being a registered RAP that had written it did not support the proposal, the planning system favours LALCs over traditional custodians who are not part of LALCs and therefore the state government was able to ignore the WTOCWAC's opposition and approve the development anyway.

The area where the tailings dam would be constructed is part of a significant Wiradyuri cultural story that is, at this time, only known to cultural knowledge holders, the Orange LALC and Tanya Plibersek. The cultural significance was clearly enough to 'satisfy' Plibersek that the identified area should be protected under Section 10.

The day that the section 10 application approval was announced was just two days after the 200th anniversary of the Bathurst Wars on August 14 1824, the day on which Governor Brisbane issued a proclamation of martial law which gave rise to a war against Wiradjuri people and colonisers. The war was indiscriminately a war of extermination, with Wiradjuri people fighting back but ultimately forcing to surrender after their population was significantly annihilated and the survivors having dispersed. 200 years later, the elders in the WTOCWAC are some of the many Wiradyuri survivors of the Bathurst Wars. It was during a week long of commemorating and conserving culture that the immensely great news of the Section 10 approval came through.

However, since the announcement, the WTOCWAC group have faced significant backlash from the mining sector and communities at large. In addition, the media has focused on the tears of the McPhillamy gold mine company not being able to get it exactly their way even though their shares have increased by about 16%.

Here are multiple articles weighted toward the mining sector's tears.

I have only seen one (1) mainstream article that actually gives an indigenous voice to the backlash they've been getting for daring to use the coloniser's laws to protect their cultural heritage.

Make a donation to the WTOWAC here. (They are a registered charity and your donation is tax deductible)

Wait, wasn't this post meant to be about the Liberal Party?

Yeah, so remember when The Voice referendum was going up and Peter Dutton said that he would give The Voice another go if it failed, and then when it DID fail, he said he would never give it a shot again? Did you also read the first linked article and read this horrific quote:

“This is not the Australian Labor party of the worker,” Dutton told the Minerals Council’s annual conference this week. “Its members are committed to waging environmental and social crusades, especially against certain industries.” .... The Coalition has carefully analysed the different reasons people had for voting no in last year’s defeated referendum on enshrining an Indigenous voice to parliament in the constitution, and especially those self-identified Labor voters who call themselves working people. Dutton wants to turn that opposition to the voice into disillusionment with the government, and ultimately, votes for the Coalition at the federal election. He reckons the McPhillamys decision helps him do it.

The interests of the mining sector, racism and anti-aboriginal rhetoric goes hand in hand with Peter Dutton's platform. Not only will we never see another attempt at The Voice under a federal Liberal Party, we COULD see an abolition of the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Protection Act, the mechanism that has protected the waters of the Belubula River from being destroyed by the McPhillamy gold mine. The mining sector has been so shaken up by this 'sudden' and 'unprecedented' decision, and with them lining Dutton's pockets it's not unreasonable to predict that abolishing the act could be one of the first things Dutton does if elected.

This would be absolutely devastating for current and any future Aboriginal sites that need to be protected where the planning system has failed to protect them. And this is going to continue to be the case until the planning system can better identify and protect intangible cultural heritage.

We need to stand up for Aboriginal rights, we need to stand up for the protection of Aboriginal cultural heritage, we need to ensure there are pathways for the protection of culture and we need to believe traditional custodians when they walk their truth.

[cauli-flawa]

West Papua is undergoing a crisis currently.

This is a gross oversimplification of the background, but: Both West and Papua New Guinea was initially controlled by the Netherlands. Separate parts of the land were owned by different powers (Germany, Britain, and Australia). The Netherlands were also controlling Indonesia. But, after the Indonesian National Revolution, the Netherlands agreed to grant Indonesia solidarity, but refused to give them West Papua.

The dispute was brought to the UN, who decided to settle it with a ballot - the 1969 Act of Free Choice. Out of 800,000 Papuans, 1,025 got to vote for the nation's future. Indonesia won the ballot, though they did not do so fairly. The handful of "representatives" selected by Indonesia were pressured into voting in their favor. International journalists claimed that the ballot itself was rigged.

The Free Papua Movement (OPM) stemmed from the indigenous Papuans who rejected Indonesia's occupation. They are currently fighting against the Indonesian military.

Meanwhile, Indonesia continues to violate the human rights of the West Papuans. There is very little coverage due to Indonesia prohibiting journalists from reporting it.

On September 6, 2022, Genocide Watch reported that 500,000 West Papuans were killed since 1969, with 100,000 displaced.

The Papuan people do not have the rights to free speech, freedom, and life. Meanwhile, their land is exploited for gold and copper. The Grasburg Copper and Gold mine, owned by the American Company Freeport McMoRan, is one of the largest mines in the world. It is also a source of human rights abuses and utter disregard for West Papua's land.

Other sources:

International Parliament for West Papua (IPWP) Discusses the many human rights abuses West Papuans face.

Wikipedia article Provides more in-detail context.

Human Rights Watch (August 2023 investigation) An investigation on Indonesia's actions.

Human Rights Monitor Contains a selection of articles on West Papua.

An Article from The Guardian reporting the torture and deaths of detained children The article discusses an event from April 7 of that year. A Petition from 2018 to investigate the violations in West Papua.

West Papua: The Genocide That is Being Ignored by the World Article by the Indigenous People's Major Group For Sustainable Development (IPMG SD)

I am not an expert. Please feel free to add more sources and information, and correct errors made in this post.

[pb-dot]

Film Friday: Interstella 5555

The process I employ to figure out what movie to cover on this little column of mine is more of an art than a science. Some times it has me scrolling mindlessly through my letterboxd or netflix history looking for a movie I feel strongly enough about to write about. Other times, I decide to listen to Alive 2007 and realize Daft Punk is one of the best musical acts of all time. So, with that in mind, let's talk about that time they made a movie.

As one might expect for an almost feature-length movie to the 2001 Daft Punk album Discovery, Interstella follows the story of a group of alien musicians who find themselves abducted by extrasolar interlopers, shortly revealed to be humans who takes our blue-skinned friends to earth. Once there, the Interstella gang are brainwashed and disguised as humans in order to work for a skeezy producer slash symphonic orchestra conductor, later revealed to have struck a Faustian bargain with some sort of space satan for eternal life and riches provided he can sacrifice 5555 golden records, and the artists who produced them with it.

It's not the most complex story once you get over the novelty of the reverse alien abduction and space satanism bits, but that is perhaps inevitable, considering this movie has no spoken dialog apart from the odd line or lyrics that is meant to be diegetic. Secondary protagonist who I have dubbed as "guitar spaceship guy," for example, sings Digital Love to himself while cleaning said guitar-shaped spaceship and day-dreaming of the alien band's bass player before receiving his call to action.

The movie probably shines the hardest when there's lot of mechanical stuff going on. The sequence when the Interstella crew gets their brainwashing and humanface disguises, the mechanical beats Harder, Faster, Better, Stronger makes it seem like a How It's Made episode from a much MUCH darker timeline.

It's also interesting to me how the brainwashing does seem to take just fine, but the crew, now under the name Crescendolls, seem morose, still every bit as able to make killer tracks as in their pre-abduction days, but without the clear and apparent joy. Granted, the hardships of being a Commercial Super Hit Artist does probably play into it, but even before that, there's a profound malcontent in them. I almost find myself wishing there was some expository dialog here to explore this. Do they know on some level that they don't belong on earth? That they're being made to do the thing they once loved wholeheartedly for someone else's gain?

It's hard not to speculate on the auteur side of this. The context that Discovery was a departure album from Daft Punk's established house music style, and arguably their entry into the attention of wider pop culture, is similarly hard to ignore. Considering Daft Punk adopted their now-iconic robot mask personae at the same time, it's not hard to read a fear of becoming part of the Pop Machine in Interstella 5555.

If I can now only take a brief digression to talk about the music. Discovery is one of my favorite albums of all time. Filing off the rough edges and at times consciously abrasive soundscapes from earlier releases makes for a compulsively listenable album. I'm particularly fond of how Daft Punk uses vocal performance, primarily through samples as a musical element. The sample of Barry Manilow's paranoid cuckold anthem Who's Been Sleeping In My Bed in Superheroes is somehow both basically incomprehensible and instantly iconic, and the thought of having ears keen enough and musical intuition sharp enough to pick up on it in the first place is one of those genius moves that I understand, but could not replicate for all the gold in the world.

If Interstella 5555 has any flaws, apart from annoyingly being 5 minutes too short to be classified as a feature length film at 65 minutes, it's probably the slightly disposable tragedy of Guitar Spaceship Guy, who's doomed but heroic quest to save Interstella 5555 arguably could have been cut in its entirety. His infatuation with Interstella's bass player plays out in this structurally sound but kind of lifeless romance by the songs Digital Love and Something About Us, and the fact that GSG and Bass Player Lady doesn't actually know each other becomes impossible to ignore. His dying... dream sharing or whatever else is going on there feels like it's following a character arc that isn't there. Bass Player Lady doesn't know him, and crucially, he doesn't know her. It's all parasocial, and he dies shortly thereafter. It's not to say something beautiful couldn't grow from this, and I think that's what they're getting at with the Something About Us sequence, but it does feel like mourning what Didn't Happen, and if we're getting started on that we'll be here all day so let us move on.

Speaking of flaws, the movie does drag a little in the third act. Part of this is the Act 2 Climax feeling more fitting for that sort of thing than the actual climax. It is admittedly a little sweet that the plot resolves when immortal conductor guy's plot is discovered and humanity reacts by rightfully pointing out that a crime has been committed, and hasten to help the Interstella gang find their way home, that's not normally how these plots go, but the slight nuance given to the abduction/humans are the villains plot is very heartening. Seeing our blue alien friends seen off as beloved heroes feels very correct, and similarly, their rediscovery of the joy of music and new role as interplanetary ambassadors is one of those "fuck yeah a better world is possible" things that I'll take a million times over more cynical Dark Forest scenarios.

Speaking of drag, though, the Too Long segment, feels a bit like a lengthy coda to the story we don't need, which is, coincidentally what I think about the song's role on the album as well. All the same, it must be said that while the final showdown by immortal conductor's guy in psychedelic FTL space is pretty cool, and while it still doesn't work for me, Guitar Spaceship Guy helping out the Crescendolls one final time from beyond the grave does endear me ever so slightly to that whole subplot.

Interstella 5555 is an interesting watch, it's clearly a project of way more creative freedom than most animated fare is allowed to be, and it's wild that I can say the phrase "it's also exciting that the movie straight out states that Mozart, Ella Fitzgerald and... I believe Flea of Red Hot Chilli Peppers (?) all were sacrificed to Space Satan." This isn't important to the plot at all, but I feel it just needed to be said. So in short, check it out. Among it's many strengths, the soundtrack kicks some serious ass.

[nitkat-rp-stash]

Hewwo as yall know this is my Rp blog where I do most of my bullshit with my scriblos!

It’s also my first time doing this so umm but a lil nice but aside from that! Here are

THA RULES!!! 💥

1. 18 to 21+ Rps since most of the topics that I’ll do are mixed but most of the time it’s normal. ButI want to be as flexible with the settings with the characters as I can but Mature topics are gonna appear so be careful! (Also I don’t want to interact with minors had very bad experiences with them)

2. NO ROMANCE, NO SHIPPING Unless ur a mutual friend of mine and we are consenting of this.

3. I prefer rping to be a semi literate multiple paragraph style. I'll try to adapt to the best of my ability but 10+ long paragraphs or short ones are a no for me like dawg.

4. I’m open to any type of roleplay! But please be considerate with me, and if there’s any shit ya want to pull in the RP we can discuss it in DMs for further details (so both parties can be on the same page).

5. I’m chill with Rping with Ocs! But I’ll start with a few Au characters and Ocs before I expand on more characters.

6. Please for Fucks sake be nice and non rude for fucks sake, I may take a while due to the bullshit I deal with most of the time.

7. Fandoms that I WILL NOT RP WITH: Anything created by Vivzipop, Celebrities/Real people, country/military shit, DSMP (Or any Minecraft related SMPs). And probably more cause I’m still thinking-

8. Series that I’m familiar : Megaman, Transformers, Pokemon, Steven universe, Digimon, Sonic, Spark the electric jester.

ADDITIONAL INFORMATION:

Character/Muses info-

Megaman X (Anchorage) He is a Reploid, a robot who can think feel and act on his own will. A member of the maverick hunters, he fights against mavericks. reploids who are a danger to society. He fights on and dreams of a Utopia of humans and reploids coexisting in peace. However he still despises fighting so at times he finds different ways to solve problems without violence. He currently runs a rehabilitation (a surprisingly successful) program of helping former mavericks (Who aren’t infected with the virus) and criminals to be reacquainted with society. Holding the belief of second chances, he’s currently married to Marty leader of the rose thorn pirate group for almost 50 years.



Ref:

Volnutt Caskett Light (Legends Reborn)- he's a Carbon, Biomechanical being with the ability to interfacing and changing their limbs with mechanical parts. He is a young adventurous digouter boy, who descends ruins to collect ancient artifacts and special crystals of energy called refractors. Who enjoys going on adventures, naive on aspects of the world and gets into mischief and Danger face first. but he holds a heart of gold. He loves his friends and family very much. He is, importantly, the Youngest Son of the ancient legend megaman X.

Xavier Light: Once upon a lifetime ago he was formally the legendary hero megaman x but now in this flooded world of no war, he is Xavier Light.The assistant of the renowned professor Barrell, aiding his research of Terra’s old civilizations. At the same time the Flutter’s caretaker, performing most domestic duties around the ship. A hardened yet gentle soul that at times provides wisdom and advice to those who need it, especially his youngest son Rock. Despite living a peaceful life Xavier is still a skilled warrior, but he would rather do diplomacy than fighting but when push comes to shove he’ll fight to the bitter end to keep his loved ones safe.

Note: Reborn!X is called Xavier and Anchorage!X is just named X they are are technically the same person but in different Timelines.

OC Verse:

Alice: Alice is a slime based alien being who explores the stars and medical assistance to those who are needed. A carefree mischievous individual who sought the curiosities to different worlds and what she could learn from it. Despite her duty she’s often dropped into the antics of others curious to see how it goes. She enjoys causing a lil bit of mayhem to entertain herself but still committing to her duty of supporting individuals on her travels. Often she enjoys the thrill of adventure and is surprisingly combative despite her status as a medic.

[odinsblog]

Executive summary

Since launching its brutal war of aggression against Ukraine in February 2022, the Russian Federation has been locked into a long and costly conflict. Russia has been diplomatically marginalized, subjected to sanctions, and shunned by most of the Western world. Many multinational companies have been forced by international pressure to shutter or sell their Russian operations, and profiting from cooperation with the Russian state is no longer considered acceptable. Russia has found itself in dire need of new allies and resources.

In this environment, the Kremlin-financed Private Military Company Wagner, or Wagner Group, has served as an increasingly important source of revenue for the Russian state. Founded in 2014 to support pro-Russian forces in Donbas, since then Wagner Group has evolved into a complex international network of private military contractors, disinformation campaign infrastruc-ture, and corporate front companies. It has deployed fighters, propaganda and disinformation campaigns, and financing as a proxy for the Russian state in numerous conflicts, from Syria and Libya to Mali, Central African Republic, and beyond

Wagner has most often been described as an independent mercenary group. This status has provided Russia with a thin veil of deniability, particularly in relation to the numerous plausible accusations of murder, rape, torture, and war crimes raised against Wagner fighters. But in reality, Wagner has always operated with the political and material backing of the Russian Federation to advance Russian state interests.

In Africa, Wagner has been deployed in a number of countries across the continent since 2017. In each country it enters, Wagner deploys military trainers, mercenary fighters, and propaganda experts to support anti-democratic regimes, drive instability, and commit human rights abuses. The mercenary group's ostensible provision of "security services" creates a framework for lucrative business contracts for the extraction of natural resources including diamonds, oil, timber, and especially gold.

This report focuses on the Kremlin's 'blood gold': Gold extracted from African countries and laundered into international markets that provides billions in revenue to the Russian state, thereby directly and indirectly financing Russia's war on Ukraine and global hybrid warfare infrastructure.

The Blood Gold Report's analysis suggests that Wagner and Russia have earned more than US$2.5 billion from blood gold since the full-scale invasion of Ukraine in February 2022. The report focuses on the case studies of Wagner's blood gold operations in the Central African Republic, Sudan, and Mali. In each of these coun-tries, Russia profits from the blood gold trade in different ways:

In CAR, the mercenary group has been granted exclusive extractive rights for the Ndassima mine, the country's largest gold mine, in return for propping up President Touadera's authoritarian regime. Wagner's Ndassima operations are understood to produce US$290 million of gold annually, while local miners have been pushed aside or murdered by the mercenary group.

In Sudan, through control of a major refinery, Wagner has become the dominant buyer of unprocessed Sudanese gold as well as a major smuggler of processed gold. Russian military transporter flights laden with gold have been identified by Sudanese customs officials. While tracking Sudan's unreported gold market is near impossible, estimates suggest that almost Us$2 billion in gold is smuggled out of the country unreported every year, with 'the Russian Company' in prime position to take advantage.

In Mali, Wagner is paid a monthly retainer - estimated at US $10.8 million per month - to prop up a brutal military junta Meanwhile the junta is in turn dependent on a small number of Western mining companies for the revenue it needs to pay Wagner. Mining companies contributed more than 50% of all tax revenues to the Malian state for 2022. Barrick Gold Corporation, a Canadian listed company and Mali's single biggest tax contributor, paid US$206 million in the first half of 2023 alone.

The junta is increasing its financial demands on gold mining companies. Meanwhile, the four largest gold mining companies (weighted by tax contribution) continue to plan further investments in the country, despite the well-documented abuses of the military junta and growing influence of the Wagner Group.

Wagner's blood gold operations in CAR and Sudan have been subject to sanctions, and the Kremlin-backed mercenaries have developed increasingly complex smuggling routes and corporate subterfuge tactics to move blood gold out of these countries and convert this gold into cash.

In contrast, the Malian blood gold system enables Wagner to remain one degree removed from gold production. Instead, legitimate multinational mining companies convert gold into cash for the Malian military junta without triggering international sanctions.

To secure its position in a target country's political and natural resource extraction landscape, Wagner's African playbook consists of a four-pronged attack on the host country's civic institutions and civilian population - suppressing political opposition, spreading disinformation, silencing free media and terrorising civilians.

The ultimate objective of Wagner's playbook is to increase its clients' dependence on Wagner forces to stay in power, thereby securing a long-term revenue stream for the Kremlin and fostering authoritarianism and instability throughout the region as part of Russia's wider geopolitical strategy to distract and bog down the democratic West.

Since the death of Wagner's leader Yevgeny Prigozhin, the mercenary group has formally come under the control of the Russian State. Yet the Kremlin's focus on Africa, and its blood gold operations, show no signs of changing.

(continue reading)

[seriously-not-horny]

D's D&D Recap: Session 2

Following the parties success in the mines, the group has set about acquiring more money to build their ship. As part of their introduction into the Inner City, they had stopped at the Misfits Consultant Agency, an adventerers guild that went global commercially, offering their services and adventerers to complete various quests and missions for the general public.

In addition to this, those of the criminal persuasion can pick up "The Blacklist" a series of less than legal jobs that are off the books. The Key, being a thief, immediately jumped at the opportunity, and gained intel on a potential heist they could pull in order to steal a chest of gold from Acquisitions Incorporated, a mega-corporation that has developed a monopoly on magical curiosities and the collection and resale of those curiosities.

Spending an evening in the tavern they've been residing in, they plan out their heist, and ultimately decide to hit the caravan transporting the gold before it arrives at the storage facility nearby. They would create a series of dramatic effects, utilising The Aberration ability to shape shift, and a series of coloured smoke grenades they received from a local artificer the Construct had befriended in the city. This same Artificer was also responsible for repairing the Mimir that The Construct had found during session zero, granting the party access to a powerful tool and encyclopedia of planar knowledge.

On their way out of the Inner City, and passing through the Outer City, they pass by the resident temple of The Priest, and discover that the sisterhood of peaceful healers and clerics that worshipped there had been conscripted into the armies of humankind, forced to convert their temple into a triage for the wounded soldiers that would soon be returning from the battlefront. It is during this visit that The Priest, a devout pacifist and pious young woman, was handed her conscription papers, and informed she is to report to the front lines to act as a battle medic. This desecration if her temple is the first prediction from the cards to come true.

The Priest card, Reversed: A place that was consecrated, but has been converted to secular use.

Despite the disrespectful and dismissive tones of the soldiers within the temple, the Priest keeps a level head, and accepts this test of her faith. Mother Lariette, The High Priestess of the temple, and adoptive mother of the young and orphaned Priest, also discovers that the mysterious basket if treats that The Priest had received as a gift happened to be a Haven Satchel, a magical basket containing an extra dimensional space, used to stabilising and transporting wounded or dying individuals. These baskets are rare, and Mother Lariette is both pleased and perplexed as to why someone would offer her adoptive daughter such an important object.

Leaving the temple, they continue on their journey to acquire wealth to provide their group with a ship.

The plan was to disguise The Aberration as a traveler, and plant the smoke grenades along the road the caravan is taking. Thanks to some well timed smoke clouds and The Aberration altering his form to seem petrified, the carvaners panic, cutting their horses loose and running away into the woods, suspecting they have encounters a Gorgon, a bull like monster that petrifies it's foes with it's thick, gaseous breath. In the confusion and the smoke, The Key is able to sneak aboard the caravan and begin picking locks on chests, seeking to locate their chest of gold.

In addition to finding their chest of gold, they also came across a few magical cloaks and a Wildspace Orrery a device that acts as a rotating and changing map that tracks the movements of the planets in the local Wildspace system. Wishing not to leave any evidence of their presence behind, they burn the caravan, and make their escape back towards the Inner City.

Following the success of their heist, the group leveled up, and they set about gathering more materials for their ship. They recruit the owner of the tavern they're residing in, offering to take his busted old ship that had been converted into a bar, and restoring it into a Spelljamming vessel and traveling tavern, allowing the owner to spend his retirement exploring the stars and serving the drinks denizens of Wildspace. They also recruit the Artificer that had provided them the smoke grenades, after learning that he was in considerable debt, and was ultimately the one that posted the heist to the blacklist, revealing that in order to make ends meet, he had resorted to stealing money from Acquisitions Incorporated and salvaging his materials instead. They grant him his share of the gold they stole from the caravan, and hit the Spelljamming dock to get their parts and equipment lists in order.

Finally, they joined up with The Spacer Guild, a guild designed to cater to space faring travelers and Spelljamming captains. The guild offers services to guild members, such as free repairs and restocking of ship supplies, as well as acting as the agency responsible for handling the employment and payment of ship crew.

In summary, my players are progressing a lot faster than I anticipated! They've already managed to acquire materials and a suitable hull for their basic ship, they simply need to arm it, upgrade it, and stick a Spelljamming helm into it, and they'll be ready to enter Wildspace (3 whole levels before I anticipated them to)

[lotus-tower]

My Orochi Stood Up: A Draconic Response to "eat shit and die"

tshirt3000’s seminal essay, “eat shit and die,” illuminates the fact that in any sillyserious discussion of Gintama, there is a recurring tension–or overlap, or slippage, or push-and-pull–between the motif of the anus and the motif of the phallus. Far from being contradictory, however, this dynamic conceptual tug of war has the potential to be not only meaning-generating, but fundamental to a thematic understanding of Gintama. In this essay, I aim to illustrate how applying a certain homebrewed framework of mine can help make sense of these interwoven concepts and provide symbolic structure to their analysis. I’m talking, of course, about the ouroboros–also known as the snake eating its own tail.

As we all know, Gintama is full of phalluses. The sword is basically a matryoshka doll of motifs all on its own (or, to invoke tshirt invoking Barthes, the beginning of a chain of images, or significants). But the same vulgar toilet humour that leads to Gintama being chock full of dick jokes (and balls jokes, which for many reasons can be conflated with dick jokes, a primary one being that the Neo Armstrong Jet Cyclone Armstrong Cannon, practically a mascot of Gintama in its own right, stands strong, beautiful, and trinitas) also leads to plenty of hole jokes. Guys like Sorachi thinks it’s funny when the protagonist gets something stuck in his butt, or when gay sex exists, or when a guy is a sub. But there’s no need to discuss this part in depth–just read tshirt’s essay.

There’s a saying among my friend group: “all there is in Gintama is head and hole.” 

Why do the sages say this? First of all because it’s funny. Second of all because it’s true. You can reduce everything in Gintama to essentially two things. Shouyou and Utsuro. Gintoki and Takasugi. Humans and monsters. Those who swing the sword right and those who swing it wrong. Those who take in and those who are taken in. Those who keep struggling and those who don’t. And then you can also always reduce these two things to one thing: Shouyou/Utsuro are, after all, the same being, even if they’re not; Gintoki; simply people, Gintoki once more; Gintoki yet again; and struggling itself. Because losing is part of struggling too. You can’t pick yourself back up if you never lost in the first place. We know that Gintoki has managed to become “a splendid human” by the end of the series–so what was he before that? Was he really a monster? At what exact point in the series did he become human? Was it while he was on-screen, while we were looking, but without us noticing? Was it off-screen, while we were flipping the page, or in the space between the panels? The answer, of course, is that he was learning to be human every day of his life, and if you were to assign him a static, general status to put on a wiki profile under ‘“species”, it would be: “becoming human.” And so “which one is the head and which one is the hole?” is the wrong question. Even if you assigned one to each half and managed not to be wrong, since they’re collapsible into one anyway, they’ll always be both.

In my ouroboros collage, I used western alchemy to stylize this struggle. This forging of the soul into a precious metal, language used by Gintama itself. Chrysopoeia–the making of gold. Or silver, as it were. But the ouroboros isn’t just a major symbol of alchemy. I chose it because, simply put, it’s the It girl. It does it all. It’s a snake. It’s a dragon. It circles the world. It represents eternity. It’s a loop. And while the ouroboros, alchemically, is a western symbol, the snake eating its tail is not. As I noted in my collage, the ouroboros and the world serpent are images that appear in traditions around the world.

I’m going to state the obvious: yes, the snake eating its own tail is the head and the hole. After all, the snake eating its own is also a symbol of fertility: the snake’s tail is phallic, its mouth yonic. Male and female, yin and yang–these are all things the ouroboros represents, because it ultimately embodies the cosmological interplay of complementary forces necessary to sustain a truly endless cycle. Now, tshirt’s essay could not be more clearly about the anus most specifically. But in this essay? Love is love, hole is hole. Sorry tshirt.

In all sillyseriousness, as tshirt details in their essay, the anus “following hocquenghem, normally stands in for the individuating function which itself gives root to desiring within the social sexual system, and the means by which we might therefore transcend the phallus.” Note the term “individuating function.” In my ouroboros collage, I included the following idea from philosopher Bernard Stiegler about the individuation process: “The I is essentially a process, not a state, and this process is an in-dividuation — it is a process of psychic individuation. It is the tendency to become one, that is, to become indivisible.” Indeed, Carl Jung (yes, that Jung) saw the ouroboros as the ultimate symbol of the “paradox” at the heart of the individuation process. Many of the lines in the second half of my poem are from him. Specifically, they’re from this one key paragraph from his Collected Works, vol. 14:

The alchemists, who in their own way knew more about the nature of the individuation process than we moderns do, expressed this paradox through the symbol of the Ouroboros, the snake that eats its own tail. The Ouroboros has been said to have a meaning of infinity or wholeness. In the age-old image of the Ouroboros lies the thought of devouring oneself and turning oneself into a circulatory process, for it was clear to the more astute alchemists that the prima materia of the art was man himself. The Ouroboros is a dramatic symbol for the integration and assimilation of the opposite, i.e. of the shadow. This 'feedback' process is at the same time a symbol of immortality since it is said of the Ouroboros that he slays himself and brings himself to life, fertilizes himself, and gives birth to himself. He symbolizes the One, who proceeds from the clash of opposites, and he, therefore, constitutes the secret of the prima materia which ... unquestionably stems from man's unconscious.

I believe the relevance of these quotes to Gintama is clear at this point. Because as I said, everything in Gintama is reducible to two opposing forces, which is then reducible to one. The ouroboros fundamentally embodies the paradox of Two, Yet One. And through the style and language of alchemy, it turns this paradox into the preeminent human endeavour, the Great Work of human existence. tshirt’s identification of Gintoki as “a reluctant hole” (very queer I agree) positions him perfectly here as the poor, tragic hero who, despite everything, Is Doing It–who is both recipient and victim of his own wisdom about the undertaking he must choose to embark on. It is a task that will last forever, even after he’s already succeeded. (In Gintama, therefore, to be a reluctant hole can denote both a noun and a verb.) And yet, there can be traced a definite “before” and “after.” In its literal shapes and features, the ouroboros forms an imperfect circle–it is a cyclical figure that necessarily depicts a break in the cycle, where mouth meets tail, where there must be an opening. A gap that must despite the snake’s best efforts exist, because a mouth is not a tail at the end of the day. Something that may seem like an insignificant smudge in the great flow of time, but that was nonetheless enough to shatter Utsuro’s “eternity.” 

Though in some depictions, including the most iconic one, you can see the gap full well. Look. Does it seem like it’s smiling to you?

(We know Shouyou smiled right before he died–do you think that severed head of his still held a smile?)

There are a lot of other things I could say about hole. Like a hole being a sort of lack, something to be filled–a void, perhaps, one that gets artificially filled with all kinds of detritus as part of the process of person-making in Gintama. Or I could say something about the displacement or potential conflation of one kind of hole with another when your protagonist is male, cis, virile (alleged), and obviously straight in a way that makes anal sex jokes funny, and PIV jokes only too racy for Jump. Alas, this isn’t an essay on Gintama hole theory, so while there’s still much to be said about head and hole, I think it’s time we move on to one of the most important elements of the ouroboros thesis: 

The dragon.

Now, the terms ryuumyaku and ryuuketsu were not invented by Gintama. As mentioned in my annotation part one (I now understand why Final Fantasy XV gave out crucial information about its story in disparate chunks spread across multiple mediums instead of behaving normally), the concept of “dragon veins” is part of real life Japanese traditions, and is tied to feng shui. The idea of concentrated life energy, or natural power, flowing through the earth along certain paths, like ley lines, is a rather common one across the world, and thus a basic building block of fantasy worlds. In my poem I highlight the geo-somatic aspect of this, how it conflates Utsuro with the planet that birthed him, effectively turning him into a world snake that walks on two feet. The tendrils of his re-knitting flesh resemble strands of hair, or perhaps the whiskers on a dragon, his blood is a river is Altana is precious oil to be extracted and hoarded by intergalactic powers, his heart is a deep, blood-red stone that denies that his blood was ever liquid, and smoke rises from him when he regenerates as though the fire that Shouyou’s body was thrown into was never truly put out.

What’s notable, though, is the person who delivers the line that draws these comparisons most concretely:

Yes, I’m cannibalizing part 2 of my annotation here. Very sad. But I’ve always said I wished Gintama had more cannibalism. So let’s press on.

Umibouzu is uniquely positioned to make this observation here because he’s the only character to have fought… well, to have come into, shall we say, “fighting range,” with both of the series’ immortals. And as uninteresting as he may be as an individual character, it’s through him that we finally gain access to a straight-on view of Kouka–specifically, Kouka on Rakuyou, before she left her planet to die femininely. 

I won’t rehash too much of what I’ve already said in my collage and annotation. The Orochi on Kouan is a world snake much like the blurry dragon-vein-Utsuro-Shouyou package on Earth: a serpent with innumerable heads, both singular and plural, this time in a more literal way than Utsuro’s multiple selves or the image of a river flowing into countless streams. It’s wrapped all around planet Kouan like… well, a world snake. Or… a world tree. Because as much as it’s clearly a serpent of the Orochi archetype, it’s described in both animalistic and vegetative language (e.g., it has “roots” that spread into the planet’s core, where they soak up the Altana… but the planet is its “nest”). Kouan’s dragon is thus a mutated beast that defies easy categorization, part mythical symbol, part serpent, part plant. Kouan, after all, is no longer capable of supporting normal life, its atmosphere and soil too toxic for anything but mutants. The Orochi, then, is an animated, aberrant substitution for the Lifestream, one whose roots have replaced the planet’s veins, one that can express aggressiveness and loneliness, and whose fleshy corporeality allows Umibouzu to…

…make a bad dick joke. Naturally.

Kouka and the Orochi aren’t conflated the way that Utsuro and the dragon veins are. The Orochi is not her body: being its own creature, it appears much more separate from her than the formless glowing green Sephiroth energy does from Utsuro. But interestingly, they are mistaken for each other through the title of “Master of Kouan,” which the Orochi acts as a decoy for before the story “reveals” that it refers to Kouka. And Sorachi makes clear: the Orochi is lonely. The planet is lonely. Kouka is lonely. The Yato are lonely.

Rabbits can die of loneliness, you know, etc. etc. And as Kagura delivers to us early on in the series, the only way out of this endlessly repeating, and yet endlessly diminishing (sort of like reverse infinite tumblr chocolate) cycle, is to change.

Umibouzu’s dick jokes return us to the self-explanatory phallic-ness of the snake. I don’t think I need to explain the overlap between snakes and dragons, especially in an Asian context. So if Umibouzu is the phallus–the new arrival that introduces change to planet Kouan–then does that make Kouka the hole? Well, yes, but no. Because Kouka is the one associated with the Orochi. Kouka is the immortal, living her life frozen in time until she decides to leave the dragon behind. And in the end, when Umibouzu convinces her to leave with him, he tells her: “You and I are the same. No matter how busy a planet I’m on, no matter how surrounded by people I am. Without you, I’m lonely.” A hole, as we said earlier, is a type of lack. And neither Kouka nor Umibouzu at this point have dirt that can fill that lack–the dirt that, as tshirt put it, “marks the permanence of one’s relationships.” Because only dirt can stick enough, can stain enough to leave an imprint.

Now, in another world where Sorachi isn’t a coward and a boring misogynist, here is where I would be digging into juicy insights into Shouyou|Utsuro’s milfhood, the genderisms of being an Altana immortal, the obvious implications of Umibouzu having been a failed parent unable to deal with Kamui’s situation due to living in the same (shall we say, hole-sided) world as Kamui, which loops back around to Kamui inheriting eldest daughter female hysteria his body isn’t capable of processing a la Oboro, and Kouka’s relationship to the phallus-as-transmissive-samurai-spirit–but given that we sadly don’t live in that better world, there isn’t much I can add to this enumeration that wouldn’t be self-evident.

As an aside, it does have to be said: the nature of the snake swallowing its own tail as a simultaneously self-fellating symbol and an established motif of macrocosmic heterosexual (re)creation of the universe perfectly encapsulates Gintama’s relationship to sexual jokes and the linkages it creates using vulgar wordplay. And it’s also the sort of thing my friend tshirt would love to quote Freud on. Another way of looking at it is that the microcosm of the universe in Gintama is a queer human, who is probably a pervert. Which seems glaringly obvious when you think about it outside of the context of this essay for two seconds. 

Anyway, as Jung said, the ouroboros is not just self-sustaining, but self-fertilizing. Or perhaps self-sustaining is a potentially misleading term, because by nature it cannot remain static. It can only slay itself, and give birth to itself once more. Utsuro was never the same person twice. But what does it mean to be self-fertilizing? It means, above anything else, that in the end people give hope to themselves. That Shouyou put in the work, and that what Shouyou gave birth to was, in essence, the same as himself. 

An endlessly replicating chain of Shounen Determination.

Of course, this goes both ways as well.

Shouka Sonjuku, then, is the embodiment of Shouyou’s self-fertilization–a motif taken up by Gintoki, our illustrious shounen protagonist enacting the genre-typical inspire and change everyone you touch. At the same time–or, you could say, anachronistically–Gintoki is enacting his own self-fertilization, fertilizing his own soul–or tama, or egg–with pieces of everybody that touches him. Because, though the hole is a lack, it is simultaneously where the crux of this self-transformation takes place. As tshirt puts it so succinctly, “the anus—the dirty human things—is the home for the phallus—the ideals we hold, the source of our power.” The scabbard for the sword of one’s soul, so to speak, but that metal for that sword is made up of fragments from many sources–as the Rakuyou arc anime illustrated for us so memorably.

In the Shinsengumi Crisis arc, Kondou (whose status as butt monkey for the crassest of Gintama’s jokes positions him in a unique way for these things) says something similar: nobody is being dyed in another’s colour. It’s hard to even say what colour other people’s souls really are, if everyone’s soul is made up of broken off bits and shards and dead things (positive) from all over the place, like beach sand. What Itto has mistaken as a form of influence over others, as the level of dominance of one’s soul, is really just:

“Because it’s something annoying that you can’t get rid of, in the end it becomes troublesome when you start to care about it.” Or something like that. The translation here is probably at least a little suspect, but you get the gist of it. tshirt’s analysis of gorillahood is potentially interesting and relevant here as well, but I’m afraid I have to move on for the sake of keeping things on track. 

It’s worth noting that even as, from Gintoki’s perspective, Shouyou smiled at him right before he died, from Shouyou’s perspective (and of course, from Takasugi’s)–Gintoki smiled back. 

Incidentally, the chapter two chapters before this one was named “The Two Utsuros.” Later on in this scene, Sakamoto refers to “the two Yoshida Shouyous.” And on this page, we see two Gintokis. Isn’t Gintama fun?

What of Kouka, then? I think her situation is clear. She created literal children of the flesh rather than of the spirit–and there is unfortunately little else to say, because even this is quite obviously a cliche of the dead anime mom. The context of Gintama’s story is enough for us to assume an implication of her having transmitted something to her children, of them carrying on her legacy in some way… but her character is too woefully undeveloped for me to say anything particularly interesting about that. What little I can say is essentially what I depicted in my annotations. When Umibouzu wants to whisk her away from Kouan, Kouka asks him–why did you remind me of these emotions? At the end of Silver Soul, it becomes clear that Utsuro’s professed “void” is not so empty after all–just like Kouka, he had simply been denying that he felt anything that ran contrary to his driving force, i.e. the power of his great resignation (“eat shit and die” terminology intended). For a long time, Kouka was resigned to staying on her planet–on her dragon–as its heads multiplied. In the end, she chooses to leave the planet behind, willingly sundering her eternity, and the planet watches her go. She dies because she became alive–just like Shouyou. It’s also worth noting that, when Kouka initially tries to disappear from Umibouzu, it’s the Orochi that points Umibouzu to her location, blending them into a sort of phallic comrade-in-arms, even as the Orochi is, as I said earlier, attached to Kouka’s existence. So in this ouroboros reading, Umibouzu simply becomes a device for her self-fertilization. Yayyyyy. 

Here we can see the relevance of wordplay and dick jokes to any sillyserious analysis of Gintama. The motif of self-fertilization, in particular, is a rich arena for the conflation of sex and shit that tshirt notes is enabled by Gintama’s beloved [BLEEP]: “connected by dirty things can implicitly stand in for shit, sex, or the penis itself.” In the ouroboros framework, both sex and shit ultimately denote that which gives birth to others and that which gives birth to yourself. Your legacy is made of the same stuff as you, is you, and you are finally brought into being by your legacy, in a process that transcends linear time. The ouroboros is literally connected to itself by its own tail–or head, depending on how you look at it. It’s all one snake, after all. I suppose you could say this is one reading in which Takasugi’s ambiguously alive-yet-dead state at the end of the series makes sense–he was always a shadow that could be folded inside Gintoki’s body. But I don’t like it, so it’s actually very bad.

In any case, the procreation of the universe, yourself, and other people happens interdependently and simultaneously, yet something has to happen first. It’s a chicken-or-egg scenario, an endless cycle that needs an initiating key moment–or, to be Utena-esque for a moment, a shell-cracking moment–for life to exist. If Utsuro’s eternity was an egg, then the moment of Shouyou’s birth as a human, itself undefinable in time, was what cracked it (Utsuro egg cracking moment). Of course, I think all Gintama fans innately understand that the moment of Shouyou’s beheading is the single most pivotal moment in the series. But after speaking of head and hole for so long, I think it’s finally time to address the obvious:

Gintama is about severed heads. A lot of them. (Shoutout to oomf’s severed head collection.)

The importance of beheading as a motif throughout the series interacts in a very interesting way with the ouroboros thesis. Some heads in Gintama need to be cut off. Others resolutely need to stay on. But even for the ones that need to be severed, it needs to be done right–or watch out. Or, as I once said:

“gintama is like. sometimes people die when they are killed. but this is not guaranteed. and sometimes people survive because they are killed. among the cast are people who need to die and people who need to survive. choose wisely” (me, 2022)

Within the stylized aesthetic framework of the ouroboros, this is where the metaphor of the hydra becomes useful. Cut off one head, and two more will sprout in its place. If you don’t swing the executioner’s blade right, the monster will remain a monster–or grow even more monstrous. Even worse, you will have failed to possess a human’s heart while swinging that blade–so what does that make you? Failing at being human in relation to the sword, then, puts you in danger of falling into the neurotic failure state described by Freud described by Hocquenghem described by tshirt. 

Gintoki didn’t fail, though. He just wasn’t able to succeed yet, without the rest of his story having unfolded yet. And so, within that paradoxical instant, the very heart of the ouroboros, Shouyou was saved and Utsuro was born. There is a persistent, and I would argue intentional, analytical ambiguity to this moment unless you allow for the paradox within it, represented by the moment of duplication where Sorachi likens Gintoki to Utsuro and presents both as the “one” wielding the sword. If Gintoki killed Shouyou with a human’s blade, then why was Utsuro born? If Utsuro killed Shouyou with a monster’s sword, then how did Shouyou’s humanity crystallize? If Gintoki became human throughout the course of Gintama, then how did he possess a human’s sword ten years ago? If he didn’t have a human’s sword and do the right thing back then–how could he have been the bottomless mirror standing unbreakable and infinitely reflective in front of Takasugi, Hijikata, Kamui, Nobume, and so many others?

Diegetically, of course, the answer is that Gintoki simply did the best he could, lost everything, and then picked himself back up and un-lost everything. Shouyou, too, just lost to Utsuro, because he was a human, and humans lose all the time, no matter how wise and gnc they might be. But he came back; or he survived; or the world survived without him–it doesn’t matter. Of course, I don’t believe Gintama is a series where you can really separate the “diegetic” from anything else (if you tried to explain anything that happened in it that way, the result would be not only very dull but hardly accurate). In a blend of shounen inspirational metaphor and absurdity, the series’ main themes are simply delivered through the mouths of various characters, without care for either subtlety or compromise. This is, after all, the series where our protagonist was given strength to keep going through a little girl telling him, don’t worry, mister, when I grow up I’ll become a splendid executioner and cut your head off for you! You could say that Gintama is full of a sort of “head anxiety” that only Gintoki is aware of. Oh man, I cut my teacher’s head off. Oh man, what if I did it wrong, that was so scary. What about my head, is my head weird? I bet it’s weird. Is it coming off? Is it stuck on too tight? Is this normal? Is my head too small for my body? Man, I can’t show people this. When is it coming off? Asaemon’s words also link the promise of death with the promise of life, or redemption–he must live so that he might die, and it’s only through death that he can truly live. Very ouroboros-esque. 

One thing I’d like to point out here is that Gintoki was imprisoned after Shouyou’s death. He hears Yaemon’s crucial, This Is A Surprise Tool That Will Help Us Later speech about beheading only after he’s already gone and beheaded someone. This is both straightforward foreshadowing and also unintentionally funny. But what I’m going to argue here is this: the fact that the Reaper Arc comes before Shogun Assassination for us makes it true enough for Gintoki as well. Because the moment Gintoki sliced Shouyou’s head off was the moment Shouyou’s humanity was affirmed, and thus the moment Utsuro’s “eternity” could be confirmed to have shattered. At the same time, it’s the moment of Utsuro’s birth into the world. In other words, it’s where the ouroboros ends and where it begins–a moment isolated in time and space, located, if anywhere, in the time of monsters. And this is mimicked by the Gintama narrative itself, as Shogun Assassination marks the end of the structure the entire series existed in prior. A two-year timeskip would never have been possible previously, as the series’ time circled on in endless loops, one anniversary after another, one Christmas season after another, without the characters ever aging, even as they grew wiser. The moment of Gintoki’s tragedy, finally fished out from within Takasugi’s eye, shattered Gintama’s “eternity,” too. 

I’ve already gone and used the hydra, so I’m going to be exceptionally silly here and invoke another piece of ancient Greek mythology, as a homage to hole and to Gintama’s dedication to bad puns: Uranus. According to Hesiod’s account of Aphrodite’s birth, when Uranus’ balls were cut off by his son, the goddess emerged from the white foam that flowed into the sea. You might be asking, am I really going to compare ball removal to decapitation? (This is a rhetorical question. No true Gintama fan would question this.) As I hinted at earlier, Gintama itself already provides the grounds for this kind of comparison through its ideological commitment to balls. It is, after all, Gintama. Phallic or yonic is largely irrelevant here, as this isn’t really about castration (sorry tshirt). Instead I want to emphasize the “head” in this case being the symbolic object imbued with transmissive and procreative power. This interpretation is, in the spirit of Gintama itself, built on playful punning between tama (ball) and atama (head). In the series, Shouyou and Gintoki are the characters who embody the relationship between microcosm and macrocosm most substantially–with Utsuro’s geo-somatic embodiment of Earth juxtaposed with his dominion over the forces of space, while of course also being the premier “dragon” of the series; and Gintoki enfolding the entire story within himself, both the silly and the sad. And so when Gintoki cut off Shouyou’s head, it was the birth of a universe, the “seed” spilling out from that severed neck and setting in motion the story we know and love. 

(Incidentally, the magic sci-fi spark that gives Tama, who ended her introductory arc as a severed head in Otose’s snackhouse, the ability to be human is called “the Seed.” Did you know that Fuyou means lotus?)

(I just thought that was interesting.)

Incidentally, while Japanese mythology sadly doesn’t feature any testicular cosmology, it does offer a rather interesting tidbit. According to the Kojiki, Izanagi and Izanami were tasked by the other deities to create land together using the heavenly spear Amenonuhoko. This is described thus:

Granting to them a heavenly jewelled spear, they [thus] deigned to charge them. So the two Deities, standing upon the Floating Bridge of Heaven, pushed down the jewelled spear and stirred with it, whereupon, when they had stiffed the brine till it went curdle-curdle, and drew [the spear] up, the brine that dripped down from the end of the spear was piled up and became an island. This is the Island of Onogoro.

…I think this account speaks for itself. The island of Onogoro became the first piece of Japan (and thus the world), formed out of briny white water, reminiscent of the white foam that Aphrodite sprang out of. Izanagi and Izanami then erected a pillar on the island and built a palace around it, then moved in and started making children. There’s more I could say about Izanagi and Izanami in relation to the ouroboros, but I think that would be too much of a digression. In any case, it takes little effort to imagine why multiple peoples long ago might have looked at sea brine and seen in it an intuitive symbol for creation and genesis–especially a people for whom the sea was a literal source of life. But what I’d really like to draw your attention to is the translator’s footnote on the translation of “jewelled spear”: 

The characters translated “jewelled spear” are [], whose proper Chinese signification would be quite different. But the first of the two almost certainly stands phonetically for [] or [],—the syllable nu, which is its sound, having apparently been an ancient word for "jewel" or "head," the better-known Japanese term being tama. (Unfortunately, the characters can't be displayed.)

And there you have it. Is a “spear” really that different from a sword when you think about it, especially when it’s a spear carrying that kind of symbolism? Or, as tshirt put it, “the pole and the hole.” And I’d like to remind you that Utsuro’s body is likened to the land of Japan itself through the very-much-Japanese concept of ryuumyaku, not just my own artistic derangements. His blood is the life-bringing sea, his flesh the earth of the archipelago. When he fell back into the mouth of the earth at the end of Silver Soul, he was falling back into his own mouth, the serpent devouring itself once again. 

Unfortunately for Utsuro, within the confines of this essay the mouth is akin to the asshole. Hole is hole: this I did solemnly swear to you at the start of this essay, and I intend to uphold my vow. Utsuro, then, falls back into Hole, and the earth spits him back out–hydra head clumsily cut off, having sprouted into two once more. You could compare, perhaps, Shouyou only re-emerging after having been thrown back into the dragon vein and shaken around a bit to Gintoki’s soul’s own instinct to fly towards buttholes when knocked out of its proper container. In the bodyswap arc, Gintoki gets hit by a truck and sadly survives, though his soul is shaken loose and part of it breaks off (no wonder, when it’s made up of so many little bits), and ends up entering the asshole of a dead cat. Gintoki is essentially a dead-eyed catboy, so this is an easy mistake to make. Additionally, in one of the most memorable gags of  the final arc, Gintoki gets swallowed by Sadaharu and pooped back out, but missing two-thirds of his body that, again, accidentally came apart from him while he was in there. They need to be recombined in Sadaharu’s guts, which through his connection to Altana as an inugami constitutes a makeshift dragon hole, until Gintoki finally exits hale and whole from his dog’s asshole.

What did he mean by this?

Well, first of all, it seems like you have to be gentle with Gintoki, despite appearances. He’s made up of so many bits and pieces and people that parts of himself will break off without him even noticing. Second, these gags link the idea of plurality to dirt to the anus as the site of the reconstitution of the self. Or, as Jung said, the “integration and assimilation of the opposite, i.e. of the shadow.” Gintoki’s shadow can be represented by Takasugi. Or it can be represented by a naked, hyper-muscular Hello Kitty monster made up of his memories of war and his gambling addiction. They’re both missing an eye and have PTSD, so close enough. What’s fun is that in the Sadaharu gag, the punchline, “Gin San,” is about Gintoki’s name–the “Gin-san” identity he must take on once more to be able to face Shinpachi and Kagura. The joke faintly echoes the tonally very different scene on Rakuyou, where Gintoki told Kamui that Kagura and the others filled his emptiness, giving him the new name of “Gin-chan.” Asaemon, of course, also echoes parts of this, as her primary narrative role is to not-so-subtly provide guidance for the reader to understand and resolve Gintoki’s thematic journey, a parallel made more digestible through her distance from Gintoki as a feminine, vulnerable, indecisive character whose past is totally illuminated to us. At the end of her arc, she kills herself, and gives birth to her new self, like any healthy Gintama character.

Indeed, Gintama’s moral is to “fight yourself,” so naturally all the characters who haven’t given up yet are constantly in the process of devouring themselves. But this is a different process than emptying yourself, which is what the antagonists are doing. All Gintama villains are hole-sided, desperately trying to destroy themselves while pretending, as hard as they can, that they don’t know that you can’t destroy a hole–only make it bigger. I emptied myself on purpose, Kamui insists. I did it intentionally and edgily, so it’s different and your criticism is void. He truly is an 18 year-old boy. Kamui and Takasugi were unable to accept themselves as the ultimate fruit of Kouka and Shouyou’s transformations–their magnum opus. It’s interesting that in their very last snapshots, both of them are bodily changed, taking on younger forms invoking a sense of renewal; Takasugi literally being pooped out of a dragon hole as an ugly infant. While I don’t subscribe to Altana immortal Takasugi theory, in a literal sense Shouyou died and Takasugi was reborn–or, to be more precise, Shouyou returned to the macrocosm, to the lands and grasses and waters of the dragon’s earthly body, and Takasugi re-emerged in his micro (short joke) place. After all, the ouroboros always gives birth to itself, and Takasugi was never expelled. He has always been a part of Shouyou. As Sakamoto said, it’s only natural. 

As for Kamui… I originally had a section here discussing his case, centered on his tag-team battle with Kagura against the Eldest, that one-off Silver Soul villain who is first presented to us almost like a strange, low-budget imitation of Utsuro. 

However, as much as this guy does end up being a living dick and balls joke, I’ve decided to reserve this material for a future essay where I can delve into the question of blood more fully. So consider this a teaser. This essay has gone on long enough, I think.

So what can we conclude from it? As tshirt observes, Sorachi cannot resist the phallus (or the balls), even beyond the obvious “sword” metaphor. Viewed from the lens of the ouroboros framework, however, Gintama’s insistence on wordplay enables interesting meaning to be derived from these dirty jokes and their interaction with other motifs in the story. After all, the name of the series itself elevates the spirit of the balls joke, even if unintentionally, to the same level as the other metaphor in the title: “silver.” In “eat shit and die,” tshirt notes the important role that conflation plays in both Gintama’s humour and meaning-making, a role we’ve seen repeatedly in this essay with the purposeful blurring of person and dragon and planet, and its deliberate use of paralleled “other selves.” 

But perhaps the singularly most important example is the -tama in Gintama, with its plethora of potential meanings, each of them just silly and dirty enough that you have to take it seriously. Beyond the obvious joke on kintama (balls) and the “silver soul” meaning (which the series could not be more explicit about), we’ve seen that tama is also easily conflated with atama (head), and even with tamago (egg). This is clearly demonstrated with the series’ fixation on beheading leading to the salvation of the soul and the bodyswap arc hinging on the pun between soul and egg, which English translators very impressively retained using “egg” and “ego.” The fact that the characters end up turning into giant turds, likening the soul-egg-balls to an asshole, only drives the point in further. In this essay, I took things one step further in mapping these different motifs onto the phallic and yonic/anal (the holeic, if you will). After all, the tension between the phallic and the anal is fundamental to the ouroboros’ symbolism. It is this tension, and this complementarity, that leads to both destruction and creation, death and renewal. One of the reasons I chose the ouroboros as my stylization of choice is that Gintama perfectly encapsulates that central concept of death as rebirth–while throwing in the seemingly contradictory case of the main villain, who is very much Rebirth, But Bad. The ouroboros, then, supplies the symbolic technology to convert the inherent contradictions and sometimes difficult to navigate ambiguities of Gintama’s thematic structure into a more legible, metaphorically potent form.

As I noted in the beginning of this essay, every character in Gintama is ultimately both head and hole, both the beginning and end of the serpent, as the two belong to a single entity. If the head demands the cold bite of the executioner’s sword, the void inside of people also needs to be filled with the essence of others before they can be properly human. You can’t behead yourself–you need someone else to swing the blade. And yet that person is also, in some way, you. The one restoring you to humanity is yourself, the one slaying you is yourself, the one you give birth to is ultimately yourself.

The serpent eating its own tail’s self-fertilization schema is the key tying together the draconic motif of the ouroboros with the tangle of messy metaphors, tautological themes, and fraught relationships that make up Gintama. Naturally, the throughline running through it all is dirt–of the dirty joke variety, but also dirt as that which clings to others, dirt that fills, dirt that stains, dirt that, in short, remains. If the phallic is what inseminates and transmits (as the sword that releases and crystallizes, as the heavenly spear that leads to genesis), in other words tama as “balls,” then the anal is the scabbard for the sword, the vessel that receives and holds on to the seed that is dirt, the cradle where our soul is fertilized–in other words tama as “egg.” Tama as “soul,” then, is simply the combination of these things, the result of this self-fertilization: it is ourselves. When all is said and done, this is reducible to a rather simple message that Gintama has always had: you cannot make yourself alone, but that is hardly a problem or an excuse, because you are never as alone as you think you are.

Let us end on the question of Gintoki’s wooden sword, or as tshirt put it so insightfully, his “prosthetic phallus.” In the end, in Gintama all souls are artificially–yet organically–created through the process of chrysopoeia. tshirt’s argument that Gintoki’s wooden sword is made all the more transgressive for not being a “real” sword highlights the fact that even in the most surface-level reading, Gintoki’s wooden sword is more sword-like exactly because it invokes the idea of one without the technical reality. The “human’s sword” that Gintoki attains at the end of the series is airy and abstract, but more than readily understood by the reader because that is the kind of sword he’s been wielding all along.

As I noted before, even if Gintoki has become human, his task has not ended. The Great Work will continue forever, even after it’s already been accomplished. If the human is the microcosmos and the stuff inside them is, as Jung says, the prima materia, the formless base element of the universe, then it is not only the fruit but also the process itself that creates the world. And though this essay has not been about queer theory, let it be said that the profundity with which Gintama treats the act of self-transformation, along with the nuances and textures of Gintoki as a “reluctant hole,” make him a captivating protagonist on more levels than one. And of that desperate struggle to produce a human being, of the base substance inside of people that is their only natural material, let me quote the 17th century Theatricum Chemicum, on the subject of the prima materia:

They have compared the "prima materia" to everything, to male and female, to the hermaphroditic monster, to heaven and earth, to body and spirit, chaos, microcosm, and the confused mass; it contains in itself all colors and potentially all metals; there is nothing more wonderful in the world, for it begets itself, conceives itself, and gives birth to itself.

Emphasis mine.

Appendix A:

[lookninjas]

You know, it's interesting to me that I saw an article as I was scrolling through my dash this morning that (supposedly) blames the U.S. for being deeply involved in a genocide in Sudan. You might think from such a description that we'd be talking about U.S. military aid or boots on the ground or the CIA or something like that, and not just the Trump administration tanking our diplomatic efforts and Biden's administration not making the best decisions to right the ship. You might also think that such an article would not include a section like this:

David Satterfield, who replaced Feltman as US special envoy to the Horn of Africa and who has since resigned, said that Washington did not have anything but bad choices in Sudan, and therefore had to strike deals with the Sudanese military. According to Satterfield, “If there is ever an opportunity to return to a path towards restoration of a civilian-led government, you’re going to have to talk to the military then as well.

You also might not think that such an article would outright reference Russian involvement in Sudan, which it does.

Russia believes that its strong presence in Sudan will augment its status in Africa and the Middle East, which is considered an American redoubt. Since 2014, and with Moscow’s aspirations to exploit African mineral riches, the Kremlin has strengthened its ties to Sudan in order to ameliorate western sanctions following its invasion of Crimea, sanctions that became even harsher after its invasion of Ukraine in February 2022.16 In 2017, former Sudanese President al-Bashir visited Russia and met with Russian President Vladimir Putin. The two countries agreed to establish a holding company run by the paramilitary Wagner Group to mine gold ore. Russia also signed a 25-year lease in December 2020 to build a military base at Port Sudan on the Red Sea that can receive nuclear-powered ships. It was also interesting that Hemedti headed an official delegation to Moscow on the eve of the Russian invasion of Ukraine.

And while we're talking about Russian involvement in Sudan, which is why I'm here in the first place, it's really really really interesting to me that this article was phrased as proof that the U.S. was heavily involved in genocide in Sudan, despite the fact that the Russian Wagner group (accused of war crimes in Ukraine) has been providing missiles and military training to the Sudanese paramilitary group RSF while smuggling gold out of Sudan to fund their own activities in Ukraine. Fun fact about the Wagner group: They're also heavily involved in social media misinformation campaigns.

Wasn't there a Russian misinformation campaign on tumblr leading up to the Presidential elections in 2016?

And despite the "mysterious" death of Yevgeny Prigozhin in a plane crash (a short time after his aborted march on Moscow), Russia is still working on bringing the Wagner organization back under their control. Because, you know, they still have that whole invasion of Ukraine they're working on. An invasion of Ukraine that would sure be a whole lot easier for them if they could convince Americans to stop providing military support to Ukraine. They're already doing pretty nicely with the Republican party, but the Democrats (and the American left in general) have been harder to get on-side.

It does kind of feel like tying American military involvement in other countries to active genocide would be a great way to discourage people on the American left from supporting continued involvement in Ukraine, wouldn't it?

We're slightly less than a year away from the next American presidential election. There is no reason to believe that the Russian propaganda machine, which has already been operating at full blast since Russia's full-scale invasion of Ukraine in February of 2022, is going to slow down. This quote from the linked article is particularly chilling:

A particular challenge is that people tend to spread falsehoods “farther, faster, deeper, and more broadly than the truth”; this is particularly the case for false political news (Vosoughi, Roy and and Aral, 2018[7]). For example, one study found that tweets containing false information were 70% more likely to be retweeted than accurate tweets (Brown, 2020[8]). Another study found that false information on Facebook attracts six times more engagement than factual posts (Edelson, 2021[9]). In addition, feedback loops between the platforms and traditional media can serve to further amplify disinformation, magnifying the risk that disinformation can be used to deliberately influence public conversations, as well as confuse and discourage the public.

I think it's important to remember, especially now, that we are capable of spreading misinformation. The article about U.S. involvement in Sudan wasn't placed on there by an algorithm. This is fucking tumblr. That was one of my mutuals. Because they're concerned about American military intervention and they're against genocide and it sounded bad and they were upset and they didn't think to read the article. Because they didn't spend the time of Prigozhin's march on Moscow mainlining information on the Wagner group the way that I did, so they didn't go "Hey, Sudan? Wait a minute --" the way I did. Because misinformation that isn't targeted at your group is designed to be easy to spot, so you'll think that the misinformation that is targeted to your group will also be easy to spot, and it fucking isn't.

Because this culture of "If you care, you'll share" has gotten people to click that reblog button without thinking twice about it.

Don't keep falling for it. You don't have to spend an hour digging up sources and pulling out quotes for a ten-note post the way that I did. I'm like this as a human. It's fine if you're not. But if you're not even going to click the link to read the article and actually read it critically (or if there's no sources at all except a twitter screenshot, which I've also seen quite a bit of), then don't reblog it. Save it as a draft for when you have time to do the research, or just don't do anything with it at all. You're not obligated.

And if you have the relevant background to spot the disinfo, I mean -- again, look, you're not obligated to take that hour and search those sources. Even I don't do this all the time. It's hard, it's frustrating, and it will not spread the way the disinfo does. I'm gonna see that genocide post like five times at least on my dash, and I'm probably going to see it at least once from someone who has at least liked this post (if not reblogged it as well). But if you can. If you have the energy and the time. Try to put a little info out there. It might help someone.

That's all. Be good. Be skeptical.

[animehouse-moe]

GUND-ARM: A Ray Of Hope

So, definitely a lot going on with the episode, but I've got to start off with the little promotional video they did for the new company. Incredibly cute and actually impressive how well they animated it. The tine of green around Aerial from the green screen. The slight desync between Aerial and Suletta. The off-key singing, the background noise from animals. There's a lot of effort put into making the quality of the video seem low, which is pretty impressive in a way.

A quick interlude before the meat of the episode however, featuring Suletta and her mother. I do feel really bad for Suletta, because she just wants to feel safe and loved, rather than discerning the truth from her mother's words.

But unfortunately Prospera and Suletta are on different wavelengths, as is evident in Prospera's comment about people attacking Gundams.

There really is something that feels sinister to Prospera's words. She's taking Suletta's passion and desire for love from her mother and twisting it to the benefit of her plot, which is hard to experience when viewers get to see it as that rather than how Suletta is processing it.

As a side note I feel like that's something they've done really well. Typically it can be hard to understand things from the perspective of a character when you see them as something else entirely, but I feel like GWitch has done a really solid job with that, though I can't quite put my finger on why.

Anyways, the real content of the episode starts as Shaddiq begins his attempt to schmooze the girls to get in on GUND-ARM, and overall I think it's a compelling piece to the story that works. Sure, it's already happened twice in different capacities, but Miorine is Delling's daughter, and Suletta has the best and potentially only "accepted" Gundam currently. It's a gold mine that everyone wants a piece of.

What I find interesting though is he's the first with agency out of all the contenders. He goes against his adoptive father's ideals and provides a fresh angle in the contention of Gundams in this world.

And I mean, it both fits his character and works. He's been passive the entire time we've known him as character, letting everyone else do the heavy lifting. And at the same time, trying to seize Aeriel through direct means has proven to fail countless times, so Shaddiq is certainly finding himself on the right track.

I do enjoy this final scene with Shaddiq though, as once more he allows others to do the work for him. He has an interesting emotion lingering on his face though. It's a bit hard to put into words, but to me it feels almost like rumination. He's definitely deep in thought because he doesn't move the cup anywhere, and casting his eyes downward make it feel like a more negative thought process. He talked about a prior business affair with Miorine when they were younger, so it could be that he's lamenting over what could have been since she denied his involvement. Regardless, it's a nice touch, and presents an interesting tidbit, all the girls have strongly isolated personalities. The smug "you get what you deserve", the empathetic "I feel bad for her", the enthuastic "don't worry we'll cheer her up!", and the cold and calculated business personality.

The other bit from this episode was the politics of the Earth house. I really, really enjoy the different perspectives and worldviews that this small little group possess. They've all been exposed to varying influences and challenges, so they all come out with different opinions and ideas. Yeah, they definitely have overlap, but at the same time, an Earthian that doesn't want to stand out and is somewhat placative to Spacians is in direct opposition to another Earthian on the same issue. It's not a black and white image made by these characters, nor is it really even that gray. There's lots of approaches and understandings that sell the politics and ideals of the world incredibly well. Given how some series handle the concepts of racism/xenophobia/etc, The Witch From Mercury really is proving to provide a great measuring stick for other storytellers.

I just really love it as an emotional piece to the story. It shows how prejudice and war has fractured communities and peoples, without getting into traumatizing or terrible actions to prove it. It's a rare case of words speaking just as loud as actions, and I think it works great for kids that are trying to lead a normal life at school. They're not trying to delve deep into painful memories, but rather make the most of the present and provide change.

All that said, I'm really curious to see where this next episode takes us. There's potential for Prospera and Bel to play more active roles since they're under Suletta and Miorine now, but that all depends on the outcome from the changes Shaddiq made now.

[illarian-rambling]

Sending hugs always!

Fire: share a snippet with some dialogue you’d like to show off.

Ice: share a snippet where a character is taking a risk.

Poison: share a snippet that’s all about relationships (good or bad).

Breath: share a snippet that makes you laugh.

Storm: share a snippet where a character is angry.

Please and thank you!

Thanks for the ask <3

Oh lordy, here we go! This turned out to be a lot, so keep reading for Izjik arguing with a timeless being on how blinking works, Astra joining a terrorist organization, Djek’s absolutely fucked vibes with his former mentor, Elsind and Avymere having an average interaction, and the walking ass worm that is Ivander’s father ;)

Fire:

Why didn’t I know about this before? the woman asked openly. If there’s an End cult, why couldn’t they have busted me out of religious jail? Hell, why didn’t they bust me out of the Trench in the first place and use me to spread the good word of misery and silence and crying orphans?

“Like we said, they are a small group and none of them have a connection to us as you do. And what makes you think we did not want you taken by the Chosen?”

Izjik gave a mental sigh, though it didn’t have the same satisfaction as it did when she could feel her lungs. I guess that’s cunning or whatever. But then what the hell are these people good for anyways?

“Numbers. Within our empire, we are many and the many can do much. Here on this stolen planet, though, we expeditionary few are forced to share one skin. The Heralds provide more skin. Skin we will need in the days to come.”

Will you please stop saying skin…

“It is the truth.”

Izjik could hear splashing as End waded through a shallow spring, though she couldn’t feel the water on her feet. Probably for the best, given the presumably chilly weather. At the sound of water, the woman had a thought.

End, the Heralds are just regular people, right? Not, like, mini-End-Made-Flesh?

The fiend cocked her head quick enough to cause her neck to pop. “Yes, they are but mortals. We require nothing more than that from them.”

Well, then…. Spirits, you’ve never been around mortals before, have you?

“We have been around you,” End protested. “Previous to your ascension, you were mortal.”

Izjik ignored that last bit and soldiered on. Well, mortals have these things called standards. They expect you to be presentable or else they’ll lose respect for you, maybe even scoot out on you if they’re disgusted enough. But you’ve never been mortal before, so how would you know?

“Find your point, oh flesh of mine,” End snapped.

You are fucking filthy. Though the fiend did not stop, its stride did slow just a bit. Izjik had its interest—she just had to keep it. You’re wearing pajamas, you haven’t eaten for nearly a day—hell, I’m not sure if you’ve blinked in all that time! Tell me, End, do you feel a pain in your gut? You feel lightheaded at all?

“What is pain?”

Izjik sighed at the genuine confusion in the question. It only made sense that End couldn’t feel pain. Or, more likely, its weird, demon brain just didn’t know enough to understand that pain was bad.

A squirmy feeling in your gut. One that wasn’t there before.

“Ah, that. We know of what you speak. What of it?”

You’ve got about three days until that feeling kills the both of us.

Now, End stopped. Through her stolen eyes, Izjik could see that they’d made it most of the way up the bluff. Surrounding her like an ocean of green and gold were unbroken miles of trees. They tossed like waves in the hissing wind, threatening to sweep over her little island of high stone.

“This… this pain—it can kill us?”

Pain can kill us, walking through streams without shoes can kill us. Not blinking might not kill us, but it can’t be healthy, that’s for damn sure.

End was silent for a while. Izjik tried to take in the view as it pondered her words, but she was too jittery to appreciate much of anything. Fucking hell, was she really briefing a timeless being on the fact that if it didn’t eat, it’d die?

“How do we remove this pain?” it finally said. “The starmind said we would be invulnerable to all wounds but those made with divine power. It said nothing of pain.”

Well, you’re going to have to drink water and eat food. Probably these Heralds’ll have some, but you should let me run things for that, because, believe it or not, if you mess that up, you’ll die as well. You’re still working on blinking and breathing, so I’m not sure if I trust you with chewing and swallowing.

“You wish for control.”

Izjik winced at End’s statement. The halawemavar had never been the subtle sort. Even if she had been, there was a decent chance End could hear all of her thoughts anyways. It was a flimsy play she was making. However, she gained an important advantage by making it. None of what Izjik said was a lie. And if she didn’t have to lie, then she might just have a chance.

Yes, End, I wish for control. You’ve never spoken to mortals except for those under your direct power. I obviously have. Let me get us cleaned up, let me speak to these Heralds as another mortal would, and let me get us some food for fuck’s sake! Again, I would like to remind you of the fact that, if you screw up eating, we die.

End made a strange sound, like something between a hawk’s keen and a choking dog. It took Izjik a second to realize that it was trying to laugh.

“You know this venture is foolish, yes? It will take us barely a scruple of power to overcome your will, avatar of ours. The moment you try to run, you will be our flesh once more.”

I know, Izjik said. I won’t run. I just want to feel something again. I want to feel the breath in my lungs and water over my skin. And I want to, you know, not die! We can agree on that, right? Neither of us wants to die?

“Neither of us wants to die, that is correct.”

Then are we cool?

Ice:

Astra’s mind ticked through the possibilities. Damn if these people weren’t swaying her. It was a decent plan, with more motive than anyone deserved. The serfs up here were a sort of sister people to the debtors of the Republic. If such a drastic example was set, once word reached the south, who knew what could happen?

And if the Archduke died, she would have free reign in his library. No more sneaking around for scraps in the night. She could spread the knowledge hoarded there to everyone—she might be the only one outside the noble book mages who properly could. The witch remembered those heating runes inscribed on the inner city fountains, then she imagined one in every outer city hovel. She imagined gravitation runes in the fields of Nakaow to relieve the heaviest of burdens and contracts renegotiated by fearful lords looking to their deposed peers to the north.

Aw hell, I’m about to make a stupid decision, aren’t I? Somehow, those always end up bein’ the best ones.

Only one question remained; was it right to kill a man for being a poor leader? It didn’t take Astra long to find an answer. She recalled the frozen bodies she’d seen on the side of the outer city roads, recalled the children reduced to hunting rats for survival. Once a person stripped the dignity from another, they lost all right to that dignity themselves. Those deaths were on the Archduke’s hands—and this wouldn’t be the first time Astra had supported the murder of a person who’d killed many others, even if they’d never met.

“I’m in.” Astra gave each of the leaders a dutiful nod, though she kept her grip on Loic, who’d been doing his best to be invisible for this entire conversation.

“You’re what?” Indre squawked.

“I wanna help y’all,” the witch said. “I was raised a debtors’ daughter down in the south and if some folks like you had been there, I’da joined ya in a heartbeat. However, I do have some demands. My help ain’t for free, after all.”

Poison:

Squinting, Djek could just make out the hazy form of a small child. He wasn’t any good with kids’ ages, but this one was on the young side. Her cotton nightgown stood out fiercely against her coppery skin. In the dark, it was hard to make out the details, but Djek didn’t need good vision to tell the girl’s cheeks were wet with tears.

Shit!

Djek glanced back into the bedroom. The floor was a smear of red. Like a splattered fruit, petals of gore spread from the shuddering body of the debtor. In one corner, Eztli Izel sobbed, one hand covering her face while the other reached for her love.

Between them stood Tyche. His friend was focused on methodically wiping clean her brass knuckles. Swiftly, Djek shifted his focus back towards the child.

He almost screamed when he noticed how close the girl had crept. Why the fuck are kids so damn creepy! Do I kill her—

No! The thought, then the brutal realization that he’d had it, hit Djek like a knife to the gut. No, no, no, no!

Glancing side to side, Djek shuffled closer to the girl. This close, her face resolved itself into one of soft features and a cleft lip. Her mouth quivered, eyes locked on Djek’s. She seemed to be almost about to ask him something.

In a panic, Djek summoned his shadows. Immediately, the girl’s face shifted from mute shock to fight-or-flight terror. She ran. Who wouldn’t after such a display? Djek gave a prayer of thanks for the home’s sumptuous carpet. Her escape was all but silent.

A hand clapped over his shoulder. This time, Djek screamed for all he was worth.

“Hey, cool it!” Tyche spat. “We’re done here.”

“Sorry! Sorry. I— I guess I’m just a little jumpy.” Djek’s heart pounded so loud he could barely hear his own excuses.

Tyche sighed. “You done good out here. Now let’s get the fuck out. I need a good bar crawl.”

“Isn’t the retrieval early tomorrow?”

“Sure is,” Tyche shrugged. “But… Well, we have to take the fun times when we can. Who knows what tomorrow holds?”

Djek gave a weak smile, but a sincere one. “You know me, always up for a good bar crawl.”

Tyche smiled back. Something glistened in her eyes, though after a moment Djek realized it was just moonlight. Roughly, the woman put a hand on his shoulder.

“Come on, time to go.”

Behind them, a guttural wheeze echoed through the room. A whimper followed on its heels, a pathetic whine of pain and betrayal.

“Please, Gabi,” Eztli wheezed. A ragged sob was the woman’s answer.

And this is why you shouldn’t borrow what you can’t repay.

Gods, I’m a fucking hypocrite.

Djek squared his shoulders and tore his focus away from the bedroom-turned-abattoir, following in the wake of Tyche’s path. The night was warm. He was getting drinks with his best friend. He’d managed to not fuck up a job for once! The present was bright and new and shiny as could be. So why did the debtor’s screams keep echoing through his mind?

Breath:

"You said you needed paper?” Elsind asked, hoping to change the subject.

The Duchon nodded. “We have chalk for the message slate I can write with, but I need paper specifically. Or leather or anything else one can write on. I just have no idea where we’d get that in this blasted desert.”

Paper…. A ripple went through Elsind’s body as they recalled an unwise decision they’d made while purchasing supplies. Well, not unwise. But definitely not practical. And they’d used group money to buy it.

Cringing, Elsind drew a slim paperback from their supply satchel. Immediately, Avymere’s eyes went wide.

“Is that a book?” the elf exclaimed.

Elsind nodded, blushing profusely. “I, uh, when we split up to buy supplies, there was this stand selling them, and I— I thought riding with the caravan was going to be really boring, so… so…. Yeah. I’m really sorry. It didn’t cost that much, I swear! Only three tuec. I just… just wanted something to distract myself from all”—They gestured sheepishly at the desert expanse—“this.”

Avymere squinted as they read the title. “...The Leviathan’s Bride: A Monsterous Romance?”

“You don’t need to worry about that!” Elsind squeaked. “There are some blank pages at the back, we can use those.”

They held the book to their chest; partly because they didn’t want sand to get into the pages and partly because they didn’t want to give Avymere’s myopic eyes time to focus on the rather bawdy cover art. A person had to have their guilty pleasures, sure, but that didn’t mean everyone had to know about them.

The Duchon shook their head in mild shock. “That’ll work. And… and don’t feel bad spending a little group money.”

From their own pack, the elf pulled out a small wooden box and opened it to reveal a half-burnt stick of incense.

“What’s that for?” Elsind asked thoughtlessly. Two seconds later, their brain caught up and connected the dots. Immediately, their headfins flushed purple. “N-never mind, actually! I’m sorry.”

Avymere continued, not seeming to mind their witless remark, though Elsind did notice a slight tremor to the Duchon’s hands as they held the incense. “We can use the ash from this; it’ll be more convincing. Now, if you could lend me that book, I shall begin.”

(For context with the incense, that'd be like if Avymere had pulled out a funeral urn and Elsind had gone "What's that?")

Storm:

Antonin gestured out to the flooded expanse of the basement. Really, it was more of a massive crypt, if Astra was being honest. A crypt with no bodies. Or so she hoped.

“In the undercroft, there lurks a beast. It has been here for years and knows the territory well. Kill it, bring me proof, and your first job is done,” Antonin said.

Astra couldn’t help herself. “A fuckin’ what? A beast? Who keeps a godsdamned beast under their house? That can’t be up to code.”

“You are here to do what I tell you, not to ask questions.” Antonin tapped his cane on the floor, then nodded towards the dark, waterlogged halls. “If you do not return in two days, I will assume you have failed. Don’t fret though—I’ll send someone to retrieve your bodies should that come to pass.” His eyes latched onto Mashal’s chest, where the man’s heart rune resided. “I know some people who’d pay handsomely for such a unique dissection subject.”

Instinctively, Astra reached for one of her fire patches, while Mashal took a step back, clearly startled. Gods a’mighty, this was why she hated bastards in suits. They always felt entitled to anything they could buy, but never realized that some things weren’t for sale.

“We’ve already got a deal, so I don’t gotta play polite ’round you no more.” Astra stormed up to the Montane patriarch and jabbed a finger into his chest, not caring that she only just came up to the man’s chin. “If you ever say some creepy as shit like that again, I’m gonna set your desk on fire. I can’t get outta this contract and neither can you, but that doesn’t mean I can’t make your life real fuckin’ difficult. Don’t ever talk to Mashal or me like that again unless you’re ready to piss on your favorite important papers when they go up in flames, ya feel me? We are your business partners. Treat us like it.”

Antonin looked down at Astra, his lip curled ever so slightly in an expression that conveyed it was beneath him to even feel disgust towards her. Distantly, something more than mortal seemed to shift within his amber eyes. It peered out at the little animal yapping at its vessel. It did not hide its disgust in the slightest.

“You seem to have an over-inflated opinion on how I treat my business partners,” Antonin replied curtly. “Go into the undercroft. Hunt the beast. Return with proof.”

“Smarmy shitsmear…,” Astra muttered. However, she stepped back. The sooner she got this over with, the sooner they could get on with stopping Vermir.