#She was a formative experience for many Canadians

[howlingday]

Taiyang: So you want to be a Harem Protag, huh?

Jaune, confused: No, not really?

Taiyang: Too bad, The Fandom is making you one.

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RWBY Harem Protag

Supplemental Form

So, you've finally got the nerve to ask that cool drink of water you've been sweet on and she finally talked back? Your childhood friend, whom you haven't seen in ten years (according to the fics), has just come back into town and you're already getting along like you never separated. And your big sister has taken to cooking you some wholesome American Canadian lunchboxes full of jelly donuts, hash browns, and mashed potatoes croissants, maple syrup, and poutine. You're probably feeling pretty good about yourself, huh?

NOW STOP.

Because you've found yourself in a dangerous situation that has spelled disaster for many young men like yourself across this great kingdom of ours. You are now the protagonist of a HAREM ANIME, and if you don't act quickly, it could destroy your entire life.

Now, I know what you're thinking. "How could this possibly be a bad thing? Girls chasing after me left and right? Who could be unhappy about that?" You could, son, because your life is now in a state of karmic imbalance.

For every bit of fortune you experience with the opposite sex, there will be equal misfortune in everything else. You must prepare yourself for a string of disasters that could ruin your life and enough accidental sexual misconduct to start your own hashtag.

By the way, you better be taking notes on this because odds are that you're fucking dense as fuck, and probably the worst fucking character ever written.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

DO NOT PANIC.

This is especially important for you because if you do panic, you're gonna end up stripping or groping someone. The laws of the universe itself are now conspiring to have as many female friends of yours to end up naked in front of you as humanly possible.

It's like Murphy's Law; what can go wrong will go wrong, and anything that can go wild will go wild.

Practice your balance and maintain awareness of your surroundings, especially behind you. If not, someone will bump into you and then your hand ends up down her skirt and your face goes into her tits and then there will be a second girl behind you for you to bump your face into her ass. You might think you can avoid this by never going outside, but if you do, all of your female friends will converge on your location to make sure you're okay.

One will arrive first and the second will arrive just in time to find you both in a compromising and erotic position after you stumble into the first girl while trying to be a good host and getting her some donuts and Canadian beer. This happens every time, without fail.

Don't bother asking your parents for help. They've already fucked off to another kingdom and threw away their scrolls.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

REMEMBER YOUR ABCs.

AWARENESS. BALANCE. CLENCHED FISTS.

You can't strip or grope someone if your hand isn't open. However, this will result in you punching a lot of tits.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

IDENTIFY YOUR HAREM.

Utilizing the prior form, you can identify your harem members by the "Tropes" they exhibit. These tropes will determine their entire personalities. These tropes will graviate to the most boring fucking character in the series, that's you by the way, and will be drawn to your complete lack of character or personality like magnets to a pole.

The first trope to identify is the "Tsundere," who will appear as a cold front that gets warmer over time. This shifting in personality will be the one responsible for the most change in your harem. There is always, at minimum, on tsundere present, though scientists are still unsure as to why. You can easily identify the tsundere by her iconic catchphrase, "It's not because I like you, b-baka." You can also identify her by her being a massive fucking bitch to you, like, all the fucking time. In fact, don't forget to guard your head as most harem protagonists receive some form of massive head trauma as a result of a tsundere retaliation, which results in failure to read social cues or MAKING UP THEIR FUCKING MINDS FOR THE LOVE OF REMNANT JESUS!

However, this danger pales in comparison to the second trope to be aware of, the "Yandere". You can compare the yandere to a tornado, as she will absolutely fuck shit up around her in her attempt to keep you at the center of her world. You can identify her by her too sweet smile or by calling you a pet name like "darling" even though she knows your real name. If you find yourself in this scenario, you only have one option: RUN! AND RUN FAST! You will need to fake your death, move to another kingdom (preferably on a different continent), and assume a new identity there. If you require help, please do not hesitate to view the prior film in this series, "SO YOU THINK YOU'RE A NIKOS?"

Encounters with yandere girls are rare, but once again, because you are the absolute fucking worst person to have ever been brought into this world, the yandere will naturally gravitate to you by shifting from one of the other tropes in your harem because you decided to do something fucking stupid and childish like you always fucking do, you fucking stupid child.

There are other tropes that may enter your harem, ranked in order of the danger they pose to your life.

The "Sadodere" named so for their sadistic tendencies, are the most likely to harm you to derive pleasure for themselves. This can be good fun between consenting adults in a controlled environment with a safe word, but in your day-to-day life it will only cause problems for you. On her own, the sadodere is an annoyance, but her tendency to lie and manipulate others around her can amplify the dangers that may occur in a harem system. Fortunately, the sadodere is easy to identify the instant she stops acting nice, so keep your distance once this happens (unless you're into that), and if any other girls are mad at you, ask the sadodere if she was involved in one way or another, then ask her to clear things up once she fesses up that she did.

(Note: Image of Gillian Asturias not found. Backup himedere image posted in her place.)

The "Himedere", also known as "oujo" or "princess" is almost as arrogant and demanding as the sadodere with the exception that she's not likely to cover her facade with sweetness. You can spot a himedere from a mile way by her haughty demeanor, but if you're unsure, which let's be real you are, you can also identify them by their signature vocal call.

OOOOOOHOHOHOHO~!

In the early development stages of a harem, the himedere stubbornness may prove troublesome. However, she is unlikely to be prone to violence like the tsundere, so your only concern is any servants she may have under her employ, all of whom are likely retired assassins in some branch or another. You'd honestly be surprised by how many hitmen make the jump to domestic servitude.

Next, we have the "genki girl," also known as the Deredere. Warm and sunny, but still quite chaotic. You can identify her by her interests in things like "sportsball" or her cheery, comforting smile. She is the least dangerous of the tropes EXCEPT in the vicinity of the tsundere in which her oblivious, good-natured affection will likely get you punched. REPEATEDLY. There is a possibility the deredere is secretly a yandere, so watch out for tell-tale signs such as use of the word "brave and fearless leader" and frequent disappearances of cats and other small animals when she is near.

Finally, the "Kuudere", literally translating to "cool dere", and "Dandere" are quiet and mostly stick to themselves, one from detachment and lack of emotion with the other out of shyness. Both can be identified by their general lack of speech. When approached, a kuudere will respond cynically and pragmatically, while a dandere will respond by blushing and stammering. Neither pose a substantial threat, though it is advised you check on the kuudere once per day just to make sure she's not dead.

There are further variations of these tropes you may encounter, including the drunken older harlot "Yottadere" and the "Kanedere" who want your money. However, it is highly unlikely that your harem will include either of these two, and if it does, they won't really matter.

By and large, 99% of harems include the girls listed prior on this list, all with just slightly different hair colors and styles.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It should be noted that your sister, either younger or older, may be involved in the goings-on of your harem, even showing signs that match one of these tropes. She may appear as the deredere, kuudere, or the tsundere. This used to be a rare occurrence, but in the recent decades, it has become much more common. Modern scientists are blaming global climate, but regardless of the cause, if this happens to you, you only need to follow one simple rule, one key thing above all else...

(Flip to side B)

[eternal-echoes]

“Most people have never heard of the hijra, sādhin, or fa'afafine. As a result, when such names are used in gender theory classes to promote the idea of a "third gender," most students have no option but to listen and "learn." A closer examination of these titles reveals that they don't fit neatly into the Western concept of gender. One reason for this, according to Towle and Morgan, is that "The third gender' concept lumps all nonnormative gender variations into one category, limiting our understandings of the range and diversity of gender ideologies and practices."(6)

Perhaps the most glaring example of this is the fact that segregating sexuality from gender is a distinctively Western concept. This can be seen in popular catchphrases such as, "Sexuality is who you go to bed with, but gender is who you go to bed as." In many cultures, the two are intertwined: Your masculinity or femininity are revealed by how you express your sexuality.

Take, for example, the hijras (also known as kinner). Within parts of Indian culture, these are sexually impotent males who have their genitals removed in a ritual, while facing an image of a goddess, to achieve ritual powers. They often wear women's clothing, assume their mannerisms, take on feminine names, have male sexual partners, and are often used as prostitutes. However, according to anthropologist Adnan Hossain's research of hijras in Bangladesh, their identity is rooted more in their sexuality than in their religious roles.(7) They are not understood to be women. Rather, they are castrated males considered within Hinduism to have received a calling from their goddess. If they refuse to assume this role, their punishment is that they will be reborn impotent seven times.(8)

Another gender variant within Indian culture is the sādhin. These are young women who refuse to marry and sometimes take on certain traditionally male roles. Within traditional Hindu culture, the only accepted roles for a female are those of wife and mother. Since the sādhin do not embrace these roles, they form their own social niche. However, they are not considered to have changed their sexuality.

Rather than labeling such a person a "third gender," a more accurate understanding could be gained by understanding the social pressures that might influence a young Hindu woman to choose celibacy. The Hindu moral legal text Manu Smriti-which has been quoted in supreme court judgments in India-contains regulations regarding a woman's role within marriage.(9) It states, "Though destitute of virtue, or seeking pleasure (elsewhere), or devoid of good qualities, (yet) a husband must be constantly worshipped as a god by a faithful wife."(10) If a woman opts out of marriage because she finds this lifelong misogynistic arrangement to be less than ideal, she does not cease to be a woman. To use her experience to prove gender theory is reductive and unconvincing.

Samoan culture provides another example where a foreign concept of gender doesn't fit the into Western framework. The word fa’afafine means "like a woman" or "in the manner of a woman. These are effeminate males who often take on the social roles of women and dress accordingly. However, they don't typically experience distress over their bodies or seek surgical changes. Paul Vasey, a Canadian psychology professor, explains:

If a fa’afafine went to New Zealand or Australia and had a sex-change operation and returned to Samoa, no one in Samoa would say that individual is now a woman... But traditional, non-Western frameworks for understanding masculine women or feminine men as "third genders" are often warped when viewed through a Western lens, which reinterprets them as transwomen or transmen. It's a type of colonialism.(11)

-Jason Evert, Male, Female, or Other: A Catholic Guide to Understanding Gender

—

Work cited:

6) Towle and Morgan, "Romancing the Transgender Native," 672.

7) Cf. Adnan Hossain, "Beyond Emasculation: Pleasure, Power, and Masculinity in the Making of Hijrahood in Bangladesh" (doctoral dissertation, University of Hull, UK).

8) Cf. Serena Nanda, Gender Diversity (Long Grove, IL: Waveland Press: 2014), 31.

9) Cf. Atindriyo Chakraborty, "Manusmriti and the Judiciary-A Dangerous Game," Counter Currents.Org, July 27, 2000.

10) Cf. Manu Smriti in Sanskrit with an English translation at https://www.indiadivine.org/content/files/file/644-manu-smriti-in-sanskrit-with-english-translations-pdf/.

11) As quoted in Joyce, Trans, 36.

—

For more recommended resources on gender dysphoria, click here.

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

Can I ask how you got your tickets for Lyon? I’m thinking next time Taylor goes on tour I will have to try for somewhere in Europe! It’s just too expensive in North America and resell prices are a joke!

Same as everyone else, luck of the draw with Ticketmaster! I registered for the presale for nearly every city I felt I could feasibly travel to and hoped for the best. I must have signed up for at least a dozen cities in Europe and could even have been more.

I got selected for a code for Lyon and got put on the waitlist for London and Edinburgh. I got off the waitlist for Edinburgh after the sale started, but by that point the only thing left were like single ticket VIPs which were more than I wanted to spend and also I wanted to travel with friends. I did end up getting off the waitlist for London part 2 about five days before the shows, which was SO lucky because I was already going to be there, so my friend and I ended up getting to see the show again in the obstructed/nosebleed seats.

My suggestion would be to sign up for everything you feel like you would be willing to travel for. Being flexible is key: signing up for just the cities near you is a crapshoot. Case in point: as a Canadian, I also signed up for Toronto and Vancouver thinking that if I got in I'd sell my Lyon tickets, and never even made it to the waitlist, let alone get a code. If I had waited for the Canadian dates to be announced, or sold my Lyon tickets to hedge my bets on Toronto, I would have been screwed. Of several dozen friends and family who signed up for Toronto and Vancouver, I only know three who got tickets, and one of them ended up selling hers because the cost of hotels and airfare were so exorbitant her weekend trip with her girls was going to end up costing $10k.

I ended up going to four shows total (one in Lyon and three in London) and I am certain the four of them cost less than what I would have likely paid for a lower bowl ticket in Toronto for one show. Again, part of it was flexibility (obstructed view seats were relatively cheap in London and turns out you get an awesome experience anyway; my floor GA in Lyon cost less than what upper bowl/nosebleeds were going for for Olivia Rodrigo and not much more than what I paid for Noah Kahan tickets near me; basically, I wasn't too picking about my seats or dates), part of it is tickets seemed way cheaper in Europe than they did in North America, even with the exchange rate.

And also: if you're going to travel, build a trip around it if you're able to. I was lucky that I had vacation time banked so I was able to take two weeks off (and then another week later in the summer for London). I LOVE travelling and had been itching to do a big trip since before the pandemic, so this was it for me. I used the show as the anchor point, and then built the rest of my itinerary around it. One of my friends did the same thing to see Adele in Germany this summer and made a whole Euro trip out of it. It's wonderful to travel just for a concert, but as someone with perpetual wanderlust, you get SO MUCH more out of it when you can explore and take in the sights. There's something so cool about being immersed in a new or different place and just giving main character energy to your day lol. And candidly: if anything ever goes belly-up with the show (e.g. it gets cancelled), you've still got tons to do and see. Up until the minute I stepped onto the tube to Wembley Stadium I was still worried the show would get cancelled (after Vienna), but it wouldn't have mattered because I had the absolute best trip ever that formed so many core memories.

ALSO: if you plan on going with friends, have everyone in the group sign up for the presales as well to maximize the chance of at least one of you getting a code. Also plan accordingly because this time you were allowed a max of four tickets per code. So for Lyon, I went to one show with three friends. For London, I went to two shows with one friend. (She had gotten tickets for another show.)

Sadly the last bit is also: money. I'm not rich by any means, but I had a healthy savings fund that I'd been contributing to since before Covid and my big ticket item was travel. It's an absolute privilege that I don't take for granted. I am fully aware that many can't afford to travel for a show. (I used to be in that same boat until the last few years.) I couldn't travel like this every summer, but every few years is hopefully in the cards.

TL;DR: be flexible, get what you get and don't get upset re: destination (i.e. if you get a code for a city you otherwise wouldn't think of travelling to), team up with your travel buddies if applicable, plan your trip around your concert date and not the other way around.

[handeaux]

Dorelle Heisel Plumbed Brain Mysteries And Psychedelicized Cincinnati’s Social Circles

Dorelle Markley Heisel called Cincinnati her home for several decades, but her mind was in another dimension. She was known as “Cincinnati’s Brain Lady” and held college faculty positions in literature, psychology and fine art. She pioneered biofeedback techniques to control mental and bodily functions while introducing Cincinnati’s strait-laced society to the psychedelic subculture of the Sixties.

Virginia Dorelle Markley was born in 1917 in Danville, Illinois but spent her childhood shuttling between her father’s Palm Beach restaurant and her mother’s St. Louis hotel. At DePauw University in Greencastle, Indiana, she was student royalty – literally – voted May Queen in her senior year.

It was at DePauw that she met and became engaged to W. Donald Heisel, a Cincinnati native and Western Hills High School alumnus. At the time of his 1940 marriage to Dorelle, Heisel was assistant secretary to Cincinnati’s Civil Service Commission and was, according to the Cincinnati Enquirer [21 May 1940] “one of the city’s youngest executives.” The Heisels built a new house on a quiet cul de sac in Westwood, where they raised two daughters.

Don Heisel earned a reputation as the “godfather of public administration in the Tristate” [Cincinnati Enquirer 6 March 1988] because of the many governmental officials he mentored at the University of Cincinnati and at Xavier University. Dorelle, who had earned a degree in English from DePauw, added a bachelor’s (1952) and master’s (1965) in education from UC while also taking classes at the Cincinnati Art Academy.

Dorelle taught English for several years in Cincinnati high schools and at the Ohio Mechanics Institute. During the summers she was a fixture at Pogue’s Department Store. Hundreds of Queen City baby boomers likely display pastel portraits of themselves, sketched by Dorelle at her stand in the Pogue’s children’s department. She hated the drab institutional brown walls in her husband’s office, so one day she hauled her pastels over to City Hall and executed a large mural of the Cincinnati skyline, drawn from memory.

UC’s University College recruited Dorelle in the mid-1960s and she flourished there, teaching literature, art appreciation and psychology. With assistance from the Procter & Gamble company, she brought innovative technology into her classrooms with a push-button feedback device that allowed students to register immediate opinions regarding class content. She told the Cincinnati Post [14 March 1968]:

“When students become frustrated with a lecture or feel lost or just plain bored, they can indicate their anxiety by signaling me on the monitor.”

Dorelle’s interest in media and their effects on human communication led her to Canadian theorist Marshall McLuhan, known for his books “Understanding Media” and “The Medium Is The Massage.” Among the earliest mentions of McLuhan in Cincinnati newspapers is a reference to a 1966 Evening College class taught by Dorelle to introduce the Canadian theorist’s ideas to Cincinnati.

Simultaneously with her investigations of media and biofeedback, Dorelle dove into what was then known as the human potential movement. She presided over a multi-week UC Evening College class titled “Actualizing Your Potential: A Group Happening.” Enquirer reporter Jo Thomas sat in on the course and reported [21 August 1969] a most unusual classroom experience.

“I will not lecture,” Heisel said. “You will live out experiences, and I will ask you questions. Answer them in your head without verbalizing them. Writing is so slow and the mind works at such speed.”

Dorelle invited the students to form themselves into trains of about nine “cars,” kindergarten-style and take turns being the “engine” or the “caboose.”

“Elderly women hung on to 20-year-olds. Bald men chugged in front of bearded men. Around and around the room the trains went, gathering momentum and enthusiasm. One train burst out of the classroom door into the bright hall, chugging with gusto.”

The explosion of new ideas generated by the psychedelic Sixties energized Dorelle and she launched a series of public lectures to share her excitement. One wonders how her Cincinnati audiences, among such mainline organizations such as the Federation of Jewish Organizations and the Kiwanis Club, reacted to her exposition titled “Turn On, Tune In, Find Out!”

An early adopter of technology, Dorelle acquired a variety of devices to assist her research into altering thought patterns via biofeedback. Among these contraptions were the electromyograph and the alphaphone that made brainwaves audible or visual. She claimed that biofeedback, in addition to curing a variety of conditions from depression to migraines, transported users into a new state of being that she called the Kairos Dimension.

"The Kairos Dimension is nature taking its electronic course through you by providing strategies for amplifying your sensory range,” she announced in her 1974 book, “The Kairos Dimension.”

The titles of Dorelle’s non-credit classes and community lectures indicate the paths her biofeedback research led her down: “Brainfun: Steering Minds In New Directions,” “The Holographic Mind,” “How Biofeedback Opens Social Spaces,” and “How Biofeedback Supports Excitement And Growth.” Here is the course catalog description for one of these classes:

“Feelings of stress, tension and pressure take place only in muscles, never in the chemical-electrical brain that sends out orders. New research gives us a more accurate model of how we guide and control our range of ‘body sculptures.’ Small group exploration of the latest technologies.”

As the Human Potential movement evolved into various New Age philosophies, Dorelle’s biofeedback strategies caught on among that crowd. When the Montreal Star compiled a list of 50 important New Age books in 1975, Dorelle’s “Biofeedback Exercise Book” was featured along with books on transcendental meditation, herbal remedies, gestalt therapy and “The Joy of Sex.”

The nationally syndicated television show, P.M. Magazine, hosted Dorelle in November 1983 as “Cincinnati’s Brain Lady who enables you to see your brain on a television screen.” For a brief period, UC’s radio station WGUC aired a show devoted to Dorelle’s “Kairos Dimension.”

The Heisels divorced in 1977 and throughout the 1980s Dorelle’s public appearances waned. A Body/Mind/Spirit Festival at Avondale’s Unitarian Church in 1988 found her discussing biofeedback along with proponents of shamanism, tarot cards, crystals, chelation therapy and psychic powers.

Dorelle retired from UC and relocated to Plano, Texas where one of her daughters lived. In retirement, she played bridge and painted portraits. She died, aged 79, in November 1996.

[cypriathus]

Updated: December 23, 2024

My anon name is 🦅🦁 or 🦁🦅

My asks are currently off!

For those who stumble upon my account... Hello and how are ya? You can refer to me as Yume, Dreamy, Floof, JJ, Roving, Gryph or whatever nickname you wanna give me. I'm a genuinely curious individual who sometimes gets obsessed with stuff that I eventually want to get engaged with or stuff that I have no intention of trying out, but I'm very fascinated by it. I'm also just a silly, creative 18-year-old Canadian who's trying to get the most out of life.

My general pronouns are she/her, but I genuinely don't mind you referring to me as they/them and he/him.

Some of my hobbies include writing, drawing, listening to music, reading novels and manga, watching YouTube, occasionally watching movies, TV shows or anime, and baking once in a blue moon. For those wondering what kind of art I do, I've primarily been doing a lot of digital artwork as of now. However, I have been using traditional mediums (acrylic paint, markers, coloured pencils, and regular ol' pencils) for many years now. You can find most of my current artworks that I have shared on my Instagram account. Before we move on with other stuff about me, some of my interests include psychology, sociology, criminology, law, biology, outer space, mythology, folklore, legends, religion, history, internet mysteries, and lost media.

My StrawPage!

My Tumblr family!

(The userboxes above are made by @custom-userboxes! Go check her out if you haven't done so yet!)

(The userbox above is made by @the-coral-collective! Go check them out!)

I listen to a myriad of music artists including:

Muse

Set It Off

System Of A Down

Tally Hall

Citizen Soldier

Fall Out Boy

Finger Eleven

Get Scared

Avenged Sevenfold

Sick Puppies

Hoobastank

Infected Musroom and so much more

I have watched a lot of anime and there are still some I need to get around to watching eventually. Some of these anime include:

Cat Soup

Ergo Proxy

FLCL

Perfect Blue

Tokyo Godfathers

Neon Genesis Evangelion

Kaiba

Haibane Renmei

Outlaw Star

Now and Then, Here and There

Serial Experiments Lain

Summer Wars

Belle

Angel's Egg

Most Studio Ghibli movies

Cowboy Bebop

Metropolis

Steamboy

The Tatami Galaxy

Mind Game

Maquia: When the Promised Flower Blooms

Mononoke and so much more

Non-anine movies and TV shows that I remember watching:

Breaking Bad franchise

Seven

American History X

Coraline

ParaNorman

Mad God

Schindler's List

Final Space

Cliffhanger

Del Toro's Pinocchio

Tetsuo: The Iron Man

Possum

The Mask

The Wedding Singer

Labyrinth

The Dark Crystal

Lord of War

Midsommar

Hereditary

Scarface

Monty Python and the Holy Grail & Monty Python's Life of Brian

Silence of the Lambs

Popee the Performer

Mr. Stain on Junk Alley

And many more

Some manga and books that I have currently read are:

Homunculus

Chainsaw Man

AKIRA

The Girl from the Other Side: Siúil, a Rún

The Ancient Magus' Bride

Dandadan

Trigun and Trigun Maximum

Bibliomania

Heads

Goodbye, Eri

Look Back

Yogen no Nayuta

Eden: It’s An Endless World

Keyman: The Hand of Judgement

Shigahime

Rojica to Rakkasei

BLAME!

Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind

I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream

Animal Farm

The Green Mile

Salem's Lot

Lord of the Flies

The Catcher in the Rye

To Kill a Mockingbird

The Complete Tales of H. P. Lovecraft and more

Rules:

I would like to stay anonymous for the most part, so don't pry me for certain information that I don't feel comfortable sharing. I'll only share bits and pieces of my life if I feel comfortable with you.

Don't ask me for pictures of myself or I'll block you immediately!

Don't be rudely judgemental

Don't send anon hate

Don't say discriminatory and sexually disgusting things

Don't threaten me

Don't ask me for money/donations or I'll ignore you

Don't ask me to reblog something from you or I'll ignore you

Don't send me asks regarding real world crises or I'll ignore you

Don't mention pre-existing fictional characters or other forms of media through the comments, reblogs, and inbox.

Don't recommend me pieces of media I should watch and/or read because that gets under my skin really badly as I view it as a threat to my independence and freedom of choice.

If you want to provide constructive criticism, give me more than one thing to work off of because it'll give more of an opportunity to grow.

Do not interact with me if you're one of the following (I'll add more if needed):

Pedophile

Anti-LGBTQ+

Racist

Sexist/misogynistic

Ageist

Ableist

Pro-Israel

Misandrist

Islamophobic

Someone who invalidates a person's pronouns, gender, and/or identity

Someone who supports, participates, tolerates, and/or justifies any of the above.

That's most of the stuff you need to know about me as of now. Anyways, as I mentioned in the description, I plan on using this blog as a way to share various ideas in regards to my personal writing projects. I'm open to listening to your ideas, sharing new ideas, and even constructive criticism! I hope you enjoy your stay here and I can't wait to share my ideas with y'all!

I have a side blog where I roleplay, make moodboards, and post stuff that ain't related to my work: @floofgryph

I have a Metal Slug blog: @thesilliestrovingalive

I have a roleplay blog: @beautyinafruitfulworld

Writing Projects:

Masterpost for the Iron Eclipse AU (Metal Slug)

[perhapsisuppose]

you. give me your ninjago headcanons

the joy that surged through me.

i have a LOT

my faves tho are related around what they’d look like as humans

cole - definitely a big guy, super strong, would have darker skin and cool hair. i sometimes see people hc him as blasian or indian and both of those ARE SO FITTING

I fully and firmly believe cole is a metaphor for being gay

the royal blacksmiths ep in s1 is smth i have always felt was a subtle nod to the struggle of being gay and having a “double life” where he was nervous to tell his dad.

zane - either darker skin for human form or just the titanium (i think he’s a metaphor for autism 😈)

jay - white. canadian, probably. freckled everywhere, redhead bs, etc. (my adhd twin) the thinnest ninja, my guy is muscly but thin.

nya and kai - asian, tan skin, nya is definitely taller after s8 when they all start to grow up. nya’s bulky but kai is on the thinner side.

lloyd - asian, sometimes i see him portrayed as tan, and sometimes white. either work in my head. he’s not that thin, probably middle build.

—

random ones i’ve collected :

- jay’s special interest is video games, hence why they pop up as a constant interest for him throughout seasons, unlike the baking and cooking he mentions in the pilot (those were definitely his past fixations.)

- jay has a knack for inventing and tinkering - maybe it was a past fixation because it did fade as nya took the character role of “inventor”

- kai thinks cole is probably the hottest dude he’s ever seen, whether romantically or platonically is up to you, but he’s definitely had at least one fleeting homo thought

- jay and zane stim and talk over robotics and tech for hours. nya often walks in and joins, but will leave after they fall down another inevitable rabbit hole.

- lloyd dyes his hair blonde. he was born with terrifyingly bright blonde hair, but it became darker into a light brown with his rapid aging in s2. he just prefers the blonde.

- misako 100% has had some cheating-ass romantic interaction with wu while garm was out of the picture.

- harumi doesn’t love lloyd. she loves the idea of him. all she wanted was to be protected, and here’s the easy-to-manipulate, powerful, and cute green ninja - her easiest way to feel in control, whether subconscious or not at first.

- while arguing about nya with kai, jay has definitely pulled something like “what, you want me to marry you instead, asshole??” “you can say you’re jealous.”

- cole and jay have a closer bond than many.

- during the early seasons when cole was “interested” in nya, i hc that as him either experimenting or caring for her and confusing it for romantic love.

- nya struggles to say ‘i love you’ directly to jay due to the intense vulnerability it fills her with. she shows it in many other ways, and regrets not saying it sooner before seabound

- jay is insecure about this. ^

- that one archer ghost from s5 who wanted ronan’s soul bc of some deal he made was DEFINITELY into him. or vice versa.

- pythor and scales are 100% a divorced couple. how would that work lore-wise? it wouldn’t. they just are.

- chen is into the most fucking kinky shit you could ever fathom. he was alone on that island for a long, long time.

and is insane.

—

IF I THINK OF MORE OR IVE FORGOTTEN SOME, ILL TELL U!!!!

YIPPEEEE

[maaarine]

The Myth of Normal: Trauma, Illness and Healing in a Toxic Culture (Gabor Maté, 2022)

“She gives a fascinating example of the asymmetrical apportioning of chores between men and women:

“We have long known that women (in particular women under fifty-five) have worse outcomes than men following heart surgery.

But it wasn’t until a Canadian study came out in 2016 that researchers were able to isolate women’s care burden as one of the factors behind this discrepancy, noticing that women who have bypass surgery tend to go right back into their caregiving roles, while men were more likely to have someone to look after them.”

Our society reinforces men’s sense of being entitled to women’s care in a way that almost escapes being put into words.

I refer here to the automatic mothering women provide their male partners, the emotional sustenance that forms the invisible mortar of many heterosexual relationships: a very conventional dynamic that speaks to how tenacious gendered social constructs are, how thoroughly steeped we are in them.

Some men are aware of the care they receive only in its absence and experience intense resentment when it is withdrawn; for example, when their female partner is preoccupied elsewhere, as when children are born.

Many a woman has complained to me that her spouse becomes distant and punishing when she so much as catches a cold.

As I observed in family practice, the children may lose out on maternal attention when the husband demands mothering energy from his partner.

(It goes without saying that the father’s stable attunement with his kids is also compromised when he assumes an infantile role in the partnership.)

Oftentimes the mother loses vitality or develops physical or emotional symptoms signaling her body’s rebellion against being overtaxed, imposing further strain on both her and her dependents. (…)

When I spoke with Dr. Julie Holland, she averred that the disproportionately high rate of anxiety and depression in women stems, in large part, from their absorption of male angst and their culturally directed responsibility for soothing it.

In that sense, women are ingesting the antidepressants and anxiolytics (antianxiety meds) for both sexes.”

[justforbooks]

Irish author Paul Lynch has won the 2023 Booker prize for his fifth novel Prophet Song, set in an imagined Ireland that is descending into tyranny. It was described as a “soul-shattering and true” novel that “captures the social and political anxieties of our current moment” by the judging chair, Esi Edugyan.

Canadian novelist Edugyan, who has twice been shortlisted for the Booker prize herself, said the decision to award Lynch the £50,000 prize “wasn’t unanimous” and was settled on by discussion and multiple rounds of voting that lasted “about six hours” on Saturday.

Prophet Song takes place in an alternate Dublin. Members of the newly formed secret police, established by a government turning towards totalitarianism, turn up on the doorstep of microbiologist Eilish asking for her husband, a senior official in the Teachers’ Union of Ireland. Soon, he disappears – along with hundreds of other civilians – and Eilish is left to look after their four children and her elderly father, fighting to hold the family together amid civil war.

“It is with immense pleasure that I bring the Booker home to Ireland,” said Lynch, a former film critic, upon receiving the prize. “I had a moment on holiday in Sicily many years ago where I had this flash of recognition, I knew that I needed to write, and that was the direction my life had to take. I made that decision that day to just swerve, and I swerved. And I’m bloody glad I did.”

His win comes days after violent protests broke out across central Dublin after a stabbing attack outside a primary school that left three children injured. Police said the disorder was caused by a “complete lunatic faction driven by far-right ideology”.

Asked about his reaction to the events, Lynch said that he was “astonished” and at the same time “recognised the truth that this kind of energy is always there under the surface”.

“I didn’t write this book to specifically say ‘here’s a warning’, I wrote the book to articulate the message that the things that are happening in this book are occurring timelessly throughout the ages, and maybe we need to deepen our own responses to that kind of idea,” Lynch said, later adding that he is “distinctly not a political novelist”.

Edugyan said, when asked whether recent events had influenced the judges’ decision, that “at some point in the discussions, maybe for a few minutes, this was introduced, this was discussed”. However, she said that timeliness “was not the reason that Prophet Song won the prize” – the judges simply felt it was a “truly a masterful work of fiction”.

This is the second year in a row that a novel about political conflict has won the prize. In 2022, Shehan Karunatilaka won with The Seven Moons of Maali Almeida, set during the Sri Lankan civil war.

“Lynch’s dystopian Ireland reflects the reality of war-torn countries, where refugees take to the sea to escape persecution on land,” wrote Aimée Walsh in an Observer review. “Prophet Song echoes the violence in Palestine, Ukraine and Syria, and the experience of all those who flee from war-torn countries.”

Melissa Harrison called the novel “as nightmarish a story as you’ll come across: powerful, claustrophobic and horribly real” in her Guardian review.

Lynch was born in 1977 in Limerick, grew up in County Donegal and now lives in Dublin. His other novels are Beyond the Sea, Grace, The Black Snow and Red Sky in Morning. He is the fifth Irish author to win the prize, following in the footsteps of Iris Murdoch, John Banville, Roddy Doyle and Anne Enright. The Northern Irish writer Anna Burns won in 2018.

Asked what he would spend the prize money on, Lynch said that “half of it has already gone” on his tracker mortgage.

The keynote speech at the prize ceremony in London was given by Nazanin Zaghari-Ratcliffe, who was released from prison in Tehran, Iran, last year. She discussed the ways in which books helped her when she was in solitary confinement. “When the guard opened the door and handed over the books to me, I felt liberated; I could read books, they could take me to another world, and that could transform my life,” she said.

“One day a cellmate received a book through the post; it was The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood, translated into Farsi,” she said. “Who thought a book banned in Iran could find its way to prison through the post?”

The other titles shortlisted for the prize were The Bee Sting by Paul Murray, Western Lane by Chetna Maroo, This Other Eden by Paul Harding, If I Survive You by Jonathan Escoffery and Study for Obedience by Sarah Bernstein.

Alongside Edugyan on this year’s judging panel was actor Adjoa Andoh, poet Mary Jean Chan, writer and academic James Shapiro and actor Robert Webb. At the ceremony, Andoh read an extract from the 1990 Booker prize-winning novel Possession by AS Byatt, who died earlier this month.

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

[mischievous-mayhem-is-upon-you]

Definite Triggers: US E*lection

If you fuck with Trump or if you’re a Canadian conservative leaning towards Poiliere GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM MY BLOG PERIOD.

After this I won’t post personal rants on politics but I am tired and pissed off and I’m sorry to all of my American friends, followers and mutuals. I am here for you in support.

As a Canadian who’s watched this current election unravel all day/night, this election has to be the most mind boggling thing I’ve ever witnessed.

The amount of people who threw their vote to 3rd party during THIS ELECTION??? Why? What was the fucking purpose for damning the lives around you and very well your own for ANOTHER 4 years with a man who’s unfit for office - who used white supremacy/ racism / sexism to name only a few things? A man who’s only purpose in politics is to blame immigrants, POC, Women, LGBTQ, people with disabilities and the low income / working class for the countries problems when it’s the rich and elite pulling the strings across the country to HURT YOU and privately profiting off of it??

There’s also people coming forward in a panic saying they tossed him a vote because “they thought it would be funny, and didn’t think he would win”. Fuck you, regardless if you think the elected candidates are a joke and would never win (which clearly already happened), if you’re not voting on policies for the betterment of the country and counties/cities you’re in, then don’t fucking vote because it fucking matters. There are states with less than 100 ballots of a difference between Kamala and Trump…LESS THAN 100! Your voice did matter!!

Under “normal” and I’ll say that loosely circumstances I am all for voting on your own personal values for policies on a country wide scale even if it means a vote away from the primary candidates as changes have to start somewhere if you want to see any hope of breaking free from the constant 4 year cycle of typical shit vs shittier…but this was not the fucking time. In the states she needed, those 1-2% third party votes would have changed the outcome in the states she needed to hang on.

I am livid, frustrated and tired of what feels like big project social engineering experiments happening across the country in the USA to see how gullible and malleable the people are. And this is a call for the next 4 years to make yourself HEARD, part take in your local government and help make your local community safer for you and your loved ones.

I am typically apolitical due to family stresses in my own country, but I have watched since the first presidency of Trump, my family loose themselves in to believing this man to be the true saviour of the USA, and the world. I’ve gone from a left wing family many of which who once used to be and still are gay/lesbian/bi, once had friends of many cultures and religions who once said they would vote on the protection of the minority and people who are at harm by big government no longer stand by that practice and are actively looking to vote conservative which is now forming to align with the USA’s right wing ideology. If we were in the states it would be my vote against 15 and I just don’t know how to stomach it.

And this is exactly how it will play when it comes to our elections for Prime Minister. Which is why I’m not going to back away - even if I can’t break through to my family. Showing solidarity and support for the people in my community that could suffer from a conservative flip during our election is now the only thing I’ve got left. For any Canadians who are new to voting or are struggling with their thoughts on what to do. Research policies, pay attention to unbiased news outlets, and vote on issues that matter most to you on a country wide scale.

My family is celebrating today in Canada that he won…so I am with you for anyone who is hurting and feeling lost right now. This is unacceptable and I am sorry.

[ahenvs3000w24]

03: Privilege

Privilege is a subconscious advantage. Privilege takes many forms in our modern society and is often misused against the lesser. It is the assumption of those who consider themselves to be “privileged” that the level of accessibility to resources and experiences is undifferentiated. When we consider nature interpretation, factors such as socioeconomic factors, cultural background, native language, and lack of knowledge all influence the depth at which the natural world can be related to (Beck et al., 2018). 

Peggy McIntosh’s metaphorical approach to describing privilege is an excellent foundation to this discussion (Hooykaas, 2024). She references an “invisible backpack” as the vessel that carries our assets and knowledge (Hooykaas, 2024). These assets are unearned and often do not surface to our awareness (Hooykaas, 2024). Assets such as economic status, cultural background, language, and education are examples of what the invisible backpack would be composed of (Beck et al., 2018). Each asset directly influences how we perceive, acquire, and relate to the world around us (Beck et al., 2018). 

I am a young, white, university student. I am of the middle-class and am one of two children. My “invisible backpack” has facilitated the rich relationship I have with the natural world from a young age. My economic privilege rendered incredible travel expeditions across the world and exposure to exceptional environmental programs. I attend a recognized Ontario University and am on pace to receive a bachelor’s degree. My cultural background has seamlessly led to opportunities in my professional and personal life, allocating more time for leisure. I recognize that with English as my first language, a greater number of nature interpretation programs and literature are  accessible. Considering the level of privilege I possess; privilege is defined as the accessibility to opportunity unaffected by fear and the lack of sacrifice that enable a richer quality of life.  

Economic privilege is an integral component when considering the accessibility one may have to nature. Individuals who have disposable income may indulge in travel and higher-end nature experiences (Beck et al., 2018). While it can be debated that the natural world is free to all people, the diversity of experiences is accompanied with a price. It is the responsibility of the nature interpreter to create affordable, inclusive experiences that are close to home (Beck et al., 2018). Education and immersive programs are a right, not a privilege and they must be delivered as such.

 Cultural privilege is a sensitive aspect when discussing the accessibility one may have to nature. The participation of different cultures in nature is largely dependent on social constructs and values (Beck et al., 2018). Camping in tents is an activity that wealthy white people participate in however, to urban minorities is their reality (Beck et al., 2018). To address cultural privilege, inclusivity should be the number one priority. Personal invitations to instil that all are welcome and wanted will strengthen the bond between cultures (Beck et al., 2018). 

Language privilege or proficiency is often overlooked in Canada. Canada is a country whose two national languages are English and French. Most programming, advertisements, and professionals are fluent in English and are aware of basic French (Beck et al., 2018). Courses, signage, and maps when entering a provincial park are always in English (Beck et al., 2018). Immigrant families and non-native Canadian citizens are not able to connect with the information on the natural world the same as those who are fluent in English (Beck et al., 2018). Nature interpreters must actively reduce communicative barriers and utilize multimedia approaches.  

Privilege influences how one may perceive, relate, and accept the natural world (Beck et al., 2018). It is the role of the interpreter to develop strategies and programming to address these limitations and postulate solutions to become more inclusive. I recognize the privilege I have and how said privilege has exposed me to several opportunities. I encourage my peers to work alongside me in developing a sustainable, inclusive future for nature interpreters.

References

Beck, L., Cable, T. T., & Knudson, D. M. (2018). Interpreting cultural and natural heritage: for a better world. Sagamore Venture.

Hooykaas, A. (2024). Unit 3: Risk versus reward in interpretation. University of Guelph. https://courselink.uoguelph.ca/d2l/le/content/858004/viewContent/3640017/View

[kamreadsandrecs]

Title: Rouge

Author: Mona Awad

Genre/s: horror, mystery, thriller, literary fiction

Content/Trigger Warning/s: suicide (off-page), emotional abuse, murder, death of a parent, mental illness

Summary (from the author's page): For as long as she can remember, Belle has been insidiously obsessed with her skin and skincare videos. When her estranged mother Noelle mysteriously dies, Belle finds herself back in Southern California, dealing with her mother’s considerable debts and grappling with lingering questions about her death. The stakes escalate when a strange woman in red appears at the funeral, offering a tantalizing clue about her mother’s demise, followed by a cryptic video about a transformative spa experience. With the help of a pair of red shoes, Belle is lured into the barbed embrace of La Maison de Méduse, the same lavish, culty spa her mother to which her mother was devoted. There, Belle discovers the frightening secret behind her (and her mother’s) obsession with the mirror—and the great shimmering depths (and demons) that lurk on the other side of the glass.

Snow White meets Eyes Wide Shut in this surreal descent into the dark side of beauty, envy, grief, and the complicated love between mothers and daughters. With black humor and seductive horror, ROUGE explores the cult-like nature of the beauty industry—as well as the danger of internalizing its pitiless gaze. Brimming with California sunshine and blood-red rose petals, ROUGE holds up a warped mirror to our relationship with mortality, our collective fixation with the surface, and the wondrous, deep longing that might lie beneath.

Buy Here: https://bookshop.org/p/books/rouge-mona-awad/19834841

Spoiler-Free Review: This book pulled out an unexpected gut punch and got me REALLY teary-eyed at the end but that’s what makes it GOOD.

So there’s layers to this. The first, obvious one is that a huge portion of this book is an enormous send-up of the beauty industry and beauty influencers. There’s already plenty of commentary out there, both in fiction and nonfiction, about the ways the beauty industry harms people, but the way Awad uses Snow White and Beauty and the Beast is what adds a little extra punch. So many people, especially women, grow up believing that physical beauty is vitally important, that it makes one a “good” and/or “worthwhile” person, because from childhood we are fed this belief via fairytales and - mostly notably here - Disney movies. Awad takes this belief and turns it into a chilling nightmare as the protagonist (who is named Belle, incidentally - another nod to Disney’s take on Beauty and the Beast) attempts to become “beautiful” by following the advice of an online beauty influencer whom she follows with almost cult-like (another reference to the way the term “cult” has been adopted by both influencers and the beauty industry) devotion. Later on this obsession with becoming “beautiful” leads Belle down a very dark road that forms the novel’s main plot.

Awad also absolutely does not shy away from portraying the terrible effect all of this has on the protagonist’s mental health, most clearly shown in how the plot plays out. Nor does she shy away from showing how racist the beauty industry is, with its emphasis on how beauty products whiten skin - excuse me, call it “brightening”, because that’s how it’s marketed nowadays to avoid racist implications, and which is ANOTHER thing Awad points out in the novel. This racism is also shown in how the protagonist (who is mixed race, half-French Canadian and half-Egyptian) compares herself constantly to her white French mother and finds herself ugly in comparison. But at the same time, Awad points out the mother’s fear of growing old: another fear the beauty industry preys upon by offering products and procedures that offer to maintain, or even restore, youth.

But while all of that is interesting and pretty damn creepy in the way Awad’s incorporated all of it in the plot, the emotional core of this novel lies in the way it looks at grief, and the complex relationship between Belle and her mother. Once again Awad nods to fairytales in portraying their relationship: specifically Snow White, with Belle meant to stand in for Snow White and her mother standing in for the Queen - there’s even a mirror in this story that plays a rather significant role, and a prince too. But Awad laser-focuses on the connection between Belle and her mother, on the complexities and nuances of their relationship, wrapping it all up in a climactic scene that basically had me crying when I got to it. My relationship with my mother might not have been exactly like Belle’s, but in the general shape of it - especially the inability to be honest about my thoughts and feelings - well… It didn’t hit me right away, as the story was progressing, but when the climax of the novel happened it hit me all at once and had me crying, which is something I haven’t done since my mom passed.

Overall, this was a creepy, and towards the end, heart-wrenching read. Awad’s prose evokes obsession in a way that feels very visceral, while also evoking the sharp, tender emotions of a complicated mother-daughter relationship. Might not be the fastest, easiest read, but it’s certainly very rewarding.

Rating: five roses

[invidiosa]

The untold story of Last Night, Don McKellar’s Canadian classic, 25 years later

from a Globe & Mail Article for TIFF 2023 first published Sept 3, 2023

If it were your last night on earth, what would you do and who would you do it with?

Twenty-five years ago, Don McKellar’s debut film Last Night screened at the Toronto International Film Festival, where it was awarded Best Canadian First Feature. The poignant, perceptive drama about an unspecified imminent apocalypse, which also won McKellar a prize at Cannes, was acclaimed internationally as inspired counterprogramming to the loud American sci-fi disaster films of the same year, Deep Impact and Armageddon.

At the beginning of Last Night, the character played by Sandra Oh enters a deserted store looking for some wine for her final dinner. Among the looted shelves, two bottles remain. After deliberating between them, she picks one, while politely placing the other vintage back where she found it.

“That’s how you know it’s a Canadian film,” former TIFF executive director Wayne Clarkson said later.

That representation of Canadians – decorum in the face of doom – is key to Last Night’s considerable charm. “I wanted to tease the Canadian perspective but also validate it,” says McKellar, who also wrote and acted in the film. “Instead of Americans writing off Canadian cinema as passive, I wanted to say that there is value in reflection and moderation and community and tolerance.”

The film was recently digitally restored and will soon be released in its new 4K form. To celebrate its 25th anniversary, The Globe and Mail spoke with McKellar and others involved with the production of a Canadian classic which just might be the most civilized movie to watch on the last night of the civilized world.Open this photo in gallery:

The representation of Canadians – decorum in the face of doom – is key to Last Night’s considerable charm.Cylla von Tiedemann/Handout

Last Night was commissioned in 1997 by Paris-based production company Hout et Court for an international anthology series marking the turn of the millennium. Though it was supposed to be a one-hour television show, McKellar and Canadian co-producers Rhombus Media decided to make a feature film instead.

McKellar: I did make an hour version which had to be broadcast first on television in some territories. But, then, when the full feature film went to Cannes, it caused some friction. I thought Hout et Court would be excited, but it was very bureaucratic in France, and the government money was coming from the television side, not the film side. There was a bit of a conflict.

The French anthology project (2000, Seen By...) was intended to spotlight young directors – the new wave for the new millennium. Representing Canada was McKellar, a well-known actor and writer who previously directed the 1992 short Blue.

Canadian co-producer Niv Fichman: I wasn’t fazed by Don’s lack of experience at all. We were all boldly entering a new era. Originally, Don wasn’t sure he would be the lead character, but I really encouraged him to do it.

Although the film’s casting went smoothly, one famous Canadian actor was briefly in the running for the role of Craig Zwiller, who spends his final hours fulfilling a sexual bucket list.Open this photo in gallery:

The film is about an unspecified imminent apocalypse.Handout

McKellar: Everyone in the film was my first choice. But I had a bit of pressure on me to consider Keanu Reeves for the role I wanted for Callum Keith Rennie. I knew Callum – he was exciting. But out of obligation I approached Keanu. He said no, but that maybe he’d be interested in my part.

Rennie was well known for his punk-rocker role in Bruce McDonald’s Hard Core Logo and as a cast member on the CTV series Due South. He had not been in many sex scenes.

Rennie: It’s a bit intimidating. These scenes are delicate and fun and sensitive and weird. My brother told me I should have given him a bare-behind warning before he saw the film. I’ve done a lot more killing than kissing on screen in my career. It’s either the nature of the business or it’s the nature of my face, I can’t tell.

The character played by Sandra Oh is told that she “looks like a movie star.”Open this photo in gallery:

The film was screened at the Toronto International Film Festival 25 years ago, where it was awarded Best Canadian First Feature.Handout

McKellar: I’d met Sandra at a film festival in Taiwan, and I knew I wanted to work with her. She was on the HBO comedy series Arliss, but I thought she had romantic-lead potential.

Cinematographer Douglas Koch: When we were shooting these really emotional scenes between Sandra and Don, we were shooting over Sandra’s shoulder. She was off camera for all intents and purposes. With the camera on Don, tears would be pouring out of her eyes. She was totally giving it to the actor, Don, who was actually on screen. I’d heard of great actors doing that, but to see it was incredible. You realized this was an actor who does not stop.

The great Canadian director (and occasional actor) David Cronenberg was cast in a role that was to die for.

McKellar: I was representing Canada with the film, and it was set in Toronto. I always thought of David as representing this very contained Canadian personality type that had something dark going on behind. And, also, because of his own films, he represented something important to me about Canada.

Koch: We all enjoyed filming the death of Cronenberg’s character. We don’t see his death, but we do see the gory aftermath. I remember the camera above him as he was lying on this weird shag carpet in a huge pool of blood. We were all thinking, ‘We killed David Cronenberg – this is fantastic.’Open this photo in gallery:

Those who made Last Night recall a golden era of Canadian independent film.Handout

McKellar: At one point, I was seriously considering calling the film Whimper. I think I even had it on the script at one point until Cronenberg said to me, ‘You’re not seriously thinking of going with that, are you?’

The film was made for $2.3-million.

Rennie: I was still green. I was blown away working with David Cronenberg, Geneviève Bujold and Sandra Oh. There was the unity on set of doing a good thing on a shoestring budget.

Fichman: Actors always think the budgets are shoestring. Maybe they think there wasn’t enough water in their trailer. The budget wasn’t huge, but it wasn’t shoestring.

During the last hours of mankind, a radio DJ counts down his favourite 500 songs, including the Guess Who’s Glamour Boy, written by Burton Cummings.

McKellar: I love Glamour Boy. I was very pleased that when the Last Night soundtrack album was released, a British magazine trumpeted the song as the discovery of an unheralded glam-rock classic. I met Burton Cummings at a dinner and I told him how much I loved that song, but I felt he doubted my sincerity.

The film attracted a lot of notice at Cannes, where the now disgraced film producer Harvey Weinstein was given his own screening.

McKellar: While we were waiting for him to come out of the screening, his second-in-command turned to me and said, ‘If Harvey wants your film, can I tell you something? Don’t give it to him.’ I asked him why. He said, ‘Just trust me, you don’t want to work with this man. He’ll take your film and he may never release it. He just wants to own it.’ I thought it was very strange.

Those who made Last Night recall a golden era of Canadian independent film.

McKellar: At the time, we were still battling for cinemas. We felt an obligation to make films that Canadians would respond to at the box office. Now Canadian cinema has given up on that, and so has Telefilm.

Rennie: It was such a great time to be doing independent Canadian films. It was a graceful set with a lot of ease, and asking questions and getting answers. There were opportunities to experiment. I thought it would be that way forever, but it wasn’t.

[pepperf]

Robin Hood at the Regent's Park Open Air Theatre today! And of course it bucketed down solidly for an hour leading up to it. They delayed the start for about 20 mins, and finally the rain petered out, and our (compostable!) ponchos were not needed for the show itself - but the sunscreen was.

If you are in/near London and have the chance to go see it, I highly recommend it. It's on until 22nd July, so there's only a short run. If you do, go prepared for British weather.

Spoilerific review behind cut, in case anyone does go see it.

A good reinvention of the Robin Hood legend, with emphasis on making the story less male and white (in the end, the real Robin was young, black, and female), lots of derring-do and traditional elements (the arrow contest!) mixed with some unsubtle but enjoyable modern politics (the king ends by disenfranchising the wicked Barons, declaring all land to be common land, and abdicating, lol).

About half the cast were POC, and idk whether I'd say this was well-done or under-utilised? It's not really my shout, but it was interesting to note that the story itself did not explicitly point it out, but the heroic, good, and victimised characters were mostly POC, while the villains were mostly white and male.

Also, about half of the characters were female, including Little Joan (former court jester, with a slight look of Harley Quinn), and Mary Tuck (an ex-nun, with a penchant for Earth Mother spiritualism and mushroom tea). Marion was the lead - very similar to the other stage production of Robin Hood that I've seen (The Heart of Robin Hood at the RSC in oh god 2012?!). In that version, she was the true hero of Sherwood; in this (the next step on the ladder?), she was the one firing all the arrows, yes, but she also had a bad case of (Wealthy) White Saviour-ism, which ultimately held her back.

There was a fine selection of villains, too: the Sheriff was enjoyably rakish and selfishly ambitious, Gisburne was gorgeously terrifying and unhinged, and the wicked Council of Barons (all three of them) first appeared in a selection of boy band poses, to much hilarity.

And of course, being the old-skool Robin Hood fan that I am, I could not help loving the old Robin Hood references. First came the Errol Flynn-style Robin, in his hat, tunic, and green tights, a little untidy and possibly drunk, impatiently shooed offstage by the other characters. Then the hyper-masculine Russell Crowe/BBC 2006 type, called out for his accent ("Where are you even FROM?" "I come from the North of England! But I spent some formative years in Ireland...and my mother was French-Canadian..." I LOL'D). And then, oh my heart, the first bars of the Clannad theme rolled out, and the Michael Praed 80s Robin showed up, all athleticism and lucious locks - and there was such a delicious reaction from about 2/3rds of the audience (from which you could tell that this was a formative experience for a generation, many of whom are now parents. Behind me, a small kid asked in bewilderment, "Who's that?"). All three were barred from taking the hero role for being outdated caricatures - but also fondly given a place as forest spirits, part of the realm of the dead and the fictional, giving a cheery, sympathetic greeting to anyone who died.

There was some rather woolly but well-intentioned neo-pagan-esque woodland spirituality, which ultimately won the day and defeated the bad guys. I'm not sure they quite stuck the landing there, but I appreciated the aim all the same.

I loved it, and it was a great play to see outdoors, despite the weather. I'd love to go back and see it at night, I'm sure it's much more atmospheric, which would probably help sell me on the woo-woo parts - but sadly that's not going to be possible in the short time it's on. Still, overall, a great time was had.

[finishinglinepress]

NEW FROM FINISHING LINE PRESS: 10 Hours to Tulsa by Shelley Nation

On SALE now! Pre-order Price Guarantee: https://www.finishinglinepress.com/product/10-hours-to-tulsa-by-shelley-nation/

Shelley Nation shares her life experiences growing up in #Tulsa, Oklahoma through her engaging prose. From specific events to the words and thoughts of her family and friends, Shelley takes us on a journey of one child’s memories.

Shelley Nation was the co-host of one of Chicago’s longest running #poetry talk shows, Wordslingers, which aired on WLUW FM from Loyola University, from 1999 to 2009. She has been writing and performing poetry in the Chicago area since 1988, and has hosted several poetry venues over the years. She has been published in many poetry journals including Wisconsin Review, The Dead Mule School of Southern Literature, The RavenPerch, Copperfield Review Quarterly, among others. Shelley has been a teacher and counselor in Chicago for the past 31 years and holds two Master’s Degrees in education. Shelley is a citizen of the #Cherokee #Nation of #Oklahoma and has recently begun to write about the experience of her grandmother and other members of her family as they lived through their struggles in Cherokee Nation territory, from Tennessee and Alabama to the Canadian District in Indian Territory/Oklahoma.

PRAISE FOR 10 Hours to Tulsa by Shelley Nation

In 10 Hours to Tulsa, Nation-Watson revisits growing up in Tulsa, a Hank Williams/Jerry Falwell/Step-parent/belt buckle place where the speaker clearly states “I don’t belong.” With the river as a “wasteland for memories” and home being “an idea far removed from her dream,” Nation-Watson renders sharp portraits of the people and places that formed a life, one that the speaker can remember and yet “keep driving.”

–Donna Vorreyer, the author of three full-length collections of poetry: To Everything There Is(Sundress Publications, 2020),Every Love Story is an Apocalypse Story (Sundress Publications, 2016), and A House of Many Windows (Sundress Publications, 2013)

“Poet Shelley Nation‘s chapbook10 Hours to Tulsa invites the reader on a road trip towards her beginnings. People and places are sketched in spare lines. Yet, these are lyric poems, not narrative. The use of inventive wordplay, shifting rhythms, and the persona form charge the personal imagery with emotional resonance. She asks what feelings from memories or dreams still connect to this place and these people, and how those feelings have changed and shifted. There’s heartbreak and humor, but no unearned sentiment — as if Patsy Cline had ever met up with Joy Harjo over a bourbon, neat.”

—Chicago poet Elizabeth Marino is the author of Asylum (Vagabond, 2020), the chapbook Ceremonies (dancing girl press) and Debris (Puddin’head Press), and a Pushcart Prize nominee.

In her stellar chapbook 10 Hours to Tulsa, Shelley Nation, a long-time, familiar presence in the Chicago poetry scene, reconnects with her Indigenous roots on the page, as well as in the flesh, having returned to her native Oklahoma. It’s apropos then, that these poems feel like a kind of personal guidebook to survival. With these vivid and detailed portraits, including “Uncle Harold,” “The Trailer Next Door,” “Reuben,” “A Friend from Bartlesville Comes to Visit,” “Everclear,” and “Unmentionables,” Nation has deftly created what amounts to a literary art gallery.

–Gregg Shapiro, author of Refrain in Light

Shelley Nation offers readers her bitter Oklahoma accounts of growing up inside a dysfunctional home where her soul’s refuge was to engage in adult imaginings which made it possible to escape with the assistance of the same potions and positions that bled into agony. Her solace was in her power to play and disguise herself while alone or with a confidant neighbor girl. Nation’s narrator is pulled by two huge magnets of her mother’s incendiary screams and father’s inebriated neglect and regrets. I was totally captivated by the poem “Uncle Harold” its tone and cadence captured in the character’s approach to a grand capricious life in a language worthy of a short film. There’s some familial trauma similar to what poets Sharon Olds and Sylvia Plath would have recognized, but Nation’s take is grittier and more country.

–Carlos Cumpian, author of Human Cicada (Prickly Pear Publishing)

10 hours to Tulsa is a crafty set of poetry that conjures up a working class, wrangler jean wearing, cowboy-booted Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz who drinks her whiskey straight and steals the cigarette from you after you light it. Not quite romanticized but lived experiences that feel as real as lipstick left on the rim of a glass.

–Andrea Change – Executive Director of Chicago’s Guild Literary Complex

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[piousperjuror]

I still think I should have asked her.

Would it have been rude? Could I have taken her aside?

I ask these questions when I recall the nights before she gave birth. She had an uneasy smile about her. It was winter, and night fell quickly. She was sitting on the couch, centred against the backdrop of the upstairs front windows. She glowed without daylight, as she always does… did. She did.

She mocked herself for her swollen, golem feet. I remember the hens gathered around her on the floor, trying to keep everything light and airy. We were suspended in that moment above a terrifying reality that had not been actualised, but one which was inevitable.

My cousin N was murdered last summer. It is genuinely difficult to say that. I have said things are difficult to say before without knowing what that saying meant. The words do not form easily. I cannot dwell for long periods of time on the subject. It hurts me to try and feel what that means.

The last time I saw her was in my parent’s backyard, two summers prior. She had a knack for making everyone feel blanketed by the warmth of her compliments. She seemed better. We knew she had stayed in Vancouver for a while. We spoke about men: our shitty exes, stalkers, and horrifying experiences as women. We sat on the wooden bench next to the out-dated glass table. We rested our feet on cool concrete, surrounded by the afterglow of a sunset and the sound of intermittent traffic.

Admittedly, the attention was focused on my first cousin, M. She was stunning, but her ostensibly cold exterior hides the anxious heart of someone who has known how to be one of the ugliest versions of herself. M was now someone who knew they could not go back.

I knew during my year abroad she had been in a terrifyingly abusive relationship with that guy. That guy who thinks of nothing but his next high and his own feelings - because his family taught him nothing else is important. His mother, betrayer of her own sex, belittled M’s claims. Her neighbours, strangers to her pleas and witness to the precursor of a potential fate, did not. I am grateful to these strangers, and it made me feel guilty I did not do more. How I despised those Italian-Canadian wives who spoilt their sons and ignored their daughters.

Growing up in a traditional Italian diaspora of Toronto has challenges. Family image is paramount. We are all told without telling how we must be at home, contrary to what is taught by our Anglo, mangiacake schools.

I was lucky to be born into a family without that ‘sacred’ family structure. I was raised in the more diverse areas of the city. I was exposed to many cultures and freedoms: some of which my suburban high school colleagues were not afforded.

However, instilled in me was a virus that was planted in my early adolescence: the belief that silence is of better measure than truth.

And silent I was, thinking about the phone call I received early morning in Manchester from Costa Rica while M took her first trip with that scumbag, low life, slug. My texts were frantic, and I panicked thinking my cousin was stuck in a foreign country. She never mentioned him. I had no knowledge of this relationship starting. You can imagine the surprise when he texted me from her phone to admit defeat. Foreign numbers, unsaved, sending her “I love you” apparently warrants a test call from a paranoid abuser. One who is currently not where he should be: behind bars and removed from any society or greater opportunity.

My rage. How could she let this happen? Didn’t I tell her? Did I tell her… ?

I texted her. I gave her my cursory opinion. Never direct. We must never be direct - lest it is your fault. They have to realise it on their own, K.

Silly me. Remember what others do.

Sitting in the dark and being ‘eaten alive’ by pests, we continued hearing her stories. I couldn’t help but feel if I had called her incessantly she might have saved herself.

N was usually quiet when she was high. Always giggling. She felt, off? After M was finished her story, holding her leg close to her chest, we all froze. It was as if our shared experiences closed around us, and we collectively understood. It was eerie - as if a cloud of heavy armour had been shed. That is when N started to speak.

It was surface level speak. The speak women speak like to other women in our culture when they cannot or will not divulge too much directly. Who else runs away to the other side of one of the largest countries in the world to get away from their son’s father? And why else?

I told her how she should find herself someone like my husband out there. Was this to break the tension? Did I feel awkward and not want to press her? I remember feeling I wanted to know more. I can see myself now screaming at the shadowy memory of who I was before for not asking.

Would she have told me? I don’t think she would. She told the cops, or so she said. She had “no faith in them. They’re useless.”

And they were. The courts were less than useless.

Looking back, we should have seen the signs. I struggle with that guilt. I am asked, “did she not tell you because she didn’t know if anyone would want to listen?”

The day it happened, I found the news articles from that year prior to the pandemic. He had been charged with uttering death threats, and breaking into her home where she had continued to rent. He had been charged with possessing a weapon, and potentially assault.

Why weren’t we told, Mom?

Everything has a habit of coming out after it is too late. When the time for proper actions has passed.

Global News took hours and several reposts to get the story right, but they were the only ones that cared. She shared a headline with another woman who was killed by her ex-partner. I manically flicked through all the coverage I could find.

It is hard to accept that I will not see her again.

I found a video of N recently from D’s baby shower where she won a prize. The last shower she had been to involved her hiding a pregnancy.

She nearly chokes on all the water during the game. She walks back to our table, struggling through laughter and correcting her breathing. You can hear my trademark, inherited laugh:

“Don’t die.”