#a man whose greatness is defined by war

[amicablug]

And what if I cried?

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Literary Character

In a literary work, characters are the persons who are given certain moral, intellectual, and emotional qualities by the author.

Two Major Types of Characters

Static. The static character is one who is "flat" and two-dimensional. Such a character is usually recognized by one or two simple traits. The hallmark of a static character is that he or she will not change in spite of experience or conflict. This type of character remains unchanged by events and experiences. An example of a static character is Mistress Quickly in Henry IV.

Dynamic. The dynamic character is one who is "round" and three-dimensional. His or her personality, motives, and attitudes are complex. Such a character cannot be summed up by one or two traits. The hallmark of a dynamic character is change. This type of character will be changed and influenced by events and experiences. An example of a dynamic character is Pip in Great Expectations.

Criteria for Analyzing Character

The reader can use the criteria below in order to analyze, interpret, and draw conclusions about a character.

Appearance. Appearance generally falls into two categories: external and physical. External appearance consists of extrinsic qualities, such as clothing, jewelry, tattoos, or hairstyle. Through these external factors, you may determine a character’s taste, social status, occupation, or personality. Physical appearance, on the other hand, consists of intrinsic qualities, such as height, weight, facial expression, or tone of voice. These physical factors can suggest different personality traits. For example, a muscular physique might suggest strength; a skinny physique might suggest weakness. Be careful, however, not to judge a character on appearance alone. Appearance and reality are not always the same.

Behavior and Actions. In literature, all behavior and actions help define character. Nothing a character does is arbitrary or incidental. Small nuances of behavior need to be interpreted, as well as major decisive actions. Therefore, when trying to define what a character is like, consider what that character does. Do his or her actions reveal courage, ignorance, cunning, or generosity? For your analysis to be complete, consider involuntary behavior, such as nervous twitching, fast talking, or profuse sweating.

Biography. Often in short stories or novels, biographical information about a character will be revealed: place of birth, era of childhood, type of education, early careers, successes, failures, even the identity and occupation of the character’s parents. Such information can be used to sharpen the picture of a character, or to give added credibility to traits and values that have been identified.

Dialogue. Closely scrutinize what characters say and how they say it, for dialogue is significant. A character’s speech reveals traits and values in 2 principal ways:

Direct Expression. The correlation is patently clear between what the character says and who the character is. Nothing is hidden; nothing is subtly suggested. Direct expression requires little or no interpretation by the reader. What the character says provides immediate insight. For example, in Paradise Lost, the fallen angel Moloch states how he would like to deal with the angels left in heaven, “My sentence is for open war.” Moloch’s hostile nature is revealed directly.

Indirect Expression. The correlation is implied between what the character says and who the character is. The meaning of words may be hidden or suggested. Thus, the reader must determine the unstated meaning of a character’s words. For example, at a ball in Pride and Prejudice, Mr. Darcy is asked if he’ll join in the dancing. He replies, “All savages dance.” At its face value, the statement could be a harmless observation about dancing. Instead, it reveals Mr. Darcy as a haughty man whose sense of superiority makes him disdainful of his company.

Emotions. When interpreting a character, you will be trying to get below the surface of that character to see deeper meanings. To do so, take into account a character’s temperament. Temperament may manifest itself in some general traits, such as whether a character is introverted or extroverted, optimistic or pessimistic, sensitive or indifferent. Or, temperament may reveal itself in specific emotional states, such as anger, melancholy, anxiety, compassion, or happiness.

Thoughts. If an author uses “direct expression” to reveal a character's thoughts and values, you need only to note what these thoughts and values are, explaining why they are significant. However, a character’s thoughts are rarely revealed directly. Therefore, you will need to interpret, infer, and draw conclusions about a character's thoughts. To do so, gather evidence from the above criteria. These criteria can all come together to form a composite sketch of a character, revealing his or her true opinions and beliefs.

What other characters say and think. The statements and thoughts of one character regarding another can be a valid source of information. However, this information can be double-edged. While you may learn about a character based on the statements and thoughts of another, you will have to evaluate the accuracy and reliability of those statements and thoughts. A reliable character will usually be perceptive and a good judge of character; an unreliable character will be flawed in some way that inhibits his or her judgment.

How To Write about Character

When writing about character, you may use the following 3-step process. Keep in mind that this is a general approach.

Establish major character traits. Pin down the character’s traits. Because the main characters in a work will have depth and complexity, you should be able to distinguish at least three prominent traits. These traits may be closely related, but they must be distinctly different.

Support major character traits with examples. The traits you establish in step 1 will be based on general impressions. In step 2, however, you must support these traits with concrete examples. For example, if you assert that “vindictiveness” is a trait, you must substantiate vindictiveness with examples from the literary work.

Explain how and why your examples substantiate a particular trait. Step 3 is the most important (and most difficult) stage of your paper. You must go beyond merely linking examples with traits; you must elaborate your views of a character’s traits with explanation. Your explanation must tell how and why your examples reveal a particular trait, whether the trait is moral, intellectual, or emotional.

Note: Other non-human entities can perform in the role of “characters.” For example, animals, nature (rivers, mountains, oceans, etc.), and man-made creations (cities, machines, houses, etc.) can function as characters.

If these writing notes help with your poem/story, do tag me. Or send me a link. I'd love to read them!

Writing Notes & References

[aethon-recs]

23 Tomarrymort Recs for 2023 (Longfic Edition)

Happy New Year! 🤍 Here is a round-up of some of the most engaging multi-chaptered works/longfics that I came across in this ship in 2023.

I found each of these fics, in their depiction of the ship, to be a fresh or surprising take on our familiar beloved characters of Harry and Tom|Voldemort, truly groundbreaking in some way in their approach to the ship. It's amazing to me that even after 20+ years of this ship existing, there's still new themes / tropes / dynamics to explore, and the authors are all so talented in making me think about the ship in some new way — just incredible examples of what it means to be a transformative work of fanfiction.

Criteria for this list: multi-chaptered, Tomarrymort-centric, with at least 1 update published in 2023. As with a previous longfic rec list, I tried to find longer fics that were relatively under-rated (which is hard to define, but below 2K kudos for the most part).

See here for Part 1 (2023 Tomarrymort one-shots), and hope you lose many many happy hours to the unbridled joy of immersing yourself in one or more of these incredibly addictive, lovely longer fics!

*

23 Tomarrymort Recs for 2023 — Multi-Chaptered Fics

A Darkness by Any Other Name by river_marrow (M, 30k, WIP) 

Decades after the war ends, Harry is thrown through the Veil, and finds himself in an alternate reality where the leader of the Muggleborn uprising is the Dark Lord Voldemort.

A Dead God's Faith by @selfishrot (M, 35k, WIP)

Blood and spittle rush to follow Riddle’s words that are dragged out through a wrecked throat. “I will consume you.” Harry felt a thrill run up his spine, along with the usual fear and anger that accompanied Voldemort's threats. “Be gentle, I can feel your soul ripping its stitches.”

And the Living Will Envy the Dead by @k-s-morgan (M, 81k, WIP)

When Harry looks at Tom, he feels overwhelmed. There is a spark that makes him hopeful, the fear that nothing he does will save Tom from himself, and the horror at what his lies might lead to. When Tom looks at Harry, he feels nothing. Until he does, and then Harry’s world starts drowning in blood.

At the expense of the world by @itsevanffs (E, 24k, WIP)

"He had a lover, you know," Jenkins says to Remus once Harry's behind a wall and out of sight again. "A boy, and a gorgeous one at that. Nobody really knew where he came from, and Tom didn't seem to favour him either, at first, but by the end, he was besotted."

Bitumen by @crowcrowcrowthing (E, 32k, WIP)

Harry finds out the hard way that Dementors can’t digest Horcruxes. Now separated from his body, his best option is to seek out a similar soul for help. A love story about immortals with too much time to kill.

Creatures of the Dark we are by @hikarimeroperiddle (M, 25k, WIP)

Banished to his cupboard at age 4, Harry learns to listen only to the Voice in his head. Its teachings wrap all around Harry until no more than dark magic and devotion remains, along with visions of a wraith with red eyes.

Exceeding Expectations by @mosiva (E, 56k, complete)

Harry Potter’s life ran along very different lines than Tom Riddle’s. He knew nothing more of the man than he read in the Daily Prophet. Then they get stuck in a lift together.

Exegesis by liquoricepantomime (M, 38k, WIP)

In exchange for peace, Voldemort asks for Harry Potter. And so, there is a new legacy that forms — of The-Boy-Who-Was-Sold, and his childhood spent in a castle, with a man who has killed his parents. A man who is mad, and whose ire reigns fiery hell. A man he will marry, and yet knows nothing about.

found by @honbug (E, 112k, WIP)

Tom knows from the beginning that he is destined for greatness. Nothing and no one will stop him from achieving his goals. (And then, of course, there are the dreams.)

hook, line, and sinker by @purplemineralwater (E, 21k, WIP)

Harry asks Professor Riddle for help in killing Voldemort. Riddle is endlessly amused.

if we were lovers by @reggieblk (E, 277k, complete)

When Harry arrives at the most prestigious theatrical school in the country, he doesn't have many expectations. The most unexpected thing he encounters is Tom Riddle, and subsequently, falling in love with the only other person who deals with feelings as well as him. But maybe, just maybe, he and Tom will find out that not all love stories have to end in tragedy.

Lover's Spit by @blogalinda & @k3uuu (E, 123k, WIP)

Following his father's arrest on a dull hot Sunday in North Yorkshire, 10-year-old Tom Riddle becomes a dark internet sensation.  If Harry Potter listened to his father, he would never speak to Riddle again. But eight years after the arrest, an unexpected and painful encounter leads Harry to reconsider events — and arrive at a conclusion all his own. 

One Year In Every Ten by @saintsenara (E, 189k, WIP)

A decade after the final battle, a serial killer emerges, with a message that proclaims the Dark Lord has risen again. Harry is assigned to the case.

Oversight by @dividawrites (E, 21k, WIP)

Voldemort’s resurrection ritual doesn’t go as smoothly as he’d planned. He requires assistance and there’s only one person he can ask—the boy tied to his father’s gravestone.

Paved With the Best Intentions by @perhaps-sunlight (M, 113k, WIP)

Instead of dying during the Battle of Hogwarts, Voldemort de-ages into an infant. Until he becomes old enough to be legally executed, he will be magically bound to Harry.

Prison Blues by @metalomagnetic (E, 68k, WIP) 

Harry and Voldemort find themselves locked up in a mysterious prison in an A/B/O alternate universe setting.

Revolution of Configured Stars by @tollingreminiscentbells (E, 110k, WIP)

In a Voldemort Wins AU, Harry Potter was spared, and enters his seventh year at Hogwarts wanting to do Arithmancy research and keep his head down. However, after a chance encounter, it looks like it may not be so simple. Marvolo Gaunt seems to have his eye on Harry. The trouble is, Harry has no idea why. 

Tender Reigns Our Night by @noumena-writes (M, 93k, WIP)

Sent on a Ministry mission to fight for magic's survival, Harry goes back in time with two simple objectives: find and destroy any existing Horcruxes, and stop Tom Riddle ever evolving into Voldemort — using any means necessary. Harry thus finds himself working alongside Riddle at Borgin and Burke's, examining dark artefacts and desperately trying to fulfil his orders.

the demiurge, the leontoeides by @ramabear (E, 125k, WIP)

Thomas Gaunt reaches through the dimensions and plucks an eleven-year-old Harry Potter from his world and brings him home again.

the eternal flame by @duplicitywrites (E, 25k, WIP) 

There’s a well-dressed older man who enters the orphanage asking after Tom Riddle. The man’s green eyes fix on Tom’s face, searching and searching.  “My name is Harry Gaunt,” the man says, the tenor of his voice soft and faltering, a reflection of Tom's deepest, most secret anxieties, “and I’m here to adopt you.”

the righteous dead by @aspengray (T, 23k, WIP)

Harry is resurrected, sewn together with thread and magic. He remembers nothing except that he loves his savior, a man named Voldemort.

The Longing by @aglassroseneverfades (M, 33k, WIP)

Harry is not thinking of his parents right now as he trudges up to Voldemort’s eerie castle. He is thinking instead, as he often does, of a name that burns too brightly on his wrist in the pre-dawn light. He is wondering if somehow the fruitless tugging on his heart means that somewhere, some way, Tom is watching over him. 

With a resolute heart by Act_Naturally (M, 157k, WIP)

A Hunger Games-AU featuring Harry and Tom as competing champions.  Harry has a saving people thing. It’s not conducive to surviving a battle royale. He doesn’t fancy his chances. Especially against Tom Riddle.

*

[antifainternational]

Since youre antifascist, how about you give us a definition of fascism? What exactly makes someone a fascist? (and in case you use terms such as left-wing or right-wing be sure to define them too)

Guess it's been a while since a clever Anon challenged us to define fascism, huh? Right, let's get into it: Via the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum:

Yale professor Jason Stanley:

“Fascism is a creation of race hatred and its politically organized expression.” - Willhelm Reich, The Mass Psychology of Fascism (1933).

“Fascism is capitalism plus murder.” - Upton Sinclair

“Repression by brute force is always a confession of the inability to make use of the better weapons of the intellect — better because they alone give promise of final success. This is the fundamental error from which Fascism suffers and which will ultimately cause its downfall…that its foreign policy, based as it is on the avowed principle of force in international relations, cannot fail to give rise to an endless series of wars that must destroy all of modern civilization requires no further discussion. To maintain and further raise our present level of economic development, peace among nations must be assured. But they cannot live together in peace if the basic tenet of the ideology by which they are governed is the belief that one’s own nation can secure its place in the community of nations by force alone. ” - Ludwig von Mises,  Liberalism: A Socio-Economic Exposition (1927).

“Spent most of the day reading fascisti leaflets. They certainly have turned the whole country into an army. From cradle to grave one is cast in the mould of fascismo and there can be no escape … It is certainly a socialist experiment in that it destroys individuality. It destroys liberty.” -  Harold Nicolson, The Harold Nicolson Diaries : 1919-1964 (2004).

“The liberty of a democracy is not safe if the people tolerated the growth of private power to a point where it becomes stronger than the democratic state itself. That in its essence is fascism: ownership of government by an individual, by a group, or any controlling private power.” - Franklin D. Roosevelt

“A fascist is one whose lust for money or power is combined with such an intensity of intolerance toward those of other races, parties, classes, religions, cultures, regions or nations as to make him ruthless in his use of deceit or violence to attain his ends….If we define an American fascist as one who in case of conflict puts money and power ahead of human beings, then there are undoubtedly several million fascists in the United States.” - Henry A. Wallace

“Fascism is the cult of organised murder, invented by the arch-enemies of society. It tends to destroy civilization and revert man to his most barbarous state. Mussolini and Hitler might well be called the devils of an age, for they are playing hell with civilization.” - Marcus Garvey,  Authors take Sides on the Spanish War, 1937 Philosophy Tube's breakdown of the elements of fascism is very thorough and recommended if you're not the reading type. But do you read books? We hope so if you're looking to engage in political discussion about anything. Here are some books that tackle the definition of fascism, in whole or in part, that we would recommend to you (check/order from your local library!) Mark Bray's highly-accessible Antifa: The Anti-Fascist Handbook is a great starting point for this topic.

Columbia history professor Robert O. Paxton's excellent book The Anatomy of Fascism goes into this in great detail.

There's also Umberto Eco's The Eternal Fascist

or his "practical list for identifying fascists" as well as Hannah Arendt's seminal The Origins of Totalitarianism

We hope you weren't looking for a simple answer to the complex question of "what is fascism?" Anon, just as we hope you're up to taking our challenge of checking out all of the above so you're curiosity is satisfied and you're well-versed on the topic.

[chopinski-official]

Chopin's Funeral

By Benita Eisler

Funeral at La Madeleine, 1868

On a sparkling Paris morning, Tuesday, October 30, 1849, crowds poured into the square in front of the Church of the Madeleine. The occasion was the funeral of Frédéric Chopin, and for it, the entire facade of the great neoclassical temple had been draped in swags of black velvet centred with a cartouche bearing the silver-embroidered initials FC. 

Admission was by invitation only: Between three thousand and four thousand had received the black-bordered cards. Observing the square with its crush of carriages, the liveried grooms and sleek horses, the throngs converging on the porch, Hector Berlioz reported that "the whole of artistic and aristocratic Paris was there." But another who surveyed the crowd, the music critic for the Times of London, suspected that of the four thousand who filled the pews, a large number had been admitted just before noon, strangers to the dead man, mere bystanders even, "many of whom, perhaps, had never heard of him." 

Facades of La Madeleine, 1840-70

If death is a mirror of life, Chopin's funeral reflected all the disjunctions of his brief existence. The most private of artists, his genius was mourned in a public event worthy of a head of state. Canonized as "angelic," a Shelleyan "poet of the keyboard," Chopin seemed to personify romanticism, and before he was buried, its myths had already embalmed him: a short and tragic life; an heroic role as Polish patriot and exile; doomed lover of the century's most notorious woman; and finally, his death from consumption, that killer of youth, beauty, genius, and of courtesans foolish enough to fall in love. 

Chopin's Last Chords by Józef Męcina-Krzesz

In reality, he was the least romantic of artists. While the generation that had come of age just before his own in France, including the Olympian Victor Hugo, had defined romanticism as a holy war of the "moderns" (themselves) against the "ancients" (their literary elders), setting off riots in theaters to make their point, Chopin clung to the past. His musical touchstones were Haydn, Mozart-but especially Bach. He harbored doubts about Beethoven's lapses of taste, was incurious about the music of Schubert, and generally contemptuous of his other contemporaries: Schumann, Berlioz, and Liszt, towards whom his feelings were further tangled by rivalrous friendship. In art, he preferred the marmoreal neoclassicism of Ingres and his followers to the radical inventions in color and form of his friend Delacroix. Socially and politically, he was still more conservative. 

The same aristocratic circles that had embraced Chopin the child prodigy in Warsaw were waiting to welcome the twenty-one-year-old sensation of Paris. Chopin arrived in France in 1831. One year before, revolution had replaced the Bourbon Restoration with the Orleanists swept in by Louis Philippe and his July monarchy. It was still a world of fixed hierarchies: of titles, birth, and breeding, buoyed by a flood tide of fresh money coined by the financiers and industrialists whose entertainments outshone the Sun King in splendor, if not in style. Chopin made some friends among the professional middle class-a less grand banker or diplomat, a few fellow musicians. He had a horror of "the People" as a force of upheaval or even change (which he dreaded in any form), and he was suspicious of those who championed their cause. He was appalled by that quintessentially romantic belief, whose most ardent proponent was George Sand, that art must serve the cause of social justice-or, indeed, any other cause except itself. 

Like many who have thrived as "exceptions," propelled by talent from modest origins to a place among the privileged, Chopin was repelled by marginality: by poor Poles, by Jews, by the ill-dressed and ill-mannered, by coarseness or slovenliness, in art or life. 

Chopin’s hand and death mask

Most likenesses of the composer suggest that he was far from handsome. He had pale, colorless hair, a thin, hooked nose, a pursey mouth, and rabbity, lashless eyes. In these images, Chopin bears only a glancing resemblance to his famous portrait by Delacroix-the portrait of romantic genius itself, with his tousled chestnut mane and burning inward gaze. Chopin's famous dandyism, then, must be understood as another labor of creation, like his music an imperious quest for perfection. The dandy enlists distinction-in dress, speech, manners-along with distance, to create a masterpiece: himself. 

What appeared to many-then and now-as the snobbery of a provincial, self-invented aristocrat and aesthete, had deeper sources. Chopin needed the reassurance that a fixed social order provides. Dependent and childlike in many ways, he clung to the security of protective institutions-the monarchy, the Church, and the family-which defined themselves proudly as patriarchal, stern but loving fathers keeping watch over children, dedicated to exalting an ideal past and to keeping present chaos at bay. 

Two years and only two public concerts after his arrival in Paris, Chopin ranked among those few artists who moved in every circle that counted. Ignoring protocol, older, established musicians called upon him. He was a fixture at the grandest houses, where, arriving in his own carriage, he was welcomed as a lionized guest who never failed to charm and amuse; if he could be prevailed upon to perform, he hypnotized every listener. The musically knowledgeable drew close to the piano to study the wizardry of his technique and his famous inventions in fingering, third finger crossing the fourth, that made his impossibly difficult compositions appear effortless. Fellow exiles heard laments for a homeland in the languorous rubato of the mazurkas, with their heart-catching drop from major to minor keys, but the mood of elegy was as often shattered by discordant salvos of unleashed rage. Even those guests whose attendance was simply an occasion to wear the new diamonds, to remark casually at the bourse that the reception last evening at Baron James's had been more than usually delightful, stayed well past midnight, straining to hear the final note, when the pianist, pale and exhausted, rose wearily to take his bow. It was uncanny how Chopin's music spoke so intimately to their most private, long-buried thoughts and memories, evoking childhood happiness and lost love; innocent, nobler selves trampled by the harsh rules of life. 

Seventeen years later, he died, destitute, in an apartment paid for by friends at the most fashionable address in the most expensive quarter of Paris.

A drawing by T. Kwiatkowski of Frederic Chopin on his deathbed, 1849

Now, at the funeral, emissaries from the world of music were outnumbered by mourners from the ranks of the rich and titled. The Polish émigré aristocracy and its French counterpart among the old noblesse were in turn outshone by new money: bankers and speculators whose wives and daughters had also been among Chopin's pupils. Certain of the fashionable, one reporter noted, appeared indecorously attired in brilliant colors, glittering with jewels. 

While the crowd filed through the portal, the closed casket was carried from the sanctuary and placed under an elaborate catafalque ("utterly pretentious," in the view of Paris's leading music critic) at the transept. Chopin's embalmed body had lain in the crypt for almost two weeks since his death on October 17, aged thirty-nine. His dying had been long and terrible, the disease that killed him still not diagnosed with certainty: tuberculosis of the larynx, cystic fibrosis, mitral stenosis, or a rare viral infection? 

Interior of La Madeleine, 1845.

With a dandy's discipline, in his final agony of slow suffocation, Chopin had planned the musical program whose principal offering was to be a performance of Mozart's Requiem. Unknown to the dying man, women were not permitted to sing in the city's parish churches; it had taken days of pleading on the part of Chopin's most powerful friends before a special dispensation was issued by the Archbishop of Paris. The decree allowed female participation provided it remained invisible; thus the women singers, including Chopin's friend Pauline Viardot among the featured soloists, were hidden from view behind a black velvet curtain. 

As the mourners took their places, the organist played the funeral march from Chopin's own Sonata in B-flat Minor. Then, the choir of the Paris Conservatory sounded the opening notes of the Requiem's Introitus, followed by the first solo — "Te decet hymnus, Deus," Viardot sang, her glorious mezzo-soprano soaring above the chorus and orchestra. Then, voices and instruments were stilled while the priest chanted the High Mass for the Dead.

Modern day interior of La Madeleine

The pallbearers emerged from their pews. Two princes, Adam and Alexandre Czartoryski, represented the community of Polish exiles. The painter Eugène Delacroix mourned the friend he had both loved and revered, calling him "the truest artist among us." From the world of music, the composer Giacomo Meyerbeer, decorations glinting against his dark mourning attire, appeared the personification of success. He had been the merest acquaintance, but Chopin, passionate for opera, had been a fan, like millions of others who had made Meyerbeer a rich man. In contrast, cellist and composer Auguste Franchomme was known to few. But the modest, scholarly professor at the Conservatory had been the inspiration for the only music Chopin would ever write for an instrument other than the piano. Franchomme was followed by a collaborator of another kind, Camille Pleyel, manufacturer of the pianos that Chopin, more than any other composer who ever lived, had made the instrument of genius. 

Shouldering the massive coffin, the six men moved up the nave to the sounds of the organ playing Chopin's Preludes in E Minor and B Minor. Many of those now leaving had heard the composer play these pieces-his favorites-in their own houses, in the salons of friends, or in Pleyel's concert rooms. The familiar notes on the somber instrument spoke of the voice they would never hear again, and they wept. 

Sick Chopin at Piano. Illustration on postcard by A. Serkowicz

Outside the church, the mourners gathered around the corbillard, the wagon hearse particular to Paris. Drawn by black plumed horses, it aroused shivers of dread, but also of excitement: Parisians loved a funeral. By this time, most of the mourners had dispersed; Chopin had forbidden any graveside ceremony. With the exception of the pallbearers, freed now of their burden, those who remained were women. They surrounded the small figure of the composer's older sister, Ludwika, summoned from Warsaw by the dying man at the end of June. "Please come, if you can," he had begged, even if she had to borrow the money, of which, he, alas, had none to advance. "Apply for a passport immediately," he urged, and lest he should sound like his familiar hypochrondriacal self, he invoked the advice of others close to him and concerned for his health who had agreed that no medicine would help him as much as the sight of his sister. At the same time, he tried to deny the urgency of his condition. "I don't know myself why I yearn to see Ludwika," he wrote, with a wan coyness, to the rest of the family. "It's like those whims of pregnant women." 

Ludwika Chopin

Chopin might have spent the last twenty years in the most emancipated company of Paris, but it was still natural to him to ask permission of his brother-in-law for Ludwika to make the journey: "A wife must obey her husband," he wrote. "Thus, I am asking you as the husband to accompany your spouse." With the intervention of the czar's ambassador to France, whose wife was Polish, the endless passport process was hastened and Ludwika, accompanied by her husband, Józef Kalasanty Jedrzejewciz, and fifteen-year-old daughter, arrived in Paris in August. But the grumpy Kalasanty returned to Poland in September; it was only Chopin's sister and his little niece Louisette who remained with him to the end. 

Another young mourner, Adolf Gutmann, thirty years old, was one of Chopin's few pupils training to be a professional musician. Others, including pianists said to be just as talented, could not have performed by virtue of birth; they were women and aristocrats of title or wealth; indeed, the most gifted of all Chopin's students was a princess, Marcelina Czartoryska, who had walked to the cemetery accompanied by Countess Delfina Potocka. Sumptuously beautiful of face and body, her golden hair as bewitching as her soprano voice, Delfina, long separated from her husband, was so prodigal with her sexual favors that she had been crowned "the Great Sinner"-no small distinction in the Paris of the July Monarchy. Chopin was rumored to have been one of her many lovers. She had rushed to Paris from her villa in Nice at the news that he was dying. With only hours to live, he had begged Delfina to play and sing for him. A piano was moved to the open door of his bedroom. But the sounds of the voice so dear to him or the music she played or sang caused spasms of choking and he motioned for her to stop. 

Death of Chopin by Félix-Joseph Barrias. Showing Potocka singing to Chopin.

Sending their carriages ahead, the Polish noblewomen walked the distance, east along the grand boulevards, skirting the slums of Paris to Père Lachaise Cemetery. Others, arriving earlier in hired cabs, stood waiting by the open grave: a brawny red-haired sculptor, Auguste Clésinger, and his young wife, Solange, daughter of George Sand. Clésinger had been summoned to the dying man's bedside to mold the death mask, but the resulting likeness-bald head, drooping eyes, mouth contorted by agonized efforts to breathe-was rejected by the horrified Ludwika. Working swiftly, the sculptor had applied another layer of wet plaster, which, after removal, he reworked, smoothing away all evidence of struggle and pain until the dead man's features were composed into an expression of Christian peace. Clésinger's reward was the commission for a funerary monument, and he now surveyed the site where his marble tribute, featuring a Muse holding a lyre, would rise above a small oval profile of the composer. 

Chopin’s Grave, All Souls’ Day.

Towering over the Clésingers, Ludwika, the priest, the Polish nobles, and the pallbearers was the angular figure of Miss Jane Stirling, a Scottish heiress, Chopin's pupil and patroness, who had supported the composer in the last year of his life. It was Stirling who had paid the bill for the funeral-five thousand pounds-of which two thousand were spent on the orchestra and chorus alone. 

In the silence ordained by the dead man, his coffin was lowered. The mourners pressed closer together for a last look. But they also seemed to close ranks, filling an empty place among them.

[saintsenara]

Do you think ronarry works better than hinny? (I do.)

thank you very much for the ask, anon!

the advantage ronarry has over hinny is that ron is a man who also has a defined character archetype both within the series as a boarding school romp and as a folkloric epic, which means that - very much unlike ginny - he is permitted to actually undergo some onscreen character development throughout the seven-book canon. ginny, in contrast, does everything which might make her interesting as a character in the background of the narrative, before turning up fully formed to serve as little more than a tool to underscore that harry's definitely super cool, hot, and fun once he's stopped being canonically short.

besides this, however, the two ships have a huge amount in common. both ron and ginny are people harry adores because they're fundamentally fun to be around - he just likes hanging out with them both and draws comfort from their presence precisely because they let him just be [unlike hermione, who likes to nag him]. both ron and ginny are also people whose relationship with him harry doesn't fully understand the complexity of - he's incredibly dismissive of ron's feelings of jealousy at having to play second fiddle to him; all of the things he does to keep ginny "safe" in the war are straightforwardly paternalistic, and he spends deathly hallows oblivious to the fact that she's, presumably, having quite a miserable time at hogwarts... ron's arc gets a resolution when harry is compelled to watch the locket-horcrux's softcore porno and finally understand what ron's been bottling up, which i do think is written really nicely in canon. the resolution of harry and ginny's relationship - like so much about them - happens offscreen, which is why I think the timeskip to happy-ever-after feels so unsatisfying canonically. but that's why we have fanfiction.

which is to say, ronarry is a hot ship - and i will defend it with my life - because it is the crucial combination of two lads having a great time, two lads having deep-and-meaningful chats after being idiots for ages, two lads having a nice cup of tea after enjoying themselves thoroughly in the bedroom, and two lads who are - canonically - the loves of each other's lives, whether you wish to interpret that as platonic or not.

[nicklloydnow]

THE ARTIST AND HIS TIME (1953)

“I. As an artist, have you chosen the role of witness?

This would take considerable presumption or a vocation I lack. Personally I don't ask for any role and I have but one real vocation. As a man, I have a preference for happiness; as an artist, it seems to me that I still have characters to bring to life without the help of wars or of law-courts. But I have been sought out, as each individual has been sought out. Artists of the past could at least keep silent in the face of tyranny. The tyrannies of today are improved; they no longer admit of silence or neutrality. One has to take a stand, be either for or against. Well, in that case, I am against.

But this does not amount to choosing the comfortable role of witness. It is merely accepting the time as it is, minding one's own business, in short. Moreover, you are forgetting that today judges, accused, and witnesses exchange positions with exemplary rapidity. My choice, if you think I am making one, would at least be never to sit on a judge's bench, or beneath it, like so many of our philosophers. Aside from that, there is no dearth of opportunities for action, in the relative. Trade-unionism is today the first, and the most fruitful among them.

II. Is not the quixotism that has been criticized in your recent works an idealistic and romantic definition of the artist's role?

However words are perverted, they provisionally keep their meaning. And it is clear to me that the romantic is the one who chooses the perpetual motion of history, the grandiose epic, and the announcement of a miraculous event at the end of time. If I have tried to define something, it is, on the contrary, simply the common existence of history and of man, everyday life with the most possible light thrown upon it, the dogged struggle against one's own degradation and that of others.

It is likewise idealism, and of the worse kind, to end up by hanging all action and all truth on a meaning of history that is not implicit in events and that, in any case, implies a mythical aim. Would it therefore be realism to take as the laws of history the future - in other words, just what is not yet history, something of whose nature we know nothing?

It seems to me, on the contrary, that I am arguing in favor of a true realism against a mythology that is both illogical and deadly, and against romantic nihilism whether it be bourgeois or allegedly revolutionary. To tell the truth, far from being romantic, I believe in the necessity of a rule and an order. I merely say that there can be no question of just any rule whatsoever. And that it would be surprising if the rule we need were given us by this disordered society, or, on the other hand, by those doctrinaires who declare themselves liberated from all rules and all scruples.

III. The Marxists and their followers likewise think they are humanists. But for them human nature will be formed in the classless society of the future.

To begin with, this proves that they reject at the present moment what we all are: those humanists are accusers of man. How can we be surprised that such a claim should have developed in the world of court trials? They reject the man of today in the name of the man of the future. That claim is religious in nature. Why should it be more justified than the one which announces the kingdom of heaven to come? In reality the end of history cannot have, within the limits of our condition, any definable significance. It can only be the object of a faith and of a new mystification. A mystification that today is no less great than the one that of old based colonial oppression on the necessity of saving the souls of infidels.

IV. Is not that what in reality separates you from the intellectuals of the left?

You mean that is what separates those intellectuals from the left? Traditionally the left has always been at war against injustice, obscurantism, and oppression. It always thought that those phenomena were interdependent. The idea that obscurantism can lead to justice, the national interest to liberty, is quite recent. The truth is that certain intellectuals of the left (not all, fortunately) are today hypnotized by force and efficacy as our intellectuals of the right were before and during the war. Their attitudes are different, but the act of resignation is the same. The first wanted to be realistic nationalists; the second want to be realistic socialists. In the end they betray nationalism and socialism alike in the name of a realism henceforth without content and adored as a pure, and illusory, technique of efficacy.

This is a temptation that can, after all, be understood. But still, however the question is looked at, the new position of the people who call themselves, or think themselves, leftists consists in saying: certain oppressions are justifiable because they follow the direction, which cannot be justified, of history. Hence there are presumably privileged executioners, and privileged by nothing. This is about what was said in another context by Joseph de Maistre, who has never been taken for an incendiary. But this is a thesis which, personally, I shall always reject. Allow me to set up against it the traditional point of view of what has been hitherto called the left: all executioners are of the same family.

V. What can the artist do in the world of today?

He is not asked either to write about co-operatives or, conversely, to lull to sleep in himself the sufferings endured by others throughout history. And since you have asked me to speak personally, I am going to do so as simply as I can. Considered as artists, we perhaps have no need to interfere in the affairs of the world. But considered as men, yes. The miner who is exploited or shot down, the slaves in the camps, those in the colonies, the legions of persecuted throughout the world - they need all those who can speak to communicate their silence and to keep in touch with them. I have not written, day after day, fighting articles and texts, I have not taken part in the common struggles because I desire the world to be covered with Greek statues and masterpieces. The man who has such a desire does exist in me. Except that he has something better to do in trying to instill life into the creatures of his imagination. But from my first articles to my latest book I have written so much, and perhaps too much, only because I cannot keep from being drawn toward everyday life, toward those, whoever they may be, who are humiliated and debased. They need to hope, and if all keep silent or if they are given a choice between two kinds of humiliation, they will be forever deprived of hope and we with them. It seems to me impossible to endure that idea, nor can he who cannot endure it lie down to sleep in his tower. Not through virtue, as you see, but through a sort of almost organic intolerance, which you feel or do not feel. Indeed, I see many who fail to feel it, but I cannot envy their sleep.

This does not mean, however, that we must sacrifice our artis's nature to some social preaching or other. I have said elsewhere why the artist was more than ever necessary. But if we intervene as men, that experience will have an effect upon our language. And if we are not artists in our language first of all, what sort of artists are we? Even if, militants in our lives, we speak in our works of deserts and of selfish love, the mere fact that our lives are militant causes a special tone of voice to people with men that desert and that love. I shall certainly not choose the moment when we are beginning to leave nihilism behind to stupidly deny the values of creation in favor of the values of humanity, or vice versa. In my mind neither one is ever separated from the other and I measure the greatness of an artist (Molière, Tolstoy, Melville) by the balance he managed to maintain between the two. Today, under the pressure of events, we are obliged to transport that tension into our lives likewise. This is why so many artists, bending under the burden, take refuge in the ivory tower or, conversely, in the social church. But as for me, I see in both choices a like act of resignation. We must simultaneously serve suffering and beauty. The long patience, the strength, the secret cunning such service calls for are the virtues that establish the very renascence we need.

One word more. This undertaking, I know, cannot be accomplished without dangers and bitterness. We must accept the dangers: the era of chairbound artists is over. But we must reject the bitterness. One of the temptations of the artist is to believe himself solitary, and in truth he hears this shouted at him with a certain base delight. But this is not true. He stands in the midst of all, in the same rank, neither higher nor lower, with all those who are working and struggling. His very vocation, in the face of oppression, is to open the prisons and to give a voice to the sorrows and joys of all. This is where art, against its enemies, justifies itself by proving precisely that it is no one's enemy. By itself art could probably not produce the renascence which implies justice and liberty. But without it, that renascence would be without forms and, consequently, would be nothing. Without culture, and the relative freedom it implies, society, even when perfect, is but a jungle. This is why any authentic creation is a gift to the future.”

[krugkorien]

Her Grace, the Mighty Duchess of the Great Duchy of Vesperite, Valeria Nerva Severina Tsorbea Aralia Vespera Constantinescu ar Morion attra Margreza-Viperata

Vesperite is the most infamous of the Seven Great Duchies of Inima Tinuturilor, all thanks to the dynasty it’s named after, Vesperas, who ruled the duchy since its foundation and forever defined it culturally and politically. Not many can brag about their dynasty being so influential and powerful — because not many are capable of such brutal, heartless scheming that allowed Vesperas to stay in power for hundreds of cycles [1].

Being a Vespera means being a cruel, power-hungry schemer in the eyes of everybody else, and if this is pretty true about Constantin Vespera, the current head of the Vespera house, a man so ambitious he had plans on elevating his family to new levels of power from the young age of seven cycles. It was a simple plan: pick a perfect wife, produce a son with her, and use the good-old Vesperan scheming to elevate that child to the status of the High King of Stenaggare, giving Vespera rule over all of Stenere people. Unfortunately for Constantin (and fortunately for all of Stenaggare) these grand plans hit multiple snags, and the only child he could produce with his wife Inglesia was a daughter, making all his plans null and void — there was no such thing as High Queens in patriarchal Stenere society.

Constantin was furious — but fury couldn’t produce a boy, and he was forced to work with what he had — maybe one day Valeria will give birth to a boy and he will get a chance for the crown. So Valeria was born into a life of strict education and relentless training meant to shape her into the most desirable wife possible, with little care for what Valeria herself wanted, and ironically, this slowly became Constantin’s undoing. She was a child whose needs and desires were ignored and no wonder she grew up into a deeply repressed adult who masked her true self not because it was simply expected of her, but because the Stenere society couldn’t face her true self. 

She was a Vespera, a child born among liars and manipulators so of course her mask was a good one, but even this mask started cracking from the earliest of ages. Knowing full well that the fact that she’s a woman outweighs her every virtue and skill, she eagerly jumped at the opportunity to exploit and abuse, lashing out on those “beneath her”, like servants and serfs. And even fellow royalty couldn’t escape her wrath, as Valeria developed quite a taste for fencing, eager to duel any woman who dared to look at her in a wrong way. And even those who pleased her had not much luck, as Constantin made sure his child wouldn't learn such foolish things as compassion and sympathy, even sometimes berating her for her bravery, because “Your bravery will be your undoing, and you have no right for death for you are a tool of my destiny and cannot die till your purpose is fulfilled”. So the closest thing to approval others could get from Valeria is her endless lust.

Since Stenere society considers women to be dangerous beasts that are only good for procreation and violence, Valeria have “chose” a military career for herself and applied to one of the most prestigious of female universities, the Gotorn’s Academy of Strategy & War History (GASWH). There she built herself quite a reputation because of aforementioned tendencies for dueling and fucking most of GASWH’s students, with the most noticeable associates being Ulyssa Gavrana and Yelena Hrabovskaya [2]. Ulyssa and Valeria were both members of a semi-illegal club, members of which were discussing the current state of Stenaggare Union, agreeing on the fact that the Union is too conservative for its own good but disagreeing on how to improve it. The debates between Ulyssa and Valeria became so heated the latter challenged the former to a duel and won — but unsatisfied with purely beating her opponent, Valeria chopped off Ulyssa’s ear and hand, forever humiliating her and establishing a bitter rivalry between the two.

After finishing her studies at GASWH, Valeria became the leading officer of the Obsidian River Garrison in the Morion region. Since she was a treasured property of Constantin, it was a somewhat prestigious but ultimately safe position that would never let Valeria in harm’s way — the worst that could happen is the local intelligentsia starting a small riot that could be easily suppressed, and all something like that would achieve is kickstart Valeria’s much promising military career. And then the Blackest March started.

All Obsidian River had is lazy daughters of barons who became knights purely for prestige and an infantry whose best battle experience was stopping drunk tavern fights. They got overrun in days, barely capable of holding the monster tide, knowing full well they will not survive till the reinforcement arrives, already seeing the ruins of Morion before their eyes — and their own graves amongst these ruins. 

When creatures of March weren’t a problem, the weather was, as if the world itself wanted to get rid of humanity, and a weeks-long thunder blizzard started, forcing survivors to find refuge in the Morion cave system even when they knew full well that creatures of March get stronger the deeper you go, as they find their strength in black aether — often found deep underground, this magic substance kills most men and grants forbidden powers to women.

So of course as Valeria was fighting the creatures who followed the survivors she fell into a deep pool of black aether. Many were ready to follow her in death yet she rose and continued to fight even when one of the daemonas unleashed some sort of magical attack upon the Valeria in its dying breath. Valeria stood, surrounded by corpses of her enemies, and led the survivors not just out of the caves, but out of Morion, leading them to safety and forever becoming known as The Morion Hero, celebrated by everyone for her bravery. Constantin was ecstatic — his daughter became a legend overnight!

You could know all the languages in the world and you would still not be able to describe Constantin’s reaction (and of many others) when that legend did not just refuse the promotion, but straight-up retired, proclaiming that the Blackest March have broken her as a person and became the head of the guard of the city of Arx. Over one night she became a hero, and over another a mystery. It made sense — the Blackest March was one of the most brutal times in the history of Mirabilis and no person survived it unscarred. Yet many felt that there was something’s up, and rumors spread of Valeria being involved in occult matters.

Vesperas were not strangers to such accusations, and by their standards Valeria was one of the least interesting examples… On the surface. She did not lie, the Blackest March did traumatize her — but it was not as much about the mass murders and undead rising as much about that daemona attack. It was not an attack — whatever it was, it possessed Valeria. Any other person would die, yet Valeria lived. Not that there were no consequences: temporary blackouts, intense pain from any kind of exposure to black aether to a degree that just laying down on ground is uncomfortable for her and worst of all, chance of turning into a daemona in case exposure is too intense.

Valeria’s personal library grew quickly with all kinds of works on daemonology, letting her learn more about her condition. At first she just wanted to learn what in the Abyss is wrong with her (and she somewhat did, learning that she’s possessed by a daemona of Wrath) but with time she got genuinely fascinated with the forbidden art of daemonology and even started practicing black arts, but just a little bit. It was a dangerous game she was playing, but at least there was something good to come out of Constantin’s teachings — Valeria could lie really, really well. And all would be good if one day her old flame Yelena didn’t end up on her doorstep…

1 — Cycles are the Divine equivalent of years (1 CL = ~4,5 Earth years), based on their equivalent of menstrual cycle, estrus since actual years (Mirabilis itself has no sun or any similar object to spin around so years are based around set of seasons) are too long to be a useful measure of time —  saying “I’m 20 years old” will make everyone get their pitchforks and stakes because you just said that you’re 6000 cycles old in a world where most people can't reach 110!

2 — For Yelena her relationship with Valeria meant much more than the other way around so we’ll save that for later.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

David Rowe

* * * *

Fuck the media explanations that Trump won because he was talking to them about the economy, because he was talking to them primarily about himself in his bizarre monologues that also covered the dick size of a dead golfer whose career peaked sixty years ago, windmills killing birds, kids coming home from school having had their gender changed maybe during recess, and a whole lot of Hannibal Lecter apparently because in the broken jelly of his brain there was some kind of association between insane asylums and refugees seeking asylum, and on top of that a lot of threats against and menace to women and anyone who opposed him, juvenile insults, and a whole thing about sharks and batteries, and a certain amount of slurring words and a whole lot of words in no particular order conveying no particular meaning, along with the promise to put the world's richest man in charge of the economy, who in turn promises to wreck it.

I get that there's a lot of economic unhappiness and real struggle, but that didn't start with the Biden Administration, which gave people pandemic relief at the beginning of its term, but Republicans wouldn't let them renew it, which is why people remember being better off four years ago. Meanwhile the Harris campaign promised to help with in-home healthcare, the cost of housing, and raising the minimum wage, and I know no one knew that any of these campaigns had content because the media was too busy rewarming frozen scandals. But also a lot of people got good green jobs from the Inflation Reduction Act and a lot of people got debt forgiveness, both Biden administration things that began as, respectively, the Sunrise Movement's Green New Deal and the debt activism that emerged from Occupy Wall Street (I've been thinking back to Occupy Wall and how it created space in 2011 for people to reveal how crushed by housing, medical, and student debt they were--Harris went after predatory housing lenders after Occupy, when she was California's attorney general.) Biden, who clearly modeled himself after FDR, was hailed in some quarters as the first non-neoliberal president since Reagan came 44 years ago to destroy the New Deal and the Great Society and make the poor poorer and the rich richer.

It is its own form of disinformation, how the mainstream media settles on explanations about what just happened and why when they happen not to be true. And we heard the same bullshit in 2016 when mostly white people voted against their own economic interest for a racist, sexist, incompetent member of the 1% and middle class people claiming to speak for the working class insisted this was all economic dissatisfaction. Trump is a puppet for forces that will make ordinary peoples' lives far harder and then they will blame Antifa or immigrants or something and the media will repeat these ridiculous allegations as though they deserve serious consideration.

One point no one should forget: abortion is an economic issue for anyone who can get pregnant. Immigrant rights are not just an economic issue for immigrants but for the whole economy, which would fall apart without them.

Brookings Institute: "The Trump campaign decided that Harris’ stance on transgender issues was the Willie Horton of 2024 and invested heavily in negative advertising that dominated the airwaves throughout the South.1 Anecdotal evidence suggests that this campaign helped weaken Harris’ effort to portray herself as a common-sense center-left candidate rather than an emissary from San Francisco."

Wired: "Trump ran a campaign that stoked culture war grievances and divisions, and was defined by lies, a desire for vengeance, and, at times, threatening rhetoric. In social media posts he threatened mass arrests of his political opponents in revenge for “stealing the election” in 2020 (though evidence conclusively shows the 2020 election was not stolen). Lawmakers, election workers, school board members, federal agents, and judges have been repeatedly targeted over the years with violent threats by his supporters who believe they were acting on his behalf. Trump repeatedly promised his supporters he would “destroy” the deep state, invoking the popular conspiracy theory of a nefarious web of faceless bureaucrats working to destroy the US from within. He cast himself, alongside the people who stormed the Capitol on January 6 over election lies, as “political prisoners,” even “hostages” who were being persecuted by a “tyrannical” Biden administration."

Robert Hubbell: "Just as the media normalized Trump before the election, there is a wholesale effort to “normalize” the election results. Pundits are claiming the election was decided by voters’ concerns over inflation, immigration, or crime. Those issues are post-facto rationalizations offered by voters to conceal their real reasons for voting for a convicted felon and adjudicated sexual abuser over an eminently qualified candidate."

Brian Merchant, tech journalist extraordinaire: "Apart from Trump himself, there are few more obvious victors that Elon Musk; for $100 million or so and a few months’ display of unrestrained fealty, he just bought himself some real estate in the inner sanctum of Trumpworld. It may be the most fruitful investment he ever made, a bargain really. ...Suffice to say that Elon Musk is the closest that a Silicon Valley tech titan has been to the White House, in a position of overt and direct power. There is of course a long lineage of the Valley linking up with Washington for defense contracts, help in avoiding regulations, and other forms of material support—see: Malcolm Harris’s Palo Alto—but this is the next level. It could even, perhaps, be considered a logical culmination. It’s time to face facts. In Trump, Silicon Valley got what it wanted: A president that will kneecap antitrust efforts, embrace deregulation, and defang labor laws."

[Rebecca Solnit]

[evilelitest2]

Russian-Ukraine War Part 4: The Birth of Russia

So Russia is big. It's like one of their defining traits, vodka, art, brutality, colonialism, communism, and being massive.  But did you know that once Russia was once…not so big?  Let's do some history.

So the Mongolian Empire was a brutal genocidal engine of conquest but if you survived the initial invasion, it wasn’t so bad by the standard of brutal imperialists, the Mongols were big on religious tolerance, cultural integration and above all trade.  So the Russians found themselves suddenly connected to Central and East Asia through their Mongol overlords, and Russia for the first time in Russian history, it is as connected to East Asia as it is to Europe.  

The Mongolian Empire was great at conquest but struggled a lot with the ruling, and it probably won’t surprise you that it broke into 4 smaller states shortly after the death of Genghis Khan, located in the Middle East, China, Mongolia and Russia Respectively.  The one that concerns us is the Golden Hoard, the Russian based Mongolian state, who were called “Tatars” by the locals. 

The Golden Hoard wasn’t an Empire that spent most of their time breathing down your neck and setting major policies in their capital, instead they ruled indirectly via tributary states.  They would basically allow your kingdom to exist and kinda do its own thing as long as you paid your taxes, and one special boy kingdom was allowed the honor of collecting the taxes.  The special boy of our story is the Grand Duchy of Moscow, which will overtime be upgraded to the Principality of Moscow, to the Grand Principality of Moscow as they steadily get more and more powerful, using the privileges they got as the Mongol’s special boys to eventually grow their military and economy. 

Eventually they were able to push back the Mongols (assisted by the Golden Hordes constant civil wars), and by the time of Ivan the III aka Ivan the Great, the state was independent and a massive nation. Ivan III is kinda seen as the first independent Ruler of Russia, where Russia exists in its own right and not just as a Mongolian Tributary state.   Ivan’s grandson, Ivan the IV, aka Ivan the Vasilyevich, aka Ivan Grozny, aka Ivan the Terrible eventually decided that the Title of Grand Prince wasn’t quite good enough and so it was he who formally turned the state into an Empire, giving himself the title of Tsar, after brutally conquering all the people around him.  And so the Russian Empire was born between Ivan the Great and Ivan the Terrible, go figure.

(Ivan the Terrible, Very stable man)

So Ok, Russia is an independent Empire, but under Ivan the IV it becomes more than that, it becomes the Orthodox State.   Let me walk back a bit.  Christianity first super huge split was in 1054, where the Eastern Greek Speaking Orthodox Church broke apart from the Western Latin Speaking Roman Catholic Church.  The Catholics have the Pope, who manage to establish himself as a religious power greater than even Kings, while the east had the Patriarch, whose power was limited by the Emperor?  What Emperor you say?  Well time to talk about the Byzantine Emperor 

Patriarch (left) Pope (right)

So the Byzantines are the dominant supreme cultural power of the East right?  Well by the time of the Mongols, not so much.  The great city of Constantinople was sacked in 1204 by the 4th Crusade, in one of the greatest own goals in history, and the Empire was in a state of decline ever since.  And I mean actual decline, not Edward Gibbon (your decline is almost a thousand years) decline, which was pretty upsetting for the Rus, the other great Orthodox power (Ok I see you Bulgaria and Romania, you’ll get your own episodes another time calm down), and as Byzantine declined, Muscovy keep taking on more and more of the role as “big Orthodox power of the east”.  But the striking blow came when Constantinople fell in 1453 to the Ottoman Empire under Mehmed the II aka Mehmed the Conqueror, bringing a final end to the Byzantine empire…ok there were a few splinter states but Mehmet gets them 20 years later so once and for all Byzantines are gone.

(Mehmet II preparing to destroy Byzantinium)

SO I cannot empathizes enough how much of a blow this is to the Orthidox World. The Byzantine Empire was THE Orthidox power for over a thousand years, it was the center of the Orthidox world.Consantinople had been the center of the Orthodox church since Constantine himself, it's like Rome turning Muslim or Mecca Christian, like this is a theological crisis.  However, the Grand Principality of Moscow was eager to take on the role of center of the Orthodox Church, and Ivan the Great started to call Moscow “The Third Rome” to succeed the Byzantines as the Byzantines had “succeed” the Romans (despite being Roman…look i never said it is smart).  This is why Russia’s coat of Arms is the two headed eagle of the Byzantines.  His grandson Ivan Grozny unified the Principality into a strong centralized autocratic state through the power of brutal oppression and secret police, creating the Russian Empire.  Later the Patriarch would relocate there, effectively the closest thing to the head of the Orthodox church, making Moscow the new center of the Orthodox faith.

As the "Third Rome" Russia wasn't just an Empire, it had a divine mandate to take territory and spread the Orthidox Faith. The notion of this Russian style Manifest Destiny is going to come up again in this series, and it has never completely left the Russian National identiy.

Ivan took the title of Tsar which means Caesar as in Emperor.  As an Empire rather than a Principality, the “Divine Mandate” of Russia became to serve as the protector of the Orthodox Church, to reunify the old Kievan Rus, and restore Constantinople.  Like most empires, including the Mongol, the Russian Empire is based on the notion that they have a divine right to rule over everybody else. This dream was put aside for the Time of Troubles, a civil war so horrific that it makes Game of Thrones look peaceful, but after that confusion Russia was ready to go (this is where the Royal family goes from Ruik to Romanov) This is not going to be an extensive look at all of Tsarist Russia, just the stuff which I think is important to understand for Ukraine.  Colonization, the Tsar and Serfdom.

[dailydemonspotlight]

Day 99

THE SEAL HAS BROKEN

Pestilence - Famine - Death - War

Race: Fiend/Fiend/Fiend/Fiend

Arcana: Chariot/Tower/Judgement/Death

Alignment: Neutral/Neutral/Neutral/Neutral

When the end comes, so does its harbingers. The classical mythological idea of a Horseman has been present for centuries, even before Christianity had become as widespread, but the association of said horsemen with bringing something is linked primarily with none other than the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, a biblical set of riders who brought about different aspects of the end. While they’re mostly mentioned offhand in, you guessed it, the Book of Revelation, each of the Horsemen themselves have separate roles that are well defined yet obscure at the same time, if that makes sense. Each of them are a forewarning of God’s final judgment, released as the first four seals (essentially being, from what I can tell, societal ills?) are broken.

From my understanding, the four angels alluded to in the sixth trumpet of the Apocalypse may also be in reference to the Horsemen, though this is based mostly on my own interpretation- hence why I held off on explaining the last two trumpets in my Trumpeter analysis. However, given their release via the seven seals, the Horsemen are far more a representation of the ills of man and how they will bring about its own downfall. Without any further ado, let’s get into this. 

White Rider 

Race: Fiend

Arcana: Chariot

Alignment: Neutral

"Now I saw when the Lamb opened one of the seals; and I heard one of the four living creatures saying with a voice like thunder, 'Come and see.' And I looked, and behold, a white horse. He who sat on it had a bow; and a crown was given to him, and he went out conquering and to conquer."

The first of the four Horsemen described in Revelation, the White Rider, given the alternating names of both Conquest and Pestilence, appears to represent and bring the spread of ill. The White Rider is a bit of a strange place to lead off, as the vague nature in which he appears in Revelation leads to a lot of debate as to his role- some argue he may represent the Antichrist, conquering and spreading the word of hate and sin, though others argue he represents Christ, spreading good word and generally being far less antagonistic. However, the first interpretation of him as the Antichrist is contradicted by the fact that, generally, it’s understood that the sixth seal's breaking is what brings about the Antichrist, and obviously, it’s a bit hard to appear in both the first and second-to-last seal. 

This leads to the second concept of the White Rider, one whose origin I’m actually unsure of, but is perpetrated commonly throughout society. As first cited in the Jewish Encyclopedia in 1906, though there may be even earlier sources, the White Rider may also represent Pestilence. Some translations of the Bible speak of a plague in the passage- to quote,

“[The Horsemen were permitted] to kill with sword and with famine and with pestilence and by wild beasts of the earth.”

This, on top of the fact that Conquest has a lot of similarity to War, leads to a general idea of the white rider being representative of a plague, or something similar, that spreads and permeates throughout society. In SMT, the design is quite literal, taken directly from the passage above describing the rider, being a crowned skeleton atop a white horse wielding a bow. I'm unsure as to where the eyes on the horse come from, but they do add a rather unique spin to the design, so I'm not complaining at all.

Red Rider 

Race: Fiend

Arcana: Tower

Alignment: Neutral

"When He broke the second seal, I heard the second living creature saying, “Come.” And another, a red horse, went out; and to him who sat on it, it was granted to take peace from the earth, and that men would slay one another; and a great sword was given to him."

The second Horseman described in Revelation has a far less ambiguous meaning in almost every translation- the red, the blade held high, and the given purpose of taking peace all speaks to the Red Rider representing and bringing nothing other than War. 

Curiously, the blade held up was actually a common statement of the intent to battle, specifically in the form of crossed blades held high. The Red Rider may also represent conflict in general, such as infighting- it’s typically observed that, in contrast to Conquest being a horseman who represents overtaking other places, the Red Rider represents things such as civil war and battles between former allies. 

In design in SMT, the Red Rider, much like his former, is a spot-on interpretation, though I do wish the blade was colored red- several paintings and analyses of the demon present the blade to be red, representing the blood shed from it and war as a whole- though that’s a bit of a moot point, as it’s a rather minor detail. Besides, the way the sword is always held in the air is a really nice touch that makes up for that. 

Black Rider 

Race: Fiend

Arcana: Judgement

Alignment: Neutral

"When He broke the third seal, I heard the third living creature saying, “Come.” I looked, and behold, a black horse; and he who sat on it had a pair of scales in his hand. And I heard something like a voice in the center of the four living creatures saying, “A quart of wheat for a denarius, and three quarts of barley for a denarius; but do not damage the oil and the wine."

The third horseman, the Black Rider, is a particularly interesting one whose meaning is generally understood but still has a lot to it to dig into. The Black Rider represents hunger, but it represents far more than that as well- it represents greed, incredulity, and inequality all at once. As a result of the Red Rider’s ravaging of war, food prices likely skyrocket, and the scale that the Black Rider carries is something that would only be carried in a desperate time, after all- that time being a Famine. 

Given the order to destroy and break apart all food, though not to destroy oil and wine, foodstuffs that were notably uncommon and often luxurious at the time, the Black Rider is a facilitator of the rich sitting on their excess while the poor starve and suffer. 

The denarius noted in the passage above was a Roman coin that was worth ten asses (hold your laughter), and was a form of currency that would often only be attainable with a full day’s work. The fact that something as simple as barley would essentially cost hundreds of dollars in today’s money is no coincidence- again, the Black Rider, above all, seemed to represent inequality as much as it did famine. 

A rich person wouldn’t have to care about those fees, while a poor one would starve, inevitably leading also to those in the armies who were participating in the war brought about by the Red Rider becoming weak, if not starving outright, causing the battle to grow shorter and even more violent. Ironically, the scale held by the Horseman also is meant to represent equality and justice, something that the Rider himself stands in stark opposition to- in a way, the scale may be a case of cruel irony for those suffering from hunger and famine. 

Curiously, the Black Rider is the only of the Four Horsemen in SMT to not be associated with the Death arcana in any of the games, instead being associated with Tower and Judgement almost exclusively. Past that, though, he’s represented perfectly, as with the rest of the Horsemen, being a skeletal (literally, due to being a fiend), robed figure atop a black horse holding a scale. However, what all of the horsemen have in common, what they all bring, is all represented with the final horseman, released upon the breaking of the fourth seal. 

Pale Rider

Race: Fiend

Arcana: Death

Alignment: Neutral

"When the Lamb broke the fourth seal, I heard the voice of the fourth living creature saying, “Come.” I looked, and behold, an ashen horse; and he who sat on it had the name Death; and Hades was following with him.”

The final Horseman of the Apocalypse, and the very embodiment of death itself, the Pale Rider is possibly the most iconic of the bunch, pulling dual roles as a horseman and none other than the Grim Reaper, at least according to a lot of interpretations of the latter figure. However, in contrast to the generally positive, if mysterious connotation that belies the Grim Reaper, the Fourth Horseman is portrayed as anything but positive. Followed by hell itself, portrayed as Hades, the Pale Rider is by far the most dangerous of all the horsemen, being an embodiment and bringer of Death. 

As the only horseman explicitly named of the bunch, the nuance of the horsemen’s titles is gone, replaced by a simple concept- that of the end. Death is both the harbinger and the apocalypse itself, and atop his pale horse, he brings about the inevitable end of all. The coloration of his horse being a pale white may possibly be in reference to the color of a corpse, and some interpretations even make it so the horse he rides is blighted, or marked with signs of decomposition. 

In the original Greek, interestingly enough, the name given to Death is that of Thanatos, drawing a connection between the horseman and the Greek god of the dead. Of course, this may just be due to Thanatos being the Greek name for death, but regardless, it’s a curious bit that slipped in. 

In SMT, his design is quite simple, yet another depiction that’s very close to the source material, though interestingly, he’s never said to be carrying a sickle in the Bible- likely, the reason for his scythe is to tie him closer to the Grim Reaper, as said above. 

Overall, though, the four horsemen each represent different aspects of the apocalypse, and their release upon the seals being broken is no coincidence. After all, their coming almost always means the end is near.

Or, perhaps, a new beginning. 

See you all tomorrow. :)

[ladylyra]

haii, im one of the anons that's always asking u to talk about your ocs. ive noticed you posting more recently with ocs tagged something like "uni 1" and i was wondering if you could talk a little about that universe and what it's all about (and maybe some of the characters from it if you want!!) also tysm for always indulging me, all your replies are a treat to read and the stuff you write is really cool! ok bye!

there's no way to be succinct about this therefore i'll ramble THANKS FOR ASKING!!!!!!

theres four main dimensions: heaven, hell, earth, and the spirit world. the spirit world is connected to the earth, and it is able to exude an influence on areas where the barrier between the two is weak enough. in these weak areas, where influence is particularly strong, you can see anomalies such as humans born with supernatural talents: for instance, luca, along with his mother's half of the family, are able to see and talk to ghosts. there's also taylor, whose family secret is being (cool) werewolves, and henrietta being a vampire (she was turned by some entity from the spirit world). given the rarity of these occurrences, however, there isn't any widespread, consensus belief in the supernatural (definitely a lot of speculation tho, a little more than irl)

heaven is home to angels. while there is some inspiration taken from traditional stories, these are not christian angels. they are an ancient, dragonic species said to have been created by an unnamed cosmic entity. as legends go, they were once pure dragons without free will, designed as playthings by their creator before eventually being shaped into the image and character of man; humanity, having evolved organically in a universe hostile to life, was said to have moved the entity and inspired it to change its own creation. no present-day angels live from this era of their supposed history, but the idolization and fixation on humanity remains a tenant of their society.

while long-lived, war and disease is able to kill angels. death is hard, but not impossible. the biggest war that occurred, one that killed a lot of angels, was the angelic-demonic war, otherwise known as the war of heaven and hell.

heaven is isolated from the rest of the dimensions, exclusionary as a matter of policy. interloping with the spirit world, human world, and, eventually, once it was created, demon world, is frowned upon. tensions began to grow in heaven as more and more angels began to interact with spirits, trading their own powers with those from spirits, altering their appearances and abilities. while initially punished and isolated within heaven as a deterrent, eventually numbers of these "deviants" grew so great that a war erupted. it concluded with the creation of hell, and the mass exodus of demons.

demons may be defined by their origins but they have no consistent set of abilities--some are long-lived, some are short-lived, some are succubi, others are descended from kelpies, and so on. it is so hard to consistently label them that they are often mistaken for spirits; most are very far removed from their angelic roots, with few having been alive during the war, but there exist some. one of my demons, yilmaz, was alive for it, and if i were to use him as an example: he made a deal with a grim reaper, barn, to acquire the abilities of a reaper himself (he had his reasons), and you can see this in his bird-like appearance and scythe tail.

hell has a large human energy economy, with it as a primary import--that is, many feed off humans for their main source energy, although not exclusively. some feed off of spirits, others on other demons, and some eat synthesized alternatives and food. it just varies on the type of demon. angels don't rely on humans in the same way, but have come to view themselves as the maintainers of their world's barriers--that is, they ensure that demons, spirits, and even angels aren't haphazardly revealing themselves or harming humans. while their society remains exclusionary, they have undertaken diplomatic relationships with specific sectors and "industries" of the spirit world, such as death; for instance, while most human spirits will cross over themselves with time, or immediately, some linger and cause problems. spirit guides, such as zacharias, help cross over wayward spirits. he is on earth a lot, but is most often incorporeal like the spirits he deals with (but he sometimes takes up a tangible human form). this means he is constantly making run-ins with grim reapers, who he cooperates and works with. however, "intermingling" is still frowned upon. as a side note, zacharias himself is somewhat of an outcast and doesn't agree w basically most of angel laws so yeah.

anyways, the spirit world is pretty much a sandbox of any folklore or legend you can think of. its a big place with different districts, not limited to any one cultural inspiration. because there's no limits i've ended up with a pretty bloated cast but i love them all :). some of my spirit characters have human alternate designs that they use when on earth because they're not allowed to appear otherwise. some characters, like mitsuki and yue, lived on earth in their true forms before rules were so strict and their presence wasn't a risk to their safety but those days r long gone. they all kinda coalesce in one location in the human world, in a specific college town, so most of my human or human-passing characters are either students or faculty or have some other reason to be there.

when the universe was originally conceived, a lot of attention was focused on this college setting and interactions between evanora, my one normal human character, and everyone else, but the project has evolved beyond the scope of her and i wouldnt even describe her as the main character anymore, the universe has become more like a larger collection of separate, sometimes interwoven stories i zoom in and out on. i don't have any particular, big ambitions for the universe but it is funny to think that i've been working on this since like...2018-ish and i'm happy to share with everyone!!!

[tegarrianlore]

Freia the Eternal

Freia the Eternal, the goddess that defined an era and the world to come.

Ruling for a hundred millennia, Freia was born out of the desperation of mortalkind.

To understand Freia, one has to understand how gods function in this world. Infinite in nature, each god is a manifestation of a concept or set of concepts and ideas. There can be extensive overlap between certain deities - the Archons rule seven elements of nature that also have had other gods throughout history. Certain gods can rise in reach and power, and the strongest among them ascend to a greate classification: a Greater God. There have only been four Greater Gods in the Tegarrian Lore. Irkathame the Scion-keeper, an ancient deity of a now-exctint species of octopus-like beings that ruled most of the galaxy millions of years ago; Adam El Asem the First Man, who created all of mankind and whose mistakes led directly to the birth of Freia; and Freia the Eternal, whose original purpose became buried under an epoch of corruption. The fourth god deserves a whole another post, so I won't mention her.

Freia began life as a minor deity, travelling across the world to help mortals with tasks they could not accomplish by themselves. These tasks were usually the vanquishing of monsters and other threats. She became the Goddess of many things. Goddess of Hope, of War. Of Love and Lust, of Crops and Famine, of Gold and Wealth, of Magic and the Afterlife (just like the irl Freyja), etc. All those concepts she still represents, even after her death.

However, Freia was born in the shadows of a devastating collapse of civilization. When Adam El Asem's million-year-long Empire came to a close, the very foundations of the world were left in shambles. A war among the Gods themselves raged across the universe, the devastation still felt well into the modern day, 400,000 years after the fact.

After the fact, a huge power vacuum was left open for anyone to grab. A certain Demon Ofnir and his Kingdom of Blood almost conquered half of the world; the Queendom of Sarthes Azura and her two patron deities provided a semblance of order after the First Rapture. An object, an Artifact of Creation was left unused. The Ring of Life, spread over multiples Runes that control all things living, dead, in-between and beyond. This was up for grabs, and Freia quickly began wielding it.

However, the Ring of Life was all but a trap, for a higher being - the Powers That Be - had corrupted it eons before.

Freia with her daughter Promethea, the Angel of Death

The influence of the Powers That Be was strong. Freia grew distant.

Twenty sons she had with the last of the Fae gods; Dewuulf, the God of the Wild Hunt. Of these, the first of them became corrupted by It as well and had to be excised from history all-together. After this, a certain madness claimed Freia's mind. Of her original twenty or so sons and daughters, history only remembers seven of them: Promethea, the Angel of Death, was her Executioner. Godranni, the Weaver of Fate, was her oracle into the future. Aasir, the Red Khan, was her brute-force solution to any problems. Maistorm, the King of the Under-realms, was the only one allowed to perform necromancy. Ulaatan Castellan, the Hammer of Justice, was her perfect general. Kaedriel Mallacht, the Nightbringer, was her soon-to-be successor. Indoral Addarach, the Clockwork Disciple, was the brightest mind allowed to exist. Everyone else would be forgotten by History all-together.

Ms. Adalgard Lund, Emergency Director of the Dämmerung Foundation.

Freia's Golden Empire would soon crumble too. Driven to insanity by the whispers of the Powers That Be, she would end up shattering the Ring of Life itself. This brought an unpredecented age upon the entire Tree of Life - to the entire multiverse. An Age of Undeath.

The Goldenborn beckon for a bright future, but that will not be possible. Of thee, only seven will exist.

Faylane, you the Eternal Muse of Mankind, loved and wanted by all mortals, your presence must come to a stop. Ihnaros, the King of Sands, you have helped the Nightlord settle her lands and establish her rule, and for that I am eternally grateful; for she will forget you. Oljme, Prince of the Hunt, you who enjoy slaying beasts and protecting the wildlife, I must vanish thee. You will join your brother of whom you hold no memories, Audwynn, in eternal un-existence. To fight the war within, I must not falter, ye Forsaken Demigods, for all of Reality depends on it.

READING RELATED TO FREIA THE ETERNAL:

DCA-6000 - The Leytree of Freia the Eternal

DCA-001 - Dr. Elrod's Proposal - The War in Heaven

DCA-5031 - The World Serpent

[partisan-by-default]

Rebecca Solnit / Facebook:

Fuck the media explanations that Trump won because he was talking to them about the economy, because he was talking to them primarily about himself in his bizarre monologues that also covered the dick size of a dead golfer whose career peaked sixty years ago, windmills killing birds, kids coming home from school having had their gender changed maybe during recess, and a whole lot of Hannibal Lecter apparently because in the broken jelly of his brain there was some kind of association between insane asylums and refugees seeking asylum, and on top of that a lot of threats against and menace to women and anyone who opposed him, juvenile insults, and a whole thing about sharks and batteries, and a certain amount of slurring words and a whole lot of words in no particular order conveying no particular meaning, along with the promise to put the world's richest man in charge of the economy, who in turn promises to wreck it.

I get that there's a lot of economic unhappiness and real struggle, but that didn't start with the Biden Administration, which gave people pandemic relief at the beginning of its term, but Republicans wouldn't let them renew it, which is why people remember being better off four years ago. Meanwhile the Harris campaign promised to help with in-home healthcare, the cost of housing, and raising the minimum wage, and I know no one knew that any of these campaigns had content because the media was too busy rewarming frozen scandals. But also a lot of people got good green jobs from the Inflation Reduction Act and a lot of people got debt forgiveness, both Biden administration things that began as, respectively, the Sunrise Movement's Green New Deal and the debt activism that emerged from Occupy Wall Street (I've been thinking back to Occupy Wall and how it created space in 2011 for people to reveal how crushed by housing, medical, and student debt they were--Harris went after predatory housing lenders after Occupy, when she was California's attorney general.) Biden, who clearly modeled himself after FDR, was hailed in some quarters as the first non-neoliberal president since Reagan came 44 years ago to destroy the New Deal and the Great Society and make the poor poorer and the rich richer.

It is its own form of disinformation, how the mainstream media settles on explanations about what just happened and why when they happen not to be true. And we heard the same bullshit in 2016 when mostly white people voted against their own economic interest for a racist, sexist, incompetent member of the 1% and middle class people claiming to speak for the working class insisted this was all economic dissatisfaction. Trump is a puppet for forces that will make ordinary peoples' lives far harder and then they will blame Antifa or immigrants or something and the media will repeat these ridiculous allegations as though they deserve serious consideration.

One point no one should forget: abortion is an economic issue for anyone who can get pregnant. Immigrant rights are not just an economic issue for immigrants but for the whole economy, which would fall apart without them.

Brookings Institute: "The Trump campaign decided that Harris’ stance on transgender issues was the Willie Horton of 2024 and invested heavily in negative advertising that dominated the airwaves throughout the South.1 Anecdotal evidence suggests that this campaign helped weaken Harris’ effort to portray herself as a common-sense center-left candidate rather than an emissary from San Francisco."

Wired: "Trump ran a campaign that stoked culture war grievances and divisions, and was defined by lies, a desire for vengeance, and, at times, threatening rhetoric. In social media posts he threatened mass arrests of his political opponents in revenge for “stealing the election” in 2020 (though evidence conclusively shows the 2020 election was not stolen). Lawmakers, election workers, school board members, federal agents, and judges have been repeatedly targeted over the years with violent threats by his supporters who believe they were acting on his behalf. Trump repeatedly promised his supporters he would “destroy” the deep state, invoking the popular conspiracy theory of a nefarious web of faceless bureaucrats working to destroy the US from within. He cast himself, alongside the people who stormed the Capitol on January 6 over election lies, as “political prisoners,” even “hostages” who were being persecuted by a “tyrannical” Biden administration."

Robert Hubbell: "Just as the media normalized Trump before the election, there is a wholesale effort to “normalize” the election results. Pundits are claiming the election was decided by voters’ concerns over inflation, immigration, or crime. Those issues are post-facto rationalizations offered by voters to conceal their real reasons for voting for a convicted felon and adjudicated sexual abuser over an eminently qualified candidate."

Brian Merchant, tech journalist extraordinaire: "Apart from Trump himself, there are few more obvious victors that Elon Musk; for $100 million or so and a few months’ display of unrestrained fealty, he just bought himself some real estate in the inner sanctum of Trumpworld. It may be the most fruitful investment he ever made, a bargain really. ...Suffice to say that Elon Musk is the closest that a Silicon Valley tech titan has been to the White House, in a position of overt and direct power. There is of course a long lineage of the Valley linking up with Washington for defense contracts, help in avoiding regulations, and other forms of material support—see: Malcolm Harris’s Palo Alto—but this is the next level. It could even, perhaps, be considered a logical culmination. It’s time to face facts. In Trump, Silicon Valley got what it wanted: A president that will kneecap antitrust efforts, embrace deregulation, and defang labor laws."

[secret-diary-of-an-fa]

Doctor Who: BOOM! Review. Let the Healing Begin!

While the Doctor became Ncuti Gatwa way back in The Giggle, Ncuti Gatwa only became the Doctor with the Saturday-night debut of this episode. The actor’s abilities have, up until this point, been more or less a matter of faith and guesswork, since the material he’s had to work with hasn’t given him the chance to shine. In Boom, however, he’s finally given the opportunity to make the role of the Doctor his own and he fucking nails it. We see the rage and intellect and compassion of a Time Lord for the first time since Gatwa got the gig and it was, I have to admit, well worth the wait.

Right, then. The premise: The Doctor and Ruby arrive in a futuristic war-zone and the Doctor, rushing to help an injured man, steps on a landmine. It’s a single, easy-to-make mistake that defines the whole episode. The landmine works by turning the person on it into an explosive using a DNA-level chain-reaction. The Doctor, however, is a Time Lord, so if he blows up, he’ll take the whole planet with him. Thus begins Doctor Who’s answer to cult horror classic Landmine Goes Click (but with sci-fi taser murder instead ofrural French farmhands committing al fresco sex crimes). Now, this is companion Ruby Sunday’s first time on an alien planet and her grasp of the tech and stakes just isn’t quite there yet, so she gets to be brave and loyal and insightful, but only up to a plausible limit. The fact she didn’t step on a landmine doesn’t make her a convenient ex machina figure. Before long, the landmine is also surrounded by a couple of soldiers, a child looking for her father in the war-torn wasteland, a hologram of said father (who is, like, super dead by this point) and a for-profit AI ‘ambulance’ that can and will kill anyone whose treatment would be prohibitively expensive. And absolutely none of them are listening to the Doctor as he tries to explain what will happen if the landmine goes off with him standing on it. I won’t spoil the ending, but we get to see the Doctor at his best here: trapped in an impossible situation and a de-facto prison cell the exact size of his own body (he can’t even move without triggering the explosion), yet clearly the only person who can defuse the situation. We see him calculate the planet’s gravity in order to shift his mass and allow himself some movement. We see him gradually persuade those around him of the importance of not setting off the world-ending fucking landmine. We see him fighting the impersonal algorithm of the ‘ambulance’ in a way that I’m categorically not going to reveal and the trenchant stupidity of the military-minded berks around him at the same time. It’s great.

Of course, all this would be show-offy, cerebral cleverness devoid of substance if the episode didn’t pivot on a compelling theme that serves to incite great emotion in its protagonists. To whit, Boom! is about the evils of capitalism. Yeah, it’s not exactly an original sentiment that arms dealers are the scum of the Earth (or universe) but the thought has rarely been expressed so viscerally, nor linked so directly to the logics of capitalist economics themselves. See, the landmine was supplied by a company that sells to all sides in all conflicts. The ambulance and weapons were supplied by the same. And the horror isn’t just that someone is profiting from war: it’s that all of these pieces of tech are part of the same system. A system that is specifically designed to kill people at just the right rate to keep them invested in the war and keep them buying new products. The guns and bombs and mines and field ambulances don’t serve the people using them. They serve the bottom line of a faceless, remote company that regards people as part of a fiscal equation: disposable and expendable so long as they turn a profit. The Doctor gets a little speech about it, and its here we get to see the rage and pain of a man who has seen more war and suffering than anyone else in the universe. I’m normally against straight-to-camera speeches, since they’re basically the writer of an episode or film beating the audience over the head with their own personal viewpoint rather than leading them to it organically, but here it’s completely in character, beautifully acted and justified by context. Yes, the Doctor is talking to us, but in-universe, he’s talking to Ruby, and the questions she’s asking, coupled to the extremity of his plight, would provoke a bit of a rant. Also, the speech itself shows more joined-up thinking than most straight-to-camera mouth-blarts. This isn’t a right-on, smash-the-[insert-oppressor-class] woo-hoo moment. This is a meticulously laid-out, carefully extrapolated explanation of evil that dares to look at the way it functions on the wider, systemic level instead of just picking a group of perceived perpetrators and yelling about how rubbish they are. It’s a hard-left message which will probably turn off a few viewers, but it’s proper hard-left, not fucking Hollywood-style, boneless wokeness. It’s true, and important and dark and bitter and, for once, as a dyed-in-the-wool lefty, I’m happy to say that ‘yes, this man does represent us’.

Boom!’s hard-left leanings are also a necessary bit of course-correction for a show that’s always had those implications but which has strayed away from them recent years in favour of insipid bandwagon-jumping. Let me take you back, gentle reader, to the loathed and despicable Chibnall/Whitaker era of Doctor Who. There were a lot- and I mean a lot- of bad episodes during Chris Chibnall’s time as showrunner. In fact, there was rarely a good one. But the episode that made the whole run completely irredeemable in my eyes (as my regular readers can probably guess) was Kerblam!, the episode in which Whitaker’s ‘Doctor’ (a title she never really earned, hence the Inverted Commas of +10 Sarcasm) discovered a giant mega-corporation exploiting its workers and sided with that corporation over the freedom-fighter trying to blow it up. It was morally fucking disgusting, and revealed Chibnall for the rancid little Corpo-Tory fucksponge he is. Now, what’s a synonym for Kerblam! (with an exclamation point)? Answer: Boom! (also with an exclamation point)! Both episodes are about capitalism; both have the Doctor making explicit commentary on the system itself; both- just in case you missed the massively on-the-nose parallels- have titles that denote an explosion appended with a certain piece of well-known punctuation. Boom! isn’t just a very good episode of Doctor Who: it’s an address to the fans of the show. It’s disowning, in no uncertain terms, the ideology of the Chibnall era. For in-universe purposes, it’s saying “These slimy, pro-corporate, pro-exploitation views were confined to the Thirteenth Doctor. She doesn’t speak for any other regeneration.” Fuck, BBC. What are you going to do for an encore? Show up at my house with a letter of apology and a free sex robot that both me and my wife can enjoy? It’s interesting, of course, that Boom! wasn’t written by showrunner Russel T. Davies but by fellow Who alumni Steven Moffat. Now, Moffat’s tenure as showrunner back in the day was divisive in its own way, of course, but it’s nice to see that the man still has balls the size of fucking Jupiter. He might as well have called episode “Fuck You, Chris” and had done with it. Guess we know who wears the trousers in the Davies/Moffat Odd Couple Household that I just involuntarily and reflexively imagined (complete with theme-tune).

Don’t get me wrong, Boom! is not a perfect episode. Even confining ourselves to the current era, It’s not as fun as The Giggle or as conceptually interesting as Wild Blue Yonder, but it is a sign that the show is finally hitting its stride. It’s a lean, claustrophobic no-bullshit episode free of unnecessary cameos, gratuitous musical numbers and over-the-top Disney-esque villains. Happy ending aside, it’s brutal and vicious and doesn’t fuck about for one gosh-darned minute. More of this, please.

[cathumanwarriors]

AU Plans for Rock, Midnight, and Half Moon

I've expanded upon Midnight and Rock being a thing in the Warriors universe when their roles aren't clearly defined. I have a really cool idea for why they exist and what role Half Moon has to play as the first Stoneteller.

The first piece of information being that Midnight, while not immortal, has existed since ancient Sumer and was worshiped as a goddess for her staggering height. She was bestowed the power by a figure to see all that was happening all at once in the present, and became known as the goddess Mulanadiri. She is the eldest of her, Rock, and Half Moon. She also goes by other names. Some called her Inanna, goddess of love, fertility, and war. Millennium later, others called her Gaia. The Sisters know her as the Great Mother. She is the originator of this AU specific trait called the "Amazon gene", that increases physical height and muscle density in people with XX chromosomes.

Rock was born in ancient Egypt some time during the Early Dynastic Period as an Egyptian peasant who one day got lost in the desert. He was found by a strange man who led him to an expanse of tunnels to take shelter in. When he finally left those tunnels and returned home, he discovered that his family was dead and entire centuries had passed yet he remained untouched by time. He discovered he had the power to see the future, and his body would not age. He tried to stop the futures he saw in his visions, yet it was futile. He could only soften the blows, not fully stop them from happening. He became disillusioned, tired, resigned to his fate, and his body strained with the trauma etched into his body. He became diminished and less than human, a living corpse plagued by visions that spoke of endless destruction. He was known by many names, each mostly retaining the same meaning. Fallen Leaves knew him as Stein. Jayfeather knew him as Peter. Millennium ago, some called him Osiris, for how he guided the dead to their afterlives. 

Finally, there is Half Moon, the baby of the bunch. Born 800 A.D., she was a normal Scandinavian girl born into the group we called the Ancients that had split off 200 years ago to form a new religious community. She loved a boy called Jay’s Wing, but after he emerged from his trial to become a man, he had changed. He uprooted her entire way of life and cast the final stone to leave their home. He appeared 6 years later to name her the leader of their community, the first Steinsjóna (Stoneseer), then vanished forever. He revealed he was not Jay’s Wing, but Jayfeather, having been born a millennium later to a world on the verge of destruction. She would become her people’s leader, and after her death, their goddess. Jayfeather gave her the power to know all the history of the past and see beyond the physical into people’s minds. She can read the history held in a person's mind, all their past thoughts and memories.

With frightening clarity, she realized that he had condemned her to become a concept, an abstraction, for the sake of the world. Half Moon as she was known in life was erased, and all that remained was the Goddess, whose people did great good and great evil in her name. She was known as Freydis the Half Moon, Freydis the High Priestess. The ancients, who would become the Guild of Endless Waters, were once known as the Sect of Freydis. 

Since that moment Jayfeather appeared, everything was set into motion. Half Moon was able to walk through dreams to find Midnight, who was able to discover in the world where Rock sequestered himself. With their powers, they realized what needed to be done in order for Earth to survive. The Three must come to pass.

Moth Flight had to become the first High Healer, in order for her to give birth to Blue Whisker, Bubbling Stream, Spider Paw, and Honey Pelt. Blue Whisker would become the direct ancestor to Mistmouse, mother of Stagleap, grandfather to Ashfoot, grandmother to Hollyleaf, Lionblaze, and Jayfeather.

And in order for Moth Flight to exist as she was, the world had to become much more small than it was. So Half Moon set into motion a butterfly effect that led to migration across the world much earlier than it did in our real world. Wind Runner would have to see opportunity at moving to the new world, and she would have to give birth to Moth Flight.

Goosefeather had been given his visions from Rock in order for him to plant the seeds in Bluestar for her to ascend to become leader, and so Firestar could join the Clans. The plan was to have Lionblaze, Jayfeather, and Dovewing be born to the same mother, but a wrench was thrown in the plan. Hollyleaf, uh, is not supposed to exist.

The Three come to realize that they were the ones who gave Midnight, Rock, and Half Moon their powers, and that their powers are far stronger than they realized. In order to save the world, they must go back in time to make a stable time loop that leads to their existences, and unlock their powers' full potential.

Dovewing was the one who gave Midnight her powers. Lionblaze is the one that gave Rock his. And Jayfeather was the one responsible for giving Half Moon her powers. 

Lionblaze's power isn't to be hurt in battle, it's the ability to predict time. He can't be hurt because he knows all the moves that will happen nanoseconds before they happen intuitively. With his powers fully unlocked, he could stop aging, see into the future, and always know what is going to happen before it happens. He embodies the concept of Future.

Dovewing's full power goes beyond the ability to see and hear great distances, it is the ability to feel and experience everything in the present. She can transcend space into the spiritual realm, and become the very essence of the world itself. She embodies the concept of Present.

Dovewing must travel back in time to create a stable time loop that leads to her birth by planting the seeds in Cloudpaw's mind to stay a warrior, when in the future Lionblaze saw he stayed a Clan outsider. This leads to Whitewing, who gives birth to Dovewing and Ivypool.

Jayfeather's full power is the ability to know everything that has happened, the power to walk through the past (time travel), and the ability to transcend space and time to change events in the future through knowledge of the past. He embodies the concept of Past.

After the Dark Forest is defeated, and the dead are purified, the Three give their powers back to Rock, Midnight and Half Moon, who then finally fade out of existence after thousands of years, finally at peace. Half Moon’s words to Jayfeather, that she’ll always wait for him? They are changed to mean that she will be with him as the earth and sky around him. He shackled her to her prison of being a god, and so he unshackled her and set her free. 

(Also, Hollyleaf might be an anomaly in the very fabric of the universe that shouldn’t exist, and Dovewing was supposed to be Lion and Jay’s sister. I haven’t figured that part out yet. I think it's a fun idea to make her, or least who she used to be, be the reason why the Dark Forest exists.)