#also!! one of the things i love about writing these is how i kinda codeswitch into the character's voice/speaking style a bit
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Pls Hoosier on Valentine's list!
valentines day alphabet ( accepting! )
A : AFFECTION. how does your muse show affection?
He doesn’t, if he can help it. Unfortunately, Hoosier’s a bigger softie than he likes to admit. His affection shows itself through small gestures --- a blanket tucked around someone’s shoulders, food shared, limbs resting casually against each other during idle moments. If Hoosier’s willing to go out of his way for someone, even a little bit, then they matter to him. His smile could make flowers grow, so being on the receiving end of it tends to send the people he cares about a clear message.
B : BOUQUET. does your muse like flowers? which ones are their favourite?
Absolutely not a bouquet man. Doesn’t trust flowers, doesn’t know how they work, and is not inclined to find out.
C : CHOCOLATE. does your muse like chocolate? which one is their favourite?
Abso-fuckin-lutely. Hoosier would shank a man for some cherry cordials.
D : DATE. what is your muse’s ideal date? where / who with / etc?
He prefers to split the bill on any dates, because he’s cheap economically responsible like that. Hoosier’s ideal date wouldn’t involve paying at all; he’d have a great time doing something on just the right side of illegal, like sneaking into a movie (makes the cinema experience 10x more fun) or loitering in a potentially dangerous place. Coffee dates are pretentious, but he really likes coffee, so sometimes you’ve gotta take the good with the bad. He’d love to go to an animal shelter and, like, play with the dogs... Hoosier’s not a hard person to take out, and he’s satisfied doing pretty much anything, so long as it’s not too boring.
E : EMBRACE. does your muse like hugs? what are their hugs like?
what the hell is a hug He doesn’t love them --- mostly because he’s been on the receiving end of too many of Chuckler’s post-workout sweaty bear hugs, and that’s something you never recover from. Hoosier’s particular about physical affection, unless it’s from someone he really considers His People --- even with his closest friends, he can be weird about hugs, though he’ll make allowances for his little siblings. He’s not a hugger himself.
F : FLIRT. is your muse good at flirting? how do they flirt?
He doesn’t, because it’s a lot of effort, and frankly he just can’t be assed. Hoosier doesn’t do charming small-talk; he’s not going to wine and dine someone he’s just interested in taking to bed. If he wants more than that, well... he doesn’t even know how to go about it, so they better appreciate the drinks he’s willing to pay for. The other partner’s got to carry the conversation, because Hoosier can’t make small talk to save his life. His good looks and bluntness tend to carry him far enough --- as far as the bedroom.
G : GIFT. is your muse good at gift - giving or do they struggle to get it right?
He really doesn’t try that hard. The sort of person to literally ask outright, “what do you want?” a week before a birthday... then, to his credit, he goes out and tracks the thing down. (Leckie once gave him a really obscure book title, just to see what would happen. Hoosier turned up with it. The book had been out of print of years. This was a first-edition copy. No one knows where he got it, how, or if it was obtained legally.)
H : HEART. is your muse quick or slow to give their heart away?
He’s... slow because the idea scares him. Hoosier and intimacy... do not mix. On a physical level, sure, but emotionally? He’s gonna glower that idea into submission and keep any pesky feelings that bubble up down for as long as possible. Hoosier does not love the idea of opening himself up to getting hurt, and doesn’t think he’s very suited for romance, so he’d just... rather not.
I : I LOVE YOU. does your muse find ‘i love you’ easy or hard to say?
Like we just said! Emotional intimacy is a Big Yikes for him! Anyone would be lucky to get an “I love you” out of him once. He’s got to be either very drunk or very sleepy to say it out loud --- both times are when he’s at his softest.
J : JEALOUSY. does your muse get jealous in a relationship?
Oh yeah. Hoosier can be... territorial when it comes to the people he loves. He passionately dislikes anyone getting too close to his partner; there’s being friendly, and then there’s being more, and he’s got strong instincts for when something’s more than friendly. Hoosier makes up for it by being bitchier than usual, glowering at them and being a bit more physical with his partner. He’s rarely one for PDA, but Jealous Hoosier has some points to make.
K : KISS. is your muse a good kisser? why / why not?
He’s a very physical kisser, almost taking ownership of his partner through his lips; Hoosier Smith doesn’t kiss to play around. Hands on the ass, the thighs, gripping the hips as he grinds slightly against them; each breath seems to ripple between the two of them, a shared convulsion, before Hoosier goes right back in for more. He’s a hungry kisser, and a little feral about it --- bruises will be left along his partner’s neck, and their lips may be sore for days afterwards, but they way Hoosier leaves them seeing stars makes it all worth it.
L : LOVE. who does your muse love?
He’s very fond of his little siblings, and very affectionate with them --- way more than anyone’s used to seeing out of him. Hoosier’s got Big Brother Instincts, even they don’t rear their head that often. He loves his mom and (very old, possibly immortal) grandparents; he’s very devoted to his friends, no matter how he rolls his eyes at Chuckler and Runner’s chaos or bitches at Leckie’s pretentiousness. That’s the thing about Hoosier --- he doesn’t love a lot of people, but the people he does love, he wants to keep.
M : MOONLIGHT. is morning or night a more romantic setting?
Night, because he’s never up in the damn morning. Why would someone want to do things before 10am? Not this man. Anything that needs to get done can be done at midnight, or not at all.
N : NAUGHTY. what is your muse like in bed?
He alternates between fierce and teasing, but Hoosier is very, very determined. God, does he love his partner’s reactions... and he savors them, leading them along for as long as possible, dragging every encounter out until the end. Hoosier’s in no rush to finish; honestly, he has a bit of trouble finishing without his partner, and it’s usually seeing them go over the edge first that gets him there. He’s rough, rougher than he means to be at times; sex is the most energy he’ll ever expend at a given moment, and he turns it into a full-on workout, both parties slick with sweat by the end of it. Sometimes, he’ll just put his mouth to task, trailing it slowly along his partner’s body --- sucking kisses into their chest, their stomach, their hips, all the way to their thighs and what lies beyond.
O : ODE. does your muse have a way with words?
Yes. Very succinct. To the point. Knows what the hell he’s saying. Fine with words, thanks.
P : PARTNER. what does your muse look for in a partner? looks / personality?
Someone who doesn’t get on his last damn nerve. Hoosier would do well with a partner who goes with the flow --- probably someone more extroverted than him, but who really doesn’t demand much or tax his energy when he needs to just destress. He’d do best with someone low-maintenance. (Too bad the high-maintenance people are so damn attractive.) They have to love animals; they have to be able to keep things neat, because he hates a messy house; he’s fine with almost any quirk they might have, so long as they put up with his in return. He loves people who can sing... and people who laugh at their own jokes really shouldn’t be as attractive as they are.
Q : QUESTION. would your muse ask the big question or expect their partner to?
He’d ask as soon as he comes to terms with the idea... which’ll take a while, not gonna lie. His partner asking first would completely take Hoosier by surprise. He wouldn’t be expecting it, wouldn’t know what to do with it, and his off-the-cuff answer would be, “what the fuck”. Promising omen of marital bliss right there.
R : ROMANCE. is your muse a romantic or a cynic?
Definitely on the cynical side. He’s... afraid of romance, a little bit, and definitely doesn’t imagine himself as anybody’s Prince Charming.
S : SWEETHEART. did your muse have a childhood sweetheart?
He didn’t, really. Little Bill Smith had way more important things on his mind, like taking long naps, stealing cookies, and hiding in places where his mama couldn’t find him. Bigger priorities on his mind.
T : TRUE LOVE. does your muse believe in true love?
... nah, probably not. It’s not something he gives a lot of thought to, because thinking about love in general leaves him feeling half-starved and irritated. True love... well, to be honest, he’s got no clue what it is.
U : UNREQUITED. has your muse had their heart broken?
... let’s say he hasn’t and call it even. He’s not gonna talk about it. (He hasn’t, but he’s been on the cusp of loving people who didn’t love him back. Caution is learned; if you go to the edge of a cliff and almost fall off, you’re in no hurry to dance on that edge again. He learned to fear love without ever feeling the full sting of rejection, cause he’s just proactive like that.)
V : VALENTINE. how does your muse feel about valentine’s day?
A complete waste of time, unless there’s chocolate involved. Chocolate for him. Get him chocolate, please.
W : WEDDING. would your muse get married? why / why not?
Mmm. I mean. He’s not going to not get married, if the opportunity arises, but it’s also, like... a lot of effort, everybody makes a big deal out of it, it costs a lot of money, and, like... if all his siblings get hitched, does his Mama really need him to, too? (If Hoosier gets to the point where he’s head-over-heels in love with someone, enough to want to spend his life with ‘em, yeah, he’ll get married. But he’s prefer a quiet ceremony, no muss or fuss, to a big white wedding.)
X : XOXO. does your muse use / like pet names?
Absolutely never... unless he’s in the mood. An arm tucked around his partner’s chest or waist, and a muttered “darlin’” against the side of their neck, is Hoosier-speak for ‘let’s get someplace private now, before I take my pants off right here.’
Y : YOURS. does your muse get protective easily?
In, like, the laziest way possible. He’s perfectly willing to sit back and watch the fireworks, glowering as some fool gets bolder and bolder with the person he cares about... but he’s not apathetic, he’s waiting. As soon as the bastard crosses a line, Hoosier’s on his feet and swinging. He doesn’t say anything; he just puts an end to the situation, with a few well-placed hits. Cross Hoosier Smith’s people at your own risk.
Z : ZZZ. how many people has your muse slept with?
... do you really want to know the answer to this question? It’s... a lot. Many people. An amount that should maybe concern him. He couldn’t count if he tried, but the number is probably in the double digits. (How? He literally never goes out! Hoosier’s got ways, okay. When he feels like having sex, he will find someone willing and eager. It’s never a challenge to convince them. The job gets done.) Don’t ask, cause he’ll just smirk and say nothing.
#hoosier was absolutely the kid who'd just vanish for hours and his family would be like 'wh?? where?? where did he go?? again??'#and after a while he'd just slither out from behind the couch or something#my sister was like that when she was little and legit she once tried to crawl into the fireplace#also!! one of the things i love about writing these is how i kinda codeswitch into the character's voice/speaking style a bit#like leckie has to say absolutely EVERYTHING for every answer#and then hoosier's just like 'yes. moving on.'#hoosier smith#headcanons
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Hey, K, I know it’s been days but you still feel like infodumping about Spiderverse? :o
pettyprocrastination said to jonedwardbernthal:Hello yes I loved into the spiderverse with my heart and soul please info dump I require sustenance
YES I DO WANT TO INFODUMP ABOUT SPIDERVERSE THANK YOU FOR ASKING
okay okay so i’m gonna put this all under a cut for those who haven’t seen the movie and wish to remain spoiler free, and i’ll also put a couple images so that mobile users (who sometimes automatically see the post, apparently?) to warn them to scroll past!
(pls enjoy my crappy ms paint warning banner ghskhgdk)
SO FIRST OF ALL I WANT TO SAY that genuinely, this movie changed my life. I have never been as excited or happy about a movie as I was with this one, and can find few (if any) flaws with it. I would have to be hyper-nitpicky if I wanted to point out anything wrong with it, but overall, I gotta say, this movie inspired me, made me cry, made me laugh out loud, made me shake and jitter with excitement.
I should point out that, yes, the visuals can be kinda jarring, especially for sensitive people like me who react to flashing stimulus and abrupt movement very poorly, but I honestly LOVED the visual aspect of the film. The character design is incredible, the animation is so unique and stunning, and every single person has this wonderful individuality in the way they look and move that it just blows me away. This movie is already a frontrunner for an Oscar in the animation category, apparently, and it’s easy to see why.
The writing is also impeccable, with a quick pace and genuine humanity to it, and it feels so bright and alive! The way people talk is so full of character and personality, and Miles’ codeswitching is adorable and fun to listen to, and everyone has such a special and unique personality that comes through how they speak. The voice acting is INCREDIBLE and the array of the cast is SO awesome and I LOVE everyone who was in it!
I literally am so excited about everything that I’m having a hard time keeping this post linear and sensical, but I just! Love it so much!
Some people criticize the film by saying that it’s not really the “first black Spiderman movie” because Miles “shares the spotlight”, but, honestly? That didn’t come across to me at all. This movie felt entirely centered on Miles. Yes, Peter B. Parker played a big role, but, like, every movie has supporting characters and co-mains. I understand the frustration, but that’d kinda be like saying that Captain America: The First Avenger isn’t Steve’s story because Peggy gets screentime and so does Bucky. But I also do get where people are coming from and I find the frustration very valid.
But I LOVE all the spider-people, and they didn’t actually overwhelm the movie. Peni, SpiderNoir, and SpiderHam all took backseats. They were fun additions, but didn’t ever detract from the experience of this being Miles’ story. Even Gwen didn’t derail the film, or even Peter B.! They all stayed in their lanes and moved Miles’ story along, more like the wheels propelling him than roadblocks obfuscating his progression.
I loved every one of the characters, and I got so attached to all of them; Miles’ family really stands out to me, because they are such strong and loving characters, and it is so, so sadly rare to see loving black families portrayed like this. Jefferson, Miles’ dad, is allowed to be flawed without ever crossing the line into “bad dad” territory. He’s allowed to be wrong but still love his son and be doing the absolute best for him. Even Miles’ “bad” uncle, Aaron, made me cry and love him. When Aaron died, I was horrified (mostly because, I mean, god, we really did not need to see another black man getting shot by a white guy...), but they also never demonized Aaron, or downplayed the tragedy of his loss. He was heroic, even in his mistakes, and I think that was really noble on the part of the storytellers.
The movie just feels so lived in and loved and human, and you can tell that it’s just a work of art and love and passion. It’s a game-changer. I legitimately consider it the best Marvel movie ever made, on par with Black Panther in terms of artistic value and importance. It’s the fun of Thor: Ragnarok and the art and significance of Black Panther rolled into one, unique, amazing bundle that has forever set the bar for how I want movies, especially movies intended for families and children to be.
“Anyone can wear the mask” means something. It may sound like a cheesy cop-out, but it means that we don’t have to look up to Perfect Pillars Of White Heroism as our standards. It means black children from Brooklyn are heroes. Jewish people are heroes. Women are heroes. Asian people are heroes. Even Miles’ parents are heroes, and it shows the wide gamut of good people and what we owe to each other. While neither Rio nor Jefferson Morales-Davis are “superheroes”, they are legitimate heroes, doing their part to make the world a better place.
Also, check THIS:
Just saying!
Anyway, moving on; the jokes in the movie are awesome, and my family has been throwing them back and forth ever since we saw the movie. SpiderHam’s t-pose ascension into the black hole and “keep this, it’ll fit in your pocket” had us in tears. SpiderNoir and the Rubik’s cube? Incredible. Peter B. crying in the shower? Artistry.
AND NOW FOR ME TO TALK ABOUT THE AFTER CREDITS SCENE BECAUSE I HAVE BEEN HOLDING IT IN FOR S O L O N G
When I read that Oscar had a cameo in the movie, I needed to know. It was the only spoiler I allowed myself to know about, and when I heard he was going to be Spider-Man 2099/Miguel O’Hara, I flipped. I read nothing else about the scene, and wanted to go in blind, but I researched Miguel and, well, you know, I fell in love!
His scene was SO good and SO funny and I LOVE Miguel SO much, you have no idea. I am SO excited for him to be in the next movie (fingers crossed!) and can’t wait to see more of him. I do hope they give him more screen time, because he’s a great character, and because it’d be amazing to have a Latino Spider-Man AND a Afrolatino Spider-Man! And because, you know, more Oscar is always ideal.
I love, love, love Miguel, and Oscar was so funny (he has amazing comedic timing and such great range, omg), and I am desperate to see more of him. I haven’t stopped bombarding my poor friend Cydney with love and affection for Miggy in, like, two weeks. I’m sure she’s sick of it by now. Also, I kinda wanna write stuff about Miggy, lowkey, as self-indulgence, but for now I’ll just keep that foolishness to myself lol.
Miguel O’Hara Is My Boyfriend Now ghdkhgkldhg
Anyway, the movie is chock-full of amazing things, both from an artistic/cultural standpoint and from a Marvel-fan standpoint: so many easter eggs and little surprises, so much amazing writing, so much amazing character design, just!! So! Good! Please go see it immediately, because I’m itching to see it again and don’t know how I can resist going in for a second watch.
Also, Peter B. Parker is Jewish and it’s canon and if you want to step up and fight me about it, feel free to, but I will kick your ass. I will. Know this. Jewish Spider-Man FOREVER, FOOLS. No one is allowed to thirst after him if they also ignore his being Jewish or disrespect it, so if you wanna love him, you gotta love his Judaism too, or I’ll fist-fight you behind the Denny’s at 3 am and knock you the hell out.
also john mulaney’s cussing outtakes for spiderham are the funniest thing on earth and i’m crying
OH and I have the art book for the movie and everything is so *kisses fingers like an Italian cook* B E A U T I F U L! And the soundtrack? BOY I TELL YA I was listening to it for WEEKS in advance even when there were only three songs released and some of those tracks are, like, incredibly powerful, whooh.
Anyway GO SEE SPIDERVERSE. I LOVE IT. ALL OTHER SPIDER-MAN MOVIES ARE DOOKIE BY COMPARISON.
I have more I could say but I’m so excited I’m bouncing around and going hog wild dgkgdhgkg i love spider verse
#spiderverse#messages#spoilers#into the spiderverse spoilers#miggy: LOOK AT YOUR FINGER LOOK AT IT YOU ARE POINTING AT ME#me wiping tears from my eyes: i cant believe i love you so freakin much#Anonymous
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Morose Mononokean II 4 - 7 | Mob Psycho 100 II 4 - 7 | My Roommate is a Cat 4 - 6 | Double Decker! EX 1 | Egao no Daika 5 - 7 | Shield Hero 4 - 6 | Magical Girl Spec Ops Asuka 4 - 6 | Royal Tutor movie
Morose Mononokean II 4
Aw, another little fuzzball to steal away my heart? I’m being spoiled, aren’t I?
For some reason, this episode was meant to be really emotional, but I felt pretty restless while watching it. Probably because I was thinking about playing Merc Storia all that time.
Mob Psycho 100 II 4
Didn’t expect Shinra to be back after his previous appearance…
Notably, you’d expect Matsuo’s name to have the kanji for “pine tree” in it, but it doesn’t - it has the kanji for “demon” and then one more.
I loved it when FLCL and SGRS went into manga mode, but for some reason, the transition into manga mode didn’t land as well here…hmm.
“I’ll go inside her…With an out-of-body experience.” - That sounds majorly wronggggggggggg, Mob, y’know? Even with context.
I find it interesting Mob perceives himself to be naked…as in, unguarded. He’s fine as he is and doesn’t need to change…in some ways, anyway. He could probably do with a few more emotions, but you get what I mean.
Wha-wha-wha-whoaaaaaaaaa. You mean, Mogami just got rid of Mob’s powers??? That is a nasty cliffhanger!
My Roommate is a Cat 4
Just seeing Hiroto near Kawase’s armpit…so unfazed…it’s kinda funny, but only mildly.
Tuxedo cat…ergh. The differences between American and British English never ceases to trip me up…I mean, the term makes sense…it’s just the differences between the types of English I’m annoyed at.
If you observe the OP, you’ll see Haru has that collar…I’m not sure if that’s meant to be a spoiler then…
Haru basically has the mindset of Kaguya and Shirogane, which makes this hilarious (and yet it’s still justified due to being a believable mindset for a stray!).
S-Smug dog!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Get out of the way of Haru-chan!
Shield Hero 4
“Draw your swords!” – Wasn’t there a rule saying Naofumi can’t use a sword anyway? Plus, Motoyasu has a spear, not a sword…
Balloon? Now, that’s funny!
Using magic to intervene is the cowardly action, methinks, Myne.
I find it interesting Naofumi sees Raphtalia as a little girl – it’s a perception of vulnerability, potentially weakness – when things are shown through his perspective.
Falling Through Starlight is beautiful, y’know that? Be-a-uuuuuuuuuuu-t-i-ful!
Magical Girl Spec Ops Asuka 4
Interestingly, Francine kinda looks like Mami (Madoka Magica).
Wait, is this woman Miura? (Sorry, I’m just wondering why Abigail – the blonde evil magical girl – would choose to use yakiniku to threaten people…)
Oh dear…it’s that train question (save one or save many).
Neding authority before you can actually do anything legal…now that sounds like Double Decker.
“Chef”? I was mortified when it came to the rusalka scene…but I think we already know why Povar is a chef…
CQC? Close quarters combat? Ooh, I’ve never heard it abbreviated before.
Well, I like how Povar and Rusalka Man (can’t spell Russian to save my life) always keep their salaries in mind. Makes them easier to see as evil.
Egao no Daika 5
Oh, this series has two moons? Kind of like Double Decker’s two suns, yeah?
I just realised Lily’s the only one with a skirt on her suit…
Morose Mononokean II 5
I don’t think I’ve seen a Fuzzy-centric episode ever since the first time we met the furball…
That hand on neck thing is apparently a CIA technique if I interpreted it right…just, it’s applied to a purple/white lion, so it’s hard to tell whether it’s the real thing…
Fluffy tadpole is best tadpole. All fluffy things are cute to me, even the lethal ones…I guess.
Seriously, if someone doesn’t call the animation of the Executive sakuga, I don’t know sakuga! That crow is some fancy animation!
Hanae’s mother is scarier than most youkai, given she can give me a nasty jump scare!
Mob Psycho II 5
This episode’s called Discord…which maks me think of the chat program of the same name…weird, huh?
Notably, it’s Dimple’s voice coming from Mob’s mouth…hmm.
That episode was real cool…it’s too bad by turning off the volume at the wrong time, I missed the Sajou no Hana song…
My Roommate is a Cat 5
Roku, Nana, Hachi…haha.
I noticed Haru has smaller eyes than Hachi…aside from the collar of course.
Aw…reunion too cute. I honestly think that this show has a fairly effective use of “filling in the gaps”, as it were, and thus making good use of cuts.
Double Decker! EX 1
Yep, we’re back with Double Decker!!! I’m glad to see it back, really.
Wait…ohhhhhhhhh. So Double Decker! doesn’t just refer to the bus in this show or the system. It means “2 Detectives” in Japanese (in a codeswitching sort of way). It was wordplay all along! Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh! I get it now!
This Deana assassin stuff must be a lie…
(after the commercial break) C’mon, Kirill, buddy. You’re drunk, y’know that, right…? Right??? Update: Oh, not drunk, dreaming. My mistake.
Oh, I was just saying that My Roommate is a Cat dos a nice job “filling in gaps”. Didn’t realise Double Decker did it as well. Also, how the heck is Doug unpopular with women???
So…Kirill actually got hired based on his feminine looks? Geesh, that Travis…
The thing I missed about this show was not being able to play the ED after an episode, so I’m glad to have it back!
Spec Ops Asuka 5
Having Kurumi fix up Nozomi’s arm kind of erases the consequences…but that’s what Kurumi’s for, right?
Barber Scissors…? Is this what happens when you take Kill la Kill way too seriously?
Wowee. Din’t think Sacchuu was capable of dealing nasty punches as well.
There’s gotta be some sort of parallel between Abigail and the queen vs Asuka and Kurumi…
Post-credits segment. Keep watching.
Shield Hero 5
Headbutt to the nuts! Oof!
When it comes to races, the one tune that comes to mind is one from the Dog Island (track 22 from this YouTube playlist).
I swear there was CGI during the race…on Filo.
Please don’t make jokes about Naofumi liking lolis, people. This is not that type of show…
Mononokean 6
Is it just me, or has this epiode been relying on the use of blue speech bubbles for humour more than normal?
It’s Mononokean: Sports Anime edition!
For some reason, I find the name “trashboat” hilarious. It was probably just “ponkotsu” (piece of trash) in practice, but the variation in English is really something to behold…
Ashiya sleeps like an old man, LOL. It must be cosy in that bed…
Moja is just adorable in whatever scene it appears in! Even Moja being dragged down a stream is cute~!
Relaxing your shoulders, huh? That reminds me that that’s a destress technique I haven’t used in a while. My head’s been spinning while I was trying to watch this episode, so I should probably get back to trying to do that stuff…after this episode, of course.
Price of Smiles 6
You think Spec Ops Asuka looks bad? Look at Price of Smiles melt in this “Yuni! You should recover!” scene.
For some reason, this one dude (I forget his name) being a father surprises me. He looks like the type to be single…
The female version of the name “Noel” is Noelle…get that right, people!
Layla’s right when she says one of the main causes of war is the struggle for resources and wealth.
Mob Psycho II 6
I noticed instead of a Mac or something, the computer is a “One” computer.
The board says something a lot more complicated than Saitama’s routine…which means One likes exercise. Maybe…probably.
“Codomo” phone, LOL.
The last time I heard of tofu in anime that I remember…was Boueibu. Something about Ryuu killing a man with tofu.
Somehow it didn’t occur to me until the eyecatch was over but the block…was tofu!
How do you even get drunk when there’s no alcohol in the drink??? (LOL)
Oh! Shinra again!
…Also Jodo Kirin!
Shield Hero 6
Naofumi is giving 0 f**ks about the dressmaker’s love of Filo.
Why is Filo CGI…? It looks unnerving, to be honest with you.
My Roommate is a Cat 6
Eleventh grade…16? 17? Heck, Yugo looks 27, not 17!
Notably, “Comic Polaris” is the name of the magazine that publishes the manga of this. Hence “Novels Polaris”.
Heck, Subaru. In the internet age in particular, people write to affect others. I should know, as someone who did just that just a few years ago!
Oushitsu Kyoushi Heine movie
Yay, we’re back! Crunchyroll bringing over movies is definitely increasing my workload for these commentaries, so with all the new things I’ve added to my lists of priorities as of late, I wonder if I can keep up…
Hitting us with CGI in the first minute of the movie…oh man, how far does CGI go these days???
Honestly, in my brain Wagner (Classicaloid) = the twins (this movie) = the Beppus (Boueibu LOVE! LOVE!). They’re very similar in terms of personality…
In the same way, Bruno = Schubert from Classicaloid (but swap one’s Sensei for the other’s Senpai).
Licht = Motz.
It seems like someone liked ponytail!Licht enough to keep him here. So it really wasn’t just me, huh?
Seriously, what’s this “God of War” stuff anyway???
Man, vocal exercises? This takes me back to my piano-playing days…I was a sightreader and only had to do one of the two (out of sightreading and vocal stuff), but there was someone else who had to do both.
This piano is bugging me. Its white keys are black and its black keys are white!
Somehow, Heine’s small top hat suits him. It’s probably because he wears a small beret in that same position usually.
More CGI background characters…*sigh*
Hmm…soft power at its finest(?)
Seriously though, why did that evil Duke guy appear in this movie again??? He has zero use plotwise. Sure, he was important in the first season and if we ever get a second he’ll be important there, but here? Nada!
Have you noticed Heine is in all those dance positions a girl would normally be in??? Hmm! Interesting! But still…if there’s one thing I ever missed from the anime’s experience, it would be-oh, scratch that! This is my cue to watch the cheesy live-action dance ending! I missed it so much!
Egao no Daika 7
Seriously…who is Eins talking to??? Whose emperor???
They still haven’t revealed what this new guy’s name is, even after his introduction…well, technically he was introduced at the River Deese, but we still didn’t learn his name then. (Did we?)
Spec Ops Asuka 6
Is Mia just this show’s version of Kyouko (from Madoka Magica, but American of course)???
Oooooookay, that (with the kissing and stuff) is so not what foreigners are like, people…
Oh, goodness. Have I really been living with this stuff (girl x girl teasing, with Kurumi in particular being one of the more extreme examples I’ve seen) in my magical girl anime for years now? I mean, Suite PreCure is laced with the stuff…
If ordinary rigor mortis business is at work, then I’d say the heater is to speed up the rotting of the corpse…
LOL, there’s Halloween-class…and then there’s Voorhees-class…how appropriate for Disas.
“Only one of the Magical Five would’ve known about that phrase.” – My bets are on Peipei, but we’ll find out for sure…someday.
Mononokean 7
As much as I found the pillow fight scene with Fuzzy in it funny, I swear Abeno is a bit too sadistic for my own good. What is it with some women and their sadistic kinks…?
Abeno calling Ashiya “hunk of junk” makes me think Ashiya isn’t much of a Sousuke (from Classicaloid), but they do have a lot of similar character traits, now that I think of it…hmm.
For some reason, I think Abeno knew the conditions of the deal and what the deal entailed in advance, hence the training camp.
Seiza…means sitting on the floor in the position Ashiya was in (knees to the floor etc).
Mob Psycho II 7
“Cheeseburger Tornado”, LOL.
When Reigen got angry at the TV, I was just like, “It’s Shield Hero (Mob Psycho version)!” I.e. you con the conman and not turn the conned into a conman…or something like that.
Those microphones are so obviously CGI, people…
I know I’m a fan of Yuzuru Tachikawa, but episode 5 actually didn’t do too much for me, to be honest (even though it was visual spectacle, which is Tachikawa’s strong suit). However, while episode 7 looked less punchy overall, it was miles better…
“First-press limited edition? That is the absolute best decision.” – What is that referring to??? Update: It’s referring to the BDs...or DVDs...or both.
Update: Forgot to add Double Decker to the title and tags.
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time together with time to spare; time to learn, time to care
i feel seasick with grief. my stomach feels like a rubber hot water bottle being tossed about between two hands, sad water sloshing around, springing up through my throat to my eyes which keep welling up. my heart is beating and radiating from it is a dull burning feeling that contracts and expands through my chest as i breathe. my fingers are trembling and i can’t keep them steady, my whole body is slightly tingly, vibratory. tears keep surfacing, a wall of water over my eyes, cascading from behind my eyebrows, but then i breathe and they don’t fall. it’s 12:10pm and i must be hungry because i haven’t eaten since early afternoon yesterday, having been at hospice all day in new jersey until close to midnight. my mind feels hazy, my stomach is sour and i feel empty all over. it feels like a hangover, but i am just living through death.
i’ll stop writing to eat soon because i know i need to care for myself well through this, but right now i need to write through what i feel first. i’m telling myself i will neglect everything i need to get done today, but i’m not sure that’s true. i’ll decide if maybe being productive toward tour tasks, making my video collage for my performance, making some important phone calls, going outside, anything other than just being in this, will be helpful to me today. if it won’t, i won’t allow myself to be stressed by obligation. i don’t want to use anything—workaholism, frenzied cleaning, substances, tv, sleeping—to distract myself or to numb myself or to get lost in something else.
i put two slices of bread in the oven, i’m going to eat toast. i think about orange juice, but my whole torso already feels like it’s coursing with watery acid. i sigh and i think “it’s unfair.” i wonder about spiritual justice, i wonder about consequences, i ask myself, or my thoughts vocalize themselves in my head, asking the void, asking the matrix, asking the ether—why?
i was supposed to spend the day yesterday at my aunt linda’s with her and my mother. my mother texted me on saturday night at around 10 that we couldn’t hang out because instead, she, linda, and my uncle, tommy, were going to go see our cousin, maureen, in hospice. cousin is kind of misleading, given maureen is my grandmother’s niece. she’s 77 and more like an aunt to them, a great aunt to me. funnily, i was sitting on the rocks of the east river in red hook, off the street maureen grew up on when i get the text. i call my mother immediately, to ask if i could come with them. i call my uncle and leave a message, asking what the best way for me to link up with them tomorrow is if they are going.
i didn’t know how badly my mother was really doing until i saw her yesterday, or i did know, but haven’t been able to deal with it. and none of us knew how badly maureen was doing until we saw her yesterday, her dying. my mother didn’t come. she’s in a really fragile mental state, she’s not eating or taking care of herself, she’s foggy and quiet, and my uncle picked a fight with her before i was heading to queens and then she felt too sick and upset to come. my uncle was a huge, mean asshole lacking compassion as usual, and it’s his fault she didn’t come because the miscommunication about scheduling was his fault, but instead he just did what he and a lot of them tend to do in my family, blamed my mother, yelled at her, shut her down. she’s an easy target and she’s very sensitive.
i burnt my toast, but i’m going to eat it anyway, with half an avocado and some salt. i bite it, i chew, move the food around in my mouth until it is mush, swallow. it doesn’t taste like anything, it just feels like changing textures on my tongue, between my teeth, against the soft inner walls of my cheeks.
i saw my mother briefly around the corner from the house, felt hopeless and heartbroken. she kept saying she was okay and i kept saying she wasn’t. sometimes loving my mother, a lot of times, loving my mother, has meant begging her to care about herself enough to stay alive. she is slowly killing herself it seems sometimes, the house—how tommy hoarded it, how tommy and dorothy began hoarding her apartment after my mom took dorothy in—is killing her, their cruelty, their verbal abuse, the meanness, is killing her, me, us. i know i’m going to have to decide to restructure things in my life to take the reins to help her because she can’t do it herself at this juncture, in this way. but i do have faith that once she’s back on her feet a bit, once she’s shown some care, she can push forward again. nobody in our immediate family has a lot of faith in her but me. no one takes any responsibility for her well-being but me. because she’s the crazy one. because she’s the punching bag. i try to think clearly, i try to think of ways i can step in here without it overwhelming my life, without having to sacrifice what i need to do with myself. i try to be reasonable about what i’m dealing with here, i try to not catastrophize—i can deal with this after i return from tour. is there time for that? will she be okay by the time i get back? will she be alive? reasonably, yes, she will be alive. she may not be any better than she is right now, though, but what i could accomplish toward that in a month in a fucked up personal state is unclear either way.
i think about next year and how i’ve been considering not going to the conservatory, been weighing my options and thinking about my dreams, my goals, what i’ve made and not waiting to live my life the way i want to. how i’ve been thinking of actually just extending the tour, starting the performance/organizing collective with the emerge people, working and traveling and using the money i raise toward performance programs that aren’t THE WHITE RICH ESTABLISHMENT and that also provide more financial assistance. not going $40,000 more into loan debt on top of the rest and having to raise $4-6,000 a semester on my own, just to go, not including housing, life expenses, everything else. i think about how i can take classes with laverne cox’s acting coach, singing classes with julia, queer-oriented body and movement classes, the doors that have opened for me through emerge with connections, fellowships, residencies, how i can develop my own framework for education and pay less for it, while also maybe getting more of what i need in ways that honor me. in a way where i wouldn’t have to, on top of being at school from 9-5 or 6 each day, and working some nights and weekends, have to do the extra work to just teach everyone about who i am, about trans-ness and identity and privilege in general, on top of the psychological struggle it will be just to be in a program like that where the point is to delve deep into emotional landscapes and embodiment, but also—the psychological struggle of having to be a woman, literally, in scenes (and like rich wife canon characters). i think about all the work and energy i’ll put into transforming an institution that will revert back to itself for the most part upon my leaving. because that’s what i do in these settings. i think about being one of the only trans poor people there and i wonder why i would do it. i wonder what i would gain.
i tell myself if i don’t go, if i just run with what i’ve made, this book, six years in the making, run with what i’ve built in performance and with emerge, see where that goes, i also could always reapply and get in again. i got in with no training whatsoever. i got in because i wanted to, because i gave it everything. but maybe i want to give myself everything, maybe i want to go for my dream in a different way, in a way i’ve been dreaming about for a long time. maybe just because i am used to running myself ragged, running on empty, on fumes, used to being an exception in an affluent establishment institution and codeswitching and fighting my way through it, doesn’t mean it’s what i should do. maybe that’s an old dream, maybe that’s just what flashdance and gypsy and some theatrical version of meritocracy told me to do.
i’m diverging, i want to focus on yesterday, but i can’t separate the future, my future, from the present. my mother gets inserted into my planning. i wonder if that’s wrong. i think, maybe choosing not to go, well, i know choosing not to go, will make it easier for me to support her. but what kinda role should that play in my decision-making? i think that our radical communities, steeped in academic theories on what’s right and wrong in terms of how to be and act and live can be as blindly and naively individualistic as any other framework, sometimes don’t speak to the lived realities of poor families and what we have to do to survive and help each other survive. but also, codependence has been a sour reality in my family life and i’m constantly evaluating what support needs to look like in my life. as my cousin denise, maureen’s daughter, said yesterday, take care of yourself first, then take care of your mother. which is, i imagine, what has sustained her through taking care of her own mother.
i think, too, that going might be a bad kind of drain on my mental health, a bad kind of obsessive attention to my craft at the expense of a lot of other necessary parts of my life: like focusing on self-care and community-care and my family, blood and not, and herbal transitioning and just nourishing myself in all the other passions and desires and needs i have. i worry that the program won’t honor a much-needed and awaited dedication to balance in my life that i have been working hard and successfully (in some ways) to cultivate. because the kind of rigorous it is is the kind that tells you to push yourself beyond what you are reasonably capable, that kinda ragged discipline where you break yourself and don’t be a wimp/baby/sissy. no crying in baseball kinda system. i don’t know that i believe in that anymore. i believe in pushing myself, i believe in breaking, i believe in rigor, but maybe not in that way. and maybe not in that setting. who will hold me there?
yesterday, like my whole life, and maybe anyone’s, especially where family is concerned, i was a child and i was an adult. precocious in my emotional intelligence, seen and held mostly by myself and by denise, maureen’s daughter. it was like years collapsing. it was like when grandma and donna died, like when maureen and denise showed up for us, for them? my aunts and uncles, their cousins they raised or grew up with. tables were turned. denise is a year younger than my mother, denise. maureen and denise were integral to my survival through my childhood, especially through the first couple years after my grandma and donna’s death, all the chaos that ensued. which was just a continuation of other chaos.
time collapsed. it was so ordinary and normal to talk to denise. it was so ordinary and normal for us to be all over each other with sweet, familial, friendly affection. we saw each other as we always did, denise, 58, me, 28. having these beautiful and complex relationships with our mothers. being two people who were always kinda different, always set apart. two people with so much exuberant love for people, two creative and eccentric and short people. and, interestingly, tho i was an only child, i always was treated as a kinda sibling to my 6 aunts and uncles and my mother, and denise, tho she had 3 siblings, was always kinda like an only child, much closer to maureen than to her siblings. linda said, “denise is going to be so lost.” because she has been so close with maureen, living with her since before i was born aside from her own stint in the bay area and other moments in NYC, and, recently, taking care of maureen through the last two years, two years i didn’t realize until yesterday had been so extreme. taking care of her almost exclusively, as her siblings live out their married lives with children and ordinary career paths (no judgment, it’s just how it is). denise being the eldest.
and not knowing about maureen’s condition these two years: that’s partially the working class irish-catholic stoicism, as denise and i were discussing, sitting by a wall of windows in the hospice hallway, and that’s partially my family, my elders, being disconnected because of their dysfunction. and that’s partially maureen just not wanting people to know, not wanting to burden people, not wanting help, and also what denise called “vanity.” and so i don’t begrudge anyone for the ways they chose to deal, not deal, talk, not talk about what was happening. i am mature enough in these times now to not judge, to not have hard feelings. tho i do have regrets, and i expressed them honestly to denise. i wish i had seen her before now, have an actual conversation, see her laugh again, hear her speak, ask her things. denise said i shouldn’t. she loves me, she always has had a very special place in her heart where i live, that she wanted and expected me to be off, on my own, finding myself, spreading my wings. that it was no one’s fault that we weren’t as close. that we all do what we can.
that was the thing about maureen and denise and my grandmother and donna that were different: we talked about shit honestly, we didn’t hold back the hard stuff. the emotional experiences of these tragedies we lived within. so i told denise that i felt heartbroken, to tell her how much i value how encouraging and supportive maureen always was of my creativity, my sensitivity. how both of them really saved me through those times. how even before those deaths they were a respite for me. and she explained the last two years to me, and “you know how she is! she’s stubborn. she’s strong, she’s a tough cookie, she’s set in her ways.” the attendants call her queen maureen. exalted, the name card on the window by her bed in her hospice room says.
i didn’t know i was going there to say goodbye. we didn’t know. everything’s accelerated so fast since wednesday apparently. she was in rehab, the thought was she was going to get stronger and be alright, but then, a turn for the worse. of course when we were headed to hospice we knew that meant soon, but not like, any day. denise said one night all of a sudden maureen started saying, “mom, mom! mom, no i’m not ready. i need a jacket, i need my jacket.” and denise said, “nana, no, wait, i need a few days.” end of life care, comfort care.
we got out of the car in front of the hospital, linda and i, linda holding her portable oxygen tank, out of breath from just getting out of the car, waiting for tommy to park and enter together. as we stood there, we saw michelle, maureen’s youngest daughter, approaching. she looked at us and didn’t recognize us at first. then said, “oh my god,” hugged us. said to linda, “i didn’t recognize you. i saw you and was like why is this lady looking at me, wait she looks familiar. how are you feeling? like shit?” linda shrugged. tommy arrived. there was no preparing us. we got up to the hospice floor, i went to the bathroom. i took a deep breath and walked down the hall to maureen’s room.
there really was no preparing. she is so small. she is all bones, loose skin in places, taut skin in places, pale. i can’t quite remember what she looked like, which makes me sad, but i guess is a protective mechanism; she wouldn’t want me to remember her that way anyway. walking in to her was shocking. i tensed up, i felt sick, i felt frightened. it makes me feel sick to say that she, at first, terrified me. but it was the kinda fear that comes with knowledge of how much suffering she was going through, how much pain, how this was the last time i would ever see her. and this was a way i knew she didn’t want to be seen and her seeing me might make her feel more sadness and pain. i sat at the end of her bed on a chair next to lauren, her granddaughter, two years older than me and recently married in spring. maureen almost didn’t make it to her wedding because of her health problems, but, fierce miracle queen that she is, she did. and i remember the pictures from it on facebook, how just three months ago she looked so different, still like herself, tho much smaller and frailer and thinner and more tired.
so delirious through the morphine, out of it, so barely there, in body and spirit. and, yet, it was her and she was alert. glimpses: her hands, her eyes, those moran eyes as everyone always said of my grandmother’s side and their uniform eyes. she looked right into my eyes, my face—recognition and surprise and her own grief, i wanted to know how she was feeling, i didn’t know how to ask, i didn’t know what to say. i felt stupid and like a child who didn’t know what to do, my love felt confused, because i didn’t want to hurt her more, physically or spiritually. i didn’t know what was right. looking in her eyes and denise’s eyes both were like looking into my grandmother’s eyes. she could barely, barely speak. but she said “i haven’t seen you in so long,” and all i could say was i know. it broke my heart, but i know it wasn’t a judgment. i gently rubbed her back, i touched her shoulder. she was trying, straining to speak to me. i can’t even explain what it was like. what she looked like, what she sounded like, how few words were spoken, and yet it felt like a whole conversation. i can’t, i have no reference points. it was so unreal. she wanted to speak, but she couldn’t, she said some things and i understood. mostly i could understand her pain, swimming and restless inside it, the cage of her torturous body. and yet, it was her, and she was beautiful. her hands still gesturing against the bed in the ways i remembered. i sat down and i was drowning in memories of her, drowning in the sound of her laugh. catching up with the moment, that it was almost over and this wasn’t what i thought i was walking into today. loss and regret and confusion. deep deep wells of sorrow.
it is what it is. this is a motto in our lives. the lives in which we lived, for generations, of white poor poverty, surrounded by death, too-early-death, addiction, mental health problems, violence. it is what it is. and the blessing, the silver lining, as we discussed, that maureen is 77. that she outlived so many. in a life of hers peppered by early deaths and loss, people dying in their 30s, 40s, 50s. children dying. losing her dad so young when she was 9, losing her husband so young, losing her sister so young. losing michael and donna, her cousin-nephew, cousin-niece, my uncle and aunt, so young. the silver lining of, yes, all of this she’s experienced now in the last two years has been extreme—complications as a result of a radical treatment for uterine cancer 40 years ago. scar tissue from that radiation is all wrapped and twisted up around her intestines. apparently, since two years ago, it’s just been one problem, one complication, one thing worse than the other. she’s barely been able to eat in two years. she’s had tubes in her. the cancer came back, plus all the other problems. the silver lining being, tho the ill-advised-yet-of-its-time treatment caused excessive and catastrophic damage now, it allowed her to live out a life. to see her children grow up, to have grandchildren, to grow old.
but to see her in such suffering and pain, unfair. i wanted to stay with her forever, i wanted to sit with her, hold her and never let go. but i was also responsible to the people around me, her children, denise, bobby, sharon, michelle, my aunt linda and uncle tommy, and her best friend for 70 years, diane, who i had to move away from maureen so she could sit at her side, holding her hand, stroking her shoulder, whispering, crying.
i decided to leave the house. i started crying as i walked out the door, started walking to sunset park, turned around, to head to greenwood. on my way, i passed DENISE written on the ground, followed by a hopscotch board that only went to 8, the numerological path number of this year for me. like in january when i passed the hopscotch board to 8 in prospect park. i was crying with my black sunglasses covering it all, and then i laughed. denise had told me yesterday that her dad’s side, the madden’s side, had a grave in greenwood right by the entrance to the tunnel. i found it. i found a grave nearby that said GIVEN GRACE.
while i was getting dressed today, black short-shorts and black tank top, i realized i shucked the NYC-always-wear-black-thing my whole life because we were always in mourning in my childhood and i associated it with that. i was tired of death. wakes and funerals and hung heads. i am more grounded and peaceful sitting under the big curving tree that sheltered me from the summer shower a couple weeks ago. i’m sitting close to the edge of the pond. little turtle heads poke up from the surface from time to time. i wrote and i wrote and i cried. i called my best friend of 23 years, i told them everything: the school plan thoughts, how my mother is, the whole story of the day with maureen. i was crying and it was hard. but i wasn’t alone. i’ve known r. since we were five. i thought of maureen and diane, friends since 6 years old.
all day yesterday, from early afternoon to 11:30pm as we were at hospice, i thought about coming home to write through it all. to hold it all, to keep it all, why i don’t know. how i did this in the days immediately after my grandmother’s death, and donna’s. 15 pages, i think, single-spaced, paragraphless stream in lucida handwriting (god why). how, walking the 2 and a half blocks home from school that day, oct 30 2001, with natalia and esther, i felt off, distant, dread. how when we hit the corner of 83rd and 34th, i could see maureen standing in front of grandma’s house and my stomach fell to the floor. i knew. i said, no, i felt myself swirling, sick, drowning. i didn’t wanna cross the street, cross over into whatever was next, as if i could avoid what was already happening, what already happened.
i don’t remember the rest exactly, or i remember things that may have been dramatizations or reenactments, because i have exact visions of scenes i wasn’t there for, my aunt, donna, reclined on the couch sick before they took her to the hospital, monsignor mcguirl upstairs with my grandmother, blessing her. i wasn’t there for these things, they happened in the morning while i was at school. i can’t find what i wrote about it, years later, after the fray of eviction, moving, stuff going missing, etc. i remember i kept the chronicle in a plastic green folder and i would carry it around and re-read it often before it got lost. i guess in order for it all to stay real? like yesterday was unreal. or in order to grieve with myself. that was the thing—the writing of it gave me a place to grieve alone, to not bother anyone, it gave me a place to say everything. and maureen and denise were the ones who held me through grandma’s death, through donna’s, three weeks to the day later on november 20th. my immediate family couldn’t hold me. i was lost with them, i was a ghost. i was their equal. i was alone. i wasn’t alone. everyone, no one. there was me. there was maureen and denise.
when maureen said, as i held her, as i looked at her, “i was surprised to see renée,” as she searched my face and was moving her chapped mouth around, maybe looking for her voice, for something to say, maybe just grimacing or reacting to pain, kinda lightly moaning and humming, her gums and lips kinda pink with dried blood, so chapped. i just held her and asked why she was surprised and she said, “i don’t know. because i haven’t seen you in so long,” and at the time it made me feel so sad, such regret. i could only say “i know, i know.” i held her hand. we held hands, both of them. denise said later when i told her she held my hands that it was really special because it’s hard for her to even gather the strength to do that. it was meaningful. i stroked her back so lightly, would just place my hand on her shoulder, feeling her breathing, feeling her heart. “you’re so good with her,” denise said. i just shrugged, “i love her.” she got restless and said, “i don’t like…” “i need…” and i think she wanted me to move her. so i asked her how, where. her legs. i was honored she trusted me to help her. i asked for denise, but denise said i could do it. we did it together, lifted up her leg, bones, placed pillows between them. i told her i love her so much. i told her i was in red hook the night before, on conover st, “oh you were,” she said. i started telling her about sunny’s bar, but she interrupted me to say who was it just said they were in red hook, she was getting upset that she couldn’t remember, so i asked denise. john and esther, john and esther, i kept saying, trying to assure her because she seemed upset, maybe like she was losing everything.
then i had to move to let diane in, told her i would be back and she said, it’s ok. but i didn’t want to let go of her hands. the glimpses. my name out of her mouth like she always said my name. her beautiful voice.
when i first arrived and first saw her and saw linda touching her and crying, my lips started shaking and i had to walk out, briskly down the hall to the bathroom. tears welling up, but not falling and i felt like i was drowning and i couldn’t breathe and i was pacing around the small cube of the bathroom, and i hit my head against the wall and i slumped down it with my arms over my head, sliding down the wall, helpless. i was dry sobbing and swirling and i looked in the mirror—my lips red and purple and trembling, my chin quivering and that wall of water over my red eyes that wouldn’t break, or only slightly, a few tears. and i remembered all the times in the bathroom at grandma’s as a kid, looking into the mirror and crying, thinking my eyes looked so much more beautiful when i cried, all the hazel variations coming out at once, illuminated. and thinking i looked beautiful now, my eyes and my mouth. i wondered where everyone else was when i was in the bathroom crying alone then, a child.
anyway, maureen dying brings up everyone dying. because we were all there together, she was there and she was so beautifully present and supportive through it all, for everyone, but especially for me. michael, grandma, donna. of course mae, my grandma’s sister, and grandpa, tho i was a toddler. but i remember mae dying. i was her little nurse, i would bring her her pills in the blue pill case and water and i would tuck her in. i always wanted to heal everyone. i had a dream about her the night after she died that i thought was real. i was 3, but i can’t forget it. she came to me. i thought it was a memory, but my mother said it wasn’t, it was a dream. there was an empty gurney in the bedroom, dorothy’s bedroom, that they were caring for her in. there was the sense that she had been in it. but the wind just blew the white sheet around and she wasn’t there, she was released. i saw her in the hallway or i felt her in the hallway, touched by her presence, and i knew she was okay, i could smell her. and i was happy.
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and beyond all that got dredged up, all denise and i spoke of about those deaths, what came after, about the trajectory of my specific family system, my aunts and uncles and how and why they are—new illuminations and puzzle pieces on all sides. things i already knew, but just got confirmed by denise. things denise knew, but got confirmed by me. there was all this, all the pain and all the darkness, but there was also the memories of joy and simple sweetness. there was sitting in the hospice room, maureen asleep, tommy and bobby lying back on the other hospital bed, linda and denise and i sitting against the wall, diane sitting next to maureen, all sharing memories of their childhoods and laughing. and it was the weirdest thing, i could see them all as children in those moments, i saw the youngness in their faces, in their smiles, and i was this adult, younger than them, but somehow older in that moment, somehow watching them through time. and it was beautiful and it was strange and it was sad and it was lovely. and i was grateful to be a part of it, i was grateful to know something about them before it all got so ugly and twisted, or maybe even as it was, for them, as with my life. the kernels of beauty and togetherness amidst the suffering, the hardships. and i thought of who we were before, how we were, the togetherness i so valued that was so crushing when we, when they, lost it. gave up on it or destroyed it. and how through all that, maureen and denise were always so present for me. their house was a safe haven for me, nurturing and loving, a respite. how they held me and listened and how they honored me in my fullness—my talents, my deep sensitivity, my grief. the full realities of my life and our family’s life. how it meant a lot to me when denise said in the hallway, “you didn’t get a childhood, you had to grow up too soon,” and tommy was there and he was just quiet.
i could sense something in him wanted to challenge her on it, but he couldn’t. i also know there’s something that makes it hard for him to challenge me generally. which comes from i don’t know what, respect, or what i’m not sure. but it’s one win for my femmeness over his toxic masculinity. how later, when we were speaking without anyone around she said that even though the way they treated me as an adult, as a therapist, or straight up neglected me/fucked me up, was wrong and inappropriate, i was a gift to them. and it may be hard for me to see it that way, but i have all this material to work from and i can use it to be a gift for other people, too. that i’m a healer. and i was so affirmed in that. and felt seen. and i actually loved being myself, renée, in that space. didn’t want to be anything else, was fully me. some lipstick, some facial hair, obscured breasts, hot pants. just me. i’m not the best example of a trans person out there. i really barely give a shit about anything sometimes because there’s so much else than how i’m seen. it’s so unimportant to me sometimes.
i did think about maureen taking me to see lauren’s lil teen theatre company’s production of west side story, which started up an obsession. i would watch the movie every day and listen to the soundtrack obsessively, as my family fought or negotiated over the house in the background, as everyone unraveled and fell apart. how at the show i told maureen i had a crush on the beautiful boy who played riff. but in my head,too, i wanted to be him. he was probably 16 or 17, i was 13. she was like, “umm… i don’t think he likes girls.” haha, and he came out holding some boy’s hand. which, of course. the first of many beautiful queer boys i couldn’t get anywhere near. and i wanted to be him, but i didn’t know how.
and maureen, the beautiful young mother, as they called her in our family. she had denise at 18. just, the way she talks, the way she would move her hands. her elegance and her grace. the way she says the word “her,” in that lovely old brooklyn way. her hair and the way she smiles and laughs. the portrait of her when she was young that used to hang in her house that i was obsessed with, wanting to be her, wanting to know her then, wanting to someday be with someone as beautiful and kind as her, but not having words for that or knowing what that meant then. not really knowing what it means now either.
#grief#living#family#lineage#history#trauma#love#friendship#femmes#death#dying#mothers#time#hope#change#transitions
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The Women of Luke Cage - WisCon 41 panel write-up
These tend to be long, so click the clicky to read.
Disclaimers:
I hand write these notes and am prone to missing things, skipping things, writing things down wrong, misreading my own handwriting, and making other mistakes. So this is by no means a full transcript.
Corrections, additions, and clarifications are most welcome. I’ve done my best to get people’s pronouns and other identifiers correct, but please do let me know if I’ve messed any up. Corrections and such can be made publicly or privately on any of the sites I’m sharing these write-ups on(tumblr and dreamwidth for full writings, facebook and twitter for links), and I will correct ASAP.
My policy is to identify panelists by the names written in the programming book since that’s what they’ve chosen to be publicly known as. If you’re one of the panelists and would prefer something else - let me know and I’ll change it right away.
For audience comments, I will only say general “audience member” kind of identifier unless the individual requests to be named.
Any personal notes or comments I make will be added in like this [I disagree because blah] - showing this was not part of the panel vs. something like “and then I spoke up and said blah” to show I actually added to the panel at the time.
The Women of Luke Cage
Moderator: Inda Lauryn. Panelists: JP Fairfield, Maria Jackson, De Ana Jones, Krys
#WomenofLukeCage - for the livetweets
Inda started the introductions off with asking the panelists who are their favorite black women characters that they’d liked to see adapted to screen outside of Luke cage.
Krys answered with Monica Rambeau.
De Ana, who said to find her on twitter as @nanicoolj, would love to see any of the women from N. K. Jeminisin’s The Broken Kingdom series, but especially Oree Shoth. [yes please]
Maria, who introduced herself as being on the Nerdgasm Noire podcast with De Ana and JP, answers with Stagecoach Mary.
JP, who told us she is @isitis on twitter, suggested Nubia, Wonder Woman’s sister. She thinks that would be an interesting origin story that would be different from Diana’s.
Inda, who said she can be found on Inda’s Corner podcast, gave Concrete Park’s main character as answer to her question - as a black queer woman who would be great to see on screen.
Inda talked about how she had binged Luke Cage on Saturday night when it came out and when she got to episode 12, she noticed things were getting wonky. When she couldn’t start episode 13, she had a meltdown online with everyone else because so many people were watching at that point that they broke Netflix!!
She discussed how exciting it was to be seeing something we don’t often get to see - so many black characters, and especially black women characters. These characters were all well-rounded and while they had issues and none of them were perfect - they were definitely not one dimensional.
Inda asked the panelists when they realized the black women in this show were not just throw-away characters?
JP referred to a scene in the police station where there were three black women all talking to one another and it was Not about men. They were talking to one another about reasons that were not just a plot device for the male characters.
Maria liked that these characters were not all agreeing with one another, but neither were they fighting.
De Ana talked about seeing all sides of the characters - black women as good, bad, and neutral. Some of them got to be shown being taken care of, Misty was very independent, Mariah was pretty shady but was taken care of by Shades, some parts of these characters were tropey but some weren’t.
Krys talked about the one lady with the sports ring from her dad - even this minor character was treated well and was well-developed.
De Ana said that she is a Misty fan but also liked Claire a lot - she is very pragmatic, lacks that sense of wonder at the people with powers, she just takes charge.
Inda said that Claire got a good intro in the show even if you hadn’t seen her character in the other Netflix series. She has her purse stolen and then kicks the thief’s ass.
Maria talked about how Claire works with these superheroes but doesn’t Need them.
JP said that Claire in Iron Fist got to ask the questions about how stupid Danny is.
Krys agreed about the comments about Claire, but said that Misty really resonated with her. It’s rare to see an analytical detective as a black woman - not a white dude with no social skills who everyone has to put up with because he’s so brilliant. De Ana said - like Sherlock House?
Krys liked the balance Misty showed between the law and her problems with how the system works.
JP wanted to see Claire as Night Nurse. All of this is her journey to becoming that. She also said it’s amazing to have an Afro-Latina confidently taking care of all of these superheroes.
De Ana talked about Misty’s story in the comics and how they start after she’s lost her arm and gets a new one from Tony Stark. There are flashbacks to her cop days, but they have some bad blacksploitation elements to them. She said it’s not Pam Grier, but Beyonce in Austin Powers. In the show, Misty has the same attitude as in the comics, but she’s no longer talking like it’s still 1972.
De Ana also appreciated that Misty recognizes that the law can’t always help her to help Harlem in the ways she wants to as a cop.
JP liked that Misty is allowed to be vulnerable but still strong. De Ana points out that in the comics she is the super strong/super sexy trope. JP said in the show she is a fully realized human and not just one thing.
Inda brought up Priscilla and Betty as law enforcement characters like Misty. They’re cops but we don’t hate them. They have rapport with the other black women on the show.
Maria liked that they were all humanized in how they felt about their neighborhood.
JP discussed how they were all black women working within the system but with different ways of dealing with it. She especially focused on the one on one between Priscilla and Misty about navigating a not-perfect system like - Yes, it’s fucked up but we need you to be here working with us.
Maria said that other cop shows don’t tend to let cops be wrong - all good and right all the time. On this show, they get to make mistakes.
De Ana liked that when things went awry, the show didn’t go to the place of a white man coming in and taking charge and changing it all. Misty has to change, but is still very much needed there.
Inda brought up the Claire/Luke/Misty triangle and said she liked that they don’t fight over a man - instead they have some female bonding over it.
De Ana expressed that her otp is Claire/Misty [I got very excite from the audience - mine is actually Claire/Colleen but I’ll ship these ladies in any formation really]
JP also liked that there was no real competition between Misty and Claire. Misty was basically - I tapped that, and Claire was all - I’m gonna tap that - and they kinda bond over it, and agree that his whole “coffee” thing is corny.
Inda brought up Mariah - she may not be a villain, but yes she is a bad guy.
De Ana liked that all of the characters have motivations for what they do and they’re all doing what they think is right for Harlem. Mariah got into law for that reason and because her grandma didn’t want her to get into crime. There was that respectability politics thing. But Mariah starts to realize that what she was doing wasn’t working so she became more open to doing different things.
Maria said that Mariah is a survivor - not a copy and paste “villain”.
JP related it to upward mobility stories where a family usually uplifts a young black man to be the one to succeed. In this family, it was Mariah who was propped up to be the great hope of the family. Turns out, though, she was more suited to being a crime boss.
Inda asked about the respectability politics in the show, and how most of it comes from Luke, as a preacher’s son. What about how this affects the women on the show?
De Ana answered that it mostly affects Mariah. Misty and Claire are more like “fuck it!”. Mariah has a facade most of the time, but we see her codeswitching when she’s caught out and gets upset.
Inda asked about Luke’s wife Reva’s characterization and how that differs between Luke Cage and Jessica Jones where she’s introduced.
Krys said in LC, it shows that Reva loved Luke as much as he loved her, but that he idealized her - she was complicit in what led to him gaining his powers. We didn’t see that in JJ.
De Ana said that not only is she idealized in JJ, but fridged. In LC, we get to see her as an actual character with flaws, but also that yes there was love there. She was still technically a plot device, but she got to be a full character.
JP wondered if they’d end up showing more of her background and motivations in future seasons. In LC, we see her with the trope of love changing someone’s mind from doing a bad thing - but we still don’t know what her initial motivations were for being part of the experiments.
Inda asked the panelists about any issues they had with the characters.
De Ana said Luke - there’s a specific color of woman that he can love (Jessica, Claire), and another that he’ll mess around with (Misty). She linked this colorism with the respectability politics and his being a preacher’s kid - a particular kind of classism that’s especially found in the south.
An audience member asked for clarification on this and a discussion ensued between some audience members and panelists about how this is something ingrained in black culture since slavery - lighter skinned people being house slaves vs. darker skinned people being field slaves, etc. This kind of colorism is found throughout Afro-diaspora cultures.
Also mentioned was how some churches had a comb outside the door and if you couldn’t get the comb through your hair, you couldn’t come in. Also the paper bag test for black sororities being a very real thing.
In regards to this having to do with Luke being a preacher’s son - preachers have been and continue to be seen as having class access to white political spaces, which leads to the classism/colorism involved in the respectability politics.
JP talked about her perspective as a person of color who doesn’t go to church anymore because part of that church culture is this colorism.
Inda discussed how lighter skin is seen as feminine and darker skin as masculine and how this affects both women and men.
An audience member asked if the casting of these women was purposeful for these reasons, or just Hollywood being Hollywood.
Krys talked about how you rarely see a pair on screen where the woman is the darker of the two.
Inda brought up Shades’ interest in Mariah and what that means to her.
De Ana answered the audience member that the casting was likely unconscious bias.
JP discussed this cultural bias some more. Depending on where she is - she can be seen as either light or dark skinned and when she is seen as light skinned she notices that she is treated a lot better. When she is perceived as darker skinned, she is often mistaken as a service person.
De Ana responded that she is always asked questions in stores - “I don’t work here!”
Maria added that she sometimes finds herself thinking “are you really a nice person, or am I light skinned in this space?”
Inda brought up that Luke Cage season 2 doesn’t come until 2019, and after some discussion of which series get more seasons between now and then says “please tell me Coachella Fist isn’t coming back first?”
De Ana said that she can’t wait for Misty’s new arm.
An audience member brought up Eartha Kitt’s Catwoman as a standard bearer for black female comics characters.
JP said that EK’s Catwoman is what made her want to be a superhero.
Inda talked about how Catwoman was not written as black and how that changed the framing of the character.
There was a lot of raving about EK and Catwoman at this point by both panelists and audience members - I did not get it all down but it was great.
Maria said she wants to see more of Mariah and Shades’ relationship.
Krys said she is looking forward to Claire becoming more Night Nurse-y.
Inda also talked about Mariah and Shades - “they’re fucking.”
JP is concerned about being “Sleepy Hollow-ed”.
De Ana said LC has such a wide spectrum of black femininity that they’d have to kill half the cast in order to do that.
JP emphasized that she appreciated Claire being allowed to be Afro-Latina.
An audience member brought up Star Trek: Discovery and Sonequa Martin-Green [lol I had SMG in my notes here and just got really confused - Sarah Michelle Gellar whaaaa?]. The audience member asked the panelists how they feel about Martin-Green’s character not getting to have natural hair.
What ensued was a lively conversation between both panelists and audience members about how Martin-Green’s character’s background was that she was raised on Vulcan, and then who would be doing her hair, and similar issues with other shows such as Sleepy Hollow and if the Mills sisters are the only black people in town - how is their hair getting done, etc. It was fantastic, but again, I did not get it all down quote-for-quote.
An audience member asked about Defenders - who else do the panelists want in there and are there are any concerns about how they characters will be treated?
JP said she’d love to have Misty join the Defenders because she’s such a badass. Also Colleen from Iron Fist (the only reason to watch IF).
Krys agreed and added that Misty and Colleen are Daughters of the Dragon together in the comics.
One audience member said that they loved Mariah for her complexity. But there were issues around the whole sexual assault storyline - not particularly well done.
JP agreed but said she feels mixed about it. There was the whole open secret aspect of the abuse and the show didn’t address that responsibly. But she liked that the grandma said he had to die for what he did. On the other hand, no one got Mariah any help for what she went through.
De Ana thought the show was trying to show the reality of a complex situation. She liked that they didn’t have to show the assault happening for the audience to believe it. Also grandma believed her right away.
JP discussed the problem with Cottonmouth being pushed to shoot and kill his uncle. There is an issue in black culture of men not wanting to vilify abusers.
De Ana added that there are a lot of complex issues in these short flashbacks. Cottonmouth’s storyline is about toxic masculinity - he was pushed into doing this violent thing. It makes you understand and feel for both him and Mariah. It’s complex and the show lets it be complex.
Inda talked about the trope of an older black woman putting a gun into a young black man’s hands - The Get Down had a scene like that too.
An audience member brought up the fact that Cottonmouth didn’t want to kill his uncle because he was the only one in the family being supportive of him. They liked when Mariah beat Cottonmouth up, but not necessarily when she killed him.
Another audience member who acknowledged they were way out of their lane added that they liked the depiction of Mariah still living out that trauma. It shows how it’s still affecting her.
Someone else from the audience discussed Shades and how Mariah’s abuse storyline was used to make her softer so he could come in and save her.
De Ana said Shades is Mariah’s “Supportive Murder Boyfriend”. Much hilarity ensued from this comment.
An audience member talked about how in the comics Mariah was a fat black woman in charge. The only other fat black woman from comics depicted on screen was Amanda Waller, who is similarly made skinny in both Suicide Squad and on Arrow.
Maria talked about her conflicted feelings on the great actresses cast for these roles - but they’re not fat. All of the panelists basically agree on this topic - with some acknowledging it’s not really their lane but, as De Ana stated “fuck these skinny bitches”.
Krys emphasized - in a world with all of this unrealistic stuff - we can’t have a fat black woman?!
Inda posed the question of if Mariah had been cast with a fat actress - would she have been characterized the same? General acknowledgement that there’s not faith that the writer’s room would have done well with that.
An audience member said they think there is an over-representation of fat black women.
De Ana answered that yes, but only in a specific tropey sassy black woman way.
Inda emphasized that Mariah got to be sexualized.
Krys added that it was more like she had the agency to BE sexy - not hypersexualized or nonsexualized.
An audience member brought up how Claire is a woc in STEM.
Krys said, as someone in STEM herself, she thinks it’s great. Claire gets to have authority.
JP, also in STEM, added that her authority is not questioned or squashed. It was validating to watch a white dude decide to step back and let Claire do her thing.
An audience member said they want T’challa to make Misty’s arm, not Stark. Everyone agreed and cheered for this idea and that was the end of a great panel!
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