#also god bill is such a self insert that king keeps going on about how cool he is and it's masturbatory af

[mctives]

ooc // what if stephen king let beverly marsh be a character instead of a sexual awakening for every male character???

[dear-wormwoods]

I'm just curious can you list the losers club from your favorite to least favorite and explain why

Ohhh this is so hard and here’s why: Richie and Eddie are constantly rotating who is in the top spot depending on like... my mood, or what I’m thinking or writing about the most. I know that probably comes as a surprise given that most of my meta is so Eddie focused? But god I just love Richie so much. It’s a head vs. heart thing with them, honestly. A year ago I would’ve absolutely said Eddie first because I was constantly churning out meta about him, but RIGHT AT THIS MOMENT the order is:

1. Richie. Gonna go with my heart on this one - I have a big giant weakness for funny-charming characters/people, so Richie has always been like, the “if I was gonna marry one of the Losers” choice since I first read the book in high school. And Richie has so much depth, but you have to really read between the lines to find it, so his chapters are fun in that way, too. I love him for the same reasons Eddie does - his “sometimes enchanting, sometimes exhausting charm”, his ambition, his willingness to go with the flow, his devotion to his friends, his intelligence, his fascination with music and theatrics, and also the way he’s just sort of an enigma. And then obviously Bill Hader, a long-time celebrity crush, had to come along and fulfill my wildest dreams by taking the role and pouring his soul into it. Lastly, in terms of writing, I have the most fun writing Richie. I write Eddie’s POV a lot more (on the rare occasions I write fic) because it comes more naturally, but I actually get the most fulfillment from writing Richie.

2. Eddie. If my heart belongs to Richie, my brain belongs to Eddie. I have spent countless hours analyzing every god damn word in his chapters and I think about him nearly constantly. He’s always been the Loser I relate to the most, but not because of his home life or anything (my parents are actually a lot like Richie’s - my dad is hilarious and my mom is just great, but as a kid/teen they didn’t get me at all because I turned out way weirder and more annoying than they anticipated and it was a Struggle to communicate lmao). Anyway, I relate to Eddie’s personality a lot, and just how his brain works. I too am always stuck in my own head, emotional and overly self-critical, historically reluctant to take risks because it’s safer to be stagnant, will bend over backwards to take care of other people to the point of not doing anything for myself because of codependent tendencies, etc etc. Analyzing Eddie gives me a lot of intellectual fulfillment and also helps me reflect on myself. This is why I refuse to baby him and try to explore and examine his flaws and mistakes. He’s the most complex character in the story and inherently so Brave and Good. (sidenote: I hate saying really positive things right after saying that I relate to him because it feels arrogant and like I’m saying that about myself, too, which I’m definitely not. Does anyone else get like that? Like, you relate to a character and openly praise them, but then feel like a giant asshole because you inadvertently said something nice about yourself by loving on a character you relate to?)

3. Ben. I love reading Ben’s chapters so much, he’s such a well-developed character and I feel his chapters are almost on par with Eddie’s in terms of being a joy to read and having a very distinct tone. If Eddie’s the guiding light of the group, Ben is the engineer. He has this sort of deep and natural self-confidence that I love. He’s got his hobbies, his books, and he’s just chillin’. He’s very self conscious about his body, but he’s SO confident about his mind and his heart. I’ve always found it fascinating that Ben’s IT manifestations are so impersonal and very typical movie-monster type shit, and I think it’s because he really doesn’t fear much. He doesn’t need to. He knows what he’s capable of and he doesn’t stop to ruminate about it, he just fucking does it. IT can’t really touch that. Also, as Richie’s mirror, he automatically gets a high spot on the list - we stan wildly successful but deeply lonely guys who spent their youth pining in secret.

4. Mike. I know a lot of people find the Derry Interludes boring, but I really love being able to dive into Mike’s stream of consciousness journal keeping. He’s truly the lighthouse keeper, and that’s a rough fucking gig. His love of lore and history is so relatable, though. And I love his relationship with his parents, especially with Will, and it’s great to have a prominent example of positive parenting to combat against the likes of Sonia, Alvin, and Butch Bowers. Mike really loves his parents and the Losers, and he’s so smart and sensitive and GOOD, even in the face of near-constant racism and 27 years of exhausting and lonely detective work. My only wish for him is to fucking leave Derry and finally relax.

5. Bev. I really love Bev, but she’s lower on the list because I find her to be a pretty underdeveloped character in the novel. This is mostly because Stephen King truly sucks at writing women, but knowing that doesn’t stop me from just not feeling super engaged with her chapters. In theory, Bev is great - and she was/will be great in the movies, too. She’s Eddie’s mirror, so admittedly a lot of my affection for her stems from that and the joy I get from examining their parallels (particularly in terms of how IT targets them both with their sexuality and dirtiness/cleanliness).

6. Bill. I have never really been super invested in Bill. It’s just like... too glaringly obvious that he’s a self-insert for Stephen King, so he falls flat a lot of the time, for me. Sometimes I like to think that’s intentional, because we get so much of seeing Bill through the Losers’ eyes with all their idolization and projection, so the “real Bill” never really stood a chance of living up to that image. Other times all I see is a self-insert. But I do really love the way his guilt over Georgie’s death is explored and how that guilt leads him to be selfishly single-minded in his quest for vengeance. I just wish more time was spent on that in his adult chapters and less on that cringey hotel sex scene.

7. Stan. Stan is last but I certainly don’t dislike him. It’s just... I’m really sorry but I think Stan is a super overrated character. I love his scene with the Standpipe and the drowned kids, and I think his friendships with Eddie and Bev are not given enough attention, and I love Stanpat, but overall... I just don’t think about him all that much. I’m really only able to get invested in Stan if it’s in relation to Patty. They just wanted a baby and a happy life, Mike.

This turned into such a fucking ramble. Hopefully it’s what you were looking for! 😬

[stina-is-a-punk-rocker]

stephen king’s ‘it’: a rant-review

Alternatively titled: an almost verbatim account of the 12-page rant I wrote in my diary after being driven to a catatonic rage by the 1100+ page monstrosity that was IT.

WARNINGS: spoilers, blood and gore, violence and general icky stuff, death, suicide, demeaning descriptions of women, both adults and underage, mentions of child pornography, my two brain cells trying to make me sense of this damn book

I fell in hate with IT the way you fall asleep; slowly, then all at once. The beginning reeled me in- it was great, that perfect first sentence all writers strive for- it’s got a compelling start, and it gradually gathers momentum onwards. The writing’s good, nice diction, nice use of words, a bit too much exposition, but what’s a few hundred more pages of ultimately worthless crap if it keeps you engaged?

And then it starts to go downhill.

The book’s too long. I got really, really bored by around page 800, because the book was dragging on for way too long and there was no sign of it ending anytime soon. There’s so much extra crap you could’ve straight up cut out from the story and it wouldn’t’ve made any difference to the final outcome.

The back-and-forth between the past (1957) and the present (1985) was pretty interesting- I much preferred the past accounts to the present ones, admittedly.

There’s a fuckload of characters the book could’ve done without. Way too many people my lizard brain couldn’t keep track of; yeah, sure, you can include the people Pennywise made a meal of by name- but you could easily lop off a few pages’ worth descriptions of characters that don’t play a bigger role than becoming clown chow in the course of the story.

The Losers are pretty much your everyday group of misfits: you’ve got the ringleader William ‘Stuttering Bill’ Denbrough, Stan Uris, Richie Tozier, Ben Hanscom, Eddie Kaspbrak, Beverly Marsh and Mike Hanlon- alias the self-insert, the Jew, the guy who makes offensive jokes but gets away with it because ‘that’s just the way he is!’, one of the few characters in this entire book that I don’t want to punch the living daylights out of, the hypochondriac, the tiddies and the black guy.

It’s painfully obvious that Bill’s a self-insert. Everyone and their grandma know that the moment there’s a character in a book who’s an author, they’re going to be the self-insert. Middle-aged cis het white male author? Now, whoever could that possibly be based upon, Mr. King?

And hey, despite all my mediocrity, I’m guilty of doing the same. I’ll write a story about someone who likes to write, and then suddenly the character’s a woman with dark hair and brown eyes and horrible myopia.

And yet, there’s something about Bill that makes it impossible for me to like him. I liked him well enough as a kid; he had a very Peter Pan role with the rest of the lost boys + person with boobs, and everything he did was a bit too perfect (because Big Bill- yes, they really called him that- had ALL the answers) for me, but I’m willing to let that slide.

(I’m not, I’m really not. Please give me flawed characters, not Characters with One Singular Flaw Who Do Everything Else Perfectly.)

I don’t think calling Bill a Mary Sue would be too far of a stretch. Also, he cheated on his wife with Beverly- big surprise there, I called it way before it happened- and characters who cheat will never be redeemable for me.

And then we have Stanley Uris. It’s been a couple of months since I last read IT and I’ve already forgotten what greater purpose Stan served for the story. I might be wrong- remember, lizard brain, goldfish memory- but I honest to god cannot, for the life of me, remember what Stan meant for the plot. Except, well, to die a couple pages in.

(According to my quick Google search, his suicide was sacrificial. As a wise woman once said, “Wait… what.”)

Richie’s actually not a character I hate, despite what I said about him. He’s comic relief for the most part at the beginning, and there are loads of things he says that would immediately cause #RichieTozierIsOverParty to trend on Twitter had he existed in 2020, but he’s an interesting character all the same. He’s got some amount of depth to him, more personality outside of being just another kid who encountered Pennywise.

I have a soft spot for Ben, I’ll admit. I’ve been the Designated Ugly Fat Friend of every friend group I’ve been in, so maybe I’m a bit biased, but I find him a lot more likable than a lot of the other characters I encountered in the book.

About Eddie, I’m not actually sure what there is to write. I remember more about him than I do about poor Stan, but aside from Eddie marrying a woman who’s a caricature of his overprotective mother, there’s not much that comes to mind. I’ve heard that Eddie and Richie had some #moments- my dumbass didn’t notice while reading, I’ve read IT only once and I’m awful at reading between the lines- though the boys more or less ogled Beverly all the damn time (poor girl couldn’t even wear a pair of shorts, but I’ll get to her later) so I hadn’t really considered the possibility of them being anything other than Raging Heterosexuals.

Beverly is straight out of r/menwritingwomen- if I took a shot every time her breasts were brought up, I’d have passed out midway through the book. I find it interesting (no, I don’t, I find it demeaning) how every time there’s a female lead with ‘flaming red hair’ in a group with mostly men, she’s described as this fierce, bold, brave Bad Bitch whose actual Badness doesn’t get half as much as screen time as her boobs. And I get that Beverly’s attractive, you don’t have to constantly remind us that BEVERLY MARSH IS FUCKING HOT OKAY GET THAT IN YOUR HEAD SHE’S A GODDAMN SEX SYMBOL WITH HER FIERY HAIR AND VIRIDESCENT ORBS AND GIGANTIC ASS AND BOOBS SO BIG THEY MIGHT AS WELL BE CALLED UDDERS SHE’S THE HOTTEST WOMAN YOU CAN IMAGINE ONLY LIKE A GAZILLION TIMES HOTTER DON’T YOU DARE FORGET THAT BEVERLY MARSH IS HOT (DON’T FORGET THE GIGANTIC BOOBS).

I think we got that the first time around.

And the constant sexualization isn’t just adult Beverly. As if every man in her vicinity staring at her wasn’t enough to drive the point home, we are treated to delights the likes of eleven-year-old (!) Beverly’s ‘budding breasts’; ‘milky white skin of her flat stomach’; ‘her long, coltish legs’; ‘shorts barely long enough to cover her panties’ (which were yellow, in case you were wondering about the underwear choice of a literal child); amongst other lovely descriptions of someone who literally just passed the fifth grade. She’s sexualized by her own father, and I know those things happen in the real world, but what with all the sexualization we already have of Beverly, it doesn’t sit right with me. I think it’s just creepy and unnecessary.

Also, cis woman to cis woman out here, but those ‘sweet pains of womanhood’, am I right?

Mike’s the final one in the trinity of Losers I don’t hate with burning passion/completely forgot about. The fact that he has such a big role in the story but we don’t meet him properly until we’re hundreds of pages in confused me, but he’s an okay enough guy. He didn’t seem like too much of a Token to me, but maybe I missed it. His backstory’s pretty interesting, too. I would’ve preferred him as a main character- his interludes, though unnecessary and adding more weight to an already obese book, were intriguing- and I liked him better than Bill, sue me.

And then we have the Big Bad, Pennywise the Dancing Clown, It, whatever the fuck it is. After all the terror, the Teenage Werewolf, the Crawling Eye, finding out that ‘It’ was essentially a pregnant, mutant Aragog… I can’t be the only one who went, “That’s it? That’s It?”

After Pennywise being Its most common form, it was jaunting, but in a bad way, to find out that It was just some Daddy (Mommy?) Long Legs who was Fucking Shit Up. An invertebrate, a measly invertebrate, was Its ‘Earth Form’? Was there some symbolism, some subtext there that I missed before Pennywise embodied the spirit of the Other Mother from fucking Coraline?

Apparently not, according to yet another one of my quick Google searches. I tried to see if there was any sort of hidden meaning behind the cosmic clusterfuck in IT, but came up short. Maybe I watched too much BEN 10 in my Youth for aliens to scare me.

I’m gonna get really nitpicky here, but: judging by the huge fern forests the kids saw during the arrival of It, It must have arrived at some point in the Paleozoic Era. To my understanding, It is essentially a Boggart-Dementor hybrid; It manifests into your fears and feeds on that. But humans didn’t appear until the Cenozoic Era, if my memory serves me correct. How did It survive until then? Does It have the ability to feed off of animals and their fears? So many questions, Mr. King, and so little answers.

Pennywise was sinister enough as a killer clown. Giving It a completely different ‘final form’ was unnecessary. No one cares, Mr. King, just finish the damn book. Some ideas are best left unwritten.

Henry Bowers was genuinely one of the best-written antagonists I’ve ever read about. He evoked a visceral rage within me, but I was also downright terrified whenever he popped up, because that motherfucker was unhinged. He was even better of a villain than It, because It killed to survive. Henry was insane.

Also, Mr. King, too much blood. He really dumped it in bucketloads- the first few times were scary, but afterwards, whenever ‘dripping blood’, ‘pools of blood’, etc. came up, it felt contrived and like a tacky fairground horror house.

The Losers’ final battles with It (both as children and as adults) confused me. Maybe I’m too much of a simple-minded fool because some of that cosmic galactic science-fiction bullshit went right over my head. And I don’t mean grazing the top of my hair, I mean several thousand miles above it.

I won’t go too deep into it because I’m still not sure what happened exactly, but it came off like a last-minute addition to the book, because it just doesn’t fit in with the mood of the rest of the story. At most, I expected some contrived demonic exorcist bullshit on par with The Conjuring films- instead, I got some weird outer space (?) opera. I’m confused too, dude, but let’s just roll with it.

I didn’t get the metaphorical tongue-biting; I could only imagine a repulsive French kiss. Who the fuck was the turtle? Why did it choke on its own vomit? What were the deadlights? What the fuck went on in those last few scenes? Am I just stupid- don’t answer that.

And then we have The Scene. The biggest fucking yikes I’ve ever yiked. I’ve read my fair share of fanfiction with scenes of questionable morality, but this was just… ugh.

It’s child pornography, that’s all there is to it. I refuse to believe that Stephen King ‘didn’t think too much of it’ while writing, and I’m disgusted by people who say, ‘it’s just one scene, it’s not a big deal’. That’s easily the worst thing I’ve ever read in a published book, and it amazes me I the worst kind of way when I see people who think it’s excusable. It’s not, it’s really not.

For the people I’ve seen arguing that ‘it’s just a couple of paragraphs’… that doesn’t erase the fact that it happened. You might argue that it has some deep metaphorical connotations about ‘the Losers growing up’ and ‘Beverly taking her sexuality into her own hands’… they’re eleven, you cunt. They’re literal fucking children. Sure, they’ve been through crap no one, not even adults, have been through. And that sucks. But how does that justify an orgy between ELEVEN YEAR OLDS?

And we get a nice little tidbit about the boys’ dick sizes; thank you, Mr. King, I really wanted to know which fifth grader had the biggest penis. The constant sexualization of child-Beverly was bad enough without that scene- that was just the nail in the coffin.

To sum it up: the writing’s good, the pacing’s geriatric, the characters are horrible, the story’s meh, and I’ll probably never read it unless I’m at gunpoint. On second thought, maybe not even then. Stephen King can suck my dick.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Reflections, 20 years Later, on A Declaration of the Independence of Cyberspace #1yrago

John Perry Barlow:

Does Cyberspace Exist? Is It Free?

Twenty years ago tonight, I was at a staff party for the closing of the World Economic Forum, lured there by a coven of the contemporary geishas that staffed the Forum in those days, composed largely of doctoral students in Foreign Affairs at the University of Geneva. But I had also agreed to write something about that moment for a book called 24 Hours in Cyberspace. This was a slightly silly proposition, given that it was largely a book of photographs, and a photograph has yet to be taken of anything in Cyberspace.

But one of the photographs destined for the book was taken on a primitive digital camera by Tipper Gore as Bill Clinton signed into law the Communications Decency Act, a wholly futile piece of legislation that proposed at $250,000 fine on anyone uttering online any of seven words I have never failed to hear every time I was a guest in the Senate Members Dining Room.

The bill was a sweeping assertion of powers that were unconstitutional in the U.S. and utterly without legal basis anywhere else in the world.

So, facing a deadline, and filled with a gathering sense of indignation not only at the Communications Decency Act, but at the many bland assertions I’d heard at the WEF about regulating and controlling the Internet, I decided to write a manifesto declaring the natural anti- sovereignty of the global social space I had started calling Cyberspace seven years earlier.

Like the people in Congress who had passed the Communications Decency Act, few of the powerful men at the WEF had ever been online or had much interest in getting there. They had secretaries who typed. It wasn’t just that they were clueless about the Internet. They were dynamically anti-clueful and took it as a badge of honor. 1996 was the first year the Internet became a topic of interest at the WEF and they’d brought in a few wired types like myself, mostly as curiosities and certainly as part of the entertainment. Dancing bears would have been cheaper and probably more entertaining.

So I had few illusions about how many representatives of the Powers that Had Been were going to quake at any broadside I might write at that moment. But that wasn’t why I wanted to write it. I wanted to write it because it needed to be said, whether anyone from the “weary giants” ever read or understood it.

So I decided, in the middle of this fabulous, glittering party, that I would use the opportunity to declare – on my own authority, representing no one but myself – my conviction that Cyberspace, the fast-blooming organism of all connected thought, was already free and already independent. It was not a freedom we had to wrest from some King. It was a freedom we’d had all along, based on the simple lack of enforceable jurisdiction and the inherently open architectural design of the Internet.

What I felt compelled to declare was pretty simple really.

First, I wanted to declare that no government, neither ours nor Saudi Arabia’s, had the authority, much less the ability to tell the “people of Cyberspace,” that global constituency who already identified with the design, creation, and defense of the still larval Internet, what they might express online. Even in those many parts of the world that didn’t share America’s purported values regarding freedom of expression, privacy, prior restraint, unreasonable search and seizure, etc. there were still not many who were ready to cede to the United States such moral authority without legal standing.

Second, I wanted to make clear my belief that Authority, heretofore God-given down a long white column with the Almighty on top and you on the bottom, was about become something that could only be derived from a horizontally networked consensus, since in most cases there’d be no practical way to impose it hierarchically.

I admit that, coming from Wyoming, where unwritten social contracts seem to work pretty well, I was susceptible to the view that in the absence of credible law, such “organic” methods of self-regulation of might develop in the online world. To some degree, they have. In most ways, they have not. As the entire Human Race came online, including the very worst of us, it was naïve of me to think that the Russian Mob (or the Russian Government, for that matter) was going to have much truck with consensus systems aimed at the commonweal.

But it was late, I was in a hurry, and there always seemed to be a pretty girl next to me pouring another glass of champagne. So I wrote a number of things I might not have written in a cold, gray dawn. This probably also accounts for my decision to imitate the grandiloquent literary style of a notorious slave-holder like Thomas Jefferson. (For which I took endless grief from Post-Modernists all over Europe.)

Third, I felt a need to make clear that the whole notion one could own free speech was going to be very hard to perpetuate in any environment where anybody could perfectly reproduce anything humans make with their minds and distribute it infinitely at zero cost. Since the desire to share cool stuff is a human impulse just this side of sex, it didn’t seem likely to me that harsh laws, all of them local, were going to keep people from sharing everything from songs to mathematical theorems across Cyberspace. And I could see that the primary tool of censorship was going to be copyright law and not such stalking horses as kiddy porn and terrorism.

As I wrote the piece between dances, I received substantive help from Mike Nelson, which was ironic in that Mike was at the time the Clinton Administration’s Main Man on Internet matters. Finally, he was getting a chance to support me rather than debate me over positions with which he secretly agreed.

Eventually, I just hit “send” and dispatched the piece to the editors of 24 Hours in Cyberspace (who found it too controversial to include in their coffee table book). In addition, I sent it out the next day to the 600 or so friends I had with e-mail addresses.

And then I had my first experience with online virality. With a couple of days I was receiving supportive e-mails by the megabyte from all over the planet. At the end of a month, it appeared, using the primitive tools of the day, to be on at least 10,000 Internet sites. I had apparently spoken for somebody.

And then my Declaration largely faded from general consciousness, though it has been perennially fashionable for representatives of the Old Order to trot it out as an example of the sort of wooly- headed hippie thinking we could entertain in more innocent times, but certainly not now with all these Boogie Men cavorting online, whether ISIL, Pirate Bay, Anonymous, and leakers of all sorts. Most of the excellent personages who hold it up for ridicule have either not read it or still failed to understand it when they did. And thus they might be forgiven for not knowing what it said.

Or checking it for accuracy. And while there were things I might have done differently had I thought I was going have to defend it to the end of my days, nonetheless, I will stand by it still.

I do not believe that the Nation State, for all its efforts to bring the Net to heel, has really succeeded.

It is still the case that if one is reasonably savvy technically, he or she can express whatever they wish without fear of reprisal. But what about China, you will sputter? Well, in my experience, the actual relationship between China and the Internet is much more nuanced and complex than appears through our media. The Chinese government isn’t stupid. They don’t want to deny their smartest people access to our smartest people, even as they attempt to insert enough “capacitance” into their version of the Internet to prevent the formation of another Great Cultural Revolution online.

What about NSA surveillance, you ask? Given that even the NSA is now calling for more powerful and generalized use of encryption to protect American systems from foreign mischief. And the State Department is one of the most effective proponents of distributing tools to assure anonymity to dissidents in the Middle East and elsewhere.

Actually, things have turned out rather as I expected they might 20 years ago. The War between the Control Freaks and the Forces of Open-ness, whether of code, government, or expression, remains the same dead heat it’s been stuck on all these years.

Which is enough to make me believe that my vision of an Internet that will one day convey to every human mind the Right to Know all that curiosity might propel them toward, a “world where anyone, anywhere may express his or her beliefs, no matter how singular, without fear of being coerced into silence or conformity.”

Please read A Declaration of the Independence of Cyberspace, and judge for yourself. It holds up.

https://boingboing.net/2016/02/08/reflections-20-years-later-o.html