#also. i played baptiste for the first time today. he is so much fun and his kit lets me play in a rlly fun playstyle which i love

[perilegs]

idk anything about ramattra but i think it's enough to be voiced by ramon tikaram & have someone playing him say thanks in game for me to fall in love

[dailyaudiobiblechronological]

10/1/22 DAB Chronological Transcription

Luke 1 and John 1:1-14

Welcome to the Daily Audio Bible Chronological. I'm China. Today is the first day of October. Welcome. So great to be here with you today. Wow. Here we are, October. We are entering into into the 10th month together. We don't have too many more to go and we are jumping into the New Testament today. I'm so excited you made it. You finished the Old Testament. And ten months later, here we are today. We are in the book of Luke. We are in chapter one, and we are also in the book of John. This is the fun part of reading chronologically, especially the Gospels, because we will jump around and you'll hear maybe the same story twice, if not three or four times in a single day. So we're in John 1, 1-14 and we finish off with the Good News translation for this week.

Commentary:

And so we have begun to read the New Testament. And one of my favorite stories is read today, the story where Elizabeth and Zechariah are told through an angel, through Gabriel, that Elizabeth is going to conceive a son. And I'm like, reminded of the story back with Abram and Sarah. And an angel comes and visits Abram and he tells him this time next year, Sarai is going to conceive. And Sarai laughs. Angel is like, why did you laugh? He's like, no, I didn't. He's like, yeah, you did. So that story almost feels similar here, except for the fact that Zechariah didn't believe, like he had questioned. And there's a part of me that's like, okay, well, time out. Sarai I had issues with... I don't know if it was issues, but she had a hard time believing and then she lied about laughing, and yet she wasn't punished with silence for 9-10 months. But Zachary was. And there must have been more going on in his heart than we were led on to believe. Maybe. I'm not sure. But what I do know is this story really shows me that when the Lord is asking of us of something or even just giving us a blessing, giving us something, and our heart posture is yay or nay or questions or whatever it is, but not to have the doubts and not to have the Lord, how I'm this old. My wife is this old. This hasn't happened for us. I'm not really sure you have the right person to actually have faith and to believe in what the Lord is saying, especially through his servants, his angels, because that all plays a huge role. It wasn't that the Lord was like, okay, Zechariah, actually I'm going to show you that I'm the Lord, and I will make sure that you never have killed her. And I'll make sure that your name ends with you and that there will be no more whoever come from you. Actually, it was John the Baptist. Like, this is who we're reading about. These are his parents. This was bigger than Zechariah, was bigger than his questions and his doubts. This was bigger than him. And so the Lord closes his mouth for at least nine to ten months. That's how long pregnancy is. And that's a really long time to not speak. A really long time. And if anything, it probably taught him how to listen and taught him how to really think before he speaks. And then we see that the way that he gets his voice back is by defending his son and defending his wife and saying, no, his name is John. And I love that story because it just shows one just trust the Lord have. I would like faith. Of course, it's easier said than done. But then also just realizing that it's not just about us, it's not just about you. There's so much more that's going to come from that. There was no way that Zekariah would know that. But we know that we see John. He's born now, and Jesus is coming up right behind him, just about three or four months behind him.

Prayer:

Father, I thank you for your word. And I thank you that we are reading about your son and reading about the honest and messy people who gave you their hearts and who were pioneers and trailblazers for something that they were totally walking in blind trust and blindfold walking in territory that had never even been guessed before. And I thank you for that. I thank you for their lives, I thank you for their story. Because ultimately, we beneficiate, we benefit. We benefit from that all these years later. And so. God. I pray that as we read stories of humility and whether it was they chose humility or they were humbled. God. I pray that our hearts would be open. Our eyes would be opened. And they would be ready to receive what it is that you have for us and that your Holy Spirit would lovingly come and convict our hearts and show us where we can grow with you. And it's in your name we pray. Amen.

Announcements:

Dailyaudiobible.com is our website. That's the place of connections where you can see what's happening here in the community. So be sure to check that out if you have things that we as a community can come alongside of you and lift you up and encourage you right over you. And it's one of my favorite things about this community because there's just nothing else like it, and I'm so grateful for it. And I have been recently on the other side of that. And so if that's you, you can call on 800-583-2164. That is all for today. I'm China. I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Community Prayer Line:

Hello. This is Dawn from Ohio. I'm calling in today to ask for prayers for a sister in Christ at my church. Her name is Dawn as well, and about a week ago, her 31 year old son committed suicide. So I ask that you guys pray for her and her family as they go through this tragedy. And so, dear Lord in heaven, dear Jesus, thank you so much, Lord, for who you are. And Lord Jesus, I just pray for dawn and her family, her husband and her children, grandmother's and grandfather's, family and friends, lord Jesus, for your special compassion and healing, Lord, over this family during this very difficult time. Lord Jesus, your word says that you're close to the brokenhearted. And, Lord, right now, I just pray that they would just feel the enormous, wonderful, compassionate love of Jesus around them as they navigate this time. Lord, be with the family, help them through their grief. And Lord, help brothers and sisters in Christ come alongside of them and support them through this very difficult time. In Jesus name I pray. Amen.

Hi, Callysa in Oregon, this is Diana from Texas, and I'm out walking on September 25 in the morning on Sunday, and I heard you and your heartbreak just comes through. And what I wanted to say to you is you are a child of God. You don't have to prove that you can be a good mother. You just have to be you. So I want you to know that I'll be praying for you and your husband.

Good day, my family. I would just like to call in and respond to the lady that called in and was speaking of how God's mercy and love and faithfulness came through for Shadrach, Mishak and Abendigo. And if he will do it for them, he most certainly will do it for us. But she seemed like she was busy. She was putting dishes away, possibly, or straightening her desk, or you could hear some background noise. And I loved it. Loved it. I so often want to call in, but I don't, because the background is not perfect at the moment that I'm wanting to pray for somebody out loud, so I do it in my car, and that seems to be the perfect place for me. But sometimes you can hear the blinker in the background, and I can honestly say I feel bad that you can even hear that. So today she reassured me that we can just pray. Whenever we pick up our phone, we can start praying for those. And I want to say I'm praying today for Jill, jill's illness that she is experiencing. And I pray and pray that God's glory to shine through this as she continues to read, and I pray for China's family to get well. And thank you, lady that called in. That was busy, because I'm calling from my bathroom, and I've never done that before because I think it's echoey. China called from Israel when she was in Israel. I think it was the first year that she made the DABC, and she was calling from the bathroom. So. Thank you, Jesus. Amen.

Rory from Ohio. This is Adrian, His Mighty Tortoise from Maryland. No prayer is too small for us. No prayer request is too small for us. We'll pray. No prayer is too small for God. He cares about everything and trust me, he gets everything from me. I pray all day long about the smallest things. So it's okay. It's okay. You ask for prayer. That's what we're here for. I hope that God will help you. And I know that God will restrain from watching the episodes that you're not supposed to be watching until you watch with your mom. She is such an important part of your life and I know that you know that and I know that you respect her and you love her and you know how important it is to watch those episodes with her and hopefully that will help you also to hold off and wait for your mom. But it's also okay to be human, which I'm incredibly human, so I would be right there with you, honestly. Oh yeah, okay. But anyway, but I'm the one who I don't have a TV anymore. I gave up the TV when my husband died four and a half years ago, so I can't talk about anything like that anymore. But anyway, hang in there. Hold on, Roy. It's going to be okay. Trust God. Ask for prayer. Yes, it's okay. It's a small thing, but it's big to you and it makes it big to us and it makes it big to God. We love you. Your friend, Adrian from Maryland.

Hello. This is Penny One. Penny Safe from Southwest, Missouri. And I'm calling in for Roy from Ohio. I understand the whole addiction thing because God has delivered me from so many addictions that popped up in so many different ways. I would beat one just to get another. So basically I was using my willpower, not the spirit of self control, not the fruit of self control, and you have it. If we have Jesus within us, we do have self control. We just need to get it out and use it. And you have used it, Roy, so I know you can use it again so that you can hold off on watching those episodes. And you said it was a small thing, but now it's not. Anything that beats us in any way is a big thing. So I'm praying, dear God, help him to have or use the self control that he already has within him so that he can hold off and watching these episodes so that he and his mom can experience this joy together and that he will have peace of mind. And I'm also praying for your Aunt Cookie and I will continue to pray for her and God will be glorified in all of these prayer requests as they are answered. We love you.

Good morning. DABC Community. This is Kristen in Louisiana and I am calling in to just lift up Jill in China and China's family to you, Father. I pray that you just provide them with a quick recovery, Lord, and just full restoration to their health, Father. Thank you for Jill's obedience, Lord, and continuing to share your word with us every day, despite the facial paralysis that she's working her way through right now, Father. So I just pray that you bless her obedience, Father, and her faithfulness to you, Lord, and just hold her close to you right now in her time of need, Lord, in China and her family as well as they're recovering. And Lord, also lift up Tamara and her friend that she called in to pray for, Lord, that's experienced a sexual assault from somebody that I'm sure she thought that she could trust and that she was safe with, Lord. So I just pray that you pull her close to you. Lord. As she's navigating what to do next and processing everything that's happened to her. Lord. And I thank you for her friend Tamara. Father. That you will just strengthen their relationship, Lord. And let her friend know that she's got a listening ear and her friend Samara. Lord. So I pray for both of them. Father. And that justice will be done for her friend. Lord. In your name we pray. Amen.

[sunsetfell]

Jesus Camp Days

Toms River, NJ, 2014.

Esther knew how to find the back door into the church’s Activity Center. When she was little, her mother took her there for Sunday School, and then for the occasional Baptist Youth Camp—what she now called her “Jesus Camp days.” So she undid the latch, then she and David stepped into the dark, concrete-walled entryway.

A moment prior, Esther and David had been walking in Toms River, New Jersey when Esther spotted their old church, where she and David had met in Sunday School. Today was first they’d seen each other since they were teenagers, after David, out of the blue, had called Esther’s parents at their land-line phone number. Esther had agreed to walk with David along a street they both knew long ago.

Once inside the Activity Center, Esther was shaken by a familiar smell, and then a host of other small familiarities that trickled in like water through a cracked dam. Much was unchanged: the dusty feel of the painted concrete wall, the low, off-white tiled ceiling, the construction paper on the bulletin boards where the Sunday School kids hung their projects. Other details—like rows of filing cabinets along the side wall—were either new or, somehow, forgotten.

“Do you remember...” Esther's voice trailed off.

“Remember?”

“Like... playing dodge-ball tag down here?"

Of course he did.

The two of them moved to the rainbow tile-patterned rug by the far corner and sat beneath the gray light dripping in from the basement-style window.

“I remembering seeing you here,” David said.

“Yeah... so many times.” Esther leaned back and straightened her legs. She was wearing loose-fitting cotton pants with a design of a field of wheat under a deep blue sky. The serene image clashed with the jarring colors of the rug.

“But I mean really seeing you,” David said. “You were sitting in the corner drawing in your notebook, alone like you usually were. You were wearing a black t-shirt with a cartoon character design on the front. Your hair kept falling in front of your face and you kept brushing it back. I wanted to tell you how beautiful you looked, but I also wanted to leave you in peace. In the end, I said nothing. I’ve regretted that ever since.”

“David, can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“When you called my parents yesterday, were you just trying to reconnect?”

David looked up at the ceiling. He did not answer right away.

“Or was it something else?”

“I was serious about wanting to see you,” David said. “I hadn’t thought further ahead than that.”

“I see,” Esther said. She played with the fluffy strands of the rug with one hand. She remembered how she used to like the feel of this rug while she sketched in her notebook. It had been a while since she’d drawn for fun.

“Can I ask you something else?” Esther said, looking up from the rug.

“Sure,” David replied, still watching the ceiling tiles, seeming to find a meaning in them that escaped Esther.

“Am I still beautiful?”

David looked at Esther. After a few seconds, he answered:

“Physically, you are.”

“What about not physically?”

David paused. He looked at Esther’s shoes, pants, shirt (dark maroon, tight, and stretchy), and face—in that order.

“What I thought was beautiful about you then was your complete self-sufficiency. You had no need to prove anything or win anyone’s admiration. The drawing in your notebook would never be shared: it was for your eyes only. Your hair was just how you liked it in the mirror. I don’t know if you still have that kind of beauty.”

Now it was Esther’s turn to look at the ceiling. In so doing, she realized its appeal: the tiles’ familiar shade of grungy off-white that hadn’t changed in years.

David spoke again:

“But that’s not why I called your parents. I still wanted to see you, even if you were no longer self-sufficient.”

There was more silence. Esther wiped her eyes. Then she stood up quickly.

“I’m going to leave,” Esther said. “Please wait a bit before you follow. Let me get ahead of you.”

Then she ran out the back door and into the gray afternoon.

[thestrawberrynight]

Guess what?

Witches all over Eastern Europe are going to have a really, really, really big sabbath party on the night of July 6-7! All of our mystical colleagues from other parts of the world are invited so prepare long white shirts, flower wreaths and brooms - we're celebrating Ivanа-Kupala!

but first, let's find out what kind of celebration it is and why it is so cool so get ready for a little historical tour

Ivanа-Kupala is a traditional eastern Slavic holiday, which is celebrated in Ukraine, Poland, Belarus and Russia during the night from 6 to 7 July (on the Gregorian calendar). (This corresponds to 23-24 June on these countries’ traditional Julian calendar.) The celebration relates to the summer solstice when nights are the shortest and includes a lot (you even can’t imagine how much) of rituals and beliefs 

the name of the holiday was originally Kupala; a pagan fertility rite later adapted into the Orthodox Christian calendar by connecting it with St. John's Day.

the Ukrainian, Belarusian and Russian name of this holiday combines "Ivan" (John, in this case John the Baptist) and Kupala which was thought to be derived from the Slavic word for bathing, which is cognate. However, it likely stems from the proto-Slavic kump, a gathering. The two feasts could be connected by reinterpreting John's baptizing people through full immersion in water. However, the tradition of Kupala predates Christianity. The pagan celebration was adapted and reestablished as one of the native Christian traditions intertwined with local folklore

I know, it was a rather boring story, but how can we celebrate something without knowing the background, right? Now we get to the fun part

at this time, all the plants are gaining magical and healing properties so the first thing we need to do at this day is to wake up early in the morning, go on the meadow being absolutely naked and gather different plants and herbs. There is a legend that on a day in Ivan Kupala you can heal with dew, so in the morning you need to walk barefoot on the grass (if the gathering herbs in the early morning being naked is too much for you) 

it is believed that people shouldn't sleep on the night of Ivan Kupala, because at this time not only nature comes to life, but also all spirits become especially active - werewolves, mermaids, watermen, foresters so you can see that witches and sorcerers have a really good company today, we're all celebrating!

However, it is necessary to swim in open water. On this night, water acquires healing properties, helps to cleanse the body and soul from bad thoughts and evil.

in the evening the main entertainments come and special attention is drawn to divination. A lot of girls want to find out more about their "love life" but witches are not interested in it (are we?) although I think I must tell briefly about it

the girls throw their wreaths into the water in order to find the love of their life, and the boys have to get them. The wreath is a symbol of happiness and marriage.

if the wreath sinks right away - the beloved has fallen out of love, and the wedding will not take place, the wreath comes to the shore - girl will be unmarried this year. Whoever has the longest wreath will be happy, and whoever burns the candle longer will live a long, long life.

there are also divinations on a candle: break it into small pieces and put in a metal spoon. The spoon is heated until the pieces turn into melted wax, and then abruptly pour it into water and divination on the figure. Or, without spying, the girls plucked a bouquet of flowers, which was then placed under a pillow. If in the morning it turns out that at least twelve different herbs have been plucked, then the girl has a great chance to get married this year.

the main core around which the action takes place is the Kupala fire. Before lighting a fire, four men with torches become a square around the bush, denoting the four suns (four seasons). Then everyone gathers in the bushes and lights a fire, symbolizing the "solar plexus". It should burn all night. Around him, young people play games, sing songs, lead round dances. But the main thing is jumping over the fire.

there are signs related to this: if a young man jumps the highest - his family will have a good harvest, he will jump into the flames - wait for trouble. When a young man and a girl successfully jump over the fire, they will definitely get married and live in harmony all their lives.

the most important thing to do tonight is to find a fern flower. Whoever finds it will know everything in the world, will get all the treasures without difficulty, will have the highest harvest, will not be afraid of evil forces, will have the miraculous power to do everything with the hand that plucked the flower of happiness.

but the Flower of Happiness is awaited not only by people, but also by evil forces, which are difficult to fight for the person who finds it (so, yes, in the night all of the witches are going to find it as well) They try to stop, to divert the attention of a young person who finds this flower - the old person, as a rule, is not lucky to find it. And if the young is lucky enough to find a flower of happiness, she/he has to cut the skin of the little finger on left hand and put that flower under the skin. Then a person must take a wormwood or a tatarzilla in his left hand and circle it with chalk - only then the evil forces will not be able to do anything to the lucky one.

so, witches and sorcerers, werewolves, vampires  and mermaids, watermen and foresters and many others, let's celebrate the Ivana Kupala together, so fly, swim, run to Ukrane and Eastern Europe, we are waiting for you all here!

[revchainsaw]

Nausicaa and the Valley of the Wind (1984)

Prayers and Salutations Cult Members! I am your mysterious minister Reverend Chainsaw and this is another nights revival service at the Cult Film Tent Revival. I bring you a special word tonight. Tonight's word is about a person who roamed the earth, in a time where people were backward and warlike. A leader emerged into a kingdom full of eschatological expectation. This leader came preaching peace, and was killed for the sins of the world, but was resurrected. In that resurrection a new hope was brought to the planet, and true healing through the power of love in the face of violence is made possible. I am talking of course about Princess Nausicaa from the Valley of the Wind.

The Message

Nausicaa and the Valley of the Wind is the film that put studio Ghibli and Hayoa Miyazaki on the map. No animated feature this grandiose and epic had been achieved by 1984, as much as Disney may beg to differ. The tale may be simple, and it may feel super 80s to us today, but Nausicaa is a masterpiece, and the fact that Howl's Moving Castle is brought up alongside Princess Mononoke and Spirited Away more often than Nausicaa is a farce and a tragedy.

The film takes place on a fantastic planet that seems to have suffered the ravages of an apocalyptic war. A war that involved gigantic warriors with powers so devastating they about made the entire planet inhospitable if not uninhabitable; save for a few areas. The fall out of this ancient war has left the earth in a state of repair, where the natural processes of a planet healing has creating giant toxic jungles.

Beyond these jungles lie two imperialistic factions, they seem almost to be city-states but it's not terribly clear. The Kingdom of Tolmekia, a militaristic proto-fascist society of almost Spartan sensibilities. Tolmekia is governed by the ambitious and cynical Princess Kushana, But I like to call her Furiosa. Just like Furiosa, Kushana is physically missing parts of herself, a visual metaphor for her metaphysical lacking and the parts of her humanity she has cut away. Kushana's world view is one of fear, a fear that can only be quelled by waging a genocidal campaign against her enemies.

Speaking of enemies, the Athens to Tolmekias Sparta would be the Pejite Kingdom. The Pejites might like to view themselves as simply responding to Tolmekian aggression, but the narrative of the film, and the story told quite visibly on the body of Kushana, is quite different. The Pejites are just as bloodthirsty if not more palettable in their approach, but like the Tolmekians, they believe only their own lives have any value. And thus, in this theatre of war, a Giant Warrior from the ages before is unearthed by the Pejite Kingdom, Stolen by the Tolmekians, before the forces of nature themselves, seem to conspire to drop the Giant Warriors "egg" right into the Valley of the Wind.

The Valley of the Wind is populated like the world of Avatar the Last Airbender, that is mostly of children and the elderly. The people of the Valley have been able to remain untouched by the ravages of war and the toxic jungles of the damaged world primarily due to geographic luck that's explained in minor exposition in the film. They are ruled by a King, and they are all deeply enamored by their beloved Princess Nausicaa.

Nausicaa is a gentle soul. She is kind to animals, she is empathetic, unreasonably patient, and bears pain and grief inflicted on her out of cruelty with a saintly understanding. She really is a thinly veiled Christ figure, scratch that. There is no veil. But she's also my favorite Christ figure. She does not preach a message, as much as she tries to save everyone from their own short sighted goals. She is not perfect, she does lash out and do some fantasy sword fight murder, but she regrets her actions so deeply that it seems to have played a part in motivating her to become even more compassionate and patient with the evils of the world.

Nausicaa discovers yet another plot by the Pejites, who are afraid of the possibility of the Tolmekians awakening the Giant Warrior, to use animal cruelty to enrage a group of almost invincible giant insects known as the Ohm. By luring the Ohm into the Valley of the Wind where the Tolmekians have become an occupying force, they hope to completely wipe out everything that threatens them. The Tolmekians DO awaken the Giant Warrior and pure pandemonium ensues. Nausicaa manages to save the Baby Ohm and calm the rage of the bloodthirsty Ohm swarm, and to defeat the warlike tendencies of both the Pejites and the Tolmekians. All the while fulfilling a prophecy fortold about a messianic savior figure called the Man in Blue.

Now that you have heard the Gospel of Nausicaa, please stand to receive The Benediction.

Best Character: Half a Person

Now that I've spent the better part of this review gushing about our Lord and savior Nausicaa. I have to admit, she's at times a bit too perfect, a bit too saccharin. Even her flaw, or her one weakness and her failing to be perfect, just adds to the perfection. I can't even say she never makes mistakes cuz she made one, and that's infuriating. It's even more infuriating that I still think she's a great character. Normally this kind of thing really kills a hero. Most Chosen Ones are the most boring and least likeable characters in their narratives. I don't know how Nausicaa avoids this trap, but she does. I'll have to do some meditating on that.

However, just like in your typical Chosen One fantasy narrative, the hero is a lot less fun than the villain. I'm going to say the best character in Nausicaa is Kushana. I want to be like Nausicaa, but I don't understand her. She's almost alien, even though we learn all about her. Kushana is mysterious, secretive, and enigmatic, yet I understand her. She barely has an arc, she doesn't really change. She's cold and cynical to the bone, but I don't need to see much of her situation to completely understand why she is the way she is. I usually hate totalitarian bad guys, but Kushana I like. Sue Me.

Also fun fact, did you that Nausicaa means 'Sinker of Ships'. That's kinda fun.

Best Scene: Spoiled for Choice

I'm going to be lazy and say take your pick. There is really not a bad seen in this movie. If the action isn't going, then there's intriguing dialogue. If there's no dialogue then you may be about to get hit with a forceful burst of whimsy. There's horror, there's swordfights and aerial dogfights. The only thing in Nausicaa I don't like to see, is the bloody tortured Ohm Baby. It's like a god damned Sarah Mclachlan commercial.

Best Creature: Foxy Shazam!

The Ohm are so simplistic yet so detailed. The number of eyes is alien, but the way they are used is expertly expressive. Who'd think you could get me to love what basically amounts to a silverfish with the intensity that I love a kitten. How did Miyazaki pull an Okja with a creature that should be haunting our dreams? I don't know.

And what about the Giant Warrior! If you are an Evangelion fan then you probably already know that Hideaki Anno designed and animated the melting goopy biomechanical beast. Surely a sight that would make both H.R. Giger and Clive Barker giddy with excitement. Just the image of the silhouettes marching amidst the desolation of the old world is burned into my brain.

So which of these is the best creature from Ghibli's first outing? It's fucking Teto. It was always gonna be Teto you idiot. Just look at Teto, he's adorable. He's too cute to exist. I'm so alone. I need a pet.

Best Character Design: Tolmekian Regalia

I originally included this category to talk some about Kushana, however, at that time I also thought I was going to say Nausicaa was the best character. I thought hard about deleting it, but I think it's a different category and you can't accuse me of playing favorites because my favorite character is clearly Teto. Just to keep it simple. It's the two costume shift from full military regalia in white and gold, to the one metal arm, warrior princess get up. It's a great costume and a great look. Get on this shit cosplay nerds. It's great for Cons in Canada, you have to think about layers, and you can't keep going as Mr. Plow. It's lazy.

Best Excuse to Talk About Patrick Stewart's Character: Lord Yupa

I just realized that I was about to write this whole review without talking about Lord Yupa. Lord Yupa is a sword saint and all around badass I think a lot of entertainment, especially in the west is lacking bad ass old men. Lord Yupa particularly shines in the early half of the film as a warrior and as a wise council to Nausicaa. If she's Jesus then Yupa is John the Baptist. He is also voiced by the elegant and eloquent Patrick Stewart. He also comes with 2 chocobos!

Worst Character: For Whom Asbel Tolls

This might also be the worst actor category as well. Actual Cannibal (haha meme) and actual monster (haha real life) Shia Labeouf doesn't so much act in the role as he read the lines and it was recorded. The good news it doesn't effect the film too much because Asbel is completely forgettable. He is a catalyst to some of the action, but besides that I don't really care for him.

Worst Aspect: To Be Fair ...

It would be unfair to completely ignore anything negative about Nausicaa. I have already mentioned in many places that there are some pretty corny, or pretty predictable tropes to this movie. But what I can't capture in words is exactly why it feels fresh when it's done in this movie. I suppose that's what makes it good. It's just so good that it's weak points are lifted up by it's strengths. Some people may bored of Nausicaa's unyielding goodness, or that she very rarely chooses to take action as much as she chases and pleads with her surroundings, but I mean, she does pay for that eventually. It's a fantasy story and it hits a lot of timeless themes that have been hit in stories for as long as human beings have been telling stories. Some people may feel that it doesn't do enough to stand out.

Summary

I have defined the S tier for myself as "near perfect and personal favorite" films. I like to think that Nausicaa and the Valley of the Wind is near perfect. Some may say that it looks like it might just be a personal favorite. In the case of Nausicaa, I'm having a very hard time telling the difference. I think it would be overly simple to claim that Nausicaa is just an ancient archetypal heroes journey with an 80s anime coat of paint. I think it's doing quite a few new and interesting things with that formula, those things are just playing out all around that narrative as opposed to being at it's center. For a first full length outing by the studio, you can really see Miyazaki's heart and the values he holds close to. I'll repeat myself so that we are completely clear on the matter. I think Nausicaa and the Valley of the Wind is a near perfect movie.

Overall Grade: S

[floral-and-fine]

Sweet Sleep

John Seed x reader

Warnings: none

A/n: just a short drabble I wrote for @rusticup. I’m really trying to get out of this writing dry spell. Had to stop myself from adding too much, because there’s no way I’d actually finish it.

Things were rarely quiet with John around. That man loved the sound of his own voice, and could ramble on and on about whatever’s on his mind.

Most of the time, you didn’t mind, he had such a sexy voice that even if you weren’t paying attention to what he was going on about, it was still pleasant to listen to. Not to mention, he was also fun to watch. He would become so animated and full of energy depending on the topic.

But right now John wasn’t making a peep except the gentle sound of his snoring, giving you a chance to admire him.

Your fingers gently moved a few strands of his hair back. You studied how beautiful John was, from the bone structure of his face to his long lashes.

It took quite a while to have this sort of intimacy with John. At the beginning of your relationship, he was always charming and fun to be around. It didn’t take you long to figure out that John was putting up a front.

It’s not that John wasn’t extremely charming or fun, but even he had his bad days. Although, he never showed it.

It was like he had to hide what he was actually feeling and thinking. He didn’t like to show weakness to anyone, and he absolutely didn’t want to appear weak in front of you.

Soon, you began to notice how he’d avoid you or keep you at a distance. The worst cases were the ones where a week or two would go by without a word from him. Anytime, he was going through a rough patch, it was like he would disappear.

During these periods, you would miss him dreadfully. The days before his sudden absence, were just as wonderful as every other day you spent with John. There were never any indicators that he was going through anything.

Eventually, you brought it up to his attention. John denied it, of course. He played it off as your imagination, and kept his usual facade. But you knew there was no way your relationship with him could last without something changing.

It wasn’t until you marched over to the ranch one night, and refused to leave, that he finally opened up a little to you. He reacted full of anger at first, but then broke down. John was so worried that you’d leave him if you ever found out how broken he actually was.

It took several days of reassurance and quality time with him, for him to understand that you weren’t going anywhere.

Your fingers traced the corner of jaw and down his neck. Goosebumps appeared as you reached his collarbone. He squirmed a little in his sleep at the sensation.

When he asked if the two of you could just spend today in bed, there was no way you could refuse. You could see in his face how tired he was. Poor John had dark bags under his eyes. You were just beginning to learn how erratic his sleep schedule is.

He wasn’t up to play the part of John the Baptist or John the Lawyer or John the Yes Man. Right now, he needed to unwind, recuperate and be pampered by you.

Carefully, you kissed his lips. It was a brief chaste kiss, not lasting longer than a second or two.

John stirred slightly, “y/n?” he croaked with his eyes still closed.

“Yeah?”

He smiled at the sound of your voice. “I love you,” he murmured, still half asleep.

“I love you too, John.”

[kindabigbear]

Eastern European Pilgrimage – Slovakia & Budapest, Hungary

We woke up early again this morning to head out for Budapest, Hungary.  Our first stop for the day was for mass.  We drove to this small town called Gaj where the Kosciot Narodzenia was located.  It was a cute little church.  They had one bathroom and apparently it had no toilet paper.  Luckily, mom and I had bought some travel kind to bring with us. It looked like there were redoing the grounds around the church and maybe fixing up the church itself.  After mass, we traveled farther down the road to Orawka to the Parish St John the Baptist.  It was an incredibly old church made of wood that had amazing paintings all over it.  It also had a number of graves outside.  A couple of them looked like they were from WWI or II and were probably pilots. There was a little building next door that had bathrooms.  They also had the cutest cat wandering around.  He was so friendly and cute.  We got back in the bus and headed south.  At the border to Slovakia, we stopped to use a bathroom but they ended up not being open.  It was kind of disappointing.  Plus, I think Sebastian needed to take his break.  We continued on though and eventually stopped at Donovaly.  It was a ski area and had food places, bathrooms, apartments and hotels.  We had lunch and did a little souvenir shopping.  I think we should have had lunch with Father Robert as he had pizza and we had some weird stuff with LaVern and her husband.  Slovakia is a pretty country.  I enjoyed looking at the scenery as we drove along.  There was what looked like a ruined castle of sorts on a hill and a freeway that was either being built or was abandoned.  

We arrived in Budapest toward evening.  Before we even went to the hotel, we went to dinner.  It was an interesting place…… you go through one door and then leave out another.  We ate out on a terrace like area which was good since it was really hot.  The bathrooms were downstairs though.  The food here was the worst.  A very dry looking piece of tuna on some kind of rice stuff.  I had a roll and ate some of my crackers and jerky when we got to the hotel later. I’ve been google-mapping like crazy trying to find the name of it but I can’t even find a place that even looks familiar.  On to the hotel.  It was called the Continental Hotel Budapest.  We were on the sixth floor which was maybe two from the roof.  Nice little room.  

The next morning, we met up with everyone and our guide for the day in the lobby.  We walked down the street to the Raoul Wallenberg Holocaust Memorial Park.  It has a huge weeping willow tree sculpture commemorating the Hungarian Jews who died in the Holocaust.  Their names are inscribed on the leaves of it and it’s called the Emanuel Tree.  It was pretty impressive looking.  Next to this was the Dohany Street Synagogue and the Hungarian Jewish Museum and Archives.  We continued down the road and through the Varoshaza Park and to Elizabeth Square where they have a Ferris wheel called the Budapest Eye.   Here we turned off onto a small side street and walked down to St Stephen’s Basilica.  It was very pretty.  Old European churches like this are always pretty.  We had a little time to look at a souvenir shop outside before we had to get on the bus to go to our next place.  The shop had bathrooms too.  We went over to the City Market where we could find something for lunch.  There was a Burger King across the street so mom and I went there.  Nice and quick.  Meeting up with everyone again, we got on the bus and headed out of Budapest to the north. Our next stop was in the town of Esztergom.  It was right on the Danube and the border of Slovakia.  We were having mass at the Basilica of Esztergom.  It was on a hill overlooking the river.  Very pretty views and a nice area where you could look off from. Mass was in this side area.  There was a picture in there that looked like a demented goat or something.  It was really creepy looking.  We drove back to Budapest and had dinner at this place that looked like a wine cellar. They had a big barrel full of corks in it in the entrance.  After dinner, Sebastian drove us back to the hotel.  

Day two sort of.  We had a city tour of sorts.  We went out to the Millennium Monument in Heroes Square and by the Museum of Fine Arts and the Kunsthalle.  It was also near the Budapest Zoo and Vajdahunyad Castle. There was a little lake that had peddle boats that you could rent.  We drove by the Shoes on the Danube Bank which was a memorial for people killed by fascist during WWII.  We also went by Hungarian Parliament building.  Very impressive looking and even better at night with the lights all lit up.  After this, a number of us went off on our own while the rest went on a tour of the Parliament building.  Mom and I got lunch at KFC and did a bit of shopping.  Then we took a taxi back to the hotel.  For dinner tonight, we went across the river to a restaurant called Borkatakomba.  The inside was like a wine cellar with huge barrels you could sit in and have dinner.  We sat at a long table.  There was another section of long tables behind us and on either side.  I think one group was from the UK and another from China maybe.  At the end of the tables was a little stage area where some people were playing instruments.  That was also where a couple of them danced and stuff.  It was entertaining.  The food wasn’t that bad either.  

Today I stayed at the hotel while everyone went off to the top of Gellert Hill.  There was a Citadella there and you could see Fisherman’s Bastion.  I ended up seeing most of this later when mom and I went on a hop on hop off bus tour of sorts. We were supposed to have the whole day to ourselves but the leader had planned too many things for the time we had.  I think.  So much happened I might be mixing up the things we did each day.  Anyway.  Last full day, we took a hop on hop off bus out to the zoo.  Well kind of.  We went the wrong way but got there eventually.  I adore zoos.  I try to go to one everywhere I go. The giraffes were cute and I love the tiger. He was sleeping.  The lion was laying on his back.  Just a big cat.  We went as far as the polar bears and then went back down to do some shopping.  Mom was trying to find the same place she had gone to with the other ladies but we couldn’t find it.  We went back to the hotel and started packing.  Our last dinner was a river cruise and folk music show. They had a menu that you could pick what you wanted.  It was nice. It was fun.  We went up and down the Danube a couple times and ate and listened to people sing and play.  Then we went back to the hotel to sleep for a couple hours before we had to get up again and head to the airport.  

For being three in the morning, the airport was pretty packed.  We flew to Amsterdam where we had barely enough time to go through security and get to our next gate before they were loading.  I didn’t get to use the bathroom so I used the one on the plane before we took off.  We went through customs in Portland which was weird.  Then we called the hotel bus to come get us.  When we got to the hotel, I changed into shorts.  It was so hot.  We got back home by around five.  My cat was happy to see me.  

[blackmissfrizzle]

The Read

Title: The Read

Pairing: Dean x Black!Reader, Sam

Word Count: 1148

Summary: The reader finds a way to pass time in the car and now Dean wants to join in

Warnings: None. Just a couple of f bombs. 

A/N: This is my first ever fic and I’m super nervous about it, but proud of my work. Feel free to critique! This is for all my black girls who love Supernatural, but don’t see themselves that much on the show or read it in fanfiction. Also shoutout to @thisistheread, the best podcast out there!

A/N: I know it’s not a writing challenge for @spnfanficpond but I just wanted to tag y’all.

What’s one of the most things you hate about hunting? The drive. Who really wants to be stuck in the car for hours on end? Then there’s only so much arguing with Dean about who’s the better Avenger, between Captain America and Ironman (Team Cap all day), and geeking out with Sam you could do. And most of the time you were stuck in the backseat, unless Sam stayed back for a hunt and with Dean being so neurotic about Baby you never got to drive her, and you’re a better driver than Sam!

But the worst thing about the drive was, THE FUCKING MUSIC! Its like Dean never heard of music past the 80s. And it was all classic rock, not even one fucking blues song! Sometimes you wondered how you two were compatible as a couple, a 40-year-old white dude from the Midwest and a 25-year-old black girl from the South. There was some songs you could belt out with Dean, like You Shook Me All Night Long, or the stripper anthems like, Cherry Pie and Pour Some Sugar On Me (Dean had a newfound love for those songs since you gave him a lap dance to them a couple of weeks ago).  

Today was one of those days you could not listen to another AC/DC album again or you would start banging your head against Baby’s window. But thank God… or is it Chuck (you’re just gonna keep it with God, because you wouldn’t even want to know what your southern Baptist mother would do if she knew you were calling God, Chuck).

Anyways, thank God you were behind on your favorite podcast due to all day and night research on how to get Michael out of Dean. Soon as you realized you had at least another 8 hours on the road, you popped your headphones in and got ready to listen to Kid Fury and Crissle on The Read, talk shit about celebrities, tell women to break up with their triflin’ ass boyfriends, and of course read people to filth.

You were two episodes in when Dean snatched your headphones out. “What the fuck, dude!?” You yelled as you smacked Dean across the head. “Whatcha you listening to that gots you laughing so hard that you’re not listening to your kick-ass boyfriend’s story about how he ganked Hitler?” Rolling your eyes, you replied, “Really, Dean? I was there. And how many times are you gonna tell that story? Its been over a year, get over it!” “It’s a great fuckin’ story.” With a mumble, Sam replied, “Yeah, only the first time.”

“Shut up Sam!”

“Bitch.”

“Jerk.”

You thought you were off the hook when the boys began to argue, but you just had to let out a cackle that might just rival Crissle’s, which cause you to gain your boyfriend’s attention once again. “Hey, you never answered me. Whatcha ya listening to?” “Ummm, a podcast,” you replied in between giggles and not fully giving Dean your attention. But what he said next sure did, “Well, put it on your speaker. I need something to keep me awake and arguing with Sam is not fun anymore.” “Huh?”, you asked sounding like Scooby-Doo and big eyes. “I…said…put…it…on”, Dean said slowly with the flicking of his bottom lip. “Ummm…um…um, are you sure? Its really not for the elderly?”, you said with a smirked. You thought you got him there, now he won’t want to listen. Its not that your ashamed of the show, it’s the quite opposite, but how do you introduce a black as podcast to your white ass boyfriend that you loved dearly? “You weren’t calling me elderly last night, when I had your legs-““Whoa, whoa, whoa, dude I don’t want to hear about that”, Sam interrupting Dean talking about your latest sexcapades. “Well tell Y/N to play the podcast or I’ll tell you one of her most embarrassing sex stories”, Dean threatened playfully.

“You wouldn’t dare!”, you gasped

Then, Dean began his countdown “In 3…”

“Whatever man, you not gonna do it”

“2…”

“Are you serious”

“1…”

“Babe, pleeeeeease don’t”, you whimpered.

“0. Well, Sammy there was this one time when Y/N/N was in Vegas-“

“Ok, asshole! I’ll play it, but you gotta promise not to get offended, because I don’t have time for your white tears!”

“What the hell is white tears?”

“If you listen long enough, you’ll find out. Now be quiet, they’re just getting to the good stuff.”, you ordered as you hooked up your phone to the Bluetooth speaker.

You catch yourself not even pay attention to the podcast, but to the boys’ reactions. It was your favorite portion, the listener letters, which most of the time is about the listeners asking advice about their ain’t shit boyfriends. But as Crissle began reading the first question, you stopped paying attention to the boys and gave Crissle your full and undivided attention. The listener was a girl who broke up with her boyfriend who cheated on her with her best friend and gave her a STD, but couldn’t move out of their shared apartment because they shared a lease (Whew…chile, let Dean try something like that and the world would have one less Winchester).

After hearing the letter, you were thinking of your own advice you would give to the listener, but Kid Fury’s next joke had you spitting out your water and the whole car erupting in laughter, “Just kill him.” Before you missed anything else you had to pause the show and once there was silence Dean and Sam turned to you, “Hey! Why’d you turn it off?” “Um, because I refuse to miss another gem like that,” with a roll of your eyes. “Now shut the fuck up, so we can enjoy this masterpiece.” And that’s exactly what the boys did for the next 4 hours except for a couple of full bellied laughs and everyone’s take on what the listeners should do.

Once you guys reached your destination, you felt the most relaxed you had in weeks and you hadn’t even started the hunt yet. Heading into the motel room Dean swung his arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer to him, “That was great, sweetheart. I really needed that.  We can listen to it on the way back home.” “Probably not. We caught up and episodes come out on Thursdays and today is Friday. Sorry babe.” When you told Dean this, he looked like a toddler who was about to cry because he got his favorite lollipop taken away. Thinking quick on your feet you offered, “Oh we can just listen to Whorible Decisions.”

“Whorible Decisions,” Dean questioned.

“Yeah its all about sex, and we can ruin sweet, Sammy’s virgin ears,” you mischievously smirked.

“Oh, hell yeah!” Dean screamed.

Shaking your head, you knew you created a monster at that moment and you loved it.

[b0rtney]

Why I Do What I Do: 1. A Human Being with a Place of Birth

You can’t know where you’re going without knowing where you’re from, so today I’ll talk a little bit about where I’m from, and why I do what I do. This first part is about where I’m from as a human being.

I was born and raised in a nice little suburb of Missouri, about twenty minutes from downtown St. Louis. 

For kindergarten, I went to a nice Henry school and attended a nice Baptist church on Sundays, and maybe one other day of the week if I’m remembering that right. These were the kinds of places that would make any moderate person’s skin crawl. My older sister would scream and pout when my parents wrestled her into a church dress, but it would be a scandal if she tried wearing pants– that kind of place. My parents got divorced when I was six or seven, and that kind of thing had every person in that church turning their backs on my family, the fact that my mom soon began working to support me and my siblings was, I’m sure, the talk of the congregation for a little while– that kind of place. 

After my parents got divorced, I switched to another nice Henry school, and I moved to new houses: one for each parent. That nice Henry school didn’t work out for long. My mom couldn’t stand Henryity in almost any form anymore. And the tuition was too expensive for an electrician with a declining business and a brand-new real estate agent in 2007. So, public schools. My dad was zoned for a school with the best public schools around, so we used his address. Kehrs Mill Elementary was where I went starting in second grade, and where my brother went starting in Kindergarten. My sister started sixth grade at Crestview Middle. 

I went about half the year friendless in second grade, and then I met Fernanda. She was the only Hispanic girl in the whole school (there was one Philipino boy, two Chinese girls, an Indian girl, a Middle Eastern boy, and everyone else was African American or Caucasian). She, kind of literally, yanked me by the arm and dragged me into friendship, and I’d never been happier. We played Warrior cats (yes, based on the books, don’t look at me like that every school had some kids that did it… although I think the part where we lapped water out of the sink and hissed at her mom was a little weird). We made up a version of “Cowboys and Indians” where we would be two Chieftesses with inexplicable numbers of children and no husbands, facing moral dilemmas like what to do with prisoners of war when they won’t hear of peace– while our brothers (my one and her two) tried to shoot at us with Nerf guns. 

At this point, if you had asked me what I wanted to do with my life, I would have told you what I considered an impossible joke: I wanted to marry a woman, run an orphanage, adopt a bunch of teenagers and babies, and drive a van big enough to fit everyone in it when we went grocery shopping together. 

In third grade I took a long test in the school’s brand-new computer lab and I scored so well that they took me, once a week, on Wednesdays, to a different campus with other kids that scored really well on that test and we learned about lazers and climate change and cloning and other things for “gifted” kids. But otherwise, third grade passed in much the same way as second grade, but nothing exists without complications and so there came along a boy named Henry. He was new to school and he had what could have been called a cool haircut, for 2009, and Fernanda loved him. I didn’t. But she did, so I thought it was normal to like a boy, so I said I liked him too. And then he said he liked me better than her because she was weird and I kicked him in the shin and said something mean that I don’t remember anymore. But Fernanda didn’t like that, and she didn’t like me. So at the beginning of fourth grade she told me she wasn’t going to be my friend this year so that she could try being friends with someone else. 

So, I was alone again in fourth grade, for a minute. But by this time my real estate-mom had moved us to house number three (four, maybe?) since the divorce: a condo with blue carpets and mostly old people living there. This was where I met Branch, a kid from my class who visited his grandma in the condo directly above us. Branch and I each had a little brother, and by now my sister had taken to locking herself in her room and not talking to anyone, so Branch and me and our little brothers played “Hup-hups,” a war game where there were two sides, each with a commander and an infantryman who would respond to commands like “stay,” “go,” “attack,” and “attention.” It was pretty fun, so Branch told his friends at school about it, and they all wanted to join my faction, and this went on like a domino effect until I was running an army comprised of something like 30-50 fourth-grade boys, depending on the day, at recess. I don’t think I realized how weird that was at the time. We mostly just screwed around until another boy formed an oppositional army, calling themselves the Arachnids, because that was just about the biggest word you could know in fourth grade, and they started guerilla warfare. They would just straight-up attack us and try to hurt us. I would scream at the boys following me to run away, because I never wanted anyone to get hurt, but then the oppositional army leader had his arm around my throat and I was choking so I couldn’t yell very loud, and all the boys on my side just went to town attacking the Arachnids back. Somehow, none of the recess monitors– these were two grouchy old women who would always yell at me and Fernanda for trying to climb the trees– ever saw this, or stopped it. The violence continued until people got tired of it, and by the end of the year I was alone again.

Fifth grade was when the depression I’d had since I can remember really kicked it up a notch. It should be noted that I had no idea what depression was. I thought it was normal to just not want to get out of bed in the morning, to want to die all the time, to dig needles into your skin and try to make yourself bleed because at least then you have control over something. By then my mom had moved to house number five, within walking distance from the school, so my brother and I would walk together every morning. I made one new friend, named John, and he talked me out of suicide not once but twice, once by yelling at me over the phone and once by just existing, which is very impressive for a fifth grader, if I’m honest, but also I think I’ll always feel a little horrible for putting that pressure on him. I convinced myself that I loved him, at the time. 

You may be noticing a pattern with me and boys, but we’re not quite there yet. 

Of course, between fifth and sixth grade my family picked up and moved across the country from Missouri to Southern California.

I spent sixth grade and most of seventh grade friendless, and met a few friends in eighth grade– two of those friends are still with me to this day. In eighth grade I met a girl named Chloe, who had three pregnancy scares in a year and who convinced me to make out with her in a pillow fort in the room I shared with my sister while my sister was out with her boyfriend– and that was the first kiss I ever had and it felt like liquid lightning in my veins. But in eighth grade I also listened to my Republican parents on the matter of gay rights– of course, I barely knew what gay was, I just knew it was something you called people you didn’t like because that’s all that a Missouri elementary school teaches you about it– and so I thought gay people were a little gross, and I was a little gross for liking it when I kissed a girl, and I buried that part of me. In eighth grade I also met the boy who would be the first one I would date: Chris. I dated him from the middle of freshman year to the end of sophomore year in high school. We went on a few awkward dates, we held hands even though his were sweaty and we couldn’t get the timing right, we kissed even though it felt about as exciting as eating plain bread– not exactly bad, just not exciting or fun. 

Now the pattern might seem more clear. It certainly became very clear to me. 

I didn’t like boys. I like girls. I’ve liked girls since forever, and no amount of shame or repression was going to “fix” me because I. Wasn’t. Broken. I was depressed and I was anxiety-ridden and I was introverted maybe a little too much, but being homosexual was never an issue. 

I broke up with my boyfriend. I came out to my friends, then my siblings, then my parents, then everyone else. I had a girlfriend, and she lost interest, so I broke it off. I had another girlfriend, but I had never been interested, so I broke it off. Then I put dating aside. 

I continued to get straight As in school, take all the AP classes, run three clubs, rank nationally for field hockey goalies, help a friend of mine transition from straight girl to gay girl to nonbinary kid to straight boy, and accumulate a solid group of five friends. 

Then I got rejected from every college I applied to because of a clerical error I didn’t know about until a year later (after appeals were already a lost cause), so I got a job, I went to a community college, tried to go for a business degree and hated it, switched to a creative writing degree, and now here we are! With my applications submitted and one acceptance in the bag (thank you, University of Iowa!), now I want to focus on my writing and try to get published next.

Now that you know where I’m from, you know at least a little of what I care about. I deal a lot with mental health, so does my writing. My sexuality was a major unknown for me for a large portion of my life, so I include that a lot in the hopes that I can help someone else not be so lost with that. My hometown had very little racial diversity, so I want to represent more diversity in my writing. 

But I don’t want to get ahead of myself: in the coming posts, I’ll show you what I’ve written and read, so you can have a better idea of where I’m coming from as a writer, now that you know where I’m coming from as a person. 

[vmheadquarters]

It’s become old hat for a cult TV show to get revived in some capacity now, but rare is the TV show that gets two different revivals across different mediums. Veronica Mars is that rare show. First, it was brought back from the dead because of a passionate crowdfunding campaign that led to a movie released by Warner Bros. Pictures in the spring of 2014. Now, Veronica Mars is back again with an eight-episode fourth season airing on Hulu starting on Friday, July 26. Where the Kickstartered movie felt haphazard and mildly uninspired, this revival is incredibly well-written and conceived, a return to form at least as good as the show’s second season.

For the uninitiated, Veronica Mars (Kristen Bell) is a hard-nosed private investigator in the Southern California hamlet of Neptune, where the richest of the rich rub elbows with the lower classes. On the original show, airing on both UPN and the CW, Veronica is a high-school student whose dad Keith (Enrico Colantoni) had once been the city’s sheriff before accusing one of the richest men in town of having murdered a teenage girl (who happened to be Veronica’s best friend). After his fall from grace, Keith became a PI, with Veronica as his aide and a sleuth of her own, trying to solve the case of her best friend’s death and figure out who date-raped her at a wild party. Over the show’s three seasons, Veronica graduated high school, solved various murders and other crimes, went to college, had numerous romantic entanglements, etc. The show, created by Rob Thomas, was always at its best in balancing Veronica’s distinctively witty, charming personality with a neo-noir sensibility.

SPOILER BENEATH CUT

And the fourth season of Veronica Mars (I’ve seen all eight episodes) is a remarkable, bracing reminder of why the show is so rightfully beloved. Veronica and Keith are still at Mars Investigations in Neptune, but a lot around them has changed. After the events of the movie, there’s literally a new sheriff (Dawnn Lewis) in town, who’s clearly a good detective despite still disdaining the presence of PIs like Ketih and Veronica. Our heroine and her paramour Logan (Jason Dohring) live together, but Logan, a Naval Intelligence officer, is often away on classified missions. He returns from his latest, at the same time as Neptune celebrates another hedonistic Spring Break season, with a surprising question for our heroine: a marriage proposal.

Veronica can only distract herself from that shocking offer when a bomb goes off at one of the local motels, leading her down a rabbit-hole conspiracy where she and Keith are tasked with figuring out who set off the bomb and why. And, in Veronica Mars form, the question of who the bomber is involves a lot more figures than would be expected. There’s a Muslim Congressman and his rigid family, a true-crime obsessive (Patton Oswalt), a Neptune entrepreneur and his enigmatic fixer (J.K. Simmons), Mexican hitmen, and more.

The era of streaming has made it so even a revival of a beloved show doesn’t guarantee it will feel the same as the original did. As was the case with the show’s third season, the case here doesn’t span the course of 20-plus episodes. There’s also not a lot of side cases for Veronica to investigate, just the spate of bombings and their unique aftereffects, as detailed in the eight 50-minute installments. And unlike in the original series, there are only three regulars in the opening credits: Bell, Colantoni, and Dohring. (This credit choice is interesting because you could make a very solid case that Oswalt, Simmons, and Clifton Collins, Jr., as one of the aforementioned hitmen, have at least as much to do as Dohring does. Oswalt, too, appears in every episode.) A number of the show’s supporting characters from the old days do show up, but often very briefly and sometimes in ways that make you wonder why they’re there to begin with. (As a longtime fan of the show, I was very happy to see Percy Daggs III as Wallace Fennel again, but the character serves very little purpose in these episodes.)

That said, within the first hour, it becomes exceedingly clear that Rob Thomas and his writing staff — including, in a delightfully inexplicable twist, legendary NBA star Kareem Abdul-Jabbar — have an exciting, novelistic story to tell that demands to be told in ways that simply weren’t the case with the recent film. The world has changed in the 15 years since the show premiered, but those changes all are logical within the framework of the new season. Oswalt’s character, who convenes a group of fellow “Murder Heads”, is as solid a way to skewer the rise of true-crime shows, podcasts, etc., without actually turning him into a would-be podcaster. And the presence of a politician of color introduces the inescapable element of how the world looks today. (Though the current president’s name doesn’t get mentioned, there are enough references to him that make you smile at how much Veronica must loathe him.)

Somehow, it all largely works, though a few of the subplots and new characters work better than others once you look at it all in hindsight. The new cast — also including Izabela Vidovic as a teenage girl with a connection to the bombing who might as well be Veronica Mars 2.0, and Kirby Howell-Baptiste as a local club owner — all acquits themselves quite well. Simmons, as an ex-con who seems like the obvious bomber from the outset, is the MVP. He and Colantoni have a loose, lived-in chemistry, as Keith and this new guy try to feel each other out and end up with a shared mutual respect despite being on two sides of the law. But Howell-Baptiste, who some will recognize from a recurring role on the third season of The Good Place (making her time onscreen with Bell even more enjoyable), is a lot of fun too. And Oswalt especially, who’s close to the third lead of the season, proves his dramatic chops in a role that could’ve easily been a source of mockery.

Where the season stumbles (and only slightly) is in its finale, both in revealing the truth behind the first bombing and subsequent bombs set around Neptune as a morbid way to punctuate Spring Break parties, and in revealing what will happen next for Veronica. Being a neo-noir show implies that Veronica Mars can’t ever truly be all sunshine and rainbows — our hard-bitten heroine would likely blanche at such a fate. However, the events of the last 30 minutes of the season, despite technically playing fair logically, feel a bit reverse-engineered (and one specific choice is probably going to alienate a lot of fans).

These spoilery quibbles are just that, though: quibbles. Largely, the streamlined focus on having an eight-episode story spread out over the course of 400 or so minutes makes for the kind of season a streaming service like Hulu must be salivating over: this is an exceptionally bingeable revival, with each episode structured both as its own thing and offering enough teasing excitement for the next installment that you just want to keep watching. More to the point, the story mostly feels true to the Veronica Mars world; it’s the truly singular revival that proves its existence almost instantly and is one of the best TV returns to date.

/Film Rating: 8 out of 10

[readingwebcomics]

Analyzing Questionable Content: Pages 1-50

And so it begins.

The very first comic of Questionable Content, posted way back in 2003 and what would eventually be Jeff Jacques’ claim to fame, the reason why everyone remembers his name and what has made him a wealthy man today.

…’s alright.

Of course, by modern standards it’s not very good. This was the early 2000s, the wild west of online artists who had nothing more than an art creation software and a dream. The Webcomic Review has a VERY good post about it right here, which explains what the landscape of webcomics were like around this time and why exactly Marten has a pet robot (tl;dr, EVERYONE had a pet robot in ye early days of webcomics because Megatokyo).

But aside from the… awkward art, this comic at least serves to set up the protagonist (as far as we’re aware right now, we’ll get into the roles of protagonists in QC later). He’s a lanky, assumedly average guy who hates where he is in life but doesn’t know what else to do or even where else to go…

…as he goes on to spell out two comics later. He’s unassuming, not really much you can say for or against him, miserable and stuck in a rut in his life that he’s too scared to escape. Sooo basically, freshly graduated college students – the exact kind of audience a RomCom like this would go after.

Oh, did I forget to mention?

Yeah, QC started off as a RomCom.

This young woman is Faye, and she immediately cuts through the bullshit with an aggressive but to-the-point introduction of herself and her intentions.

While aggressive and to-the-point, she’s also set up as someone who meshes with Marten and Steve’s interests well enough and quickly makes friends. This is probably best exemplified in the seventh page, which serves two purposes:

Purpose the First: Showcase Marten and Faye have a shared niche interest, immediately establishing chemistry between the two of them. Be it platonic or romantic, they’re quickly hitting it off and, being a RomCom, will serve as the first rope potential shippers can grasp onto.

Purpose the Second: Jeff is a MASSIVE indie music nerd and he wants the fucking world to know it.

Also Pintsize is there doing funny robot things because 2003 webcomic.

It’s not long before this initial relationship is set up that two issues serve to sew the seeds of initial conflict:

This, likewise, serves two purposes: To show where Faye works and create a believable life for her to exist in when she’s not in the story with Marten, and as previously stated to sew potential romantic conflicts in the future. Jeff employs this tactic many-a-time throughout the course of Questionable Content, beginning a conflict and letting the implications sit with the reader while life goes on in the regular comics. Is this good writing? I honestly can’t say. Is it always done well? Oh good God no, some plot beats are outright dropped or left to sit for so long the reader straight-up forgets it’s there with this method. But does Jeff make it work? It’s all on personal taste I’d say, but personally it sits well with me.

Also, for those of you wondering why it looks like the word “hump” is just pasted onto the text bubble in post… well it was. The original comic implied sexual assault much more overtly, using the R-word instead of “hump.”

*Away from mic* Wait, can-can I say [NOPE]? Better not to risk it? Alright, fair ‘nuff.

But yeah, this was pointed out by readers to be pretty fucked up and it was swiftly changed, for good reason.

Later that night, Faye asks Marten to dinner with her. Platonically, of course. And here I believe I should point out the dynamic of their relationship as it stands – Faye is the aggressor. Marten is basically a doormat. Whenever something happens, Faye is always the instigator, be it going out to dinner or tagging along with him when he’s getting shopping done. This will feed into their relationship dynamic and sets up a decent inter-personal conflict: Marten is far too passive to reach out to Faye and make the move to start something, but Faye, despite how openly and quickly she attaches herself to Marten’s life, never takes that step into making it romantic. The two clearly have the hots for each other, but their respective personalities make it so neither one crosses that threshold.

Yes I know this is basic character writing for a RomCom 101, but the fact that so much about these characters are said in 12 four-panel comics says a lot. It hooks the reader quickly and gets them on the page Jeff wants them to be, and I respect that.

And in the next page, Faye’s aggression takes on a new level, albeit extremely briefly.

This is an isolated incident of actual physical aggression rather than implications and threats in these first 50 pages, but it becomes a trend as we go along – one that feeds into Faye’s character, mind, so it’s not just physical abuse for humor’s sake – so just keep it in mind as we go along.

Also on a personal note the actual restaurant they go to is simultaneously the worst and best idea I’ve ever heard of:

This is horrible. I should not encourage this. And yet some dark part of me finds the concept utterly hilarious even though I know I’m a piece of shit for liking it.

Actually, now some part of me wants to do the exact opposite – advertise a place as a steakhouse only serve an all-vegan menu. It feels less mean but just as funny to me.

…oh right, the comic.

After sharing dinner, exchanging banter that establishes good chemistry and parting ways, we come to this comic that I’m only showing because I’m a slut for good puns and I will take any and all opportunities to share with people.

(Pintsize totally won that round with the John the Baptist zinger by the way, if I’m allowed to judge this.)

And one page later, we get the biggest shake-up in the comic thus far:

It’s established Faye herself ended up burning down the apartment because she burnt toast, but that’s not really important. I know, the fact Faye BURNT DOWN A BUILDING isn’t important sounds completely ridiculous, but follow me here – the important thing for this setup isn’t the how, but the why. “How did Faye’s apartment burn down?” isn’t the question Jeff, nor the audience, is intended to be asking, that’s merely a vessel into the situation we’re in – the answer of “Why did Faye’s apartment burn down?” which is, of course, so Marten and Faye can become roommates and facilitate future antics and further their relationship. Familiarity breeds into both affection and conflict, and the obvious case of “Well you two are already living together, aren’t you?” will serve to further the flames of their potential relationship with one another.

…granted, a better reason to create this setup would’ve been nice, and from a writing standpoint it’s ridiculous that Faye never suffers any consequences for burning an entire BUILDING down, one that had many more people than just her in it. If present-day Jeff wrote this plotline… actually. Now that I think about it, Jeff DOES re-do this plot point and make it make a lot more sense and have a lot more impact on everyone involved.

But we’ll get to that when we eventually talk about Brun…. Three thousand and something pages from now.

Either way, my point stands: This plot thread serves mostly to create the situation we’re facing now, one where Faye and Marten end up living together. This shake-up to the early comic settles us into the new status quo, one that we’ll be riding with comfortably for the foreseeable future.

Further evidence of Faye’s aggressive and troll-ish nature… one that may or may not play into future revelations about her, now that I think about it.

Remember what I said about sewing the seeds of drama? Well here we stand now – a misunderstanding, or the beginning of genuine conflict between these two?

The answer is… they talk it out like actual goddamn adults, avoiding a stupid, unnecessary fight.

Honestly? Kind of refreshing. But what makes it better is the following page:

Honestly? This moment never fails to make me laugh. The one-two punch of complete betrayal of the reader’s expectations as well as the utter dismantling and defusal of the romantic interest subplot between these two dorks – while denying some genuine romantic conflict that may force Faye into being more upfront with how she feels about the situation – is a fun denial of the kinds of RomCom clichés that one might expect to find in this story.

Sure, there are other stories that do this better, I’m not denying that. But isolated in a bubble, this stands by itself and, frankly, works well enough for the story Jeff’s telling.

Also say goodbye to Sara, once she walks out that door she goes to join the little sister from Family Matters and the big brother from Happy Days on the twisted Island of Irrelevancy, visiting the story only when she can spare the time to craft a raft out of banana leafs and... where was I going with this?

…okay, personal story time. The Walmart I’m doing contract work for this week has a CD display of new-ish albums, and honest-to-God I completely forgot music CDs were even a THING. MP3s have spoiled us, and I now feel old for some reason.

Right, getting back on track.

I wanted to show this comic to establish three things.

1) Marten is the kind of person who sits on things that bother him and lets them stew for awhile. As established in the previous image I showed with Marten and Steve at the music store, it’s been at least a day since what happened with Sara and Marten’s still thinking about it. This, for better or worse, becomes a core part of Marten’s character moving forward.

2) Faye, for all her faults, is a genuinely good friend who cares about Marten and knows when to channel her natural aggression into support rather than ribbing.

3) This is another comic that always makes me laugh whenever I read it. Yes I know that’s much less of a real reason than my other two points but let me have this dammit.

This particular page itself isn’t terribly important to the ongoing narrative but I wanted to include it because it introduces QC’s unquestionably best character, Jim. Hi Jim! I like Jim.

(He’s a minor character at best but he’s just so earnest and fun and every time Jeff brings him back he just gets better and better.)

Oh, and for those who were skeptical that the more-than-platonic interest was mutual between Marten and Faye, the next two issues serve to showcase that… yeah, both parties TOTALLY have the hots for each other.

The first of those two comics, by the way, gets called back to much later down the line. And the fact that Faye speaks in a southern accent is more than just a joke, it’s going to be touched on more later.

Jeff says in the description of this comic that this is based on personal experience, and it shows – this is the most backbone Marten displays to my memory.

And in the very next page, we’re introduced to a new character – although you wouldn’t guess it from her appearance.

That’s Raven. I like Raven. Her personality changes a ton once she’s properly introduced as a character and not a nameless employee, but for posterity’s sake: Here’s her very first appearance in the comic.

There’s only one more important comic to touch on in this batch of fifty, and it’s about both Marten and Faye’s families:

While this could be as simple as a “har-dee-har, my family drives me up the wall,” this comic serves to say a lot about both characters once we know more about their families. Both Marten and Faye actually have very good reasons why they don’t want to see their respective families or go back to their hometowns… Faye especially so. We’ll touch more on that when we get more into her backstory.

Before we wrap things up, I’d like to do a quick comparison between page 1 and 50 to see in what small, subtle ways Jeff’s artistry has improved:

There’s not a LOT of difference, but the small details really showcases just how different they look. Small changes from the placement of everything on Marten’s face, to the size of the eyes, the width of the eyebrows… It’s good shit.

Overall, what did I think of batch 1? Well… for an early 2000s webcomic, it’s engaging. The characters are likable, the plot is progressing at an enjoyable pace, and I’m already on-board to see if Marten and Faye will get together. I mean, I know the answer, but my point stands.

Also because I’m a freak or something and like data compilation I went ahead and kept track of who showed up in what comic and made some numbers for it:

Not counting the one guest comic and two non-canon pages, Marten showed up in 45/50 pages, being in 90% of the comic so far.

Faye was in 38/50 pages, taking up 76% of the comic so far.

Pintsize comes in third place being in 15/50 comics, taking up a paltry 30% of the comic thus far when compared to the screen time Marten and Faye have taken up.

Likewise, Steve has been in only 8/50 pages, making up 16% of the comic up to this point.

Sara was in 5/50 pages, making up 10% of these first 50. That percentile will grow smaller and smaller with each update, believe you me.

Jim was in 2/50 glorious pages, making up 4% of the comic up to this point. And that was the best 4% this comic had to offer, let me tell you.

Raven, although still unnamed, I’m counting – she’s in 1/50 of the first batch of pages, making up 2% of screen time.

Tune in next week as we continue onwards to pages 51-100 where we’ll be introduced to the next major character in the series, who’s mere existence will further the plot more than anyone we’ve previously met. See you then.

[livmoose]

Salomania: paradigmatic archetype shift

The narrative of Salome is widely known today: the princess of Judea dances to please her stepfather and asks in return for the head of John the Baptist served on a [silver] platter. But the understanding of underlying implications by modern audiences do not correspond to the initial story.

Henri Regnault ‘Salome’, oil on canvas, 1870

In the Bible, the dancing daughter is a twelve-year-old girl without a name. Not only that, but she is not even the hero (or rather the antihero) of the story; her mother, Herodias is.

Obviously, the character did a 180 throughout the years. Salome acquired her name, her sexual awakening, and even half a dozen years to fit the ideological framework of ever changing Christian mythology. A fascinating change.

After the year-long persistence of my friend, I finally got to reading Wilde’s ‘Salome’ followed by our discussion of the play. What piqued my interest was the difference of how each of us perceived the title character: I saw her as a conscientious seductress but my friend argued she was an innocent 14-year-old caught in the web of her desires. It turned out, neither of us was wrong.

Salome’s character is terrifyingly charming, ambiguous and open to interpretations. Wilde wrote her within the dual framework of a virgin whore (a patriarchal dream). In the play, she is on many occasions compared to the moon, the duplicitous symbol on its own. It’s beautifully chaste and divinely pure - thus the connection to virgin goddess:

[Salome] The moon is cold and chaste. I am sure she is a virgin, she has a virgin's beauty. Yes, she is a virgin. She has never defiled herself. She has never abandoned herself to men, like the other goddesses.

Oscar Wilde ‘Salome’

But it is also deceptive and threatening, undoubtedly pointing at its explicit sexuality:

[Herod] The moon has a strange look to-night. Has she not a strange look? She is like a mad woman, a mad woman who is seeking everywhere for lovers. She is naked too. She is quite naked. The clouds are seeking to clothe her nakedness, but she will not let them. She shows herself naked in the sky.

Oscar Wilde ‘Salome’

The moon symbolism is pervasive in the story, appearing in three states and three colors, white, red and black. Each of these leads to the interpretations of Salome as a goddess manifestation:

virgin: Artemis or Cybele who refused to lose their virginity - chaste and pure (white) moon;

whore: Aphrodite/Astarte/Ishtar in charge of love and sex - passionate and seductive (red) moon;

death: mysterious and scary Hecate - malignant dark moon (covered by clouds).

Though this is not a popular interpretation, I still like how flowing it is, especially given that each of the goddesses named has her own relation to the moon.

There’s a curious detail that empowers such a viewpoint. Salome’s dance as devised by Wilde is obviously a striptease - the seven veils that are dropped one by one. He probably developed this idea from one of the contemporary poets:

She freed and floated on the air her arms Above dim veils that hid her bosom’s charms... The veils fell round her like thin coiling mists Shot through by topaz suns and amethysts.

Arthur O’Shaughnessy ‘The Daughter of Herodias’

Striptease, however, was not a new concept (although I like toying with the idea Wilde, the flaming homosexual came up with the ultimate entertainment of a heterosexual man). The goddess Ishtar is known to have dropped her robes and jewels one by one seven times before every gate of the underworld when she was searching for her husband Tammuz. Seems like Wilde went heavy on symbolism here.

Furthermore, there’s a comparison between Herodias and Cybele that (given the similarities between Salome and her mother I’ll be addressing later) finely plays into the whole goddess thing:

Herodias appeared, her coiffure crowned with an Assyrian mitre, which was held in place by a band passing under the chin. Her dark hair fell in ringlets over a scarlet peplum with slashed sleeves. On either side of the door through which one stepped into the gallery, stood a huge stone monster, like those of Atrides; and as Herodias appeared between them, she looked like Cybele supported by her lions. In her hands she carried a patera, a shallow vessel of silver used by the Romans in pouring libations.

Gustave Flaubert ‘Herodias’

Foreshadowing in this short story is nothing but gorgeous.

Biblical story

At the beginning, there was a word. Not a single word - but the mention of Salome in the Hebrew Bible is still scarce:

On Herod’s birthday the daughter of Herodias danced for the guests and pleased Herod so much that he promised with an oath to give her whatever she asked. Prompted by her mother, she said, “Give me here on a platter the head of John the Baptist.” The king was distressed, but because of his oaths and his dinner guests, he ordered that her request be granted and had John beheaded in the prison. His head was brought in on a platter and given to the girl, who carried it to her mother.

Matthew 14:6-11

The general outline of the story is the same: the girl dances before Herod and asks for John’s head on a platter. But the focus is completely different, the main player here is Herodias. The girl doesn’t yet have a name - that will be a later development, when, in one of the texts not talking about John the Baptist’s demise, the name of Herodias’s daughter is identified as Salome.

Mark gives a similar account with much the same details:

And when Herodias’ daughter herself came in and danced, and pleased Herod and those who sat with him, the king said to the girl, ‘Ask me whatever you want, and I will give it to you.’ And he swore to her, ‘Whatever you ask of me, I will give you, up to half my kingdom!’ Then she went out and said to her mother, ‘What should I ask for?’ And Herodias answered, ‘The head of John the Baptist.’

Mark 6:22-24

Nothing in these accounts indicates the sexual dimension of the girl’s character. That changes in the Middle Ages.

Medieval interpretations

Disclaimer: this is where I enter the realm of guesses and speculations. Counter-arguments accepted.

As the Roman Empire fell and before the Renaissance struck, Christianity had its rule indisputable and undeniable. Establishing power over the populace through social events such as Crusades and subjugation of various functional institutions, the young religion rapidly developed its mythology. As part of its strategy of executing control, different groups of population were oppressed (everyone who was not a white male, basically), women among of them.

This is what I assume might have happened to Salome’s narrative: at some point, dance became associated with pagan cults and, as such, not exactly prohibited but condemned and looked down upon along the lines of ‘legs are given to us by God to walk the path of piety not to dance’. As a result, Salome’s dance suffered a blow that changed the character substantially. Here is the sophist argumentation behind the shift:

It is hard to imagine that Herod was so impressed by her footwork or enamored of her execution of dance moves. This dance had as its object the same as most dances - the arousal of sexual desires.

Jacob Hudgins ‘Expository Files 15:5’

The bias behind the argument is immensely, deliciously enjoyable. Besides, it flows quite naturally into the modernist and decadent interpretations of Salome’s story.

There is also a feminist spectrum for this narrative shift. I’m not particularly fond of it as it is tainted with the radical context. Still, it is a viable argument:

Let us be careful of the influence women can have over men.

Jacob Hudgins ‘Expository Files 15:5’

The author also hilariously binds the story of Samson into this. After Delilah tricked him twice already, Samson still trusted her with the secret of another of his weaknesses because of the ‘foolish reasoning of the man focused on fulfilling sexual desires rather than thinking straight’.

In order to exert control over women, they were reduced to two archetypes: a chaste maiden (embodied by none else but Virgin Mary) and a whore (naturally empowered by God’s antagonist and manifested through various characters, especially Jezebel).

As Salome’s dance ended with John the Baptist’s beheading, she could not be viewed as a virtuous character. Instead, she was merged with the vicious attributes of her mother, Herodias, the true villain of the story. This added the sexualized aspect to her dance, whether Salome seduced her stepfather at the direction of Herodias (earlier explanations) or on her own accord (later interpretations).

In favor of this argument is the fact that both Herodias and Salome at some point were associated with Jezebel:

‘Ah! Is it thou, Jezebel? Thou hast captured thy lord’s heart with the tinkling of thy feet.’

Gustave Flaubert ‘Herodias’

Jezebel is the figure of the Hebrew Bible so vile and despised that she became the powerful archetype in itself and later migrated to the New World as part of the ideological framework of slavery. She was associated with false prophets and, through her use of cosmetics, with ‘painted women’ (aka prostitutes). Notably, according to Flaubert, Herod (prior to being introduced to Salome) was seduced by Herodias in a similar manner - an argument in favor of the merging of the two characters.

So, at this point, Salome already possesses her name and the sexual aspect that was nowhere to be seen in the earliest accounts. Modernist view further enriches her character and adds the aspect of control that Salome lacked.

Decadence and character development

In XIX century, Salome crosses another threshold and that’s when the fun begins.

At first, she is still the instrument of her mother. In Flaubert’s short story, Salome is nurtured with quite the demonic intention of seducing Herod:

The dancer was Salome, the daughter of Herodias, who for many months her mother had caused to be instructed in dancing, and other arts of pleasing, with the sole idea of bringing her to Machaerus and presenting her to the tetrarch, so that he should fall in love with her fresh young beauty and feminine wiles. The plan had proved successful, it seemed; he was evidently fascinated, and Herodias felt that at last she was sure of retaining her power over him!

Gustave Flaubert ‘Herodias’

Salome obviously dances an overtly sexual dance, and she knows what she’s doing as the desire of the spectators does not escape her; on the contrary, she enjoys it:

Her round white arms seemed ever beckoning and striving to entice to her side some youth who was fleeing from her allurements. She appeared to pursue him, with movements light as a butterfly.

[...]

Her arms, her feet, her clothing even, seemed to emit streams of magnetism, that set the spectators’ blood on fire.

Gustave Flaubert ‘Herodias’

She is also trusted with carrying out the instructions given to her prior. It seems like Salome knows what Herodias wants from her and has no problem delivering it - however, it still is not her own intention:

[...] she leaned over, smiled upon the tetrarch, and, with an air of almost childlike naivete, pronounced these words:

“I ask my lord to give me, placed upon a charger, the head of—” She hesitated, as if not certain of the name; then said: “The head of Iaokanann!”

Gustave Flaubert ‘Herodias’

With this, the next step is obvious. Transforming from an innocent, even victimized pre-teen girl into an experienced seductress, the possibility of conscious effort has the ability to introduce Salome as the new villain of the story.

Gustave Moreau ‘Salome and the Apparition of the Baptist's Head’, watercolor, 1876

No longer was she merely the dancing-girl who extorts a cry of lust and concupiscence from an old man by the lascivious contortions of her body; who breaks the will, masters the mind of a King by the spectacle of her quivering bosoms, heaving belly and tossing thighs; she was now revealed in a sense as the symbolic incarnation of world-old Vice, the goddess of immortal Hysteria, the Curse of Beauty supreme above all other beauties by the cataleptic spasm that stirs her flesh and steels her muscles, – a monstrous Beast of the Apocalypse, indifferent, irresponsible, insensible, poisoning.

Joris-Karl Huysmans ‘À rebours’

This was the citation that got me digging deeper into the whole Salome story.

Driven by the hype around the subject inspired by the artistic tradition from Renaissance to Enlightenment, Oscar Wilde takes his turn in elaborating Salome’s character, taking the narrative even further. He gifts Salome with depth by applying decadent makeup to her character. Previously being merely a pawn to Herodias, ordered or manipulated into seducing Herod and demanding the prophet’s head, Salome obtains her own voice. Through giving her power of manipulation, Wilde sculpts her into a contemporary icon of femme fatale.

Wilde turns [Salome's] beauty from an object of inspiration to an object of horror.

Carmen Trammell Skaggs ‘Modernity’s Revision of the Dancing Daughter: The Salome Narrative of Wilde and Strauss’ 

Still, it is arguably relevant to regard his Salome as a spoiled child, a princess who knows no boundaries to her desires and cares little for the price of human life (hence her negligence toward Narraboth, the Young Syrian who kills himself before her eyes, devastated by her interest in Jokanaan and ignoring his advances).

Despite this naivety that stems from Salome’s youth and royal status, she is a figure of impending doom, in accordance to the ambiguity of the moon as her primary symbol in the play. After fascinating Herod with her beauty and seducing him into getting what she desired - Jokanaan’s head and getting a forbidden kiss from it, she scares the tetrarch to the point where he orders to ‘kill that woman’.

Aubrey Beardsley ‘The Climax’, pen and ink drawing, 1893

The motive of Salome’s gruesome death is not unique to Wilde. Cavafy takes a different approach to the character’s development, even though he still focuses the narrative around her unrequited love:

Upon a golden charger Salome bears     the head of John the Baptist     to the young Greek sophist who recoils from her love, indifferent

The young man quips, “Salome, your own     head is what I wanted them to bring me.”     This is what he says, jokingly. And her slave came running on the morrow

holding aloft the head of the Beloved,     its tresses blond, upon a golden plate.     But all his eagerness of yesterday the sophist had forgotten as he studied.

He sees the dripping blood and is disgusted.     He orders this bloodied thing to     be taken from him, and he continues his reading of the dialogues of Plato.

Constantine Cavafy ‘Salome’

This poem lends yet another dimension to Salome’s character, paralleling the insanity that Wilde’s play establishes. For decadent Salome, her own death is nothing if it serves the purpose of fulfilling her desire.

Notably, Wilde adds another magnificent detail that further enhances the narrative and serves as the marker that, starting from his play, modern audiences viewed this Biblical story through the lens of his ingenuity: the Dance of the Seven Veils. This little particularity that is not commented on in the play whatsoever is arguably the most recognizable element of the narrative today (Richard Strauss’s opera of the same name, strongly inspired by Wilde’s play, is famous specifically for this dance). Even the truncated prophet and his head on a silver platter is not as unique - Titian’s ‘Salome’, for example, is still sometimes viewed as Judith with the head of Holofernes.

Tiziano Vecellio ‘Salome’, oil on canvas, circa 1515

Modern interpretations

Salome is still as popular today as ever. Naturally, the story migrated to the screens, and there are a few notable screen versions (one of them being 2013 staging by Al Pacino; Jessica Chastain is absolutely terrifying as Salome, it’s really worth watching).

But the one that is actually really different and displays the character in response to the time context is 1953 film with Rita Hayworth.

Rita Hayworth as a title character in ‘Salome’, 1953

The film is truly ridiculous. Hayworth’s Salome is virtuous ad nauseam, the embodiment of the contemporary female ideal. She is beautiful - all men have their heads turned as soon as she enters the room. She is strong-willed when she tries to seduce the tetrarch to save Jokanaan. She defies her mother, refuses to obey Herod and actually turns to Christianity by the end of the movie. This is the most Out Of Character Salome to imagine: she is neither the little girl, an instrument of her mother’s political game, nor is she the experienced seductress pursuing her voluptuous desires. (By comparison, in 1961 production ‘King of Kings’, Salome - amusingly portrayed by 17-year-old Brigid Bazlen - is completely villainous with not a word trying to redeem her.) But, undoubtedly, she is the product of her time, which probably demonstrates the major feature of this and any other popular character: adaptability.

This film also starts the tendency of establishing political relevance of Salome. Herodias pursues John the Baptist because he defiles her - but her reasoning is to secure the throne to Salome. Similarly, in most recent interpretations of Wilde’s play, political commentary is not uncommon. According to these, Salome seduces Herod not only to get the head of Jokanaan, but also to get closer to the throne. To reinforce the idea, the focus of Salome while she dances seems to shift from pleasing Herod and his guests to the tetrarch alone - an intimate and subtly calculated move of a fine manipulator. To be honest, I personally still enjoy the dimension of Salome deep in the pit of her insanity more.

Modern poetry also has its take on the story. The focus is more or less dependent on a feminist point of view, with a touch of women empowerment achieved through exacting revenge on men who abused them:

Women are told to keep their legs shut. Women are told to keep their mouths shut. Some women are kept silent for so long, They become experts in the silent theft of power. The fifth veil has dropped.

Clementine von Radics ‘Salome Redux’

And talking about interpretations and weird turns they take. Skaggs discusses in her essay the possible homosexual subtext of Wilde's play. She specifically points to one instance in the play when Salome promises Narraboth a flower, a signal of homosexuality in Wilde’s time. Skaggs and other critics argue that Salome’s sexuality is presented as typically masculine, which makes the relationship between her and the Young Syrian border on homoerotic.

It's a big thing in representing Salome up to the point of the part being played by a male actor in recent stagings. Case and point: ‘Salomé’ by Royal Shakespeare Company. And then there’s Ken Russell’s 1988 film ‘Salome’s Last Dance’. The dance itself is not dropping 7 veils precisely, but is surely is unveiling - with a surprising twist. My jaw certainly dropped. Although I think this interpretation is going a bit overboard, Wilde would have ironically appreciated the critical effort. 

Conclusion

Salome’s narrative is nearly paradigmatic as it is exemplary of adaptability of many stories and characters that suffered similar changes through the ages (think Arthur, Robin Hood, and don’t even get me started on ‘The Iliad’). It is not a bad thing (oh no, just look at the beauty of Wilde’s ‘Salome’, which would not be possible without the initial shift). But it does show how myths intertwine with human psyche, how we use them to intensify the ideas and deliver them to our audiences, and how these myths reflect the contemporary questions people ask and values we seek. It’s an infinitely glorious thing, and I am deeply fascinated by it.

Bonus

Salome today is an undeniably tragic character. But there’s also this.

[roggling]

A Ride to Remember

1

I did the thing! So this is my A Walk to Remember Kidge AU. I absolutely loved the movie (I have yet to read the book) and I loved how sassy and how bad*ss Carter was and then turned to be so loving towards her after she got into his heart. So this piece was born. Enjoy!

In the small town of Altea, there was never much of a ruckus: a mere squabble between two drunks here and there and a house party once every other week and Keith Kogane. Now, the boy himself screams 'bad boy': long hair up to his shoulders in a modern twist of a mullet, black bangs covering his violet eyes, leather jacket decorating his usual wear, and a frown forever gracing his features.

Keith has become infamous for his 'silent but deadly' look and for his loud motorcycle ruining the usual peace. But never has the boy done anything as bad as last week.

The streets were empty that Friday night; no living soul was out ... well, except for Keith and his friends. 'Voltron', as they liked to call themselves, were out and about on their motorcycles. At the front, Keith and Lance were racing their bikes, both affectionately named Red and Blue respectively, to the park, the rest of the group loosely following behind.

"Keith, Lance, slow down!" Shiro called out from behind the competitive hard-heads.

Lance looked back to their 'leader', "No way, Jose! I'm not letting 'Mullet Head' win this round just because you're scared of a little crash."

With that snarky quip, Lance grazed a neighbor's trash can, causing a loud ruckus as it fell noisily on the ground. Lance quickly gained control of the handlebars again and straightened his bike to avoid another 'accident'.

Beside Shiro, Allura, riding in her pink motorcycle, chuckled, "I think 'little crash' might be an understatement considering your skills combined with your speed, Lance."

Lance huffed and called out, "What are you trying to say, Allura?"

Suddenly, a loud roar overwhelmed their ears as a familiar red motorcycle pulled up alongside Lance's and the rider smirked. "She means to say, Lance," Keith teased, "That you suck."

With that, Keith took off in Lance's opposite direction. The Latino huffed frustratedly and took off after Keith spewing lots of pissed off and playful insults to his 'rival'. The group rolled their eyes and turned around their motorcycles as well.

Lotor, who was riding alongside Allura, chuckled, "Those two will never change. First, there were to the ice cream truck, and, now, there are races back home after a party."

Lotor then revved his engine and went faster in order to catch up next to Keith, "You do realize you are forty above the speed limit."

Keith looked down at his speedometer and his eyes widened, turning back to Lotor to respond, "Really, well, might as well make it fifty."

Lotor rolled his eyes as Keith ignored his warning and whizzed past him, expertly evading every obstacle in his way; swerving away from fallen branches, avoiding every puddle, and whizzing past trash cans.

Lotor fell back far enough to see Keith, but as fast as Keith. Lance gave up two miles into the race after three more close calls and he called after Keith, "Yo! Dude, it's over!"

Keith, who merely heard a far away yell, turned around briefly, "Wh-"

Keith never got to respond completely because just as soon as he turned around, he heard a loud scream before his bike turned over, twisting in the air. Keith grunted as his body thrust forward and his body slid across the hard asphalt of his neighborhood's street. He rolled and rolled before finally stopping twenty foot in front of the cause of the bump.

On the ground in front of him laid an unconscious body, a red stain growing on his hip. Keith froze and widened his eyes as he took the sight in. He hit a body.

Keith scrambled up to his feet and ran towards the unconscious body and he gasped as he recognized him as Hunk Garrett, one of Lance's childhood friends that used to hang out with Voltron before leaving once the group began their dangerous endeavors.

Keith took Hunk's wrist and checked for a pulse, releasing a breath of relief once finding it. Soon, he heard the engines of his friend's motorcycles near and they stopped beside him. Shiro approached him, "Keith, did you- did you hit someone!"

Keith cupped his hand over his cousin's mouth, "Shut up, someone might hear!" Lance ran up to the body and cried out, "Dude you hit my friend!" Allura seemed traumatized as she watched the exchange and the body, "Is- Is he dead?"

Keith huffed, "Of course not. At least, not yet."

Lance scrunched his eyebrows and yelled, "Yet?!"

"Hey! Who's out there!" The group turned their heads to see Chief Kolivan call out from an open window a few houses ahead.

The group froze and when they heard the loud shut of a window, they bolted. Lance immediately sped out of the street in seconds, Lotor and Allura in tow. Shiro looked at the boy and Keith's pleading look before going to Hunk's other side and helping Keith lift him up by his armpit and drag him to rest on a tree.

Shiro then heard Kolivan's door open and he mounted Black before speeding off as well. "Dammit!" Keith cursed as he checked Hunk over again. The chubby boy only had a scratch on his head and on his belly (hence, the red stain on his yellow pajama shirt). The boy was lolling his head back and forth as he fought to come back to reality when Keith finally decided to bolt.

However, once Keith reached his bike, Kolivan had shone his flashlight on Keith already. Keith shut his right eye and peered up at Kolivan in an attempt to look up at the Police Chief, "Evening, Chief. Wonderful time for an evening drive, huh?"

Kolivan showed off Keith a pair of handcuffs and ordered, "Hands above your head."

Keith groaned and did as told before Kolivan grabbed his wrists and handcuffed him, leading him to his patrol car.

Keith limped into the living room, pausing to eye his father. Tex was working in the kitchen, working on some scrambled eggs in the frying pan. Keith sat on the bar stool and rested his elbow on the kitchen island, "Dad, my foot really hurts, I don't think I can make it to school today."

At that, Tex turned around, Keith's scrambled eggs in hand, and glared with such ferocity that Keith had to turn away, "I don't give a jack's ass about your hurt foot. You're going to school."

Keith sighed, "But Dad-"

"Do you know what it feels like to hear that your son got in a motorcycle accident at two in the morning? Not only that, but the poor Garrett kid was also hit and, even though the police claim there's no evidence, I have a funny feeling that it was because of you."

Keith lowered his head and sighed before he heard his father continue in a softer tone, "You've changed, Keith. Where's the fun-loving kid I know you are deep inside?"

Keith ignored his father's questions as he wolfed down a spoonful of scrambled eggs.

"Is it because of your mother?"

Keith put down his spoonful and glared at his dad.

"She's coming back, Keith."

Keith scoffed as he wolfed down another spoonful, "Tell that to the MIA letter taped to my bedroom wall."

Tex sighed before sitting down next to his son, "Keith-"

Keith swallowed the last of the scrambled eggs and stood up, grabbing the jacket at the end of the island, "I'm out."

Tex inhaled a breath of annoyance, "You're not going anywhere with that bike."

"I'll walk," with that Keith shut the door and made his way down the steps carefully as he walked around Altea.

Keith walked around the town with his hands in his pockets, his head in a completely different world. A world where he is happy. A world where he has his mom back. A world where she wasn't missing.

He went back in time when he was ten - the day of her departure. She wore her uniform and a big smile on her face. He gagged as she leaned in to kiss his father goodbye. She laughed when she heard her son's protests and knelt down to reach his height, "Hey, champ. Mommy's going to go away for a while. I don't know when I'm going to be coming back."

Keith wiped a tear away and his mom cupped his cheeks, "Don't worry, you'll have Dad to keep you company. And since I'm going to be gone for a long time, I have a present for you."

Keith gasped as his mom took out a black, grey, and purple blade from her pocket. He looked up into her grey eyes and she chuckled at the awe sparkling in his violet eyes, "This is a Luxite blade: an extremely strong and powerful blade. My dad gave it to me when I turned fifteen."

Keith took the blade in his hands and passed his small hands over the purple highlights, "Is it mine?"

His mom laughed as she took the blade from his chubby hands, "Yes, but for now, your dad will hold onto it until you're fifteen."

The black-haired soldier handed her husband the blade and looked back at her teary-eyed son, "Oh, champ. Don't worry, I'll be back soon enough. But for now..."

She opened her arms and Keith threw himself on his mom, sniffling as he dug his head into her shoulder, ignoring the harsh material of her uniform. Keith fingered the sewed last name, KOGANE, as he sniffled, "I'm gonna miss you."

Krolia lets a single teardrop as she sobbed, "I'm gonna miss you too, champ. I'll be back, promise."

Keith was in a dream-like state for a long while before he heard an angelic voice accompanied by a guitar interrupt his thoughts. He stopped in his tracks and searched for the voice, finding the voice at his right. He turned and found himself in front of Altea's Baptist Church.

He groaned, remembering a couple memories (most of which was of Pastor Holt reprimanding him for playing in church) from his childhood. However, the angelic voice was too enticing to ignore and Keith walked in.

He stood in shock as he saw Katie Holt, the pastor's daughter, standing in the middle of the altar. Beside her on a stool was her older brother, Matthew "Matt" Holt, strumming away on a guitar as she sung her heart out. 

The two didn’t seem to notice Keith watching them as they continued their practice. Keith watched as his childhood acquaintance sang her heart out in a way he never thought possible. It was only when Keith stepped on a squeaky plank that the two siblings paused.

Keith immediately bolted ... well, as much as he can with a sprained ankle. Keith bumped into a row of seats in his rush and caught himself before he cursed. He was in the house of the Lord after all.

Behind him, he heard a faint, “Wait!” before he heard footsteps thundering towards him. He groaned when Katie finally caught up to him, concern etched in her features, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he responded, “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Katie pointed down at Keith’s foot, “Well, you aren’t exactly in tip-top shape.”

Keith cocked an eyebrow before brushing past her and repeating, “I’m fine.”

Katie crossed her arms, “Then why’d you come here?”

Keith paused, “Excuse me?”

“No one just enters a church by accident, Keith. Especially someone who’s been avoiding it for years,” Katie sassed, “Why’d you come?”

Keith stood and thought out his answer before responding, “I don’t need to answer to you.”

With that, he turned around and left the pastor's daughter speechless.

[proudtobeadepphead]

GQ Germany Interview:

Interviewer: Mister Depp, let's talk about coolness: You often been called "cool". What does that mean to you? Who would you call cool?

Johnny: Cool can mean so many different things. I have always thought that an individual personality is cool. Someone who is just himself. It's actually quite simple - I like those people cool. Patti Smith is cool, she is unadulterated. Iggy Pop is cool, he is unadulterated. Jim Morrison was cool and unadulterated. Marlon Brando was cool and unadulterated. Hunter was cool. You know, only today someone told me about his work as a counselor for children with HIV. Children who have been adopted. It is so brave of him to give something back to others in this way. He impressed me so much that I wanted to be hugged by him. I worked a lot with the Make-A-Wish Foundation and got to know these children. Children with whom fate has not meant well, who have to deal with serious illnesses and pain. In their eyes is not fear, but only bravery and courage. That's really cool. Would I call myself cool? I do not know if that really applies to me, maybe people will see me that way because I'm rather quiet.

I: In the summer you go on a european tour with your band Hollywood Vampires. How important is music in your life?

Johnny: Music is everything, even in my work. The access to my work as an actor is the same as that to my work as a musician. I deal with it, I learn, I listen. By teaching myself how to play the guitar, just by listening to records, I had a pretty good starting position to train my hearing for the shades in the human voice. Be it the timbre, the accent or the attack. As a kid, I've been puzzling various people, and probably this trained hearing helped me a lot. I constantly use it in my work. I think we all have a soundtrack in our heads at all times. For certain scenes I use music. If I want to mentally get back into a situation, or if I have to feel or show something, then it works with a song within seconds. Certain songs immediately evoke memories. My memory is sorted by music. That's why I use music very often.

I: What does "male" mean to you?

Johnny: A real man is a man who keeps his word. The definition of a man is to be true, loyal and present. He must fight against any injustice, be it on the small everyday level or on a large scale, with or without fear. The masculine is to go out into the world as oneself, when there is nothing else. And being sincere and trustworthy.

I: You made a campaign for Dior for the second time - do you think that the image that Dior and photographer Jean-Baptiste Mondino created for "Sauvage" reflects your personality?

Johnny: I think when Jean-Baptiste looks at someone, it's like dissecting his personality. He shifts layer after layer to find the aspect that interests or inspires him, and then he catches some of you in it. This is shown, for example, by the wolf. The wolf is a lonely figure, right? There is definitely a part of me that tends to be a loner. You can never find me in the middle of a crowd.

I: So you're more of a loner?

Johnny: I prefer to stay in the shade and like to hold back. I feel better in the dark. Jean-Baptiste Mondino has captured this side of me. I am a shy person. It's interesting if I play a role, I have no restrictions at all. I can do anything in front of the camera. It's a bit strange to feel better in front of the camera in a role than in your own skin. If I had to get up at a dinner party and say a toast ... I would be a disaster! As a character, a completely different world opens up. Jean-Baptiste has captured something of mine, the part that does not want to talk about all these strange words, or even to perceive them at all. "Celebrity" or "prominence" and all the other nonsense that I can not really connect with.

I: Do you think that Mondino has incorporated some of your roles in the campaign? Did you remember something about the movie characters you played?

Johnny: No, it does not have that. Do you know what has reminded me more than anything else? For an actor it is not the most important thing to act, but to react. That's what it's all about, and you have to do one of the hardest things in the world, being easy. Being in a state of being. It felt very natural, not at all like a roll. I gave him this state of being, and he laid free, layer by layer, until he found what he was interested in. He revealed it, and I accepted it. He allowed me to get involved, and that's the beauty of it. It had nothing planned, cumbersome or intentionally cool or unusual. Just the look that he has for the light, how it hits the mountains. He is a master in it. Honestly, I had more fun with the few days of filming in the desert than with most films, because it felt natural.

I: Is there a person you would like to play once? A character of history or the present, or someone who inspires you in particular?

Johnnny: Oh yes, there are people who fascinate me and books that I'm obsessed with. It is possible to really love a fictional character. For example, the "catcher in the rye". No one should actually watch a movie version of Holden Caulfield. Holden Caulfield must look like the imagination of the reader, as described by J. D. Salinger. Then you have these great personalities, Picasso for example: you can never do it justice, and that's why you should rather stay away from it. Or take "On the Road" by Jack Kerouac. That was my Bible as a child and still is in many ways. It has given me so much and helped me grow up. I never thought that this book should be filmed. I did not see the movie a few years ago, but I know the director, Walter Salles. He's a nice guy, but the character Sal Paradise from "On the Road" is Jack Kerouac himself, right? It is difficult to think of someone else or to imagine someone else. It's just too good to falsify.

I: Are there any Hollywood icons that inspired you during your career that made you do what you want?

Johnny: Ultimately, I have always been inspired by individual personalities, whether on television or in films. Real individuals, very different types of comedians, entertainers, actors or singers. These unique individuals really inspired me, for example Charlie Callas or Don Rickles, Foster Brooks, who was able to imitate a drunk, Dean Martin, Marlon Brando, Yul Brynner. These were all clearly defined and completely unique individuals, and for me that is the most important thing. They never tried to imitate anyone. They just went their own way and it was unique. The present generation and the generation that comes after me think that they do not have to experience this individuality, these people who are absolutely unique. In the meantime, everyone just wants to become famous to be famous. But why would you want to be famous? I do not know, and I do not care. It never really mattered to me.

I: Your most famous character is undoubtedly Captain Jack Sparrow. How much fun is it to play this character? How connected do you feel with him?

Johnny: To play a man like Jack Sparrow - who can just say anything, even if it does not make any sense at all, and then somehow has to try to make sense of the whole thing, which in turn makes it more tangled and abstract, and he can get away with it … It is strange. When I play Captain Jack, I have to grin almost all the time. Being him makes me laugh. He can do anything, he can say everything. "Hello, sweetheart!" He can be incredibly naughty. His character is the opposite of mine. I can also be naughty, but I've never been so extroverted. I have always been very shy. To become Captain Jack Sparrow, to find him in me, to allow myself to drop that curtain, and to be simply absurd and disrespectful and to try out nonsense in a roll, is an endless experiment.

I: How much of that is written in the script? And how much of yourself is in the role?

Johnny: I have been in this business for a long time, and I have always rewritten individual sentences. Sometimes you have a script and it sounds fantastic, but in reality it just does not work because people do not speak the way it stands there. In general, people do not talk as much in reality as in movies. That's why I've always rewritten individual parts. But I write everything with Captain Jack. I stopped reading scene instructions many years ago. Sure, when I read a script for the first time, I read the dialogues and instructions to understand what the movie as a whole is. But after that I never read the instructions again. I do not want to know what to do or where to stand, it should just happen. So you have more freedom. Of course, the director can point out the script if he wants. But I would prefer to know nothing about it. Sometimes a scene is self-explanatory.

I: What criteria do you use to select your films?

Johnny: It depends. For a script, I can usually say it after the first ten pages, or even after the first three or four pages. Normally I give ten pages to a script. After that, I know if I'm the right person for the movie. I agree if I feel like I can contribute something to the film, to the vision. Something that has not been done a thousand times before regarding the performance or the interpretation of a role. That's all. If something touches me or makes me curious, then I can think of pictures of the character I am reading about. First thoughts come to me, and nine times out of ten, the first thoughts are the best. Kerouac also said that the first thought is the best. Hemingway too. When asked how to become a good writer, which is the biggest challenge, he said, "All you have to do is write a true sentence." It sounds so easy, but it's incredibly difficult. (X)

[firstumcschenectady]

“God's Plumb lines and Our Values” based on Amos 7:7-15 and Mark 6:14-29

There are days when I struggle to care about ancient kings and the problematic things they said and did to ancient prophets. Tracking royal lineages, and power battles in far off lands from times long past isn't actually all that interesting.

And it certainly doesn't seem like a formula for speaking a relevant word to God's beloveds today.

This may even be one of those days.

One of the more distressing parts of the Bible, though, is that when talking about the power battles of men long dead in cultures I need explanatory books to understand, the dynamics of human life appear to be fairly constant over time. We may not have kings. We may not engage in beheadings in this country. But somehow, when it comes right down to it, things aren't actually as different as I'd like them to be.

Which, actually, is the whole point as far as I can tell.

The teachings of Jesus are absurdly brilliant in their social analysis, questioning of norms, and in the way they make space for people to come to their own conclusions and then claim truth for themselves. Much of the rest of the New Testament uses the examples of Jesus to do the very same work. And, Jesus was a product of his Jewish upbringing, a tradition with a wealth of knowledge in asking great questions, using stories to help people think, and using prophets to clarify that God's concern includes concern for those who are marginalized.

Or, to say it more simply, the Bible helps us see things as they are, so we can know what we are up against, and work to change it.

In our text from Amos, Amos is having visions, the king sees it as threatening and thus tries to threaten Amos, Amos responds claiming the King has no authority over him because he is doing what God called him to do.

Well, isn't that power dynamics in a nutshell?

Someone, with God's support, speaks uncomfortable truths. Someone with power gets threatened by it and responds by trying to silence the truth-teller. But the one who is working with God's help isn't silenced by threats. Because God's power isn't a part of human power struggles, and God helps us face our fears. Amos even says, “I'm not a prophet, I'm just saying what God tells me to say.” (Fair question on how we know that, but that's for another day.)

The King Herod / John the Baptist story in Mark is similar in its function. As I was trying to remember all the details of the relationships of the characters and the political plots they were maneuvering, I came across a line in the Wikipedia article on Herodias that made me stop, “Herodias' second husband was Herod Antipas (born before 20 BC; died after 39 AD) half-brother of Herod II (her first husband). He is best known today for his role in events that led to the executions of John the Baptist and Jesus of Nazareth.”1

The gist of things is that King Herod had been married off by his father in a political allegiance, and yet he was seeking to consolidate power. He thought that his brother's wife would be more useful to him in that, so he exiled his first wife and Herodias divorced her husband, and they married. Ironically, perhaps, he was eventually displaced by the angry father of his first wife. Similarly, the things he did to consolidate his power and then to protect himself from accusations against him are exactly the things history remembers him for.

So what's that story in a nutshell? The King ignored common decency, political allegiances, family ties, and generally accepted morality in order to seek power. The story told in the Gospels is maybe not factual. Instead, it is reflective of the differences between the moral standards of the common people and the fast and loose dealings of those on the top of the pyramid with the lives of those on the bottom.

Our story says that as Jesus was gaining fame, King Herod was living in fear that he was John the Baptist resurrected. That would mean that the Government's power to KILL wasn't powerful enough. #Foreshadowing. It also suggests that the King feels a little guilty.

Common morality of the day wouldn't have permitted a woman to dance in public. So judgement is also present in that. The story also seems to parody how decisions get made about people's lives. One person is drunk and makes excessive promises, another seeks an easy way out of a difficult situation, and voila, a prophet is killed. As one scholar put it, “A more sarcastic social caricature could not have been spun by the bitterest Galilean peasant.”2

Underlying this story is the knowledge that Jesus was a disciple of John's, that Jesus largely took up John's mantle, that the early Christians think of John as the messenger sharing that Jesus was coming, and that the powers of the world would also kill Jesus, and he wouldn't conveniently go away either.

What strikes me in this story is how many times I've heard it. That is, a person with large amount of power in something – government, an industry, finances – wants to accumulate more, does so by illicit means, and then does even worse things to cover it up. And, usually, they get away with it. And, often, everyone knows but no one feels like they can do anything about it. This is the narrative of much of the #MeToo movement. This is the narrative of cover ups in COVID policies. This is the narrative of pretty much every scandal you read about in the news.

In this case, the prophet is the one willing to share the news that others are too scared to say, and to name that immoral behavior is – in fact – immoral.

I think it is fair to say that being a prophet is no fun. And it is very dangerous. (Although I have friends who I think it is fair to say are prophets, and they tend to think some parts of it ARE fun. It may just be that I'm a naturally more cautious person than they are.)

To bring the world from how it is to how God wants it to be requires prophets though. Did you know that the vast majority of theft in the US is wage theft, which almost always goes unpunished?3 One report concludes that wage theft (not paying workers what is owed to them) costs $50 BILLION a year in the US, as compared to the grand total of all robberies, burglaries, larcenies, and motor vehicle thefts in the nation costing their victims less than $14 billion.

Yet somehow petty theft often results in incarceration, and wage theft – in the rare case it is prosecuted – results in fines. The system that lets those with power and money play fast and loose with the lives of people in poverty is still going strong, and our “justice” system empowers it.

This is, of course, one of innumerable examples of how the structures and systems of the world keep on finding new ways to look the same, and what should be outdated in the Bible turns out to be just the same today.

The world tempt us to look away, to justify the actions of those in power, to ignore the cries of the marginalized, to care more about “the economy” then the lowest paid workers in it, to side with the modern kings of the world. There is something deep in human nature that assumes that the ones in power got their by their own merits and the same is true of those without power. But it isn't so.

God keeps helping us open our hearts so we can see more clearly. God reminds us that the purpose of an economy is to find ways to care for everyone in it, the purpose of a society is to create real justice for everyone so everyone can thrive, and the purpose of a church is to help people expand their own humanity so they can let their hearts be broken by other people's pain. God's values aren't the world's. God sees fully, profound, beloved value in each and every person, and wants good for all.

And we, dear ones, seek to do the same. May God's values transform our own, again and again, and again. Amen

1 https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Herodias Accessed 7/8/21.

2 Ched Myers, Binding the Strong Man (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books, 1998 and 2008,) 216.

3 https://www.epi.org/publication/epidemic-wage-theft-costing-workers-hundreds/

July 11, 2021

[2018chicagoteentour]

DAY ONE

Today was very productive from our WeCCann group. We visited some colleges and helped clean up the streets of Chicago. We went to a church and learned some new things about that specific church. After that we went to the united center and saw the Michael Jordan statue. My experience today with WeCCaan was very humbling. Seeing what certain parts of Chicago is like was much different from what Georgia is like. It made me feel better about myself knowing that my team and I tried to help clean up the community a little bit. It might not have been a huge impact but every little things counts. -Jaydeen

I had a great time so far. I went to a Cuban restaurant and the food was good. I don’t know if I am going to sleep good tonight but I will try and make it work. -

Today was an interesting day. While I was awake during the morning time, I was glad to pass through the area where the Jacksons live and were raised. Today’s volunteer work was very interesting. I got to see and learn about the people in that area and how they have access to help and support from the pastor at Progressive Beulah Pentecostal Church. It was very informative and I am glad I was able to learn something new! -Kristen

We woke up on the bus this morning to a beautiful sunrise and a "Good Morning Vietnam!" from Dr. Mike. I prefer Robin Williams, but Dr. Mike had the desired effect. Coming up from Indiana, we hit right into Chicago from the south. Riding into South Chicago was the humbling experience I expected during this trip. Decadent and painfully impoverished, it was a sea of brown in many ways. However, upon arrival of our location for community service, Progressive Beulah Pentecostal Church, we met Pastor Barclay, a character of charisma, integrity, and I'm sure of much hope to his community. With his and Dr. Mike's leadership, we met our objective with full force, to clean and beautify the adjacent houses of filth and excess vegetation. -Warren

I loved working with the church today and meeting great people that like to help in the community. It was a great experience to work with everyone and having the same goal to make Chicago better then the way we found it. -Kaitny

Today we got to help a community. It was great being able to have that experience and help someone out for a change. We also got to visit the Michael Jordan statue (which I've never been to before) at United. -Bobby

My day was good. From what we did it inspired me to strive for greatness and no one stop you from doing what you want to do. Then I learned from the community service that it’s always good to give back to the community. I enjoyed the bus rides and going to the United center and seen one of my favorite players statue in the middle of the place. Now I’m just ready for tomorrow. -Iterrius

Today we went to 2 colleges and I discovered were micheal Jordan and the bulls played and I saw micheal Jordan statue. This was fun and it inspired me to change with community service I will help start keeping where I live cleaner. -Zion

Dr. Weaver’s generous stops to see famous landmarks has allowed me to see a lot in person. First and foremost I believe that the work we did around the three homes by church was a phenomenal job and an excellent example of how teamwork makes the dream work. Today I was able to visit two HBCU campuses, and famous landmarks, we visited Chicago State University, and the Malcolm X College, and in addition we also went to the Millennium Park which is home to the famous Cloud Gate. Finally for dinner we got to dine in a Cuban restaurant and I was able to experience some exotic foods that I would not have been able to have back home in Martinez, GA. -Daniel M

Today we got to help a community. It was great being able to have that experience and help someone out for a change. We also got to visit the Michael Jordan statue (which I've never been to before) at United. –

Today was a really great day. I learned a lot about the city of Chicago and was able to participate in a great volunteer opportunity. We took lots of great pictures and made a lot of good memories. I can’t wait to see what tomorrow has in store!! -Daniel A

Today I toured Chicago State University and seen many other Chicago landmarks. Our main question yesterday was what was something that we expected to see and do in Chicago. In one day I was able to fulfill both of the things I wanted to do which were go to Millennium Park and see the cloud and also give back to the community. I enjoyed everything I learnt and seen today and it’s all because of Dr. Mike. -Roderick T

Today was an incredible experience throughout Chicago. I had such an amazing time at the community service event this morning. I had an interesting conversation with a person who was previously in prison, in a gang and was homeless. The conversation was very eye-opening and thought provoking. The rest of the day touring Chicago was even more awesome. I’m incredibly excited for tomorrow! -Giovan

I really enjoyed talking to Pastor Barclay about his experiences and how he has given and been given everything that he needs or needed. This year’s volunteer task was so peaceful and humbling. Everyone worked hard and worked together and no one complained. We all had a willing spirit and knew what we were there to do. -TeShania

My experience today was interesting. I learned a lot. Mainly, the difference between a Baptist and Pentecostal church or congregation. I also had a breathtaking experience seeing the United Center and the interior of it. Lastly, the most important thing was I made lots of new friends and had fun doing service learning. -Bascia

My experience today was great, I got the opportunity to visit many breathtaking cites. I learned the difference between a baptist and Pentecostal church. I also enjoyed visiting the United Center and taking pictures in front of the statue inside. All together I got the opportunity to bond with new people and I enjoyed giving back. -Destynei

Today was a very good day and we got a lot accomplished. We visiting a college, and helped the community and church by doing lawn work and helping pick up trash. We went touched down in Chicago, and we started giving back to the community. Giving back to people that were a little less fortunate than us was a good humbling experience. It showed that in some communities it’s not as nice as some places and there is trash, animals, etc everywhere. To be able to help those people out that need it most was a feeling, and I hope to be able to do it again. It was a lot of fun and I can’t wait for tomorrow. -Dylan

Today was a great experience. We went to do community service for and local church in Southside Chicago we got our hands dirty in the soil and pulled some weeds up.  We first went to the church and talked to the preacher and he gave us great advice and knowledge. The thing that stuck with me was that money didn't matter and it didn't define you. Also I had an ok experience at the Malcolm x College because we didn't go in or even talk about just like we did at Chicago university. Then at the Michele Jordan statue I had fun because we took pictures and walked around. And the statue showed me that you can work hard to do great things no matter where you come from cause that was Michael Jordan’s life. -Marcus

Today was very eye opening and humbled me as a young teenager growing up in a world like this. Seeing that people are not as fortunate lets me know that there are always people that need help. I’m am very grateful that I could help out the church today. -Joshua

We had a chance to tour Chicago  it's a very busy town! I enjoyed the volunteering event at the Progressive Buelah Pentecostal church cleaning and beautifying the community.  My favorite part was the church members working together to pick up the weed, dead grass and cleaning of the area. A visit to Greektown was an interesting place, reminded me of our New York city,  so busy and never sleeps. I am grateful for very minute today thank you Dr. Mike. -Rania

I had a fun experience help out the pastor with cutting weeds down also I love doing community service. I got to see the Michael Jordan’s statue and that was fun as well. -Jaylen

My volunteer service experience gave me a great feeling. I felt so welcomed by the Pastor and his members. I was able to have my “before and after” experience and I felt accomplished by the work I/we provided. The places we visited were nice too. It’s always fun to visit new places and to see other people just wanting to have a nice time with their family and/or friends like I am.  I appreciate the opportunity to have this experience with an awesome group and leader. -Bridgett

When doing community I realized how much it meant to give back to the community. In order to receive a blessing you must give one. The change that you put into a community is all dependent on you and how you do it. I enjoyed also seeing the attractions and the scenery was amazing. This showed me that Atlanta isn’t the only city with amazing artwork and monuments. -Roderick M

The beginning of yesterday started as a test of grit and perseverance. We split into three groups and helped the lovely and welcoming Progressive Beulah Pentecostal Church with cleaning of the community and home. Then we had spare time to venture off, I took some pictures of the graffiti and we also took group pictures with the sculptures. We finally arrived back to the YMCA and freshened up. We ended the night by splitting into groups to find something to eat. -Linda

Yesterday I experienced helping doing yard work and that’s something that I’ve never done before .I got to see the side of Chicago I’ve never seen and it changed my view of Chicago .Sleeping in the yoga room humbled me and made me realize how underprivileged people live. -Jaden

The Progressive Beulah Pentecostal Church was not only a amazing experience, it was a motivational one. The congregation is a mixture of individuals that have overcame drug addiction, prostitution as well as individuals seeking help and recovery from those struggles. I appreciated the hospitality from everyone but most importantly after the volunteering work was complete - there was a clear before and after difference so a job well done. -Diego

Today, I visited Chicago State University and Malcom X College. Also, we briefly visited United Arena and saw the Michael Jordan statue. In conclusion, I was able to see numerous stunning sites around the city of Chicago. I enjoyed my self today and would recommend my experience to others. -Dean

When doing community service I realized how much it meant to give back to the community. In order to receive a blessing you must give one. The change that you put into a community depends on you and how you do it. It made me happy when I saw the work that the other teens and I completed in the neighborhood . Helping a community can always go a long way because you never know who’s life you could be impacting or who you could meet. I also enjoyed seeing the attractions and the scenery in Chicago. This showed me that Atlanta isn’t the only city with amazing artwork and monuments. -Rodney T