#amature essay

[clementines-writing-corner]

introductions of a sort

Hello strangers on the internet!

After years of lurking on the outskirts of the tumblr-sphere, and only ever dipping my toes in to test the waters, I have finally caved and created one of my very own. Though it is the year 2023 and far past the tumblr golden age of my generation, there seems to still be a thriving community of creatives and dreamers on this corner of the internet that I have long craved to be a part of. And now I am! ᕱ__ᕱ

I've been a reader my whole life, and a writer for a good bit of it, consuming and creating mostly fiction/fantasy. In recent years, however, my focus has been more so on academia than creative pursuits. This is for good reason, of course, I am a college student after all. But writing skills are like muscles; the less you use them, the more you lose them.

A few weeks ago, before the new semester started, I had an idea, a scene that I wanted to write. In the past few years, it had become a habit to simply brush ideas to the side because I was too busy with school. But it was still summer break, I had nothing else to do that afternoon, so I sat down to write something for fun.

When I tell you I struggled, I mean I struggled. I didn't even finish writing out the whole scene idea before I slammed my laptop shut because I was getting a stress headache. I was stretching out muscles that had been ignored for 2 years, maybe more. It was honestly quite ridiculous how exhausted I was after less than 30 minutes of writing.

So, when I was given the assignment to create a blog/social media about anything my heart so desired in one of the writing classes I am taking this semester, I jumped at the opportunity to start building back up those barely used creative writing muscles once again. And that brings me to right here, right now, on this very tumblr page.

This is already quite long for a first post so I'll try to wrap things up quickly from here on out.

If you haven't already picked up what I've been trying to lay down, this blog will serve as my creative writing gym, a place to build back up the muscles I have lost. I'll be posting once or twice weekly with updates on my progress, which may include any writing I've done, inspiration I've found, enthusiastic analysis of writers/pieces I admire, and any other tidbits I believe pertain to my writing journey, such as character design, etc.

My current goal is to come up with a cohesive outline for a novel, including characters, setting, and plot, by the end of the year (December 31, 2023). It may prove to be too ambitious, but go big or go home, right?

So, whether you are in it with me for the long haul, stick around for just a little while, or are simply fellow humans passing on through, welcome, friends, to my writing blog. ᕱ__ᕱ

Just remember to dot your j's and cross your t's!

~Clementine J Quincey🪷

[happyfandomvictim]

This was going to be a reply to a post but I opted to make my own to give my own opinion

I have been making zines since 1998. My father has been making zines since 1968, so So I wanted to put some thoughts down about a post going around saying that multi artist, nicely bound, full color fanzines are not zines.

It specifies zines need to be cheaply made, inexpensive affairs and that the fancier ones don't count as zines.

Ok so that is one opinion, and there are arguments that can he made, but I can't agree.

To me "zine" is a genre. Like Comic. Or Cake. So it's like saying "Wedding Cake" is not a cake because it's too fancy.

I have never before seen the argument that zines can't be zines at all.

Now I have seen (and agree) that PUNK zines can't be that. And neither can COPY zines. The whole *point* of a copy zines is they are made with a copier and cheaply done.

There is also a difference between a zine and an amature or indie comic.

But Copy and Punk Zines are not the only things that's ever been considered a zine, and extravagant over the top FanZine are not a 2000s invention. Y'all I have a Star Trek Zine from the 70s that is a *book* essentially. It is over 100 pages of fanworks and essays in *book* form. This was not done at home on a copier machine and cost a fair amount (for the time).

Fanzines is just another type of zine and they have been over the top since the 60s at least.

Look, these are zines, and they are (for the time) a match in looks for pro-magaines.

So yeah, I would argue that while it's fair to say a nicely bound, fully color, glossy paged illustration book is not a *copy zine* it absolutely can be a *zine*

In my opinion anyway.

[romione-trope-fest]

Hufflepuff Tea (Search)Party

Fic Title: Hufflepuff Tea (Search)Party

Author Name: CowahBull

Selected Trope: OotP Missing Moment

Brief Summary: Hufflepuffs are great advice-givers. They’re the best argument mediators. Find a Hufflepuff if you need to be told the brutally honest truth. A Hufflepuff will never purposely steer you wrong. Hufflepuffs are also excellent gossip-finders. It’s a well-known fact around Hogwarts that if you ever need to know what’s going on in the school, you find a Hufflepuff. This particular group of Hufflepuffs has their eyes set on the story around a certain pair of Gryffindor Prefects.

Word Count: 2859 Rating: G Trigger Warnings: None

_____________

Attempting to be as inconspicuous as possible, Hannah and Susan exited the Room of Requirements to make their way back to the Hufflepuff Common Room. Hannah ensured that her prefect badge was securely attached as they passed a small group of third-year Slytherins in the second-floor corridor. She watched them turn onto the staircase leading to the Great Hall.

“Did you see me hit Zacharias with that Stunner?” Susan was chatting happily as they passed the portrait of the bowl of fruit, which hid the entrance to the kitchen. “He didn’t even have a chance to Shield.” Susan gave a triumphant whoop, and Hannah hushed her while giggling herself.

“Ernie got me a couple times tonight,” Hannah admitted as they approached the entrance to the Common Room. “I’m going to need to practice my Shield Charm before the next meeting. Do you want to practice with me after we finish Snape’s Potions essay?”

“I have Flitwik’s essay after I’m finished with Potions,” said Susan, giving the second barrel to the right a hard knock, revealing the entrance to the nearly empty Hufflepuff Common Room. “We’ll have work on it later in the week.”

“Damn,” Hannah said, disappointed. “Yeah, we can do that.”

They found seats around the table in the corner and prepared to begin working on Snape’s Shrinking Solutions assignment; they were joined shortly after by Justin Finch-Fletchley and Ernie Macmillan.

“Guess who I just caught snogging behind that tapestry of the unicorn hunt,” whispered Ernie, relishing in the chance to share the latest gossip.

“Peeves and Sir Cadogen?” Susan teased, trying and failing to keep her focus on the schoolwork in front of her.

“Ginny Weasley and Michael Corner.” Ernie took his seat to Susan’s left and began pulling Snape’s essay from his bag. “Third couple I’ve caught back there this month.”

“People need to find another place to snog,” Hannah said, rolling her eyes. “I found Ancrum and Hurst back there yesterday.”

“Amatures,” scoffed Justin, “everyone knows about that spot. You’re guaranteed to be caught back there. Surprised Filch hasn’t permanently posted himself there overnight.”

Susan shared a mischievous look with Ernie before returning her attention to her parchment; she still needed to add another four inches on the importance of the full moon on ingredient harvesting.

Scratching quills and the rustle of papers filled the room, interrupted only by questions asked of neighbors and the occasional curses on Snape’s name.

“So, when did Weasley and Granger start dating?” mused Ernie as he flicked through the pages of his textbook.

"Wait!” Susan exclaimed, throwing down her quill, suddenly extremely invested in Ernie’s latest news. “I didn’t know they’re actually dating. Have you been withholding information from us?”

“Haven’t you seen them in the last few DA meetings?” continued Ernie. “They never stopped flirting that entire time.”

“I don’t think they even know they’re flirting,” Hannah argued.

“They were joking around a lot between their Stunning Spells,” Justin said disinterestedly. “I don’t think that means they’re dating, though.”

“I think Neville would have mentioned it if Ron and Hermione were together,” Hannah said, not looking up as she opened her copy of The Standard Book of Spells: Volume Five. “He shares a dorm with Ron, after all.”

“Maybe he doesn’t know,” argued Ernie.

“I really don’t think that’s enough evidence to prove that they’re together,” sighed Susan, returning her attention to the book in front of her.

“We can ask Longbottom tomorrow,” suggested Justin. “We have Herbology with Gryffindor in the afternoon. Hannah partners up with him whenever possible.” He gave Hannah a playful wink that she responded to with a rude gesture, her cheeks turning pink. Susan rolled her eyes and picked up her quill and a fresh piece of parchment. She had far too much homework tonight to debate the rumored love life between the two Gryffindor Prefects.

—

Greenhouse Six housed the tropical plants, making it the hottest classroom in the school. Susan and Hannah had already shed their outer robes and had pulled their hair into high buns on top of their heads when Professor Sprout charged the class to break into groups of three to take on the task of repotting Solanum melongena. Hannah was quick to claim Neville Longbottom as her and Susan’s partner.

Tucking into a station, Susan began prepping the new pot while Neville and Hannah set off on the task of calming the plant so it would allow them to uproot it without stinging them in the process. Susan eyed Weasley and Granger across the greenhouse as they began complimenting and stroking the plant sitting in front of them on the other end of the long work bench, with Potter to the left of them prepping a transfer pot.

"Wow, you have such beautiful leaves,” cooed Neville as he stroked the plumage. “Come on, dear, let’s have a look at those roots.” He gently lifted the leaves of their plant and extracted a small handful of dirt. The melongena twitched menacingly at his touch.

“Wonderful job,” Hannah said, reaching in to take a handful of dirt for herself. “So, Neville, we’ve been meaning to ask you about something.” She began to back away as a branch jerked at her.

“Now, now there’s no reason to be like that,” Neville scolded. “Hannah is just trying to help.” He didn’t take his eyes off the flower to which he was tending while addressing the girls, “What do you need to ask me?”

Susan leaned in close to him. “So what’s going on with them?” she gestured her head towards Weasley and Granger across the greenhouse, who were chatting happily with Potter.

Neville furrowed his brow. “Dean and Seamus?” he asked, barely lifting his eyes from the plant. “I’ve been wondering about them too…”

Susan stifled a laugh. “We all have.”

“Come on,” sighed Hannah, pulling a root from the pot. “You know exactly who we’re talking about.”

“Granger and Weasley,” Susan whispered. “When did they start dating?”

“I don’t think Hermione likes him like that,” Neville said, looking at them with mischief in his eyes. “Besides, isn’t Charlie a little old for her anyway?”

“Stop taking the piss, Longbottom,” added Susan, crossing her arms and glaring at Neville.

“Sorry, Susan.” Neville shrugged and returned his attention to the Solanum melongena, dodging to avoid being hit by one of its swinging vines. “I have no intelligence for you.”

–

That evening, Ernie was patrolling the west side of the castle, being sure to check behind every alcove and tapestry he passed. When he turned the corner to the third-floor staircase, he spotted a pair of Ravenclaws. Just who he was hoping to see.

“Michael, wait up,” he called, going up the stairs toward Michael Corner and Terry Boot.

The boys stopped as soon as Ernie reached them. “What’s up?” Michael asked.

“You’re still dating Ginny Weasley, right?”

Michael’s eyebrow cocked. “What’s it matter to you?“

“What’s the deal with her brother and Hermione Granger?”

“It’s not like we spend our time together talking about her brother’s love life.”

“So,” Ernie prodded further, “Ginny hasn’t said anything about their flirting during…” he looked over his shoulder. “–Er practice?”

“I’m not there to watch everyone else’s business,” Michael snapped. “I’m there to learn,” he added in a lowered voice.

“It did seem like Granger did hold his hand for a little longer than necessary when helping him up,” interjected Terry. “That’s hardly worth a fuss.”

“You could ask Lavender or Parvati,” shrugged Michael. “Do you think Hermione would have said anything to them?”

“I doubt it,” moaned Terry, appearing to be almost as interested in the rumors as Ernie. “Hermione doesn’t exactly seem like the ‘braiding each other’s hair and chatting’ type.”

Ernie considered their suggestions. “Hannah asked them before. No luck.” He turned to Michael. “His sister-”

“Yeah, I’ll ask Ginny what she knows.” He looked over Ernie’s shoulder suddenly and hitched his bag up his shoulder as Draco Malfoy and his usual posse came around the corner. “Better get out of here before he starts making trouble,” he added in a low tone.

They turned and walked away from each other before Malfoy could reach them. “No unauthorized meetings are allowed, Macmillan,” he sneered. “Ten points from Hufflepuff.”

Ernie scowled at the Slytherin gang and continued down the stairs. Making rude hand gestures when he was out of sight.

At the entrance to the Great Hall, Ernie found Hannah and Susan skipping toward him from the direction of the library, mischief in their eyes.

“Do you have any idea why Amanda Comstock would be in an empty classroom with Dexter Woodworth after curfew?”

“No way!”

“Yes way!”

–

Justin jogged past a group of third-year Ravenclaw students waiting outside the Arithmancy classroom.

“Sally-Anne, wait up!” Just who he wanted to see. As he caught up to her, he leaned to whisper, “What’s this I’m hearing about Comstock and Woodworth?” He matched pace with her as they made their way to double transfiguration.

“What is it that you’re hearing?”

“Something about the Prefects’ bathroom…”

”No, that was Cedric and Cho last year.”

“Oh right,” Justin waved for her to go on. “A classroom?”

“Yes, a classroom.” Sally-Anne nodded. “I heard that Miss Maisy Blackmon was out on patrol when she heard rustling in Binn’s classroom.”

“NO!” Justin’s shout startled a pair of first-year Gryffindors walking past. “Old Binnsey’s room? I wouldn’t consider that the most romantic place.”

“He’s got a thing for troll riots, I guess,” Sally-Anne shrugged. “Anyway,” she continued, ”Maisy goes into the room expecting to find Peeves-”

“Were they making that much of a ruckus?”

Sally-Anne only looked at him before continuing. “She goes in and sees the two of them all tangled up against the professor’s desk.”

“Here, I thought she liked girls.”

“She likes hot people,” Sally-Anne shrugged. “Hey, what’s the news on Ron and Hermione?”

“The rumor mill is all over the place.”

“You think Granger is still seeing Victor Krum?”

“She’d be crazy not to.” Justin jumped to tap his hands against a discolored brick above his head. “He is internationally famous, after all.”

“But we have no solid evidence?”

“I’m convinced they’re dating.”

“Granger and Weasley?” He had her full attention now. Justin had to pull her robe sleeve to help her avoid walking right through a passing ghost. “You have evidence to back up that claim?”

“Ron and Hermione have been seen in each other’s company more than Potter’s for the last few weeks.”

“They were doing an awful lot of laughing during dinner yesterday,” Sally-Anne added.

“The flirting really is getting out of hand.”

“That’s couple behavior, if I’ve ever seen it,” said Sally-Anne, shaking her head and smiling. “I wonder when it happened.“

“I’ll let you know when I find out,” sighed Justin as they reached McGonagall’s classroom door. “Troll riots, you say?”

–

Professor Binns droned on in front of them as Ernie spent his time scribbling on a scrap piece of parchment.

Don’t look now. What’s Weasley doing?

Hannah stretched in her seat, stealing a peek behind her. The Gryffindors were seated at the bench a few yards away. Hermione sat scribbling furiously in her notes, giving Binns her undivided attention. Harry was asleep with his face in his hands and his glasses propped on top of his head. Ron had his eyes closed and his head resting–

Oh Merlin! How long has he been resting on her shoulder?

A WHILE!

Does she even notice?

She was looking at him with total heart-eyes earlier.

Ernie drew a stick person with giant hearts for eyes and big curls coming from her head.

Hannah nudged her elbow into Susan’s side, jolting her out of the sleepy trance into which she was slipping. At her confused look, she passed the parchment in front of her and signaled for Justin’s attention as well. They both sat and read the note intently before they both found themselves with sudden cricks in their necks that simply needed to be stretched out immediately.

Susan gasped but covered it up with a cough. Justin stole the paper and his quill.

So they are dating!! We need to figure out when

A head on her shoulder does not equal dating. I do that to Hannah all the time.

Ernie craned his head to read the note sitting between Hannah and Susan. He shot them a look that meant one thing: ‘You’ve got to be kidding me’. Taking the paper, he scrawled.

You didn’t see the heart-eyes. If they’re not dating now, they will by the end of term. I guarantee it!!

He tossed the paper back to the group with a look of pride. The bell rang, rousing everyone in class from their stupor. Ernie watched as Ron jolted up from Hermione’s arm, both blushing and refusing to look at each other.

–

Prefect patrol duties were really cutting into their study schedule. Hannah complained to Ernie about their course load as they aimlessly roamed the halls for the last hour before curfew.

“She’s a sadist,” she cried. “Who assigns a four-foot assignment on Shield Charms without including class practice time?”

“Maybe Harry will be able to go over it with us again on Monday.” Ernie pulled his magic coin from his pocket to confirm the date. “I need to get Justin back for that Stunner he sent to my face.”

“I’m going to ask Hermione if I can look at her notes for Arithmancy. Mine just don’t feel complete enough. And you know how strict Professor Vector can be about thoroughness. I don’t know how I’m going to finish those problems for her by class tomorrow.”

Hannah talked non-stop for three floors while Ernie halfheartedly looked inside every classroom they passed.

“Shh,” he said to Hannah before calling into the long, unused classroom. “It’s almost curfew; you better get back to your Common Room.”

A mop of red hair appeared from behind the teacher’s desk, pulling up a very embarrassed-looking girl.

“Weasley, please,” Ernie started. “I’m much too tired to deal with this tonight.”

“Not a problem at all,, my friend,” laughed Fred (or was it George?) as he reached into his pocket and pulled out two small packages. “How about we part ways here and pretend it never happened?”

He put the bags of Weasley Wizard Wheezes products into Ernie and Hannah’s hands before pulling an apologizing Angelina Johnson down the hall toward the Gryffindor Common Room.

“No detours!” Hannah called after them, but they were already gone.

“That has got to stop happening,” said Hannah as she pocketed her bribe. “I’m going to be able to start my own joke shop with everything hiding in my trunk.”

“We could just report them.” Ernie shrugged. “But where’s the fun in that?”

Continuing their patrol, they peered into classrooms and behind statues periodically but found nothing but cobwebs and dust.

“We should head back to the Common Room,” Hannah yawned. “Double Potions with Slytherin first thing tomorrow.”

Ernie yawned his agreement and opened the door for the second-floor corridor. Before she could get through the door behind him, he froze. At the bottom of the stairs were Ron and Hermione, on their own patrol. Hermione was laughing animatedly at the impression Ron was making of Umbridge, their fingers interlocked.

Hannah shut the door, and the two leaped an arm’s length apart, realizing they were not alone. “Good evening, Ernie. Evening Hannah,“ Hermione said nervously, her cheeks pink. Ron nodded but refused to make eye contact with either of them.

"Hello, Hermione,” Hannah said, her voice a little too polite. “Good evening, Ron.”

“Evening,” Ron said as he and Hermione began ascending the stairs.

Ernie seemed to have found his legs again and continued to descend, passing them in the middle. Hannah followed close behind, her mind buzzing but her face remaining as neutral as possible.

As both parties met on the staircase, Ron cleared his throat and spoke in a low tone. “Er Harry hasn’t sent the notice yet, but -er- it moved to Thursday after dinner.”

“Right,” Ernie said, nodding. “Thanks.” He gave a weak thumbs up before he and Hannah passed through the space the Gryffindor students had created between each other.

The moment they were around the corner and out of earshot, Hannah turned to Ernie, her eyes alight. ‘Oh my god’ they mouthed to each other before hurrying toward the ground floor.

Ernie scratched his knuckle from pounding on the barrel blocking the Hufflepuff Common Room, but he gave it no notice as he and Hannah went running up to the table where Susan and Justin sat, absorbed in their homework.

“Oh my gods, you will never guess who we just saw!”

[pleasuresoftheharbor]

It might please you to know that for my French class I wrote a (very amature) essay in which I included a quote from Phil ochs on 60s music and whatnot :) thought I'd mention it since you got me into the whole thing honestly

aww YAY!! i loveee when people tell me that i got them into phil ochs/any of the music i like.. my mission has been achieved :-) thank you for sharing anon i’m sure your essay was just so beautiful 🦔❤️

[haribostarmixdreams]

A little essay story thing.

-The guy with the shitty blog name

I’ve found my meaning. It’s not to be the best, or the richest, (although that would be nice). It’s just looking for what makes me happy and holding on for dear life. And as a teenager myself, ‘finding happiness’ seems insurmountably difficult. But, I think I have an Idea of what it looks like. And I decided to not only write all of this down, but to make a Tumblr with a really shitty name and post it, just in case it helps someone.

Everything in front of me, and the growing gap behind me, that with habit’s grasp pulls me back every second I think about it. I’ve found that happiness is nowhere near what people think it is for you. For one it may be art, for another Sports, maybe even just being with the people we call family. For everyone it’s different, and yet everyone thinks that they’re the only ones with a good answer, the right answer. And with this mentality, no one is right. Everyone finds happiness in different places, it doesn’t matter how popular or niche it is.  Happiness is the most overwhelmingly abundant, and yet seemingly unattainable thing I can think of.

We can find happiness in a cool little rock on the ground, but sometimes find it difficult to feel anything in good, or bad times. And this is where this becomes EXTREMELY redundant (if it wasn’t already). We need to continue what we do. We need to keep moving. And if your current friends are more trouble than they’re worth, ditch 'em. Trust me, it’s easier to be alone than to be someone you’re not. As someone who drifts between hobbies, friends, and everything else I can say that change is unbelievably necessary, especially at a young age.

Whether it’s our peers, or our family with those trusty lines such as ‘you’ve changed’, or ‘I miss who you used to be’, we’re pressured into staying the same throughout life. And with that, there’s years of maturation destroyed by shame and an inability to grow due to a fear of losing loved ones. 

Sometimes happiness isn’t always the right word. ‘Passion’ is a favorite of mine. It more accurately describes what I consider happiness. My favorite definition of ‘Passion’ is “an intense desire or enthusiasm for something”. Another to go with this is “a strong and barely controllable emotion”. These definitions (From oxford languages) show that something you don’t have a desire for won’t make you happy. But don’t let that discourage you from trying new things. How else will you find what you love if you don’t look?

Try new things, push past that anxiety and worry, if it doesn’t work out, the most that’ll happen is you find something else. If you can find a desire once, you can find it again.

If you can find passion once, you can find it again.

In this essay I will explain how Garfield is a raging alcoholic, and how that leads Jon down an immensely dark path...

[theravenclawrevolutionary]

I've found an old essay I wrote about Robespierre four years ago when I was a Freshman. Needless to say, I was extremely uneducated and very, very cringe. I'm rewriting it for fun now and also to totally procrastinate both my novel and my scholarships so expect a post comparing and contrasting the two soon.

And to show how bad it truly is, I will admit to the worst sin a Frev historian can commit, no matter how much of an amature they are. Tiny little Freshman me cited Hilary Mantel as one of my sources for the essay.

[redxblueihateloveyou]

The sjws in the Sk8 fandom are the same people who probably were in the Free! fandom looking for something to bitch about.

I just wanted to go and like simply enjoy the tag, but I was a bit shocked with all the drama, that kinda threw me back in time. 

All the posts about how this is the pseudo gay epiphany of the last 10 years just made me laugh so hard, I’m guessing like most probably haven’t watched a lot of animes? I’m like all for loud and passionate shipping, but not by yelling “queerbating” and “how dare they” left in right, when in reality you don’t even know if one of them is even romantically interested in guys. 

Like to all amatures who just watched 3 animes and judge by that. We’re here have guys who are not interested in girls at all and who are sitting, I mean, literally sitting on each other’s dicks and it ain’t technically canon.

Also this is not the western culture, okay, like ppl go comparing it to ‘supernatural’ and stuff (?????)  like did you fall from a tree?

Also I’m like this is not any... and I mean, any close to YOI or Free! so far. I’m like are they both gay/into men? No/you don’t know. Are they canonically proven to have sexual attraction to each other? Also no/not yet.

Do they maybe canonically have dreams of such nature about each other? 

Do they maybe have couple rings and couple toys, one of them can’t even bathe without? 

Did one of them write an essay about the other one being the most beautiful thing in his school? No? Do one of them can’t fall alseep without the other one? No?

Then sit yo ass down, seriously. Cause it also gives me Klance war flashbacks. Like yeah, I also ship it, but like calm your fucking tits seriously, the fuck. So far in anime measurements it’s a bromance. Please do not become this kind of fandom.

I just don’t understand all the agressition in the tags. Like about Rin’s crush on Haru canonically knows his sister, his grandma, his best friend and his australian parents. That Haru was gay I think everyone knew even before the “I don’t have a boyfriend” thingy, but actually he was never physically attracted or romantically interested in anyone except for Rin, not in the novels, not in dramas, not anywhere. He never drooled on anyone else’s muscles and called anyone else’s legs amazing besides Rin, even tho this anime is full of those; you won’t find him flirt with anyone ever besides Rin; and in the books he doesn’t even get why his whole body got hot each time he sees him and why he wants to smile, so like about him being rinsexual is kinda not really a joke, more like a truth haha.

And to me Free! is a great romantic love story, that’s worth like 20 yaoi animes even without their on-screen kissing. And pls don’t diss the director who tries to bring out a good boys love relationship on screen with the censorship. Also SK8 didn’t even do anything out of ordinary with renga AT LEAST SO FAR.

But if you really don’t want to be like they say “lied to”, watch then only animes who are tagged “BL” and “yaoi”. You knew what you got yourself into, when you started watching this and what was the targeted audience.

Being successful in anime world is hard. Some animes and authors actually want a chance for more people to watch it. So they do not want this tag, otherwise it will automatically fall under the “I’m not watching it chategory” for some. Like open the MAL discussion/any streaming site and see how many ppl commented that they’ll stop watching if it’s gonna be BL. Even authors who write about official gay couples don’t want this tag sometimes.

Like seriously subtle BL exist in anime world, it’s not a crime. I also love how ppl who call Free! queerbating again, see the same copied scene from Free! and go it’s canon (nevermind that one of them so far isn’t into men, like logic... where?) So are they both canon or are they both queerbating? I do not get, pick the fuck one. Also stop throwing “queerbating” literally everywhere, where it doesn’t even apply.

Also I just wanted to like... enjoy the shipping tag.. and this is madness all over again :( 

P.S. I seriously have war flashbacks, I really scrolled through the tag yesterday and was like “no, no, god pls no” xD that “Free!” time and sjws... oh god, now we at least have proof to shove at them, back then it was like talking to some trees. I also always want to ask.. “do you ever enjoy stuff?” cause it seems like they never do.

[they-callme-ami]

Double Dutch. (aka the drunk! Elijah, Aurora, black!MC and Tobias fic)

Note: This story uses lots of AAVE (African American Vernacular English) and is mostly intended for a black audience--you can still read for funsies or whatever, but I better not hear some shit about it not being inclusive or using 'improper grammar'.

Tags: @what-do-you-mean-theyre-evil @tyrils-star @melaninnntae @indescribablybre @prism-goddess

It started innocently enough: you were helping Aurora wrap her hair, pinning it up and tying the scarf around it.  Elijah rolled into the living room in his pajamas. You three were the only ones at home since you three had worked later than Jackie, Bryce and Sienna and didn’t feel like going out that night.  But y’all weren’t opposed to chillin and talkin’ shit. 

It had been a long ass day. Ethan was getting on every damn nerve you had, either talking about his mom and their strained relationship or bugging you about your cases. The man just did not leave you alone, and normally it was cool--but today he needed to back the fuck up and stop talkin shit about Tobias. It was gettin old. Not only that, but you had your own intern to deal with--which is what you were going on about now.

“I’m telling you Elijah--I love Esme but that girl is too fuckin much!  She always stay talkin back to the other attendings, nearly started a fight with another intern, and even when she asks for my advice she don’t listen! Thinkin she know everything….fuckin stubborn headass..” You sigh while twisting your hair.  

“Uh-huh. Sounds like a familiar head-ass doctor I know.  You were on trial last year, stoopid!  I know your ass not talkin bout Esme.  She’s a breeze compared to Sothy… he barely knows how to do anythin--it's a damn miracle he graduated y’know.”

“And who’s fault is that Elijah--oh, excuse me, Oracle.”  Aurora smirked and laughed as Elijah could only sit there, ultimately taking the L.

As y’all were about to go in on each other, there was a knock at the door.

“Oh! Finally, must be the package I ordered.  I hope y’all are ready to see me strut the halls in my new---”  You open the door, only to see Tobias there in some sweats with some take out food and a paper bag.

“Not a package, but I’d love to see what you plan on struttin in.”  He teased and smirked.

“SHIT---Uh---why are you here so late---”  You had your bonnet on and a big ass t-shirt with some stains on it and some basketball shorts.  It was the first time he'd seen you so casual.

"Easy there firecracker, I didn't expect you to look--what are the kids saying--'beat and snatched' 24/7." He pecked your lips and walked in. 

“I invited him Y/N. Tobias, don't ever try and say that shit again and bring me my wings.”  Aurora smiled and laughed, seeming to not be phased by her boss seeing her in a scarf and acne cream dotting her face.  Was she just so tired from work she didn’t care?  Who were you kidding, this girl was a complete trip after a long day and was just sayin ‘fuck it’.

“Elijah, I got Tobias to grab you some of that shrimp scampi from that place downtown, and Y/N--he got you your favorite cause I told him and you his new boo thing.”  Aurora smirked with a wing in hand, and Elijah playfully gagged while Tobias handed out takeout containers and handed yours over. Yup, it was your favorite dish from your favorite place.  

“Now--I was invited for 3 reasons: A.) I have a car so I could do the food run and get y’all spoiled asses some good food.  B.)  I live 5 blocks away from the liquor store so--” He held up a bottle from the bag he had--Hennessy, cause of course he’d get the most stereotypical dr--”And C.) I had to pull a double shift so I’m tired and nice enough to share some college Ramsey stories with y’all.”

So there you were, sipping on your glass and laughing as Tobias was explaining how Ethan thought that ‘double dutch’ was some kind of dessert or innuendo for a threesome with exchange students.

“Wait wait---no no you gotta be kiddin me.  Fuckin 4.0 Med school GPA Ramsey--future head of Edenbrooks Diagnostics Team--thought double dutch was some kinda play on words?  I have to laugh…” Elinah snorts. You couldn’t help but burst into whoops and hollars, laughing and even Aurora couldn’t hide the smile on her face after she almost choked on her drink.

“Uh-huh.  Even after I told him what it was, he insisted that he had to see ‘it’.  I took him to my old neighborhood, and watched four 9 year old girls school him while he nearly fell flat on his face!”  Tobias laughed and smiled as he recalled the memory.  “For someone so fuckin smart--I swear to god he’s a dumbass.  Arrogant too, he never wanted to jump rope at the gym anymore.”

Something inside you flipped on.  You took a sip of Henny and smirked.  

“Well, I knew he had the fuckin long-ass neck of a giraffe, but clearly them legs ain’t doin him a favor either.”  Tobias nearly spat his drink and crumbled on the floor into laughter, Elijah slamming his hand on the table and laughing with him.  It was taking all of Aurora’s willpower to not laugh and act a fool.  “I mean, I know he ain’t got any rhythm either!  Mothafucka was clappin OFFBEAT during Donahue’s karaoke night, but I’m supposed to trust him to count how many heartbeats a patient has.”  You joke again, and Elijah was holding his sides.

“Fuck---he---Y/N shut the hell up!”  Tobias laughed and playfully pushed your shoulder.  “Pass me the damn bottle….y’all lemme tell you somethin worse than that--his cooking.  The man can’t stay on beat let alone beat a fuckin egg.  Y/N--tell ‘em bout the chicken.”

“He---He invited me home after work or somethin--and he wanted me to help him with this recipe he saw for chicken.  Y’all, it was the BLANDEST ass recipe I ever saw in my life.  I was terrified to eat whatever the fuck he was makin, it was so bad his dad even helped out and said how it needed some proper seasoning.  I had never seen an old man so disappointed in such an empty spice cabinet.  I had to leave.”  You snicker as you retell the story.  “Even worse?  He tried to bring me some leftovers afterwards and by god was that mothafucka dry as HELL---y’know what, lemme calm down cause I am not about to yell over some bland ass chicken.”  You chugged down the Henny and grabbed the bottle to pour another glass.

“Y’know….for someone who seemed real eager to stuff a chicken, he cannot seem to tell he got a stick stuffed far up his ass.  No wonder he walks around like an emotionally constipated man-baby.”  Aurora said with a straight face as she chugged her own drink.  You turned away, laughing and doing a spit take as Tobias slammed his fist on the table, snorting while Elijah simply was in awe at Aurora’s words. 

 “My first week there, I was assigned to Y/N and cause my auntie was makin me give her full on oral essays of every case I had, I missed out on one of ours and nearly let a patient die.  Now---his ass knows this.  He knows exactly who the fuck I am and who the fuck my aunt is.  And what did he do?  Chewed me out without a second thought.  I was *this* close to curb stomping his ass I swear--He even called Y/N amature after saving someone’s life because it ‘was sloppy’ and ‘wasn’t professional enough’.  And another thing--” 

You watched Aurora stand up, Henny in her hand, and just goin off on Ethan.  She was tearing into him, from him being able to get off the hook for punching Declan, verbally avicerating innocent interns, being all high and mighty--man, she hated his ass.  Elijah was just eating his scampi, vibing and Tobias was smiling like a proud parent, eating his burger. 

 “He gon have the nerve--the audacity--the CAUCASITY to assume that I’M trippin because I told him about Landry being all rude and dismissive of one of his black-female patients.  He nearly put ME on probation for helping deliver the baby properly when Landry prescribed her the wrong treatment for something cause neither of them will ever fuckin LISTEN and--”  You could not have been any more impressed.  You were just soaking it all in.  She finally sat back down and ate some of her wings.

Tobias sighs and grins.  “Damn. Elijah, you been real quiet...you wanna add your two cents?” he asks while Tobias took a big gulp and sat the glass back down.  He took a deep breath.

“No, no….I just want his long-neck-headass, mommy-didn’t-love-me-so-I’m-a-lil-bitch-headass, grudge-holding-grown-ass-man-headass, lemme-insult-my-interns-headass, pompous, privileged, irritating, high and oh so fuckin’ mighty ass to humble himself and learn to get his head and the stick he got outta his ass.  It ain’t cute to just bash everyone around you cause yo ass is feelin like Hamilton, ‘smartest in the room’ mofo.”  He said, all very calmly while finishing his drink.   You, Tobias and Aurora just exchanged a look….and broke out into a fit of laughs and smiling. 

A few drinks later and a hella amount of roasts later, you were cuddled up with Tobias while Elijah laid out on Aurora's lap. 

"Damn…..we really been up for hours now. Jackie and Sienna still out…" Elijah piped up and checked his phone. "They're at Bryce's place, having a 'girls night' with Keiki and sleepin over…..ooooo, Tobias should sleep over too!" He showed y'all a photo Sienna sent. 

"Uh-huh, you should! We can watch movies and... oh Elijah your hair is sooooo soft." Aurora smiled and was playfully twisting it. Seems like the drinks were finally hitting.  Tobias could tell too.

He managed to help Elijah back in his wheelchair and followed his directions to his room.  He came back out to you helping Aurora to her room.

"Byyyye boss. See ya at work! If you do stay over, y'all better be quiet while he rearrange them guts!" She poked you laughing as you rolled your eyes and got her in bed.  You walked back out, feeling tipsy yourself and plopped on the couch...with Tobias.

"Y'know….your friends definitely know how to go all in on a roast session. I found out shit about Ethan I didn't know till now."

"Mhmmmm….Henny is….is a miracle worker…" you slurred and laughed, laying up on him. "And yoooooouuu….are a fine-ass pillow." 

Before you succumbed to the exhaustion and hennessy, you felt Tobias's lips peck your cheek gently and his arms hold you tight against him.

The next day at work, you were taking your break and went outside to the courtyard...much to your surprise you found a few children--presumabley patients-- playing double dutch with some jump rope.

"Apples, peaches, pears, and plums

Tell me when your birthday comes! 1! 2! 3! 4!"

They were counting along as you hopped inside the rope, showing off a bit and laughing. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Ethan walking towards the building.

"Hey, Ethan, wanna join? It may not be a dessert or two dutch girls--but it'll be fun!" You called out and teased while working the ropes. You could see his face turn red from where you were, and him muttering softly about Tobias. You couldn't help but laugh as you kept skipping and hopping away.

[jewlwpet]

J. A. Seazer wrote in his intro (as yet untranslated, though I have a draft) to the Rose Egg Sophia CD that one of his biggest influences on the album (in addition to Umberto Eco’s great novel In the Name of the Rose and its film adaptation) was the alchemical text Atalanta Fugiens. Here is an excerpt from Jayne Elizabeth Archer’s essay  "’Rudenesse it selfe she doth refine': Elizabeth I as Lady Alchymia,” published in Goddesses and Queens : The Iconography of Elizabeth I, discussing how the Wisdom principle (Sophia in Greek) is portrayed in this and other alchemy treatises.

Hester describes his decision to dedicate himself to alchemical studies in terms of a meeting, ‘in my minde’, with two muses, the Ladies of ‘Mettalles and Mineralles’ and ‘Hearbes and Spices’:

“the one gallant and gorgeous garnished with gold and silver, bedect with jewels sole Ladie and Governesse of all the rich Mines and Mineralles that are in the bowels of the earth: the other sweet and odoriferous, adorned with flowers and hearbes, beautified with delicate spices, sole Lady and Regent of all the pleasant things that grow upon the face of the earth. These I vowed to serve and to honour, even to the losse of life and limbe ... divers and sundry their affaires have they imployed mee in, in the which I have faithfully, painfully, and chargeably applied myselfe, and attained by their instructions (to my own destruction almost) manie their hidden secretes as well in Mettalles and Mineralles, as in Hearbes and Spices.”

Using metaphors of romantic seduction and servitude, the young Hester is enticed by a Janus-faced Alchymia, who promises ‘hidden secretes’ behind the veils of matter. It is a dangerous relationship, in which the adept must remain faithful to a muse who might disdain or even destroy him at any moment. But it is ultimately a rewarding and empowering one, resulting in the acquisition of knowledge and wealth. For his presentation of the twin aspects of Lady Alchymia, Hester draws upon the Wisdom of Proverbs:

“Happy is the man that findeth wisedom, and the man that getteth understanding. For the merchandise of it is better than the merchandise of silver, and the gain thereof than fine gold. She is more precious than rubies: and all the things thou canst desire are not to be compared unto her. Length of days is in her right hand; and in her left hand are riches and honour ... She is a tree of life to them that lay hold upon her: and happy is every one that retaineth her."

The alchemical reinterpretation of the Wisdom tradition is perhaps best exemplified in Michael Maier’s emblem book, Atalanta Fugiens (Oppenheim, 1617). The picture from emblem 26 shows Sapientia standing by the arbor scientiae (the ‘tree of knowledge’, a traditional symbol for the alchemical opus) bearing sol and luna as its fruits (Figure 2). Sapientia holds two inscribed banderoles which proclaim ‘longitudo dierum et sanitas’ (length of days and health) and ‘gloria ac divitiae’ (honour and infinite riches). In his discourse on this emblem, Maier explains that Sapientia personifies the whole ‘cogitionem Chymiae, cum praxi’, and in the epigram which accompanies this emblem he identifies Sapientia both with the means by which the adept may achieve wisdom (his inspiration, or muse) and with the wisdom itself (the Philosopher’s Stone, or ‘fruit of the Tree of Life’):

“In human affairs there is no greater wisdom, Than that from which arise wealth and health. In her right hand she keeps a long life in good health, But her left hand conceals overwhelming treasures. When somebody approaches her with head and hand, She will be for him of the same value as the fruit of the Tree of Life.”

True wisdom, Maier asserts, comes from a union of theory (‘head’) and practice, or experience (‘hand’): ‘Experience may be considered as the father, the ratio as the mother, and wisdom as their child.’

For English alchemists, inspired by Queen Elizabeth and the ‘romance’ of her court, Lady Alchymia is a queenly figure, who tantalises her male courtiers with promises of love and favour. Hugh Plat (bap. 1552, d. 1608), who sought patronage from Elizabeth for many years, is unusual in referring to Lady Alchymia by name: ‘Amultis amatur Alchimia & tamen virgo est.’ His words echo those of the German astrologer Johannes Trithemius (1462–1516), who described ‘Alchemy’ as ‘a chaste prostitute, who has many lovers but disappoints all and grants her favors to none. She transforms the haughty into fools, the rich into paupers, the philosophers into dolts, and the deceived into loquacious deceivers.’ The physician and distiller John French (c.1616–1657) identified this capricious, evasive feminine principle with both Nature and her ‘daughter’, ‘the Mercury of Philosophers’: ‘Court the Mother, and you winne the Daughter; prevail with Nature, and the fair Diana of the Philosophers is at your service.’  ‘This Art of Alchymie’, French concludes, is the ‘Queen of Arts’ (A3r). Using similar language, Elias Ashmole (1617–1692) identified ‘Dame Nature’ as the female beloved who is ‘woo’d and courted’ by ‘our Hermetique Philosophers’. The alchemist, gendered male, is a courtier, and his queen or patron is Nature, through whom he seeks the Philosopher’s Stone, or ‘Diana’ – one of Elizabeth’s favourite and most equivocal personae.

[stretchjournalemerson]

The Other Side of Perspectivism

By Graham Wheeler-Nelson

“Mr. Hannaford, is the camera a reflection of reality? Or is reality a reflection of the camera eye? Or is the camera merely a phallus?” 

“Mr. Hannaford, is the camera a reflection of reality? Or is reality a reflection of the camera eye? Or is the camera merely a phallus?” These are the words of a spirited interviewer as he screams at a fictional movie director Jack Hannaford in Orson Welles’ posthumous opus The Other Side of the Wind. It was a film written and photographed in the early 1970s- a low budget passion project from acclaimed filmmaker Orson Welles, the director of Citizen Kane. According to Alex Ross from The New Yorker, the partially unedited film stock sat untouched in a French vault for decades due to a muddy legal battle only to be resurrected and released by the corporate giant Netflix earlier this month. The film focuses on the aforementioned Hemingway-esque movie director Jack Hannaford during the last day of his life through the lens of a myriad of journalists and rabid fans alike as they follow him through a fundraising gala- pioneering the recently cliched “found footage” genre.

The Other Side of the Wind takes a fresh perspective to the tired style of filmmaking known as found footage. Most contemporary found footage films consist of one shakily out of focus recorder, amature talent, and an abundance of jump scares. This is where Welles differs - his film takes the perspective of dozens of strangers, and builds a mosaic of the mysterious Hannaford. Instead of the camera being an invisible window through which the audience watches the narrative unfold, Welles opts to draw attention to the very way the audience is viewing the film - each journalist in the film uses different film stocks and camera equipment, resulting in scenes that frequently cut between 8mm, Super 16mm, 35mm, black and white versus color film, and different aspect ratios. Hannaford is a reclusive figure. The audience only knows as much as the journalists know as they view the film strictly through the eyes of said journalists. Because of this, the audience often gets conflicting information regarding exactly who Hannaford was behind the persona- never getting a “true” definition of Hannaford as a man.

This collection of viewpoints is known as perspectivism and it’s something American literary scholar Jane Tomkins was keenly interested in. In Tompkins’ seminal essay "Indians": Textualism, Morality, and the Problem of History, she explores Native American interactions with Puritan colonists via similar means, attempting to paint a mosaic through a multitude of conflicting firsthand accounts. This leads to her poststructuralist thesis that “[t]he notion that all facts are only facts within a perspective has the effect of emptying statements of their content” (117). Tompkins goes on to describe what exactly this “emptying” really means, saying that because history is made up of nothing more than people’s biased interpretations and perspectives of events, it’s impossible to tell what truly occured. Tompkins also points out that this “emptying” does not strip all meaning out of everything, but just means that “you can't argue that someone else's facts are not facts because they are only the product of a perspective” (188).

It’s this concentration on perspectivism that The Other Side of the Wind is interested in. The mythical Hannaford acts as a stand-in for Tomkins’ Native American conflict. Nobody, not the audience nor Hannaford’s closest acquaintances, truly know him. The only information the audience receives about Hannaford is through second or third hand accounts that often contradict each other. Tomkins’ description of her understanding and synthesis of various texts even resembles the viewer’s experience of witnessing The Other Side of the Wind, saying she

was “believing this version up to a point, that version not at all, another almost entirely, according to what seems reasonable and plausible” (118). This is the poststructuralist mindset with which Welles approaches The Other Side of the Wind.

The signifier and the signified. The meaningless noise and the mythical concept. It wouldn’t be too controversial to say that Hannaford is the signified- the elusive notion of a larger-than-life Hemingway-esque director. If Hannaford the signified, then The Other Side of The Wind would be the sign. What connects the signified and the signifier and what provides meaning? It’s the whole of the connection between signifier and signified. If Hannaford is the signified and the film itself is the sign, then what would the signifier be? Would it be the real life director Welles? Or would it be the concept of character itself? The English Oxford Dictionary defines a signifier as “a sign's physical form,” so wouldn’t that make the real life film The Other Side of The Wind the signifier and the sign? Or would the signified be the emotions elicited from the film, the signifier be the means by which the film was made - the screenwriting, cinematography, performances, etc., and the film itself be the sign? That seems like the most reasonable conclusion.

This focus on perspectivism makes The Other Side of the Wind and Tomkins’ essay as emotionally effective and intellectually interesting as possible because that’s exactly how people interact. Nobody will ever know who a person “truly” is. The only way we know someone is through how they choose to express themselves, which oftentimes is not exactly who they really are. While the stakes are not as dire in The Other Side of the Wind compared to Tomkins’ examination of Colonial relations with Native Americans, their interest in perspectivism elevates and connects them beyond the subject matter.

The tools Welles uses in The Other Side of the Wind to highlight the subjectivity and perspectivity of the film- the continuously changing film stocks, breaking of the fourth wall, and the reflexivity of the main character being a clear author insert- also work to make the audience utterly aware that they are watching a film. This analytical and unconventional move is reminiscent of Bertolt Brecht, a German playwright and theatre director in the first half of the 20th century. Brecht spearheaded a style of theatre that does not aim to emotionally effect, doesn’t offer up some inane fantasy land, and does not aim to entrance the viewer in vapid escapism. Rather, Brecht devised a theatre space that purposefully isolates the viewer, a play that emotionally distances itself from the audience in order for said audience to retain their critical detachment. This is the “alienation effect.” According to TheatreDatabase.com, Brecht was skeptical of Aristotle's poetics and its attempts to “lure” the audience into an escapist stupor. Brecht didn’t want his audience to be emotionally engaged in his work- he demanded that they think.

This critical speculation makes itself evident in The Other Side of the Wind via adopting and adapting the “found footage” style to fit Welles’ dramatic and reflexive story. Most contemporary found footage films consist of one shakily out of focus recorder, amature talent, and an abundance of jump scares. This is where Welles differs- his film takes the perspective of dozens of strangers and builds a mosaic of the mysterious Hannaford. Instead of the camera being an invisible window through which the audience watches the narrative unfold, Welles opts to draw attention to the very way the audience is viewing the film. The audience can never truly be invested in the story within the story because it’s purposefully vapid and takes up a significantly small amount of screentime, but at the same time the audience fails to be emotionally involved with Hannaford’s arc because we know so little about him- and yet it’s a success. It’s strange to describe an audience failing to be emotionally involved in a text as an achievement, but it certainly is an achievement in the eyes of the alienation effect. This separation between audience and subject is critical to understanding how Welles transforms the cinema into a space for conflict. The contact zone was an idea first posited by Mary Louise Pratt, a professor at New York  University. In a speech given to the Modern Language Association, Pratt describes the idea of a contact zone as “social spaces where cultures meet, clash, and grapple with each other” (34). The Other Side of the Wind creates a space where audience and film are separated and made into a contact zone. In most cases, the audience is working with the film in order to achieve an emotional and empathetic response, but The Other Side of the Wind forces the viewer to almost fight against it, to decode it, to attempt to understand what exactly it’s getting at though it never expects an emotional culmination. This isn’t necessarily a clash between cultures as Pratt describes it, but The Other Side of the Wind certainly creates a space where an audience has the unique opportunity to, “meet, clash, and grapple” with a work of art. The act of clashing with the text and setting up a space via Brecht-like techniques for an audience to confront a text in order to find meaning is something that not many films achieve. This is a rare experience that needs to be treasured.

[angstics]

i love stripping high level studies of their nuance for my amature essays. i barely know what an integral is

[cowboylikedean]

i, tbh, cannot express the rage i feel when i open a youtuve video and the person has produced it as an artsy amature documentary. it’s why i hate youtube video essays (and also why i hate most educational podcasts). NO you have MISSED THE ASSIGNMENT the campiness of a youtuve video is the WHOLE POINT if you erase that with aesthetic piano music, artistically written scripts, and artistically shot b-roll footage, you’ve lost the heart of the medium!!!

understand the medium you’re in and stick to it!!

[ontheprocessofrecovery]

The Binary

It took me a while for me to think about what to write. Different forms of social media have been my platform to express thoughts and inspirations that I have since I began writing. I thought things would get easier back then. I wanted to be a writer; acknowledged and respected as one. I wanted to be part and belong in a society that openly discussed views, issues, ideologies and other things like simply asking how the weather will be as an opening statement(haha). But as I look at today's bigger picture, these discussions can be seen online rather than be heard from people, face to face. I can't help but wonder, does the connection between people die nowadays? That people are stronger to argue behind their PCs rather than learn from talks over coffee or in a debate? These observations are heartbreaking. Why? It is in face to face conversations where we strengthen and build relationships (in general and not in a romantic manner), where we find realizations and realities we thought we knew. Yet we find ourselves typing on keyboards, facing monitors and hearing the slight sound of CPUs or laptops we use, to discover, learn and detach. Like patterns that are so calculated, it loses its sincerity.

[0977488]

Theory essay #1st draft

Situationist ideology

What is situationism? Situationism is the theory that human behaviour is determined by surrounding circumstances rather than by personal qualities.

 a revolutionary political theory which regards modern industrial society as being inevitably oppressive and exploitative.

 The spectacle

What is the spectacle? When Guy Debord talks about the spectacle, what does he mean by that? Mass media. "its most glaring superficial manifestation.".That is the spectacle. That is what I have read. But is that all? The book examines the “Spectacle,” Debord’s term for the everyday manifestation of capitalist-driven phenomena; advertising, television, film, and celebrity (and now social media). Debord describes the spectacle as capitalism’s instrument for distracting and pacifying the masses. 

We also know there is no escaping the spectacle. Even if you swap your smartphone for an old nokia, you will still be faced with the spectacle. The spectacle can be found on every screen that you look at. It is the advertisements plastered on the subway and the pop-up ads that appear in your browser.

Situationists

What do situationists want and do? What defines them?

Dérives and Psychogeography

Psychogeography, writing over and editing existing maps and making their own maps, based on Dérives. Wandering around without a destination, (lummelen) in the hope of discovering new unknown spaces, but also just for the sake of wandering itself.

They are an anti-capitalist movement, a group of people that wants to play. Situationists want to live like homo ludens: The playing human.

Detournement

Detournement means retouring, hijacking in French. What do situationist mean by play?

4 types of play

Johan Huizinga wrote a book in which he explains the 4 types of play: Agon, Alea, Mimicry and Ilynx.

Funnily enough Huizinga doesn’t mention music as a form of play in his book. Which is strange in my opinion. Other play theorists do. To summarize; most play theorists touch upon play in the forms of art, sports, games, philosophy and poetry, and roleplay.

Commodity fetishism

The feeling that purchased goods will ultimately make us happy and will give us magic powers (figure of speech) or somehow create our personality. We are certain these goods will make us more attractive to potential partners, make us appear “cooler” “better” “richer”.

How can I become “homo ludens” (a playing human)?

I think the closest we have all come to homo ludens or some form of it is the period in which everyone and their mom was playing pokemon go. I know this subject has been touched upon but I think it is still very relevant to discuss. If you think about play, the first thing that comes to mind is children and our childhood. But play doesn’t need to be “childish” perse. The mayority of people see LARP as very childish. But people who larp probably get as close to homo ludens as the situationists first imagined it.

Game culture

Gamers and game culture also finds itself in that realm. Although with the rise of gaming youtubers and events like E-sports. These gamers do gain a profit from their gaming. Technically these individuals don’t count, as play theorists say play should be about play alone and not about profit or gain. There is a lot of money in gaming competitions, more so than gaming youtube. But gaming youtubers do gain popularity and internet fame from their youtube channels.

Pokemon go

But what about that time when kijkduin was the pokemon-go capital of the world? I have been there when the pokemon go craze was new and fresh. In my hometown I saw my neighbours walking one specific street at night to visit every poke-stop. This particular street is very interesting because it has a statue every few meters. Every statue is a poke stop. The people that live in this street could probably access a poke-stop from their bedrooms.

You can say pokemon go stimulates people to go on derives, but that is not entirely true. Instead of wandering around and looking at the scenery and discovering new spaces, these people only stare at their device (if they have the augmented reality option turned off). The people in my hometown were just going back and forth walking the street they themselves live at, to return to their bedrooms after a few rounds.

Cosplay, drag and LARP

Maybe larping or cosplay is the most true way of living like homo ludens. Although popular cosplayers do gain popularity and social gain online, amature cosplayers don’t gain much. While cosplay is not the most popular or socially acceptable form of play among society it is considered cool in certain communities.

My brain also shifts to Drag. Can drag be the answer to my question? Drag lately is popularized by tv shows like Rupauls drag race (multiple emmy award winning reality tv show). And more and more drag performers are starting to gain a profit from their art.

The best solution might be larp. While cosplay and drag are becoming more and more trendy and accepted, LArp is still seen as childish among most people.

Not many people gain anything from LARP (to my knowledge) and it is not as much of a spectacular spectacle as being a drag performer. Which is (in some forms of drag) heavily dependent on pop culture and social media. This logic could also be applied to cosplay.

I decided to look up a specific definition of LARP:

“A live action role-playing game (LARP) is a form of role-playing game where the participants physically portray their characters. The players pursue goals within a fictional setting represented by the real world while interacting with each other in character.”

I based this first draft on the theory around the book homo ludens, by Johan Huizinga. While not knowing a lot about this book or Johan Huizinga. 

The aesthetic reference I used for this essay draft is the pokémon go app.

In this draft I also include topics as: gaming culture, cosplay, drag and LARP.