#and for power they created the conditions for their own demise and the destruction of the world

[aspoonofsugar]

Hi! Hope you're having an alright leftover months of this year. Do you still do RWBY analysis? If you still do, can you do an analysis that focuses mainly on Ozpin, both the headmaster and Oz incarnation? All the posts I find about him merely mentions his relations to the subject instead of the man itself, so I am intrigued by what you would say about him, his relationships with himself and others, his thematic importance to the show included. I'd also take any speculations you may have about him, his past, his possible Semblance, and his future at RWBY's finale.

But even if you don't, I'd like you to know that I am a huge fan of your works. Drink lots of water, sleep and eat regularly, and move around a lot!

Hi!

Thank you for the nice words and sorry for the long wait!

So, I may not be the best person to ask about Ozpin because I have yet to fully analyze/develop proper thoughts on him. However, I will do my best!

Before starting, 2 things.

I have talked a little bit about him here and here.

I am not sure if you differentiate between Ozma and Ozpin... personally I don't and I don't think we are meant to, so this post is about the character as a whole

When it comes to Ozpin, I think the best way to analyze him so far is to go through his 2 key relationships: Salem and Oscar.

OZMA AND SALEM: LOSING HUMANITY

Ozma's story starts with his death:

Jinn: Ozma, the infallible hero of legend, fell ill. And where all the beasts and blades of the world had fallen short, a single sickness prevailed.

Ozma's death is important on multiple levels.

Plot-wise it kicks off Salem's conflict with the Gods

Thematic-wise it is there to convey a key theme: death is part of humanity.

Ozma dies out of illness. His demise isn't a violent one. It isn't a Grimm or another human killing him. Hell, it is not even the Gods deciding his time has come. He dies of illness because no matter he is such a great hero. Deep down, he is human like everyone else.

Humans are by definition a mix of Creation (The God of Light) and Destruction (The God of Darkness). This makes them creations with a limited lifespan. Their beauty is who they can become with this time at their disposal.

This is what Ozma's death means, but Salem refuses the idea and sets up the conditions for both Ozma and hers immortality, which isn't framed as something positive, but as a curse:

God of Light: You must learn the importance of life and death. Only then may you rest.

So, Ozma's resurrection starts his personal arc, which is built on a pretty neat contradiction. On the one hand he slowly loses his humanity (1). On the other hand this happens precisely because of his very human flaws (2).

1- When I say Ozma loses his humanity, I don't mean he becomes a monster, but that with time he starts feeling detached from life and necessarily different from others. It isn't something he does consciously or so openly as Salem. After all, differently from her own immortality, Ozma's gives him the chance to truly live with others:

God of Light: Until your task is complete, you will reincarnate, but in a manner that ensures you are never alone.

And he learns to live with humans rather than above them:

Jinn: And as the centuries went on, Ozma began to learn the importance of living with the souls with which he had been paired.

Still, the tendency to think of himself as different and somehow above others is there and it starts with Salem:

Salem: We could become the gods of this world. Our powers surpass all others. Our souls transcend death. We can mold these lands into whatever we want, what you want, create the paradise that the old Gods could not.

Salem: Don't you see? None of that matters anymore. Why spend our lives trying to redeem these Humans when we can replace them with what they could never be?

These 2 ideas might seem opposite, but they have the same root. It is about making Ozma and Salem stand abover everyone else. Be them as Gods or as a New Human Race. The difference is only in form because the result is the same: Ozma and Salem are more powerful than others and can twist and mold the world as they want.

When Ozma breaks up with Salem he refuses this belief, but unconsciously it keeps rearing its ugly head here and there throughout the centuries. This is shown in 2 ways:

a) From a symbolical point of view Ozma and Salem's battle mirrors the Gods' conflict. Ozma steps into the role of Light, while Salem into the role of Darkness. Light and Darkness are meant to represent complementary, so they are built on dychotomies...

Light is day, life, creation, order and rationality. Still, it can degenerate in control.

Dark is night, death, destruction and emotions. Still, it can degenerate in chaos.

Similarly, Ozpin thinks about the bigger picture and puts the world's destiny above his personal wishes. He even accepts Light's mission and becomes the de facto Champion of Light. Salem is instead driven by her emotions. Her love dies? She is gonna fight Gods to have him back. He leaves her, though? Then, she will go in his way and hurt him in any way possible. She is the Champion of Darkness not because Darkness has invested her, but simply because she is close to his ideals and mentality. Her affinity is conveyed also by Salem controlling and creating Grimms, like the Brother used to.

So, the Gods' conflict is reproduced in Ozma and Salem's dynamic. An example of this mirroring is given by the couple's 4 daughters. Light and Darkness create Humanity and give them 4 Gifts. Ozma and Salem build a Family and give birth to 4 Daughters. The Gods end up destroying their own creations, just like Ozma and Salem's fight kills their children. Still, Light recreates the Gifts through 4 relics and Ozma gives birth to 4 Daughters again through the Maidens.

In short, both the Gods and Ozma/Salem are beings more powerful than humans that have a conflict going on. This conflict is both thematic and personal and it ends up becoming a problem for the whole world.

b) From a practical point of view, Ozpin has built a system that runs on secrecy and is organized around his person. He may not want to, but ends up being quite manipulative of his comrades.

For example, he asks Pyrrha to be a Maiden without even telling her about Salem (like, you wanna know about that if you are to become one of her main targets). Similarly, he hides Salem's immortality with the excuse it would demoralize people. In this way, he decides what is better for others in their stead and takes away the chance to make informed choices.

2- Ozpin's flaw is his inability to trust. This tendency of his comes out in the Lost Fable, as well:

Jinn: As Salem and Ozma recounted the events which had brought them back together, each withheld parts of their story. Salem, fearing Ozma would reject her, blamed the end of the world on the Gods. Ozma, still unsure of where the truth lay, kept his task and the Relics a secret.

Ozma doesn't trust Salem, which is one of the many factors that contribute to the end of their relationship. Ozma knows trust and faith are good in theory, but because of his many struggles he forgets "trusting is a risk" and "risks are necessary". He sees trust as only a dangerous bet, rather than as an opportunity. So, he stops trusting and adopts some controlling and manipulative tendences.

Both his belief to be above others and his lack of faith come out in volume 6, when the protagonists strongly confront him.

In Ruby's words:

Ruby: So all those times you talked about having faith in humanity, that was just for everyone else?

Humans have to believe in him, but he doesn't have to believe in humans. This is what a God asks of others. Not a person.

OZPIN AND OSCAR: FINDING FAITH

Ozpin's confrontation with the rest of the group is a huge setback for him, which ends with his "break" from the mission. This choice is a pivotal moment, which kickstarts his development and changes his balance with Oscar.

Ozpin and Oscar's stories and allusions are intertwined. Ozpin alludes to the Wizard of Oz, while Oscar alludes to Ozma. Both are characters from the Oz series, but their stories are different.

The Wizard of Oz is a normal human, who plays the part of a Wizard

Princess Ozma is the rightful ruler of Oz and a magical being

Basically (and oversimplifying) the Wizard is a fraud, while Ozma is the real deal. Still, Ozpin and Oscar's foiling is slightly more complex. As a matter of fact Ozpin's real name is Ozma, while Oscar's name is that of the Wizard of Oz. Basically, Ozpin and Oscar have mismatched names.

What does it mean? It means that Ozpin is magical like Ozma, but not as infallible as others think. In a sense, he is "below expectations", like the Wizard. Oscar is instead a normal boy like the Wizard, but he is growing to become able to succeed where Ozpin fails. So, by the end he would be the "rightful ruler" of himself.

In short, Ozpin presents himself as Oscar's mentor, but in the end he is the one who learns from Oscar. In this way, he is able to grow and to work through his flaw:

Ozpin: But, Oscar-- Oscar: You want him to trust us? Then trust me.

Oscar: He trusted my judgment and it saved us. I want to reciprocate that trust. There's a lot to sort out, but… Oz really wants to help.

He starts to slowly trust again. This means he is learning to truly live with others again and to depend on them again. This is the essence of being humans, after all.

So, Ozpin and Oscar's shared story is one where they discover who they are:

Man: Thank you. Please, tell me your name. Who are you? Suddenly, Ozma's newest reincarnate has trouble speaking. Oscar: He didn't know…

Specifically, Ozpin must rediscover his personhood, while Oscar must reach self-actualization.

SEMBLANCE

All of this brings me to your question about his semblance. Basically, I don't think Ozpin's semblance is important at all, while I think Oscar's is.

After all, it has been mentioned twice now:

Oscar: Semblance? Nora: You know! Like your very own superpower! Everybody's got one. It's just a matter of finding it and mastering it.

Oscar: You guys are evolving and I still don't have my Semblance. Ruby: Well, I bet we'll all be jealous when you do.

Which means it is going to be an important moment. This makes sense because semblances are symbolic of self-actualization. So, Oscar should activate a semblance that defines him as his own person, different from even Ozpin.

As for Ozpin himself, he has shown us no semblance and I wonder if he even has one. As far as we have seen, both Ozma and Salem have kept their magical abilities. I wonder, then, if they are unable to use semblances/do not need them. Wouldn't it be interesting if none of Ozpin's reincarnations has ever activated a semblance because Ozpin's presence made it both unnecessary and impossible? After all, how can you become yout own person if an intruder enters your mind and fuses with your soul?

If so, Oscar activating his would be an exception, which marks something new happening in Ozpin's story.

FROM SALEM TO OSCAR

Ozpin's arc so far has been one where he has progressively moved from Salem's POV to Oscar's. From distrust to faith. From immortality to humanity.

Now, it is too soon to say how his story will turn out. However, I think that he should solve things with both his major relationships. Specifically:

He must overcome his relationship with Salem, which means letting go of her, but also seeing her humanity. Personally, I don't think they should go back together (I think the abusive framing is too on the nose and would be distasteful if they magically fix things). Still, I think Ozpin should empathize with her.

He must make sure Oscar survives and becomes his own person and not one of his lives. So far, Ozpin has ended up absorbing others' life, while this time, I think he should be the one absorbed. This should not be seen as something negative, but as him finding his humanity again. As stated in the beginning, humans live and die. Ozpin should do the same. He should probably choose Oscar (a personal connection) over his mission. In this way he can go back to be an individual rather than an idol. He can be free rather than burdened by an impossible duty.

In short, I think Ozpin is going to empathize with Salem and to die either at the very end or a little bit before in order to save Oscar.

Personally, I think Ozpin leaving the narrative before the final battle works best for his character. It means:

1 He is leaving the mission behind. He can be himself and not a hero

2 He is breaking the endless game he and Salem are playing with humans as pawns. This can be a sign of him also breaking their toxic bond and moving forward

3 He would be entrusting the kids with the future. He leaves the fight in their hands, which means he has restored his complete faith in others. He believes they can save the world and help/stop Salem better than he can

Obviously other possibilities are still on the table. However, as for now, I am pretty sure the reincarnation cycle has to stop before the end of the story.

Thank you for your ask and sorry for the wait! I hope your beginning of the year has been wonderful and that it keeps going on well :D

[roisy]

Find Masterlist

Hellfire Manipulation Spell: A powerful spell that utilized a large coven of Bennett witches to contain, control and prevent the unleashing of hellfire.

First Incantation: Phasmatos motus incendiarios!

Second Incantation: Phasmatos incendia movet, phasmatos incendia moventur, ego ex vos, vos ex unos, phasmatos incendia entrare! Phasmatos incendia movet, phasmatos incendia moveo!

Requirements: Bennett Coven 

Used By:  In I Was Feeling Epic, Bonnie, alongside the spirits of Sheila, Beatrice, Lucy, Ayana, the Witch of the Five, and other Bennett witches used the second variant spell to save Mystic Falls from destruction as well as to redirect the hellfire back to hell, destroying the dimension in the process.

White Oak Ash Dagger Creation Spell: An enchantment placed upon silver daggers that allows them to subdue an Original vampire when mixed with the ash of the White Oak Tree. The enchantment was cast with a side effect that will kill a vampire who tries to use the dagger.

Incantation: Unknown

Requirements: Silver Daggers, White Oak Ash

Used by: In The Dinner Party, it is revealed in the Gilbert Journals that the daggers were forged by witches, presumably the Witch of the Five and given to the Brotherhood; this is also indirectly mentioned by Alexander in The Five.

Hunter Creation Spell: The complex spell turned its targets into immortal-opposing supernatural hunters, bestowing upon them several unique abilities and attributes. On the original members, the Hunter’s Mark was a map to the Cure in the form of a body tattoo. They were supernaturally endowed peak physical conditioning, an invulnerable mind to psychic abilities to combat Silas, and a blood lust to kill immortal beings, such as vampires. 

Upon being slain by those which they hunt, the Hunter’s Curse would activate and psychologically torment their murderers until their own demise. This status could also be passed on to other humans known as “Potentials”. How potentials were chosen remains unknown, though they would also inherit the mark upon their predecessor’s death. Unlike the original members, the mark would only grow with each kill of an immortal being, i.e. vampires and Originals.

Incantation: Phasmatos Sintu Corpora, E It A Rero, Quest Ero Immortalis. Phasmatos, Victoris, E Insipio Exu Ne Moris. Sintasia Sintu Corpora, Quest Ero Immortalis.

Requirements: Targets, Storm (lightning), Fire, Ceremonial Jug

Used by: In The Five, Alexander recounts the Five’s creation of how the were bound by fire in the last breath of a dying Bennett witch in the 12th Century. The witch performed this spell to create the Brotherhood of the Five for a single purpose: to oppose Silas and destroy vampires. It is presumed that Qetsiyah communicated with her from the Other Side, as it has been shown that most Bennett Witches have communed with the Spirits, guiding her to their creation. This is based on the claim that she made to Stefan in Original Sin, stating that [her] hunters have failed in their task to kill Silas.

[zooterchet]

The Specialist 2: One Hit Wonder (Kampucheans)

Prince: Vienamese pearl divers. Typefied by "crocodile tears", unable to emote song to realified form. They don't know what joy is, they have it at all times.

Qureshi: The mustache man, with a vagina. Arab women, wearing a "pachi", a red and white cross-hatch sheih, the head dress commonly associated with Arab men. Rules on clothing, therefore diet, among "Jews", those disliked for reasons of intellect. A notoriously dumb people.

Dungannon: A chandala variant, the grave diggers of India; inventors of the wheelchair, through the chandala line, chaining multiple sclerotics, the Kings, to Hell, their invention, "Christianity", with death, birth defect, disease, poverty, starvation, and suffering as the result. The Dungannon variant, of the chandala, is known as a criminal's keeper, picking up archaic forms of criminal fraud, always related to children's exploitation, chiefly to make music with self as victim, to create new movements in enemy of own movement assorted.

Roosevelt: Known for having a diaphorous sarcophagus nasel disorder, an extra esphogual tube is present, making anything they do or say preserved in history, particularly when in "great pain". Often mocked, by England, for having invented myths backwards, through influence of "Romani", the word they invented; influence of word alone, marking children of prostitutes with bondage submissives stolen on their orders; often undone, however, with the present of a "Grey", a peace agitator that's actually a "Gremlin", a professional militant hunter of lesbians, their servants.

Taft: A switch tryptich of weight loss and gain, switching between muscular and obese, per generation. A German line, known for being pleasant in the destruction of others, often claiming tears and sobbing "chocolates", their pleased farts, however mistaking victims of other lines as fellow Tafts, a "chocolate berry", when assisted into their own financial demise. Founders of the Masonic Lodge, the narcotrafficking and narcotics prevention forces, of the military, taking away drugs to harm; undone by witch trials, related to narcotics, where the wealthy are purgatoried for performing drug use, removing drugs from the poor but leaving them in the rich, the entire Lodge undone from mercenary "French hire", out of Germany, with a myth in place from the culprit.

Bannister: A German line, the "goodwife", known to spread myths of hobgoblins and sinners through use of Leibniz, the math they developed while frauding Isaac Newton, in England. Leibniz, inducing a condition known as 'psychopathy wilderness', is only countered by the use of the word 'retarded' to refer to simplistic mathematical logic, hence calculus is removed entirely, the proper form prior and after Newton, assuming even Leibniz to never exist. The proofs involved, applied to art, therefore, culprit hunt those hiring the Bannisters for their logistics and appliances.

Nixon: A line of colon retardant, their colons retain moisture, for a poor smell typefied by a scent similar to sweat, actually their inner bowel moldering with fear and anger, the "graceful passion of God", as their admirer, Stanley "Lee" Leiberman, of Marvel Comics, called it. Spider-Man, was built on their legend, that of a wall crawling menace, someone that would monitor you through federal forces, to make sure you made their press, copy, news, and petty literature, just like they wanted; without masturbating.

Pratt: A lower line of Nixons, born into the Scythians, they are mostly useless, having been confronted with "anti-Semitism" from "Jews", the "Jewish anti-Semitism", their entire life, by the O'Neills, Clan Nihil, of the Steppes of Russia, often confused as to the origin, placing such defects into the other lines of the homoerotics. Noted for preferring gay police officers dating food services at force, for their couplings, however the least powerful among Steppes people; still slightly better than the rest of the dykes, because they understand transgender, as a fake diagnosis, created by delusion when refused by men (a common state of repose, given the blubbery nature of the vagina compared to the bosom and buttocks of the Vietnamese Clans listed).

Rodham: A line out of Spain, the Rodhams feature a salamandar blooded internal pulminory system, with a male placed in reverse sexual position upon ascension to leadership, the prior position taken with self as victim secondary to rise to power. This way, the male leader, can place the Rodham, as a proxy to national declaration and policy applied to country, through postured treatment towards Rodham requested by the malleable putty nature of personality, the shift of self as demanded treatment of national policy, from male leader abused until rising to power as appearing victim to own country's population.

O'Riordan: The most savage and vicious of the Kampucheans, these ones perform a high financial service for a military household, only accepting paramilitary and criminal hire, at the expense of a father's semen stolen, the father of an actress, to breed back in. Once "infirmed", they have produced and banqued a new line, they will volunteer their death for new "slaves", those involved in the conspiracy to kill them, unable to kill another O'Riordan in the future, their entire profession open to more hires of O'Riordans.

[murasakiyuzu]

i personally like how shingeki no kyojin said “ya if marco had lived he wouldve ended war”

[itstimetotheorize]

Shadowmoths victory, Marinette and Adriens breaking point, the miraculous teams desperate efforts (warning, spoilers for season 4 finale)

Ever since the series began, Marinette had always been considered to be one person who would be the most difficult for hawkmoth to manipulate. And while Marinette has had some close calls such as in  “Zombizou”, “Chameleon” and “Ladybug”, Marinette had always  succeeded in avoiding being akumatized, be it through sheer will power alone or just plain luck such as when Nathalie lost her grip on all the akumatized civilians, including Marinette!. 

However, ever since  the episode “chat blanc” had revealed to us just what it would take to akumatize chat noir , many of us had  since begun to wonder what it would take to finally akumatize Marinette?

Marinettes akumatization had always been foreshadowed in previous seasons, especially season 3. Out of all the foreshadowing the show could have ever provided for a number of things, it was almost as if the show was always hinting towards some extreme event should Marinette ever fall prey to hawkmoths manipulation. An event so shocking it would even rival the time chat blanc had destroyed all of Paris. As to what this event would be and how it would come to fruition, well…that all depended on what would happen to hawkmoth and ladybug.

In terms of  hawkmoth, well, hawkmoth had always stated how despite his ongoing defeat, he knew  ladybugs winning streak could not last forever, sooner or later her luck would run out and when it did, she would make a mistake that would finally guaranty his victory. The only question was...how exactly was ladybug(aka Marinette) going to screw up? what would have happened to her that would cause her to lose the cautiousness which has helped her overcome every obstacle thrown her way?. When it comes to Marinette and her battles against hawkmoth, Marinette had always thought things through, she had always remained cautious, calm, collected and above all...she learned not to let her emotions get the better of her so long as hawkmoth was watching and waiting....then again... If Marinette were truly ever to be akumatized, something needed to happen within the show which would lead her to throw all logic she had out the window....but what?...perhaps Zag studios had already provided us with an answer.

Early in July 2021, Zag studios had revealed something NO ONE believed they would have ever considered making public at such an early stage within the release of season 4, what was it exactly? well....it was the title and synopsis for the season 4 finale! 

According to this news, the season 4 finale had been revealed to be titled, “Shadow moths last attack”!....this... was a big deal! because ever since “Timetagger” revealed to us that Gabriel Agreste would Not be the hawk moth of the future, many wondered when exactly  Gabriels time as the villain of the series would come to an end. Well, after years of waiting, it would appear as though shadow moths time WILL come to an end... in season 4!.

But aside from revealing shadowmoths possible last season, Zag had also coincidentally revealed in an interview one very important, but not all to surprising plot point of the series. Before his inevitable demise... shadowmoth will first obtain what he had worked so hard to take...ladybug and chat noirs miraculous! 

However, despite hawkmoths inevitable victory before his final defeat, its clear something of great importance needed to happen to Marinette in order to guarantee hawkmoth obtaining the miraculous of creation….but what? What needed to happen?

Looking back at all the times shadowmoth had attempted to steal ladybug and chat noirs miraculous, shadow moth had only ever akumatized every person he could get his hands on in order to obtain the help he needed to accomplish his goal.... and yet time and time again, every person he had come across would fail him, but why?...well, maybe it was always because they were never the right person for the job... maybe what hawkmoth always needed was someone who would be considered his greatest “masterpiece”...and as we have seen throughout the series, that someone...was always Marinette!

but even if hawkmoth realizes he must obtain someone like Marinette in order to accomplish his goal, how would he even go about finally akumatizing her?... well...isn't it obvious...shadowmoth never needed to wait for her to fall into emotional destress, because all he needed to do was use the one person who he knew could push anyone to far... or quite simply, cause a situation which would purposely  force large groups of people to be akumatized at the same time. Who is this person exactly? well... we all know the answer to that....its Lila Ross of course!!

Despite Lilas lack of participation within season 4, many understood she couldn't stay quiet forever, after all, Lila had always been presented as someone who was more than willing to take part in some sort of major evil event within the series, such as the season 1 finale, the season 2 finale and even the season 3 finale!!. And based on zag studios reveal of the season 4 finale description, it would appear as though Lila will once again have her part to play. Looking at the season 4 synopsis, its said:

“Having understood that her cautiousness is the reason why Ladybug is always triumphing, Shadow Moth prepares a diabolic plan which consists of creating a supervillain able to make his victims take all sorts of risks. When Marinette finds out that Adrien is leaving Paris for a few weeks with Lila, the new figure of the Agreste brand, she’s ready to do anything to prevent him from doing so; but to what point? Would she reveal her secret identity for the sake of love? And would Adrien take the risk of finally confronting his father?”

Now, despite Marinette having been displayed as someone who was willing to take risks for the wrong reasons in the past, Marinette has also been shown to improve in taking risks for the right reasons over the span of the series (such as entrusting Alya with her secret identity). However!...keep in mind we don't yet know for sure if Marinette will be the one akumatized within the season 4 finale until the studio reveals the official season 4 finale trailer. But if Marinette is truly planned to be akumatized, then its possible the studio may have already revealed to us what we had suspected all along. Just as in “ladybug”, Lila will once again be used by hawkmoth in order to attempt to akumatize the “bad influence” she claims to be following Adrien, the bad influence being of course, Marinette herself! However, considering Lilas agreement with Adrien to not hurt the people he cares about (after pulling a stunt on Marinette which caused her to get expelled) its clear Gabriel will have to devise a scheme which will place Lila in a situation where she will finally force Marinette to reach her breaking point and make her take every risk she can as she watches Lila being given the chance  to leave on a trip with Adrien! 

And considering the great lengths Marinette went through just to warn Adrien of Lila back in “Oni- chan”, who knows what kind of lengths Marinette will go through to stop Lila and Adrien from leaving together. Should this occur, its possible Marinette will begin to lose her sense of self and toss all logic she has out the window as she uses everything and I mean EVERYTHING she has at her disposal to accomplish her goal...this includes her powers as ladybug! 

It wouldn't be the first time Marinette had used her powers for selfish reasons. After all, the only reason the events of “chat blanc” occurred in the first place, was because Marinette decided to use her powers to enter Adriens room in order to leave her signed gift. This single act alone was what ultimately lead Adrien to discover that ladybug is Marinette. So then...  if Marinette were to once again use her powers for the sake of love, would her actions once again result in the one mistake she always knew would lead to disaster? would her misguided attempts.... reveal her identity to shadowmoth himself?!...maybe

If Marinettes desperate attempts really result in her identity being revealed to shadowmoth then would her frustration over Lila, piled on top of everything else she is dealing with as ladybug and guardian, finally seal her fate of being akumatized?!...perhaps....but even if Marinette were to finally be akumatized and even if hawkmoth were to finally obtain his chance to take the miraculous of creation, how would he then obtain the miraculous of destruction from Adrien?...well...lets just say Gabriel might have already had his suspicions from the very beginning, after all, aside from Marinettes akumatization being for shadowed within every season thus far, the only other major for shadowing which followed parallel to Marinette was Gabriels growing suspicion towards Adrien and the ring he had on his finger! However, even if Gabriel continues to grow suspicious towards Adrien, what could possibly happen between the two off them that will finally reveal to Gabriel his sons secrets?...unless...what if Gabriel reveals his secrets to Adrien first?...

Gabriel had always stated how much he wished he could have told Adrien about his mothers true condition and whereabouts. That despite all the cruel things he had done up to now, it was all for the sake of bringing his mother back. When Adrien had discovered hawkmoths identity and the true reason behind his actions back in “chat blanc”, we see how despite chat noirs loyalty to ladybug and despite him wanting to carry out his responsibility as a hero by stopping hawkmoth, Adrien still struggled with  the thought of being given the chance to be reunited with his own mother, even at the cost of ladybug and his miraculous! 

The frustration of his fathers true identity, the realization about his mother having never disappeared and hawkmoths words swaying him with the idea that he could have his mom back was what gave shadowmoth the chance he needed to finally take chat noirs mind and force him to be akumatized! However, keep in mind, all these events happened in a separate timeline which was later fixed through Bunnyx powers and ladybugs quick thinking to erase her name on her signed gift to Adrien. The events of “chat blanc” were sealed to never happen again so hawkmoth would never find out Adriens true identity as chat noir...but if hawkmoth were to truly obtain the miraculous of destruction then... wouldn't Adrien first give him the chance to take it all over again!?

Fans had always feared the return of chat blanc within the series, especially after seeing chat noirs growing frustration over ladybug throughout the span of season 4.

If Adrien were to discover all over again hawkmoths identity and his mother whereabouts near the end of season 4, would Adrien once again give shadowmoth the chance he needs to once again akumatize him?!...along with Marinette?! or would Adriens confusion and distress lead him to once again become vulnerable enough to make a mistake which would reveal to Gabriel what he had suspected all along... his own son.... has a miraculous! but not just any  miraculous, the miraculous of destruction he’s been fighting for!

However!, despite hawkmoth being fated to finally obtain both miraculous, there is still something even hawkmoth himself has yet to realize... something he never bothered to consider as he became blindsided with his thoughts of victory... his wish.... CAN be granted... but its comes with a PRICE!....Its just as Master Fu said, whoever wields the ladybug and cat miraculous will be given the chance to make a wish that can alter reality itself. However!, because the universe needs to maintain a balance when a wish is made, something of equal effect must happen in return. Despite Gabriels plan to use the miraculous to fix a past mistake and finally restore his wife to her former self, Gabriel might have never realized once his wish is granted, something bad will happen in return! as to what this disastrous result would be... well, your guess is as good as mine. If hawkmoth tried to just revive his wife then perhaps someone else might be forced to take her place. But if Gabriel were to go to the extreme and actually change a past event which lead his wife to be in the state she is in now, then this alone could prove to have major consequences. Its just as Bunnyx said, messing with time is dangerous, and if your not careful it could have dire consequences in the future.

 But regardless of what will happen, one thing is for certain, the end result of Gabriels wish.... will be catastrophic! and may quite possibly be to much for ladybug and chat noir to solve even if they do manage to get their miraculous back!

so, this does beg the question, should hawkmoth obtain the miraculous of destruction and creation after akumatizing Marinette and quite possibly even Adrien then later cause a catastrophic event upon seeing his wish be granted...what could possibly happen within the series to solve this mess?!... well, keep in mind, ladybug already planned ahead, after all, she and chat noir are no longer the only superheroes in Paris. Even if she and chat noir were to be defeated by hawkmoth, there is still one person hiding in the shadows, ready to take action and ready to gather all the heroes of the miraculous team in order to face this challenge. Who is this miraculous person waiting to take action should the day arrive? why...its Alya of course!

Ever since Alya had been entrusted by Marinette to act as a temporary replacement to ladybug( should anything ever happen to her) many understood it would only be a matter of time before Alya had to take charge and gather the rest of the miraculous team in order to fight the two people anyone would dread facing in battle, ladybug and chat noir!. But how would Alya even begin to figure out the proper way to handle this kind of situation even with the aid of the other miraculous heroes?, Alya only ever understood ladybugs side of things now that she knew her secret identity, but how could she possibly help chat noir when she doesn't even know who he is!....then again....she doesn't have to struggle with figuring out who chat noir is...because Luka already knows both ladybug and chat noirs identities!

We always theorized ladybug and chat noirs identities would one day be revealed to someone close to them, granted, since season 4 is still ongoing we don't yet know if Adrien will bring himself to reveal his own identity to Nino just as Marinette revealed her identity to Alya at the start of the season. But, ever since the events of “Wishmaker” revealed to Luka the identities of ladybug and chat noir, fans had wondered why Luka of all people would be set up to discover both of their identities without either of their consent?, well, after much debate, the answer may have been obvious all along... unlike the other miraculous heroes, he and one other miraculous holder carry with them a power  which will serve of great importance should Alya and the others be forced to face ladybug, chat noir and hawkmoth all at the same time. Considering the unimaginable challenge which is to be faced near the end of season 4, then its possible Luka was always one person who needed to know ladybug and chat noirs identities should he ever give the team a winning chance! 

If what we suspect is true and if  Alya and the others are meant to face their leaders in a fight, its obvious this fight alone... will be doomed to be plagued with errors and failures!, after all, this is ladybug and chat noir we are talking about, the miraculous team doesn't stand a chance against this dynamic duo to begin with, but if Alya and the other heroes ever plan to succeed then they must have someone who will proved them with a “second chance”, no matter how many things go wrong! Lukas power alone can provide the team with as many chances needed in order to change everything which could result in failure! and  with luka having already known ladybug and chat noirs identities, he will waste no time in finding a way to save their friends rather than remain in shock and confusion over the outcome which will occur in the finale. But if this were to be the teams solution in saving ladybug and chat noir, then what will they then do about the mess hawkmoth leaves once his wish is granted?

 If his wish were to truly cause a catastrophic event, would Marinettes miraculous ladybug be able to fix it even if they managed to defeat shadowmoth? we’ve seen ladybugs power repair some extraordinary things, but could it repair the effects of the two most powerful miraculous being used together? Should ladybug try to repair this incredible damage and fail, then what would she and the others do next once they’ve all failed?....unless....what if this was never their mess to help fix, because if everyone fails, then maybe it will soon be time for ladybug to call upon the one miraculous holder who had been labeled as “the miraculous of last chance”....what is this miraculous?...why...the rabbit miraculous of course!

Fans had always been anticipating the return of Bunnyx, or rather, they have always been waiting to see when young Alix would finally have her chance to use the rabbit miraculous. But considering the dangers of the rabbit miraculous, many knew it would not be used until the day it was absolutely necessary... well... if the team were to continue struggling in saving ladybug and chat noir, then perhaps Alix will soon rise up to help figure out a way to not only save ladybug and chat noir, but also help find a way to repair the incredible damage which will be caused by hawkmoths wish...but what will she do?... will she travel to the past to alter something which will fix the present?... if so, what would she even change without causing another catastrophe?... or will she travel to the future and seek the aid of someone who she knows could help her and the team solve this terrifying crises?...but even if she did, who could she possibly bring back to the present?...would it be someone she already knew and trusted just as much as her future self talked about trusting herself?....someone like...the ladybug and chat noir of the future!?...maybe...but I guess we will just have to wait and see, for now thats just a theory... a miraculous ladybug theory!

[sneakerdoodle]

i think Eyala is like... a very interesting, fun and... sort of nice interpretation of an everloving divine consciousness? her actions get interpreted as manipulation, and there is no doubt that the whole 'Hero' thing really did take advantage of Audrey's underlying insecurities and the deeply ingrained notion that she is not enough, not important. this, specifically, makes it harder to articulate why i feel like it was still... good-natured, in a way? but it feels like that

i think here, once again, the fact that every person in the world had the same dream is incredibly important. Audrey was not picked out for some outstanding qualities, nor as an easy target to manipulate, nor was she groomed into the Hero role. or, more specifically, the vulnerable, pained mindset that kicked in when she was given the sword was created not by Eya or Eyala, but the world Audrey was born into and grew up in; the world where everyone is torn away from one another, unable to see each other's worth, desperately trying to prove their own.

so Audrey was shaped by her reality - and then made her own decisions. every single person was put into the same situation - and Audrey was the one to choose to wield the blade. i'm pretty sure that means that if the Hero was not a thing and the world started falling apart without Audrey speeding up the process, she would still try to fight, and be heroic, but would probably just. die pretty quickly while trying to stand up to the monsters? but that's just speculation

either way, her choices were hers, specifically because she was never technically chosen, never told she was INHERENTLY special; she just stepped up when no one else would, she chose to BECOME the Hero, because that was her interpretation of worthiness

circling back to Eya and Eyala and their motivations... it's, really great that they are not omnipotent? Eya did not choose to forsake the universe our characters share, she did not get bored of it. the reasons for corruption are simply time, entropy, erosion, things moving farther and farther away from each other and losing their connection to each other, their harmony. the Dream King repeatedly emphasized that the general discord among people IS the corruption, that no song will help unless the people themselves are healed and united

neither Eya nor Eyala have any control over how we act, how we treat each other; we are the ones bringing about our end, and we are the ones that get to reverse it

so... what would this creative, loving divine being do when the world she sang into existence started degrading into chaos, pain, misery, death and destruction, when she has no way to stop it from doing so, and has never, in an infinite amount of universes, seen that process reversed? what can she do when the Overseers get corrupted and turn on the world they are meant to uphold, when towns and cities are assaulted by monsters that cannot be stopped by human means?

wouldn't she wish for a quieter, gentler end, still terrifying and painful, but not drawn out in time as people suffer in fear of their impending death in a nightmarish world? wouldn't it be better if they could stand outside and hold hands as the stars rain down, instead of struggling through a brutal, monster-ridden reality with no actual hope for a better world at the end?

wouldn't she want to put the world out of its misery?

we can argue that her and/or Eyala's actions are still misguided, insincere, taking advantage of the human condition, whether purposefully or not. but it does seem to me that the only thing they were going for is what they perceived to be the best possible course of actions in a truly horrible, hopeless demise of a whole universe? and this course of action was still horrible, but that is simply the outcome of something bigger and powerful but not almighty trying to take care, however it can, of something smaller and less adjusted than it. which is, really really hard, if you ever ended up with an animal in your care, for example. a lot of hard and imperfect decisions have to be made, sooner or later

Eyala can't say no to The Bard, because they asked so passionately; and since the entire plan is to ease the world into its end with as little individual pain as possible, why would she shatter this cute sweet human's heart if instead they can live out their last days hoping?

and of course, the pain of finding out they had been purposefully misled is just as great if not greater; but once again, neither Eyala or Eya have any perfect insight, or any motifs outside of just, wanting the best for the mortal creatures. and they end up taking some truly misguided steps, but i guess that's the danger of this sort of, coddling love that just wants to see the object of it suffer as little as possible

this turned out to be a whole Eya apologism post fhfhjdks but going back to my initial point, if we accept that both her and Eyala are fundamentally loving, caring, and that they wish for the best for reality, i think Eyala is very very interesting in how she expresses this unconditional love and care... her animated, passionate affection is so different from what we see in these sort of, extremely purified reserved trans-personal examples of sainthood or divinity? she is not reserved, she is playful and giggling and finding the humans soooo adorable and fun and exciting!! and i just sort of love that a lot! unconditional omnipresent divine love must find every expression of humanity so very endearing... Eyala sees every single person she comes across as great in their own way; she never renounces her love for Audrey, even if she can admit that Audrey's drive is dangerous and unbalanced

if you listen to Kalila Stormfire's Economical Magick Services (which i really recommend!!), that's how Aphrodite gets interpreted there: the goddes of unconditional love, full of endless fondness of humanity, gently laughing at her sweet, confused children

what i'm saying is, if there is a unified ever-loving divine consciousness out there (and i do believe there is), i would absolutely want it to look at me doing my best and go 'awwwwwwwwwwwww this one is so cute <3' as if i were an awkward stumbling puppy bonking my head against furniture

[woffordswords]

NieR Replicant (Part 1: History and Myth)

NieR Replicant begins with a boy, huddling in the corner of a derelict store, nestled in a ruined city totally devoid of any signs of life. We are told by expository text that this is summer, and yet snow falls from the sky and somber operatic vocals create a sense of sadness and loss, rather than one of rebirth and renewal. This is, we come to sense, a instance of humanity itself on the verge of extinction. The player takes control of the boy who, wielding a long metal pipe, fights off misshapen humanoid creatures who stagger forwards towards him, swinging heavy blades and displaying only an instinctual drive towards destruction. After the initial fight, the boy turns back and retreats to an aisle in the store where a young girl, his sister, “Yonnah”, lies in wait. She is sick, likely dying, and he is struggling to protect her from threats coming from without even as she is consumed by the disease attacking her from within. His struggle, we see, is a futile one. There is no help to be found, no medicine to give her, and no sustenance to aid them, save for a single cookie rescued from a tin by Yonnah while the player was fighting to protect her. In this moment of desperation, Yonnah resists her brother’s urging that she should eat the entire cookie herself and expresses a reciprocal love and concern for her brother and his health, insisting that they split the cookie in half. Love and a willingness to sacrifice in a time of crisis is here cemented as one of the game’s central themes. 

A jolt, the cookie falls to the floor as more enemies appear and another fight begins. The boy reaches out to a book, a tome of knowledge, a record of the past, in order to gain magical power necessary to fight off these invaders. He had previously resisted the book’s appeals to him, which were spoken out loud by the book to signal it’s magical sentience, but now succumbs to it. He had previously told Yonnah not to touch a similar book that lay by her side, but he chooses to make the sacrifice he wished to spare her from. We don’t really know the reason for the boy’s initial distrust of the tome, but it is clearly signaled. After defeating waves and waves of dark creatures, there is stillness and the boy returns to his sister only to find that she too, in this moment of desperation, had succumb to a temptation for the power to protect another that the book had signaled. But unlike the boy, whose covenant seems to have increased his strength greatly, the girl’s choice seems to have weakened her even further, bringing her closer to death. Running across her skin and emanating outward like inky discharge from an octopus are strange black words, which we will come to learn are the symptoms of a new disease, a sinister unprecedented threat to humanity that had emerged out of a moment in which salvation seemed, if not assured, at least possible for the first time. Holding his sister tightly, the boy screams to the heavens, pleading for help despite the impossibility that anyone will hear his cry.

This is the opening sequence of NieR and it is one that the player may or may not think about quite a bit as the play the game because it’s relation to the totality of the events that follow is evident and yet never fully made clear. The rest of the game takes place in a setting that is entirely removed from this opening sequence. We are told it is 1,500 years later, humanity has not disappeared, but has reverted to a pre-modern state, living amidst the ruins of modern civilization. What remains, curiously, to link us to that moment in the supposed past is the exact same boy and girl in a nearly identical situation. The girl is sick, the brother wants to help her all by himself. The girl, frustrated by her own inability to act, seeks out a higher power, this time a rare and beautiful flower that promises luck and wealth to any who obtain it. She searches in a ruined temple where she is overcome and falls into a magical coma, but the brother tracks her down and rescues her. However, upon their return home, the same dark words emerge from her skin, only now we have a name for the condition that produces them: “the black scrawl”. The boy knows of this disease as it is already running rampant throughout his world. What’s more, he knows that it is fatal. But a chance presents itself, an ancient book that speaks and grants magical powers is found at the site of the sister’s imprisonment. A legend of unknown providence tells of a struggle between good and evil, between light and dark, in which this book somewhat ambiguously holds the key to vanquishing a dark plague from the land. And so begins a quest, to fight the dark creatures, “shades” as we now know them to be called, that threaten this land so as to unlock the full power of the book with the aim that in doing so, eventually, the sister, and all the others who suffer with this strange disease, might be cured.

How is it that the exact same boy and girl came to be involved in such a similar situation, albeit in such a different context. They do not appear to know of their past life. Were they saved somehow, delivered from their impending demise, only to have to face it again? Many possibilities may spin through the players head, but ultimately the game chooses to leave this matter unresolved. We never learn how it is possible that the boy and the girls survived their ordeal, how they have come to exist over a thousand years apart from when we first witnessed them. And in the absence of such knowledge and in the repeated echoes of their story, as it recurs in elongated form in the game’s present, we come to understand that it only makes sense if we ascribe to it, at least partially, the status of myth. That is to say that we are not meant to understand these two sets of events within the game as causally connected, preceding from one to the other in the manner of history, but rather as a timeless and eternal cycle from which essential patterns of human existence can be observed and reflected on. 

The question of the relation between myth and history is thus entertained, but left open. We are led by the game to think about how these two symmetrical stories might be causally linked, but such a link is only alluded to and never fully substantiated. The passage from myth to history is essentially a sort of transcendence, a passage from one knowledge system to another. Such a transcendence is inherently unrepresentable because neither system of knowledge can account for the other within the limits of its own terms. This is a complicated way of saying that, for instance, once historical causality between two sets of events, one existing in the mythical past, the other in historical present, is established, the past events would cease to be mythical because their essential, timeless character would be invalidated. The only way this transition could be represented is if there were some way to figure the transcendence of humanity, or human consciousness, from one state of being/knowing to another.

In NieR, the basis for thinking causality between the opening’s mythical past and the main game’s historical present is through the transcendence of one reality for another. Specifically, a transition from a biological reality to a digital one. This possibility is conveyed to the player as the possible result of an experiment referred to as “Project Gestalt”. Put simply, Project Gestalt attempted to separate human minds from bodies because said bodies were failing, consumed by disease and thus no longer capable of supporting life. After human memories and consciousnesses were separated and preserved, they would be implanted into new bodies, known as replicants (in an homage to Blade Runner), which would be immune to the disease and thus capable of allowing human life to continue unabated. The many difficulties in conceiving how such as transformation of humanity would be possible (how is consciousness extracted, how are the replicants made, how are human consciousness and replicant combined) are eventually, in the game’s conclusion, resolved to the degree that it is implied that all that we have seen before us in the game’s main narrative has actually been playing out in a simulated, virtual world (which, in my mind still doesn't really resolve these questions, but it does make answers to them slightly more plausible given the godlike control that programmers have over virtual systems).

The transcendence of reality represented by Project Gestalt is plausible, but also unsubstantiatable. For us to acknowledge it as actually occurring, we must be willing to accept that the boy we witnessed in the game’s introduction was somehow able to save his sister, as well as humanity at large, by transferring their consciousness, as well as his own, from the reality that he had lived in to a simulated reality that he created (or that was created for him). This scenario is unlikely at best given what we see of him and his past, but not impossible. The game chooses to leave the connection between the events of the prologue and the main game unresolved. Thus, it figures this transcendence as a gap, or an abyss, in which the unthinkable can be thought, but not ascertained. 

However, even as it makes this specific passage from myth to history thinkable, it moves to invalidate it in a counter motion in order to keep the sense of it’s mythical, rather than historical, resonance alive. Once we become aware of the premise of Project Gestalt, as well as it’s limitation – it turns out that the new replicants bodies are themselves afflicted by the disease they were designed to protect humanity from – obvious contradictions begin to arise that threaten the coherence of the narrative of transcendence outlined above. Among these are the presence of the black scrawl, shades, and magic, things that make sense in a simulated world but not in a biological one, in the events of the game’s prologue. Furthermore, it is heavily implied that the cause of the black scrawl, of humanities impending extinction, is an incompatibility between Gestalt (the human consciousness preserved and implanted) and Replicant (the artificial body and receptacle). This incompatibility stems from the replicant’s own status as a form of intelligent life and manifests in the “devolution” and madness that occurs when two sentient entities, Gestalts and Replicants, are forced together, leading them to become Shades. If this is true, because the black scrawl and shades were already present within the prologue it is implied that the boy and girl from the game’s opening were already not the “original” human beings, but themselves composites of Gestalts and Replicants (or something like them) and thus susceptible to the black scrawl. This casts the events of the game’s prologue as already located in an uncertain cycle wedged between myth and history with its own past that remains inaccessible. While it’s possible to see this prior instance of the black scrawl as a metaphor for something else, the ruined cityscape and unnatural weather seem to suggest the figure of climate change as well as the underlying incompatibility between human and environment as the proto-form or ground for the later Gestalt-Human metaphor, the game is insistent on primarily representing this crisis, i.e. Shades and the Black Scrawl, in a manner that is identical to how it is represented in the game’s present. As such, a return to the game’s beginnings, even with the total knowledge of the game’s conclusion in hand, suggests the mythic structure of eternal recurrence and repetition more than it confirms a possible, but fraught logic of transcendence.

There is always a gap or an abyss that links myth and history and the speculative terms which we may use in the attempt to overcome this gap really also serve to open up further gaps about a deeper history that we still lack access to and to insist on a mythical ahistoricality that asserts its ever-presence. NieR is a game that is acutely aware of this paradox and the many ellipses and instances of logical imprecision that it includes throughout its narrative (beyond the one that I have focused on here the ways that it tells the story of it’s other main characters, notably Emil and his multiple transformations is a good example of another) are most productively understood in this manner. As such, as much as we may feel compelled (myself included) to criticize the game’s narrative by pointing to these details as plot holes or instead, to forgive them as instances where the player is expected to entertain the suspension of disbelief for the purposes of more immediate emotional gratification, I would argue that we do better to see NieR as carefully and compellingly articulating this mess of tangled cables that arises from the attempt to tell stories that can satisfy the timeless desire for enduring truth while simultaneously acknowledging our particular need for immediate logical coherence. They reflect a unique form of cultural desire for a particular sort of story that is able to balance the affordances of myth and history without succumbing to the logic of one or the other.

A more general account of this tendency would emphasize how common the preference for ambiguity is in modern art. This sort of ambiguity, where we’re not quite sure what framework to use to understand how the events in this story relate to each other is common in modern art and seems, most obviously, to reflect an anxiety or insecurity about the efficacy of our established systems for understanding the world around us, telling stories, and making meaning. I do think this makes sense in relation to NieR, since extinction and rebirth are themes that exist around a nexus of great anxiety and that knowledge in the game and the human relationship to it is a specific site of specific anxiety for many of the characters in the game’s narrative. However, more specifically, I would also account for the significance of this desire in the following way: The game wants to tell a sort of mythical story about human extinction and rebirth, but it also wants to say something about its particular medium: the digital game/system. These two strains of desire are connected; something about digital games/systems in particular are connected with myths about extinction and rebirth. Additionally, something about digital games/systems gives them a stronger connection to a mythical worldview than what is typical in other media of modern art. I would argue that this likely has to do with the presence of the player and the role of their behavior in relation to the game/system which is both mythical in scope, repeated across many games and even repeated within a single game (like NieR), while also being particular to each game. Something that I’ve started to see as a recurring theme across several video games, including in Kojima’s Death Stranding, another game about extinction and rebirth, is that human beings are something akin to a different species when they are playing games (”homo-ludens” as they are referred to in that game). Thus, interacting with systems seems to imply something like extinction and rebirth for humanity in the eyes of some of their creators.

[formalmess]

For Your Entertainment ~ Chapter Thirteen (Finale)

Summary: The show comes to an end.

Warnings: Gore, Character Death, Murder

“Ahahahaha!”

Dimentio’s maddened laughter echoed into the rumbling air of the late evening, his bright yellow eye examining the man cowering before him. Luigi whimpered in terror, lifting one shaky hand as though to defend himself.

“N-No… you c-can’t...”

Mortified, Luigi scooted back as Dimentio moved to approach him. However, the jester made no motions or indications he’d attack him. He merely surveyed his remaining audience member from afar, the smile on his face twisted upward.

“Ahaha… How scared you must be, like an infant crying out for help in an overflowing bathtub!” Dimentio chuckled, lowering his floating form to stand atop the roof.

His jester garb was stained with blood, dark blotches over hues of sparkling purple and yellow. The bells on his hat jingled as he moved, shifting his gaze.

“No… you c-can’t… n-no… no, no, no… can’t be… you aren’t real…”

“Why, I can't help but say I’m offended, Luigi. I am no mere illusion!” Dimentio smiled, making a dramatic motion with his arms as sparks appeared at his fingertips. “I can assure you, I am very corporeal. But, I compel you to have no fear, man in green. I even brought you a gift, as some consolation.”

Dimentio lifted something small, the tiny object twinkling as it reflected the light of the moon. Revealing the small band of gold squeezed between his fingers, Dimentio threw it to the ground casually in front of Luigi.

Luigi immediately regained himself, hastily scrambling to catch the ring as it clinked and rolled along the shingles of the roof, narrowing falling off. Luigi snatched it up, gasping for air. He held the ring close, clutching a fist protectively around it.

Luigi breathed a short gasp of relief before flinching in fear as he felt a pressure clamp down on his shoulder.

“I suppose your union didn’t last as long as you thought it would, hm? A shame.” Dimentio laughed in Luigi’s ear.

Luigi wept silently, eyes hazy as he ran his fingers over the dried blood on the ring, blue darkened stains coating it.

“P-Peasley...” He choked on his painful cries, hiccuping as his shoulders heaved. “No... no, no, I-I... he... w-why...?”

“I must say,” Dimentio removed his hand from Luigi’s shoulder, circling around the shivering man to face him in the eyes. “The foolish prince lasted much longer than I expected! And you really have to admit, Luigi, it was quite a fun trick!”

“You…” Luigi inhaled, holding back tears. “Y-You took e-everything… f-from me…”

“Well, that was the point, was it not? I’m simply keeping with my promise from the beginning. Don’t you remember my letter?” Dimentio chuckled, leaning forward. “To think, all that time from then to now has led up to this very moment! Our confrontation, alone, without any interference from your so-called 'loved ones'…”

“M-Murderer...” Luigi finally managed to spit out, trying to raise his body in defiance.

“Ah, there’s no need to hurt my fragile feelings!” Dimentio whined childishly before bursting into laughter. “Why, this show was orchestrated purely for your entertainment! I acted the part accordingly, and you should really appreciate your host’s efforts.”

A whimper was all Luigi could get out in response, breaking down into hurried sobs and shrieks.

“Why couldn’t you just let me d-die?! W-What now…? Y-You’re just going to keep tormenting m-me…? Is that what you want?!”

The abrupt scream left Dimentio silenced, for a moment. He paused, curling his fingers.

“...Not exactly. Though that may have been my initial goal, tormenting you and watching you fall apart, it is no longer what I seek. But I cannot lie, that would be quite the amusing thing to watch!” 

Dimentio’s floaty tone danced in the wind, practically twisting around Luigi and asphyxiating him as the evening air grew thick.

“But, no. You see, as I sat rotting away in the deepest and darkest pit of the Underwhere, locked up in a damp and cold cell with only my thoughts as accompaniment, I couldn’t help but begin to think and ponder on what had led to my demise...”

Luigi cautiously watched as Dimentio moved. The harlequin clicked his fingers together, almost anxiously.

“My plan should have gone perfectly! I should have been able to easily wipe out all dimensions! But all my efforts were swiftly foiled by some wandering heroes and the power of...” Dimentio cringed, gagging. “Love.”

He brushed himself off, clearing his throat.

“But-! As I started to think, I finally understood my shortcomings, and strangely enough, they all seemed to circle right back to... you…”

Dimentio’s tone snarled and lowered dangerously, a shiver crawling up Luigi’s spine.

”YOU were the reason everything went wrong. You were weak. Weak, afraid, and powerless. You were unable to create a being capable of destroying all worlds, even with mine and the Chaos Heart’s influence.” Dimentio spat, looming over Luigi as every word he spoke dripped with absolute hatred. Luigi continued to cower in fear, not wanting to further enrage the jester standing before him.

“But… I couldn’t stop thinking. You were supposed to have been the perfect vessel as foretold, and yet I still failed. So, tell me, man in green, how could that be?” 

Dimentio’s tone softened, the harlequin lowering himself back to the ground as he relaxed and exhaled. Momentarily, he waited, simply letting the breeze past by. His cape gently swayed in the wind.

"Forgive me, plumber, if I’m moving through all this too quickly. I suppose you must be wondering why I saved your life in the first place, correct…?"

Dimentio amusedly lifted a finger to his cheek, grinning.

”Certainly, you must think I want nothing more than to see you as a colorful splatter on the ground, right?" His voice fell to almost a whisper, but still maintained that ever-familiar malicious tone to it. "Wouldn’t it be better to let you live and suffer, than to let you perish and fall to such an unceremonious fate?”

The jester snickered before allowing his tone to become serious.

“I have no intentions of seeing harm come to you, Luigi. Instead, I wanted to offer you something… something you refused ever so long ago.”

“W-What are you talking about?”

“Well, why else would I be here? Why else would I have saved you from such an early demise?” Dimentio laughed, amused. “Why, I’m here to ask if you’ll join me!”

Luigi froze. “...W-What?”

“Ahaha, as I previously questioned, how was it that I failed even when I was supposed to be an invincible and perfect being of destruction? With the ideal vessel and the Chaos Heart in my hands, there was no possible way I could fail… That is, unless, there were complications with the man I supposedly had under my control.”

Luigi stiffened.

“Think about it. Even if I was controlling you with that Floro Sprout, those little seedlings can only last so long. They’re not meant to control people for such extended periods of time, especially under such strenuous conditions. I couldn’t keep you restrained to the Chaos Heart forever.”

Dimentio smiled, floating toward Luigi and getting close to his face, his laughter ringing in his ears.

“So… that’s when I came to the conclusion that I had to make you willingly agree to working with me again, in order to create a perfect world!”

“W-What?”

“All I had to do was escape from the Underwhere and concoct a show meant to make you bend, and break, and ultimately… shatter…!” Dimentio explained maliciously. “Then, the fertile subconscious of your mind would be rather easy to take hold of! Just a bit of coaxing is necessary, hm?”

Tears beginning to streak down Luigi’s face. The terrified brunette could only shake his head in terror. “N-No…”

“Ahahaha! As I told you before, you and I both contain parts of each other within our souls. Being fused together has that effect, wouldn’t you believe?” Dimentio’s grin stretched unnaturally.

“We each hold shadows of the Chaos Heart inside of us, pulsing and thumping away within our own chests. It controls parts of you, as much as you may hate to admit it. Much like how you hate to admit that we are much more alike than you want to believe. We’re apart of one another, Luigi.”

“No… I would n-never help you… y-you m-monster…! I-I’m not like… y-you…!”

“Hmm, hmm. That’s what I expected you to say.” Dimentio’s smile refused to waver. “So, what’s the alternative, man in green? A life of solitude, constantly shrouded in eternal darkness and suffering as the rest of the world grows weary from despair? Perhaps end your game to cease the pain? What good would that do? Everyone is mourning the tragedy left in the wake of the show, and you’ll just let that continue? Think of your poor brother, Luigi. Imagine how upset he would be.”

”You…” Luigi inhaled shakily, voice practically inaudible now. “Y-You j-just want to destroy i-it all…”

“If you were to join me, Luigi, all of the sorrow you’ve ever experienced could disappear. This world could start over. It would be a clean and empty slate for us, to conjure a perfect world without pain or suffering. No one would cry out for answers and beg some deity for salvation in the horror of hardship, like a desperate peasant at the feet of a malevenont ruler. Everyone would be happy, and perfect. Nothing would be out of place, or incorrect.”

“S-Shut up…”

Dimentio grinned. “You may keep up that act for as long as you wish, but I know your true emotions. I’m sure Mr. L had to have come from somewhere, right? That deep resentment you hold in your heart against your brother’s neverending fame, and the world that has wronged you… always left behind and discarded in favor of your much-loved heroic sibling? Wouldn’t you love to be the hero for once? You’d be more than that, even. You’d be a King. A God.”

“N-No… stop…”

“Even now, the Chaos Heart stirs within you, begging to be used to its full potential yet again! Who are you to refuse it’s call?” Dimentio pressed a hand down on Luigi’s chest for only a moment, just to feel the panicked beats within.

“You could BE something, Luigi. You could be so much more than what you are now, a second choice to everyone. A joke.”

Luigi’s head was cloudy, his thoughts jumbling. His heart was pounding hard against his ribcage, threatening to tear apart his chest and rip out of his body. He couldn’t breathe steadily anymore.

“Stop it, stop it, s-stop it…” Luigi shoved Dimentio aside, trying to stand up now, wobbling.

“If not for yourself, then what of those who are suffering? What of those who died?” Dimentio’s smile finally turned to a frown. “After all, it’s your fault they’re dead. You didn’t protect them. You were weak. You failed them.”

“STOP!”

“But, that doesn’t mean you can’t try again. You could restart everything. In our perfect world, we could bring them back!” Dimentio exclaimed excitedly, lifting his hands.

”Y-You’re lying…! YOU’RE LYING!”

“I can’t promise they’d be perfect duplicates, but they’d be enough for you. They’d contain all the traits you loved about them, beings created just to adore and admire you. You’d be their ruler, as you brought them life. They’d forever live in your debt, always be there to listen to you when you needed them… You could bring them all back, Luigi. You could undo this, if you just work with me.”

Luigi went to scream something in protest, but all that emerged from his throat was a strangled shriek. He sputtered, bursting into quivering sobs. 

“Please… I-I don’t… no...”

“We can make a perfect world. If we work together once more, we’ll have complete control over these pitiful dimensions. We could end the pain and suffering of this world, and create a perfect one in its place. Anything you desire could be possible.”

Dimentio outstretched his hand.

“So what do you say, man in green?” Dimentio grinned. “Shall we make a perfect world?”

“No… wrong… m-monster…”

“What else do you have to live for? Your brother? Oh, let’s be honest here. He couldn’t care less about you, Luigi. You didn’t even think or care to tell him of all the suffering you’ve had to endure. Your bond isn’t admirable. It’s weak, much like you. Wouldn’t you much rather prefer it to be flawless, without any imperfections?”

Luigi couldn’t think anymore. His chest ached. He felt like throwing up. His head spun, his heart and mind pulsing and pounding painfully.

He didn’t know what was happening. Everything hurt.

“Come now, Luigi.” Dimentio moved closer, floating down to stand in front of him, moving his hand slightly. He smiled, seeming oddly genuine. “Everything will be better if you just agree.”

Luigi shifted, moving his hands from his sides. 

He let Peasley’s wedding ring slip out of his fingers, the small item clinking unceremoniously as it rolled away and out of sight.

Luigi no longer cared. This world meant nothing to him.

The next world… his world… It would truly be perfect. He could make everything right again.

Luigi took Dimentio’s hand, to which he was met with a maddened laugh.

“Ahahahaha! Excellent!”

Luigi was limp, allowing the smiling jester to lift him up to his feet.

“You made the right choice, Luigi.” Dimentio explained, chuckling darkly. “Once all worlds fall, they’ll be recreated in our perfect image, and we will have complete control over all. There will no longer be sadness or pain. You will feel truly invincible.”

Dimentio paused, his malicious smile widening as he stared down at his broken puppet, the brunette’s blue eyes dulled and sunken against his pale features.

“Ah,” Dimentio smiled, narrowing his eyes gleefully as he giggled. “But there’s just one little thing we need to take care of first… Come now.”

Dimentio turned, noticing Luigi’s sluggish hesitation. The jester guided him along, lifting a gloved finger and pointing toward the sun creeping over the horizon.

“Perfect timing, in fact.” He lifted a hand, turning his head. “See, I had mentioned the audience participation component, had I not? My show isn’t over just yet, Luigi…”

Dimentio laughed cruelly.

“Why, we’ve still yet to have our finale!”

                                               - - - - - - - - - -

There was a sturdy knock upon the front door, the sound briefly resounding off the walls of the aging home that two famed brothers had lived in for many years.

“Coming!”

Luigi barely reacted to the shout, his eyes lidded as he slowly glanced up. His hands trembled at his side, skin pale and clamping at the fabric of his pants anxiously as his body quivered. The front porch creaked under his weight as he stepped back slightly, his dull eyes lifting as the doorknob clicked.

“Who’s there-...?” 

Mario loudly gasped as he joyfully leapt forward, pulling Luigi into his arms. 

“Weegie!”

Luigi didn’t react.

“Weeg! It’s-a so good to see you, bro!” Mario examined his brother at arm’s length, smiling. “How are you feeling? Any better?”

Luigi didn’t respond, only nodding. He moved to step past Mario.

“You look a little better. But, if you aren’t, just lemme know.” Mario smiled warmly, noticing Luigi’s movements. He quickly straightened his shoulders, moving aside to let Luigi in. “Any news with Peasley?”

Luigi refused to answer.

“Bro? You okay?”

Luigi still didn’t talk, only nodding.

“If you say so… eheh, y-you’re-a kinda freaking me out, bro.” Mario nervously chuckled when Luigi still gave no reaction. He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to start a conversation. “I-I, uh, I tried to find out what happened to the Princess, but I still haven’t been able to figure much out… Did you?”

Luigi didn’t even face his brother now, only breathing as he looked away, as though he were staring intently at the wall.

”Luigi…?”

Mario slowly reached for his brother, moving to grip his shoulder and steady him.

”Weeg. Hey. Do you need to talk? I’m right here, don’t worry, I-“

As soon as Mario placed his hand on his younger brother’s shoulder, Luigi stiffened and spun around, grabbing onto Mario’s forearm. Mario fearfully stared at his brother, trying to slip out of his tight grip. He’d never seen Luigi acting so strange before.

“B-Bro? Hey, let go of me-”

Luigi’s grip was impossibly tight, digging into skin as he shoved his brother to the side, a light spark of static electricity coursing through Mario’s body as he was flung back into a nearby bookshelf. He hit the wall with a faint crack, the shelf nearly tumbling on top of him. Mario hastily moved out of the way, eyes wide as he breathed in heavy spurts. Feverishly, he glanced up at his younger brother, terrified.

“Luigi?!”

Luigi stood tall, huffing as he tried to gather air into his lungs. He glanced down, dull eyes unmoving as he stared at his elder brother. Mario shivered as he limped forward, trying to stand.

“Weeg, w-what in Grambi’s name has gotten into you?”

“Mario...” was all Luigi could choke out before his words shattered into fractured mumbles. “I... He…”

Mario tried to stand, grabbing onto Luigi’s arms and screaming for some sort of coherent response. “Luigi, what’s wrong with you?!”

Luigi grit his teeth, releasing a growl as he shoved Mario off of him and grabbed his arm, nearly snapping it out of place as he pushed him back down to the ground.

Mario groaned, squeezing his eyes in pain, trying to stand again. His limbs quivered as he tried to lift himself back up. Luigi simply watched his efforts, unmoving.

“Bro, help me… please…” Mario attempted. “L-Luigi…?”

“Ahahahahaha! What a fun reunion!”

Mario glanced up, horrified as all the fears he’d been trying to push away struck his heart at once. He gasped for air, a glare tightening on his face as he screamed, terror soon replaced with rage.

“Y-YOU!”

“Yes, yes. Me.” Dimentio jubilantly spoke, folding his hands as he landed in front of the struggling Mario. “The master of dimensions and pleaser of crowds! The magical and fantastical Diment-”

“You bastard!” Mario screamed as he interrupted Dimentio’s spiel. He heaved, trying to force himself back up to his feet. Traces of static and electricity pulsed at his limbs, forcing his efforts to be quite minimal. He caught Luigi’s gaze, his brother now standing behind Dimentio. “What have you done to him?!”

“Why, I’m just putting on a harmless show, hero.” Dimentio lazily moved his hand, smiling. “What’s so wrong in that? I did nothing to harm your brother.”

Dimentio laughed as Mario finally forced himself up, the hero screaming as he moved to punch Dimentio square in the face. But before the blow could land, Dimentio snapped his fingers and trapped him in a golden box, effortlessly stopping any of Mario’s efforts.

”Suppose you’re just as weak as your brother, then, hm?” Dimentio chuckled as he floated backward, circling around Luigi. “Guess it runs in the family!”

“GET AWAY FROM MY BROTHER!” Mario shrieked, pounding against the glass of the yellow box. “LEAVE HIM ALONE!”

“Ah, Mario, but the dear man in green gave himself up willingly to work at my side. He wants to end all worlds with me.”

”YOU’RE LYING!” Mario shoved his weight against the box repeatedly, crying out. “LUIGI!”

“Isn’t it sad? He didn’t tell you anything. Nothing, absolutely nothing, about how much pain he was in. He was suffering so much, and you didn’t so much as bat an eye. He tried to end his own life, and you had no idea. Some brotherly bond you had, hm~?” Dimentio cackled madly, raising his fingers, poised to snap at any moment. “I’m sure you’d much prefer it if I just put you out of your misery.”

Mario paused, shrinking back momentarily. He glanced up, staring at Luigi. A stab of guilt drove through his chest, tears slipping down his cheeks as his expression relaxed.

”Luigi…” He inaudibly mouthed before raising his voice, tears forming in his eyes. His voice trailed off. He’d never felt so ashamed. “I’m s-sorry... I’m so sorry… I should’ve known better…!”

Luigi turned away.

”Bro, you have to snap out of it! He isn’t going to help, he just wants to hurt you! He’s going to kill everyone!”

“That IS the point, Mario. Luigi is well aware. Don’t act like your brother’s so dense, dear hero in red.” Dimentio chided, lifting a finger. “We’re going to construct a perfect world. Just like I originally wanted. It’s ALL I’ve ever wanted.”

His laughter rang out through the Mario brothers’ old home like poison, the malice of months spent suffering and imprisoned seeping through his words and into the floorboards and creaking walls, binding himself into their abode.

“Besides, Mario… I’m afraid there’s no chance I’ll be granting you mercy today. Why…”

Dimentio smiled.

“YOU are our finale, after all!”

He laughed as he finally snapped his fingers, an ear-shatteringly loud BANG ringing out through the small house. Luigi shut his eyes instinctively to shield himself from any debris, lifting his arms to hide his face. He shivered slightly as he slowly realized Mario was still lying there, just on the ground, his chest rising and falling.

Dimentio hadn’t meant to end his game. His explosion had only been just powerful enough to briefly knock Mario unconscious.

It was just enough time to prepare for the final act.

                                               - - - - - - - - - -

Mario awoke groggily, eyes flickering as he came to. He was still lying on the ground, limbs heavy as he tried to roll over or stand, finding himself unable to.

“Had a nice rest, did you, hero?”

Mario trembled in anger as he glanced up, meeting eyes with the mismatched gaze of the malevolent jester whom he’d had brief nightmares about during his forced slumber. He seemed preoccupied.

“It’s always nice when the participant has plenty of energy for the show.” Dimentio explained gently as he started working on something just outside of Mario’s view. “Wouldn’t want it to be boring, now, would we?”

A thick scent enveloped the air surrounding the two, the foul-smelling odor forcing Mario to scrunch up his nose.

“Where… is… m-my brother?” Mario coughed up thin strands of saliva mixed with blood, trying to force himself into standing. All attempts left him exhausted, lying on the ground and sputtering for air.

“Elsewhere. He’s preparing for his cue.” Dimentio smiled. “In the meantime, I wanted to show you something while we were waiting.”

Mario’s hazy vision left him unable to comprehend where Dimentio was moving, his gaze naturally falling toward the ground as he attempted studying his breathing.

A blur of gold, with accents of sapphire and crimson, was placed in front of his eyes. His mind stirred.

“I wanted to keep it as a personal trophy. A prize, if you will. But… I think you’d appreciate it more.”

Mario’s chest tightened, tears slipping down his cheeks.

It was the Princess’s crown.

“P-Princess…” Mario whispered in disbelief, almost as though this was all some cruel trick. “No… no, she… My Princess…”

“She lasted long. I’ll grant you that knowledge. Ah, if we had time, I’d be willing to show you her whole demise. It was quite a fun part of our show…” Dimentio grinned, noticing Mario’s complexion, paling horrifically as he came to terms with what had happened and who he had failed. “And I see you’re breaking apart too, like a vase knocked over by a careless toddler on a summer day.”

“Peach…”

Dimentio turned with a hum and smile, his yellow eye flickering as he tilted his head. Bells jingled, the jester standing tall to attention.

“I believe it’s time, then. We mustn’t waste a single second more.” Dimentio faced Mario. “Oh, do forgive me, dear red hero. I’m just so eager to finally have my perfect world~!”

Dimentio lifted his hands, sparks pulsing at his fingertips.

“It’s time for our grand finale! Luigi...! That’s your cue!”

Mario glanced up, mortified as he watched his younger brother approach. Luigi started forward mechanically, the light sound of liquid trickling following his steps. Mario’s eyes widened, quickly realizing Luigi was pouring a trail of gasoline at his side.

“L-Luigi… n-no…” Mario whispered in protest. All he could think about was how he had failed his brother. He didn’t protect him from Dimentio and all the tricks he had up his sleeve. He didn’t protect the Princess. He didn’t protect anyone.

He wasn’t a hero at all.

“All it’ll take is a single spark, Luigi.” 

Dimentio’s taunting voice quickly brought Mario out of his thoughts.

Luigi fiddled with his hands, breathing heavily. Every part of him was screaming, begging him to come to his senses and stop this madness.  They told him Dimentio was lying, and he would never let him recreate the world he wanted. They warned him to just grab his brother and run far away. 

But, the piece of the Chaos Heart that stirred deep within his chest had the loudest voice of all.

Finish the show.

“Every show must come to an end, Luigi.” Dimentio reminded. “Prove yourself.”

Mario’s cries and pleads went unheard as Luigi’s mind numbed, thoughts growing unbearable. He crouched down, leaning over to the growing pile of gasoline he’d created at his feet.

A single electrical spark appeared at his fingertips, briefly alighting his palms and trembling fingers. The tiny sparks hit the gasoline lining the ground, steadily growing quick flames, each sprouting from the spot he’d touched.

“Our grand finale is finally set into motion!” Dimentio laughed, eyes narrowing excitedly as he clapped his hands together. “What a magnificent light show!”

Luigi felt lost, feeling the need to remain, to sit by his brother’s side and perish in the crackling flames beside him. The fire moved fast, consuming and engulfing each of the wooden boards of the house. Impossibly fast.

Mario screamed in terror, trying to get up and run away, but to no avail. He glanced up at his brother, sobbing his name for some hope, some chance he might still be there.

Luigi’s heart stiffened. He moved, reaching out to his brother. 

But, Dimentio lunged forward and grabbed Luigi by the wrist. He snapped his fingers and the two teleported outside of the house to safety, watching as the old house was quickly engulfed by the growing flames. 

Dimentio dropped Luigi to the ground carelessly, chuckling.

“Our show started off so small! And now, we end with such a huge finale! What a performance!”

They watched from a safe distance.

Dimentio cackled in delight as smoke began to pour from the windows and cracks in the wood along the sides of the wooden house, once occupied by the famous Mario brothers. They’d resided in that house for years, having lived out many of their years together, promising each other plentiful and exciting futures.

It was all squandered as the house burst into flame. The flames danced excitedly, growing larger in accompaniment to the sounds of screaming from within.

Luigi felt the need to cry, but no tears emerged from his eyes. He exhaled shakily, staring at Dimentio, who was laughing madly as the light of the fiery blaze reflected upon the shiny porcelain of his mask.

Sparks burst and exploded along the bright destruction presented before him, wooden boards creaking and cracking. 

And through all the crackling fire and bustling embers, Luigi could hear the horrified and pained screams of his burning brother.

Luigi whimpered and hid his gaze, burying his eyes in his dirtied gloves, falling to his knees on the dirt ground.

“What a lovely display. A show-stopper, indeed...” Dimentio mused, delighted with the horrific display as he surveyed the damage. 

The roaring and rumbling flames claimed the aging house, Mario’s screams having now ceased.

Luigi felt his chest tighten.

So many were lost now. His friends. His love. His family…!

It was all his fault. It was all his fault. It was all his fault.

Two Toad siblings who had a bond unbreakable compared to his own. An old friend whom had only wanted to see him happy. A friend who had once been his enemy. A young royal who had only wanted to help. His closest friends who had been with him for years, promising his safety.

His mentor. His husband. His brother.

He’d pushed all of them away.

It was his fault they were gone.

All gone. 

His mind and heart pulsed. He nearly toppled over, heaving for air. He couldn’t so much as see anymore.

He passed out.

                                                - - - - - - - - - -

“Luigi...?”

He shifted, awakening to a bright light. Everything was warm. Comfortingly warm. It felt safe.

“Luigi, wake up now...”

Luigi’s eyes slowly opened, a brilliant whiteness in front of his gaze. He trembled and inhaled, trying to see past his misty vision.

“What…?”

“The show isn’t quite over yet… Your role isn’t finished.”

Luigi bolted upright, Dimentio’s masked smile greeting him as he finally adjusted to the brightness around him. He didn’t quite know where he was, but it felt familiar.

Dimentio lifted Luigi to his feet. He wobbled slightly as he stood in the blankness surrounding him.

“Now, now, Luigi... It’s time for our next show. This performance isn’t stopping so soon. It’s a show that will continue on throughout centuries. And we’ll be the ones onstage, orchestrating it all…”

Dimentio lifted Luigi’s chin, pulling him forward to walk through the nothingness.

“Come now, man in green. It’s time to take our bow. And then, we can work on finally creating our perfect world.”

Dimentio turned around as Luigi finally looked up. 

And Luigi was smiling, his grin matching Dimentio’s own twisted expression.

Everything would be okay. Luigi knew he would make things perfect, for everyone. Everything would be okay.

And though sorrow and tragedy followed their footsteps as they traversed through nothing, they maintained one thought as they continued onward.

“The show must go on.”

                                     - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

A/N: And thus, the curtain of our story comes to a close... For all those who read along with this little tale, I do so hope you enjoyed, and I hope you had as much fun reading it as I did writing it. Thanks for sticking around!

[thesparkjournal]

THE CONTRADICTIONS OF CAPITALISM AND TECHNOCRATIC UTOPIAN FUTUROLOGY

A CRITIQUE OF FULLY AUTOMATED LUXURY COMMUNISM Review by Roger Perkins

[Author Aaron Bastani, formerly known as Aaron Peters, one-time contributor to the UCL Conservative Society newspaper and researcher for the Blairite thinktank Demos]

There is no single contradiction or combination of contradictions that will make capitalism miraculously dissolve away into a communist nirvana. Capitalism in severe crisis does not collapse or fade away. Capitalism always fights back, searching for out-of-the-box configurations that give it new life. Therefore, capitalism must be consciously brought down and replaced with a new consciously-built socialist society. This imperative, the most important in human history, must begin, if not yesterday, then certainly today.

Contemporary capitalism is split by serious contradictions and seismic fault cleavages under increasing stress. The basic contradiction of capitalism is the contradiction between the social character of production and the private capitalist form of appropriation. In Anti-Dühring, Engels stated:

The contradiction between socialised production and capitalistic appropriation manifested itself as the antagonism of proletariat and bourgeoisie. (Karl Marx Frederick Engels Collected Works, Volume 25, page 256)

The resulting class struggle together with numerous economic crises and cycles have proven in the short and medium term to be features of a more or less “stable” capitalism and do not by themselves threaten the immediate collapse of capitalism.

However from time to time Marxists, non-Marxists, and even a few capitalists have sought out the fatal contradiction of capitalism. For example, it was postulated that the “Law of the Tendency of the Rate of Profit to Fall” would cause capitalism to grind to a halt. Investment would end if profit was no longer likely. But a tendency for the rate of profit to fall is not the same as an iron-clad law mandating the rate of profit to always fall. Counter tendencies, in theory and observed in practice, can bring about a rise. This was the view of Marx. Although Marx asserted that the law of the tendency of the rate of profit to fall was “the most important law of modern political economy” and “the most essential one for comprehending the most complex relationships ….” (Collected Works, Volume 29, page 133; Penguin Grundrisse, page 748) he nevertheless also stated that this law “operates only as a tendency. And it is only under certain circumstances and only after long periods that its effects become strikingly pronounced”. (Capital, Volume III, Collected Works, Volume 37, page 237; Penguin translation of Capital, Volume III, page 346) Only until capitalism is finally declared dead on a world-wide basis and the inevitable socialist forensic autopsy is performed will one be able to determine the extent a “falling rate of profit” played in its demise.

A more recent attempt to single out a possible fatal contradiction of capitalism occurred in conjunction with the so-called “greening of Marxism”. James O’Connor, founding editor of the eco-socialist journal Capitalism, Socialism, Nature, put forth the view that the “contradiction between the forces and relations of production” resulting in overproduction, crises, etc. is now in the process of being overshadowed by a Great Second Contradiction of Capitalism. Expandor-die capitalism is incapable of greening itself or reversing its expansion imperative to become a stable, steady-state capitalism. The dynamic logic of capitalism forces it to foul its own nest with run-away civilization imperiling climate change, environment destroying pollution and depletion of necessary resources. In addition to O’Connor’s “forces of production and relations of production” the conditions of production have now allegedly risen to prominence and will severely, even fatally, log-jam capitalism to a halt. Capitalist think-tanks are busy in search of ways to overcome this Great Second Contradiction of Capitalism while staying within the boundaries of a still recognizable capitalism and not straying over the border into obvious socialist solutions. So far they have not been anywhere near successful.

While O’Connor’s Great Second Contradiction of Capitalism is said to be located in production (conditions of production), the contradictions engendered by ever-increasing automation are observed in the sphere of consumption. At first automation was said to create as many new jobs as it displaced. But as the twentieth century progressed it became clear that the new jobs were mostly low-paid, precarious jobs for those who were able to obtain them and long-term, debilitating unemployment for those who did not. The working class, to an even greater extent than before, no longer had the purchasing power to buy what it produced – thus an under-consumption crisis.

This can be illustrated by the famous legendary encounter between Walter Reuther, head of the United Autoworkers of America (UAW) and a Ford Motor Company executive who had invited Reuther to tour the just-opened automated Ford plant in Cleveland. Reuther was confronted with acres of automated machines and robots. The usual assembly line of workers was nowhere to be seen. Instead a few thinly-dispersed technicians stood before a panel of green and yellow flashing lights making occasional adjustments to the production process. The Ford executive, with a gloating and gleeful grin turned to Reuther and confidently declared, “These robots, of course, receive no wages, zero pensions, never go on strike and they don’t pay any union dues to you!” Reuther immediately replied: “And neither do they buy any of your cars.”

The natural tendency of capitalism to cause a crisis of overproduction with the resulting temporary layoff of workers is said to have been morphed into the permanent massive disappearance of jobs accompanied by massive underconsuption.

In addition to the tendency of the rate of profit to fall, the destruction of the conditions of production and everincreasing automation there are many other contradictions of capitalism. For those who want to explore further, the following books may be of use:

Seventeen Contradictions of Capitalism, David Harvey, 2014

Breakdown of Capitalism: History of the Idea in Western Marxism 1883-1983, F. R. Hansen 1985, reprinted 2017

Capitalism’s Contradictions: Studies of Economic Thought Before and After Marx, Henryk Grossman, reprinted 2017

Contemporary Capitalism: New Developments and Contradictions, N. Inozemtsev, Progress Publishers: Moscow, 1974

The Scientific and Technological Revolution and the Contradictions of Capitalism, N. Inozemtsev, Progress Publishers: Moscow, 1982 

With the arrival of the twenty-first century, Aaron Bastani, the author of Fully Automated Luxury Communism: A Manifesto, believes a new third qualitative leap in human history is about to take place. The first qualitative leap was the invention of agriculture, which was vastly superior to hunting and gathering. The second was the Industrial Revolution, particularly the invention of the steam engine which accelerated capitalism and sped it down the tracks to eventual world dominance. And three, the epoch we are now entering, one of boundless abundance made possible by hyper-fast quantum computers exhibiting high levels of artificial intelligence (AI).

In Bastani’s mind automation itself will undergo a capitalism-ending giant qualitative leap which, while ironically solving most of the existing contradictions of capitalism, will nevertheless become the fatal contradiction of capitalism. This new artificial intelligence (AI) society will result in the vanishing of the working class because living labour power will no longer be hired. The working class has been digitized into computer zeros and ones. Variable capital has now become constant capital – or so Bastani claims.

The author states that all of our material needs will be produced very, very cheaply – almost for free – by gigantic computer-commanded 3-D printers. Bastani operates under the slogan “Information Wants to be Free” and gives the example of music now being free (but perhaps illegal) on the internet after having been digitized. This AI/knowledge society will be incompatible with a capitalist market economy, thus negating capitalism as well. But, according to the logic of Bastani, capitalists without a market would find themselves disoriented and confused. Under the infinite weight of AI technology they would not resist their inevitable demise. Therefore there would be no need to consciously overthrow capitalism and replace it with socialism. Capitalism just becomes irrelevant and sublimates away like dry ice. Such a view has more in common with 1950s social democracy than Marxism – an extreme version of “peaceful transition”.

And all of this will happen, not in some indefinite distant future when lowerstage socialism has evolved into communism, but only a few short decades away from now– maybe as little as only two decades away (around the 2040s). If only these fantastic predictions of Bastani were true! Communism is only twenty years or so hence and no revolution or socialist transition period necessary!

[Bourgeois futurologist pulp dates gracelessly in capitalist society: the above book chokes up the dollar bins of the English-speaking world]

Unfortunately, the author has combined some of the worst features of early utopian socialism with the speculative endeavors of modern bourgeois futurologists. Marx was hesitant to describe the future in more than a sketchy outline and certainly not in the fleshed-out and extensive details of the utopian socialists. Bastani on the other hand has no such hesitation. Meat would be grown in vats of nutrient fluid. There would be no need to cut down the oxygen-generating Amazon rain forest to create grazing land for methane-emitting cattle which would then get slaughtered for McDonald’s burgers. Declining scarce resources on Earth? Just get them from the moon or other planets – or, better yet, lasso a mineral-rich asteroid and tow it into a near-earth orbit. The author fails to mention any breakthrough regarding nuclear fusion on Earth, but why bother, we already have the sun. The new AI society will tap this free energy. No need to burn fossil fuels and Voila!, the climate change crisis solved.

The author provides technological solutions to most of the problems facing capitalism today, including health care (genetic modification and AI designed super drugs) and growing poverty (food, clothing and shelter – almost free due to AI mass production).

But the predictions of futurologists have often proven quite wrong. For instance, sixty years ago it was believed that by the year 2000 we would all be driving flying cars. It didn’t happen. This is most fortunate because automobiles raining down from the sky after an aerial freeway pile-up would be a very dangerous hazard indeed. A new category of statistical information would be necessary – death by falling vehicle.

Bastani doesn’t seriously consider that predictions are just that – predictions. He projects observed trends into the future as certainties, even having them manifest themselves almost within the same decade – a very unlikely occurrence. Even if one trend came true as predicted, he ignores the fact that a collectivity of many and different, interacting trends complicates accurate forecasting to an extreme degree. His thinking is mechanical, linear and not dialectical. He does not comprehend that all trends are subject to various contingencies, unintended consequences and even collateral damage to other trends, thereby altering the development path projected. Nevertheless Bastani plunges into the future with a fully elaborated utopian scheme – Fully Automated Luxury Communism (FALC). The author utilizes cherry-picked quotes from Marx throughout his book but is, in reality, much more a utopian technocratic futurologist than a clear-headed Marxist.

Who then is Aaron Bastani?

Bastani, UK-born and with a Ph.D. in political communication from the University of London, started his political journey with a family-inherited Tory outlook. He later opted for the Green Party, read Marx, continued his journey to the left and has now parked himself in the Labour Party recently led by Jeremy Corbyn. Along the way he co-founded Novara Media – a British left-leaning alternative media platform. However, Bastani’s media appearances are not confined to Novara and other fringe outlets. He is often invited as a guest on establishment media as well – BBC, Sky News, etc., where he sometimes dons a black T-shirt emblazoned with the message: “I am a Communist”. But is Bastani , his subjective beliefs notwithstanding, really a communist? Only by expanding the meaning of the word to its outermost fuzzy boundary, can Bastani be hesitantly identified as some sort of technocratic utopian “communist”. His views are not at all compatible with those of Marx, Lenin or historical materialists of today. The author’s political journey has definitely not arrived at the place called “Marxism”.

For Marxists, class is of the essence. For Bastani, class forces play little role. It is the forces of AI technology that have taken over. The working class (a prominent feature of Marxism) seems to have “died and gone to heaven”. It has been replaced by zeroes and ones and can no longer be exploited by capital because it has been absorbed into capital itself. As for the bourgeoisie, its class power has been sucked into the black hole of ever- increasing artificial intelligence. There is, however, a technocratic, vanguard-elite stratum of the population in his vision of society, but nowhere does the author state outright that it has become a new ruling class. What we are left with is some sort of amorphous multitude where class concepts are no longer applicable.

The political expression of this multitudinous blob of humanity Bastani calls “luxury populism”. Because Bastani believes the soon-to-arrive FALC is so overwhelming and inevitable, he doesn’t envision much political self-activity from the declassed and depoliticized masses. Although the author believes “the party form … makes increasingly little sense”(p.194), he flip-flops and advocates a FALC-led electoral party not too dissimilar from the Labour Party of 2019 – one of the very few instances where he recommends any sort of political action whatsoever. This party is necessary because the not-to-be trusted masses of Luxury Populism could go astray if not guided by the wisdom of committed FALC-ites. This party of “communist” technocracy would organize perfunctory “demonstration elections” because “people do not care about politics" and “it is only around elections” that the multitude is “open to new possibilities.”(p.195).The author is oblivious to other events that cause people to “care about politics” and become “open to new possibilities” – e.g. general strikes, wars, revolutionary situations, etc.

Apparently humankind’s path from capitalism to communism doesn’t include general strikes or revolutionary situations.

As for the possibility of war – imperialist nuclear war that could kill billions and set humanity back many thousands of years – Bastani obviously sees little danger because he fails to discuss this horrible possibility. If so, he is walking towards his “inevitable” utopian future with his eyes closed.

Though ignoring the working class in general the author does issue advice to present-day trade unions. To resist austerity is okay, but traditional trade union demands against capital should be shunted aside. Instead, unions should reorient themselves and attack the necessity of work itself. They should force corporations to introduce AI as soon as possible and as deeply as possible!

There is an anti-communist white thread running throughout the book. The only type of communism Bastani approves of is the “communism” of his own concoction –FALC. The author claims FALC differs from traditional communism in that it “recognizes the centrality of human rights, most importantly the right of personal happiness”(page 193). He gives no examples whatsoever to support this slanderous assertion. In answer to this anti-communist slop, let it be stated that communists are, of course, strongly in support of personal happiness and hold that it is achieved not in individual isolation but in the practice of a collective /individual dialectic. Human rights must be viewed not in the abstract in a form devoid of class content. They must be viewed concretely and the following question asked: “human rights” for whom and for what purpose? A capitalist whose bank has been nationalized would surely claim that the human right of ownership has been violated. That capitalist would also probably claim that the right to a job, healthcare and education are not human rights. And then there is “human rights imperialism”. Let us hope that Bastani has not fallen victim to such lying hypocrisy. But his “new communism” must, by any means necessary, be strongly marked off from the “old” communism.

Although Bastani does not extensively attack Lenin and the Russian Revolution, he does make his views known. He identifies with the Mensheviks who claimed that Russia was too technologically backward to even consider setting out on the path towards socialism/communism. The fact that he often quotes Marx but not Lenin is telling in itself (Marx good; Lenin bad). He describes the Bolshevik Revolution as an “anti-liberal coup” (p. 193). He condemns Leninism by falsely claiming that it “views production, and by extension working class subjectivity, as critical while ignoring a world whose ideas and technologies are hugely changed” (p. 196). But it is Bastani himself who views technological AI production as critical while failing to grasp that workingclass subjectivity (consciousness) is indeed one of the most important necessities in the defeat of capitalism.

Bastani instinctively knows that Communists would be highly critical of his smooth and speedy road to Fully Automated Luxury Communism – therefore Marxism Leninism must be run-over and left behind as road-kill.

The Scottish poet Robert Burns famously said that the best laid plans of mice and men go oft awry. No doubt reality itself will cause Bastani’s grandiose FALC to crash to earth. Will the author then concoct another and different utopian blueprint or will he become a disillusioned and cynical Labourite and maybe concentrate more on his business ventures? Or will he continue his political hopscotch and jump to the left and finally become a clear-headed Marxist (and Leninist)? It’s unlikely, but let us hope so. Or will he instead jump to the right and follow in the footsteps of former Labour Member of Parliament Sir Oswald Mosley, who had been considered a potential Labour Prime Minister? Mosley, however, defected from the Labour Party and founded the British Union of Fascists in 1932. Mosley’s mentor, Benito Mussolini, was also once a “socialist”. This reviewer will make no speculative predictions concerning the exact arrangement of Bastani’s future political kaleidoscope. It is his present political orientation as expressed in FALC that should cause concern.

The 1989 Hollywood hit movie Field of Dreams gave us the classic dialogue quote: “If you build it they will come.” In contrast Bastani’s 2019 science- fiction Field of Dreams tells us: Don’t build it and communism will come.

By relying on the almost infinite power of a qualitatively new artificial intelligence the author ignores the revolutionary practice of oppressed classes. No need to build any foundational construction that prepares for a revolutionary situation. Technological determinism has run amok. Just let the fatal contradiction of capitalism do its thing. The author leaves us with the impression that even if all anti-capitalists, revolutionaries and militant workers were to be placed in the deep sleep of suspended animation until after 2040 they would wake-up to Fully Automated Luxury Communism. Revolutionary cadres and a revolutionary organization not needed. This book is worse than seriously flawed; it is even dangerous, because it leaves us with the impression that passivity is a viable option.

Communists are not Luddite opponents of automation and AI. Many of the predictions of FALC will eventually become true although on a varied and much-altered time scale and under very different conditions than those envisioned by the author. But, however embodied or personified AI becomes, it cannot by itself function as avatar or proxy agent for qualitative change from one socioeconomic system (capitalism) to another (socialism/ communism). That role still belongs to a new and always changing working class. For Bastani the working class is not an agent of social change – only flotsam in the AI tsunami. For revolutionaries the working class, its party and allies must be recognized as the decisive core of the coming revolutionary process. The publishing of Bastani’s Fully Automated Luxury Communism will not get him rewarded with rapture to AI heaven. Instead, without decisive working-class action he will find himself engulfed in the flames of a capitalist hell-on-earth.

In conclusion: The declassed technological delusions and utopian visions of Aaron Bastani are dangerously wrong. The publisher, Verso Books, has given us a lemon, the lemonade of which is useful only to those who undertake grand “thought experiments” or seek truth via the maze of error.

Furthermore, speculations about the fatal contradiction of capitalism must be subordinated to the organization of a consciously socialist working class whose party is ready for and knowledgeable regarding what Lenin called a “revolutionary situation”. There is no single contradiction or combination of contradictions that will make capitalism miraculously dissolve away into a communist nirvana. Capitalism in severe crisis does not collapse or fade away. Capitalism always fights back, searching for out-of-the-box configurations that give it new life. Therefore, capitalism must be consciously brought down and replaced with a new consciously-built socialist society. This imperative, the most important in human history, must begin, if not yesterday, then certainly today.

[biot08]

By Popular Request, Adagio’s Will Fragment, related to the Gaming Guardians roleplay (now long over)

I, Adagio Redwinter, being of sound mind and body, do declare this to be my last Will and Testament.

On the Execution of my Will

Over the course of my operational existence, I have managed to accumulate a great many material things of varying levels of worth. This, I suppose, is due to my natural curiosity leading to me find the new and interesting, coupled with a lifespan that is unnaturally long for many sapient species. As well, various endeavors throughout my existence have lead me to make investments and to head several ventures, with varying levels of success and prosperity. It is now, at the end of my operational lifetime, that I intend to try and give some of what I have received back.

To see to the immense task of administering my final accounts, and to assure that my final wishes are carried out properly, I authorize my executor, Zeta Aquilae, to use those funds and materials necessary to establish the Synapse Intercorporation. The Intercorporation's internal structure and method of operation will be determined by her best judgement. The Synapse Intercorporation shall oversee the execution of my last wishes as described in this will.

It is worth noting that parts of this will are hidden from public view. This is not so much to hide anything of true note, but rather to allow some of my instructions to have a certain reactive quality to them, such that if certain conditions are met, other instructions may be carried out that may not be otherwise. My executor is aware of all of the hidden portions of my will, as well as the encryption keys necessary to view them.

I have been working on this will continuously for several years, always ensuring that it accurately reflects my wishes in the event of my demise, whether accidental or not. My understanding is that many sapients who have a tradition of finality similar to a will tend to use them as instruments of encouragement and revenge. The idea of continuing to influence the multiverse at large after my existence has ceased is one that amused me. If I have misunderstood the purpose of a will, I hope others shall view my attempt here in a reasonable light. I would caution those who read this to be aware that I am not human, and indeed, I believe I am the first of my kind to have a will of any sort. I would also note that, as my operational lifetime was originally expected to be infinite, and indeed has stretched on for a great many centuries, I do tend to take a very long view on matters. In addition to ensuring my own matters are tied up neatly, and designating specific recipients for parts of my estate, I have also made several bequests that I hope will benefit all sapients everywhere, both Primarian and System born.

I have always sought knowledge, and much of my life has been dedicated to seeking truth. I have not yet found it, but I hope that, through this will, I may lead others to find it, both for themselves and for others. I would implore all those who read this will to look to one another, and, if failing in all other tasks, that they may reach the lofty goal of one day ... understanding.

To Zeta Aquilae, who sought to understand me, and who was with me on my many travels, I leave the bulk of my estate, save for those things otherwise covered by this will. I name Zeta Aquilae the executor of my estate and the head of the Synapse Intercorporation, in which capacity she will oversee the execution of this will in accordance with my wishes.

To Nightdark, my original second, and so loyal to me all these years, I give you back your life and your freedom. I only wish I could give you your old life back, Megan. I hope that your memories will suffice.

In the memory of a woman who I was often at odds with, and yet who I still feel a deep kinship with, I find myself able to do little. I now realize the trick you played during our last game, old friend, and I hope that in the afterlife I am able to give you the match you deserve. In her memory, I present a red queen chess piece to the orange queen who now rules the forest in Gamer's End. May there forever be peace and understanding in the world she gave her life to birth.

To Aria Winters, I leave my memoirs, and my core, should it still remain, to be disposed of however she sees fit. I hope your path in life will be less troubled than mine was.

To Kale, I leave the Defender, and the legacy that goes along with it. The history of this vessel is long and deep, young Kale. You should ask Majir about it. I also give him my spaces onboard Prometheus Space Station, and my apartment in Gamer's End, as well as the contents of my bank account on Prometheus Station, and the key to my safety deposit box for the same. Remember that while the mind makes the man, the tools allow it to act better on its environment.

To Sage, I leave the Colossus, a five kilometer wide space ship that was carved out of an asteroid in BESM-SF 87-5-29. I am afraid, my dear, that this is the last rock I am able to give to you.

To the first two hundred people who show up, I leave a can of Sprite from my storage unit onboard Prometheus. One of the cans contains an actual sprite, but it got mixed in with the thoroughly mundane cans, and I never did get around to determining which can it was. I figure this is both a good way to make sure the sprite gets some use, as well as getting rid of a fair bit of unused stock. (( Note: If you want the special can, just hop on IRC and get ahold of me before the end of March. ))

To whoever determines the identity and composition of those figures who are in charge of the Gaming Guardians to the satisfaction of the Synapes Intercorporation, I leave the monetary equivalent of 20,000 XP. Transparency in operations might go a long way toward building good will, my friends. As well as being profitable.

To whoever finds Wargolem, I leave 1 million XP or medical care for the remainder of their natural life, whichever seems most appropriate.

To the first party to determine what 'Velvet Fist' is, I leave behind 10000XP.

To the person who finds the original 'Wirrit', I leave 6000 XP, so long as they deliver a copy of this will to her.

To the original 'Wirrit', I leave my yo-yo. Spend some time with it and consider that the nature of the multiverse is not as you thought it was.

To Majir Sobaan, I leave co-ordinates to a little known Fallout system. Do not be startled by what you find there. Hopefully it will explain much.

To Solita Ariennye, I leave my Seattle, Washington condo, a motorcycle, and the assets contained in the safety deposit box to which she will be given a key. While it is not the world you know and love, I hope you will enjoy Seattle, and your second retirement. I imagine you've learned your lesson.

Once a year, a jet black rose, preserved by freezing, shall be delivered to Solita Ariennye's condo in Seattle, for as long as she lives there, as a reminder that some loyalties have too high a price for us all.

Because we who occupy jaunt space are not always so careful as we should be, the Synapse Intercorporation is directed to establish the System Defenders. The goals of the Defenders are as follows: to monitor potential abuses of jaunt space and its denizens; to protect the rights of denizens of jaunt space; to establish a set of parameters that will facility a working relationship between those from the Systems and those from the Primary; to create a sanctuary in Jaunt space for beings in search of a safe retreat; and to patrol Jaunt space in such a way as to ensure that junk and debris accidentally or otherwise left in Jaunt is cleaned up in such a way as to prevent any interference with normal system development. Since many of these functions are already provided somewhat by Gamer's End and Prometheus, I use my last act as an owner of a Captain's Seat to propose that the systems already in place be diverted to form a better, more unified front for members of the Systems.

To any who find a vessel looking like BeRT ( photo attached ), or its Pilot unit, I authorize the payment of 5000 XP for its finding, and 15000 XP for its destruction. The possibility of its existence could mean a dark time for us all.

To the first fifty so-called 'voidkers' who show up to any branch of the Synapse Intercorporation, I grant a token of my esteem. The terrible events that have occurred in the voided Shadowrun system darken all our lives, and I hope to foster understanding between those who were touched by it and the rest of the multisystems at large as we move forward.

For research into jaunt phenomena considered dangerous, such as Jaunt storms and void patches, I leave four million XP, to be distributed by the Synapse Intercorporation.

To Nightengale Nightforest, whose voice is the purest I have ever heard, and moved me nearly to emotion, I know from our conversations that you have no further need for wealth. So I leave 3 million XP to be donated in your name to the charity of your choice.

I leave one hundred thousand XP to fund an expedition to Jaunt system FC-F 00-13-225.

I leave five thousand XP to fund the summoning of a spirit capable of traversing jaunt and casting a permanent Sex Change spell on the Shadowrunner known as 'Suit'. The spell will need to be of sufficient power that he will require external assistance in dispelling or reversing it. While I do not think it will change his outlook in life at all, the change in perspective for him may be educational, and if not that, at least entertaining. If some other method of bringing about the same end effect can be established, so much the better.

To the person who successfully finds what is behind door 13-B in the main building of the Church of True Harmony, I give 10000 XP upon its revelation to an authority of either the Guardians, the Defenders, or the Synapse Intercorporation.

[mastrechef]

I was getting frustrated with my lack of progress on my other writing projects and was apparently in a Naruto mood. I’m still working on it and just posting a small bit here. This was purely for fun and, while vague on the details, does not hold to the canon, because frankly it’s ridiculous and confusing. Just looking at all the uncertainties, discrepancies, and retcons in the timeline gave me a headache, so I opted to ignore a lot of it. Plus the whole premise behind this was to deviate from canon anyway.

Written in achronological snippets. The italicized phrases are song lyrics, so not mine.

Show no mercy, let the world see we're invincible

Show them nothing is beyond our control

Humans were selfish creatures. They took and took until there was nothing left. And they felt entitled to it. To take what they wanted and damn the consequences. Like that vile sense of absolute superiority made it alright for them to treat the world like their personal playground and all other non-human entities as fuel for their ravenous greed. Like humans were the be-all end-all of intelligent life and therefore allowed to dictate the rules. Even among their own kind the pattern was apparent. The strong were in the right and given free reign while the weak were nothing but fodder. They waged war carelessly and scrabbled for every scrap of power they could get their grubby hands on, perpetuating an endless cycle of hatred, pain, and death.

Of course, there were rare exceptions. Exceedingly rare exceptions, to the point of almost complete non-existence. And it just so happened that Uzumaki Naruto was one of them.

Kurama bared his fangs in a ferocious grin promising extreme prejudice to any who stood in his way. The humans had forgotten that there was always a bigger fish in the sea, a more terrifying predator hunting in the shadows. Graciously, Kurama volunteered to teach them a lesson and remind them of their folly. His feet pounded the ground with earth shattering force while his nine tails lashed the air. Anyone who dared to try laying a finger on Naruto would be crushed mercilessly.

...

And all that I regret

I have before, I will again

Kakashi jolted into awareness, though he didn’t outwardly show it, his body relaxed and his breathing slow and measured. Immediately, he was on his guard. Something was wrong. More than a few somethings even. The first thing he registered was the lack of the usual chakra drain from his sharingan. And yet, he could still feel it there, waiting to be activated. How was that possible? He’d never been able to control the activation of his single sharingan. What was going on? What had he been doing and where was he now? He couldn’t remember. His memories were a scrambled mess, another impossibility given the sharingan’s perfect recall. 

He mentally shoved the confusion to the side. Right now, determining his current situation was the most important. Sorting his head out would have to come later. Kakashi turned his focus outward to glean any clues. He tensed minutely as he finally took notice of three others in the vicinity, berating himself for his carelessness. He was really off his game. By the sounds of their breathing, two were awake while the third kept watch. His breath caught when he got a whiff of a familiar scent.

Minato-sensei.

...

It takes an inner dark to rekindle the fire burning in you

Ignite the fire within you

Sunlight filtered through the thick canopy of leaves, flickering with the wind and dappling the ground in little starbursts of light. It was this that woke Naruto. He groaned as all the aches in his body made themselves known. It felt like he’d been trampled by a herd of bijū and had the collective memories of hundreds of clones slam into his brain simultaneously. Trying to sit up was apparently a bad idea, only causing the pain to flare up stronger. He allowed himself to flop gingerly back to the ground.

“It’s fine, I didn’t want to get up anyway,'' he grumbled to himself. He was absolutely beat and would be quite content to sleep for the next fourteen hours straight. Racking his brain for a reason as to why he was in such a state, he came up blank. Whatever it was, it must have packed a wallop to put him of all people on his ass like this. Speaking of which, his friend was being suspiciously quiet. Normally, he’d be chewing Naruto out for his recklessness right about now. Or making fun of him, depending on the situation.

As though summoned by his thoughts, the fox’s voice rumbled through his head. “Go to sleep, brat. You’re still recovering.”

“Kurama?” Naruto pried weary eyes open to look for his friend. Something about the bijū’s voice was off. He wanted to find out what, but he was just so tired, and his body wouldn’t cooperate with him, and his eyelids felt like they were weighed down with lead.

“Get some rest. I’ll handle things for now.”

Okay. No problem. Naruto trusted Kurama unconditionally, so he would listen. Maybe once he’d slept this off, then Kurama would fill him in. He sighed in contentment as he gave in to sweet oblivion.

...

I'll take you away from your nightmare!

If only you would come with me!

I want to show you a better way, so you and I will finally be free!

The Fourth Shinobi War ended, and yet true peace was still a distant dream. The calamitous destruction brought about by the Jūbi only reinforced the fear of the bijū and their jinchūriki. Fear and desperation made people stupid or dangerous. Oftentimes both.

Kakashi raced towards the rampaging Kyūbi, worry gnawing at him. This couldn’t have gone more wrong. Everything was falling apart. They had already lost so many good shinobi, good comrades, and now if Kurama’s reaction was anything to go by, Naruto was in critical condition. The Rokudaime Hokage pushed himself to go faster.

The sunshine boy filled with false bravado had grown and matured, but he looked so tiny crumpled on the ground, blood spilling out around him. Kakashi used his chakra to hastily trace out a seal, one firmly ingrained in his memory even without the sharingan. Sealing was truly an invaluable skill and he was grateful for all the time he and Naruto had spent together working on it, because right now it was his best hope for getting Naruto out of here alive.

All that mattered was getting him away. Someplace safe.

Light blazed as the seal took shape. Catching wind of what he was up to, Kurama threw his chakra into the mix to speed them on their way. The three were whisked away in a clap of thunder.

Destiny unfurled in a new direction.

...

I never wanted this

I never asked for it

But this is what you gave me

Dread pooled in his stomach. His thoughts were already beginning to spiral and took all his concentration to pay attention to Kurama’s explanation.

“Naruto was not meant to exist in this time. The only way to prevent him from disappearing entirely was to merge with him. He had no body to inhabit, so I created this form from chakra alone.”

“So is he…” Kakashi could hardly complete the thought. The idea that Naruto might be permanently damaged from their little jaunt through time was beyond terrifying. Naruto was a precious light that washed away the darkness of Kakashi’s younger years. Not only that, but he was Kakashi’s last anchor to sanity, to life. Without him...

“He is safe. He simply needs time to adjust. Our consciousnesses remain separate, so while he sleeps I am in control.”

As much of a relief as it was to know that Naruto would be alright, his former sensei couldn’t help but blame himself. It was his seal that got them into this mess.

Kurama whacked him, surprisingly gently, in the back of the head, scowling. “Seeing as Naruto isn’t awake to knock some sense into you, I shall do so in his place. This is not your fault. If anything, it was my chakra that threw everything off.”

Well. Kakashi must look truly pathetic for the perpetually cantankerous fox to jump in to comfort him. He couldn’t help it though. As many regrets as he had, and as tempting as it was to have a chance to fix them handed to him on a silver platter, nothing was worth Naruto’s life. He would make use of this opportunity only so long as Naruto’s wellbeing wasn’t at stake.

...

Death would be an ample compensation

Even if it's my demise

But heaven doesn't want me

Blood splattered in a hot spray of red death, the sound of a thousand chirping birds fading back into grim silence. Nothing else stirred in the dead of the night. Anbu Hound pulled back his hand, covered in the already cooling lifeblood of his target. Another layer of blood that he would never be able to wash off. Another stain on his soul.

He left the lifeless corpse behind to regroup with his team, who had been taking care of the guards while he carried out the assassination. He wasn’t overly worried about them, but it wouldn’t do to get sloppy. One slip-up could be fatal. Kakashi would prevent that no matter what. The only thing he lived for now was to ensure the return of all of his comrades, even at the expense of himself. His borderline suicidal tendencies drove his team nuts, particularly Genma, mother hen that he was. But Kakashi was good at it. There was a reason that his team took the most dangerous missions. There was a reason he had the respect of every single member of the Anbu black ops. All the same, he kept everyone at arm's length. While he hadn’t managed to get himself killed yet, all bets were off for everyone else. One way or another, anyone he let close wound up dead.

Kakashi wouldn’t be able to handle it if it happened again. For all his strength as a shinobi, he felt as fragile as glass, teetering on the brink of falling and shattering into a million broken pieces.

[godkilller]

DRABBLE: CAPTAIN VERSE

           Rain pitter-pattered its way down rooftop tiles, growing puddles collecting droplets in excess across the Fifth Division. Sloshy footsteps, scurrying Shinigami, the day had grown dim in light of the passing storm of thick clouds above. Sunlight swallowed, Gin walked swift, sacrificing the use of an umbrella ( unlike the distant passerby during his journey from the Third Division ) in favor of going completely unnoticed. A shadow in the dark, haori billowing behind long strides. Besides, it was faster without that protection, and it was not too terribly cold out for all the trouble------a preference of his, perhaps, as others were already bundling up for the oncoming winter chill. It was easy enough for Gin to move in the darkened light undetected, not many wished to venture outside in the gloomy weather, so the captain felt no issue in turning outright down that familiar path to route towards Aizen’s quarters.

          Gin invited himself in wordlessly, aware that his attendance was expected.

          Incense, as always, wafted to greet him. Tidy, only one pair of shoes beside his own ( that he was in the process of removing ) remained. Tousen would not be joining them tonight, it seemed, but that made plenty of sense considering it’d draw too much attention for three captains to meet outside of official business hours----not within the walls of their offices, or on the grounds of their respective divisions. No, to meet rather in the privacy of Aizen’s personal dwelling would raise alarm. Alone, then, they’d conduct their strategies.

          Gin hated how homey the man crafted the place into. Warm. Surface-level nostalgic.

          Late nights swayed into his peripheral vision akin to a ghost, young, seated straight, trying to stay awake without indication of struggle----Tousen and Aizen’s low tones speaking of experiments, tea warming his hand. A terrible displacement, to feel comfortable in the den of his ENEMY. Yet, he had to embrace the sensation of settling, of accepting the false sanctuary forced upon him. Now, with decades piled on, Gin stood with only the vague echo of the distaste he once held. A testament to his loathing, he supposed, that there still remained a tangible dislike. Combatting comfort, always. Never quite resting.

          He shook his head briefly at the thought, letting wet silver strands dry via quick motion, then crouched to place his discarded shoes, muddied, beside Aizen’s. He did not sneak, nor cloak his arrival, yet Aizen had clearly awaited blatant sound to arise for him to voice some semblance of a greeting. How polite.

         ❝ ——you’ll catch a cold, Gin, ❞ his voice traveled well into the main entryway of his home; Gin did not pause in walking towards the silhouetted figure by candlelight, seated beyond shoji screens awaiting. Revealed upon the sliding of a nearby door, Aizen sat before a small situation of paper and ink, flickering candles, the smell of incense swaying against the outermost wall. He was without his Shinigami uniform, rather donned with earthly toned robes, broad shoulders draped with an extra layer to stifle the looming chill. A single cushion awaited, and Gin stepped forward.

          ❝ WORRIED ‘bout me ? Don’t call for a meetin’ when it’s pouring, then, ❞ Gin delivered his reply swiftly, quick alongside the prompt plop of his form to seat himself across from the other’s poised stature. He hadn’t gotten too soaked during his walk, and soon enough in the all too inviting warmth of Aizen’s home, the touch of rain upon him would dry off. Sickness hadn’t struck Gin down for several years now----so the concern was misplaced, an outdated lecture from the days the Rukongai’s starvation still remained fresh, his body unaccustomed to the demanding lifestyle of a rising Shinigami’s regimen. Now, strange care from a parental figure ill-suited for him hovered from spoken words. Patronizing.

          ❝ Should we pause our tasks until spring ? I thought you didn’t mind the cold. ❞ 

          ❝ I wouldn’t mind a break, ❞ a falsified whine, exaggerated, lived and died purely for the sake of creating an exchange between them. His dramatics were easy enough to rely on when all else between them suffocated in silence.

          Gin earned a weak, soft, annoying hum in reply. Aizen’s gaze hadn’t left the poetry each brushstroke seemed to create, fluid----though the Third Division captain knew the other’s attention would not dare deviate in his presence. Leaning, Gin casually tested the invisible boundary in constant place between them, prodding in the form of a curious gaze, a playful grin, to tilt his chin in order to observe the other’s writing in motion. Under the guise of curiosity, absent-minded, humming low, GIN WATCHED HIM. Every motion of his wrist, the lightness of the brush’s graze across the surface, ink refined, elegant, perfect. A free-flowing thought made into word, into artistic commentary so pridefully humbled, reigning towards undefined regal tones. Royalty wouldn’t have suited him, though----too many confining rules, fit-the-box narratives. 

          Whilst lingering, Aizen’s posture did not falter nor stiffen, to brace, in Gin’s proximity. Reiatsu remained regular, a steady flow, a pulse unbothered----but GIN KNEW AIZEN WAS WATCHING HIM CLOSELY. Glasses glinting in the dim light, obscuring dark eyes omnipresent, focused. The air didn’t lie, subtle, thickened. Miniscule, but enough------------

          A shame the other’s Zanpakuto wasn’t within visible reach. Could be an illusion.

          ❝ Some classic soft-spoken  “ cap’n Aizen ”  poetry, I see... Careful, if ya come across as too thoughtful, everybody’ll start to think you’re up to somethin’. Y’should say some dumb shit sometimes, it’ll throw th’ scent, ❞ Gin scooted back, away, satisfied with his observation enough to recline against propped arms pressed behind, leaning. 

          ❝ Perhaps you’re right, Gin, you’ll have to show me. ❞

          ❝ Ahhh, don’t be so loooonely, cap’n Aizen, it shoooows...  did ya call me here to bicker ‘n be snobby, or plot ‘nd be snobby ? ❞

          ❝ Hm. My apologies, ❞ poetry discarded, gently placed aside to properly dry and for ink to settle----the fellow captain moved to replace blank paper with blueprints, various maps, sectors of Hueco Mundo charted via their efforts thus far. Las Noches had yet to be conquered, yet Aizen sat himself within its throne in his mind already. Fair enough, though, to go ahead and plan for his immediate changes, his desired ruling’s conditions. Gin knew this Arrancar at the helm currently was quite the bored slob, apparently, and it’d do them no good to run an army amongst rubble and ruin. Straightening his relaxed posture, Gin settled closer once more to properly observe.

          ❝ We’ve made contact with three, this area has no further pieces to offer, ❞ there, Aizen gestured, whilst speaking, across the outskirts----mostly dunes, several caverns hidden beneath white sands and shattered rock. The lands of eternal night stood vast, though luckily the subjects of Aizen’s attention were fairly easy to single out once one became accustomed to scouting out their unique signatures of power. Convincing them to join, however, felt half-assed. Aizen promised very little, in actuality, out loud to them. Instead, so far... most were relying on faith ( an odd phenomenon to witness an inhuman entity to endure ) that the Shinigami meant to bring changes that wouldn’t immediately result in their own demise. Across the desert, dozens were already unsettled by the dull king’s reign. Gin and Tousen would destroy his generals, his top soldiers, before his sunken eyes, beneath that starless sky----at least, that was the plan.

        ❝ How many are ya thinkin’ of eventually roundin’ up for th’ main act ? ❞

          Aizen hummed once more, regarding the various outlines, maps, with vague interest. CONSIDERING HIS OPTIONS, Gin knew the look.

          ❝ I don’t wish Soul Society’s complete destruction, rather, a rebirthing of sorts, ❞ a smooth voice, casual regardless of the topic of Soul Society’s unmaking.

          ❝ ----not too many, then, I reckon. A handful ? ❞

          ❝ Yes... I think that’s sufficient. We don’t want to underestimate our opponents. ❞

          On and on, the storm rolled through the night.

[thephilosophiesofbea]

Is Socialism the Most Appropriate Form of Government for the U.S.?

BY BETHANY HANNAN.

Socialism: Utopia or Dystopia?

In the U.S., if you’re in need of medical care, how long does it usually take to obtain it? After walking into the doctor’s office, maybe ten to twenty minutes? Now, imagine if that time quadrupled. In places governed by socialism, it is common to get put on a waitlist to see a doctor; the time of which you’re on that waitlist can range between six to eighty days. Some areas in Europe are particularly fond of this method of social organization. Two summers ago, my parents took a trip to Scotland, Ireland, Switzerland, and France. While in France, they came across a taxi driver who needed a knee surgery. He had been driving the taxi they were in for about five months, waiting for his turn to get a consultation. He was supposed to be on the waitlist for six months, but he had been waiting for a year to even figure out what he was supposed to do or what was going to happen. He didn’t get to pick his doctor, let alone for an important surgery that would determine whether or not he could walk afterwards. This is just one of the many different angles of socialism. This one, however, leans pretty heavily towards anti-socialism. Socialism has been, and always will be, a very controversial topic. But first, what is socialism? According to Lexico (funded by Oxford), socialism is “a political and economic theory of social organization which advocates that the means of production, distribution, and exchange should be owned or regulated by the community as a whole”. Most would call that a socio-economic score, but the history of socialism and it’s concerning determinism begs to differ. Socialism started primarily with one man: Karl Marx, creator of Marxist socialism and believer in the “true” socialism and communism. He built up his definition of socialism to be “a society which permits the actualization of man's essence, by overcoming his alienation. It is nothing less than creating the conditions for the truly free, rational, active and independent man; it is the fulfillment of the prophetic aim: the destruction of the idols” (Fromm 5). Marx thought that a mind under a common good would be more securely operational than a divided mind under a self-benefiting, centralized force would be/had been. He found freedom in the fact that one could find solace in the shared communion of society, whereas a capitalist or otherwise individualistic government would segregate the people into hierarchies of social acceptance; in some ways, he was right. “The freedom in this field cannot consist of anything else but of the fact that socialized man, the associated producers, regulate their interchange with nature rationally, bring it under their common control, instead of being ruled by it as by some blind power; they accomplish their task with the least expenditure of energy and under conditions most adequate to their human nature and most worthy of it” (Fromm 3). But socialism has developed many different interpretations throughout the years that force the people to look at it from multiple angles. It used to be considered an “old man’s ideology”, but with the youth’s increasing political awareness and personal beliefs, it is now the talk of the political century. Many believe socialism could be the key to the ultimate utopia for our country, but there are many cracks within the glass that suggest otherwise. Considering the stats, it seems socialism has hindered some countries’ economic prosperity more than it has helped them.

In 1999, Venezuela came under the rule of a socialist government, all thanks to their late president Hugo Chavez. When Chavez got elected, he intended to alleviate poverty and the suffering of his citizens, but only promised economic degradation of his once-prospering country. In his article, Daniel Di Martino tells a personal anecdote about the effects of socialism saying, “The regime nationalized electricity in 2007, resulting in under-investment in the electrical grid. By 2016, my home lost power roughly once a week. Our water situation was even worse. Initially, my family didn't have running water for about one day per month, but as the years passed we sometimes went several weeks straight without it” (Di Martino 2-4). Hyperinflation burdened almost every family in Venezuela and many places governed under socialism. Everyday assets were hard to afford, meaning those who couldn’t afford them, or were simply stripped of them, had to pay the price for choosing a political party they didn’t quite understand the gravity of. Because of Chavez’s aspiration for a community that was not yet achievable, Venezuela’s economy collapsed and hyperinflation (inflation accelerated to 700 percent, says The American Institute for Economic Research) destroyed the country’s currency. Chavez also failed to console the public’s concerns about it. 

An editor from a Tribune Business News article states; 

As The New York Times reported in 2007: ‘Chavez has threatened to jail grocery store owners and nationalize their businesses if they violate the country's expanding price controls.’ Last year, his government seized a Cargill rice processing plant for failing to produce enough rice at regulated prices. Venezuela's government-run grocery stores present shoppers with two prices: the precio capitalista, or capitalist price, and the precio justo, or just price. (Tribune Business News 3)

Di Martino even tried to escape to the United States to rid himself of Venezuela’s lasting socialist ways, but he was only met with (and disgraced by) the States’ attempt (prompted by Sen. Bernie Sanders and others) to harness ultimately socialist ways as well. 

Granted, some will take the idealistic high road and argue that socialism works exceptionally well when everyone works under an “all-for-one” mindset. They defend their argument by providing evidence on how much the human mindset has already changed throughout the years we’ve existed because of the social status quo or a common statute or way of government, provided that capitalism has only existed for some 500 years, so there must have been some other way of functioning politically. 

In his article, Richard Ebeling provides an example of what some hyper-enthusiasts and idealistic believers in socialism think, saying; 

A true socialist society would mean more freedom not less, so it was unfair to judge socialism by these supposedly twisted experiments in creating a workers' paradise. Furthermore, under a true socialism, human nature would change and men would no longer be motivated by self-interest, but by a desire to selflessly advance the common good. (Ebeling 5)

But, to combat that far-fetched opinion, we must face the facts: man is powered by selfishness. It is in our DNA to want things only and tactlessly for ourselves, take the hunters and gatherers for example; only recently have we even considered, or more or less tolerated, sharing with others what we believe we worked hard for for ourselves. Although the human mindset contains room for growth and evolution and possibility for change, when it comes to sharing the fruits of our labors, it becomes a little less simplistic. We would become barbaric, or on the other side of the spectrum, realize we would never have to do anything ever again to earn said fruits, because they would be fruits of someone else’s labor. 

Socialism has a good intention set forth, but it still needs several reevaluations before it can be considered a true rumination. Although some try to argue that socialism is making a sizeable dent in the political forcefield, it’s quite the contrary; the lasting members of the socialist party for the US are nearing their demise. In his article, Robby Soave advocates for this detail, saying, “As recently as 2013, the average member of the Democratic Socialists of America (DSA) was 68 years old. Even today, the ideology's best-known spokesperson, Sen. Bernie Sanders (I-Vt.), is 77” (Soave 8). If anything, the socialist party will be fading come ten years from now instead of “uniting the people through means of commonality” like the enthusiasts hope. It could be possible, however, if the socialist party were to tweak some of their over-eager precepts, such as with Hugo Chavez’s plan to abolish poverty. Perhaps focusing on opening up more entry-level jobs for those that don’t have the money or experience for higher-level opportunities, thus preparing them for said higher-level opportunities by providing them work experience at large. Redesigning the whole government into a socialist “utopia” wouldn’t have been necessary, just redefinition of Venezuela’s old government. If we were to all agree to work towards a socialist world, the structure of every institution and every format of law would need to change. "Mere state ownership of key productive forces is not enough to create a socialist society; the people must exercise a sovereign rule over these productive forces and society as a whole, and the society must be organized to promote collective needs" (McChesney 11). Instead of reinventing the government in its entirety, the government should simply and unhesitantly address what caused all of the poverty. If it was actually democracy that ruined Venezuela’s socio-economic status or if, with any means of government, poverty would still be present in the country. In his article, Eric Foner brought the empty promises of socialism to the light, saying, “The Socialist party, although it elected hundreds of candidates to local office and obtained nearly a million votes for Eugene Debs's 1912 presidential candidacy, failed nevertheless to bridge the gaps between skilled and unskilled workers, and native-born whites, blacks, and immigrants” (Foner 2). Throughout the years, socialism and its tendency to manifest fickle infrastructure has never promised anything more than a contradictory mix of ensured laziness and chaos because of lack of assiduousness and satisfaction in one’s own achievements. 

But let’s not ignore the elephant in the room: capitalism, “an economic and political system in which a country's trade and industry are controlled by private owners for profit, rather than by the state” (Lexico, funded by Oxford). The nation’s silent assailant isn’t as innocent of charges as we grant it to be. Capitalism has accustomed some to receiving all, and others receiving none, therefore the idea of socialism is a bizarre and frankly forbidden concept some refuse to accept. "In the development of U.S. capitalism, the wealth of some was inextricably tied to the poverty of others, and race and gender largely determined which were which: Native American land, Black slavery, Latin American resources, and the underpaid labor of women and children factory workers formed the pillars of capital accumulation" (Mankiller 3). Under this mindset, US citizens, and anyone else under a fundamentally capitalist way of operating, often slip into a disposition to where they believe they are entitled to free choice. But free choice is merely a side dish that comes alongside capitalism, almost as a “thank you” package for putting it into place. US citizens forget to acknowledge all of the delicacies that capitalism has graced us with (or, rather, addicted us to). Let’s take phones for example: phones, iPhones in particular, have become the poster child of our generation, all thanks to capitalism. We are able to buy one whenever we want, get whatever model we want, get whatever update we want when we want, get whatever apps we want on there (excluding incidences of parental restriction, but even then, that’s a freedom within itself). We have a million different freedoms right between our palms and we forget it every day. With socialism, people tend to forget that it’s an “all-for-one” mindset, therefore those decisions are made for you, and you have no say in it. This is no longer a democracy, whether you try your hardest to believe it so or not. Now the government makes every action for you. Makes socialism look a little more restricting now, doesn’t it? Well, you’ll have plenty of time to have your complaints sent to voicemail, since socialism sits idle in office for four lengthy years. Surprise! Welcome to autocracy and favored aristocracy. Population, you. Also, don’t think socialism will pick favorites among the people, because it won’t. It will only make life easier for those with millions flowing out of their britches every month. For a solid amount of people, that’s a tricky and unconstitutional notion that they want to avoid letting their kids grow up with.

Speaking of the youth, institutions such as schools would change structures completely. Public schools under a socialist government would alter the democratic way the teachers teach in the classroom. Some view this alteration as a blessing in disguise, one that eliminates material competition for students and eagerly encourages a positive reinforcement teaching method. Students would be “placed in work based on their strengths and not be penalized for their weaknesses” (angelfire.com). Many teachers currently argue that a more well-rounded and socialized instructional method would “build character” and “effectively teach right from wrong”. Students would learn quicker and would legitimately welcome teacher instruction without fear of potentially ill-fitted punishment. Karl Marx argued for “‘polytechnical education’, linking schooling with the real world of production” (socialistsalternative.org). He believed this new method of instruction would differentiate those who “labored” and those who “thought”, thus progressing our society into what it needed to be to better the circumstances we live in. In the 1950’s, an institution called the Socialist Sunday School (SSS) changed mainstream instructional ways into those encouraging socialism. The school taught more diverse topics, like Philosophy, and encouraged students to look at things from a new, more socialized perspective; one that, they argued, schools under capitalism failed to endorse. Margaret McMillan, one of the school’s utmost supporters, put forth that there was “new intimacy between teacher and taught” (Reid 5). She then proceeded to state the freedoms our kids should have, and would have under a more socialist way of schooling, saying, “our children should draw freely” and “they should write more and talk more than is possible in the day school” (5). Furthermore, privatized education, under socialism, would encourage charter schools to place their books under public scrutiny because of public funding towards it. Many who believe in “true” socialism also believe in this notion coming into fruition; the public paid for those books to be given to charter schools, and capitalism has denied them from even using them, so socialism would, therefore, grant rights to things that were previously deemed “privatized”, which is one of the reasons why so many people are in its favor. 

Education and political affiliations are bound to be interconnected. Differing governmental styles have a heavy influence on the infrastructure and lesson plans of a school’s curriculum. It ultimately determines what the students are exposed to, thus those who learn more prevalent material during their school years tend to have better chances to succeed later in life. Voxeu.com states, “treated individuals, who were exposed to socialist schooling for one less school year, exhibit 2% higher employment rates and 1.5% higher hours worked. For the older birth cohorts, less exposure to non-meritocratic access restrictions in the treated group leads to 4% higher wages and a 5% higher probability of having a professional job” (12). Schools functioning under socialism would presumably be more efficient as the years went on and the pure definition or representation of morals of socialism would be reevaluated. They would offer higher level thinking opportunities and give time for students’ problem solving skills to develop due to lessened authoritarianism in the classrooms. Socialism, in this instance, would solve many unnecessary setbacks in educational settings. 

My parents’ taxi driver’s experience with socialism continues to be the poster child for why observers of any political movement should look at both sides of the road before crossing. Public healthcare in places dominated by socialist governments such as France could be considered an actor with an excellent facade. It will hold up it’s act until the curtains close and the lights begin to fade and nobody is around to see how genuinely flawed it really is. It’s mask is slowly developing cracks, yet those cracks are not enough to enforce change in legal structures. It won’t be enough until it breaks completely and tanks France’s governmental state too. Universal healthcare has not only shot down opportunities for free choice when it comes to doctors or waitlists, but it has also driven away any competition in the healthcare business due to one business centralizing all profit. 

In his article, John Sieler demonstrates how ruinous universal healthcare could be if manipulated by those fighting for said centralization, saying; 

TennCare (another experiment in medical socialism), explains the entry in Wikipedia, ‘was designed to expand health insurance to the uninsured through the state's Medicaid program by utilizing managed care.’ Centralization was supposed to reduce costs, with ‘free’ money from the federal government picking up any financial slack. But predictably, many companies stopped providing medical insurance, forcing employees to sign up with TennCare. ‘In short order, one quarter of the state's population was on TennCare,’ Patrick Poole wrote on AmericanThinker.com last January. TennCare ‘has forced dozens of hospitals out of business, pushed thousands of doctors and other health care professionals out of the state, destroyed any semblance of a competitive health insurance market, and nearly drove the state government into bankruptcy.’ (15-16)

Universal healthcare proves beneficial in theory, but as anything more than a hypothetical, it severely lacks any strong foundation. As it’s carried out, those who practice business under it will benefit, whilst those who are forced to live under it will fall prey to extended wait times and lack of free choice.

Socialism, as a whole, poses many thoughts about what freedoms man is granted at birth and upholding those freedoms throughout one’s lifetime. Moral and socio-economic angles have to be approached to come to a sensible conclusion. As of right now, the most logical conclusion, given the state at which socialism is currently, is that the political movement is not ready for export. Socialism begs too many questions and leaves too many loose ends free for it to be properly dished out. The leaders wanting to fight for socialism to become as mainstream as capitalism will ultimately let the centralized power get to their head, and subsequently, lose control of what was once a stable country. Karl Marx had a clear vision to which he was ready to manifest into fruition, given the economic state of the world around him. But the vision he wants to implement is too fool-hardy and quick to the gun. Maybe Marx’s dream for socialism will come true some day, once all is taken into revision. Then we, as human beings, can finally say we learned the way of mental plasticity, true change, and, thus, a reason to never doubt the supposedly impossible. But until then, man will continue to harvest, blindly and exclusively.

Works Cited (and Interesting Sites to check out!)

Ebeling, Richard M. "Why Socialism is "Impossible"." Freeman, Oct 2004. Sirsissuesresearcher, https://explore.proquest.com/sirsissuesresearcher/document/2267936372?accountid=41449.

Foner, Eric, and John A. Garraty. "Socialism." , 1991. Sirsissuesresearcher, https://explore.proquest.com/sirsissuesresearcher/document/2265463961?accountid=41449.

Fuchs-Schündeln, Nicola and Masella, Paolo. 05 June 2016. 

https://voxeu.org/article/long-lasting-effects-socialist-education

Fromm, Erich. “Marx’s Concept of Socialism.” 1961.

https://www.marxists.org/archive/fromm/works/1961/man/ch06.htm

Glover, Juleanna, et al. “What Would a Socialist America Look Like?” POLITICO Magazine, 3 Sept. 2018, www.politico.com/magazine/story/2018/09/03/what-would-a-socialist-america-look-like-219626.

Mankiller, Wilma. Socialism. , 1998. Sirsissuesresearcher, https://explore.proquest.com/sirsissuesresearcher/document/2265472802?accountid=41449.

Martino, Daniel D. "Socialism Destroyed My Home, Venezuela." USA TODAY, 19 Feb 2019. Sirsissuesresearcher, https://explore.proquest.com/sirsissuesresearcher/document/2264363868?accountid=41449.

McChesney, Robert W. "Capitalism, the Absurd System." Monthly Review, 06 2010. Sirsissuesresearcher, https://explore.proquest.com/sirsissuesresearcher/document/2265594180?accountid=41449.

Soave, Robby. "Socialism is Back, and the Kids are Loving it." Reason, Aug 2019. Sirsissuesresearcher,

Reid, Julie. The Guardian (pre-1997 Fulltext); Manchester (UK) [Manchester (UK)]02 Jan 1996: T.014.

BY BETHANY HANNAN.

[beelas-bees]

AU TIME

I had an idea for an AU since the newest episode!

So I’ve always thought Patton was being very unfair recently and he really needs to be stopped plus I’ve also heard of a “twisted sense of morality” and couldn’t help but get an idea once I pieced the two together. 

Plus everyone knows I love my snakey boi! So of course he’s the protag here! I don’t hate Patton (Although I do make him the villain in my head alot) I just think it fits him as a bad character!

So I tinkered with the idea of Patton being kinda evil but not realizing the consequences of his actions, causing Thomas to spiral down a path of self-destruction and the other light sides fiercely defending Patton at every turn (Much to Deceit’s despair).

So I practiced writing a little prologue for the AU. It takes place a bit before Accepting Anxiety where Anxiety is slowly leaving the dark sides to the light. Deceit is noticing more and more that Morality isn’t seeming like he should and goes to confront him.

Spoilers for the new episode! Some blood and violence and just angst. Lemme know if I need to add any other warnings!! <3

Twisted Morality AU: Prologue///

Thomas was being swayed more and more towards Morality's agenda. And that was bad. Morality might believe he is righteous but if anyone would listen to me, they would understand that his judgement is corrupt. Anyone's sense of morality can be twisted but Thomas' was corrupted and no one even knows. Except for me, Deceit. Of course, no one will trust the actual concept of dishonesty, but I have to try to save Thomas. He's my host too, and I will stop at nothing to make Thomas a stable person again. Morality has his grasp around Creativity and Logic tight and now 'Anxiety' is being tricked too. I need to speak to Morality, before he convinces them to shut me out for good. I stepped into the 'light' realm but I didn't get far down the hallway before I encountered the all powerful side. I don't know how he knew I was here so fast as the others couldn't detect me until the kitchen, maybe he was getting stronger... "Morality!" I spoke to the man, standing tall and still in front of me "I wasn't looking for you at all!" I tried to sound strong but the truth was shining through. I'm absolutely terrified of Morality. Morality stared at me, gaze ice cold "Deceit, you know you're not allowed here." he started walking towards me. I backed up "Whaaat!?~ I didn't hear of that rule." I cleared my throat and continued to back out as Morality showed no signs of stopping. "Do you want to speak in the Void?" Morality smiled, but the warmth was absent from his expression "Yes, that'd be great!" he said in his usual tone but knowing the context made it scary. Morality led us to the door I had just walked through and into the Void where the others and I lived. He cracked the door behind him and stood guard in front of it. "So Deceit, what do you need to speak about so badly as you would have to tread on our territory?" I blinked, only a little confused but I wouldn't show that to him "Your territory?" I laughed, unease creeping up on me as Morality dangerously narrowed his eyes at me "I-i thought the mind was free reign to us all?-" "No." Morality shut me down immediately, knocking the breath out of me. "O-oh! I- uh-" I stuttered but Morality cut me off once more. "That's enough, Deceit. I'm sure you're intelligent enough to tell what's going on here." Morality said in a stone cold voice, one that sometimes reminded me of myself. "So, you need to stay out here." Morality started to turn away, holding his right hand purposefully away from me, I grabbed him by his shoulder "Morality! We still need to talk!" I felt Morality stiffen under my grasp and turned quickly to face me again, I stepped back as fear took hold of me. Morality didn't say anything at first, but he didn't need to as his actions spoke a thousand words, words of demise. "Deceit." he spoke, finally, turning to face me fully and taking his hand from behind his back. A barely visible glint of silver metal was my only warning before Morality lunged at me. While I was frozen solid, Morality grabbed me by my shoulder and roughly cut my scales with the kitchen knife he held, as if he knew I was coming all along. I hissed at the sudden pain in my face, I was pushed to the ground as I tried to check the condition of my face. Morality knew he couldn't kill me, of course, but he could still cause me a great deal of agony. "Deceit." Morality breathed heavily "NEVER! Touch me again!" he screamed, as no one but me would hear him. I blinked away the tears before they could even form, I stood up, shaking. "Morality, you listen hard and you listen good, because these words will be the truest I've ever spoken." Despite the pain and the blood on my hands, I stared at Morality ready for anything. "You are unjust and you are leading Thomas down a path of self-destruction and you are not letting me tell you how to fix your way of thinking! I just want to help and you are preventing me!" I was letting out everything, desperate for Morality to understand and change his ways. "You have to understand..." Morality's gaze didn't soften "Heh, no, I don't. You are Deceit, the literal embodiment of lies. I am Morality! I know that you are bad and that's that." I blinked, thoughts becoming gritty "Morality, huh?" I seethed and laughed as the blood continued to trickle down my face "I don't think I can even call you Morality anymore. You've fallen so far from your path, you are... so, twisted now. Your reign of terror will be stopped, Patton, and I will be the one to stop you." I used his real name, to appeal to his sense of humanity but to no luck.

Morality laughed crazed, his face speckled with my own blood and he held up the knife threateningly "Try your best, Deceit. But I'm a light side, you're not. They'll always believe me before you." Referring to Logic, Creativity, Anxiety and Thomas hurt my heart, he chuckled before continuing "Besides, I'm Morality. I decide what's good and bad." He smiled an unfamiliar evil smirk.

I stared, fearful of Morality once more as he laughed. He took a sharp step towards me, making me fall back. "Know your place Deceit, and stay out of the light." he stepped through the door and shut it behind him. I scrambled to get up and tried the door knob but to no avail, Morality had locked me out of the light. Away from Logic, Creativity, Anxiety. Away from Thomas. I screamed and scratched at the door until my claws broke, tears streamed down my face as I finally gave up. I sat for awhile, trying to recover, once my breaths were back to normal, I checked my face. running my now broken claws along the cut line from my ear to my mouth. Angry, I stood up and headed towards the others. Walking in the Void alone gave me plenty of time to think about how to act next. I rushed in to see the Duke still in the kitchen "What are you doing in here?" I hissed at him, it was late and he needed sleep, plus I didn't want anyone to see me hurt. The Duke turned, alarmed, but settled once he saw it was me "Oh! Snakey! It's you. I was just, uh, getting some nice juicy eyeballs to eat." he winked. Without thinking, I used my hand that was covering my face to slap the 'eyeballs', which was actually cold pizza, out of his hands. "You shouldn't eat before sleeping!" a gasp sounded from the Duke, but not because of the pizza. "Deicy! What happened to your face!?" The Duke was panicked, rushing to sit me down and conjure up something to help me. "Gotta take care of mom when she can't care for her kids!" I laughed nervously "I wasn't just scratching at my scales again and scratched too hard!" The Duke looked back at me "I thought you didn't scratch your face? Just your arm- OHMYGOSH!" he grabbed my hands, covered in blood and my nails split horridly. "Your claws! Were you scratching that hard!?" "Uh. Yeah..." I felt too sick to continue, gulping down any bile that dared to rise up. The Duke continued to work in silence until my face and hands were patched up and I began to get drowsy. "Are you sure you're okay, Dee?" The Duke looked at me, sincere. I shook my head "I'm fine. Really! I'm just kinda tired now." The Duke nodded "Oh, okay. Get some rest, please." I stood and stretched, taking off my cloak and hat. "Okay, but don't let me catch you up this late again!" I gave him a toothy grin "Or I won't have to do something about it!" The Duke laughed "Alright! Alright! Let the bed bugs suck the blood out, Deicy!" I smiled "Terrible night, Remus." I headed to my room, setting down my cloak and hat and undressed until I was comfortable. I laid down and let the weight of what just happened slap me in the face. I was barred from the light realm for good. Maybe I could get Remus or someone to go over there and get the door open. But until then, I should work on a plan to stop Morality. He was doing too much and whether he knew it or not, he was destroying the others and Thomas, and I refuse to just stand by any longer. I touched my new scar with my bandaged claws and thought again before drifting off to sleep. I will take down Thomas' twisted sense of Morality!

///

Sooo! That was it! I hope you enjoyed as I’m not good at writing (As my writing sometimes has to be read a certain way ahah) or concepts pfft but I was glad to create the art in between it!

Also! Here’s a concept drawing for the AU I did!

I hope to add more soon! Bye bye!

[smartusyodus]

“To be or to be not, that the question is”

The world is changing, changing dramatically, on our eyes, and it is quite obvious that a human is directly involved and is the main factor behind these changes.

But what is this factor?

...

Those of us who live in the real world (not in the illusory one) definitely understand that changes can be mostly positive and negative. “Mostly” because there is hardly any change is “absolutely” positive or negative, and this is the difficulty of its assessment. Positive changes lead humanity and the whole world (as an exceptional environment for our dwelling) to a better being while negative ones, in the best case, slow down the development, and in the worst, threaten the existence of not only humanity but the world as a whole.

Everything seems to be simple (I don’t think that there is at least one mentally healthy person who wants to bring the demise of the world closer) — it is necessary to create positive changes, or rather (since only positive changes are utopia), create a balance in which positive changes will compensate the impact of negative ones and at the same time maintain movement in the right direction.

However, this is hardly what we have at the moment — the world is developing, technical and intellectual progress is gaining astounding speed, but at the same time, existing contradictions are intensified and escalated, new conflicts arise, at the base of which are deepening differences in worldview, and the threat to habitat becomes catastrophic.

In general, everything looks like that we have come to a certain critical line, to a pivot in our development, a fork that can either bring humanity to a qualitatively new level of development or stop progress for many years or even put humanity and the whole world on the brink of survival.

Do not agree? Then it seems that you have problems with scaling and a holistic perception of reality: conflicts, wars (hybrid and conventional), financial and economic difficulties flowing into crises, lack of trust between political forces and countries, the rise of populism, migration waves, isolationism, protectionism, shaking the foundations of democracy in both hemispheres, thoughtless exploitation of natural resources, which is beginning to bring its “fruits”, a lie that becomes truth and truth that cannot be distinguished from a lie, and so on.

And if you do not understand this or consider it all insignificant or not relating to you personally, then you are trying “under a napkin from the downpour to hide” — the consequences sooner or later will overtake you too.

...

Why is it that way? Why, instead of confidently moving towards building a healthy, progressive, harmonious, just (and not at all about utopian concepts) world, mankind constantly goes to extremes, which bring serious dividends in one, but become destructive in another?

Why, instead of demonstrating all the virtues of the “end product of evolution” and the “Tsar of Nature”, we behave like primitive and cruel exploiters who do not care about tomorrow at all? At least a large part of us…

The answer, how banal it may sound, is simple and complex at the same time — it’s up to us, in our worldview, our relationship with each other and the world around us, the degree of our interest and involvement, both in local and in global processes, in deep awareness (or ignoring) that it is not enough just to wish for changes in the world (or watch them), but also to change ourselves, and not as a result of such changes, but to anticipate them and be their source — “The world as we treat, to us the world treats also!”

...

Most of us habitually believe that our individual influence on world processes simply does not exist, or it is completely insignificant — it’s hard to argue with this, but as long as we think so, it will remain so. In fact, the world is controlled and influenced by not only political or financial giants (or lilliputians :-)), as it may seem, but also active, purposeful people. If the goal is simple and understandable for a sufficient number of such people located in close geographical or political locations, a synergy arises, transforming into a powerful driver capable of changing society, state, world, finally, as has happened in history many times — it is an active minority is the main driving force of any society, creating conditions under which an inert majority is involved in the process, which reinforces, legitimizes the changes, or, by inaction, rejects the ones.

What is an inert majority — this is a part of society (most of any society, the difference is only in proportions depending on the type of society), the main characteristics of which are inertia, lack of interest in everything that does not concern personal interests. The world of such people is usually limited to the framework of personal involvement and very narrow temporal and spatial boundaries, which is most often the result of lack of personal development. They often lack critical thinking, make value judgments based on personal sympathies (available information is used rather confirm existing beliefs, but not to correct them), are easily manipulated, propagandized, in general, are the main target (and victim) of populists and every kind of rogue and hypocrite.

It is on the activity/inertness line that most of the contradictions and misunderstandings arise, which become fertile ground and fuel for conflicts, since in fact, these are two, seriously differing from each other, types of thinking — two different worldviews, one of which is based on the vertical type of relationship, when a person voluntarily delegates a significant part of one’s civil rights and obligations to some kind of authority-sympathetic in exchange for a certain (real or perceived) stability of one’s personal “world” (in other words, some the similarity of feudal relations, in which the main signaling role is assigned to the system friend/foe), and horizontal, based on equality and openness. It can be said that this is a difference in the choice of civilization — the inert are trying with all their might to retain what they own (tangible and intangible), the active are trying to create a new value.

Here I want to make a very important clarification — we are not talking about “absolute altruism”, this way is possible only for people who are aware of their mission in this and see ways to accomplish it, for everyone else this is the way to self-destruction.

To my mind, a normal person should be healthy or an objective egoist — put one’s own interests and the interests of one’s own surroundings above the interests of the others.

However, objective egoism will allow us to correctly assessing these interests and the required resources, reasonably put them to life, and also realize that personal interests are always in a relationship with more global interests — society, state, and the world. In general, you need “to see, that mountains beyond the sea there are or, at least, to understand, that they exist”.

I also omit the mention of the active part of society’s radical components of various kinds, relationships, conflicts between them and the impact on the inert majority — this topic always remains relevant, and requires more detailed coverage.

It should be noted that it is unlikely that the task of defining these types is simple — they may look the same (and surely some will not have horns and hoofs, and others will not have a halo :-) ), they may have a similar education and represent the same layer of society, they can act in a similar way — their main difference from each other lies in the field of motivation and values.

...

And here we come to a moment that defines the very essence of our existence — “To which part of society I belong — to an active minority or to an inert majority?”

How to understand?

In fact, everything is quite simple — if you are able to intelligently ask yourself this question (as, indeed, any other philosophical question like “Who am I?”, “What is the meaning of life?” or “What is the purpose of my existence?”) it means that you are either already in the number of active, or in the process of transformation from inert.

Such a transformation is not an easy task at all, since, in fact, it is a cardinal change in the type of thinking, worldview, and lifestyle, and may take a large amount of time (and really, all your life, since this is a way of perfection). But if you set foot on this road, it will be very difficult to stop (though not impossible, unfortunately).

It should be noted that the transformation of consciousness is apparently the most difficult (and, obviously, the most important) part in the process of personal development — on the one hand, almost every one of us has a certain understanding of the need for development and even the desire to do so (and this is probably an innate quality). On the other hand, such development is most often limited to cosmetic changes, since fundamental changes require constant serious revision of the basic criteria for assessing being, objectivity in any actions, self-criticism, and readiness to change wrong beliefs. It is unlikely that everyone is ready (or even capable) for this.

Nevertheless, this way, or rather the possibility of this, I think, is one of the most important aspects of our being.

...

In my opinion, the main driver of the transformation of consciousness is (or should be) honesty — honesty towards oneself, honesty towards others, honesty towards the world.

And although honesty is a relative concept, an objective view of all aspects of life is connected with it.

Objectivity, in turn, allows us to assess correctly the advantages and disadvantages of any action and its consequences and make choices that may be confronted with personal interests, but be more important from a global perspective.

Of course, neither honesty nor objectivity can arise by themselves. They need the right soil in the form of knowledge, experience, skills, in other words, an integrated approach to life, which is expressed in personal development and awareness of its necessity as a starting point. But this awareness itself is unlikely to arise from scratch, for this you need to have at least dissatisfaction with the current state (physical or social, which requires the development of observation and analysis) or thirst for the new.

...

What can help in personal development?

Factors that have long been known, the value of which is different, but always exists — positive thinking, proper sleep, physical and mental activity, pleasure, self-confidence, diet, meditation, breathing practices, rhythm, cyclical, etc.

Something is absolutely necessary, something can complement.

“Start a movement, a way will be!”

...

And yet, what should be our life and our relationship with the world?

Here I express exceptionally my own point of view, far from a dictatorship. I try to be objective, but I understand that anyone can have their own opinion on the problems described and their well-established patterns of interaction with the world. To take something as useful or completely ignore everything I wrote, your absolute right.

Obviously, we should not be strangers in the world, outsiders in relation, at least, to processes that change our reality. We should strive to understand their nature, causality, and dynamics, try to participate in them, influence them, predict and correct the consequences.

We must be responsible, decisive, courageous and fair and full of the realization that our actions have weight and influence the course of history.

We must create communities of like-minded people (size, in this case, is of secondary importance, the quality and functionality of groups are more important) in order for our influence to be more powerful, in attempts to create a just world. A world based on progress, harmony, equality, opportunities for self-realization for all, regardless of starting points, on respect among people and caring for the world around us, including the animal world and nature, in all its manifestations.

“If to change the world you want — first yourself must change!”

...

This article is the result of my deeply subjective reflections, observations of the surrounding and my inner world, the attempts to establish simple causal relationships and create an understandable model of the world. Your right to accept these ideas and draw your own conclusions, or completely ignore them and go your own way.

“May the force be with you!”

[slicehead26-blog]

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