#and how loaded all that is

[cruelsister-moved2]

tbh one of my biggest learning curves w folk culture was learning that the desire for stuff to be super old is kind of dangerous & directly enables a lot of the romantic-nationalist and outright fascist myths & tropes to continue. stuff in oral culture just often doesn't 'survive' or isn't recorded very well, but the very concept of 'survivals' being important has a deep&dark relationship with colonialism. at a certain point you have to ask yourself if something being older actually is inherently better or if you're just denying autonomy to oral culture. w the xmas tree example, is it really cooler if xmas trees are some disembodied 'survival' of the Collective Wellspring of the Ancient German Volk Stock or is it not kind of fascinating that central european peasants in the late medieval/early modern period seem to have just started doing that all of a sudden like it was the new interior design trend? idk like i love weird fragmentary maybe-ancient ballads as much as the next person but i would never let that make me turn a blind eye to the beautiful richness of more recent oral culture that gives us such heartbreaking personal insights into the life of some individual victorian woman in favour of imagining whatever i want about a faceless mass. and when you actually study ballads in context you see how much different individuals repurpose them and how much the idea that some perfect Original is being lost each time they do is so reactionary and ignorant & you get real w yourself about the fact that the real allure of that fragment is its mystery when other similar songs better 'preserved' or documented actually turn out to be less than 250 years old suddenly don't seem so esoteric

anyway look at this

[brother-emperors]

something. about. the horror of being sent on an impossible (death) quest and obligations and hospitality politics. the trauma of not having a home, and then the trauma of being in a house that becomes actively hostile to you, one that would swallow you whole and spit out your bones if you step out of line. all of this is conditional, your existence continues to be something men want gone.

it's about going back as far as I can with the perseus narrative because there's always a version of a myth that exists behind the one that survives. the missing pieces are clearly defined, but the oldest recorded version of it isn't there! and there's probably something older before that!! but it's doomed to forever be an unfilled space, clearly defined by an outline of something that was there and continues to be there in it's absence.

and love. it's also about love. even when you had nothing, you had love.

on the opposite side of the spectrum, this is Not About Ovid Or Roman-Renaissance Reception, Depictions And Discourses On The Perseus Narrative.

edit: to add to the above, while it's not about Ovid, because I'm specifically trying to peel things back to the oldest version of this story, Ovid is fine. alterations on the Perseus myth that give more attention Medusa predate Ovid by several centuries. this comic is also not about those, either! there are many versions of this story from the ancient world. there is not one singular True or Better version, they're all saying something.

Perseus, Daniel Ogden

Anthology of Classical Myth: Primary Sources in Translation, edited & translated by Stephen M Trzaskoma, R. Scott Smith, Stephen Brunet

[moderndaypandora]

i recognize that simon and edwin meeting and parting in hell is narratively very good and provides closure for all. but imagine if simon had agreed to try and escape with edwin. and charles doesn't have time to really question it, because anybody who likes edwin is aces in his book and it's hell, they need to leave. (edwin, out of courtesy to their third companion, puts his plan to confess on hold until they've escaped.)

suddenly the edwin harem of "supernatural boys who all hate each other but are attracted to that negative rizz" gains another member, and at some point edwin is going to have to mention that simon was the boy who sacrificed him to hell.

the chaos. crystal's bitchy commentary. charles going from friendly smiling to clutching his cricket bat. niko's whispering "200k slow burn schoolboy rivals to lovers" with heart eyes. it'd be chef's kiss good. edwin fleeing to his books and praying that nobody, but especially not the cat king, finds him because there has been SO MUCH emotion already. hysterical.

[sunderwight]

Scenario where Yue Qingyuan and Luo Binghe both pick up on and independently confirm for themselves, a few years into the matter, that Shen Qingqiu's soul has indeed been replaced with someone else's. But they have polar opposite reactions about it. Yue Qingyuan keeps trying to figure out how to get SJ back (alone, since it's nothing he can prove and also he sucks at asking for help), while Luo Binghe is doing everything in his power to make sure that Shen Qingqiu stays the new version or doesn't have his soul replaced again. The two of them each entirely unaware of the other's knowledge or actions, basically cancelling one another out.

Yue Qingyuan finds an item that should loosen the current occupant soul's hold on the body, potentially allowing Shen Jiu's soul to come to the fore again (if it's still in there somewhere) or regain control. Luo Binghe, around the same time, discovers a rare herb that is said to help reinforce the connection between the soul and the body, to help with individuals who have troubles with dissociation. Yue Qingyuan gifts the "rare artifact" and gets Shen Qingqiu to put it in his study, Luo Binghe mixes the herb into a medicinal tea and serves it to him every day. Net zero impact.

[lunacias]

(Silence. CARPENTER tries to rally HAYWARD's spirits. She's afraid she's going to lose him.)

"All three of us - we can all go on living, Hayward. Just like you said."

[jaywuzhere9029]

art dump because i forget i have a tumblr and yuh

[slavhew]

01/11/2023 struggler(s)

[astrhae]

...maybe it's all part of a great big ineffable plan

[princncess]

hard scene done outside, maybe in a backyard, leaving you wounded on the ground needing time to recover. your dom acts like they’ve gotten what they wanted and leaves (and goes back inside). you finally peel yourself off the ground and enter the house to see them, now out of the assailant character, and they cheerfully welcome you back. that is, until looking at you and becoming horrified, oh my god, what happened to you, come here you’re safe now, let me take care of those wounds, you’re ok you’re ok you’re ok-

[diviously]

take the wheel

[telesilla]

Not gonna go out on this limb on a 25k post, but maybe it’s okay that kids today don’t know as much about using an actual computer as we do/did? Is it useful knowledge? Of course it is. So is using a sewing machine or being able to rebuild your VW with a copy of that one book every VW driver used to have. That’s not the right question—most practical knowledge is useful after all. The question should be “is it relevant to the way people live right now.” “How to Keep Your VW Alive” is a timeless fucking classic; my ex and I kept our copy long after he sold his VW. But I’m not buying a copy now because it won’t exactly help me keep my VW ID4 on the road.

And it’s funny, because I tend to read along with those posts and nod my head, because back in my day we HAD to know all that computer stuff. And then for some reason today, I remembered a conversation my mom and I had with my grandma in the mid 70s when I was a teenager. Grandma made my mom’s wedding dress. She worked at a department store doing alterations on foundation wear, which if you look at 1950s foundation wear, you’ll realize was both necessary and difficult. So she was shocked when I said most of my friends didn’t know their way around a sewing machine. “But how do you make sure your clothes fit?!” Well, Grandma, people don’t wear heavy foundation wear any more and clothes don’t need to be as tailored as they did back in the day—it’s 1975 and the only alterations I need to do is hemming my flares so they just touch the floor when I’m wearing platforms.

Now you can back up and look at the broader picture, the one that says, but your car should be repairable by you as long as you have clear instructions, and you should be able to alter your clothes or make your own, and yes, you should know how to organize the files on the desktop of your laptop. But the fact that for the most part it’s become easier and easier to just not do those things (if they can be done at all) isn’t exactly the fault of Kids Today. And it’s certainly not meeting them where they are or even trying to understand why they feel they don’t need that knowledge if, instead of looking at why they don’t have it and maybe even don’t need it, you just decry their lack of the Deep Wisdom.

[annymaght]

[sollucets]

Why do you have to manage everything by yourself?

[izzystizzys]

Fox tags along on a smuggling bust one (1) time and subsequently wishes he’d never been decanted.

Well, he’s arrested the perp a lot more than just one time, actually, but that very first tackle into a chokehold and electrocuffs more than sufficed to turn the fates against him - the fates, and Cody, the insufferable twat. They’re not actually even batchmates, the lot of them, and going by numbers Fox was decanted long before them (long as in seconds or minutes, no one actually knows), but Seventeen put them all in a training room together and then stupid kriffing Kote looked him up and down, nodded, and hasn’t stopped calling him vod’ika since.

“Why is one of the Republic’s most wanted criminals asking to speak to you, vod’ika?”, Cody asks, without any preamble, almost making Fox cut the holocall on principle. He would, if General Kenobi wasn’t right there next to the little shit. “And why do I not like his tone?”

Fox has to resist the urge to close his eyes and scream, making do with a deep sigh instead. Force curse the day Cody decided to adopt-nap him, and Wolffe following suit immediately. “Weequay, shifty eyes, stupid fucking pirate bandana?”

Cody’s eyes narrow suspiciously, and Kenobi’s eyebrows raise simultaneously. It’s more than a little creepy.

Fox rolls his eyes so hard he sees stars. “Tell him he can go space himself, unless he wants me to do it for him. And then tell him that if he sends me fuzzy fucking socks again I might just hunt him down and do it anyways.”

Past the slide of the door, Thorn’s unmistakable cackle reaches Fox. And Cody, going by the narrowing of his eyes. “Don’t tell him that, ori’vod, he’s probably into that”, Thorn calls out, gleefully, and Force Fox really should’ve kept this to himself in the first place.

He would’ve, actually, but the constant stream of strange presents into Guard headquarters is hard to miss. It was Alderaanian chocolates, last week, which Fox pawned off on the Shinies. A box from a store with a blacked out label before that, which he launched out the window with burning ears before Thire could get a closer look at it.

“Actually”, Thorn continues, happily, “I don’t think it matters much if you do tell him anything - it’s not like the Commander has been the most graceful courtée, and that hasn’t done anything to discourage our favorite smuggler.”

“Marshall Commander”, Fox hisses, because he’s a pissy bitch, and then, because all professionalism has gone out the window anyways, “This is why Stone is my favourite.”

Thorn’s wounded gasp is lost over Kenobi’s thoughtful hum, and Cody’s patented I’m-going-to-do-something-incredibly-stupid-and-you-can’t-stop-me glare. “That would explain why we have Hondo Ohnaka accosting our troopers about your flavour preferences concerning fruit candies. But the one asking to speak to you is Cad Bane, Marshall Commander.”

The string of curses Fox lets out at that is loud enough to have Mauler stick his head in the com room to ask if everything is alright, and Thorn roll on the floor with howling laughter.

Force curse the day he ever slapped electrocuffs on Hondo Ohnaka, and double-curse the one he threw Cad Bane to the floor with a scissor leg takedown.

[morganaconda]

[akalanthis]

angry space toad grandpa lost an ear