#and that she’s just devalueing the work i do for her in order to guilt trip me into doing even more

[bogreader]

my mother: “you need to do $450 worth of babysitting every month now for rent and if you don’t work that much i’m going to take the rest of the amount from your already broke bank account until you have no money left. i doubt your LAZY ASS will ever be able to work that much hehe 😜 which means i get to take all your money”

me: “fine i’ll play by your sick financially abusive terms. anyway i’ve done $800 worth of babysitting and the month isn’t even over yet. theoretically you owe me $350 now”

my mother: 😨

[archivalofsins]

You know what I'm about to do rent lowering gunshots.

I'm tired of feeling like I'm being held to some higher standard than the average fan just because of how I communicate my feelings on the series. It's tiring to feel like your words are constantly being scrutinized because of how they may impact or sway how the series goes. It's not a fun atmosphere to theorize under.

Plus, the Milgram fandom has a way of rewarding individuals that do less work and devaluing those who do more. Framing them as taking things too seriously, being harsh, or just not knowing how to have fun. While at the same time expecting those same individuals who put in that work sometimes spending days or weeks on a post to explain in depth why their favorite character or that one they hate should be Innocent or Guilty for them.

Yet these same people at other times really need to watch what they say because their words have more of an impact they should try to be kinder to the character or add more nuance to their discussion. Even if doing so compromises their genuine opinion or even how they process information.

It sucks to say because I do enjoy when people like my posts. I do enjoy when I get to talk about Milgram with other people and interacting with the fandom. Yet, I write the way I do in order to process my feelings and thoughts on a piece of media I care about. Milgram isn't special. I have a lot of things that I enjoy just as much and interact with in the same way.

Because I love stories. I love the characters in them. The process in which I digest information is starting off critical to get an objective view of the information and then looking into the emotional implications after. That's always been how I've looked at things. Even if I look at the emotional implications, there's no saying if I'll come out feeling the character is any less or more justified in their actions. Because even if that contextualizes what was done, it does not justify it in my eyes.

I care more about how the character feels about their actions than how it makes me feel. I can't tell others how they should live their life. If their circumstances are happy or sad. Just like I don't do that in my real life, I don't do it with media. I'm happy just letting the characters be the characters, whatever may come of that. That's how I have fun and I can have an opinion on that, sure.

Yet that opinion will always be malleable.

Not just because people have the right to change their minds but because characters in a narrative have the right to develop. They can change for better or worse. Even if the character is static, when more information is revealed about them, the audiences opinion of them can and may change. That's only natural.

At the same time, how the audience engages with a character can impact how said character is perceived and received on a larger scale. This fact heavily impacted the trials of Mu and Kotoko during the second season of Milgram.

It certainly wasn't the only reason that they received such high guilty percentages. However, it played a larger role in it than most people are willing to look into.

Let's talk about

Guilt By Association

Merriam-Webster: Moral guilt or unfitness presumed to exist on the basis of one's known associations.

the doctrine of guilt by association has on occasion been used to brand as currently disloyal persons who at some past time had been members of an organization not known to be or considered subversive at the time they were members

Dictionary: The attribution of guilt to individuals because of the people or organizations with which they associate, rather than because of any crime that they have committed.

Guilt by association has been alluded to through Mu already and is highlighted more heavily through her answer to question eighteen trial two.

Q.18 Do you regret anything?

Mu: I think maybe I should have chosen my friends a bit more carefully.

Through this statement Mu shows that she believes her affiliations are why she wound up in the situation she's in. This is also supported by the line,

"If you want to betray from jealousy."

Something that implies the people she knew were envious of her status and out to take her spot. This is illustrated to be the case in After Pain as well through imagery like this,

Showing her friends, not her victim, icing her out. Along with the flipping of the hourglass, which can allude to her going from being on top to being on the bottom. As we see in It's Not My Fault, Mu's position in the hourglass has switched from drowning at the bottom to being at the top.

Now, getting the room to breathe that she wanted and escaping from that glass.

It's also shown through the board that her association with her victim before she died is weaponized against her after the victim passes away. As it's filled with speculation about how Mu is the reason her victim died and she's only getting away with due to her parents,

"Just benefits from her parents"

Another association she's implied to be taking advantage of.

Kotoko is the same way relying on groups and the support of weaklings to get things done. All while saying she has everything, she's the solution, she's got it all figured out. She just needs the weaklings around her to shut up an let themselves be protected by her.

You see that, though?

She needs weaklings to let her protect them. She needs to make a deal to feel special and necessary. She needs this dichotomy more than the weaklings around her do. Just like Mu needs those she views as lesser to constantly feed her ego.

They need associations, for those around them to see the merit in their existence, and validate them being here just like Shidou. Because they can't figure that out for themselves. They need to grasp through actions the things that they can solidly do and provide.

"I overheard, I found out How much I’m not needed."

22/07/05 (Mu’s Birthday)

Mu: Hey~~~ Isn’t everyone a bit gloomy lately? I get that this situation isn’t ideal, but you’re really bringing down the mood for my birthday.

Yuno: Haha, surely even you can tell now’s not really the time for something like that right. Nobody’s really in the mood, or rather nobody has time time to deal with something like that.

Mu: Boo, how boring. You seem to be free, you can celebrate for me. Go on, celebrate.

Yuno: Wow, what a pain. I’m reading the atmosphere properly and keeping quiet. Well, you just go and have fun with Haruka. In the corner somewhere so you’re out of everyone’s way.

"There’s no special meaning, I got the short end of the stick."

"Tock-tock… tells me, the reason it’s ok to be here. Won’t disappear even if I stop-"

"The love that won't perish."

"“Throw down” connecting you with me, to keep you alive, you are still living." - "Lying, replacing with hope."

"“Throw down” it’s ok, that’s enough. Can’t stay away. Please don’t forgive me. That’s why I want this to end “Throw down”."

"The person that can’t be saved, is now understanding the abnormality."

"It’s ok to dislike, right? Losing it, losing it, what should I hope for?"

"“UNDER” Doltish, a codependency of the weak. “UNDER” Obscene, pulling all cords to stay warm."

"So ridiculous, isn’t it ridiculous? Bringing back the cocky hero again? How embarrassing."

I think it's very telling that while these lines are sung the only one reflected or shown in the scene is Kotoko herself and these are all lines that can be applied to her. She has a codependency on the weak because she needs to save them to validate herself and they need saving by her in turn.

It's the same dichotomy that she attempts to enforce with Es as soon as she gets to Milgram. Something she clearly attempts to get more out of later without putting much more in. As she doesn't give Es more information on Milgram, the prisoners, or even attempt to be on good terms with the others enough in order to uphold her end of the bargain she made despite assuming the deal was accepted.

Along with citing the deal as the reason she's totally allowed to jump people because that is the offer she made Es actually and there was never another one,

"Guard-san. No... Es. Don't you want to join forces with me? I think the two of us would make good partners."

Join... forces with you?

"With you, in the role of prison guard with the information you gather from interrogations, and me, in the role of prisoner with the information I gather from my daily life here... Working together and sharing our findings what do you think?"

Your hand...? What are you trying to say?

"Let's shake hands. We will become companions."

The two of us...companions?

"When the time comes, Es, let me be your fangs."-"Come on, rely on me, go on."

"I want a reason for judgment execution, I want it."

"So make yourselves my reason."

Mu, Shidou, and Kotoko all use others to fuel their actions. To tell them it's okay to be where they are and act how they are. Sometimes even to the point of blaming others for how they respond in certain situations.

"[GIGGLE] It's your fault for doing horrible things to me."

"You're in my way...hurry up and die."

"From the beginning I've never asked for your understanding! My actions, one by one, are bringing earth closer to peace. Useless weaklings should just shut up and let me protect them!"

They push themselves through their associations and the connections that they form. To the extent of it being detrimental their own Achilles hill. Because if they're validated by those around them they'll just start leaping over boundaries. Even if they weren't validated by that much.

We see that with Mu here after her verdict,

21/07/05 (Mu’s Birthday)

Mu: Yuno. Don’t you have something to say to me?

Yuno: Huh? To you? Me? ……ahh, uh? Your birthday, right?

Happy birthday~

Mu: How mean… Since it’s my birthday, I really wish you’d said something before I had to come and tell you myself.

Yuno: Right, right, I’m sorry. I’ll be more careful in future~ Later! Haha… things have become even more of a bother… ……so was that Mu-chan’s real personality, then? It’s probably because the guard did something, right?

Q.11 Which of the other prisoners do you get along with least?

Yuno: I wonder- The ones that are painful just to watch are Haruka and Mu-chan.

20/06/04

Yuno: Huh, so you go to that high school. So you are from a rich family then~! I mean, you already gave off that vibe, though. What year are you in?

Mu: First year…… Kashiki… san…… you’re older than me, right?

Yuno: Yeah, I’m in third year. But you can just call me Yuno, I don’t really like the stuffy formalities. It doesn’t really matter who’s older and who’s younger. If you squint, we’re basically the same age anyway.

Mu: ……fufu, what’s with that? But ok…… I’ll call you Yuno from now on.

"I won't be bothered...."

Just like the characters can get annoyed with each other for being annoying the fans can get annoyed with each other for the same reason and act on it with their votes. If fans of a particular character are being obnoxious, harassing others, being dismissive of or belittling the feelings of others within the fandom then some fans will decide to use their votes to do something about it instead of engaging with bad actors in good faith.

This is how individuals who went around parading like they were the only true fans ended up ruining their favorite characters reputations more. Because no one needs to explain to another person why their behavior is wrong or hurtful when they can just do something that will tangibly and passively enforce that belief anyway.

No one has to decide to vote based on the character alone when said characters fans have done something to hurt that individual personally. Milgram allows fans to vote for any reason and that includes to spite other fans who have wronged them personally. No one has to go high when others continually go low.

Personally I was waiting for the end of the trial to really discuss this facet of Milgram voting as not to impact how others decided to behave. Because yes Milgram as a series doesn't say anything about the people who consume it. It's a neutral piece of media. However, the way individuals choose to treat people in real life because of Milgram does reflect on them.

The series is not forcing anyone to behave towards other people in the ways that they have and a difference in opinion on a piece of fiction isn't an excuse to treat anyone as less than someone else. People can disagree with someone without diminishing their personhood or making assumptions about their character or values.

Just as people can just not talk about something if they don't wish to hear other people's opinions on it or have a genuine discussion about it. People could have actually engaged with the stories of Mu and Kotoko in an authentic way. Instead of making in poor taste jokes, victim blaming, racially motivated remarks, xenophobic statements, mass reporting people, and sending emotionally manipulative dms to people they quite frankly don't know enough about (or even the ages of) for that to be appropriate in any way- Though even if they did that would not have made responding in that way anymore appropriate but they probably might have thought a bit more before speaking.

The behavior of certain people in fandom is honestly why the phrase,

"You forget yourself." Exists.

And I'm speaking about across all platforms through every demographic that Milgram has reached not just Twitter, or any specific nationality of fans. Some of the behavior I've not only seen but been subjected to makes me miss talking about stuff with people in high school.

I'm American there should never be an instance considering how much shit other nationalities like talk about Americans online (most warranted) that I'm sitting here like naw this shit is out of fucking pocket I gotta go to a comic book store or find an anime club talk to some other people in my area about this. Fucking even just call a friend.

Like one of the comforts I've personally gained from experiencing Milgram is knowing full and well most of the populaces of other countries aren't as different from Americans as they like to believe they are and these two trials really embody that and were so sobering really.

Mu's actions could have been contextualized without framing her victim as doing something to deserve to die, headcanoning them as half black for laughs, using right-wing buzzwords, or even the amount off people specifically going people outside of Japan shouldn't be allowed to vote this is because of those westerners.

It's not a difficult thing to contextualize what happened without doing all that. The people who discussed this in those ways were just bad communicators. They didn't know how else to articulate themselves and hell, maybe some even thought they were actually being so funny really. Because it's fun to make fun of the very real plights of bipoc individuals and conservatism when it doesn't impact oneself personally right.

Yet associating that with Mu would only do more to damage her reputation, not help it. Because now some people may not see it as disagreeing or agreeing with Mu but the bigoted tactics of her supporters. Then we're right back at guilt by association. It's bigger than her at that point. To some people, it's not even about her or what she did anymore.

The same thing impacted Kazui's trial.

Since people wanted to highlight him speculatively being gay as a moral failing and one person was bribing people and creating superstitions in order to get him guilty. It was no longer about his trial in Milgram but more so about what it represented in reality now. The sort of message it would support if he was guilty and how that personally impacted fans.

It was the same with Amane.

They managed to scrape by an innocent verdict because these issues mattered to the people who were discussing them, and they treated them like they should matter. Neither of those were easy feats they weren't simple sweeps like any of the other verdicts this trial. They tested convictions. There were some things to discuss there.

Yet with Mu, she was treated as though there was nothing to discuss. It was game over before the starting bell even rang. So, people joked about it, threw tantrums, reduced the entirety of feminism to the idea that actually women can never do anything wrong ever, actually so there. It's not surprising that no one really wanted to engage or cared enough to try to push the verdict in another direction.

It definitely didn't help that Haruka was voted Guilty earlier in the trial and a lot of people really framed giving him that verdict as creating a circumstance in which we could vote Mu at our own discretion later without the threat of him hurting himself over our head because he'd be restrained. She was set up to fail by people more concerned about how dangerous Haruka could be to her, himself, and others if he was validated again.

People who used the idea of Haruka being guilty to go if we do that then we don't even really have to worry about making Mu innocent. Something people ran with even though they had no evidence he'd be restrained. But then, when people tried to cite Haruka's threat as a good reason to vote Mu innocent later.

Guilt by association and spite came in again. People cited the first level of restraint and him being guilty as reason enough to vote however you want. Hell, I was one of those people.

Mu was at the least fifteen when she committed her crime. It was a heat of the moment thing. She clearly and consistently has shown remorse over it. Still a good deal of her fans would rather make fun of the real societal ills that some people in the fandom face on the regular basis in a haphazard attempt to be funny than actually try to make a case for her. How can anyone be surprised she was that guilty?

Now, I feel a certain way about Kotoko's "real" fans.

The environment wasn't right for her to be innocent, and the people who liked her the most contributed to the atmosphere that ultimately led to her fall from grace. Leaving her with a guilty verdict only rivaled by Kotoko's.

That can only be explained by the knowledge I've been looping the song Not Like Us for several weeks and feeling more catharsis than I've felt in a while. Like an excessive amount of catharsis. Like it's fucked up because I really listened to every track involved in that entire beef, have been watching analysis and reactions to it and literally went yeah I did need to hear a guy get verbally obliterated really bad this year. Fucking that song and Euphoria oh my god needed that.

Tell me how the fuck a fan base of one character has several months in advance to make a case for that character and still fails? Make it make sense.

Real fans? I'm sorry real fans show up- As soon as that voice drama dropped and she said she hit kids y'all gave up. Just like a good bit of Mu's fans never even wanted to consider that she was a bully a good deal of Kotoko's fans took the I do not see it approach.

I only had a fucking snippet of Mikoto's voice drama and wrote ten speculative paragraphs on it. Her fans had the whole fucking voice drama, translations, the cover, the song, the instrumental and what did they do with it?

Alright, how'd did not talking about that work out for them?

Oh yeah they GATEKEPT it! Tag it this way, tag it that way, spoilers, spoilers, that's a leak not an official release. Milgram gives you the advantage of a several month release difference between the cd, the mv, and the official start of the trial and Kotoko's real fans did nothing with that time I guess.

They went we don't see that shit. That's a leak, that's a spoiler, don't talk about it.

Where'd it get them-

Damn girl, your fans let you have a verdict that low- What you do?

I didn't even know verdicts got that low. My god- Kotoko had it so fucking bad that Mu fans were gunning to make her more guilty than Mu. They started going she can't be more Innocent than Mu that'd be ridiculous. Bro how?!

Like I understand the reasoning, but again, several months that none of the fans of any other character had. Everybody else here that was a fan of a certain character had to get to making a case for said character the day the mv dropped. Without a translated voice drama at times.

Getting slapped with translated voice drama facts mid trial. It's ridiculous she should not be this guilty with the fucking clear advantage she very much was given. No damage control, no attempts to contextualize or even speculate on her behavior until like the middle of the trial really?! And then not even on their own just mostly passive aggressive responses to the points of other people. They can't make their own points they can only combat and rip off others.

Oh, and then the mass insinuation that people who don't understand Kotoko just aren't traumatized enough. Real good way to continually lose allies while showing people how unserious and inconsiderate others are willing to be. Oh, or victim blaming the child what did the fucking kidnapping victim do to betray Kotoko.

Because safety of children only matters when it can be used to support Kotoko's actions but the moment she's yelling at useless weaklings it's suddenly what did that child do? Just like the Mu fans trying to find a way to go well this is why her hypothetical victim deserved to die actually.

At least with Haruka a lot of what went into his verdict was genuine concern for the character and other characters safety. For Mu and Kotoko it's difficult to tell if their verdicts were even fully about what they did in the narrative or the fanbase just being fucking annoyed with the actions of others who labeled themselves as fans of the theirs.

That's the power of Guilt by Association.

Yuno: I wonder- The ones that are painful just to watch are Haruka and Mu-chan.

I don't gotta like your fucking friend because I already know I don't like you! I'm not going to like them because fuck them and fuck you. Plus vice versa what a good friend/associate you've got there. I didn't know you hung around those type of people I'd personally never hangout with people like that. All fucking things Yuno and Jackalope said to Es about their partnership with Kotoko.

Let me highlight this again for the people that don't get it in the back-

What did Haruka do other than hang out with Mu and through association he's annoying Yuno just as much. Sadly, that's just how it works. Another person can ruin someone's reputation simply through associating with them. I know some fans have been assuming certain individuals who theorize about Milgram all speak to each other and have simply been blocking individuals that seem to be on good terms with each other or vice versa (following people in the fandom who are on good terms with each other).

So, the last thing I'm personally going to do in a situation where what I want to happen is dependent on more individuals than myself working together towards that outcome is create an us vs. them environment. That's kind of counterintuitive to what I not only personally want to accomplish long-term but how I want to live in general.

The only thing behaving that way does is diminish the chances of anyone understanding another persons point, taking said point seriously, or believing that the person speaking is a considerate and respectful individual. As the person doing this usually creates a circumstance where people know full and well that this individual doesn't like them, what they are working towards isn't for them, and the person doing this probably believes that anyone else's feelings aren't important and views others voicing said opinions as a threat.

So of course when met with that sort of hostility I'm going to choose not to write anything that will help, placate, or support the ideas or views of people that are treating other real people poorly.

Oh, why was the fandom so mean to Mu and Kotoko?

In response a good few others may simply ask,

Why were some fans so cruel while still expecting others to not only make their points for them but change their mind after taking their feelings into more consideration? Despite them not once taking into consideration the feelings of others.

The level of entitlement some of the full grown adults in this fandom have to other people's ability to express themselves properly instead of working on their own communication skills.... Well, some people never see mirrors is another thing I've learned from this experience.

I'm gonna be straight with people I don't give a fuck about what the characters do in Milgram. Milgram isn't real. I do and will continue to care about how people in the real world treat others. I will get annoyed and upset when individuals in any fandom start making what I'm doing for my own personal enjoyment more difficult or the lives of others I care about worse.

All because they have no respect or consideration for anyone outside of themselves.

That's not being a true a fan that's just being a cruel person. If I or anyone else uses the only means the audience is given to interact with the series/have their voices heard to be spiteful that's just as much a part of Milgram as any other reason people have to vote. The series has always let fans choose how, why, and if they vote on the prisoners. Regardless of if it has to do with the character personally or not.

Kotoko and Mu's trial are the perfect example of this in my opinion,

In the trial two commencement notice Jackalope implied this trial would in a way be testing the cooperation skills of the fanbase. Mu and Kotoko both foreshadowed and highlighted this the best in their second voice dramas and before them. They knew that in order to succeed in Milgram they needed help. They needed the favor of others, comrades, people that valued them enough to stand by them and take into consideration their concerns over anyone else's.

When that was shown to be at risk Mu tried to work with everyone by suggesting Es just vote everyone Innocent. Then no one would singled out and her safety would be secured as well. Plus, forgiving everyone now would set a precedent of well if I was able to forgive the last thing how is this really that different. At a point, the audience would just be in too deep. In a cycle of if I can excuse this than I can really excuse anything- Does it really matter let's all just have fun and not think too hard.

It sets a mood of if it didn't matter then than it doesn't matter now.

While Kotoko on the other hand was just being like trust me be concerned with me and my feelings. Not the others. They're not like you and I Es we're,

"Let's shake hands. We will become companions."

A crime is a crime, sin is sin that's not going to change. You and I aren't like the others here though.

Just hate their evil behavior for what it is and rely on me. We're the only people we've got in here the prisoners don't like you and they don't like me. Placating them would be a waste of everyone's time. Just leave these tough calls to me.

At the end of the day, Kotoko and Mu both recognized that as much as they say, they have everything and can do it on their own... They cannot they need packs and swarms. Then their fans gave us a perfect example of why the fuck that's the case.

Yeah, I feel bad for Kotoko and Mu fans but I'm not going to mislead myself into believing how some of them publicly and privately behaved towards others within this fandom didn't put them where they ended up.

I could defend Kotoko and Mu publicly. I really could. I do so in private just fine. However, a good deal of their fans made it clear that's not my fight because they labeled me as the person they're fighting against. Unlike Futa I know how to only mind the business which minds me. No, thank you that's none of my concern. Because I've been shown through the actions of others my feelings wouldn't be given the same consideration I extend to the feelings of others.

So, why bother?

I'm not saying this to rub anything in. I'm saying this to go how people in this fandom behave impacts how the characters they openly like are treated. That too is a part of Milgram. That too is a bias that we should all take into consideration before trial three.

It's a common bias as well. It's only natural that if one has a friend that's like a certain character and they trust and care deeply about that friend then they'll probably be more inclined to vote that character innocent. If an artist you follow really likes a character and is lamenting that their verdict isn't going how they want you may feel inclined to change your verdict or if you really can't agree with changing your verdict you may even stop following that artist or fan.

These are just natural reactions.

However, the things we do as fans- The way we treat others will impact how this experience goes for all of us. Regardless of if we personally think it's fair of people to let those interactions impact how they vote or interact with the media itself. Others may still take that into consideration when making their decision because all of us are human. Yes, objectively, these should be two different things. People can like something and still dislike the fans of that thing for one reason or another.

Still it's reasonable and natural for someone to begin having muddled feelings about a idea or character when the way they interact with said idea is continually scrutinized by people who also claim to like it. At a point it may just become easier to for some to go I can't be the sort of fan this environment is expecting me to be but I can still be the sort of fan that I am and makes me happy personally. If someone has been bothered by other fans to egregious extents then they decide to vote a character guilty to get back at those fans that's a personal choice and I honestly believe it's a fair and valid thing to do.

Even without Milgram supporting any reason the audience votes. Spites honestly a great motivator. So, people can fuck around and find out I guess. Oh, wait people already fucked around I suppose we're at the find out part now huh?

I personally have never cared if things don't go my way in any of the media I'm engaging in. I'm here for the experience. I know it sucks to not get ones way. For things to turn out differently from how one wanted them to. Yet, honestly some of the people in this fandom need to calm down.

Especially if the people behaving like this are over the age of eighteen. Bro I like Terra from Kingdom Hearts a character that gets far more flack than anyone in Milgram. I'm a Damian Wayne fan. I read comics, I'm a comics fan. I've seen worse takes it should never get so serious that people are going the extra mile to harass people after they're blocked.

This is a genuine warning; please stop doing this.

I would have liked for Kotoko and Mu's verdicts to have been more of a battle. However, they were both the most disappointing trials of season 2 to me. No one could even defend them without stooping to emotionally manipulative and silencing tactics. None of the discussions around them were even a fraction of as thought provoking as the other characters trials to me.

I left feeling like Kotoko at the end of this interaction,

20/06/06

Futa: Ahh…… This is really pissing me off. I can’t believe they won’t let us have computers or phones here…… Don’t they understand our human rights? I’m gonna ask them for better treatment.

Kotoko: Human rights for murderers, huh…… Well, it’s not like there aren’t facilities that are like that. For example, in Norway, the Halden Prison allows its prisoners access to computers. Not only do their cells not have iron bars locking them in, but apparently they’re even allowed to return to their houses and go out shopping. Even compared to this place, it’s very lax. But as a result, the rate of second offence in Norway is the lowest in the world……

Kotoko: ……I’m the idiot for expecting to get a reasonable debate here.

Futa: Ahh. Yeah, Norway! The famous thing they have there! It just shows they respect their prisoners’ rights. On that point, you can really tell Japan is lagging behind the rest of the world. Because all our politicians here are just idiots.

That's the worst part of it- all that hate for something that wasn't even entertaining. Well, that's how Milgram is... Losers exit stage left indeed.

[sapphire-weapon]

i think it's totally cool to enjoy leon and ashley as a platonic dynamic. but the whole "sibling coded" take really rubs me the wrong way bc it feels like it's used as a way to devalue their relationship? especially by a certain subset of shippers. they can't deny that leon and ashley have a strong bond and are clearly very important to each other, but they can make it less of a "threat" by insisting that canon portrays them as "totally platonic siblings" when that is not the case at all

It's modern fandom's way of engaging in casual misogyny in a socially acceptable way. Ashley's not allowed to have her own sexual agency, despite literally asking Leon to fuck her in OG.

There are so many kids in modern-day fandom who just wish they were back in my generation's days of outright calling a female character a slut and wishing death on her because she gets in the way of a ship. Oh dear lord do they wish they were still in those days.

But those days are long gone and they know they'll get jumped on for saying shit like that, so suddenly they just decide one day that they'll read the relationship as "found family" without understanding what the found family trope actually is, just so that they can turn it into "sibling/incest" discourse. Or they make up some fantasy about how the 7-year age gap is "problematic" when literally anyone who goes outside and engages with society in the real world would call that fucking insane.

And I've said it before and I'll say it again: reading Leon and Ashley as siblings is just an incorrect interpretation of Leon, and you are misunderstanding his character on a fundamental level if you interpret him this way.

Leon is the Protector archetype. That's literally what's at the core of his entire character arc. He fights for a government he doesn't trust in ways he doesn't believe in, because he has to in order to protect somebody (Sherry).

That's still fucking true after RE4. It doesn't just go away. That's literally the reason why he turns down Ashley's proposal to become her security detail. He can't do that, because he still has to dance to the gov't's tune, because he still has to worry about them possibly hurting Sherry if he doesn't.

And if Leon really felt like Ashley was family -- the way that he feels Sherry is family? He would never have cut her out of his life post-RE4. That's not who he is. He is a Protector with a need to protect, and he's stubborn as fuck about it and won't ask for help.

Sure, Leon can't emotionally bring himself to actually have a relationship with Sherry because of the crippling, overwhelming guilt he feels... but he still checks on her. Even if she doesn't know it, he's still watching over her, still making sure she's okay.

He doesn't do that for Ashley.

Because Ashley isn't family.

Ashley was someone who got too close, so he pushed her away. Just like he did to Claire in her RE3 epilogue and again at the end of ID. And he's trying to do the same thing to Chris, but Chris is somehow more stubborn than Leon is, even, so it's not working.

Men and women can be just friends. It's not one or the other -- romance or family. Sometimes? They're just friends. And canonically? That's what Leon and Ashley are. They're friends. Until he pushes her away, just like he did all his other friends (except Chris who's more immovable than the boulder he punched into a volcano). And she won't be the last person he does it to, either. It's just how he is.

[togglessymposium]

In the empirical sciences, one of the immoderacies that can cause you problems is to hold on to a theory too strongly.  It's not an uncommon failure mode, especially in career scientists that have been established for many decades.  The problem isn't so much that you dismiss contrary data- everybody has to do that at least a little, the world is chaos and our senses are unreliable.  The deeper problem comes in when the interpretive process starts and ends with the theory that is 'obviously true', and all your experiences get filtered through that lens.  To stay sharp in the sciences, you need to see before you understand, and always be ready to adapt a (necessarily) flawed or incomplete theory, or change reference frames to a cognitive structure that makes better predictions than the old one.  You have to stay humbled by the world exposed to you (however imperfectly) through those senses, and to at least some degree subordinate your neurons to it, or else you're never gonna learn anything at all.

Love is much the same, no?  The failure mode that OP and others are discussing is not a deficit of well-wishing.  Rather, it is a failure to elevate the individual person of concern and our direct, particular experiences with them; it's the subordination of the relationship to a theory and ideology of human nature.  In our deepest relationships, we have the opportunity to value people intrinsically, on their own terms and for their own sake- and this is an extraordinary chance for us to grow as persons, because there are certain lessons about the world around us that we can only learn from that place.

(One of my favorite things I noticed recently is that giving my boyfriend a cookie pings my own brain's reward centers almost like I was eating it myself.  It's a real weird feeling.)

Christians in particular are heavily discouraged from doing this kind of thing.  There's a huge body of Christian literature about caritas, about agape, care for others that's selfless and self-sacrificing, and that shouldn't be dismissed.  But the Christian attitude towards the epistemics of love, well, that's comparatively impoverished.  It begins and ends with the old Platonic ideal of using particular affections to reflect and articulate the Good, and if it innovates on the theme at all, it's mostly by way of Paul's "better not to get married if you can, we need to get ready for the apocalypse."  Specific, deep interhuman connections are devalued in favor of adoration of the divine; to point towards the obvious, virginity and a lack of engagement with the messy realities of marriage, romance, or parenthood is seen as an advantage for priests and a source of holiness, not a type of ignorance.

And with good reason!  To value a person in themselves, to take them as they are and to ask only what is next for them, what is good for them, is an incredible danger to anyone's universal doctrine of the good.  That kind of love is the great anarchist of the human experience, a psychohazard of the highest order.  Being confronted with the experiential reality of a single human person and being humbled by it, like the scientist in their lab, places every theory of human nature in jeopardy.  Best not to risk it!  Not with the apocalypse so soon, not with heaven so near...

In C.S. Lewis' The Great Divorce, there's an interesting moment when a (sainted) woman confronts her former husband.  She avidly attempts to 'convert' him to a clear understanding of the divine reality, so that he can join her in heaven; in turn, he tries to guilt and emotionally manipulate her into going to hell with him, for his sake.  But when it's clear that he won't ever join her in heaven, she just walks away, pain-free.  It's heaven, after all, and as Lewis says more or less directly, it wouldn't be heaven for her if that kind of emotional blackmail worked.

And that is, I think, the sour note at the center of this particular facet of religious discourse, the contradiction you guys are trapped with.  You're instructed to love others, but not to leave yourself vulnerable.  What a trap!  However deep the Christian literature about charity, however well that's sometimes expressed in actual practice, however capable Christians are of sacrificing their material well-being for the sake of others- and they really, commendably are, sometimes- we both know that it wasn't your material well-being that you really valued in the first place.  You never actually put it all on the line, for the real and true meaning of it.  You stayed secure, played it safe, assured your own orthodoxy.  You let the people around you emerge into your awareness only as stamped-out instances of a theory of human nature, not as the things from which your knowledge of humanity grows.  And so you’ll always be less capable than you otherwise would, and often fall prey to the procrustean error, a hacking away at the people you love in a desperate convulsion to make the data fit the doctrine.

I said this a couple years ago (one year ago?) and most of the comments on tumblr actually did not know this, so to reiterate what you’re up against: a VERY mainstream belief among American Christian fundamentalists is that they are the only ones who experience love. They raise their kids to think that everyone “living in sin” (all other faiths, atheists, and LGBT people) goes through life sad and empty, falsely believing they know what love feels like, and will never know until they’re “saved.” It’s not as simple as them diminishing the humanity of others out of hate, but being deeply brainwashed to believe others are automatically mentally less human. They are also very good at convincing new converts that they really are experiencing this “real” love for the “first time;” the same way members of all cults can become wholeheartedly convinced that they’re receiving psychic alien messages or communing with spirits. Cult conditioning is simply that powerful.

[penelope1597]

Osblain week 2021

Day 6

June appreciation

I’ve loved June throughout these 4 seasons. I think Moss’s portrayal of June has been nothing short of perfect. I find her relatable. I connect with her emotions and I understand her decisions.

The first reaction to the situations on this show are pretty much “I would never do this, or I’d rather die before I was forced to do this” but the truth is it’s very easy to type these kinds of feelings from the comfort of our phone/computer screens. If we really put ourselves within her fictional situation I think things would be different.

Survival and the need to protect your loved ones is strong, making people make questionable choices they wouldn’t do in normal circumstances. Her character journey has been for me a perfect example of how any of us would rise and fall, make grave mistakes and have an all consuming internal battle within ourselves. She’s not a super hero. She’s a woman and a mother like some of us.

I love that she’s flawed from the get go. I love that she has this innocent, happy and free spirit that Gilead slowly has to break and she has to allow for it to get broken in order to fight and survive. Seeing her slowly lose herself and become like them is painful but it’s also strengthening. I remember a lot of people hated her season 3 journey but I got it. She had to loose herself in order to become what she needed to keep going. She lost everything, Gilead took everything from her so she had nothing to lose. She was raw, detached, mean. But you saw that other side of her sometimes come through. This season in particular with her interactions with Jeanine you see the old June peak through the cracks and the wall she’s had to put up.

But her strength is what captivated me. Her defiance, her little acts at first like talking back, her quirky responses. Her ability to manipulate Fred, the way she quickly learned how to work with Lawrence.

Her anger, her rage, her stubbornness and her determination

Her killer instinct for those that fucking treat her like less than, those that devalue her for being a woman, for not being submissive to the men that need to feel powerful.

The strength that helped her grow into this fearless woman with a purpose. This is one of my favorite scenes. Her task was done, she did it. She did something against the system that took so much from her, took a risk tried to make a change. She didn’t care if she died.

And it got solidified with this scene in season 4. Making sure she got her friends to safety. The same friends that risked themselves because they believed in her. She didn’t do this thinking she’d be the leader she simply wanted to fuck GILEAD.

The same friends she lost and I could see her guilt eating at her from the inside.

Watching her struggle in Canada was hard. But I figured it was impossible for her to go back to who she was. She said it herself, she missed Offred, certain things, her strength.

But I know she’s not lost, she’s just forever changed. And I hope she finds the peace she deserves.

[fantasyinvader]

The way Hamefura has been evolving once it surpassed the original web novel is interesting, to say the least. Like, I’ve read up until volume 7 at this point and there’s really this unsettling element to it.

Like, in the original story events like those in Fortune Lover would play out despite how Katarina changed. This could be explained away with the use of dark magic and Sirius wanting to get rid of her fine. But the problem is that following that, a sequel is announced as part of the continued story and the novels work towards that sequel happening. Katarina being kidnapped? Puts Sora where he was needed to be for the sequel (plus, how it possibly happened to Maria). Keith being kidnapped gets Katarina a dark familiar. Volume 5 is filler, but Vol 6 starts the FL2 plot and has Katarina and Maria both gain magic tools that increase their powers. Now in Vol 7, they each get covenants like their game counterparts did and Maria is commenting on how it feels like the universe is trying to take Katarina away.

I kinda have this theory. The universe IS trying to rerail the Fortune Lover universe after the, let’s just call it the Katarina Ending for Maria. It was an ending that wasn’t supposed to happen. Since magic is involved, the universe began affecting Japan leading to the creation of a sequel which devalued the endings of the first game (except, possibly, the harem ending). It also, possibly, prevented Monkey Girl from dying if Acchan’s comment about telling “her” about Fortune Lover 2 is to hold any weight. Maybe the Hamefura-universe made it intervene in Monkey Girl’s death in other timelines?

Light and Dark magic have been referred to as two sides of the same coin. Light magic is used to heal wounds, but dark magic according to spoilers can achieve similar results. Dark magic is supposed to manipulate emotions that are already there, but spoilers say Maria can make people feel things like guilt. Considering the covenants both use the same hidden magic tool to unlock their full power, perhaps it points to them being the same magic approached from different angles. We know the dark magic orb says that Katarina can drown the world in it, but who is to say that the light magic orb is that benevolent?

I feel like adding to this is how the franchise seems to hint that something was up in Fortune Lover. Maria makes herself out to be someone who only looked after herself and keep people at arm’s length, which could explain her questionable actions in the first game and how the game doesn’t give insight into her own problems. FL Katarina is shown to have friends and some lines seem to indicate she’s not so different from her counterpart. Geordo dislikes his grandfather for abusing his power to have a harem yet would abuse his power to get rid of his fiancee and woo Maria. Part of Hamefura has always been there was more to the characters than the game made them out to be, and I’ve long since stopped taking the game as this ultimate authority on them.

So what I think is going to happen in the end is it’s going to be revealed that the magic controls people to an extent, taking away their free will to some extent and pushes them to act out certain roles. Roles that would follow the plot of the game, and when Katarina remembered her past life she freed herself from this which had a ripple effect (Wild Monkey vs. Maria’s Wild Butterfly) it disrupted this. Maria’s “victory” is likely tied to maintaining this, and when she went down a different path the magic instead used it’s power to create the sequel in Japan and prevent other versions of the Monkey girl from dying. In the end, it’s going to be about free will and Katarina fighting to forever be rid of the villainess title that the universe seems to want to hang over her. And part of that is her realizing that Maria wasn’t really so much of a heroine in Fortune Lover, more a damaged teenage girl who would cling to whomever would show her attention and would do anything in order to have her own happy ending.

[ilvero-love]

1.13 Summer Solstice: Thoughts on MFMM 1.13 King Memses Curse

The evolution of Jack and Phryne across Season 1

The heart of this episode is about Phryne and the resolution of her backstory and that is as it should be. Yet, when considering this episode, I cannot do it without looking at the evolution of the relationship between Phryne and the Inspector that has occurred over the previous 13 episodes.

In many ways, the relationship we have watched evolve, continues as per usual in this episode. Jack attempting to lay down the rules and Phryne defying them. The difference in their characters is beautifully revealed through Jack’s determination to get a handle on the Foyle case. He is calm and methodical as he revisits all prior evidence in a logical order on his butcher’s paper wall. Meanwhile, Phryne, understandably, is running on instinct and emotion.

The scene where Jack attempts to control Phryne by arresting her is a delightful revelation. Stunned that Jack would attempt to curtail her in this way, she kicks him leading to the charge of assaulting a police officer being added to withholding evidence as he locks her away for her own safety.

I love that our spirited heroine kicks Jack just as much as I love Hugh apologising “I’m sorry Miss, I’m sorry Miss” as he carries her to the cells.

Phryne’s distress as she realises she is trapped in a cell while two people she loves (Jack and Jane) are in danger is hard to watch. It is lightened by Hugh ‘assisting’ Dottie to break Phryne out. 

Having given herself to Foyle in an attempt to save Jack and Jane, it is actually Jack and Jane who come to her rescue. 

And who didn’t swoon as Jack carried our unconscious heroine from the building? 

But it is the closing scenes that are the most compelling when considering Jack and Phryne’s relationship. The scene at the graveside is one of the most intense of the series and it is fitting that Jack stands by Phryne’s side.

There is a gorgeous moment, almost lost within the scene, that subtly consolidates Jack’s importance to Phryne. As she sits by the graveside crying, it is Jack she reaches for. 

At a time of deep despair, she reaches for the man who has stood beside her as she sought to solve the mystery of her sister. It was this simple, understated act that confirmed for me that this pairing was at the heart of the series. 

Whilst Kerry Greenwood may not have wanted her literary character Phryne to be tied down to any man, thankfully our writers/producers saw an opportunity to develop one of the great love stories.  This simple clasping of hands brings together two characters that, whilst on the surface appear disparate, when one looks at them as the sum of parts across the 13 episodes, it is undeniable that they are the yin to each other’s yang. But I’ll come back to that point soon.

The final scenes at Phryne’s party only serve to reinforce the pairing. There has been a decided shift in their relationship. What Jack and Phryne have shared has forged a bond that goes beyond physical attraction. There is no teasing, just a deep connection. Importantly, there is no judgement. Jack recognises the role the loss of Janey has played in the development of Phryne’s character and he acknowledges it, saying to her, “You owe it to her to keep living to the hilt”. Jack and Phryne are lost in each other’s gaze, as if both are aware of the shift in their relationship. 

I’d like to think this is the moment Phryne recognises that Jack is a man who may just allow her to be herself, free from the confines of societal expectation. The unspoken exchange as they stare into each other’s eyes is only broken by Dot.

As Phryne reaches across the table to ask Jack to stay and help her celebrate, she acknowledges his importance to her. But, as she returns to the party, Phryne once again dons her carefully manufactured facade. 

Only Jack sees through her. The look that passes between them from the doorway across the room is deeply charged. The slight smile he gives her, aside from setting my heart aflutter, belies the significant shift in their relationship that has occurred. Jack never takes his eyes off her and Phryne herself is obviously aware of him in a way that is not trivial or sexualised as many of her male suitors are. 

Which brings me back to my earlier comment regarding the consolidation of their relationship. Over the course of the series, we have watched both Jack and Phryne evolve from the characters we met in Cocaine Blues. Consider Phryne: carefree, sexually liberated, uninterested in being tied down to anyone or anything. Indeed, it is only her desire to solve what happened to her sister Janey that has seen her return to Australian shores. Meanwhile Detective Inspector Jack Robinson is serious, withdrawn and in all honesty, we know very little about him. 

But as the episodes unfold, we learn more about the vivacious lady detective and her protagonist inspector. We learn that the scars of World War 1 run deep as does Phryne’s sense of guilt over her sister’s disappearance. Nothing in Phryne’s backstory is an excuse or justification for her licentious behaviour, her experiences merely inform her current choice of actions. As she herself states she hasn’t taken anything seriously since 1918. She is determined to enjoy the good life and that seems to be primarily through the more sensual aspects of life.

Similarly, Jack’s experience of the war has informed his choices. To Jack, who holds family and honour close, the failure of his marriage coming on top of the horrors of the war, has led him to withdraw into himself. It is only as the episodes roll out that we see the spark creep back into Jack. To begin with, it is characteristic snark but by the end there is distinct humour in his exchanges and an openness to Phryne that would never have occurred to the Jack we met in episode 1.

But the evolution of both characters is not an accident, rather it is carefully nurtured. The writers/producers took a huge risk when they deviated so significantly from the original characterisations of Kerry Greenwood. But to their credit through the careful and consistent development of the characters across the series, through narrative that guides and develops the relationship in a realistic and valuable way, I believe they have retained the integrity and value of the literary Phryne and, at the same time, laid the groundwork for a believable relationship that the commitment-phobe Phryne of Episode 1 would have run a mile from.

For us to accept and to even care about a relationship between Jack and Phryne, it needs to be beneficial to both. Phryne cannot stop being the strong independent heroine we all love her to be. If her love interest pulls her down we either devalue her or reject the love interest. Instead any worthy suitor needs to build her up, strengthen her, improve her. But it must be a two-way street, she must also bring value to her love interest. She must view him as her equal intellectually and morally. If she doesn’t then he is no more than a diversion, retained only for the amusement he provides her. The writers have indeed provided us such a relationship. Jack and Phryne stand alone as individuals: both strong and independent but together they are even better and therein lies the true attraction of this relationship and the reason it works without detracting from the literary Phryne. They are, in short, the yin to each others’ yang.

A quick search through Google defines this as :  “ The simple meaning is: You complete me. However, there is more to it. It's also about balance. So the other meaning would be : You balance me out. In Chinese philosophy, Yin and Yang represent how two even opposites can compliment each other and should be considered as a whole” (www.Quora.com). A perfect summation really of the relationship we see in this episode.

As Jack and Phryne exchange that loaded glance across the room at the end of Season 1, it is clear that the relationship between them has changed. I don’t think either Jack or Phryne are quite aware of how yet but there is no denying the resultant undercurrent. For those of us watching, we are in for a delightful ride as they, as well as us, navigate the new levels the relationship has moved to. 

And what a delightful ride it shall be. 

All screencaps taken from cap-that.com

[lucarioisinthevoid]

What would everyone think of king Afton?

After many years of the animatronics killing nightguards, they finally caught William and killed him. But as you know from my ask about Goldie and Cassidy, Cassidy lied saying it wasn't him. When humans found out the animatronics were sentient, they locked all animatronics underground, including all the nightguards that were stuffed. Which meant Afton was still around to mess with the animatronics and the dead kids. When animatronics started getting the hang of having a society, springtrap (as how he went by in his suit. It became common among stuffed humans to make up names for themselves instead of using their human names) became the town nuisance. He basically caused trouble just get reactions, everyone just ignored him and pissed him off.

A few years later, about a week after Golden Freddy's and Cassidy's death, the guards were waiting for orders from king Fazbear, Bonnie was subcoming to guilt and depression seeing the situation with Goldie and Cassi as his fault, the Marionette was mourning the death of another child in her room, and Freddy was in his palace thinking. He honestly didn't know how to feel in the moment of their deaths, so he just kept thinking about it knowing the should feel something, like sad or angry.

Springtrap snuck inside the palace, almost too easily. When he was sneaking in, a human fell down. Freddy went to investigate, with springtrap following behind in the shadows. The human that fell sorta looked like Cassidy, except she had gold blonde hair, but that was the only difference. It was like the world wanted to play a joke on Freddy, "hey look!!! A little girl that looks like both of your now dead friends!!! Isn't that funny?!!?!" How dare the world. Before he could even think, all the feelings he should have felt flooded through him, the sadness of loosing the people he loves, the guilt of being unable to prevent their deaths, and the anger towards humanity for killing people he held close to his soul. Without thinking, he projected his anger towards humans on the child, and mercilessly killed her.

He was brought back to his senses when William started laughing and applauding the show before him. Freddy then attacked him, nearly killing him before realizing in this moment he was no better than him. After this realization, he declared war on humanity. The Marionette ran away back to the ruins never to be heard from again, and springtrap was made into the new royal adviser. Freddy hired him as royal adviser in hopes that maybe Afton could teach him to be more merciless.

The only reason why he was so merciless as a killer was because Chara made him think he was insane, and he was a player's puppet. He lived his own life so many times, why would it matter if he killed people if he knew they were going to be fine when he wakes up yesterday? Now Chara became dormant, and the players stopped controlling him. Kinda ironic how he's now feeling powerless despite now having complete control of his body.

He began to feel regret for everything his done. The many people he's killed, the many people he let stay dead. He was no longer above his actions. He was no longer above consequences. This made him fall into despair and depression.

After years of being royal adviser, Freddy gave him a title of king, trusting him enough to rule beside him as brothers. After he was crowned, him and Fazbear became closer, like actual brothers.

But they had disagreements, like all siblings do. Except their disagreements had to do with life and death. Freddy would argue with Afton over killing humans, he'd say that he needed to kill humans and collect their souls in order to set them all free. Afton would argue saying that everyone had already suffered enough, and that more children didn't deserve to die. When ever human children fall down and leave the Marionette's protection in the ruins, he would try and protect the children from Freddy, in hopes that he might be able to talk him out of killing them. Usually the kids flat out give up and let themselves be killed. Afton stopped trying to protect the kids after a 5 year old gave up her life to Fazbear.

King Afton, with the help of doctor Bonnie, removed his suit, and rebuilt Springbonnie and Fredbear. Fredbear remembered how Afton used spring for murder, but thankfully Springbonnie didn't remember how he was used. He didn't even remember the surface, he just knew who he was, who his brother Fredbear was, and that Afton was one of the people that made him. Afton talked with Fredbear privately about how times had changed from 1987 to now, when Fredbear was shut down to when he was rebuilt. Fredbear didn't remember the bite of 87, and his memories of the surface weren't any better. All he remembered was kids, the layout of the diner, and the stars he'd look at out the window.

Once Afton explained everything, leaving out the bite incident, Fredbear to forgive the poor corpse for everything he's done. He didn't trust him, he just forgave him. Fredbear and Springbonnie then left Afton's room where they were rebuilt and started living their own lives.

This Afton is a more forgivable, and melancholy version of Afton.

What would everyone in your AU think of King Afton?

First up, very interesting take, though now all the pressure of the “why did you kill” are put on Chara. The concept of Afton getting EXP from stuffing children into suits is wrecking me with laughter to be fully honest- this man must be buff- Everyone is a big number, but I can give you three main people, I think.

Marionette hates him- like all Williams. He doesn’t believe in redemption; he doesn’t believe in the concept of regret. Nobody ever regretted what happened to him, thus regret must be a hindering emotion at best- a liability at worst. Useless and hurtful. This William is pathetic! How can you go around killing children because of some fucking spirit?! And then being all regretful about it, as though it makes a difference?! Devaluing these murders even MORE! How much must he hate these children that he admits openly that his murders were pointless and soulless and now after decades something he would be taking back?! HOW DOES THAT HELP?! WHO?! HE DOESN’T DESERVE PITY. AND YOUR FREDDY, HE SHOULD HAVE KILLED HIM FOR GOOD! SO WHAT IF YOU ARE “EQUALLY” AS BAD?! IF TWO WRONGS MEET AND ONE KILLS THE OTHER, THEN WE HAVE AT LEAST ONE RIGHT! There is nothing more appalling to him than regretting the evil deeds, because then you say you did those evil deeds out of weakness and selfishness and nothing else came from it. Marion doesn’t regret killing the guards. Marion DOESN’T regret killing the guards! (My Marionette would make a much more ruthless ruler of the underground than both William and Freddy combined…) Fredbear is actually somewhat happy. He feels terrible for everything that happened until then and that the Marionette had to leave home because of William returning and becoming an advisor- and of course, he’s agonizing about the fact that another child had to die. But in the end, there’s some reassurance in William just being another puppet, suffering the circumstances and now working for redemption. The children are still here in some way after all, with this new technology- once it is perfected, everyone can live the life they wanted. All he hopes is that William will be a force of good this time around and for good this time. He shouldn’t have crumbled to the timeloop, but… … things like that are mindbreaking, certainly. Not being yourself is extremely scary. And how can you be sure you ARE yourself? If he would have the chance to say anything to Afton, then it’s to not give protecting the children. They need you. They need someone to stand up for them. No matter how pointless it seems or how often you fail, continuing to try is what matters. Stay determined. You owe them this after all- you have proven your ability to use what’s inside of you for destruction, make sure that it will become good permanently. You need to wake up every morning and choose to do the right thing. They need you. Both the living and the dead. Old Sport thinks he’s a funny fucker. As someone in the same shoes as him- well, without that evil spirit thing, but still- he sees his acting out and then doing a 180° as pretty hilarious. Like, sure, you go dude, reinvent yourself as this regretful somebody who wants to help, Old Sport gets it, he has done stuff like that too- but being all mopey and melancholic about it? Just move on! If you were in a loop, what does it matter? Reset and restart. You didn’t feel bad doing it, right? So why feel bad now? What’s the point? Genuine question. You did the deed, you committed the crime and that was okay. And then you stuck to that timeline. Sorry, not sorry, you have nobody to blame but yourself. And that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be able to move on and change and make peace, that’s totally fine, but the way Old Sport sees it from the outside, there’s a lot of misplaced guilt. This is a story, right? … … even if Old Sport doesn’t like, part of him feels jealous. Afton lacked control over his body, but at least he had a soul, right? At least he HAS a kind of personality and sense of self. He can make himself into a consistent character, unlike Old Sport who has to pick and choose and never knows what to do- In his opinion, Afton needs to get a grip and be less ungrateful for the things he actually DOES have. Save the kids, kill the kids, whatever, protect your sense of self… but then at least be satisfied with your choices that came out of that sense of self. Guilt is a choice. Either regret and act or don’t and stay back.

[redspiderling]

Since fandom is my go-to space for working through every-day trauma, I’ll take this thought process I worked through while inadvertently witnessing traumatic evens unfold in the local society, and bring it to fandom terms through examining Natasha’s characterisation in the MCU.

The philosophical and social waves born during the Enlightenment have completely changed western societies, and to a great degree, said changes have been extremely beneficial. But there is this prevalent notion of the superiority of “reason” over “emotion” that always rang wrong in my mind. 

There are very clear distinctions made between the people, and the groups of people, that normally fall under one of these two categories and I will, of course, elucidate as to how that particular distinction feeds sexism and classism. And of course, how all these elements manifest themselves in the MCU.

First of all, it is I think reasonable that people who face discrimination, people who feel powerless, are more likely to have an emotional response to issues that concern them, while people with privilege, and in positions of power, are more likely to keep a sense of detachment, of composure. 

So what does the separation of the concepts of “reason” and “emotion”, and the declaration of the superiority of “reason” over “emotion”, do? It furthers the privilege of the powered few, who have the luxury of emotional detachment.

So, to give you a real life example, in rape trials men are more likely to be assigned as jurors, because women are presumed to be “compromised”, since they are more likely to become emotionally attached to the victims. Because if many women have been raped, and are likely to have an emotional response to a rape case, they are thus incapable of making a reasonable judgement. So we end up with a “neutral” jury, which is the actually privileged jury, which is The Men.

While the MCU examples are not that extreme, they are there nonetheless.

Think of the emotionless mask Natasha puts on most of the time. It makes sense, character-wise. If anyone understands the workings of social structure and knows how to use the system to their advantage, it’s Natasha. But Natasha is never allowed to emote in regards to the trauma she’s been through. The only emotion that is examined is guilt, and even that is illustrated on a very superficial “I’ve done bad things and so I should pay my dues” way. Natasha is never allowed to express anger at the things that are thrown at her. Not at Fury’s betrayal, not at the fall of SHIELD, not at her being hunted down while others escape, not at the Avengers getting broken up over egotism. 

Furthermore, Natasha’s emotional detachment has been deemed reprehensible both within the fictional world and -on a meta level- in terms of the actors portrayal of her. But even when we get to Endgame, where emotion is allowed because it is now impossible to avoid, it completely devalues her character.

Natasha isn’t allowed to fight in this film. Natasha is the de facto leader of a group of superheroes, but in order for the filmmakers to deem her work worthy of sympathy, her emotional moments have been stripped of her very essence as a person, of the fact that she’s a fighter. 

The fact that she held strong and kept the Avengers running is translated as an inability to move on, not as nobility and strength. The fact that she feels strongly about the downfall of her friend is regarded as an emotional breakdown of a character who is normally “reasonable”. And the final insult, in order for her sacrifice to have an emotional impact the audience wasn’t allowed to witness her fall as a warrior because, according to the filmmakers, that wouldn’t resonate as strongly. 

Basically, when Natasha was allowed to emote, she lost her fighter privileges. She’s no longer an Avenger, she’s a female friend/sacrifice. She couldn’t have been a trauma survivor all these years, she couldn’t be someone who’s walked through hell, because people like that, women like that, they have felt, they are worn by battle. They have lost their position of reasonable detachment and as such, could never be regarded as warriors and heroes. By the way, this entire thought process is starkly illustrated once its brought against the storyline the Soska sisters wrote for Natasha in the comic book run that came out after Endgame.

Anyway, there is hope for us.

P.S. Don’t think this analysis limits itself to Natasha. It weaves its way through every single Avenger, all of the O6 go through this process of reason and emotion. I just can’t bring myself to care for the rest of them.

[mbti-notes]

[1] Hello, INTP here. I have a problem that seems to be related to underdeveloped Fe. For basically all my life, I feel like I can’t connect with anyone and wouldn’t miss them even if we parted ways and were to never see each other again. I know it’s egoistical, but I don’t know how to change it.

[con’t: The main problem is about my mother. She’s a person who really cares about others and misses me a lot ever since I moved out. However, I don’t reciprocate her feelings and I feel incredibly bad because of this. I grew apart from her when I was about 13 because she became emotionally manipulating and controlling because of some personal matters that spiralled into paranoia. I know she didn’t have ill intentions, but it still screwed me up and made me distance myself from her. I think this has also contributed to the problem mentioned before (at least, regarding her). The thing is, I know I should miss my parents like they miss me, but I just… don’t. My mother gets incredibly upset and starts crying whenever I tell her this, and I feel bad for doing so, but I think it would be harder and crueler for everyone in the long run to just fake emotions I don’t actually feel. I’m tired of being so emotionally numb, but I don’t know how to change it. The most surprising thing is that I’m not a cold person regarding other aspects of relationships (I’m usually genuinely kind and respecting of others, for example), only when it comes to get attached to them. Do you have any advice on how to start bonding appropriately with people? Thanks in advance.]

Yes, Fe problem, which also means Ne problem. INTPs are emotionally blank when they severely lack extraverted development. Being an Fe type means that you have to engage with the world in order to feel things, you have to push yourself outside of your comfort zones in ways that trigger (new) feelings and emotions. Inferior Fe essentially boils down to deep-seated fear of emotional life. Being existentially scared of feelings and emotions means that you don’t get to have them unless something literally forces you to have them by smacking you upside the head, therefore, many TPs perceive emotional life as being quite unpleasant and, of course, don’t want anything to do with it. Then you’re always reflexively pushing feelings away, ignoring them, downplaying them, devaluing them… until you can’t feel anymore (use it or lose it). When you can’t feel, then you’re lost, because you’ll have absolutely no idea how to care for yourself and your psychological well-being let alone others’. If only for the sake of knowing how to take care of yourself, you should want to have a healthy emotional life - that’s a big part of what it’s there for. You call yourself “egotistical”, which is kind of funny since an egotistical person only cares about themselves, yet you are actually incapable of caring for yourself.

You can’t force yourself to feel. Feelings must arise organically. However, what you do have control over is how OPEN you are to feeling feelings. If you don’t develop your extraverted functions, you have no openness, your existence is completely closed in upon itself as Ti-Si loop just stays in a self-defined “safe space”, never feeling, never impacted, never moving, never changing, never growing. Be honest, is that really where you want to exist for the rest of your life, essentially never mattering or doing anything that matters? Do you really want to live your life as though already in a coffin? Using the inferior function has a high chance of failure, so your attempts to use Fe haven’t done enough to make you understand how important relationships are to living life fully. To live life fully means that you must engage with life, and that is what Ne forces you to do. Ne is your bridge to Fe. You must open yourself up by choosing to take an interest in the world, by making commitments, by doing things that matter (through the impact that they have). The way to disarm Fe dysfunction is to develop auxiliary Ne so that you are able to think in possibilities, rather than just defaulting to the unhealthy Ti paranoia of believing that the whole world is conspiring against you. Developing Ne makes your judgment more accurate and objective by ensuring that you’ve tested your ideas properly, especially when it comes to the way that you judge people and relationships.

I can’t comment on your relationship with your mother because I can’t be sure that you’re giving me an objective view of the situation, since it’s likely that your judgments are distorted by Ti-Fe dysfunction. It could be that your mother is dysfunctional, it could be that you are, or it could be that you are both screwed up. Therefore, I can only address your side of the issue. If I had a dollar for every time an INTP complained about being “manipulated” by someone, I’d have a much nicer home to live in, it’s almost gotten to the point of sounding cliche. Dysfunctional Fe results in grossly misjudging people and social situations. Whenever I have the opportunity to hear the other side of the story, it often turns out that the other person was simply trying to show that they care, though, to be fair, they perhaps did not choose the best way. And without fail, the dysfunctional INTP always interpreted normal caring behavior as “invasion” or they might say something like “I didn’t ask you to care about me”, which is basically like shouting to the world “I don’t want to be cared about!” If you go through life not wanting people to care about you, don’t be surprised that you end up feeling alienated, since dysfunctional Fe eventually morphs into Fe grip - the voice that continuously haunts you with guilty feelings about being a “useless piece of trash”, which doesn’t bode well for your self-esteem. Perhaps you think it easy to ignore those feelings so far, but I guarantee they only get louder the longer you put off dealing with the problem. Are you resigned to this ending? Are you putting effort into a different ending for yourself? 

Being in a relationship isn’t only about the other and “doing your duty” out of guilt. This is a very narrow, limiting, and one-sided way to conduct a relationship. There are two components to consider in relationships: 

The Social: performing the “contractual” duties and responsibilities appropriate to your role in the relationship. Knowing obligations and carrying them out ensures that both parties benefit relatively equally; on a larger scale, this is the foundation of social stability, and everyone reaps the benefits of living in a stable and healthy society. Your role as someone’s child, sibling, friend, colleague, etc, comes with certain obligations. When people fail to carry them out, the relationship tends to become one-sided, either you take and don’t give, or you give and get nothing, which leads to resentment and unwillingness to continue with the relationship. You make the choice to commit yourself to relationships when you understand that they are necessary for good psychological well-being, and performing your duties well is good for other people’s well-being, i.e., you’re doing something that matters, which lends substance to your existence.

The Emotional: fostering the feelings and emotions that are necessary for building and maintaining a sense of connection with people. Knowing how to nurture care, love, concern, empathy, compassion, etc, ensures that everyone feels invested in the relationship and motivated to continue it. A large component of human motivation is rooted in feelings and emotions, so if your emotional life is dead, motivation to do anything becomes very hard to sustain. If there is no feeling behind the relationship, then it becomes empty, just going through the motions, eventually realizing there’s no good reason to continue. Of the INTPs I’ve spoken with, the biggest obstacle in this department is usually Si loop. They harbor many old resentments, old pain, old failures, old fears, old betrayals, etc, that they don’t want to confront and resolve (due to fear of feeling). Being unable to let go of the past means that you cannot build something new for the future. For example, it’s hard to love your mom when you’re holding old resentments against her, isn’t it? 

If your relationships aren’t or haven’t been mutually beneficial and rooted in love, why not? It can’t always just be the other person’s problem. What about your side of the problem, how do you create the shortcomings? Are you able to create mutual benefit? Are you open to loving and receiving love from others? Are you capable of approaching relationships with a clean slate? I don’t know your history, so I can’t tell you the answers, it’s for you to reflect on. If you’re really having trouble digging into yourself, perhaps it’s worth working it out with a therapist.

[the-purple-martin]

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Fallout 4, Fallout (Video Games) Rating: Mature Warnings: Rape/Non-Con Relationships: Paladin Danse/Female Sole Survivor Characters: Female Sole Survivor, Paladin Danse (Fallout), Arthur Maxson, Scribe Haylen (Fallout) Additional Tags: Post-Blind Betrayal, Hurt/Comfort, Trauma, Depression, Anxiety, Guilt, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Heavy Angst Series: Part 3 of Beauty from Pain

Summary:

In the wake of the events at Listening Post Bravo, Sole Survivor Jacqueline struggles with the consequences of her choices, while Danse is prepared to let the Commonwealth burn on his path to seek vengeance for not only himself, but for the woman he has devoted his life to. Except the road righteousness isn't what it seems. Will the bonds of love and friendship be enough to save them both?

“Are you angry?”

In the aftermath of her confession, Jackie couldn’t bear to look at him. Twisting and churning, her gut was in knots; this place held enough heartache, but she couldn’t keep this from him. 

“I don’t know,” Danse admitted, his gaze fixed upon the ceiling.  Even from her peripherals, she could see the pensive expression that hijacked his features. 

Since Jackie had stepped into this place, condemned to be his personal prison, Danse hadn’t made eye contact. He’d barely acknowledged her presence; staring at nothing, staring through her, until she slunked over and slid down the concrete wall to nestle beside him. Jackie thought he'd been making progress, healing even, but it seemed he hadn’t fared well in her absence. It broke her heart when she had returned, to see Danse’s decline since her previous visit—he sat slouched on the floor, hiding in the dark, with his head in his hands. 

Even though Jackie had managed to keep Danse alive, the days immediately following his execution had been wrought with endless silence and meaningless existence. And then one night, Jackie awoke to the sound of muffled sobbing. Across the room, Danse sat on the edge of his bed, his face buried in his hands. Even through the darkness, Jackie could see the unsteady rise and fall of his shoulders, hear his stuttering breath as he attempted to smother his weeping. 

She had gone simply to sit beside him, to offer quiet comfort with her presence. After a while he’d looked at her; hopeless and broken, and finally admitted that he didn’t know what the hell he was doing anymore. She’d contended that maybe it was okay not to have a plan and promised that whatever life threw at them, she would be there for him. 

You watch my back, I’ll watch yours, she reminded him. 

When she stood to go back to her bunk, Danse caught her arm and tugged her towards him, pulling her into his arms with such force that they toppled over onto the mattress. When his trembling subsided, Jackie gently held Danse’s face between her hands and he told her he would be lost without her. 

During the weeks that followed, Jackie took him to the nearby settlements and put him to work fortifying their defenses and training the residents how properly to defend themselves. Little by little, Danse had been reclaiming the humanity that had been stolen from him. Slowly he was finding the way back to himself. 

The days turned into weeks and Jackie had laid the Brotherhood to rest, deciding that she wasn’t going back. Before long, nearly two months had passed before the Brotherhood came to claim what was theirs. 

Backed by the setting sun in early May, a vertibird and a familiar face, clad in ridiculous aviators and enough arrogance to sail the Prydwen to the moon, a lancer had come under orders to bring Jackie back. She assured Danse that she wouldn't be long. She'd show face, go along with the pomp and circumstance, and promptly hand in her resignation. A few days, maybe a week, she promised. 

Now, Jackie couldn’t stand to look at Danse because it was a lie. She had failed him. Abandoned him in this miserable bunker because her hand had been forced and the burden weighed heavy on her heart. 

Finally, Danse looked at her but still she refused to meet his gaze. For she feared what he would discover from deep within. Under it all, she was terrified and ashamed. Maxson had broken her. Played to her weaknesses and sliced along her vulnerable underbelly, threatening to make her bleed by destroying the man she'd sacrifice anything to protect. 

Danse’s eyes immediately focused on the discoloration of her neck that her jacket didn’t quite hide. He swept her hair aside and tugged at the collar of her shirt to see the extent of the blue and purple splotches that stained her shoulder and chest. She had waited a few days in hopes that bruises would fade, but like a tattoo, they were branded on her skin. His fingers ran along the markings and she winced at his touch.

Shameful proof of her violation. 

“Did he hurt you?” Danse’s voice betrayed nothing except the clinical calmness of a bedside examination. 

Jackie shrugged away, an abstract smudge of dirt on the floor the focus of her attention. Try as she might though, his voice confirmed what she didn’t want to admit.  This had happened. It was real. 

There was no escaping what she’d done. The admission hurt like hell and no amount of attempting to swallow her shame could keep the tears from streaking down her cheeks, “Just my pride.” 

With a sigh, Danse went to catch her tears, “You shouldn’t-” 

“Everything has a price,” she pawed his hands way. “I threatened him, shoved my gun in his face, backed him into a corner… Did you really think there wouldn't be consequences for my actions?” 

��This…” he shook his head, hands retreating to his side, “the price was too high.  I– it wasn’t worth it.” At least he had the decency to catch himself and not defile her by saying he wasn’t worth her sacrifice.

“Don’t!” This time she did look at him. Her head snapped around and she could feel the heat of anger, flushing across her cheeks, “Don’t you dare patronize me by devaluing my decision to fight for you! I made my choice and so did you.  We did this together. Now we pay the price.” 

It was his turn to look away and hide. To cower in his corner. Slip into himself where no one could reach him. 

“You aren’t the only one who lost something here,” she wrapped her arms around her ribs, holding herself and staring at her knees. “If you care about me—even in the slightest—you won’t let my sacrifices be in vain.” 

“I'm not okay with this.” It was mumbled, but with conviction, like his words actually meant something. As if he could put action behind what he said. 

She shifted and drew up her knees to press her forehead into the knobby join of her legs, “And you think I am?” 

The question went unanswered but she didn't have it in her to press the issue. Instead, she let the tears continue to track down her face and run along her thighs before plummeting to the floor. 

Fragmented pieces of her former self splintered in her chest, the jagged edges scraping and tearing at her with each squeeze of her heart. Who was this woman she had become? On the outside, she looked much the same but an ugliness had consumed her. A disease that festered within and ruined everything it touched. Her insides were boiled and black. She had become infected by the sickness of this godforsaken world. And to think, she now called it her home. 

This place, where the wicked and the damned reaped the fruitful rewards of their lawlessness. They sat high and mighty upon their spoils of war, taking the desires of their flesh, without care for who they trampled in their merciless, single-minded path to obtain it. 

A world where innocence and humility were violations of the human condition because here you were conditioned not to think, not to feel. Because independent thought and emotions would get you killed or left for dead in a ditch. The idea that it was okay to desecrate the body and take the life of another simply because they looked at you wrong was commonplace here. It was disgusting and vile and somehow Jackie had found herself surviving, even thriving in this new world. It was ruining her, bending and molding her, and desensitizing her to forsake her humanity. What scared her the most, though, was the thought that maybe she was okay with that. 

She couldn't help but wonder what Danse thought of her now. It was impossible for her to rise to meet his expectations. She was damaged. Not worthy of his compassion. 

‘I'm not ok with this.’ 

Could he forgive her for her transgressions? Would he leave her? Could she live with herself if he did? 

Selfish. She was such a selfish woman. This had all been about what she wanted. He deserved better. 

Jackie dared to turn her face toward him, to steal a coveted glance at the man she had sacrificed everything for—everything including herself.  She had laid out all her cards on the table and in the face of victory, she'd still lost. Now she had to live with her choices, live with herself, as did he. Danse was entitled to so much more than she had to give.  It wasn’t fair to either of them. 

“I just thought you deserved to know the truth.” It was a meager excuse and she wasn’t worthy of staying here any longer, “I should go.” Though she made no attempt to leave. 

Danse sat much the same as her: hunched over, elbows resting on his knees, and fingers knotted in his hair. Still, she saw the twitch of his lips and tensing of his jaw as his eyes squeezed shut, and she knew. 

“You’re angry.” The statement hung in the air, but he remained unmoved. Unflinching. Unyielding. 

The impact of what she had done was finally beginning to settle in.  He was angry.  She would not be forgiven. And why? Why would he forgive her? Why on earth would she even entertain the idea that he would? The trap had been set and she had foolishly walked straight into it.  Now she would lie with the devil, sign his pact, and give away her soul. All in the name of honor and glory. All to save Danse's own soul. 

“I don’t belong here. I don’t…” she turned away and held herself closer, trying to fall deeper into the cavern of guilt that chipped away at her humanity, “...you deserve so much better.” 

Before the fresh tears could even form, Danse tugged at her arm and his fingers closed around her chin. He jerked her face toward him, forcing their eyes to meet.  There was determination in his muddy browns, a fierceness she hadn't seen in quite some time. 

“I’m only angry with myself,” he held her gaze, searching her eyes to make sure his message was received, “that I couldn’t protect you from this.” He was gentler now, releasing her chin to press his hand against her cheek. 

Jackie gravitated toward his touch and closed her eyes as she leaned into his warmth.  A beacon of hope that all was not lost. 

“Look at me.” Both of his hands cradled her face and reluctantly she opened her eyes, “this isn’t your fault.” The fierceness in his eyes shifted to reveal something more sinister, “I’ll burn down the entire Commonwealth if he lays a hand on you again.” 

She almost had the decency to smile at his conviction, but she was reminded, “You don’t have the luxury of making that promise.” 

The determination that was present before quickly faded. In the seconds it took for Danse’s expression to shift, she could see the desolation of defeat hover across his brow before he could erect the facade. 

“I will find a way to make this right.” Again, his words held no value, but maybe she could pretend they did. Maybe it would ease the raw and achy feeling. 

For a moment nothing happened.  Neither of them moved or even breathed.  They sat in an eternity of silence and Jackie allowed herself to drown in the warm pools of his brown eyes. Perhaps if she lingered there his empty promises would chase away the devastating reality that she had failed. 

Danse shuffled and slipped his arms around her shoulders. There was the briefest hesitation.  A resistance where Jackie contemplated if she would let this happen.  It didn’t take her long to arrive at her conclusion.  She would allow it. 

In a single movement, he pulled her to him and folded her into his embrace.  Jackie shifted her weight, curling up into him and relaxing against his chest only to feel the slightest tremble within his own body. It was too much to bear so she clung to him and wept in his arms because there were no words to ease their pain. 

“I’m sorry,” he muttered after a while and loosened his hold on her to run his thumbs across her cheeks. 

“Yeah,” she didn't doubt him, but she also wasn't blind to the fact that he didn't control their fates anymore, “me too.” 

There were choices to be made and she'd sowed her seeds, chose her path.  She didn’t regret what she had done; she would do it again without hesitation. In the end, though, there was a price to be paid for her transgressions and it just might cost her own life.

[rockdaysandpoetry]

What is it about that song, Heart-shaped box ~ Nirvana

I googled the meaning of the song:

Google’s interpretation of the song:

Kurt Cobain, Nirvana's frontman and the song's author, claimed that this song was inspired by a television report of children suffering from cancer. However, many believe it was really written about his shaky but passionate relationship with his wife, Courtney Love. The lyrics do tend towards this latter interpretation, since they seem to concern themselves with an unstable romance between two individuals. It's worth noting that the lyrics mention Pisces and Cancer, Cobain's and Love's respective astrological signs. Love, after their second meeting sent a small heart-shaped box, containing, among other things, a doll's head, to his hotel room. This is believed to have inspired the song's title. Cobain and Love both shared a love and fascination of dolls.

The "Heart-Shaped Box" could be a reference to a uterus. The lyrics talk about the situation of an aborted fetus from the first-person viewpoint.

There are many possible interpretations for the "Heart-Shaped Box." It could be a box for Kurt's needles, an actual heart, or a box of love letters. There is no clear explanation, which was probably what Cobain had in mind.

According to the book Come As You Are by Michael Azerrad, the idea of the song came from Courtney Love when she presented Kurt with a heart-shaped box full of precious possessions. The song switches meanings between Kurt's feelings over Courtney and his feelings on how women are treated.

 My interpretation of the song:

As you might know or have heard of, there were speculations Kurt Cobain had Bipolar disorder, which is a mood disorder. During the beginning of the ’90s, to my knowledge, there wasn’t a clear difference in the Bipolar 1 and Bipolar 2 type. So let me give you a brief explanation.

To be diagnosed with Bipolar disorder, one must have continuously mood switches going from mania, hypomania, and depression. (And a mixed episode). They moods must be present for at least 1 week and present every day, nearly all day long.

Manic Episodes:

During a manic episode, a person has a sustained and abnormally elevated, expansive, or irritable mood for at least one week, and at least three of the following symptoms:

Grandiosity or an inflated sense of self

Little need for sleep

Feeling pressured to speak, talking loudly and rapidly

Easily distracted

Engaging in multiple tasks at one time — more then can be realistically accomplished in one day

Engaging in risky behavior like gambling or unprotected sex

Racing thoughts

These symptoms are exaggerated and noted by family members and loved ones. They impair a person's ability to function at home, school, and/or work.

Hypomanic Episodes:

During a hypomanic episode, the symptoms of mania only needs to last four days in a row. The symptoms do not impair everyday functioning like they do in a manic episode, and they are not severe enough to necessitate hospitalization.

Major Depressive Episodes:

A major depressive episode must last at least two weeks and is characterized by either a severe sadness or feeling of hopelessness and/or a loss of interest or pleasure in activities that the person once enjoyed. Other symptoms that may occur in a major depressive episode include:

Feeling guilty

Sleeping problems, like too much or too little

Feeling agitated or alternatively, feeling slowed down

Eating more or less

Fatigue and loss of energy

Difficulty concentrating

Thinking of death or suicide

Mixed Episodes:

Basically, a person is having both symptoms of mania and depression at the same time.

So here’s my interpretation:

I listen to the song regularly but at once that second sentence hit me. Quoting: ‘I’ve been locked inside your heart-shaped box for weeks’. Which could indeed mean the relationship of Love and Cobain was very unstable and even unhealthy. I see it as a metaphor for, Courtney Love having power over Kurt or manipulating him. If any of you have seen the interview with Courtney Love after Cobain died, she told the interviewer it was her fault… She told him that she pushed him to far this time by saying: that he dropped the baby (Frances Bean Cobain). If this is true, she was manipulating Kurt Cobain. Or it could have been the guilt that came over her, of course.

People with mood disorders and psychotic symptoms (or psychotic disorders, like myself), need structure and order. And I think Courtney Love was the exact opposite of that to Kurt Cobain. I think the album in Utero and the few Albums following, showed Cobain's need of structure, and his chaotic life, mind, and relationship.

And I think he wanted to tell all of us starting with ‘Heart-shaped box’.

And if I would diagnose Courtney Love, and do take this with a grain of salt (I’m not a professional, yet), I would diagnose her as a borderliner. Which might explain a lot.

If you want to know the criteria of Borderline personality disorder keep reading, here I describe them briefly:

Fear of abandonment: People with BPD are often terrified of being abandoned or left alone. Even something as innocuous as a loved one arriving home late from work or going away for the weekend may trigger intense fear. This can prompt frantic efforts to keep the other person close. You may beg, cling, start fights, track your loved one’s movements, or even physically block the person from leaving. Unfortunately, this behavior tends to have the opposite effect—driving others away.

Unstable relationships: People with BPD tend to have relationships that are intense and short-lived. You may fall in love quickly, believing that each new person is the one who will make you feel whole, only to be quickly disappointed. Your relationships either seem perfect or horrible, without any middle ground. Your lovers, friends, or family members may feel like they have emotional whiplash as a result of your rapid swings from idealization to devaluation, anger, and hate.

Unclear or shifting self-image: When you have BPD, your sense of self is typically unstable. Sometimes you may feel good about yourself, but other times you hate yourself, or even view yourself as evil. You probably don’t have a clear idea of who you are or what you want in life. As a result, you may frequently change jobs, friends, lovers, religion, values, goals, or even sexual identity.

Impulsive, self-destructive behaviors: If you have BPD, you may engage in harmful, sensation-seeking behaviors, especially when you’re upset. You may impulsively spend money you can’t afford, binge eat, drive recklessly, shoplift, engage in risky sex, or overdo it with drugs or alcohol. These risky behaviors may help you feel better in the moment, but they hurt you and those around you over the long-term.

Self-harm: Suicidal behavior and deliberate self-harm is common in people with BPD. Suicidal behavior includes thinking about suicide, making suicidal gestures or threats, or actually carrying out a suicide attempt. Self-harm encompasses all other attempts to hurt yourself without suicidal intent. Common forms of self-harm include cutting and burning.

Extreme emotional swings: Unstable emotions and moods are common with BPD. One moment, you may feel happy, and the next, despondent. Little things that other people brush off can send you into an emotional tailspin. These mood swings are intense, but they tend to pass fairly quickly (unlike the emotional swings of depression or bipolar disorder), usually lasting just a few minutes or hours.

Chronic feelings of emptiness: People with BPD often talk about feeling empty, as if there’s a hole or a void inside them. At the extreme, you may feel as if you’re “nothing” or “nobody.” This feeling is uncomfortable, so you may try to fill the void with things like drugs, food, or sex. But nothing feels truly satisfying.

Explosive anger: If you have BPD, you may struggle with intense anger and a short temper. You may also have trouble controlling yourself once the fuse is lit—yelling, throwing things, or becoming completely consumed by rage. It’s important to note that this anger isn’t always directed outwards. You may spend a lot of time feeling angry at yourself.

Feeling suspicious or out of touch with reality: People with BPD often struggle with paranoia or suspicious thoughts about others’ motives. When under stress, you may even lose touch with reality—an experience known as dissociation. You may feel foggy, spaced out, or as if you’re outside your own body.

[enigmaphenomenon]

Something’s up with Jack (Another Jack analysis)

I believe Handsome Jack has Borderline Personality Disorder. 

Let’s first go through the symptoms of BPD. In order to be diagnosed with BPD one needs to have repeated patterns of 5 out of 9 symptoms of BPD. I’ll go through the symptoms Jack displays. 

Google gives a very brief list of symptoms. I’ll highlight the ones Jack is shown having. 

Behavioral: antisocial behavior, compulsive behavior, hostility, impulsivity, irritability, risk taking behaviors, self-destructive behavior, self-harm, social isolation, or lack of restraint

Mood: anger, anxiety, general discontent, guilt, loneliness, mood swings, or sadness

Psychological: depression, distorted self-image, grandiosity, or narcissism

So let’s just dive right into his symptoms. I don’t...really need to provide examples of Jack’s narcissism, do I? Because that one is obvious as all hell. 

1)  An intense fear of abandonment, even going to extreme measures to avoid real or imagined separation or rejection. 

Oh yeah. And Jack reacts quite violently to what he perceives as betrayals and/or abandonment. If you trust Jack instead of Fiona at the end of Episode 2, and refuse to trust him in Episode 3 when he asks you too...uh...

“Oh. Oh, that’s a... shame. Because I thought--- I thought we were becoming pals. Saved your life back there and you...still don’t trust me? You know I’m uh...I’ve had to deal with this my whole damn life you know? You try to do the right thing and people just... crap all over you for it. Well, congrats kiddo. You’re the latest in a long line of Jack-shitters. Super psyched about it.” 

This isn’t the first time Jack mentions that he should have seen this all coming, he mentions it again at the end of Episode 5. 

“I should have seen this coming--ever since I came to this nacho-flavored shithole of a planet. I’ve been betrayed by everybody I gave rat’s ass about. My boss. My girlfriend. Hell...my goddamn daughter.” 

Then, of course, Jack telling Rhys...

And....

Jack has extreme violent reactions to people he views as being against him, even when they aren’t. Adding to this is Jack’s hatred of all vault-hunters due to Lilith and Roland’s betrayal and also his fear of being shot in the back if he lets his enemies live. Remember he was willing to forgive the Meriff and let him live until the Meriff tries to shoot Jack as he’s walking away. This then leads to Jack airlocking scientists just for the mere possibility one of them might be working for Zarpedon. Also, when Athena or whoever else you play suggest just rushing to the vault and not fighting Jack insists they all must die, stating that if you let your enemies live, they’ll shoot you in the back. 

2)  A pattern of unstable intense relationships, such as idealizing someone one moment and then suddenly believing the person doesn't care enough or is cruel. (People with BPD tend to have relationships that are intense and short-lived. You may fall in love quickly, believing each new person is the one who will make you feel whole, only to be quickly disappointed. Your relationships either seem perfect or horrible, with nothing in between. Your lovers, friends, or family members may feel like they have emotional whiplash from your rapid swings between idealization and devaluation, anger, and hate.)

Moxxi, Rhys, Angel, and his second wife. 

Moxxi says he was clingy and that’s why she dumped Jack, Jack blew up her slaughter dome thing due to this, but this doesn’t stop him from asking her for help to fight against Zarpedon. 

Rhys? Aw man just take a look at this switch. 

“Oh, wow. I wish I could hug you right now. I’m gonna make a robot that just hugs you when I tell it to. I’m so proud. I’m so proud of my special boy! This is a perfect partnership, Rhys. You trusted me. I trusted you, and now we’re here! Man--never really had a partner I could count on before. Feels kinda dope”

No Jack, Rhys doesn’t want a giant Endoskeleton to crawl inside his body. 

“This was YOUR chance to make history, you moron! To be part of a legacy! To matter for once in your useless little life!”

Angel doesn’t need to be explained right? In the ECHO logs in Borderlands 2 Jack cycles between being amiable towards her and then lashing out at her. 

His relationship with his second wife was ruined over him refusing to shut down the control core, and in an ECHO log it’s stated she disappeared shortly after telling Jack to shut down the control core. 

3) Identity disturbance, such as a significant and persistent unstable self-image or sense of self

Jack is a meglomaniac who sees himself as the hero and as a god, but, in BL2 he brings this up: 

"I know you think I'm a monster. You think I enslaved Angel. But you didn't see what she did to her mother. I had to restrain Angel's power. You get that? I had to."

He brings this up to the vault hunter. Why? What does he care what the vault hunter thinks of him? Jack sure as hell hasn’t cared at all about “bandits” opinions of him. And he really isn’t shy about blaming other people for something, come on, this is the same man who says he shot a baby because THE BABY was being a dick. 

Jack doesn’t blame Angel for betraying him. As he said in TFTBL, she had no choice. He also doesn’t say that vault hunters killed her. He says that she killed herself.

This is Jack being hit with the realization that his daughter is dead, and that he drove her to it. He’s the monster who enslaved Angel, but he says he had to do it (I’ll go deeper into this in a different essay). He had to to restrain her power, he had to, as if he didn’t have a choice. There is guilt behind these words. 

To compare, in Tomb Raider 2013 there was extra dialogue (that for some reason was not in the final version of the game) after Lara has her first kill, she tells herself “I had to do it. I had to do it.” That’s how Lara rationalizes taking a life. If she had not killed that man, he would have killed her, so she “had to.”

I believe its the same with Jack. There is guilt there. Why would he feel the need to defend his actions to the vault hunters? To the “bandits?” He saw Angel ask the vault hunters to end her life, he saw her call them friend, her last dying breath was needing to tell her father that he’s an asshole. Jack knows. He knows what he’s done. But he’s too mentally ill to accept it, or change it. If anything, that just drove him further into insanity. 

In TFTBL Jack also mentions that he knows where Rhys is coming from and imposter syndrome is normal, and to just strangle that voice in his head that says he’s not good enough. 

4) Impulsive and risky behavior, such as gambling, reckless driving, unsafe sex, spending sprees, binge eating or drug abuse, or sabotaging success by suddenly quitting a good job or ending a positive relationship

Hahahaha ooooooh yeaaaaah. 

Spending sprees: Butt Stallion

“My day? It's been pretty good. I just bought a pony made of diamonds, because I’m rich. So, you know. That’s cool.“

Unsafe sex: 

“If I’da just thrown stock options at the Vault Hunters instead of bullets, I’d be on a beach right now doing disturbingly graphic things with the local ladies.”

Drug abuse: 

He mashed up a mushroom and snorted it...a lot...

Primo hit of electri-drugs.

His chair also has contact activated Dopamine injectors. 

Jack drinks, a lot apparently, since he thought either sex or drinking would kill him. 

It really wouldn’t surprise me if Jack participated in orgies which he probably totally did.

5)  Extreme emotional swings. Unstable emotions and moods are common with BPD. One moment, you may feel happy, and the next, despondent. Little things that other people brush off can send you into an emotional tailspin. These mood swings are intense, but they tend to pass fairly quickly (unlike the emotional swings of depression or bipolar disorder), usually lasting just a few minutes or hours.

Jack is...really unstable and I don’t think anyone will disagree.  

ECHO logs in BL2 depict Jack going from manic to a fit of rage both with Angel and Mr. Tassiter. As well as Mr. Moorin who he strangles for mentioning his wife. 

Or when he gets really excited...

6) Chronic feelings of emptiness. People with BPD often talk about feeling empty, as if there’s a hole or a void inside them. At the extreme, you may feel as if you’re “nothing” or “nobody.” This feeling is uncomfortable, so you may try to fill the hole with things like drugs, food, or sex. But nothing feels truly satisfying.

After becoming CEO he became dictator of Pandora, then decided...hey why not conquer more planets? Why not basically become a god? That toppled on top of Jack’s drug use and sex life. He bought a diamond horse and named it Butt-stallion...

He also says that when he takes Rhys’ body he’s still gonna use it to eat food and bang a bunch of people. 

(A side note, Dameon Clarke while answering questions as Handsome Jack said that there’s a lot of smiling going on but he’s actually dead inside. I just wanted to add it here as a point of interest.)

Jack also tolerated Mr. Tassiter’s insults until Tassiter told Jack that he’s a pathetic nobody under his mask. This leads to Jack strangling him and keeping his goatee as a reminder of what happens to people when they’re a dick to Jack. 

7)Explosive anger. If you have BPD, you may struggle with intense anger and a short temper. You may also have trouble controlling yourself once the fuse is lit—yelling, throwing things, or becoming completely consumed by rage. It’s important to note that this anger isn’t always directed outwards. You may spend a lot of time being angry at yourself.

I don’t feel I need to provide examples for this one. We’ve all seen Jack’s rage. He uh....really goes off and it is not easy to stop him. 

Now that we got Jack’s symptoms out of the way let’s move on to causes. 

Most mental health professionals believe that borderline personality disorder (BPD) is caused by a combination of inherited or internal biological factors and external environmental factors, such as traumatic experiences in childhood.

...

Hereditary predisposition. You may be at a higher risk if a close relative — your mother, father, brother or sister — has the same or a similar disorder.

Stressful childhood. Many people with the disorder report being sexually or physically abused or neglected during childhood. Some people have lost or were separated from a parent or close caregiver when they were young or had parents or caregivers with substance misuse or other mental health issues. Others have been exposed to hostile conflict and unstable family relationships.

Let’s start with Jack’s genetics. If you saw my last post about Jack, it was wondering if Jack’s grandmother was a bandit and/or psycho due to her buzz axe. It is very possible that Jack’s grandmother and mother also suffer with some mental illness. 

Onto the stressful childhood. Grandma’s buzz axe which was a disciplinary weapon she used on Jack, and in The Pre-Sequel, Jack is asked to describe his childhood which he says his mother abandoned him on his abusive grandmother who would smack him around. He also had a pet cat that his grandma drowned because he didn’t make his bed. He cites this as “the usual stuff” 

Jack has both genetics and environmental factors that can lead to someone having mental disorders. 

Jack’s drug use and drinking would aid in making his BPD symptoms much worse as well.

So...yeah, there’s my Jack analysis.

[blackestnight]

the privilege of

[baseball slides in before 6.0 launch]

it’s been over a year since i wrote “the honor of.” i think these two assholes have been waiting long enough for a wedding. but guess what! they’re not getting it.

they get this instead.

Regardless of whatever insinuations Krile made, portraiture wasn’t a skill Alphinaud had ever really intended to share. As a younger student, presenting hasty sketches to older classmates had earned him pat-on-the-head praise, and he had to refine his drawing hand regardless in order to transcribe sigils and theorems in his grimoires—imperfection simply wasn’t an option when one lopsided circle could result in disaster. Alisaie had a steady hand as well, having been trained with rulers and protractors since her fingers were strong enough to handle a pencil. The only thing that separated him—the thing that had him begging Mother and Father for permission to enroll in art electives while Alisaie opted for extra gymnastics sessions or wildlife studies—was that he found it easy to break people down into shapes, to translate three dimensions into two and then carefully apply shadows and color to trick the mind into seeing three dimensions once more. Not unlike compressing spells and summons into paper, but infinitely more forgiving: the only thing at risk should he fail in his efforts was his own time and pride, and perhaps his marks if he failed to heed the critique of his instructors for school projects. It was an entirely selfish pursuit.

Not that it didn’t have its uses; he dreaded to think how much longer the search for Yugiri and Gosetsu might have taken without visual aids, and of course his bid to enter Eulmore as an artist had worked well enough—but Eulmore had been where the change started. Dulia-Chai had been utterly delighted with her portrait (which was something of a relief, particularly to the niggling seed of guilt that his promise of a painting had started as a ruse), and in the fashion of a born-and-bred noble she boasted. More in line with a doting aunt than a collector, granted, but with equal parts pride and exuberance. It seemed that everyone who entered the Grand Dame’s Parlor for a full day and a half after the portrait’s completion had been pulled over to the Chai table, until Chai-Nuzz had managed to convince his wife to move the painting to their home for safekeeping. Dulia-Chai had still made a production of it, clapping her hands on Alphinaud’s shoulders or cheeks and cooing isn’t he the most wonderful artist? And so darling, too!

It had been slightly mortifying, but not as embarrassing as it was flattering, at least until a well-dressed elezen had given him a considering look and asked when are you next available for a commission?

He had tried to refuse. ‘The Artist Alphinaud’ was only ever meant to be a cover—he was a Scion, first and always, and he had so much to do, so many duties on the First and yet more awaiting him on the Source, research and negotiations and meetings requiring his constant attention, or so it seemed. Art was a hobby, not a job; best for the woman to go to a professional, he reasoned. But Dulia-Chai would hear none of it. Nonsense, my boy, she’d tutted. It’s one thing if you haven’t got any interest, but quite another to say you can’t do it at all. And the requests had kept coming, and Dulia-Chai had kept fussing, and eventually he had thrown up his hands.

It was a good thing, ultimately. A way to relax. At first he’d attempted to refuse payment for his portraits, but unexpectedly it had been Chai-Nuzz who had put his foot down on the matter. You musn’t let people slip back into the habit of devaluing the work of others, he’d said. They’re clients, and you are providing a service. You ought to be paid for your time and your skill, just as any artisan here should. Which was a fair point, but Alphinaud had no need for coin; the Exarch saw to all their needs, not to mention half the shopkeeps in the Crystarium claiming that they wouldn’t take a single gil from the Warrior of Darkness or her companions. He’d settled on a compromise eventually; the gil from his portrait commissions was in turn donated directly to construction projects throughout Kholusia, particularly those focused on renovating Gatetown and the other outlying villages.

It was a constructive pastime, and good practice, and a good way to meet the people of Norvrandt besides. But he was still a Scion before aught else, and had not expected to continue his career as a portrait artist after his return to the Source.

And then Hanami had found him tucked away in a corner of Dawn’s Respite, reading through a backlog of letters while performing his prescribed routine of stretches, and she had asked, Will you do a painting for me?

‘The Artist Alphinaud’ was an act, and Hanami was no more his assistant than he was a master. But he couldn’t find it in himself to refuse.

—

“I hate this,” Hanami said, in a tone that seemed to Alphinaud as though she had lost any hope of her pronouncement bringing change.

“So I gathered,” said Ser Aymeric, in the tone of a man who was not so much swayed as he was amused.

The noble houses of Ishgard were not traditionally what Alphinaud would have called boisterous, but Borel Manor was quiet in a way utterly alien from his recollection of House Fortemps, aside from the muted debate of its residents. There was a steady ticking noise from the grand clock and the sound of crackling wood in the ubiquitous hearth, but there was no sound of a manor house going about its daily business: no muffled footsteps of passing staff, no distant clinking and clattering of bustling kitchens or toiling artisans. Though he couldn’t recall whence the information had come, Alphinaud was given to understand that the staff of House Borel could be counted on the fingers of one hand (with some to spare, assuming one remained in possession of all their fingers). The silence was deafening in a way that made every sound of his brush meeting canvas and every creak of his weight in his chair seem all the more intrusive.

He wasn’t watching his subjects, occupied with a rag soaked in linseed oil and pulled taut over his fingernail—the light shimmering on the folds of Aymeric’s faintly iridescent jacket was challenging to pin down in paint, and Alphinaud had laid down his oils too thick in an effort to fix a mistake at the elbow. He wiped away his error while Hanami and Aymeric talked, not loudly, but certainly not quiet enough to avoid being overheard.

“I just thought you should know. I hate this. And these shoes.”

“As I recall, this was your idea,” Aymeric said. A rustling sound of movement (which was fine; Alphinaud had told them both to move as required, well aware of how taxing it could be to hold a pose, and anyway he wasn’t in need of visual reference at the moment, busy making minor corrections to his color where the sleeve met the chair). Then a delicate clink of jewelry, and: “Thank you. I know how you detest formality.”

Curiosity won out over concentration, and Alphinaud glanced up from his canvas, only to wish he hadn’t. Ser Aymeric was twisted around in his seat to look over his shoulder, and had pulled Hanami’s hand from the back of the chair to hold it in its own and kiss her knuckles. It was perfectly chaste, but Alphinaud felt the same hot flash of mortification across his ears that he’d felt when he’d caught his parents kissing as a child.

He coughed pointedly, and Hanami twitched, replacing her hand in its spot on the chair. Ser Aymeric righted himself too, and Hanami muttered “And I know you are a sap.”

It was hard to tell with the lighting, and her skin tone against the red of her collar, but Alphinaud was almost sure he saw a flush on her neck. Likely he wasn’t the only one embarrassed to have caught a moment of affection. Thancred liked to say that Hanami appeared to have an allergy to it, or to any publicly displayed emotion that wasn’t some form of anger. “You can remove your shoes, if it would help,” he said, eager to move on from the moment. “I can’t see your feet while you’re standing.”

“Thank fuck,” Hanami said, louder this time, and braced herself on the chair to bend over and tug her slippers off one by one. The fashion in Ishgard was to wear heeled shoes for all occasions, especially among the upper class, but Alphinaud hadn’t seen Hanami wear anything approaching a heel since her arrival in Norvrandt; with her floor-length dress he heard rather than saw the thunk of her bare foot impacting the rug, hard and clumsy when she overcorrected to right herself. Her scowl, at least, was plain to see, as was the hard set to her jaw when she closed her eyes and inhaled through her nose. Ser Aymeric had gripped her forearm at some point without Alphinaud noticing, and he only took his hand back when she said, “Fine. Moved too fast. Dizzy.”

The hardsilver of her metal horn seemed liquid in the firelight. Another challenging spot to replicate in paint.

“If you like—” Ser Aymeric began to stand, gesturing to his seat, but Hanami only shook her head and leaned back against the carved wood of the chair’s arm.

“A break will do us all well,” Alphinaud said. It had been long enough anyway. He replaced his brush on the palette, careful not to muddy his paints, and began to flex his wrists. Even using magic to speed the drying process, full formal painted portraits were a multiple-day affair with a good few hours in each sitting, and he had to consciously remind himself not to sink into a fugue state of focus as was his wont with other projects. He still felt prone to stiffness and muscle aches after his body had been left sleeping for so long, and neither of his subjects were the sort to voice a (genuine) complaint. He had known Hanami to out-march a chocobo; she would stand for bells without relief if left to her own devices.

Aymeric took the chance to stand instead and smoothed the back of his coat. He at least sported traditional Ishgardian formalwear, though rather than ceremonial armor or a dark coat he wore a shimmering white that had proven popular with grooms in lower Eorzea (judging by the wedding parties Alphinaud had seen riding to and from Gridania)—though his station demanded perhaps a bit more regalia than the average Eorzean. Hanami, meanwhile, seemed to have eschewed tradition altogether: Alphinaud could only call her clothing a dress, because while it certainly wasn’t a gown of any sort that he knew, it didn’t quite resemble the kimono he remembered from his time in Doma either. The wrapped fabric was vaguely familiar, but it flared into a loose skirt and the neckline dipped around her shoulders, exposing a panel of lace that seemed stark cream against the crimson of the rest of the garment (and which created a shadow on the rough scales around Hanami’s neck that Alphinaud dreaded shading).

(The last time I wore white was for a funeral, she had said when Alphinaud asked about the color, and he did not ask again.)

“I thank you both for your patience,” he said, breaking the silence that seemed too heavy with the color still returning to Hanami’s face. “I hope to have the full piece completed before you sail for Doma, but if not I assure you it will be finished for your return.”

Aymeric straightened his cuffs. His smile was perfectly cordial in a way that reminded Alphinaud of standing in the man’s office rather than his parlor, but it was oddly comforting. He was, after all, technically here for work, and not having to do the dance of overfamiliarity was a relief.

“Please don’t feel any pressure to rush,” Aymeric said. “This is a wonderful enough surprise in itself.”

Alphinaud had seen the other portraits scattered through the halls, or hung in places of honor over mantle pieces. Generations of Borels watched over the echoing manor house, hands folded in their laps or around the grips of the same sword that decorated Aymeric’s belt at Alliance functions. They served as good stylistic reference (though Alphinaud had opted for highlights behind his own subjects, as past generations of Borels had tended toward auburn hair and hadn’t had to worry about blending into black backdrops). A little less than a quarter of the paintings depicted couples in their wedding finery, but even if Hanami hadn’t been specific in her request, he wasn’t sure how she would take the suggestion of dressing in another formal gown.

He moved on to stretching his fingers, curling and uncurling and pulling them back slightly to feel the tendons work. “I promise it isn’t a great hardship,” he said. “Oils are simply a slow medium. Speaking of your voyage,” he added, “I understand that sea travel isn’t your usual modus operandi. Is there some reason you aren’t teleporting?”

Hanami turned to perch fully on the chair’s arm, and in that voice that was too low to be a true answer but too loud to be private, said, “Aside from Aymeric looking like he is going to puke every time we land?”

“Thank you,” Aymeric said wryly. Then to Alphinaud: “Lord Edmont offered to stand for me in Doma, since Lucia will have charge of the city in my absence, and he has never traveled to Othard before.”

The way Edmont had talked about it, Alphinaud suspected there was slightly more conspiracy to it than an offer, but no matter. Technically Revenant's Toll and Ishgard were geographically close enough that Alphinaud could teleport back and forth without risking Krile’s ire, even with his aether still recovering and resettling into his body, but Ser Aymeric had proffered him lodgings (an unfailingly courteous host) and Hanami had done the same (unfailingly curt). He’d missed Fortemps Manor, though, and even though Artoirel was too occupied to entertain much, Edmont was obviously delighted at the chance to have one of his charges back in his home, if only for a brief while.

As he understood it, Aymeric and Hanami’s long absence for their wedding in Doma was mostly dedicated to travel time. Edmont had spent an afternoon asking about the culture and the customs, what sorts of gifts might be best appreciated and which social faux pas to most carefully avoid. Emmanellain, by comparison, had spent a morning laying out a spread of fashion plates on the dining table and chattering about hand-painted silk while Honoroit exchanged exasperated looks with Alphinaud over the bread rolls. Whatever sort of ceremony there would be (Edmont didn’t know, and Hanami wouldn’t say—assuming she herself knew, which wasn’t a wager Alphinaud would place gil on) it wasn’t the sort that invited a large crowd, so Hanami would be able to bring their whole party back to Ishgard via the aether. Then a few days’ recovery, which would allow for guests to trickle into the city for the ceremony at Saint Reymanaud’s. Then—well, he’d heard Hanami snapping at Thancred something about staying the hell away from civilization and stupid fucking dresses, so presumably the happy couple had plans to leave again, but it wasn’t his business. Hanami had a habit of vanishing into the wilds for days at a time and generally reappeared none the worse for wear; between herself and Ser Aymeric, Alphinaud imagined that they would be fine wherever they wandered to.

In front of him, still apparently trying to find a way to lean comfortably without unduly damaging her stupid fucking dress, Hanami cast her eyes to the heavens. “Remind me to lock my cousin in a shed when we get there,” she said. “If Honoka and Emmanellain start talking we are all going to regret it.”

“She isn’t so bad as all that,” Aymeric said. He solved the problem of Hanami’s perch by retaking his own seat and gently tugging her back to lean against his shoulder; Alphinaud busied himself with inspecting his brush, checking for bent bristles.

“She is exactly that bad and you are an idiot,” Hanami said. “And I am not going to save you when she starts trying to drag you out of the house by your ears because of old wives’ tales she brought back from Eorzea.”

The name Honoka rang a faint bell in Alphinaud’s memory, and brought forth a mental image of one of the younger refugees who had stayed in Mor Dhona—just a few years younger than himself and twice as self-assured. The rumors that she and her older sister were blood relatives of Hanami’s had been dismissed at first as prejudice, then as some sort of convoluted practical joke, but—that wasn’t Hanami’s sort of humor. And if there was one thing in her life that Alphinaud knew she took as seriously as death, it was her family.

Ser Aymeric made a contented noise. “I can handle a bit of superstition,” he said. “Frankly, if that is the only price demanded of me for the privilege of your hand, I will be ecstatic to pay it.”

He heard a scoff and a rustling noise, and Hanami said, “Privilege my ass. I still do not know where you keep getting this idea that anyone is going to give you some sort of—of shovel talk,” said with an emphasis that made her disdainful lip-curl audible. “I am a shovel talk.”

Alphinaud was utterly unable to stifle his snort and felt his own ears heat again at his outburst—she wasn’t talking to him—but when he dared glance around his canvas Hanami only seemed satisfied with herself while Ser Aymeric coughed his own laughter into his hand.

That was Hanami’s sort of humor. Alphinaud had fallen victim to her outlandishness more than once, either in a ploy to amuse him or to embarrass him; he liked to think he was better at catching her jokes as she made them, now. Mustering the courage to laugh along with her comically overblown threats reminded him of the time he had journeyed to Limsa with Alisaie and she had dared him to lay upon a bed of nails that a traveling carnival had brought: initially he had blanched at the idea, but as he recovered from the initial burst of fear and allowed reason to calm him, the prospect had become more fun than frightening. Hanami was dangerous and short-tempered, sharp and deadly as a spike, but only when pressured. It induced a sort of vertigo to see her wielding her words like this, drawing joy from her little audience even while Alphinaud endeavored to become politely invisible.

He’d seen her do it more often since Norvrandt. After the night sky’s permanent return she had been weary and withdrawn, but clustered around the table in her suite, in the comfort of her domain, she’d unleashed gentle barbs aimed at absent companions (Thancred was a favored target) to drive Ryne to giggles, or bantered back and forth with Alisaie at Alphinaud’s expense. She’d seemed almost alien at first. He thought he had known her well after their sojourn in Ishgard, but now with the benefit of hindsight it was easy to see how stiffly she held herself even in Fortemps Manor, how her eyes dulled and her words shriveled, turning sparse and sour. She’d nearly driven Alphinaud into an indignant lecture at first, at her perceived shunning of their host, but Edmont had only ever been kind. She is entitled to her privacy, he’d said, over a cup of tea in the manor’s library. And one cannot demand affection any more than loyalty. ‘Tis a thing that is earned, Master Alphinaud. Do not begrudge her her shyness.

Shy was not a word Alphinaud would have used, back then. But Edmont was right. Having seen her affection to recognize it, now, he knew it was a thing to be valued. A privilege.

He glanced up once more to see that it was Hanami’s turn to twist in her seat and lean against Ser Aymeric’s shoulder. The two of them were bickering in lower voices, now, about her cousins and her mothers, some joke Alphinaud lacked context for. Ser Aymeric had put an arm at her waist to steady her and her arm lay along the chair’s back. The whole tableau was rather...conspiratorial.

Alphinaud looked once more to his own work.

Technically speaking it was one of his better pieces. Bride and groom posed straight-backed and proper, Ser Aymeric in his seat and Hanami at his shoulder (not quite traditional but necessary, with the disparity in their heights). He had yet to finish the highlights and shadows but the color blocking of their clothing was enough to provide the illusion of her skirts cascading, of both their jewelry glinting in the lamplight. Ser Aymeric retained a hint of humor about him. Hanami was unsmiling. It was precisely what she had asked for. They seemed near-lifelike on the canvas, almost as realistic as the images from one of the Ironworks’ new photocells, and it would fit perfectly among the portraits already displayed throughout the manor.

He looked once more to his subjects, who had either forgotten him or were uncaring of his observation, and lifted his box of paints to free the sketchpad from underneath.

Not oils—acrylics, maybe, on board with wide brushstrokes; the devil would be entirely in the details which he wouldn’t have time to reproduce, so better to take an impressionistic approach. Perhaps chalks for the background, gentle and dreamlike. She would be in a shirt and trousers, and Aymeric in something similar, the sort of outfit he sported when he ventured to Mor Dhona—best not to fuss about fabrics or patterns, just color and the shapes of the figures themselves, bent close and ignorant of the viewer. No faces, or at least nothing so detailed as his usual work. Maybe hers could be hidden by her hair, and his lost to shadow. Alphinaud wouldn’t be able to ask them to pose again so he moved swiftly, glancing up to mark down the important things: the set of their shoulders and backs, the lines of their arms. The movement of the eye from one body to the next in a slow wave, from hand to head to—well, Hanami’s legs were hidden by her dress but that was alright, he could figure something else out. Perhaps perched on a box, or a table. She seemed to do that often enough and there was a stack of crates in the Stones that would serve as suitable reference—

“My apologies, Master Alphinaud,” Ser Aymeric said, and Alphinaud looked up from his hasty notes and rough linework. “It was not my intention to cause such a distraction.”

Hanami had straightened a little and slid from her seat on the arm of the chair, nudging aside her abandoned shoes, but her hand lingered near Aymeric’s shoulder.

“It’s no bother,” Alphinaud said, and carefully laid aside his sketchpad. “I was only making a note to myself. Do you feel ready to continue?”

“If you are,” Hanami said, less animated than before.

“Only a few minutes more, then,” Alphinaud said, and retrieved his brush. “Before I lose my place. We’ve been at this for long enough today.”

Aymeric braced his elbow on the chair’s arm again, and Hanami retook her spot, shoulders set and her hand removed to the wood. But the room still seemed warm with the echo of laughter.

“I realize it’s a bit late in the evening,” Aymeric said, perfectly polite once more. “But you are more than welcome to join us for dinner after, Master Alphinaud.”

His first instinct was to refuse—head still buzzing with inspiration even as his hand moved of its own accord, and he itched to hole up at his writing desk at Fortemps Manor and at least finish a base sketch—but he caught himself in time. Hanami still seemed at ease and she nodded, her own silent echo of the offer.

“I would be glad to,” he said. “Thank you.”

Perhaps he would write Krile for help—she’d done some extracurricular study of artificing. He would have to ensure that the paint didn’t crack when he shrunk the board down. He would need a suitable vessel, too; maybe Urianger would have some inspiration, or Tataru. A frame to be strung on Hanami’s necklace? If he could get it that small. The more portable the better: something not to be displayed but to be cherished. A tiny piece of private affection.

Alphinaud shook his head and returned to the work in front of him. That would have to wait until after this session, and after dinner. The Artist Alphinaud had a degree of professionalism to maintain and a commission to complete.

Alphinaud the Scion, however, was in for a number of late nights, but that was alright. It would be an exciting challenge and a good exercise in departing from his usual style.

It wouldn’t be perfect, but it would be heartfelt. A good wedding gift.

He hid his grin behind the canvas and set to work once more. Best not to waste time. He was on a deadline.

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

Will you do your fave book? Or if you already did it, the next fave? And so on...

Short opinion: I am constantly torn between wishing that The Beginning was twice its actual length and being in awe that Applegate manages to cram so much into a sparse 156 pages.

Long opinion: 

As I mentioned here, #54 is actually my favorite book in the series.  I’m probably the only fandalite on the planet for whom that is true, but I am a complete and utter sucker for tragedy. And this is tragedy in its purest form.  Tragedy is frustratingly hard to find in contemporary American stories, because it offers no happiness or culmination at the end.  Bad guys don’t always get punished; good guys don’t ever get medals from princesses or happy retirements into the sunset or reunions with lost loved ones; the very notions of “bad” and “good” get irreversibly complicated.  A tragedy is the story of well-intentioned and deeply sympathetic protagonist(s) coming to a bad end that is at least partially one’s own fault, at least partially the fault of random Shit Happens, and entirely coherent and fitting with the tiny cascade of random events that led to the fall of a lightning-struck tower.  

The purpose of comedy (i.e. stories with happy endings) is easy entertainment.  The purpose of tragedy is to inspire fear and horror through making the audience wonder whether it is possible for each of them to meet a similar end.  With the arguable exception of Cassie, every one of the Animorphs gets his or her own tragedy in the end.  This series is a war epic about the costs of violence.  It was never going to have a happy ending.

Rachel’s loss, in the opening moments, is the most obvious character culmination of the series.  She has been struggling for months if not years to define herself outside of the war, attacked on all sides (her best friend, her boyfriend, her cousin and field commander, her own mother) for the very role that they all nonetheless demand that she perform in order to keep them all safe, not only from the yeerks but from themselves.  Rachel has been the team’s first and last line of defense since the EGS tower battle (#7), and has all-but taken on the title of trash collector since becoming the one to handle David (#22).  Killing Tom is her final act of protecting her found family; completing the suicide run is her final ability to use her comfort with violence to do something good.  She might have done and even become terrible things, but she ultimately succeeds in turning that terror against an even greater evil in her last moments of life.

Arguably the next domino to fall is Tobias.  I’m with Cates: his is the ending I find the least satisfying, because it devalues his friendship-cum-familyhood with Ax.  However, I also can’t say that Applegate didn’t set that ending up.  As early as #13 Tobias shows worrying signs of codependency with Rachel; as early as #3 he proves willing to retreat into his hawk side when the going gets tough.  The scene where “Ken and Barbie” disturb his self-imposed exile through their simple reminder of humanity suggests that Tobias’s retreat isn’t nearly as complete as he’d like it to be, but then he’s never been able to escape being human no matter how hard he tries (see: #3, #33, #43, #49).

Part of what I find so fascinating about Jake’s character arc (fascinating enough that I wrote a goddamn novel or two on the subject) is how much his family story starts complicating this hyper-normative idea of married-parents-two-kids-fenced-backyard-golden-retriever-nice-neighborhood-white-upper-middle-class familyhood starting right in the first book, and how it only makes things worse once the war is over. Jake’s family continues to look “perfect” (i.e. normative) from the moment he first gets home and joins his brother and parents (and resident yeerk) for a home-cooked dinner in #1 all the way up until the alien inside his mom is firing a dracon beam at him from the front seat of her minivan, putting the first scar on the otherwise flawless siding on the facade of their two-story McMansion in #49.  So it’s only natural that Jake’s first thought on committing fratricide in the immediate aftermath of mass murder is to wonder “how would [he] explain this to [his] parents,” and it makes a fair amount of sense that he basically tries to retreat back to that safe haven he (unlike all of his friends) has before the war begins (#54).  But Jake can’t go home; home isn’t there for him to retreat to anymore.  His desire to retreat back to his childhood home borders on pathological, since in many ways he’s older than his parents have ever been, and he’s gone beyond the point where he could ever hope to give his burdens back to them.  

And then there are three.  And then two.

There are two details about Ax’s role in the final book that I find really fascinating.  The first is that line (which I quote all the time, because I find it so revelatory) where Cassie describes herself and Marco as “the only two real survivors” of the war (#54).  Why isn’t Ax included in the list of “survivors” along with Cassie and Marco, even though he’s alive and (physically) well at the time?  My guess would be the hints that he is, in his own way, just as addicted to risk and violence as Rachel ever was.  He doesn’t know how to survive without the war, which leaves him “looking for trouble” in his “boredom”—right up until he recklessly stumbles upon enough “trouble” to get his entire crew killed (#54).  That chapter also contains the other fascinating detail: it’s labeled “Aximili,” not “Ax” the way his chapters are in all the Megamorphs books.  Ax has at least partially given up on the identity he fought so hard to forge throughout the entire book series.  He has retreated back into being what his society expects him to be: a leader, a warrior, and an andalite who does not concern himself much with alien cultures.  He continues playing that role, apparently indifferent to what is happening with Tobias and the others on Earth, right up to his death.

Quick side note: I find it so cool (by which I mean excruciatingly painful) that each of the Animorphs gets what they wanted in the first books in the series—and that those dreams prove to be so hollow once achieved.  Rachel gets eternal glory, and the ultimate thrill ride along the way (#2).  Ax surpasses Elfangor in reputation and respect (#8).  Jake fulfills his daydreams of being treated as a superhero (#2), and of going home to his family (#1).  Marco gets to be not only “an entire episode of Stupid Pet Tricks” but quite possibly the most famous person alive (#2).  Tobias escapes his life and manages once and for all to “fly free” (#3).  Cassie finds a non-violent way to change the world (#4); she even gets to be a horse for a while along the way (#29).  And it’s nothing like any of them thought it would be.  None of their childhood dreams have much feasibility or even appeal by the time they are some of the weariest, most mature and worn-out adults of their generation.  Only Cassie manages to find satisfaction in getting everything she ever wanted.

Only Cassie… because Marco’s not quite a “survivor” either.  He brags about his fame and materialism, sure—but then we’ve never been able to trust Marco’s narration.  (See: the amount of time he spends obfuscating and/or lying to the reader in #30, #25, #15, and #35.)  If you ask Marco outright, everything’s fine and it always has been.  But then Marco describes Jake and Tobias showing up with an offer of a suicide mission as “everything around me turned translucent, like it was all fake… an old reality emerged from beneath the illusion” (#54).  Even before that scene, it’s striking just how much time Marco spends obsessing over Jake.  Marco freely admits to Cassie that he acquired an eagle morph for the specific purpose of following Jake around to spy on him, spends almost half the alleged description of his own life talking about how poorly Jake is functioning, and actually talks Jake into leading his crazy suicide mission for Jake’s own sake.  What Marco doesn’t mention—and what we can assume from Jake’s own narration doesn’t happen—is him actually picking up the phone to call Jake and ask him if he wants to talk.  The flash and glam and seven cars and heated pool and personal butler are yet more misdirection; Marco’s not okay.  He’s just telling us about all the ways Jake’s not okay because that’s safer than admitting his own vulnerability.  Jake says “Marco, you were bored out of your mind” and Marco unhesitatingly agrees (#54).  Marco spends so much time trying to convince everyone of how very happy he is with materialism and Hollywood glam that he fools Cassie, he fools Tobias, he all but fools himself… but he never fools Jake.  Which is why he has to keep Jake at arm’s length, no matter how much his guilt at doing so might eat him up as he’s sitting around watching Jake watching Rachel’s grave in the middle of the night.

And then there’s Cassie.  Cassie who I’ve compared to an anti-Susan Pevensie, Cassie who finds a man who treats her right and uses power for good without resorting to violence.  Marco, who was the last to join the war effort, might have eventually been able to find equilibrium if he’d been willing to get a haircut and get a real job (X). Cassie, who is unafraid to work on her own and leave her team when something needs doing and they can’t help her (#19, #29, #43, #44), is already living a new normal.  Jake is right when he says that Cassie’s “a one-woman army,” and he’s right that she’s “the soldier who has fought her war and moved on.”  The two Animorphs with the least “addiction” to the war emerge from the other side the most intact (#22). Cassie’s never going to be the same person she was, but she understands that.  She doesn’t try to hide from the past, she doesn’t try to retreat into it; she picks herself up and figures out a way to live on her own.  She shows that there’s hope for life after war, but also that there’s no returning to childhood.  She lives, and keeps on living, even after two (maybe three, maybe five) of her fellow Animorphs have been eaten alive by the war.  Because right from the start, Cassie has been comfortable with leaving her team behind—and in the end, she leaves her team behind, and she can’t save a single goddamn one of them.

It’s not a happy ending.  It’s not a comforting ending.  It’s not the kind of ending that suggests people get what they deserve and deserve what they get.  It doesn’t offer the comfortable reassurance that the right ends will justify any means.  It’s the kind of ending that gets in your head, burrows down deep, reads through your memories, and won’t leave you alone.

Don’t get me wrong: I love these characters.  They were my heroes and my idols and my ink-and-paper friends throughout my childhood.  They’ve taught me as much as a lot of real people I’ve known in my life, and there’s a part of me that does want them to live happily ever after.  But if they did, they would lose a lot of the realness that makes them so precious and so painful to love in the first place.

[tinymixtapes]

Music Review: King Vision Ultra - Pain of Mind

King Vision Ultra Pain of Mind [Ascetic House; 2018] Rating: 4.5/5 “It was like bondage for me. It was like slavery.” – a voice, emanating around 35:50 “In the wake, the semiotics of the slave ship continue: from the forced movements of the enslaved to the forced movements of the migrant and the refugee, to the regulation of Black people in North American streets and neighborhoods[,] to the reappearances of the slave ship in everyday life in the form of the prison, the camp, and the school.” – Christina Sharpe, In the Wake Sound thumps through registers of the stereophone (the ineluctable modality of the audial), and it is so loud and the cells — swanging. Boom-bap billows heave in on around despite. Place unfurls into space and sound (interning everything in its wake by and with its carceral panoptics) just as those markers (but not the marked) disintegrate as the hold erases specificities, bodies, attachments, gestures. Lockjaw, locked up, lockstep, sawed off, there is a thump there and a rattle, too. There is no there there, except the voices and the scratching of the cockroaches, the pleading and the negotiating, the longue durée of G-funk plunderphonics drifting into the sound of the alarm, the sound of the baton, the rattles and rackets and ruptures of the captivity of human beings. We slink with King Vision Ultra (Val Bertelsen) into Rikers, into the hold, a present incarnation of the incarceration, disciplining, and dehumanization of black life undertaken to secure and securitize racial capital in the long half-millennium since its colonial inception. The pitched-up, pitched-down, scatterbrained, and scattershot voices churn in the hold of the prison, the hold of the ship, their disembodied (inter/trans)locutors ungendered and the atmosphere that they create and by which they are in turn inflected ungenred (“genre,” of course, marks the closest word the French language has to express “gender”). Hortense Spillers (2003, 214) writes, “under these conditions [of the abduction and subsequent deportation across the Atlantic of enslaved Africans] we lose at least gender difference in the outcome, and the female body and the male body become a territory of cultural and political maneuver, not at all gender-related, gender-specific.” Emblematizing what Christina Sharpe (2016) calls wake work, Bertelsen’s cassette for Ascetic House presents “a mode of inhabiting and rupturing this episteme [of violent ubiquitous dehumaning antiblackness] with our known lived and un/imaginable lives [in order to] imagine otherwise from what we know now in the wake of slavery” (Sharpe 18). Bertelsen ushers us into one of the contemporary iterations of the hold so that we might know its pain and its place, so that we might see its dehumaning dysgraphia as part and parcel of “the ongoing willful disasters of the wake” (Sharpe 94). Underwritten by the slave ship, the coffle, the enslaved woman’s womb, the prison and as the black people shuttled and violated within them, the “anagrammatical blackness that exists as an index of violability and also potentiality” (that damning doubling that articulates the simultaneous liquidation of black life and optimization of black bodies’ abilities to produce and reproduce) disrupts and forecloses the moves made by Bertelsen. Mixed up, twirled, torqued, twerked, refusing the slaveholding logics of partus sequitur ventrem (that which is brought forth follows the womb), the oral offspring of Bertelsen’s incarcerated (inter/trans)locutors garble into unplaceable static, unmappable, no longer owned. Living in/as/with and sublating “the afterlife of property,” Bertelsen’s aural poetics here muddle the performative capture of the bequest — the intergenerational transmission of property perfected in its contemporary form, as shown by Jennifer Morgan, through the bodies and futures of enslaved black people — stuttering and jumbling its passage into ownership and valorization (Sharpe 15). Bertelsen scrambles the hermeneutic of valorization through devaluation (of the human through the recognized and surveilled and algorithmically predicted and held and held and held), scribbling a palimpsest over the anagrammatic orthography of antiblackness of but also always gurgling somewhere beyond the wake. As Morgan notes, “the archive [and the scenes it discloses] is [not only] a site of violent dispossession [but also] a point of departure, not a conclusion” (Morgan 2016, 186); Bertelsen’s speakers speak out as they “are constituted through and by continued vulnerability to this overwhelming force [but] are not only known to [them]selves and each other by that force” (Sharpe 134). Schizophrenia, the voices always talking: another hold, another capture, reiterating the orthography, verbalized and dissociative. Lives rent by the wake tearing into multiplicities, into impossible contradictions, productive contradictions: the contradictions that intercept the aspects of life that can’t be funneled into the production of surplus value. Pain of mind as analytics, as a vice of the hold. When she cut her wrists with shards of glass, she was slapped with 90 days in solitary for possession of contraband. Her refusals to stop trying to kill herself often resulted in more time. More time: more decomposing of time and agency, more disciplining into the “numbers, the arithmetics of the skin, the shadow of the whip” (McKittrick 2014 23). When she was denied sanitary pads and used her jumper to stop the bleeding, that earned her time for destruction of jail property. Doing time for destruction of jail property: life in the wake is/as (the conjuncture of is and as — verb and preposition — articulating the ongoing processes of dispossession and incarceration conjugating the present tense with confinement within the hold policed by antiblackness and the criminalization of poverty) life in the longue durée of the inhospitable weather that authorized (and continues to authorize) the transubstantiation of black life into property “(by which process we might understand the making of bodies into flesh and then into fungible commodities while retaining the appearance of flesh and blood)” (Sharpe 29). The mathematics of black life (McKittrick) as that demonic orthography that trans*literates social poesis into production, into quantized and quantified appendages brutalized in and by the ledger. From Saidiya Hartman (2008, 6): “Black lives are still imperiled and devalued by a racial calculus and a political arithmetic that were entrenched centuries ago. This is the afterlife of slavery — skewed life chances, limited access to health and education, premature death, incarceration, impoverishment.” A voice telling you: You are going to fail before you do anything. Pain Of Mind by King Vision Ultra Blackness as debit: an entry recording an amount owed, listed on the left — hand side or column of an account (OED), the ditto ditto of the slaver’s log evacuating the black enslaved individual of any ontological claim beyond the production and reproduction of dead labor (cargo and its afterlives as property); blackness as debt (Moten), the lived excess of the commodity form excised and abjected and abjured, the ongoing structural constitutive violence of Western Modernity, uncreditable, incredible, always charged but never payable, both owing and threatening the contract that criminalizes the humanity it forlornly holds. I would just pray and think of a way to kill myself. Pray to God that I would die, and ask him why am I being punished like this if he knows I’m innocent. Blackness as incurable guilt, as the purgatory of penitence, as the penitentiary of purgatory. What makes Pain of Mind wake work rather than another genre of radical discourse is that it ascertains the conditions of the possibility of antiblackness beyond what Frank Wilderson calls the “contingent violence” of situations and tessellates the imprisonment, degradation, and state violences of the prison within the orthography of the wake as an ongoing and “gratuitous” mode of forcibly, violently, fatally circumscribing black being (or blackness as non-Being) (Wilderson 2010, 56). I see things that other people don’t see and stuff like that: the first words we hear on the project speak to a re-cognition (not recognition) of the frameworks that subtend the everyday devaluation, incarceration, dispossession, and traumatization of black people living in the wake. Motivating the conflagration of catastrophes (minor and major) is Bertelsen’s indelible labor of care: care as an analytics, care as an ethics of engagement, care as an aesthetics. As wake work — as visitation, as uncapitalizable exchange, as discomfiting but kinmaking being-with — brings us to linger, to “stay in the wake with […] those whom the state positions to die ungrievable deaths and live lives meant to be unlivable” (Sharpe 22), we glimmer alongside and beside, beside ourselves (the voices) and beside the people systematically expropriated and brutalized as the insurance in bodies crediting the extractive flows of racial capitalism. Besides, despite the ontological and phenomenological facts of their lives in the hold — the enveloping valences of their incarceration — the people we hear on Pain of Mind are granted a venue in which to be otherwise, in which to be beheld. That which is beheld is insisted and insisting, and we become beholden to them, duty bound, no longer twain (of mind), “intramural” (Spillers 1998). And just as the verb “to behold” improvises across bodies and subject positions (the beholden behold the beheld), Pain of Mind cuts across the shattered coordinates of antiblack violence and refuses to plot them (in a line, as a graph, as development) along the violent calculus — that spectral residue of the integral — of mathematized blackness. Pain of Mind invites us to “sit[] in the room with history” (Dionne Brand 2002, 28), the past that is not yet past (Brand), the schizophrenic mind, the cell, the hold, the wake. In this wake, we float past the passé, past-tense, hogtied, handwringing, hamstrung, dispossessed, gentrified idiom of “woke” — always already prefigured by the black death that necessitated its inception — as Bertelsen, along with Sharpe, Brand, Spillers, Hartman, McKittrick, Moten, Wilderson, rouses us into the oceanic vastness of care. A/wake. http://j.mp/2N5c2pr