#and was like 'oh! time to seriously discuss every experience of aromanticism i have :)'

[just-another-hhazbin]

Alright it is time to risk getting myself cancelled. Today we’re going to be talking about aspd, aka anti-social personality disorder.  I’m making this post because I haven’t seen one that discusses everything I wanna talk about so here we are.

What is anti-social personality disorder?  In the barest essentials, it is an emotional disorder where it is very difficult to empathize with other people and understand their emotions, have high levels of apathy, etc. Sometimes it also correlates with very low impulse control.

In other words, it’s what some of y’all like to call sociopathy and psychopathy.

Let’s get one thing clear first - sociopathy and psychopathy are not actual pscyhology-approved words. ASPD is. However, the media and culture (or at least American culture, which is what I have first-hand experience with) has villianized and exaggerated it into this common trend where every criminal or horror figure HAS to be a sociopath or psychopath. 

Yeah, as one does with mental illnesses. Thanks, Hollywood + Government.

So right off the bat - please I beg of you to stop using psychopath and sociopath to describe someone “crazy” or “evil.” Stop that. (I’m not saying never ever use the word. Some characters are gonna say slurs cause they be like that. But you, personally, should know better. And also stop putting it in your story summaries and character descriptions, goddamn.) 

You are perpetuating a false narrative. It is estimated that 1 in 100 people in America have ASPD. Someone you know probably has it, even if they haven’t been officially diagnosed or even know they have it. If they do know, they’re probably really damn sick of hearing that comparison. 

ASPD is also not an aesthetic, and you know exactly who you are. If you want the edgy serial killer aesthetic I am certainly not going to judge you, but for the love of everything leave aspd out of it.

Someone with ASPD is not emotionless.  That’s another false narrative we can chuck out the window. It is true that they might be quicker to temper or seem somewhat cold or analytical, but those are hardly traits limited to those with ASPD. Some people do have higher levels of apathy and/or narcissis than others, but none of us are robots so cut that generalizing shit out.

As with most things, ASPD is a spectrum with different levels of effect and functionality. Someone who is more affected by ASPD but has been to therapy may have a higher functionality than someone with a milder situation. 

Personal experiences shape individuals, shocking, I know.

Also, just because someone has ASPD does not mean that they cannot form relationships or friendships. It may be difficult to understand empathy but sympathy can often be managed, and it is possible to feel affection and friendship in some form for even the most severe cases. 

It also doesn’t mean that they can or will ever develop empathy. We are viewing the same world but with different lenses, and that is okay. 

We might not see friendships or relationships the same but that doesn’t mean we can’t form attachments or feel a sort of acknowledged possessiveness that is the equivalent for some of us.

That there is a lack of empathy doesn’t make someone a bad person. It is still possible for someone without empathy to look at a bad thing and know it exists and not do it because they have A) their own moral code that may not make sense to the normative lense or B) they have self-preservation and/or a basic understanding of social norms and fucking decency.

“But I know someone who did [x bad thing] and THEY were diagnosed with sociopathy/psychopathy!”

First off, I’d like to see who made that diagnossis, since again, those aren’t considered valid terminology by the majority of the modern psychology world. Secondly, I bet I can fiind at least a hundred to a thousand to a million people who did [x bad thing] and don’t have aspd. Correlation does not equal causation, people.

You don’t have to understand something to still choose to do it. We might not understand why someone would be affected by x action, but we can choose what impact we make. There is no little sociopath/psychopath demon running around in our head laughing maniacally and pressing “evil” buttons. (This is a thing that therapy can help with though, especially for some people. For others it’s more a matter of socialization and exposure and it’s a learning process for everyone, aspd or not.)

I would also like to take a moment here to say that if someone tries to excuse their abusive behavior with “I have aspd/[x mental illness here]” it is just that - an excuse. If they are in a situation where they really cannot control themselves, then it is time to go to therapy or call counseling services and in any case you yourself are in no way indebted to helping them or staying in a dangerous relationship.

Anyway, disclaimer over, moving on.

A lot of this has been discussed around, so here’s onto something I’ve been seeing a lot of recently, especially in fandom and certain LGBTQ+ spaces, and am getting really sick of.

ASEXUALITY, AROMANTICISM, AND ASPD DO NOT HAVE TO BE LINKED

The ace =/= aro argument has already been said a thousand times, but I’ll say it again. Both asexuality and aromanticism are spectrums and they do not go hand in hand. People who want sex might not want love and people who want love might not want sex and, once again, that is OKAY. 

Now, onto the aspd factor - lately I’ve been seeing a lot of people saying “oh, such and such character is ace/aro/acearo, they MUST have aspd [or other terms]” or “such and such is a psychopath/sociopath and SO, they’re aro.”

Stop that.

Seriously.

Someone may very well have aspd and be ace, or aro, or acearo. But once again, correlation does not equal causation. I do get that on some level it’s understandable to play someone with aspd as aromantic in particular, but the lense is far too narrow, especially when it turns into a “must” situation.

Maybe what you would consider “romantic love” isn’t the same as someone with aspd would consider “romantic love,” but that doesn’t mean that they don’t experience it. Individuals have their own individual identities and definitions. 

There aren’t unbreakable chains attaching aspd, asexuality, and aromanticism together. It is perfectly okay to be all of those things at once or have a character that is all of those things, but please remember that they are all independent traits and are spectrums that show themselves in a variety of ways.

Also, don’t call being aromantic or asexuality a mental illness. Seen that one making the rounds again too and it’s fucking stupid. Stop it and just admit to being ace/arophobic so I can block you and move on.

~Disclaimer that I am NOT a psychologist, just a tired bastard.~

[elyreywrites]

do you know who you are?

a fic written for Pride Month 2020!! (yes, i know pride month is over, but i posted this on AO3 on June 30th so.) this is a projection fic. it’s not an exact projection of my experience, nor is it meant to be a generalized representation. this isn’t everyone’s experience.

warnings: slight mention of Jack and Janet Drake potentially being homophobic, and discussion of compulsory heterosexuality

thank you to my betas in the Capes & Coffee Discord - Bumpkin, ZulieTheProgrammer, and Oceans!!

title is from Moana’s “I am Moana”!

please REBLOG - DO NOT REPOST

AO3 Link

Teen 1,678 words Bart Allen & Tim Drake & Kon-El | Conner Kent slight one-sided Tim Drake/Jason Todd - as in, tiny-Tim has a crush on Robin-Jason

Summary:

He’s twelve and watching Robin fight. He’s seventeen and staring up at the ceiling. He’s nineteen and text-spamming his best friends.

Tim’s growing up and finding himself, and he would really appreciate if the Realizations didn’t happen when he’s trying to sleep. Kon and Bart would probably appreciate that as well.

- - - - -

It starts as he’s watching the second Robin knock out some muggers. It’s not the first time Tim has seen Jason’s Robin take down a group of criminals, but it’s the first time that he nearly gives himself away as he squeaks.

 Jason’s so strong, and cool, and pretty, and – oh. Ah. Okay.

He calls it a night at that, bright red from the questions that are swimming around in his head. He spends most of the trip home lost in thought. When he’s sitting on his bed, one of his best pictures of Jason’s Robin sitting in front of him, he gives them a voice. Talking usually helps him get his thoughts in order. “Okay,” he whispers, “do I like boys?” He doesn’t dislike them – not at all. But does he like them? Maybe, but… how is he supposed to know? “Is that too big of a topic?” he wonders aloud to the picture. “Let’s start with this: Do I like Robin? Jason-Robin.”

That doesn’t turn his brain into a jumbled mess like the previous question did. Of course he likes Jason-Robin. He’s absolutely amazing, protecting people and checking on the working girls and kicking criminal ass! He’s only a couple years older than Tim is, but he does so much more! And he’s real in a way Dick isn’t.

Jason’s just a kid like Tim, though they have such different backgrounds. Dick was a trained acrobat, with skills Tim never really believed he could learn. Jason seemed closer. He was still more amazing than Tim could ever hope to be, but it wasn’t an entirely impossible stretch like it was with Dick.

“And he’s so passionate, especially when it’s a kid that’s in danger. And every time he smiles, it just makes me so happy that I kind of want to giggle and—” Tim stops babbling. He doesn’t need to anymore, after basically answering his own question. Yes, he does like Jason Todd, the current Robin. As in, he has a crush on him. Tim falls back on his bed to stare up at the ceiling.

“Well,” he says, “that explains the weird, squirmy feeling I get in my stomach every time I imagine talking to him.” That feeling is always accompanied by a fierce blush and Tim hiding his face for a good two minutes. He thinks he probably should have caught on sooner. Deciding that was enough Realizing Things for the night, Tim quickly locks the picture of Robin up with the rest and collapses on his bed to sleep.

The next day – a Saturday, which is Mrs. Mac’s day off – Tim hops on the computer and starts researching. He has a crush on one boy, but Tim still thinks girls can be cool. Batgirl is pretty awesome, after all! After a few hours and a lot of new information, he settles back on his bed again. He’s bisexual, and sexuality can apparently be really fluid. In all honesty, it didn’t take him hours to find the term, he just fell into a rabbit hole of researching sexual orientation and gender identities. Tim’s fairly secure in his gender, but he’s glad to have learned. It’s something to keep in mind about other people – to not assume anything based on appearances.

He’s bisexual, with a crush on a boy, and his parents will still expect him to only date girls. At least the boy was Robin and completely unattainable.

- - -

Years later, Tim is laying on his bed, staring at the ceiling once again. It’s a different bed by now, in his own apartment at seventeen. The thing is, he’s pretty sure he has no interest in romance. And now his brain was mixing everything up in a tangle of thoughts and feelings again.

“Holding hands is nice,” he admits. “I like cuddling. That was fine.” He hasn’t gone further than making out with anyone, so that’s about the limit of his physical experience. It’s the implication of emotions that makes him want to skitter away. Specifically, emotions of the romantic variety. Now Tim’s reassessing every romantic relationship he’s had, though he’s only ever dated women.

At the time, he had thought he was happy while in each relationship, but… it’s becoming much more likely that it’s because he was previously starved for affection. He suddenly got that affection while dating someone. That thought makes him want to hide from everyone he’s ever dated. Stephanie is the only one he really still has to see, and that has him burrowing under his blankets.

It sounds awful, honestly. Like he was using the relationship to get the affection he so desperately wanted. Logically, he might be overthinking this. He just wishes his dumb brain would tell that to his anxiety and the ingrained societal expectations. “I didn’t mean to,” he mumbled into the blankets.

Romance, dating, being happy in a relationship? He has no other experiences to reference! He didn’t know that something wasn’t right.

Hell, he’s only having this Realization because a woman was flirting with him at a gala and asked if he would like to get dinner together sometime. A romantic dinner date with a woman he wasn’t close to. The entire scenario would be romance with no physical affection, and that didn’t sound pleasant in the slightest. It did, however, make him realize that he might need to think things through again.

So, here he is. Thinking things through. No romance – if he’s remembering his research correctly, the term is ‘aromantic’, similar to ‘asexual’. Asexuality was something he’d heard more about over the years, but he rarely heard of aromanticism. It had just stuck out because while the terms were similar, their meanings were pretty different.

Now he’s glad it stuck in his mind. It gives him less reason to panic about being confused. So, he was bisexual and aromantic. That’s fine! He’s a vigilante, romantic relationships would be difficult anyway.

- - -

A year and a half later, Tim’s fingers fly across the screen of his phone, sending text after text without waiting for a response. Either his friends would wake up or they wouldn’t. Hopefully they would.

Tim: Oh my god. Guys, wake up, I’m an idiot. Bart, Kon, please. I’m so dumb. How the hell am I this oblivious? I’m not bi-aro at all. I’m just fucking gay. It’s 5 am and I can’t sleep, and I just want a boyfriend. I want to do couple things, like cuddle up while watching movies.

Clone Trooper: dude, it’s the middle of the night. why do you do this to us?

Tim feels no sympathy for his friends – he’s been running on less than six hours of sleep for years. Sometimes less than four hours. High school and vigilantism don’t mix well. Anyway, they can deal with waking up to deal with his Realization.

Sonic: bro we cuddle up when we watch movies are we not good enough for you anymore

Tim: Yeah, but that’s platonic, Bart. And yes, I’m aware of the time. I’d like to be asleep too, but I’m lonely and sad and having Realizations! Suffer with me.

Clone Trooper: … suffer how? are you expecting us to have an existential crisis too, or is this just suffering by being awake?

Tim: Being awake. It’s not an existential crisis, it’s just a Realization.

Sonic: its the middle of the night i think it can be deemed an existential crisis

Tim: But seriously, someone please tell me how I jumped passed the logical conclusion I should have come to of “I’m just not attracted to women” and directly to “I have no interest in romance at all”? How did that make sense to me?

Sonic: society conditioned u to like women

Tim blinks at his screen. Bart isn’t wrong, but Tim has absolutely no idea where he’s going with that. He already had the Realization about societal conditioning, thanks.

Tim: Okay? I’m aware, but I’m not sure how that translates to how I didn’t think of the logical conclusion.

Sonic: dude. for years it was a fact – since you were a kid u were so conditioned that u should like women it was just a fact

Clone Trooper: think of it like this, tim: as far as you knew, you liked women. later, you figured out you like guys, but you still think you like women too.

Tim: We’ve established, yeah.

Clone Trooper: so, suddenly something is weird. the only really new thing is that there is romance involved. so that’s clearly gotta be the issue.

Oh. He stares so long the screen goes dark. He drops his phone on the bed and stares up at the ceiling, turning that over in his head. So. He jumped to not wanting romance because it was so deeply ingrained that he was supposed to like women? His exhausted brain seems to accept this explanation enough to calm the edge of self-recriminations.

Tim: That. Makes sense, I guess. But still, it really seems like I should’ve realized a while ago. Also, I’m kind of surprised that you aren’t teasing me for being oblivious.

Sonic: oh thats coming but teasing is saved for when u arent having a crisis

Clone Trooper: later, we’ll absolutely laugh about that jump in logic. but right now it’s too early and you’re already having A Time.

He’s not sure if he has wonderful friends or terrible friends. Tim suspects that he’s still going to hear about this in a few years. It’s the kind of thing they won’t let die for a while.

Tim: Fair enough.

Clone Trooper: great, glad we got that cleared up! now tim...

Tim: What?

Clone Trooper: please. GO THE FUCK TO SLEEP.

Snickering, Tim plugs his phone in and smothers his face in the pillow. He’s still lonely and he still wants to analyze every missed evidence over the years, but he’s also exhausted. The chat with his friends did get his brain to shut up enough that he might actually be able to sleep. He can rethink his entire life again after he wakes up.

[adhd-ahamilton]

also ahhhhhhh this subject again but just man I feel like I must have such different experiences with LGBT+ terms than other queer historians?

I didn’t grow up thinking ‘I’m different to everyone else, maybe I’m one of those people, oh god’. I grew up thinking ‘...wait, aren’t I just doing the normal thing? Doesn’t everyone do this? ...what do you mean nobody does??? And, wait, you’re telling me everyone actually does that thing????’

When I was a teenager, almost everyone I encountered IRL would say that gay people existed, but bi people didn’t - they were just looking for attention, or super promiscuous, or trying to deny they were gay. Even most major gay celebrities were the same. my first big experience with the queer community was fandom spaces where the existence of bisexuality was a major discussion point, and diving into that argument space was my first real taste of any kind of activism. (Even if it took me a couple years to realise why I felt so strongly about it.) But even now, occasionally, I forget how bisexuality works? Like my brain will just forget to make a concession for it, and then my conscious mind will be like ‘wait... forgot something here’, or I’ll even just stop...understanding it? Like for a minute or so I’ll be just like ‘wait is that even a real thing actually? suddenly it just sounds really not real?’

And that’s the easy part. Nowadays, hardly anybody who is taken seriously denies that bisexuality exists. Asexuality, though? Totally different story - literally on this website, in queer spaces, I keep randomly coming across people claiming that sexuals are just cringy straight people wanting something, or gay people with internalised homophobia, or all mentally ill. And aromanticism? Even if it’s brought up, unless it’s by an actual aro person, it’s almost always just treated as an unimportant optional subset of asexuality.

For me, believing in these things isn’t just... a matter of unconscious modern common sense that I don’t even question. I had to learn about it all, educating myself on the topic (and then educating some people I know IRL too, because they sure as hell didn’t know), and continually reminding myself of the influence of heteronormativity and how it erases all non-straight identities, not just gay/lesbian identities. It’s been hard, because a lot of the time I didn’t want to believe it, and at other times I found myself wondering whether this was all in my head and I was just less than human. But that’s what makes the words themselves important and powerful to me. Saying ‘asexual’ is saying to the world ‘this is just as valid, important, and real a way to exist as any other identity’ - as ‘heterosexual’. It dignifies it by placing it on equal standing, and its usage reminds you that it’s not just a matter of celibacy or whatever - it’s a different way of being that needs to be analysed on its own, not ignored.

And that’s not even the end of it. I mean, take ‘’’mogai culture’’’ (the term used by gay people who wanna be homophobic and transphobic but pretend they’re being progressive about it). Plenty of people have commented on how hugely many ace and aro identites there are going around on tumblr. But that’s because, when you live your life having no idea what you are and then come across a word that makes you go ‘aha - it all makes sense now!’ it makes total sense to see the power of those words and want to help others achieve that, or just want to contribute to the culture in general with more words. (Especially since aspecs have been erased from queer culture for decades and now have little culture of our own so we’re trying to catch up fast.)

And I’m not saying that this makes me more objective. But I don’t think it makes me any more subjective either - there are other LGBT+ people out there (especially gay men I’d wager, but it seems to be common among lesbians as well) who have been so exhausted with being constantly identified as Gay that they just want to get away from that and be a person. It’s all just a different point of view. I mean, one time I looked up a book (I think it was actually ‘the Invention of Heterosexuality’ actually) and one review was of a woman saying ‘I can certainly understand - I’m so used to being defined as a lesbian but I really just want to get on with my life.’ But I just...felt so jealous!!! To have your preferences and identity constantly validated like that, to be treated as real and normal and as having a community and as able to trust your own judgement and identify yourself... I want that so, so much!! But as I said - that’s no more valid than her feelings.

So... yeah. There’s just a fundamental breakdown in communication here. Because whenever people talk about how if you used these words with these historical people, they wouldn’t understand? All I can think of is my ‘aha!’ moments. To be honest... I genuinely can’t imagine telling someone like, say, John Laurens about the word ‘gay’ and them responding in any way other than... ‘that’s a thing you can actually be? that people are? that MANY people are? and it’s not a bad thing - it’s okay? that’s... amazing!!’ Which I knooooow is just my modern ideas and all but just... it’s a possibility???

idk anyway using ‘’modern sexuality words’’ (i.e. sexuality words favoured and in many cases created by the people who use them, rather than applied medically/legally or used as insults or w/e) is really really important for me towards actually acknowledging the existence of non-straightness, and the idea of not using them just inherently feels like succombing to subconscious heteronormativity. Using them feels like ‘hey we are the actual people described by these words and here is how we define our lives and selves, just as real as straightness, and we’re gonna state them outright so there’s no confusion and you can’t forget it’. It acknowledges the work that self-identifying queer people have done to come together and discuss their experiences and define themselves and promote that definition, challenging not only others’ heterosexim but their own at every step.

(Plus as I’ve said before, I don’t see why we should be limited to straight, gay, bi, lesbian, asexual, aro etc. either. Use alterous and queerplatonic and abrosexual and whatever else, or make up new words for things that wouldn’t make sense today. I’d much much MUCH rather people at least use the words rather than just... not, out of some weird idea that’ll involve less unconscious hetero bias.)

[radreviews]

2017 SQUAD PICKS

Hello, it’s us. It’s been awhile, but we’re back with our favorite art, moments, and trends from 2017. I usually have a whole preamble to set the stage for our picks, but let’s just get into it:

RADHIKA

In-Theater Experiences Every year I have a few movies that remind me how great the movie theater experience can be. A couple of years ago it was Magic Mike XXL; this year it was Get Out and Spider-Man Homecoming. I saw both films in packed houses, with the audience reacting to every line delivery, cameo and plot twist as it happened. It was exhilarating, and I can’t imagine seeing the films any other way. It reminded me that sometimes film needs to be a collective experience—that peer reactions can be the very thing that makes a good movie great. The same thing can be said of live theater, an inherently shared experience. Humblebrag time… we finally saw Hamilton this year and it exceeded the hype and expectations. I also listened to the soundtrack a million times and memorized all of the words after seeing it so, yep, I’m one of those people now. Also! We saw Mean Girls: The Musical in its previews in DC and holy wow you’re all in for a treat. Lady Bird Forget what I said about collective experiences because I saw this incredible film by myself, crying quietly through the entire third act. There are always films whose stories don’t necessarily overlap with my experiences, but make me feel everything (last year’s was La La Land). This film has universal love from every critic with a beating heart and it’s one thousand percent deserved. Lady Bird was my favorite film of the year — a beautiful portrait of the confusion of adolescence, of familial frustration and of love. It was note-perfect. Despacito CALL ME BASIC but I love this song. I will not apologize for how happy it makes me, for how secretly sexy the lyrics are, for how directly my mood is impacted by those opening chords. Also, I prefer the Justin Bieber version don’t @ me. “Remember Me” from Coco

Let’s not talk about how much I cried during Pixar’s Coco (but if you must know, it was A LOT), let’s talk about the five different versions of its original song “Remember Me” that appear on the official soundtrack. There’s the three versions directly from the film (each BEAUTIFULLY sung by Benjamin Bratt, Gael Garcia Bernal, and Anthony Gonzalez), a Spanish version, and inexplicably a version by Miguel?!!??!? It’s a classic case of I didn’t know I needed it until now, but thank you for this gift.  CTRL - SZA Everything is all caps, and wow, what a debut. “The Weekend” spoke quiet sadness about being the ‘other woman,’ “Supermodel” delved deep into being unloved and retaliating, and everything before and after touched on the intricacies of relationships and heartbreak. It was personal and it was stunning. “Lemons” - blackish Eleven days into the new year, we already had one of the best episodes of the year. In a pointed middle finger to Trump, blackish became a mouthpiece for what all of us were feeling two months after the election—anger, confusion, and helplessness—and instead of harping on the negatives, it made lemonade. Traveling I was 2 steps away from going full “wanderlust”-Instagram-caption mode this year. I’ve always wanted to travel, but 2017 was the first year where I threw caution (and money) to the wind, and just…booked stuff. I went to Cuba, Philly and Nashville for the first time, explored San Francisco and Boston again with friends, and flew back to Michigan, Chicago, and Cleveland for various engagements and weddings. If ever there was a year where a few days of distraction were not just welcomed but needed, it was 2017. There’s only more exploring to be done in 2018. Pod Save America I think it’s safe to say we all feel more politically angry and engaged in this era of backwards politics. Twice a week, I relied on the educated discussion, hilarious banter, and informed opinions of former Obama staffers Jon Lovett, Jon Favreau and Tommy Vietor to fill me in on what I should be angry about that day. It’s a podcast that just feels necessary. Also, I now own a ‘Friend of the Pod’ t-shirt and I feel like I’m part of a cult, but it’s the coolest cult ever. Bojack Horseman

It’s common knowledge that I love art that makes me cry, but I never thought I’d cry while watching a cartoon. This show is equal parts acerbic, hilarious, and downright depressing (read: I love this show so much). Harping on the fragility of time, the fourth season of Bojack Horseman continued its upward trajectory and gave me one of my favorite quotes from and about television, probably ever. Bojack is one of the smartest, most thoughtful and well-written shows on this incredibly vast television landscape. We are so lucky to have it. The Emergence of Timothée Chalamet Relatively unheard of before 2017, Chalamet starred in two of the best films I saw this year — Lady Bird and Call Me By Your Name. Chalamet inhabited two completely different, complicated characters but made them both vulnerable, empathetic, and mesmerizing. He’s a star and even if the Academy doesn’t recognize him this year (which would be objectively incorrect), I’ll watch anything he’s in from here on out.

PROMA Trailer Hype

I have never experienced a theater crowd cheering for a freaking trailer before – titters of excitement for Harry Potter, at best – but once the Black Panther full trailer dropped there was only one logical response. We cheered for it before  Spider-Man: Homecoming, before Marshall, before Thor: Ragnarok, and I hope to cheer for it again before February 2018, which is finally close. Seeing Things in Theaters Multiple Times Since moving to New York, I’ve never seen a movie twice in theaters - first because of cost and then because of time. Honestly I probably haven’t done it since high school, but I used to love it, and this year I finally returned to that with The Big Sick and Spider-Man: Homecoming. Worth it. A First Time with an Oldie

I’ve loved Titanic since I first saw it in 2000, but of course I was too young to see it in theaters. It was re-released in 3D for a quick stretch in 2012, but I was in India at the time, so this year marked the first time I saw Titanic in theaters, that too in impressive 3D. I will never tire of watching old favorites in packed theaters full of people who love the film as much as I do and hum along with the music or clap for big moments. The Year TV Got Angry In a year when we were all perpetually existential or angry, it was cathartic to see TV mirror that state. I reveled in the female rage of The Handmaid’s Tale, the intersectional activism of Dear White People, She’s Gotta Have It, and the straight-up middle finger that was Difficult People. Having an AppleTV is almost as gratifying as screaming into the void! Facemasks A pack of facemasks literally arrived on my and Radhika’s doorstep at a point in 2016 when we didn’t realize we needed them. Since then, I’ve tried to always have some sheet masks around and let myself splurge on a charcoal mask that I’ve done almost every weekend without fail since September. Put on a mask, start an episode, remove  and rinse. Treat yo self. Mean Girls: The Musical Seconding Rads on this. I was lucky enough to catch Mean Girls in the workshop stage before it left New York for a summer hiatus and then previews – even in that early stage it was fantastic. It’s exciting to have been with a piece of art through all these iterations (not even including the movie and its decade of cult-status), and I can’t wait to see it blow up next year. Existential Twitter Twitter was always at its most funny and weird during ungodly night-time hours; The night is darkest before the dawn and now it’s like Night Twitter 24/7. From politics to entertainment, we are at least winning at hilarity on social media. But seriously, delete his account. The Return of MoviePass This squad has been preaching the gospel of MoviePass since like, 2014, and I’ll admit I faltered in the middle there when it hit $50/month (I took the 3/$30 plan instead). But now it’s $9.99/month and people have heard of it and don’t make that blank face when I talk about it and wow guys we are saving so much on movies I feel so alive!!! People still regularly ask me if it’s legit/worth it/a scam, but I am happy to answer them and spread this joy. The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel Listen, some shows are just pure joy and this is the second Amazon show to give me this jarringly unfamiliar sunny feeling in my heart when I watch (shootout to you, Mozart in the Jungle). This show is like eating ice cream covered in candy (but with some sweet wine) and the best part it gets me inspired to create. Oh, Hello Dittoing Rads again because our first theatre experience of the year was one of the best of my whole life. I laughed so fucking hard at Oh, Hello — I’ve never seen a piece of comedy so meticulously crafted, down to every word of every joke, and you could hear the payoff in the laughs, which hardly ever stopped.

ARJUN

“I’m not a body/the body is but a shell.” Like so many of us, I spent a scary amount of time this year being resentful and confused about a million different things happening in my hometown, state, and country – things outside of my own body, bigger than myself.  It is then maybe my (our?) subconscious trying to tell me something else in the shared themes of the music I was coming back to the most.  While I would say I was consumed by questions of the foundation our entire world rests on, my iTunes would counter that my existential questions this year were actually pointed inward, contemplating over what constitutes a relationship in 2017. “Is it warm enough for you inside me?” With the full acknowledgement that there was a LOT of great music from other artists, when I look back on what set music in 2017 apart from other years, I think I’ll most remember albums like SZA’s ctrl, Moses Sumney’s Aromanticism, and Charli XCX’s Pop 2.  These three have some pretty big differences (namely, how they literally sound), but I would argue that they are all contributors to the same internal dialogue that a single 20-something year old living in New York was having, if not always aware he was having it.  They ask questions about all forms of love and affection, including (but not limited to): What does it mean to love? What does that even look like in 2017? Is it co-dependent? Is it more than an initial attraction? Does it give us our worth? Is it harmful to tie our worth to it? How stupid are we for putting ourselves through it? If the stupidity makes us happy, is it actually stupid? How do we handle heartbreak? Do we take on an arrogant braggadocio? Do we show the utter lack of confidence hiding under that? And hey, what role does sex play in all this? “I’m not tryina go to bed with you/I just wanna make out in your car.” Admittedly, some of these aren’t the most original questions of all time.  It’s the way these artists answered (or tried to answer) them that felt special to this point in time.  When SZA says, “Lately you’ve been feeling so good/I forget my future/never pull out,” there isn’t even a question if they’re having sex, and no narrative build-up of her career; they are conditional to even be at the point in time being confronted.  For the narrator, the to-pull-out-or-not debate is less a sign of carelessness and more one of carnal satisfaction (though she points out it's pretty careless too).  In a borderline companion piece, Charli XCX adds on, “I just wanna spend the night/Fucking in your bed tonight/Watch a little TV/I love it when you need me.”  Sex and what comes after are given equal weight in all of the toiling, tossing, and turning. “Ooh no she didn’t/Ooh yes, I did.”

No doubt, these songs have selfishness and over-dramatization at work.  But elsewhere, there’s a clearly embedded sense of self-awareness, too.  On “Indulge Me,” Moses Sumney’s verse starts and ends with a bit of a call and response when he sings, “All of my old lovers have found others…All of my old others have found lovers.”  There’s meant to be some sadness here, but the wordplay suggests a certain irony; he’s far from shocked.  Similarly, on “Out of My Head,” Charli XCX, Tove Lo, and ALMA begin singing, “You got me doing all this stupid shit/you fuck me up like this,” before finishing with, “Secretly I’m kinda into it, though.”  It’s as if the narrator is fully aware that she’s enveloping you in her own problems and she’s totally cool with that – she’s even giving you a wink while doing it.  The listener is simultaneously watching a card trick and listening to the magician explain exactly what he/she is doing each step of the way. “I blame it on your love/every time I fuck it up.” All of that is to say nothing of the music.  Throughout, we are sent on a journey of eclectic sounds & compositions, ranging from no-fucks-given aggression to dancefloor escapism to soothing near-lullabies.  The fully-formed picture is ultimately what made these works feel alive in the present.  They’re messy, they’re self-important, they’re dramatic, they’re self-deprecating.  They’re 2017.

ADITYA

Master of None, season 2 It’s exciting to watch talented people swing for the fences. Master of None, Aziz’s love letter to New York, millennial aimlessness, Italian cinema, food, and about 45 other things, is a start-to-finish shot at greatness. It’s filled with terrific performances, and breathtaking shots. It also radiates intelligence in its observations; Dev might be aimless but Aziz has a point of view.

In a toxic 2017, the show’s generous nature stands out. In ‘New York, I Love You,’ Dev is completely absent; the exhilarating episode instead elevates viewpoints that are often reduce to stock clichés – the doorman, the driver, etc. In ‘Thanksgiving,’ Dev plays a clear supporting role as Lena Waithe’s Denise accepts her sexuality and hopes for her family to do the same. In episode after episode, Master of None pursues interesting stories, whether they’re with Dev or Arnold or Denise or Francesca or a taxi driver. The show insists that it’s worth caring about other people, and the spirit of empathy and curiosity is refreshing.  The show is unabashedly cinematic in its aesthetic. The first episode is a surprisingly detailed (if low stakes) homage to Bicycle Thieves, presented in black & white with dialogue entirely in Italian. Later references include L’Avventura and La Dolce Vita. Despite these influences, Master of None makes excellent use of the episodic nature of TV, with installments devoted to big issues, like the theme episodes of old. ‘First Date’ uses an inventive structure to highlight the bleak fun of app-driven dating. ‘Religion’ tackles..religion. ‘Door #3′ is a portrait of career indecision. Sprinkled throughout are observations of fame and celebrity, and Aziz’s (and Dev’s) status as a minority provides a unique observational lens. Let me point out that the season is also fun. It doesn’t matter how many hours of Fellini Aziz has watched; the moment he sings about eating food, it’s clear that Tom Haverford is irrepressible. The show is consistently funny, both sharp and silly (I’ll laugh at any framing of the tiny Dev next to his immense buddy Arnold). Dev’s relationship with Francesca is, for me, the best rom-com of the past few years. It’s bracing to watch funny, charming people fall in love, and there’s a thrilling prolonged scene in ‘Dinner Party’ - where Dev is sitting in an Uber processing the fact that he is desperately in love – that ranks among the best of the year.  Mask Off + I’m the One + Red Bone I’ve been told that I’m bad at “good” music. Because of the pretentious circles within which I reside, I’m often faking musical expertise. ‘You know who’s great?’  I’ll say. ‘Ess Zee Ayy. Yeah, no, SZA, that’s what I meant. They’re good.’ But when no one was looking over my shoulder, it was these three songs all day all year. That’s a liability! Get Out & Lady Bird Two brilliant debuts. Get Out is a biting satire/comedy/polemic built on a horror movie chassis. From the creepiness of the “No, no, no, no…” scene to the “haha…wait a minute” guilty recognition of the liberal family to the shoulder-slumping devastation of the keys scene, the film takes no false steps. Lady Bird is great all the way through, led by Saoirse’s fiery performance and a sparkling, hilarious script. Greta Gerwig’s love and understanding for the characters on screen shines through.  NYT’s “Trump’s Daily Life” Pieces The NYTimes has grown essential in the Trump era. Sure, sometimes they Disney-ify Nazis, or allow David Brooks to moan about the difficulties of getting a sandwich with a poor person. But have you seen the WSJ editorials, or the ever-multiplying panels of “experts” on CNN? I’ll take the Gray Lady. While there’s plenty to appreciate, I want to call out the Sunday night articles, usually by Maggie Haberman and 300 unnamed sources, that offer hilarious insight into Trump’s daily life. I can’t get enough of these. 8-12 Diet Cokes? 14 hours of TV? Tries to impress John Kelly by doing a push-up? Sexts himself from Melania’s phone? Tell me more. We laugh so as not to cry.  I Am Not Your Negro

The startlingly powerful documentary relies exclusively on Baldwin’s own words, culled from various letters and writings, and read by Samuel L. Jackson. Even if you’ve read Baldwin, to sit in the theater and drown in his unparalleled eloquence is a shattering experience. The director, Raoul Peck, works with Baldwin to underline the film’s relevance to present day. Images of police brutality in the 1960s fade into images from Ferguson; Baldwin’s words close the gap in time. Another standout section involving a clip of Baldwin explaining his “fixation” on racial issues onThe Dick Cavett Show- a Tonight Show forerunner - is a sharp rebuke to the anti-intellectualism that is currently pervasive.  I was hanging on to Baldwin’s words, amazed at their relevance in the world I would walk into when the credits rolled. I can’t recommend this highly enough.  Revisiting the Godfather A back-to-back screening of The Godfather Parts I & II was a lovely experience. I was particularly moved by the father and son seated behind me. Most of us learn to appreciate the Corleones through our fathers, forcing ourselves to stay awake the first time we watch it because our infallible dads insisted it was brilliant. The pair behind me was all too familiar. The father patiently entertained his son’s incessant questioning (who’s that again? Wait, why did they kill Luca? Can we get more popcorn?), leapt to cover his son’s eyes during the topless scene, and nudged his son excitedly during the Baptism. The kid is now mixed-up in the family business for life. Twitter I love Twitter. I love retweeting things I agree with and I also love retweeting things I disagree with with a “get a load of this guy”-type comment. I love jumping into the fray and tweeting something like “call your senator!” and then patting myself on the back. I love seeing what other people I follow like, and seeing that they like things that are very similar to what I like, further affirming the idea that everyone is on my side. I love political twitter. I love sports twitter. I love movie twitter. I love reading the first sentence of an article and immediately knowing that I want to tweet it out. I love twitter. Protests For when Twitter isn’t enough. I was dreading Trump’s inauguration day, fully anticipating tears when the Obamas finally helicoptered away to a much deserved peace. When the moment came, and Trump was sworn in, it was…bearable. I knew that in less than 24 hours, I would get to witness thousands of women marching in defiant response. The Women’s March had an incredible energy that I assumed was rare. But it was replicated repeatedly - at the airports after the attempted Muslim ban, outside the courthouse where the ACLU challenged the administration, throughout the city after the DACA decision, etc., etc.  I’m a longtime petition signer, but I’m a novice protestor. I’m not great at chanting and I’m bad at estimating how big to make letters. A lot of my signs looked like I’M WITH her. But with the Trump administration determined to reduce the idea of America, protests were catharsis. They were a messy, vital declaration to the administration that they would be met with a response. They’ve recharged and inspired and reassured, and they’re what I’ll remember most about 2017.