#apparently he's all fired up about climate change

[atenderofsycamoretrees]

Balmain Spring 2023 Ready-to-Wear

Photos by Daniele Oberrauch / Gorunway.com

[autumnmobile12]

Storm Hawks: A Pretty Fun Take on Feminism

I don't know how many people actually remember this show, or even watched it , but this is an episode that's stuck with me all these years so I want to talk about it.

For context, the plot of Storm Hawks itself is pretty basic: Evil empire taking over the world, the good guys try to stop them, shenanigans ensue because kids' show. The main cast members fall into pretty generic archetypes. too. We have:

Aerrow (the 'true blue' leader)

Piper (the smart one/the girl)

Finn (the funny one)

Junko (the buddy)

Stork (the neurotic one)

Radarr (the animal sidekick)

And we're off:

This is Storm Hawks Season 1, Episode Ten: Fire and Ice

There was a lot going on in this episode, including a climate change allegory, but for the purposes of attempting to remain somewhat concise, I'm only going to cover the feminism theme for this post. Episode ten revolves mostly around Piper, opening with the team attending a festival put on by the Blizarrians, a race of snow-dwelling, humanoid, rabbit-dog creatures with Canadian accents and stereotypes in their world. (Which might be offensive, but the show was produced by a Canadian studio, so they can make fun of themselves if they want.)

The Blizzarian team (aptly named the Absolute Zeroes) invite the Storm Hawks to come snowmobiling with them in the backcountry. Piper is enthusiastic about the invitation, being a skilled cartographer, so she wants to map out the terrain...only to be told, "Ladies don't do the backcountry training. You just stay back with the girls."

Aerrow, being a true friend, tells Piper not to listen and she can ride with him, but since she's apparently not welcome by their hosts, Piper doesn't feel inclined to go anymore.

However, when Piper goes to meet up with 'the girls' and hang out, Suzy Lu (pictured above) unexpectedly introduces herself as the Absolute Zeroes' Sky Knight (essentially their captain.) So she's the one in charge, not the men, leaving Piper with the impression, Okay maybe being left out won't be so bad after all.

Later on in the episode, Aerrow does call out the male Zeroes, telling them she is part of their team and she has every right to be there with them. However, the Zeroes meet his words with genuine confusion, with the original member who told Piper to stay behind saying, "But Sky Knights don't do the backcountry training. That's just for us squaddies."

He thought Piper was the leader and therefore didn't need to be there. Similarly, because he was the male, Aerrow thought he was the Zeroes' leader, not Suzy Lu. It's still a sexist assumption to think Piper was in charge because she was a woman, but it's definitely a fresher take than the typical, "No, woman stay home because woman weak."

Going further into the comedy of the situation, though, is the fact the 'training' the Zeroes do in the backcountry pretty much amounts to them messing around on the snowmobiles and pulling off crazy stunts. They're just 'boys being boys.' If somebody wipes out on their ride, everyone else will be concerned up until the moment the fallen team member stands back up and starts cheering to show he's okay. It gives off a vibe that's similar to parents sending their kids outside to play when they're too hyper.

Further proving the point they are a bunch of well-intentioned dorks, it's also shown that Blizzarians don't assume all women are in charge. When Aerrow suggests a solution to the aforementioned climate issue that was also going on in the episode, Suzy Lu declares, "I like your thinking." And then, as an aside to Piper, whispers, "I was wondering why this one was in charge." So upon meeting the group, she definitely had a moment of, Okay, this Aerrow guy is the leader, not Piper. Kinda odd, but humans are weird. Whattya gonna do?

...

Overall, the storytelling of Storm Hawks was a bit shallow, which doesn't often appeal to most adults, and that likely was a contributor as to why it didn't receive much attention outside its target audience. The world itself, Atmos, was an interesting concept; a world interspersed with mountain nations (terras) that rose up out of a hostile wasteland, so travel is achieved primarily by flight. This theme is seen throughout the series in the very culture as many of the characters are named after birds. (Junko (junco,) Stork, Piper (sandpiper,) Starling, Dove, Snipe, Wren, Finn (finch.) In addition to the flight, their machines were powered by these crystals that varied in type, purpose, categorization of how common or rare they were, so there was a scientific/magic element to it.

The writing was episodic in format, though, so the characters don't really have longterm goals and never really had development arcs that spanned much longer than a single episode. The conflict itself was effectively a world war, but unlike a series such as Avatar: The Last Airbender, Storm Hawks never achieved the level of seriousness or emotion that a war story demands to be compelling or really respectful of that particular theme in fiction. The characters of Storm Hawks and ATLA are fun and light-hearted, but the Storm Hawks episodes were really more goofy and child-like adventures. I mean, there is an episode where it is heavily implied the reptilian humanoids are carnivorous and eat people. Okay, fuck, that's hardcore disturbing, but the show doesn't really expand on that because it's a kids' show. Nonetheless, since it's there, you're kinda left with, Okay, either follow through with your darker themes or don't mention them at all. It's a cartoon, find a better balance than that.

There also wasn't much depth to the villains either and their motivations were really just chalked up to the standard, "We're evil." One of them was even former 'good guy' turned traitor ten years prior to the main plot, but his reasons for turning traitor were never explored or even revealed. Come on, people, what happened? Ambition? Greed? He saw the political structure of the side he fought for was fundamentally flawed and decided it was best to tear it all down?

...

However, the detail that I appreciate with this nostalgia series is the fact that there were female characters in positions of power in Storm Hawks. Most of the fighting battalions were mostly made up of men, sure, and I would have liked to see a more balanced male-female cast, but some of the teams were straight up led by a woman and there was at least one group that was exclusively women.

The main antagonist, the reigning monarch of the aggressive nation in the war, was also a woman. (Well, teenage girl, but you get the point.) What's more; she was 100% in charge. She was not influenced in any way by a male advisor, she wasn't spurred on by the memory of a male predecessor, she was never intimidated by her male generals. And she was intelligent. Throughout the series, she was a scientist, an engineer, and a fighter. (Unfortunately, in the last season, her mind started to go a bit, so she pretty much devolved into a knockoff Azula.) We even have the brief insight of her background where it's shown she inherited her throne from her grandmother, not another male ruler. Which either implies primogeniture inheritance regardless of gender or it's a matrilineal monarchy, which is interesting to speculate, but that would be headcanon territory.

...

It was a fun watch when I was a kid, but as an adult...yeah, lots of flaws, a great deal of loss in potential with world-building and storylines, and even as a kid, I knew the plots and humor of later episodes fell into a category that was more stupid than funny.

But if Storm Hawks had one strength, they had the groundwork of the feminism angle down pat and that is always appreciated.

[thoughtlessarse]

Canada’s “record-shattering” wildfires last year produced nearly as much greenhouse gas emissions in one season as would be expected over a decade of fires in normal circumstances, data has shown. The fires, in Canada’s “wildest season ever”, were made at least three times more likely by the climate crisis, and produced about 2bn tonnes of CO2, about a quarter of the total global emissions from wildfires last year, according to data in the State of Wildfires report, published on Wednesday. The health impacts from last year’s fires will also continue to be felt for decades. Carbon dioxide from wildfires is a growing source of greenhouse gas emissions globally, reaching about 8.6bn tonnes last year, considerably more than the 4.8bn annual emissions of the US from all sources. However, the net impact of fires is likely to be reduced by the regrowth of vegetation taking up carbon from the atmosphere. Matthew Jones, a research fellow at the Tyndall Centre for Climate Change Research at the University of East Anglia, and lead author of the report, warned that damage from intensifying wildfires would continue to increase unless the world succeeded in bringing down greenhouse gas emissions. Wildfires not only kill people, wildlife and livestock, and devastate trees and other landscapes, but can cause widespread and dangerous air pollution. They are also an increasingly important contributor to the climate crisis, through their greenhouse gas emissions and destruction of carbon stored in vegetation and soil. “These fires are something we should all be concerned about,” he said. “The full effects of last year’s fires will not be seen for a long time.”

continue reading

They keep saying “under normal circumstances.” Apparently they don't understand that those “normal circumstances” are long gone. Wildfires are the new normal now.

And this is happening around the globe.

[savebatsartedition]

Whumptober 2024 Day 28!!

Summary:

Hareta lays in a hollow with a bunch of Aipom and thinks about winter. Prompt: DENIAL | Exposure

Notes:

Platinum and Moon (Pokespe) cameo, hurrah!! Guys I'm in love with this stupid guy and his character traits I HAVE to write a video essay about him you don't understand. Imagine how much you THINk I love him and then multiply it but like at l e a s t thirty percent. Content Warnings: Denial, cold weather, child neglect (by a famous person), rationalizing Words: 1,618

(Fic also under the cut.)

Hareta curled as tight as he could into the decomposing leaves and tufts of Aipom fur as the horde cuddled together for another hard night of sleep. They usually took him in on these nights, these nights that were sure to promise a day too cold for swimming or fishing for the next week, and he was grateful. For all of their physical and mental differences, the Aipom horde understood him, and he understood them right back. It made sense that they would want the extra warmth, and even more that he (who had not hatched with a cute coat of purple and yellow fur as they had) wanted theirs.

Sinnoh was cold a lot of the time, even in the summer the nights cold get to a pretty strong bite if the stars had a breeze to dance with, but it got a lot worse as the days moved into fall and then into winter. He'd heard, in various short trips to visit his wonderful grandfather back at his weird smelling lab, that there were a lot of places in the world where the snow came late, and even places where it didn't come at all. The idea was weird for him, foreign even, and he wasn't ever quite sure what to make of it, especially when the snow started to fall and suddenly it wasn't so comfortable to be hiding even among a pile of shivering Aipoms. Oh what he would have given to have befriended some kind of wild Chimchar. (Though he doubted the purple monkey species would very well appreciated the introduction to their horde. He trusted that he could help them out if he ever met one.)

Gramps had explained to him, the one time he'd asked, why there were so few fire times in Sinnoh. Apparently it had to do with the climate of the winters and their diet, something about the air and altitude in high mountains and the precipitation of high latitudes being detrimental to their general health. Hareta had laughed and said that he could do it, so something that was literally as hot to the touch as a warmed fire poker shouldn't have that much of a problem. He'd said it like he didn't really mind the winters, he knew that Gramps' work was too important to take him inside for the snowfall, but the professor had looked uncomfortable then, quickly changing the topic while the visiting researcher family had looked on in concern. (Berlitz? Beans? Something like that. He'd never been so good with names.)

It's okay. Gramps really cared about him. The Beans family just didn't understand it. He was a kid! He should be outside, playing freely, befriending wild pokemon, catching his own fish and berries, clearing his own nest, and all of the other things he got up to in the warm seasons. Their daughters, with their stacks and stacks of books and notes, were the odd ones out here.

Yesch! Imagine studying up to be a doctor or a professor! Gramps was here for a reason, so kids didn't have to do that kind of thing! Hareta really didn't understand them. Lady and Night or something. He didn't quite remember.

Another bite of wind hissed through the small hollow that he and the Aipoms had made into their burrow, Hareta shivered and buried his nose into his dirty hands. (Apparently Aipoms didn't burrow in most other regions where they were commonly found, but in Sinnoh they loved to use their cool tails not only for climbing and playing, but for survival as well.) He guessed those strange girls were pretty comfortable that night, tucked into that mythical thing called a “blanket,” with one or two of those “pillow” objects. But, as far as he was aware, those scary school places didn't let you make as many friends as he did, and their days would be split between learning and surviving the lessons. His were split between adventures with friends and fun in the freezing weather.

So, overall, his lifestyle was much more advantageous for someone who cared so much about having fun.

And that wasn't to say he wasn't curious about the idea of school! No, he was sure that there were parts of it that he would like very much. The friendships, the new things to learn about and laugh about, the new sights and places. (Because, let's be honest, after ten or so summers and nine winters in the woods, he was starting to realize there were only so many places he could go without getting too far away to come back safe and clean.)

He liked it in the forest. He liked the freedom (which was one part that he was SURE wasn't there in school), he liked the fun, he liked the adventures, he liked the slow days and the summer nights and the chill of early autumn where he could still pretend that it was just a few days break from summer heat rather than a horrible reminder of the months to come. He liked it, loved it even.

But still...

The forest was cold, and he was hungry. (There hadn't been any days recently where the lakes had been warm enough to even break into for fish, let alone swim through.) He had his friends, but it was still scary. And, well, he didn't want to hurt their feelings, but it was a little difficult for him to have a meaningful conversation with a bunch of little guys who barely had vocal cords to stand for themselves. He loved them, and he heard them, but sometimes they didn't quite hear him back. They were Pokemon, animals, so he understood it (he often told his Grandpa that he was more Pokemon than human), but it could get a bit lonely.

Maybe he would have been happier if he could have just spent a FEW days with Gramps. He'd done it before, when he'd gotten really sick after falling into a lake, and he'd wondered and dreamed of the warmth of that strange “heater,“ thing practically every winter night since that day. But he didn't want to ask Gramps, because he'd probably be worried. (Hareta didn't bother thinking about why the professor hadn't realized how cold it was in winter if he always walked around in a floor-length coat. He probably just believed Hareta when he told him he was okay.)

And- what was he thinking?! Of course he was okay with it. He'd made it through nine winters with just him and his friends (with the exception of that short stint in the weird smelling lab), if he didn't like it, he would just say something. Even though he was bad at names, and didn't understand every word people threw at him, he could read and write pretty good, and he was even better at talking. Talking talking talking, Gramps always said it got a little tiring to be in a room too long with him.

He always laughed. They both did.

But Hareta always worried that the Aipoms and his other friends might agree with Gramps. He didn't want to do that to them.

It was cold.

At least the Aipom fur kept most of the snow and wind off of him. Even if the decomposing leaves were cold and slimy and stinky, they were home. At least they were home.

Still, he wondered what life would be like if they weren't. Would he be studying poisons and antidotes at some dark table, his feet warmed by a ”heater“ and his shoulders wrapped with a ”blanket?“ Would he be decked out in an expensive scarf (pink or red it didn't matter to him), coat and boots to match? Would he be locked up in that lab until it was time to turn in the newest study on Pokemon interactions with young children?

Would he even act like himself?

He hoped so. He liked himself, he couldn't imagine being anyone else. But that didn't mean that he couldn't imagine any other way that he could be quite himself. Yeah. Honestly? Honestly he couldn't.

His teeth were chattering really hard. Even the ones that were missing felt like they were chattering. He sighed out a cloud of warmish breath, trying to capture it with his face but failing as it disappeared in another howling breeze.

If he wasn't cold, he wouldn't have gotten used to playing with the Aipoms shoeless in the snow. If he wasn't hungry, he wouldn't have figured out how to eat bark like a Bidoof or those far away Dearling. If Gramps wasn't his grandfather, he wouldn't have learned about Dearlings in the first place. If he didn't take care of himself, he wouldn't do half the things he did. Clearly, if those Berlitz (he figured ”Beans“ was probably wrong) girls were any real clue, if he'd been growing up with a real guardian, he wouldn't get to do the stuff he loved to. Swimming under the ice to retrieve a dropped toy of a baby Onix, jumping from tree to tree in a mad dash to win a race against an entire horde of friends, trying various berries just so a Turtwig wouldn't have to do it itself. Stuff that such a rich, smart, sophisticated, loving family wouldn't ever understand or allow.

Of course, despite that, Gramps was all of that. Even that last bit, yeah. Especially loving, actually. He was loving because Hareta said he was, and Hareta was the one with a voice in that hollow in the ground.

And it was okay, anyway. It hadn't even really started snowing yet. He was just being dramatic. He just didn’t like the cold.

[uhaveeverything]

On Aaron Bushnell

Somewhere around the time covid hit, I was cast in a play that never quite came to fruition. My character was a tribute to David Buckel, a conservationist and lawyer for Lamda Legal who self-immolated in Brooklyn's Prospect Park to protest the inaction of world leaders on climate change. As a piece of character work, I put together a presentation for my fellow castmates based around the following zen koan:

"Put out the fire across the river."

A koan is a meditative tool, an idea meant to be held in the mind and contemplated. This koan, to me, is both a directive - "put out the fire" - and a statement that places the hearer in relationship to the fire - "across the river." It could be easy to see this (or any koan) as some mystical bullshit riddle without a particular meaning, but I see something very practical in it.

You can't put out a fire from across a river.

You can't always solve a problem from where you are.

David Buckel was someone who spent years in the business of finding solutions. He embraced uphill legal battles for LGBTQ Americans and their families, he worked with conservation groups to promote composting. He believed in compassionate systems. There was no unusual behavior leading up to his death, but it's not hard to imagine what was going on in his mind: the effects of climate change are rising, administrations aren't doing enough, and the actions of an individual won't save the world.

Easy to see how he lost hope. To picture him looking across the river and knowing that by the time he gets there it'll be burning out of control.

I know a lot less about Aaron Bushnell, but I can imagine that someone who would join the military is someone who is driven to sprint toward the fire, to jump into the river, perhaps thinking that they'll be able to manage the fire or hold it back. I can imagine that same person arriving on the other shore and facing the inferno, seeing what has already been destroyed, coming to grips with the reality of how the fire is being stoked.

Apparently since yesterday there's been a lot of talk about mental health in regards to Aaron. As much as I believe in therapy and mental health improvement, I can't help hearing "he should have gotten help" in this case as "he should have had someone convince him things aren't so bad."

I'm not saying I want to see more people follow his example. Only that there is nothing irrational about feeling despair when one recognizes the scope of violence and destruction happening in front of your eyes, and how it continues by the hands of people in power.

I wish I could say Rest in Peace. But I feel that Aaron, and David, and all who have chosen this act, will continue to burn until the injustice they died for is resolved.

Put out the fire across the river.

[pbandjesse]

I was supposed to be at an event right now but I'm actually just home. Because the event postponed/canceled a while ago but no one told us. Oops. Ah well.

I was home all morning preparing to work a long night. I had wanted to sleep in but I was woken up by someone honking outside of our window at 730. Annoying. But it ended up being for the best because I texted James to check in about it they moved our car. They had forgotten so I quickly threw on some pants and went to mode it across the street. I had to try three spots before I found one I could fit in.

But then I couldn't fall back asleep. So I just laid in bed for another hour. I wasn't feeling incredible this morning. I didn't throw up last night but I absolutely could have. And so this morning I just felt a little unwell.

I got cleaned up and wore comfy clothes. I would change into event clothes later. But my hair looked so good and I was feeling super cute. I was actually in a great mood.

I made the bed and went downstairs to eat the omelette James made me. They put the hashbrowns inside the omelette this time (per my request) and it was perfect. I wanted to sit in the sun so I went and sat on the floor in the studio. Sweetp came and tried to steal my food but mostly he just laid next to me. He's been so lovely lately. Even when he's bitey, he just wants to cuddle all the time and be super close and I love it.

After I finished breakfast I put the dishes away. And worked on my sewing machine for a little. I made three more bears. I started a 4th but my stomach hurts so I just went upstairs to chill.

I would get enough energy to finally go through my closet storage box and folded all of my clothes. That stupid box has been open for weeks because I just threw everything in there and it wouldn't close. I had enough energy that I actually just took everything out of the closet and sorted it into piles. Tops, bottoms, dresses/jumpsuits. Then went through each pile and chose what I thought I might reasonably wear in the bedroom two months. I for sure picked to much because I used all of our hangers. Which is not ideal. So I may have to go though it all again but it was nice to get eyes on everything and think about outfits for the next few weeks. It's hard because it should be cool more often but stupid climate change had made it entirely to warm. I just want it to be fall for real.

I listened to a podcast and actually got really emotional. It was about cross burning in America and at one point these lesbians were being threatened by white supremacists and the women learned to eat fire (like at the circus) to take back that power and it was just so powerful and I was just sobbing. Pregnancy hormones haven't gotten me a ton but the couple times I have cried it's been about gay people. No idea what that's about.

I would lay down and watched videos

Charged my phone. I wanted to sleep but it never happened. I tried to put on a video and just close my eyes for 20 minutes but it was a struggle.

I got up and got dressed. I wore purple eyeshadow and that was fun. I was listening to music and was feeling really great. I didn't want to rush out of the house. My plan was to get a hoagie before going to the museum at 2. And since it was barely 1230 I would sit on the ground in the studio and finished the faces of the 3 bears I made today and then stuffed all 11 I have made in the last two days so that I could see them closed tonight. I packed those in a tote to bring with me.

I also packed ice cream in a thermos. Which ended up being such a good move.

I left here at 1. And traffic to locust point was horrible. Apparently something happened in the tunnel and they had to close it to clean debris. So everyone was taking downtown around the harbor and that make it so it took a half hour to drive 2 miles. Terrible. I even had to see a cyber truck, as of the commute couldn't get any worse.

I got to Jimmy John's at 130. I enjoyed my sandwich. And got to the museum right before 2. Excellent.

I was happy to see James. They were giving their whole intro speech in Spanish to a group of guys and I loved seeing that. When they were done I gave James a big hug.

I would sit with them for a bit. Jesse wasn't in the building yet so I took a lap around the museum. Chatted with Stanley. And eventually Jesse came over and we chatted about the night and we would go over some keys and the checklist. We still are trying to figure out a specific keyring for events but it was good going through what we could.

I would go around the museum a bit more. Ended up talking to a women who the museum has been interviewing about working in media for their new industry professionals program at the museum. She asked if I could take some pictures of her with the harbor in the background and then I went with her to the front to get the sign for the museum in the frame. She was really nice and we had some laughs about how I was just learning what my keys did and was very excited I got the window door key right on the first try.

I was starting to feel weird that the caterers weren't here yet. I am used to them chomping at the bit at 245 but it was past 3 and still no catering.

We decided that since it was corporate and it didn't start until 6 maybe they would come at 4. 2 hours before an event is pretty normal.

I sat with James for a bit when a guy came in with a donation for the museum. But the new rules are that you have to have an appointment and there is paperwork and this was a very old man. And he said he was just going to scrap it anyway. So I said I'll take it and love it. Because it's a printing press! It is missing it's rollers but it's perfect for my needs. It's so cool! I'm thrilled.

Not long after that the museum closed. I had been sitting at the desk with James sewing my bears. When Jesse and Meril came over and Jesse let me know that he got the organizer on the phone and apparently they had told Kelly that they were postponing but that had not been communicated with the new team at all. Ugh. I just had to laugh though. I mostly was just excited I got to go home.

Meril was about to start giving a wedding walkthrough and I never get to go on those. So I ran after Meril to ask if I could tag along and she was like of course. The future groom and the bride's dad were there. Mom and bride would join later. I am actually really glad I went on the tour because I learned a few things I didn't know!

Once they got back to the desk to check the calendars I would head out. I said goodbye and wished them a good wedding. And went to the car. Carrying the printing press was a little tough but not horrible. It is just solid for sure.

My 2 mile commute was another half hour. With people driving horribly and trying to go around me but I was not letting it happen.

When I was stuck sitting still for a while I would eat my thermos ice cream. Which honestly made me feel a lot better about how annoying the traffic and people was. And I got home right before 5.

I was happy to see my James again even if it had barely been an hour. We chatted for a bit but they were about to jump on a call for their podcast. And I went upstairs to change back into comfy clothes and laid down.

Where I stayed. Watching videos and chilling. James would make me a little sandwich later. And once they were done podcasting they came and laid with me. I showed them TikToks I saved for them. And they used a head scratcher on me which was very nice but started tangling my hair. Oops.

I would take a very cold shower. So it was quick. But now I am comfy in bed again.

Tomorrow I am hoping to get all those bears done and maybe work on some knitting projects. And then tomorrow evening I'm going to have dinner with Jess before we go to a scary Halloween thing. I hope it's fun.

I hope you all have a good day tomorrow. I love you all. Goodnight!!

[shiroikabocha]

continued assorted thoughts:

- a better justification for bringing me on the expedition might be that I’ve just recently been through the boot-up process, so I’m uniquely suited among all New Jerusalem’s residents to solve puzzles—it’s fresh in my brain. Just say their preliminary scouting of the island returned photos that look a lot like the simulation puzzles, so they thought it would be useful to bring along the puzzle-baby

- Melville I want to be you when I grow up

- who decided I’m a he? Wasn’t me. Can I change that at Helga’s booth? It can’t be harder than downloading a new gender package, right? YoU wOuLdNt DoWnLoAd a gEnDeR

- this is all… very pretty… but my computer is apparently a bit of a potato 😢 alas I find my philosophical experience constrained by the limits of physical reality, if only there was a Principle that neatly expressed this conundrum

- you guys are setting up SUCH a stark dichotomy between “explore and move toward the future” versus “honor the past and maintain balance”— you realize you can do both, right? Those aren’t mutually-exclusive options? Robots can very easily explore the world while living in harmony with nature—all y’all bots need to read A Psalm for the Wild-Built and A Prayer for the Crown-Shy, stat. Mosscap for mayor of New Jerusalem.

- speaking of. You guys talk all the time about these vast, vague concepts, but what do they mean, practically speaking? “What’s the true nature of the human spirit, tradition or innovation?” Look buddy, it’s transient, shifting like water what are we talking about, picking a theme for next week’s gala or fixing the maintenance problems at the hydroelectric dam? Let’s be CONCRETE about this

- re: the problems with the power grid, how attached are we to New Jerusalem’s location? It seems like since we’re all synthetic, we benefit from fewer constraints than bio-humans re: comfortably habitable climates. We could move almost anywhere (as long as the cats like it). Wouldn’t the most long-term sustainable solution be to relocate somewhere that geothermal energy is a possibility?

- SPEAKING OF, I understand the constraints on game devs’ time, but it would have been great to see some non-human-shaped humans! If we’re building them all from scratch, why not have fun with it? The featherless biped physical model isn’t exactly the pinnacle of smart design. Surely, at least a few of New Jerusalem’s citizens would upgrade or modify their bodies, right? Gotta be some folks who would be happier being spider-shaped. I think it would add interesting texture to the bots’ decision to call themselves “human,” too—yes, we define ourselves explicitly as a continuation of the human species, even if many of us are also lawnmowers. My neighbor is a lawnmower and she designs fantastic crossword puzzles, lawnmowers are people too!

- hm, I’m not really sure how to put this… but this game feels… sort of like the opposite of what I took away from The Talos Principle? In the first game, you spend all your time in gorgeous puzzle-garden-ruins contemplating the Big Ideas about What It Means to Be Human, but ultimately, you have to reject the perfectly-designed puzzle-world and step outside into the gritty, imperfect reality of a world that wasn’t designed for you to solve. Real life is messy and complicated and often disappointing and not as cleanly satisfying as a world made of brightly-colored puzzles that were made especially for you, but that’s the point, isn’t it? The challenge is worth it because it’s real. This island full of puzzles… doesn’t feel real. It feels like a retreat, like somebody got disheartened by all the boring problems (we’re running low on insulation, the jazz quartet is getting noise complaints again, somebody set a fire in the park by mistake and now everyone is yelling) and instead, ran away to build a bunch of colorful puzzles that make you feel Special and Important for solving them. Bleh, I’m tired, I could probably phrase this better.

[rainbow-nerdss]

Finding You (Part 4)

Written for @augustwritingchallenge day 29: Dark Buddie, 2k Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 Read it on AO3

Buck's eyes caught on the photo frame, just as they had every time he walked into Eddie's house since the picture had been placed there, close to two years ago now.

It was them, arms around each other, though they'd been complete strangers the night before it was taken. Standing in front of a vintage fire engine — it felt something like fate, like a promise from the universe, bringing them back together.

Beside that picture were two more — one of Christopher and Shannon, and the other— the most recent addition — taken in the photo booth at May's graduation party a week before, Chris standing between Eddie and Buck, all three of them grinning at the camera.

"Eddie?" Buck called. "Good to go?"

"Almost!" Eddie's voice came from down the hall. He emerged from Chris's room holding a Lego set. "He forgot to bring it with him when Carla dropped him to school, apparently he needs it for show and tell. Do you mind making a stop?"

Buck laughed. "’Course not. We'd better get going, though, unless we want Bobby to write us up for being late.”

They’d been car-pooling, ever since Chris had done a project on climate change and insisted they start doing something to reduce their carbon footprint. He’d also been strictly monitoring their recycling habits, leaving sticky notes every time he found something in the wrong trash can.

Buck could never say no to that kid, and a little extra time with Eddie before and after work was always welcome.

They just about made it to work on time, slipping in the door just as Bobby was beginning his morning briefing.

It was a good day.

Until it wasn't.

A fire at a storage facility, which wouldn’t have been too bad, except it was on an auction day, and there were an unknown number of civilians inside the units.

Buck and Eddie walked through the hallways, knocking on each door they passed, making sure nobody was left behind.

They found one container with the door slightly ajar. No response, but Buck went in just to check, and Eddie followed him.

The door swung shut, slamming with a heavy thud.

They couldn't open it.

"Try the light?" Eddie suggested, but Buck couldn't find the switch.

Eddie radioed the team, letting them know what happened.

"Any sign of fire near you?" Bobby asked. "Any injuries?"

"Just to our pride," Buck answered. He heard Chimney laugh, meaning he'd taken the time to hit the button on his radio just so they would hear.

Rude.

"Alright, sit tight, guys. We'll get this fire under control, take care of our victims, then we'll come get you."

"Got it, Cap," they both confirmed.

Buck felt along the wall until he found a spot where he could sit.

"Guess we've got some time to kill," he grunted, shifting his weight slightly to get comfortable.

He heard Eddie moving around, then a clatter, swearing, and Eddie was tripping over Buck's legs and falling to the ground.

"Shit!" Buck reached out to help him up. "You okay?"

"All good," Eddie groaned. "Just a little bruised, I think."

"Maybe we should stay in one spot, while we're stuck here in the dark," Buck suggested, helping Eddie get situated sitting beside him.

"Probably for the best."

Their shoulders pressed together in the dark space, and Buck turned his head in Eddie's direction, even though he could barely see his outline.

"How long d'you think it'll take them?" Buck asked.

"No idea. It's not so bad here though."

"Are you kidding? It smells like something died."

Eddie laughed, Buck slowly joining him.

"You heard Maddie's news, right?" Buck asked after a few moments. Her and Chimney had just started telling people about their pregnancy, and Buck had been dying to talk to Eddie about it.

"You were there when I heard it, Buck," Eddie laughed. "Or should I be calling you Uncle Buck?"

Buck snorted. "You know, I had no idea what Chim was referencing when he said that at first? He had to sit me down and make me watch the movie so he could keep making jokes about it."

Eddie laughed again. "Why am I not surprised?" 

Buck nudged him.

"How are you feeling about it?" Eddie asked.

"Honestly? I can't wait. I'm gonna spoil the shit out of that kid."

"Really? I remember when Adriana had her first kid, I was… Well, excited isn’t the first word that comes to mind.”

Buck frowned. “How come?” 

He felt Eddie shrug beside him. “I just… I couldn’t picture myself as an uncle, you know? Then three years later, I was a dad, so.” Buck wanted to say something, but that was all so long ago, he didn’t know what he could say. He did the math in his head — it mustn’t have been long after Buck met them, he figured. He thought of the Eddie he had met back then, so young, so unsure of what he wanted. “I guess it’s different for you though,” Eddie continued. “You have more practice with kids than I did.”

“Thanks to you,” Buck said. They weren’t the first words that came to mind, though. No, the first thing Buck thought at Eddie’s words was I already feel like a dad. A frankly ridiculous thought to have about a kid he’d known for all of two years, not even a quarter of his life. 

Sure, he knew Chris cared about him, that he enjoyed their time together as much as Buck did. The three of them, Buck, Eddie and Chris, they just… fit together, in a way Buck had never allowed himself to think too closely on, for fear that it would all fall apart if he did. 

“You know,” Eddie’s voice broke through Buck’s thoughts. “When I told Chris the news, he was excited too. He said he couldn’t wait to have a new baby cousin.”

Buck turned red, suddenly grateful for the dark that surrounded them. “He did?” 

“Yeah.” 

“What did you say?” 

The pause before Eddie answered was a long one. “I didn’t correct him.” 

“Oh. Really?” The thought Buck had pushed aside before came back to the surface. If Chris thought of Maddie’s kid as his cousin, then it would suggest…

“Buck, I need to tell you something.”

Eddie’s voice was heavy with something Buck couldn’t recognise. It sounded serious, though. 

“You need to tell me something now? Here?” 

“I’ve chickened out too many times already, when there was somewhere else I could run, or when I could see your face.” 

“Okay. What is it? You’re making me nervous.”

Buck was ready for Eddie to say something which would hurt him. To say that he didn’t like how close Buck had gotten to Chris, how involved Buck was in their lives, that he was a burden on them in some way. Buck was the one who wanted to run now, to escape this conversation which neither of them would be able to move on from without something fundamentally shifting.

“I think I’ve been falling in love with you.”

It took Buck a full minute to process Eddie’s words. They couldn’t have meant what he thought they did, but he replayed them in his mind, and he couldn’t find another meaning beyond the obvious. 

Beyond Eddie loving him.

“Buck? Say something, I can’t see your face right now, and I need to know what—” 

Buck kissed him. Or, he tried to. In the dark, he sort of misjudged the distance between his face and Eddie’s, and the kiss landed what felt like somewhere between Eddie’s nose and his eye. 

He redirected, though, and this time he hit the mark.

He felt Eddie leaning into the kiss, lips soft against his own. “Eds, I started falling for you the day you sat next to me in a doorway in Boston, and I don’t think I ever stopped.” 

“Really?” Eddie whispered against his mouth, the sound sending a shiver down Buck’s spine.

“Really,” Buck assured him, preventing any further questions with another kiss.

Eddie’s gloved hand reached up to touch Buck’s face, and after a frustrated grunt it disappeared, replaced a moment later by Eddie’s warm hand. Buck pulled his own gloves off, pulling Eddie closer, sliding his hands under Eddie’s turnout coat, finding the warmth of his skin through his work t-shirt. 

Buck’s tongue darted out, and Eddie let him in with a soft noise. Buck moved, trying to get a better angle. This time, he was the one who fell, but Eddie didn’t help him up. He followed him down, until they were tangled together on the floor.

“Fuck, Eddie,” Buck sighed, feeling Eddie’s fingers slide through his hair. He lost himself in the kiss, the feeling of Eddie pressed up against him, lips pressed against lips, bodies flush from head to toe.

Buck didn’t know how long they stayed like that, but it was long enough for him to forget where they were and why, until he heard a crash from outside, followed by a stream of light pouring through the now-open door.

Eddie sat up, eyes wide in surprise, and Buck craned his neck to see the entire rest of the team standing in the doorway, staring at them.

“Why didn’t you guys radio to say you were there?” he asked. Eddie turned to look back at Buck, and it took everything in him not to pull him back down now he could see the kiss-swollen lips, glassy eyes and flushed cheeks, knowing he’d done that.

Chimney was grinning, gesturing to his radio. “You guys were kind of hogging the channel,” he said. 

Buck frowned and turned to look at his own radio. Sure enough, he was broadcasting. He must have hit the button when he fell back. His face heated up even more as he wondered how much they’d heard.

He pulled himself up to a seated position and switched the radio off, grumbling. 

“We thought you’d been injured at first, but… I guess not,” Bobby said. Buck fixed his gear, then helped Eddie to his feet. There was a moment, when their eyes met and Buck felt giddy, remembering those words. I think I’ve been falling in love with you.

Eddie smiled, almost shy, and Buck nodded, the smile on his face feeling like it might never leave. 

“We’d better go,” Hen said, interrupting their moment in a tone that Buck was sure meant they’d be discussing this later. 

The rest of their shift dragged. Teasing from the rest of the team, twenty minutes in Bobby’s office filling out HR forms, laying awake through the night in the bunk room because Eddie was right there in the next bunk over, just out of reach when Buck could be holding him close. 

He kept wishing for a call, just to stop him from saying screw it and doing something which would absolutely necessitate sitting through another round of HR bullshit.

Finally, their shift ended, and Buck followed Eddie to his truck, pressing him against the door and kissing him again. Eddie smiled against his mouth, then broke the kiss. 

“I gotta get home in time to bring Christopher to school. Meet me there?” Eddie asked. 

Buck nodded, kissing him once more, just because he could. He was barely inside his jeep before his phone was lighting up with a call from Maddie. He was surprised it had taken this long for Chimney to tell her, honestly, but maybe she had just been waiting for their shift to end so he couldn’t get away with inventing a call.

He turned towards Eddie’s, answering Maddie’s call on speaker and bracing himself for her to yell at him about being the last one to find out. 

He couldn’t even feel bad, not when he pulled into Eddie’s and let himself inside, not when he helped himself to a cup of coffee and waited for Eddie to get home from the school run, staring at the pictures of them on Eddie’s wall. He couldn’t feel bad, not when they’d greet each other at the door with a kiss when Eddie got home, then stumble back to Eddie’s room together, falling onto the bed to pick up where they’d left off in the storage facility, this time with light coming through the blinds so Buck could see every expression on Eddie’s face, every inch of his skin.

How could he be anything but the happiest he’d ever been?

[nokingsonlyfooles]

The Dark Secret of Zootopia? (Part 1, Identifying the Problem)

What? If you're a fan, you already know Zootopia's "secret."

It was originally a dark dystopia where the predators wore "tame collars," but the Zootopia team got nervous about how depressing it was and did a last-minute rewrite that used most of the old assets and plot points! Right? So are we gonna do a deep dive on that?

Not quite.

What if I told you that despite the rewrite that took out the obvious metaphor for systemic oppression, more evidence of systemic issues remains and... it probably doesn't make any difference?

So that half-assed poll I put up suggests more than one person would like to see me take Zootopia apart, and that probably means delving into the racism metaphor, but, man, I don't have the headspace for that today! So I took a spin through the Headscratchers page, hoping to find something a little more compact. There had to be something other than the racism metaphor that a lot of people had trouble with, right? Sort of an appetizer for a busy Tuesday?

Nnnot really.

Here's an obvious Libertarian voter who can't fathom that people would be racist when it runs contrary to good business practices! We go through quite a few tropers positing non-racist or less racist reasons to refuse Nick service - including one who believes prejudice against predators "wasn't a thing" until Judy's press conference, and before that people just didn't like foxes - before some hero arrives with a fire extinguisher and says, I'm paraphrasing, "Racism isn't rational! End of story!"

Then we got this question, which has the answer contained in it already!

I've trimmed the first response, from someone who apparently sees nothing wrong with just rolling up and asking to pet a sentient being. "It doesn't have to be a metaphor for anything"!? They go on to posit that maybe it's a taboo in funny animal society. 'Cos, you know, you don't have to read Zootopia as a metaphor for human society if you don't wanna.

(The Author! He's already dead! Why you gotta desecrate the corpse like that?)

It takes a few more self-soothing responses from evident people-petters before, again, someone rolls up and says, "It is exactly white people wanting to 'pet' black people's 'weird' hair, something that is unfortunately a fairly common patronizing occurrence in the U.S., at least."

And after that, we still get this:

"I have a Black friend and he lets me pet him all the time! Cut white people some slack! They're just curious! Let us pet you!"

Zootopia is racism lite, folks. Zootopia calls out racism primarily as something an individual does when they make decisions based on their preexisting biases - which, in Nick and Judy's cases, stem from childhood traumas that we get to see on-screen.

This is a version of racism that a child - with a little hand-holding from a caregiver - could understand. All but the most toxic conservatives ought to be okay explaining this kind of racism, including the toxic neoliberal centrists! "You see, little Kayden, there is no such thing as 'society.' 'Racism' is what happens when a lot of individuals make bad decisions. All you have to do to stop it is make better decisions, and encourage others to make better decisions too! Why, when I was your age, we chose better hairsprays without CFCs in them, and that fixed global warming and the hole in the ozone layer forever!"

"Auntie Margaret Thatcher, isn't climate change still a..."

"WE FIXED IT FOREVER, LITTLE KAYDEN." *strained smile* "So just don't buy fox spray! If enough people don't buy it, they'll stop making it."

"Why is it okay for someone to make a spray specifically to hurt foxes in the first place?"

"...If you don't stop asking questions, I shall bury you under the Aberfan coal tip with all the rest, little Kayden. Eat your popcorn."

But even that's too much for some folks! They retreat behind the ambiguity of the metaphor and wonder why the funny animals make such odd decisions, in the willful absence of context. With no context, why would a bunny be able to say, "It's okay if we call each other 'cute,' but you shouldn't." That's blatant hypocrisy. Bunnies don't own "cute." It's just a word!

Don't apologize, Benjamin! Why would you do that?

This entire movie is a modern Aesop fable and you need that human context. "Cute" privilege to "n-word" privilege is a one-to-one correlation, like petting a sheep is to petting a Black person. It only makes sense because you live in human society and you can fill in the blanks - because you have seen similar manifestations of bias and you already know they're not okay. You don't even have to know why or agree. To get the joke, you just have to know this stuff happens and people think it's rude. That is not a high bar to clear!

And that is, apparently, the level of anxiety we have about unpacking our own racism. Not even the systemic kind. Not even the big issues those scary "woke" zombies are trying to "cancel" you about. Just, "An individual - including you, for you are an individual - can make bad decisions based on their experiences."

Whaaaat? No I don't!

"These animals have nothing to do with me and therefore, this movie makes no sense."

These are the people Zootopia needed to reach. Not the ones who already had a clue, the ones who were so scared of getting one that they buried their heads in the sand and refused to acknowledge reality itself. So here's a cheerful little film with an animal metaphor and an optimistic resolution! Surely they must feel safe enough to unpack racism in this context?

But they didn't. Much like Green Book, this film was safe and simple enough to walk away with an Oscar from an Academy that's mostly white, male, and terrified of minorities - and the people who didn't want to get "woke" slept right through it. I don't think that's what they were going for, given that V 1 of this film had systemic oppression worn around the neck of every predator with a blinking light on it.

Remember, they reused assets and plot points from the original and rewrote everything fast. Traces remain. But if the ostriches in the audience can't understand "cute" privileges, do they have any hope of noticing Judy's bathroom at the police academy has a toilet that can kill her and no accommodations for a species her size?

Well, they might have. But the way the film handles it gleefully assassinates everyone's chance to see the systemic issues and respond to them appropriately.

Tune in next time, for Judy Hopps, bunny cops, "Black Excellence" and our old friend Barack!

[thewadapan]

Circling the drain in Twisters

In an interview with CNN, director Lee Isaac Chung is quoted as saying, "I wanted to make sure that we are never creating a feeling that we're preaching a message, because that's certainly not what I think cinema should be about. I think it should be a reflection of the world." If this is the case, then Lee Isaac Chung is clearly an idiot, because his studious commitment to avoiding anything that could be construed as an ideological statement has seen him create a world where tornadoes are wild beasts—something like a tiger, or a hippopotamus, maybe—which roam the American plains and will hunt you for sport, as opposed to a mindless confluence of meteorological factors. Says one of the characters: "We're having a once-in-a-generation tornado outbreak in Oklahoma. […] It's getting worse every year." An "outbreak", as if this is some freak disaster, a sudden pandemic of unclear origins, and not a predictable trend where each year is the worst year on record. Don't think of it as a microcosm for the meteorological hardships happening all over the world, year after year—think of it more like 30-50 feral hogs, a consistent but localised problem, the kind of thing you can solve by climbing into the back of your pickup truck with an AR-15.

Certainly, it can't have anything to do with climate change, two words which—despite scriptwriter Mark L. Smith's assurance that the film would "shine a light on […] the causes and effects of climate change"—go completely unmentioned in the entire 122 minute runtime of this dumpster fire.

Pass through the eye of the "Keep reading" button below to see the rest of my blustering.

I know that everyone is sick of ecological stories. I know that, if we're being bluntly honest, all the movies and books and comics and thinkpieces in the world don't mean a fucking thing to the blood-soaked oil industry or our ghoulish politicians. I can understand the instinct to flinch away from the aesop. But to put it as simply as I can: there is no way to neutrally talk about the weather. To even try is to fail, because you end up coming off like a climate denialist.

Oh yeah, this film is also dogshit on pretty much every other level you can conceive of. From the opening prologue, which introduces protagonist Kate's hi-and-die friends, the film is constantly two steps behind the audience, as it clumsily plays out the most paint-by-numbers plotting you can predict in your sleep. You know these people are going to die, you can divine the fucking order they'll be killed off in. And still, on a pure spectacle level, this prologue is about as exciting as the film will ever manage to be; every subsequent bit of tornado action is just a bloodless encore, devoid of stakes or novelty, just CGI nonsense completely divorced from any kind of spatial grounding (in one scene, an oil refinery sort of just appears from nowhere so that the tornado can blow it up).

The film's main conflict is between a team of meteorologists led by Kate's old friend Javi, and a crew of redneck storm-chasers led by a YouTuber "tornado wrangler", Tyler. While I wouldn't say that these groups are overtly representatives of "science" and "gut feeling" respectively—because again, Lee Isaac Chung is a spineless filmmaker who clearly wouldn't know substance if he ate a brownie laced with it—their differing approaches to storm-chasing are contrasted throughout the film. To begin with, we're led to trust Javi's team because of his existing rapport with Kate, their professionalism and preparation, their apparently noble goals, and their class status as white-collar engineer-types. Meanwhile, Tyler's gang are initially presented as stupid, reckless, dangerous, opportunistic, money-motivated, and backwards.

But then, aha, here comes the movie's one (1) twist! (And here I thought the whole titular basis of the movie was that there'd be multiple.) It turns out that actually the rednecks have only been selling all those T-shirts to charitably fund disaster relief, food for the victims of tornadoes. Actually, YouTuber Tyler is a really good storm chaser, and he's also quite caring, and also hot. Meanwhile, the scientists are actually in the pockets of land baron Marshall Rigg, who's profiteering from the tornados by buying victims' property from them for rock-bottom prices in the wake of devastation. For a moment, it actually seems as if Marshall Rigg is some kind of MCU supervillain with an evil master plan to create his own tornadoes and take over the entire USA—because that's the kind of level of reality this film is operating on. If this truly is a "reflection of the world", as Chung claims, then it's a funhouse mirror- no, a flimsy plastic compress, free with a girls' magazine, a paper sticker inside, printed with the face of a beautiful cowgirl.

This "what if the bad guys… were good!" twist isn't really a reveal, so much as it is the script turning these people into completely different characters. They start out as cardboard-cutout trailer-trash, hooting and grinning, and then they are substituted out for an entirely different set of cardboard cutouts, doe-eyed.

The character writing in this film is absolutely embarrassing. In one scene, Kate and Tyler end up at a motel when the tornado sirens start going off. The other people at the motel, ignoring this, continue complaining to the receptionist. "Nine times out of ten, it's a false alarm," one of them says. The power goes out, causing the siren to stop. "You hear that? No tornado." Another anonymous alien says to the receptionist, "Hey, I don't want to give you a bad review." Then a tornado rips the roof off the place. They run outside. The first person is yelling, "There's a tornado! There's a tornado!" Then gets sucked up and killed. Look, nevermind the mean-spiritedness of it, nevermind the misanthropy—what sane writer would ever think that real people would actually behave this way? The script is constantly tripping over itself to make sure you get the jokes; here, the joke is that the woman thought there wasn't a tornado, but then she realised that actually there was.

I recall another example from earlier in the film: when Kate and Tyler are still competing, two tornadoes appear, and the rival storm chasers wind up splitting up, each going after a different one. Just as it seems like Tyler is coming up into the eye of his storm—suddenly, the whole thing dissipates, as though it was never there. They get out of the vehicle, and he looks over the horizon, where Kate's tornado is still swirling. And Tyler's pal says, "We should've went with her." Buddy, I am watching the fucking screen! You can see it right on his face that he should've went with her, you don't need to have one of your characters blurt it aloud. Are you scared I've fallen asleep in the ten seconds since someone last spoke?

God, I haven't even talked about the romance yet! Throughout the movie, YouTuber Tyler keeps popping up around Kate, and you can tell the filmmakers really don't want you to think about the fact that this plotting contrivance basically just implies he's stalking her everywhere. Kate reveals herself to be a country girl at heart. Tyler reveals himself to know about science and stuff, through dialogue where he reels off complicated jargon which you figure probably isn't accurate, or if it is, is the kind of basic meteorology the scriptwriter could piece together by poking around on Wikipedia for a couple of hours. The film doesn't actually give a fuck about science, or the scientific method, or meteorology, because in this movie science is a glossy CGI simulation of a twister which our heroes plug numbers into until the whole thing flashes green or whatever. It's telling, I think, that the onscreen simulation and the CGI twisters themselves are no different from one another—it's all artifice, isn't it, intangible particle effects swirling around, signifying nothing.

People seem to be going mad over Glen Powell in this thing, but come on, are you really satisfied by this sexless nothingburger of a romance? They don't even fucking kiss, right? All blockbusters are like this. I'm starving. This film can't even be bothered to crystallise a proper love triangle between Javi, Kate, and Tyler, even though you can tell it's thinking about it. It's as if the film itself knows it wouldn't even be compelling if it tried. Considering the absolutely abominable emotional manipulation Javi uses to get Kate onboard with the project—which the film never seems to quite become cognizant of—it's for the best anyway. "Hey, remember how your boyfriend and your best friends all died right in front of you? Well if you don't come help me by putting yourself in that exact same situation again, loads more people are going to die like that too!" Unhinged. Put that man in the twister, and the filmmakers too.

So yeah, I think I hate this flick. It's a movie that exists to soothe the conscience of its audience: see, we don't really hate the South, it's not our fault the planet is trying to blast us off the face of it, we're all trying our best. Let's watch a rodeo or something. It's the kind of film that can lull you to sleep, like a final, fatal injection.

Rating: 2/10

If you’ve enjoyed this review, you can find dozens of similar essays over on my Letterboxd account.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Mike Luckovich

* * * *

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

August 31, 2023

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

The Biden administration emphasized today its whole-of-government response to addressing the damage caused by Hurricane Idalia—which hit Florida yesterday before moving north into Georgia, South Carolina, and North Carolina—and by the wildfires in Maui, Hawaii, which broke out on August 8. Idalia, which made landfall as a Category 3 hurricane, brought 125-mile-an-hour winds and intense flooding that have left at least three people dead. The Maui wildfires, at least one of which was apparently started by a downed electric line, have killed at least 115 people and destroyed more than 2,000 buildings.

Biden and Homeland Security secretary Alejandro Mayorkas visited the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA) headquarters in Washington, D.C., today, and Biden later spoke at the White House, explaining that he had spoken with the governors of all the states affected by the hurricane before the storm hit. He had approved Florida governor Ron DeSantis’s request for an early emergency declaration to free up federal funds to address the expected impacts of the storm, and federal officers surged personnel to Florida and other southeastern states to help people get to safety. 

Biden emphasized that the government was also focused on recovering and rebuilding efforts in Maui, promising to respect and honor Hawaiian traditions and the needs of the local community—a deep concern among those affected by the fires. “We’re not going to turn this into a new land grab,” he said. 

In addition to the $27 million dedicated to the removal of hazardous material and the $400 million dedicated to debris removal in Hawaii, Biden announced that the administration has dedicated $95 million of the funds from the Bipartisan Infrastructure Act to harden the electrical grid against climate change by burying cables or installing smart meters to pinpoint where lines are down.

“I don’t think anybody can deny the impact of the climate crisis anymore,” Biden said. “Just look around: historic floods—I mean historic floods; more intense droughts; extreme heat; significant wildfires have caused significant damage like we’ve never seen before. It’s not only throughout the Hawaiian Islands and the United States, but in Canada and other parts of the world.”

“When I took office,” he said, “I directed my team to raise our game in how we lead and coordinate our responses to natural disasters…to ensure we [meet] the people where they are when they need our help the most.” 

At FEMA headquarters, Biden profusely thanked the FEMA employees for their “incredible contribution” to the recovery efforts. He noted that the past few years have kept FEMA going from one emergency to the next, and he thanked them for their sacrifices and the risks emergency personnel take to help our communities when they need it. 

With extremist House Republicans threatening to defund the government unless their demands are met, Biden called on Congress to make sure it provides “the funds to be able to continue to show up and meet the needs of the American people to deal with immediate crises that we’re facing right now, as well as the long-term commitments that we have to make to finish the job in Maui and elsewhere.”

When a reporter asked if he could “assure Americans that the federal government is going to have the emergency funding that they need to get through this hurricane season,” Biden answered, “If I can’t do that, I’m going to point out why…. And so, I’m confident, even though there’s a lot of talk from some of our friends up on the Hill about the cost, we got to do it. This is the United States of America.”

The House Oversight and Accountability Committee, chaired by Republican James Comer of Kentucky, announced this week it will investigate the federal response to the Maui wildfires. Biden said yesterday he welcomes such an investigation, suggesting that House Republicans “should go out and talk to every elected official, from the mayors to the governors to the United States senators” who have praised the government’s response. 

Biden’s use of the government contrasts sharply with former president Trump’s promise to turn the government into an agent of retribution for those he perceives as his enemies. On Tuesday, right-wing radio host Glenn Beck asked him if he would use the presidency to imprison his political opponents if he were reelected. “You said in 2016, you know, ‘lock her up.’ And then when you became president, you said, ‘We don’t do that in America.’ That’s just not the right thing to do. That’s what they’re doing. Do you regret not locking her up? And if you’re president again, will you lock people up?” 

Trump replied: “[T]he answer is you have no choice because they’re doing it to us.”

Trump’s legal troubles have sparked an outpouring of violent talk from him, but it is simply an escalation of the theme he staked out at his first campaign rally in March 2023, held in Waco, Texas, a spot that is a rallying cry for those of his base who believe the government is oppressing them. There, Trump told his supporters: "I am your warrior, I am your justice…. For those who have been wronged and betrayed…I am your retribution."

Trump promises retribution and power for those MAGA Republicans determined to impose their will on the majority of Americans, like those cheering on Alabama attorney general Steve Marshall, who claimed in a court filing on Monday that Alabama, which has one of the strictest abortion bans in the country, can prosecute people who help women travel out of the state to obtain an abortion as part of a “criminal conspiracy.” 

Today’s Republicans have abandoned the Reagan-era Republican plan to gut the federal government and are instead determined to capture it, replacing nonpartisan civil servants with Republican extremists who will carry out the ideals of Trump or any candidate like him who can defeat Biden in 2024. Their nearly-1,000-page plan, called “Project 2025,” calls for politicizing the Department of Justice and law enforcement officers and giving far more power to the president.    

Today, Trump waived his right to appear at his arraignment in Fulton County on racketeering charges for his effort to overturn the results of the 2020 presidential election, and entered a plea of not guilty.

Also today, Supreme Court justices Samuel Alito and Clarence Thomas filed their annual financial disclosure report after receiving an extension from the May deadline. Thomas’s report included three gifts of transportation from megadonor Harlan Crow and two of meals and lodging from Crow when Thomas was his guest. Thomas defended his previous omission of such gifts by saying the omission was inadvertent, as he had used old guidelines that were changed only in March 2023 (in fact, ethics experts say he should have disclosed the previous gifts at the time).

Thomas also suggested he needed to travel on private planes because “the increased security risk following the Dobbs opinion leak” meant that his “security detail recommended noncommercial travel whenever possible.”

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

[silver-queen]

v off topic but what is up with project moon lately ive been vaguely aware of workplace stuff happened but dunno much

id ask u if ur ok w/ explaining it to me but if u cant dw bout it

hope u have a nice day btw

I don't mind but be aware I'm not fluent In korean nor abut the social climate there 😔 and thank you!

I'm gonna recall what I know so it's going to be long, but long story short, Kim Jihoon (Project Moon's CEO) fired the CG artist vellmori immediately after some guys from korea's equivalent of 4chan (DCInside) accused her of being a feminist.

This isn't the first time something like this happened in the korean gaming industry, but this particular event kind of uncovered a whole lot of issues in other things, from Project Moon's shortcomings to as far as the korean gaming industry itself.

I don't know where to start, but the whole thing happened because a beach mini-event featured one of the female character in a full wetsuit and not in a bikini, nevermind that Project Moon is known for rarely, if ever feature fanservice. A group of people from DCInside directed their outrage to the main art director and artist of said character's skin, but once they found out that the artist is a man, they pivoted to the CG artist, despite the fact she's not responsible any character design in the game.

DCInside started to give Limbus Company a negative review on all platforms it was on for it's "feminist agenda" demanding for vellmori to be fired, and when PM took too long with complying with their demand, ten people took it to themselves and stormed Project Moon's office. The situation seemed dire, we tried supporting Project Moon because we thought they weren't the type of company who would side with people like them.

PM responded by posting an announcement (only in korean at the time to try to keep the international fanbase in the dark) that vellmori was to be dismissed from her position for "causing controversy"

Said controversy is that DCinside dug a deleted post vellmori retweeted when she was a teen speaking out against a spycam epidemic in women's bathroom. That was five years ago and long deleted, but apparently it was still a valid reason to dismiss her from the company.

Vellmori mentioned in a korean newspaper that Kim Jihoon fired her over the phone at midnight when he was still in Japan in preparation for a game expo. This was before Project Moon released any follow-up statement after the first one.

Project Moon then released another statement that vellmori was merely dismissed, but not fired, and that they aren't disclosing anything more to protect her. They also threatened to sue everyone who spread misinformation, which is hard to define since PM wasn't clearing up anything.

During this many former employees came forward about the poor management they experienced and the lack of employee protection in PM. The visual artist of Leviathan, the prologue comic/novel for Limbus Company mentioned that she was forced within a tight schedule (a chapter every week) without room to make buffer pages in her schedule. When she tried to negotiate for a scheduling change, Kim Jihoon instead cut her contract short.

The english translator for both Limbus Company and it's twitter announcements, in a separate incident, was harassed and cyberstalked on social media, yet Project Moon did nothing to defend him. Kim Jihoon has proven before that he could stand up for his employees, like he did with PM's cafe when customers harassed the staffs. Granted, the translator said that he doesn't want anyone to criticize Project Moon for not defending him, but his letter is still depressing to read, especially when he revealed he had to work on chapter 3.5 overnight while his family member was diagnosed with cancer.

MIMI, the artist for Lobotomy Corporation's spinoff comic Wonderlab, shortly took down the comic due to dissatisfaction with the company.

A youth union was created in response to the controversy, demanding a clear announcement over vellmori's employment status and to compensate her.

PM responded that yes, vellmori has been fired, and claims that she wishes her privacy to be protected to avoid revealing anything further about her dismissal, even though she had already talked to a newspaper about it.

And until this day Project Moon went on a crusade against everyone who directly speak against their decision, from suing peaceful truck protestors and unions, and yet they barely addressed the incels from DCInside who started this all in the first place. The infamy of this incident also brought attention to the rampant misogyny in South Korea, especially in the gaming industry.

Honestly this isn't the first time they folded from the slightest bit of pressure, but the first time it was because a review bomb on Library of Ruina because some blokes didn't like the original ending. I don't know. I feel like they're going to foster a fanbase that thinks they can get whatever they want if they cause a big enough ruckus when things don't go their way. I don't want to be part of that so I've been steering away from the fanbase even if I'm still fond of PM's stories.

Sorry this got long and I don't have complete sources, most of this is what I recall from witnessing it firsthand and I really don't feel like looking for Xitter posts 😭 this post is more complete if you'd like to read more.

[herbalsingularitea]

Jolly Old Saint Bernard (x Reader) (Chapter 2)

Summary - Bernard’s voice was ice. “And we’re quite aware of the climate change issue, thanks. We’re working on it.”

“You’re working on it? Okay, great, nothing to worry about then since Saint Bernard and his 200 year old research team is working on the whole ‘climate change issue’. And when can we expect a solution, chief?”

Pairing - Bernard x gn!Reader

Word Count - 5004

Looking for Chapter 1? Check the Holly Jolly Masterpost pinned to my blog.

Chapter 2 - Chestnuts Roasting

(December 26th, afternoon) 

The human had been set up for about a week now, apparently. The week leading up to Christmas, it was horrible timing. Usually humans wouldn’t be able to get this close without some strategic deterrents sent their way to make them want to turn back themselves. Faced with a dangerous storm, a hungry polar bear, or a sudden crack in the sea ice, a human is much more likely to give up and leave. If they think exploring the arctic wasn’t worth it on their own then that tends to be more effective than if someone tries to convince them there’s nothing to see here, curious stubborn creatures that they are. 

Bernard typed out a message to the Elfcon team on his watch asking about this obvious oversight. How had this human slipped through? 

According to the team, their arrival was noted as they first made camp about 20 miles away and a snowstorm was sent to make conditions uncomfortable enough that they’d leave on their own. The report was sent to his office and he’d signed off on it himself. He could vaguely remember something about that, but he had been busy directing the Core teams on the final stretch to Christmas. An elf scout had been sent out to check on them during the storm; they didn’t want to accidentally freeze the human to death after all. But while the tent and supplies were still there, they and their snowmobile were nowhere to be found. With Christmas on the horizon and no reliable way to confirm their departure with radar once the storm started, the elves assumed they had left. Not so, apparently. 

They were approximately two miles east of Bernard and the reindeer and over a small ridge of icy cliffs, less than 10 miles away from the entrance to Santa’s Village. The thought of a human stumbling onto their little secret was enough to make Bernard break out into a sweat. His head throbbed as he looked at the 8 uncertain reindeer out in the open. They weren’t quite as far out from the Village as they’d normally want to go, but the cliffs blocked the human from seeing them here. He hopped off Dancer and told them all that this year they’d have to keep it confined to the small stretch from here to the Village and a southern flat patch that was around 8 miles total. Not nearly as good as they deserved, but this was a delicate situation here. He placed a small tracker on Dancer’s antler and told her to keep close to the other deer so he could find them all if they needed a quick getaway. She nuzzled his face in response and he gave her a pat before heading out on his own towards the cliffs. If this human wouldn’t leave by conventional means, then he’d have to get confrontational about it. An elf’s gotta do what an elf’s gotta do, afterall. 

You were freezing your ass off here. Your pop up tent wasn’t as warm as your main tent at home camp, but luckily you’d found a little divot in the ice cliff you’d stumbled upon in the storm. It was enough to cut the wind at least and offer enough shelter to help your thin little travel tent keep your body heat trapped. You were glad you had the thought to bring your backpack when you had seen the storm coming and took off on your snowmobile to find XJ-17’s trail. There were plenty of warm layers, rations, fire starters, and flares. You weren't worried about freezing to death, but it certainly was an inconvenience. You had a nice cozy set up at your home camp, which was… somewhere. That was kind of your current problem. When you saw the storm starting, you were worried it would cover the polar bear tracks you’d found your first day on site. You didn’t even get to properly determine which direction the bear was traveling before snow started falling. You thought maybe if you just rushed out to the last place you saw prints, you could get an idea of where to start when the storm blew over. Alas, the way to hell is paved, yadda yadda.

You got lost almost immediately.

None of your radar equipment worked in the storm and surprise, surprise: the one thing you did not have in your backpack? A compass. So onward you’d traveled, practically blind in the storm, looking for something, anything you could use to find your way. When you hit the cliffs you knew you’d definitely not gone the right way and decided to hunker down and wait out the weather. It had been a solid week, if your watch was working correctly, before the storm had finally broken. 

Sitting around in a tent shivering doesn’t seem too strenuous, but you were still exhausted. You couldn’t wait to start heading back to your comfortable little set up. 

Looking out at the frozen land, you could see that the cliffs ran a good way into the distance. Across the flat ice, you saw a break in the cliffs that you recognized. Directly east from that break was your home camp. And between you and the camp was the towering jagged ice mountain you’d admired your first day in the arctic. You must have gone around it in your blind panic to find the tracks. But at least you knew how to get back! Step one, down. Those stodgy old professors who said you wouldn’t make it out here on your own could suck it. You were absolutely killing it right now. 

You turned back towards your humble little temp camp and had to do a double take as you saw a dark figure standing on top of the cliffs above your camp. You choked on a scream as you saw the figure jump from one ledge of the cliffs down to another. That was at least a 15 foot drop! Your breathing sped up as the figure smoothly hopped down two more cliffs with no problems, bringing them just one 30 foot drop away from you and your tent. 

You could see them more clearly now. It was definitely a person, they looked small and wore a cloak and hood so it was impossible to make out their features except for two dark eyes peeking over the edge of a crimson scarf. Despite their acrobatics, they didn’t look particularly threatening. Still, a weapon could go a long way and there was nobody to call for help out here. You made the decision to keep your cool here in the hopes it would at least give you a better idea of the person’s intentions. 

“Hi there! That’s some fancy jumping.”

The figure kept their gaze locked on you in silence for a long moment before they suddenly jumped the remaining 30 feet, tucking into a roll before popping up onto their feet again in a practiced fluid motion. 

You took several steps back at that, keeping a good distance between you and the stranger should they try to attack. Your body was tense, but you purposely kept your voice light as you exclaimed, “Wow! Very impressive!”

The both of you stood in silence, locked in an uneasy staring contest. You took the opportunity to get a better look at the newcomer. Their green cloak looked thick and warm, fur lining the hood and bottom which brushed at the stranger’s knees. Golden tassels attached to the cloak hung down from under a red scarf with golden accents. Long leather boots that also looked fur lined covered what wasn’t hidden by the cloak. Their face was partially covered by the scarf and hood, but you could clearly see those sparkling dark eyes, unflinching in their intensity. 

“Didn’t think I’d meet a LARPer all the way up here in the arctic circle.”

“What?” The stranger’s voice was deep and gruff, but with a pleasant tenor that caressed your ears over the ambient sounds of the wind rushing over the snow drifts. It sent a pleasant tingle up your spine. 

What a strangely musical voice. 

“Your clothes? You look like an extra out of Lord of the Rings. Or, considering where we are, maybe one of Santa’s little helpers,” you chuckled. 

The stranger lifted their arms revealing a leather gloved hand from underneath their cloak and tugged self consciously at their hood. You caught a glimpse of a golden inscription stitched down the side of the green cloak, but you didn’t recognize any of the characters. 

You introduced yourself and looked expectantly at the stiff figure standing between you and your camp. 

“I’m Bernard. Nice to meet you and all, but you need to leave.”

“Oh yeah? And why’s that, Bernard?” you said slightly insulted by his brusque tone. 

“You aren’t supposed to be here.”

“I am, actually. I’m with the Hale Company. I’ve been assigned to track a missing polar bear and her new cub for the research division.”

“Your presence will upset the polar bears, you should leave before they eat you.”

Okay, this guy was starting to piss you off. 

“Listen, buddy—“

“Bernard.”

“—Saint Bernard, more like. If you’re so worried about the bears, then fine,” you growled, marching past him to reach your supplies. After some rustling around in your backpack, you pulled out a folder of laminated pages and handed him the top piece with a smug look. “See? I’m official. The Hale Company has been tracking these bears for over 20 years, so I’m pretty sure what I’m doing is perfectly fine.” 

Bernard scanned the document before him, an annoyed edge crinkling the space between his brows. In a barely audible grumble he said, “Twenty years? That’s nothing. We’ve been keeping track for over 200.” 

“Wait, what? Are you with a research team too?”

He started at your words, his eyes widening briefly before returning to a neutral glare. “The Hale Company. Yeah, I’m familiar with it.” His words were rushed. “Fine, but you aren’t supposed to be this far out.” 

“We follow the bears, Saint Bernard. Our bear, XJ-17, has taken her cub to the mountains just northwest of here, we think.”

“You must mean Catherine, she’s the only one with a cub right now. She’s a sweet bear.”

“If that’s what your team is calling her, then sure.” 

A sweet polar bear? You doubted that. 

He ducked his head, seeming conflicted for a moment, before straightening up with squared shoulders. “You’re gonna freeze out here, y’know. Your little campsite here is pathetic.” 

You bristled at his tone. “Excuse me? I’ve trained for years for this assignment. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. And this isn’t my main camp, it’s a temp. I got caught out in the storm. I’ll be returning to my home camp just as soon as I can.”

You turned and pointed at the distant break in the ice ridge. “See that opening? If I head that way, my camp is a straight shot east from there.”

Once again, a worried look shadowed his eyes. 

“You can’t go that way.”

“I have to! I’m not gonna climb the mountain, that’s crazy. I’ll just ride around it. In fact, I should probably get going soon. The storm may have broken for now, but who knows when another will hit.” 

“No!” He eyed your snowmobile and the dying embers of your fire, his brows pulled tight. “Uh, I mean, shouldn’t you rest a bit first? You seem tired.”

You had planned to rest some before returning actually, but you were eager to escape the rude pushy man who had appeared from seemingly nowhere. 

“Where did you come from anyways? How did you get up on those cliffs?” 

“Got anything to eat?” 

You were briefly thrown by his sudden inquiry. “Um, yeah, I have some rations. Why? You want something?” You felt a sinking feeling of guilt as you put the pieces together. This guy was slim and short, that much was obvious even with the thick cloak. And his voice sounded pretty young. He probably had gotten turned around in the storm himself and was far from whatever research camp he came from. He couldn’t be younger than 18, there’s no way any team would bring a kid up here with them, even for practical education. But maybe he was an advanced uni student? There were certainly other research teams who had less than ethical requirements. It wasn’t outside the realm of possibility, you supposed. So odds were that he was pretty young. He was putting on a brave face, but the stress he was under was apparent. Poor guy was probably hungry and cold and scared. 

Your remaining anger melted away in an instant and you suddenly felt responsible for this young stranger. “Hey, listen. I’m sorry, okay? How about we get you something to eat and then we can find out where you came from.”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, that would be great. Food, I mean. Thanks.”

“Of course! Have a seat. I’m out of firewood, I’m afraid, so we’ll need to eat quick and be on our way.”

“Oh, that’s not a problem. I have wood.”

“Wha—you do? Where?”

He shuffled a bit under his cloak and revealed a brown leather bag slung low at his right hip. It wasn’t very big and you started to protest. You’d need wood bigger than whatever he had in there. But your words died on your lips as he pulled several good sized cut logs from inside the bag. You blinked, and his cloak was back in place, covering the bag once again.

…You must have misjudged how big that bag was. You couldn’t believe he’d been hauling around all that wood. His shoulders were probably killing him right now. 

The two of you settled down around your new fire pit, the fire now cackling steadily as if laughing at your disgruntled appreciation. Of course he’s an expert at making cozy fires. This kid was unnaturally good at everything, it seemed. Typical young genius. You had to work your ass off the past 8 years in university to get here, and you still had some trouble making a fire by hand. But he got one going in less than a minute. 

You watched as he poked the base of the flames, the flickering light reflected in his dark eyes. His eyes were quite distinct, now that you could look without him pinning you in his intimidating glare. Big and brown, deep set but with a sharp edge that kept you on your toes and made you feel uncomfortably seen. His lashes were thick and stark against the tops of his cheeks as he concentrated on his task. As you watched, a small snowflake stuck itself to the edge of his lashes. 

“So do you know where ‘Catherine’s’ trail picks up? You seem to know an awful lot about polar bears,” you blurted out to distract yourself from that little snowflake and the added sparkle it gave his eyes. 

“As a matter of fact, I do. Not that it’s any business of yours. She’s got a cub to care for now, she doesn’t need some amateur researcher barging in on her privacy.”

You made note that he, once again, talks about the bear like she’s a sentient person. And talks about you like you’re five years old. So maybe he wasn’t a teenager then. But he can’t be much older than, what, mid twenties at the oldest? Definitely not older. He’s short, and the few features you can see while he’s bundled up look incredibly youthful, but the way he carries himself is more deliberate, not at all marked with the usual teen awkwardness. 

He was setting up some sort of bracket. Or maybe a rack? His hands were steady as he used a metal tool to dig a narrow hole through the ice and placed polished wooden sticks in them. That bag of his had all sorts of things stored, apparently. He fastened the poles with a complicated looking tie and knot and moved to adjust the whole thing so it was above the fire. 

“That’s why I need to find her! Her cub needs to be registered with our research division. We don’t know how old it is or if it’s healthy. We haven’t even been able to confirm if it’s a male or female.”

“She’s a girl. Her name is Crystal.”

“Okay…Your team sure has some weird naming conventions. But look, I can’t just—”

You abruptly cut yourself off when you noticed Bernard was removing layers and hanging them over the rack he’d built over the fire. He’d removed his heavy cloak and hood and placed it at the right end of the rack, carefully arranging it so that it wasn’t drooping too far into the flames. Next he unwound his scarf and hung it beside the cloak. For the first time, you were able to get a good look at the tenacious man who had harassed you doggedly the past 2 hours. 

Underneath his hood he wore a green beret, decorated with a small medal and ribbon that seemed like real gold, at least it looked that way in the fire light. He pulled it lower on his head and fiddled with its arrangement for a minute, trying to get it to cover his ears. Which you supposed made sense. If he didn’t have any muffs on him then it would be a bit cold to have exposed ears, even by the fireside. His hair, a shaggy cut of bouncy dark curls, was constantly in motion as he expertly pulled at the fingers of his leather gloves, his intention obviously to place those on the rack next. His figure was clearer now, and your confusion grew as you took in his slim body shape. He wore a tunic with intricately decorated stripes of gold and silver threaded down his torso and cut off partway down by an ostentatious leather belt. Around his neck hung a wide gold necklace with what appeared to be bells dangling down from it. The whole thing looked almost like a costume but the obvious care put into the craftsmanship of it spoke to it being a genuine outfit. What an odd ensemble for an arctic trek. Despite his strange attire, he was proportional like a man, no gangly limbs here.

But his face was so youthful. Or was it? 

His jaw was cut and square, his nose long and proud, but something about his face as a whole didn’t look quite right. His cheeks were so smooth, like he’d never needed to shave a day in his life. They were rosy and plump and you swore as the fire flickered across his face, you saw stars light up on the tops of his cheeks. Strange, but not off putting. There was something unusual about how all of his features came together though. Something otherworldly and ethereal. You brushed it off and decided he was just handsome in a unique way, which he definitely was. The warm fire and beautiful snow must just be tricking your imagination into making things seem more mystical than they actually were. 

You took all this in as he placed his gloves on the rack and pushed them over to make more room. In a brief panic, you wondered what else he could possibly be planning to remove next when those sharp eyes flickered up to yours, the silence stretching a touch too long. You realized then that he was leaving room for your clothes to also hang and scrambled to remove your own coat as you continued your argument. 

“—I—I can’t just take your word for it. I don’t know who you are or what team you’re with, but if you won’t identify yourself then whatever you claim about XJ—sorry, Catherine—can’t be properly recorded.” 

“What does it even matter, I mean, why do you care so much if Crystal is recorded? It’s not necessary, she doesn't need to be in your records.”

“She does, actually. In case you haven’t noticed, the sea ice is melting at an alarming rate. We need to keep track of every polar bear we can, especially now that their natural habitat is disappearing. Any researcher worth their salt knows that, Saint Bernard.” You bit out the last sentence with some frustration. “What research team did you say you were with again? Russian?” 

“I didn’t.” His voice was ice. “And we’re quite aware of the climate change issue, thanks. We’re working on it.”

“You’re working on it? Okay, great, nothing to worry about then since Saint Bernard and his 200 year old research team is working on the whole ‘climate change issue’. And when can we expect a solution, chief?” 

“Look, I don’t mean to minimize your work. I’m sure what you’re doing is very helpful—“

“It is, actually. These bears deserve life. Every life on this planet is precious, Bernard, even one’s out here in the remotest place on earth. I don’t know what your teams’ goal is here, but ours—mine—is to preserve habitats for the best life possible for wild animals. Polar bears are struggling and we need to help them. We can’t do that if we don’t know where they are.”

He seemed at a loss for words for a moment, staring you down with an unreadable expression. His cheeks twinkled as one side of his mouth quirked into the first smile you’d seen from him so far. Your stomach flipped at the sight of it, but your stern determined face remained steadfast. You believed in this with all your heart, and you weren't about to give up on your life’s mission just because some handsome stranger from a rival team wanted to scare you off. 

“Fine.”

You broke out of your impassioned thoughts at his even tone. 

“Huh?”

“I said ‘fine’. I get it. You want to record Crystal, then okay. The polar bears are traveling further and further outside their normal territory, I should have seen this coming, really. But the area they’re in now falls under our jurisdiction. The Morozko Company has precedent here, that’s our registered name by the way, since you keep asking, Morozko.”

He spoke with sure authority and you realized you must have seriously misjudged him to think he was a junior researcher. He definitely seemed like he was in some position of power. You’d been warned about the mysterious Morozko Company. No one knew what nation they were affiliated with or where they got their funding. They were a strictly by the book company and had been heading the field on arctic research for the better part of a century. Very prestigious and very exclusive. You suddenly felt a bit out of your depth here dealing with someone who was probably leagues ahead of you in knowledge and experience. 

“Oh, uh, sorry I didn’t know you were Morozko,” you muttered. You decided to take the opportunity to pry a bit about the legendary team that put fear into the hearts of any unethical arctic explorers. “So are you guys Russian based?”

“Sure. Now listen, I’ll let you track Catherine for as long as you need, but you have to keep to the areas I tell you, okay? The ecosystem here is more delicate than you know.”

Your breath escaped you in a sudden rush. “Oh, wow, thank you! You have no idea how much this means to me. And yes, of course, I’ll keep to the approved areas. I’m not a complete amateur—I’m very aware of how fragile things are up here. I’ll gladly follow your lead.”

“Great, I’m glad we understand each other.” 

The two of you chatted here and there as you retrieved and prepared a couple of field rations. Bernard’s face was conspicuously blank as you ate together and you wondered what sort of researcher that had the authority to allow you into another team’s territory wouldn’t be long used to eating the dry tasteless field rations that came standard on this sort of expedition. Morozko probably had special high-end rations or something. 

He certainly was an odd little fellow. But after breaking the ice earlier, so to speak, he actually made quite good company. He was quick witted and funny and certainly knew his stuff. He gave a quick run down of the trails for quite a few bears that had gone off your radar months back, including Catherine, drawing everything out on your map for you to reference later. He marked places where you could potentially set up cameras to keep track of the bears and also marked quite a few places off limits, saying the bears didn’t come close to those areas anyways and that his team was in the middle of conducting some very temperamental observation research there. You promised not to interfere, after all, you were here for the bears. Nothing more. 

He insisted the two of you get a few hours of sleep before heading out to your respective tents. You just yawned in reply, too tired to argue. 

The already light snow stopped falling altogether as you settled into sleeping bags around the fire. Your tent was too small for you both and you were still a bit wary of leaving your supplies out here with a stranger. Luckily you had an extra sleeping bag for him in your snowmobile and the temperature wasn’t too frigid for sleeping with no shelter. 

“So Bernard, got a last name?”

“It’s Evergreen. Bernard Evergreen.”

“You really take this LARPing thing seriously, don’t you? No, I mean for real.”

“It is for real. That’s actually my name.”

You blinked at him in mild surprise. 

“Wow, that’s cool then! Sounds kind of like an elf name.”

“Uh, yeah. So what about you?”

“Oh! Right.” You told him your name, hands fiddling a bit into your sleeping bag as you said it. 

“That’s a great name!” He nodded with a slight smirk. “I approve.”

You rolled your eyes a bit, a smile tugging at your lips at his light teasing. “Yeah, it’s alright, I guess. It’s just a name.”

He chuckled at your exaggerated expression. 

“Names are important. I’ll be sure to remember yours.”

Well that sounded ominous. 

“That sounds ominous, you aren’t secretly a fae are you?” you said with a comically dramatic squint of your eyes. “You are dressed kind of strange, y’know. Maybe you really are one of Santa’s elves come to keep me from discovering his workshop!” you laughed at Bernard’s deadpan expression. 

“Funny. Is that a dig at my height?”

“Well, now that you mention it—“

“Shut it, you.” 

You burst into laughter at his dry remark, and he very quickly joined in. His own laugh was as musical as his speaking voice—like ringing bells—and you felt like you could almost make out a melody in the lovely sounds that came from the man across the fire. It gave you a warm happy feeling that prolonged the fit of laughter both of you had descended into for several minutes, one of you cracking up again and pulling the other back into mirth a few more times before you settled into a comfortable silence. 

Your eyes started to droop as you snuggled deeper into your sleeping bag. It had been a very long day. A long week, in fact. You couldn’t wait to get back to your home camp and relax a bit. You could hear the hot water bottle in the bottom of your trunk calling your name. 

“Sleep well, Bernard.”

You couldn’t see him clearly anymore hunkered down as you were, but his quiet voice had a comforting tone to it as he answered back. 

“You too.” 

Bernard watched the human’s chest slow to a steady rhythm, waiting for them to fall into a deeper sleep. They were… tolerable. Good company, he had to admit. It was nice to speak to someone who wasn’t intimidated by his position. Curtis didn’t often treat him as an authority figure, but he didn’t treat him much like a friend either. More like an older brother he begrudgingly had to admit was in charge while mom and dad were away. And Judy was sweet and professional, she and Bernard had known each other for the better part of millennia. But they just didn’t have the same kind of humor and didn’t often talk about things outside of work. In a lot of ways he appreciated them both for the interaction he got with them. They were the only elves even close to his station of importance. They understood the pressure. But this human was sweet and smart and volleyed his comments right back at him with their own spin. They were interesting. He found himself regretting having to leave so soon. He wouldn’t have minded another couple hours of chatting. But humans need their rest, and the reindeer needed to be brought back to the village before the human started their trek back to camp. If they had left for the break in the cliffs right then, they could have gotten an eyeful of flying reindeer. This whole situation was too close a call for his comfort. 

He pulled himself from the sleeping bag he’d generously been provided and quickly dressed himself back into his warmer outside cloak and scarf. He grabbed a pen from a supply bag and wrote a quick note explaining his absence for when the human woke up and started tugging his gloves back onto his hands. He watched their peaceful face as he did, and found himself admiring the shine of starlight on their hair. It looked quite nice and pleasant to touch if he had felt so inclined. Which of course, he didn’t. That would be creepy. 

Their lips were pouted in sleep. ‘Cute.’ He thought to himself. 

They were a nice human, all things considered. Respectful and willing to play by the rules. He could work with that. 

[charlesandmartine]

Tuesday 21st February 2023

Wildlife

Butcher birds: 2

Kangaroos: several

Cows: several

Sitting on our little verandah admiring the lush grass and vegetation arrayed before us, it's hard to appreciate the hardships these people have suffered in recent years. Just a couple of years ago the rains failed, bush fires brushed close by igniting the tinder dry parched bush but thankfully missing the property due to the prevailing winds, but ultimately resulting in severe shortage of water. With barely enough water stored for the two of them, our landlords needed to make sacrifices to survive, so sadly the cattle were sent to market. Since then circumstances have changed dramatically with the rains coming in February 2022 and not stopping until August the same year, leaving the site a quagmire and inaccessible by motor vehicle. The tranquility and beauty of the place today makes this recent history hard to believe but surely must be a wake up call for what is happening to the climate.

As we sat admiring all this tranquility a chestnut brown cow came up to the barbed wire fence, gave us an endearing look then partook of a very respectable long wee. Then satisfied strolled off no doubt to find someone else to impress. Also domiciled in this field is an enormous black bull owned by one of the villagers for general use in local herds. Apparently he has completed his recent tasks for future generations and now is strutting around his girls looking just a little bored but with a discernable smug look on his face.

The town centre is just 15 mins walk down the road so we strode off to take a look accompanied by a fuzz of interested flies. On inspection, I must say that the town of Woodenbong is more charming than I imagined. This is just the sort of small Australian town we like best. It has a pre-school, kindergarten to year 12 school, 3 assorted churches, small hotel, hardware store, food store, post office, garage and café. Whilst it all looks like something out of Heartbeat but not quite as modern, it was all very nice with its wide boulevards and friendly townsfolk. Outside the council offices was a plan for the town's beautification apparently some money had become available. We didn't like to ask whether it had happened yet or not. We ordered 2 flat whites in the café which in due time (quite a long time actually) were delivered by one of the Aboriginal waitresses. Top marks for quality and value for money. It is highly likely that we shall call in there for breakfast tomorrow morning. We are staying at a place that describes itself as a B&B. So far no trouble finding the bed, just not accounted for the breakfast yet. There is regrettably some disagreement about the origin of the name Woodenbong. One says it was named after the Githabul word Widgenbong meaning wood ducks on water. Others prefer the word Ngudumbunya which means place of trees. Well I suppose it's always nice to have choice. Having supported the local economy to the tune of two coffees we returned to base with our flies for lunch.

This afternoon's program was somewhat interrupted by events beyond our control. The plan was to fire up the powerful Nissan and drive out to see the Tooloom Falls via a small village Urbenville. Sadly on arrival at the entrance to the Falls we discovered it closed due to concerns raised by the Githabul Aborigine Community regarding works to clear fallen trees following recent bad weather and the planning for future development and uses of the area. So that was a shame but nothing could be done. So we pushed on to find a lookout tower to view the Tooloom National Park. To approach this we found ourselves driving along unsealed roads; a tactic not only frowned upon by Mr Avis, but positively outlawed. Well don't tell anyone and everything will be fine. However, the road to the lookout was a very very rough track, one that Mr Avis would more than disapprove of and enjoy sleepless nights. So we went back into Urbenville for an ice-cream. Urbenville was a lovely township named after William Urben the first white child born at the Tooloom gold diggings. It developed at the time of the gold rush in 1858 and although this was largely spent by the late 1870s the township continue to enjoy some success with its timber and dairy industries. It is sad to see the High Street as it is now, but with a school, shop, garage and pub perhaps it might carry on. We noticed they even carted the Senior Folk in a little bus to Woodenbong for the afternoon. I just hope they took them back again.

Now it's evening and we are preparing to move in again in the morning. We will cross the state line into Queensland on route to a small place called Cranley.

[metamatar]

Until about four years ago, I thought it was a reversible situation—that those who profess the humanities hadn’t been good enough at selling them to students,” James Shapiro, an English professor at Columbia, told me in his office one day. He had worried his graying blond hair to a choppy peak. Photographs of Shakespeare productions he has worked on were perched among the books on his shelves, which were close-packed. “I no longer believe that, for two reasons.”

One reason was the way of the world. Shapiro picked up an abused-looking iPhone from his desk. “You’re talking to someone who has only owned a smartphone for a year—I resisted,” he said. Then he saw that it was futile. “Technology in the last twenty years has changed all of us,” he went on. “How has it changed me? I probably read five novels a month until the two-thousands. If I read one a month now, it’s a lot. That’s not because I’ve lost interest in fiction. It’s because I’m reading a hundred Web sites. I’m listening to podcasts.” He waggled the iPhone disdainfully. “Go to a play now, and watch the flashing screens an hour in, as people who like to think of themselves as cultured cannot! Stop! Themselves!” Assigning “Middlemarch” in that climate was like trying to land a 747 on a small rural airstrip.

The other reason was money. Shapiro put down the phone and glowered at it. “You get what you pay for!” he said, and grabbed a departmental memo that lay on his desk. With a blunt pencil, he scribbled on the back a graph with two axes and an upside-down parabola. “I’m talking about the big fire hose.”

As I watched, he labelled the start of the graph “1958”—the year after the Soviets launched Sputnik, when the National Defense Education Act appropriated more than a billion dollars for education.

“We’re not talking about élite universities—we’re talking about money flowing into fifty states, all the way down. That was the beginning of the glory days of the humanities,” he continued. Near the plummeting end of the parabola, he scribbled “2007,” the beginning of the economic crisis. “That funding goes down,” he explained. “The financial support for the humanities is gone on a national level, on a state level, at the university level.”

Shapiro smoothed out his graph, regarded it for a moment, and ran the tip of his pencil back and forth across the curve.

“This is also the decline-of-democracy chart,” he said. He looked up and met my gaze. “You can overlay it on the money chart like a kind of palimpsest—it’s the same.”

the leading lights in the field of english literature apparently can only come up with – phones eating our attention span and the rise of fascism is due to decreased funding for the humanities. if my professors were this out of touch i would not be majoring in this field either. its kind of telling that one of the english majors in the article at an ivy is there because she was sick of students in the political science / philosophy and economics tracks saying the same anti capitalist things

My parents, who were low-income and immigrants, instilled in me the very great importance of finding a concentration that would get me a job—‘You don’t go to Harvard for basket weaving’ was one of the things they would say,” she told me. She was a member of the first generation in her family to attend college—the sort of student that élite schools are at pains to enroll. “So, when I came, I took a course that was, like, the hardest course you could take your freshman year. It integrated computer science, physics, math, chemistry, and biology. That course fulfilled a lot of the requirements to be able to do molecular and cellular biology, so I finished that, for my parents. I can get a job. I’m educated.”

She paused, then added, “I took courses in Chinese film and literature. I took classes in the science of cooking. My issue as a first-gen student is I always view humanities as a passion project. You have to be affluent in order to be able to take that on and state, ‘Oh, I can pursue this, because I have the money to do whatever I want.’ ” Nice work if you can get it. “I view the humanities as very hobby-based,” she said.

this is the buried lede halfway down, which is unsurprising. i made similar calculations when i was a 16 yr old who liked books and computers.

[harrison-abbott]

The day didn’t really begin because he woke up in the

Middle of the night as he often did. He got up slowly,

Feeling confused and not like the person he was when

He was a boy, and turned the light on and got back to

One of the books he was reading. This journal had the

Theme of ‘generations’ and so it was written by various

People across this century, in relation to the last, and

So all kinds of things from the Soviet Union to the

Nazi conquest to the mass immigration of folks to

London all came up. He finished that journal and went

On to the next one (the next in the series) and this one

Was about climate change, in part. He’d already read

An article on the news about global heating just earlier

And it truly seemed like the world was totally f*cked

And it was as if nobody really gave a toss … and, sure

Enough, reading this essay in the journal, they gave

Off further depressing facts/notions. Such as that

India, one of the largest coal burning nations on the

Planet, had almost doubled its coal production in the

Last year; and that China was/is building two coal-

Fired power stations every week. And they aren’t

Even the largest polluting countries per capita on

The earth. There was another example from his own

Country (the UK), whereby a new mine has been

Approved for drilling, which will emit 2.8 million

Tonnes of cooking coal per year for the global steel

Industry. … He read about such things and it went

Back to that mind boggling sense of helplessness

Whereby you feel you could do nothing whatsoever

In the face of such international planners. Because they

Were the ones who had the option to change things, and

They just weren’t going to. Because folks are selfish

And they only think in terms of personal lifetime

Benefit. Of finance and temporary happiness.

Maybe that’s why there was once a God and, after he

Realised what he created, he simply took off and

Left us all to destroy ourselves on this luscious planet

He had created? … Elsewhere in the journal he found this passage which

Was about gold mining in Mexico, and how it was

Interlinked with the cartel drug groups and the government.

And how both were hugely corrupt, and often worked

Together. It explored the violence that was involved

In the system. Apparently more than 111 000 people

Have disappeared in Mexico in the last six years.

This is in relation to the ‘war on drugs’. Whereby

200 000 have been murdered since 2007. The article

Then goes on to explain how the police are as violent

As the cartel groups, with a 600 % increase in security

Force torture in the initial ten years of the war.

It then focuses on the cartel groups as a whole across

The nation, who are so powerful that they actually

Contribute a sizeable proportion of the economy,

Employing around 175 000 people in a range of legal

And illegal roles. … What the cartel groups do is go

Into Mexican towns and cities and recruit children and

Young adults to sell the drugs, with the promise of

Wealth and a ‘career’ in the organisation. They also

Promote the idea that they are the ones offering the poor

A chance to compete with the rich, in an unfair society,

Thus portraying themselves as Robin Hood like

Characters. But the cartel groups are so intrinsic with

Upper society that they often bribe governmental heads,

And the police and military, and thus are only seen as

Another institution. … Crazy crazy crazy.

He got a bit sick of all of this information. It was

Important to read and to increase the knowledge of

Current affairs, especially since it was not regular news

And from a literary journal. But, Jeepers, such info

Can sure put a downer on the mood. Plus, today was

Especially hot. Way hotter than it usually was in

Edinburgh, Scotland. He often thought about his own

Violent past – all those times he got beaten up when

He was younger – and none of that seemed like any

Comparison to the content he’d just read about in

Mexico. … He lay on his bed a while. There was a big wasp in

His room which kept bumping about the walls with

Flat stupid noises. His dog was outside in the garden

Barking intermittently for no other reason than

Old-dog-age. … He thought he’d take a break from

Reading and he stuck a TV show on on his computer.

Police drama. It was pretty good. Wasn’t too violent

And it wasn’t too slick or gaudy, as cop dramas can

Tend to be. It wasn’t exactly happy, either, but at

Least it was fiction and therefore couldn’t be dwelled

On too much. … The episode finished and he lay on

His bed again and listened to the birds outside through the

Open window, with the thick warm air right there

Above his head and he thought about girls he used to

Know in the past and he thought about trips in

Other countries that had a similar type of heat to this.

And there was a small mix of nostalgia, but, mostly the

Humidity crammed his thinking and he couldn’t

Concentrate on one thing. He liked to think that most people

Were good, but it often didn’t seem that way. He turned

Over on his pillow and he got drowsy and fell asleep for

A little bit and he dreamed of people from his past that he never

Really wanted to see again, and when he woke up, with a dry throat

He cursed his subconscious for giving them any cameos, and

Then he got up and went through to the toilet down the corridor

And sat on the pan to pee, and his dog was still barking in her

Half maddened senile way,

Outside in the unusually piping air.