#baby ​i’m an anarchist but then followed it up like two songs later with i was a teenage anarchist. incredible

[chaosgenasi]

saw ljg & the mississippi medicals. i’m different now

[thevalleyisjolly]

Transpacific Stories Rec List!

Happy Lunar New Year!  To celebrate, I thought I’d do a “Top 5″ rec list of creative works that I really enjoy by transpacific Asian creators.

1. diaspora babies by Kai Cheng Thom (poem)

This spoken word poem haunts me to this day.  There’s a lot of immigrant (especially Chinese immigrant) emotions mixed up with queer experiences as a child of immigrants, and the vibes are truly just indescribable.  It cannot be expressed, only felt, so link is to the 4 minute video with captions.

2. Yellow Peril: Queer Destiny by Love Intersections (documentary)

A documentary about Vancouver drag artist Maiden China, which also features lines from diaspora babies!  It is all about that queer Chinese immigrant experience, discussing the nuances of both individually and together.  What is it like to be a Chinese immigrant, or the child of Chinese immigrants, in a North American society?  What is it like to be queer?  What is it like where those two parts of you intersect? 

I had the chance to meet one of the directors on this project and listen to his guest seminar, and the story behind this documentary and the production house came from an incident where some members of the local Chinese Canadian community launched a very public opposition to LGBTQ+ policies by the school board.  The news media of course went into a frenzy over this, and the producers noticed how the story was framed as “the Chinese community is “traditional” to the point of homophobia” (which...yes, there was homophobia involved, but not because of an innate “traditional Chinese are all homophobic” quality).

The documentary creators wanted to unpack, explore, and challenge this, and also to assert that queer Chinese people exist, which is exactly what the documentary does.  It showcases a variety of different relationships and interactions that queer Chinese people have - with their families, their immigrant communities, their heritage traditions, their broader Western society.  It’s a really complex and nuanced discussion, and one of the best documentaries I’ve ever watched.

3. Disappearing Moon Cafe by SKY Lee (novel)

Oh, you thought I was done with the queer Chinese immigrant theme?  Absolutely never.  This is a landmark book in the history of Chinese Canadian publishing - it was the first novel by a Chinese Canadian author to ever be mass distributed by a publishing house (SKY Lee is a lesbian, so first queer Chinese Canadian author as well!)  It follows the story of the Wong family across four generations, discussing themes such as settler colonialism and the roles and relationships that Chinese immigrants had and have with that, migration, family, and the nature of queerness in a non-Western context.

(I do have a whole essay talking about how understandings of queerness are frequently grounded in Western perspectives and how SKY Lee challenges and reframes non-heteronormativity in a uniquely Chinese immigrant context.  But also, you will totally ship Kae and Hermia.   You just will)

A deeply emotional, intense exploration of Chinese Canadian immigration, from its history to its experiences, good and bad and everything in between.  Truly, this may be a fictional novel, but the research is so well done, and if not every detail is historically accurate, the emotional truth of it is.  An excellent book that gives you so much food for thought.

4. A Tale for the Time Being by Ruth Ozeki (novel)

One of the most intense books I’ve ever read, and am still thinking about years later.  I can’t speak to the accuracy of the experiences it represents, but it is a book that will make your heart ache and long and wonder. 

The premise: Ruth, a Japanese American novelist, discovers debris from the 2011 Japanese tsunami washed up on the cost of British Columbia.  One of these is a Hello Kitty lunchbox containing the diary of a girl named Nao.  Nao is a Japanese American teenager whose family had to relocate back to Japan.  She struggles with living in a foreign culture, family struggles and mental health issues, and severe bullying.  However, she also meets her great grandmother, a Buddhist monk over a hundred years old who was an anarchist, feminist, and novelist in her youth.  In documenting her great grandmother’s story in her diary, Nao comes to tell her own.  The novel goes back and forth between Ruth translating the diary and wanting to learn more about Nao, and Nao’s story (and her great grandmother’s) as documented in the diary. 

One of my favourite aspects of this book is the way it plays with perspective.  What is a story?  Who is telling it?  How is a story created and changed by every person who touches it?  What does it mean for a story to end?  Fair warning, there are some very heavy topics dealt with in this book, including depression, suicide, attempted sexual assault, and grooming.  It is a very good book, but please look after your own well-being first. 

5. M. Butterfly by David Henry Hwang (1988 play)

You know the opera, Madame Butterfly?  The racist Orientalist story of the white American Navy officer who goes to Japan, marries a Japanese girl for convenience, abandons her and their child for an American wife, and then she kills herself because she’s so in love with him that she can’t bear it?  Man, just typing that out pissed me off, and it sure pissed off David Henry Hwang too.  So let me tell you what he did about it.

There was a historical incident where a French diplomat, Bernard Boursicot, was caught in a honeypot trap by the Chinese spy Shiu Pei Pu, who was a Chinese opera singer.  For those who are unaware, Chinese opera singers are traditionally men.  Boursicot was unaware of this.  He had a decades long affair with Shiu Pei Pu, who identified themselves as female to him, and they eventually lived together as a family with a child.  It wasn’t until Boursicot was caught smuggling documents and put on trial that he found out Shiu Pei Pu was AMAB.

M. Butterfly is a play based off of this story, with explorations of Orientalism and how Song Liling (the play’s Shiu Pei Pu) was able to exploit racist beliefs and tropes such as “yellow fever” to win the heart and confidence of René Gallimard (the play’s Boursicot).   There’s a monologue in the original 1988 play (I’m not sure if it’s in the 2017 revision though) that Song delivers in the first few scenes of the play that explicitly addresses and tears apart the original Madame Butterfly story (which makes Song’s later use of it to seduce Gallimard all the more spicy - dude, they literally told you from the beginning why they hate the story, and you still believe that they want to be your docile little Butterfly?)  The overall play is a fantastically clever deconstruction of truly so much Orientalism and really challenges how Westerners perceive and depict Asian (especially East Asian) people.

A note on gender in this story: When the play was first performed in 1988, Song Liling’s character is AMAB and largely identifies as a man, with the strong subtext that he enjoys presenting as feminine.  Since 1988, Hwang has acknowledged that the gender reveal of the original play reinforces gender binaries, and has expressed the desire to revise his depiction of gender in the play to encompass genderfluid/GNC identities, which he did in the 2017 Broadway revival.  I have not seen the new version of the play, in which Song identifies themselves as AFAB and male presenting to Gallimard, so I can’t judge how it was handled.  I’ve heard that 2017 Song embraces a more explicitly genderfluid identity, but cannot confirm this.  The 2017 revision is based off of new information revealed about the Boursicot case, including that Shiu Pei Pu initially introduced themselves to Boursicot as someone AFAB who was presenting as male. 

[emybain]

After Archenemies 3/?

In honor of not getting on Tumblr tomorrow, here is part 3 of whatever this is to anyone who liked the first two parts. In all honesty idk what this part is, and it might be a little soon for what follows, but I wasn't planning on making this fic long anyways so...yeah. Here is part 1 and here is part 2 if you care. feel free to check out my other works also! enjoy! warning: I dont really edit these that much, so please be kind if you see errors! this is also shorter than what I usually write, just fyi.

Edit: heck i forgot to post the links to the previous parts...ill do it later lmao

Nova’s communicator band had gone off three times in the past hour. She had taken it off and set it on her mattress after it first went off. She didn't need the distraction, especially if that distraction was Adrian Everhart.

“Why are you still staring at that thing?” Nova looked up to see Honey in the doorway of their shared room, leaning against the cracked door frame. She was examining her polished nails. “If you look at it any longer, the filthy Renegade will be able to turn back to normal.”

Nova pushed back the chair she was sitting on in front of Honey’s vanity where Danna’s butterfly was currently trapped. It remained immobile for the most part. When Nova would start to worry if it had died, it would crawl around its little prison. “Just thinking.” About her uncle. About how they would be able to free him from the Renegades. About Nightmare. About a certain Renegade boy.

She closed her eyes, feeling a headache forming at the base of her neck.

“Well, you can think and answer your little Renegade buddies.” Honey gestured towards the communicator band resting on top of a jewelry box. “That ringing is driving me nuts. I can hear it all the way downstairs.”

Nova rolled her eyes, but picked up the band nonetheless. “It’s only gone off three times, Honey. Don’t be so dramatic.”

“Me? Not dramatic?” Honey laughed, the sound like bells. “In your dreams, sweet girl.” She strutted into the room, reached over Nova, grabbed a magazine that was open on her vanity, and sauntered back out. Her perfume lingered, stronger than ever. Nova waved her hand in front of her face. Vintage fumes were the last thing she needed for her aching head.

Her communicator band went off again, and she heard Honey yelling from the first floor to shut it off before she did. Nova looked down at the device, scrolling through her notifications. The first one, nearly an hour ago, was from Adrian.

This is last minute, but we’re meeting in the HQ library in about 30 minutes, Let me know when you get here. It’s about Nightmare.

Nova froze. That couldn’t be good. This was it, she thought. They figured her out, and this was Adrian trying to lure her into a trap to arrest her.

Taking a deep breath, she checked the next message, which was sent twenty minutes after the first.

Nova? Are you busy? If not, please respond.

The third one was five minutes after the first.

Of course you’re busy. You would’ve responded by now. Ignore my last message.

The most recent text was sent two minutes ago.

Nova? We’re all here. You’re not dead or something, are you? Please tell me you aren’t because I would be really upset.

Nova snorted, shoulders relaxing in relief. She believed she was safe, for the time being. She bit her lip, thinking of a response.

Hey. Sorry. Turns out I’m pretty sick, and my uncle took anything that could distract me so I could rest.

Nova thought back to a few days before, when she had pretended to feel under the weather in order to have an excuse to leave the visit to Max. She couldn’t stand to be there any longer without being weighed down by the guilt. It was a believable lie. Besides, she didn’t have time to do detective work with Adrian on her secret identity, nor did she have the patience for it. The quicker she and the rest of the Anarchists figured out a way to free Ace, the sooner she could drop the ridiculous Renegade charade.

Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Do you want me to come by later to give you some company?

The smile that grew on Nova’s face was inevitable, along with the giddy spark in her stomach. She suppressed it though, and denied his offer, pushing away all thoughts of being able to curl up against Adrian while they did something as mundane as watching a movie.

No, thank you though. My uncle is pretty strict whenever I get sick and doesn’t like visitors. Maybe another time?

She received a response almost immediately.

Definitely! I hope you get to feeling better, Nova.

It was so sweet. Nova’s heart ached. Even though she wasn’t sick, she had a feeling she would feel better soon anyways.    

Thanks, Adrian.

Nova sent the text. She debated on whether or not to send something else. Something came to mind, and she immediately cringed. Then Ace’s words floated through her mind. Earn his affection.

Well.

With a defeated sigh, Nova reluctantly sent a text with a heart.

Sweet rot, her IQ just dropped by 20.

Downstairs, Honey started singing. Nova suspected she was cleaning; she tended to sing when fixing up the old house. Nova groaned. Honey wasn’t a terrible singer, but it did not mix well with Nova’s pounding head. Maybe she was actually getting sick.

Standing from the vanity, Nova brushed off her leggings. The butterfly was moving in its prison, crawling lazily along the side of the glass. Nova bent down to eye level with it. She could’ve sworn it made eye contact with her.

“I’m sorry it has to be this way,” she murmured. “Maybe in a different reality we’d be friends.” She meant it, much as she hated to admit it to herself. Danna was a lot like her; it was a shame they were too alike, for that’s what got Danna trapped in the first place.

Nova sighed and rose back up. She took off her communicator band, then reached for her coat lying on the bed and headed downstairs. Honey’s trilling voice grew louder. She was singing some song about the beauty of the southern countryside.

Leroy was seated in the dimly lit kitchen, surrounded by lab equipment. Nova saw the samples of Agent N she had snatched in the past few weeks. He nodded in Nova’s direction as form of greeting, too engulfed in his work. As Nova suspected, Honey was cleaning. She was standing on a towel on top of the counter, wiping a wet rag across the higher cabinets.

Nova cleared her throat. “I’m going for a walk. You guys need anything while I’m out?”

They both chorused a “No.” Nova nodded.

“I’ll be back, then.”

“Hey, Adrian...um… come check this out,” Ruby whispered hesitantly from the computer across his. Adrien looked up from his communicator band, the faint trace of a smile on his lips from Nova’s last text. The heart was unexpected, and frankly, not like Nova at all, but it radiated Adrien’s body in warmth. The concentrated set in Ruby’s eyes made the smile fade, however.

They were in the Renegade library and archives, doing research on Nightmare. Adrian had about five open tabs about her most recent sightings and activity. One of the tabs was an article discussing the identity of the Anarchist, but the information was of no use to Adrian.

He got out of his chair and walked around the table to stand behind Ruby. Next to her, Oscar leaned over, craning his neck to see the screen. There was an unopened file in front of Ruby.

“So I was thinking about what you told us, about Nightmare being Ace Anarchy’s niece?” Adrian nodded, and Ruby continued. “Well, his last name is Artino, correct?” Adrian nodded again. “I looked up the name, and well, I guess you should see for yourself.” She clicked on the file. It was a report from about ten years ago filed by his own dad, Hugh Everhart.

Four people found dead. David Artino: age 31. Tala Artino: age 30. Evie Artino: age 11 months. One unnamed man: age unknown. Suspected Anarchist or Roach affiliation.

Forensics confirm all deaths were a result of direct trauma from bullet wounds, without prodigy interference. Prints found on the gun matched both those of the unnamed man and also those of Alec Artino (alias: Ace Anarchy).

There is reason to suspect the deaths of the three family members were done as a killing for hire. The motive for the homicide remain under investigation. See the full report as filed by Hugh Everhart (Captain Chromium) here.

Additional notes: The eldest child, a six year old girl, was not found at the scene. Neighbors have reported no knowledge of her whereabouts. A report has been made to the Renegades missing persons unit.

Oscar whistled lowly. Ruby had highlighted the last paragraph. She was watching the two boys, lips pursed. Adrian read the report, over and over again. Something about it wasn’t right.

“Was the girl ever found?” Oscar asked. Ruby answered his question by opening another file. This one was a missing persons form, dated ten years ago. 

Name: Nova Jean Artino

Age: Six (6) years old

Height: Unknown

Weight: Unknown

Description: Black hair, blue eyes, parents were Italian and Filipino.

Status: Not found

If any information is known, contact the Renegades Missing Persons Unit.

Below the information was a fuzzy picture of a girl, taken by an outdated camera probably. She grinned at the person behind the camera, a wide gap below her upper lip where two front teeth should have been. In her arms was a newborn baby, fast asleep in her sister’s arms. Adrian let out a small gasp. He took the mouse from Ruby and zoomed in on the girl’s face. Her features were chubby, but the hard set of her jaw was unmistakable.

“Great skies,” Oscar breathed. “That’s not...it can’t be..”

“It is,” Ruby confirmed, disbelief in her voice. “That’s our Nova.”

[jameypants1-blog]

jameypants1 Wow I just lost a post spent last few hours on it got into the two Mary's of Christianity representing same woman and how the Mother aspect of you is what keeps me from degeneracy, from running off to child fuck island with the Clinton's or skiing with Kim. As I wrote it realized it was the best piece I've ever written. Went on to explain that being with you is not suffering Evil, you aren't evil just nonjudgmental and intolerant of me being intolerant, that if I'm to beat this beast out of Love for everyone then I won't do it by hating on even them bc that would be hypocrisy and in violation of free will and that you'd break see me broken again and again long as I tried to cheat out of here and I explained that I'm portrayed as a virgin and that virtuous women my nun army of virgin wives were representative of your jealousy which there was also no trading BJ's with anyone loophole around bc the other aspect of Mother is the world's most notorious whore who washed my feet and I hers and who ever after is my wife until death do us part a junk clause bc we're immortal caretakers of our own souls and anyone with a problem with you and I being together with any complaints about smelling you on me must be as afraid and suspicious of women as wsb or the very Devil who made sure that Religion villified and why few Queens enjoyed the stature of Kings bc of the likes of you, Elite of your own, not against them even work for them sing their songs lobby for them keep their secret even though they murder the world who you let be responsible for themselves extend kindness to but feel no obligation to enlighten since anyone really in need of knowing will, let them do their own homework bc freedom is earned not anyone else's responsibility to bestow upon them, your love of the most vulnerable in this sick society close as you'll ever see fit to protect or embolden anyone and that's not Evil it's pretty fair even it's just not how I'm wired and you're cool with that so long as I don't become bff's with every woman bound to fall in love with me should they know me which is why it may sound like all my friends are guys when it's actually women I respect most all the advice daddy ever gave me is don't get queer and stop playing with yourself, which amounts to don't cheat on your wife mind your Mother so he's a big help I guess and all these karma police antipop jambi lambasting bff's of mine implying I do it all for you not love of neighbor can kiss my ass since when is loving your woman more than anyone else a symptom of diminished character? By God you are my other half what makes a human whole hearted and everyone deserved that straight gay whatever but for me you and you me so how we under arrest karma police serving human best interest or perversly jealous twats? I'm leaning strongly toward twats. That wolfman coming out shit Neil wrote even eggs me on to kill you! And plenty of your friends sure love it if you kill me so wtf is up here? Who is suffering Evil? Me for loving my impartial wife who offends the dear leader by loving me the Judas of the book of Lucifer over her Loyalty to keep their secret or me for suffering them their Savior who took away no one's center but made them immortal delivered them from Evil, shine upon the broken benevolent son, yeah Maynard that's my fucking job and that's what I'm do and when the two become one which you damn we'll know we already are what catastrophe is it to win lose or draw keep the band together no matter what and take however many runs as this Hydra upon the bloodied battered face of the Earth as it takes to win or defy NADA and evac flight away from here, no one but those who choose Evil forsaken. She chose me. I'm not Evil. And no Evil would ever choose me. Women take a beating bc of her loyalty and love, blamed as the reason we Original Sinners knowing Good from Evil got a satellite religion shaped around us organized under Law to that us should we make good on that one more round every last executed one of us swore against them. That she escaped execution offensive? I'm sorry jameypants1 she was clever enough to bewitch her way clear of inverted crucifixion or the Lions den, she should have denied me I guess like all of you and ran for the hills instead of sticking thru the bitter reprisal and snatching away my corpse, her dead body not theirs, and doing what she felt she had to to consecrate us beyond the same mortality she suspected same as you fellas running for you abrubtly cut short Judas lives soon as War on us was waged. Daddy didn't run he was kind enough to fuck the whole lot of us though soon as he realized I really was shutting down their house bc that fucking caveman never wants the good old days to end so he left his head way back there and held us, says he invited me in but I was already his son and your brother but it's always been my wife excluded from the group hug bc of jealousy, Kurt sure have loved to stick around trading BJ's but has a job to do drain me instead bc still smells my wife on me, that's pretty fucking far to go, marry a loathsome whore and get murdered maybe but for sure suicided leave me with Live Through This like I did that to any of you, fuck that I nutted out back there in the desert we all did and she wasn't the cause we were all possessed by hate not her we went after them not her she was just following me bc where else she gonna go when her insane husband and his band of anarchists were certain of their Rebellion to overthrown the royal crown of Satan in a truth telling crusade replete with assault upon temples and a pirate campaign encouraging everyday people to rise up against dear Satan and refuse to participate in his sick economy game. She's the one put up with some bullshit, I sure as fuck wouldn't have followed her into a fight I didn't agree with in the first place and sign on to stick with her forever if I didn't Love her more than even myself. And she signed on and not once has betrayed me. Only helpful advice I e er get is for Mother. And that we are the Monsters of this 2nd act is fucking obscene, the shit she's taken off me and over me is undeserved and my kissing all your asses running around afraid of her is all the proof I need of the severity of appreciation was taken out on me by the honorable public servants who gave me my day in the court of their loyal Patriots opinion. I daresay they knocked me absolutely out of my senses for me to be so tangled up in some bullshit and an embarrassment and human wreck when she showed up for me. Let's all stop pointing fingers at each other now and stop calling my girl Hitler ya freaks she's Pure, we're the intolerant ones. Suffering Fools, and me the King. I'm going to follow her now. I conclude she has the exit strategy to get us all out of this mess simply bc she's as sick as we all are of going through this, so sorry Daddy I know you love this game but we're burning down the house and doing something new so let's all stop being tadpoles and get froggy now take the leap of faith that NADA can't keep us from making into space rock adventures sans this fucked up holy war horsepiss what's driven us insane and bipolar. Stefani you want something Sacred from me you got it baby anything you want you got with me, follow you now, bc big dumb Rocky and friends keep getting knocked the fuck out. Mostly me. Mostly out of jealousy. So it's private time. Unless you and I can't trust each other unless my character is lacking unless they're all right about you and I'm too stupid to play with the big kids who wouldn't even be here without us, not saying anyone owes me anything as ever I do all this for free and out of Love and it doesn't inconvenience anyone more than my woman, the best part of me. So let's begin. Tired of repeating myself and let's have our love and loyalty again and not blame any of each other for what happened in the past which is behind us and not to be repeated like the stupid ugly history the elite creeps keep going here, this party's over, let's go 💡 light it up light it up. https://youtu.be/riAkBFKRqz0 Thank you for that daddy. Still cherish day I got that album, chilling with friend of mine, kid from work at BBQ joint, played lot of dice and drank and smoked listening to mostly his children's punk favs no/fx, blink182, etc bc this was pre computer and I didn't have any music bc CDs turned into beer funding. Anyway when I saw this out had him rush me the record store got it and some sex pistols bc punk lover he was had never heard of them, got home and insisted we listen to this first so he get an idea why metal was so cool since shit on the radio all he'd ever heard and by and large found it boring and stupid, hour after hour of blocks of metallic at work between occasional guns n roses or token play of paranoid give anyone the idea metal was mostly shitty I reckon, anyway when this got to chorus he and I exchanged a look that shocked me bc all a sudden he thought I must wanna fuck him. It was unspoken but palpable and within two minutes we were listening to pistols and fuck yeah that rocks really do hear the influence in all that kiddy punk he was into, would have hooked him up bad religion too but I was next best friend for a minute away from hearing br, maybe later gave whole album one listen before returning it for beer and that day was pretty much the end of that friendship, we hardly ever hung out after that bc you made him think I wanted to fuck him, always wanted to thank you for that, really embarrassing! And bullshit. Don't fuck my friends. They're too busy fucking me. Not that I'm unappreciative. I know you were looking out for me.