#communist corpses

[nerendus]

I only got...four songs on here..., but I am in desperate need of songs for my new little mad scientist from the Cold War girly...She is everything to me.

[gumheel]

had city of mist yesterday. giggling and kicking my feet

[please-read-my-bio0]

Now, since you're here, please let me tell you about @haithamnayef

Haitham's little boy, Mohammed, has been struck in the head with a shrapnel. He hasn't received the cures he urgently needs. His health is deteriorating every day. His life is a risk.

He is just an innocent child, why does he have to face this?

His only hope is to evacuate to receive the treatment he needs.

$20,000 is the amount needed to evacuate Mohmmed, along with a caretaker. Currently, the fundraiser is only at $2,871. Time is running out. Please, save this sweet child.

And if you need another incentive to donate, people here on tumbrl are doing art commissions, raffles and writing commission to raise money for palestinian fundraisers. Just search for them.

Vetted here

Tagging for reach:

@dirhwangdaseul @gorgugplushie @genderkoolaid @opencommunion @stuckinapril

@sawasawako @metanarrates @beserkerjewel @mar64ds @soon-palestine

@infectiouspiss @timetravellingkitty @appsa @withthewindinherfootsteps @sillysymbol

@hiveswap @triangleguy @sketiana @funds4gaza @cetitan

@ankhisms @communist-ojou-sama @ghosthoodie @rickybabyboy @etchif

@fromjannah @catamaurrr-star @chronic-lesbian @wormzandgutz @postanagramgenerator

@toasty-self-shipping @butchfeygela @puppyizm @pulsingvoid @poetrylesbian

@skunkes @danijaci @girl-biter @cupiidzbow @junkirat

@maybuds @beetlebongos @littlegermanboy @dykentery @itwashotwestayedinthewater

@fishfingersandscarves @sunshinetomorrow @thetyrannosaur @worm-suggestion @nyaskitten

P.S.

As you can see, I have mentioned movies that are owned by Disney or can be found on Amazon Prime. Remember not to use their official platforms, as they are supporting the genocide.

[mesetacadre]

What might decolonization in the US after a successful socialist revolution look like? Would there be one big government still? A sort of union of socialist republics? Something else entirely? Honestly I don't know how to ask.

Post-revolutionary decolonization (and realistically, the only kind of meaningful decolonization that is ever happening) in the US is a complicated matter given the relative success of the USAmerican genocidal project. The native population is 1.1% of the total population as of the 2020 census, this means that unlike in other, incomplete, settler projects such as the Sahrawi Republic or Palestine, it isn't feasible to restore the relation of the native population to the totality of the country. Regardless of population proportions though, the main focus of socialist decolonization is the struggle against any conflict between nationalities by removing the economic basis of that antagonism, which would then allow to also begin to remove the cultural elements that reinforced that dynamic of oppression. The focus is not to create more landlords but native, it's to remove the structure around private property in general, and make sure every worker, native or otherwise, receives as is needed. Taking into account the already relative dispossession of native people even before a pre-revolution context, there will have to be a great effort to bring the conditions of native people at the same level of non-native people.

Regarding the form of the new state, this will evidently depend on the form of the US state as the revolution happens. In other countries this would not be such a pressing question, but given the role and strength of the USAmerican bourgeoisie, it's not hard to believe that for any revolution to take place, the US state would need to be considerably weakened. Keeping this in mind, the strategy followed by all hitherto socialist revolutions is to not further fragment the new state. Given the complexity of navigating the construction of the first elements of a socialist economy, with the simultaneous effort needed for security, it would be both counterproductive and hypocritical to explicitly seek the independence of a portion of the population, as a part of the political program, it would be taking two steps forward and one step back. The communist revolution is national in form, because it happens within the structure of the capitalist state, but it is also international in content, because it explicitly repudiates the division of the proletariat along national lines.

We must understand that nationality, as much as it is relevant today and as much as it influences the course of history, is a byproduct of the development of capitalism, and that since it arose from the infrastructure to justify and protect it, it will also have to seize to exist and be replaced with proletarian internationalism for the duration of the transition to socialism-communism. Keeping this in mind, it would be hypocritical and regressive to, after taking control of the state and beginning the transition away from capitalism, to then turn around and divide the working class of the new country into even more national categories than they already are divided into.

The early USSR is a good comparison because of the sheer quantity of national diversity contained within the bounds of the corpse of the Tsarist Empire. The policy of the bolsheviks was neither of Russian supremacy or of immediate splintering into hundreds of nation states. Even during the very complicated and desperate context of the civil war, Finland was allowed its independence without much fuss from the CC, even if they were immediately incorporated into the German sphere via Von Mannerheim. When the 1936 constitution was being discussed, it was Stalin himself who went against the wishes of many bolsheviks to prevent the republics from gaining independence if they wished. No republics requested this however, because the oppressive mechanisms of capitalism and feudalism that had kept them under the Tsar's thumb for centuries had been replaced with an economic system that assured the equal development of all peoples within the USSR. The USSR itself was also not absolutely centralist, and the many constituent republics had varying degrees of autonomy, reflecting in some aspects the structure of democratic centralism.

I don't think the answer is to replicate the USSR, of course. The context and general state of things are very different, but there are lessons to be learnt from this successful, albeit flawed, tackling of the national question. Again though, we can't really speculate on the way that the US will look right before a revolution, and consequently the structures and problems a revolutionary government will have to start from.

[wildwildwasteland]

what if the karma system is a canon pip-boy feature so the reason it's like "stealing is wrong. but killing this random guy we say is a criminal and taking his corpse money? hell yeah brother you're the best!"

it thinks the NCR are just the normal government and it thinks the legion are communists

Honestly while this tracks perfectly with what I'd expect from using vault technology and is a fun in-universe explanation, I don't think we should obfuscate what the karma designations in the game say about the creators' own biases and values (which seldom diverge from those of broader mainstream/capitalist culture).

[lalalian]

into the far lands of the celatum... | aethergarde academy

date: october 8, 2024

EDIT: I don’t mean a lot as in like ‘major resource’ I mean a lot as in it gets a lot of one really niche resource from this island, namely ce’ceri scales; ce’ceri aren’t known to the world really, but their scales sometimes escape the barrier bc they contain a pretty good amount of mana

where am I?

I've really been starving ya'll lately in terms of actual main story lore, so, think of this post as (yet another) teaser.

This is like huge, actually 😭😭 not the island, I mean the importance of this place.

Today, I'll talk more about mermaids and their effects on Ostathia and the rest of the world.

BUT

Before that, let's talk mermaids (in general!!)

why are merfolk even important?

Merfolk are extremely important when it comes to trade, guiding, and water safety. Eudora has a tight bond with the merfolk-- they often do spy work and provide resources to land dwelling people that can only be found underwater.

I don't think I can stress how important merfolk are when it comes to trade, like they can block off trade routes within minutes if they want to.

Brimstone (Brimstone=all the kingdoms/empires on the continent) has a hard time trading with other places because merfolk constantly try to wreak their ships due to their alliances with other empires... especially Eudora and Caldarune. Asahn's outside alliances + the merfolk they're allied with do help reduce the attacks. It's not uncommon for empire to pay merfolk to do this; this is including the Eudora Empire.

Even if you use aircraft (atm, the only flying transportation vehicle is a floating ship invented by an institute in Aielles), you'd have to fly at a certain distance above water + make sure the bottom of the ship is strong enough to withstand their arrows. No, the merfolk aren't just going to throw spears at the ships by hand, they've made cannon-like machines to cause as much damage as possible.

Trading groups who are rich enough to have reinforced top-of-the-line air ships can generally withstand the merfolk's revolts.

asahn's history with merfolk

Asahn is the only Brimstone territory that has an alliance with some kind of merfolk group-- the group they're allied with is a small colony of 120~ who also don't like humans and have been known to have a peculiar taste for dragon flesh + blood.

If you've read the stuff in the script about Asahn, I think you could infer where they get their supply of dragon corpses (if you're deemed too weak for your dragon, your dragon is removed from your care).

I'd like to point out that Asahn is not a communist country, it's more totalitarian. There's nothing Asahn desires more than strength and power, to be worthy of noble status, you must be a B tiered rider or higher. Race and gender generally don't matter, you just need to be as powerful as you can possibly be.

Some of Callisto's resources are from Asahn

why are merfolk important to ostathia?

Ostathia was sealed by unknown entities for the last century. Though, the residents of Ostathia do know it was by aquatic beings.

Merfolk.

Ostathia is hidden from riders, dragons, and even other merfolk-- they cannot sense the presence of the force shield or the residents living in Ostathia. You can literally sail through Ostathia and not even know you did so.

Residents born in the kingdom of Ostathia (their residents call themselves Ostathees) don't leave; no outsiders were reported to have entered Ostathia since its closure.

The mermaids who reside in this kingdom care for the ce'ceri (seh-sir-see) -- water serpents. These serpents are a relative of the bakunawa, but these serpents are different enough to be unable to mate with bakunawas.

ostathia

I'm not going to say everything (once again, lmao) but I'll leave this post off with this:

The weakest point of Ostathia's barrier is located at the billows, it may only be marginally weaker, but it's weaker nonetheless

Who are the residents of Ostathia?

Are we really sure that nobody's left the kingdom in the last century?

Who are the dragons hanging around the Isles of Phaum?

Do/did the ce'ceri have riders?

Who is the black ce'ceri?

-

-

-

I'm open to questions about Ostathia as long as it's not related to the major conflicts directly.

I will say that you will be dealing with this kingdom in your last year at aethergarde academy.

wanna know more about my aethergarde academy dr? here's a masterlist with everything I've posted about it!

[controversiai]

Id say warning in general.

"But im anti-contact!! Mememe-"

Youre apart of a community that was meant to be xenosatanist, literally check out the older radqueers, they're straight up xenosatanist, if you see someone being political satanist that sounds similar to rq that's xenosatanism.

Radqueer was coined with sex offenders being welcomed in mind, with pro contact people being welcomed in mind, they were created by people who thought that kids animals corpses could consent. Im being serious.

Look at the original blog who coined radqueer.

Anti-contact etcetera werent welcome in the community in the first place, they never have been. There is a reason why in 2021, the community first formed it was full of 'political satanists' now known as xenosatanists. Radqueers didnt love anti-contact people, in anyway shape or form.

And this is a note from the original coiner, i personally find it problematic. You finding it problematic or not is really up to you.

After this is just me.

Istg if i see a radqueer say 'oh rad because were cool!!' there's a reason why its Radical, it isnt to look cool. The term was created by political satanist before xenosatanism didnt exist, radqueer was an attempt to coin xenosatanist as it didn't exist at the time of 2021. But it does now.

You cant be anti-contact and radqueer, its literally strictly pro-contact.💀

Also for stupid fuckers who are tryna reclaim radqueer and xenosatanism, you cant, those are literal political stances. Im serious.

You cant reclaim something that says shit like:

(Im not putting text for this disgusting thing.)

Also can you reclaim the term 'conservative' fuck no, you cant. Can you reclaim the term 'facist' or 'communist' or 'anarchist' ? No. No you cant, but you can make new things. So shut up and make those new things. You cannot reclaim it.

[naturalselection148]

introducing myself ehehheeheh

block don’t report pls

erm…haiiii. my name is violet and uhm here’s a few things about myself

i’m interested in true crime. like a lot. religiously. i’m planing on becoming a criminologist so yeahhhh ><

im a communist. prolly because my country was in ussr before so that’s pretty self explanatory idk or maybe bc i’m mentally unstable

my favorite book is ,it’s kind of a funny story’ by ned vizini. go read that book. or watch a movie. both are great eheheh.

also my favorite book is communistic manifesto by karl marx.

i read a lot so there’s never just one book that i liek in particular. they’re all great :3

my favorite movie is called ,brother’ it’s like a russian movie about russian gangsters in the 90s. i feel like tcc people would love it.

on my daily basis i usually daydream,read,sleep, think of different ways to kms, watch movies, and play minecraft :3

bands i listen to: kmfdm, rammstein, icp, gojira,kino, molchat doma, MSI, mastodon, sektor gaza,hole, bikini kill, six feet under, cannibal corpse, scorpions,valentin strykalo, STUTTER,blur, misfits, la dispute,SOAD,candlemass,syphilic,weezer, the cure, the doors, radiohead, psychonaut 4 (my faves atm) and much more :3

i play piano, guitar and bass. know a little bit of drums and violin

i know russian & english lowkey wanna learn polish

if you don’t agree with something i wrote down here just remember that it’s your opinion and i won’t even listen to it sorry not sorry

englaish is not my langueage so sowwy in advance)))

love y’all

(this is walter white by the way say hi to him)

[pumpacti0n]

have y'all noticed that it's always the anarchist or anarchist-leaning who are pressured to compromise with or excuse authoritarian bullshit? and hardly ever the other way around?

criticisms of communist groups or state capitalist regimes are frequently met with accusations of being "divisive" while the organizations being criticized are (quite literally, in the form of borders and prisons,) constructing and enforcing barriers to social cohesion...

make it make sense!

this is not an appeal to dismiss the fact that the legacy of the red scare has had an enormous impact on popular conceptions of communism...but that's why there's a critical need to differentiate between accurate and fair critiques -- rooted in creating a higher standard for liberatory projects -- and reactionary criticism, that is the product of nearly a century of propaganda manufactured by capitalists in the imperial core to discredit and discourage anything left of neoliberal charity "activism".

we cannot afford to waste even more effort on repeating failed experiments that resulted in the creation of authoritarian dictatorships exploiting those they claim to represent.

we must adapt to the urgency of our situation by broadening our scope to include ideas and actions that won't create new toxic hierarchies that inspire cults of personality. we have to be willing to challenge past assumptions and biases in order to advance and challenge the powers that be.

without understanding why popular communists movements were crushed, infiltrated or rendered inert, how can we hope to liberate ourselves from the state, capitalism, white supremacy or patriarchy?

exposing the abusive tendencies in these groups and their ideologies doesn't "divide" us, it merely empowers us to avoid the same pitfalls of previous movements and keeps us safe from bourgeois elements hoping to exploit our ignorance for their gain. not everyone who claims to be a "leftist", communist or otherwise, is to be trusted based off of their words and aesthetics alone.

we can start by having a consistent analysis of how power is wielded, by gauging what can be done to flatten power dynamics to be more horizontal instead of creating permanent positions of authority that, even with the best of intentions, leaves us less capable of creating a society of truly liberated individuals, built from a culture of solidarity and self-determination.

let's learn from the past. let's be brutally and thoughtfully honest, inspire each other to do better and think for ourselves instead of trying to revive the corpse of a previous iteration of struggle, and do what is necessary to achieve this project.

[scarecloud69]

Things you CAN do in Team Fortress 2

throw a jar of your piss at people

bludgeon someone to death with a bust of Hippocrates (with do no harm plaque on it)

whip your teammates and yourself with a riding rod (makes you run faster)

get achievements like Communist Mani-Fisto, Lenin A Hand, Marxman, and my favorite Rasputin (get shot, burned, bludgeoned, and receive explosive damage in one lifetime)

drink radioactive soda pop

be dressed as Davy Jones from Pirates of the Caribean (without mods)

flick a cigarette at your enemy's corpse (and get achievement if you screenshot it and send it to him)

light your fart and damage your opponent with it

have a Texan accent (Yeehaw!!)

Things you CAN NOT do in Team Fortress 2*

find a server without bots

play the game without bots spamming chats with hate speech or ads

play the game without bots blasting... things in the voice communication

play the game without getting an insta headshot from a cheater bot

get limited items since 2/3 of cases go to bots for the profit of their creators

(*or with extreme difficulty)

PLEASE sign the petition asking Valve to do something about this, thank you...

[marxistlesbianist]

We hear a great deal about the crimes of communism but almost nothing of its achievements. The communist governments inherited societies burdened with an age-old legacy of economic exploitation and maldevelopment. Much of precommunist Eastern Europe, as with prerevolutionary Russia and China, was in effect a Third World region with widespread poverty and almost nonexistent capital formation. Most rural transportation was still by horse and wagon.

The devastation of World War II added another heavy layer of misery upon the region, reducing hundreds of villages and many cities to rubble. It was the communists and their allies who rebuilt these societies. While denounced in the U.S. less for leaving their economies in bad shape, in fact, the Reds left the economy off Eastern Europe in far better condition than they found it.

The same was true of China. Henry Rosemont, Jr. notes that when the communists liberated Shanghai from the U.S.-supported reactionary Kuomintang regime in 1949, about 20 percent of that city’s estimated 1.2 million were drug addicts. Every morning there were special Street crews “whose sole task was to gather up the corpses of the children, adults, and the elderly who had been murdered during the night, or had been abandoned and died of disease, could, and/or starvation” (Z Magazine, October 1995).

During the years of Stalin’s reign, the Soviet nation made dramatic gains in literacy, industrial wages, health care, and women’s rights. These accomplishments usually go unmentioned when the Stalinist era is discussed. To say that “socialism doesn’t work” is to overlook the fact that it did. In eastern Europe, Russia, China, Mongolia, North Korea, and Cuba, revolutionary communism created a life for the mass people that was far better than the wretched existence they had endured under feudal lords, military bosses, foreign colonizers, and Western capitalists. The end result was a dramatic improvement in living conditions for hundreds of millions of people on a scale never before or since witnessed in history.

Michael Parenti, Black Shirts and Reds: Rational Fascism and the Overthrow of Communism

[stressfulsloth]

An assorted collection. The underground network of caves is everpresent in DE, buried beneath the character's feet. History pushed down below, out of view, or hidden until it's safe to bring it out again. Buried out of fear, to protect and to preserve out of hope, to mourn, or out of a need to hoard. Buried memories, buried corpses from the war, buried remenants of the revolution, buried treasures in Le Royaume. Underground subcultures, underground political movements. Even deeper below, an ancient buried civilisation. Layer after layer of humanity buried beneath Martinaise, beneath Revachol, beneath every tile, every square centimeter. Ruby used the caves as a refuge. The coalition made them into the communist's tomb. Les petit rats in Le Royaume dive into the dangerous catacombs of the past over and over again to survive. Going underground is a refuge, a tomb, a return to the past.

[superman86to99]

Adventures of Superman #514 (July 1994)

"THE FALL OF METROPOLIS," Part 4! Metropolis is invaded by aliens! And werewolves! And Nazis! And Lois Lane dies! And Professor Hamilton loses a limb! Only one of these things ends up being true by the time the issue is over.

Metropolis is still in ruins after the explosive events of Action #700 (it's not like they can magically fix it from one issue to the next, right?) and on top of that, the city is now covered in so much fog that it's giving me Superman 64 flashbacks. But this is no regular fog: when some armed preppers walk through it, one of them suddenly hallucinates that his friends are alien invaders and kills them in a panic. Elsewhere, three soldiers are affected by the fog and start seeing everyone around them as "commies," the Viet Cong (so "commies" again), and werewolves (communist ones, presumably).

Superman stops a soldier from shooting a rabbi/imaginary werewolf, but the soldier sees him as a vampire while the rabbi thinks Superman is a Nazi (both solid Elseworlds premises).

While trying to contain all the people tripping balls around Metropolis, Superman runs into Lois, who's just chilling in the middle of the ruins. Just as Superman comments that he seems to be immune to whatever is making people hallucinate their worst fears, that trigger-happy prepper from before appears and shoots at them, thinking they're aliens (well, he's half right).

Superman just lets the bullets bounce off his chest... not noticing that one bounced in Lois' direction, fatally injuring her. NEXT: Reign of the Lois Lanes?!

Making matters worse, Ma and Pa Kent happen to stroll by, having seemingly traveled to war-torn Metropolis just to tell their son what a disappointment he is. Then Lex Luthor shows up too, with his luscious red locks inexplicably restored, and tells Superman none of this would have happened if he hadn't stolen Lois and Metropolis from him. Lex finally concedes that Metropolis is "Superman's city," but only because, as Superman just noticed, the city is full of nothing but corpses now.

Meanwhile, Professor Hamilton is having a tough time too: a prostitute has just shot him in the arm because she hallucinated that Hambone was her abusive pimp. Hamilton is rescued by a white-haired young lady who smacks the prostitute with a plank of wood. Ham and the girl jump into his car to escape the crazed crowd around them, but then he hallucinates his worst fear: not being able to operate a vehicle because the controls are too complicated.

"Also, I'm naked!"

The girl jump-starts the car's engine and they speed away from the crowd -- only to realize that being in a speeding car with someone who's hallucinating at the wheel isn't such a brilliant idea. They end up driving the car off a pier, and right before they do, we see that Ham happened to have a box full of something called "synthetic enzymes" on his back seat...

Back to Superman, he angrily flies into the sky with Luthor, who morphs into his old school bald self and goads Superman into killing him. Superman refuses to give in to hatred and delivers a speech about rebuilding a better, Lex-free Metropolis, causing Luthor to fade away, as does Lois' corpse. Right then, Hamilton and the white-haired girl come to tell Superman that they've figured out how to stop the hallucinations: no, not "facing and overcoming your deepest fears," but simply spreading that convenient "synthetic enzyme" throughout the city to negate the fog's effect.

(This is why I never leave the house without synthetic enzymes in my car since reading this issue.)

Superman makes the enzyme rain down over Metropolis and everything goes back to normal... except for Professor Hamilton who, to quote Arrested Development, is now "all right," because he lost his left arm. Superman and Hamilton figure out that the crazy fog was another one of Luthor's "fail-safes" in case he was ever defeated, like the killer robots that have been attacking Metropolis over the past weeks (Man of Steel #35 and Superman #91).

But there's still one fail-safe left, and it's a big one...

TO BE CONCLUDED!

Creator-Watch:

This month's issue of Adventures is guest-drawn by Peter Krause, who coincidentally also guest-drew Adventures and Superman exactly two years ago during the Agent Liberty two-parter. We'll see a little more Krause in the near future via another Adventures issue and the Metropolis S.C.U. miniseries… and maybe a LOT more in the not-so-near future if our plans to cover his Power of Shazam! ongoing series with Jerry Ordway in our newsletter come into fruition. (Don is a big fan and I've always been curious about it because 1) it's Ordway and 2) José "Gangbuster" Delgado is in it.)

Plotline-Watch:

The loss of Professor Hamilton's arm will be the longest-lasting consequence of Metropolis' destruction. (It will also be used to turn him into a villain after this era, but we won't be covering those issues and I'm glad.) I like that good ol' Ham is so absent-minded that he seems to have forgotten about his missing arm like five minutes after they amputated it. He also forgot that his hair is supposed to be grey, apparently.

There's a dark irony to Hamilton losing a limb after being shot by a prostitute, considering that Adventures #425, his second appearance, was about him kidnapping a "strumpet" at gunpoint out of desperation after Luthor stole his invention. He did his time and got his shit together after that, though.

Yes, Luthor's final fail-safe is the Awesome Kryptonian Battle Robot, which was built in ancient Krypton, sent to the Phantom Zone, ended up in the Fortress of Solitude (where Professor Hamilton used it to play tag with robots), and was most recently used by the powerless, recently resuscitated Superman to walk from Antactica to Metropolis during "Reign of the Supermen." I guess Superman sorta lost track of it after that, but to be fair he did have a lot on his mind at that point.

At S.T.A.R. Labs, Dr. Kitty "Rampage" Faulkner tells Superman that right before Project Cadmus was destroyed (as far everyone knows, anyway), they used some fantastic sci-fi technology called a "modem" to send S.T.A.R. their info on the cure to the Clone Plague. Despite Luthor being a dick in and out of Superman's hallucinations, Superman still makes sure he's delivered to S.T.A.R. at the end of the issue so they can apply the cure (though we already know he won't stay there for long).

"Mardis" up there is Dr. Jean Louis Mardis from the recent S.T.A.R. Corps miniseries, who is somehow still employed by S.T.A.R. despite trying to pass off alien tech as his own inventions, accidentally turning a bunch of regular people into superpowered freaks and nearly causing an AI to conquer the world. S.T.A.R., which has also employed Hamilton in the recent past, seems to be big on second opportunities.

As far as I can tell, that white-haired young lady who has a weird amount of protagonism in this issue Never Showed Up Again. [EDIT: k9feline reminded me in the comments that she DOES show up again, with her rock band! Shame on me.] Given the color of her hair, her surprising skill with machines, and the fact that she keeps calling Professor Hamilton "pops," I'm gonna assume she's supposed to be his secret lovechild (with a prostitute?).

Big Belly Burger sighting! "Eat 'em!"

Shout Outs-Watch:

Big belly shout outs to our supporters, Aaron, Chris “Ace” Hendrix, britneyspearsatemyshorts, Patrick D. Ryall, Bheki Latha, Mark Syp, Ryan Bush, Raphael Fischer, Kit, Sam, Bol, and Dave Shevlin! Join them (and get extra articles) via Patreon or our newsletter's "pay what you want" mode!

And now, stick around for The Don Sparrow Show:

Art-Watch (by @donsparrow):

We open with the cover, and it’s a pretty affecting one, a pieta style pose with a massive Superman mourning an apparently grievously injured Lois Lane.  Very emotional, and pretty restrained, in terms of '90s-excesses—in the hands of a lesser artist, the idea of Lois’ tattered clothes would be treated as titillating rather than sorrowful, so it’s an effective choice that Barry Kitson makes here.

The cover is all the Kitson we get, as the interiors are handled by Pete Krause, a terrific artist, and soon-to-be companion of Jerry Ordway on the excellent Power of Shazam! series.  Though I think his sharpest work is ahead of him, his pencils are solid throughout this issue, an interesting middle ground between the shadowy slickness of someone like Stuart Immonen (indeed, I don’t remember Krause ever looking so much like Immonen), and the pure linework of someone like Tom Grummett. The shot of Superman rescuing the old man is a great one.  Our introduction to Lois Lane in the story is also a cute panel, as Superman greets her with a (fairly wide) open mouth kiss.

The image of Professor Hamilton getting shot in the arm is something of a mixed bag—the expression of pain is great, but it also doesn’t actually show him getting shot (the drawing appears to indicate that he was only grazed by the bullet) but we later learn that the injury is so severe his arm must be amputated. [Max: I also got the impression that the injury wasn't so severe, but the girl does mention that Ham spent "hours" looking for Superman without getting medical attention, so that didn't help.]

The smoke is well used as a framing device for the dream sequences, as both the cause of the hallucinations, and a good way of demonstrating the dream like quality that feverish fantasy lends.  The panel of a majestic Lex II is particularly well done.

The best panel in the book might be on page 16, where an enraged Superman flies Lex II up up and away, and Lex’s roses fall to Earth, giving a real sense of height and motion. 

The pages where Superman puts Hamilton’s cure into action are great, as Superman soars into action, and creates a water spout to deliver the cure.

Finally, I always love seeing the Mignola-designed Kryptonian battle suit in action, and it’s an efficient piece of storytelling that Lex picked it up when it was just abandoned on the harbour in the "Reign of the Superman" storyline.

I’m not generally a fan of dream sequences as I often find them to be indulgent writing, and also inconsequential plotting—they rarely mean anything more than actual dreams do.  But this issue on the whole wasn’t as frustrating as some fever dream issues can be, as Karl Kesel deftly uses Superman’s nightmarish doubts to fuel action that did matter to the plot.

SPEEDING BULLETS:

Though the film is decades away, the alien infected soldiers from Jeff Scully’s chemically induced reverie look for all the world like the Orcs from the unrelentingly terribly 2017 movie from future terrible Superman writer Max Landis, Bright.

I can’t remember a time when a one-off character got so many name mentions as Jeff Scully, who gets identified no fewer than three times in the book.  I wonder if it was a buddy of Karl Kesel’s perhaps.  [Max: Since he's obsessed with aliens, I always took it as a little X-Files shout out.]

Then on the other end of the spectrum, we’re introduced to the lady in the headband who pulls a Thelma and Louise off a pier with Professor Hamilton, but in spite of having pages of dialogue, is never given a name, that I can find.

The “baker to alpha” soldier is a dead ringer for Pork Chop Hill era Gregory Peck, in my estimation.

I’m not entirely sure who I’d cast as Emil Hamilton, but in the final pages of this story, he looks a lot like Awakenings era Robin Williams to me.

I had forgotten exactly how Hamilton lost his arm, I just remember that he suddenly had a robot arm.  It’s a bit odd that a high tech character like him loses his arm to plain old gunfire.   

Am I alone in being confused why the toxin was able to affect Superman’s super-efficient system?  Though he needs to breathe, traditionally, he’d never show much vulnerability to gases in past stories. [Max: I guess it's possible that Lex intentionally designed it to be strong enough to affect Superman, and the military rejected it when they were like "uh, why does the budget include a $100 million 'Kryptonian respiratory system research' item...?"]

GODWATCH:  A very overt reference to the almighty from our Holocaust survivor elderly man, thanking both God and Superman for dispelling the fear toxin—complete with a literal and symbolic rainbow after the storm.

One wonders if Lex’s weaponized fear toxin was in any way based off of Batman villain Scarecrow’s concoction.  Seems like a missed opportunity, though it’s a pretty jam packed issue. 

[justforbooks]

Lily Ebert

Auschwitz survivor and writer determined to bear witness to the experience of all Holocaust victims

Lily Ebert, who has died aged 100, was one of the last survivors of the Auschwitz-Birkenau camp. She dedicated the final decades of her life to bearing witness to the experience of Holocaust victims.

She survived transportation to the camp where her mother, Nina, a younger sister Berta and brother Bela did not. They were singled out by the Auschwitz doctor Josef Mengele, the notorious “angel of death”, on the arrival of the train bringing them from Hungary.

Gesturing to the left with his stick, Mengele consigned half the family to the gas chambers, and Lily and her two sisters, René and Piri, to the right, to be put to work. Seeing smoke rising later from the crematorium chimney and thinking it was a factory, Lily was told by another inmate: “They are burning your families there. Your parents, your sisters, your brothers. They’re burning them.”

Her experience led decades later to talks to schools and colleges, to conferences, interviews and to collaborating with government ministries. When she was 96, she published a bestselling memoir, co-written with her great-grandson Dov Forman, called Lily’s Promise: How I survived Auschwitz and Found the Strength to Live. With Dov, again, she created a TikTok account, which gained 2 million followers.

She was born Livia Engelman, the eldest of six children of Ahron, a textile shop owner, and Nina (nee Bresnitz), in Bonyhád in south-western Hungary, a town divided between its German, Orthodox and Jewish inhabitants, with the latter making up 14% of the population.

Her father died when she was 18, and two years later, in March 1944, when German troops invaded the country, she and the rest of the family were rounded up with the town’s Jews. Within weeks they were all loaded on to cattle trucks for the five-day rail journey to Auschwitz, “locked in with corpses, a few more each day”, she recalled.

Her brother Imre had carved out a hollow in the heel of their mother’s shoe and hidden in it the family jewellery, including a tiny pendant of a golden angel that Lily had been given when she was five. In the late stages of the journey she and her mother swapped shoes. The hidden jewellery was missed by the Nazis and Lily retained the pendant. It was, she said, “the only gold to enter and leave Auschwitz with its original owner”.

The three sisters worked as seamstresses at the camp, during which time Lily nearly died of scarlet fever, before being moved four months later to another camp, Altenburg, part of Buchenwald, near Weimar. There they worked in a munitions factory, Lily managing to pass defective bullets with usable ones in her job as a supervisor. When her mother’s shoes disintegrated she hid the pendant in a piece of bread, which she kept under her armpit. For the rest of her life she always carried a morsel of bread as a reminder of her wartime deprivation.

In April 1945 the women at the factory were forced to march from the camp without food, water, sleep or shoes, with those who lagged behind summarily shot. On the third day the guards disappeared as American tanks approached. By then, Ebert said, they were “unrecognisable as human beings, emaciated creatures, filthy, hollow-eyed, half-crazed with relief and disbelief”. They were originally moved back to Buchenwald – staying in the guard quarters this time – and then to Switzerland for rehabilitation.

The sisters emigrated to Israel in June 1946, living first at a kibbutz and then near Tel Aviv. In 1948 Lily married a Hungarian businessman, Shmuel Ebert, and the couple had three children, Esti, Bilha and Roni.

After the Hungarian uprising in 1956 the family was reunited with Imre, who had also survived the Holocaust only to be trapped after the Communist takeover. In 1967 Lily and Shmuel moved to Golders Green, north London; he died in 1984.

Lily did not speak of her experiences until the 1990s, after joining a survivors’ support group. In 1992 she first addressed a Holocaust education conference and later helped found a survivors’ centre in Golders Green. The book, written with the then 16-year-old Dov, followed in 2021. “I realised that I wanted to record what had happened to me in Auschwitz-Birkenau. I wanted my children to know eventually and their children and their children’s children.”

She was awarded a British Empire Medal, was made a Knight’s Cross of the Order of Merit in Hungary, and an MBE last year.

Her portrait and those of six other survivors are in the Royal Collection. When she met the then Prince Charles at the exhibition opening at the Queen’s Gallery, Buckingham Palace, in 2022, she told him: “Meeting you, it is for everyone who lost their lives.” He replied: “But it is a greater privilege for me.”

After her death, the King – who is patron of the Holocaust Memorial Trust – said of Lily: “I am so proud that she found a home in Britain where she continued to tell the world of the atrocities she had witnessed, as a reminder for our generation – and for future generations – of the depths of depravity to which humankind can fall, when reason, compassion and truth are abandoned.”

She returned to visit the camp with Esti in 1988 and again with three grandchildren in 1996. She wrote: “The satisfaction of walking freely into Auschwitz and walking freely out again, through those gates of hell, made me stronger.

“When I was brought to Auschwitz in 1944 they told me there was no way out, only through the chimney. ‘This was not your plan,’ I kept thinking. ‘Look at me: I am back. You wanted to kill me and yet I am here again. You murderers aren’t here any more, but I am … I have kept the promise I made myself in the camp. I have told the world what happened.’”

She is survived by Piri, two of her three children, 10 grandchildren, 38 great-grandchildren and a great-great grandchild.

🔔 Lily Ebert, Holocaust survivor, writer and educator, born 29 December 1923; died 9 October 2024

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

[itscuntingseason]

Parts of my 2nd Disco Elysium playthrough that stood out to me (bc my first playthrough was very short)

Getting close to Cuno and taking down his dad (i hated interacting with Cuno during my first playthrough bc i just thought he was annoying);

Cuno seeming genuinely sad and betrayed when you choose to not give him the drugs;

The whole story with Billie Mejean (i came across the working class corpse during my first playthrough, but barely talked to billie. when she said her husband was missing, it clicked for me and my heart broke);

Kim (and Acele) asking you if you are okay after the ice cop hat interaction;

Lena holding onto the hope that cryptids are real because she believes her marriage wouldn't have worked otherwise;

Jean sounding genuinely excited when you say you might remember some stuff (i barely talked to him during my first time and it somehow didn't click for me that he was 'man in sunglasses');

Joyce giving you 100 réal if you ask really nicely;

Asking Lilienne out on a date with Kim next to you, and her asking Kim if he wants to come along (she was trying to have her Challengers moment);

GETTING THE HUGE SWORD;

Kim being worried about you when you speak to Joyce about the pale, alone;

Gaston confessing that he genuinely loved René after he died;

"Say one of these communist or fascist things or fuck off".

[coffieshiro]

"Angel without wings"

Based on: CountryHumans

Before you start reading, I want to warn you about the harmful scenes. If you are sensitive to graphic scenes, please do not read this.

࿔‧ ֶָ֢˚˖𐦍˖˚ֶָ֢ ‧࿔

tw: blood, disturbing scenes, mention of abuse, drastic, sadistic, amputation, cannibalism

࿔‧ ֶָ֢˚˖𐦍˖˚ֶָ֢ ‧࿔

The loud creak of the old wooden stairs echoed along the deserted basement walls. The wooden door leading to the depths of the basement banged open, making a distinctive grinding noise. There was little noise, one might think, until the sound of drops dripping from a pipe in the ceiling reached ears. The nostrils were filled with the smells of old wet soil and the fine fresh air that came through the small window located just below the ceiling. The cold that engulfed every corner of the basement would give goosebumps to anyone's body. Including the resident of a small basement... Rarely, who would like to live in such a hole as a basement? Hardly anyone. Poland, he knew very well the feeling of being chained to the same place for most of his time with no way to escape. Right at the beginning of the war, he isolated himself not on his own, but with the strength of two powerful countries. Unfortunately for him, he suffered the most damage. He sat like a corpse in the same place, watching the two men as they descended with a slow, almost rhythmic step. He stopped deliberating and looked at his elegantly polished shoes. And as his eyes slowly climbed upwards... He saw two very familiar faces. The Third Reich, together with the Soviet Union. Both of them had on their hands the blood shed in the war of innocent civilians, now living in slavery of a second life, because in this one they have nothing to look for. They had their earthly sins on their shoulders, which they had committed more than once, never being ashamed of themselves, showing the world their every single act, which was a terror for anyone who was afraid of death or suffering. The Reich leaned its face towards the face of Poland, baring its fangs shining in the moonlight. The moon turned out to be the only source... Until the Communist lit a small, miserable lamp. Reich nodded in thanks before clicking his tongue, tracing every bruise on the Pole's body with his eyes. He looked back at Poland's eyes, which were wide open. Reich couldn't hide his quiet, low chuckle.

— You're looking at me almost as if there was a ghost standing in my place... — the German cooed, his voice dry and rough. The Pole's mouth, although stained with blood and surrounded by scabs from a cracked lip, stretched into a wide smile... "Not even a ghost could do as many evil things as the Reich did in a whole year..." This thought ran through Poland's head. They rested on Poland's lips, waiting patiently to be avoided... Until he came up with something better.

— The revelation of the ghost instead of you would be like the revelation of Holy Mary in Faustina, that is, salvation... — He spoke in a rough, hoarse voice from exhaustion that echoed around the room, thickening in both of their heads. Well... The Reich couldn't allow such behavior. According to his rigorous discipline, insulting a victim and his rebellion meant reprehensibleness. Therefore, through him, the Pole had to bear the consequences for his empty words thrown at such a serious person of the German. And for every self-respecting Pole, rebellion against sophisticated opponents was advisable. So why would he hesitate to use such beautiful words against the rigorous person of the Reich? Soviet listened to the entire conversation in silence... He knew that integration between their conversation would be detrimental to both parties. Therefore, his eyes quickly turned to the Reich. The Nazi raised his hand high in an attack, using his hand against the Pole. Before the Communist could look around, Poland was pressed against the cold, numb wall, panting as a large, scarlet stain spread across his cheek. The German rubbed his hand, sighing with obvious advantage.

— Did you see that? He tried to talk back to me... Fucking blasphemer... Perhaps we have too little discipline... — Reich cursed under his breath, looking at the Soviet. Soviet only, without much commitment, for a change and to relieve the tense aura, lit a cigarette. He blew smoke from his mouth, sighing loudly.

— I told you that sooner or later he would start to rebel... You said that the more rigor, the less opposition, and there you go... Still not enough — His words evaporated from his mouth like a bitter afterthought. He quietly muttered under his breath, humming until his face was right next to the Pole's face, who was looking at him with furrowed eyebrows. The Russian blew a cloud of smoke into his face, causing the Pole to choke heavily. The Russian looked at Reich as he took another puff of smoke. Orders rested on the German's tongue, unable to wait to once again scold the Soviet for his carelessness... Until he noticed how intensely the Pole was choking on smoke. He liked it... That's why he looked back at the Russian.

— Do it again... — he gestured with his hand at the choking Pole. A mocking smile appeared on the Soviet man's lips, and with unconcealed pleasure he once again blew thick smoke from his mouth. Poland struggled to catch his breath for a long time, and the fact that the Russian cigarettes were intense, penetrated his throat, scratching him from the inside mercilessly. Tears came to Poland's eyes as he struggled to breathe and also fought for enough fresh air. But the more he tried, the worse he got at it. The smoke next to his face appeared continuously, making its way around to his throat, irritating him from the inside. Loud cackling filled the basement walls, intoxicating cigarette smoke filled the room, irritating even the Reich himself. There was no end to the laughter... Poland saw through the fog, his vision was affected as tears covered his eyes... Every now and then he was able to see the darkness that was caused by huge migraines...

࿔‧ ֶָ֢˚˖𐦍˖˚ֶָ֢ ‧࿔

Only after a few minutes was the room covered with a thick cloud of smoke ventilated through a small window. It was one of many things that turned out to be useful. Poland leaned his head against the wall, panting. Glistening tears ran down his thin cheeks, pooling under his chin. Eyes bloodshot to the last vein, making his eyes almost actually look naturally red. His voice was hissing with irritation, and his clothes, flimsy and dirty with blood, smelled only of disgusting Russian tobacco. He closed his eyes as his nostrils filled with the smell of fresh air... The conversation between the Russian and the German was honestly incomprehensible to him... He heard everything as if through water. Until... He felt a sharp pain branching out between his eyebrows, causing a loud scream from the Pole. He raised his bloodshot eyes to see the Soviet above him. With a broad smile, Soviet put out a cigarette on his eyebrow, pressing it as hard as he could. He listened with undisguised pleasure to the tearful gnashing of Poland's teeth as he shook his head. A burn mark remained on the eyebrow, turning it black mixed with blood.

— God... Don't panic... It's just a cigarette... — Soviet raised both eyebrows in amusement as he listened to the faint gnashing of teeth. He looked at Reich, who was baring his fangs in satisfaction. His rigorous desires were satisfied when a dying Poland appeared in his image. His punishment was meted out... But something was missing... Something he had wanted to do for a very long time... But he didn't know when or how... After all, he had a Soviet at hand now. Did this mean that his plan could be implemented? Of course... However, it was a plan he preferred to wait for another day. It required quick precision and caution. If his idea is interpreted correctly, everything will go as smoothly as he wants, or maybe even better? With a gesture of his hand, he ordered the Russian to leave the basement area. Well, the Soviet had no other choice, so he left the cellars in a hurry, leaving Reich with Poland. Reich followed his partner's steps, but just before he left, he turned to Poland, smiling carelessly.

— Do you believe in the existence of angels without wings? — his question was... well, unusual. Poland was stunned. Angels without wings? He wasn't entirely sure how tricky a question that was... He looked up, flapping his own wings. Pole's angelic wings, two meters long, spread out next to the wall, reflecting the moonlight. The flapping of wings only fueled the Reich's desire to implement his idea... Receiving no answer, he answered for him.

— That's what I thought... — He growled before leaving. The creak of the door closing tightly behind him rang out to Poland's ears. Poland mentally cursed himself for not being able to answer such a simple question. Angels without wings... Was it some kind of metaphor referring to simple people with good hearts? Well... It only seemed so to him. For the moment, however, he rested his head on his wings. Soft and warm to the touch, they were the only source of warmth on every cold night that voluntarily circled the entire room. He made himself comfortable. Even with his wrists and ankles tightly bound, he was able to get into a comfortable sleeping position. It was the only thing he could do, the only soothing thing. His eyelids drooped over his eyes, and the quiet wind lulled him to sleep. As if on command, Poland fell asleep, regardless of the difficult conditions to which he had become accustomed.

࿔‧ ֶָ֢˚˖𐦍˖˚ֶָ֢ ‧࿔

Today's waking up was much more brutal, as he received a rough blow below the chest, knocking him to the cold ground. Poland barely regained consciousness, and to his vision it turned out to be the Reich together with the Soviet. The sight didn't surprise him at all... Until he noticed one of the many things that terrified him... Bow saw. He saw every object in their hands, all of them were torturing him painfully. However, the bow saw was something completely new. Hence the fear. Terrified by his eyes, he looked for an answer, trying to break free from Soviet's strong grip. His wings began to flutter as if terrified, thanks to which he was somehow able to lift himself a few centimeters above the ground. Soviet gritted his teeth, grabbing him tightly, pinning him to the ground.

— Where the fuck are you going?! No matter, you stay here! And don't you fucking dare move even an inch, otherwise I'll crush your bones! — he warned through gritted teeth, holding Poland's wrists, painfully pinning them to the ground, almost as if he wanted to break and crush them. The Reich, via the Soviet, grabbed Poland by the wings, tugging at its feathers every time one move was able to poke him too hard. Before Poland knew it, the bow saw had sunk its sharp ends into the base of the wings. The room echoed with Poland's loud scream as he pulled his wing with all his might. It turned out to be as effective as anything. The saw dug harder until it was right next to the bone. Blood spattered towards the Reich, catching on the Pole's back. Soviet grabbed Poland tighter, tugging at his hair every time he moved too suddenly. Reich sawed until he could cut through the bone. He used all his strength, trying to inflict as much pain as possible to Poland's detriment. God rest the soul of Poland, screaming into the sky when its path crossed with these earthly monsters. Unfortunately for him, the torture lasted for centuries. The smell of blood filled the room, bit by bit, reaching the nostrils of all three of them. Blood splattered on the walls, leaving characteristic colors behind. Drop by drop, it slowly left the Polish wing. His worst fears came true when the Pole lost feeling in his right wing, leaving behind a sloppy, bloody mess. The amputated wing fell with a bang, and Reich bared his fangs at the mess he had created. The smell of blood turned out to be tempting enough for him... However, he had to put his cannibalistic desires on hold for later when Soviet began to grumble, putting his effort into pinning Poland to the floor.

— Reich, for God's sake, hurry up before he get away! — Soviet screamed, pinning Poland to the ground again. Poland responded by sobbing like a maniac, throwing himself all over the floor, trembling and writhing in the depths of pain. He bit into Soviet's shoe with his teeth, trying to hold back his consciousness, focusing on something else. The torture continued, no matter how hard he tried to inflict pain on himself, he couldn't distract himself from the macabre of his wings. Soviet made eye contact with the Pole while he was biting his shoe until his jaw gums started bleeding. The Soviet's eyes widened as if on command as he grabbed the Pole's hair, pulling him away from the unusual activity.

— What are you doing?! Have you lost your mind?! — he screamed, attracting the attention of Reich, who started sawing the next wing. Poland cursed in macabre, sobbing, choking on tears, digging his nails into the concrete floor. He kicked his legs, sobbing, his words falling from his lips like a prayer.

— IT HURTS...! IT HURTS SO HELL...! I'D RATHER DIE THAN EXPERIENCE THIS...! DO YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT IT'S LIKE TO BE CUTTED CUT...?! YOU UNDERSTAND...?! — he screamed as he kicked his legs, trying to distract himself from the painful ordeal. The communist widened his eyes and looked on in disbelief. He saw a lot, but no one else reacted to pain like Poland. He would beat himself up and hurt himself just to focus his consciousness on less pain than the one that gave him migraines. The Reich paid no attention to Poland's sobbing. They were almost everyday life for him, maybe even routine? More and more blood flowed. It flowed down to the floor, forming a small stream of blood, slowly resembling a river. The Pole's sobs were the single most active of all sounds. It spread so quickly that it could probably be heard from the next apartment. The red liquid that spread all over the back in small amounts was absorbed by the clothes, which did not bring any relief. The two main wings were sawed off... For the Reich it was two minutes, for Poland it was an eternity. There are still two smaller wings left... The cannibalistic hunger of the Reich was not tamed at all, as time passed it grew with unstoppable force. However, the Communist's constant remarks were distracting. So with a roll of his eyes, he continued cutting the next wings... Fortunately for the Pole, they were not as massive as the previous ones, so the amputation took less time than before. Almost as if his prayers had been answered and restored to the state he was in now. However, the red liquid flowed in the same stream as during and after the amputation. The cries stopped only fifteen minutes after the bloody macabre. Meanwhile, the Reich and the Soviet left Poland in a bloody mess, leaving him to inhale the heavy smell. His body lay still for a long time until another long sob escaped his lips. He sniffled, trembling in fear and desperation as he was deprived of the greatest gift his entire family could have received. Tears covered his stunned face, covering him in chaos. The quiet sobbing soon turned into brutal, loud screaming, hitting every wall. He used his raw elbows to support himself as he crawled towards the stairs, grabbing onto the wooden rungs, digging his nails into them. He shuddered in bitterness, screaming loudly at the top of his lungs.

— YOU HAD NO RIGHT TO TAKE MY PROPERTY...! - He sobbed, letting out loud grunts of despair. He continued again.

࿔‧ ֶָ֢˚˖𐦍˖˚ֶָ֢ ‧࿔

— THIS WAS THE LAST THING I COULD HAVE...! — He sniffled, digging his nails into the cracks in the rungs. He put his head on the surface. In his own bitterness he found something more... Not only sadness. He felt how deep inside him, everything that held any hope was shattered. It broke into small pieces, leaving behind painful wounds. However, every wound leaves a scar as the wound heals slowly. But what will be able to heal Poland, healing his wounds?

Poland undoubtedly recalled the Reich's previous question... He actually understood what he meant... He was the one who became an angel without wings