#creative resistance

[padawan-historian]

“Write down! I am an Arab You have stolen the orchards of my ancestors And the land which I cultivated Along with my children And you left nothing for us Except for these rocks … So will the State take them As it has been said?!” – Identity card, Mahmoud Darwish

[bastardlybonkers]

i dont actually think hes blond

[selfryed]

*gets football tackled and called a nerd and probably gets shoved into a locker*

oooo shinyyyyy

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

Grian: “…Eyelash.” Carlos: “Thanks man. Make a wish.” Grian: “I just blew it.” Carlos: “Does it count if you make it?” Grian: “There was actually two so you can have one of my wishes. We wish for the same thing most of the time.” Carlos: “We do.” Fontaines D.C. on Dogrel, 2019 Mercury Prize

[pocketgalaxies]

[thegracefulwillow]

head empty just noe

[themonotonysyndrome]

Cutie would like to believe they're a good person.

But they're great when it comes to thinking outside of the box.

"Happy birthday, sweetie! Everyone has been so excited to celebrate when you manifested your magic last month! Your Dad can't wait to teach you his Earth tricks - did... did you just speak in my head?"

"Oh hey! Nah, you're alright; class hasn't start yet. Are you a new student? Cool! I'm a Freelancer. You? ...Oh."

" - so lame, though. All they can do is read the other team's minds. Yeah, but what's good about gathering intel when they need consent before digging into our opponents' brains? I'm not saying they're useless - "

"Unfortunately, the Department isn't looking to hire any new Investigator at this moment with your particular skillset. But don't worry, you'll be the first person I'll call when we have an open position."

Creativity is the spice of life. Or, in Cutie's perspective, an edge that made a mundane Telepath... not so mundane.

A Telepath reads minds, but who says they can't be more?

Who to say a Telepath can't command the heart - an organ that pumps life within the body - to stop beating?

Who says a Telepath can't whisper random words that condition the brain into transforming a person into someone else entirely?

Who to say a Telepath can't plant false memories just like a De(a)mon could?

Who to say a Telepath can't become the government's prized interrogator and something akin to Nick Fury of the Empowered world?

Morality be damned when you're damn good at what you do.

But whenever Cutie was with Geordi, they were never good or great -

They were happy and oh, look at that. It's been so long since Cutie could remember they were genuinely happy ever since they got their magic. Eyes quickly averted and hardly a second glance whenever they're around family and friends after all.

But Geordi is an Unempowered human. Geordi isn't like those the Department threw at them.

Cutie isn't good but they're great.

...

Why isn't that enough anymore?

[the960writers]

Chuck Wendig, December 5, 2024:

[...] I think things are bad. I think they are dire. I am scared and worried for a lot of people and for the very country in which I live. While I don’t know that the times are precisely unprecedented, I think they are a truly absurd version of past events, reskinned and freshly costumed.

[...]

Point is, I hear you, and I feel it myself. How do we persist in the midst of this nonsense? There’s a distinct swimming upstream feeling, except it’s not just a stream, it’s run-off from a sewage processing plant. It feels difficult to make art, to tell stories, to not be distracted by all the awfulness, to feel like it matters at all, and normally I’d come at this with a kind of… high-minded approach, some advice that’s about, well, okay, art is resistance, storytelling can change the world, and the world needs you and your art and —

And that’s all true but I’m just not there. That’s not my headspace.

Maybe it’s not your headspace, either.

[...]

[violets-emotionalbreakdown]

Something important for us all to remember is that we've had 3 years to make these characters our own, to internalize them. Fanon is not canon. My Vi is not your Vi is not my mutual's Vi. My Caitlyn is not your Caitlyn. My Jinx is not your Jinx.

We've had 3 years for them to grow and change, to identify with them and project on them, to mold them into what we need them to be.

We've had 3 years with an amazing starting point where we could veer off in so many different directions, not constrained by knowing what comes next.

We're about to know what comes next. All those possibilities, those dreams for what we wanted, are going to be unequivocally canon divergent (except for every fic writer who called Vi being a street/pit fighter, they get to be smug as hell).

There is only one canon.

I've fallen prey to this before, where after a long gap and making a character mine, she didn't react in the new canon to things like my version of her would have. That's ok. It doesn't make it bad storytelling on the actual writer's part. That doesn't make it out of character.

You get me? It doesn't make it bad or ooc if the characters in the new season aren't the way you predicted or want them to be. You will have time afterward to incorporate the new information, possibly re-evaluate your view of them, and make them your own again. (For good this time, bc it's the last season.)

So just watch and let things play out and let them settle before you get upset, ok?

[observerkaine]

Day 26: Groups and Collabs (Horse Head Farms)

[bigskydreaming]

Fandoms’ general aversion to criticism - especially in regards to fanfic - plays a huge role in stagnating fandoms and keeps them locked into the same specific tropes and takes on an infinitely repeating loop. And there absolutely is something to be said for the appeal of familiarity and comfort takes/tropes/fics but there’s a difference between fandoms having an abundance of those things on hand AVAILABLE for fans to enjoy and LIMITING fandoms to those things by virtue of condemning, shaming and silencing any attempt to build on the initial presentations of these things with criticism aimed at addressing flaws that are inevitably present because flawed takes are inevitable.

But nah, fanfic has to be upheld as sacrosanct and above criticism by mere virtue of ‘fans created it and if we accept that fans are just as likely to create flawed narratives as professionals then what will fans use to feel superior to the professionals they critique or deride’ - and so not only do the most popular initial takes and fics created by a fandom then get endlessly replicated over and over….the flaws present in those initial takes and fics get equally replicated over and over until they’re completely baked in and pervade every ‘new’ creation that actually ends up following, all because nobody was willing to be open to hearing what was executed poorly the first time around.

And let’s not even get started on the general unwillingness to interrogate the why’s of fandoms limiting themselves to just the same handful of generally accepted takes over and over instead of aiming for an ever expanding range of complex and nuanced takes, because so many fans pride themselves on backing the ‘right’ fandom horses/takes, and the more variety there are the less likely it is that you the individual fan will end up in a group generally recognized as falling into the ‘these particular fans were right about the characters/narratives/themes’ camp….

BUT I DIGRESS.

[skyfullofpods]

I've been struggling to find the words these last few days, and even what I've managed to put together feels insufficient. I recognise that I'm coming from a place of privilege, as a white person from a Western country outside of the US, but I wanted to share my thoughts about the importance of creating and of finding joy, even when everything seems hopeless.

Stories are important. Especially when they are stories by and featuring marginalised people. They provide representation, acceptance and celebration that people may not find otherwise in their lives. They're not just escapism - even though that aspect may be particularly useful now. Stories enrich our lives, give us the opportunity to get to know other people, and allow us to feel a range of emotions beyond the monotony of everyday life. Fiction podcasts gave me a space where I belonged, even when the outside world was - and still is - hostile.

On a personal level, my blog has always been about finding joy when life has continued to be hard. Audio drama to me is about striving against adversity, about hope, about resistance. I've always taken a positive, optimistic approach in what I write, focusing on what makes me happy. And for me, that's how I want to continue going ahead for the next few weeks and months; while appreciating that finding such positivity is not going to be as easy for others.

That said, if you are able to, please keep telling your stories and using your voices. It's more important now than ever to bring representation, joy, and hope to others out there who are also struggling. And thank you to all you audio drama creators, writers, voice actors, directors, producers, sound designers, everyone out there who has brought sunshine to my life these past few years, and shared their stories, skills, and voices with the world. It's a much better and richer place because of you.

[skierisa]

well, I WASN'T gonna draw all of them... but here i am, just missing cole and zane

if i hate myself enough, i'll draw pix and skylor too

possibly morro and harumi as well

[fandomfreakstudios]

You know that fun thing that some authors will do where they make their ocs or boobs get a chance to talk to a past version of themselves? Well I just thought about doing that with Bojack and this just kind of fell out of me.

The two men would look at each other from across the room. Neither would question where they were or why they were there, they didn’t exactly have the attention to spare for that.

Bojack Then looked at an unfamiliar mirror of himself. Older, a bit greyer, steadying himself with a cane and a slight limp. He looked tired, and slightly worn, but he had a certain light in his eyes that Bojack Then simply lacked.

Bojack Now looked at his counterpart, and he saw someone he hated more deeply than he could ever properly express.

For a moment he ignored the younger man, who was standing somewhat awkwardly to the side, well aware he was being scrutinized by the one person who probably knew him better than anyone. But he ignored Bojack Then, sitting down on the nearest couch with a grunt, resting his cane across his lap, and sighing in relief.

“Damn, what happened to us?” Bojack Then asked with a chuckle, although there was a bit of concern etched in his voice, as would anyone who believes their future may consist of chronic pain.

“Your idiotic ass got in a car crash on purpose so you could get more opioids”

“yeah that… that sounds about right” he chuckled dryly

they settled back into a deep, uncomfortable silence, Bojack Now regaining his scrutinizing glare.

Bojack Then shifted his feet uncomfortably, feeling oddly like his child self being scrutinized by his parents… but the man across from him probably knew that feeling too. The man across from him probably understood everything he was feeling and more.

Bojack Then would hesitantly spoke up “so… what’s our life like now?”

“It’s nice. It’s rather quiet, peaceful. I’m married now, I moved up north to a rather quiet area, all that “fresh start” nonsense. I bake, I garden, I knit, old people shit” he said rather bluntly.

The younger man listened intently, nodding along. That sounded… amazing. Like something he would hallucinate himself living while having a GOOD trip, but it was actually reality. He was alive and enjoying retirement. That’s good….. right?

The younger man chuckled… “so… uhh… is this the part where you give me all sorts of life saving advice and tell me the secret to turning my life around..?”

The older man looked him up and down, and chuckled softly, a wry smile on his face. “Typical”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You just want some magical answer, huh? some sort of perfect solution that’ll make everything easy for you without putting in any real work, don’t you?”

“that’s not what I-”

“i don’t like you. I don’t like anything about you. It’s you that makes my life as hard as it is right now. It’s your influence that makes me struggle every day to maintain what i’ve built. You really think I have some sort of advice, or encouragement, that you haven’t ignored from other people a million times before? From Diane? From Princess Carolyn? Fuck you”

Bojack Then was taken aback for a moment, before he chuckled dryly. “You really ARE an asshole, seems we haven’t changed a bit, huh?”

“Don’t you dare compare yourself to me. You don’t know me, you couldn’t possibly comprehend what my life is like now,” He growled “You are the cause of all of your… no, all of OUR problems. I spend every day of my life trying to pick up the pieces of the stupid mess your idiocy left behind”

As Bojack Then was stunned into silence, Bojack Now managed to pull himself upright, balancing on his cane once again. He turned to the door, but hesitated in stepping towards it.

He paused, turning to the younger man, a wry smile on his face. “You know… I do have one thing I could tell you, without feeling like it’s a total waste of time.”

“what’s… what’s that?”

Bojack Now chuckled, taking a slow step towards the door. He rested his free hand on the handle and looked over his shoulder.

Before he stepped out of the room he said only one more thing.

“We’re gay”

[thirdity]

Camp does not ask permission. It marches to the beat of its own drum. You are king — or queen — of this particular stretch of sidewalk, simply because you woke up this morning and decided that it should be so. In such walks we spy resistance, defiance, joy.

Zadie Smith, "Mark Bradford's Niagara"