#diseased pariah news

[ali-ali-al1]

Doing my EPQ (extended project qualification, UK thing) about queer history is great, apart from the fact that every time I try and sit down to research I end up on the verge of tears

Big Feelings Babey 👍

[placegrenette]

Longing for Dick and Laughing at Death: The Story of Diseased Pariah News

All right, Tumblr, gather round. This is not my usual style here, and I have missed World AIDS Day by a number of days, but I searched for “Diseased Pariah News” on this nonsense site and got all of two coherent hits, and that does not sit right with me. So let me tell y’all a story of black humor, porn, a pre-venture-capital-overrun Bay Area, lovingly photographed penises, recipe testing, friendship, and death. It’s all true but I wasn’t there; sources are linked throughout and compiled at the end.

Cover of Issue #3. This and all illustrations courtesy of the GLBT Historical Society and Calisphere, the online archives of the University of California. Support your librarians and archivists, kids!

“It’s My Party and I’ll Die If I Want To”

The short version of the story is: Diseased Pariah News was a zine that ran for eleven issues, all published between 1990 and 1999. It was edited almost completely by, and addressed pretty much exclusively to, PWAs, or People With AIDS.

To remind you whippersnappers: to know you were HIV positive in 1990 was to know that you were going to die a lot sooner than average, and probably not peacefully. As Jonathan Kauffman wrote in “Get Fat, Don’t Die,” a 2020 Hazlitt essay on DPN: “So many of the narratives of the time circled around two themes: memorializing the terror and adulterated sweetness of being alive as everyone they knew was dying, and shearing through the cordon of dehumanizing indifference that the public had erected around plague-struck communities. The experience of daily diarrhea or constant nausea may have been too visceral, too private, or simply too grinding to fit into the arc of a plot.” The diarrhea could go on for months, by the way. And that was separate from debilitating fatigue, potential blindness (from CMV retinitis), or constant prickly pain in your hands and feet (from peripheral neuropathy).

This was years before the development of protease inhibitors and “the cocktail” could prevent HIV-positive patients from developing full-blown AIDS; AZT could slow things down, but it came with nasty side effects. AIDS was not like the tuberculosis, or rather like the romantic conception of tuberculosis, in which one’s dying status could be signaled by paleness and the occasional discreet cough. AIDS was painful, and complicated.

So somebody had to have a sense of humor about all this.

Co-founder, original Serene Editor, and the guy who gets the credit for having the idea in the first place, Tom Shearer

Tom Shearer was a computer hardware engineer living in San Francisco, running a zine on the side called GAWK (it stood for Gay Artists and Writers Kollective) when a reader named Beowulf Thorne (more on him later) complained that GAWK looked terrible. Shearer challenged Thorne to do better; Thorne rose to the challenge; one thing led to another and the pair ended up collaborating on a whole new zine, this one focused on the experience of dealing with AIDS. Shearer got the title from an Advocate comic in which a flight attendant asked a passenger: “Would you like the smoking, non-smoking, or diseased pariah section?” (This was during a time when airlines not only had smoking sections but were occasionally refusing outright to transport PWAs.)

From the very beginning, Diseased Pariah News was meant to be funny, helpful, and obsessed with dick. Page 3 of the first issue lists a number of practical steps PWAs can take (“Call Pac Bell for low income phone rates”). There was also a Resources page, dedicated to advocacy groups, support groups, even mail-order pharmacies easy to work with, anyone whom the editors judged would treat PWAs fairly and not waste their time. In between those two was the debut of the column, “Get Fat, Don’t Die!,” dedicated to high-calorie recipes specifically designed to combat wasting disease, illustrated by a naked man in a come-hither pose; the debut of the column “Porn Potato,” which reviewed porn videos while keeping a much better sense of narrative than its subjects; a short-short story titled “I Fisted Jesse Helms”; and a contest to guess Shearer’s T-cell count. (Not included yet was the centerfold feature, which would include the model’s history of infections and T-cell count alongside his full-frontal glory; that would come in later issues.)

Shearer died in April 1991, as the second issue of DPN was going to press. (”Thanks to Mike for guessing optimistically high,” ran the conclusion to the T-cell count contest.) Issue #3 starts with Thorne recounting the aftermath of his death, including a visit to “Akbar and Jeff’s Cremation Hut,” and then, contemplating taking over DPN by himself, allowing himself a rare show of mourning:

Seriously though, the reality of Tommy's death isn't funny. But then, neither is it funny that the first President to preside over the age of AIDS couldn't make himself say the name of the syndrome. Or that a septuagenarian senator would obstruct prevention programs because he would rather see his nation's children die than "promote deviant sexual behavior" (all the while forcing us to endure tobacco subsidies and its retinue of smoking related deaths). Or...well, you know enough about this yourself, you fill in the blanks. What can I say about this situation? You can either laugh or cry, but crying gives you crow's feet.

Fortunately Thorne wasn’t alone for the rest of the ride: as “Cranky Editor,” he was joined by Tom Ace, christened “Humpy Editor,” and Michael Botkin, who already had a reputation around the Bay Area as a suffering-no-fools journalist and critic, as “Sleazy Editor.” DPN had found an eager audience to begin with--Shearer and Thorne had to double back to the printer when the first print run of the first issue sold out--but at its peak it had a circulation of 5,000 and could be bought in dozens of bookstores across multiple countries. The guys were dedicated and passionate without being self-important, and it showed.

Left to right: Sleazy, Cranky, and Humpy, in an undated photo (1994?), for a DPN Christmas card.

All eleven issues have been archived and can be read in PDF form courtesy of the Gay and Lesbian Historical Society and the University of California’s online archiving efforts. Highlights include “AIDS Barbie,” in #8; an interview with playwright and ACT UP co-founder Larry Kramer in #9; Thorne’s evisceration of And the Band Played On author Randy Shilts (who had himself just died of AIDS) also in #9; and the Opportunistic Infection Merit Badges (OIMBs), introduced by Botkin in #10:

The outcome will be an array of badges and ribbons which tell the educated viewer, at a glance, just how progressed your HIV disease is. It will be particularly useful for health care providers, who instead of taking lengthy histories will instead be able to briefly study a PWA's array of service ribbons, badges, etc.... a careful study of my OIMBs would quickly reveal my obscenely low T-cell count (17 at last testing), the fact that I've had PCP, peripheral neuropathy, MAC, wasting syndrome, cryptococcal meningitis, and herpes, and that I've taken every nucleoside analogue known to man. This would allow those who want to fawn over or avoid me to act accordingly, and avoid the frustration of mistaken acquaintanceship.

I can’t speak for you, but the badges were what stuck in my mind: humor black enough to communicate the bleakness of its source. It’s funny how history can seem incommunicable. Odds are you reading this are young enough that if I try to tell you what it felt like to look down Lexington Avenue on the afternoon of September 11, 2001, and see a great column of smoke and no cars, you can place the reference but probably not the devastation. People dealing with the aftereffects of COVID now are having a hard time gaining empathy for what it feels like to have their body betray them; the distance of a couple decades or so is not going to help. To take history at all seriously is to admit that the various horrors of the past are ungraspable. But the badges allow you a glimpse of what it was like to live in the midst of this particular horror.

Which is not to say that the DPN guys were particularly concerned with history. Hamilton-style musings about legacies would have left them cold. History had, in a sense, been stolen from them, and so they were going to embrace the present they had left. Especially Thorne, who would be the guiding force behind DPN for the rest of its run.

The Story-within-a-Story of Beowulf “Biffy Mae” Thorne, Writer, Editor, Graphic Designer, Illustrator, Cartoonist, Recipe-Tester, Critic, Know-It-All, and Horndog Extraordinaire

and also, a babe. I don't care what your gender/sexuality combination is, you would've been at risk of doing some pining.

Beowulf Thorne--no, that wasn’t his birth name, but it seems to have been the name he used exclusively during DPN’s run, so that’s what we’ll stick with--was born in 1964 and grew up in southern California, but fled to the Bay Area in 1983. I saw one source say he tested HIV-positive as early as 1986, which is to say before the term “HIV” was even in widespread use. Suffice to say, dude had to start contemplating his mortality far, far earlier than he should have. He was enrolled at UC-Santa Cruz for a while, studying biology, but that whole contemplating-his-mortality part led him eventually to focus on graphic design and advocacy: first with various condom-promoting organizations, such as the Condom Resource Center in Oakland, and then DPN.

If he hadn’t been doomed, Thorne probably would’ve been one of those guys resented by his acquaintances, just for the sheer number of things he was good at. He was not only DPN’s chief writer and editor but its layout artist and the designer of its related merchandise (not to mention the OIMBs). While working as a graphic designer for Addison-Wesley, he would occasionally piss textbook authors off by pointing out errors in their text, even though he wasn’t supposed to be factchecking: he just couldn’t help it. He did full-page, multi-panel “Captain Condom” comics for several DPN issues; that takes some time and effort now, never mind with Adobe Illustrator as it was three decades ago. He tested all of the “Get Fat, Don’t Die!” recipes. He was a gardener who specialized in orchids, cacti, and meat-eating plants, and beautifully detailed plant sketches are scattered in his collected papers.

1994 version of the Condom Educator's Guide, co-written by Thorne and Daniel Bao (who would later work on DPN issues) and designed by Thorne on "his trusty Macintosh."

And he could write. Reading him, you’d never guess the man wasn’t a trained writer, or is now twenty-three years dead: his voice is unstoppable. I’m not the type who laughs out loud at books easily, and while reading the DPN back issues, I found myself giggling repeatedly at the turns of phrase in Thorne’s porn reviews.

Oh, yeah: he also was Porn Potato. And just generally an unabashed horndog. He and Ace met when Ace saw Thorne’s personal ad: “Relatively stable 25-year-old design student seeks other adventurous good-looking men for mutual sodomy and oral copulation.” When a POZ writer asked Thorne about this in 1997, Thorne--who by this point was dealing with neuropathy and killer candida that ate his gums down to the bone--said cheerfully of Ace: “He’s quite buxom. I’ve always had a letch on him.” If Thorne and DPN stood for anything, it was the conviction that an AIDS diagnosis could not take away the right and responsibility to live, and living included being sexual.

But You Already Know the End of the Story

The hardest issue of DPN to read is the eleventh and last one, which came out in 1999, three years after #10. “In the eternity since DPN #10 appeared,” ran a note under the masthead, “66.67% of the editorial staff expired.” Botkin had died in 1996; that left Thorne and Tom Ace. By this point there was a new set of treatments available, but they worked a lot better if you hadn’t already been fighting HIV (plus the side effects of AZT) for over a decade.

One of the last DPN pieces Thorne wrote was on viatication, the practice of selling your life-insurance policy to be able to collect cash while you’re still alive. His health was failing pretty fast at that point--another of the last pieces is about CMV retinitis blinding him--but the article is practical, funny, and devoid of self-pity. It will break your heart nonetheless.

Deciding to viaticate my policy started with some soulful contemplation. The first thing I had to face was my own impending mortality. It was as though signing the paperwork obliged me to kick the bucket on some kind of schedule. For an obsessive taskmaster such as myself, there were some control issues....

Finally, there's a little roulette. The closer to death's door you are—on an actuarial basis—the more moolah you get. You don't want to cash in too early for a measly 50% (two-year life expectancy). On the other hand, if you wait for that 80% jackpot (six-month life expectancy), you might croak before you can enjoy it all. I was feeling pretty grim at that point, so the time seemed right.*

* For all you voyeuristic sickies, It was necrotic periodontitis.

He died on May 8, 1999. Reportedly his friends tried and failed to create a snowglobe with some of his ashes and Astroglide lube.

Tom Ace, miraculously, is still in possession of his mortal coil, or at least was as of 2010, when Vice interviewed him. Kauffman was able to talk to several of Thorne’s friends for his 2020 Hazlitt article. Beyond that I didn’t find a lot of easily accessible information about DPN’s survivors, either editors or readers.

Why Remember Diseased Pariah News

It’s not for everyone, I’ll grant you that. It never was. Even setting aside the sharp (necessary) line it drew between PWAs and HIV-negative onlookers, it was very much a product of a small, dedicated group with its own goals. If you are not a white gay cis man, you were not going to feel seen, as the modern saying goes, reading DPN. And if you don’t draw as strong a link between sex and vitality as its editors did, the repeated explicit celebration of dick might well put you off.

It’s still worth remembering, and celebrating. DPN is the kind of work that’s not easy to preserve. There were thousands and thousands of zines in the 1990s, and we’ve got no hope of learning from all of them, or even a good percentage of them. Eventually the people who can remember getting zines in the mail (my husband still sometimes uses the term “trib,” short for “minimum acceptable contribution”) will be gone. Our ability to communicate has expanded so much in the last three decades that it’s hard to archive and learn from all that communication--think of all the lost MySpace and Geocities pages, bulletin boards, emails. Preservation will be by definition selective, and later generations’ sense of what was actually happening thereby skewed, but we ought to preserve what we can.

But also: these guys were trying to bring laughs, help, and comfort to a vulnerable population, and in 2022 we like to think we approve of that kind of thing. Meanwhile they themselves were vulnerable, far more so than they should have been, and they recognized the unfairness of their situation but they did not whine. They were brave in the face of death, which is hard, and physical pain and the deterioration of the body, which is even harder. And we still in these supposedly enlightened times don’t have a good mechanism for thinking of campy gay men as brave. They weren’t looking to be remembered. We should remember anyway.

Sources

All the back issues of DPN are archived on Calisphere, the archives of the University of California, with Beowulf Thorne’s papers. Direct links: #1 (1990), #2 (1991), #3 (1991), #4 (1991), #5 (1992), #6 (1992), #7 (1992), #8 (1993), #9 (1994), #10 (1996), #11 (1999). Some of the information comes from this collection of contemporary articles Thorne clipped.

Tom Ace, “Thorne on Our Side,” POZ, August 1, 1999

Mark Allen, “That’s Not Funny, Or Is It?,” Vice, December 31, 2010

Jonathan Kauffman, “Get Fat, Don’t Die,” Hazlitt, April 28, 2020

Greg Lugliani, “Last Laughs,” POZ, October 1, 1997

[evilminji]

(O.O ) The PONDERING is back!

You know Walker?

One of the Zone's literal ACAB? We are shown in one episode, that real world items? Against The Rules(tm).

Now, that COULD just be HIM being An Asshole? But let's be real! Unlikely. Rules/Laws get made for a REASON, generally. Usually because someone ruined it for everyone by being an asshole. Taking things too far.

You start OUT with the obvious Rules. Like "Don't Tear the Zone Apart." And "No Genocide of Literally Everything Forever You Fighty Little Assholes" but over time? You have too add stuff. Like "George is Forbidden to use the fax machine and he knows why" and "Ice Lairs and Fire Lairs have to be X distance apart AND YOU KNOW WHY"

And? IS there a central Governing body, regulating the Zone Rules? Nope! Pariah's in nappy time! BUT the manic, Iron fisted, Obsessions of THE LAW across time and space are sure willing to step up and help keep order. It... KINDA works!

And they MOSTLY have the same-ish Rules!

Like NO FUCKIN LIVING WORLD STUFF. Because? To GET such contraband? You'd have to break containment of the Zone, go THROUGH a random ass natural portal, that may or may NOT be safe, may or may NOT ever RECONNECT to the Zone, to literally terrorize the unsuspecting living souls (assuming you can FIND any), on the other side, JUST to drag that shitty candy bar back home.

Leaking ectoplasm the whole time. Poisoning the air, land, and sea. Making NEW ghosts where there might not have been any. Effectively making you their deadbeat parent. Which is premeditated child abandonment. And you DEFINITELY didn't PAY for those objects. Thief.

So, NO. No Living World Shit.

BUT!

Like city states! The Area of influence each Law Man(tm) has? While wide and sprawling? Does NOT perfectly mesh together like puzzle pieces! There ARE dead zones. Lawless, "unclaimed" areas.

Which? Are not so unclaimed.

For just as The Law has it's Obsession? So too, has the Underworld. Shaddy casinos and auctions. Black markets run like street fairs. What some Ghost Weed? They can hook you up, man. Vinnie over there was a Runner during Prohibition. He knows where ALL the classy joints are.

He can hook you up with some REAL nice Living World collectibles.

From All Over.

And? I bet it's that LAST bit? That REALLY sparks Danny's interest. He saved the guy from the GIW, who may or may not have busted him trying to... uuuuh... LIBERATE, some fine scotch for the bar back Zone side. Who's to say, really? Regardless, Vinnie? Pays his debts, you here.

Beside... the feral little gremlin kinda scares him. Good quality to have, no question, but maybe cool it with the biting? You don't know where they BEEN. You'll get a disease.

Now... all you gotta do, see, is... *mutters* *map scribbling* *bad idea enabling*

Which? Constantine! League Members of your choosing! Like a field trip from hell! Some how in the SINGLE shadiest den of Obvious Criminals you ever did see. The sky is green and they aren't in their dimension anymore. Circle up! NOW. Young Justice shoved to the INSIDE of the circle, adult heros on the outside.

Constantine? Knows where they are and wishs he didn't. He... he's not sure he CAN get them back. Going to try obviously. But no one panic. Don't show fear. DON'T TOUCH ANYTHING. Start walking.

Danny? Loading up the speeder~ Christmas gifts for daaaays~~☆ Everyone is Salty but respectful, cause anti-ghost tech meant they couldn't steal it. They did TRY. But... fair play, kid. Nice ride.

Only? Right before he gets in to leave? Some vibrating blur shoots over? Talking fast and followed by an older blur? Oh hey, humans. Like... ALIVE humans. Sup?

@the-witchhunter @hdgnj @nerdpoe @hypewinter @mutable-manifestation

[vladdyissues]

Wow. Thanks for a comprehensive answer about "Danny meets Vlad in college". I absolutely like the idea of ceremony! The cool first meeting! And as you like the AU, I would share some my thoughts: • Several months before Danny went to the Wisconsin college his parents finally share their memories from that period. It was obvious to Danny that at least the part of the college personal will be ignorant to him for his last name, so, Danny would try not to say it in Wisconsin until someone ask. "Who are you?" - "I'm Danny. Just Danny" • According to the last paragraph, It'd be easier to both halfas see each other appealing, maybe, sexy. No parallels to Vlad with The idiot who sent him to the hospital for several years. No about-relatives stuff (we all see parents' friend as a native uncle/aunt). • When after several years of relationship with Vlad Danny finally decide to introduce him to the family, there was a pure shock on faces of all trio (Vlad, Jack and Maddie). "Danny, why didn't you tell me your parents are Jack Fenton and Maddie [her maiden name]?!" // "Danny, why didn't you tell us your boyfriend is Vlad Masters?!" • Plasmius and Phantom explore the Ghost Zone together. At one trip like that Plasmius got hurt badly in the attempt to defence Phantom. His ecto-acne comes back to the weakened body. Danny sent him to the Wisconsin hospital where the old doctor recognizes the patient and the disease. He tells Danny the truth: Vlad had ecto-acne before, he wouldn't survive this time and they don't know how to cure him. Jack and Maddie are the last hope of Danny. The young halfa beg them to help Vlad. The "Masters of all times" stuff next. This is a good chance to the trio to get along again. (Or it is even better way to introduce Vlad to his parents?) But what I don't know at all: what powers Danny would develop to his 19/20 y. without Vlad? Like would he ever try to duplicate without him or other stuff?

Excellent thoughts! I especially like that last one with Plasmius getting hurt and Danny having to go to his parents to save him. ("Please, Dad, I love him!" Lots of great hurt/comfort moments and an opportunity to repair the broken College Trio at long last.

As for Danny's powers, I can only speculate. (It's funny how much of an inspiration Vlad was to Danny in the canon timeline, even as his arch-nemesis. If it hadn't been for him, Danny might not have ever learned how to duplicate himself, and therefore would never have had the means to defeat Pariah Dark 😮) But I think Vlad in this AU would have plenty of time to teach Danny some new and very useful techniques... 😏

[empirearchives]

Napoleon and Water

Excerpt from the book Aaron Burr in Exile: A Pariah in Paris, 1810-1811, by Jane Merrill and John Endicott

Aaron Burr lived in Paris for 15 months, and this book goes into detail about those years living under Napoleon’s rule. This part focuses on Napoleon’s water related reforms.

———

Napoleon’s fountains gave drinking water to the population, that is, children drank water, not beer. The water was free, not purchased. And the apartment would have had a separate water closet equipped with squat toilets (adopted from the Turks) and a bucket to wash it after use. Some restaurants and cafes had W.C.s, even one for ladies and one for gents. These were hooked into the sewer system that branched under each important street.

Napoleon merits points for delivering fresh water to Paris. If serving Paris with water from the d'Ourcq River by canals was not be a consummate success, Paris gained 40 new fountains, and the emperor commanded that fountains run all day (instead of a few limited hours) and that the water be free of charge.

Perhaps the most laudable of Napoleon’s policies were utilitarian city works, especially bringing clean water and sanitation to Paris. The improvements to infrastructure included new quays to prevent floods, new gutters and pavement, new aqueducts and fountains, and relocating cemeteries and slaughterhouses to the outskirts of the city. This was also a way of keeping up employment. An Austrian aristocrat in town during Napoleon’s wedding to Marie-Louise wrote his mother, in Vienna: “Nothing can give an idea of the immense projects undertaken simultaneously in Paris. The incoherence of it is incredible; one cannot imagine that the life of a single man would be enough to finish them.”

It was a tall order. Previous rulers had been aware of the problems and one big engineering initiative, a failed marvel, had been the waterworks at Marly, located on the banks of the Seine about seven miles from Paris. Louis XIV had it constructed to pump water from the river to his chateaux of Versailles and Marly. This was the machine marvel of its age, with 250 pumps that forced river water up a 500-foot rise to an aqueduct, and it was a sight Burr mentions going to see. By 1817 the “Marly machine” had deteriorated because it was made of wood, and the waterworks were abandoned.

Charles-Augustin Sainte-Beuve, the prominent 19th century literary critic, wrote that there had been “ten years of anarchy, sedition and laxity, during which no useful work had been undertaken, not a street had been cleaned, not a residence repaired nothing improved or cleansed.” Postrevolutionary Paris was at a nadir in terms of both the inadequate, disease-ridden water supply and the filthy streets, which were basically open sewers, deep with black mud and refuse.

“Napoleon,” writes Alistair Horne, “was obsessed by the water of Paris, and everything to do with it.”

Parisians had mostly been getting their water directly from the Seine or lining up at the scant pay fountains. In 1806, nineteen new wells for fountains were dug that flowed day and night and were free. Napoleon had a canal built 60 miles from the River Ourcq, ordering 500 men to dig it, while still a consul in 1801. It brought water to the Bassin de la Villette, opening in 1808. Some doubted the wisdom of having such an abundance of water—an oriental luxury that might incur moral decay. Now the supply of water for firefighting was also much improved. The canal had light boats, as Napoleon tried to make back some of the huge expenditure by licensing navigation, and a circular aqueduct from which underground conduits went to the central city. In 1810, there were still many water porters wheeling barrels through the city.

Now Napoleon attacked the problem of the Seine as a catchall for pollution. Parisians were so used to it that men swam naked in the river and a contemporary guidebook advised merely that the water of the Seine had no ill effects on foreigners so long as they drank it mixed with wine or a drop of vinegar. Thus houses on bridges were demolished and an immense push began to clean and modernize the city sewers.

As this book is about Aaron Burr, here is section about Burr taking inspiration by a new water related invention during his time in Paris:

Remarkably for someone who was very aware of his health, he never complained of the water. He did, however, take an interest in an invention to make it easier to dig a well. When the inventor of a process to make vinegar from the sap of any tree was not in his shop, Burr and a friend, “Crede”, went to see another invention: “We went then to see Mons. Cagniard, and his new invention of raising water and performing any mechanical operation. His apparatus is a screw of Archimedes turned the reverse, air, water, and quick silver. Cagniard was abroad; but we saw a model, and worked it, and got the report of a committee of the Institute on the subject. If the thing performs what is said I will apply it to give water to Charleston.”

[Bold italics for quotations by me]

[haleswallows]

A new High Chief, unknown and a mystery despite all attempts to gather information. A fearsome person. No knight or warrior or mage had been more than an inconvenience to Pariah Dark in battle. It raised only more questions who Phantom could be.

Timothy Drake-Wayne, third prince of Gotham, refuses to let the peace talks fail, even if that means sacrificing himself.

○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○

High Chief Phantom freed the Infinite Lands from Pariah Dark’s tyrannical rule. He broke the thrall on the dragons, ended the war. But now a wasting disease plagues the dragons, and his people are suffering from the fallout of the War. Desperate for a solution, Phantom just wants peace.

Somehow, Danny Phantom gets more than he bargained for.

[moneeb0930]

Columbus died in 1505 at the age of 55. He was such a monster that the king and queen of Spain refused to invite him to the kingdom after his voyage to the Americas because of how evil he was during his financed expedition. Word spread fast about how he and his men raped and tortured and murdered the indigenous people in the Caribbean islands.

He became a pariah. He had to flee Genova (Italy) because he raped a 13 year old girl and hid in Spain, where he was broke and bedridden and finally died while his relatives shunned him from the public due to the unthinkable acts he did while at sea. When he died, he was never recognized as an explorer or discoverer of a new world. He was thought of as a “gross character with Gonorrhea, who butchered kids.”

Many Years later, when Settlers were colonizing North America, they needed a white hero to name as the person who discovered the land to justify their colonization and mistreatment of Native Americans. they randomly chose Christofo Colombo because his name had “Christ” in it, and to make it sound more European and Christian, they changed his name to Christopher Columbus, even though he never stepped foot on American soil. Then schools started teaching it. And the rest is history. But the truth is he never discovered anything. He was lost and ended up in a chain of islands. He thought he was in India. He massacred peaceful island civilizations. He murdered men, women, and kids. He tortured and raped. He brought new diseases to each island he invaded. Giving this monster a holiday is insane. We know better. And now we do better.

[mariscool9]

Pluvosis and Races

Pluvosis, as mentioned in this post, is a disease that commonly plagues the land and does not tend to show any major side effects in it's most basic state. This will detail its different forms of severity and evolution. Memlysis Pluvosis: The most basic form of the evolved disease and the easist to treat. It is caused by drinking rainwater or mass amounts of filtered seawater, eating improperly cured meats, or mass exposure to the fog. It can be treated with medication or proper access to higher quality foods. If untreated, it starts by affecting the memory, causing old memories to be replaced once new ones are made. Once it gets severe enough, the accumulated rainwater and sea extract will begin to eat away at the body, ultimately killing the person from the inside out.

Vivicide Pluvosis: The scientific name for the specific disease that effects the race known as Sinners. It is one given from birth and is always terminal. It is not a more intense version of Memlysis and cannot be gained if the person already has the less severe version of the disease. It causes decay from the inside, beginning with taking nutrients, causing the victims hair to go white and for the skin to become paler. It turns the already faux organs further into a goop, the color and consistency almost mirroring the deep sea. It causes the blood to be grey/black as well. People with this disease will often die a few years after being born, if not being killed automatically in order to save the suffering. (Note that these are not all of the traits of a sinner, but just the traits of the disease.)

Races

Humans/Elf: Referred to as both, due to their pointed ears, are the most common race. They are well versed in regular magics and fields, most commonly the elementals. They are unable to do cursed or holy magic and do not have any special physical traits. Fiend: Somewhat of an offshoot of humans, fiends are those that appear human but have beastly traits elsewhere. Their non-human trait (as there is only one visibly given) will elevate them in that field. Common traits are things such as night vision, additional stomachs, tolerance to foods that may be inedible to humans, and many more.

Beasts: This the common term used to refer to monsters or creatures that are not umbrages/scotomimuses. These creatures consist of things such as dragons, chimeras, griffins, or anything else of that sort. As they came from the sea, their innards are likely faux and they are made up of the goop from the sea.

Umbrages/Scotomimuses: The horrific creatures from the sea. Their bodies and innards are typically solid black and are highly unstable. They are unable to use higher forms of communication are do not reproduce, only consuming things and splitting themselves to create another. Sinners: The more evolved form of umbrages and humans. Created accidentally due to a certain creation being made, they're the strangers and pariahs of the land. Hated and feared by all, they're seen as monsters, and by definition, they are. Although they look human enough and can preform human speech, their innards and appearance makes that uneven. They will always have blackened hands and feet, similar to the texture of a raven's foot, an impish tail, and horns. Anything they touch will die instantly, so they usually cover themselves up if they care for human life. Additionally, they tend to cough up their innards a lot; as they are a faux goop, it appears similar to blood and has the same effect as a scotomimus' touch. They tend to die before their childhood ends.

[dorkking]

K, I have to rant about a comic I just read.

So, Marvel has their What If....? Branding where they reimagine classic stories and characters in different ways.

"What If Spiderman saved Uncle Ben?" "What if Thor was Jane Foster?" Etc.

Well, after Disney acquired 20th Century Fox and gained the rights to the Alien franchise, they gave us this.

The premise here is "What If Burke had lived?"

Burke was the corporate bad guy of the first Alien sequel, Aliens. He wanted to get his hands on a Xenomorph to bring back to Weyland-Yutani, (the giant evil corporation of the Alien franchise) so they can make biological weapons with them.

Burke was played by actor Paul Reiser which is a coincidence because....

He's the writer of this comic.

An apparently, Paul has had a bug up his ass about being seen as just a corporate stooge and an all out bad guy because this was his attempt to redeem Burke and prove he wasn't such a bad guy after all.

Even mentions this fact on his official Instagram account

Interest piqued, I grabbed the trade paperback of this aaand.....

These are just some of the little things he did that are completely Irredeemable.

He brought an alien egg to his new home because he wants to somehow make a cure for his ill wife's unspecified space disease. Went through a list of his coworkers he could risk sacrificing to achieve his goal (but he can't do it) shows no remorse for Harold. And on top of that, he told his daughter her lungs would collapse if she left the asteroid they live on, and lied that her mom was dead.

All this ignoring the fact he brought back the Xenomorphs when most signs (he had an android go and find the egg he used for his experiment) had their population on the decline and that he got people killed because of this.

And he's "not a bad guy?"

Now granted, he's doing all this because Weyland-Yutani blamed Burke for the massive loss of life in Aliens making him a pariah.

You'd think this would be a dower toned book, with Burke reflecting on his actions and desperately trying to salvage his reputation, but the story treats the whole thing as an office comedy, featuring the Xenomorphs.

Reiser is listed as an actor/comedian online so comedy is fine, but given what he's doing, it feels disjointed from the seriousness the Xenomorphs usually required.

He's hunting the queen here.

Idk, with all the potential What If has, this just felt.....dumb.

Aight, rant over, you may return your attention to the facehugger sneaking up behind you.

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

Between a Rock & a Dragon's Egg

by haleswallows A new High Chief, unknown and a mystery despite all attempts to gather information. A fearsome person. No knight or warrior or mage had been more than an inconvenience to Pariah Dark in battle. It raised only more questions who Phantom could be. Timothy Drake-Wayne, third prince of Gotham, refuses to let the peace talks fail, even if that means sacrificing himself. ○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○ High Chief Phantom freed the Infinite Lands from Pariah Dark’s tyrannical rule. He broke the thrall on the dragons, ended the war. But now a wasting disease plagues the dragons, and his people are suffering from the fallout of the War. Desperate for a solution, Phantom just wants peace. Somehow, Danny Phantom gets more than he bargained for. Words: 6678, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: Danny Phantom, DC Extended Universe Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Tim Drake, Danny Fenton, Jazz Fenton, Dan Phantom, Valerie Gray, Dorathea "Dora" (Danny Phantom), Fright Knight (Danny Phantom), Danielle "Dani" Phantom, Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent, Oliver Queen, Diana (Wonder Woman), J'onn J'onzz, Duke Thomas, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Damian Wayne, Barbara Gordon, Batfamily Members (DCU), Original Characters, Vlad Masters, a good smattering of characters from both DC and DP but not major idk there's lots of people in this Relationships: Tim Drake/Danny Fenton, Danny Fenton & Jazz Fenton & Dan Phantom & Danielle "Dani" Phantom, Tim Drake & Valerie Gray Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Dragons, Alternate Universe - Magic, Soul Bond, Arranged Marriage, Slow Burn, Misunderstandings, Political Marriage, Alternate Universe - No Powers, No Heroes, POV Multiple via https://ift.tt/p8qJ1ZV

[belacqui-pro-quo]

The Faubourg Saint-Germain, however, as Proust depicts it, was in the early stages of this development. It admitted inverts because it felt attracted by what it judged to be a vice. Proust describes how Monsieur de Charlus, who had formerly been tolerated, "notwithstanding his vice," for his personal charm and old name, now rose to social heights. He no longer needed to lead a double life and hide his dubious acquaintances, but was encouraged to bring them into the fashionable houses. Topics of conversation which he formerly would have avoided — love, beauty, jealousy — lest somebody suspect his anomaly, were now welcomed avidly "in view of the experience, strange, secret, refined and monstrous upon which he founded" his views.

Something very similar happened to the Jews. Individual exceptions, ennobled Jews, had been tolerated and even welcomed in the society of the Second Empire, but now Jews as such were becoming increasingly popular. In both cases, society was far from being prompted by a revision of prejudices. They did not doubt that homosexuals were "criminals" or that Jews were "traitors"; they only revised their attitude toward crime and treason. The trouble with their new broadmindedness, of course, was not that they were no longer horrified by inverts but that they were no longer horrified by crime. They did not in the least doubt the conventional judgment. The best-hidden disease of the nineteenth century, its terrible boredom and general weariness, had burst like an abscess. The outcasts and the pariahs upon whom society called in its predicament were, whatever else they might have been, at least not plagued by ennui and, if we are to trust Proust's judgment, were the only ones in fin-de-siècle society who were still capable of passion. Proust leads us through the labyrinth of social connections and ambitions only by the thread of man's capacity for love, which is presented in the perverted passion of Monsieur de Charlus for Morel, in the devastating loyalty of the Jew Swann to his courtesan and in the author's own desperate jealousy of Albertine, herself the personification of vice in the novel. Proust made it very clear that he regarded the outsiders and newcomers, the inhabitants of "Sodome et Ghomorre," not only as more human but as more normal.

— Hannah Arendt, The Origins of Totalitarianism

[villain-in-love]

My s/is as specific lyrics from the songs I have in their playlists because I obviously have nothing better to do:

Fool!Katerina Kronion (The Arcana) – I Am Not A Woman I'm A God by Halsey

I am not a woman, I'm a god I am not a martyr, I'm a problem I am not a legend, I'm a fraud So keep your heart, 'cause I already got one

Real!Katerina Kronion (The Arcana) – Oh My Dear Lord by The Unlikely Candidates

Been a tyrant, been a pusher, pushing my disease Breaking bones and taking everything in front of me Priests and beggars looking up to heaven from their knees Is anyone listening?

Katharine Mortifera (Pandora Hearts) – Sirens by Bear Ghost

They say you oughta dance like no one's watching They're a telepathic chorus in my mind With their laser guided eyes Firing leers as sharp as knives A pariah gone awry Ah, just come find me!

Belial (Obey Me!) – The Devil is a Gentleman by Merci Raines

Might be the sharpest dressed on Sunday Sing the loudest in the choir But by the time she gets the Monday She's got her hands back in the fire

Katarina/Ramshackle Prefect (Twisted Wonderland) – Бесприданница by Dead Blonde

I will put on my new eyeliner, So I will be the prettiest one at the shootout (ah) I never go out without my favourite knife Do you really think that you can scare me? (Haha!)

Katrin Lester (Katekyo Hitman Reborn) – This Ain't A Scene, It's An Arms Race by Fall Out Boy

I am an arms dealer, fitting you with Weapons in the form of words And I don't really care which side wins As long as the room keeps singing, that’s just a business I’m in

Zero (Nanbaka) – Сказка by IC3PEAK

I came from a scary russian fairy tale, I don’t care where you are from I’m not afraid of the daylight, there’s enough darkness anyway The world will give you anything you ask for, and then take it away when you least expect it I’m not playing your games, you’re going to die someday anyway

Human!Death/Katarina (Black Butler) – Undertaker by Nova Twins

Skull collector Forgive me, yeah, I can do so much better I'm a victim of bad circumstances Can we make a deal 'Cause I'm all out of chances

The Death (Black Butler Multiverse) – Monster by Willyecho

I can be rude, be in a mood, I can be rotten I can be cruel, might act a fool, but never forgotten Creeping in the dark waiting for you… You won't like what you see

P.S. Pieces of lyrics from "Сказка" and "Бесприданница" are translated from russian by me.

P.P.S. Yes, I changed the pronouns in the quote from "The Devil is a Gentleman". Just because I can because this devil is a woman.

P.P.P.S. Since the instrumentals and vocals matter just as much as the lyrics, my playlists might not always contain the original versions of songs. "I Am Not A Woman I'm A God" suits Katerina much more when sung by Rain Paris, and for Zero I prefer slowed down version of "Сказка".

[never-was-has-been]

My added comment as an extended answer to Krister Sundelin's answer: ~

Krister. I agree with all the variations of “Leftist”. I also agree that Capitalism has been viewed, in the 20th century from multiple perspectives. My view is that Capitalism was essentially an economic approach that centered on localization of businesses, scattered around the United States in small town communities that functioned for the sake of those small communities in the mid 19th century, post Civil War. Big corporations were few & far between and there wasn’t a centralized stock market that drew the large & small businesses that decided to “incorporate”. Interestingly enough, J. D. Rockefeller was one of those few budding capitalists who mixed his devout, strict Christian Baptist beliefs with his desire to work for a company and keep the books. He blossomed and became a mini-giant in the Oil business during and after the Civil War. He gradually became adept at being an Oil company employee with simple financial genius management. By the time of the late 1880’s, Rockefeller had learned how to use the railroads to ship his Oil from Cleveland Ohio’s major Oil wells, to customers in Pennsylvania, New York and other larger communities. He was VERY shrewd and some said ruthless. But he became the symbol of successful corporate capitalism while others of his ilk were doing similar approaches to their growing corporate businesses. Obviously, Rockefeller was not the first capitalist to recognize the power that could be attained if one applied himself while being persistent and determined. But there was a dark side to Rockefeller that was mirrored in others like him. Even Teddy Roosevelt the Anti-Trust advocate, believed that Capitalism on the large scale aka Corporations, if regulated by the Govt, could function as a strong ‘nation builder’. He was a self described Progressive in his time. My point here is that Capitalism has always teetered on a thin path between evil and criminal, benefiting the few on a grand scale and morally acceptable and useful, benefiting the whole of the social structure. Even Organized Crime, if examined in terms of “business”, has elements within it that mirror the capitalists of the 19th & 20th centuries..albeit without the constant murdering of their rivals. And this is my point. Capitalism today in my view, is a highly volatile mixture of vice, crime, business acumen, greed, perseverance and determination to be numero uno, big monkey, King of the mountain, Godfather, Premier, President, or Dictator. Historically, it has grown to an unregulated monster in the early 20th century, then for a period of multiple depressions and two World Wars, was tamed with reasonable regulation until the 1980’s. Then it accelerated into a realm of deregulated disorganized “free market” corporate crime that was legitimized through legislation by the US House of Representatives, the Senate and most especially the rulings of the Supreme Court (the Citizen’s United decision 2009), that opened up MORE huge markets of “opportunities” for those willing to be ruthless…much like their 19th century predecessors aka J. D. Rockefeller. So anyone to the “Left” of that ideology, became pariahs and were pilloried, mocked and even arrested if their voices became too strong and influential. I’m reading the book “Titan: The Life of John D. Rockefeller, Sr.” I recommend this book as a resource to understand how Capitalism metastasized into the incurable disease that it is now, in my view.

[timelorddarthswagger]

Futuristic dystopian utopia with a seedy underbelly always have the red herring in how they name their new cities or organizations. " Our founder William Pariah. Had a vision for the future before inventing the Geno-seed. In the hopes of giving humanity a fresh start against climate change. The longinus foundation has sought to make that dream a reality.

With the permission of the parents and a patent approved by the country. 200 patients were given this geno-seed implant at birth. The biomechanical implant. Is The perfect blend between, mankind, nature, and machine. Ladies and gentlemen I welcome you to the age of human photosynthesis. Where humanity no longer has a need for evolution. But comes with upgrades.

Bio-gradable human, or Bio-human, and even b-human are all approved forms of address. They heal faster, grow stronger, can communicate thoughts at a simple touch. This added control has made them near impervious to disease and they can be sustained for days at a time on just sunlight. The only side effects are increased height and an additional need for hydration. "

We're just gonna ignore that the founder is called Mr. Pariah. The implants name sounds like genocide. And that the name of the company is named after the spear that pierced the heart of Jesus. While these people are called b-human!? And you know the saddest part is that within a single generation the number of parents that will approve of something like that would be in the millions. Those Bio-humans would then become sought after in the workforce. Yea they'd get stigmatized at first.

But you know society would never be the same. They're going to even start referring to those with the implants as Plants. The same ways some people refer to others as sheep. Plants and Un-Planted. How long until the other side becomes stigmatized? Eventually they evolve to the point of being able to send messages through actual plants. Nothing at a superhero level by way of manipulation. But imagine a Bio-human as a cop looking for someone. And you see the grass wilt or change color in the direction an size of the perps footsteps.

Only plants in floating gardens are free from their growing influence. C'mon that's a good pun!

[levitatingbiscuits]

my favorite lines from my favorite fics that i read in 2024

Theseus' Ship by LifeOfMystery, LittleLovelyLizard, TrenchcoatRats, Zyla_SweetBean

"I removed all of the symptoms of your human affliction. I replaced your blood and sinew with circuits, your so easily hurt body with metal, your very mind with code. You will never have to worry about being damaged ever again, little one. You will suffer no disease, no affliction, not even a cut or a scrape. You will be safe, secure with me, forever."

Miscellaneous Senyuu AUs by floofboy

“-Shut up,” hisses Ros. “I already know what you’re going to say.” His voice shifts to a falsetto. “Ah, but Ros, what if you die for me again? I don’t care that I’m making you live in a living hell as long as I don’t feel guilty about it.” “What do you mean by living hell?” Alba demands, a note of panic staining his voice now. “This entire world!” “Is… is this world that bad?” says Alba, voice going quiet. “A world where I can’t call you an idiot without becoming a social pariah is not a world I want to live in,” Ros says primly.

ship-to-ship combat by pomeloquat

Wait. Fuck. “Uh, Lois,” Clark says, almost dropping his mug on the floor in his rush to walk back to his living room as fast as he can without using super speed. “Actually, the laptop- if you could give me a minute- I was- um. Watching porn? And I don’t-” "Clark. What the hell is this," Lois asks, staring at Clark's Bruceman WIP folder. Clark's first instinct is to fly away, but that would still leave his fic on display for her to see. His second instinct is to blast a hole straight through his laptop screen with his heat vision, which isn't much better. He’d have to do like fifty commissions to buy a new laptop. Also then he’d have to explain to Lois that he’s Superman and that would be the biggest problem of all. “Nothing!” he says, sliding across the hardwood floors to slam his laptop closed. “Just some stuff for work, you know how it is-” Lois silences him with a harsh shush. “Clark Joseph Kent, why are you writing Real Person Fiction about Bruce Wayne and Batman?”

pleased to meet you (hope you guess my name) by BogStandardOtaku

She wasn't Maria from the game, was she? She was just Maria. She wasn't a heroine. She wasn't perfect. Even though, somehow, that made her more perfect to Katarina.

raised by winter winds by nyoomerr

Maybe if he had been there, he could have stopped things before they started. Shen Qingqiu never would have abused a child - not one that Shen Yuan would ever have to know about. Maybe he still would have done everything else - neglecting his disciples at large, isolating Shen Yuan, being unduly cruel to people that have yet to do wrong to him - but that one major crime could have been avoided. Maybe Shen Yuan still would grow to resent Shen Qingqiu, but he could avoid this hatred. That isn’t the world that Shen Yuan lives in, though. He lives in a world where Luo Binghe had already been scarred by the discipline whip long before Shen Yuan had ever met him, where Luo Binghe’s cultivation had nearly been crippled before he’d even been given a chance. You’re supposed to hate an abuser like that, and so Shen Yuan hates Shen Qingqiu. And yet…

onward, lonesome hero (carry on, carry on) by hoebiwan 

“Do you make a habit,” Batman asks, “of getting tortured?” “I would say it’s more an occasional weekend hobby than a habitual occupation,” Superman says. “Who tortured you?” Batman asks. “That’s kind of a personal question,” Superman says.

To Tell the Truth by Mithen

"I've hated you for a long time," snarled Wayne. "But I've never been afraid to say it out loud. Until now." Which didn't make a lot of sense to Steve, but he was too worried about the way the two of them were glaring at each other to puzzle it out. He was a little worried one of them was going to throw himself at the other one, the way they were almost panting with rage. Steve Lombard was feeling very uncomfortable.

Because I Say So! by Nihes

Leia's mother sighed again, but this time it was a sigh of defeat, and Leia knew exactly what would happen next. She had enough. "Oh don't worry," Leia snapped. "She's always on your side, she would even continue to sing your praises and make excuses for your awful behavior if you murdered a bunch of children right in front of her eyes." That actually seemed to hit its mark because her mother stiffened and her father whirled around so fast Leia was surprised he didn't get whiplash.

The Seduction by ikkiM

Enough was enough. “Yes. I want to go on a date with you. And you want to go on a date with me. I can tell.” He knew he’d hit that mark when her eyes widened, like a sexy doe poised for flight.

In Which Uraraka Ochako Decides to End the World by ijustwanttodestroy

Ultimately, she decides that she will end the world because she simply has to end the world. This is not a matter of want. Ochako can’t remember the last time she really wanted anything. What this is, is a matter of utility. Ochako simply has to do it because Ochako understands innately—like how a butterfly understands that it has to fly—that this is something she simply does. It’s what she was made for, because it’s what she can do.

The substitute by Olor_a_Azufre

Furina is a siren, and he is a fool craving to be drowned by her entrancing voice. He desires ruin, madness, depravity if it’s her hand what debauches him. A sovereign kneeling to a human, baring his throat, slitting his chest open with the desperation of a deranged beast, showing her the void space where his heart should be, shaped in her form. And so, Neuvillette claims her. In front of the whole audience, the whole opera—their opera—, under the sleeping gaze of Celestia. He gives her a part of his soul and blends them together. Bound to one another until the last breath leaves her tender lips and he devours her. And then he flees, like a criminal.

All Your Years For Naught by daoguang_yongheng (antsinabox)

Oh, Furina. Dear, perfect Furina. Too divine to be selfish even once in five hundred years, too human to survive the touch of the Primordial Sea. Fontaine - and Focalors - had never deserved her to begin with. She closed her eyes. She hadn't fooled the Heavenly Principles at all. There she sat, weeping alone on her throne, as the storm ravaged all that was left standing. There was only one thing left to do, she supposed. Feed the dragon's grief. If all of Teyvat was to be judged, so be it.

a few drops go a long way by SafelyCapricious 

Although none of these instructors ever throw a boulder at her head, still she’s taught the intricacies of politics, which feels like rather the same thing.

The Blackfish and the Dragon by ama

“Do you realize next month it will be three years since we met?” she asked. The corner of her mouth tilted up. “You called me a peasant.” “I was hoping you had forgotten that.” “I forget nothing.”

Isn’t It Wonderful by smiled_at_you

Rengoku’s smile, his unruined eye shining, but Tanjiro could smell the regret and despair through the stench of blood. “You were sad, even though you s-smiled. You kept a brave face, but you didn’t want to die. You were – You were so scared,” Tanjiro manages. Fresh tears and snot drip down his face. He curls inwards, choking back a sob. “I never told anyone that you were scared. Not even your brother, or your father.”

Lying In Wait by Cogni_Diss

“As already stated, the earth itself is ours to shape,” The kami outstretched their right hand, palm lifted toward the sky. “invigor,” Between their fingers, the lights of the camp flickered about unaware of the one now gazing upon them. “drain,” With a flick of their hand, the further separation of their fingers saw very maws of the earth itself open wide. The horizon cracked beneath the camp, shaking everything beneath their feet in growing intensity as the crevice grew to engulf every possible hint of life. “And break as we see fit.”

Alternate Methods for Restraining Unruly Captives by Ashen_Serpent

With all the flair of rescuing a cat with its head stuck in a tissue box, The Collector plucked Arkin from the razor wire and then slammed him down onto the floor with a weak “thud”. He then picked up the weighted blanket and laid it flat on the floor, maneuvering Arkin onto it while ignoring his murmured swears.

[dankusner]

Jennifer Lopez Is Becoming an Elizabeth Taylor for a New Generation

Ms. Weiner, a novelist, writes frequently about gender and culture.

Nothing gold can stay.

Children grow up.

Parents grow old.

Summer’s warmth gives way to winter’s chill.

Add to this list of sad inevitabilities the Jennifer Lopez-Ben Affleck breakup.

After months of speculation and internet chatter, on Wednesday the news broke that Ms. Lopez had officially moved to dissolve her union with Mr. Affleck — on the anniversary of their 2022 wedding ceremony at a recreation of a Georgia plantation, no less.

“She was done waiting and the date she did it speaks a ton,” a source told People Magazine.

This marriage was, of course, the second time around for Ben and Jen, who’d first been engaged in the early aughts, and who had found their way back to each other in 2021.

It was a love story for the ages — or, at least, for second-chance-loving pop-culture fans of a certain age seeking pandemic-era distractions. Had romance conquered all?

Or was another of JLo’s relationships destined to take a turn on Fortuna’s wheel? The reports that the couple did not sign a prenup suggest they were of the former belief.

Call it the triumph of hope over lawyers.

This will be Ms. Lopez’s fourth divorce, which puts her at risk of becoming an Elizabeth Taylor for a new generation: a multitalented female celebrity who is best known not for her vast creative output nor even for her undeniable beauty and charm, but, instead, for her many marriages.

Over her eight decades, Ms. Taylor was married eight times to seven men (the discrepancy owing to her two walks down the aisle with Richard Burton).

At 55, Ms. Lopez has married, in addition to Mr. Affleck, the producer Ojani Noa, the backup dancer Cris Judd and the singer Marc Anthony; she was also once engaged to the baseball player Alex Rodriguez.

Which means she’s just a few Larry Fortenskys away from hitting what future historians may refer to as the Taylor line, where what gets covered is your love life, and not your life’s work.

But there’s a big difference between JLo and La Liz.

Growing up in the 1970s and 1980s, I was too young to know Ms. Taylor as the violet-eyed phenom who first dazzled in “National Velvet” and went on to be perhaps the most famous, the most glamorous movie star in the world. I was, however, just the right age to experience her as a pop culture mainstay and occasional punchline. This was Ms. Taylor’s frosted-tips-and-caftans era, when she appeared in front of a camera only to make soft-focus perfume ads, parodied by “Saturday Night Live.” It was the time of her union with Mr. Fortensky, a construction worker she’d met in rehab, and whom she married at her friend Michael Jackson’s Neverland Ranch. The news media that had once so eagerly built her up was all too happy to lavish attention on her decline, as well.

But here’s the thing. In between getting married, divorced and married again, Ms. Taylor found time to leverage her brand for an unglamorous but utterly urgent cause: She put her fame in service of people with AIDS.

She did it early, in 1985, when many still wrongly feared that H.I.V. could be transmitted through casual contact, and people with AIDS were pariahs. Some hospitals didn’t want to treat them. Some landlords didn’t want to rent to them. Some schools didn’t want to teach them. Religious conservatives called the disease God’s judgment.

And there was Elizabeth Taylor, holding fund-raisers, giving money, urging Ronald Reagan to make a speech about AIDS (a word he had for years been reluctant even to say in public), rallying Hollywood friends and lovers to the cause, even when some colleagues warned her that aligning herself with such a reviled disease and the strident activism that was associated with it could end her career.

Who cares about careers, she demanded, “when the people, without whom we wouldn’t have a career, are dying?”

“I resented my fame,” her biographer, Kate Andersen Brower, has quoted her as saying, “until I realized I could use it.” She used it, and changed the world.

Jennifer Lopez could do it, too.

Unlike Ms. Taylor, who’d retired from movies in her latter decades, Ms. Lopez is still a fantastically successful entertainer. This has not been her best year — there was a much-mocked, self-financed multimedia project, a hastily canceled world tour, and a spate of think pieces about where it all went wrong and why social media had turned on her. But let’s not forget that in 2023 Ms. Lopez starred in top-streaming movies on two separate platforms. In 2020 she performed at the Super Bowl, and in 2021 she performed at the Biden inauguration. Even during this, her annus horribilis, she found time to serve as a co-chair of the Met Gala, where she appeared in a stunning Schiaparelli gown. She’s got beauty and charisma for days, work ethic for weeks.

“Here’s an entertainer determined to enter-freaking-tain,” Wesley Morris wrote, in his review of “This Is Me … Now: A Love Story.” “Her sort of generosity shouldn’t be taken for granted.”

With that generosity, she could be fighting the good fight on behalf of any number of worthy endeavors and making a tremendous impact. But so far, her most celebrated victories are those against Mother Nature and Father Time.

Read enough about Ms. Lopez and two things are quickly evident: She wants to control her own narrative, and she yearns for love and affirmation. “In Jennifer’s case, I don’t think there’s enough followers, or — or movies or records,” Ben Affleck says in the behind-the-scenes documentary about the making of Ms. Lopez’s latest album, “to still that part of you that still feels a longing and a pain. Ultimately that’s the work that you got to do on your own.”

“When I was a girl they’d ask me what I’d be/A woman in love is what I grew up wanting to be/It’s my melody/The symphony I sing,” Ms. Lopez sings in the “This is Me … Now” title track. “True love does exist, and some things are forever,” she told USA Today. “ Please don’t give up on that because that’s all that matters in life … love.” Ms. Lopez is hardly the only woman who wants to fall in love (and to look amazing while she’s doing it). But she is one of a very few who can also command the attention of millions of fans, whose voice can draw attention to the plight or oppressed group of her choosing, whose words could change the world.

I wouldn’t be presumptuous enough to tell Ms. Lopez which cause to embrace, nor to trot out the hoary old advice about how you’ll fall in love not when you’re looking, but when you are pursuing your passions, living your best life. She’s a queen — and she’s already pursuing her passions and living her best life. I hope she gets her heart’s desire.

Meanwhile, I hope she knows that the kind of cultural capital she wields can be a tremendous force, reaching far beyond the bounds of the movie theaters and the tabloids and the satellite-radio broadcasts. If JLo is going to be our generation’s Elizabeth Taylor, I hope she’ll lean into the best, most empowering parts of that story — Ms. Taylor as world-changer, speaking truth to power, not Ms. Taylor as the eternal bride.