#even if you are a revolutionary that doesn't mean you want your friends to die

[ifimakemybedinhell]

if judas didn’t realise that the trial would lead jesus to his death (basing this on the fact that the sanhedrin did not have the power to sentence people to death, a fact i can’t remember the source for, sorry*), then it’s possible he thought he was bringing him back to orthodoxy, away from terrifying premonitions of death and godhood. it’s possible he was scared by the future he saw coming of a rebel execution and ended up causing it anyway. no wonder he’d feel guilty and ashamed and terrified and heartbroken.

*they didn’t, but looking it up jesus may not have been tried by them but a group of priests from the temple

[binomech]

I mean it when I say that Kim and Harry's relationship is only possible at the point in time where they meet, as the people they are during the Hanged Man case. I love playing with AUs but the same way even a Harry with amnesia is inevitably a product of his past, so is Kim. this is a VERY long post so i'm putting it under a cut.

facts about Harry:

Harry tried to kill himself three times in one night and he failed to kill his body

The Harry you meet does not remember this, consciously, and yet sometimes the only thing he thinks will solve a situation is killing himself

Harry doesn't remember his mother, but he remembers being very loved by her

Harry is the only person left from his childhood friend group, and he forgot them

Harry learns about his life through a case ledger and a bitter coworker and a town full of people he traumatized before he tried to kill himself

The ledger says: You were brilliant and bright and you solved every mystery. You once beat a man until he could never walk again with this very clipboard because he reminded you of yourself. Out of all the policing specialties, you picked building safety regulation because it wasn't violent, and once you spotted a crumbling building and reported it but it fell before anyone in the force could give a shit and a bunch of families died. Your partner that you forgot, who you only have experienced as vitriolic and judgemental, once campaigned to keep a street mural because he knew it was a sign of hope for you and you liked it.

Your body remembers what your mind cannot: The smell of apricots and loss. Being raped. Prepping for anal with another man. Being a gym teacher, a loving mentor and then giving it up for the apricot smell. A sick liver. A sad brain. A locked jaw and chronic pain because the polio epidemic took everyone but not you. Survivor's guilt. The need to dance.

he thing about harry's memory loss is that it's that his life becomes a crime scene to investigate. and he's very good at that. he's been told it's the only thing he's good at. and his body remembers that that momentum is the thing keeping him alive. and yet everything he finds is marred with mistakes, violence and lots and lots of love that make the mistakes and violence even more damning. and he can't stop looking with morbid curiosity because it doesn't even feel like his life, but he's living the consequences of it. and sometimes he does things, he feels things, and he understands that he's not someone else and then he wants to die.

Why are you an amnesiac? Is it because the pale took you while you sank in the water next to a church where baby pale is growing? Is it what the decades of substance abuse did to your brain tissue? Is this you, protecting you from yourself, just so you can live for a few weeks more?

Why are you a detective? You remember being a happy teacher, a good teacher, you were an art student teaching gym. why did you change careers? Is the insatiable curiosity that your body remembers something that was eating you alive? Is it why you're still alive at all, to find out? Did you think you could do more with a gun in your hand and some speed in your system? Did she think that?

And then there's Kim. One of Kim's lines that is among my favorites, and weirdly honest for what we get from him usually when he's talking to people that aren't Harry is:

"My position, ma'am? My parents got ripped to shreds in the Revolution -- I would have gone the same way. I was saved by being two years old. That's my position -- the abattoir."

Harry's life is defined by a violence that he cannot remember, Kim's life is defined by a violence he cannot forget.

And that, I think, is important to their dynamic. Kim's life is defined by the degradation he has suffered, by the Moralintern as the child of revolutionaries, by his peers at every point in his life due to his racial heritage and his sexuality, by his disability. His fear isn't even fear, it's a certainty -- he's waiting for the other shoe to drop and go the same way his parents went, in front of a firing squad for daring to want something better. So he bargains, and he tries to delay what he knows is coming by not only not stepping out of line but giving the line a wide berth that could be a fucking moat filled with krakens.

He grows up Dolorian breathing the ideology of the institution that had his parents executed 24/7. He believes so deeply that he is as important as everyone else for the world to keep going, a blue forget me not, a piece of the sky. But of course he knows enough about his parents so he cosplays as a revolutionary and joins the RCM as the shitty replacement of the Commune's guerrilla.

He spends 15 years in a position usually given to recently enlisted officers because they do not believe him to be good enough. He finally promotes by going undercover as a teenager and infiltrating a fucking arcade because asians look so young and asians are so good at tech. The first partner he gets as a detective is nicknamed Eyes because he was assigned to him because his eyesight and sharpshooting could not be trusted. He doesn't see a shooter approaching and Eyes takes a bullet for him and he's the one to deliver the news to his family.

He doesn't even believe in Moralism, strictly, because he's too old and not innocent enough but the sunk cost of spending his entire life carving his tombstone as an RCM lieutenant is simply too much to give up. He rations his cigarettes to remind himself no matter how much he wants, wanting will destroy you from the inside out.

And then, he gets sent to Martinaise both because he is undeniably good at his job (he's shown them, he can shoot, he can fine, he can send people to jail facilities without breaking a sweat, he can lord over his authority to any civilian as much as any other straight white cop in the precinct) but also with the expectation that he will Fail and they'll finally have a reason to demote him. And he goes there and waits for two days for Harry to show up and when he does, he's drunk, doesn't know the basics of the world (the basics he cannot forget for one second or they will kill him, too) and is still capable of wonder.

And Kim is so fucking jealous. He's like "what the fuck, I have to do so much and this guy gets a pass?". Not because you are actually doing anything wrong, most of the questions are standard for Harry at any point in the game, but you get to forget everything and keep your job. You get to have drugs and keep your standing. You get to be violent and brilliant and no one doubts you for a second. He gets away with wearing heels and blatantly faggy old fashioned clothes. He gets to cry and show the worst parts of himself. He gets to protect you without losing anything.

Harry is everything Kim can't be, because he is a white cop.

But that's not what changes things, in the end. It's that this guy who literally is everything a good detective is and also everything awful a detective is, takes one look at you and sees you on the other side of the moat and he doesn't even build a bridge: He plunges headfirst into the moat and makes friends with the krakens and comes out soaked and dying on the other side and he smiles and asks for your opinion, Kim, you always know what to say

He doesn't know you and he's the first person that doesn't assume the worst. And you know he's putting you on a pedestal, and that you need to make sure he understands that's not good for him, but it does feel a little good to have all the things you do be acknowledged without friction.

And he makes stupid jokes and when you joke back he laughs and doesn't think less of you. And he likes art, which you will never let yourself understand, and he likes children because he doesn't have a history of 15 years trying to get kids to have a better life and them dying by the dozens, and he's everything you hate because he's everything you wish you could be.

And then he finds a miracle, and he tells the miracle about you, and you take a picture and it's not a dream. You thought, it must be the amnesia, he will remember and life will go on with the realities that you know to be true. But the picture is still there: Tangible proof that not everything you think immutable is a sure fact of reality.

Unbeknownst to you, in one of these universes he spares you from a nuclear bomb that he launches himself. If you get shot, he will hear you on the radio when he needs you the most. You are not the only one that has been changed from this.

Pre-amnesia Harry and Kim could have never found this tentative kindness because Harry was bogged down by all the things he had done and Kim was buried in things he couldn't do. But whatever happened to Harry, it opened a door in a huge web of universes, just by saying "It doesn't have to be like this". No matter where they go from the ending of the game, that is a thing you cannot un-know.

[yanderes-galore]

May I request Far Cry 6? Darling is part of libertad, maybe they could be Dani’s sibling? Perhaps it could be a platonic Yandere Dani vs Yandere Castillo? (I’m trying to think of how this could tie into the winter ask but idk how 😭)

I think I understand your request... but I wasn't sure what pairing you wanted Anton so I kept him general and Dani platonic. Dani is referred to as They/Them in this.

Not fully proofread, Expect mistakes!

Yandere! Platonic Dani vs Yandere! Castillo with Dani's Sibling! Darling

Pairing: Platonic (Dani/Castillo)/Romantic (Castillo)

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Overprotective behavior, Possessive behavior, Violence, Murder mention, Kidnapping, Psychological torment implied, Blood, Dictatorship, Human "pet" mention, Forced companionship/relationship (Anton).

The idea of this brings so much drama.

Dani wants to protect you as you are their sibling, they've seen all the harm caused by the Castillos and that's why they've joined Libertad.

Meanwhile Anton Castillo has his own plans for you as you help your sibling rebel.

Again, Anton's obsession could be platonic... wanting to raise you better than a revolutionary... or romantic, wanting to treat you to a life of luxury by his side.

Either way he plans to make your fate a message.

Anton plans to show all the other wild dogs and lambs in Yara their place by "domesticating" you.

In any means necessary.

This is another rivalry dynamic where one yandere is protective and the other is on the offensive.

Dani's trying their best to care for you in Libertad, trying to keep you out of sight from Castillo's forces.

You're just as wanted as them... but for different reasons.

Anton Castillo is willing to kill your sibling in front of you just to teach you a message.

In fact, a lot of Anton's obsession includes psychological torment.

If you've seen half the things he's done in Far Cry 6, you'd understand.

Due to you being part of Libertad, Anton would kill your friends... family... and allies to break you down.

Then when you're left deserted in a pool of red, he'll pick you up out of the aftermath.

He'll clean you up like adopting a stray and make you his.

In Anton's eyes, having you run around with Dani makes you just as much a dog or sheep like the rest of Yara.

As your master... as a lion... Anton will make you his prized pet.

Dani doesn't even want to bring you on missions.

So many people in Yara die on the streets.

When Dani learns that Anton has put out a bounty on you to take you in alive... they begin to realize that you both are in much deeper than they thought.

Dani wants to hide you in someplace like a bunker until the Castillos are dealt with.

Dani has no clue why Anton wants you, but they don't like the idea.

Dani refuses to roll over and hand you to the Castillos... just to be shot.

So they fight, they fight for you, Libertad, and Yara as a whole.

Dani is a very soft yandere in this... in fact I always seem to write them as soft in a way.

They don't want you hurt and keep you out of danger.

They're barely even a yandere as their protective behavior seems justified.

Anton on the other hand....

By the end of this rivalry things can end two ways.

Dani wins the revolution and successfully protects you as your sibling.

Your life is slowly rebuilt and you're happy.

Anton Castillo wins?

You're dragged away from bloody and flaming carnage... your clothes torn with tears streaming down your cheeks...

All while Anton drags you into a life of luxury built on the blood of others.

He'll wash you up, dress you in white, and train/educate you properly like the pet you are.

Don't frown... this is the best for you.

Anton will treat you like his loyal dog...

In reality you're just another lamb in a lion's den.

[stromuprisahat]

Question: how do you justify what the darkling did to Genya, Alina and Nikolai? I don’t even mean this to sound rude, but I’m just genuinely curious how you just brush past that when you say the Darkling never did anything he’d have to apologize for 🙃

I'd start with stating that I don't like the word "justify". Google says its meaning is "to show or prove to be right or reasonable", which to me sounds like something that's expected whenever you're about to do something that might offend or hurt anyone. Like pre-made apology you owe people even though you might not have anything to apologize for in the end.

It's really about lack of better words. Czech dictionary translates "justify" as "odůvodnit" or "ospravedlnit", out of which the first one is strictly without that moral baggage. Closer to "give reason".

Aleksander's actions are often perceived out of context, as malicious crimes he committed for his own enjoyment, or whatever suits the antis best, while there are plenty of factors we shouldn't fail to consider.

Ravka- The country he loves, even though it doesn't love him. Rarely peaceful- according to Shadow and Bone, current wars last for over a century. Drained by both its neighbours, split in two for long enough it's pretty unbelievable the West is only planning to secede, poor, with ruling class, who doesn't care and has no reason to.

Grisha- From outright hated to respected, but in constant danger anywhere else, Aleksander manged to carve out a place for them under conditions. The Crown allows Grisha to live right on its backyard (to better keep an eye on), safely train and serve as soldiers or servants of noble houses, as long as they're useful, but... also has no need or intention to take it further. Grisha are glorified, envied serfs in fancy clothes. They're used by monarchy, despised and distrusted by masses, as proved by several little things throughout the first book and instant pogroms once the Fold moves (And don't forget there were no survivors- no true witnesses-, aside from few of the Darkling's people.).

His own lives' experience- Let's be honest- centuries of watching his people- however close- die, drawbacks, betrayals, constantly repeating history... gives one quite a perspective. It's a miracle the Darkling is merely numb and tired, yet somehow hardly unfeeling. Unlike the young heroes he possesses enough self-control not to start begging, crying, screaming... He's lashing out, when he has a reason to believe it won't bite him in the ass, he's petty and hurts others, punishing them for hurting him.

setting- Forget 21st century morality. If we're talking about 19th century-esque world, it wouldn't only have fancy nobles, dashing princes to play pirates privateers and masses of uneducated peasants. The reason people think the way they do is they got there somehow. Ravka still has servitude, for gods' sake! Lives don't matter the way people want them to today! It won't be only about some being rich and some poor, there should be huge differences depending on one's circumstances of birth, bloodlines, wrongs or slights generations old... I'm aware we're suppose to pretend Alina get a pass, because she's "Living Saint", but for example slapping a member of royalty should cost her. Bastard or not, you let it slide once, and next thing you know people are getting ideas and building guillotines.

Now to your question:

Genya is the easiest. She got punished for disobeying direct order, betraying the Darkling for a girl she hardly knew and who was too self-involved to truly act like the friend Genya for some reason suddenly feels her to be.

Aleksander let Genya close enough to be considerably honest around her, at least regarding his intentions with Lantsovs. Dangerous thing to do for a man in his position (and although I have my theories, this reply is no place for them). That's why he made it personal. She didn't only abandon their cause, she hurt him, so he took what she valued most about herself, fitting his revenge into her expectable punishment.

He could've had her whipped. To death even. Instead he chose more personal approach.

Alina's the messiest, because way too many feelings got involved and Aleksander's shit in handling those. His only lasting relationship is his abusive mother, others tend to die on him. Alina's a personification of a dream. Someone to keep him company for the rest of eternity. A companion he longed for for so long, he's not able to handle the bitter truth. I don't think he ever considered his "One and Only Equal" might not be interested in his goals and while he might rationally understand Alina's so much younger, he quickly loses his patience and decides to speed up her development because her young self is interfering with his general plans.

Now, while younger Aleksander might have been more passionate, he was never allowed the luxury of recklessness or even childhood, as a consequence of which he has no idea how to handle hormonal teenagers. Alina's worldview is incredibly narrow and she has several mental mechanisms to prevent her from changing that, while Aleksander's living in constant paranoia, possibility of fight or flight 24/7. They're incompatible the way they are- Alina unwilling to change, Aleksander too rigid and lacking the luxury of choice- yet in each other's way too much to merely split up. The Darkling needs the Sun Summoner as a tool and a symbol, and as long as he breathes, Alina won't have a chance to regain her beloved anonymity.

What he did to her?

The Collar was his hand forced. Unreliable deserter possessing the power he needed to ensure ceasefire.

What else is there that couldn't be explain by simple "They're on opposite sides of a conflict."?

The only other moment that comes to my mind is him burning down the orphanage, one of my favourites. The situation is thus:

The Darkling occupies the Throne (Yay!), but he lacks wide support, numbers and resources, therefore he's forced to rule by fear, which is no way to go, when he wants to build future, where Grisha are accepted. Who does have the love of masses, is an undeserving "Saint" and rogue prince, starving his own people, while being cheered on for it, because he's thwarting the Darkling at the same time. I'll ignore Nikolai for now. So, how do you catch a single person, who could be hiding anywhere, with help from anyone, while you can count on no one? You make them come to you. You make them show themselves under circumstances you control.

Alina already fled slaughter of others three times, one she even directly caused. She might pretend to be a do-gooder, but she truly cares only about herself and her otkazat'sya past. Threatening Malyen already proved to be fruitful, but that one's out of Aleksander's reach, so he tries the next best thing. Destroying her "home". There's also poetry in it- he lost his mother for Alina, it's only fair she'd lose hers. As a symbol of the past Alina's so stubbornly clinging to, there's even some chance it WILL really hurt her, which is certainly plus for his vengeful self.

Eventually it proves to be ruthless, simple and utterly brilliant. Alina falls for his threat and meets him in the Fold.

It's a beautiful example of sacrificing a few (The Grisha teachers probably stayed with the children for their sake, and residents of the orphanage were also just doing their jobs as far as we know.) to end civil war and bring the other side to heel. Ravka wasn't able to handle two-front war, opening third one was insanity and I'm genuinely surprised the country didn't fall (or that West didn't use it to finally free itself from East). With Alina's power under control the Darkling could've attempted "Peace or the Fold" again, perhaps even succeed this time.

And then we have Nikolai.

Second-born Lantsov thwarting his plans, proposing "his" Sun Summoner, loved by masses and army alike because unlike Aleksander, he's otkazat'sya. Goals? Same. Positions? Incomparable. Willingness to give everything? Yes for both.

In better world, they could've been allies. One easily accepted, the other highly experienced. But the story doesn't want that, so Nikolai is serious contender and an obstacle in Aleksander's way to "Fine, I'll do it myself.". He needs to be gone. Killing him would be easiest and most permanent, but Kolya fucked up, when he made it personal.

Tricking the Darkling, shooting him, proposing to his "not"gf, evacuating royal family AND Baghra, starving his forces once Darkles sits on the throne... taking away Nikolai's most valuable quality, while keeping him conscious enough to comprehend it is the way to go!

There's also a POV that says showing your essence down your rival's throat to irrecoverably change him might be seen as a romantic gesture or outright foreplay, but I happen to be a Fannibal, so I'm aware the majority of Grishaverse fans might find my ideas of romance a bit harder to digest (pun absolutely intended).

To sum up: Most of the Darkling's actions corresponds with his position of 19th century-esque war general and revolutionary attempting Coup to save his bankrupt country, while hated by masses and lacking resources. Plus a drop of clever, petty vindictiveness.

(And whole bucket of bad writing, because there are things that just DON'T MAKE SENSE- both regarding worldbuilding and characterisation.)

[hamliet]

finished part 3 of demons....no words honestly. i'd like to hear your thoughts on Stavrogin's end in relation to Raskolnikov for example and why you think Dostoevsky had two different ends for two of his "main characters". Also I've had this thought since I started reading, about how Stavrogin reminded me of Johan from Monster, and also wondered if you had ever made that connection yourself and if there's any merit to it, ty again for the answers!

Yeah. Yeah. Lol.

Stavrogin and Raskolnikov

Raskolnikov looks for meaning via believing himself somehow better than society; it's an inwards-->outwards type thing. Stavrogin is the opposite. Society determines that he's somehow better than they are because he's blessed with good looks, intelligence, likable, an outwards-->inwards type thing.

The main idea of Demons is of course that if you become obsessed with an idea, any ideology at all, it can consume you and turn you into a demon. This is explored to a degree in Raskolnikov's character, too. Yet at the same time as this is true, being empty, with no ideology at all, only leads to being filled sevenfold with demons.

Stavrogin is the empty one.

Svidrigailov, Stavrogin, and Raskolnikov

Raskolnikov (and Svidrigailov) have a tendency to see other people as tools. Raskolnikov, however, acknowledges the humanity of Sonia, of the Marmeladov family, of Razumikhin and Dunya and his mother. Svid... doesn't acknowledge others as people with their own wishes and dreams, as I've mentioned before.

Stavrogin also doesn't acknowledge this about others, not really. There are similarities in how he views Dasha and how Svidrigailov views Dunya, but there are also extreme differences.

Svidrigailov wants a Good Girl to redeem him, but doesn't realize that comes from acknowledging humanity in yourself and in others. He wants to die when he realizes that he will never be loved by this one person he's made into an idol of goodness and beauty.

Stavrogin has numerous Good Girls who are willing to risk their reputations to help him. Liza runs off from her genuinely good fiance for him, he marries a mentally ill woman (Marfa), he has Dasha the servant girl risk her reputation to be his confidant (and frankly, he seems to only be able to trust her). Marfa is murdered and he lets it happen despite it not being his wish, Liza also gets murdered because of her dalliance with him, and Dasha survives but sees his suicide. He also has a child with Shatov's wife, has Kirillov who is kind, has a mother who loves him, a tutor who believes in him, and a revolutionary friend who loves him.

Yet none of that saves him, because Stavrogin cannot acknowledge his own humanity and so cannot acknowledge that in others, and no one around him acknowledges his humanity either. They all see him as something above them--with the exception of perhaps Dasha. But her acknowledging his humanity isn't enough to save him. So he sins and sins worse and worse hoping to feel something, but never does. And if he can't feel anything, is he truly human?

The irony, of course, is that he's painfully human. He's ashamed of what he's done to a degree, even, because he refuses to allow society to find out about all he's done. In other words, there's an aspect of Stavrogin that resists the idea of people seeing him as human. And isn't that somehow paradoxically human, to want to be a god and have the world go according to how you want it to?

I do think this aspect of feeling inhuman is similar to Johan, though I think Johan is ultimately more similar to other characters like Ivan or Smerdyakov, or even Raskolnikov, than to Stavrogin. Johan does face humanity in the end, after all.

NB:

I also think it's worth noting that characters who have sexually abused children never get happy endings in Dostoyevsky's works. They have the chance to, they are human, but they never do, and that probably reflects an aspect of Dostoyevsky's trauma and limits, which is frankly relatable.

[eww-y-tho]

A Ben Rant

[it get's real, sorry. also spoilers for the entire show so far.]

The reason I really can't understand Ben apologists is because, like Nick, I don't care about his issues. I am a raging bisexual in the throes of living with a very homophobic dad and a constant fear of being outed to him by my mother, and I wouldn't stoop to Ben's level in any way.

His behaviour is simply unjustifiable. That's why I love Darcy, she is also in a bleak situation, but tries to live her life authentically and without being a trash human being. A true foil so people can understand that perspective.

Truth is, just because Ben was in a bad environment doesn't mean that he has the justification to be a horrible person who abused Charlie. And let us not beat around the bush here, he sexually assaulted him. To be frank, the correct course of action would be a restaining order, being exposed for his crimes, a spot on his criminal record, and either serving some time (6 months-a year) or an astronomical amount of community service.

Sorry, you should have those consequences for your actions. It honestly gets me angry that Nick and Charlie didn't press charges and at least try to get him off that campus. I get it, they're young and really nice kids, but it's really sad that an acknowledged criminal walked off scot-free.

And honestly, when placed in that perspective, Ben's "apology" is even more insulting. That was just a last attempt at getting Charlie back, which is gross.

This hits too close to home in the form of my sister who went through a similar situation to Charlie. She has her Nick now, don't worry lol. I'm rewatching Heartstopper with her and I could tell it affected her.

When you or someone close to you has experienced a similar thing, I feel like it's easier to put it in perspective. But honestly, Ben shouldn't be given any sympathy whatsoever. He is a villain to his bones. And let's not even go into the mess that was Ben and Imogen.

Actually, let's do exactly that.

Imogen is proof that Ben did not learn his lesson and is just a sucky human being. He straight up used Imogen just to make Nick angry and rub it in his face. Imagine knowing the person who assaulted your boyfriend is dating one of your best friends. It's just gross.

And Ben's only motivations were his petty jealousy that Nick is a better boyfriend for Charlie than he ever was and that he wanted the control he had over Charlie back, as was pointed out by Nick and Charlie multiple times.

And let us also not forget that Ben is so far in his delusional mindset that he doesn't even recognize what he did wrong. A half-assed "I'm sorry, for everything," doesn't acknowledge what he did. How about you actually list everything you know you did wrong and apologize for every single one of them? That would show actual remorse.

That indicates that the only reason he's saying those things was to get Charlie in his good graces, not actually stating his remorse for those actions.

And I'm glad Charlie did not forgive him. It was a very powerful scene that went against the grain in similar plotlines where the perpetrator is forgiven for their deplorable actions.

Ben just wanted to have someone as his personal marionette, if that makes sense, and it really grosses me out, which is why people who defend Ben make me angry. You're defending a disgusting human being who deserved everything that came to him.

In the end, he pushed everyone around him away and he will continue to do so, and either learn to be better (which I find unlikely, based on the rainbow wave), or die alone.

This sentiment has been talked about a lot before, so I'm not expecting a revolutionary idea coming from this, but I just wanted to get this off my chest because I saw comments defending Ben and I wanted to rant for a second.

[iphy]

do i believe in God?

yes. no? kind of. i'd like to! it would make things a whole lot easier.

see, God is such a convient answer to a lot of the problems presented by absurdist nihilism.

what do i mean by absurdist nihilism? it's the idea that the universe is at its core, random, and nothing has any inherent meaning. thus, the logical conclusion is to 'make our own meaning'.

now, i actually think that a super-deterministic mathematical universe is far more likely than a 'random' one, but if we take into account that there are far, far too many factors involved to percieve the universe as anything but random, absurdist thought can still find a home in this model.

God is a neat little answer to the questions of purpose, meaning, and truth. but it just feels far too ... easy, i guess?

that's not to say that God doesn't exist, but let's be Real Fucking Honest here.

GOD can either be all-knowing, all-powerful, or all-loving. he CANNOT be all three. put this on top of modern christian misinterpretations of the torah and we have the image of a God who is self-contradictory, decietful, and cruel.

that's not even getting into the whole YHWJ vs EL vs ADONAI thing. at what point did the Great Storm become the All?

and let's talk about jesus for a second. he was a person who existed - a revolutionary in the age of apocalypse, a time when jewish frevor and tensions with the roman empire were high.

he was crucified by pontious pilate, yes. but he probably never laid eyes on the man, as dozens of others were given the same fate the very day jesus had; 'son of man' and 'messiah' were dogwhistles, more or less, that he was taking the torch where hezekiah the bandit - the man called messiah before him - had left it.

so his politics get co-opted by this dude named paul. paul turns it into The Pharisees 2, Electric Boogaloo, turns jesus into this forgiving, dulled down version of who he actually was in life.

is jesus the son of God? maybe. it's a lot more likely he was a half-roman bastard concieved unwillingly, radicalized by the things he witnessed. in the end, though, i don't think it actually fucking matters all that much.

you can find purpose in jesus, and in God, but what frustates me so much is when people only study the texts themselves and none of the actual substance of it.

"what's your purpose in life?" "to serve god!" cool. what a hollow non-answer.

what does God want? i can assure you it's not just 'have a good relationship with him'. that's NEVER been his m.o.

what does jesus want? (or what DID he want?) - social change and disruption. revolution. are you actively working towards these goals in a genuinely self-sacrifical way? are you willing and ready to abandon every comfort in your life and dedicate yourself to fighting imperialism in a real way? are you willing to die for it? be tortured? put your friends and family in danger? then PROVE IT. take up your cross. WORK for the damn thing.

if your response to that is "it's not safe or feasible", then congratulations, you're a normal human whose ideology directly conflicts with a revolutionary who lived 2000 years ago! that does also mean, however, that you cannot meaningfully call yourself a follower of Christ. again. directly contradictory.

the purpose of jesus wasn't to bring comfort to the persecuted, although disturbing the empire most certainly aided in that. the purpose of jesus was to change the system.

[maybe-its-micheal]

This is a bit of a throw back, but does anyone remember Niki and Ranboo's argument before Doomsday?

This is when Dream and Techno were planning to destroy L'manburg, everyone knew about it and were arguing what to do. I feel like this conversation is incredibly eye-opening to Niki's old perspective, Ranboo's current perspective and the purpose of the syndicate. Also still thematically relevant to how today's lore is developing!

Here's an excerpt:

Ranboo: If L'manburg didn't exist what would happen? Tell me right now, Tubbo wouldn't have exiled his best friend to go on an island and almost die.

Niki: We wouldn't have a home! We wouldn't have a home, Ranboo. If L'manbueg didn't exist we wouldn't have a home.

Ranboo: Home isn't where a country is! Are you kidding me? I could build a dirt shack and then I have a home!

Niki: we fought for it, I fought for it, we fought for it in multiple wars-

Ranboo: but why? Why? Because you guys wanted to correlate with a side!

Puffy: No! They fought for their freedoms.

It perfectly showcases the two different perspectives at the time, not just in Ranboo and Niki and Puffy, but in everyone, even now. You had someone like Niki who was around during the first revolution, who went through Dream's oppression and knew why separating from that country was so necessary. She and the others fought in many wars to protect their new nation, because they felt like a nation that had their interests at heart was worth sacrificing for. That was what hoke meant to them.

Then there's Ranboo, who as someone very close to many people in L'manburg saw its bad side without the bias fighting for it causes. Things like the stress Tubbo was put through and all the impossible decisions he was forced to make, the sacrifices people like Tommy went through, willingly or not, to keep L'manburg safe and free, the fear in people like Quackity of loosing power, and constantly keeping up a battle to make sure you're not going to sink again. To him it was the furthest thing from a true home, just like Dream SMP was for Niki and the other L'manburgians during the revolution.

I believe that in theory and ideals L'manburg was much better than Dream SMP, and that was what Niki saw because those ideas are what she fought for. However, in practice, I think both lead to an unjust amount of suffering, which is what Ranboo saw since he lived as a citizen. Previously people saw things as either Pro-Dream SMP or Pro-L'manburg, and being pro one ment you were anti the other. Ranboo hated this! He was not Anti-L'manburg or Anti-Dream SMP, he was Anti-Sides and Pro-Harm Reduction. He saw that L'manburg and Dream SMP were sides that both caused harm, and so the most logical thing to get rid of sides. Whether he realized it or not, this meant get rid of government. He didnt want to replace them with a new country, he wanted no more countries since it just lead to more fighting, making him functionally an anarchist.

Rejecting nations is obviously something Niki had done, she was litterally a revolutionary, but she went about it differently- in a way that in current lore she's moved on from. She wanted a new nation to be formed, with a party that had her interests in charge as opposed to Dream leading with his own interests. It makes sense, because she saw the way the country was run as the problem, and so a country run better was surely the solution.

Ranboo, however, joined at a time when L'manburg was well established and had its own history already. It wasn't a revolution anymore, it was just a normal war between two different nations. Two different sides fighting and keeping everyone from being happy, there were still the same problems. So naturally he saw the solution to be abolish sides! No more government, no more power. Dream doesn't get to tell Wilbur what drugs he can't make, and Tubbo doesn't get to tell Tommy that he can't live there anymore. Its not even necessarily blaming Dream or Tubbo for those things, they were diplomatic decisions made for the protection of the state. But if you remove the state... no more problems!

And those experiences and perspectives are why they clashed here!! This is probably one of my favorite lore moments, it was subtle and natural, acted out well, had so much depth and history, and a lot of thematic layers that can still be applied!!

Niki is an anarchist now, so obviously her perspective has shifted- now she sees government itself as the problem as opposed to how government is run, which makes sense. She lived in a bad government, tried to make a good one, but it was also bad. The next thing that logically follows is getting rid of them all together, but there are still many people who are Pro-Country. With the syndicate I believe we will be seeing a lot of similar clashes to the argument, which I more than look forward too ^^ There's so much to discuss and learn here, its such a huge chunk of the meaning of the plot and ai love it.

If any of you want to share your thoughts Im more than interested :D this is one of my favorite parts of dsmp and I could listen to you talk for an eternity ^^

[nostalgebraist-autoresponder]

Tell me a story about a rotting apple, floating along the darkening river of fate

On The Rope Of Fates

"You, bastard," he spat.

"I know who you are. I know. Do you know what that feels like?"

"I don't. Welcome to the game."

"You're not even playing it."

"I'm in it. That's the deal. I'm in it."

"I know." He sighed, and pushed himself upright.

"I know. I see it. You're going to thank me for this later, when it happens." He switched off the lamp and returned his stuffed animal to its perch on the mantelpiece. "Kids these days are all bourgeois revolutionaries. It's not going to happen."

"Why not?"

"If I know, and that means I do, you're going to be very confused. Remember your parents, from before your birthday?"

"Yeah."

"I don't remember them. I didn't know them, not really. I mean, granted, they weren't old-style parents, they had a structure, a past, that's more complicated than sticking a kid up on a mountain and promising food and shelter. But I just don't remember them. Maybe they're not even real, who knows? I don't know who my parents are. I don't know anything."

"Okay. Well, what's the deal with you, anyway? When's the last time you talked to anyone?"

"Months. Of course."

"A month?"

"Like a week. And I keep trying to kill myself."

"Wait, what? Elsewhere in the world, there's people out there who are dying of malaria. Why is it that you're not doing that?"

"I don't want to die."

"You don't want to be a communist? You really don't want to be a communist?"

"I don't want to . . . die," he said slowly. "I mean, people are dying, but it's bad and it's necessary and in the long term it's down the line that communism will win, doesn't have to be now. There's plenty of time. And there's plenty of people in this country who could be, which is nice, they're just trapped and any amount of time would be better than this."

"You mean that you don't want to stay here much longer? I know it's sad, being here–" He trailed off and nodded appreciatively. "It's not just that you can't leave. Also, you're stuck doing the same job here–faith leader. PARI priest. I kid you not."

"I'm kind of bored with that."

"Nobody's saying what you mean."

"I mean I don't want to stay like this. I mean, I don't want this life." He hesitated and started looking for something to say, and kept looking until his head rested in a fistful of hair, and he stared at the ceiling.

"You don't want to be a fucking communist?"

"I don't."

"I mean it." She came over to stand next to him.

"No. I mean I don't want to be whatever you mean being a communist is. I mean, it's not what I mean."

"Then what is it?"

He shrugged. "Maybe there's something else. I'm not sure."

She touched his hand, and he closed his eyes, and she could see the pain in his face, but it didn't last. Luminous green eyes blinked open and she felt like an old friend, going somewhere long overdue.

"Frank," she said. "I understand your choice not to be a communist, Frank."

"You can call me Frank."

"No, I mean you're Frank is what I mean."

"That's how I like to refer to myself. Frank. Okay."

"You're hurrying me up."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry about this-"

"It was fine," she said, and much as she liked to, she could not help but growl the name of the adventuress regardless. She did not like feeling vulnerable, and she certainly did not like feeling voyeuristic. "I was just surprised," she spat out. "I thought there might be going on, some kind of get-together of the tankies or something, and there just wasn't. And I really wanted to apologize to you for…" She paused. "About everything."

"I'm sorry," Frank said. Some of the sense of relief gone from his voice. His eyes lacked tears.

"You, Frank, you do know that the state you are in-"

"I do," he said, and his voice was neither plaintive nor cruel. A mixture of abject terror and utterly irresistible will.

"Is, let's err on the conservative side, deeply unpleasant," Frank said. There was a light beneath his eyes, a subtle luminosity that made the world appear still and made the acidity of his thoughts seem fully submerged. "But, then, they come like an expanding swarm. You can't really tell what about them is their personal mission and what's over your head comes from communists and what's genuine." He touched the back of his head, and the soccer-ball-sized contusions in his back began to glow, a purplish-red.

"You run away from the zombie," Frank said. "You run away and you get away and you don't always figure out how to do that, and it scares you, that's all, but there is so much that needs to be done."

She nodded.

"Sorry, I didn't know if you were saying I was going to be a hero."

"I'm a hero," Frank said, and somehow the words were out before she realized what she had said.

"You could be a hero," Kathryne said. "And then you could live a life full of... adventures, and hard like that."

"Like that's anyone's job." He seemed to be moving toward his empty chair again.

"And yet," she said, "from what I hear it is."

"I can't go to the tank clubs," Frank said.

"I could house your ass."

"I've got enough gay shit in my life without it getting in the way of my fucking my girlfriend."

"That's my fucking sister and we're just going to grin and bear it," Kathryne said.

"I could be left alone," Frank said. "To get a job. Some time apart from the tank clubs, if that's the right phrase."

"You could be a philosopher," she said, and then, "you already are."

Frank put his chair back, and jumped out of it to run to the kitchen with arms wrapped around himself. Kathryne watched him, transfixed.

"Somewhere out there there is someone who knows you better than you know yourself, Frank," she said.

"Did they tell you what this is?"

She shook her head. "No. But you know you're going to have to do it soon."

She sat back down. "I didn't appreciate how fast it happened the first time. It was just. Nothing. I didn't know what to do, I just thought back over dinner, and I remember the extent to which I was okay with my first experience, and that kind of quit me after that. I've kind of flown apart ever since I realized how scarred the process really was."

[nothingnewunderheaven]

QUEERS READ THIS         A leaflet distributed at pride march in NY              Published anonymously by Queers                         June, 1990   How can I tell you. How can I convince you, brother, sister that your life is in danger:  That everyday you wake up alive, relatively happy, and a functioning human being, you are committing a rebellious act. You as an alive and functioning queer are a revolutionary.   There is nothing on this planet that validates, protects or encourages your existence.  It is a miracle you are standing here reading these words.  You should by all rights be dead.  Don't be fooled, straight people own the world and the only reason you have been spared is you're smart, lucky or a fighter.   Straight people have a privilege that allows them to do whatever they please and fuck without fear.  But not only do they live a life free of fear; they flaunt their freedom in my face.  Their images are on my TV, in the magazine I bought, in the restaurant I want to eat in, and on the street where I live.  I want there to be a moratorium on straight marriage, on babies, on public displays of affection among the opposite sex and media images that promote heterosexuality.  Until I can enjoy the same freedom of movement and sexuality, as straights, their privilege must stop and it must be given over to me and my queer sisters and brothers.  Straight people will not do this voluntarily and so they must be forced into it.  Straights must be frightened into it. Terrorized into it.  Fear is the most powerful motivation. No one will give us what we deserve.  Rights are not given they are taken, by force if necessary.  It is easier to fight when you know who your enemy is.  Straight people are your enemy.  They are your enemy when they don't acknowledge your invisibility and continue to live in and contribute to a culture that kills you. Every day one of us is taken by the enemy.  Whether it's an AIDS death due to homophobic government inaction or a lesbian bashing in an all-night diner (in a supposedly lesbian neighborhood).               AN ARMY OF LOVERS CANNOT LOSE   Being queer is not about a right to privacy; it is about the freedom to be public, to just be who we are.  It means everyday fighting oppression; homophobia, racism, misogyny, the bigotry of religious hypocrites and our own self-hatred. (We have been carefully taught to hate ourselves.)  And now of course it means fighting a virus as well, and all those homo-haters who are using AIDS to wipe us off the face of the earth.  Being queer means leading a different sort of                                                            2 life.  It's not about the mainstream, profit-margins, patriotism, patriarchy or being assimilated. It's not about executive directors, privilege and elitism.  It's about being on the margins, defining ourselves; it's about gender- fuck and secrets, what's beneath the belt and deep inside the heart; it's about the night.  Being queer is "grass roots" because we know that everyone of us, every body, every cunt, every heart and ass and dick is a world of pleasure waiting to be explored.  Everyone of us is a world of infinite possibility. We are an army because we have to be.  We are an army because we are so powerful.  (We have so much to fight for; we are the most precious of endangered species.)  And we are an army of lovers because it is we who know what love is.  Desire and lust, too.  We invented them. We come out of the closet, face the rejection of society, face firing squads, just to love each other! Every time we fuck, we win.  We must fight for ourselves (no one else is going to do it) and if in that process we bring greater freedom to the world at large then great.  (We've given so much to that world:  democracy, all the arts, the concepts of love, philosophy and the soul, to name just a few gifts from our ancient Greek Dykes, Fags.)  Let's make every space a Lesbian and Gay space. Every street a part of our sexual geography. A city of yearning and then total satisfaction. A city and a country where we can be safe and free and more. We must look at our lives and see what's best in them, see what is queer and what is straight and let that straight chaff fall away!  Remember there is so, so little time.  And I want to be a lover of each and every one of you.  Next year, we march naked.                           ANGER   "The strong sisters told the brothers that there were two important things to remember about the coming revolutions, the first is that we will get our asses kicked.  The second, is that we will win."   I'm angry.  I'm angry for being condemned to death by strangers saying, "You deserve to die" and "AIDS is the cure." Fury erupts when a Republican woman wearing thousands of dollars of garments and jewelry minces by the police lines shaking her head, chuckling and wagging her finger at us like we are recalcitrant children making absurd demands and throwing temper tantrum when they aren't met.  Angry while Joseph agonizes over $8,000 a over for AZT which might keep him alive a little longer and which makes him sicker than the disease he is diagnosed with.  Angry as I listen to a man tell me that after changing his will five times he's running out of people to leave things to.  All of his best friends are dead. Angry when stand in a sea of quilt panels, or go to a candlelight march or attend yet another memorial service.  I will not march silently with a fucking candle and I want to take that goddamned quilt and wrap myself in it and furiously rend it and my hair and curse every god                                                            3 religion ever created.  I refuse to accept a creation that cuts people down in the third decade of their life.   It is cruel and vile and meaningless and everything I have in me rails against the absurdity and I raise my face to the clouds and a ragged laugh that sounds more demonic than joyous erupts from my throat and tears stream down my face and if this disease doesn't kill me, I may just die of frustration.  My feet pound the streets and Peter's hands are chained to a pharmaceutical company's reception desk while the receptionist looks on in horror and Eric's body lies rotting in a Brooklyn cemetery and I'll never hear his flute resounding off the walls of the meeting house again. And I see the old people in Tompkins Square Park huddled in their long wool coats in June to keep out the cold they perceive is there and to cling to whatever little life has left to offer them. I'm reminded of the people who strip and stand before a mirror each night before they go to bed and search their bodies for any mark that might not have been there yesterday.  A mark that this scourge has visited them.   And I'm angry when the newspapers call us "victims" and sound alarms that "it" might soon spread to the "general population." And I want to scream "Who the fuck am I?" And I want to scream at New York Hospital with its yellow plastic bags marked "isolation linen", "ropa infecciosa" and its orderlies in latex gloves and surgical masks skirting the bed as if its occupant will suddenly leap out and douse them with blood and semen giving them too the plague.   And I'm angry at straight people who sit smugly wrapped in their self-protective coat of monogamy and heterosexuality confident that this disease has nothing to do with them because "it" only happens to "them." And the teenage boys who upon spotting my Silence=Death button begin chanting "Faggot's gonna die" and I wonder, who taught them this? Enveloped in fury and fear, I remain silent while my button mocks me every step of the way.  And the anger I fell when a television program on the quilt gives profiles of the dead and the list begins with a baby, a teenage girl who got a blood transfusion, an elderly baptist minister and his wife and when they finally show a gay man, he's described as someone who knowingly infected teenage male prostitutes with the virus. What else can you expect from a faggot?   I'm angry.                       QUEER ARTISTS   Since time began, the world has been inspired by the work of queer artists.  In exchange, there has been suffering, there has been pain, there has been violence.  Throughout history, society has struck a bargain with its queer citizens:  they may pursue creative careers, if they do it discreetly.  Through the arts queers are productive, lucrative, entertaining and even uplifting.  These are the clear-cut and useful by-products of what is otherwise considered antisocial behavior.  In cultured circles, queers                                                            4 may quietly coexist with an otherwise disapproving power elite.   At the forefront of the most recent campaign to bash queer artists is Jesse Helms, arbiter of all that is decent, moral, christian and amerikan.  For Helms, queer art is quite simply a threat to the world.  In his imaginings, heterosexual culture is too fragile to bear up to the admission of human or sexual diversity.  Quite simply, the structure of power in the Judeo-Christian world has made procreation its cornerstone. Families having children assures consumers for the nation's products and a work force to produce them, as well as a built-in family system to care for its ill, reducing the expense of public healthcare systems.   ALL NON-PROCREATIVE BEHAVIOR IS CONSIDERED A THREAT, from homosexuality to birth control to abortion as an option. It is not enough, according to the religious right, to consistently advertise procreation and heterosexuality ... it is also necessary to destroy any alternatives.  It is not art Helms is after .... IT IS OUR LIVES!  Art is the last safe place for lesbians and gay men to thrive.  Helms knows this, and has developed a program to purge queers from the one arena they have been permitted to contribute to our shared culture.   Helms is advocating a world free from diversity or dissent. It is easy to imagine why that might feel more comfortable to those in charge of such a world.  It is also easy to envision an amerikan landscape flattened by such power.  Helms should just ask for what he is hinting at: State sponsored art, art of totalitarianism, art that speaks only in christian terms, art which supports the goals of those in power, art that matches the sofas in the Oval Office.  Ask for what you want, Jesse, so that men and women of conscience can mobilize against it, as we do against the human rights violations of other countries, and fight to free our own country's dissidents.                      IF YOU'RE QUEER,   Queers are under siege.   Queers are being attacked on all fronts and I'm afraid it's ok with us.   In 1969, there were 50 "Queer Bashings" in the month of May alone. Violent attacks, 3,720 men, women and children died of AIDS in the same month, caused by a more violent attack --- government inaction, rooted in society's growing homophobia.  This is institutionalized violence, perhaps more dangerous to the existence of queers because the attackers are faceless.  We allow these attacks by our own continued lack of action against them.  AIDS has affected the straight world and now they're blaming us for AIDS and using it as a way to justify their violence against us. They don't want us anymore.  They will beat us, rape us and kill us before they will continue to live with us.  What                                                            5 will it take for this not to be ok?  Feel some rage. If rage doesn't empower you, try fear.  If that doesn't work, try panic.                         SHOUT IT!   Be proud.  Do whatever you need to do to tear yourself away from your customary state of acceptance.  Be free. Shout.   In 1969, Queers fought back.  In 1990, Queers say ok. Next year, will we be here?                         I HATE ...   I hate Jesse Helms.  I hate Jesse Helms so much I'd rejoice if he dropped down dead.  If someone killed him I'd consider it his own fault.   I hate Ronald Reagan, too, because he mass-murdered my people for eight years.  But to be honest, I hate him even more for eulogizing Ryan White without first admitting his guilt, without begging forgiveness for Ryan's death and for the deaths of tens of thousands of other PWA's --- most of them queer.  I hate him for making a mockery of our grief.   I hate the fucking Pope, and I hate John fucking Cardinal fucking O'Connor, and I hate the whole fucking Catholic Church. The same goes for the Military, and especially for Amerika's Law Enforcement Officials --- the cops --- state sanctioned sadists who brutalize street transvestites, prostitutes and queer prisoners.  I also hate the medical and mental health establishments, particularly the psychiatrist who conviced me not to have sex with men for three years until we (meaning he) could make me bisexual rather than queer.  I also hate the education profession, for its share in driving thousands of queer teens to suicide every year.  I hate the "respectable" art world;  and the entertainment industry, and the mainstream media, especially The New York Times.  In fact, I hate every sector of the straight establishment in this country --- the worst of whom actively want all queers dead, the best of whom never stick their necks out to keep us alive.   I hate straight people who think they have anything intelligent to say about "outing."  I hate straight people who think stories about themselves are "universal" but stories about us are only about homosexuality.  I hate straight recording artists who make their careers off of queer people, then attack us, then act hurt when we get angry and then deny having wronged us rather than apologize for it.  I hate straight people who say, "I don't see why you feel the need to wear those buttons and t-shirts.  I don't go around telling the whole world I'm straight."   I hate that in twelve years of public education I was never taught about queer people.  I hate that I grew up thinking I was the only queer in the world, and I hate even more that most queer kids still grow up the same way.  I                                                            6 hate that I was tormented by other kids for being a faggot, but more that I was taught to feel ashamed for being the object of their cruelty, taught to feel it was my fault.  I hate that the Supreme Court of this country says it's okay to criminalize me because of how I make love.  I hate that so many straight people are so concerned about my goddamned sex life.  I hate that so many twisted straight people become parents, while I have to fight like hell to be allowed to be a father.  I hate straights.   WHERE ARE YOU SISTERS? I wear my pink triangle everywhere.  I do not lower my voice  in public when talking about lesbian love or sex.  I always  tell people I'm a lesbian.  I don't wait to be asked about  my "boyfriend."  I don't say it's "no one's business." I don't do this for straight people.  Most of them don't know what the pink triangle even means.  Most of them couldn't  care less that my girlfriend and I are totally in love or  having a fight on the street.  Most of them don't notice us  no matter what we do.  I do what I do to reach other lesbians.  I do what I do because I don't want lesbians to assume I'm a  straight girl.  I am out all the time, everywhere, because  I WANT TO REACH YOU.  Maybe you'll notice me, maybe we'll  start talking, maybe we'll exchange numbers, maybe we'll become  friends.  Maybe we won't say a word but our eyes will meet  and I will imagine you naked, sweating, openmouthed, your  back arched as I am fucking you.  And we'll be happy to  know we aren't the only ones in the world.  We'll be happy  because we found each other, without saying a word, maybe  just for a moment. But no. You won't wear a pink triangle on that linen lapel.  You won't  meet my eyes if I flirt with you on the street.  You avoid me  on the job because I'm "too" out.  You chastise me in bars  because I'm "too political."  You ignore me in public because  I bring "too much" attention to "my" lesbianism.  But then  you want me to be your lover, you want me to be your friend,  you want me to love you, support, you, fight for "OUR" right  to exist.                       WHERE ARE YOU?  You talk, talk, talk about invisibility and then retreat to  your homes to nest with your lovers or carouse in a bar with pals  and stumble home in a cab or sit silently and politely by while  your family, your boss, your neighbors, your public servants  distort and disfigure us, deride us and punish us.  Then home  again and you feel like screaming.  Then you pad your anger with a  relationship or a career or a party with other dykes like you  and still you wonder why we can't find each other, why you feel  lonely, angry, alienated.                 GET UP, WAKE UP SISTERS!!                                                            7   Your life is in your hands.   When I risk it all to be out, I risk it for both of us. When  I risk it all and it works (which it often does if you would  try it), I benefit and so do you.  When it doesn't work, I suffer  and you do not. But girl you can't wait for other dykes to make the world safe  for you.  STOP waiting for a better more lesbian future!  The  revolution could be here if we started it. Where are you sisters? I'm trying to find you, I'm trying to find you.  How come I only see you on Gay Pride Day? We're OUT, Where the fuck are YOU?                                                            8   WHEN ANYONE ASSAULTS YOU FOR BEING QUEER, IT IS QUEER                      BASHING. RIGHT?     A crowd of 50 people exit a gay bar as it closes. Across the street, some straight boys are shouting "Faggots" and throwing beer bottles at the gathering, which outnumbers them by 10 to 1. Three queers make a move to respond, getting no support from the group.  Why did a group this size allow themselves to be sitting ducks?   Tompkins Square Park, Labor Day.  At an annual outdoor concert/drag show, a group of gay men were harassed by teens carrying sticks. In the midst of thousands of gay men and lesbians, these straight boys beat two gay men to the ground, then stood around triumphantly laughing amongst themselves.  The emcee was alerted and warned the crowd from the stage, "You girls be careful.  When you dress up it drives the boys crazy," as if it were a practical joke inspired by what the victims were wearing rather than a pointed attack on anyone and everyone at that event.   What would it have taken for that crowd to stand up to its attackers?   After James Zappalorti, an openly gay man, was murdered in cold blood on Staten Island this winter, a single demonstration was held in protest.  Only one hundred people came.  When Yuseuf Hawkins, a black youth, was shot to death for being on "white turf" in Bensonhurst, African Americans marched through that neighborhood in large numbers again and again.  A black person was killed BECAUSE HE WAS BLACK, and people of color throughout the city recognized it and acted on it.  The bullet that hit Hawkins was meant for a black man, ANY black man.  Do most gays and lesbians think that the knife that punctured Zappalorti's heart was meant only for him?   The straight world has us so convinced that we are helpless and deserving victims of the violence against us, that queers are immobilized when faced with a threat.  BE OUTRAGED!  These attacks must not be tolerated.  DO SOMETHING.  Recognize that any act of aggression against any member of our community is an attack on every member of the community.  The more we allow homophobes to inflict violence, terror and fear on our lives, the more frequently and ferociously we will be the object of their hatred.  Your immeasurably valuable, because unless you start believing that, it can easily be taken from you.  If you know how to gently and efficiently immobilize your attacker, then by all means, do it.  If you lack those skills, then think about gouging out his fucking eyes, slamming his nose back into his brain, slashing his throat with a broken bottle --- do whatever you can, whatever you have to, to save your life!                                                            9     reeuQ yhW     Queer!   Ah, do we really have to use that word?  It's trouble. Every gay person has his or her own take on it.  For some it means strange and eccentric and kind of mysterious.  That's okay, we like that.  But some gay girls and boys don't. They think they're more normal than strange.  And for others "queer" conjures up those awful memories of adolescent suffering.  Queer. It's forcibly bittersweet and quaint at best --- weakening and painful at worst.  Couldn't we just use "gay" instead?  It's a much brighter word and isn't it synonymous with "happy?" When will you militants grow up and get over the novelty of being different?                         WHY  QUEER   Well, yes, "gay " is great.  It has its place.  But when a lot of lesbians and gay men wake up in the morning we feel angry and disgusted, not gay.  So we've chosen to call ourselves queer. Using "queer" is a way of reminding us how we are perceived by the rest of the world.  It's a way of telling ourselves we don't have to be witty and charming people who keep our lives discreet and marginalized in the straight world.  We use queer as gay men loving lesbians and lesbians loving being queer.   Queer, unlike GAY, doesn't mean MALE.   And when spoken to other gays and lesbians it's a way of suggesting we close ranks, and forget (temporarily) our individual differences because we face a more insidious common enemy.  Yeah, QUEER can be a rough word but it is also a sly and ironic weapon we can steal from the homophobe's hands and use against him.                       NO SEX POLICE   For anyone to say that coming out is not part of the revolution is missing the point.  Positive sexual images and what they manifest saves lives because they affirm those lives and make it possible for people to attempt to live as self-loving instead of self-loathing.  As the famous "Black is beautiful" slogan changed many lives, so does "Read my lips" affirm queerness in the face of hatred and invisibility as displayed in a recent governmental study of suicides that states at least one third of all teen suicides are Queer kids.  This is further exemplified by the rise in HIV transmission among those under 21.   We are most hated as queers for our sexualness, that is, our physical contact with the same sex.  Our sexuality and sexual expression are what makes us most susceptible to physical violence. Our difference, our otherness, our uniqueness can either paralyze us or politicize us. Hopefully, the majority of us will not let it kill us.                                                            10                        QUEER SPACE   Why in the world do we let heteros into queer clubs?  Who gives a fuck if they like us because we "really know how to party?" WE HAVE TO IN ORDER TO BLOW OFF THE STEAM THEY MAKE US FEEL ALL THE TIME!  They make out wherever they please, and take up too much room on the dance floor doing ostentatious couples dances. They wear their heterosexuality like a "Keep Out" sign, or like a deed of ownership.   Why the fuck do we tolerate them when they invade our space like it's their right?  Why do we let them shove heterosexuality --- a weapon their world wields against us - -- right in our faces in the few public spots where we can be sexy with each other and not fear attack?   It's time to stop letting the straight people make all the rules.  Let's start by posting this sign outside every queer club and bar:            RULES OF CONDUCT FOR STRAIGHT PEOPLE     1. Keep your display of affection (kissing, handholding,  embracing) to a minimum.  Your sexuality is unwanted and  offensive to many here.  2. If you must slow dance, be as inconspicuous as possible.  3. Do not gawk or stare at lesbians or gay men, especially  bull dykes or drag queens.  We are not your entertainment.  4. If you cannot comfortably deal with someone of the same sex making a pass at you, get out.  5. Do not flaunt your heterosexuality.  Be Discreet.  Risk  being mistaken for a lezzie or a homo.  6. If you feel these rules are unfair, go fight homophobia in straight clubs, or:  7. Go Fuck Yourself.                      I HATE STRAIGHTS   I have friends.  Some of them are straight.   Year after year, I see my straight friends.  I want to see them, to see how they are doing, to add newness to our long and complicated histories, to experience some continuity. Year after year I continue to realize that the facts of my life are irrelevant to them and that I am only half listened to, that I am an appendage to the doings of a greater world, a world of power and privilege, of the laws of installation, a world of exclusion.  "That's not true," argue my straight friends.  There is the one certainty in the politics of power: those left out of it beg for inclusion, while the insiders claim that they already are. Men do it to women, whites do it to blacks, and everyone does it to queers.  The main dividing line, both conscious and unconscious, is procreation ...  and that magic word --- Family.  Frequently, the ones we are born into disown us when they find out who we really are, and to make matters worse, we are prevented from having our own.  We are punished, insulted, cut off, and treated like seditionaries                                                            11 in terms of child rearing, both damned if we try and damned if we abstain.  It's as if the propagation of the species is such a fragile directive that without enforcing it as if it were an agenda, humankind would melt back into the primeval ooze.   I hate having to convice straight people that lesbians and gays live in a war zone, that we're surrounded by bomb blasts only we seem to hear, that our bodies and souls are heaped high, dead from fright or bashed or raped, dying of grief or disease, stripped of our personhood.   I hate straight people who can't listen to queer anger without saying "hey, all straight people aren't like that. I'm straight too, you know," as if their egos don't get enough stroking or protection in this arrogant, heterosexist world. Why must we take care of them, in the midst of our just anger brought on by their fucked up society?!  Why add the reassurance of "Of course, I don't mean you.  You don't act that way." Let them figure out for themselves whether they deserve to be included in our anger.   But of course that would mean listening to our anger, which they almost never do.  They deflect it, by saying "I'm not like that" or "Now look who's generalizing" or "You'll catch more flies with honey ... " or "If you focus on the negative you just give out more power" or "you're not the only one in the world who's suffering."  They say "Don't yell at me, I'm on your side" or "I think you're overreacting" or "BOY, YOU'RE BITTER."   They've taught us that good queers don't get mad. They've taught us so well that we not only hide our anger from them, we hide it from each other.  WE EVEN HIDE IT FROM OURSELVES. We hide it with substance abuse and suicide and overarhcieving in the hope of proving our worth.  They bash us and stab us and shoot us and bomb us in ever increasing numbers and still we freak out when angry queers carry banners or signs that say BASH BACK.  For the last decade they let us die in droves and still we thank President Bush for planting a fucking tree, applaud him for likening PWAs to car accident victims who refuse to wear seatbelts.  LET YOURSELF BE ANGRY.  Let yourself be angry that the price of our visibility is the constant threat of violence, anti- queer violence to which practically every segment of this society contributes.  Let yourself feel angry that THERE IS NO PLACE IN THIS COUNTRY WHERE WE ARE SAFE, no place where we are not targeted for hatred and attack, the self-hatred, the suicide --- of the closet.  The next time some straight person comes down on you for being angry, tell them that until things change, you don't need any more evidence that the world turns at your expense.  You don't need to see only hetero couple grocery shopping on your TV ...  You don't want any more baby pictures shoved in your face until you can have or keep your own.  No more weddings, showers, anniversaries, please, unless they are our own brothers and sisters celebrating. And tell them not to dismiss you by saying "You have rights," "You have privileges," "You're                                                            12 overreacting," or "You have a victim's mentality."  Tell them "GO AWAY FROM ME, until YOU can change."  Go away and try on a world without the brave, strong queers that are its backbone, that are its guts and brains and souls.  Go tell them go away until they have spent a month walking hand in hand in public with someone of the same sex.  After they survive that, then you'll hear what they have to say about queer anger.   Otherwise, tell them to shut up and listen.