#fbv reblog

[firebatvillain]

What a great and heartfelt writer you were, Bourdain. RIP

Under The Volcano

Americans love Mexican food. We consume nachos, tacos, burritos, tortas, enchiladas, tamales and anything resembling Mexican in enormous quantities. We love Mexican beverages, happily knocking back huge amounts of tequila, mezcal and Mexican beer every year. We love Mexican people—as we sure employ a lot of them. Despite our ridiculously hypocritical attitudes towards immigration, we demand that Mexicans cook a large percentage of the food we eat, grow the ingredients we need to make that food, clean our houses, mow our lawns, wash our dishes, look after our children. As any chef will tell you, our entire service economy—the restaurant business as we know it—in most American cities, would collapse overnight without Mexican workers. Some, of course, like to claim that Mexicans are “stealing American jobs”. But in two decades as a chef and employer, I never had ONE American kid walk in my door and apply for a dishwashing job, a porter’s position—or even a job as prep cook. Mexicans do much of the work in this country that Americans, provably, simply won’t do. 

We love Mexican drugs. Maybe not you personally, but “we”, as a nation, certainly consume titanic amounts of them—and go to extraordinary lengths and expense to acquire them. We love Mexican music, Mexican beaches, Mexican architecture, interior design, Mexican films.

So, why don’t we love Mexico?

We throw up our hands and shrug at what happens and what is happening just across the border. Maybe we are embarrassed. Mexico, after all, has always been there for us, to service our darkest needs and desires. Whether it’s dress up like fools and get pass-out drunk and sun burned on Spring break in Cancun, throw pesos at strippers in Tijuana, or get toasted on Mexican drugs, we are seldom on our best behavior in Mexico. They have seen many of us at our worst. They know our darkest desires.

In the service of our appetites, we spend billions and billions of dollars each year on Mexican drugs—while at the same time spending billions and billions more trying to prevent those drugs from reaching us. The effect on our society is everywhere to be seen. Whether it’s kids nodding off and overdosing in small town Vermont, gang violence in LA, burned out neighborhoods in Detroit— it’s there to see. What we don’t see, however, haven’t really noticed, and don’t seem to much care about, is the 80,000 dead—mostly innocent victims in Mexico, just in the past few years. 80,000 dead. 80,000 families who’ve been touched directly by the so-called “War On Drugs”.   

Mexico. Our brother from another mother. A country, with whom, like it or not, we are inexorably, deeply involved, in a close but often uncomfortable embrace. Look at it. It’s beautiful. It has some of the most ravishingly beautiful beaches on earth. Mountains, desert, jungle. Beautiful colonial architecture, a tragic, elegant, violent, ludicrous, heroic, lamentable, heartbreaking history. Mexican wine country rivals Tuscany for gorgeousness. Its archeological sites—the remnants of great empires, unrivaled anywhere. And as much as we think we know and love it,  we have barely scratched the surface of what Mexican food really is. It is NOT melted cheese over a tortilla chip. It is not simple, or easy. It is not simply ‘bro food’ halftime. It is in fact, old– older even than the great cuisines of Europe and often deeply complex, refined, subtle, and sophisticated. A true mole sauce, for instance, can take DAYS to make, a balance of freshly (always fresh) ingredients, painstakingly prepared by hand. It could be, should be, one of the most exciting cuisines on the planet. If we paid attention. The old school cooks of Oaxaca make some of the more difficult to make and nuanced sauces in gastronomy. And some of the new generation, many of whom have trained in the kitchens of America and Europe have returned home to take Mexican food to new and thrilling new heights.

It’s a country I feel particularly attached to and grateful for. In nearly 30 years of cooking professionally, just about every time I walked into a new kitchen, it was a Mexican guy who looked after me, had my back, showed me what was what, was there—and on the case—when the cooks more like me, with backgrounds like mine—ran away to go skiing or surfing—or simply “flaked.” I have been fortunate to track where some of those cooks come from, to go back home with them. To small towns populated mostly by women—where in the evening, families gather at the town’s phone kiosk, waiting for calls from their husbands, sons and brothers who have left to work in our kitchens in the cities of the North. I have been fortunate enough to see where that affinity for cooking comes from, to experience moms and grandmothers preparing many delicious things, with pride and real love, passing that food made by hand, passed from their hands to mine. 

In years of making television in Mexico, it’s one of the places we, as a crew, are happiest when the day’s work is over. We’ll gather round a street stall and order soft tacos with fresh, bright, delicious tasting salsas—drink cold Mexican beer, sip smoky mezcals, listen with moist eyes to sentimental songs from street musicians. We will look around and remark, for the hundredth time, what an extraordinary place this is.  

The received wisdom is that Mexico will never change. That is hopelessly corrupt, from top to bottom. That it is useless to resist—to care, to hope for a happier future. But there are heroes out there who refuse to go along. On this episode of PARTS UNKNOWN, we meet a few of them. People who are standing up against overwhelming odds, demanding accountability, demanding change—at great, even horrifying personal cost. This show is for them. 

[firebatvillain]

I.

When I was a kid, my aunt S (related to me via marriage - she married my uncle D) had always seemed kind of weird from my point of view. S is very traditional and she moved here from Korea as an adult and doesn't speak great English.

She also was very awkward in our like, Korean-diaspora culture events due to her traditional upbringing, and would often retreat to the kitchen rather than eat with us whenever we were at her place. It took years of trying to get her to come out and sit with us to bear fruit, and get her to awkwardly join us when there were events at her house.

Conversations with her were often painfully awkward because she couldn't relate to anyone in our generation, and actually couldn't relate to anyone in her generation in our family either, as they had all moved here at a young age. On top of that, Uncle D had a job that involved a lot of travel, and Aunt S seemed very lonely, especially as her kids grew up.

Once Uncle D retired and started spending all his time with her, she seemed a little happier, but I still think of her life as really really lonely and without anyone who understood her, even her own children.

II.

I know that it was an arranged courtship between the two of them, but I never got the details.

Recently, at a family event, Aunt S and I were chatting, doing the usual awkward pleasantry exchange. I mentioned that I was single and trying to date, and she decided to give me some romantic advice, from the older generation to the younger one! So now I'm getting romantic advice from a 60 year old Korean woman who moved here as an adult, has no real engagement with American culture, and whose experience of dating is an arranged courtship. Oh boy.

Her advice was to “trust in God” and that eventually I'd find the person that I'm meant to be with. Uh, not very actionable.

I think my disappointment with her advice must have shown, because she decided to share the story of her first date with Uncle D. They had been introduced by family members, then went on a date. At the end of it, D was so enamored with her that he proposed to her on the spot. She responded by laughing in his face! But she liked him, and they eventually did end up marrying after meeting a couple more times.

III.

This was meant to be a funny story, but then she went on to say that when she met him, she'd been planning to move from Korea to Vancouver, Canada to pursue a PhD at UBC. Her aunt (a spinster) lived there and they had a good relationship on her occasional visits. Her aunt had prepared a room for S, and S was looking forward to moving to North America, living with her aunt and pursuing her dreams.

After getting engaged to my uncle, S set her dreams aside. She abandoned her ambitions for higher education and living with her aunt. Instead, she married my uncle, became a housewife, had two kids, never had a job or got another degree. She spent the next few decades being alone in a society she never really understood, with no close friends other than her husband. And even her husband often had business trips and never had time to love her or help with their kids, kids she couldn’t relate to, until he retired.

She told me this story, and I thought it was terribly sad.

[firebatvillain]

I think it also adds a lot to it that Bashir has his own dark secret (of a sort) as well. Maybe he was drawn to Garak for that reason? (What reason???, as we all know, Garak is a simple tailor...)

Garashir isn’t even a “I can fix him” situation Julian saw all of Garak and decided “Yeah I’m down”

[firebatvillain]

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[firebatvillain]

Dan

I had a friend, who I will call Dan. This is the story of how Dan became a far-righter, a conspiracy theorist, and worse. In the end, he got into an epistemic blind loop, unable to process anything that didn’t already agree with his beliefs. He was mired in his own set of information sources, and new, toxic communities. He gradually became completely radicalized, alienated from our friend group despite years spent trying to help him. We had to cut ties when his ranting and hate got too much.

Childhood

Dan and I were part of the same circle of friends in middle school. I was a latecomer to this friend group, as I went to a different elementary school from them-- they were all friends since age 8 or so, whereas I joined the friend circle around age 11. In middle school, we were just a collection of about a dozen nerdy kids would hang out and play Magic: the Gathering, or talk about girls, or discuss science and math. By high school, we were drifting apart a bit. Some of us got involved in the robotics club, some went into band, others joined sports, and we no longer shared the same classes as often. I made friends with some other people, and so on. We would still hang out on weekends and during summer breaks.

After high school, we all went our different ways. Max dropped out of high school but was whip-smart, and made his way doing odd jobs and working in electronics installations for nearby small businesses. Matt went to a fancy Midwestern college and became a sound technician. Adam went to the local community college then struggled through a 4-year university, and is now a manager at a big company you’ve probably heard of. Ben dropped out of college and did retail jobs, but has spent the last few years going to night school to learn how to code, and just finished his degree. Pete went to the University of California, where he didn’t make friends, but after 4 years of loneliness he got his degree and he now works as designer in our hometown. Dave went to a liberal arts college in the Midwest and now does consulting (or did before the pandemic, at least). John finished his 4+1 years at a Cal State Uni, got a teaching credential, and became a teacher at our hometown high school. Patrick went to a big UC, but when he knocked up his girlfriend, he had to change his life trajectory and now works as a designer at a marketing firm. I went to a small liberal arts college which was a great experience but taught me none of the job skills I used as a coder after college: it took a year of community college afterwards for me to learn the skills I needed.

We all had hiccups, but we were all of us lucky. Each of us came from a background of at least some means, with parents who could afford to send us to some kind of college if we wanted. Even Max benefited from this, because his electronics technician skills were learned in his dad’s garage on kits his dad brought home from working as an electrical engineer. Those of us who dropped out of high school or college, or didn’t learn much there, were still blessed by the connections of our parents and our high school peers, and though we’ve struggled and stumbled along the way, we managed to make a comfortable life for ourselves. In this era, it’s actually remarkable.

Dan, though, didn’t have the advantages we did. He went to the same excellent middle school and high school as we did, but his family was in a precarious financial situation, struggling to get by. His father was out of the picture, and his mother didn’t make enough money to support his older brother and him. I’m still not sure how Dan’s family could afford to live in our school district. In retrospect, he had a very bad family life, but as kids, we basically didn’t notice this: nothing we did was expensive, and Dan was just another friend. For various reasons, he never felt comfortable bringing this up when we were kids.

Dan converted to Christianity in high school just to impress a girl, but it stuck, and for a time his church activities gave him some stability. He dropped out of high school, but he wasn’t the only one of us to do so. He went on to community college, and seemed to be doing okay for a while, though we were all out of touch for a few years around then. It was a few years later when most of us were done with college and moved back to our hometown that we got more seriously in touch with him, and realized he was in a bad place.

After College

By this point, Dan was no longer doing anything in life, no longer in any social circles, and very depressed. We’d known the guy since middle school (or since 2nd grade for some of us) and he’d always had a wry sense of humor, but now it was all bitter with no humor: he felt that he had no future any more. He had given up on community college, hadn’t found a job, and felt he couldn’t do anything in life. Unlike Ben or Max, he didn’t have hobbies or interests, either: he didn’t write or draw or tinker. His days were spent completely empty, and he was struggling. There was nothing for him to cling to in these tough times. His executive dysfunction issues were overwhelming and he often couldn’t get out of bed to even brush his teeth or shower. Things got worse when his family was forced, due to poverty, to move away from our hometown, out into the boonies far away from his social support network and everything else he had in his life.

It was around this time that we made a Slack server (no Discord in those days!) and invited him in, so we could all chat together and have a nice time. This Slack server (and later a Discord server when we migrated there) was our haven. We could keep in touch with each other, even if we scattered to different towns. We could help each other out, be each other’s support, and just talk about life and socialize when lonely. For a time, it seemed to help Dan.

Dan was going to a dark place even then, alone and without any hopes for a future, uprooted from the social support of a childhood spent in in our hometown. He was without education, without work, without friends, without community, without... motion, I guess. And this chatroom was something that mattered, that helped.

Dan: being able to chat with y’all has helped my mood 50000 percent Dan: thanks fam Dan: I've been having like, chronic panic attacks

Even with our support, though, Dan was alone, and vulnerable. He fell down a deep hole of depression, then began to worship being down that hole. And he turned to more conspiracy theories that he found compelling: that said that all of the bad things in his life, all of it was explainable, all of it was not his fault, that there were greater, powerful factors at play holding him down. They posited a system that pervades the world, that created the emptiness and depression and loneliness he felt, that justified it all. They told him to take that feeling and to exalt it, to channel it into hatred of the Other. These alt-right conspiracies told him that all his problems were the fault of Jewish people, feminists, and so on, and if only they could be stopped, he would be okay.

Beyond just that, his beliefs were absolutely insane, further even than what you’d think when I tell you he became an antisemitic conspiracy theorist. He got into flat earthism, belief in evil cults practicing occult daemon magic, and belief in the idea that some ethnic groups weren’t human or were ethereal ghosts who could pose as humans. It got to the point where it was hard to even understand what he was talking about, he was so far beyond reasonable beliefs about the world.

The End

He would lash out at us with these beliefs, no matter how friendly we were or how much we tried to draw him back to normalcy. Our interactions got worse and worse, until the only support he felt he had was from his fellow far right conspiracy people, and we were his enemies, in his mind. From then on, it was only a matter of time until we gave up.

We did try, as he slipped into more radical, right-wing conspiratorial beliefs, to nudge him back in the right direction. We pointed out the factual flaws in his arguments. We talked about the validity of information sources he used, we argued with him on whether his conclusions followed premises. We made appeals to him as old friends. I know it was the right decision to try, but we all did what we could and it wasn’t enough.

I had thought we were making progress, but one day, after an egregious round of ranting from Dan that included calling Ben, who is Jewish, a racial slur, there was no unsaying what Dan had said. I thought that in the end, things might work out, that our bonds of friendship spanning decades would be enough to save our friend from this descent to an awful place. I thought we might pull him back from these spirals of bad emotion, worldview, and lifestyle, that fed into each other, viciously. In the end, we had to look out for ourselves rather than engage in futile effort, even an effort to save a friend.

The toxicity and hatred was too much, and the last holdout among us finally relented. We had failed.

We banned Dan from our chat server. Since our only contact with Dan was on the web since he moved away a few years back, that was it. It was over.

We also had to block him on Facebook, Twitter, and so on, because he began yelling at us there.

Things were noticeably better with him gone. Our server flourished, we became more active and happier. We supported each other through easy times and tough times, and have been there for each other throughout the pandemic. We were there for each other without Dan to cast a dark shadow over us all.

Today

I haven't spoken to Dan in a few years now, and haven't seen him for a decade.

I don’t even know how I feel about him any more. By the end, all he was able to do was lash out and hurt people, because he believed that his state of racist, crazed depression was the only true way to be, and we were his enemies for not sharing his beliefs or his race.

No amount of our internet chatting could save him from his life situation and the choices he made. He was in a bad spot to begin with: dropped out of college, living with abusive family, out in the boonies away from his hometown, he had health issues, his family was poverty-stricken by this point, and we could no longer see him in person, because he had moved so far away. We couldn't change that. And he wanted an ideology that justified that and venerated him as a clear-eyed visionary who could see the truth, valued for his race and for his belief in the conspiracy. And we couldn’t change that, either.

I hope that things have changed for him in the last few years. I hope he found a healthy way to cope with his depression, and he found his way out of the edifice of conspiratorial beliefs and right-wing ideology he built to justify it to himself. I hope he found a way away from his alt-right beliefs, and stable life where he feels safe.

I don’t think this has happened, though: I think he’s probably still alone, and angry, and far-right.

Catch you on the flip side, Dan.

[firebatvillain]

real holiday imo

when i was a child my dad made up a fake holiday called big sandwich night the weekend after thanksgiving, during which we got the longest bread we could find and built a big sandwich together and then cut it up and ate it. we got really fancy ingredients and each built our own section of sandwich before cutting it. building the sandwich together represents community or teamwork or something. and then we would put our christmas tree up and the holiday season was officially kicked off with big sandwich night.

i grew up believing this was a real holiday that americans everywhere celebrated until when i was like 8 i asked a friend if they were excited for big sandwich night and they were like what the hell are you talking about riley. kind of shattered my worldview. but we still celebrate it and ive spread the tradition to friends and partners.

big sandwiches of years past:

as weve included more people weve started having to graft loaves together to make a sandwich big enough for everyone. but it still communicates the core idea of everyone eating the same sandwich together in fellowship.

[firebatvillain]

This is the best writing advice I've seen out there. People always suggest I vary sentence length but they're wrong.

never say with eleven words what you could with ten. do not use nine words where ten words will do. only ever write sentences that are exactly ten words long.

[firebatvillain]

There must be courageous souls out there doing everything in HTML who don’t know about the rich text editor... :(

Here’s a trick if you use google docs and like to copy and paste into AO3′s rich text box. In google docs, when you make paragraphs, often the paragraphs appear too close together, like this:

If you put in extra lines between the paragraphs, though, it comes out with extra lines in AO3. You can fix that by changing the formatting of the document.

1. Use CTRL+A to select all text in the document

2. Format -> Line & Paragraph Spacing -> Add space after paragraph

3. And you’re done! Now the paragraphs will be properly spaced, and when you copy it into Ao3 you won’t see extra line breaks you need to remove:

Here’s how it looks copied into Ao3′s rich text editor:

No need to remove extra lines! It looks good here and in your google doc.

Go into the new year aware of the fact that you don't need to know HTML in order to post on AO3. If you select the Rich Text button, you'll get a visual editor instead.

[firebatvillain]

The electrochemistry lines with voiceover should count as smut imo

at this point i'm starting to feel a little bad for people who picked up the post-soviet mental illness simulator without knowing what they were getting into

[firebatvillain]

"I'll just tell the rescue team to rescue both the individual and the group, saving SIX lives. Take THAT, moral theorists!"

Okay let me try this one again. The Trolley Problem sets up a scenario that sucks to be in. You either kill one guy, or you kill five guys. Nobody likes these options. We all don't want this be happening. That's kind of the point. It's a moral quandary. It's supposed to feel bad.

Now, according to a recent post floating around on tumblr, choosing either of the two options demonstrates "learned helplessness" and makes you a neolib sheep. The only correct answer, the post states, is to reject the question altogether. (Or to change the parameters of the question to include an option that saves everyone, thus eliminating the moral quandary.)

It sounds nice, doesn't it? Fuck this bad situation, we control our imaginations, so let's imagine a situation that doesn't suck. Hah! Bet you didn't think of that!

Here's the problem. Even though I think most situations generally have at least one solution that is both Feasible and Not Terrible, I have to admit that there are some situations (as in, not zero of them) where all the feasible options are unpleasant. This is a natural consequence of living in a world where A Lot Of Things Suck.

But if shitty situations do exist, even if it's super super rare, then it's not unreasonable to ask, "How should we make decisions when we find ourselves in a shitty situation?"

This is the beginning premise of the Trolley Problem. It says, "Hey what if you were in an unambiguously shitty situation? There are many shitty situations, so let's imagine one that is contrived enough to get everyone on the same page regardless of political affiliation, AND really emphasizes the key parts that I want to discuss."

Tumblr says "let me stop you right there. What if instead...we imagined a different scenario that wasn't as shitty?"

Well, okay, but then we're not talking about the same thing anymore. That doesn't actually count as an answer to the problem, you're just changing the subject to a completely different thing.

Tumblr goes on to say, "Exactly. That's the only thing you should ever do when confronted with an ethical quandary. Frankly the fact that you are willing to even consider a scenario that sucks suggests that you are fundamentally incapable of considering less shitty scenarios."

I just want to say I think that's bullshit. I don't think every problem is a trolley problem, but I do think that some problems are a trolley problem. And I think that those problems are worth discussing, even though they don't feel good. The trolley problem exists as a framework to discuss those problems.

Maybe our aversion to difficult decisions has an impact on our ethical reasoning, and maybe we should actually question how our ethical standards hold up under the weight of that aversion. So maybe moral quandaries like the trolley problem are worth discussing. And if you don't want to engage with the quandary, then don't - you don't have to concoct a whole essay about how the quandary is inherently morally bad.

It's possible that what you really want to say is that it sucks when people treat certain situations as trolley problems, when those specific situations actually do contain unambiguously feasible and unambiguously perfect solutions. I would agree with that.

But like. Let's not pretend that you can reduce all of ethics down to unchallenging black and white moralism.

[firebatvillain]

The goat's fate:

❌burned ❌survived ✅secret third thing

New picture! Baby's got a hole in the head

[firebatvillain]

Very interesting to me that my selection, "To become something at the very limits of baseline human biology" isn't more common, seemingly "don't change at all" or "become a sentient rock" are less popular. I thought mine would be the default!

I picked the most extreme option that still appears to be a baseline human, because I'd basically want to be a baseline human, just with some upsides like: unaging, and unable to be killed by random organ failures, cancer, etc. No back pain, please. I'd also like to lose some weight and be one inch taller, as well as become strong enough I can survive being struck by a truck, or survive an airplane crash long enough for medical technology to get me stable. However, all this stuff together is way more than "within normal human variation" - nobody stops aging at age 30 and remains healthy and hale for as long as they desire.

I desire youth and health and the ability to survive car accidents forever, and this seems like a normal thing to want, but definitely at the very limits of baseline human biology. But also I don't want to turn into like, an anthropomorphic dolphin or something.

The transformation would not be permanent; you could always revise or reverse it later. If you would prefer to experience multiple forms across different categories, just choose the one that appeals to you most right now.

“Form” can include both your physical shape and the structure of your mind, how you experience the world, your sense of self, etc. I assume what people would prefer along the physical axis broadly with what they would prefer along the mental one, but if that’s not true for you, pick the option that describes whichever axis is more salient to your preferences.

Some of the ambiguity in the responses available is intentional; interpret them as the spirit moves you.

[firebatvillain]

Adar and the orcs yearning for freedom is one of my favorite parts of TROP. These themes have appeared in other adaptations beyond the source material and Tolkien's letters, too. Although people rarely remember the Rankin/Bass adaptation of The Return of the King, everyone loves the absolute banger of a song that is Where There's a Whip There's a Way. Often left unexamined are the lyrics, which tell us that the orcs are slaves who don't want to go to war. It's just a taste of orc interiority, but it tells us that for decades people have been considering this kind of thing in adaptations. TROP is just the first one to really center it in a prestigious medium.

A lot of people were upset with the idea of orcs wanting “freedom” and “well-being” in The Rings of Power, and I get why they see this as a departure from what The Lord of the Rings represents. But is it really THAT far from what Tolkien wrote? In the book The Two Towers, there’s a scene many people overlook: two orcs, Shagrat and Gorbag, talk about escaping and freeing themselves from Sauron’s rule. They dream about living somewhere without “big bosses,” reminiscing about the “old days.” So yes, orcs wanting to live free and away from control did exist in Tolkien’s texts. What did Tolkien really mean? Tolkien made it clear that he didn’t deal with the idea of “absolute evil.” Orcs, like Sauron and Morgoth, are corrupted but still retain some rationality and personal desires. They were twisted, but not inherently evil from birth. Tolkien Quote: “In my story I do not deal with Absolute Evil. I do not think there is such a thing, since it is Nothing. I do not think, at any rate, any ‘rational being’ is wholly evil.” (Letter 183) In the end, orcs in the books and the series have more layers than many think. They want to escape servitude, but they remain corrupted creatures, incapable of living justly or nobly, always bound to their violent and looting nature. So, The Rings of Power didn’t invent this concept from scratch, it simply expanded on a conversation that Tolkien had already started.

—Aimar Bravo

[firebatvillain]

That crypto scammer woman who helped a guy steal like a billion dollars was a Tumblr poster. Did any of her posts get used against her in court?

I see a lot of people on tumblr getting really cocky about "how could this person believe that ChatGPT would give them real information and then present it to other people as the truth without verifying what an idiot" considering that they're chilling on the share screenshot, eat hot chip, and lie website.

[firebatvillain]

I've always thought it was more in line with some kind of fundie stuff, but I don't know a lot of catholics so maybe it works there too

I continue to maintain that almost all TERFs I have encountered possess an ideology that is 80-90% compatible with Catholic social theory

[firebatvillain]

I'm a Fanlore volunteer and have a nice time with it. It's an entertaining activity and it's cool to help document fan history. These roles are focused on social media and promotion of the wiki, ex, running editing events, writing social media posts, and so on. Feel free to ask me if you want to know more about the experience!

The OTW is Recruiting for Fanlore and Translation Volunteers

Are you fluent in a language other than English? Do you have an interest in fandom history or in fannish culture? Are you interested in social media, community management or outreach? The OTW is recruiting! Read more at https://otw.news/6bdacb