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poisonheadcrabsalesman · 4 years ago

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More therapy thoughts part 1/?

Behavior Theory Frameworks/Conditioning and What the fuck does Master Chief talk about in therapy?

Ramblings below - like a lot, like I spent too much time writing this and you should not read this

Behavioral Theory could work well as a framework with rehabilitating Spartan IIs if the case worker focused on Operant Conditioning Theory and Cognitive Social Learning Theory, which I talked about in this ask because I think I’m funny and this blog is an archive of me applying human behavior theories to video games.

Spartans have always been taught the mission comes first! Always! The 2s are indoctrinated from age 6-14 and then have that reinforced the rest of their lives. From the beginning they are taught to push themselves to the limits, earn their food by winning, form bonds with teammates but be ready to sacrifice them for the mission. The whole lives wasted vs spent conversation between John and Mendez after the augmentation surgery!

What the UNSC/ONI wants comes before their lives, the lives of other soldiers, civilians, AI etc. This constant conditioning of expectations and rewards has created the norms cemented in their minds. This becomes standard operating procedure.

Spartans are also an entirely separated social group, other people have made really great posts on how they are Othered and have their own way of communicating with body language. ODSTs hate Spartans, marines see them as cyborgs or saviors, and while they’re allies, Spartans are not seen or treated as human, by literally everyone. They are a means to an end, with the original goal being to maintain the UNSC’s position of power and crush the insurrectionists in the outer colonies, but uh oh Aliens!

Maybe the 2s aren’t as expendable as the 3s but the mindset and reinforcement of “mission first, people second” being repeated their entire lives is going to stick. So is the constant mistreatment and abuse from their fellow soldiers and handlers.

Addressing the cognitive distortions that come from their upbringing while also balancing the fact that Spartans are so fundamentally different from the way they developed to survive would be so much work, especially considering how much information on them is given to their therapist. The main distortion I would apply is minimization, making large problems small and not properly dealing with them, and specifically for John, personification, accepting blame for negative events without sufficient evidence.

Like these are grown ass super soldiers who can kill you in less than a second and calculate the amount of gravity in a room on the fly but then also can flounder when trying to comfort civilians or make small talk because their experiences and values are so alien to adults who had more developmentally “normal” lives.

Literally applying therapy to Spartans would be like, what was done to you was wrong, the ends do not justify the means, you were children and the adults in your life failed to protect you. You are a human person who is fallible and did the best you could with what you had. And the Spartan would say, “sounds fake but okay, can I pass my psych eval and go back to war now please?”

Jumping back to Behavior Theory

Different approaches to therapy under the Behavior Theory umbrella help modify negative behaviors with treatments like Cognitive Behavioral Therapy and Dialectical behavior therapy that teach individuals adaptive coping like emotional regulation, distress tolerance, cognitive distortions, and interpersonal communication. And that’s just one framework under the umbrella of human behavior theories.

Social work therapy is different from psych as it approaches individuals with heavily researched, evidence-based theories and frameworks in a holistic viewing of person-in-environment, instead of a strong focus on internal psychology.

Social work looks at all the interacting systems, environment, history, and internal and external factors affecting an individual. One of the most useful frameworks is the Biopsychosocial-Spiritual Frameworks (BPSS) when helping a client. It helps with identifying all the intersecting factors, both risk and protective, that shapes a client’s lived experiences. The most important thing to remember is that the individual is an expert in their own life, they know their experiences best.

The hardest part is applying this to Spartans because they Are So Fucked, their lived experiences, their environments and systems and institutions interacting with them, and the amount of their personal information that is probably so classified.

BPSS is a tool to help social workers assess individuals and their situations by collecting info that is related to the presenting issues and current and past circumstances. Info like medical history, hospitalizations, substance abuse, mental illness, personal relationships, family history and background, culture and norms, education, legal history, spirituality and participation etc. is all under this framework.

For Spartan 2s most of this info is lost or classified and helping someone who has repressed every negative emotion they've had for the sake of the mission would be so much to unpack but that’s also why you’re reading the mad ramblings over an over caffeinated nerd on the internet.

Life Course Theory which looks at developmental milestones and the individual’s experiences versus the socially expected markers, how do you apply that to children who were taken and have lived such different lives?

While early adolescence is when “normal” development of thoughts of self and identity take place alongside the physical changes of puberty, Spartans were being turned into emotionless calculating weapons. Sorry John, no forming a sense of identity and peer bonds for you, go kill that Watts guy who betrayed us and joined the insurrectionists.

And now that I’ve gone this insane and opened 2 whole textbooks up, let’s get to Master Chief thoughts. If you’ve read this far thank you, I swear I’m normal, 2020 has just been a weird year.

Why the fuck did I think I could write a therapy fic on a guy with 20 minutes of actual dialogue across almost 2 decades of games?

I make fun of him and call him a himbo, but he’s smart, he knows he’s being used and there is resentment there that’s been building for years.

There’s also decades of trauma and combat experience, physical, and emotional abuse, the lack of a support network, lack of an identity, the biological factors and aftermath of the augmentations and injuries he’s received, a whole lot of grief and self-inflicted guilt.

The loss of a third of his peer group with the augmentation surgery, Sam’s death, the loss of Reach (the only place he’s considered home), Keyes, the Pillar of Autumn crew, Miranda Keyes, Johnson, Cortana. He cares about the marines who fight with him!!!

He just stands there and takes it and rarely snaps, and even then it’s just small cracks on the surface with fissures running deep. The few details I will pull from Halo 5 are Blue Team’s reactions to John pushing himself so hard from the beginning of the game, and the literal crack in his armor from the fight with Locke. Like dude.

John’s a leader and will get the mission done but he tugs on the leash. He’s earned enough of a reputation and uses it to get his way.

Halo 2’s “Permission to leave the station” with Mr. “I’m going to hand deliver a bomb to the fusion reactor of a covenant supercarrier and hope my friends catch me”.

Halo 4 is when we see him say no to a superior officer and then 5 is him going AWOL. Palmer literally points out that no one is going to stop him.

Halo 5 kills me for many reasons but John bringing up Halsey and what she did to him and also pointing out that he knows Halo 5 Cortana is trying to manipulate him with psychological tactics hurts.

He knows what’s been done to him!

I cannot remember which book it was but John isn’t used to working alone. He literally takes fire because he was expecting someone to have his back!

He’s lost without Cortana! She was in his brain! Y’all! I played Halo Combat Evolved on the original xbox when I was like 8 and I knew these two were meant to be together. From the moment they met they had great chemistry and relied on each other! Cortana literally goes after people who have it out for John! John wants her approval and shows off for her in one of the books.

I’ve already written too much here but like all of the games have John showing off for Cortana, making dry jokes, jumping out of things he shouldn’t.

The whole point of this rambling is to try and get my thoughts about how to approach John’s character under control.

And that’s the thing. He’s lost control. He’s lost people, he’s losing his position and being phased out as an aging spartan, a relic. John’s used to following orders and making some decisions on the battlefield but it was always short term.

He has no identity beyond being a weapon. Complete the mission, clear the LZ, get put in cryo. Rinse, repeat.

The timeline of the games are what I'm most familiar with but with the comics and books too it’s one long run from Halo 2 to Halo 4. Cairo station to the Dreadnought to the crash landing to Forward Unto Dawn to Requiem to “The Didact is Dead but not really but we’ll deal with him off-screen”.

I know Hood apparently gave John R&R orders before Halo 5 that he ignored and kept running himself into the ground. This is a man who has to keep moving and keep being useful.

I imagine him giving in and seeking help as a last resort to fix any problems he has with performing his duties rather than helping himself be healthier.

Any professional he sees is going to have to approach him like they’re approaching a self sacrificing feral cat, with lunch meat and quiet. This man needs to have his support network closer, set up long term goals, and do some serious, and most likely incredibly painful, self reflection on where he’s come from and where he wants to go. Get him out of that tin can and into therapy. I don’t have a nice neat ending because this was a ramble and also therapy is not neat and tidy. Thanks for reading my words about mr halo

#this is not coherent but it needs out of my brain #John - has different characterizations based on what media he's in #Me - my writing must be in character or I Will Die #also me - we don't talk about halo 5 but i will loot its corpse for bits of lore I like #im sorry for being like this #my writing #Therapy time #John 117 #this is not a halo blog #haha this was peer reviewed nonsense #thanks yall for enabling me #i have even more ideas for the infinity sitcom folder now

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tossawary · 4 years ago

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Note to self for depictions of the Cucumberplane friendship: when Shen Yuan is bullying Shang Qinghua, Shang Qinghua is bullying Shen Yuan right back. Two internet trolls meet up in the next life and mock each other relentlessly.

Shen Yuan: “Every day I wake up cursing your existence.”

Shang Qinghua: “Haha, sure. Anyway! Back to what I was talking about: honestly, bro, where do our relationships fall on the scale of monsterfucking? Let’s discuss. Here, I brought some charts.”

Shen Yuan: “Oh, holy shit.”

Shang Qinghua: “First, we have to create our monsterfucking scale. Luo Binghe is, I think, on the ‘basically human’ side of the scale and my king is just a little further along in the ‘now we’re getting somewhere’ category. Bro, stay with me on this, I really need a peer review here.”

Shen Yuan: “This is trash. Why are you making me look at this filthy nonsense? It’s making my eyes and my heart hurt.”

Shang Qinghua: “Come on, bro! What kind of useless criticism is that?”

Shen Yuan: “...Half of those nonhumans in your first chart aren’t even monsters, bro. Nonhumans and monsters are different.”

Shang Qinghua: “Oh, an expert, huh?”

#tossawary svsss #fic ideas #cucumberplane #shen yuan #shang qinghua #moshang #bingqiu #the great monsterfucking debate

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monofpoke4life · 4 years ago

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Once Upon a Rooftop

(AN: This originally started as a livewrite on discord with the prompts Roof and Dance, and this is what I came up with. I thought I’d share it here. Note: Dance companies make you sign up for more than one class of different dance styles. Also, you don’t control the outfits, especially for something like The Nutcracker. It’s like a uniform. Lmao, can’t believe I had a review on ff.net that didn’t know that. Anyway, please enjoy).

Zim clamped his mouth shut as he peered into the hallway from inside the vent. His analytical gaze watched closely as a pair of boots passed by. The shadow of his enemy's abnormally large head trailed behind him.

The boots squeaked as they cautiously rounded a corner, ready for an ambush that never came. There was a pause, and the owner of the boots continued forward. Only when he could no longer hear the footsteps did Zim dare to emerge from his dusty, makeshift cave. Quickly taking a moment to brush the dust off, he dashed up the stairs to escape pursuit.

Higher and higher he climbed, never daring to stop in one of the classrooms. That's where the Dib-armadillo wanted him to hide! But as a formidable, Irken war machine, such as himself, the mighty Zim was much too smart for that.

Not to mention he just wanted to desperately leave this citadel full of the stench of humiliation and shame that humans called "Hi-Skool."

It was bad enough that, for the sake of his mission, his presence was required to be here during the daytime, but to stay for research only to end up in failure was even more torturous, especially when Dib started chasing him.

As his mind reminded him of his failure, just as he swiftly approached the lone, cold door, he channeled all of his frustration into ramming the normally locked door. He was so lost in his ire that he failed to notice the door propped open by a fist sized stone.

"HAHA-" Zim screamed in triumph, bursting through the rooftop doors with a bit of a stumble. It immediately swung back and hit him, knocking him over. Springing to his feet, he screeched at the loathsome thing! How dare it lay its nonexistent hands upon his greatness!

His pak legs sprung free with the ends glowing red-hot, ready to deal the final blow, but a voice stopped him in his tracks.

"If you destroy it, the alarm will go off."

Zim's fists tightened and his pak legs instantly retreated. His skin prickled at the sound of her voice, and he whirled around on his heel.

"You didn't see anything!" The words belted from his mouth before he fully turned. However, now that he had, and taking in the sight of the Dib-sister, his tirade of insults fell short.

His face frozen in indignant anger as he gawked. The earth's filthy moon bathed her in an otherworldly glow as it reflected off vast expanse of rarely exposed skin and the sheer, white fabric of her pitiful earth attire. As her “long tunic” swayed in the breeze, he couldn't help but think she looked like that white thingy upon Dib-dirt's shirt. Of course, she was much more not unpleasant to look at.

His mind nearly blanked in captivation before her response snapped him back to reality.

"Should've known you'd find me. I mean, you've only followed me for like what? Two weeks?"

"What?! No I haven't! Don't be ridiculous! An Irken as mighty as Zim has no need to follow the likes of you! I have way more important things to do than that."

Gaz narrowed her eyes as he nonchalantly sat beside her, yet she observed his eyes flicking frantically around at anywhere else but at her. His back stiff as a board as he leaned against the air conditioning unit, and claws nervously clicking against the warm roof.

"Okay, let's pretend I believe you. What important things are you doing here?"

The change in his mood was instantaneous as he smirked, and puffed his chest like a proud peacock. "Oh silly little Gaz, isn't it obvious?"

He offhandedly gestured towards her from head to toe, doing nothing more than conflicting his previous words and confusing her more.

Unfortunately, her puzzled glare did nothing more than feed his ego. He sent her a devious, superior grin that made her want to punch him, and made her stomach do tiny flips. "Oh you don't know? Well, I suppose such effects are to be expected from such a powerful form of hypnosis capable of ensnaring the little Gaz."

"Hypnosis?" Okay, now the alien grass stain really had her confused as she let herself blurt her puzzlement. She knew he misinterpreted human things all the time with his logic, or his lack there of entirely, but she could usually make some sense out of his backwards nonsense. Unfortunately, this time she was at a loss.

He nodded, his grin grew wider, as he continued. "Yes, the one you clearly broke out of since you are no longer in the audi-toe-rem with the rest of the frilly filthies. I expect nothing less from someone as superior as Little Gaz."

Gaz bit her lip as a slight heat rose to her cheeks. She normally didn't care much for compliments, but one said so flippantly and without some form of backhandedness was actually a welcome compliment.

However, she couldn't bask in it, nor did she want to, as she finally had some clues to work off of. Her eyes narrowed once more at him as her mind whirled through the possibilities a mile a minute.

"Hypnosis in the auditorium?" As she said it aloud, memories of why she was even on the roof, in this stupid dress, made her fists clench at her side.

Ignoring her knuckles turning white, Zim obliviously elaborated, "Yes, I stumbled across it's magnificent power in the gym two weeks ago."

"Oh what a coincidence," Gaz growled.

Normally, this would strike fear in those around her within a 20 ft radius, but Zim turned to her, unfazed, as he bragged, "I know right? Sometimes my brilliance amazes even me!"

"I suppose somebody has to be."

"At first I thought of how pitiful and weak minded humans were to fall for such simple methods of mind control such as dainty and weak music coming from a rounded box. With they're rapid twirly movements and unnaturally pointed shoes, they all looked like flailing flobblewumps!" He screamed that last part.

At the mention of some creature she didn't know of, he threw his head back to laugh at the ridiculous memory.

"Quit screaming in my ear before I turn you into a flag."

His mouth abruptly clicked shut. He glared at her. She stood up, and he flinched. She smirked at that, before leaning back and hopping on top of the ac unit, ignoring the high voltage sticker.

He opened his mouth once more, but she cut him off.

"Oh keep bragging about your brilliance and tell me what changed. Just not so loud."

Her "compliment," despite sarcastic, had its desired effect as Zim stood. Brushing himself off of imaginary dirt and congratulating her for finally noticing how great he is, until he stopped as something finally clicked in his mind. "Eh? Change? What change? Zim is still brilliant."

Gaz rolled her eyes at that. "You said the hypnosis was simple and weak. I'm assuming you didn't think it was worth your time, but you're here looking for it, right?"

"Affirmative."

"Then what changed? What made it worthy of the powerful Zim?"

Zim's narrowed eyes immediately lit up at that. In fact, they seemed to glimmer at her like a kid being handed a lollipop, as he bragged, "You finally acknowledge my superiority"

"I never said that."

"I suppose that hypnosis has some benefits. In any case, if you must know, it was during my observations that I noticed among the group was the deadly Little Gaz. Someone as strong in strength and mind would never fall for such a weak hypnosis, meaning it's power was far greater than even my powerful Irken brain meats could fathom! I knew I had to make it my own!"

"I suppose me being in a revealing leotard and tights had nothing to do with it?"

"Eh? You were not wearing any fur?"

"Leotard, Zim. Le-o-tard. Not leopard." Gaz shook her head at this not knowing whether to smile and let the chuckle bubbling up from her throat out or frown and squash it down. Zim's misunderstanding logic was always good for a laugh, yet it unsettled her how easily she could follow his logic. She'd been spending too much time with him.

"Eh?! No that's- I was just testing you! After experiencing such a powerful hypnosis, one's meat functions of their mind might not come back. Just making sure everything was there. It is. You're in top tip shape like a good soldier. Yes indeed ha ha Ha ha ha."

Zim didn't realize until it was too late that he instinctively reached out and patted her head. He'd gotten more "human" and "handy" as of late with Gir, and giving little praises usually involved patting his metallic head. So he didn’t realize he’d done the same to her until it was too late.

The feeling of her soft hair beneath his gloved-touch sent him reeling back. His arm immediately clutched to his chest as if he had been struck by a snake.

Well, definitely something akin to it. The Gaz-beast was quite known for her brutal fists, merciless kicks, sharp nails, and power that could make even full grown human-filthies soil themselves at just a glance. The former three he knew very well from personal experience, so he wasn't wrong to assume what was surely to come.

After all, nobody touched the Dib-sister without retaliation.

Well, actually there was that one time he…

Zim shook his head to dispel the thoughts from his mind. Something was wrong. He was still able to think. Too many thoughts and not enough pain for someone about to stare into the depths of hell of her amber eyes. He should be experiencing more pain than thoughts right now. So why wasn't he?

Zim opened his eyes, that he didn't remember closing, and found himself still very much alive and still very much not in pain. Also, it was too quiet. He at least expected to hear the sounds of a nightmare world without waking; however, all that met his hidden antennae was the muffled sound of the gentle winds.

Tentatively, Zim glanced out of the corner of his eye. Maybe she hadn't noticed the touch? No! That was impossible! The Gaz didn't miss anything! She must have her reasons.

Feeling braver from his lack of death, Zim turned his head, and found himself transfixed by the wisps of see-through material of her long tunic dancing upon the breeze. A dress, if he remembered correctly.

His gaze shifted down to the clear outline of white, tight covered legs and those bizarre shoes she wore. Their white, shiny, cloth exterior also shined within the moonlight as they shook.

Wait, shook?

Immediately his eyes flicked back up to the rest of her to find her shoulders shaking as well. Her arms crossed in a manner as if she were hugging herself, and her head was tilted down in a way her bangs hid her more pleasant than average face.

Was she? Was Gaz- No! She wouldn't! She couldn't...could she? Well, she was only human. A regretful feature, but surely...by the Control Brains what should he do?

Tentatively he shuffled closer, clearing his throat like a cat hacking up a hairball. Her shoulders began to shake more ever so slightly.

He took a long moment looking at anything but her before finally returning his gaze to her once more. "Little Gaz, are you-" He began as he reached out to touch her shoulder.

However, just before his clawed-tips made contact, her body pitched forward and then back. Her head thrown back as she laughed uproariously.

She was...she was laughing?! At Zim?! It was the only reasonable explanation! Others' stupidity and misfortune always made her laugh, and what she said next only confirmed his suspicions.

"You- haha- you thought I was under hyp- hahaha hypnosis because of my recital?"

"Yes!?" Zim yelled quizzically, desperately trying to use his volume and bravado to hide his embarrassment. It made her snicker. She could never take him seriously when he got like this, let alone the hilarity of the situation.

"That's another type of earth hypnosis, is it not?"

"What did I say about yelling?"

His mouth clicked shut, and she snickered again. It was too easy at times.

"No, it's not," she answered simply as she hopped down from the ac unit. Using the movement as extra time to regain her composure. She was careful not to scuff the satin of her shoes or land awkwardly on the pointes. This night was a shit show enough without her tripping and landing on her face.

Smoothing out her dress, and finally calm enough, Gaz turned to him as she replied, "A recital is a type or performance, usually for dancing. You know what dancing is, right?"

"Yes I know what dancing is!" He angrily hissed back, still feeling tricked from earlier.

His eyes grew wide for talking back to her, something he learned a long time ago to never do to her. His hand slammed fearfully over his mouth, yet Gaz made no move to maim him.

At his response, she merely shrugged and said, "That was a dick move on my part, so let's call it even, okay?"

Zim didn't know the meaning of that one word, but he knew the rest and merely nodded.

Whiner. Anything to save his own skin.

She snickered at him again, and he kept himself calm this time, as he elaborated, "Yeah- well- even by inferior, human standards, the clearly superior vision spheres of Zim have never seen this spinning and leaping dance at school dances."

"That's because it's an old, fancy dance. Earth has tons of outdated dances."

"And what is the dance you were doing? The one that makes you look all-" he trailed off as he found himself at a loss for words. He unconsciously began to wiggle his arm in imitation of a snake, or a wave, or just water. "All liquid-y?"

"Fluidly. The word you're looking for is fluidly, and what happened to humans flailing about like a space alien?"

Zim looked away from her. Pfft. Typical. As he cleared his throat once more, and mumbled something under his breath.

"Spit it out, Zim," she hissed, putting extra venom on his name.

He crossed his arms like a child, kicking a chunk of concrete, before he finally muttered, "You are the least terrible at it out of the group."

Gaz took a deep breath as she fought back the heat in her cheeks, crossing her arms across her chest in what she'd call defiance.

Others would call it protectively. Of course, those others were wrong.

"Thanks, I think. I'm glad somebody liked my dancing. Oh, and by the way, it's called ballet."

"But what does this bullet dance-"

"Ballet."

"Have anything to do with hypnosis?"

Gaz wanted to facepalm at this.

"I just said it wasn't hypnosis. It's an after school activity, like Dib and his stupid marching band or soccer."

"But you are not a server drone! You're of much higher quality than that. I can understand an activity that's a competition like with the game of the ball kicking, but as you said this is to perform, to entertain others? Why would little Gaz want to perform for others?"

At this, Zim regretted his choice of words instantly, as it was like a switch had gone off in Little Gaz's head as she immediately reacted. However, unlike the pain he expected, which would be a welcome change at this point, she took a few steps back, sitting down and turning away all in one movement.

In human terms, he had fucked up, and had fucked up badly.

He clicked his claws together nervously, unsure of his next course of action.

"You...are..." he paused. He needed to choose his words carefully. "You are... unsatisfied?"

"Understatement of the century." Gaz quipped back sarcastically to hide the bubbling emotions that wanted to come to the surface.

"What is it that unsatisfied you, and why are you here and not down there or dooming what ails you?" He asked as he quietly approached. She seemed to be of sound enough mind.

"Zim, if you actually want me to answer then you have to stop asking questions."

He froze in place, just an arms length away. He pondered if he should take a step back, before she took a shuddering breath, and answered, "I'm up here for the same reason I joined this stupid activity."

Finding himself not doomed and nothing was on fire, Zim sat down next to her, imitating her pose of having her knees drawn up to his chest and arms around his knees. He glanced over once more, yet still remained silent.

At his quiet puzzlement, Gaz let out an exasperated sigh as she reflexively covered her face. She didn't want to be here, up here, like this...she should've known better...she did know better, but she left herself hope. Now she was up here with Zim of all people. It was quite ironic if she thought about it. Funny actually.

At the sound of her snicker, he thought she had fooled him again. However, as he turned to face her and to yell, he stopped short as the water droplets dripped down her face.

Zim recoiled as he watched her throw her head back to laugh and cry at the same time. He nervously drummed his claws against the roof tiles, completely unsettled by her insane behavior. Worse still that it was so out of character for someone like her. He merely gulped and remained where sat. Too afraid to move.

"Ya know, it's fucking ironic that the people who like me, aren't even here for me, yet you're here! You! You the alien who hates humans is here for performance and my own family isn't!" Gaz barked out between laughs.

"But the Dib-foot, he is-"

"Is only here because he followed you here. I know. I ran into him before coming up here," she said this time, only a bit quieter as her laughter turned into quiet, choked sobs.

Zim watched her curl herself further into a ball as she desperately wiped at her face, as if just realizing tears were leaking down her cheeks.

Zim looked all around him. There had to be something there to distract the Gaz. Surely something he could set on fire or tip over to cause her devious laughter to spring forth from her and not this crummy...not laughter!

However, he found nothing, and his gaze returned to her once more. What to do? What to do? What to do?!

Gaz stilled as she suddenly felt something touching her hair. It felt like a mix of a pet and a pat like someone who didn't know how to touch others.

She almost wanted to laugh at the mental picture within her head. Even if they weren't the only two on the roof, it was no surprise who this was. After all, nobody else was stupid enough to touch her. Another side of her wanted to break his hand, and the final part of her wanted to see where he would go with this.

"There...there? Yes, there there Little Gaz. Do not fret. Ultra Peepi will live up- Wait-"

Zim frowned and pulled back, rubbing his chin pensively as he realized that was the wrong scenario.

Luckily, despite being unintended, it seemed to work as Zim heard a snicker escape her. His head whipped around to see the liquid had stopped falling, yet she still hid her face from Zim.

Well, it was a start.

There was a moment of silence between them where neither of them dared to say anything. Gaz ran the jagged edge of bitten nail against her shoe, and Zim stretched his legs out, boredly clicked his heels together.

Although, something had to give. Zim was going bonkers with curiosity as he exaggeratedly fought with himself, internally, of whether or not he should say something or to her or something.

When he finally couldn't take it anymore with his shuffling antics, he leaned over, claw raised, and mouth open ready to interrogate her for brain worms left over from the hypnosis, yet she beat him to it.

"You have no idea what's going on, do you?" She stated more as a fact than a question.

"Eh? Was I supposed to?"

Gaz merely shook her head, yet it was unclear if she was dismissing his answer or herself for the question. He wanted to ask more, but the white knuckled grip she had upon her shoe ribbons kept him silent.

Good thing too, as she continued, "Ya know how my dad has been home a lot more? He's been trying to do better at the whole being a dad thing."

Zim listened attentively, but he was unsure why. It's not like it was important to him. Then again... that which was important to the Dib-sister must be important; however, he found his gaze drifting to her hands as they roughly began to untie one of her shoe ribbons.

It was best when in the presence of a predator to keep an eye on their greatest weapons. The only reason. Not because of how merciless she made the frantic job of shoe untying.

"He asked us why we didn't participate in any school activities or if we had any other interests." He flinched as he heard the earthly stitching rip slightly at the extra force she used when she said activities and interests.

"He wanted to expand our horizons and to be supportive of us."

Zim lit up at this, having finally found an opening, as he quipped, "And he did unsatisfactory?"

Zim immediately regretted speaking as she violently slid off her right shoe, and threw it at the gate lining the roof, to make sure people didn't fall off.

Zim scooted backwards as it softly bounced back to them, landing right beside his boot.

Although, despite her lashing out, what she said next surprised him. "Oh no. He did great. Wonderful even! He's been there every step of the way with my dancing and Dib's whatever!"

Zim narrowed his eyes at her as she began to work on her other shoe. Her tone suggested sarcasm, yet he could also tell she meant it. She wasn't lying.

Zim shook his head to ward off his confusion. She was apparently committed to telling him. He just needed to listen.

"But, as you've noticed, he's not here!"

Another rip of her shoe ribbon.

"He's not here, for once, not because of work, but because he decided to be a normal dad and decided to get here in a normal car!"

Two more rips.

"And a normal," rip, "car can't get by a four car pile up on a freeway!"

She yanked her shoe off and threw it at the gate, as she exclaimed louder than intended, "He's not here like always! I got my hopes up, I was let down like always, but it's not his fault and I can't even be mad at him!"

The final shoe bounced back and landed next to her this time. She paid it no mind as she began to rub at her feet and ankles, sore from the months of practice and from rehearsals earlier that day. "He says traffic is backed up and there's no way for him to turn around, and it's going to be hours before they let traffic through. Which means all of my effort, all of my hardwork to make him proud has been for nothing because he won't get to see it!"

The wind picked up around them, but they paid it no mind. Too consumed with their own thoughts to notice.

Neither were willing to say anything. At least, not until Zim spoke first.

"I wouldn't say it was all for nothing, even if it is just an inferior earth activity." Zim shuddered as she sent him a pointed glare that spoke volumes.

It said, you better have a good point or perish.

He gulped.

"What I mean is that you learned a new skill? One that even a highly advanced creature, such as Zim, must admit is quite amazing." He picked up the nearest shoe, analyzing it, as he pondered allowed, "I mean, how is that you spin on the tips of your hooves"

"Feet."

"And leap so high?"

"Practice?"

"And move like an Irken elite?"

Gaz gave no reply at that, and Zim immediately feared he had screwed up. He whipped his head around to see if he should run, but was pleasantly surprised to see a small smile upon her face.

His squeedily spooch simultaneously stuttered and did backflips at the sight. He nervously drummed his claws against the shoe. Maybe he was not entirely unaffected by the hypnosis as he once thought.

"An elite, huh?" She inquired slyly. Two compliments in one night. A new record. If this were a game, she'd surely have unlocked an achievement of some kind.

"Y-yes! As a superior Irken Invader, who are only picked from the most elite of the elite, such greatness can't hide from my magnificent vision."

She smirked at what should have been his clean getaway of his third compliment hidden beneath all of that bragging, if not for the dark emerald fish staining across his cheeks; meanwhile averting any and all eye contact with her.

"Greatness?"

Reeling from realizing his mistake, Zim's eyes grew as wide as dinner plates, and he made a sound that she could only describe as a verbal key smash.

Gaz couldn't help herself as a small laugh bubbled to surface. The sound made Zim's shoulders relax, but also deflated a little. He appeared conflicted, but what he said earlier still rang in her head.

Before she knew it she had picked up the other shoe, and gazed down upon it thoughtfully. "I hate to admit it, but I suppose you're right." She rolled her eyes as he puffed out his chest, before she continued, "I did learn a new skill, and it was kind of fun."

Unfortunately, her better mood turned bitter rather quickly as she gripped the shoe tightly, glaring at it, as she continued, "But what good is a skill if I can't use it? If I can't show it to the people I care about?"

"You can't?"

"That was rhetorical, but no, I can't."

"Why not? Don't human babies show off to their parents units all of the time in their dwellings?"

"Because it's not the same. They can, but, it's not the same as an actual performance. You would lack the tools and the rest of the cast. It would be like a machine missing some parts because it doesn't...fit together."

She reached atop her head, and pulled on a ribbon, setting her hair free from its tightly coiled bun. She shook her head with a scoff, as she remarked, "I guess this skill will just go to waste."

She hadn't really meant it, nor did she mean anything by it. However, Zim didn't get the memo, and sprung to his feet. Ignorant of the fact that he dropped the shoe Zim shouted, "No you can't!"

Gaz's wide eyes quickly turned back to their normal, apathetic facade, as she inquired, "And why can't I?"

"Because the mighty Zim demands it!"

"Yeah, well I demand my foot up your-"

"No- I- Grrragh! Look! You look not unpleasant when you do it, and it makes you stronger for it!"

"But I don't have anyone to wat-"

"You have me! Teach to Zim!"

Okay, now Gaz was stumped. Forget the fact that Zim was asking a human to teach him a human thing, but she didn't even mention teaching.

"Okay, you've lost me."

"Heh heh heh, foolish human-babe-"

"Watch it-"

"-y. I any human can watch another perform a skill, but it takes skill to learn a skill, and Zim is the most skilled of skilled Irkens. Besides, it's best to stay in practice, and will keep you on your toes."

"That made no sense and that last part sounded more like a spar, but I'll bite. So what's the catch?"

"Eh? Catch? Like human germs?"

"Nevermind. Look, just don't screw me over later."

"I would never."

She glared at him as she stood, brushing herself off without breaking eye contact.

Zim cleared his throat. "Starting now, I have never screwed you over."

"Better keep your word, space bug."

"I wouldn't dare risk your wrath."

"Fair point. Now step forward."

"Wait, what about your tippy shoes."

"They're pointe shoes, and I don't need them."

"Why?"

"Because I'm not teaching you ballet."

"But-"

She didn't let him finish as she pulled him closer by the hips, almost slamming into her. She smirked as he squeaked.

"We don't have months, Zim. Besides, ballet isn't the only dance I learned." With that said, she grabbed his left hand with her right, interlacing their mismatched fingers far easier than she anticipated. "Now put your right hand on my shoulder."

He did as instructed, and she couldn't help but quote her teacher, as she scolded, "Keep it there softly. Don't grip it like a claw machine."

Immediately the pressure relented and she sighed a little in relief. She placed her hand around his waist. Her cheeks began to heat, or they would've, if he didn't look rather smug at that moment.

It took a second for her to realize, and she rolled her eyes.

"I'm only two centimeters shorter than you, ya know?"

"Two glorious units of measurement."

Oh it was on. She didn't give him time, as she jumped right in with the bare minimum of explanation. "Now where I go, you go. Follow my lead."

Zim opened his mouth to object, but quickly found her surging forward, ready to bowl him over. Thankfully, with his far superior Irken training, he swiftly back stepped without falling over...more or less.

"Back, side, forward, other side, repeat." They did it again, and he did rather well.

"Not bad. No stepping on feet and no stumbles, except for that one," Despite her jab at the end, Zim lit up at her praise and puffed his chest out once more like the proudest peacock that ever peacocked.

"Okay, now we do that while spinning and moving in a circle."

"Do wha-" and they were moving again.

Zim stumbled once more, as she purposefully caught him off guard. Couldn't let him get too cocky.

"And what is this dance called?"

"The waltz."

"Is it also old and fancy?"

"Very old and very fancy."

"Fancier than ballet?"

"No."

He deflated a little at that and she chuckled at that. Zim frowned that she was laughing at his expense, but it wasn't an unpleasant laugh. I'm fact, it was one he wouldn't mind hearing again. They easily fell into a rhythm after that, as they whirled around in their tiny circle like two stars rotating around each other. Lost in their own little world.

Her wispy skirt fluttered and flared with every movement and dancing upon the occasional breeze. He finally understood the need to make satire out of such flimsy material.

Not long after Zim made this observation, did he realize another. There was a soft melody in the air that he hadn't noticed before. It was one of the few he recognized from one of her practices, yet it was different somehow. Only when Gaz stepped forward and into his distracted chest did he feel the vibration coming from her, and he realized she was humming.

He found that this was also not unpleasant.

In fact, many things about Little Gaz were mostly not unpleasant, and that was fine by him.

#zagr #zagf #zagr discord #Word Prompt #rooftop #dance #Invader Zim #Gaz Membrane #Gazlene Membrane #Zim #Had a lot of fun writing this #ballet #The Nutcracker #Waltz

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inyournightmares97 · 6 years ago

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We need more Yugyeom fluff!!! number 2 please :)

A/N: We really DO need more Yugyeom fluff, don’t we? No worries, I have a lot of Yugyeom requests left in my inbox, haha. I’ll try and do them soon. Hope you enjoy this one!

Yugyeom + “They may not understand you, but I do.”

You were bored out of your mind.

Yugyeom was staring at the television screen completely enraptured. He was watching a romance kdrama; one that he’d already seen before but he had loved it so much that he was willing to rewatch it so that he could show it to you and Bambam. Except Bambam was now fast asleep on the floor while clutching one of the couch cushions to his chest and you were sitting silently on the couch, having run out of popcorn and wanting to kill yourself.

“How many more episodes are there?” you asked.

Yugyeom lifted a hand to shush you. “Don’t speak, this is a really romantic part!”

“Yeah, I know. They play this infernal song every time the leads are having a moment, there is literally no suspense because you can hear the song coming from a mile away,” you complained. You had watched your fair share of cheesy kdramas because of your boyfriend but this one was just absurd. Yugyeom could not seriously have enjoyed this stupid drama. “And the whole thing about the guy living through generations and stuff? Doesn’t it remind you of Twilight?”

Yugyeom frowned at you. “It’s not Twilight! You should know that Goblin is a critically acclaimed drama and it’s gotten excellent reviews even from reputed media sources-”

You cut him off. “I’m sorry, I just can’t ignore the elephant in the room any longer. Isn’t the male lead way too old for her?”

“Age doesn’t matter in love!” Yugyeom gasped, horrified.

You tried to grab for the remote so that you could change this stupid drama to something else but Yugyeom held it out of your reach with a pout. Ugh. Why was he so adorable? You wouldn’t have put up with this nonsense for anybody else, but Yugyeom had a way of making you feel all soft inside. He’d speak to you with a cheerful smile and his bright eyes shining excitedly, and you just wouldn’t have the heart so say no. It was how Yugyeom had convinced you to go out with him, and the reason why you’d been dating for over a year.

“Give-me-that! I want to watch something more interesting!”

“No! You promised that you would watch Goblin with me!”

“I thought there would be actual goblins and that it would be scary, you didn’t tell me it was a cheesy romance that drags on forever while the main leads have an unhealthy age gap!” you protested, grabbing hold of Yugyeom’s arm and climbing over the couch to lunge for the remote. You flopped down on top of him, your chest pressed against his, but his unnaturally long arms were still beyond your reach.

“No! You promised to watch it!”

“Well, I changed my mind!”

Yugyeom giggled as you tried to climb over him and grab the remote. He knew that you stood no chance against him and he buried his face in your neck and pressed a soft kiss to your skin. You shivered slightly, momentarily deterred from your mission to get the remote. Yugyeom kissed your neck again, one arm sliding around your waist while the other still held the remote above his head.

“Stop it,” you mumbled, flustered.

“No. You’re playing dirty, so I will too,” he told you with a pout. You put your hands on his shoulders and let him kiss you before you pulled away and bit your lip. Your cheeks had gone pink and you had almost forgotten why you were trying to get the remote from him. Yugyeom smiled triumphantly as he kissed you again and gently pushed you off himself, setting you back in your original seat.

You folded your arms across your chest and glared at him. “I hate you.”

“Well, I love you,” he told you sweetly. “And I’ll show you just how much after we’re done watching this drama.”

“Screw you.”

But you leaned back and folded your arm across your chest patiently while Yugyeom played the drama again. He peered down under the sofa where Bambam was still fast asleep on the floor and nudged him awake with his foot. “Bambam! Get up, this is the most important scene! He’s about to find out that she can really see the sword!”

Bambam opened one eye and looked up at Yugyeom with a murderous glare.

“Fuck off, Yugyeom,” he grumbled.

Yugyeom merely shrugged and leaned back as he hugged the remote to his chest lovingly. “They may not understand you, but I do,” he promised the screen with a sigh. You merely turned and smiled at Yugyeom. Maybe it was kind of cute that he loved these stupid dramas so much. You rested your head on Yugyeom’s shoulder and smiled at him. Maybe you could give it a chance.

“So, what happens next?” you asked lightly.

“No spoilers! You have to watch it and find out! We have about seven episodes left!” he said eagerly.

Ugh. Never mind.

#got7 #got7 scenarios #got7 fluff #kim yugyeom #yugyeom fluff #yugyeom scenarios #yugyeom drabble #yugyeom imagine #got7 imagines #got7 drabbles #got7 angst #got7 reactions #yugyeom #got7 yugyeom

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dawnasiler · 6 years ago

Text

Her Skincare Secrets: An Interview With Gloria and Victoria, Founders Of Chemist Confessions

If you’re on Instagram and haven’t heard of Chemist Confessions, you must be living under a rock.

Started by beauty myth busters Victoria and Gloria, the quirky Instagram account decodes the ingredient lists of your fave products, debunks common skincare misconceptions and marketing nonsense, and gives honest skincare reviews – all with the help of cute graphic that makes skincare science fun and easy to understand.

It all started when Victoria and Gloria were working as chemists for L’Oreal. As much as they loved creating products that fixed people’s skincare woes, they soon grew frustrated by the lack of transparency and hyped up marketing claims in the industry.

That’s when they decided to fly solo and create their own skincare brand, Chemist Confessions. Going back to basics, the line features 4 moisturisers in all kinds of textures – from oils to watery gels – to suit every skin type. Because retinol & co are important, but without a proper foundation, they won’t give you the results you crave.

In this interview, Victoria and Gloria share their own skincare secrets. Read on to find out more about their skincare routines and what products/habits are keeping their skin in top shape:

1. When did you become interested in skincare?

Victoria: I probably became interested once I started having acne. So probably around 12 years old. Nothing makes you more motivated to have a skincare routine then trying to fight pimples and my routine back then was awful. I did everything to to dry it out, cleansers, astringents, 10% BPO, and no moisturizer for fear of making the breaking out worse. I also tried all sorts of OTC products from antibiotics to retinoids. Actually struggling with acne for a decade and dealing with the growing pains that come with that, motivated me to do research in the field during college.

Gloria: My skin has always been on the dry side, which means I was mostly spared of acne issues in my teenage years. But college hit me hard. The long nights studying, the extreme cold weather, the not so great eating habits all took a toll on my skin. I was seeing fine lines popping up prematurely compared to my peers. That’s when I started a cycle of blindly buying a bunch of products and developed an avid interest in skincare.

2. What’s your skincare routine like?

Victoria: Currently with the colder weather my routine in the morning is Aquafix water gel and Mr. Reliable moisturizer plus an SPF 50. At night, I wash my face and then do the same routine of Aquafix and Mr. Reliable combo. Other things that get inserted are AHA/retinol treatments (twice a month) and sheet masks whenever I just want to take it easy.

Gloria: My skincare routine is:

Day: Aquafix – home concoction of CE Ferulic serum – the better oil – la roche posay anthelios sunscreen

Night: Cleanser (changes depending on what I’m testing) – Aquafix – AHA (product changes depends on what I’m testing out) – the Better oil – dab Balm Voyage on trouble spots ( mostly my ‘mustache zone’ which tends to be drier and more flake prone than other parts)

3. If you could only use three skincare products for the rest of your life, what would they be?

Victoria: Moisturizer, Sunscreen, Cleanser. I think with that trio, you’ve covered about 99% of the core skincare upkeep.

Gloria: Cleanse – moisturize – sun protection … though its cruel to limit to one per category, this is the holy trinity of skincare

4. What are your fave skincare brands and why?

Victoria: Ours! ( just a dash of bias haha!). But La Roche Posay and CeraVe would probably be my favorite. La Roche Posay has all sorts of sunscreen textures so it’s a great go to brand to find the right texture and SPF level that works for your skin. CeraVe’s hydrating cleanser and lotions are always a reliable starting point.

Gloria: Other than ourselves? I’m a fan of skinceuticals’ work in active skincare. Paula’s Choice also has some great reliable options. Texture wise I love my Japanese skincare like Hada Labo and Kose!

5. What are your top 3 skincare tips to take care of your skin?

Victoria: My top 3 skincare tips are:

Cop out tip but wear sunscreen!

Keep the routine manageable to stay consistent. A simple routine that you can stick to is better than trying to stack in 15 layer routine. You ultimately get a better understanding of your skin and develop good habits that fit your lifestyle.

Patience! When skin has its bad days, it’s easy to want to nuke your face with all sorts of high powered actives. Instead, introduce one or two new actives to help your skin out and stick with it. It’s much easier for your skin to adapt to one or two than 20, especially since it’s already not doing too great.

Gloria: My top 3 skincare tips are:

Solidify your core cleanse – moisturize – sun protection routine first. Finding reliable products that you can always fall back on in these 3 categories is key to long term skincare success. We get that trying new, sexy products that promises your the moon is tempting (guilty!), but knowing who your workhorses are pays off in the long run. With skincare, consistency in these 3 categories is key.

Listen to your skin. There’s a lot of fear mongering out there. You might have a cream that’s served you great for years… then see an article on how the dimethicone in this cream is actually destroying your skin then be tempted to throw it out. If it works for you, stick to it!

Know your active holy grail. There are a few tried-and-true ingredients in skincare: AHA, retinol, vitamin C, niacinamide, etc to name a few. You don’t necessarily need to cram all of them into your routine, but strategically incorporating one or 2 of them in your routine long term could be a game changer.

6. What skincare treatments do you regularly have done?

Victoria: None at the moment but we recently got to work with and learn from a master aesthetician. After the lesson, I really want to try a few micro needling sessions. Mainly because it’s relatively painless, the healing time is minimal, and the results look pretty enticing.

Gloria: I haven’t been able to get any regular treatments for a long time now with Chemist Confessions keeping our work schedule hectic. I used to love getting a dermabrasion + peel combo done once a month or so.

7. What lifestyle habits do you have that keep your skin in top shape?

Victoria: I don’t think I’m actually achieving these but my main goals are exercise and sleep. Work gets in the way sometimes,�� but just getting quality sleep and a little exercise definitely elevates my mood and attention span during the day so it’s something I aim for.

Gloria: Sleep! This could be really difficult when we’re traveling to all sorts of different time zones and climates for work. But I make sure I go everywhere with my eye mask + melatonin gummy. Good quality sleep is the difference maker.

8. What’s in your makeup bag?

Victoria: Balm voyage, eyeliner (Kiss Me Heroine), eyebrow pencil (Missha), liquid foundation (Giorgio Armani), and Bite Beauty’s Chai. Also a travel size roller ball of miumiu’s leau bleu! Love that scent!

Gloria: Liquid Eyeliner (Kiss Me Heroine), mascara (kiss me heroine long & curl), lash curler, Benefit Give Me Brow, a MUFE neutral eyeshadow palette, a few lipsticks (Bite and Hourglass are my favorite ATM!)

Thank you, Victoria and Gloria!

Don’t forget to check out their website and skincare range at Chemist Confessions. You can also keep up with Victoria and Gloria on Facebook and Instagram.

Take The Guesswork Out Of Skincare Shopping

Get access to the “Pro Skincare Library” for exclusive skincare routine “cheat sheets” and tricks to help you navigate the beauty aisles jungle like a pro and immediately know what to pick off the shelves to achieve the gorgeous skin of your dreams - even when you’re drowning in an endless sea of skincare products.

Success! Now check your email to confirm your subscription and get access to the skin library.

Her Skincare Secrets: An Interview With Gloria and Victoria, Founders Of Chemist Confessions syndicated from beautifulwithbrains.com

#skincare #beauty #makeup

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peakwealth · 6 years ago

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The Will of the People (2)

The Public Against the Public Interest

“To the fool-king belongs the world.“

(Friedrich Schiller, 1759-1805)

January 20, 2017 in Washington, DC. Day one of the new age when reality turned liquid. (Screenshot)

Of all the canaries twittering away in the coal mine of Western dystopia, the one that chants about infant immunizations must be among the loudest. The other day I noticed a picture taken during a demo of people opposed to the compulsory immunization of their children. One of the so-called antivaxxers held up a printed sign that read

STIFLE

UNCOMFY

SCIENCE

The words have shock value for they capture the present revolt against reason and empiricism, against what is perceived by many as the unsettling, uncomfy nature of science -- as if it were a stained old IKEA sofa to be dragged onto the sidewalk and disposed of before dawn. The notion has taken hold that if science makes you feel bad, if it doesn't resonate with your inner self, or your religious faith, you can simply reject it. Opt for 'science' you are comfortable with, be it pseudoscience or complete bogus. Or no science at all.

There is of course nothing new about the discomfort caused by science or by any other sort of manifestly rational knowledge. The late German philosopher Norbert Elias (1) explains, as have countless others, how the human species, once it has domesticated the forces of nature, ends up feeling disenchanted. When the world is no longer revealed through religious myth but through reason, it turns out to be a thoroughly unsettling place. Existence itself, stripped of magic and fantasy, is a sobering affair. And the closer nature is examined, the less it shows any sign of making sense. It seems to lack the deeper logic that humans have always craved to give purpose to their short, insecure lives.

In other words, when reality does not match our hopes and dreams, many of us will reject it out of hand. But, says Elias, we have to grow up, we have to get over it: the universe is neither good nor bad, it is blind and doesn't care about us.

There we have it. In a blind universe, not only is there no god and no devil, there is no Santa either.

To make matters worse, observable reality isn't what it used to be. Ever since it came up with the story of Adam and Eve, authority has looked upon factual knowledge with suspicion. Knowledge was and still is equated with arrogance and transgression. For thousands of years, religions have ignored or contradicted rational thinking and have instead provided comfort to those terrified by the unknown as well as to those who revel in it.

But as science is not compatible with religious dogma, so empirical knowledge necessarily challenges ignorance. When science expands as rapidly as it does today, the world inevitably becomes a more disorienting place to people who are suspicious of the modern age and of all its complexity. Rather than bending their convictions to accommodate the evidence before them, they resent science for failing to provide the reassurance that will allow them to sleep at night.

Rational thinking can only go so far. Lacking transcendence and being a purely human enterprise, science is 'only' a process based on the best available evidence and therefore liable to change over time. It does not provide absolute answers and is therefore as powerless as ever against the rigid beliefs suggested by tradition and sanctioned by society.

The quest for unscientific answers never ends (Jehovah’s witness, 2016, Buffalo, NY, USA)

Again, such stubbornness is hardly new. Back in 1801, Friedrich Schiller wrote the famous line that "against stupidity, the gods themselves contend in vain" (in the somewhat less elegant German original: Mit der Dummheit kämpfen Götter selbst vergebens). This leads me to surmise that today's problem is perhaps less with the discomfort produced by scientific relativism as with the word stifle, the aggressive readiness to sweep reality under the rug, to look the other way, claiming it is 'part of a vast cover-up'.

In this respect I may be behind the times. A few years ago I started hearing the argument that reason and science were evil ploys used by the elites to keep the people down. (Tellingly perhaps, the same was said about literacy or correct spelling as another tool of oppression).

Uninhibited anti-intellectualism like this has gained traction. It was adopted by right-wing extremists around the time when hooliganism morphed into political revolt, when the ultras, the heavies, les casseurs emerged from their soccer stadiums and moved into politics - identity politics.

But why? It is easy to point at the effects of capitalism or the intuitions of steamroller materialism (impulse shopping, binge watching, uncontrolled eating...) which in turn have given rise to impulse politics and gut-based decision making as exemplified by Donald Trump. I persist in thinking that at least some of today's populism finds its roots in trash culture, the unrelenting cult of celebrity, in computer games, spectator sports and so-called reality TV, all of which spread symbiotically in the late 20th century.

They ended up infantilizing a broad section of the population and unmooring them from evidence-based thinking. The resulting narcissism of the selfie generation and their lack of empathy then went on to infect the internet (2). Add the rising incidence of educational failure in 'advanced' societies and a new age of ignorance, superstition and triviality has emerged.

With his ample background in reality TV, Donald Trump quickly came to epitomize a post-political age where elections were popularity contests or open invitations to insurrection. The ballot box must look increasingly quaint in an age of web manipulation and click-farming where "influencers" gather vast constituencies of "followers" on Twitter or Instagram.

‘DEUS OMNIA VIDET’: from an all-knowing god to an all-seeing internet. (London,UK, 2018)

The internet has thrown everything wide open. Without reliable gatekeepers to police the discourse or to catch post-factual nonsense, it has given free rein to people who distrust reason and dislike complexity. It also suggests that, just as there is convenient and inconvenient science, there is a good truth and a bad truth, and that one is free to choose between them.

Before the internet became universal, factual reality was better shielded from manifest unreason or scientific deviancy. All kinds of people held all manner of wild ideas, as ever, but there was a cordon sanitaire around them that kept them at a distance. In order to publish scientific findings, for instance, you needed academic credentials and peer reviews. Getting any book published was a big deal. Access to the old media, far fewer in number and therefore more influential, was similarly restricted, ring-fenced, filtered by professionals whose job it was to check and double-check information. Such a system of checks and balances may have been perceived as censorship or elitism by some, but it kept the madmen out of the room.

Not any more. The unmediated democratization of access has meant that anyone with an easy onscreen manner, no matter their lack of qualifications, can build up a following of millions. What works for make-up tutorials on YouTube can also do wonders to subvert the political process.

Liberated from restraint and social control, it wasn’t long before the web turned toxic. It was overwhelmed by conspiratorial fantasies, doublespeak and torrents of resentment.

Conspiracy thinking derives from paranoid disbelief, the haha! suspicion that things are not what they appear to be, and seems to be as intuitive as belief itself. It can be argued that one is indistinguishable from the other.

Belief in alternative medicine, in magic and miracles has been around for ages, as have religious practices such as the refusal to accept life-saving blood transfusions. Sometimes reason and paranoia actually intersect as in the perfectly rational distrust of big pharma. Generally, though, amalgamation is central to conspiracy thinking, as is the malicious disregard for observable reality.

The world changed two days after Donald Trump's was sworn in as president of the United States when photographs showed that the crowds along Washington's National Mall were much smaller than those at Barack Obama's inauguration. Not so, said Kellyanne Conway, a member of Trump's inner circle, they had 'alternative facts'. The photographs were not to be believed, your eyes deceived you. It was a historic moment. Trump's assault on reason, irrefutable facts and the media who report them hasn't stopped since that day.

Needless to say, post-truthism or postmodern disinformation didn't start with Donald Trump. Born-again George W. Bush was famously disconnected from reality, perhaps never more so than when he mistakenly declared war on Saddam Hussein in 2003 or when, standing on the deck of an American aircraft carrier only a few weeks later, he declared 'mission accomplished'.

But Donald Trump has created a matrix of all-out lies, disinformation and utter incoherence that is unprecedented and stands in the way of meaningful governance. Trump declares white to be black, only to reverse himself two minutes later and when confronted with the evidence of what he just said, turns around and says it's fake news. And his political constituency doesn't seem to mind.

Defactualization and magical thinking are now around every corner. Farcical as it may seem, some people continue to embrace the belief that mass shootings in the US are inside jobs staged by actors, that 9/11 was an obvious fabrication or, more insidiously perhaps, that European Union bureaucrats in Brussels are to blame for anaemic vacuum cleaners or dim light bulbs forced upon the United Kingdom.

Facilitated by social media, regression has corrupted politics and fed an us-against-them narrative. After moving into the mainstream with Donald Trump, it was embraced by populist imitators such as Italy's Movimento 5 Stelle (Five-star movement). They swept the elections in Italy's underprivileged, undereducated Mezzogiorno earlier this year. As a result, conspiracy theorists are now part of the ruling coalition in Rome and the incidence of measles is on the rise as unvaccinated children spread the disease. Politics in Poland and Hungary have similarly been upended by paranoia, anti-establishment rhetoric and outright anti-Semitism.

Wave after wave of primitivism and voter rage are destabilizing Western societies. Some of that anger has been a long time coming. Politics has lacked credibility for decades. Europe's leadership has been weak and often asleep at the wheel. In failing to assert its historical legitimacy, the gilded bureaucracy in Brussels has become an easy target of popular fury, no matter how uninformed or ill-advised.

The big, ugly question has become this: what to do, in representative democracies with universal franchise, when the will of the people is increasingly at variance with the public interest?

How can governments be expected to govern when hostile voters support irrational, counterproductive governance? How does the British government go about implementing Brexit, a decision imposed by a belligerent electorate against the country's manifest interest? How can the European Union continue when so many members of its own parliament oppose the very idea of a united Europe?

The Roman empire took centuries to unravel. We live in speedier times.

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(1) Norbert Elias (1897-1990): Humana conditio (1985)

(2) ‘They Laughed at Berlusconi’ http://peakwealth.tumblr.com/post/146399295392