#he stands up for the little guys. hes anti capitalist. he loves his best friend. he tells humans not to kill themselves.

[justabunchofdragons]

watching good omens s2 & remembering how truly insane crowley makes me

[m1ssunderstanding]

Get Back Rewatch 55 Years On: Day Five

The thing is I absolutely love the album that comes out of this mess. Like I know a lot of people do not like Let It Be, but so many of my favorite songs are on it. One of them being “I Me Mine.” The walz element is haunting, and I can read the lyrics as anti-capitalist even though George himself mostly wasn’t. 

Laughing my head off at two boys from one of the best grammar schools in England, who have at this point made millions off of their writing, genuinely not knowing whether it should be “more freer” or “more freely”

The difference in how George shows Paul his new song vs John is striking. For Paul, he’s relaxed, nonchalant. For John, he stands up and performs it. And I think both are a defense mechanism, poor baby, because clearly, although Paul was very supportive of the song while they were alone, when John is roasting it, Paul just laughs along and George has to go “I don’t give a fuck whether you like it.” 

Ah, the famous “up-against-a-wall” conversation. Paul comes in all dominant and sure. “Haven’t you written anything else? Haven’t you?” But then John touches him, and makes him laugh, and Paul’s a melted, goo-goo-eyes mess. This is the real reason why John got to be the leader isn’t it? Because Paul was too damn soft on him to ever follow through with his bossiness.

Their scouse sounds BEAUTIFUL compared to the stupid ugly RP and MLH’s transatlantic shit.

“And now John’d like to say a few words on the subject.” John starts singing, Paul strums along and joins in on the “chorus.” They can’t communicate like healthy people, but they Can do this. 

So Peter Jackson took out Paul’s bitchy nod at Yoko as he’s stealing her man in real time right in front of her eyes. Unforgivable. But he kept in this adorable laugh, so that’s something. 

Three more covers that I think *mean something* “Stand By Me” and “Spinning Like a Top” by Paul, followed by “You Win Again” by John. Yoko’s sweet little shoulder kiss. Thank you for taking care of the poor wet kitten, girly. Maybe don’t introduce the poor wet kitten to heroine, but you do you, I guess. (OP recognizes that poor wet kitten is also an adult capable of making his own decisions)

The cut from Paul literally dancing to get John’s attention straight to John dancing with Yoko while inside Paul’s head a silver hammer is clanging ominously. I can’t. Followed by the knowing, loving smile from Ringo to Paul. You know, those moments when you validate your friend’s bitchy thoughts with a look. 

George is literally SO big inside himself, you know? You have to have superhuman self-love abilities to watch your friend – who is supposed to be helping you – shamelessly make fun of your art . . . and just “Do you wanna do that walz on the show? That’d be great.”

But did you guys know John was actually a really great mover?

“Yes, alright. Just sod off.” I love John. Paul’s people-pleasing ass would literally die first and he needs John to do this kind of shit for him and John’s only too happy to.

The moment when Paul and John are on the same wavelength about Dennis O’Dell’s stage. 

OK but. Did John get the clear plastic idea from Yoko’s art exhibits? 

“Any time we do anything it’s always got to be the best.” Poor Ringo. They’re all literally so tired of carrying so much weight for such a long time. 

“See, I’d watch an hour of him just playing the piano. Cause he’s so great.” With that fond, loving, smile. SUCH big dick energy here. The others could NEVER. 

“And I’ll have the plastic when you’re finished.” Literally for what, though? John, you little hoarding goblin. 

And then Ringo responding to MLH’s “I love you” with “Yes, I love you too.” Yeah, Ringo wins the prize for most healthy beatle of the day. 

*Pattie Boyd voice* “I just wish I knew what was going on there. But something. Something.”

Ugh, John looks so hurt. So tender. So heartbroken. While Paul is over there playing a damn funeral march because that’s the only way he lets himself express anything. But I actually love how Dennis O’Dell knows the clearest path to cheering John up is to say that Paul liked his idea. And how well it works. They’re literally so obvious to everyone but themselves. 

I love the bit when John walks in on the rest of them discussing the live show and MLH calls, “We’ve decided. We’re going to Africa.” And Paul hurries to cut in, “No we’re NOT.” Because he knows exactly how John can get and he’s going to nip this in the bud before John gets let down. And of course, John is all “YEAH LETS GO LETS GO!” And he’s talking about how they always wish they were recording abroad. “We could be in LA, or FRANCE.” (side eye emoji) 

Paul’s “Well said, John.” and “I’ve seen it, John. I went to the premiere. I thought you were great.” Why do all your compliments to him have to be in silly voices? Like, I know you think everyone is going to call you a pussy for saying something genuinely kind to your best friend, but they’re not, and he needs it. 

Holy shit this was a long day. See you all tomorrow with another long-winded-ass post.

[crimsun-n-clover]

the show went alright. had a bunch of people go “THOSE SCREAMS WERE FUCKING GNARLYYYY” so i’d say it was mostly successful.

the metal show was first, and despite some technical difficulties and my guitarist almost having a goddamn breakdown, we fucking killed it.

the punk one??? not so much. our new guitarist fucking sucks. he’s a great guy, and he’s really good about learning riffs well and quickly, but he can’t play smoothly or in time at ALL. and a keyboardist applied and we thought we scared her off but she came back so we were just like. okay. we have someone who plays KEYS in a PUNK BAND now. she earned that shit but i really do feel bad. i kinda forgot a lot of the last song we played but hey man, as a bassist? wasn’t that obvious compared to how bad the guitar sounded.

i’m not dogging on him or anything, i always help him with his amp at practice and we stand next to each other on stage. he’s a solid kid. does martial arts and shit like that. if our drummer doesn’t jump his bones and then WHOOPS nasty breakup!! we should be fine yk? we just gotta let him get used to it i guess.

god i miss my favorite kiddo SO fucking much. i miss having someone to unlock pvp twice a week at practice. i miss having a tiny little genius around who doesn’t know shit about music theory so none of the riffs she wrote made ANY fucking sense but they always sounded super fuckin metal. like woah minor pentatonic, walk down, PHRYGIAN?? you’re a weird little critter.

she’s the math kid to my english bitch. the argumentative child to my grumpy old man. the reasonable christian to my casual satanism. we fit together because of how little we fit together, but she wants to be just like me. any time i tell her about something i like or know how to do, she immediately asks me to show her or teach her how. god i love her so fuckin much. don’t tell her i said that though. her ego doesn’t need to get any higher or she’ll overthrow me.

anyways i told her she could always get me to bail her out. little bastard shouldn’t be away from bad influence for this long. she might be leaning more towards a lawful alignment now GAG

that and her parents don’t love her enough so she needs help in her jailbreak. who better than the sweet respectful one with a car and many deep encouraging little conversations to give and little presents to bestow?? i’m a goddamn SAINT as far as her family’s concerned.

OH AND i finally saw honor among thieves today after my band backed out for the THIRD. FUCKING. TIME.

twas rad. cried at the end. simon is my new meow meow. my friend was right, i am a lot like holga. i got my mom to watch it with me and she loved it despite not ever being able to keep up with my crash courses on dnd. there were so many bits of lore and different creatures and references that made me squirm autistically with the need to say “OH MY GOD OKAY SO THE THING ABOUT THAT IS—“ which i resisted with the valor of a thousand men.

it was funny, light hearted, sincere, anti capitalist, and not at all as bad as i thought it might be. it had that princess bride type of quip and situational humor, with lotr world building, which is the best i hoped for. there were compelling characters i want more of. doric didn’t get enough screen time, but i know she has a prequel book that i’ll probably read instead. i liked the chaotic good alignment of the main characters. they stole from the rich and did no harm, and i really do believe in that.

the villains were lawful evil, the heroes were chaotic good. that’s the shit i like to see. lawful evil is a very real alignment with people in power, and i’d say that chaotic good is the most optimistic alignment. although they have no hope in the law, they put others before themselves and do what it takes to make things better. it’s seen as wild, but i think it’s very loving and passionate.

anyways goodnight tumblr pray for me at practice tomorrow so i’ll be nice to our new guitarist

[carolightpenvenys]

doctors a penvenys au chapter 8

I am so sad I missed AU day of fic week! I was working! But this would’ve been my contribution! Enjoy and don’t forget to leave feedback x

Mondays were always the worst for Dr Enys.

Especially since he’d had the weekend off. But today was a Monday like no other.

Well at least it was until around midday where he was opening his Kinder Bueno and there was a knock at his door.

“Come in.” He said through a mouthful, not even bothering to sit up.

The door creaked open but Dwight didn’t even turn round, he was midway through paperwork.

“Ah, Dr Enys.” The voice he heard made his eyes instantly roll back into his head, before he slowly turned his chair round with a shit eating grin.

“George Warleggan. How can I help?” There was just something about the hospital’s regional manager and local council member that made his skin crawl. But he’d never show it. Dwight was a professional.

“Bad news I’m afraid.” He said this with an almost glee and Dwight reminded himself why he would vote for the many, not the few next election. “It’s that time of year.”

“What time?”

“Cuts time.” George winced but in such a way that it seemed mocking. “So I’m just coming around to tell you all that you’re under observation.”

Dwight smiled politely. “That’s good of you George. Not sure we need cuts though, we have been struggling recently for staff.”

“But there’s just not enough money.” George shrugged casually. “My hands are tied.”

Dwight’s passive aggressive brain was on full power. Really? That’s funny considering I know for the fact your wages bought you a manor house and a holiday home in Barbados whilst the staff at this hospital are striking every two weeks because our wages can’t even afford to get people out of food banks.

But ok.

“Oh right.” Was what came out. “Thanks for letting me know. I’ll be on my best behaviour.” He smiled through gritted teeth and waved George out of the office, who was almost strutting as he left.

“What an arsehole.” He said to himself as he turned back around, professional as ever.

He looked at the time. It was coming up to half past twelve and he thought to take his lunch break officially, maybe snooping around the hospital for Caroline Penvenen.

Not that he would ever admit that but i freely will.

It was about a ten minute walk to the physiotherapy wing but Dwight made it last fifteen by kicking a vending machine until a seven up came out. He had taken his white coat off otherwise people would think he was on duty and make him do work, but he loosened his tie a little.

It was lunch time after all.

He  shoved the door to the wing open after crossing a road outside. He’d just go for a walk, a walk around the building, have a little snoop around and then go back to his office. Yeah.

He looked through the first window but it was a full on hospital room with a body inside sleeping. The body was also a 70 year old man.

He walked along the corridor and it was just more of the same. He felt very lost in this particular area of the hospital, slightly befuddled.

He threw his seven up in a perfect shot towards the bin.

Or so he would have you think.

I can tell you for sure it bounced off the rim and onto the floor and he had to humbly pick it up, rubbing the back of his neck slightly.

He continued to trudge up to the upper floor, telling himself if he saw nothing of interest here, he would just give up and go eat his sandwich alone with some milky tea.

Just then he came across a small window in a door and he manically found a way to stand by it without the people inside seeing.

Because inside was, in his opinion, the best physiotherapist and Ross’s ex girlfriend Elizabeth Chynoweth and her patient- Caroline Penvenen.

“Sorry I’m late!” Caroline was sat in the wheelchair with a kind of comfort that Dwight hadn’t encountered in their park adventure the other day which begged the question, did he make her feel uncomfortable. “Sarah needed her nappy changing. When it’s just me and her you can assume I will be a lot later!”

“It’s alright for today Caroline.” Elizabeth smiled warmly. You need a lot of patience to be a physio, you know. “But you need to be signed off from physio before you get Sarah full time.”

He saw Caroline’s smile falter, even from a distance as if this was new information. “Well that just makes me more determined.” She replied and Dwight couldn’t help but appreciate her strength. “Plus there’s a guy I really like and I want to be able to get my strut  on when I ask him out.”

Dwight’s heart dropped. Not two days ago had she told him that they should just be friends but now she had already moved on to another? Dwight knew he shouldn’t have come, he knew this was an invasion of privacy but he couldn’t stay away.

Elizabeth stood away from her computer and held up her hand to help Caroline up. “Ok Caroline.” She laughed. “Are you ready to go for the bars?”

“Of course.” Caroline smiled.

But Dwight was in no way ready for what was to come.

She gripped the bars with a firm unsteadiness and it looked to be an absolute effort. Her brain was working a mile a minute but she just couldn’t get her legs to do the same.

“Caroline.” Elizabeth was at the other end of the bars, leaning down to look at her. “Slow down.”

But Caroline persisted. “No. I have to get better, you don’t understand.”

“You’re not going to get better straight away!” Elizabeth persisted, approaching the bars to try and get her to slow down. “Walk slower, it’s a process.”

But Caroline was in the zone. What Dwight liked to call a negative zone. A zone where you put your physical health at risk for personal gain.

And that, readers, is when she fell.

She collapsed onto the floor, her legs crumbling and Dwight could only imagine the pain from her burns on top of this.

She howled. She howled so loud as Elizabeth came to her side and hoisted her back into the wheelchair, trying to sedate her with calming words.

“Hey.” Elizabeth smiled. “Not to worry, you’ve just got yourself into a tizz. It happens to all of us.”

Dwight stepped away from the door, ashamed to have walked in on a private moment. He shook his head and continued down the corridor, acknowledging other doctors walking the other way. He found a hot drinks machine and made the milkiest tea he’d ever seen but spent a good twenty minutes sat back down on the lower floor just staring at it. His lunch was nearly over and he may as well just trudge back to his office with a new fear instilled in his heart. He may as well-

“Doctor Dwight Enys?” Wow. Maybe this was the worst day of his life as he looked into the questioning eyes of Elizabeth.

“Dr Chynoweth.” He stumbled a little on his words. “It's been a while. I haven't seen you since-”

“Since Ross and I broke up?” Dwight’s face paled but she just laughed. “Come, have lunch with me. You look very depressing.”

Dwight mutely followed her into her office upstairs but his mind was elsewhere. He had so many unresolved questions as he popped his lunchbox (yes he owned a lunchbox) onto the table.

He sat opposite Elizabeth in her patient’s chair and stared at some of the equipment, fallen onto the floor. “Tough patient?” He asked.

“Ah, a doctor’s work is confidential.” But she was smiling. “But yes. Unintentionally difficult.”

Dwight knew that he shouldn't probe, especially when he knew it was Caroline and he knew that she wouldn't want this but, “How so?”

Curiosity got the better of him.

“It's really not her fault.” Elizabeth sighed.“She’s just in a completely different reality to everyone else.” “I don’t think I follow.” Dwight sipped his drink. “Who are you talking about?”

He really hated himself now. This was completely against everything they taught him at doctor school. Medical school. The medical book of ethics.

“Caroline Penvenen.” Elizabeth stated, matter-of-factly. “I’m only telling you because you’re not one of her listed doctors, so you probably don’t know her.”

Haha.

“I know of her.” Dwight smiled wryly. “I heard she’s something pretty special.”

“Don’t get me wrong, she’s lovely.” Elizabeth held her hand out to emphasise her point. “But I’m a pretty experienced therapist, as you well know. And it’s quite often in therapy that people just expect things to get better straight away.” She sighed. “But it’s called therapy for a reason you know? She’s talking about getting custody of her kid back really soon.” Elizabeth shook her head. “But she has some intensive physical and mental counselling to even get a hearing. My cousin is her social worker and says the child is already living in less than ideal circumstances with the godmother, but it’s the best they can do without putting the baby into care. Sad really.”

“Yeah.” Dwight’s mouth was dry. “So sad.”

This situation was more serious than he expected and he really hoped Caroline wasn’t putting herself at risk for this new guy she liked.

“Sorry. It seems I just emotionally unloaded on you.” Elizabeth laughed. 

“It’s fine, it’s just been a rough morning, cuts and all.” 

“Yeah I heard.” Elizabeth winced. “They’re naming physio as non essential so they can make cuts.”

Dwight decided it was best to go on an anti capitalist rant, but if you want to hear it, ask your humble narrator. It was long and boring but Elizabeth just nodded and nodded.

Until they were rudely interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Come in!” One could say Elizabeth was grateful for this interruption but her face drained of colour when she saw who it was.

It was George Warleggan no less, with his Porsche carkeys in hand. “Do you need a lift home today Elizabeth?” He acknowledged Dwight. “Dr Enys.”

“George.” Dwight lacked any understanding.

“I will be quite alright George.” Elizabeth smiled awkwardly. “I will see you at home.” 

Dwight’s eyes widened and George winked (I know) before shutting the door.

Dwight turned back to Elizabeth. “Elizabeth...”

 Elizabeth looked mildly angry and looked at her computer. “Says here, your lunch finished five minutes ago. I will see you Dwight. Goodbye.”

“I better be going then.” Dwight smiled awkwardly but knew whilst he was in the rehab area of the hospital, he had one more stop to make.

His walking was a little shuffly and weighed down with thoughts, thoughts of how he had been so selfish, he’d not even thought of how Caroline might be recovering. Also thoughts of Elizabeth and George Warleggan? Hopefully it wasn’t what it looked like.

He opened the door to the psychological rehabilitation building. He would just make sure Caroline had booked an appointment. That’s all. That’s all he’d do.

“Hi.” He addressed the receptionist. “I was just making sure my patient had booked an appointment here. I wasn’t sure that she would.” He showed her his ID and hoped to God she wouldn’t check he wasn’t one of Caroline’s listed doctors.

“Patient name?” She asked.

“Um.” Dwight stuttered. “Caroline Penvenen.”

She typed vigorously into the keyboard before smiling. “She’s booked in for next Tuesday.”

For some reason, this answer didn’t satisfy him. “Could I give some papers to her doctor?”

He felt like a twat because he literally had no paper, he was just going for a snoop. He was pretty sure the receptionist knew this. However, he noticed his medical bag hung over his shoulder which, for all she knew contained paper; Thank God.

“Sure, he’s free. Upstairs first door on the right.” He realised as he walked towards the elevator, he didn’t even know the doctor’s name. Regardless he stepped out onto the first floor and knocked on the door of this psychiatrist.

A Dr Sam Carne.

“Come in!” A highly accented voice called from inside and Dwight stepped in to see a man almost too young to be a doctor (remember you have to go to school for seven years).

“Hi.” Dwight waved awkwardly. Kill me.

Dr Sam Carne looked him straight in the eye and said. “How may I save your soul today?”

“Oh no.” Dwight’s eyes widened. “I’m a doctor.”

“I know I got the alert.” Dr Carne looked at his computer, running a hand through his hair. “But I feel your soul must still need saving.” He furrowed his eyebrows. “See, ye is not on Miss Penvenen’s list of doctors… Which begs the question.” He looked intensely at Dwight. “What is ye doing here?”

Dwight was taken aback. This was by far the most perceptive member of staff he’d encountered so far. “Do you know what? I’m just gonna g-”

“Wait.” Dr Carne’s went wide. “I knows ye. You’re a friend a my sister’s. Demelza Carne.”

So Demelza had never spoken of any brothers ever. For all Dwight knew she could have seven. “Yeah I guess.” He realised now that both Demelza and Sam had different levels of the same accent and shared many features in common.

“Everything is lining up for me.” He shook his head. “She was ‘avin a right go about ye other day on the sibling group chat. She say ye’s obsessed with a girl- it must be Caroline Penvenen.”

Dwight just stood there like a deer in headlights, not even trying to defend himself.

“Well I have some advice for ye- don’t do it. Once upon a long time ago, I did feel like ye- fell in love with a patient I did and I nearly got fired. ‘Twas horrible and she left me because she doesn’t love Jesus like I do.”

“I don’t blame her.” Dwight said under his breath as he stared at the crucifixes on every wall. “Thanks for the advice, I guess.”

“Now scram outta here before I tell Demelza ye came.” He got up from his desk and ushered Dwight out. “Just don’t do it, alright?”

Dwight just smiled weakly. He seemed to do that a lot recently. But just as he thought his day couldn’t get any worse, he turned around to George Warleggan already waiting.

“Don’t do what?”

[skelliet-0-n]

The Terrible Politics of PS4′s Spider-Man

This Spider-Man guy likes beating up criminals a little too much.

The DLC for the PS4 Spider-Man recently went on sale, so my housemate bought it, and I’ve started playing it again. Full disclosure, I love the gameplay. It seems a direct spiritual successor to the PS2's Spider-Man 2 game, and it's endlessly freeing to effortlessly swing from skyscraper to skyscraper.

But in the process of obsessively completing missions to unlock the underpants outfit, I’ve become reacquainted with how confused and abhorrent the politics of Spider-Man are. It’s largely in relation to the police, the NYPD, which has always had a fraught relationship with Spider-Man throughout his existence - comics, films, and games.

But this time, it feels utterly unlike any previous incarnation - while this relationship remains fraught, it’s only in terms of how the police view Spider-Man (only in the sense that he’s doing their job for them). Spider-Man, on the other hand, is unwavering in his adoration of the NYPD, the ‘brave boys in blue’. This is deeply troubling, for obvious reasons - Spider-Man is the point-of-view character, and in a world increasingly disgusted at the wanton violence, racism, and lack of accountability displayed by not just the US police force, but indeed police forces worldwide, it’s utterly tone-deaf.

The police in Spider-Man are best represented by Jefferson Davis, an average police officer and father of future Spider-Man Miles Morales. Davis is a good cop - noble, self-sacrificing, and community-minded. This is how Spider-Man perceives the force at large, rarely forgetting to thank those brave boys in blue for their service. Spider-Man’s internal dialogue often references the supposed friction between him and the police, but you’d never know from the actual cops in the game, and he nevertheless goes out of his way to support them.

You could argue that this is an aspirational representation - what the writers want the police to be. But there are a few problems with this. First, the police aren’t really all that great - it’s just that the immoral things they do in the real world are ignored, whitewashed. Some of them are generally antsy around Spider-Man himself, but equally, many are adoring (and of course, Spider-Man himself is similarly adoring of the police force).

The other problem with it foregoing a real-world representation for an idealised representation is the fact that Spider-Man already engages with other real-world representations. Jonah J. Jameson has forgone his role as newspaper editor to play talkback radio host, his wild accusations and angry ranting a clear analogue to Alex Jones. Norman Osborn, meanwhile, has become mayor in this story, rather like another high-profile businessman turned populist politician. So, to ignore the reality of the police force is irresponsible, given that the game already critiques existing institutions (admittedly, institutions that are safe to critique by the standards of liberal defenders of the status quo). 

There’s even condemnation levelled at the fascist paramilitary organisation Sable, which continues to overstep its boundaries, depriving people of their civil rights. Spider-Man takes the time to (with utter lack of self-awareness) shake his head at this, declare that it's not how things are done in New York - before going right back to gushing over the NYPD. In 2018, the NYPD held a transgender Latina woman overnight, charging her with ‘false personation’, misgendering her, and mocking her. If that doesn’t sound like an autocratic organisation depriving people of their rights, acting above the law, and being an antagonistic force towards parts of the community, then God knows what is.

This is equally an issue with Brooklyn 99, arguably the world’s most influential fictional representation of the police force. Again, it shamelessly portrays the police as fundamentally good, despite the inclusion of the rare bad cop. Instead, the show depicts the NYPD as being diverse in terms of race and sexuality, though if the above example proves anything, it’s that this is far from the truth. It’s not just ineffectual wishing for a better tomorrow, it’s actively creating a false narrative, one that is irresponsible in its refusal to acknowledge the harm that police forces do.

On the one hand, you could say that Spider-Man is no more problematic than crime fiction, in its black-and-white moral of order versus chaos. Superheroes and crime fiction are inextricably intertwined, are they not? But Spider-Man goes further - it brazenly dehumanises criminals (by ‘criminals’ I mean the everyday criminals, not the supervillains, who get complex backstories), reducing them not to victims of circumstance and poverty, but simply to animals that long for destruction and self-gain. Of course, Spider-Man could never give every two-bit goon a backstory, but it goes too far the other direction. Crime is some sort of malevolent force, completely other from ‘normal’ humans. Criminals are some sort of vicious, orc-like beings (and lest we forget, even Tolkien had trouble reconciling the moral implications of orcs, sentient beings who were apparently pure evil and less-than-human).

To return to Brooklyn 99, the first episode demonstrates the two lead characters (both model cops) in a race to see who can arrest the most people. Sure, it’s treated as comedy, but it’s still tone-deaf against the context of real-world abuses of police power, and presents criminals as abstracted, shapeless masses that police have to dispose of to keep us all safe. There’s not even the slightest acknowledgement of the complex socio-economic circumstances that lead many to actions that are considered crime.

45% seems way too high to me.

This article explains, better than I ever could, the dehumanisation of criminals in Spider-Man. In particular, there’s a contrast between the in-game Riker’s Island, a hive of scum and villainy, and its real-world counterpart, a prison full of disadvantaged groups, trapped by a system constructed to keep them down.

Even Spider-Man’s dialogue demonstrates this. In every crime-busting side mission, Spider-Man seems to view criminals as misbehaving children. Spider-Man’s gleeful efforts to return them to prison are jarring and distasteful, compared to real life, where revolving door prison systems keep minorities and low-income people beaten down, thanks to the serious handicap of being labelled a criminal.

Spider-Man’s tone-deaf dialogue shines through again in describing the cops. Coming across a shootout between police and escaped convicts (again presented as thoughtless marauders), he compares the scene to a Wild West setting, of brave lawmen engaged in a firefight in some urban canyon. And then there’s Spider-Man’s juvenile, faux-serious self-narration as 'Spider-Cop’. It’s ironic that Spider-Cop evokes a child’s efforts to play a cop; such a child would have, no doubt, a largely positive view of the police, thanks to media representation such as Spider-Man’s pro-police narrative.

Maybe the game exclusively presents police as noble heroes because the writers tacitly approve of their real-world heavy-handed treatment of minorities. After all, Spider-Man himself declares drug-dealing to be his 'least favourite criminal activity', and while he corrects himself to say it’s one of his least favourites,��it’s very telling that he has such a strong reaction to a crime that, in the US, has largely been used to victimise minorities and opposition to the elite. During the Nixon administration, for example, the criminalisation of heroin and marijuana was used as an excuse to harass the black and anti-Vietnam communities respectively, neither of which were friends to Nixon.

As a side note, the clear association between Alex Jones and Jonah J. Jameson is evidence of Spider-Man’s uncertain message, much like the imbalance between the critique of Sable and the lionisation of the NYPD. While he starts out as a bitter, conspiracy-theorising radio host with a clear vendetta, he starts to make intelligent, sane points. For example, he starts to question the conflicting interests of Osborn, a capitalist who has been elected mayor of New York (again, an obvious allusion to Trump). He also urges citizens to fight for their rights in the face of Sable’s abuse of power - is he supposed to be a satirical lunatic, or one of the few sane voices? In a world as black-and-white as Spider-Man’s, a character like Jameson just seems confused.

To return to the point, perhaps this begs the question, what’s the right way to depict the police? Maybe, if you’re not going to take any kind of stand on the injustice they commit, you shouldn’t depict them at all in a piece of fiction, especially if it’s something fun and light-hearted like Spider-Man or Brooklyn 99. Admittedly, in the case of the latter, that would necessitate it not existing, but then, you wouldn’t write a buddy comedy about two US troops in the Iraq War, would you?

DISCLAIMER: You could say that it’s just a game, and that politics should be kept out of this. But those who say they’re apolitical really just mean they’re content with the status quo - everything is political. Especially if it depicts an organisation like the police.

[tessatechaitea]

Star Trek: The Next Generation, S1, E4: "The Last Outpost"

"She begrudged her lover nothing and now, finally, it was time to offer him The Last Outpost." For some reason that would be inexplicable if you were living in the actual world of Star Trek: The Next Generation but is entirely understandable when you view it through the lens of a story written by humans about humans, every single Godlike creature in the universe seems to put humans to the test to find out if they're heedless barbarians who care for nothing but their own enrichment. It's one of the reasons I'd rather view Q as tormenting the Enterprise not because he's testing humans but because he loves Jean-Luc (there's additional proof of this in the episode "Hide and Q" when we see Q seems to be acting against the general Q Continuum consensus). I'd rather he be a romantic interest and not just another smart ass alien testing the humans to make sure they're allowed in space. But maybe humans bring it on themselves. It is possible that humans are the most arrogant race (species?) in the entire universe. One species (race?) has to be; why not humans? And every other alien race that has come into contact with other races always discuss how terribly arrogant and ambitious those humans are, with their weird emotions and concept of "love". And since humans write these stories, seemingly with the assumption that humans are somehow unique and special, the "humans must prove themselves" becomes an easy trope to slip into any plot. But before the test begins, this episode starts by introducing audiences to the Ferengi, the boot sale merchants of the universe. They're played as if the sellers at your local dirt mall inexplicably developed the technologies for space travel and teleportation and instantly launched into space to find deals and cheat people. Data explains that their entire cultural belief system is built on the motto, "Caveat Emptor." As a space faring race which interacts with other races, I can see the appeal of introducing this kind of alien characterization. Little House on the Prarie and Grizzly Adams and even Anne with an E relied on the plot of the traveling salesman character. But imagine the Ferengi homeworld before they ever left the atmosphere! Nobody trusting anybody else while everybody trying to profit over everybody else! What a terrible bunch of Boomer pricks! I wonder if there's a whole offshoot of Ferengi flower children and democratic socialists who fucking despise the way the rest of the universe views them? I suppose if there is, I'll see evidence of it in Deep Space Nine when I get around to it. I bet Quark has some family members who are all, "Ugh! Dad is such a capitalist asshat!" Seeing the Ferengi in this episode made me want to dress up as a Ferengi every Halloween for the rest of my life. Not because I love the way they look but I fucking fell in love with how they hopped around like children who just sucked down two pounds of pure cane sugar. I suppose they were supposed to look like monkeys in the zoo, incapable of standing still. But I fucking loved their fidgeting and bouncing around. Why did they drop that aspect of the character?! It's fucking endearing! I wonder what would happen to the Ferengi race if somebody sold them a cargo hold full of fidget spinners? This is yet another episode that culminates in a terrible anti-climax. The Enterprise and the Ferengi ship are locked in a force field around a planet of a long dead space empire. The crew of the Enterprise agree to work with the Ferengi to search the planet while the Ferengi cross their fingers behind their backs and plan on acting as despicable as possible. On the planet (after some minor skirmishes between the two crews), a man named Portal puts them to the test to find out if they're worthy of existing in the universe. Why does he get to decide? I don't know! I guess because he's so fucking powerful. The anti-climax comes because Portal doesn't put them through any trials or rigorous intellectual tests. He just accidentally quotes Sun Tzu and Riker is all, "I know the response to that quote! Boom! I'm interesting, right?!" And Portal is all, "You amuse me. You shall live." Aside: the man who plays Portal also played Mimo on Villa Alegre. While the Ferengi insist that the humans are liars and jerks while taking no responsibility for their own actions, Riker quotes some Sun Tzu because every nerd in the world knows that philosophical thought about strategy and diplomacy has never outdone The Art of War. Portal is suitably impressed like any space nerd would be. He not only decides to spare the humans but becomes best friends with Riker. Only a human mind could be so unique and interesting to a creature of such knowledge and power! We're so awesome! Everybody in space should embrace our quirky ways! Even though the Ferengi behave abominably, Portal lets them live because Riker points out that they'll never learn any other way. Also, I think he just thinks of them as gnats. People might be annoyed by gnats but you don't turn the full force of your intellect and emotional fury on the entirety of their species just because they're bothering you. You swat at a few of them, curse a bit, and then fucking forget all about them. I think every episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation has a moral but sometimes I can't be bothered to understand it. Especially when I'm several episodes ahead of the one I'm currently writing about. They all kind of get jumbled together. This one probably has something to do with keeping an open mind and not judging too swiftly. I only say that because I think that was the moral of the Farpoint episode and maybe the moral of all the episodes I've written about so far. And what better way to get that moral across than by making the Ferengi as obviously underhanded and treacherous as possible? Maybe they shouldn't have made them so childlike and lovable as well though. Perhaps that's why they stopped making them all bouncy and fidgety. Because it was too adorable. I would have kept that aspect of them but also made them constantly hold open switchblades. Aside: Armin Shimerman who also plays Buffy's high school principle portrays the Ferengi Letek. Oh, he's also Quark in Deep Space Nine. And he's the face of the wedding gift box in Haven. Also he's the voice of Andrew Ryan from the Bioshock games (get it? "Andrew Ryan"? Ayn Rand? It's such a good game about objectivism!). It's possible part of my problem with this show (at least so far) is the pacing of the plot in regards to the theme. I suppose, taken as a whole and being charitable, what happens in many ST:TNG episodes is that the initial introductory story usually isn't the real story and often either gets ignored or is resolved in a boring or anti-climactic way (because it wasn't the meat of the theme and didn't really matter. Like the virus in "The Naked Now"). In this one, the introductory story is that the Ferengi have stolen something from the Federation. The Enterprise is tasked with getting it back. Which they do at some point but that story doesn't matter by the time they're trapped in the forcefield. It's like that thing that famous guy said which I think I mentioned in a previous review (unless it was in a comic book review) about how life happens when you're planning on some other kind of life. Star Trek: The Next Generation made a career out of it. Some people refer to these things as the "A" and "B" plot. But I don't think ST:TNG gives enough time to the initial plot to even consider it a parallel story line to the main plot. Maybe the writers get better at this as the show progresses. But even if they don't, it's not that big a deal. I get it! You need to have the crew doing something when the major shit hits the fan. And that shit doesn't have to come out of the first thing they were doing at all, although it would be nice if, just sometimes, it did. Like maybe Wesley Crusher is studying for exams and he has the replicator make him a copy of the Necronomicon after which he unleashes Hell aboard the Enterprise. Then at the end, he fails his test because, you know, it was about engineering and not raising the dead.