#hyperspiritualizing

[lacavernamx]

"Hyperspiritual" de YUS: Explorando la Música como Sendero Espiritual - https://wp.me/p4pCgM-4SP

"Hyperspiritual", el cuarto álbum de larga duración del artista estadounidense YUS, que radica en Los Ángeles, marca un hito en su discografía con siete composiciones que funden sintetizadores potentes, vocales auto-tuneadas y ritmos contundentes en una odisea musical que roza lo espiritual.

[hopetribune]

YUS and Manneken Records Announce Anticipated Synthpop Album ‘Hyperspiritual’

http://dlvr.it/T6CLkq

[universalnewspoint]

YUS and Manneken Records Announce Anticipated Synthpop Album ‘Hyperspiritual’

http://dlvr.it/T6CLkm

[thesunshinereporter]

YUS and Manneken Records Announce Anticipated Synthpop Album ‘Hyperspiritual’

http://dlvr.it/T6CLMt

[columbianewsupdates]

YUS and Manneken Records Announce Anticipated Synthpop Album ‘Hyperspiritual’

http://dlvr.it/T6CL4V

[citrina-posts]

Avatar: Cultural Appreciation or Appropriation?

I love Avatar: the Last Airbender. Obviously I do, because I run a fan blog on it. But make no mistake: it is a show built upon cultural appropriation. And you know what? For the longest time, as an Asian-American kid, I never saw it that way.

There are plenty of reasons why I never realized this as a kid, but I’ve narrowed it down to a few reasons. One is that I was desperate to watch a show with characters that looked like me in it that wasn’t anime (nothing wrong with anime, it’s just not my thing). Another is that I am East Asian (I have Taiwanese and Korean ancestry) and in general, despite being the outward “bad guys”, the East Asian cultural aspects of Avatar are respected far more than South Asian, Middle Eastern, and other influences. A third is that it’s easy to dismiss the negative parts of a show you really like, so I kind of ignored the issue for a while. I’m going to explain my own perspective on these reasons, and why I think we need to have a nuanced discussion about it. This is pretty long, so if you want to keep reading, it’s under the cut.

Obviously, the leadership behind ATLA was mostly white. We all know the co-creators Bryan Konietzko and Michael Dante DiMartino (colloquially known as Bryke) are white. So were most of the other episodic directors and writers, like Aaron Ehasz, Lauren Montgomery, and Joaquim Dos Santos. This does not mean they were unable to treat Asian cultures with respect, and I honestly do believe that they tried their best! But it does mean they have certain blinders, certain perceptions of what is interesting and enjoyable to watch. Avatar was applauded in its time for being based mostly on Asian and Native American cultures, but one has to wonder: how much of that choice was based on actual respect for these people, and how much was based on what they considered to be “interesting”, “quirky”, or “exotic”?

The aesthetic of the show, with its bending styles based on various martial arts forms, written language all in Chinese text, and characters all decked out in the latest Han dynasty fashions, is obviously directly derivative of Asian cultures. Fine. That’s great! They hired real martial artists to copy the bending styles accurately, had an actual Chinese calligrapher do all the lettering, and clearly did their research on what clothing, hair, and makeup looked like. The animation studios were in South Korea, so Korean animators were the ones who did the work. Overall, this is looking more like appreciation for a beautiful culture, and that’s exactly what we want in a rapidly diversifying world of media.

But there’s always going to be some cherry-picking, because it’s inevitable. What’s easy to animate, what appeals to modern American audiences, and what is practical for the world all come to mind as reasons. It’s just that… they kinda lump cultures together weirdly. Song from Book 2 (that girl whose ostrich-horse Zuko steals) wears a hanbok, a traditionally Korean outfit. It’s immediately recognizable as a hanbok, and these dresses are exclusive to Korea. Are we meant to assume that this little corner of the mostly Chinese Earth Kingdom is Korea? Because otherwise, it’s just treated as another little corner of the Earth Kingdom. Korea isn’t part of China. It’s its own country with its own culture, history, and language. Other aspects of Korean culture are ignored, possibly because there wasn’t time for it, but also probably because the creators thought the hanbok was cute and therefore they could just stick it in somewhere. But this is a pretty minor issue in the grand scheme of things (super minor, compared to some other things which I will discuss later on).

It’s not the lack of research that’s the issue. It’s not even the lack of consideration. But any Asian-American can tell you: it’s all too easy for the Asian kids to get lumped together, to become pan-Asian. To become the equivalent of the Earth Kingdom, a mass of Asians without specific borders or national identities. It’s just sort of uncomfortable for someone with that experience to watch a show that does that and then gets praised for being so sensitive about it. I don’t want you to think I’m from China or Vietnam or Japan; not because there’s anything wrong with them, but because I’m not! How would a French person like to be called British? It would really piss them off. Yet this happens all the time to Asian-Americans and we are expected to go along with it. And… we kind of do, because we’ve been taught to.

1. Growing Up Asian-American

I grew up in the early to mid-2000s, the era of High School Musical and Hannah Montana and iCarly, the era of Spongebob and The Amazing World of Gumball and Fairly Odd Parents. So I didn’t really see a ton of Asian characters onscreen in popular shows (not anime) that I could talk about with my white friends at school. One exception I recall was London from Suite Life, who was hardly a role model and was mostly played up for laughs more than actual nuance. Shows for adults weren’t exactly up to par back then either, with characters like the painfully stereotypical Raj from Big Bang Theory being one of the era that comes to mind.

So I was so grateful, so happy, to see characters that looked like me in Avatar when I first watched it. Look! I could dress up as Azula for Halloween and not Mulan for the third time! Nice! I didn’t question it. These were Asian characters who actually looked Asian and did cool stuff like shoot fireballs and throw knives and were allowed to have depth and character development. This was the first reason why I never questioned this cultural appropriation. I was simply happy to get any representation at all. This is not the same for others, though.

2. My Own Biases

Obviously, one can only truly speak for what they experience in their own life. I am East Asian and that is arguably the only culture that is treated with great depth in Avatar.

I don’t speak for South Asians, but I’ve certainly seen many people criticize Guru Pathik, the only character who is explicitly South Asian (and rightly so. He’s a stereotype played up for laughs and the whole thing with chakras is in my opinion one of the biggest plotholes in the show). They’ve also discussed how Avatar: The Last Airbender lifts heavily from Hinduism (with chakras, the word Avatar itself, and the Eye of Shiva used by Combustion Man to blow things up). Others have expressed how they feel the sandbenders, who are portrayed as immoral thieves who deviously kidnap Appa for money, are a direct insult to Middle Eastern and North African cultures. People have noted that it makes no sense that a culture based on Inuit and other Native groups like the Water Tribe would become industrialized as they did in the North & South comics, since these are people that historically (and in modern day!) opposed extreme industrialization. The Air Nomads, based on the Tibetan people, are weirdly homogeneous in their Buddhist-inspired orange robes and hyperspiritual lifestyle. So too have Southeast Asians commented on the Foggy Swamp characters, whose lifestyles are made fun of as being dirty and somehow inferior. The list goes on.

These things, unlike the elaborate and highly researched elements of East Asian culture, were not treated with respect and are therefore cultural appropriation. As a kid, I had the privilege of not noticing these things. Now I do.

White privilege is real, but every person has privileges of some kind, and in this case, I was in the wrong for not realizing that. Yes, I was a kid; but it took a long time for me to see that not everyone’s culture was respected the way mine was. They weren’t considered *aesthetic* enough, and therefore weren’t worth researching and accurately portraying to the creators. It’s easy for a lot of East Asians to argue, “No! I’ve experienced racism! I’m not privileged!” News flash: I’ve experienced racism too. But I’ve also experienced privilege. If white people can take their privilege for granted, so too can other races. Shocking, I know. And I know now how my privilege blinded me to the fact that not everybody felt the same euphoria I did seeing characters that looked like them onscreen. Not if they were a narrow and offensive portrayal of their race. There are enough good-guy Asian characters that Fire Lord Ozai is allowed to be evil; but can you imagine if he was the only one?

3. What It Does Right

This is sounding really down on Avatar, which I don’t want to do. It’s a great show with a lot of fantastic themes that don’t show up a lot in kids’ media. It isn’t superficial or sugarcoating in its portrayal of the impacts of war, imperialism, colonialism, disability, and sexism, just to name a few. There are characters like Katara, a brown girl allowed to get angry but is not defined by it. There are characters like Aang, who is the complete opposite of toxic masculinity. There are characters like Toph, who is widely known as a great example of how to write a disabled character.

But all of these good things sort of masked the issues with the show. It’s easy to sweep an issue under the rug when there’s so many great things to stack on top and keep it down. Alternatively, one little problem in a show seems to make-or-break media for some people. Cancel culture is the most obvious example of this gone too far. Celebrity says one ignorant thing? Boom, cancelled. But… kind of not really, and also, they’re now terrified of saying anything at all because their apologies are mocked and their future decisions are scrutinized. It encourages a closed system of creators writing only what they know for fear of straying too far out of their lane. Avatar does do a lot of great things, and I think it would be silly and immature to say that its cultural appropriation invalidates all of these things. At the same time, this issue is an issue that should be addressed. Criticizing one part of the show doesn’t mean that the other parts of it aren’t good, or that you shouldn’t be a fan.

If Avatar’s cultural appropriation does make you uncomfortable enough to stop watching, go for it. Stop watching. No single show appeals to every single person. At the same time, if you’re a massive fan, take a sec (honestly, if you’ve made it this far, you’ve taken many secs) to check your own privilege, and think about how the blurred line between cultural appreciation (of East Asia) and appropriation (basically everybody else) formed. Is it because we as viewers were also captivated by the aesthetic and overall story, and so forgive the more problematic aspects? Is it because we’ve been conditioned so fully into never expecting rep that when we get it, we cling to it?

I’m no media critic or expert on race, cultural appropriation, or anything of the sort. I’m just an Asian-American teenager who hopes that her own opinion can be put out there into the world, and maybe resonate with someone else. I hope that it’s given you new insight into why Avatar: The Last Airbender is a show with both cultural appropriation and appreciation, and why these things coexist. Thank you for reading!

[entrapdaknation]

Racism, Misogyny, and Pathologic 2

Note: this commentary contains spoilers for Pathologic 2.

Trigger warning for violent content.

Weeks ago, someone in my Tumblr feed had been praising a video game called Pathologic 2, about a doctor in early 20th century Russia trying to stop a plague in a Russian steppe town. The game sounded intriguing, and the commentary I found online was positive, so I bought the game ... and got a nasty surprise.

Pathologic 2 depicts indigenous steppe people, especially indigenous women, in deeply offensive ways. At first, the indigenous steppe people (the Kin) are depicted as hyperspiritualized and superstitious. Their culture is frozen and stagnant, rather than a vibrant, evolving culture. Several of the kin, such as Aspity and the Worms, are quite literally inhuman. The “magical Native American” stereotype comes to mind when the ways of the Kin are introduced in the game. They come across as mystical, alien, and at times inhuman, but rarely as three-dimensional people.

As I delved deeper into the story, depictions of the Kin became even more offensive. We meet Worms who mindlessly obey their elder’s commands to murder a doctor. We meet Worms who murdered someone (it’s unclear if their victim was innocent or evil) so as to provide the main character with human organs for medical use. We meet a Kin man, Oyun, who likens the Kin to cattle who need a strong leader to dominate them. These NPCs make the Kin seem mindlessly obedient and savage.

The Abbatoir scene depicts Kin religious mysteries as blood-soaked and murderous, all in the service of an eldritch abomination Earth deity who wants to keep humans in a mindless, animalistic state. The Sand Plague ravaging the town was created by this Earth deity, and the disease strikes down Russian and Kin townsfolk alike who do not live in harmony with the Earth. Years before, the plague was deliberately introduced into the town by a Kin man, Isidor (the main character’s father), as a deranged means of bringing about the town’s rebirth. The unspoken message seems to be, “See? The Kin are stupid. They worship an evil god who kills them and keeps them primitive.”

The most prominent Kin women in the game are the Herb Brides, depicted as young women scantily clad in shredded dresses. Herb Brides practice a spiritual tradition that involves ecstatic dancing out on the steppe so as to encourage the Earth to bring forth herbs. Their dancing is so wild that their dresses rip, revealing a lot of skin. The idea of Herb Brides was creative, but the execution was objectifying, as they seem to be an excuse to introduce cleavage and nudity into the game. Yep. The Herb Brides were definitely designed by and for cishet men, I thought.

Herb Brides play a major role in the Kin religious mysteries of the Abbatoir. The Herb Brides of the Abbatoir are indifferent to death, both their own and those of others. Their words and worldview are alien. They dance with the Sand Plague in disturbing eldritch rites.

Around the world, real-life indigenous women experience astronomical rates of violence, but Pathologic 2 trivializes and eroticizes violence against indigenous women. At the start of the game, panic-stricken townsfolk murder several Herb Brides, convinced that the women are monsters from folk lore. A cinematic scene depicts an Herb Bride burning at a stake, but the scene seems intended for titillation rather than horror or sympathy. Another murdered Herb Bride is found naked, likely for titillation purposes. Their deaths are inexplicably forgotten afterwards.

In the Abbatoir scene, a trio of Herb Brides instruct the main character to dissect another Herb Bride alive. The dissection victim goes along with the dissection willingly, indifferent to her own life and death. (The fact that the player must perform this dissection to secure ingredients for a plague cure and escape the Abbatoir makes the scene even worse, as it robs the player of the moral self-determination they previously had in the game.) Throughout the game, the Herb Brides are depicted as alien, titillating, dehumanized, and expendable, but never truly human.

In the hands of better game designers, the Kin of Pathologic 2 could have been used to offer commentary on the plight of indigenous people and violence against indigenous women. Instead, the game depicts indigenous people as inhuman, subhuman, objectified, alien, and barbaric.

The game developers didn’t have to do this. The Kin could have been depicted as complex, fully human characters. The game could have either dispensed with violence against Kin women, or depicted such violence in ways that evoked sympathy and empathy for the victims. Kin religion could have been depicted as a realistic tradition, rather than a Lovecraftian death cult. Alternatively, the eldritch death cult could have been retained in the game as a cult introduced to the town by non-indigenous parties, allowing the game to keep one of its horror elements without any of the racism.

The sad part is that if not for the racism and misogyny, Pathologic 2 would have been one of my favorite games of all time. The premise is creative, the music is beautiful, the story is engaging, and the game-play is edge-of-your-seat and fun. Unfortunately, the racist and misogynist elements spoiled the game for me, and after one play-through, I won’t be playing the game again.

Ice-Pick Lodge, what were you thinking?

[pigeonfancier]

Not much in terms of life updates - medical stuff is absurd, doctors are tiring, there is something very droll about paying a fuck ton of money and getting ridiculous tests done to hear "well, yes, you're underweight and sympomatic, but is that really negative?"

Also, the doctor negged my office on our video call, which - okay. Perhaps we need a little less medical school for our practictioners, and a little more finishing school? Shadowing is very useful, I am told, but what could be even more useful is the joy of learning not to be a complete nit. Sorry my house is not a 300k house, brah, the working class makes do.

Roughly adjacent thing I've been puzzling over the last few months: there is someone in my ever-distant orbit that is faking dyslexia, and I'm so fucking thrown by it. Is there now clout associated with people assuming you are literally illiterate..? Because as someone that's very dyslexic, the most common response I get to that disclosure is a startled "but you can read!"

It's just very surreal, because basically everything they say about the disorder is just.. them denying having any actual symptoms of the disorder, while selling incredible levels of inexplicable bullshit that is not symptoms of the disorder, and all tends to be along the lines of the 90's obsession with Super Empathetic Hyperspiritual Indigo Children. I've had a few people drag it to me to ask, which is primarily the cause of my "wtf", but I'm just mystified on why the fuck anyone would choose to use dyslexia as their chance to make themselves sparkly and unique.

It just makes people think you're kind of dumb! That seems like the opposite of what this fucker would want, but sure, alriiiight.

[carriemaya]

Stuff as Sacred: The Spirituality of Things

Hyperspirituality alienates us from our physical environment. Space for our belongings cultivate belonging.

Last week, I wrote a piece about moving into my forever home.

Until my mum and sister officially find a place, though, my boxes remain unpacked; stacked in the far corner of what’s technically my room but definitely doesn’t feel like mine.

And I think this is because I don’t have the freedom to take up space yet

Yes, little bits here and there: I can clear out the shaving cupboard and put my toiletries in there. And I can connect my laptop to my mum’s WiFi (which is great because I work on the Internet).

But I’m struggling.

I’ve been living out of bags and boxes for nearly three months now. And not being able to unpack properly (or at all in some cases) causes my mood to drop. Not having a desk to work at makes me feel anxious. And not being able to let my cat Ferdinand out of the one room he’s living in because my mum’s dogs have free range of the house makes me sad.

I love her dogs. They’re beautiful souls. But I struggle with dogs, personally, in terms of cleanliness. Definitely more of a cat person. So sharing space with a giant one who’s tail is as strong as my right arm, and another who sheds every three seconds, just makes me feel dirty, claustrophobic, and a little bit powerless.

It’s not one’s fault. It just is what it is for now. But this waiting period has me thinking about the way that having space to survey, define parameters for, and then curate and personalise is a form of freedom.

Here are a few musings on the topic.

SPACE. As in the cosmos. As in outer space. As in not on earth. As in not here. As in out there.  As in atmospherically incompatible. As in can't breathe.  As in floating. As in ungrounded, and vast, and ever-expanding.  As in unfathomable. Unknown. A dark forever ocean of unknown. As in it makes us feel small in comparison. Because we are small in comparison. Space as in no thing. Earth as thing. Earth as in map. As in scribbled with arbitrary borders. As in I wonder if aliens looked down at us, they’d mistake the checkpoints we've erected at state lines as our altars to separation. Earth as in location. As in a place that exists at a specific point in space.

If I don’t have space, I don’t have freedom. And if I don’t have space, I can’t locate a point within it to create place. And without place, I cannot make a home.

EARTH. As in place. As in tether. As in force of gravity. As in a touchstone between somewhere and nowhere.   As in the statue of David not the slab of marble from which he was sculpted.  As in this (not that) and here (not there). Earth as in terrain. As in planes, meadows, mountains, oceans, and deserts. As in soil. As in oil. As in metal, crystals, nutrients. As in sowing seeds and yielding produce. As in dependant on it for survival. As in solid. And surface. Earth as in habitat. As in trees, rivers, rocks, sky, wind, mammals, reptiles, and insects. As in ecosystem. As in bodies and breath. As in human creation. As in building shelter. As in hunting and gathering. As in making fire. As in eating. sleeping, reproduction, ritual,  information, education, commerce, government. As in culture. Culture as in hub. As in cauldron. As in us. As in art that rings true. As in language. As in feeling understood by you. As in feeling heard by you. As in feeling so heard by you that here is where I want to be.  

As in resonance.    

If I don’t have space, I don’t have freedom. And if I don’t have space, I can’t locate a point within it to create place. And without place, I cannot make a home.

If this is true, then it must also be true that having infinite space can’t be freedom. Because if I have space without any definition whatsoever, then what I am isn’t free but lost. And the opposite of being lost is being where I belong.

BELONGING. As in connection. As in emotional ties. As in memories; sharing them and making them. As in trust. As in knowing I'm not going to be hit or punched. Or yelled at. As in communication. Belonging as in voice. As in what I have to say matters as much as what you have to say. As in apologising when we hurt each other. As in saying I love you. As in saying well done. Belonging as in generational. As in wisdom passed down from grandparents to parents to grandchildren. As in shared history. As in doing whatever it takes to keep the tribe safe.

Making place within space should be a negotiation, a dance. Never an act of Imperialism.  

HOME. As in a point and place that exists within the vast space of earth as terrain. As in house. As in a pocket of thing in the fabric of no thing. As in eating the root not just the leaf. As in compatible atmosphere. As in I can finally breathe. As in habitat. As in ecosystem. As in the culture that exists beneath my roof.  Home as in mine. As in not yours. As in occuppied not vacant. As in territory. As in protection from the elements. And landlords.  As in tether and force of gravity. As in doors. That lock. As in ownership. As in home. As in home. As in home. As in home. As in home.

Space becomes place when it’s occupied. House becomes home when it’s occupied. Terrain becomes territory when it’s occupied.

* * *

I can’t decide if I made the right choice by listing belonging before home. Should I have put it the other way around? I don’t know. These two concepts confuse me and scare me.

Maybe because I’ve never had a good grasp on matter.

Space is what I know. It’s the familiar daydream of floating in the ether.

The Christianity I was raised in taught me that the body, possessions, money, and even the planet weren’t as important as “living in the spirit”. It instilled in me a doomsday fear of putting stock in anything that I can’t take with me when I die.

If I stay hovering above the ground in the heavenly realms, I can let God move me wherever He wants to. Because I have surrendered my agency to Him. I stay alienated to my physical environment out of obedience to my Divine call.

In a nutshell: I feel like the physical realm is an upside down world. I cognitively understand its importance, but on an emotional level I struggle to care about it (hello terrible relationships with food, money, and housing).

Belonging and home? They’re the worldy, human, ungodly realms of density.

Sending my spirit earthbound is to bind myself to sin, retribution, and hell.

This is the deep programming that’s starting to rear its ugly head as I begin to get used to the idea of occupying a house in forever-home fashion.

I want to TRULY believe in the sacredness of life on earth. And maybe learning to make a house my home can help me to do this.

I’m in the process of surveying the walls, floors, and cupboards. And when they’re empty, I’ll make them my own through personalisation—an act born of freedom to choose; curating the feel and flow of my home with colour schemes and carefully-placed possessions.

The off-white Victorian-style clock that I plan to sit on the fireplace mantel.

The Boston Fern I plan to hang from the ceiling in the bathroom.

The makeshift alcove I plan to create from the unused window in the living area.

What if stuff is sacred?

What if the house is a voicebox and possessions are the voice?

What if the freedom to set up my belongings is what creates place for me to belong?

What if, because I matter, so do the things that matter to me?

1.  What are the stories you tell yourself about the importance of you body, possessions, and physical existence?

2.  Do you feel your life shows that you value both spirit AND matter?

3.  In what ways can you bring greater balance to your relationships with both spirit AND matter?

4.  If you're struggling to find this balance, where can you turn for help? If you don't know straight off the top of your head, is there someone who can point you in the right direction?

[idreamiteverynight]

*goes to grocery store*

*gets home*

*wants to die*

just hyperspiritual hypersensitive INFP things :)

[frontproofmedia]

Dolo Flicks: Prey - An Unexpected And Unique Entry With A Grounded Story

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By Hector Franco

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Published: August 28, 2022

The fifth-installment of the Predator sci-fi horror franchise arrived in early August 2022 on streaming platforms Hulu in the United States and Disney+ internationally. Factoring in the two Alien vs. Predator films of the 2000s, it is the seventh time the elite hunter alien has been featured on film.

Unlike numerous horror franchises, the Predator films have been somewhat fortunate not to overstay their welcome. They have never produced a dud as horrendous as some of the worse horror sequels such as 'Seed of Chucky' or 'Freddy's Dead.' When it was first announced that a new Predator film would be released, many were skeptical as the previous movie, 2018s; The Predator, was highly disappointing. Expectations were at their highest, with the film being directed by Shane Black. Beforehand, Black was on a streak of directing first-rate films such as Kiss Kiss Bang Bang, Iron Man 3, and The Nice Guys. Black also played Rich Hawkins in the original1987 Predator film.

Studio interference filled with re-shoots, an uneven tone, and some less than stellar CGI with a head-scratching ending led to 2018s The Predator being a huge letdown. Luckily, 2022s entry into the world of the Predator has provided much better results.

With low expectations and a grounded story, Dan Trachtenberg's Prey may be the best sequel in the Predator franchise and is one of the finest horror movies of 2022.

Trachtenberg, best known for directing 2016s 10 Cloverfield Lane, teamed with Patrick Aison to create a grounded story that brings the Predator back to its roots. Set in the 1700s, the film follows Naru (Amber Midthunder) of the Comanche nation as she attempts to prove to members of her community that she can be a warrior despite their misconceptions. While on the path to prove herself, she runs into a creature, unlike anything she or anyone she knows has faced.

Under the advisory of producer Jhane Myers, a Comanche and Blackfeet Nation member, Prey has an authenticity in how it portrays life as a Comanche in the 1700s. From the ceremonies shown to the way Naru throws a tomahawk, there is a level of realism. On Hulu, there is also a Comanche dubbed version of the film that is available.

"Oftentimes in period pieces we're boiled down to a hyperspiritualized figure or this violent savage caricature," Amber Midthunder stated in an interview with The New York Times. "It affects you when you hardly ever see anybody who looks like you or represents you. That does something to your psyche, where you wonder, like, 'Oh, are we just not good enough? Or is that really how people see us?'"

Trachtenberg and cinematographer Jeff Cutter do a fantastic job with the film's setting expanding on landscapes that add a visual flair. The movie, being shot primarily in Calgary, Alberta, Canada, gives the film a unique look enhancing the timeframe and providing the Predator a playground that plays to the character's strengths. Prey is arguably the best-looking film in the Predator franchise.

While the cultural aspects of the Comanche tribe are done exceptionally, the script itself sometimes feels out of place. The way members of the Comanche tribe speak English is similar to today and can be distracting, especially in scenes where male members are bullying Naru. The writing is reminiscent of a high school sitcom and can take the audience out of the experience. However, there are a few standouts, specifically Naru's brother Taabe (Dakota Beavers). Taabe is one of the few characters that interact with Naru as a person more so than as an antagonist. The standout star is arguably Naru's main companion Sarii. This American Dingo breed will be remembered as one of the most likable and helpful dog characters in a live-action film for quite some time.

Although the film's visuals are outstanding, the film does falter when it comes to its use of CGI. The two that stick out are a mountain lion and a bear that look as good as one could expect but don't fit in a movie with natural landscapes. The Predator itself is a different variation than those in past films known as a 'Feral' Predator. The CGI looks well enough but is another example of why practical effects will always be favored in the horror genre.

The Predator doesn't have the weaponry it does in previous films but is advanced enough to lay waste to most of its adversaries. One sequence in particular with a group of French voyagers shows the Predator's killing ability in all its glory. It is one of the best sequences of the entire franchise.

Most stories are about a character overcoming obstacles, whether external, internal, or both. Naru isn't a perfect character that can automatically defeat every adversary in front of her. Instead, Prey allows her to fail.

During an attempt to kill a mountain lion to prove herself in an initiation, she becomes distracted and falls, leading to her brother carrying her home, only to return with the body of the lion later on. These failures allow for Naru to be more than just a one-note character and highlight two of her most vital characteristics in having fortitude and being observant.

The film's final sequence feels rushed, with Naru setting a plan in motion to kill the Predator and pulling it off without any issues. But the film did make a point to show all of Naru's observations and use them in a satisfying finale. There is even a bit of smartly played fan service in the finish with a callback to 1990s Predator 2 with Naru having a pistol with the name Raphael Adolini engraved.

Prey sets forth a concept that can lead to a variety of sequels set in different time frames. 1982s Halloween III: Season of the Witch was an attempt to take the Halloween franchise into an anthology format. Unlike the Halloween sequel, Prey has been met with a largely positive reception. An anthology of sequels with the Predator set in different places throughout time can keep the franchise going for years to come as long as the films stay of high quality.

With a standout performance from Amber Midthunder, great visuals, and a simple story, Prey has brought the Predator series out of the doldrums and is one of the most memorable films of 2022 that can satisfy die-hard Predator fans and bring in new ones.

4/5****

(Featured Image: Image: Hulu/20th Century Studios/Davis Entertainment/Lawrence Gordon Productions)

[j216]

whitiest hyperspiritualizing by Jared Haer Tempests Unresistedness Study #generative #photooftheday #iphonesia #creativecode #design #GIMP

[citrina-posts]

Avatar: Cultural Appreciation or Appropriation?

I love Avatar: the Last Airbender. Obviously I do, because I run a fan blog on it. But make no mistake: it is a show built upon cultural appropriation. And you know what? For the longest time, as an Asian-American kid, I never saw it that way.

There are plenty of reasons why I never realized this as a kid, but I’ve narrowed it down to a few reasons. One is that I was desperate to watch a show with characters that looked like me in it that wasn’t anime (nothing wrong with anime, it’s just not my thing). Another is that I am East Asian (I have Taiwanese and Korean ancestry) and in general, despite being the outward “bad guys”, the East Asian cultural aspects of Avatar are respected far more than South Asian, Middle Eastern, and other influences. A third is that it’s easy to dismiss the negative parts of a show you really like, so I kind of ignored the issue for a while. I’m going to explain my own perspective on these reasons, and why I think we need to have a nuanced discussion about it. 

Obviously, the leadership behind ATLA was mostly white. We all know the co-creators Bryan Konietzko and Michael Dante DiMartino (colloquially known as Bryke) are white. So were most of the other episodic directors and writers, like Aaron Ehasz, Lauren Montgomery, and Joaquim Dos Santos. This does not mean they were unable to treat Asian cultures with respect, and I honestly do believe that they tried their best! But it does mean they have certain blinders, certain perceptions of what is interesting and enjoyable to watch. Avatar was applauded in its time for being based mostly on Asian and Native American cultures, but one has to wonder: how much of that choice was based on actual respect for these people, and how much was based on what they considered to be “interesting”, “quirky”, or “exotic”?

The aesthetic of the show, with its bending styles based on various martial arts forms, written language all in Chinese text, and characters all decked out in the latest Han dynasty fashions, is obviously directly derivative of Asian cultures. Fine. That’s great! They hired real martial artists to copy the bending styles accurately, had an actual Chinese calligrapher do all the lettering, and clearly did their research on what clothing, hair, and makeup looked like. The animation studios were in South Korea, so Korean animators were the ones who did the work. Overall, this is looking more like appreciation for a beautiful culture, and that’s exactly what we want in a rapidly diversifying world of media.

But there’s always going to be some cherry-picking, because it’s inevitable. What’s easy to animate, what appeals to modern American audiences, and what is practical for the world all come to mind as reasons. It’s just that… they kinda lump cultures together weirdly. Song from Book 2 (that girl whose ostrich-horse Zuko steals) wears a hanbok, a traditionally Korean outfit. It’s immediately recognizable as a hanbok, and these dresses are exclusive to Korea. Are we meant to assume that this little corner of the mostly Chinese Earth Kingdom is Korea? Because otherwise, it’s just treated as another little corner of the Earth Kingdom. Korea isn’t part of China. It’s its own country with its own culture, history, and language. Other aspects of Korean culture are ignored, possibly because there wasn’t time for it, but also probably because the creators thought the hanbok was cute and therefore they could just stick it in somewhere. But this is a pretty minor issue in the grand scheme of things (super minor, compared to some other things which I will discuss later on).

It’s not the lack of research that’s the issue. It’s not even the lack of consideration. But any Asian-American can tell you: it’s all too easy for the Asian kids to get lumped together, to become pan-Asian. To become the equivalent of the Earth Kingdom, a mass of Asians without specific borders or national identities. It’s just sort of uncomfortable for someone with that experience to watch a show that does that and then gets praised for being so sensitive about it. I don’t want you to think I’m from China or Vietnam or Japan; not because there’s anything wrong with them, but because I’m not! How would a French person like to be called British? It would really piss them off. Yet this happens all the time to Asian-Americans and we are expected to go along with it. And… we kind of do, because we’ve been taught to.

1. Growing Up Asian-American

I grew up in the early to mid-2000s, the era of High School Musical and Hannah Montana and iCarly, the era of Spongebob and The Amazing World of Gumball and Fairly Odd Parents. So I didn’t really see a ton of Asian characters onscreen in popular shows (not anime) that I could talk about with my white friends at school. One exception I recall was London from Suite Life, who was hardly a role model and was mostly played up for laughs more than actual nuance. Shows for adults weren’t exactly up to par back then either, with characters like the painfully stereotypical Raj from Big Bang Theory being one of the era that comes to mind.

So I was so grateful, so happy, to see characters that looked like me in Avatar when I first watched it. Look! I could dress up as Azula for Halloween and not Mulan for the third time! Nice! I didn’t question it. These were Asian characters who actually looked Asian and did cool stuff like shoot fireballs and throw knives and were allowed to have depth and character development. This was the first reason why I never questioned this cultural appropriation. I was simply happy to get any representation at all. This is not the same for others, though.

2. My Own Biases

Obviously, one can only truly speak for what they experience in their own life. I am East Asian and that is arguably the only culture that is treated with great depth in Avatar.

I don’t speak for South Asians, but I’ve certainly seen many people criticize Guru Pathik, the only character who is explicitly South Asian (and rightly so. He’s a stereotype played up for laughs and the whole thing with chakras is in my opinion one of the biggest plotholes in the show). They’ve also discussed how Avatar: The Last Airbender lifts heavily from Hinduism (with chakras, the word Avatar itself, and the Eye of Shiva used by Combustion Man to blow things up). Others have expressed how they feel the sandbenders, who are portrayed as immoral thieves who deviously kidnap Appa for money, are a direct insult to Middle Eastern and North African cultures. People have noted that it makes no sense that a culture based on Inuit and other Native groups like the Water Tribe would become industrialized as they did in the North & South comics, since these are people that historically (and in modern day!) opposed extreme industrialization. The Air Nomads, based on the Tibetan people, are weirdly homogeneous in their Buddhist-inspired orange robes and hyperspiritual lifestyle. So too have Southeast Asians commented on the Foggy Swamp characters, whose lifestyles are made fun of as being dirty and somehow inferior. The list goes on.

These things, unlike the elaborate and highly researched elements of East Asian culture, were not treated with respect and are therefore cultural appropriation. As a kid, I had the privilege of not noticing these things. Now I do.

White privilege is real, but every person has privileges of some kind, and in this case, I was in the wrong for not realizing that. Yes, I was a kid; but it took a long time for me to see that not everyone’s culture was respected the way mine was. They weren’t considered *aesthetic* enough, and therefore weren’t worth researching and accurately portraying to the creators. It’s easy for a lot of East Asians to argue, “No! I’ve experienced racism! I’m not privileged!” News flash: I’ve experienced racism too. But I’ve also experienced privilege. If white people can take their privilege for granted, so too can other races. Shocking, I know. And I know now how my privilege blinded me to the fact that not everybody felt the same euphoria I did seeing characters that looked like them onscreen. Not if they were a narrow and offensive portrayal of their race. There are enough good-guy Asian characters that Fire Lord Ozai is allowed to be evil; but can you imagine if he was the only one?

3. What It Does Right

This is sounding really down on Avatar, which I don’t want to do. It’s a great show with a lot of fantastic themes that don’t show up a lot in kids’ media. It isn’t superficial or sugarcoating in its portrayal of the impacts of war, imperialism, colonialism, disability, and sexism, just to name a few. There are characters like Katara, a brown girl allowed to get angry but is not defined by it. There are characters like Aang, who is the complete opposite of toxic masculinity. There are characters like Toph, who is widely known as a great example of how to write a disabled character.

But all of these good things sort of masked the issues with the show. It’s easy to sweep an issue under the rug when there’s so many great things to stack on top and keep it down. Alternatively, one little problem in a show seems to make-or-break media for some people. Cancel culture is the most obvious example of this gone too far. Celebrity says one ignorant thing? Boom, cancelled. But… kind of not really, and also, they’re now terrified of saying anything at all because their apologies are mocked and their future decisions are scrutinized. It encourages a closed system of creators writing only what they know for fear of straying too far out of their lane. Avatar does do a lot of great things, and I think it would be silly and immature to say that its cultural appropriation invalidates all of these things. At the same time, this issue is an issue that should be addressed. Criticizing one part of the show doesn’t mean that the other parts of it aren’t good, or that you shouldn’t be a fan.

If Avatar’s cultural appropriation does make you uncomfortable enough to stop watching, go for it. Stop watching. No single show appeals to every single person. At the same time, if you’re a massive fan, take a sec (honestly, if you’ve made it this far, you’ve taken many secs) to check your own privilege, and think about how the blurred line between cultural appreciation (of East Asia) and appropriation (basically everybody else) formed. Is it because we as viewers were also captivated by the aesthetic and overall story, and so forgive the more problematic aspects? Is it because we’ve been conditioned so fully into never expecting rep that when we get it, we cling to it?

I’m no media critic or expert on race, cultural appropriation, or anything of the sort. I’m just an Asian-American teenager who hopes that her own opinion can be put out there into the world, and maybe resonate with someone else. I hope that it’s given you new insight into why Avatar: The Last Airbender is a show with both cultural appropriation and appreciation, and why these things coexist. Thank you for reading!