#i am so over this fucking pervasive abusive bullshit.

[tshifty]

.

[hippiegoth97]

Let Me Make Some Shit Clear

Hey, everybody. I never thought I would have to make a post like this, but here we go. Today I was tagged in a post by the lovely @violetpixiedust (please check out their post about this as well they cover it extremely well) and found out I was mentioned in a 'call-out' post for my Gator Tillman one-shot. The OP of the call-out post didn't have the balls to tag me, and instead listed me with many others and blocked me unprovoked. Here's screenshots of that post. I'll go into my feelings on that in a second. But, take a moment to read through all that.

So, let's set the record straight so nobody misunderstands me.

I do not in any way support MAGA bullshit, or any conservative ideology of any kind. I am a bisexual, leftist, atheist woman who believes in equality, respect, and rights for all.

I do not condone the awful actions of Gator Tillman, or his shit father. My story was very clear on that as well, he's extremely flawed and I thought I made that obvious. I really tried to drive home the fact that he's a product of abuse.

I was rooting for Dorothy Lyon the whole fucking season, because she is a badass woman who has been through too much for one lifetime. I myself am a victim of child abuse which has carried on into my adulthood. I know her. I am her. But I also know, and am, Gator. The OP also completely glazes over the fact that Gator was extremely abused. We see how Roy treats his 'property'. I do not think Gator would have been able to leave the ranch either, unless he got married off. If he left, he would be hunted down too.

Also, Gator knows he did bad things, he was ready to go to jail to pay for them as long as his awful father was kept away from him. Because he FEARED HIM. He was literally a child stuck in a grown man's body, and that is how we sympathize with him. And he killed that poor old woman on accident, I'm sure he took no pleasure in that. And the man in the skirt paid him back triple.

And another thing, it's fanfiction. And for those of you who have been in the trenches as long as I have would know that all kinds of stories get told in this community of ours. Is it always ethical? no. Is it always 100% morally sound? No. Does it explore many taboo subjects through artistic expression? Hell yes. There is a ton of stuff out there that I find repulsive and would never read. I will not say what because it is not my place to censor or judge others, or tell them how to express themselves. I simply focus on the works I do like, and read those. And this is something new fandom culture has seemed to have forgotten. Over and over I see people wringing their hands at smut, or subjects they find triggering, or things society says are wrong. But you're really opening a fucking can of worms when you're calling for the reporting, banning, and censorship of those who think differently than you. That's how you get laws like KOSA that directly target POC and LGBTQ+ content because some think it's 'pervasive' to children. That's how you get laws prohibiting teaching real history and removing diverse books from libraries.

Lastly, I will NEVER, EVER censor myself to please others. I will write whatever the fuck I want. You don't have to like it. That's fine. I learned a long time ago that I'm not to everyone's taste. And I've long since stopped giving a rat's ass about it. I am an artist, and I will continue to create the art that I am passionate about until my last dying breath.

[patrocles]

*guy who knows fuck all about twilight voice* i cannot even begin to describe how interested i am in your extremely specific thoughts on twilight. especially in regard to its takes on classism

I appreciate you so much for saying that especially since everything following this will be so deeply incoherent.

This is mainly in regards to the films since I've seen them recently and I haven't read the books since I was like 14.

The thing about Twilight is that the two defining discourses that dominated this series were "Is Bella a bad Feminist" and "Team Edward vs Team Jacob".

The idea that Bella (aged 17), upon meeting Edward (aged 109) and begins dating him, is ready to give up everything in her life to marry him, die, and become a vampire and devoting her entire life to him; does this set back womanhood decades or is this simply Bella exercising her free will. And the other being which guy is better for Bella, the mega wealthy Edward who can provide everything for her or working class poor Jacob who's the childhood friend.

Twilight didnt define the tropes of love triangles or even the concept of the girl plucked from obscurity and given the fairytale life by someone so insanely rich who could have chosen anyone but still chooses her. It's not even an objectively bad fantasy to explore. But I think what's kinda unique to Twilight and I think what a lot of bad booktok romance novels can trace their tropes back to in Twilight, is this idea that wealth can excuse any wrong-doing.

Edward is deeply controlling of Bella, he's condescending and belittles her, he grooms her, he leaves her deeply traumatized when he randomly abandons her in the second book/novel to the point of near catatonic depression. But ultimately at the end of the day it's fine because what Edward can provide for Bella makes it all worth it! He can take her places and buy her things, of course she'll be humble but that's why she's so #real. Hell it doesn't even matter that we don't even know what they even like about each other beyond mutual obsession and possession in the general sense. And this is something that's so pervasive in the romance genre, it's what spawned 50 Shades specifically. Abuse, physical or emotional, is excused by obscene wealth because what's temporary discomfort and domineering misogyny to private jets and mansions.

If we're being honest, the question of whether or not Bella is a good or bad feminist character is sort of moot when what we're actually seeing is just a sad story of an emotionally isolated girl have her entire existence wrapped up in Edward and know that she's never going to have a come-to-Jesus moment and value her own self worth over Edward. There's a scene in Eclipse when she tells Jacob that immediately after graduation, she's going to marry Edward and become a vampire like him. Jacob is angry about this but it's not even a "pick him over me" moment, but as a friend who doesn't want to see his best friend give up her entire existence to this guy. Even says, "he's got his hooks in you so deep". There's another scene when her father, (the MVP), just wants her to see her other friends outside of Edward and have some sort of life outside of Edward and it's almost like a metatextual awareness that SOMEONE in this story recognizes that Bella is being groomed and that this is all really REALLY toxic. It's a horror story! But of course it immediately pivots back to star crossed lovers bullshit because LOOK, Edward took her to a private island and they can travel the world. But more than anything it feels like they’re trying to establish a sort or attempt at a balance but what’s scary is knowing that Jacob and Charlie’s concerns and reservations are essentially pointless and empty compared to Edward’s financial and physical capabilities and the depth of his grooming in Bella. It’s actually charming that Charlie thinks he can realistically stand a chance against Edward if he really wanted to establish true parental control over his child. Like it’s genuinely sad to watch, actually.

And sure, so much of that we can write off as just being dated at worst. But definitely not end of the world stuff especially considering where that kind of trope has grown into way more severe cases of straight of kidnap/rape fantasy in mafia romance erotica we see today. Which is kind of MAD when you think about what teen girls were reading in the 00s versus what the teens of today are reading. I guess thanks Steph for being Mormon and keeping it PG???

But for ME, PERSONALLY, what's been kinda itching my brain in relation to this is how this pertains to Jacob. It is hard to view Twilight as mere late 00s nostalgia campy mess when I think about how absolutely awful Jacob is treated by the narrative for the sole crime of not being Edward, and by extension, wealthy. This isn't even about which guy was better for Bella, but how the story decides it was necessary for the reader to know that Jacob was NOT the correct option. He goes from earnest good guy who genuinely cares for Bella's physical and emotional well being as just a friend to her when Edward abandoned her, to basically a fucking incel who can't respect boundaries, and then Edward and Bella's lapdog in their happily ever after for no other reason than the narrative demanding it happen for Bella and Edward to be together. And for you the reader to want that to happen.

I've never been able to divorce the racial and classist undertones to this narrative choice to this. In a lot of media that came after that deals with love triangles, the "Jacob archetype" eventually became the often times not white, best friend, good guy type who was never really The One, but just another option for our Main Girl to explore until she gets back to the The One.

But thing is, Jacob was never just random guy option 2. He was working class poor and indigenous. A lot of his character is defined by this and his culture. And this HONESTLY made the Cullens animosity towards Jacob and the Pack kind of actually ridiculous and racist. Like I get Steph was just using the trope of Vampires and Werewolves: eternal enemies, but that isn't really applicable here when the shapeshifting isn't an trait that can be passed on to anyone like vampirism, but something unique to these specific people whose land they're infringing upon. So the little side digs and remarks and the absolute audacity that the Quileutes are just being so unreasonable when the Cullens have the money and means to live anywhere, but choose this boundary of a poor people who're merely trying to keep what's theirs, and we're still supposed to root for the Cullens because they're the Good Ones is like........... girl okay.

And this is all completely secondary to the way Steph appropriated the Quileute tribe, fucked around with their cultural traditions to invent her own lore, never financially compensated the tribe despite her and the producers of the films making MILLIONS, and two of the actors featured in the first film were recast for New Moon because they wouldn't cut their hair. BUT I DIGRESS.

I watched the New Moon special features where Chaske Spencer (who plays Sam) talks about how Jacob's house was extremely authentic to places he lived on his reservation. I'm not indigenous, but I did grow up working class poor and I personally always loved that this was a factor to Jacob and the pack. It didn't define them as people, but provided a sort of grounding depth and relatability that makes you want to explore them more. It isn't a lot but it's something. And hell, even Bella comes from a working class background which I genuinely liked especially as a youth when I'm trying to find some way to connect to this perfectly pretty white character.

But what's kinda frustrating in so many ways is how despite the alleged importance of Jacob and the Pack to the overall story, they are shelved so much. So we really don't get to see them, explore them as characters, their dynamics, and the tribe much as much as they could have been except for the very few times it's relevant to Bella and Edward. And given that Breaking Dawn specifically was TWO FILMS, there was no excuse for it. And it feels insulting to have the concept of the Pack, but we have to save our precious screen time for Bella and Edward playing chess.

I don’t even think people really understand just how almost non existent it is to see authentic depictions of lower/working class people in these kinds of stories. If you’ve never grown up poor it’s probably not something you even notice, just how default upper middle class almost everything (especially in YA) actually is. I think it’s something people don’t want to have to tackle so it just gets avoided? Unless we specifically need the 1 side character who is The Poor Friend, we need to have characters be in financially comfortable positions so the Plot can happen without having to worry about pesky things like bills. And so again, in that sort of authenticity it’s a double edged sword because while that is great to have included in a series like this, the classist undertones are so pervasive in how so much of Edward’s allure to Bella is rooted in wealth. A sort of inherent superiority to her own simple, non important life because of the trappings of his dress, his car, his mansion. There’s an unearned moral goodness that’s applied to Edward because of how we as a society view wealthy people as being inherently good and well meaning despite their actions consistently contradicting this. And it isn’t hard to see the ways in which this grooms Bella and that we the viewer must applaud this, cheer this, and would be aghast and disgusted if Bella was put off by the grandeur and wealth and wanted nothing to do with it because why would you possibly give that up? Again she can have the allusion of financial independence with a cute little job, but we know it isn’t necessary. We arent really meant to support the Quileute’s animosity towards the Cullens because they’re being irrational despite having bigger stakes that are considered frivolous and irrelevant to the Cullens (like retaining land autonomy). The best that Jacob could ever achieve in this story is to be at service to the Cullens and that’s meant to be a happy ending for him. Whatever his hopes and dreams were are inherently inferior to how important being the guard dog to a half vampire miracle child.

So yeah. I get the whole Twilight Renaissance, I get why people go back to it especially as it pertains to girlhood nostalgia. The soundtracks remain in constant rotation. I get why people want to reclaim the thing that made them happy in their youth when society shamed them for it as being just Cringe Girl Stuff. But for ME, it is hard for me to watch these and not be icked with how a lot of things were portrayed especially when it could have been a better story.

[twobrokenwyngs]

Jackie I'm still saving the last ep but. I need to hear your thoughts about TD. Is there a tag where you've screamed about it? Or feel free to do it again!! What do you love about it. Tell meeee

screaming and crying over this ask tbhhh

firstly - I do have a true detective tag! and a rust cohle tag! and a rust x marty tag! and although I don't have a distinct tag for meta & such, I infuse most of my reblogs with an insane amount of unhinged raving in the tags, so, lmao. it's def there if you want it! XD

secondly - there is actually a lot I can't say without you having seen the last episode, in particular the way the show ends. one of the things I love is the fullness of their arc(s) and the way they're changed by the end, for which you gotta see how it wraps up!!!

all that aside though... man. why I love this show is almost too big and amorphous to answer lol, but I'll give it a shot!

lmao whoops this got long

I mean... one obvious variable is Rust himself. I am so endlessly compelled by both the tragedy and the potential of him. by thinking about who he used to be - when he had Sophia, when he had Claire. he tells Papania and Gilbough that the job didn't make him that way but that being that way made him right for the job, but was he always that way? was he always a lonely jaded cynic, a product of growing up in the Alaskan wilderness with nothing but his imagination and his synesthesia to keep him occupied? is his nihilism baked into his DNA or was it carefully constructed after a lifetime of being abandoned and disappointed, used and discarded? the thing about him is that he wears that nihilism on the surface, almost like a badge of honor, but there is always this pervasive sense that he is in a state of grief for the things he no longer allows himself - love, desire, softness, comfort, hope. he has made himself into this target for other peoples' pain and bullshit because it slides right off him, so he might as well, right?

like, the whole thing with Crash... that REALLY fucks me up. episode 4 is actually my favorite, and Crash is definitely a huge part of that. he accesses a whole different part of himself to inhabit that person. you can tell that during his time with the Iron Crusaders, he was like... their pet. fed drugs and passed around, used and abused, all for the sake of "the job," but it so clearly was a way to exercise self-punishment, an excuse to remove himself from polite society and just give in to his baser nature. when it came time to put Crash back on, he donned him like a second skin, confident to the point of mania, in a way that breaks my fucking heart. I could go on and on about Crash tbh, it almost warrants its own post lol.

and then there's like, the way he has somehow both no relationship with his body and yet a strict routine for its upkeep. he keeps the engine running (or at least he did, for a while) but he doesn't allow that body so much as the dignity of sleeping with a bedframe. he doesn't use it for pleasure, he barely knows how to control it when he's not using it for his job. and yet, every single thing about his physicality compels me. his slouch. his gait. his little mouth noises. matt mcc I can take or leave, but I think Rust specifically is one of the most beautiful creatures I have ever seen or ever will see.

okay... let me move on to Marty. Marty is fucking fascinating to me. he's a bastard and an asshole and a hypocrite and I think so much about the way insecurity rules his life. he makes all of his choices based on what he thinks he should want, what kind of man he thinks he should be, and he will delude himself to the point of absurdity in order to realize that vision. (it's why, in my headcanon, comphet plays a huge role in his relationship with Rust and with himself, but that's another story.) like, Marty doesn't actually want to be a family man lmao, but, he has to want to be one. where Rust has given up all illusions of being any sort of person at all, Marty has made pointed decisions about what kind of person - what sort of Man - he is, and that's that. so, nothing slides off him, because everything challenges his fragile sense of self. he overcompensates, he's a product of generational toxic masculinity - by all accounts he's a total stereotype. but like... that's what makes his relationship with Rust so goddamn irresistible.

there's just so much going on there, constantly. Marty claims not to want to get to know Rust, but he can't stop digging and prying, and his protests about what he finds are so... performative. he can barely show up for his own family in the most basic of ways but he's constantly bringing Rust food & coffee, voicing concern about the way Rust lives, trusting him, vouching for him - he cares. so much. and because there's no road map of Expectations to dictate that care, he never becomes suffocated by it. and Rust, despite himself, can feel all of that. it is no small thing for Rust, the eternal lone wolf, to have a partner. he most definitely knows Marty thoroughly - knows when he's lying to himself, knows when to call him on it and when not to. for Marty, he makes a space. carves a notch into the solid rock of his soul and reserves it for Marty alone. after their split, he never really recovers. neither of them do. Rust never fixes his taillight, Marty lets everything dissolve once and for all and spends years alone with his microwave dinners, because what's the point? what they felt when they were together, what they had, was incredibly profound and deeply beyond articulation (they're not willing to do it, even if they could.) and it is truly in the finale that you see the veracity of that change, what means to unexpectedly reclaim the thing that changed you.

anyway, this was just sorta a stream of consciousness, not particularly considered and very off the cuff, and therefore barely skims the surface of why I love this show. I'm sure I'm leaving out so, so much. and of course, it doesn't even touch on the baser reasons I love it/them - I love stories about bitter washed-up old men!!! I love the idea of what they could mean to each other! theirs is some of the only fic I've ever cried at or reread. their happiness, their future, is so ridiculously important to me. and I love the music! and the southern gothic vibes! and Rust's scraggly long hair and his insane mustache and how good he looks in that black shirt when he takes Marty to the storage locker!!! I love that from that first episode, the moment Rust showed up at Marty's door plastered and crying, I knew I was done-for. I mean. y'know?!?!?!

welp lmao. I don't think all THIS is what you asked for but it's what came outta me, so, hey. thank you for giving me a reason to think about them tonight!!!

[nishisun]

suna rintaro is NOT a genius.

summary: you loved the idea of soulmates. suna rintaro didn’t. it isn’t that hard to put two and two together to realize that maybe people with different opinions on things don’t belong together.

part 2

a/n: this was literally supposed to be a series, i gave up on it because i just didn’t like the way it turned out. it used to be called “out of my league” and this was the intro. i also renamed it. just emptying drafts!! please don’t get confused with the random timeskip, once again, this was a part of a series i never ended up posting😭

WARNING!!: suggestive themes, mentions of death, idk kinda angsty but tell me if i missed anything

Soulmates. Whatever the hell that means. The idea of soulmates is something I truly don’t understand. It’s bullshit, honestly. It’s all-pervasive.

My mother always told me I'd eventually find "the one.” I used to believe that when I was younger of course. But in my opinion? It’s all cliches. It's unhelpful, and it's certainly not true. Destiny is an excuse for the weak. Why do you think most marriages end in divorce? It's 'cause people who believe they are “destined to be" assume everything will fall into place without any effort. I don't appreciate people pontificating bullshit like that just to make me feel better, especially if they haven't found their "soulmate" themselves. My sister once told me, “People who believe in soulmates are more likely to break up and encounter more difficulty in their relationship, which will lead them to give up on one another eventually.”

I sure do believe that.

My mother is a prime example. Fumeiko Suna, my dear mother. Well, she clearly hasn’t found hers. I found out when I came home after a tedious day of school in 5th grade and found my dear mother on the floor crying, with bruises all over her face and a busted lip.

Initially, I thought a burglar had broken into our home once again, but if that were the case then there would’ve been missing furniture. But there wasn’t.

In fact, the place seemed cleaner than usual. When I ran up to her and asked her what had happened, there he was. The devil himself. My father. He reeked of alcohol, and I could detect his shadow towering over me. It’s funny how that I think of it. I used to fear that son of a bitch. Now, I’m way taller than him, and hate his guts. I turned around to see a faux-sympathetic smile plastered on his face.

He explained how my mother was being “clumsy” and had fell and busted her lip on one of the corners of the kitchen table and when I turned back around to face my mother, she smiled gently and nodded in agreement. She didn’t say anything after that.

It was then I realized my father had beat my mother to a pulp.

Long story short, when I found it was my father, sure, I was frightened. In fact, I remember going into my siblings’ rooms to inform them, they shrugged it off and told me that dad had been doing it for a while now.

Over time, when my dad had found out that I was aware, he didn't mind beating the absolute shit out of my mother in front of all three of us. This was when my burning hatred for that man started. Nobody in the house even attempted to stop him. I did a few times, though. He took all his anger out on me. At least my mom had a break for the day.

I almost pitied my mother. Almost. Maybe if she was strong enough to leave him, then yeah, I’d feel bad. But she still decides to stay with his sorry ass. It’s pathetic. It’s unrequited love or whatever you call it. How could she still love that asshole?

I mean, I’m not even going to lie, I’m an asshole too, but I’m definitely not my dad. I would never want to be him. He’s not someone I looked up to, he doesn’t do anything inspirational. He’s a businessman. He travels the majority of the time, and I’m pretty sure my mom invites men over when he’s gone. I don’t care enough to find out. But if I ever hear some guy rearranging my mom’s guts, I’ll kill him. I don’t even blame my mother. What she’s doing is wrong, she knows it and so do both of my older siblings. But they don't seem to care so why should I?

Who knows why she just won’t leave him. Maybe it’s cause they don’t want to ruin how people view our “picture perfect” family. I wonder what they’d say. “I thought the Suna’s were the ideal family? I guess not.”

My dad would probably lose it if he heard that.

Both my mother and my father are the cause of this broken family of mine. They never fed me or any of my siblings the love we always desired when we were younger. They never came to any of my volleyball games when I was younger. They never applauded me for the little recitals we’d have in class in primary school. They were never even here for most of my childhood. They always put money first and left us with the housekeepers. Hell, the housekeepers probably know me better than my own parents.They failed as parents. I despise them for it. They’re most likely the reason I am the way I am, but to be honest?

I don’t give a fuck.

In fact, I should thank them! Because of how they “raised” me, i’m extremely blunt, which is why people respect me. I use the hatred I have for my family and take it out on people and no, I’m not proud of that. I may be a heartless asshole, but I like that people fear me. The hell? Does that make me a sadist? Either way, people know to never fuck with me cause I’d fuck their shit up. I’ve overheard many people say it’s ‘cause of my privilege. It probably is. Money can’t buy happiness, but it sure can buy you many other things.

If my parents were broke, I’d probably be expelled from school by now. Abuse of alcohol and drugs are forbidden on school property. I don’t even take them at school, I somewhat care about my education and health, but sometimes I just need to blow some steam. Even if I did, nobody’s gonna say shit since my dad is the head of Japan’s board of education. How did his ass even get there?

Call me lonely or cynical. Maybe I am. But how is that a bad thing? Why do people need a significant other to rely on? What, a soulmate is just going to turn my life upside down then suddenly bring me happiness? Pfft, I’m gonna need actual proof that shit like that still happens. I’ve only seen shit like that in fairy tale movies. It’s whatever, though. I can live with being alone. I’ve basically been alone my whole life and it isn’t as bad as people make it.

You loved the idea of having a soulmate. The thought of meeting someone who just understood you, accepted you for who you were, and most importantly, loved you excited you. You couldn’t wait to meet your soulmate.

But recently, you weren’t sure soulmates existed.

When your older sister, Akira, came into your room and burst into tears, it frightened you. Your older sister, the one who’d always provide you advice on relationships and how to keep one was in your room sobbing hysterically because hers hadn’t worked out.

“I just can't believe it,” she sobbed.

You couldn’t believe it either. Your sister had recently gotten engaged to her boyfriend of 9 years. They started dating at the age of 15 and managed to make things work out even after high school, and out of all those years of dating, they never broke up. Not even once.

They’d go on romantic dates on Saturdays and they’d always write love letters to one another every day, just to remind one another of how grateful they were to have each other in their lives. On Halloween, they’d dress up as fictional characters from TV shows and books and take cute selfies and bake a bunch of sweets. They’d invite you to come bake with them, but you would politely deny. You knew they were only offering so you wouldn’t feel left out, which you appreciated.

Of course, they’d argue every now and then, but at the end of the day, they always managed to talk things out. Oh to have a relationship like theirs. They were everything you wanted to have in a relationship and more.

“I really thought he was the one for me, y’know?” No, you don’t know. But that doesn't matter. What mattered was cheering your sister up.

“Maybe he wasn’t ‘the one’ Akira, and that’s okay! People come and go all the time, soulmates come and go all the time as well-”

“You still believe soulmates are real, huh?” she let out a humorless laugh and sniffed her nose, “What If I missed my one shot at love, Y/N? What if I lost my soulmate?”

That’s some deep shit.

Now that you think about it, were soulmates real? Soulmates come and go, yes, you’re aware of that, but even though they leave, it’s always temporary. Soulmates always find a way back to their other half, the piece that completes them.

Your dad never made it back to your mother.

He died in a car crash 5 years ago. Your mother and father had been arguing because she claimed your father was cheating on her since he wouldn’t let her check his phone.

You were 13 at the time. Your sister Akira was accompanying you in your room, listening to them arguing back and forth with one another. There was furniture flying across the room, glass breaking, and both of them throwing curses at each other. You were scared. They never argued in front of you and your sister. They'd bicker sometimes, but it was never anything too deep.

Eventually, your father had enough of your mother’s false accusations, and out of anger, he packed his things and left home. For weeks. It wasn’t until one of your uncles called your mother and broke the news. She didn’t take it very well.

Late 2012-early 2013.

Not many people came to your father’s funeral, his family didn’t like the fact that he and your mother were together, they said your mother was trouble, but your dad still stayed with her, even if that meant it would completely destroy the bond he had with his family. Now that’s true love, you had thought. Only your mother, Akira, the Sunas, your uncle, and you, of course, attended the funeral.

It hurt a lot. It hurt when your mother informed both your grandparents on your mother and father’s side and all they could do is put the blame on her. It hurt how they had claimed you, Akira and your mother were a hindrance to your dear father’s well-being. How could they be so cruel at a time like this?

That was the first time you ever questioned if soulmates were real. Maybe they fell in love at the wrong time? Who knows.

After your father’s passing, Fumiko Suna, your mother’s best friend, was there to help your family out financially. Your mother couldn’t even find the motivating to go to work. Your mother and Fumiko have been best friends since junior high, they’ve literally been inseparable ever since. In fact, after they both got married, they decided to live right next to each other.

Your mom didn’t cope with your father’s death very well; none of you did. But your mom had it the worst.

She would cope with alcohol and clubbing which would always result in her bringing different men home almost every night. You didn’t say much about it, you thought it would be selfish to since that’s what seemed to make your mother feel better about herself, but your sister hated it. She was already 19 and in college at the time, but when she visited and found out that your mother had basically been neglecting you, she was furious.

“Seriously, mom? This is what you’re gonna do while your 13-year-old daughter is in her room having a literal mental breakdown because of your childish behavior?” Your sister had barged into your mother’s room when she thought you were asleep, she was screaming loud.

“You’re interrupting something important, Akira. You know better than to-”

“Oh, shut the hell up mom. You’re the last person on earth to be saying shit like that.”

“Well, if you’re done, you can leave my room now. You’re being disrespectful, and this behavior is not tolerated!” Your mother was screaming now. The man in the bed covering his body under the covers and looking back and forth between Akira and your mother.

“Sakiya, maybe you should hear your daughter out-”

“Not now.” your mother scarcely interrupted the man, eye contact never leaving Akira. “Y/N has never complained about this when you were in college. She knows this is my way of coping, why can’t you understand that too!”

Akira scoffed. “So what, getting fucked by random strangers you find on the filthy streets is your way of coping? Getting wasted every damn night to the point where Y/N has to drag you up to bed is okay with you? Do you even know how much this is affecting Y/N? Did you even bother asking her how she felt? I hate breaking it to you mom, but you need serious help.”

“You selfish child!” Your mother screamed, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around her body, getting up from the bed. “How dare you say that to your own mother?”

“I’m only telling the truth! If you’re the mother, then it’s your job to be taking care of Y/N, not neglecting her. When’s the last time you’ve engross in an actual conversation with her when you were fully sober?”

Your mother was silent. She quickly walked up to Akira and grabbed her by the hair and slammed her headfirst against the wall.

“You’ve got a big mouth! Maybe I should wash it with soap like I did back in the day, hm?” Akira was attempting to push her mother away, but she wouldn’t let go of her grip. The man that was still on your mother’s bed was in panic, yelling her name, which didn’t have any effect. He might as well stop.

"Look," Akira mumbled, struggling to get away from your mother's grip, "I know it's been hard ever since dad left-"

“Mom! Let go of her!” You cried from the door of her room.

All 3 adults froze and looked at your glassy eyes, mouths wide open.

“Hey, kiddo, I thought you were asleep?” Akira playfully said, your mother let go of Akira and crossed her arms then looked away from you.

“Well, I can't really go to sleep when there’s a bunch of adults yelling about my well-being,” you muttered incoherently. You quickly wiped the uncontrollable tears off your face and sighed.

“Honey,” your mom started, she walked slowly to you, carefully examined your face, and attempted to hug you, but you didn’t accept the offer which made your mother frown. She stopped walking until she was almost face to face with you and placed a hand on your shoulder gently. “Baby, your sister told me that you weren’t happy. Is this true?”

You looked away from her and stared dully at the floor, subtly shifting your feet, then you softly shook your head “no.”

“See Akira, Y/N is happy. So please stop stressing her out.” Your mother said through gritted teeth, then faced you once again. “Y/N honey, how about I go tuck you into bed, hm? I’m so sorry for the excessive noise that was caused.”

“Mom, how clueless can you be? Y/N looks miserable! It’s unhealthy for Y/N to be living-“

Slap.

Your mother just slapped Akira on the face.

“I know what’s best for my daughter! I am her mother! You are not the one who should be telling me how to take care of my own kid!”

“That’s enough, Sakiya.” a familiar voice said from the door.

“Fumeiko-“

“It’s fine. Sakiya, we need to talk.” It was Fumeiko Suna, your mother’s best friend, also known as your next door neighbor. She had been standing in the hallways the whole time, you didn’t even know she was there. Akira was the one who called her over.

That night your mother agreed to get help for her drinking problem. She was gone for 6 months. During those 6 months, the Suna’s took you in since Akira would be in college and you couldn’t have been more grateful.

You and Rintaro were the only kids in the house, being that you both were the same age and the others were in college. It was okay, they were all very polite, dinners were awkward, you could feel some sort of tension between the family but you didn’t pay any attention to it.

When your mom finally came back, it was awkward at first. She still seemed the same, loving and caring, just sober and free of alcohol. It was nice. You two spent the weekends bonding at the mall, watching a movie, or even getting your nails done. Eventually, she gained your trust back, and you couldn’t have been happier.

January 2017.

“Akira, don’t say that. You may not believe me now, but you are such an amazing person, don’t ever think you’ll never find love again. It’s all about having a positive mindset!” you said, thoughtfully stroking her hair as her head laid on your chest.

“I told you that.”

“You did,” you chuckled, “you should take your own advice.

“Oh, shut up!” you both laughed, and Akira let out a shaky sigh. “Thank you, Y/N.”

“Of course, you don't need to thank me. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

— so this is one of the writings that i wrote in January 😭 it’s been in my drafts and i re-read it once and instantly hated it right after. if there’s any typos please tell me!!

— also i wanna apologize again for putting gmds on hiatus,, i feel so bad 😭 i wanna make it up to you guys but idk how so if you have suggestions pls tell me

[carriagelamp]

September Book Roundup, back-to-school edition aka The Season Of Red apparently?

Here is a selection of the books I’ve read this month. Summer is over, so the little bit of brain power I had managed to scrape together is quickly disintegrating, so enjoying the hodge podge of stories.

Binti

This was probably my favourite book that I read this month. It’s a novella I first heard about hear on tumblr and went to find a copy in my library. I have since bought the collected trilogy so I can read book two and three at my leisure because it was honestly just that friggin cool. This is exactly my flavour of scifi and I tend to be very very picky about the scifi I consume. It’s about a girl named Binti, a member of the Himba people (a real group of indigenous people from Namibia). They are a people well known for their mathematical and technical prowess, but due to their strong connection to their homeland and the earth they choose not to travel through space like so many other humans do. However, when Binti secures a position at Oomza University, the greatest university in the galaxy, she chooses to go against her family’s wishes and traditions in order to set out into space to attend. Everything is ruined though when her spaceship is attacked by a hostile alien race and everyone is killed but Binti, who must rely on all her intellect and abilities if she wants any chance at survival.

A seriously cool book with great world building – it really successfully introduces readers not only to the fictional scifi world and races of the novel but also to the culture and traditions of the Himba people. It’s a quick read, and feels like a cross between Dead Space and Tamora Pierce. Would totally recommend a read.

Fake Blood

A Canadian graphic novel. It was a goofy cute read. It’s about an awkward group of friends in middle school, and one boy with a crush on one of the girls in his class. Knowing her love for vampire stories, AJ decides, like any self-respecting middle schooler, to try to pretend he’s a vampire. Naturally nothing goes right and some things go wrong in unexpected ways. It’s funny and cute. Nothing amazing but it was a cozy evening read.

The Last Book On The Left

I’ve been listening to this podcast a lot since my friend recommended it to me and finally decided to read their book. For those that don’t know, The Last Podcast On The Left is a immaculately researched comedy podcast that’s hosted by Ben Kissel, Marcus Parks, and Henry Zebrowski, and explores the darker realms of human nature. Ghosts, paranormal, aliens, cults, and of course serial killers. In this book they collected several of their biggest name serial killer series, did some renewed research, and put together a book that is both informative, irreverent, gross, and very funny, complete with some really amazing illustrations by Tom Neely. A very cool read (and listen, if you decide to check out the podcast instead), I really love how they tell these stories without idolizing or romanticizing the people they talk about. Their humour always makes sure you know exactly how much of a pathetic loser these people are. Fantastic true crime, from someone who has never really felt the need to read about true crime before.

Midnight Sun

I won’t harp on this one, everyone is already going to firmly have their opinions here. I grew up on Twilight, I was reading them as they came out, and I still love them. Were they dumb? Oh my god yes. Did they have problems? Sure, they came out in 2005 it was part and parcel. Were they also a really fun for a thirteen year old to read? Absolutely, I don’t regret it. Sometimes teenage girls should just to get like things without being mocked.

Anyway, I am off my soapbox now (can you tell this is still a raw spot for me?) I unironically loved this book! Getting to see Edward’s perspective was really cool, and since he can read minds it essentially let you get the perspective of everyone else around him too. The Cullens family is a great set of characters so it was really cool to see more of them, and I was very impressed by how Stephenie Meyers took a YA romance she wrote in 2005 and was able to make it feel updated and more appropriate for a 2020 audience even though she couldn’t actually change any of the events themselves. So fans of Twilight, don’t be ashamed, go read Midnight Sun and have the shameless fun you deserve. Is there anymore appropriate book for the bizarre ass year that was 2020 than a return to this goofy nonsense?

The Paperbag Princess

(and Up, Up, Down, and Robert Munsch in general)

I’m back in schools so I’m back to reading children’s book! And honestly, and of you that don’t occasionally sit down and read a kids book out loud don’t know what you’re missing. Anyway, Robert Munsch is a Canadian author, and one of my all-time favourite children’s authors. It surprised me to learn he isn’t as well known in the States apparently? I don’t know if that’s changed or not, but he is a Canadian staple for a good reason, his books have ridiculous premises, are specifically written to be fun to read out loud, and have beautiful, involved, and hilarious illustrations. The Paperbag Princess is one of my absolute favourites, and as a kid it was one of the first stories I had ever read where a princess is the one saving the prince… and then telling the prince to piss off when it turns out he’s a jerk. Up, Up, Down is another favourite I reread this month, because it’s just hilarious funny and makes a fantastic read aloud with kids. Some other Robert Munsch I reread this month include: Mmm, Cookies, More Pies, Ribbon Rescue, Just One Goal, and Andrew’s Loose Tooth. You just cannot go wrong, for kids or adults.

Pit Pony

Another Canadian staple while I was growing up. If you’re a young adult know who went through the Canadian elementary school system, you probably had your entire heart ripped out and stepped on by this chapter book. It’s a historical fiction that looks at the economic hardship, debt slavery, child labour, and animal abuse that was tied to coal mining in the Maritimes. Finding a copy was harder than I would have expected give how pervasive it was a decade or so back, but reading it again was a pure shot of nostalgia.

Seeking Refuge

A graphic novel written by a German-born Canadian about a Jewish girl who flees Nazi-occupied Austria by way of Kindertransport to become a child refuge in England. It follows her as she is moved from host family to host family as the war continues to pick up and gradually makes it’s way to the United Kingdom as well. It’s very poignant and the pencil-sketch illustrations are an interesting change to a lot of the graphic novels that are out right now. This story is still aimed at a younger audience, so it never gets too brutal but it still is a hard hitting story, especially with everything else going on right now.

Silver Spoon #9/10

I know I’ve talked about these books before, but my library got some more since I last read them, so I’m continuing my way through the series. It’s about a teenaged boy who, after having a breakdown from the pressure he was feeling to study and succeeded, decided not to attend an academic, urban high school, but rather to apply for an agricultural high school so he could live in the dorms, far away from his parents. The series just gets more and more heartwarming as it continues. It’s all about failure and overcoming and how worth can be measured in different ways, and about family and understanding each other and coming together… but also about the realities of farming which aren’t always very nice, especially when it comes to finances and survival. It’s written by the mangaka behind Fullmetal Alchemist but I’ll be honest… I think I like this series more. It is honestly one of my all time favourite manga series, it just has so much heart.

Ruby Finds A Worry

aka Ruby’s Worry apparently? I can’t figure out why this has more than one title. I actually read it in French not English, so for me it was Le Souci de Calie. Regardless, this was a nice little picture book for talking about worries and anxieties with children… especially with the amount of Covid stress a lot of kids are dealing with. It explains in a really nice way how talking about anxieties are often the best way to make them more manageable, and how pretending nothing is wrong can just let it grow bigger and bigger. A good explanation for kids and possible a good reminder for adults.

War of the Realms: Journey Into Mystery

I read this because the Mcelroy family wrote it so I figured Hey! Why not give it a go! And I’m glad I did. Their brand of humour was all over it, and it made the story a delight to read. I don’t follow all of Marvel’s weirdness, so I didn’t actually know most of the characters (Miles and Kate were actually the only two I was familiar with) but they do a great job of introducing the characters and making them all feel distinct and interesting. I absolutely adore the Dog of Gods (God of Dogs) who is a very very good boy. And Miles is absolutely always a delight so you can’t really lose. It’s a single book that I think is a part of a larger plotline that I have zero interest in. This book is a fine one to read though if you don’t mind jumping into the middle of the action and just getting swept along for the ride. Also Mcelroys!

Witcher Omnibus

Bleh. Absolutely not worth it. All the misogyny and Dumb Bullshit that I hate in the original books and from video games in general. Honestly, Witcher III did way better by its characters than most of these short stories. The only one worth reading in it is Curse Of Crows – that one was actually really enjoyable, probably because it was about Ciri and had an actual fucking woman on the writing team. (Seriously guys what were you thinking with Fox Children that’s literally just a story from Season of Storms but done worse. Fuck off.) If you like The Witcher, go read Curse of Crows and skip every other story in this book.

Billy Stuart: Les Zintrépides #1

Another French (Quebecois) book I read, though I believe you can get it in English as well (Billy Stuart and the Zintrepids). It’s a chapter book / graphic novel hybrid, and was honestly a fairly fun little read. It’s in a similar vein to Geronimo Stilton but done much better in my opinion. The humour was funnier, the characters felt less like caricatures, and while it still used stylized fonts it was also less intrusive and eye-strainy than the Stilton books. Also when the story suddenly pivots into the main adventure and mystery of the series? Fantastic. Was not expecting a hell-beast to appear part way through the story. Very interested in reading more.

Over all, it was cute and funny, and I can see it being a good next step when children have read their fill of the Stilton series and want something similar but possibly a bit more involved and coherent.

[qlistening]

Happy Pandemic-iversary

What’s up ladies. It’s around the pandemic-iversary and as you all know, I have appointed myself as head of commenting on shit that has happened during the pandemic and it’s time for a quarterly update. 

If I had to guess, each and every one of you has gone one of two routes since the beginning of last year.

Route 1: Realizing that everything inherently cool and fun would be cancelled and quickly deciding that some factor like your mental health or the quality of your college experience was more important than the social/public health consequences of partying during the pandemic. If you’re feeling attacked right now, worry not party girl. That is not my intention. I myself am a founding member of the “anything to feel something” club and a staunch believer that if you don’t take care of yourself, no one else will. 

Odds are that if you are in this group, you’re a wee bit entitled and/or your mental health is held together by a very thin thread. Taking away your regularly scheduled social interactions may have unboxed some demons that you would really like to tuck back in. I’m talking depression, anxiety, substance abuse, insecurity, issues with loneliness, etc.  You either used partying to slam the lid shut on that box, or like me, pulled out your demons, worked on them a little, and boxed them back up with more partying when you were over it. 

That’s growth baby! Nothing monumental, but you laid more groundwork for making it through your twenties than you would have otherwise AND you’re in a great position to reenter society when all this is over. Sure you were probably “on the wrong side of history”, but as long as you didn’t kill anyone, you will probably be able to live with yourself.

Route 2: The CDC said jump and you said “how high?”. These are my rule-following girly pops. My caring and empathetic girly pops. And of course, my girly pops who had inescapably valid reasons to avoid the rone at all costs. 

Your year has probably consisted of a mix of being infinitely proud of yourself for doing the right thing, infinitely frustrated with those who did not, and infinitely in denial about how much it sucked. You knew that the second you admitted to yourself that all of the whipped coffee, brisk walks, and zoom happy hours in the world were not going to be enough to keep you happy, you would fall into an inescapable cycle of depression that you had no hope of climbing out of in your isolated state. So you made up bullshit tasks to keep yourself occupied for an entire year.

You are a fucking hero for that, BUT your transition back into real life is not going to be easy. All of those little tasks that you invented have started to feel like legitimate priorities that you are having trouble distinguishing from your real responsibilities. You have to be prepared to let all of that deep cleaning and gourmet cooking go in exchange for going out to bars and showering more than twice a week. And just a tip from the pandemic party girl; socializing is not going to be fun and easy or any more stimulating than those made up tasks at first. But humans are social animals and you need to get in touch with whatever aspect of going out that you used to love so dearly. Whether that was making new friends, relentlessly pursuing some dick, showing off your cute outfits, sweaty dancing, or just getting fucked up, there was a reason you did this shit every weekend and you need to acknowledge it in order to connect with your former self.

Now that I have lumped you into these two different groups, it’s time to talk about the middle of the venn diagram: depression. Whether you hid from that shit at home or at He’s Not, odds are it caught up to you eventually. It was easy to predict that removing the majority of stimulation and fulfillment from life and throwing around the term “uncertain times” for a year would create a sub-pandemic of depressed ass bitches. 

I saw it coming from day one, but that only made it worse. Feeling your motivation and ability to find any means of generating serotonin slip away from you is a feeling I wouldn’t wish on anyone, yet have seen in almost everyone. I thought that seeing this shit coming would protect me from it and I was wrong. When it hit, I was consumed by the same sense of self loathing you feel when a boy fucks you over and you saw it coming, but didn’t have the strength to resist. 

Self loathing and emptiness are some raw fucking feelings and I hope to God that, at the very least, our shared experiences with these emotions has cultivated a broader sense of empathy in our cut-throat society. So far, that hunch has played out in the polls.

Empathy or no empathy, these feelings are still pervasive throughout the world and I’ll be damned if a single bitch with a marketing job was going to miss their chance to capitalize on this. With that, we have the birth of “wellness”. That world is honestly a trigger for me at this point because I, like many of you, was fooled into thinking it would be the antidote to depression. But what it really is is a well played scheme to sell things to people who are down bad and desperate to regain control over their health and well being. Believe me, I understand that this is a natural byproduct of capitalism, but there is something really insidious about an industry with marketing tactics that prey on people’s fear that something is wrong with them and offer them bullshit solutions to fix it.

Reading that back, I realize that is pretty much the textbook definition of marketing, but I’m standing by the fact that it is fucked up. Sorry if that offends anyone.

For all of you ladies who have been dropping bricks on supplements, jade rollers, and overpriced subscriptions to meditation apps, I am here to offer you a reality check. You do not need that shit. Don’t believe me? You don’t have to! Men are living proof that I am right. Most have never taken a vitamin, stretched, meditated, or eaten a vegetable besides corn and are literally fine.

If you want to partake in the wellness trend, fine, but don’t let that shit throw you into a state of body hyper-awareness where you manifest health problems just from worrying about them. Don’t reward the companies who did this to you with your money. And PLEASE do not pass up on the opportunity to do normal twenty-something fuck shit that would actually make you feel better for the sake of your made up health needs. 

Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk. There is plenty more to comment on, but I have to go outside and smoke my half cigarette before it starts to rain. See y’all next time I am bored enough to write one of these.

[venti-venting-double-shot]

So, when I first took this picture – September 2014 – it was with the intent of mimicking “picking herbs in Skyrim.” It was a photograph taken in a New Orleans graveyard, or something nearby anyway, and my friend (who we’ll call EC) was enthusiastically flitting about like a pastel gothic fairy of Catholicism. Laying on graves and stuff like a real life Manic Pixie Dream Girl.

 We took selfies, and photos of one another, and artsy photos of graves, and somehow this shot was my favorite because it made me think of a video game.

 It took my mind off of how, weeks prior, I’d had an abortion.

Here’s the thing about that: it wasn’t really the abortion itself that messed me up, mentally speaking. It was the fact I’d gotten pregnant in the first place, and the fact that between the beginning of pregnancy side effects and the end of abortion side effects, I felt like complete shit for about six months.

 I don’t know if that’s really normal; it’s probably not, and probably related to the probable endometriosis I probably got from my mom. (Probably.) I don’t always mess around with self diagnosis, but when I do, it’s usually because of a combination of family history and me expressing the exact same symptoms that family member either did or currently does express.

 My reasons for having the abortion are pretty simple: I was poor as shit (I still am), I had terrible physical and mental health, I had no idea if I’d have a miscarriage (out of 3 or 4 pregnancies my mom had, only I came to term), if I’d die in childbirth from related complications and/or commit suicide from poor mental health stressed by hormones and, well, stress, and…

 … ultimately, I just didn’t want to have a kid. It’s not that I hate children, really. I think they’re perfectly acceptable in small doses when they’re not throwing tantrums. (Even if I did hate kids, I would never actively let a child know that I hated them, because that’s just being a dick.) I’m not opposed to adopting later in life, and I’m not terribly opposed to the idea of donating my eggs to someone who really wants my DNA (for some reason).

 But, like… I don’t really want one of my own. I just … don’t.

 The abortion itself was pretty straightforward. I wasn’t far enough along that I couldn’t just take a pill and be done with it; my state makes you do a dumb 24 hour period after watching a bunch of videos and having a consultation, and a bunch of stuff I don’t really recall; apparently, because I have a negative blood type, I needed a special shot, in case I got pregnant again in the future. Something about potentially hemorrhaging and dying, which, excuse me, what? Hello, yet another reason not to ever get pregnant again.

 The doctors were really nice, and I didn’t have anybody picketing or giving me death threats or hate mail; I kept it private, because I’m a private person, so nobody but like 3 people even knew enough to send me hate mail in the first place. The guy who’d knocked me up was sweet and went with be both times, and supported me throughout the … shall we say, ordeal that followed. Honestly, it was kind of surreal in that it wasn’t at all dramatic.

 … and then the actual medication was taken, and I suddenly understood what Hell must be like. It’s my understanding that it’s kind of based off of what your period feels like; take that, and multiply it by, like, ten, and that’s how much pain you’ll be in, how much blood you’ll lose, so on and so forth. All your usual symptoms, but extra.

For some people, I guess that’s bearable, but for me, ahaha, no. It was a solid week – during which I still had to work, mind you, because I had bills to pay – that I wanted to stab myself until I bled out and died. I was taking maximum strength pain killers, to the point where I was walking around basically high out of my mind, and it still hurt.

 It still hurt so bad. And I was losing enough blood that I seriously considered going to the emergency room, but like – money. So I didn’t. And I survived. (To anyone reading this: don’t be me. Go to the emergency room and don’t risk death. Don’t be stupid.)

 For months after the abortion, I would get so stressed out if my period was at all late that I would make myself physically ill. 1) that’s ridiculous, and 2) I have irregular periods anyway, so it’s even more ridiculous. The mere thought of getting pregnant again (and having to go through Actual Hell On Earth again) absolutely TERRIFIED me. Even if I hadn’t had sex for, like, two months – I would still panic.

 The very thought of having what was essentially a parasite in my body, consuming my resources, turning me into something I just wasn’t… honestly, that fucked me up a lot. It changed me, fundamentally, as a person, albeit in subtle ways.

 So, basically, after a while of that, I knew I had to do something.

 It took a really, really long time to find someone who took me seriously. Most people chalked it up to trauma, said I was too young to make that decision (though not too young to decide to have a child), and a bunch of the same bullshit we’re all used to hearing.

 Seriously, the pro-life mentality is just … so ridiculously pervasive. The thought that a woman who doesn’t serve her purpose as a baby factory is just so WRONG to these people, and I cannot for the life of me understand why they put the life and wellbeing of something that isn’t even a valid human being until WEEKS into a pregnancy … over a person who has had several years to grow and flourish already.

 “That child could be the savior of humanity!”

 Yeah.

 The mother could also be the savior of humanity, but nah, we’re just going to shoulder her with a responsibility she doesn’t actually need to shoulder, and potentially kill her … for the sake of someone that doesn’t even exist yet.

 Sure, we’ll call that Pro Life.

 But honestly, I’m not going to convince anyone with a rant on tumblr. They already haven’t been convinced by the absolutely devastating stories of women’s lives who were lost, of instances where the mother and the child both died, of instances where a child was born lifeless for no purpose other than someone else denying another person their basic rights.

 A dead body has more rights over their organs than some women do over their wombs. You don’t want to donate your organs, even if it’ll save lives? Not a problem. We legally cannot force you to. You don’t want to donate your womb?

 Well, that’s just unacceptable. How dare you.

 For the record, EC, being Catholic, was the most supportive person I had in my life at the time, because she understands that Pro Life =/= Pro Birth. But … I was lucky to have supportive parents – I could not have afforded it otherwise – and a supportive guy that could have been a dad. He wanted kids eventually.

 But he understood what it meant to me.

 Finally, after months of looking, I found someone who actually listened to me, respected me, and agreed to do the ~controversial~ procedure on me. (Tubal ligation.) I was 23 years old. It was January, just days after the new year, and I again had work shortly afterward despite it being an atrocious idea.

 Yes. Work after surgery. I am a brilliant human being.

 Do not the things I do, for they are unwise and completely self-destructively moronic.

 Oh, and I was accidentally given a double dose of valium, so that was one hell of a trip. Hardly life threatening (I think), but an interesting experience nonetheless. When I woke up, I think I made it three steps before vomiting (much to the amusement of my ride home), and the next few days were a blur of reality-warping bullshit. I refused to take the Vicodin they had given me, because my family has a history of addiction, and every few seconds I felt like I was entering another dimension.

 Honestly, I don’t know how I didn’t get myself killed. I drove under those conditions. What the fuck, past me? You stupid mother fucker.

 Anyway, there you go, there’s proof that you can in fact get a tubal ligation under 25, despite having no kids. I wasn’t forced to go to therapy, I wasn’t screamed at or abused, and not once have I ever been told that I’m a whore or selfish or a terrible human being; I kind of wish I had been, because after hearing all the horror stories, I saved up some serious comebacks. I never got to use them.

 (By the way, about six months after the tubal ligation, I finally stopped having panic attacks every single late period. There has only been one Bad incident, and that was when my period was late by, like, two weeks. At that point, I was more concerned I was going to have a medical emergency on my hands, so of course I panicked, but… it was easier to calm down from, if that makes sense, because I knew that they’d HAVE to operate, that I wouldn’t get pregnant again, this whole list of things I kept telling myself over and over again until my period finally came and all was well.) 

Anyway, if you don’t think Skyrim is a good game, you can fucking fight me. 

[mick66d]

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Christopher Seaton

Attorney. Mediator. See http://mediationisdead.com

Dec 10, 2017

Enough with the #MeToo Bullshit

I’ve kept silent over the scalp fest that is the #MeToo debacle for a good bit of time. One reason is I get my perspective will largely be ignored by a good swath of people who will say “Oh, look at the cishet white male shitlord” and move on. We’re in a society where your patents of oppression* matter more than rational thought.

Another reason I’ve kept quiet is the people who’ve screamed the loudest simply couldn’t be bothered to know better. It’s far easier for those in the media, politics, or the corporate world to put feelings before actual rational thought.

Now things have taken a different turn and the virus has infested the legal profession. People who should know better, who swore an oath to uphold the law, are jumping on the bandwagon of “OMG Someone Did Something BURN THE HERETIC!”

This must end now. Speaking from the legal perspective, the #MeToo movement is wrongheaded, completely dishonest, and has backfired in ways its woke disciples couldn’t have expected. Here’s why it must end now.

It lumps every act into the now nefarious “Sexual Impropriety.”

When the #MeToo bandwagon started, “sexual impropriety” or “sexual misconduct” were the linguistic kill shots** ending careers. These weren’t specific terms, though. They described everything from rape to inadvertently putting a hand on someone’s bare back.

In the legal world, words mean things. Law has specific definitions for various sexual offenses. If those definitions are abandoned for a grouped term of “sexual misconduct,” then we abandon the law entirely.

The better course of action is to take a deep breath, ask “What specifically happened?” and then apply the appropriate response. If someone stands accused of rape, then the matter should be handled by the legal system.

On the other hand, if someone touched you and you froze up because it was unwelcome, then it’s perfectly fine for you to share your story and people to express their empathy. Then you move on.

Let’s unpack the offenses from the “sexual misconduct” umbrella so we can respond in the best fashion possible.

2. #MeToo doesn’t have due process for the accused.

In all criminal prosecutions, the accused shall enjoy the right to a speedy and public trial, by an impartial jury of the state and district wherein the crime shall have been committed, which district shall have been previously ascertained by law, and to be informed of the nature and cause of the accusation; to be confronted with the witnesses against him; to have compulsory process for obtaining witnesses in his favor, and to have the assistance of counsel for his defense. — Sixth Amendment to the U.S. Constitution

One of the worst aspects of the #MeToo virus is that there is no recourse for the accused. Once someone comes forward with an accusation, the Court of Public Opinion deems the accused guilty without as much as a second thought.

This sort of bullshit is why we have a system set in place in arguably the greatest governing document created by man. It allows for people to make an accusation, for the accused’s fate to be decided impartially, and for the two to face each other in court.

“But it’s so difficult for these women to come forward and be believed!” you shriek. Yes, even over the internet, I can hear your complaints. If it’s so difficult, why is the avalanche of complaints so large? Why are these terrified women Time’s “Person of the Year?”

It is intellectually dishonest and completely out of touch with reality to suggest women cannot come forward on their own accord and raise a complaint against someone. Furthermore, suggesting the act is “difficult” for women is an insult to the entire gender. It claims women can’t be brave enough or possess their own ability to speak out if someone wrongs them.

3. The “Everyone Knew About It” Complication Is Pervasive

When Harvey Weinstein’s misdeeds first surfaced, people called it the “worst kept secret in Hollywood.” Kevin Spacey’s actions are no different. The “Everyone Knew About It Complication” even goes as far as Capitol Hill.

I call this the “Everyone Knew About It Complication” because it’s an extension of the #MeToo virus that complicates a story even further. Just as an actual virus can suddenly evolve into a new strain, once the “Everyone Knew About It Complication” comes up it infects the allegations even more.

Now the revelations are more damning. It suggests a pervasive, regular pattern of behavior. The complication means that people either turned their heads or actively covered it up.

If “everyone knew” about someone’s bad behavior, why did it take so long for someone to come forward? Why did no one point this out sooner? If someone covered up or turned a blind eye to horrendous sexual impropriety, what were their motivations?

Once the “everyone knew” morphs the allegations against the accused, it casts a worse light on everyone involved.

4. People Are Okay With Innocent Lives Being Ruined Over #MeToo

Emily Lindin, founder of the “UnSlut” project and occasional columnist for Teen Vogue, made her view on #MeToo perfectly clear last month in a twitstorm. She’s fine with it being used as a weapon against innocent men.

“Sorry. If some innocent men’s reputations have to take a hit in the process of undoing the patriarchy, that is a price I am absolutely willing to pay.” — Emily Lindin, November 21, 2017

What started as a means for people to share their stories of sexual abuse in and out of the workplace is now a weapon to rob blameless men of their livelihoods. And the numbers show people are perfectly fine with this.

If you take a look at the above quoted twit (you’ll have to use this link since Lindin’s twits are now protected) you’ll see it got 49 likes and 63 retweets. Simple math shows there’s arguably 112 people out there who share Lindin’s view.

This is terrifying. If this view is publicly held by that number of people, how many are quietly nodding their heads at Lindin’s viewpoint? The #MeToo movement is now a dual front: let “victims” tell their stories and destroy the lives of the innocent in the process.

If it gets rid of that damned “toxic masculinity,” so what?

5. It Didn’t Work Before, And It’s Not Going To Work This Time.

Social media rendered the attention span and memory of the public to that of a gnat’s, which is why people are forgetting this happened on college campuses a few years ago and didn’t work.

Here’s a couple of names for you that might have faded from memory. Emma Sulkowicz. “Jackie” from UVA. Two women who accused men of rape, and both turned out to have fabricated the accusations.

Sulkowicz couldn’t take it when the police and her university’s Title IX kangaroo court wouldn’t punish her target, so she started carrying around her dorm room mattress in an attempt to publicly humiliate the accused all over campus. Her fabrication earned her an invitation to the State of the Union address. Columbia University would eventually settle with the young man Sulkowicz tried to destroy, but not before he became a campus pariah.

“Jackie” from UVA was the subject of a Rolling Stone article that was deemed the “worst journalistic failure” of that year. Jackie made up so many details of her alleged rape that Rolling Stone had to pay damages to a UVA dean named in the story after a defamation suit.

Last Month, Daily Beast editor Erin Ryan had a shocking moment of clarity over the #MeToo movement. If one accusation turned up false, it could destroy the entire avalanche in one fell swoop.

That’s why Weinstein fallout could go up in smoke in a second. Because enough people believe that women are all liars, that one liar will fuck it up for all of us. — Erin Ryan (emphasis mine)

To quote noted legal scholar James E. Cornette, “Well, wouldn’t you know who won the pony.”

At the heart of #MeToo is the recycled statement “No matter what, you must listen and believe.” This was the rallying cry for Sulkowicz and Jackie, and fell apart once Jackie’s story was found to have more holes in it than Swiss cheese.

It still kept up after Jackie’s story imploded. Zerlina Maxwell wrote an op-ed in the fallout for the Washington Post that was originally titled “No matter what Jackie said, we should always believe rape claims.” That title changed in spectacularly quick fashion to “we should generally believe rape claims,” but the point is the same. Listen and believe or you’re a rape apologist.

#MeToo is the “Listen and Believe” for the “tl;dr” generation. When the stories are questioned, and start to fall apart, #MeToo will suffer the same fate as “Listen and Believe.”

While many people have come forward with stories of horrendous behavior, and the allegedly guilty suitably punished, the #MeToo hysteria has reached epidemic proportions. When the next allegations surface, do yourself a favor.

Instead of immediately calling for someone’s head, take a deep breath. Ask questions. Wait a day to see if the story changes. And don’t lose your ever loving mind over it.

We’re better than this.

*Credit for this term goes to David Smalley of “Dogma Debate”

**Term coined by Dilbert creator and trained hypnotist Scott Adams