#i love you oppressed and downtrodden people of the world

[wolf-tail]

you fight hate with love you fight hate with love you fight hate with love you fight hate with love you fight hate with love you fight hate with love you fight hate with love you fight hate with love you fight hate with love you fight hate with love

[fists clenched with uncalculable amount rage]

[justcallmecappy]

The Andersmance as a narrative of hope

One thing I've noticed while in the Dragon Age fandom is the prevalent interpretation of the Anders romance as a tragedy, or a romance that's inherently tragic. Anders acts behind Hawke's back, destroys the Kirkwall Chantry no matter what choices the player makes, the player sees this as a huge betrayal, and — despite having romanced Anders, and/or being mage-sympathetic — they decide to execute or banish Anders as punishment for his 'crime'. Tears are shed; it's all dramatic and tragic and angsty.

While I sometimes appreciate tragedies, I would like to posit a different perspective: The romance with Anders is a story of hope; a story of standing up to insurmountable odds and overcoming them. The romance with Anders can be approached as one with a happier ending, where Hawke and Anders are the heroes.

Before I elaborate, a disclaimer: These are my own opinions. I understand some players prefer the Andersmance as a tragic romance, and to each player their own. I am not here to dictate the choices you should make in-game or how you approach your playthroughs, merely to present a different perspective to one I've seen very often.

Also, this post is critical of the rivalmance with Anders — more on that later.

The Andersmance as a narrative of hope relies on two perspectives:

Firstly, the Chantry is an authoritarian institution who are the antagonistic force that the heroes need to oppose and take down. There is plenty of meta that explores and supports this.

Secondly, Anders is a heroic character:

He is a healer who set up a clinic providing free healthcare for the marginalized and downtrodden people of Kirkwall who otherwise have gone overlooked by their own Chantry.

He let a Spirit of Justice into his body, simply to help Justice continue to exist in the physical world when he would have otherwise disappeared into the Fade.

He regularly risks his safety and security by helping mages escape abuse in the Gallows and have a chance at freedom via the Mage Underground.

These are all acts of someone who is kind and compassionate, and, yes, heroic.

He is not a villain who needs to be stopped. He is the hero of the story who needs help and support as he challenges systematic oppression. He's Katniss Everdeen standing up to the Capitol; he's Luke Skywalker opposing the Galactic Empire.

Hawke is that supportive pillar, that safe harbor, that source of unconditional love for Anders in his times of struggle. "The one bright light in Kirkwall" who stands by Anders' side as they face insurmountable odds together.

In World States where Leliana becomes Divine Victoria, this means Hawke and Anders' struggles were not in vain. Through their actions, they sparked a series of events that culminated in the abolition of the Circles.

Anders' prophetic speech about how, "Ten years, a hundred years from now, someone like me will love someone like you, and there will be no Templars to tear them apart" carries so much more weight, because loving Hawke gave him hope for a better future that Anders actually gets to witness in his lifetime.

Do you know how powerful such a love story is?

Their love literally changed the world for the better.

They loved each other, that love gave them courage, and now future generations of mages are free to find a love as strong and precious as the one Hawke and Anders share.

Of course, the condition of this is that Hawke loves and supports Anders wholeheartedly, meaning that this obviously takes the Friendship route for the romance. The rivalmance where Hawke downplays Anders' struggles, breaks Anders' spirit, undermines Anders' confidence, and tries to convince Anders that his cause is needless has no part in this narrative of hope; in fact, I would go so far to say that Hawke is the villain in that version of the story.

Personally, stories of hope have always strongly resonated with me. I gravitate towards stories where our protagonists are presented with challenging obstacles (whether they be internal, external, or both), and things may seem bleak at first, but they bravely carry on, and by the end of the story the characters have made themselves better people, and/or made the world a better place.

Anders and Hawke had many chances to turn away and ignore the plight of mages and just get their own happy ending, but they didn't — they carried on, because they were the heroes, and they knew all mages deserved to be free as they were.

[animebw]

I've been struggling to figure out how to write this post for the past couple weeks. Part of me thinks I shouldn't bother writing it at all. Not like my words will accomplish much in the grand scheme of things. But if I don't say anything, these thoughts will just keep gnawing at my mind like caged animals. And as the chaos in Palestine shows no signs of slowing, I need to get this out before it's too late for my words to do anything but cast regretful looks back at a moment I was too cowardly to add my voice to.

So.

Most of you don't know this, but I'm Jewish. Not incredibly so; my dad's side of the family is full of active temple-goers and worshippers, but I've mostly just tagged along for holidays and bar mitzvahs. It's a part of myself I used not to think that much about, just one aspect of my life among many. But in recent years as right-wing anti-semitism has ramped up, I've begun appreciating my Jewish connections more and more. Judaism may not be a religion I follow, but it's been an integral part of my culture and community over the years. It's the connections I share with my extended family who I usually only see a couple times a year on Passover and Hannukah but nevertheless tie us together unshakably. Being Jewish is an indelible part of me, and I've always wanted to make a more active effort in connecting with and exploring that part of my heritage. There was even a time back in college where I was tentatively planning a birthright trip to Israel to connect with my ancestral roots or whatever. Classic post-graduation travel abroad stuff.

It feels really weird to think back on that now.

I've never read much of the Torah, I admit. Not like I could, since I never learned Hebrew. But everything I've picked up about Judaism over the years has overwhelmingly painted it as a call for compassion, kindness, and community. Yes, the world can be cruel, it says, which is why we must add light to the darkness wherever we can. Celebrate the freedoms we've won. Cherish the bonds we've forged. Weep even for those who've wronged us as they suffered in turn from God's judgement. Judaism, to me, has always been about how absolutely essential it is to choose love over bitterness and hatred. It is our responsibility to cultivate a kinder, better world, so those who come after us need not suffer the same ills as us. It's been a comfort in many rocky periods of my life.

And it is with that perspective that I say unequivocally: what Israel's government is doing to Palestine is indefensible. Bombing hospitals, dropping chemical weapons, denying critical aid to innocent civilians trapped in the barrage, even bombing safe routes they themselves told Palestinians to take. Displacing people from their homes, their lives, their dignity with no regard for their basic humanity. Speaking with increasingly dangerous rhetoric with a desire to wipe the entire population off the face of the map. Never mind the decades upon decades of abuse that Palestine has already suffered under Israeli occupation, second-class apartheid citizens in their own homeland. There is no excuse on the face of the planet that can justify this cruelty and carnage.

Yes, Hamas are bloodthirsty terrorists themselves, and there can be no peace until they are brought to justice. But Israel's actions in response to the October 7 attacks have long crossed the boundaries of justified retaliation. What Bibi Netanyahu and his far-right government are enacting upon Gaza is exactly the same breed of genocide that has been enacted upon Jews across the world throughout history. From our subjugation in Egypt through the Holocaust, we know all too well how it feels to face this evil, see it rip through our communities as it seeks to tear apart the fabric of our very personhood. So to see the craven extremists in Israel's government invoke those horrors in an attempt to justify subjecting another downtrodden, oppressed people to the same fate... I don't think I can properly describe how angry it makes me.

Netenyahu and his government do not speak for all Jews. Hell, according to recent polls, they don't even speak for most Israelis anymore. They do not get to claim Judaism for their own murderous purposes. They do not get to use my voice as justification for their war crimes. They betray the soul of this culture with every hospital they blow to bits and every scrap of aid they deny the suffering children next door. And I refuse to be silent in face of their propaganda. I refuse to let this culture, which has been nothing but a source of kindness and community to me, to be weaponized to excuse the same monstrosities we celebrate rising above every year. I refuse to accept their definition of Judaism as long as I have breath to speak against it.

Palestine deserves freedom. Palestine deserves self-autonomy. Palestine deserves the same kindness that Judaism preaches to all downtrodden people of the world. And Israel must stop this senseless slaughter before their history of surviving the world's horrors ends with them becoming the horror in someone else's scripture. Find and destroy Hamas without punishing the people of Gaza- over half of whom weren't even born when Hamas came to power- for their crimes. Work toward a two-state solution where Jews and Arabs, Israelis and Palestinians, can live side by side in solidarity of the trials they've both overcome. Remember compassion in a world that venerates blind hatred. Remember the kindness we claim rises above all attempts to squash it down. Remember that the heart of Judaism is supporting those who struggle through darkness, helping them find their way out into the light.

Remember who we claim to be.

And refuse to let us be defined by death.

#FreePalestine

[girlreviews]

Review #438: Parklife, Blur

In some ways this review is going to be like the antithesis to the one I wrote for Pulp’s Different Class. In that, this album features songs that are so important to British culture, and individually to my formative years, that I can’t ever be mad to hear them. However, unlike my ongoing and steadfast admiration for Pulp as a band, I have way more complicated feelings about Blur, and about this album in particular. Okay, so some context and education first. Blur had success in the UK with their debut album, Leisure, but had really dug themselves into a financial hole through poor management. They owed the taxman a lot of money. As such, they were essentially forced to go on a long, arduous tour of the US to promote their successful album. In theory this would be great. But it wasn’t great. They were touring tiny towns and venues that had never heard of them. The grunge scene had just exploded out of the Pacific Northwest and literally nobody Stateside had any fucks to give about Blur, British Music, or what they were doing on this tour. The band themselves have described the space and time immediately preceding the creation of Parklife as pretty bleak. Miserable. Oppressive. They felt backed into a corner, exhausted, downtrodden, underappreciated, and homesick.

Where they sort of lose me on this is where they express feeling as if they were shamed for being British and they were resistant to just create a record that adhered to the current trend of music. They returned to the UK with a concept in mind: a quintessentially British album, about British culture, that makes a statement: British music is a thing of its own, and it’s worth your time. I mean, I don’t disagree with that. I just fail to see how grunge being a popular genre at the time meant that they weren’t able to be proudly British, and proudly produce whatever music suited them. Artists make art for the art, and if someone likes it, that’s great. But they were young men at the time and I imagine egos and the lures of chart success influenced their feelings about it. You don’t get into a tabloid frenzied ongoing rift with the Gallagher brothers because you’re a really chill bunch of guys that only care about the music. There’s an irritating overtone of testosterone and national pride that has an icky vibe to it. It’s too easy for it to be co-opted. And it was! And it still is!

So let me just get the following points off my chest and then I’ll work my way through them:

1. Parklife is and was an important record in British music

2. It’s also not Blur’s strongest album by a BIG margin, but it’s managed to persist as somewhat of a defining album for them. I’m glad they shook it off, and we didn’t just get record after record of Parklife from them. That’s honestly how a lot of people would have done it and I can respect their commitment to art as a band: we’re going to do something different than what you just loved, and if you don’t like it that’s a you problem. People did like it.

3. Parklife also paved the way for an obnoxious marketing/PR ploy from the music industry surrounding British Indie/Rock artists, that created a ridiculous craze and wave that was surfed by bands ranging from incredible and deserving, to absolute dogshit. Ladies and gentleman, I give you: Britpop. If you were there you know what it was like, and you understand all the nuance and resentment surrounding it as a “genre”. We’ll get into this more later. In hindsight it all worked out okay and we live in a world where – at least to my knowledge – you can appreciate and criticize both Oasis and Blur for their talents and their fuck ups without it representing some massive class and cultural divide. This was absolutely not always the case and it was, for some reason, a really big deal, and it mattered to everyone, a lot. Blur or Oasis? I was 7 turning 8 years old at the height of this manufactured-turned-real rivalry, and it genuinely caused me stress. As a child! I loved them both. But I felt forced to choose. I chose Blur. I understand how ridiculous it sounds, but I wish I could go back in time and refuse to choose. It mattered, and it also really didn’t. They don’t sound similar enough to compare or compete? So why did we have to? But WE DID. It was on the news. It was the biggest thing going on at the time. It dominated the papers. Bookies were taking bets on who would be #1 between the two of them. Blur won that battle with Country House. I don’t think anybody won the war. I think everybody got bored, gave up, and went home.

So Blur kicked off Britpop with their return from this grinding US tour and they made a full blown concept album about being British. And it was good. But all of a sudden there was just this… Overwhelming influx of bands who were banking their success solely on this “being British”, thing. It had a look, it had a sound, it had a style, it had a location. The same thing happened with the Indie wave in the early/mid-2000s. It’s so annoying to me though. You end up just having to sift through a whole bunch of fucking garbage to find the stuff that is legit, and would be legit with or without the “scene”. Parklife is legit. It’s just responsible for the aftermath and onslaught of bullshit. Is that their fault? No, but they definitely participated in it all for a bit. There was a lot of great music that technically fell under the Britpop genre, but essentially looking back most of it isn’t Britpop – because that was just made up. It was just good music from various genres, and they all happened to be British artists. That’s not the same thing. It was just a music industry scheme and boy howdy did everyone buy-in.

The song Parklife, is pretty genius, still. Damon Albarn, unable to commit to the concept with a cockney accent, enlisted well-known British actor, Phil Daniels (of Quadrophenia fame) to deliver the lyrics. This was both creative and super novel. People went pretty nuts about it. They still do. It’s got the same pull as Common People. If you want to see an entire nation lose their shit over a song – you might stick on Parklife. It’s just deeply entrenched into the fabric of British culture and it’s as if it was from the moment it was released. It just is. I actually saw Parklife live at Reading Festival when I was 16 or 17, and they brought Phil Daniels out. The most memorable thing about the whole thing, was that Damon Albarn fell off the stage. I guess the most surprising thing about the wider record, is that you expect it to be more of Parklife the song. And it actually isn’t. It’s just a Blur record, and a not bad one at that.

It's just so weird how a regular album took on this entire life of its own, turned into a cultural phenomenon, and produced this era of music that for better or worse is part of history now. Some of the subsequent singles from subsequent albums honestly seem like they were more “Britpop” than a lot of the tracks on Parklife. Maybe they were running with it for sometime to bank on its success, but ultimately they grew tired of it too and changed directions. I’m glad.

I guess the other thing about Blur, is the individuals its made up of. They’ve been indie darlings forever. Graham Coxon was a nerdy little weirdo, he left and came back. I think Britpop almost killed him if I’m being honest. Damon Albarn was a pretty-faced front man and has gone on to produce some absolutely insane albums for other artists and with other bands. He’s got something, that’s for sure, but it’s not always good. Some ego and misogyny always sort of leaks out and it would make my life easier to enjoy his creative output if he just kept his mouth shut. He seems to have a problem playing nice with successful women and insists on tearing them down publicly, only to be forced to admit that he hasn’t actually worked with them, met them, talked to them, or even listened to the music that he is loudly criticizing. That’s fucking annoying, but, is also par for the course regarding male opinions being inexplicably important and accepted even absent of any actual valid perspective or input. Damon, you have a lot of great things to say with your music. That doesn’t mean you have to say something, about everything, all the time.

Alex James, floppy-haired and handsome bassist, for a time was the biggest darling of them all – attracting praise for being so quirky and unique by establishing a cheese farm. Over the years, I have come to suspect he’s really just hidden in plain sight and really what you get with him is a basic man, with basic opinions, who loves some attention. I can’t ever really quite put my finger on it with him but there’s something deeply off putting about his whole persona. I’ll just say it. Whatever image he puts out and however quirky and cool he makes himself out to be: he’s just a fucking Tory, man. With that comes everything else: classism, racism, misogyny and fucking over everyone worse off than you, so long as you get yours. But hey everyone, who cares right? He makes cheese! Isn’t that so weird and kooky? He’s gotta be a cool guy! It was this exact fucking line of thinking that allowed Boris Johnson to take advantage of the comedy panel show circuit for years and years and years, elevating his reputation among liberal young voters. Everyone thought Boris was a funny joke, so let’s vote for him! He goes from MP, to London Mayor, to high-ranking cabinet member, to the fucking PRIME MINISTER. And it wasn’t a funny joke then, was it? So let’s pay attention to the things people actually say and do, and not just the music that they make and the cheese they produce. The other guy in the band, whose name I can literally never remember – Dave Rowntree – he’s just the drummer, who brought nothing to the band visually, and was just sort of along for the ride. Seems like a nice enough guy, it’s just that nobody cares.

If you’re interested in making more sense of this review, I will recommend that you turn your attention to Netflix series This Is Pop which does a pretty decent overall rundown of Blur, Oasis, and the Britpop era. It’s not perfect, but it’s pretty good, and I appreciate that it gives a voice to the women in that music scene at the time, who were treated like shit and had to deal with all of the masculine national pride shit that came along with it all. It’s pretty clear from listening to them: Oasis, literally didn’t give a shit – about anything – and that was pretty hilarious. Blur, despite being genuine talent with good music to offer, bought into the hype and acted like a bunch of pricks publicly. They were all pricks, it’s just some of them were more authentically pricks than others. Ha.

I guess all I can say is this: I love Blur, and I hate Blur. I don’t know that I’m inclined to agree with Parklife’s inclusion in the Rolling Stone Top 500, but I can also appreciate that I’m talking from the inside and the majority of listeners didn’t also absorb the cultural moment as it was happening. If you happened to be there, you know it was all kind of nonsense. It’s kind of wild watching documentaries or reading write-ups of a particular time in music that you were actually present for in real-time. Like how I imagine people who were at Woodstock, or when Bob Dylan went electric, or the original British Invasion of America with the Beatles. It was a whole thing, and if you were there, you remember.

[demon-girl-izalith]

I think we should keep something in mind this Christmas/holiday season. As the Christian narrative floats around, the white swaddled newborn plastered on billboards, and the focus on what's "sacred" and "holy" circulating through churches around the western world...

The body being "sacred" has nothing to do with some fucked white European idea of chastity or purity. It has absolutely EVERYTHING to do with making sure people are able to feed themselves and their children, not be straight up poisoned by pollutants, or fetishized and exploited for profit. Holiness has nothing to do with being clean or looking your Sunday best.

It was never actually about "purity" or "virginity" or "cleanliness". If it was, why the hell would Jesus have been crucified? The real historical dude said stuff that pissed off people in power so much they fucking merked him. Nothing pisses off agrarian feudal lords or modern capitalists more than telling the masses that they aren't simply morally justified, but on the side of GOD when they steal medicine and food for their children. If you don't believe me, I highly recommend reading William Herzog's "Parables as subversive speech", read about what theologians actually think historical Jesus was talking about all those years ago. Whether you believe in God or not, think religion is a plague or pray a rosary every night, I think keeping this in mind is like super important.

Christianity becomes dangerous and, in the opinion of this demon girl, blasphemous when it is removed from the context of its social cause, when it's co-opted by those in power and disarmed of the radical rhetoric that it was born from originally. I think that's exactly what we see in broader society. I think that an entirely rational response to this is to equate all of Christianity or even all of religion with evil... But I think there's nuance here.

To be clear, I stand with the satanists who support the fight for separation in church and state by chastising the corrupt institutions who have become the opposite of what they claim to espouse. I stand with the atheists who keep the naive theologians in check, and offer peace to the people who have been ravaged by the monster modern Christianity is to so many. Don't stop doing what you're doing. If Jesus was standing here today he'd be standing with you. You're fighting modern day pherisees out here and I'm for it.

Now, this is not to say there aren't problematic things that were always present in the Christian religion, of course there are. And they're quite abundant. I think Christians need to be very aware of that as well. There's nuance there. What I'm calling for here is a realization that the religion of the oppressed is not the same as the religion of the oppressor, and that the religion of the oppressed, when not stripped of its merit and co-opted by systems of greed, can be a force for good. And when we use that lens to look at this bizarre spectacle we call "Christmas", we can learn some interesting stuff.

What I'm saying is, if you're trans, gay, whatever, for the love of God, literally, please LIVE. Listen to your friendly demon izalith. By existing as who you are, you are sacred. Don't let the people wearing robes and claiming to be on the sides of angels and "God" tell you who you can or can't love, or what you can or can't be. If there is a God out there, and he's with those punks, then he's no god. I spit on his name. Angels are overrated anyways... It's the demons, the poor person who steals from Walmart to feed themselves and their children, the prostitute who is proud of their job and the life they work hard to sustain, the fat trans person who goes to Christmas mass in goth makeup... It's those people who the religion was originally made for. It wasn't made for the rich, the white, the straight, the normative. It was made for us. For all those people who are downtrodden, cold this winter, unable to buy food, scared and tired. Fuck that shit they used to traumatize us and belittle us when growing up. It's all lies and venom anyways. If no one loves and accepts you, this demon will.

[pomegranateandhoney]

These are the versions of the Sheva Berakot we'll be using at our wedding. The explanations provided by the rabbi in this article are beautiful.

1. בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְ-יָ אֱלֹהֵ-ינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם, בּוֹרֵא פְּרִי הַגָּפֶן

May your branches cling to one another—wild and overflowing. I bless you with sweet fruits and luscious sanctity. 

2. בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְ-יָ אֱלֹהֵ-ינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם, שֶׁהַכֹּל בָּרָא לִכְבוֹדוֹ.

May you know one another fully and completely. May you come to learn and love each other’s light and darkness, each other’s blessings and shortcomings. May you help one another grow to better know yourselves, and may you live to be present with each other’s moments of peace and of pain. I bless you with finding and cultivating the places in each other where the entire universe—love and darkness, light and truth—can reside.

3. בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְ-יָ אֱלֹהֵ-ינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם, יוֹצֵר הָאָדָם.

I grant you the blessings of mystery and uncertainty. I bless you with the courage​ to ​not know—to love from the heart, not the head; to love even when you don’t know how; to love because you know no other way than this. I bless you with knowing one another better than yourself, and with knowing yourself through one another. I bless you with messiness and murkiness—with forgetting where one person stops and the other begins.

4. בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְ-יָ אֱלֹהֵ-ינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם, אֲשֶׁר יָצַר אֶת הָאָדָם בְּצַלְמוֹ, בְּצֶלֶם דְּמוּת תַּבְנִיתוֹ, וְהִתְקִין לוֹ מִמֶּנּוּ בִּנְיַן עֲדֵי עַד: בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְ-יָ, יוֹצֵר הָאָדָם

May your marriage and your lives be guided by holy justice and principled action. May you find in one another the strength and resiliency to work on behalf of the oppressed and the downtrodden. May you walk together along a path of mercy, graciousness and righteousness. I give you a world in need of healing, and bless you with the power to heal.

5. שׂוֹשׂ תָּשִׂישׂ וְתָגֵל הָעֲקָרָה, בְּקִבּוּץ בָּנֶיהָ לְתוֹכָהּ בְּשִׂמְחָה: בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְ-יָ, מְשַׂמֵּחַ צִיּוֹן בְּבָנֶיהָ.

May you sanctify my name through the lives you impact. May you spread a love for people of all nations and creeds, and may your deeds of kindness be as numerous as the stars of the heaven and the sands of the sea. I bless you with the ability to share the love you have for one another with any and every divine spark you encounter.

6. שַׂמַּח תְּשַׂמַּח רֵעִים הָאֲהוּבִים, כְּשַׂמֵּחֲךָ יְצִירְךָ בְּגַן עֵֽדֶן מִקֶּֽדֶם: בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְ-יָ, מְשַׂמֵּֽחַ חָתָן וְכַלָּה

May you know joy. May each other’s laughter be the question you spend your life trying to answer. May you serve to make life’s quakes gentler, and life’s shakes steadier, for one another. I bless you with a life of finding joy despite—or perhaps amidst—the trembles.

7. בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְ-יָ אֱלֹהֵ-ינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם, אֲשֶׁר בָּרָא שָׂשׂוֹן וְשִׂמְחָה, חָתָן וְכַלָּה, גִּילָה רִנָּה דִּיצָה וְחֶדְוָה, אַהֲבָה וְאַחֲוָה שָׁלוֹם וְרֵעוּת, מְהֵרָה יְ-יָ אֱלֹהֵ-ינוּ יִשָּׁמַע בְּעָרֵי יְהוּדָה וּבְחוּצוֹת יְרוּשָׁלָיִם, קוֹל שָׂשׂוֹן וְקוֹל שִׂמְחָה, קוֹל חָתָן וְקוֹל כַּלָּה, קוֹל מִצְהֲלוֹת חֲתָנִים מֵחֻפָּתָם, וּנְעָרִים מִמִּשְׁתֵּה נְגִינָתָם: בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְ-יָ, מְשַׂמֵּחַ חָתָן עִם הַכַּלָּה.

May you lead a life of sound and song. May you join together in songs of praise, songs of joy and songs of sorrow. May your voices provide comfort and solace, inspiration and ecstasy. May you find and create divinity in whispered “I love you’s” and in humble “I’m sorry’s.” I bless you with the capacity, and the lifelong desire, to hear each other’s calls.

[average-guy-reviews]

Matilda The Musical (2022)

"Matilda, an extraordinary girl armed with a sharp mind and a vivid imagination, dares to take a stand against her oppressive parents and head teacher to change her story with miraculous results."

In 1988 one of the greatest storytellers ever introduced the world to a young girl with “magical” powers. Roald Dahl put pen to paper and gave us the story of Matilda, a young girl who inspired a lot of people at the time, and who continues to do so to this day. I won’t give any specific spoilers here but I think the majority know that this is about good v evil, the battle between authority and those kept down by that authority. The overarching story hasn’t changed in 34 years. What has changed is the way it is told.

Tim Minchin and Christopher Nightingale took on the task to translate one of the most popular children’s books of all time into a stage musical. This can’t have been an easy task, trying to make it new while still doing justice to the characters. The stage show went onto to become a beloved favourite for a great many people. Eventually the time came that someone opted to bring this musical to the big screen, and this could have been a big mistake. Theatre shows work in the theatre for a reason, and not all of them transfer very well to cinema.

I’m very happy to say that this show seems to have survived the transition extremely successfully. It works brilliantly on screen, with fantastic music and slick choreography. The level of professionalism on screen from the dancers etc. is really quite impressive. Important note here......the majority of the cast, performers and singers, is children. They have a level of skill and talent that a lot of more mature people would kill to have.

The entire young cast is great, and the future of musical theatre is in good hands.  The films focuses on three main characters, but before I get to them I want to highlight two of the children specifically. Charlie Hodson, as Bruce Bogtrotter, and Meesha Garbett, as Hortensia, are simply magical and they lead the ensemble like they were born to it. They have, potentially, very bright futures ahead of them.

The three main characters are Matilda, Miss Honey and The Trunchbull. Emma Thompson, almost unrecognisable as the terror that is the hammer throwing headmistress of Crunchem Hall, is just fabulous. She exudes an aura of fear and hatred of children that radiates off the screen.....and yet there is one moment where we do see a slightly vulnerable side to her. Yes, she is imagining a world without children but the moment is still there. It is a great performance from one of my favourite actresses.

Lashana Lynch is the timid, and downtrodden, Miss Honey. Having most recently seen her in James Bond and Dr Strange this was a delightful change. From one extreme to another, she has gone from action roles to bringing to life a wonderful, warm, joy of a woman, and it is always a good thing to see the range an actor has. She inhabits each role, making them individual and a pleasure to watch. One thing I wasn’t aware of before this was just how well Lynch, and Thompson, could sing.  Lynch’s powerful vocals were firmly on show in the songs she sang, a heck of a voice. I’d love to see her in many more musical roles.

The main character is, of course, Matilda. Alisha Weir is a real star in the making. Matilda is an innocent girl, but she has a dark side when she is plotting, and carrying out, her revenges on those that have wronged her. One of my favourite things about this iteration of the character is the way Weir plays both sides with equally joy, and ability. The way she draws you in when she’s telling her story, and the way she almost makes you a co-conspirator is just awesome. If she keeps performing, in theatre or film, she has a long impressive future ahead of her.

Matthew Warchus, from the director’s chair, had the difficult job of making the stage show work on film. Whatever changes he had to make worked really well, and the film works seamlessly. The transitions from scene to scene, the choice of shots, and the performances he drew out of the actors, were all done with a skilled hand and an eye for detail of a person with a lot of talent and experience. I have nothing else to say other than, Bravo, Sir, for a job more than well done.

Overall this is brilliant, fun, storytelling that is aimed at a younger audience, with more than enough to keep adults entranced. Just to put this into perspective.....I am 45. I grw up loving, and being inspired by, the books of Roald Dahl. Watching this film brought back a flood of memories of the joy I felt when I was immersed in his worlds. This is getting a really well earned 9/10, with the highest of recommendations to go and sww it on the big screen before it hits streaming, if you can.

[septmilleneurones]

As an arospec trauma survivor, I have Thoughts about the discourse on “girlboss” Cinderella adaptations. I’ve always been upset by people saying “she’s so pathetic, she had to be rescued by someone else!” for reasons that have been thoroughly covered on here, but some of the objections about “girlbossy” adaptations are...a little amatonormative.

“Every adaptation these days is about her being a Strong, Independent Woman Who Doesn’t Need A Man!”

Let’s fact check this one. Cinderella roll call!

Disney animation (Ilene Woods, 1950): heartwarming romance with the prince; the stepfamily try to keep them apart but there are no complications in the relationship itself

Rodgers & Hammerstein version (Brandy, 1997): heartwarming romance with the prince; the stepfamily try to keep them apart but there are no complications in the relationship itself

Ever After (Drew Barrymore, 1998): she gets spicy with the prince, including overt commentary on how the rich oppress the poor, until he overcomes his privileged cluelessness

A Cinderella Story (Hilary Duff, 2004): she tells the prince she’s disappointed in him and dates him after he overcomes his privileged cluelessness

Disney live action remake (Lily James, 2015): heartwarming romance with the prince; the stepfamily try to keep them apart but there are no complications in the relationship itself

Amazon version (Camila Cabello, 2021): appears to be a major girlboss version, but a) Amazon is not known for handling stories respectfully (*cough* Lord of the Rings) and b) of COURSE one of the worst wealth thieves in the world is going to want as many people as possible to drink the “downtrodden people just need to HUSTLE more (by being the best at capitalism, not by unionising my warehouses)!” Kool-Aid. And according to Wikipedia, she still ends up in a happy romantic relationship with the prince at the end.

So there actually appears to be about a 50-50 split, and ALL of them ultimately depict a romantic relationship as the happy ending.

“The ‘girlboss’ versions don’t appreciate love!”

For starters, see my point above about how all of them end with a romantic relationship.

Secondly...was that really you guys’ takeaway from the Hilary Duff version? Rhonda is a surrogate mother to Sam (Cinderella) throughout the whole movie, giving her emotional support and advice and eventually letting Sam move in with her. Do you know how much I goofy smiled at the scene where they arrive at Rhonda’s place and Rhonda hugs Sam? That was a modern day Cosette and Jean Valjean. How can you say that version doesn’t respect love when there was such a beautiful found family relationship right there?

“The ‘girlboss’ versions are toxic positivity about abuse!”

Let’s be real, the "girlboss" versions and the traditional versions both engage with the topic of abuse like an employer saying “so how did you make yourself Marketable during that brief period when the government actually did something about covid?” Is it really that much fairer to say “this survivor deserved to be rescued because she was cheerful/kind” than it is to say “this survivor deserved to be rescued because she was feisty/got good grades”? Maybe you lot were able to be unfailingly uwu during and after the years of being treated like shit, but I sure as fuck wasn’t, and I still deserved better.

And I have yet to see a single version, “girlboss" or traditional, where she has any lasting trauma. You know what would be a trauma-friendly, heartwarming adaptation? One where she’s shown being supported through her trauma after she gets out of the House of Hell instead of immediately being fine. “It’s a kids’ movie!” So is Encanto and that whole movie is about a traumatised family healing from a massacre that displaced the older two generations and killed the grandfather.

Like, by all means criticise the ways in which Cinderella movies do survivors dirty. But the presence or absence of a particular trajectory of romance isn’t the be-all and end-all of whether an adaptation is respectful to survivors or how the adaptation regards love in general.

[cornerstorebitch]

this isn't a bad faith question but what's so special about fight club (the book--idc about the film)

the downtrodden don't simply behave. but realistically the odds of proper explosive revolt are very long unless the oppression is extreme; mostly people will just cope with nearly-unbearable oppression because of idk energy and also the fact that oppression strips illusions away and revolution isn't something realistic people necessarily expect to survive etc so it tends to happen when there's nothing left to lose

also i'm sure something like bodily fluids ending up in the soup happens sometimes or even somewhat often but it may be rare in establishments rich&powerful types frequent --pointlessness qed

as far as other aspects of fight club, the insane asylum isn't heaven, destruction hasn't got any point of equilibrium, and although when as a child i first read the book iirc i thought there was homosexuality in but it really isn't if narrator is in love with TD who is only an aspect of himself. the book is quite edgy and well-written; some of the imagery is thrilling and hilarious; but perhaps there's more to it and i don't understand

books are entertaining and resounding vision of truth or w/e are not required, but people speak about it like it's the greatest novel the world has ever seen. is that view somewhat justified or not?

xxx hi claire

i mean, personally, none of that is how i would describe fight club. the book or the movie. the movie is more geared towards the consumerism/money is slavery/ikea is evil theme than the book is but either way i think taking that story as anything other than somebody’s personal meditation on all the things in their life that make them unhappy, that make them self conscious, that make them feel fundamentally unfulfilled takes basically all of the substance out of it. fight club is a social critique but not about whats wrong with society. the reason ikea is evil is not because its stupid and pointless to give money to shitty furniture for class reasons. ikea is evil in fight club because the narrator uses ikea furniture as a replacement for having any real sense of self or identity. hence why he has to create a fictional one. 

the narrator is somebody who has all the items, the life style, of somebody who is happy. but he isn’t. and fantasizing about another life where he doesn’t have any of these hang ups that are stifling ultimately only ruins his life further - because the only point in the movie where he’s directly engaged with reality is the end. 

idk fight club isn’t my favorite novel by chuck palahniuk but it is good and the movie adaptation is very faithful. and obviously you, or whomever, can take it however you want. but imo saying fight club is about capitalist oppression or consumerism is like saying american psycho is about consumerism. i mean. I GUESS. but only on a super surface level 

[wolint]

LIFTED BY GOD!

LIFTED BY GOD

Psalm 75:7

 

God’s word and His power can lift us from any situation, no matter how dire. His promises are sure, and His ability to exalt and restore is unparalleled.

You may be down and deep in the valley now but in God’s time, He can and will lift you up but only through His word as stated in Psalm 121:1-2, "I lift up my eyes to the hills. From where does my help come? My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth."

The bible is full of those the Lord lifted in time for His glory.

In Genesis 41:41-44 Joseph was lifted. Despite being sold into slavery by his brothers and later imprisoned in Egypt, Joseph was lifted by God to become the second most powerful man in Egypt. His story is a testament to God’s ability to lift us from the lowest points to positions of great influence and responsibility.

Elijah was deeply discouraged and even wished for death in 1 Kings 19. However, God lifted him by sending an angel to provide food and encouragement, and by speaking to him in a gentle whisper, giving him the strength to continue his prophetic ministry.

Daniel was thrown into the lion’s den for his faithfulness to God in Daniel 6:16-23, but God lifted him by shutting the mouths of the lions, and Daniel emerged unscathed. This miraculous deliverance led to King Darius acknowledging the power of Daniel’s God.

God’s lifting is not limited by our circumstances or backgrounds. His power to exalt and restore is evident throughout the Bible, offering hope and encouragement to all who trust in Him as seen in Psalm 3:2-3, "Many are saying of me, “God will not deliver him.” But you, Lord, are a shield around me, my glory, the One who lifts my head high."

Gideon was initially a fearful man, called by God to lead Israel against the Midianites. Through God’s guidance and empowerment, Gideon was lifted from obscurity to become a mighty warrior and judge of Israel. See Judges 6:11-16.

How do we explain Esther: An orphan who became the queen of Persia in Esther 2:17-18. Her story is a powerful example of how God can lift someone from obscurity to a position of great influence and responsibility. Through her courage and faith, she was able to save her people from destruction.

The Lord does not like the oppressed, anyone downtrodden need to cry out to God and the Lord will lift up His hands to lift you up according to Psalm 10:12, “Rise up, LORD God! Lift up your hand. Do not forget the oppressed.

Do not be discouraged, do not fear! God can and will lift you up.

David, a shepherd boy in 1 Samuel 16:11-13 and Psalm 89:20, was anointed by Samuel and later became the king of Israel. His journey from tending sheep to ruling a nation is a testament to God’s ability to lift and exalt those who are humble and faithful.

If Peter was here today, he won’t have heard the last of his blunder, after denying Jesus three times. But Jesus lifted him by reinstating him and giving him a crucial role in the early church. This lifting is beautifully depicted in John 21:15-19, where Jesus asks Peter three times if he loves Him, mirroring Peter’s three denials and restoring him.

How far have you gone to think Christ can’t reach you to deliver and lift you? Never too far! Psalm 189:8 and Isaiah 59:1 attest to that.

Again and again, we see God lift people who the world would have written off as finished, useless, rubbish but with God, there’s always more chances to rise than we deserve.

But the greatest human lifting is Paul and Silas: While imprisoned, Paul and Silas prayed and sang hymns to God. God lifted them by causing an earthquake that opened the prison doors and loosened their chains.

You too will be lifted in time.

PRAYER: Lord, lift me up out of life’s miry clay and set me where you need me in Jesus’ name, amen.

Shalom

WOMEN OF LIGHT INT’L PRAYER MIN.

[mileshehimwhite]

the truth is as the global north a lot of our politics live and die at what lies on our doorstep. this isnt a condemnation necessarily, im sure many of us could bake up very convincing arguments on why this is an issue linked to the human psyche moreso than deliberate maliciousness or unaware privilege, but it does paint a picture of the world that is. wrong. just blatantly wrong when taken outside the source country.

example: christian oppression. it IS real and innocent people have been murdered for being christian! and yes, you can honestly say that the majority of countries with christian populations are a result of colonialism and white supremacy, thats true. whats also true is that christianity, in all its faults, has a right to exist the same as judaism, islam, hinduism, sikhism, wiccans, taoism, buddhism, so on so forth. humans have a right to ideology, and a right to form our own opinions. necessarily, this includes christians. it is also fair to say that black and brown people are not perpetual victims and that some (pause for dramatic effect) may make a Personal Choice to be christian because thats what they believe in.

You Can argue that those beliefs are still the result of white supremacy. functionally, this argument is meaningless in real life because... prove it. you cant, and even if you could, that doesnt give you the right to "revoke" someones belief, and assuming you, random internet user, knows more about the social systems and oppression in global south countries youd never visit than the people who have lived their entire lives there is. certainly something you could say.

my point: nobody with sense would claim that christians are oppressed in the global north. for some countries in the global south however, there have been people who have lost their lives because they were found owning a bible or practicing christianity. this is wrong. its bad. religious persecution does not become ok because its against people we dont like. does this make the norths perspective of christians as the domineering religious group wrong? no. it just means that sociocultural spheres differ from country to country. a gay chinese person in china is more likely to experience homophobia, that same gay chinese person in canada is more likely to face sinophobia. societies are not a monolith.

i think this is important to remember for those of us in the global north. in a lot of cases, we have access to resources that the global south does not. i was born in poverty and frequently did not have clean water to access, but still that water came from a tap in my house. still, we had the ability to use our stove and boil said unclean water. what many would (rightfully) consider a failure of the system for me in the north would be a lifesaver for many in the south

i say this at risk of sounding like "there are starving children in africa" and painting the global south as inherently downtrodden and poverty-ridden, which i dont believe. i mean, earlier example, china is a very rich country and its south. australia is very south and its got money too. my real takeaway is far more to the point than i can ever hope to be: who are you getting your information from, and where are they from? are all your perspectives on the world painted by those in a similar hemisphere to yours? and how might that distort your interpretation of complex politics to a solely northern outlook?

i dont even think its necessarily wrong to have your strongest political opinions to be within your geographical zone. in the same way i wouldnt find it weird if you were more concerned on the politics in your province than the politics in a province across the country. it makes sense, you have firsthand experience on the situation and most pressingly you and your loved ones will be directly affected! thats a pretty good reason to want to get involved.

i also cant blame people who get upset when the political issues that disproportionately affect racialized or otherwise oppressed demographics are, for all intents and purposes, swept under the rug. the truth is for much of human history people have been greedy, but to be greedy you must deprive someone else. generation after generation of oppressed peoples suffering being looked at as a necessary evil for the oppressor groups quality of life is at the very bare minimum extremely frustrating. most of us can imagine it is also extremely frustrating to be a part of the world that is deemed as "less evolved" than the rest, through no fault of your own.

the lives of oppressed peoples exist outside of the north. lgbt, disabled, religious minorities, racialized, targets of xenophobia, they do not live and die by the north just because we mostly hear the northeners perspective. the global south is beautiful, diverse, and not a monolith. the people there are as every bit human and intelligent as we are, and its far past time we stop huffing our own farts and release our blindfolds from the truth

[waheelawhisperer]

I could not sleep last night thinking about it: Margaret seems to just effortlessly charm Viviana because she is just so completely unaffectedly Good, she's just LIKE that all the time, pure and brace and forthright, and Viv is just obviously so into it. The Doctor is a little freak but cunning and absolutely devoted to helping people who are in need even when it's at odds with their own safety or even basic common sense, and this ends up charming Senomy and Centaurea, seeing that she's such an oddball but such a pure, kind person. What if Nearl and the Doc are doing that, to each other, all the time. What if they're lowkey crushing but just know the other Definitely Only Sees Them In A Professional Capacity and would never go for it, and all the while they're both just dying inside. What have you done. You've infected my mind.

Every time I infect someone else with Doctor x Nearl brainworms I become a little stronger.

So much of Margaret's appeal both in- and out-of-universe comes from the fact that she's just... Good, without reservation or qualification. She is very much an old-school chivalric heroine, cast much more in the mold of Sir Galahad or Luke Skywalker than antiheroes like Batman or Vegeta. Not for Nearl are the vices and flaws of modern heroes. She has no substance abuse problem, no relationship ruined by her own mistakes and poor choices, no tragic, traumatic backstory that visibly shapes who her character is (sure, the disappearance of her parents had an effect on her, but it's not treated as a component of her story the way, say, the deaths of Batman's parents would be). Any temptation she faces at the hands of the Kazimierz General Chamber of Commerce is swiftly and easily rejected.

As cool as grim, dark, edgy antiheroes are, and I must admit that they are very cool indeed, I must also admit that I am just as weak as Viviana Droste to a hero who is a moral paragon, a shining light in a dim and dingy world, one whose deeds and moral character serve as a source of inspiration, a reminder that all of us can be better than we are. Nearl is the classical paladin as interpreted through the lens of a furry tower defense game, and I love her without hesitation or reservation for it.

As for Doctor, yes, it gets buried in the weirdness and the fandom memes and such, but they are remarkably devoted to making the world around them better as best they can, as seen by the way they take what was supposed to be a vacation to Kjerag and then, within moments of arriving, decide to stave off a potential civil war between three powerful and established factions despite only having access to a handful of operators and their own cunning. While they may have lost their memory, they remain well aware of their prior reputation as a heartless engine of war, and it is my belief that the Doctor is determined to never become that person again. They are very committed to doing good, even when, as you said, it runs contrary to their own personal safety or even basic common sense.

I could very much see the Doctor and Nearl finding in each other kindred spirits, as both have made this choice to do good even when all the odds are arrayed against them, even if they have very different ways of going about it. Where Nearl is bold and forthright, blazing like a star and declaring to the world that the old ideals of knighthood and chivalry still live, serving as the champion of the downtrodden and oppressed in the most literal, physical sense and daring anyone who objects to take up her challenge directly, either with words or force of arms (as seen when she fights Liam to allow the Infected into Kawalerielki), the Doctor fights with guile and cunning, outsmarting Terra's more nefarious factions and frequently convincing them that their own self-interest lies in making things better. Nearl and the Doctor both fight for the Infected during Near Light in their own way, but their methods could not be more different. I think they compliment each other incredibly well, and I could absolutely see the situation you described, where each falls for the other and is yet so convinced that the object of their affections does not return their feelings that they choose to suffer in silence until whoever has the least amount of patience with this kind of sappy, romantic, self-sacrificial nonsense gets fed up with it and bullies one of them into confessing to the other already.

Nearl is really just such an amazing character. I love her so much.

And with that, my ask box is entirely clear. You nerds are slacking.

[bookofmirth]

Actually why is Aelin so special? Why is she the main character? Especially when, after the extension from 3 to 6 books to make way for Rowaelin, the plot has nothing do with her anymore? Is it because of her power? But that means nothing if Dorian has raw magic that he can make into whatever he wishes (apparently), so wouldn’t that make him arguably stronger than Aelin? Because it’s certainly not because she’s fighting for the oppressed when she kind of didn’t care for years and then expects to be handed armies and her kingdom despite her not having any leadership skills at all because she was eight. That’s not to negate the fact that… she was eight and grew up to live a horrible life and was afraid to go back, but she really just expected to be welcomed with open arms… for why? She wasn’t doing anything in secret for the good of the oppressed until it became very clear the oppression was knocking at her door… Even though it’s the reason her whole family is dead and the reason for the story anyway. It’s like why is Rhys the most powerful high lord when his powers are the literal same as other high lords?

Let me not say she wasn’t needed for plot because she was to close the gate, but all the other characters do things… for Aelin/Terrasen, and not necessarily to “make the world a better place” because in their definition a better place is Aelin’s way or no go in but why? Why? I know she was healing in HOF, but it took her the genocide of mostly POC slaves to decide she wanted to do something? (Only for her to joke around about colonization two books later, but whatever.) Not anything from her life before she was forced into assassinry? She does nothing but gets all the praise somehow. She didn’t even show up to the battle in her own kingdom until late because she was picking out rings and armor, I mean? Really? That’s the equivalent of Feysand having sex while people are literally dying outside and all for them so why? Why is she so special?

Also sorry if those asks come off as rude, I definitely don’t mean them to be haha! I was just thinking about how all Sarah’s main characters are super OP for no reason

Hello!

I should start this by saying that I love Aelin, Aelin is probably my favorite of all sjm's characters, but I know that opinion is not shared by everyone! I know that her behavior rubs some people the wrong way and I get it, because the things that people say they dislike in Aelin are the things that I dislike in Bryce.

I think you sent this after my Bryce rant, and I see Bryce as a pale, poor imitation of Aelin. Where Bryce has zero motivation and zero awareness of how other people suffer, Aelin is self-sacrificing to an extreme degree. Aelin absolutely did care about others - at 16 she was saving slaves in the one story about her and the pirate dude. Rolf. Sam didn't even know what she was trying to do until he was sucked into her scheme. I can see the argument for her not acting until Nehemia was killed and that feels like a separate issue, but the deaths at the slave camps were 1) not her fault, so it feels odd to use that as a criticism of her, and 2) affected her deeply, but happened when she was already in Mistward training so she could get what she needed from Maeve.

I would argue that Aelin always cared, and felt a deep sense of shame that she was unable to basically be an adult and take care of everyone after her parents' death, even though that was literally impossible for her to do so. She was a child when her parents were killed, and the way that Adarlan took over everything was a massive scar, and something she felt unduly responsible for.

but she really just expected to be welcomed with open arms… for why?

This actually made me think of another question - what would Darrow & Co. have done if Aelin had come to them all shy and downtrodden and meek? Humble? They would have rolled their eyes and been like "great, some fantastic leader we've been strapped with". I can't really see a way that Aelin could have approached her court that would garner their respect. Since she's the heir, I don't think that coming to them and asking for her rightful place would have been a good sign to them because they would probably expect - and want - someone with authority and confidence. I think however Aelin approached meeting them, she was damned either way. She's young, she's a woman, she's been away from the court since she was a child, they have zero reason to trust her. It wouldn't have mattered what she did, so the least she could do was act as if she belonged.

She does nothing but gets all the praise somehow.

She gained alliances and trained with her magic and gathered armies and figured out the magic to break the lock.

She didn’t even show up to the battle in her own kingdom until late because she was picking out rings and armor

Armor is kinda important in battle. Granted I still haven't reread KoA, but it took her quite a while to heal from all the torture and to travel. It's not as if she could single-handedly defeat an army. I just don't see finding wedding rings before battle being the same as having sex while listening to men die. There is a hopefulness in Rowan and Aelin getting those rings, and to me it definitely lacked the crassness of feysand tent sex ft. the blood of dying men.

Also sorry if those asks come off as rude, I definitely don’t mean them to be haha!

Hey, say what you want about fictional characters! I don't take it personally. We all have strong opinions about these things, or else we wouldn't be here!

I do agree with you on the hyperbole re: all of sjm's main characters. They are all so overpowered that often, their power becomes meaningless because it's canceled out by the fact that everyone is also The Most Powerful. Or the Most Beautiful, take your pick. Ultimately, I look past that because the things I enjoy, I enjoy more than the things that annoy me. If that makes sense haha

You are making me want to reread ToG 🤣

[tessiete]

"You’re burning up” for Obitine BUT ONLY IF YOU WANT TO! <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

FOR YOU? ANYTHING!!! But only if you like it. If you don’t like it, please immediately erase this from your memory so we can still be friends. Anyway, there’s meant to be some stuff in here about the fever of first love, and like passion and fire and stuff, but it’s also just them bitching at each other so....I TRIED.

I love you!

IT CANNOT HAPPEN TWICE

“You’re burning up.”

“Remove your hand from my face before I remove it from your person.”

“I only meant to say that we can rest,” he explains, watching as Master Jinn forges on ahead, clearing a path through thick brush. “If you need to.”

It is safer here, out in the wilds, than on the road, the stretch between Mircine and Kar’Marev known for kidnappings, hunters, and corpses, but Satine will not be bowed.

“We may if you need to,” she spits. “I am perfectly capable of continuing without breaking, though I would not begrudge any weakness of yours.”

He grits his teeth, and she holds his gaze, steady and fever bright, the heat of her presence grinding him into deference out of respect for her position, for his master, and for the basic tenets of the Code - a Code which he seems to remind himself of continuously these days. Certainly, he has become more familiar with the first precept than ever before. He is intimate friends with it, having meditated on it for hours with no great success. There is no emotion.

“Of course, your Grace,” he says. His bow is shallow and poorly done, the curve of his lips equally false, but she says nothing. “I was only trying to help.”

“Thank you, padawan,” she says, then turns and marches on.

He catches up with her at sundown, hours later, and her condition is not improved. She stumbles along behind Qui-Gon, head bent, eyes on every next step. Her breathing comes in ragged gasps, and Obi-Wan can’t help the worried glances he keeps throwing at Qui-Gon’s broad back. He frets at the strand of shared consciousness between them, like he frets at the hem of his sleeve, and when it’s finally gone dark, he approaches his master where she cannot hear them.

“She’s ill,” he says, with no attempt at a conciliatory preamble.

“I know,” says his master. “I had hoped we might reach Kar’Marev tonight, but it is later than I thought. And I dare not brave the open plains past dusk. Not like this.”

“Then we’ll rest for the night?”

“We will,” Qui-Gon says. “Though I fear it will not help us much.”

“Master?” He shuffles nearer, and Qui-Gon speaks even lower to be certain of their confidence.

“The duchess is ill,” he says. “And if her fever persists she shall not be able to continue tomorrow. If it breaks, she shall be too exhausted to proceed. Either way, our efforts will be in vain, and worse - foolish. We gain nothing by gaining ground on foot only to lose it in body.”

Obi-Wan glances behind him as the duchess stokes the embers of their fire, banked low so as not to draw attention. She coughs, and it sounds as though it catches on every ribs, rattling and severe.

“Is it so serious?” he asks. “We are at least a day’s walk from help in any direction. What if she gets worse?”

Qui-Gon huddles close, scratching at the edge of his beard. “There is a plant,” he says. “A weed, really, and so it should be in no short supply. If I can find it, we may make a tea of its leaves.”

“A local remedy,” says Obi-Wan, looking skeptical. “Will it cure her?”

“It might alleviate the worst of her symptoms.”

Obi-Wan sighs. “Show it to me, master,” he says, closing his eyes to search out the gossamer impression of light and colour in the Force. But his master frowns, and holds him at arm’s length.

“No, Obi-Wan,” he says. “I shall search. You must stay here, and care for Satine.”

“What? But master, surely it is better that I go!”

“I know what I’m looking for, where to find it, and how much we need.”

“There are hunters on the prowl -”

“- And the only company worse than yours, should one find her here. Stay, padawan, and watch over her.”

She coughs again, and he throws a doubtful glance over his shoulder before applying to Qui-Gon once more.

“Master -?”

“Be kind,” he says. “And patient. Trust in the Force, and I shall be back soon.”

But Qui-Gon is not back soon, and the night grows cold and dark around them. The creakers in the grass go to bed, and the home world Mandalore hangs heavy in the sky until the clouds come in and shroud it from view. Obi-Wan smothers the fire with sand, the red heat of it glowing bright in the absence of planetlight. He worries it might draw the eye of any unsavory observers, and trusts that Qui-Gon will be able to navigate without it. He can feel him, far afield, illuminating the shadows like starlight falling softly over leaves, and moving father still.

“Do you think Master Jinn will return before dawn?”

Satine sounds miserable, her voice crackling in place of tinder. She clears her throat, and clutches her thin cloak more closely about her. 

“I hope so,” he replies. “Maybe sooner.”

“I had not thought reconnaissance something so eagerly done at night.”

They had decided between them it would be best to keep Qui-Gon’s purpose from the duchess. Qui-Gon had said that she was already struggling under the weight of so many expectations of infallibility that one breach might be enough to topple her. Obi-Wan had simply desired an evening free of insufferable debate. If Satine suspected either reason, she would be offended, so Obi-Wan shrugs, and unrolls his bedkit.

“Master Jinn felt it would be better if he used the cover of night to clear our path than simply hope we don’t stumble across some hive of villainy in the daylight.”

“And you agreed with him?” she says.

“I trust him,” he says, unflinching. “Master Jinn is very experienced in matters of this nature, and I trust him to lead us safely.”

“So long as the Force wills it,” she mutters. It is not his imagination that some bitterness sours the air, then, and he feels it twist against his spine, drawing him stiffly upright to counter her.

“Yes,” he says. “But you seem to be labouring under the presumption that trust in the Force is tantamount to resignation to our fate.”

“Isn’t it?” she demands. Her eyes are bright, and her cheeks flushed pink and raw.

“Isn’t pacifism?” he retorts. “Or would you contend that laying down arms in the face of violence and oppression a brave choice?”

A twig snaps in the distance, but Obi-Wan feels no danger stir in the Force. Foolish - for she scowls at him, baring her teeth like a feral strill on the hunt. 

“What do you know of bravery, padawan? You have always been at heel, always in the shelter of your Order, and your Temple, and your Master Jinn. You know nothing of fear.”

“And you know nothing of me,” he snaps. “But I would fight. I would sacrifice everything for what I believe is right. I would die for it.”

“And so would I.”

“I would kill for it,” he says, and she is silent. He feels his victory at hand, and her silence. his reward. Finally. “Don’t speak to me of bravery. You have fine ideals, and beautiful dreams, but I have seen the galaxy, and I know what it is to face villains who would destroy everything you love simply for the sake of seeing you suffer. I would not wish that on you, but your pacifism will not save you from it. I’m sorry, but I cannot see peace for your warrior kind.”

Satine sniffs. She coughs. He feels a sharp tug in his chest, looking at her already so weak and downtrodden by illness, and now battered by his own unruly emotions. But then she throws back her head. Her hair is lank, the lily-white gold of its strands turned dusty with neglect, but she is somehow regal still.

“We are not violent by nature,” she declares. “Our cultures, our traditions - there is more to Mandalore than bloodshed. And there is bravery in standing bared and open with nothing but peace, our shield between life and death. A blossom is just as noble as a blaster. More, for it thrives in harmony and gentleness. It lives, it grows, it seeds, and grows again. A blaster can only destroy. Would you have me wish that for my people?”

“I do not know your people.”

“Then do not speak for us,” she says. “I may not have seen the galaxy as you have, but I know Mandalore. Pacifism is not passivity. It is still the warrior’s way.”

Obi-Wan kicks out the end of his coarse bushcover, straightening the edges, and smoothing away bumps that rise up beneath the narrow mat. He says nothing as she coughs, not even when the next fit lasts for more than a minute. He only folds his rucksack so that his spare stockings and pants may act as a pillow, and cushion the edges of rations and various other instruments of use. He sits. He pulls off his boots, and aligns them neatly beside his bed. His stockings are next, and he lays them flat to dry in the open air of the forest. At last, the choking and sputtering behind him fade, and he lies down with his back to Satine.

“Aren’t you going to wait for Master Jinn?”

“No,” he says, closing his eyes. “And I wouldn’t advise you to, either, though I know nothing I say has any weight with you.”

“But what if he needs help?”

“Then I don’t suppose your being awake will have particular value there, seeing as you won’t lift a finger to defend him.”

He can hear as she surges to her feet, and kicks at the little rise of buried fire. Bits of sand and ash scatter at his back, but it is only a bluff.

“You’re insufferable,” she says. 

“The feeling’s mutual,” he assures her, pulling his coverlet up high, and nuzzling against his pack until it cradles his head just so. It is a warm night, and the earth still holds the heat of the day. The insects of Harswee have been until now a mannerly bunch, and Obi-Wan hopes that this resolution will last the night. He has already suffered enough. 

He waits until he hears Satine unroll her own kit, kick off her shoes, and lie down before he releases a deep breath, and relaxes into the Force.

When he wakes, it is still dark. The air has turned cold, and Qui-Gon has not returned. Instinctively, as though still a child in the creche, he reaches out to his master, first, worried that it is some disturbance there which has stirred him from his rest. But no. Qui-Gon still burns, an effulgent flicker of light somewhere out on the plains, and Obi-Wan feels a sense of comfort and reassurance pass over him like a zephyr of thought. The problem does not lie there.

Instead, he finds it lying six feet away on the other side of the smothered campfire.

Satine’s fever has gotten worse. She shivers on the ground so loudly her teeth chatter, and her shoulders shake. Her arms are wrapped tightly around her, the thin coverlet strained with the desperate desire to provide some heat. Obi-Wan kneels to press his hand to her brow, only to find her skin slick with sweat.

“Oh, Force, Satine,” he says, shaking her awake. She looks at him with glazed eyes, but her frown seems instinctive, for it falls into place immediately upon recognition. 

“I thought I said don’t touch me,” she says. There may be fire in her, but it is raging through her blood and her skin, and her words come out as thin as smoke.

“Your fever is worse,” he says. 

“I know,” she replies.

“You should have said.”

He hurries back to his kit, throwing aside the cover and tripping over his boots in his haste to reach his rucksack. The careful work of folding and primping forgotten as he pulls it apart to find a small canteen of water and a packet of electrolytes. He tears the packet with his teeth, and dumps its contents into the liquid, shaking it, before returning to Satine’s side. With all the gentleness of newborn things, he slips his hand beneath her neck and raises her to rest against his chest. She protests feebly, but she cannot fight him, and when he brings the water to her lips she drinks as bidden.

“Small sips,” he says, one arm wrapped around her back to brace her, the other steadying her hand on the canteen. “You must stay hydrated.”

She nods, but pushes the drink away.

“Satine -”

“I can’t,” she whispers. She wilts against him, her head tucking itself into the crook of his neck beneath his chin. Her breath is hot against his throat, her body hotter still where he can feel the warmth of her fever radiating through the thin layer of her clothes where they touch. He puts the canister on the ground, propped up in the dirt but still within reach. 

“Obi-Wan,” she murmurs. “I’m so cold.”

“Alright,” he says, and he reaches forward to drag her coverlet from where it lies crumpled at her feet. “You’re alright.”

He pulls the blanket up over her shoulders, and wraps her in his arms. She responds to his touch in a manner so differently than usual he can feel his heart stutter and stop in confusion. Burrowing deeper, she nuzzles her cheek against his chest, and folds her arms between them. 

“Hush,” he says, rubbing wide circles over her back, the friction of his palm against the cover doing little to soothe her tremors, but doing much to calm his own uncertainty. 

“Is Master Jinn returned yet?”

“He will soon,” he says, though Master Jinn is still distant and cool.

“Do you promise?” she asks. She has never asked for his word before, never solicited his opinion, or sought his comfort. He pulls back to look at her face, certain he is being mocked somehow. But her eyes are closed, and her face slack with exhaustion. She tilts her chin, until her throat is bared, and she waits for him to speak.

“I promise,” he says. 

“Thank you,” she whispers. “I trust you. Will you wake me when he does?”

“I promise,” he repeats, staggered by this turn she so easily concedes to.

“And will you stay with me til then?”

He tightens his arms around her, cradling her head, and holding her close so that she might be warmed by the heat of his own body.

“I promise,” he vows.

And in the dark, he waits, and he watches, and he holds her until the sun comes up.

[childofchrist1983]

Stand up for the oppressed, this is the message of this passage.

Defend those who are oppressed, downtrodden, even if they are without our Heavenly Father. Think back to many historical events, from the slaves of Egypt becoming the chosen people, to the abolition of slavery, or the horrors committed in world wars or in the name of Empires. Our world is weighed down by immeasurable suffering. Be not on the wrong side of history, be not on the side of the oppressor, but seek to help those of God’s children who have no or little voice, little or no hope.

May the LORD our God and Father in Heaven help us to stay diligent and guard our hearts in Him and His Word daily and full of excitement to do our duty to Him and for His glorious return and our reunion in Heaven as well as all that awaits us there. May we never forget to thank the LORD our God and our Creator and Father in Heaven for all this and everything He does and has done for us! May we never forget who He is, nor forget who we are in Christ and that God is always with us! What a mighty God we serve! What a Savior this is! What a wonderful Lord, God, Savior and King we have in Jesus Christ! What a loving Father we have found in the Almighty God! What a wonderful God we serve! His will be done!

Thanks and glory be to God! Blessed be the name of the LORD! Hallelujah and Amen!

Father God, Lord Jesus, place me on the right side - Your side! The side of mercy and love for the voiceless, the injured, the poor. Instill within each and every one of Your followers the knowledge that within them rests an obligation and responsibility, to help give the voiceless a voice, to alleviate the suffering of mankind wherever they may be and for Your continued mercy.

Help us to be courageous enough to seek You daily and to humbly and faithfully do our duty to You, spreading the truth of Your Gospel to all in all nations, as You commanded before You ascended back to Heaven (Mark 16:15-16). May our lives show the world Your light and Truth and that You are a loving God and Heavenly Father who delights in showing love and mercy. May we all be humbly and faithfully honored and excited to worship, glorify and serve You daily and to do Your will. You have been so good to us, far more than we as wretched sinners deserve. You are so good! So wonderful! Forever and always!

Thank you, Lord, for keeping me and helping me in times where I am tempted to go astray. Praise be to You today and everyday of my life and let me never forget all of the blessings that are given me by You. As much as the enemy will try, he will never be able to successful breed doubt about who You are, in the minds of anyone who truly believes and follows You. And I will follow and serve You all the days of my life and beyond! Thank you for the connection with You that we are given through Your Holy Word and Spirit. Thank you, O Lord, for all Your creation and Your miraculous ways. Thank you for being our stronghold and my refuge. Thank you for seeing us as worth the sacrifice. Thank you for sustaining us, loving us and defining us according to Your will and love for us. Thank you for making sure we are taken care of. Thank you for being the best friend we could ever have! Thank you for Your endless mercy and love that has saved us. Thank you for always protecting us and providing for us and for Your Spirit to help us when we are in need. Thank you for abiding within me and may I abide with You, my Lord. Thank you for giving us a chance to be saved from our sin and spend eternity with You. Thank you for adopting us as part of Your family in Heaven and making us one of Your own. Thank you for being our present help in times of trouble (Psalm 46:1). Thank you for always being near and for loving us. Thank you for giving us a reason to love others and so many more reasons to love, praise, serve and follow You. Thank you for Your selfless and sinless sacrifice. Thank you for Your guidance and protection. Thank you for Your Truth and light. Thank you for Your wisdom and strength and grace. Thank you for giving life to the world and to us. You give and take away – And we thank you for it. Thank you for everything! Your will be done! Blessed be Your mighty name! To You and Your Kingdom be the glory forevermore! In Your name I humbly pray, Amen and amen

[iamnotawomanimagod]

Hollywood is not a show about recreating history. It’s a show about rewriting history. 

It’s a show about telling the stories that were there all along, and about what it might have looked and felt like if people had been successful.

Those untold stories, and their “what could have beens.” The hushed-up diversity of identities in the history of American media, which is an absolute reality, not just present-day wishful thinking retroactively inserted for woke points.

People like us - queer people, people of color, and those few true allies who see us as the complex and emotional human beings that we are - have always existed, and will always exist. 

Our histories are painful. They’re filled with slow, difficult progress, with violence and cruelty and endless obstacles.

But what if it hadn’t been that way? 

What if we’d been able to overcome so many of those obstacles during the Golden Era of Hollywood? 

Golly gee, isn’t that a dream? 

That’s the story Ryan Murphy wanted to tell, and he does so brilliantly.

Are the characters accurate representations of who those people were in history? No. Much like with most of Ryan Murphy’s work, Hollywood is a fictionalized version of reality, a hyper-vibrant and clever and smooth representation of real events. It’s far from the first time he’s taken liberties with “the truth” - anyone who’s seen his American Crime Story series or even certain fictionalized representations of real people in American Horror Story will already be familiar with the way he inserts real-life figures in order to root his fantastical stories in reality. It’s a hallmark of his work (and part of why I personally am drawn to so many of his stories, but I digress.)

Unlike many of Murphy’s past works, however, Hollywood is far from the bleak, dark tale one might expect it to be. It’s one of the most inspiring and emotionally fulfilling pieces of media I’ve seen in a long, long time.

This is not a story about the dark, depressing, real history of the slow march towards diverse representation in media. Rather, it’s a wish-fulfillment style fantasy that asks the question - 

What if - instead of being beaten down, of being pushed over the edge, of having to suffer in silence - what if those who were most oppressed and least represented in media at this time (and to this day) had risen up? Had been able to become the stars they should have been all along? What if they’d known recognition, representation, and accolades way back at the dawn of the Golden Era of Hollywood?

And it asks this question to make us know how it would feel. Not to show us what would’ve happened, and how it would’ve changed the world. We already know that. No, this story exists purely to give us that incredible warmth and pride that fills you from your toes to your scalp when you see people like you succeed, and it lets us glimpse, for a moment, how it would feel if that had happened when it was already long overdue, 70 years ago.

As it turns out, it feels fucking incredible. And it hurts so goddamn much that it isn’t real.

Many viewers have commented about crying throughout the final episode, so I was bracing myself for some horrific and tragic twist - but it never came. You can trust the title of the final episode - “A Hollywood Ending” - to deliver exactly that.

What makes it special and important and unique is who that happy ending is for.

Black men, black women, Asian women, gay men, and the elderly. Every dream they could ever want - success, love, acceptance, bravery, joy - all of it was delivered to them, without caveat within the story. It isn’t too late for anyone. Nobody is ever brutally punished for being true and honest about themselves. The show ends in a black-and-white shot and the words “The Beginning.”

Within the story, it’s perfect. It’s Hollywood. A happy ending.

But it’s still a Ryan Murphy story. The setting is intentional, because the late 1940s were such a pivotal time for American media and for American culture. The heartbreak, the real-world caveat, comes when you wake up from “Dreamland,” and remember reality.

I had to pause and cry for a good five minutes when Hattie McDaniel says to Camille: “They let me in the room this time.” As far as I know, that never happened for her. 

Or when Anna May Wong got her Oscar. That didn’t happen for her.

Or when Roy and Archie walked the red carpet hand-in-hand, an interracial gay couple in 1947. Obviously, that never happened for anyone.

But god, do you know how good it felt to imagine? To see it? To dream?

And not only did we get to see those huge, satisfying moments - we got to see an in-world context of how it might’ve affected people alive back then. A poor immigrant Chinese family; a solitary black gay writer; a black family, particularly a little black girl - we get to watch them all explode with joy and happy tears and acceptance as they’re seen, for the first time, by America at large.

That didn’t happen in 1947. It has barely even happened now.

That’s why Hollywood is intentionally “unrealistic,” why it rewrites history. Why the opening credits sequence shows all of this downtrodden people working together to lift each other up the Hollywood sign, to catch each other when they slip, to watch each other when they take the leap - and to enjoy the gorgeous, golden glow of the city together when they reach the top.

It’s about community, bravery, and fighting the good fight. And it’s about winning.

This is the first piece of escapist media I’ve seen in a long time, and it is a tenderly written love letter to queer, elderly, and poc creatives.

That’s worth a million times more than so-called realism ever will be.