#i originally posted this when i was on vacation but it wasn't connected to its companion piece yet

[itstimeforstarwars]

The siege has gone on for a month now, and Anakin is getting impatient. When he and Cody find a tunnel that might lead past the blockade, nothing is going to stop him from exploring it, so Cody does his best to mitigate the risks and prepare backup in case it ends up going wrong.

(Written for Forgotten Chapters. Companion piece to Mapmaking by bringyourbasket.)

“Cody marked the coordinates on a map as they were updated… they could see that the tunnels definitely went towards the city.” —Mud, Muck, and Mapmaking by soft_but_gremlin

Art for Forgotten Chapters: A 2003 Clone Wars Era Zine

~

I wanted to make this post with both of our contributions, so that y'all could easily see both! It was a great time working with bringyourbasket, and I'm really happy with the way our work turned out!

[daebelly]

i have a theory as to Why this sort of thing happens. it's a long post and i don't want to make out like this post is addressed to me, so it'll be under the cut.

shaun (the skull guy on youtube) made an excellent point in his video "The Fate of the Frog Men" where white men in the us, especially cis, straight, christian white men, sort of lack a 'narrative' for lack of a better word. oppression has a sort of "allure" to them because it casts them as the righteous underdog fighting the system, where they are the system more often than not, in reality. so they seek out a group to give themselves a narrative.

in the video, shaun uses this as a segue into gamergate, but i think this "search for a narrative," i'll call it, applies outside of that.

(and if you'd like to watch the video, it's here. it's a good watch)

my parents tried to raise me to be a straight, cis, white, chistian man (the only thing that ends up applying out of that is 'white' btw), and my family is of Irish, Scottish, and Welsh descent, so i have a bit of insight into this phenomenon(i do not speak for Irish, Scottish, or Welsh people). my family has almost no cultural practices beyond the most bare-bones holidays, going to church on rare occasions (usually when it was least convenient for me), and a tradition of an annual week-long vacation, so there wasn't a whole lot for me to feel attached to or much to base my self-perception off of(so, basically, i've lived the 'lack of a narrative' that shaun proposed). this is, i suspect, because generally, us american whiteness tries its best to be a monolith, so to speak--to erase anything different within itself to become homogeneous. and, because so much has to be removed to make everyone the same, you end up with the bare minimum(and, asking my grandmother, her grandmother actively went out of her way to not discuss the family's history. the culture vacuum runs deep in the us).

i know for a fact that i was not the only person in the entire united states to be in that same situation, and that many people in that situation were not so fortunate to have met incredibly kind, patient and willing-to-educate friends like i was. i was extraordinarily lucky. so you have a rather large population of people of Irish descent in a highly conservative and white environment without a "narrative" or really much of anything to anchor themselves to.

and in come republicans and, especially, nazis.

one thing that unites people of Irish descent in the us is, of course, being of Irish descent. and nazis are all about being 'racially superior,' co-opting imagery and cultural symbols, and emphasizing that the person they're trying to recruit is, has been, or could become a victim. introduce a vaguely conservative cishet straight white christian man to the idea that, because he is of Irish descent, he is superior, and he might just latch onto it as a facet of his identity. without having any connection to the culture, politics or history of Ireland besides that his great-great-great-grandmother that he never met had parents from Ireland. hell, if his recruiter is particularly savvy, he might walk away believing himself truly disenfranchised because of his race. in the us. while being white.

his idea of Irishness might even be entirely founded in stereotype, especially English anti-Irish propaganda that wormed its way into the states("Irish people get drunk all the time and they're all alcoholics" is not an uncommon sentiment, unfortunately). he's probably never even met an Irish person, or even really considered Irish people to be... yknow, real people, who are more than just stereotypes and cultural symbols divorced from their original context and meaning. and he won't care, either, because why should he? it fulfills a base need to feel a sense of belonging to an ingroup, especially one populated with victims rather than oppressors.

so you get shirts like this. they're a wearable monuments to the desolation and apathy of white culture with another country's flag crudely painted on.

Irish people, I NEED to know: What do you think of these weird shirts that rednecks in my home town wear?

[promiseiwillwrite]

Things I like about Christianity

I come from Alabama, by way of Kentucky. I grew up in the South, immersed in Southern Culture, Southern Values, and Southern Ideals.

Hard Work, Self Sacrifice, Putting others before yourself, Kindness, Strength, Devotion, Keeping your word.

These were things that were pressed into the mold of my soul before I even knew the concepts existed.

I remember being told to stand in the hall for hours after I asked about dinosaurs in my vacation bible school class. And then looking up at my favorite tree as our car passed it on my way home from there, and deciding that I believed in dinosaurs even if I couldn't be good enough to be with god in heaven. I was five.

But my Grandparents bought me as Many Dinosaurs as I could want, Because I Loved them.

My Grandparents were absolute saints. Their family meant more to them than money or perception. They loved us, and it was unconditional. Even when my mom, with her notoriously bad taste in men kept bringing them home. They welcomed them with open arms because my mother loved them. My grandfather mentored my dad and got him the engineering job that became the foundation for his 40 year career.

And my Grandmother still chased him down the hall of her retirement community building with a bright red Louisville Slugger after she found out that he had abused me and my sister.

My mother came out of the Broom Closet when she divorced my dad. And her next failed marriage was to a man who emotionally and verbally abused me and my sister as well. But this man was a piece of work. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Substance abuse, Psychotic Episodes, Poor emotional control and other problems. And he was a Hater. He blamed Christians, Christianity and the Establishment for Every problem he saw in his life and his mind.

He considered himself a pagan person. And he thought of himself as strictly countercultural.

He was an Anti-role model for me. I strove not to be like him. I saw his bitter rage and terror, and agoraphobia and I swore to myself I would never be that way.

But despite my best efforts, parts of him rubbed off on me. Like Gomez Addams. My Mother and my Step Father were like Gomez and Morticia, and the Addams's romantic entanglements were like the "relationship Goals" for my parents. I was taught that this was the model for Knowing for sure that it was Love.

For better or for worse.

It is through this lens that I look back at Christianity, and its ideas, and stories, and interpretations. It is from this perspective that I can sit down and try to piece together something worth having.

I always did love the stories of the Folk Devil... Why the Sea is Salt was always my favorite.

I Loved the stories of Saint Martha and the Tarasque, and Saint Francis of Assisi, and Joan of Arc as a kid, but never told anyone because those were Christian things, and I wasn't allowed to like stuff like that. There were some stories of the Knights of Templar protecting folk healers and midwives, instead of crusading and murdering people. There was Mother Theresa of Calcutta, who lived in my lifetime and helped Many people.

I don't know if you've read Madeline L'Engle, but her story called Many Waters is a fantastic read. Lots of Angels, and Nephilim and Unicorns.

I am sure that there are a lot of people who will be upset at the idea of me liking these stories. I was 12. There was no context for me to use to connect these tales to their origins. I could not have known that they had been stolen from Jewish stories and traditions.

The history of my family is very strong in the Holiness Faith. My Great Grandfather received an epiphany and became a traveling minister. He founded many churches in Indiana, Ohio and Kentucky. He played guitar, and wrote Christian Music. He lived to be over 100 years old.

I like to think that some of what motivated him was love. I never knew him. I have seen a few pictures. My mother has some of the sheet music he wrote.

For such a long time, I did not claim this part of my heritage because All I could see of Christianity was the oppression. The Ugliness portrayed by my Step Father. His burning, righteous indignation at everything it stood for. And my own shame, acknowledging that it was a part of me whether I liked it or not.

But I think this view was limited. As much as Christianity has problematic aspects, so does everyone. So does Every path. And I think that there are good parts, even so.

And like the pieces of fabric that make a quilt, I am going to take some of these good ones, some of these that make up who I am, and I am going to make a blanket to wrap around the shoulders of people I love. I am going to use that blanket to let myself rest, and heal, and learn that safety is a thing I can Make in my life.

And I think I will have done alright by my Great Grandfather, for an old swamp witch.